I was shoved into a rickety police van parked outside the premises of the company, which zoomed off immediately my captors got in, squashing me in the middle. I was the tuna in our bitter sandwich and though I had seen a lot of that kind of action in Nollywood movies, I never for once imagined I would ever act such a part in life’s reality show. The driver, whom I couldn’t see yet due to the steel partition that came between us, drove like a mad man and even though I hated the idea of going to a police station for a likely arrest, I silently prayed that we made it there in one piece.
“Guy, na wa for you o!” The policeman on my left began. “You really get mind wey you go dey climb your oga wife o! Wetin even make you reason that kain tin?”
I gave no reply but squeezed my lips to suggest that I was in no mood to talk. Probably reading my thought, the second officer quickly chipped in “E fit be say na oga madam bin want am o! Maybe na she ask am to dey shine am. Remember that Okon case nau! Na wetin we bin later find out from our investigation!” To this, I quietly muttered “Thank you jare! God go bless you for me.”
“Ehn, dat one sef dey but you no be im spokesperson nau! As im no wan talk, make im reach station write statement and we go know im own side of the story” the first policeman retorted with a sneer at me to conclude the brief discussion that I intentionally didn’t partake in.
We eventually reached ‘Area G’ in less than 20 minutes. The trip, by my guess, ordinarily should have cost us at least 45 minutes of our time but I stifled a chuckle and understood the puzzle when the pot-bellied driver rushed out of the vehicle as soon as we were allowed into the rusty station gates with a quick salute, yelling to his superiors “Oga abeg I dey come. Make I run shit!”
Inside the station seemed like a simulation of hell on earth. No sooner had I walked in than I was forced to strip down almost completely, leaving only my boxer shorts to cover my pride before writing a statement. All my pleas for some mercy and a phone call to a close friend whose mum was also in the force fell on deaf ears. I was even made to shut up with a hot, vibrating slap before being thrown into one of the six cells behind the counter. I then wondered how my hypertension-prone father and worrisome mother would have reacted to the news that their only son in Nigeria was in jail for an unknown reason. Though I knew my brother who was with them in Canada would have fared better with such news, I was quite thankful to God that they were not around to witness this embarrassing and unfortunate incident.
I felt terrible and disgusted at being treated like a hardened criminal when all I did was help a fellow human being in need, not rob a bank or kill someone. Perhaps, if madam had died when I gave her my parting hardcore fuck, I would have truly come to terms with the fact that I committed murder.
I was thrown into one of the cells and knew I was in deep shit when the ‘Presido’, a middle-aged, black, tall and smelly motherfucker who ruled over other prisoners, gave me a welcome ‘present’. I was persuaded to provide him, along with four others, extra air using an almost worn-out hand-fan after he threatened to design my chest with a small piece of broken glass which he took out of the back pocket of his torn jeans and showed me. It flashed green in my face and I wasted no time in doing as instructed. You know I wasn’t yet ready to join my ancestors? Besides, I had always fantasised about dying between the legs of a bitch after cuming hard…not from the stabs of a smelly, old convict.
A little luck came my way when the officer who read my thoughts in the van came to my cell and made me a deal I couldn’t resist. He was willing to grant me a 2-minute phone-call to any 1 person of my choice for the N1,650 in my wallet. I initially wanted to scream at him “How dare you take out my wallet from my pants, open it and go as far as counting my own money?” but restrained myself with the quick after-thought that though the average police officer was trained to protect many things, privacy was certainly not on the list.
Oh well! What alternative did I have? Your guess is just as good as mine. As soon as the law enforcer emptied my wallet into his hands before pocket, he handed me my phone and waited. You bet that I wasted no time in making my call. “Hello…hello…Double-D how far? Abeg, abeg hep me yarn mumsy say make she kon help me o! I dey Area-G now untop some unnecessary fuck-up. Ehn? Ah! Na till tomorrow before she go enter Lag? Chai!...em…okay. No problem. I no kuku get choice. But abeg help me beg am say na emergency o! Okay…Okay..Nice one! Thanks mehn! Safe!”
“You try! 1 minute, 23 seconds. Make you relax well ehn? You know say bail no go show until tomorrow? Hahaha!” the idiotic officer let out and left. I cursed him under my breath. Me? Try for making a call with my own phone? Na wa o! But anyway, he did make a good point about me needing to relax because my friend sure made me understand that help wouldn’t come my way until the next day. I sighed and went back to fanning ‘Presido’ and his cohorts who were already shouting “Oya come back joor! Heat don dey blow us”.
Almost stark naked and feeling miserable, I kept pushing sleep away that night till everyone in my cell was fast asleep and snoring loudly. I couldn’t risk any of those filthy and smelly fools developing any funny idea and try to put ‘kini’ in my virgin bumbum. Although I did hear faint voices from other cells, I felt safe in mine with my crime-committing colleagues sleeping.
“God…please, I’m very sorry. Please send Double-D’s mum to my rescue and I’ll never stick my prick inside any married woman’s pussy again. Please!!!” I prayed before finally giving in to the pestering slumber. That very night, I dreamt that ‘Madam’ visited me in the cell and offered me freedom on the condition that I fuck her one last time right there with the other inmates watching. According to her, it was one of her many fantasies to be fucked silly in jail with a viewing audience. I’m not actually sure about the number of times I screamed “No!” but I’m sure madam instantly disappeared when I was woken up with another heavy slap on my left cheek. My eyes opened to capture the view of ‘Presido’ looming over me and saying “Shut up joor! Which one be “No” again? Abi dem dey pursue you for your village? Mtscheew!!!” It wasn’t till he left me for his original position that I realised I had my left palm on the left side of my face and it both stung and felt hot. However, what I felt couldn’t be compared to what I received earlier and I considered the possibility of a compulsory slap-training program for all force men.
Morning eventually came and meehhnnn!....was I fucking relieved when that stupid officer who stole from me re-visited, this time bellowing “Mr. Adebola!..Mr. Adebola! Today na your lucky day o! God don butter your bread.” I was up in an instant and rushed at the bars of the cell, grabbing on to two and waiting for the idiot to show his face. When he finally did, he said to me in a hush voice “Guy, I no know say you get mouth like this o! We never release anybody for here without bail before.”
“Please let me out! Let me out! I am not a criminal” I yelled at him but he only yelled back “Wait joor! I dey come” before unlocking the cell door and letting me out. I ran back to the counter to meet three people in police uniform discussing and upon recognising my friend’s mum, I went flat on the floor in a full prostrate. “Thank you ma..Thank you ma!...God will bless you ma!”
“ADEBOLA!!! Adebola!” My friend’s mum began “My son told me you had an emergency but…but….(bursting into a laugh)…I never expected to hear this. What were you even thinking? Would you rather I let your father know about this?”
“Ah! No ma o! Please ma…I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again” I said looking at my feet. By now, the other two officers had joined in the laughter of mockery. “Hmmn…Okay, I won’t tell on you but you must never allow such to happen again. UNDERSTOOD???”
“Yes ma!” I said with quick nods and a shudder before it was all over. “Alright men…I’ll take it from here. Thanks for your cooperation and please don’t forget what to tell his boss when he calls or visits”
“Yes sir!” the officers chorused with a hard salute. “We won’t fail to let him know you’re now in charge of the case”. I automatically understood that my rescuer was by far; their superior colleague and I felt more than secure in her care.
Once outside, I got into the Honda Element which my buddy’s mum drove and we set out of the station for home. As we drove past the station’s gates, we received powerful salutes again and my guardian was compelled to part with some crisp notes for the saluting men on duty.
“Here, one of the policemen asked me to give this to you” she said to me when we were already manoeuvring through busy streets. I took the envelope which her arm extended and opened it to find a sack letter signed by the human resources head at ‘Bongafish’s company. I didn’t betray any emotion because I knew I didn’t even require a formal notice to realise I couldn’t go back to the office.
My saviour remained silent till she dropped me off at my abode and I thanked her again profusely before walking in slowly for a warm bath and some real sleep. Though I was fagged-out from my experience, it certainly felt good to be home again
Staying at home afforded me more than enough time to get over the unfortunate incident and shower attention on my ‘Twitter P’ while I made several online applications in my attempts to secure another job. I literally had her ‘sold’ with my tale of being on a brief leave from official duties at the office and got her promising to visit the following day. Even though she said she would be coming over to finally meet her ‘favourite tweetmate’ I knew all she really wanted was the mouth-watering cash that I promised her. I couldn’t bother much because I was sure that she would be ‘working hard’ to earn it. Besides, it wasn’t really my money that I would be giving her. You know nau! My bank account was still quite fat, courtesy of my ex-lover aka Madam aka Bongafish’s insatiable wife. Oh yeah! I also sold the same ‘leave’ lie to both my parents and brother with the hope that a new job would come my way really soon.
The very day that ‘Twitter P’ showed up at my crib turned out to be one that I will continue to remember for a long time to come. The moment I opened my front door to receive her, my jaw dropped. You really should have seen her mayne! She was a sight to behold. With quite an appealing face, she turned out to be way prettier than she looked on any of her online pictures. She had on Brazilian hair and looked fabulous in a tight-fitting blouse that revealed much cleavage on an equally tight pair of low-waist jeans. “Damn gurl! You hawt!” came my hello, which made her blush. She responded with a shy “Thank you” before coming in and as she walked past me into the house, I drooled on sighting her silver waist-chain which slightly covered a rose tattoo just above her fresh-looking upper arse. “Oh goody-goody!” I told myself. I knew for sure that this ‘hawtie’ would be worth both my time and money…………………………
THE STORY AIN’T OVER JUST YET!............THE 7TH CHAPTER IS THE CHARM!!!
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