It all began in 2020

CHAPTER ELEVEN

GBENGA

Sola told me to come over to his bar so we could discuss my problem. I didn't like to think of it like that, but unfortunately, that's what it was. Ever since I received the letter, I couldn't help but mull over my unpaid house rent, my children's school fees, the electricity bill, and other responsibilities I had to handle. I began doubting my competence as a man, as a husband, as a father. I tried telling myself not to think it over, but with every passing minute, I found it harder to do.

Being the only one at home, I went out of the house and locked the door, not forgetting to put the keys behind the window for my wife and children. I wove down a taxi to take me to Garki. It was stressful, but I was the one who needed help, and so I had to do whatever I could to get myself out of the situation I was in.

The drive was unimaginably silent and as I sat at the passenger's seat of the cab, I kept on looking out the window, enjoying the view of the cars that drove by, the trees that swooshed through, and the relaxing feel of the afternoon breeze on my face. It was just what I needed to take my mind off everything that had happened lately.

When we got to Garki, I directed the man to Sola's bar, which was popularly known as The Kumasi. I didn't understand what the name meant or signified, or where he even came up with such a name for his brand, but I liked it. It sounded simple, yet elegant. If only my life were like that.

I came down from the cab and paid my transport fare before getting into the place. From where he sat, at an odd corner, he sighted me and immediately called out my name, while I kept on turning my neck to see where he was calling me from. He approached me with a brotherly hug and then looked at me with an unforgettable look in his eyes. I could see the pity and hope as well as the way he tried to force himself to look indifferent to my situation. I knew he was just trying to be polite, but knowing the reason behind his expression, made me feel worse of myself.

He placed his arm across my shoulder while leading me into his office. It was spacious, cold, and the bright colours that lined the walls gave me some sort of reassurance that everything would be alright. He sat me down before he settled into his chair, and while looking at him, I could only wish I was in his place.

"You told me to come," I said while looking around the room with envy.

"Yes, I did. You came here yesterday telling me about how you got fired and I bin reason am say as you be my person, the only reasonable thing na to help you with this situation you dey so."

"Thank you so much. I appreciate it."

"No thank me my brother. Na just the way everything suppose be. I help you, you help me."

I nodded my head in agreement with what he said. Although I doubted that I could help someone in financial distress, it allowed me to imagine things being different. To see things with an optimistic vision.

"But I hope you will be able to do everything I tell you sha oh."

"What do you mean by that? I hope I wouldn't be getting involved in anything like fraud or armed robbery."

"No now. No dey think like that."

"Oh. Okay."

"Yes. I just want you to take a look around, and guess how I made the money I have today."

I looked at everything that surrounded me once again, and that was when I realised that I didn't know the source of my friend's income. We were both one time hustlers in Abuja, in the late 1990s when Abuja was declared as the capital of the federation. Both of us were newbies, lost in a new world, and we met each other and decided to be of help to one another.

It wasn't long before I landed my first job as a receptionist in a hotel. I knew I was being underemployed, but the fear of being unemployed and poor made me accept the job offer. As I became caught up in the corporate world, Sola and I started drifting apart, and we didn't talk as much as we used to, most especially because of the absence of cell phones at that period. When I had finally settled in, I came back to Sola's rented apartment in Durumi, but then I was told he had already moved out. I didn't know that I would see him again in my lifetime, as a man with a more than comfortable lifestyle.

"Did you do money rituals?" I asked, scared of the reply I would receive.

"Nooooooooo. Sola no dey do me like dis now."

"Then how did you make so much money. And the last time I came here, you weren't the owner of this bar, and it wasn't called The Kumasi, so can you tell me how it suddenly became yours and how you're the owner of a range rover."

Sola threw his head back and let out a boisterous laugh. It was belittling, hearing the riches in his laughter, but I guess that's what money does. It puts you in a place above the others.

Sola brought out his phone and I could see the way his fingers gracefully swiped across the screen. He tapped somethings here and there and finally placed the phone in front of my face.

"Look at this."

All I could see was a woman my age dressed in a well-sewn native dress. Her eyes were hidden behind a huge pair of sunshades and her headgear was all tall and mighty. She stood in front of a black range rover staring at something I couldn't see. I looked closely and then realised that she was standing in front of Sola's car.

"Is she your wife?"

"No. But she's the person who is going to change your life the same way she changed mine."

I was confused. Sola wasn't speaking straight. He was beating around the bush, speaking in parables I didn't understand. After a few more minutes with him, he explained everything to me and I was left in complete shock, taking my time to think about all he said.