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The Conductor Ran Away With My Money
Ezechi called me from Awka, the capital of Anambra State the other day, where he is working. Ezechi is my friend. He holds a Bsc in Hospital and Tourism Management. His call was for me to help him send his CV to a five star hotel in the Port-Harcourt city, Rivers State. I promised helping him since I live in the State. He told me that he was going to send the CV via email, and he demanded for my email address. As soon as I read the letter of my email address for him my phone tripped-off. My phone didn’t trip-off due to the battery was low, but the phone has outlived its expiry date, a close friend told me when I complained. Now, my mind was beating that Ezechi would say that I switched-off my phone purposefully because it now involves my rendering help to him. I tried to bury this mix feelings but could not, I ran for a payphone and called him to explain what happened to my phone when we were discussing. We don’t doubt each other, Ezechi understands and feels for me. I asked him to phone me anytime he sent the CV. After one day he called me and said that he has sent the CV in my email box. I promised him going to the cyber café the following day to print out the CV and go deliver it the same day. He was happy, like wise myself for his understanding.
Early in the morning of the following day there was a heavy down pour. I woke-up from the bed and brought all the buckets, basins and water cans we had under the running Zinc to fill. Also, I used the shovel to remove blockages from the water runway in our compound. And now my heart was living on my throat because our street is always flooded when there is rain. Though, there was a gutter the residents dug themselves to help the ocean runaway. But the problem this gutter has is that the-water-escape-route to join the bigger gutter on the main road is not much. And often, ‘poor-water’ sachets and dirt block it, thereby making the water run slowly.
When I woke-up finally in the morning, I went to the water-escape-route and used a stick to open the place. The water began to run faster, but looking to our street, there is no tendency that the water could go down as soon as possible. Some residents were bailing water from their rooms; passersby and the people who were going to work were putting their legs into the ocean to go to their daily businesses. Especially women, many pulled-off their leg covers, carry them by head, and passed.
Having done this chore that many residents dare not because of the bigeminism feature in human character, I decided to leave for the hotel. I told one Chinedu, a boy who confessed that he likes my style and he is often around me of my intention; his coming around is for me to advice him on the possible means he could travel to Europe, According to him, Nigeria has dilapidated. But I tell him that no means work again, since nothing works in our country. Corruption has taken the prowl. I reminded him of an article that I read; the write described our country as a "Nation of scammers". This was written following the April polls that are marred by fraud and irregularities. I ask Chinedu to rely and have hope in God that at the appointed time He will do it. "That’s why I like you, Dee", he tells me.
After taking my bath and dressing up I left for the cyber café to print out Ezechi’s CV. The cyber café I attended told me N40 to print out a page, as against N30 it is. Though, there is no price control in Nigeria, anyone influences price according to how it may please him or her. I saw the N10 added as cheating since I was the one to buy the tariff for the Internet. I left the cyber café for another where I printed the CV for N30. It was two pages and I paid N60. I finished the one-hour I bought on some other information in the Internet. I came to the road and flagged down an Okada who zoomed me to the bus-stop where I was to board a vehicle for the hotel.
There were a lot of dramas displayed by the commuters and the motor mate when I entered a bus. But the most absurd was when we got to a checkpoint and the driver stopped while the motor mate ran to the back of the police motor where a policeman stood and paid him "bribe" before they allowed our vehicle to pass. Nigerians are tired for this act because no one said a word. It is now like a culture! The motor mate began to collect our fares, after that, he began to call out the bus-stops and commuters who have reached their bus-stops alighted and new ones came in.
When we got to the bus stop where I was supposed to alight, I alighted. The hotel was a pole from the bus-stop. I met the gate man and asked one of them that I heard that the hotel was accepting application. The cool-looking-young security agent called his colleague whom I suspected was his superior. The assumed superior told us that there was nothing of such news. If there was, he was in the position to know first. I thanked them and left to call Ezechi. I got Ezechi online, after many "The number you are calling is not available", and told him of the information that was at stake. He thanked me for my effort and asked me to go back home.
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Writer Profile
Odimegwu Onwumere
Odimegwu Onwumere, a poet and an author, is the Founder, Poet Against Child Abuse (PACA), Rivers State , Nigeria . +2348032552855. apoet25@yahoo.com
If it's prose, he writes stories,
If it's poetry, he writes poems,
If it's drama, he writes screenplays,
And he has achieved some poetry nominations, in the USA and in Canada. He was born in Accra Ghana. A Nigerian by origin and is in his early thirties.
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