In Life’s 360-turn, Thomas Gets A Job With State Government

10 Jul In Life’s 360-turn, Thomas Gets A Job With State Government

“I hate to say I told you so, but —”

“I know. You told me so.”

Nancy giggled as Thomas wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. They held hands like two teenagers experiencing their first love as they walked down the street. Thomas felt he had really reached a new beginning. For the first time in his life, he honestly felt as if all things were possible, as Pastor Peter had said. He had never experienced such a sensation before.

When he studied at the university, he felt a unique sense of security. So many students joked about how they would try to remain on the campus until they were forcibly removed. They were all young, very few of them had familial or financial responsibilities, and their lives were not bound by highly structured schedules or regulations. They all knew that such freedom was not destined to last forever, and although most chose not to openly discuss it, they could not help but feel a twinge of fear about the idea of leaving their academic sanctuary and facing the difficult, merciless, and cutthroat life that would be waiting for them out in the city of Lagos.

“I’m camping out in this dorm as long as I can afford it,” one student told Thomas. “I’ll study for the rest of my life if I can get away with it. I’ll do whatever it takes to avoid facing the real world.”

At the time, Thomas had secretly felt the same way, although he knew he could never afford to live the life of a professional student. As much as he enjoyed the security of university life, he was also looking forward to entering the workforce and establishing a name for himself. When he left Moso for Lagos, he was determined to acquire gainful employment and make his family proud. He realised that nothing would come easy, but it never crossed his mind that life in Lagos could be so hard.

Now as he walked along the street, holding the hand of the woman he loved after having secured a lucrative scholarship and cleansing his soul of the demons that had haunted him for the past several months, Thomas felt as if he could accomplish anything. He no longer needed the protection of a university campus. He could face the so-called real world and feel confident that he had both the skills to succeed and the support of people who sincerely believed in his potential.

“So,” Nancy wondered, “what are you going to tell Mrs. Adekunle? The way I see it, she really wants you in Government House.”

Thomas furrowed his brow and thought intensely. “I was thinking about that too,” he eventually said. “As the woman said, she would be getting me an appointment with the Governor, and I don’t know if I can say ‘no’ to that powerful man. I really need to think about this. The Mordys’ offer was so unexpected. I’m not sure if it has completely sunk into my brain yet.”

Nancy nodded. “I understand,” she said. “This is a lot to take in all at once. Even so, this has been a glorious day and we must celebrate!”

“Absolutely!” Thomas agreed. “We need to drink a toast to a brand-new life!”

“We need more than a toast,” Nancy insisted. “I am going to make you the greatest home-cooked meal you have ever tasted.”

On the way home, they stopped at the farmers’ market. Nancy carefully picked out the freshest vegetables she could find while Thomas bought a loaf of freshly baked bread. After that, they walked down the street to a liquor store and purchased a bottle of fine wine. Thomas was a little cautious about spending that much money on one bottle of wine, but Nancy, who under most circumstances tended to be more frugal than Thomas, was quite insistent.

“This is a very special day!” she announced. “It is a turning point, a milestone. We’ve taken a vow that from this day forward we will value the lives we have been given and we will never revert to our old ways — no matter how many hardships we encounter. If that isn’t a reason to splurge this one time, I can’t think of one!”

Back at the apartment, they spilled their groceries out on the worktop, and Thomas placed the bottle of wine in the refrigerator to chill. He was about to assist Nancy with the cooking, but she immediately shooed him out of the kitchen.

“Can’t I give you a hand?” he asked. “I’m a pretty good cook, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” Nancy replied, “but you’ve done your work. Returning that ring to the Mordys was probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life, and I realise that you didn’t just do it for yourself. You also did it for me. Now I want to do something for you. Get out of that suit and slip into some comfortable clothes while I cook up a very special lunch. While I’m putting things together in here, you can sit back and contemplate the direction you want your life to take.”

Thomas smiled and then sauntered back to the bedroom. As he removed his necktie and unbuttoned his dress shirt, he thought about Nancy’s words. What direction do I want my life to take? he wondered. Serving as the Governor’s official speechwriter would certainly be a prestigious position and it would most likely come with some very lucrative perks. It made him feel like he could make an important and positive contribution to people’s lives. That provided him with a sense of pride that money could not buy. At the same time, however, pride did not pay the rent or put food on the table, and the way Thomas saw it, there was nothing wrong with a person accepting quality compensation for the work he or she put forth.

Complicating the choice even further was the fact that Tunji Taylor was so much more than the typical run-of-the-mill hack politician. He was actually a sincere man of integrity, the likes of which Lagos had not seen in years. What he may have lacked in charisma or personality he made up for with decency and honesty. Thomas believed in Taylor’s leadership, and he felt that by working in a manner that would make this man’s message more accessible to voters he would be serving not just the governor’s office, but all the citizens of Lagos who would benefit from Taylor’s political, economic, and social initiatives.

Thomas changed into his casual clothes and hung his suit neatly in the wardrobe. His mind bounced back and forth as he weighed the pros and cons of the two options. He really hoped he could find a way to combine them both, allowing himself to enjoy the best of both worlds. He imagined the excitement of travelling overseas, which would give him the chance to leave his corrupt recent past behind as well as the opportunity to see the world and experience different cultures. Then again, even after all he had been through, his heart had become firmly planted in Lagos. It had almost torn him apart and plunged him into depths that he never imagined he could fall to but, perversely, it was also the place where he had purged his soul of its own demons, found salvation, and discovered his true talent. It was also where he had reconnected with Nancy, whom he could honestly say qualified as the love of his life.

He didn’t want to spend too much time debating his prospects inside his head that afternoon. It was only lunchtime and he was already physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Throwing himself on the mercy of Mr. and Mrs. Mordy had drained him of every ounce of energy he had possessed. He did not even want to think about how the scenario would have played out had the Mordys not been the forgiving souls that they were.

The meal Nancy had served was the most elaborate feast Thomas had ever experienced.

“Where did you learn to cook like that?” Thomas asked as he popped the last bite into his mouth. “You could be a chef at a five-star restaurant.”

Nancy giggled and blushed. “I’ve picked up a few helpful hints from various people over the years,” she said with a coy smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Thomas tossed back his last swallow of wine and stood up. “Since you did all the cooking, I insist that you relax in the living room while I clean the dishes.”

Nancy grinned. “That’s very gentlemanly of you, sir,” she replied. “You may change your mind once you catch sight of the mess I made in the kitchen.”

“If I could do all the menial jobs in this city to survive, if I can handle returning that ring to the Mordys, I can handle cleaning up your mess in the kitchen.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, Thomas had washed and dried the last of the dishes and stacked them neatly in the cupboard. Nancy’s so-called mess was hardly the domestic disaster that she had made it out to be. Thomas poured himself a steaming cup of coffee and was just about to join her in the living room when both he and Nancy were startled by a barrage of loud, aggressive poundings on the apartment door.

“Police!” a voice yelled from the outside hall. “Open the door!”

Nancy let out a hair-raising scream. Thomas dropped his mug, causing it to shatter and send numerous shards of glass and hot coffee rolling across the hardwood floor.

The pounding on the door was relentless. The strikes were so intense that the door was shaking on its hinges and the frame was beginning to splinter.

“We’re coming!” Thomas shouted. “Please don’t break down the door!”

He ran across the room, but before he could reach it, the handle broke and the door was flung open. In an instant, an army of uniformed police officers charged into the apartment with their guns drawn. Nancy shrieked in terror as the officers tackled Thomas and pinned him down on the floor.

“Thomas Katta!” one of the officers yelled. “You are under arrest!”

“Arrest?” Thomas gulped from the floor. “What have I done?”

The officers ignored his question and wrestled him to the floor. He offered no resistance. To do so would have been pointless. There were too many of them and they were much too strong. They quickly wrenched his arms behind his back, sending a stinging pain into Thomas’s shoulder blades. They pulled him up to his feet and circled him in a manner that closed Nancy off from him.

“Why are you arresting him?” she cried. “Please! Tell us what this is all about!”

As far as the officers were concerned, Nancy was not even in the room.

“Thomas!” she screamed.

He tried to call back to her, but the officers were gripping him so tightly that he could not catch his breath. She tried to push her way toward him, but the officers skilfully blocked her efforts. No protests would change their steadfast minds. They had received their orders to make this arrest and they intended to fulfil them by any means necessary. They dragged Thomas through the damaged apartment door, literally carried him down the stairs, and hauled him out onto the pavement. There they stuffed him into an idling police van, slammed the door shut, and sped down the boulevard, leaving Nancy screaming and crying in the street.

 

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Thomas could not be sure how long he had been sitting in the interrogation room. It felt like it could have been several days, but it was probably only a few hours, definitely more than just one or two. Even so, they were very long hours, leaving him with nothing more to do than let his gaze bounce around off the cinder block walls. No criminal investigators had come in to question him. No police captain had come in to spell out the possible charges that were being filed against him but he knew they could be many. No solicitor had arrived to say that he or she had been assigned to defend his case.

The arresting officers had merely yanked him out of the police van, dragged him into the precinct, dumped him in the interrogation room, and locked the door behind them when they left. The time of day and the number of hours that had passed remained a mystery to Thomas. The officers had confiscated his watch. As far as Thomas was concerned, the circumstances included two saving graces. First, Nancy had filled his stomach with a delicious and healthy lunch, so he would be able to wait in the room for quite a long time before any hunger pangs started kicking in. Second, despite their brutal aggression, the officers were practical enough to detain Thomas in a room with an adjoining toilet and sink, which allowed him to keep his bladder from bursting. He had already stood up a few times and splashed water onto his face, often for no other reason than to pass the time.

Sitting there, he was overwhelmed and distraught by this horrific reversal of fortune. In less than twenty-four hours, he had gone from being on the verge of a doctorate education and a possible position in Governor Tunji Taylor’s inner circle to facing a long-term prison stint, although at this point he still had not been notified of the charges against him. Deep down in his conscience, he was well aware of several felony charges that could be made, all of them legitimate and indefensible. Had he been recognised as one of the accomplices in the daytime bank job that ended in the bank manager’s murder? Had Fanni been arrested on some petty charge and given up Thomas’s name as a participant in the bank robbery as part of a plea bargain? Had the Mordys changed their minds about forgiving him for the carjacking and called the police to report the crime? Was their offer of a scholarship even real to begin with, or did they simply concoct that story to make Thomas think they did not intend to press charges? Did they set him up? If they did, could he really blame them?

As more minutes and hours chugged by, Thomas made at least three

more unnecessary trips to the sink and thought about all he had been

through since he had first arrived in Lagos. He had endured so many difficult

things over the past few months that made him wonder why he never turned

his back on the big city’s ills and headed back home to Moso. For some

reason, he loved Lagos. As risky as life in Lagos was, he felt that leaving the

city would make his heart stop beating, and his blood freeze.

Thomas had never lost faith in Lagos and all that it potentially had to offer. He was convinced that there was a great deal of good to be found all around the city that does not sleep, the city many people had likened to New York. He wanted so badly to be a part of it. As he sat in the room with its grey walls and cold metal furniture, he wondered if he would ever get the chance to do so.

Finally, with his heart broken and his spirit shattered, Thomas slumped down in the rusted metal chair, screeching its legs against the concrete floor. He folded his arms on the table and lay his head down on top of them. At that point, he was much too exhausted to think, feel, or fight any longer. He closed his eyes and let himself go, ready to surrender to his presumed fate.

He had no idea how long he had been asleep when the door to the room suddenly burst open and a crowd of people marched inside. The loud noise made his stomach jump and sent a freakish chill down his spine. His mind was cloudy and his eyes were blurry. For a split second, he had forgotten where he was or how he had gotten there. With the banging of the door, the whole nightmare came rushing back into his consciousness.

As he shook his head to bring the room back into focus, he tried to prepare himself mentally for the rigid questioning that was about to take place. He wasn’t sure if he should remain silent, as was his right, and let the prosecutor build a case against him or if he should confess everything and beg for leniency. Before he had a chance to quickly consider either of these options, one of the visitors spoke.

“Good evening, Thomas Katta.”

Thomas rubbed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When his vision cleared, he saw the Assistant Commissioner of Police he had seen on arrival there sitting opposite him. He had introduced himself as Rafa.

“This is very depressing accommodation,” the Rafa remarked. “I hope you haven’t been too uncomfortable here.”

Thomas had no idea how he was supposed to respond. Three officers stood behind Rafa, assuming authoritative poses. Rafa’s demeanour was casual and laid-back. Thomas did not sense that he was trying to intimidate him. The entire scenario did not make sense, but then again, Thomas wasn’t sure that his senses were working to their full capacity at the moment.

“We have a friend of yours here that I think you would like to see,” said Rafa, his face smiling but his voice monotonous.

Thank God, thought Thomas, they’ve brought Nancy here to see me. At least I’ll have the opportunity to say one last goodbye to her.

From down the corridor, he heard the sound of shuffling feet and muffled scraping, as if somebody was dragging a heavy carpet along the cold concrete floor. Rafa made way for two police officers to come through the door. They stood either side of a crumpled heap of a man, his clothes tattered, his bare arms covered in livid welts and his face painted in a grotesque mask of blood. The two guards that were acting as supports to the man dragged him to the table and placed him roughly in the chair opposite Thomas.

“I’ll let you two get reacquainted,” said Rafa and motioned his officers to leave the interrogation cell.

When the door closed, Thomas looked at the man who was sat opposite him. His breathing was rasping heavily and his head lay on his chest. Thomas could not tell whether he was conscious or not because of the intense swelling that had reduced his eyes to tiny slits. Tiny bubbles of pink froth issued from his cracked lips, so at least he was still alive.

Who are you? he thought.

As if hearing Thomas’s inner thoughts, the man raised his head from his chest and let out an anguished squeal of pain from the effort. As he levelled his head, he concentrated what little vision he had on the person sat in front of him. He opened his lips and again let out a small gasp as the congealed blood tore at his parting lips.

“Thomas,” he whispered.

The sudden realisation of who was sitting there hit Thomas like a charging bull elephant.

“Oh my God, Fanni,” he said and immediately raised himself with the intention of helping his ex-colleague.

“No, Thomas,” said Fanni. “Please don’t come to me. I do not deserve your pity.”

Thomas sat down, too much in shock to argue. Fanni let out a cough and small flecks of blood spiralled from his mouth onto the table.

“What has happened to you?” Thomas asked, his mind now racing ahead, drawing out what lay ahead of him in full detail. It was obvious that this was all to do with the bank robbery, that the police had finally tracked both of them down and that soon, it would be his turn to be beaten into a confession. He knew that he could not survive that much punishment and resolved there and then that he would confess everything. Whether it would save him from the same fate as Fanni was another matter.

Fanni opened his mouth to speak. “Thomas, do you know why we are here?”

“It’s the bank jobs, isn’t it? The murder of the manager,” he answered.

Fanni did not answer his question directly but just carried on talking. “You know the night of the robbery, when Kenny, Sadoki and the boys were gunned down by the police. Have you ever wondered why we escaped? Did you think that you were just plain lucky or that God was looking over you?”

“I don’t know Fanni,” Thomas answered, wondering why he should bring this up now instead of the fact that they were incarcerated and possibly looking at a hasty execution right there in the cell.

“Think harder, Thomas. Has it not occurred to you that we may have been allowed to escape?”

Thomas thought he caught the glimpse of a tiny tear appearing in the recess of Fanni’s swollen eyes. His suspicions were confirmed when Fanni winced as the salt water entered one of his open wounds.

“It has occurred to me a couple of times, but I just presumed that you’d studied the schematic layout of the bank and managed to work out somehow where we could get out, despite everything that was going on.”

Fanni attempted a wry smile which revealed that two of his front teeth had been snapped down to stumps. “Oh, I studied the schematics Thomas. Believe me I did. I knew exactly where to go and how we could get out without being seen or caught.” He stopped, waiting for the penny to drop. It did.

As the truth started to dawn on Thomas, every last ounce of pity that he had felt for Fanni drained out of his body. “You knew the police would be there.”

The two of them sat rigid.

“Yes, I knew,” Fanni admitted, ignoring the tears that now rolled down his face in huge globules. “I knew because I arranged for them to be there. It was me that betrayed Kenny, the boys, and you.”

Thomas still sat rigid, trying to take in what Fanni had just told him. The only thing he could think to say was, “Why?”

“Money, Thomas, that and a way out.”

Thomas was aghast, still trying to take in the enormity of what Fanni was telling him. Fanni coughed again, this time holding his hand to the left side of his ribcage. Once he had recovered his composure, he started to explain.

“I know that you talked to Kenny about your concerns regarding the robberies. I felt the same, but didn’t have the balls to tell him, so I just kept going along with it because, let’s face it, the money was pretty good. However, a day or so after Sadoki took care of Aditti’s convoy I was approached by a man who introduced himself only as Khalid. At first I thought he was trying to hustle me but he soon put me straight. ‘I know who you are, what you do and who you are connected to,’ he said. At first I denied any knowledge of what he was talking about but then he mentioned Kenny’s name.” He stopped to try to take in some breath into his bruised lungs.

“We walked to a local bar and he explained that there were certain parties that may be interested in the demise of the gang and that they were willing to pay handsomely for this demise to be expedited.

“When I told him that he should go to hell, he passed me a piece of paper with a figure written on it.”

“ Thirty pieces of silver?” Thomas interjected.

“No, Thomas. I know what you are referring to and I don’t blame you, but this amount of money was more than I could ever dream of earning in a lifetime with Kenny. Not only would it set me up for life but it would give me a chance to escape from the gang, from Lagos. I’m like you Thomas — I was really uncomfortable with the idea of going back into bank robberies but I knew that I was in too deep to be able to pull myself out. Kenny would have seen me as too dangerous to be set loose. I knew far too much.”

“We’re only similar in terms of intellectual ability,” Thomas said, his blood racing through his body and mixing with adrenaline and hate, “but morally, you are lower than the rats that scuffle around in the drains.”

“I know,” admitted Fanni. “I know that now. As long as I live, however long that may be, I will never be able to forgive myself.” He stopped, looking for some kind of absolution from Thomas, but there was none.

“I thought about Khalid’s offer for a long time, but eventually I capitulated and contacted him on the phone number that he had given me when we first met in the bar. Once I told him that I would cooperate I was shocked by how quickly things were arranged. It was then that I was told that someone would be contacting Kenny to arrange an insurance job, and that once all of the details were settled I was to tell Khalid the precise plan of action for that night.”

“Why didn’t you tell Kenny?” Thomas yelled, raising himself halfway out of his seat. “Why did all of the guys have to be executed like that?”

“I couldn’t — you have to believe me. Khalid told me from the outset that if any word of this got to Kenny, my mother and sisters in Abuja would be gunned down.”

Thomas felt a sudden flash of sympathy cross his mind as he pictured himself in that situation. “You’ve been a fool, Fanni,” he said, slightly softening his tone.

“Yes, I have Thomas. But my idiocy did not stop there. I knew that the people who were willing to pay that kind of money to me had to be powerful, and you know that with power comes enormous wealth. I got greedy Thomas. I hacked into the telephone network’s computer and traced Khalid’s phone number to where he lived. I staked out his house for a few days but he was nowhere to be seen and then, when I was just about to give up, he turned up. When he came back out of his house I followed him. I figured that he would meet with his employer at some time and on that very same day I fell lucky. Guess where he went?”

“I’m in no mood for guessing games Fanni,” said Thomas.

“He went to Aditti’s house.”

Thomas gasped. He knew that Aditti was ruthless in his ambitions, but this was just appalling. “Why did you not tip off the authorities, Fanni,” he asked.

“Oh, come on, Thomas. How could I do that? I would have implicated myself for a start but let’s face it, Aditti has too many friends in high places. Who would have believed me anyway? No, I couldn’t report him, but I knew that I could blackmail him. A politician of Aditti’s standing would not be able to afford the scandal, whether it could be proven or not. I know that he would have manipulated the situation to clear his name but the mud would have stuck and damaged him irrevocably.”

Thomas could not help but become slightly intrigued. “What happened?” he asked, now leaning slightly forward on his chair.

Fanni coughed gently to try and clear his throat. “I slipped an official looking letter to one of his house guards, asking him to make sure that Aditti received it as it was an urgent communication from his campaign manager. Inside the letter I explained that I knew everything and that he should mention this to nobody otherwise I would blow the whistle on him. I gave him two days to get the cash together and instructed him when and where he could drop the cash. The drop was meant to happen this morning.”

“But it didn’t, did it?” interrupted Thomas. “He laid a trap for you.”

“Yes,” said Fanni. “I saw his car pull up and he got out, placed the bag of cash in the exact rubbish bin that I had told him and then the car shot off. I held on for a minute, watching the bin intensely to make sure that no one was watching and then I went for it. As soon as I lifted the bag out of the bin, what seemed like the whole Lagos police force descended on me. I’ve been here since then.” His voice tailed off into silence.

Thomas knew that he himself was now in big trouble. Aditti would be far too smart to tell the police that he was being blackmailed so he had turned the tables on Fanni. He would have told them that he had information regarding the bank robbery, that there was still a murderer on the loose and that he could be found at the time and place that Fanni himself had stipulated. He knew now why he had been brought into the station. He knew that Fanni had given in under the fierce physical interrogation and had given them Thomas’s name.

“What have you told them, Fanni?”

“I told them…” he began, but the door flew open and Rafa came in, flanked by the two officers that had previously brought Fanni into the cell and another two.

“Time is up,” he said. With that, the two policemen paced over to Fanni, grabbed an arm each and dragged him toward the door.

“Please forgive me, Thomas,” he screamed. “Please believe me that I never…” he cried, but was cut short as one of the guards slapped him across the mouth.

Something deep inside Thomas stirred, something that he knew may help his ex-colleague. “Forgive yourself, Fanni,” he called. “That will be your salvation.” As he said the last word he watched Fanni’s head disappear around the door and then heard his cries as he was hauled down the corridor.

Rafa closed the door and then there was silence. He walked over to the table and sat down in front of Thomas. “Remember what you have seen this evening, Mr. Katta.”

“What kind of trouble am I in?” Thomas asked.

Rafa let out a small laugh. “Interrogation begins at our next stop,” he said, and turned to the officers. “Let’s go boys.”

The trio walked him to a police car outside. He could not be sure, but Thomas thought he heard two or three muffled thuds emanating from inside the police building. He bowed his head and said to himself, God bless you Fanni, rest in peace, then whispered a silent prayer for himself.

One of them drove as the two others sandwiched Thomas in the back seat. None of them said anything. Some three agonising minutes later, Thomas noticed the car was going towards the State Government Secretariat, where he had met with Moji. Too confused to understand what was going on he resigned himself to his fate.

Once inside the complex, they led him to a plush and expansive waiting room and told him to sit in one of the cream leather sofas. Thomas wished for nothing. He just sat there blank. He saw from the wall clock to his right that it was 10 pm, but again, he felt that time had nothing to do with his fate.

Moments later, the door to the far end of the office burst open, ushering in the Chief Press Secretary, Sina Amao, the man he had wanted to see the first time he was there. Thomas felt some calm return to his stomach as Amao turned to the officers and said, “We’ll take it from here, gentlemen.”

One of the officers nodded and the men marched out the door in single-file formation. Once they were alone, Sina let out a sigh and waited. The silence between the two men was intense and nerve-wracking. Thomas was about to speak, but Sina held up his hand and cut him off. They sat quietly for another moment until the door finally opened. Thomas turned to see a tired, but handsome looking man in the Yoruba native dress enter the room. He quietly took a seat at the only table in the room and looked intently at Thomas as if he could see his internal organs.

Thomas wanted to blurt out a barrage of questions, but his body could not take in the oxygen or produce the energy to do so.

“Hello, Mr. Katta,” the man said. “I am the Governor’s Chief–of- Staff, Dr. Dayo Thomson.” He looked around the dimly lit room and then turned to Sina. “I hope we can settle this quickly.”

“Yes sir,” he said and turned to face Thomas. “We understand that you would like to work for Governor Taylor as a speech writer,” he said. “We also understand that you have received a generous offer to travel overseas and pursue your doctorate.”

“How do you know all of this?” Thomas asked.

Both the COS and Sina smiled.

“We have very reliable sources,” Sina replied. “Mrs. Adekunle told us the first part yesterday and your girlfriend told us the second part about an hour ago.”

Thomas nodded.

“Nancy is a very nice young woman,” the COS commented. “She was rather upset about your detention, but otherwise, my people said she was very sweet. They enjoyed speaking with her.”

“Speaking of my detention, sir,” Thomas blurted, “why am I being detained? Am I facing criminal charges?”

Sina dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “We didn’t come here to dicker about that,” he said. “We’re here to discuss your plans for the future, and the COS has taken the trouble to be here in person because of his interest.”

“I won’t have a future if I get sent to prison,” Thomas countered.

Sina laughed. “You do remember who we are, don’t you, Thomas?”

Thomas nodded tentatively, but he wasn’t sure he completely understood the underlying message.

“Thomas,” the COS cleared his throat and began, “it has been brought to the Governor’s attention that you were the sole author of the New Lagos Manifesto, which has been cited by many as a revolutionary oratory. It played an especially important role in his election as governor. I would therefore like to offer you a position on his staff as Special Assistant in charge of composing speeches and media material. And you will be working closely with Sina.”

With one huge sigh Thomas let out all of the fear that had been building up in his body since he had been taken from Nancy earlier that day. It was now apparent that he was not going to suffer the same fate as Fanni. He snapped out of this thought and gathered his senses together.

“I’m very flattered, Dr. Thompson,” he responded, his head now in a whirl. “I had planned to speak to some of your staff about securing a position with the state government.”

“We know,” Sina stated.

For the first time since he had been whisked away from his home, Thomas actually laughed.

“Thomas,” the COS added, “we have reviewed your background and taken note of how you got involved in criminal activities. Not that the circumstances save you from punishment, but considering your potential you could be pardoned for any offences you may have committed against the people of Lagos. Our lawyers will handle that. As far as the job is concerned, you will be very well compensated for your services with a generous salary and complete insurance coverage, which includes medical and dental policies for yourself and Nancy.”

Thomas felt his eyes widen. “This is a very generous offer, sir” he said. “I sincerely appreciate it.”

“So… you are accepting it?” Sina pressed. “May we inform the Mordys that they can bestow their scholarship upon another worthy candidate?”

The legs on Thomas’s chair screeched on the floor as he sat back in deep thought. “Is it not possible for me to accept the scholarship as well?” he asked. “I’m sure a doctoral education would greatly improve my writing skills.”

“I’m sure it would,” Sina agreed, “but circumstances in Lagos change so quickly that we need you here to compose speeches on the spot. We can’t offer you this position and then have you travel overseas.”

Thomas grimaced. “I’ve never been overseas,” he confessed. “I was actually looking forward to seeing the world. I may never get another chance.”

“Sure, you will,” the COS jumped in. “Your position with the administration will allow for suitable vacation time. You can travel then.”

“There will also be times when the Governor will travel overseas,” Sina added. “He will need both of us to accompany him to compose his remarks to foreign dignitaries.”

Thomas could not believe his ears. He was being offered the most lucrative opportunity he could possibly imagine. Anyone else would jump head-first at the offer. He didn’t understand why he felt so confused.

“Thomas,” Sina stated, “you are already an educated man. I understand what you’re thinking — one can never be too educated — but we are offering you a chance to develop your skills on the job. You will learn a great deal about the operations of government and you will be in constant contact with some of the most powerful and influential people in the country. You will be assuring yourself a glowing future not just during the Governor’s tenure, but long after it is through.”

“If that weren’t enough,” the COS added, “you will be serving your country in a positive manner.”

Thomas concentrated his thoughts. The COS had just tapped into Thomas’s ingrained patriotism with one quick sentence. He was about to ask one more question when Sina interrupted his inner monologue.

“Sorry, the COS has to leave now.”

Thomas stood up, and prostrated before Dr. Thompson the way he would do to elders in Moso. “I graciously accept the offer, sir.”