TIAMIYU APAOKAGI: THE HUMAN BAOBAB (3)

 

TIAMIYU APAOKAGI: THE HUMAN BAOBAB (3) -
Kehinde Ayoola JP 

 
After dinner, I could not conceal my excitement. You see whenever I am excited like this; I wouldn’t stop till I get to the bottom of the matter. I always feel like a 17-year old boy going on his first date.
 

While dinner was going on, three leaders from my constituency – two males, one female – came in and joined us at the table. I do not joke with my leaders. They said, in between mouthfuls of fried rice, communited soft plantain chips a.k.a dodo (steamed, not fried) and grilled chicken (I don’t like fried chicken because of all that fat and calories), that they had come to discuss important party matters and the need to call some leaders to order, back home.
 

After the meal, I drank water. Tiamiyu Apaokagi as well. My visitors uncorked and finished three bottles of my choicest wines.
On another day, what they came for would be a serious matter deserving of my attention that night. But no; I had bigger and more urgent fishes to fry (forget the pun).
 

I told them to kindly excuse me that I had an important issue to resolve that night and we would discuss what they came for in the morning. They left for the guest rooms at the back of the house.
I then pulled Apaokagi by the hand. We went to sit down in the living room.
 

His big bulk was yet to settle down on the settee when I asked him:
“Tell me, Soldier, who do you suspect?”
“Siamon sah, dat na small matter. Make I tell you about my plan wey I don arrange for my head”
“Ok if that is how you feel, I’m all ears”
With that Apaokagi leaned over. Although it was just two of us in that room, he told me in hushed tones what his plans were.
Very elaborate.
Very appealing.
I love this Apaokagi every day.
He even told me who his ‘suspect’ was.
 

My eyes widened in disbelief mixed with excitement. It was a dangerous proposition about this suspect but one which held exciting prospects if true.
 

Apaokagi had a very good plan and after giving it a thorough assessment overnight, I discussed with my wife in the morning. I was careful to leave out the bit about who we suspected and the role I was to play in the whole plan.
 

The reason is that my wife loves me. Having heard what happened to those who previously spoke on security measures at our Landlords/Landladies’ meeting, she wouldn’t want any harm to come to her family or husband for that matter.

The following month’s end, our Baale called the usual meeting.
This time we waited for almost an hour before members showed up. The regular and incessant attacks had dampened the spirits of our people. Folks now live in fear. Even Dr Akintunde, a lecturer at one of the universities in town, who loved his beer and therefore often came back late, started coming back much earlier – to the delight of his noble wife.
 

At 8:55am, almost an hour after the meeting should have started; Baale called the meeting to order and the opening prayer was said.
You needed to hear how the prayer went. It of course delved on security and an earnest call on God to consume with fire, anyone siding with hoodlums! That aspect of the opening prayer met with a resoundingly loud ‘Amen’!
 

The minutes were read and adopted.
Not surprisingly, the only item on the agenda was security.
Apaokagi gave me a look.
I raised my hand and got up to speak, even before being recognised by Baale.
 

“Ladies and gentlemen of Victory Estate,
Good morning. We are all aware of the current security situation. And it is with respect to the solution that I have risen to speak.” I began.
 

“But first, let no one’s heart fail him here. We saw how enthusiasm is waning as attested to by our late coming this morning. We must not allow a group of cowards to intimidate us. Bullies, in their inner minds, are cowards. We must not succumb to cowardice. We must return force for force. Nobody has the monopoly of violence!” I shouted in my campaign podium voice.
The members clapped. Mr Wastewater looked down, his legs moving rhythmically at the thighs.
 

I continued:
“I have taken up this matter with some of my friends in the security circle and they have advised that we take some urgent steps. However, I’m afraid I cannot divulge the details here. Rather I want to suggest a committee of three: made up of Baale, myself and our Treasurer to put the plans to action”. I paused and saw from the corner of my eye that the Treasurer shifted uncomfortably on his seat.
 

There was pin-drop silence.
“Any contrary suggestion?” Baale broke the silence. The man knew there wouldn’t be any as nobody wanted to be the next object of attack. The members seemed to know by now that somebody among us was behind the attacks and that whoever spoke at any meeting has had it.
 

They must have believed that I could handle my own personal security well; with Apaokagi who is almost superhuman.
There was pin-drop silence. Baale specifically asked: “Mr Akinyode, any contrary view?” Akinyode, whom I had nicknamed Mr Wastewater for fouling my frontage with used domestic water from his house, nodded ‘no’.
 

The meeting thereafter resolved according to my suggestion and we fixed a meeting of the ad-hoc committee for the following morning at Baale’s house.


Adunni, the girl that lived with us, turned 19years old earlier that month. My wife had brought her home one day about 10 years ago. She said she found her by the roadside at the market crying and looking for her mum. We investigated and found that her parents died when Cattle rustlers attacked her village earlier that week. 

The poor 10-year old, the only child, then started wandering about. We took her back to the village to find her parents’ relatives. 

We met an uncle who immediately upon sighting her wanted to beat her up. I forbade him and asked politely if I could take her with me back to town. 

They were free to come and check her any time. They agreed and in any case the little girl said she would prefer to stay with us. Since then we had been her guardian. Now she was a sophomore in the university, studying medicine.
 

I am always proud of her.
Adunni was part of our plans.

Apaokagi spent the greater part of the day cutting old newspapers up into the exact sizes of N1000 notes. I gave him a Ghana-must-go bag that could carry 50kg of sand. 

He got some rubber bands and new currency paper wrappers from my bank. He then packed the papers up and bound them into packs that deceived a man into thinking they were N500,000 bundles. He made several photocopies of actual N1000 notes. These he placed on top of each bundle.
 

At twilight, I called Adunni to carry one bag and trek toward our street’s gate. The gate is at the mouth of our street about 700m distance to the nearest occupied house in the area. I say ‘occupied’ because there are several buildings either side of the road that are not inhabited – either through non-completion or absentee occupiers. There were trees along the street as well. Adunni obediently moved on foot. Tiamiyu Apaokagi followed her silently at a distance.
 

At about 100m to the gate, two men of about 25 years of age suddenly came out of one of the uncompleted buildings behind Adunni.
 

They moved fast and pounced on the young woman. One of them seized the bag and threw it into the bush.
It was swift.
 

Tiamiyu Apaokagi was momentarily stunned.
He saw the second man bring out a knife and waved it across Adunni’s chest. He was now within a striking distance of the boys.
He bellowed at them from behind:
 

“Stop! Hands up or I go shoot!”
This statement was followed by a loud report from his revolver. Apaokagi had shot into the air above their heads.
 

The two guys were shocked. They stopped, turned to him and faced the cruel muzzle of Apaokagi’s pistol. He held the gun on his right hand and with the left, he reached into his left trouser pocket, took out a whistle and blew a long blast.
 

In the twinkle of an eye, six plain-clothed policemen came out from the surrounding bush and covered the two men with their weapons.
They were disarmed and led back, first to Baale’s house where they were briefly interrogated. Then a Police Patrol van, after signals, came to take them away.

The Divisional Police Officer for my area was a likeable fellow; made more so by the reason of him hailing from Kwara State like Apaokagi. 

He and my CSO had struck off a great friendship since that fact came to light. He occasionally dropped by at our home for a drink or he would come simply to relax and play ‘Ayo Olopon’ – a traditional game in which I and Tiamiyu are very good.
 

To that extent, he was an ‘associate member’ of my family.
The following morning after the attack on Adunni, he phoned me and sounded very serious.
 

He said his men interrogated those boys all night and that they kept saying that they did not act on their own volition. He said they were sent by someone in our estate. 

They said that they were a ring of criminals and that they carried out hatchet jobs for a fee. They confessed to being responsible for previous attacks on other landlords in the area; that the boys arrested at Mrs Glo’s shop the other time were their members. They said even though they swore to an oath of secrecy, they decided to spill the beans because all promises given by their godfather went unfulfilled.
 

“And who is this godfather?” I asked anxiously.
“It’s like Mr Akinyode, your neighbour; the Director of Local Government has many questions to answer. We found a phone with the boys and when we checked with the Telecoms people, it was registered in his name”.
 

I kept silent for a moment.
 

“Honourable sir, are you there?” DPO broke the silence.
“Yes I’m here DPO. So what are you going to do?”

“I called to give you the SITREP. I have constituted an arresting party. My men have been on surveillance over your area especially Mr Akinyode’s house since 4am today. My info is that he is in and they should get there anytime from now”.
 

Moments later, Apaokagi rushed in panting with obvious excitement.
 

“Siamon, dem don come arrest Akinyode”.
 

I stepped out in time to see Mr Wastewater being escorted into the Police van, hands in cuffs behind his back. For a moment, our eyes met. What I saw there, I could not immediately say: Fear? Plead for help? Or actual compunction?
 

I permitted myself a moment of satisfaction. I hoped some justice would be served for those who have been attacked in our area recently.
 

Apaokagi gave me another look which said:
“Siamon, I no tell you say na him dey cause all the wahala for we area?”
 

I nodded back at him.
A small crowd had gathered in front of my house.
I asked them to follow me to Baale’s house with Tiamiyu Apaokagi in tow!

Happy weekend everyone!

Omi Tuntun, Igba Otun!

Orisun: Kehinde Ayoola JP

Share on Google Plus

About Olayemi Oniroyin