Show me off, show me to the world... My favourite song from the music legend Asa, played through my phone, breaking the morning calm and silence a unique alarm tone I had set about a year now, which also serves as my ringing tone, jolting me up from sleep, rather than putting it off and continue sleeping as I would usually do on my lazy off days, this day was different, I allowed it played as I immediately mumbled what seemed like the shortest of prayer and moved to check if mum was still asleep, as we had plans to visit my favorite aunt living at port Harcourt today.
I had long anticipated this day, it was probably the excitement of getting to visit my aunt and hold her newborn baby for the first time, as the last time we saw her was when we bid her farewell to her husband's house after her wedding also because it was my first time visiting the city of port Harcourt, one of the crazy states in Nigeria I've heard so much about.
Mum was an early riser, so she was already awake, head covered, already on bended knees, elbows supported by the bed as she effortlessly prayed to her maker, one would think she was having one-on-one communication with a physical being, the way she prays, I knew there was no way I could interrupt her, so I let her take her time, much to my impatience, kneeling beside her, I couldn't wait to leave this village as it was boring, not as I had envisaged before we arrived from Lagos, I thought I would get to see some of my cousins but to my dismay, they were all in school now, and I was the only young person around in our family house as the older ones held the family meeting that brought us here, I was more like the errand girl during the short one week of our stay, finally there was another reason to be excited about.
We were to spend an extra week in Port Harcourt before traveling back to Lagos, AMEN! I echoed with a loud affirming tone, giving Mum a hint that time was not on our side anymore, and it worked as she rounded off the prayers.
We prepared quickly and breakfast was eaten more in silence, I wondered what was concluded in the meeting that had Mum worried, my mind was also filled with the journey ahead. We arrived at the park as different bus conductors struggled among themselves to help with our bags and get us to board their vehicle, we finally settled for one, and and in about an hour, we were in Port Harcourt. The journey would have been smooth if not for the bad roads, a complaint Nigerians are already tired of voicing to the government ears, but it was still better than what we faced ahead.
As we alighted at another park in Port Harcourt, I was met with a sight not so different from Lagos, this was worst though, the tarred road had deeply divided into two due to erosion or maybe due to the use of substandard materials, it still, held its high spirit up as there were hawkers, passengers, traders everywhere bubbling this part of the city up. I opened my messenger and read the address description again making sure I didn't miss anything.
From the park, take a cab to OPM FREE RESTAURANT and another to Johnson Street
The first driver of the first Cab we saw was a man in his late 30's or early 40's,
'where una dey go?' he asked in pidgin English, inquiring about our destination
I relayed the address description to him, the mistake I made was making it obvious to him that I had never been to where I was going, an innocent mistake only if I were in a saner environment.
'enter, make I take you there* he replied almost immediately, assuring us of a safe trip and also relayed the cost
We entered the back seat, expecting him to move, only for another passenger to approach him again asking for directions, at first I wasn't paying attention to their discussion, as my focus was more on reaching our destination, not until he called our attention to let the man join us, as it seems he was going our way and he is a foreigner who seems lost because he couldn't communicate in English, just french,
We didn't suspect anything and allowed him take the front seat, my mum must have taken pity on him, while I couldn't care less.
We'd only moved for a few minutes, when the driver started explaining his reasons for pairing him with us on this drive, according to him, he understood French language and the foreigner who sat quietly the whole time had explained to him how he had brought goods worth millions into the country but his supposed business partners played a fast one on him, cheating him and he didn't want to do business any longer, but rather wants to sell what is left at a much cheaper price so he could leave for his country,
While this conversation was going on, we didn't notice that the cab was moving in circles, and he tried convincing my mum to take advantage of the opportunity. This time the foreigner joined in speaking the supposed "French" language while the driver interpreted, saying what the goods consisted of and they were in a warehouse he could take my mum to, and he was willing to give her goods worth 50 million for a million naira because she was kind enough to let him pair up with us in the cab, it was at this point I smelled a rat play and nudged my mum with my feet, signaling my feelings to her, she took cue and kept replying them that she wasn't interested and didn't even have the money to invest.
Surprisingly, they kept reducing the amount in disguise of doing her a favour, and she kept to her stance, it was beginning to look like something else but we dare not reveal how we felt because we didn't know what more they had up their sleeves, still moving for what felt like an hour now
'oga we never reach where we dey go?' I asked, demanding why the journey was taking so long, just then, he stepped the accelerator, increasing the speed of the vehicle, I wondered if it was my question that provoked him, only to turn and see that we were being pursued by the police
To cut the long story short, the police finally caught up with us, landing multiple slaps on his face, my heart was pounding so fast out of fear and rage, it wasn't after we arrived at the police station and gave a statement of what happened in the cab, we were told that they were kidnappers who has been on their trail for a long time, they followed a tip from a citizen who became suspicious of the way they drove in circle around that area, we had to spend the night in the police station, my aunty who had prepared a delicious meal for us waiting our arrival has been overwhelmed with worry after she didn't hear from us after an hour as our phones were seized during investigation, and released the next morning to us.
As we spent the night in the police station, giving our statements and recounting the events that transpired in the cab, I couldn't help but think about my aunt and the delicious meal she had prepared for us. The newborn baby, whom I had been looking forward to meeting, was now a distant memory, overshadowed by the fear and uncertainty we had faced.
The police officers were professional and sympathetic toward us, they bought food in takeaway plates for me and my mum, and it was evident they had dealt with cases like ours before. They took our statements, recorded every tiny detail, and assured us that the kidnappers would face justice.
The next morning, after a sleepless night on the cold, hard benches of the police station, we were finally released. Our phones were returned, and I quickly dialed my aunt's number to let her know we were safe. Her voice was filled with worry as she promised to be at the police station soon, and as promised she arrived very quickly, apologizing to me and my mum as if she were the cause, how would she have known that we would fall victim to kidnappers.
As we made our way to her house, I couldn't help but think about the what-ifs. What if the police hadn't caught up with us? What if we had gotten into the warehouse? The thought sent shivers down my spine.
When we arrived at my aunt's house, she welcomed us again warmly as tears filled up her eyes, she showed us to the guest room and we had to take a proper bath first and change our clothing, she also hurried to prepare us a delicious meal.
The newborn baby was already awake as my mum held him close, and also passed him to me, I felt more grateful to finally be in this moment.
The rest of our stay in Port Harcourt was bittersweet as the experience had left a mark on us. My mum was more cautious, and all the thrill I had to tour the city faded away. I spent the week indoors with the newborn and aunt as we prepared for our final journey back to Lagos.
Image 1 is generated using meta AI
Image 2 is mine
