READ: The Subtle Threat
I noticed its been a while I wrote down something, been having an uptight schedule, to all my readers I’m sorry, I’m back (I think).
Yesterday was a good as I went on a #LegalHustle to seal a deal. I was early arriving at the proposed venue, an eatery in Surulere area of Lagos, seated and waiting for the arrival of the prospective client, I decided to kill time by dotting the ‘Is’ and crossing the ‘Ts’ of other projects, headphone banging good inspirational vibes ‘Ijoba mixtape (drops here on 3rd Sept)’ into my ears.
It was at this moment I realised its been weeks since I sat in front of a TV to watch something (me and my devices 5et6), then I pulled the plug on my headphone and tried to show interest in the TV, as usual I immediately lost interest in it, and my wandering ears picked up an ensuing conversation between 3 gentlemen (1 white, 2 Igbo men) opposite me.
White: So you’re telling me the papers aren’t ready now?
Igbo2: Yes. I told you the judicial section are on strike, and I’ve spent a lot to get this few ones signed.
White: *smiles* You tell me there’s a strike in this country and only you is aware of this?
Igbo2: I’m telling you, there is strike.
White: How much more will it cost?
Igbo2: An extra 3,000
White: And you don’t bring a proof of this said strike, a newspaper a magazine or something to show this.
Igbo2: Amean, asking anybody.
White: *Gets up, walks towards me* Excuse me sir, please I need your attention for a minute, need you to confirm something for me.
Me: *looking surprised and uninterested, walks with him and he offered a seat next to him. Seated*
White: Please do you know of any strike in Lagos?
Igbo2: Not Lagos, Nationwide.
Me: *reluctantly* well I know about the doctors
White: Any about the judicial staffs i.e. Judges, clerks and the lot?
Me: Well, I know they went on break, they should have resumed.
White: What do you mean break?
Me: Holiday, for the session or summer, don’t know what its called.
White: Thank you very much, you can go back now.
Me: *took my leave and ears still with them, ears on the TV*
White: Mr. Solomon (not real name), I asked you to deliver paper works for me on behalf of my company so as to move down here for business, you charged $5000 for documents I could get $3500, I paid. On Saturday you came with excuses of having to settle Tom and Jerry, I told you to pile up or expenses and I’ll also pay it off, you come now to say you’ve spent about $3000 and you want it back. Well no figure between Saturday and now and you expect me to pour it out? I’ll still pay, if you provide receipts for this $3,000 gifts for Clerks and not judges. My company is getting impatient, so I’m I. You have a week to deliver these papers.
Solomon: You think its easy to go through the stress and all. I’ve spent more than the $3,000 set. Evun I had to go plead with one at his office yesterday.
White: But you said their on strike. *smiles, picked up his glass of juice and sips. His face went emotionless as he dropped the glass* Mr. Solomon, do you know why I love this country and my job?
Solomon: No. Why?
White: Told your friend here I’m new here and needed this documents, he introduced you to me and both of you somewhat turned this to a diary farm.
Igbo1: Jim (not real name), please calm down, I’ll talk to him….
Jim: I am currently calm and its the reason I love the country and my job. Its a free country and I have a lot of time in my hands to become anything I want. Today I’m a calm man, tomorrow I’m a butcher, the day after a surgeon. You have 1week to deliver…
I turned and saw that these men were still seated talking casually, they had not the slightest idea that they had been threatened. I placed my headphones back and pondered on. It was obvious this man was being milked and I felt sorry for him until he gave a subtle threat, then I was convinced he can take care of himself. They went their separate ways and I realised Igbo 1 was a cab driver that drives Jim around hope, I don’t open the dailies to hear about them being mysteriously found dead….
Watch out for my EBOLA article…. Safe
Memoirs of a Pensioner’s son. Not Proofread or Edited