Tuesday, 23 May 2017

The Exchange Wahala( part 1)


Nathdgreat Of Africa
The day was very sultry, my stomach had been hurting badly, now it's aching and I think I might be developing ulcer right now. The N500 I had excused from the other "jew man" was still seating helplessly in my front pocket. "This your heinous business is very bad!" my conscience kept pricking me... "soak yourself in 10% alcohol" I screamed back at my conscience. I needed a nice meal even if it's for once,  and sincerely N500 can't assure me of that. "I need to pick another pocket even if I will have to confess after this time out".


The busy Oshodi oke was busy as usual. people where coming and going; passenger's rushed in and out of stopping and moving buses. I studied people like a mathematics formula, picking my target objectively and constructively. Here he comes, an average height man, not too dressed, he had a swollen chest pocket! I fixated on him now, YES! the swollen chest pocket was inhabited by a wallet! I could see that from afar! This must be him! My meal ticket to a glorious meal. But how can i do this to this man? Looking closely at him, he should be approaching 50 years of age. I wish it was possible to just remove some of the money from the wallet and leave the rest for him at least so that he can get to his destination or somewhere without being stranded on that same spot.




The fact was established. I have conscience and pity. but a man is got to eat and the system was already "f*cked up!" I felt for this innocent looking man, who knows where he is headed, who knows what will become of him after i would have robbed him? Well, God will take care of him; He always does! I was now approaching the man. I felt a little nervous. why was I becoming nervous over excusing this wallet from this innocently looking man? could it be because I feel pity for him? Or could something go wrong? But what could go wrong? I started running through situations in my mind; "Oshodi!" I thought loudly. If the man notices my move and screams, my own is finished oooh! This Oshodi people and jungle justice! they already have Tyre everywhere, all they need to do is bring me, pour fuel on me, or worst of; put me inside the Tyre and set it ablaze! A cold chill ran through my spine at the thought of the gruesome death that awaits me should anything go wrong.
...continued in part 2

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