The two men behind laughed rather a lot at this and Chris not being sure whether they were people who laughed much ordinarily or hid malice behind laughter cast a questioning glance at Braimoh, even as he reached for the gift.
“Dem two na my people. No worry.”
Chris took the proffered kolanuts, and thanked Braimoh. Then he gave one to the two men behind as though in appeasement and put the others in his pocket. Seeing where they had been fished out of he would need to wash them before eating.
Emmanuel darted out for a quick goodbye and vanished again behind the main house into the Boys’ Quarters. It had been agreed that he would travel separately to rejoin Chris later.
They passed the first three check-points without trouble. The soldiers and police looked tired and waved cars through rather inattentively. Chris was almost certain that Emmanuel’s Gazette story must be more than marginally responsible for thus putting the law off their guard. He was something else, that boy Emmanuel. Why did we not cultivate such young men before now? Why, we did not even know they existed if the truth must be told! We? Who are we? The trinity who thought they owned Kangan as BB once unkindly said? Three green bottles. One has accidentally fallen; one is tilting. Going, going, bang! Then we becomes I, becomes imperial We.
The traffic was beginning to slow down at the big bend in the road just before the Three Cowrie Bridge. Another check-point, no doubt. Stupid fellows the police; they would choose the approaches to a bridge to disrupt traffic! At long last Braimoh cleared the corner, and ran full tilt into it! This was no ordinary check-point but a major combined army and police operation. There were two military jeeps by the roadside and three police patrol-cars flashing their roof-lamps. Ahead, passengers were being ordered out of vehicles.
Braimoh panicked and made the first move of a hasty U-turn, which was a serious error considering the flashing patrol-cars waiting to give chase! The man behind Chris shouted to Braimoh to get back into line, and he promptly complied. But it would seem his ill-considered move had already been noticed.
“Oga come out quick! Make we use leg.”
Chris was out of the car like a shot and so was the man who had spoken. They were on the kerb side of the road, fortunately.
“Quick, make we de go!”
As they walked smartly away from their car towards the bridge the soldier who seemed to have noticed Braimoh’s suspicious move was coming briskly towards them. Chris was watching him through the corner of his eye until they drew level. The soldier stopped.
“Hey, stop there!” he shouted. Chris and his companion halted on the sidewalk and turned to him, standing on the road. His face was scarred by three heavy marks on either side. He had accompanied his order with the unslinging of his automatic weapon. The width of a car separated him from Chris and his companion.
“Where you de go?”
“We de go Three Cowrie Market.”
“Wetin de inside that bag? Bring am here.”
Chris’s companion walked down the kerb between two cars and opened his dirty shopping bag for the soldier to inspect.
“You there, come down here. Wetin be your name?”
“Sebastian,” replied Chris, using the name of his steward from instant inspiration.
“Sebastian who?”
He didn’t know. But luckily he realized quickly enough that it didn’t much matter.
“Sebastian Ojo.”
“What work you de do?”
“He de sell motor part.”
“Na you I ask? Or na you be him mouth?”
“I de sell motor parts,” said Chris.
“How you de sell motor part and then come de march for leg?”
“Him car knock engine.”
“Shurrup! Big mouth. I no ask you!”
But he had already diverted the scorching fire away from Chris and given him a little respite just when he was beginning to wilt and quiver a bit at the knees. His right hand, heavy and idle beside him, stirred into life and went to his trouser pocket where it found one of the kolanuts and brought it out. The soldier’s eye caught it and lit up. Chris split the nut and gave the bigger half to him and put the other into his own mouth. The soldier took the offering eagerly and crunched it with noisy greed.
“Thank you brother,” he said, fixing his gaze on him and squinting in what might be an effort of memory. “Na only poor man de sabi say him brother never chop since morning. The big oga wey put poor man for sun no de remember. Because why? Him own belle done full up with cornflake and milik and omlate.” He resumed his squint at Chris and then tapped his forehead. “I think say I done see you before before.”