I Do Not Come to You by Chance - By Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani Page 0,122

the Iranian Embassy and make a report?’ Buchi asked.

‘How can?’ Wizard and Ogbonna replied at the same time.

‘Even if we pretend to be his relatives,’ I explained, ‘that means we’ll have to give them our contact details to get back to us when they find him. That could just be a neat trap for them to catch all of us.’

The two new recruits flashed wide open eyes, their faces flooded with dread.

‘How about the Nigerian Embassy in Tehran?’ one of them asked.

‘Who will we tell them we’re looking for?’ Ogbonna asked back. ‘Sheik Shamshudeen or what?’

‘What do you think they could have done to him?’ the second one asked.

‘Ah,’ Wizard replied. ‘You know in Iran they use Sharia law. They can either cut off his two hands or just behead him. Simple.’

There was a deathly silence.

‘Kings, maybe you should let Cash Daddy know,’ Buchi suggested quietly.

‘Let’s wait a little and see what happens,’ I replied. ‘I’ll try to think of something.’

After all, it was all my fault. Why had I changed Azuka’s mind about his bad luck? His pessimism might have been his salvation. Perhaps, I did not present my misgivings strongly enough. He might have been dissuaded from going.

‘We’re here worrying ourselves,’ Wizard said with an attempt at cheer in his voice. ‘For all we know, they might have given him seventy virgins to keep him busy. That might be why he’s forgotten to call.’

Nobody laughed.

I went through the rest of the day’s tasks like a zombie. All my colleagues looked as if they had been sautéed in a deep fog. I thought, kept thinking, and continued thinking, but no solution came to mind. This 419 thing had always been like a game to me - hooking mugus, making hits, returning to the scene of the crime and making more hits. For the first time, I was seeing a chill wind in our game. My sang-froid was in ribbons.

Eventually, I rang Merit. Thankfully, her evening was free.

‘I’ll be at your house around six,’ I said.

‘OK, I’ll ask my brother to watch out for you.’

At least there was something cheerful to look forward to after all this gloom. Merit’s company was a true delight. She could discuss any topic intelligently, her opinions always made sense, but unlike Ola, she was quick to say whatever she thought. At first, I was concerned that she might be an Aunty Dimma in training, but Merit knew the limits of womanhood. On one of the evenings we were out together, I got tired of wincing each time she leaned towards me and finally told her what I thought of her new hairdo.

‘You look much better with your natural hair,’ I said. ‘I don’t think you need to use hair extensions.’

Plus, the hair reminded me too much of the Camille crew. There was never any of them who did not have someone else’s hair stitched into her scalp.

For almost thirty minutes after my comment, Merit made her strong arguments for hair extensions. At a point, I just kept quiet and let her talk.

‘And who says it’s someone else’s hair?’ she concluded. ‘After all, I paid for it with my own money.’

Nevertheless, she had taken off the extensions the very next day.

After all was said and done, I preferred a girl who was forthright from the beginning to one who was coy and submissive when things were good and who ended up shutting you out coldly when things went bad.

And best of all, since meeting Merit, I had never once rung Camille.

Days later, I was still worrying about Azuka. I acknowledged defeat at last. Cash Daddy’s phone rang out the first time. The second time, he answered after seven rings. His environment sounded rowdy.

‘Cash Daddy, please, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s about the office.’

‘What type of rubbish is that?’ he yelled. ‘Why didn’t he sign the document?’

I heard a cowering response from someone in the background and was relieved to realise that my uncle had not been talking to me.

‘And so what if it’s not their policy?’ he yelled on.

The beneficiary of his tirade said something.

‘What car does he drive?’ Cash Daddy asked.

I did not hear the response.

‘Burn down that old car and resurrect another one for him within three days,’ Cash Daddy replied. ‘Then take that document back for him to sign.’

Cash Daddy then returned to me.

‘Kings, what’s the problem? How can you be disturbing me with office matters now? I’m beginning to get very suspicious of you. Do you