"Hey, want to make a million in fortunes?" The man walking beside Tega had a characteristic fixed smile that set off a warning alarm in his head.
He examined the man. He looked like a man who could make use of a hundred. His shoes were so unevenly worn that it made his feet appear bow-legged, reminiscent of a dog's hind legs. He could have been between thirty to sixty years. Hardship has a way of making guessing someone's age appear like rocket science. He was sweating and in dire need of a handkerchief. He raised a hand to wipe the sweat threatening to blind him, Tega caught a glimpse of dirty fingernails. He was curious as to what the man was selling, and against his better judgement he asked, "What exactly are you selling?"
The man paused mid-stride, "I knew it, I know you are the type of man that will not miss out on an opportunity, especially when it is guaranteed to be a winner."
Tega waited.
"Well, I can see you are obviously a man who knows what he wants and goes for it. In order not to waste your time, I'll gladly jump into the details of what I'm selling. I'm selling numbers."
"Numbers," Tega repeated. It was both a question and a statement. Tega's usually smooth features creased as his incredulity increased.
"Yes, digits. Numbers that can make you rich." The man continued unfazed.
Numbers that can make you rich? Tega wondered if this was a new scam. Then Mr I-can-make-you-richer-than-me certainly picked the wrong person.
"Oh, sorry. Pardon my bad manners. My name is Mr Kingsley. My friends call me Kings." He smiled expansively, revealing a gold tooth.
The reply came as if on cue. It was as if Kingsley could read his mind.
To say the man walking with Tega was an odd sort is to say that rain is wet. Tega was intrigued. He is naturally curious and could still hear his mother's voice echoing, "Tega, remember that curiosity killed the cat."
He always brushed off that advice, the mother may be a wise school teacher, but he doubted if she ever remembered that the same cat had nine lives.
"Ok, I consider myself a man that understands a lot of things," he laughed a little to dissipate the uneasy feeling. "I cannot seem to understand what you mean."
"Oh, I see you are new my learned gentleman. But there's always a first time," Kingsley added with laughter.
He continued, "I know the country is in a bad patch ever since the new President came to power, no jobs, the price of petroleum is almost nothing, no security, everyone is trying to help themselves survive."
Tega wondered where all this was going. He waited.
"What I do is simple, I sell the winning numbers of games to betters."
Oh, that. Now it was making sense.
"If you know the winning number and could sell it, what stops you from getting rich yourself? You are not dressed like a rich man. Even your shoes are begging to be released to the dustbin." Tega retorted. He was not a naturally rude person. But he was hoping to at least piss him off so he would leave him alone.
But the effect of his remarks fell off him like water off the back of a duck.
"Temper. Temper. Cool your temper my young friend. This gift is both a blessing and a curse. I know the numbers, it only works if another person plays it. Believe me, my friend. I have tried many times; my numbers just don't work when I use them. You are not the only person who has asked me this. I always have an offer none of my clients have ever refused."
He suddenly stopped talking. Tega, sensing that was a trick to make him inquire what the offer was, ignored falling into the trap, and continued walking.
"Sorry, but I will give you the offer nevertheless. You are a tough customer." He laughed.
Tega thought the man was obviously out of his mind. But he was enjoying the cool evening breeze and had about a kilometre to his destination. He was going to enjoy the walk, with or without this fast-talking con man.
"Do you have a pen?" the man inquired.
"No," Tega replied without looking at him.
"That is no issue, children of nowadays hardly have a pen." Tega looked at him.
"No, I didn't say that out of disrespect. Your generation now has something we never had. Cellphones." He smiled.
"Take out your phone, and type in this game. If it works for you, I'll be standing where you saw me. You can pay me then. No harm done."
Reluctantly Tega agreed, if not for anything but to get rid of the man. He brought out his phone, keeping a safe distance just in case he wanted to grab it and run. Nothing was strange in these streets. The man smiled as if he read his mind and called up a series of games and their scores.
"That's all, pay me tomorrow if you make any money." And with that Kings made an abrupt U-turn and began to walk the other way. Tega typed the teams and supposedly winning numbers in his message. He hit the back button as soon as the weird man left and the message disappeared.
Six days later, Tega was hanging out with his boisterous friend, Chizoba. As usual, Chizoba was on a call; he was laughing and cracking silly jokes when suddenly he looked at his phone.
"I am going to Malam Salisu shop, and this is the second time he sold batteries to me that don't last more than four hours. But before I do that, Tega could you be so kind as to remove your SIM and let me use your phone?" He asked.
"Zoba, how many times have I told you to sell that phone and get a new one?" Tega asked humorously.
"Thirteen. If you add today's own, it'd be fourteen. But nobody is counting." He laughed. "Give me your phone before I miss this one million naira connection." He reached for his friend's phone.
Moments later he was making calls with the phone. He stopped midsentence.
"I'll be damned. These MTN people are thieves! I could swear that I had about N500 remaining credit on this phone." He was furious as he looked suspiciously at his friend's phone. He dialled the code to check his remaining credit and got a reply via SMS. He checked it. His account balance had nothing on it.
He was now going through the text when he looked up and remarked," I didn't figure you as a game boy." He was smiling at his friend.
Tega quickly snatched his phone from his friend.
"Now, you must buy me credit. I didn't know you were the one that cleaned them out last week." Chizoba could be a pain in the neck, and right now Tega had no idea what he was driving at.
A look at his phone was all it took for him to understand. He thought he deleted it. Staring at him was the message he thought he deleted. It was saved in the draft section of the message box of his phone. It was the series of numbers the madman gave him.
He quickly removed his friend's SIM and put his back. He logged into his browser and searched the BetRich company's website. They were the biggest online gaming company in the country. Staring at him on the front page was the exact same number the weird man gave him six days ago. Beside it is the jackpot-winning of $1,000,000.
He went hot, then cold. And hot again.
Why didn't he take the man seriously?
"What did you say about buying me that phone credit, my young millionaire?" Chizoba teasingly asked again.
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