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‘He knows I have the police here under my control, that’s why he went and lodged his complaints with the Zonal Command in Calabar. But they still don’t have any proof. Money laundering of all charges. He wants to get me into jail and the only thing he could come up with is money laundering.’
Cash Daddy laughed. This tactic of digging into a co-contender’s past to unearth crimes was proving quite effective in many states around the country. Just last week, a House of Representatives candidate in Delta State had been disqualified for spending four years in an Italian jail for drug trafficking. The man had kept denying the allegation until his opponents published the twenty-year-old records, which they had obtained from the Italian police, in five national dailies.
‘At first, I tried to be considerate,’ Cash Daddy continued. ‘I had pla
Fortunately, I was not required to answer.
Cash Daddy tucked his hands beneath his T-shirt and started slapping a rhythm on his belly.
‘I’m very hungry,’ he a
From what I had heard of our police cells, the facilities in a horse stable were supposed to be better.
Cash Daddy stretched his upper jaw to the North Pole, his lower jaw to the South Pole, and yawned. A billion mosquitoes must have lost their lives in the malodorous fumes from his mouth. Cleaning his teeth must have been the very last thing on his mind this morning.
‘I’m sure the whole of Nigeria has been trying to reach me,’ he said, switching on the cellular phone Protocol Officer had returned to him.
His face split in another yawn. He peered through his tinted window. A blue Bentley was coming from the opposite direction.
‘Is that not World Bank?’ he asked excitedly.
Protocol Officer had already seen the oncoming car and confirmed that it was.
‘I haven’t seen him in a long time,’ Cash Daddy said. ‘Stop!’
The driver stopped. Exactly where the Jaguar was in the middle of the road. He wound down Cash Daddy’s window from the control panel in front, and Cash Daddy stuck his head out. World Bank noticed his pal and must have commanded his own driver who stopped directly beside us. Also in the middle of the road.
‘Your Excellency!’ World Bank hailed. ‘Long time no see!’
‘My brother,’ Cash Daddy replied, ‘you know it’s not my fault. I’ve been very busy with the campaigns. Every day it’s one meeting after another.’
‘It’s a good thing I saw you now. Very soon, we’ll have to fill forms and go through all sorts of protocol before we can see you.’
‘That’s the way life is,’ Cash Daddy replied apologetically. ‘From one level to another. Anyway, we shall survive. How are things with you?’
‘Cash Daddy, let me give you notice. I’m throwing a party for my parents’ fiftieth wedding a
By this time, there was a pile up of cars in both directions of the busy road, a road made even narrower by erosion and debris. The accommodating drivers waited for what they assumed would be a brief chat. When it went on for longer than was acceptable by highway etiquette, many of them started honking. Some stuck out their heads and yelled earnest invectives. Cash Daddy and World Bank were unperturbed. They continued their chitchat to its natural conclusion before saying goodbye.
While the driver was pressing the control to slide Cash Daddy’s window back up, a man who was about four cars behind World Bank’s Bentley, leaned out of a Datsun Su
‘Thieves!’ he shouted. ‘419ers! Please get out of the way! Was it your dirty money that built this road?’
As we drove on and past the Datsun Su
‘Don’t mind him, don’t mind him,’ Cash Daddy said calmly, like the elephant who had just been told that the spider was coming to wage war against her. ‘Just ignore him. You don’t blame him, his problem is just poverty. Can’t you see the type of car he’s driving? If you were the one driving that type of car, wouldn’t you be angry? That’s why I don’t like poor people around me. They’re always looking for someone to blame for their problems.’
Reluctantly, Protocol Officer wound his window back up. Cash Daddy wagged his finger at me.
‘But that doesn’t mean you should cut off all the poor people you know,’ he warned. ‘They don’t have to be very close to you, but it’s good to keep them within reach, because they can come in handy once in a while. Me, I know enough pepper and tomato sellers who can start a riot for me any day I want.’
As we drove on, there was silence for a while. But not for too long.
‘How did it go at the American Embassy?’
‘I collected my visa yesterday.’
I gave brief details of the stressful interview.
‘Don’t worry about all that,’ Cash Daddy said. ‘By the time you reach America, you’ll see that it was worth it. That’s the same way they’ll stress you at the point of entry, but it still doesn’t matter. They’ll even bring big, big dogs to sniff your whole body, but that’s how they treat every other Nigerian, so there’s no need for you to start thinking you’ve done something wrong. The only way you can avoid all that stress is to get an American passport.’
He yawned again.
‘You’re lucky that you’re not yet married,’ Cash Daddy continued. ‘If I’d thought about it early enough, I would’ve married a woman who’s a British or American citizen. By now I would have had my own full citizenship.’
He tossed his head back onto the headrest.
‘By the way, Kings, have you decided when you’re getting married?’
I snorted.
‘You think it’s fu
‘Ah! Protocol Officer? Congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ he replied without looking behind. Years of sitting in the front of Cash Daddy’s vehicles had taught him the art of turning his ears around without turning his head. I tried to imagine all that his ears must have soaked in while sitting there all these years.
When we drove through the gates of the mammoth mansion, nine men ran out of the house to welcome Cash Daddy. As soon as he stepped out of the car, almost all of them struggled to be the ones to clean his shoes. That was when it occurred to me just how much all of us loved him, how much he meant to us. What would become of all of us if he went to jail? Then I remembered the gifts I bought for him. I grabbed the carrier bag from the floor of the car before climbing out after him.
‘Cash Daddy, here’s something I got for you in Lagos,’ I said, stretching the bag out to him respectfully, with my two hands and with a slight stoop.