A Dirty Game

Chapter Twelve

93 Twelve eeks counted. It was a Monday morning and the airport was full with passengers. Kennedy is dressed this day in a dusty dark suit and ready to leave for Germany. At the airport were people with trays of boiled eggs, groundnuts, cola nuts, jewellers, gamblers and many others, all of them struggling to survive. People were as busy as ants. Kennedy was already inside the first checkroom for visa control. Those outside could watch them through a large glass window. His mother stood outside waving with a big smile. Kennedy stood behind a young man of about twentythree years. The young man’s passport was checked repeatedly. ‘Young man,’ asked a police officer, ‘is this your passport?’ ‘Yes Sir.’ The passport was taken to two other police officers. They all shook their heads in disagreement. A call was made and suddenly, two other officers came in and said to the young man, ‘You are under arrest.’ ‘Why, Sir?’ ‘You have tempered with the passport. It is not yours.’ They handcuffed and took him away. Ten minutes later, he appeared again from outside with a Lieutenant. Epaulets on the lieutenant’s shoulders could explain how powerful he could be. He was huge and appeared to be of high security command. On the right at the control room was a small corner demarcated with ceiling boards for dumping of cargo that wasn’t allowed to be taken along. The Lieutenant didn’t respect the queue. He walked straight to the police officers. They gave him a military salute. ‘Excuse me,’ he said to them and one of them followed him to the tiny corner. The boy stood waiting with a W 94 hateful face. Two minutes passed. The lieutenant was about to leave. The boy and the police officers thanked him joyously. From their faces, there had been an immense compensation. No one knew what discussion took place at the corner but for sure, something had happened. The police looked at the passport again. ‘What happened to your own passport?’ ‘I have never had one. I just bought it.’ ‘Well, watch out at the airport in France. Otherwise, the police will seize this pass and repatriate you.’ He took back the passport and thanked them so immensely. He was directed to the small path leading to the plane. Kennedy and the new friend were directed in. They walked so relaxed and confident. They were not the type with doubted passports. The plane was humming and passengers were listening to safety instructions. When the plane took off, Kennedy was dizzy. He soon closed his eyes. Some ugly unshaped thoughts came to his mind. ‘Wow,’ he thought. ‘This is just like a journey from one planet to the other. Why all these? This is really a cock and a bull story. Is it just because my parents are daredevils?’ He woke from his sleep and wiped his face with a disposable handkerchief. Okafor was just next to him. He watched him. ‘I am feeling dizzy,’ he said to him. ‘Yes it’s like that sometimes.’ For some length of time, Kennedy spoke no word. Okafor noticed that Kennedy was worried. ‘Is Germany a nice place to live?’ asked Kennedy. ‘Well,’ he responded, ‘it is good but sometimes could be so stressful and frustrating.’ ‘How?’ ‘Emmm…’ doubted Okafor not knowing what to say. ‘You mean hard life? I hear it has a strong economy.’ 95 ‘You’re right. But men like you and I won’t be fortunate.’ ‘How?’ ‘Their money circulates within the economy and laymen like us have limits to have it, or to have good jobs like them. The whole thing turns to be modern slavery. Are you going for some business stuff?’ ‘Yes… I want to study the environment and to carry out some investments there. Home is becoming cruel.’ ‘I know. But running from home problems to the western world is to have a life between the devil and the deep see.’ ‘Really? What do we do then? At least it should be better over there.’ ‘Kennedy, believe me. The western world is facing serious crisis in addition to the fact that a black man needs to get back to build his home. Running to the west now is like a drowning hunter holding a sinking ship.’ Kennedy looked at Okafor with some hatred. But the seriousness on his face seemed to have expressed some veracity...