CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

While the new chairman of the EFCC was busy going through the file of the notorious Free-Hand, Colour, a wide grin on his face, drove Ken Solomon around the city of Abuja in his Volkswagen beetle. He maneuvered the green car in-between two speeding Keke NAPEP, the popular tri-cycle mode of transport in the city and grinned at a fascinated looking KS who smiled back at him and nodded his head approvingly. They had met two days after their lunch at the African Kitchen where Colour had listened to him patiently as he narrated his ordeal. He had stared quietly at him at first and then became more interested when he told him the concluding part of how he had lost millions of dollars to a faceless gang in Nigeria through their phony telecommunication deal and on his one man mission to track down the smart syndicate and if lucky recover part of his money.

Colour stared thoughtfully at him with surprise, shook his head sadly and then ruptured into laugh. Ken Solomon not finding it funny at first stared surprisingly at him and then joined him in laughing to the astonishment of other dinners.

‘’Jesus – Christ! You mean you allowed yourself to fall for one of the cheapest 419 deals around here?” Colour remarked amid a comical laugh.

“ Yes, I fell a sucker. God! I wish I could give my head some thorough bashing sometime.” KS replied still laughing.

Colour had paused in his laughter and stared dumbfounded at him and then concluded that the white man was not only careless but a carefree human being, the latter appealed to him and he decided there and then to assist him in whatever way he could. He told himself, but was surprised when he heard the next line from Ken Solomon.

“ I am willing to pay you and retail your service as my guide if you can lead me to them” KS offered now smiling broadly at him.

“ And why do you think I know them?” Colour asked with a smile

“ You are a Nigerian and you look like a smart one to me. I have this strong intuition that you can help me find these people.”

“ Why not go to the police or the relevant agencies in charge of financial crimes like the EFCC you’ve mentioned and the ICPC, the Independent Corrupt Practice Commission or the military, depending on your link. Why- me? I am just a freelance-journalist who is trying to run an NGO, remember? ”

“ The more reason why I want you. You are independent and will have more time for me. And moreover, I am still determine to make this incidence a quite one, this for my reputation and importantly not to stir the suspicious of these faceless criminals and make them go deep underground with my money.” KS told him with a serious look on his face.

Colour stared thoughtfully at him, and pondered silently on his statement and then his offer. He saw reason with his plan and knew deep inside him that the white man was right. Going to the police, the EFCC or the ICPC might not solved his problem; rather they were bound to compound them the more with the normal bureaucratic sluggishness, sudden interest from above and high massive bribery and corruption since a lot of millions was involved and not the Nigerian naira but the mighty dollar. He concluded and made up his mind to join the friendly white man who was willing to pay him to go after some faceless criminals fraudulently destroying his beloved country’s image across the world.

“ But you know it’s not going to be easy.” He finally announced his eyes still in a thoughtful mood.

“ I know, but it is possible?” KS responded confidently.

“ Why not, you won’t have traveled this far if you were not convinced of possibility. Yes, it’s possible, but it’s going to be dangerous, adventurous and expensive. Two hundred and twenty million US dollars is a lot of money. Many countries could go to war for that amount in this part of the continent and also many individuals are ready to sacrifice their lives to own that huge amount.” Colour told him and grinned wryly at him.

“ I am willing to take a chance and see where I stop. Right now, I have little money left, but I have always live on one thing more important than money which is hope and I believe it will see me through this present predicament. All I need is your assistance as a human being like me who could as well be in my shoes irrespective of race or continent. I worked hard for that money, it is my sweat.” KS told him with a thoughtful worried look.

Colour had stared thoughtfully once again at him, saw the brief unhappy look on his face, noted his sincerity and humility and then extended his hand in a handshake.

“ I am in, you have my full assistance.” He told him proudly with a broad smile.

“Thanks, I won’t forget this. So how much is your fee?” KS asked, still holding his hand.

“ For now nothing. You just need to settle the bills as we move along. Let see where the chase would lead us, then from there we shall agree.” Colour responded looking him straight in the eyes.

Ken Solomon had stared quizzically at him, released his hand slowly and then brooded over what he said.

“Very well then, as you wish, but I thought there should be a price that would motivate you to do this.” He finally asked with his wry grin.

“ Yes, I know, but like you, I have something bigger than money in me which is patriotism. I believe it is the most important price and motivation I need for now.”

Colour had responded confidently with a smile and the two-man pact was sealed with an arrangement to start their first move the next day.

And here they were, riding through the bustling city of Abuja in the midday sun as Nigerians and other foreigners’ alike jostle from one corner of the fast developing expensive city to another on their various quests of the day. The day was breezy with a misty looking sky and a touch of light-yellowish blush amid a blue cloud. Ken Solomon instantly fell in love with the weather. His blue eyes took on the sky and the high paced commuters around him. His eyes also stared at the confident swagging long- city buses with their piles of seated or hanging passengers. He noted the various corporate advertisements on the buses as he loosened up his two top buttons from his brown denim top to feel the breeze and at the same time nodded his head to the Afro-beat tune by Fela playing from the car stereo.He was dressed in blue jeans, a brown-top over a white vest and a pair of blue and white sneakers. He smiled up at Colour who had his concentration on the moving traffic.

“ I like your shirt, beautiful flowering top.” KS told him loudly amid the song.

“ Oh , thank you. You’re not looking bad yourself, nice designer top and a unique pen ”

Colour replied loudly, half glancing at KS’s Mike & Spencer shirt with his distinct silver pen. He was on a sleeveless flowering African print over a black linen trouser and a pair of black skin sandals.

‘’ Thanks, just a writing pen, a birthday gift actually.’’ KS responded with a soft smile.

Colour nodded at him, half glancing at the pen again and then cut through the Central Bank building where KS stared admiringly at the structure and they headed towards CIDI plaza, sliding through the Central Business Area and headed towards the Federal Secretariat.

“ So ,where are we starting from?” KS finally asked as they drove along the fast moving double lanes.

They had actually parted ways on Saturday with an agreement to meet at the Mercury lobby around eleven on Monday being a working day to start their two men adventure. He smiled broadly when Colour led him to the beetle at the car park. He had actually stared in his cynical grin at the impressive looking Volkswagen and then hopped into the passenger seat.

“Sweet old beetle.” He finally complimented as they drove out of the hotel to the surprised of some of the eager looking hired drivers beside their clean looking rental cars. They had eagerly hope that the white man would hire one of them for the day on his way out as usual and swell up their pockets with heavy tips, probably a valuable crispy dollar note.

“We are going somewhere isolated to talk, think, and strategize on the best way to tackle this problem, and we can’t do that with so many eyes on us. Remember, you are still a white man in town and my people are always interested in a white man and his activities.”

Colour told him as he slowed down for traffic close to the Ministry of Finance building where a group of almajiris ( Child beggars) swamped over their car with their trade-mark bowls in their hands and chorused loudly, begging for arms. And close by two little girls with bucket of sachet water on their heads hawk their goods loudly to every passerby.

Ken Solomon stared surprisingly at them with an amazed look, but didn’t say anything.

“ I understand. So how far is this place we are going? And what is the groove there?” He asked instead, his eyes still on the hungry looking youngsters as they dashed after one car and the other on the risky lanes.

“ Just about forty-five kilometers from here. What do you mean by groove? I don’t understand” Colour asked as the traffic light showed green and they joined the moving traffic towards the express.

Ken Solomon suddenly smiled and stared quizzically at him. He deliberated if he should ask him what has been on his mind since stepping into the country. Finally, he decided to take the plunge and rest his desperate mind. “ I need a smoke…” He announced slowly with trance-like look.

Colour stole a short glance at him and at the pack of London cigarette on his dashboard ‘’ Why not , please help yourself.” He replied and returned his eyes to the road.

Ken Solomon stared cynically at the pack and then grinned. “Okay, I need some weed,” He corrected.

Colour glanced at him and suddenly grinned sarcastically. “Okay, now I grab. You mean you need some grass?”

“ Yeah, some good African grass.” KS replied and then chuckled excitedly.

'‘Ask, and yeah shall be given.” Colour responded jokingly and pressed down on the accelerator as the beetle jerked forward and zoomed towards Jabi Park.





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The beetle made a bend close to Berger junction and headed towards Utako modern market, swept through Eden Garden hotel, took a short-cut that brought them close to a popular church and hit the major high way along Jabi park and then finally slowed down at an intersection that led to a green square. Here, Colour, a smile on his face, gave a secret sign to one of the young men around. The guy in a faded black combat khaki and a sleeveless t-shirt nodded and moved casually to the parked beetle. He shook hands with Colour and stared strangely at Ken Solomon who beamed at him.

“ How far, wetin dey happen?” The guy asked Colors, his eyes still staring at KS.

“Happiness, data me five, hope na correct stuff sha? Colour asked the guy in street language.

The young peddler nodded happily and secretly fetched out five parcels of weed, wrapped in white writing pad and secretly passed them to Colour who dropped them in his pigeon hole and then handed the guy some cash with the car engine still running. He bid farewell to the guy and slowly eased back into the moving traffic. The whole transaction had taken less than three minutes and KS had noted the whole deal with curiosity. Deep inside him, he suddenly felt some tickle of excitement, conscious that he finally now could smoke a grass.

Colour cut through Jabi dam and negotiated a right bend leading to Kado estate where he hit the express leading into Gwarinpa estate, the biggest housing estate in Nigeria and reputed to be the largest in Africa. He drove through the estate and made a stop suddenly at a small roadside market where he bought sliced sugarcane from a young man. He then bought four pieces of roasted corn and some fresh looking sliced coconuts, two bottle of 35cl table water, including five pieces of pure sachet water. This to the amazement of Ken Solomon who stared at the transactions from the passenger seat and on impulse, he brought out his leather wallet and made to count out some notes, but Colour stopped him placing his hand on his white hand.

“Please, allow me. These ones are on me. We welcome strangers with the little we can offer in this part. If I have, I spend, if I don’t have, I look.” Colour told him with a smile.

KS made to protest, but change his mind when he noticed that Colour had hurriedly settled the bills and eased back the car to the moving traffic. Colour grinned and stole a silent glance at him, then hit the six-lane express with Fela Anikulapho’s hit song: Gentleman, blazing from the resilient looking green beetle.



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