chapter 4

“I will ask you again and for the last time, what is your name”. “First tell me yours. You tell me your name and I will tell you mine”, said Wole forcing a smile with his lips. He knew that the man before him was not a Nigerian. His skin was by far lighter compared to those he sees everyday at school and church. He looked like an actor in the action movies his dad watches. He put his hands into his pockets and surprisingly he felt the picture in his left pocket. He was shocked as to how it got there. The last thing he remembered was holding the picture when he got kidnapped by the two men last night.                                                                                                                                                                       

“Why don’t we say our names together”, Charles suggested. “ Oluwole David Ajayimore, Charles”. They both called out their names in unison and the hearing of each other. “Wow!, I think I prefer the name Oluwole”, ”what a nice name for a handsome boy like you. On the compliment Wole started a smile. “Please sir…. Thank you for taking care of my wound but can you please take me home, I really miss my dad”. “I’m sorry my friend but I cannot take you home, at least not right now. Here…. Drink this”, said Charles handing over a painkiller tablet to Wole.  “It will ooze away the pain”, said Charles giving him a tablet and a cup of Orange juice to push it down. Wole made the sign of the cross as his father had taught him to do before taking any medication. He took it into his mouth and with the help of the juice Charles had given him, swallowed it down gulping the juice along his throat. He gulped the entire glass of orange juice down his throat. “It was clear that he was very hungry as well as thirsty. “Why can’t you take me home?”, said Wole holding onto his head. Soon he was seeing in doubles and few seconds later, he was out. The painkillers Charles had given to him had strong sedative properties. Charles sent for a maid to take him upstairs to the vacant room. He gave orders for Wole to be given a proper bath and to be dressed nicely. He was to be taken out of the tattered school uniform he was on so he could take in a more fresh and befitting clothing.                                                                                 

“OLUWOLE”, said Charles pondering on the name. He had been in Nigeria for close to a decade now and was familiar with majority of her people and government. He recognized that name to be from the Yoruba indigenous cultural group. He made up his mind then, that, Wole would not be like the rest of his victims working for him. He felt Wole to be peculiar. He concluded that he would try his best to make him forget his old life and bring him up like a son. It meant he would never take him back home.                                                                              

Wole woke to meet himself on a soft bed and dressed in someone else’s clothing. He found himself in a room blowing with conditioned air. He felt dampness on his head. He touched his head and realized that his hair was a bit wet. He took his arms up and gave himself a wiff. He found himself to have taken a bath although he wasn’t able to remember when he had one. His last memory was sitting on a chair with a man named Charles and after taking a dose of a painkiller he had given him everything went blank. He touched the spot that was injured. It was still plastered although the pain had subsided and he could feel the wound healing. The pain was not so severe any more. Wole got up from the bed and ran towards the door. Luckily for him, it was open. He passed through the shallow corridor, climbed down the stairs and found himself in a room filled with brown bags and blank boxes with no labels. He was in the storage room. A place in which the finished drugs were kept for international sales and deals.“You aren’t supposed to be here, boy”, “Oga will get mad if he sees you here”, said a maid. “I want to go home, I don’t like it here”, cried Wole. “Okay, then I will take you to go and see him. Or don’t you want to go again”.

This made Wole stand up to his feet from where he sat and go to meet her. “Can Oga take me home?”, “of course he can”, replied the maid. She brought him out of the room making sure to lock the door. She led him by hand upstairs to Charles’ room. On the way Wole saw the house in a new perspective. In his eyes it looked so luxurious, like something that belonged to someone very rich and classy. She insisted that he should wait for her by the door while she goes in. When she went in unfortunately for her, Charles was in a bad mood. About four of his men had been caught by the I.C.P.C on their way back with new recruits from Abuja. Anger was visibly shown all over his face. “Sir, the boy is awake and has requested to see you”, said the maid with her face downwards to the floor. Charles looked away from her direction.it was almost as if he was not listening to a word she was saying. “Can’t you see that I am busy or are you blind and as well foolish?”. “Get out of my sight”, roared Charles.