Which Came First? The Chicken Or The Egg?
“Oga, it’s like one of the back tyre get problem. My steering is shaking.” Mike said.
Mr. Owolabi looked up from his newspaper. This was the last thing he needed. They were on Carter Bridge. He glanced at the Patek Phillipe Aquanaut on his wrist. It was already past 9a.m. Traffic had been heavy on Eko bridge that morning and he had only just heaved a sigh of relief at escaping it. He was in a hurry to meet his 09:30 appointment in Ikeja. At this rate, it wasn’t going to happen.
He considered his options. Usually, he had a policy of never stopping along the road no matter the circumstances. But it was broad daylight and his driver was in the car. Where was the harm? He noticed a street sweeper had put up her cones slightly further ahead and instructed Mike to clear at that point to check the tyre.
“Oga, it’s the back tyre on my side. It’s down.” Mike spoke from outside the car. He had parked as instructed by his boss and alighted to confirm the source of the problem.
“Down? Like flat? Totally? Or still with some air?” Mr. Owolabi enquired.
“Oga, it’s down. Completely down.” Mike spoke emphatically.
“In that case, we might as well change it.” Mr. Owolabi said. He didn’t like the idea of doing this on the highway. But since they had already stopped, it shouldn’t take long. They might as well.
Mike began the process of loosening the flat tyre. He did this and then began to loosen the spare and to bring out the tools required for the tyre change. Owolabi looked back from his seat inside the car and noticed a slightly unkempt youth running towards the car. He shook his head. Wondering how to repel the young man. Before the lone youth got to the car, he was joined by 2 others. Owolabi wondered how they managed to arrive so quickly. Surely, they must possess a very efficient network.
As soon as they reached the car and began to talk to Mike, Owolabi turned and spoke to them in firm tones. He told them their help wasn’t needed. That they should leave the driver to do his work. His words had no impact on the youths. While he was speaking, 3 others joined. From where, he couldn’t tell. They seemed to materialise out of thin air. Owolabi again told them to back off as their help was not needed. One of them who appeared to be the leader of the group advised Owolabi not to worry.
“Daddy, no problem. We’re here to help you. We will protect you so that coming car will not hit you. If LASTMA see us with you, they will not disturb. We will even help your driver to change the tyre. After, you will find us something.” The young man spoke in broken English. Owolabi knew he was meant to be reassured by these words yet he couldn’t help but be alarmed by the presence of threatening-looking young men who outnumbered and definitely out-muscled him and Mike. If push came to shove, they were goners. Owolabi took a headcount. There were 11 of them.
“My driver can change the tyre by himself and LASTMA is not my problem. You are the problem I have right now. Please go.” Owolabi said.
The youths ignored him and continued to ‘help’ the driver. When all the work was done, the youths seized the jack, left the car jacked up and demanded a fee of N10k in order to “complete” the work and release him. They ignored entreaties from the driver, refused to bring the car back down and sent him to inform Owolabi that they were done and he should pay for their services.
Owolabi was not happy when Mike told him what the youths said. “N10k?” He shouted. “What for? I told them that I did not need their help. They had done nothing that his driver wasn’t capable of doing.
“Why are they demanding 10k? No way. Mike, go and talk to them and let’s get out of here.” Owolabi used his best no-nonsense tone to address Mike.
The leader approached Owolabi directly to inform him of their fee. “Daddy, we have finished the work. Pay us.” He demanded.
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Owolabi was adamant. “I told you that my driver is capable of doing his work, why do I have to pay you?” Even as he tried to browbeat and intimidate the leader by talking tough, Owolabi knew that he would ultimately have to negotiate with them and reach a price. This was their turf and he could either play along and end this nicely, or try to be a hard guy and it would end in tears. The choice was his.
The rest of the youths began to mumble and get restive in the background. Mike approached his boss inside the car. “Oga, please follow them to talk. This is how they always do.”
The leader returned to his crew and from the back of the car spoke up. “Oga, if you want, settle us, we will go. If you no wan settle us, we will detain you here and call LASTMA to pick you up. If you reach their office with them, that one na N50k.”
“What do you mean by that?” Owolabi asked.
“Oga, we don talk finish. You can settle us with 10k, or you can prove stubborn and we will call LASTMA for you.” This was said by the leader of the group.
It dawned on Mr. Owolabi that he was dealing with a well-organised cartel. This was no random crew. He beckoned to Mike. “Call their leader for me.”
The leader came and Owolabi said to him; “Look, I have no 10k to give you. I am on my way to work. I don’t know what impression you have of me and other people you see inside cars. All of us in Nigeria get problem.” Owolabi was trying to speak pidgin / broken English to blend in with them. It felt odd on his tongue. “Buhari is dealing with everyone. The fact that I’m inside this car doesn’t mean that I am free from problem. As you have your own, I get my own. All of us are Nigerians facing everything together.” Owolabi ended.
Surprisingly, the leader and the rest of his crew who had drawn close were listening to him and nodding their heads. They agreed that they were all united in the hardship inflicted by Nigeria. In conciliatory tones, they asked Owolabi how much he had.
In that moment, Owolabi took the time to actually look at the faces of the young men. One by one, he took in their faces and features, he tried to see them beyond their present status. Then something dawned on him. The oldest looked no more than 23. These young people were part of a generation of Nigerians whom the country by years of poor governance had failed. Buhari might be the last straw breaking the camel’s back, but he wasn’t alone. Each government that had failed to take education seriously; that had failed to provide technical and other genuine skills training and education for youth. Each government that allowed education to decay, that allowed unemployment to fester, that encouraged thuggery during elections, all these people were complicit.
He had a son in final year in university in America, his daughters were in 2nd and 3rd year and his youngest was preparing for SATs. All his children were either in foreign universities or on the way to. They’d all had the best private education. They all had American citizenship. They had an escape route. What did these young men have?
On the heels of that thought, he wondered what the future held for these ones. For how long would they be satisfied to beg or demand with menaces?
Would his children and himself even be able to enjoy their own comforts if these young men and others like them didn’t have a measure of comfort? Truth was that Nigeria was on the cusp of something he was afraid to put a name to. If and when it happened, people like these would be easy recruits because they weren’t afraid to die. Repeated events in Lagos when young men not much different from these were recruited for a pittance to do the bidding of political godfathers and other wealthy people in society attested to this. How much longer before the thin threads holding them back snapped. He wondered. They had little or nothing to live for. For some of them, death would be a mercy.
He thanked God that he and his wife also had American citizenship. Worst case scenario, they would all leave. But really? Was that the best he could think of? Was this really the way? How long he wondered could this go on?
He reached into his work bag and extracted a bunch of notes. There were 11 young men. He counted N22k and gave it to the leader. He knew it was nothing in the scheme of things. But it was the best he could do. They probably had a sharing formula and someone they had to make returns to.
The fact that he’d calculated N2k/head was no guarantee that the sharing would happen in that proportion. He wished he could do more, but this was the best he could do. He had no jobs to offer them.
The young men couldn’t believe their good fortune. They thanked him profusely for his generosity.
Mike got into the car, and they drove off.
The End.
