Read part one , part two and part three
As I sat on the only plastic chair in the reception, I began to really think about the dilemma I was in. If Mama Duke was as dangerous as the police were making her out to be, then she definitely had ears on the inside. This made it unlikely that she would walk into an ambush by having lunch with me.
I had also figured out that the police targeted me because I was new in town and as such was premium scapegoat material. If Mama Duke didn’t show up, they could present me as a co-conspirator and that would be that. It would be my word against theirs and in Nigeria, the word of the citizen doesn’t count for much against the police or the government.
On the other hand, if she did show up, I could be in serious danger. What if she arrived with hired guns? What if the attempt to arrest her resulted in a shootout and I got hit? What if a member of her criminal gang saw me and decided to come after me later? The longer I thought about it, the more impossible the situation seemed. I knew it would only take a miracle to get out in one piece.
My train of thought was interrupted by a lawyer who had promised to offer his services pro bono to the widow’s family if they apologized to their in-laws. He smiled at me and said “So you’re a suspect? I thought you were a police officer.” I didn’t know how I summoned the strength but immediately I screamed “I’m not a suspect in Jesus name!” Everybody in the station burst out laughing and the poor guy was taken aback but at least he learned his lesson.
I was still recovering from that outburst when my company’s Chief Security Officer (CSO) walked in with a man I didn’t know. I jumped out of the chair sure that my ordeal was over. “We’ve been looking for you all day, we’ve searched every station in this area. We even came here twice but they said you weren’t here.”
Apparently the colleague I’d called before my phone was seized had informed my boss and they’d been trying to find me ever since. My boss had called all the senior police officers he knew but they feigned ignorance of my case and turned off their phones afterwards. They eventually found me by using a tracking device from a security agency which pinpointed the location of my phone. I felt like I was in a James Bond movie after hearing all this.
“I’ve called the DPO of this station,” the guy who came with our CSO (let’s call him Chisom) said. “He said they can let you go but I’ll have to sign an undertaking. If you escape, I’ll be held responsible.” “If you come with me, you’ll have to sleep in my house and I’ll bring you back here for your meeting with the woman tomorrow.” I knew I shouldn’t go home with a strange man but at that point, I wanted to be anywhere but the police station.
Luckily, the CSO refused the idea and said they would keep trying to get me out with no conditions attached. They asked me to explain to them what happened and how I met Mama Duke. I gave them a brief overview and when I got to the part about the fake package, Chisom looked at me like I was 5-years-old. “Poor girl, you’re so innocent.” Apparently the Nigerian police use this fake package trick a lot so let the reader be guided.
Chisom and the CSO promised to try their best to ensure I didn’t sleep in the station and then they left. The time was 7pm. I allowed myself to believe for the first time that day that everything would be alright. I waited and waited and waited but there was no sign of my saviours. I insisted on keeping vigil on the chair and not sleeping a wink but my co-occupants warned me that I would hurt my neck.
“Even if you stay awake all night, you can’t change anything. You better come and sleep,” the bank manager said. I heard her call her husband on the phone and ask him to bring diapers for their child the next day. She was so calm, but he seemed irritated. I wondered what kind of man could be comfortable with his child sleeping in a police station. Surely they could’ve made some kind of arrangement that didn’t involve leaving an infant in this mosquito-ridden hellhole?
Ah well, sufficient unto Monjolaoluwa were her own troubles at that moment so I decided to mind my business. I remembered that Paul and Silas sang while they were in prison so I decided to do that. By the time it was midnight, I resigned myself to fate. Chisom and the CSO would not be coming back for me, at least not that night. I remembered that Peter was also once imprisoned and he slept like a baby. So I laid down on the spot the bank manager had reserved for me and drifted off into another world. Tomorrow would take care of itself.
To be continued…