Chapter 05

The day after they left Abuja, Donatus and his charge arrived in Lagos. Due to the long journey, they had spent the previous night in a hotel and finished the journey by morning. "'This your place?", Timmy asked as they drove through the gate into Donatus' compound in Lagos. But his father's friend gave no reply. He simply parked in front of the small but beautiful buildings and alighted from the car. "Somethin' cute ain't it?", Tim said as he also stepped out of the car. "Never imagined you'd be holed up in a place like this, Donuts." "Welcome Oga," a young man rushed to meet them followed closely by two others, one of whom had opened the gate. They took Donatus' bag from him, but they didn't dare suggest that he part with his large purse. "Mba mba mba! Let him carry his own bag," he ordered, shaking his head vigorously in disapproval, as one of the boys wanted to help Timmy with his bag. Timmy looked surprised for a second, but finally shrugged and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Yo Donuts," he called as Donatus began to walk toward the bigger of the two houses. "Who's gon' pick up ma things in the trunk?" "Don't you have hands?", Donatus shot back. "And look here, don't you ever, from this day onward, call me donut again. If you can't call me Uncle Donatus, call me Oga Dona. Or sir. Or even Uncle. Onyeberibe." Timmy watched in surprise as he walked off angrily. When Donatus was finally out of sight, he turned to the boys who were now staring at him as if he was a new species of insect just discovered by a scientist. "Yo, what're you guys staring at? Go pick up the damn things from the trunk." With hisses and shake of heads, they all turned around and walked away. "Hey, where you guys going?", Timmy called after them. But none of them paid any attention to him. He put his hands on his waist and shook his head ruefully. "Gotta head back to Abhooja, man. Fucking donut heads out here." *** As he puffed, sweated and strained under box after box of his possessions, Timmy wondered what amount of sightseeing could possibly make up for all this suffering. He had called his mother and she had told him to be patient and that everything would turn out alright. He'd do anything for her, so he would stick with it for two days, but if the suffering continued, he'd have no choice but to return to Abuja immediately. As he dropped the last of the boxes in the sitting room, Donatus walked in from his room, clad in only a singlet and trousers. "What's all this?", he asked in surprise, referring to Timmy's boxes. "My things, man. Mom packed the damn Universe," Timmy grumbled as he stretched his tired bones. "What are they doing here? Don't you know where the Boys Quarter is? My friend, take them to the Boys Quarter! Onyeara." "What!", Timmy shouted. "Boys Quarters? Damn! This is the height of it. Hey, see here, Donuts..." Like lightning, Donatus' palm flew through the air and struck Timmy hard on the cheek before he could complete his statement. The slap sent the boy to the ground and he promptly burst into tears. "Fuck you, man!", he shouted as he cried. "How dare you hit me? I'm gonna have your head! When Pops hears about this, you gon' spend the rest of your miserable life in jail!" "Wait for me," Donatus said and rushed back into his rooms. He returned immediately with a long, wicked-looking koboko and made for Timmy like fire following a trail of gasoline. Timmy knew he was in trouble and he quickly scrambled to his feet and ran outside, cursing as he ran. Donatus ran after him, but stopped at the doorway, from where he could see the Boys Quarters. "Henry! Chukwuka! Chidi!" Immediately, the three boys jumped out of the Quarters and rushed over to their boss. "Come, come here," he ordered, leading them into his sitting room. "Throw this rubbish out. Throw them... throw everything outside. Nonsense!" Fuming, he picked up his phone and dialed a number as the boys unceremoniously threw out all of Timmy's boxes from the sitting room into the packing area. "I'll have your balls, you Donuts! And y'all are gon' join 'im in prison. I promise you that! You hear me? You'll rot in jail, all o' you!" When the boys had done their work, they all three retreated to their residence, leaving only their boss and his latest apprentice. "You, Timothy or whatever you call yourself," Donatus fumed, pointing angrily at Timmy. "Don't worry, you will see pepper in this house. Jail, abi? Don't worry, we shall see. We shall see." And then he walked into his house, his phone on his ear and slammed the door shut behind him. After he was gone, Timmy went over to the flowers at the side of the house and slumped to a sitting position on the ground. "Fuck you, Mom! Fuck you, Pops! You guys sent me to get beat by this filthy donut. You got a lotta making up to do, you know. This guy's gotta die in jail, nothing else!" Then he pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed his mother, crying as he did so. The operator informed him that the line was unavailable at the moment and that he should try again later. He paused his crying to listen to the message. Then he dialed his father and restarted the crying immediately, but the operator told him the line was switched off. "Fuck!", he shouted, throwing the phone away in anger. He fumed for a few seconds and then went over to pick it up. The screen was cracked, but he still had a good view. He dialed his mother again, but this time it was declared switched off. His father again, but the same story. Then he dialed his eldest sister. ***** "Mama!", Dora called as she marched into the large parlour of her parents' house. "Papa! Who's at home?", she shouted again as she heard no response. "Who's that shouting like a mad person in my house?", Rebecca asked as she came down the stairs. "Mama, what's this I'm hearing?", she asked as she marched over to meet her mother. "Is that your new style of greeting?" "Good Morning, Mama. Where's Timmy?" "Timmy has gone to Lagos. Why do you ask?", she sighed as she took her seat on a sofa, but her eldest daughter remained standing. "He called me yesterday, saying that he's being maltreated and beaten wherever it is that you sent..." "And so?" "Eh?", Dora was shell shocked. "Mama, I'm talking of Timmy o. Your son, your only son... my brother." "And I said, 'And so?'" "I... Wh... I don't understand. But..." "But what? Did you ask him what he did to earn the slap he received?" "But Mama, no matter what he did, he's still your son na. You can't send him to another person's house to be maltreated!" "Will you shut up! Were you the one that impregnated me with the sperm that formed him? Chor chor chor chor chor chor chor, you run your mouth like a grinding machine without knowing what's going on. Timothy was insulting a man old enough to be his uncle, calling him names and threatening to send him to jail for life. The man called me immediately. I was even hearing the shouts of your stupid brother in the background." "Ehh..," Dora hesitated, scratching her hair and shifting from one foot to the other. "But Mama, you..." "But nothing! We were the ones that sent him there to learn a real way of life. Since he doesn't have any fear for us, he will see somebody that will make him fear. It is for his own good. If he grows up like this, you'll regret ever having such a brother. He's my son. I want to protect him, but I also want him to be useful to the society. You cannot love him more than I who gave birth to him. So, as you marched in here, what did you intend to do? Fight me?" "Ah no o, Mama. I just... em... since it's just a misunderstanding, I'm very sorry. It will never happen again." "It better not. So how's your husband?" "He's fine, ma. In fact, I have to go and pick him up right now. He's waiting for..." "So you left your husband waiting and came all the way here for such a stupid reason?" "Ah Mama, it's the power of a sister's love na. Anyway, I called you and Papa several times, but your lines were switched off. Let me be going, Mama. Take care. Greet Papa for me. And please, don't tell him why I came." "No problem," Rebecca smiled in understanding. "Your secret is safe with me." ***** Timmy was just dozing off when his phone rang. He jerked to 'alert and awake' mode and squinted at the screen. Dora! Oh, Donuts was in trouble. The police must already be on their way. "Hello sis, h..." "Timmy, don't talk. Just listen to me." "Listening," Timmy replied, thinking she was going to walk him through the escape procedures she must have gotten from the police chief. "Mom has told me everything. You sent me to make a big fool of myself. I was lucky that Dad did not meet me, I would have fallen into hot soup. Like I said, Mom has told me everything. You need to calm down and be polite, Timmy. Just be patient. I'm sure that, if you behave well, the man will not maltreat you. Just do what he says, it's for your own good. I love you, Timmy. Please be a good boy. Bye." And the connection was cut off. Timmy stared open-mouthed at the phone as if it wasn't his. Why on earth was everyone turning against him? What did he do to deserve all this? As he was about to burst into real tears, he suddenly remembered his last option: Tracy! She was the firecracker of the family. The fearless and defiant one. If anyone could help him, it was Trace. He speed-dialed her and breathed a huge sigh of relief as it began to ring. She picked up on the third ring. "Hello," a sharp voice greeted his ears. "Yo, Trace. How you doing? I..." "Who's this?" "It's me, Timmy Cool, your brother. I..." "Oh Timmy. How are you?" "I ain't fine, sis." "Why? What happened?" Then he proceeded to narrate his ordeal of the last 48 hours. But he had hardly gone halfway through his story when his elder sister interrupted him. "Look look look, Timmy. I don't have time to solve anybody's problems now. Do you know what I'm passing through here in school? Who'll solve my own problems? I don't even blame you sef. Since you're the last born and the only son, and you did not even school in Nigeria sef, you can never understand my problems. Ever since that wicked father of yours banned me from pocket money for two months, life has not been easy for me. If you know how much I'm owing for only hair and shoes, you'll pity me and you'll never bother me for anything. Just try to solve your problems by yourself. If they beat you, beat them back and it will balance. Bye bye." The connection ended and this time, Timmy threw the phone away and started kicking about like a little child whose toy had been taken from him. "Oga Americana, you don make your call finish?", asked one of the boys, Henry, as he walked up to see Timmy putting up a show fit for the theatre. "Which one you dey dance like lizard wey fall inside hot oil? Anyway, Oga say make you join us go carry load from warehouse." "What!" "Come, you think say here na America? Oga say make you follow us. You... come... follow... join us... carry... load... from warehouse... to store. You hear?", he shouted as if he was talking to a half deaf simpleton. "Oh fuck fuck fuck," Timmy moaned, bursting into fresh tears. "Just see what ma own family's doing to me! Oh God, where are you?" "Jehovah," Henry blurted, staring at the crying boy in wonder. "From where dem for bring this one? No be Yaba Left this one suppose dey? (to Timmy) Hey, look here, we dey go o. You better come now or we go leave you go. If Oga meet you here eh, you are on your own o." And then he walked off to join his colleagues with Timmy coming behind him in a peculiar style of reluctance.