TIAMIYU APAOKAGI : THE HUMAN BAOBAB (2).

 

TIAMIYU APAOKAGI : THE HUMAN BAOBAB (2)

 

After I doubled Apaokagi’s salary and offered scholarship up to university level to his two eldest sons, I practically made him a member of my family.

He went everywhere with me: meetings, church, parties, community programs, office et cete ra.

One of the meetings I ensured he went with me is our monthly Landlords’ Association meeting. We hold this meeting on the last Saturday of every month. That day is usually observed as the Monthly Environmental Sanitation Day. It takes place between 7am and 10am. Our meeting holds between 8am and 9am only. It is a place of camaraderie of sorts. 

Through the Landlords’ Association, I bonded very well with most landlords in our area – except one man opposite my house who works with the Local Government service in a nearby state. He ran his drainage across the frontage of my house. That is not the problem I have with him. The problem is that he flushes out all wastewater from his house through that drain. (I passed all wastewater from my house into a soak-away so I don’t use that drainage). 

The thing collects in front of my house smelling and breeding mosquitoes. When I asked him to extend the drain to the empty plot of land opposite me, he insulted me to his heart’s content. I have been thinking about how to deal with him until another robbery occurred in my neighbour’s house.

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We went for another meeting, one particular month, and we got a report that one landlady, a sweet elderly woman – a widow, had been robbed overnight.

The meeting deliberated on what other measures to take to ensure tighter security of our estate. After all suggestions were considered, the most appealing one was made by a man who works with – Globacom - one of the Telecom Service companies in our country.
The suggestion made by Mr Glo (that’s what we call him) appealed to everyone. The specific details, I won’t tell but it must suffice to say that it involved the use of information communication technology.

My neighbour, I mean Mr Wastewater, opposed the measure stiffly. He made a number of puerile arguments. However nobody listened to him. Later he resorted to blackmail. He accused Mr Glo of trying to sell his company’s products to our estate under the guise of making suggestions for further security.
At any rate, we took that measure and everyone was happy – or so it seemed.

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The following day an attempt was made to rob Mr Glo – or more specifically, his wife. Mrs Glo has a shop down the road where she sells daily essentials. One rough-looking boy came to buy some stuff. There was an argument over change. He shouted an expletive at the poor woman who responded in kind and a shouting match ensued.

Soon a small crowd gathered and with them came a few roughnecks who started stealing things from her shop. The woman noticed one of them, held tightly to his shirt-front and shouted ‘Ole, ole’ (Thief, thief).

More people gathered and it was at that moment that Apaokagi drove to the area. He was coming from an errand. He promptly recognised one of the boys he handed to the police some months back, smoking weed.

He caught him and the other boy from Mrs Glo and hauled them into the car. He drove them back to the Police Station.
Our Baale summoned an emergency Landlords’ meeting.
Mr Adewale, a young banker who just moved into his property in the area, suggested we request for more police patrol of the area and increase the number of our Day Guards.

The following day, he was attacked as well.
This was how series of attacks crept into our once very safe neighbourhood.

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Apaokagi was always with me at these meetings. He never said a word at the meetings. He could have said anything and he would be allowed although he wasn’t a landlord there. He was only permitted to sit with me because of me and because of his past exploits which the area acknowledged.

I began to wonder why he kept silent at those meetings.
So I called him into my living room one evening.
“Tiamiyu, you have been silent at those meetings. I took you there to advise us on security”

“Siamon, abeg no vex sir. Na think I been dey think all this while”
“Then let us know what you are thinking. You have been thinking for like 5 months?”

“I sorry sir”. Then the dark skin of his forehead creased into furrows. I recognised that sign instantly. He wanted to say something serious.

“Siamon sir, shey you no see say the thing get as e dey happen?”
“Wetin get as e dey happen?”
“I mean all these attacks sir”
“Tell me..”

“Siamon sir, you no see say anytime when somebody give advice for that your meeting, na that person dem go attack next time?”
My brain scanner went to work immediately…Mr Glo’s wife, Banker Adewale, Elder Martins, Mrs Morakinyo. I sprang up on my feet!

“You are damn correct, Tiamiyu Apaokagi” I shouted as I pointed a finger at him approvingly.
“But what does that tell us?”
“Siamon sah…you be proper, original Yoruba man sah, the insect wey dey chop vegetable dey under him leaf o”
“Meaning?”

“Meaning sah, say somebody dey that ya meeting wey be say na him dey on top that matter”

I looked at him and as I always do in moments like this and felt thankful to God for pushing this ex-soldier across my path.
 

“You are right, but who could it be?”
“Siamon, na the question wey we go answer next be that. I get person I dey suspect sha”. He said and looked at me intently.
“You do?” I asked and he nodded confidently.
Just then, my wife came in and announced that dinner was ready.
We all moved to the Dinning Table.

(To be continued)

Happy Democracy Day 2017!

Omi Tuntun maa ru, e f'okan ba'le! 

Orisun: Kehinde Ayoola JP

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About Olayemi Oniroyin