A Boss Hired to Kill Thomas Spares His Life, Welcomes Him to the Lagos Underworld

20 Mar A Boss Hired to Kill Thomas Spares His Life, Welcomes Him to the Lagos Underworld

As Thomas wandered along the pavement, still shocked, confused, and completely offended by the story Moji had spined to the HomeCare Agency, he wracked his brain for some kind of plan as to what he could do next. He needed to find work, yet the HomeCare agent had made it perfectly clear that the agency would not assist him now or in the future. He was clearly on his own, which had not led him to a great deal of success in Lagos since his arrival.

He thought about going back to the bus terminal and reclaiming his job as a conductor, but then decided that it was not worth the effort. Thomas had left the job nearly a month ago. Like everywhere else, there were probably no jobs to be had at the bus terminal, but at least he could slip in there to sleep among the bohemians who populated the yard from dusk until dawn.

Aside from losing the employment, boarding, and meal perks at the Adekunle estate, Thomas was also frustrated for most likely having lost Chief Adekunle as a vocational reference. While he was there, during his rare moments of free time, Thomas had been scanning the newspapers in search of a job for which he might be better suited. He had developed a compatible relationship with Chief Adekunle during the few moments when the politician was at home, and he felt confident that if a position presented itself, Chief Adekunle would be willing to use his influence to ensure that Thomas would be granted the job.

But after hearing the story that Moji had given the HomeCare Agency, Thomas knew that he would never be offered any further assistance from Chief Adekunle. Even worse, he worried that Moji’s story would be circulated to potential employers, and Thomas’s reputation would be permanently destroyed, leaving him with no opportunity to ever recover from this unjust situation.

In an act of desperation, he rushed to the nearest corner down the street where he could get some privacy and fetched out the mobile phone he had bought while with the Adekunles. He stood and leaned against the fence of an office block and fished through his pockets. Chief Adekunle had given Thomas one of his business cards when he began working at his home.

“There will be periods when I must be in Abuja for several days at a time,” he had said. “I give this card to all of the people on my staff. If an emergency arises, please call this number and keep me informed.”

Thomas was not sure if this situation qualified as an emergency for Chief Adekunle, but it certainly felt like one to him. He pulled out the card, located the number, and frantically punched the buttons on the phone.

Thomas tried to remain patient as the phone rang several times at the other end. He was just about to surrender and hang up when a woman’s voice came through the earpiece.

“Chief Adekunle’s office.”

“Ah… yes!” Thomas quickly garbled. “I am… was… I mean I am calling as a member of Chief Adekunle’s staff at his estate in Victoria Island Extension. May I speak with him, please?”

“What is your name, sir?”

Thomas paused for a short moment. He thought perhaps Chief Adekunle had already spoken to his wife — she sure got a hold of the HomeCare Agency fast enough — and thus would not be willing to speak with him. He considered using an alias, but his thoughts were so muddled that he could not recall the names of any of the other members of staff. “Thomas Katta,” he finally said.

“Please hold, Mr. Katta.”

Some scratchy music squeaked through the earpiece but Thomas was hardly in the mood to be entertained. Finally, the music was abruptly cut off.

“Chief Adekunle.”

Thomas was relieved to hear that his former boss had taken his call. “Chief Adekunle, this is Thomas Katta. I really need to speak with you.”

“Is something wrong, Thomas?”

The question caught Thomas off-guard. Apparently Chief Adekunle had not yet spoken with his wife.

“Sir, I am afraid that I must leave my position at your home,” Thomas began nervously. “I’m very sorry, but I can no longer —”

“What are you talking about?” Chief Adekunle asked slowly.

“Well… there has been a misunderstanding, and I —”

“What do you need to understand?” Chief Adekunle pressed. “You were hired to do what the landscaper instructs you to do. What’s so hard about that?”

“Chief Adekunle, it’s difficult to explain,” Thomas continued, “but a situation has arisen, and I am afraid that I can no longer work at your home. I appreciate the job you have given me, and I would even welcome the chance to work with you at your office in Abuja, but I —”

“What in the world are you saying?’ Chief Adekunle shouted. “Do you think you’re too good to work on the grounds? Do you think I owe you something better?”

“No sir! That’s not what I meant!” Thomas insisted. “As I have said, there has been a misunderstanding that has affected my ability to serve you in the proper capacity at your home in Victoria Island, and thus I —”

“I have heard enough!” Chief Adekunle interrupted. “Let there be no misunderstanding right now. You either return to your duties as ordered or you leave the estate and never come back. Do you have any trouble understanding that?”

“Sir, please hear me out —”

“No, you hear me out!” Chief Adekunle snarled. “I have important work to accomplish here in Abuja. I don’t have time to be distracted by a so-called misunderstanding involving house and grounds workers.”

“But, sir —”

“No buts! That’s it! If you don’t want to work at the estate, go ahead and leave. You are clearly ungrateful for the opportunity you have been given. I don’t need this aggravation. There are plenty of other men who will be perfectly happy working for me and living in such lavish servants’ quarters.”

Thomas was at a loss for words. He felt his grip tightening on the telephone receiver, but he did not have any idea how he could smooth over the situation.

“Do you think I got as far as I have in Abuja by being stupid?” Chief Adekunle barked at him.

“Of course not sir, but —”

“You are obviously not telling me something,” Chief Adekunle said. “It is perfectly clear that you have something to hide, and you’d better make sure that whatever it is, it stays hidden if you know what’s good for you. If I hear any stories about you, anything negative from anybody back at the estate, or if I find that something has been stolen from the house, you’d best get your ass out of Lagos as fast as you can! If you don’t, I assure you that I will deal with you, and the consequences will be harsh! If I have to spend the rest of my life hunting you down, I swear I will make you pay!”

With that, the telephone line went dead.

Thomas looked at his phone in despair. His circumstances presented so many possibilities, and none of them was good. It was likely that Moji would eventually relay her false account of Thomas’s behaviour to her husband, and he would become even angrier than he already was. On top of that, if any item in the house turned up missing, whether it was valuable or not, Thomas was most likely to be blamed, even if the item had just been misplaced. His options for a comfortable life in Lagos were eroding right before his eyes.

Thomas was no longer concerned about finding a job and becoming financially independent. He was instead obsessed with the simple concept of staying alive. He considered catching the next bus back to Moso. Although vocational prospects were just as bad, if not worse, in Thomas’s home town, it was probably a much safer place for him to go. Safety, however, did not guarantee sustenance, so going back to Moso or Ife was hardly an attractive option. He had made such a song and dance about his migration to Lagos, that his sister called him “the Lagos man”. Thomas wondered which would be the less painful way to meet his mortal demise: assassination in Lagos or disgrace in Moso.

Thomas spent the entire morning wandering the streets of Lagos, desperate to decide his next move. He was in such a hideous state of shock in response to all that had happened over the previous twenty-four hours that his mind could not produce a coherent thought. Tired, he went to the green park near the Lagos State Government secretariat, and slumped under a mango tree to think. He did not notice as the minutes passed into hours and the sun moved towards the horizon.

At six pm, Thomas realised that he had done absolutely nothing to mediate his dire situation. It was too late to catch a bus to Moso, and he still was not convinced whether that was even what he actually wanted to do. His eyelids were getting heavy, and his head was dropping to his chin. He was in need of some crucial, comatose sleep, but there was no place nearby where he could lie down and rest. He thought about crashing in a bus at the Ojota terminal, and decided to walk there. A slow walk, he calculated, would run down the clock and also save him some money.

Just before he reached the 7-Up junction by the Lagos-Ibadan expressway, Thomas got the strange sensation that he was being followed. He had noticed a blue shirt for some distance, glimpsing it every time he stopped to rest or have a drink. But then, there were many men in blue shirts on the streets of Lagos. Now he felt strongly that he was being followed. He stopped from time to time to look out for a blue shirt, but could not see far in the falling darkness. After passing the old tollgate, he saw three men walking ahead of him, and decided to get as close to them as possible.

Thomas tried to appear inconspicuous as he glanced backward. He then noticed a red Toyota sedan behind him. The car was travelling much slower than the reasonable flow of traffic would dictate, and it was crawling much too close behind. A shiver of fear shot down Thomas’s spine and he was instantly reminded that he was walking alone at night through one of the world’s most notorious cities. His legs forgot how tired they were and kicked into high gear.

The driver of the red car seemed to have impeccable reflexes, maintaining Thomas’s pace. Scared stiff, Thomas stopped and looked left for an opportunity to cross to the other side of the road.

“Daddy’s Boy, is that you?”

Thomas froze. He recognised the voice, but he could not quite place where he had heard it before. Finally, the driver’s side window slowly rolled all the way down to reveal a familiar face.

“Boss?” Thomas quietly gasped.

The big man laughed. “That’s my title. Do you remember my name?”

“Kenny… right?”

A car horn blasted from behind them, and an irate driver stuck his head out of his window. His gruff voice barked out some words that Thomas could not comprehend, but certainly understood.

Kenny flipped an obscene gesture back at the driver and then turned his attention back to Thomas. “Get in.”

Thomas quickly yanked open the passenger’s door, and hopped into the bucket seat. Kenny threw the car back into gear and sped down the expressway.

“So,” Kenny began, “are you still on a job-hunting expedition?”

“You have no idea, Boss,” Thomas replied, stifling a laugh.

Kenny reached over and playfully punched Thomas in the shoulder. “Well, my friend, this is your lucky day.”

Thomas’s eyes popped open. “If you had any idea what kind of day I’ve had so far, you wouldn’t be so quick to describe it as lucky.”

“I didn’t say anything about good luck, did I?”

Thomas gave him a tired swat in the arm.

“Seriously,” Kenny said, “it’s election season, and that means there is plenty of money to go around, assuming that you know where to look.”

“If you can afford this car, you’ve obviously been looking in all the right places,” Thomas responded.

For the first time since he had left Moji’s boudoir, Thomas was actually beginning to relax. He had no idea where they were headed, but with the Boss at his side, he believed himself to be more than adequately protected.

Shortly after the Ojota junction, Kenny eventually pulled his car over to the side of the road, turned off the headlights, and killed the ignition. Once the car was dark, Thomas saw nothing but blackness. Characteristic of Lagos, there were no street lights and no stars lit up the sky. The two men sat quietly for an uncomfortable moment.

Finally, Kenny flipped a switch inside the car that turned on a small beam of light. When Thomas’s eyes adjusted to the brightness, he saw Kenny pointing a revolver directly at his face.

“Please!” Thomas pleaded. “Please don’t shoot!” He quickly raised his trembling hands in the air. “I’m begging you… oh, please… I’ll do whatever —”

“Enough!” Kenny snapped, clearly annoyed by Thomas’s pathetic whimpering.

Thomas immediately closed his mouth, although he was unable to stop his lips from quivering in terror.

“I got a message from Chief Adekunle this morning,” Kenny said sternly.

Thomas’s eyes widened. He could not believe that Chief Adekunle and Kenny even knew each other, let alone had discussed him.

“The Chief says you deserted him,” Kenny went on. “He’s also afraid that you may have slipped away from his estate after acquiring too much important information. They’ve been wondering why a graduate would want to be a gardener.”

Thomas swallowed hard. “I did leave my position at his home,” he confessed, “but I was never privy to any important information, none that I know of anyway.”

“The Chief called upon me to take you out,” Kenny stated.

Thomas’s stomach rumbled. His throat went dry and he tried to keep from fainting.

“You have a good heart, Teacher,” Kenny said with a small smile. “I will therefore do my best to keep you on.”

With that, he slowly lowered the gun and stuffed it inside his jacket.

Thomas did not realise that he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled so quickly that he felt light-headed for a moment.

Kenny let out a nasty snicker. “You’ve arrived in the capital at a critical time in Nigerian history, Teacher,” he explained. “Chief Adekunle is about to become the National Chairman of the Party and that also makes him a kingmaker in Lagos.”

“For real?” Thomas gasped.

“Certainly for real,” Kenny confirmed. “The current secretary is losing his battle with a serious illness. At the moment, he’s undergoing treatment at a hospital in Munich, but everyone with insider information knows that his death is imminent. When he returns to Nigeria, he will undoubtedly be riding in a coffin.”

“Undoubtedly?” Thomas questioned.

By the expression on Kenny’s face as he nodded, Thomas was convinced that he had entered a world in which there was no such thing as a natural death.

“Be very careful what you do or don’t do in this city,” Kenny warned. “This is Lagos! One of the security men at the Chief’s estate was on your tail as soon as you stepped outside the gate.”

Oh, the blue shirt, Thomas remembered.