Fisayo’s Warning

"Jide, you should stop taking your laptop home. Leave it in the office and lock it. It's safer that way"

I looked up from where I sat, and smiled at Fisayo - that kind of knowing smile you give when a little child makes a cute but asinine remark. It was Monday morning, and I certainly didn’t have time for iranu.

“And if I don’t? What’s the worst that could happen?” I queried.

“Ah! Don’t say that oh.” Fisayo exclaimed, “Someone can easily snatch it from you on the road. And it is even against company policy to carry laptops out of the office if you don’t have a car.”

Now I was beginning to think that one of his ogas had sent him to me. I did a quick scan through the office to see if we were being watched covertly.

“Well, I have been carrying my personal laptop for years now, and nothing has happened. So free me.”

“But, you have a laptop at home,” Fisayo insisted. “Can’t you carry some of your work home and use your personal laptop?”

“Yes, I could. But it could get messy with all the similar files of different versions in separate laptops. I like to keep things simple, and it’s simpler this way,” I rationalized. “Who want to come and snatch my laptop sef? Ehn?”

“Me, I don’t know oh!” Fisayo said, backing away with his hands up in the air. “When something happens now, don’t come and ask me who sent them oh!”

We laughed profusely at Fisayo’s joke.

Fisayo is my friend and colleague at the Lagos Business School, and we’re currently running an internship programme in a company in Ikeja. He is not the loquacious type, so I wonder what made him come to my desk with such comments l’aaro kutukutu. Had I been the superstitious type, I’d have said it was some form of divine warning (I hadn’t watched enough African Magic to jump to that conclusion). But I decided it was better to be safe than sorry. So I took the most rational (I think!) decision, and left my laptop at work that day. And the next day. And the next day.

Now Thursday (today) was a different issue. I travelled during the day and left some work unattended to. So I had a lot of catching up to do when I got back. I left my workplace by 7pm. This time around I didn’t even give it a thought: I simply packed my laptop into my laptop bag and headed out of the office. I had 3 stops before going home, and they were all on Allen Avenue. So I made the first stop at the ATM, withdrew some cash, and then stopped at my friend’s place. The plan was to make a final stop at Stop Centre (no pun intended!) and then head home. But Stop Centre was closed already.

‘Oh well,’ I thought to myself, ‘Lemme end the day with an ice-cream cone.” KFC was just beside Stop Centre and it was looking so bright, busy and full. So I went in. After waiting for a couple of minutes, I bought the ice-cream and headed out to hail a cab home.

Just a few paces away from KFC, a bike zoomed past me. A guy alighted from the bike and headed directly towards me. He brought out a metal something.

“You, stop there. I am holding a gun. Kneel down. Drop your bag.”

I froze. Literally. This guy was actually holding something that looked like a gun. My mind raced. What should I do? Was that a gun? I stepped back a little.

“I said stop there!” the gunman barked. He charged forward, attempting to grab my bag, but I held on to it, firmly.

A second bike pulled over and another man alighted and came directly at me again. This one held a metal rod.

“Guy, drop that bag!” he said. And with his rod, he hit my wrist. The laptop bag dropped involuntarily. The guy picked it up and ran forward with his second. I chased them, trying to get the bag back.

The bikes they used seem to appear out of nowhere, and they got on it, and zoomed off.

It all happened in a split second. I paused for a moment, then it hit me: they just stole the office laptop! I momentarily lost my senses. My laptop? Office laptop? Oh my God! And I was warned. I was warned. I was warned. I kept repeating “I was warned”, like it was some life-saving mantra. Some passersby came to enquire what happened. I simply ignore them and walked on. I wanted to get home as quickly as possible. Everybody seemed a suspect. Every dark corner seemed to house another robber on the verge of pouncing. My pace quickened and I hailed the next available bike. And I went home.

Now, as I type this I realize Fisayo’s warning was actually a divine one – African Magic or no African Magic. And I disregarded it to my own peril. My current psychological state is in a maze and is sort of hard to describe. Am I feeling angry? Definitely not…something deeper. Hurt? Nope...something much stronger. Confused? Close, but no. Devastated? Yes. Exactly. I am devastated.

I’m going to do a couple of things. And if you are a reader, you’d be wise to do them too. Please don’t be like me and rationalize. I’ve carried a laptop on the streets of Lagos for over 7 years (I had to count!). I’m practically a night crawler…I define late as anything past 10:30pm. I’ve travelled from Awka, Anambra State and gotten to Lagos at midnight with my laptop slung over my shoulders. My laptop was my second skin, and tonight I was flayed. So when I say this could happen to anybody, please trust me.

So, as much as humanly possible,

1. My laptop is always going to be in the trunk of a cab or car when I’m in transit
2. I’m out of my office by 5:30 latest. Any work undone will be done the next day, God helping me
3. 7pm should always meet me in my house. Late has just been redefined.

Now, the quality of my life can take two different turns. At one extreme, I become overly cautious and suspicious and sensitive; looking from the both corners of my eyes and being afraid of even my shadow. At the other extreme, I might decide to live life at its fullest because the next second might be my last – merrymaking, clubbing, partying, and generally having fun would become the order of the day. Let’s see how it goes.

Of course there’s a third option. But the chances that I’d remain the same person I was before the incident is not just very slim – it’s clearly impossible. Sadly.

Marian

The last thing I remembered, just before I felt the heat, was thinking that I would never get to reply her message.

Then the heat came. Where am I? I tried to open my eyes, but they were already open. I couldn’t see anything. Everywhere was black. Pitch black. The air was smelly and thick. The ground felt rocky, uneven, and hot. I wondered if the heat was emanating from a furnace beneath. I tried to take a tentative step forward but couldn’t - something was hindering my stride. The attempted movement caused a bit of scraping sound on the ground. As seeing was close to impossible, I stooped to feel what was causing the impediment. That’s when I realized my feet were bound in chains! Big and rusty metallic shackles encircled my ankles, with the chains leading into the ground! I started to panic. My heart was beating so fast, I could feel the palpitations in my throat! How did I get here? Who has held me against my will? Where on earth is this place? I began to sweat profusely. Subconsciously, my lips began to move in a voiceless prayer, as my hands periodically wiped off huge balls of sweat from my face.

Sensing the hopelessness of my situation and the need for some rational thought, I begged my senses to calm down. By now, my eyes had adjusted to the palpable darkness surrounding me. I stared forward, trying to bring together, bit by bit, pieces of my surroundings.

I was in a very big and wide space. The ground stretched as far as my eyes could see. As I stood in the middle of this large expanse of nothingness, my semi-tranquil thoughts wondered to how I got here. Then I remembered.

Marian.

As a child, I grew up having the best of morals. My father taught me the essence of right and wrong, and brought to my awareness that all my actions, good or bad, inevitably spawned consequences. I followed his teachings diligently, being careful to do what he considered good, and abstaining from what he considered evil. It was no coincidence that I went to private schools all my life. My primary school was a Catholic Private School close to home. My secondary school was a Baptist Boys’ school. My university ‘happened’ to be one of all these private Christian universities being used a dump site by parents who have resigned from their God-given full time jobs. Therefore, all my life was lived in deference to the teachings of my father, until I met her.

I met her on my first day in postgraduate school. I had just secured admission into the prestigious Lagoon Business School, and we were being given a tour of the facilities. We had just been ushered into the dining room, and while everyone was rushing to get into the hall so as to get ahead in the food queue, I waited patiently at the door for the hustling to die down. It was at that moment I spotted her. She walked right past me as she moved towards the door. I held my breath. Time seemed to slow down to a mindless drag, the noise whistling down to a reverberating silence. As she gracefully glided through the metal frames supporting the wooden door, I could spot every element of her facial features: her wine-colored braided hair resting on her shoulders; her delicate nose; her ebony cheeks; her steady heartbeat (I swear I could hear it!). Did she just look my way? I realized I was still holding my breath. I reminded myself to breathe.

We got talking during one of our class sessions. She told me her name was Marian. She studied Accounting. We were both holding blackberry devices so we exchanged blackberry PINs. In retrospect, this turned out to be the greatest mistake of my very short life.

The instant messaging began. We were sending messages to each other in class, out of class, at home, in school, from dusk till dawn. And what did we talk about? Everything, yet nothing. At the initial phase when boy meets girl, almost all of their thoughts, words and actions are geared towards the physical. Ours was no exception. Our eyes were constantly meeting in class, often ending in stifled giggles. We were high school teenagers all over again.

The first time we kissed was right in front of her house immediately after classes. I brought her home in my car, and after a little bit of small talk, she reached over and kissed me. I was startled; my world was spinning. It felt like air was sucked out of my lungs. The kiss seemed to last for an eternity and felt so potent, I had to steady my breathing afterwards. We said goodnight as she alighted from my car, and I drove home.

As I drove, different thoughts hammered in my head. Jide what did you just do? Don’t you know that you just went against everything your father stood for? Everything he told you? Kai. But is it supposed to be so pleasurable? How could something so sinful be so sweet? Little wonder Brother Adam couldn’t resist the juicy fruit. Who made me any better than my brother?

From that day on, I made it my personal duty to drop Marian at her house. And, of course, we always did the usual; until one day Marian said to me,

‘Jide, don’t you want to come in?’

What?! I was speechless.

“Er…em…yes, er… of course,’ I stuttered.

And so with hands clasped around each other’s waists, heads fused side by side, we walked into her apartment, and closed the door.

Next morning was a school day. I had to quickly rush home, freshen up, and come to school. It was 8:00 AM. The first session starts by 9:30 AM and I did not want to be late. So I said a quick goodbye to Marian, who was in the bathroom, rushed into my car and sped off, without bothering to buckle my seatbelt.

On the road, with the gas pedal pressed to the floor, I could not help thinking about the activities of last night. I knew I had passed the point of no return. My Blackberry beeped. Holding the steering wheel with one hand, I tried to access my Blackberry message. “I miss you already”, it said. I decided to punch in a quick response with my free right hand. That was when it happened. The driver of the car in front of me, for no apparent reason, decided to apply his brakes. I was still on my blackberry, in between words, when I noticed the stop. But it was too late. I jammed my foot on the brakes, swerving sharply to the right to avoid a collision. My tires screeched loudly, the car still moving, obviously out of my control. The impact came when I least expected it. I hit a concrete NEPA pole by the side of the road. I found myself hurling towards my windscreen, head first. I heard my blackberry smash into the NEPA pole, just before my head collided with it too.

The last thing I remembered, just before I felt the heat, was thinking that I would never get to reply her message.

But all that happened just a few moments ago, or so it seemed. Where am I now? Have I been kidnapped by some ritual killers? Where are they? Why can’t I see anyone now? As these thoughts flew through my mind, I noticed a movement behind me. I turned, and I saw a figure emerge out of nowhere. It was tall and dark, with certain human and animal features I could not immediately make out because of the absence of light. Two long horn-like protrusions grew from the top of a head which housed two fiery eyes. A long and pointed tail followed it like an unwanted shadow. One hand was stretched towards my direction, while the other one gripped a long pitchfork. There was something familiar about the figure. I couldn’t lay a finger on it. The humanoid took a step towards me and smiled, revealing pincer-like dentition. Then it laughed – a loud and blood-curling shriek. It suddenly dawned on me: I knew where I was! With the revelation came a feeling of total despair; the darkness finally assuming corporeality, closed in on me. I was going to be here a very, very long time.

Marian.

Damn.

Lucifer’s laughter echoed through the abyss.