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The sky is bright and clear with the sun showing all its rays in splendor. On the dusty road that leads to Imope town’s square, dust plumes are raised by two school boys in khaki shorts and stripped shirts. Both drained in sweat from the intense heat of the day yet walk racing eagerly to be home in time for lunch. They were sure it would be the last time they would be walking the dusty road for a long time.

“You do not deserve that first position, Ayuba” Ola said

“And who told you that, eh? I worked hard for what I got “Ayuba replied

Ayuba and Ola have been friends since childhood; both about the same age. Growing up together in Imope town has given them the privilege of sharing the same love for suburban adventure, climbing hills , hiking and hunting bush rats and partridges with catapult. The bound they share is close.

Ola the bigger of the two is a stocky fellow with a calm look, warm, buoyant and lively. Ola has an unusual capacity of enjoying himself and passes his fun loving spirit to those around him especially his friend Ayuba who feels he has a brother in Ola rather than a friend. Ayuba on the other hand is an analytical self-sacrificing perfectionist with a strong emotional nature. This was their last day in school they just finished their final annual prize giving day.

Ayuba had been given the highly contended regional scholarship to study at the prestigious University of Ilori, in far away wara state, a day journey from Imope town. The prospect of leaving home to study in a city with strange culture and new friends excite him but the thoughts of leaving home, his friends and all that is familiar gives him a jolt of fright. Ola’s voice brought him back from his day dream.

“You said what?” Ayuba asked.

“I said you got it because you are the teacher’s best friend.

“I got what?” Ayuba replied, he was still not attentive to Ola’s sayings.

“The first position and the scholarship” Ola replied back almost yelling.

“You know I spent my time reading by candle light at night, so I insist I got what I deserve. You are at liberty to choose your friends too, my friend.” Ayuba replied with a tone of seriousness.

This sent Ola roaring with laughter. It caught Ayuba by surprise because he did not see anything humorous in what he just said.

“You read at night? Ah! Ayuba, how can that be? Said Ola still laughing

“And what is wrong with my reading at night?” Ayuba asked firmly.

“Noting, it is just that you can only read if your parents are dead and not at each other’s throats.” Replied Ola, holding his belly, laughing.

“Ah! Ola that is not fair. How can you say that to me” Ayuba replied rather coldly.

“Oops! I am sorry if I hurt you but you know you parents public fight is no more news in Imope”

“I know but coming from your mouth, makes me feel bad. Haba”

They were few meters from the house while the conversation was on; suddenly Ola held his index finger over his lips

“Sshh, Ayuba, Quiet. Can you hear that?

This sudden change in mood made Ayuba apprehensive but he complied and kept quiet to listen. Just ahead they could see Ayuba’s house and surely noise was coming from the direction of the house. They walked closer to the noisy house in silence.

“You are dead today; you will leave my house today, useless woman “Ayuba’s father Mr Ibrahim was shouting on top of his voice.

“Which yeye house? Is it this one? This decayed, dilapidated thing you call a house? Eh! Go to town and see what your mates are building, foolish man. You have an anthill for a house yet you are there bragging, stupid idiot.”Lashed back  Mrs.Ibrahim.

Ayuba stopped dead in his tracks. He felt too weak to walk on anymore. The whole town knows about his parent constant fighting and it is really embarrassing him. Half of the jobless inhabitant of the town had gathered in front of their house. Some advocating and pleading for peace, some laughing at the display of matured stupidity, the remaining are onlookers who are used to seeing the duo’s disagreement all they did was clap their hand in a funny way suggesting senselessness.

“Ayuba, what will you do now?.” Ola asked rather rhetorically

“Honestly, Ola I do not know”.

“You have to talk to your parent. They can’t go on living like this they are adults for crying out loud.” Ayuba said.

“look Ola I have done all I can do, to no avail, what else am I to do?”

“you will have to try again and again . you keep trying and never give up” Ola replied emphatically.

“you know Ola, sometimes I feel like I should just flee from home and never return”

Now that statement took Ola by surprise for he had always seen Ayuba as strong willed with no iota of weakness, now having him admit weakness was something new and perhaps hurtful. He turned to look at his friend. Ayuba’s eyes were filled with tears and he felt sorry for him. He wished he could do something to permanently take the pains in Ayuba’s life away. The truth however, is he can do nothing but to pray for and motivate his friend to reach for hope besides he had his own pains.

“Haba, Ayuba don’t talk like that, let’s go to your house and see things ourselves”. Ola said

Slowly they walk toward Ayuba’s house. Ayuba tried to remain calm but his emotions gave way and he began to weep.

                                                                       Chapter two

Bang , bang. The loud bang on the door woke him up from his sleep. He had not been sure if it was a knock on the door or a gunshot from the vigilante parading the streets. He sat upright on the sofa he had been sleeping on and tried to regain consciousness from his interrupted sleep. He looked at the wall clock hanging on the wall in front of him. The time was 1:27am. He must have dozed off waiting on his father. The loud knock came again this time he was certain.

“Ayuba, Ayuba, you dullard come and open this goddamn door or I break it down” shouted Mr.Ibrahim.

He rose from the sofa, took few steps toward the door, reached for the bolt and opened the door ajar. The stench of hard undiluted liquor hit his nostrils, his father was drunk, very drunk again. He shook his head and felt sorry for him.

“You fool, how can you sleep so deep, don’t you know I will be coming home tonight? Abi your mother told you I am dead, which is not unusual.”

“I’m sorry father, how was I to know you had not fallen inside a gutter again?”Ayuba said

“Hen, what did you say?” Mr Ibrahim said

“I said I am sorry father, should have know better you will come home late”

“So what if I come late? Cant I come to my house anytime I want?” he replied back rather aggressively

“I am sorry father” soberly Ayuba withdrew from his aggressive father

“like mother, like son. Where is your mother and brother, Hassan? Mr Ibrahim asked.

“Hassan is asleep and mummy is not yet back. I don’t think she will be coming tonight.”

“Hen, hen you mother is not back abi. Kai, this harlot I pray she never comes back to this house, else I will kill her myself” with the threat Mr Ibrahim staggered toward his room.

“Daddy, Ayuba called out to his father, who turned around rather reluctantly.

“What is the problem now, Ayuba, what? He brawled.

“Nothing serious daddy, hum, I just want to show you my report card. I was first overall in the region and I have been offered admission on scholarship to study Geology in the prestigious university of ilori.” Ayuba excitedly rushing to get the admission letter that was a stool near the sofa.

“hummm, that is good for you , as for me I’m tired and I want to sleep” roaring with laughter he staggered and entered his room slamming the door behind him.

Ayuba stood transfixed to the same spot. His father won’t even look at it. He had spent nights and days studying really hard trying to impress his father with his grades and now that he is with a scholarship his father wont as much as glance at it.

His father had not always been like this. He had been a loving father. He remembered his father even brought him a bike for him when he got the first position in his primary 6 examination. The problem started about three years ago when his father was laid off from government work without benefits or gratuity. He had tried to secure another job to no avail. Only the fortunate ones get jobs these day and the ones with the right connections get the good jobs. He knew he could not blame his father, for he took to alcohol out of frustration which was not an excuse. He was angry his father had no faith in his success.

Tears roll down his cheek, he is hurt by his parent nonchalant attitude to his success. His father just bullshited his hard work. His mother left home following the quarrel she had with the father, which was not unusual. He looked down on the mat in this sitting room there lies his brother, Hassan, barely nine years old sleeping soundly ignorant of the emotional turmoil he Is going through. He often thought of what will become of Hassan when he leaves for school. His sprit has been dampened by his home.

“I shall make it, come what may happen” Ayuba found himself rather loudly in tears. This was his life and he was going to make something good out of it. How he is going to do it is unknown to him but he was sure he will do it.

“I shall be successful” Ayuba affirmed again, louder this time.

                                                  Chapter three

The feel of his tongue between her moist thighs was cool beyond words. She could hear his grunt and heightened breath. His fingers griped her breast roughly and twisted the nipples gently sending waves of erotic excitement through her body. She looked down the head whose tongue is causing her so much pleasured discomfort. Their eyes meet at that instance. He, eager to confirm if his flirtatious tongue was giving the guaranteed satisfaction (considering the increased level of moisture) while was she checking out the source of her excitement. But what she saw in his eyes was not what she was expecting. She closed her eye and stretched forward her fingers and gave him a gentle crease on the head. She could feel something vibrating between her thighs, swelling and travelling through her entire body with a speed she could not fathom. She started wriggling her body to meet up with the waves of excitement she was surfing on, drifting her slowly to cloud seven. Her body starts to quake uncontrollably, her moans increased, her appeal for more pleasure intensified. She held his head tighter to her wet virgina with her legs spread wide apart. She never felt this good. Her body seems to be transported to another world in delightful ecstasy with wetness forming rivulets between her thighs. She uttered a load moan and it stopped abruptly.

She looked down to see the man smiling at her. She smiled back, shyly. This is crazy she told herself with her eyes closed she sank back into the bed, relaxed and fulfilled. She let her thoughts drift. She was jolted back to reality when she heard the male voice tell her something. She opened her eyes and was quite surprised to see the man before her in his birthday suit with his penis pointing at her. This, she told herself, was way too big for what she bargained for. The man spoke again

“It is time, Gloria Baby” rolling his tongue to sound and look seductive.

“Time for what?” she replied. Her gaze still fixed on the big rod of feminine submission before her.

“Time to do the real thing girl, time to get jiggy with it” he replied.

She rose and sat sitting on the bed with the tip of her toes touching the marbled floor. She took a scornful look at him and shook her head. She reached for her robe by her bedside chair and covered herself with it, the nipples still seductively erect even under the protection of the silken cloth used.

“Get out”. She said

He looked confused. His eyes twitched and his mouth opened. This gesture gave Gloria a trill and she felt in control once more.

“It seem you don’t know your level, Tayo, I am your boss” Gloria said

“Burh, burh but you called me here to get funky with you, why stop now dear? Tayo replied.

The reply sent her laughing out loud.

“Who is your dear? Uh, You are noting but my own personal toy and driver. You are under my father’s payroll. I called you here to my room because I need you to do something for me and you have done very well, now your service is no longer required. So get out of here that is an order”. Gloria said with a tone of finality and her finger pointing to the door.

Slowly he picked up his clothes, wore them without a word turned his back on her and walked out of the door.

She stood up from the bed walked to the door and locked it firmly behind him. She walked up to her desk in the far corner of the room opened one of the drawers and brought out a well rolled marijuana stick. She lit it and inhaled a large substantial drag of the substance. She looked around her room and could see noting but luxury. Her room is large, large enough to host Jesus and his twelve disciples only if they would have another last supper. From the plastered ceilings to the expensive 24 carat gold plated chandelier. Her home theater system could get her in touch with the world with the click of a button. She took another long drag of the marijuana and could feel the effect taking its toll. She strolled from her desk to stand in front of her 6ft by 4ft mirror. She peeled the silken robe from her body and starred at herself. She smiled, how beautiful can a woman get? With long dark hair reaching her back in its pony tail style, her eyes dazzled like diamonds although red from the effects of the marijuana. Her skin smooth like the palm oil of  ile-ife. Her breast was full and robust with the nipples firm and pointing, in very good proportion to her flat belly and apple shaped bottom supported by lovely hips. Hips like the gazelle of the savannah. Her pubic region is a bit swollen (thanks to Tayo) with hairs forming itself in neat well arranged lines. The region looks like a freshly rain beaten mango every hungry man would love to ravish. Her gaze caught a portrait of herself on the wall opposite her. Her room was filled with such expensive paintings. She dragged the marijuana again starring at the mirror. She is proud of who she is.  The only child of Otunba Balogun. She was knows she is rich for life. She can have anything at anytime she wants it. Yet she longs for something money can’t buy, Love. She had prayer for that day when her true love will come in shining amour to save her from the dungeon she calls home. Her prayers will surely be answered; her mother told her God does not sleep. She prays silently again to God not to let her wait in vain. She will remain the way she is until the prayer is answered. She will remain a virgin.

                                                               Chapter four

At 7:35am a knock came on the door not fully awake she walked sluggishly to the door and opened it for her father’s faithful steward, Adamu. He was expected. A daily routine which had been kept every single day since her mother’s died. Adamu bowed humbly to Gloria. He rose with his head erect and chin up announcing that breakfast was served and her father request her presence at once at the table.

“Thank you Adamu, I will join him soon” Gloria said

“I am sorry but this time it is urgent and you have to follow me immediately” Adamu replied with a tone of urgency in his voice. This reply sent chills down her spine. This obviously is not part of the routine. Urgency was never a part of it.

“Why the hurry, Adamu, I hope noting is wrong you are making me nervous” Gloria said with seriousness written all over her face

“Noting Madame, Otunba just want to see you before he leaves for his trip” Adamu assured her.

She stepped back inside her room walked to the bed side drawer and pulled out a hair brush to brush her hair. She was skeptic about her father’s summons. Had he known about her little rumble in the hay with Tayo, the driver? Or he finally decided to send her to Europe to further her studies and handle her mother business empire over there. The more she asks herself these question the more confused she became. Dropping the hair brush she walked to the mirror to see how she looks, perfect. She smiled at her reflection. With long elegant strides she got to the door opened it looking at Adamu she beckoned on him to tag along and together they walked the long corridor leading to the dining room. The corridor walls were filled with family pictures. Herself, her father and late mother. All featured on lovely images and different pose, reflecting their past lives. As they pass the last phase of the corridor, facing them directly on the door frame leading to the dining room is her mother’s picture framed in gold. There you can see the painting come to life reflecting her glory when she was alive. Olori Moji Balogun, the only surviving daughter of a mega oil tycoon father and a successful textile merchant mother. She shocked everyone when she said she was going to marry a whore house manager, Elele Balogun. She stuck to her gun despite her father’s disapproval to the marriage. She died a controversial death five years after the marriage. She was survived by one daughter, Gloria, a split image of her mother. She knew the story because her grandfather told her. Although she has faint memory of her mother her presence seems to be around her almost all the time.

She passed the door way to enter into the dining hall. A rather large hall, the size of a standard lawn tennis court, where parties are often held. She could see her father at the end of the table, sitting calmly reading papers and sipping a cocktail. Her dad’s drinking habit can be annoying but drinking in the morning meant something was wrong. She saw a young handsome male sitting on his father’s left side starring hard at her. She ignored him, went to her father and gave him a hug and a soft kiss on the check.

“Good morning, dad, how are you today? She said

“fine my dear, just a little fatigued because of my busy schedule these last few days and I still have a transatlantic plane to board in few hours”  Otunba said.

“Dad maybe you should take it slow and make time out for a vacation or a cruise or something like that. You can even jump off a cliff, with a parachute of course.” She said

He ignored the suggestion with a wave of hand and continued reading his paper. Gloria found a seat and settled in, pouring herself a cup of warm milk. She had barely taken a sip before her father held her hands looked into her eyes. She felt cold that instant

“What is it, daddy? you making me scared. Talk to me”   she had the notion that something serious was about to be said. Otunba inhaled deeply and held her hand tighter

“Since the death of your mother, may her soul rest in peace, have I not taken good care of you?” otunba asked.

“Yes you have tried father, why?” Gloria’s face became quizzical because her father had spoken to her like this, once, all her life and that was when she was arrested for drunk driving without a valid license. He had been really unhappy about her behavior; she had dragged the name ‘Balogun’ through the mud. She was grounded and for three straight months she was not allowed to use the phone. Now, he was talking with the same tone of seriousness as he did then. He inhaled heavily and exhaled with force. He allowed like thirty seconds of silence before he spoke again.

“Gloria, do you know this man sitted on this table with us” Otunba said pointing to the young man seated on his left side. The young man had been quiet, facing his bowl of cereal. Gloria looked at the young man again surprised at the turn of things but shook her head confirming her ignorance of his affiliation.

“This young man seated her with me is your brother. Your step-brother, Jude. He just flew in from the states where he had been with his mother. I told him to come home and help in the family business” he said. It took like a minute before the words hit her. She tried to look at her father in the eye but he avoided it by pretending he was sipping his cocktail. She glanced at the mysterious step brother again. He was almost the same age as her, maybe a year or two older but not more, she was sure. She held her mouth opened ajar, speechless. She felt noting but instant hatred for him wishing she could just kill him right away. She manage to mumble a few words out

“How come you never told me anything about a brother until now? How come grand pa never talked about him?” she said.

“I told you, don’t talk to me about your grandfather” he brawled at her.

“Why don’t you like grandpa? Why won’t you let me see him? Who is this stranger and what is he doing here?  Gloria yelled.

“I am sorry my dear daughter, but some things are better said at the right time and this is the right time. So you better get acquainted with reality. And I do not hate your Grandfather; I just don’t want you bothering the old man.” He said

” is he complaining dad?” she said with a voice laden with emotion.

“ok we will talk about this when I am back from new York .” otunba replied not wanting to see her daughters tears. He stood up from his seat drank his cocktail in one large gulp and with a pat on her shoulder, he assured her of his love.

“you should show your brother around the house and keep him company till I am back from my trip. That reminds me, here you got a letter”. He produced a letter that was in between the newspaper he was holding. Collecting the bulky letter from her father, she opened it , written boldly on it was her admission letter. She had been admitted to study Chemistry in the prestigious university of ilori. She smiled as so did her father. Raising her chin she meet eye ball to eye ball with her step brother. She knew they were never going to get along.

                                                                        Chapter five

He had taken the first bus out of Imope Township. The bus departed at about 5:00am bound for Eruku from where he will board another bus going to ilori. Closing his eyes, Ayuba mumbled few words of prayer as the bus began to move, leaving behind him all that that is dear. He had dozed off in the wee hour of the journey. The ray of sunlight through the car window pane woke him from his slumber. He blinked rapidly to adjust his visual consciousness. The morning was now bright and clear. The woman close to him had dozed off too, with saliva tickling down her big lip all the way down her neck. He sat back with a sigh. He dipped his hand into his pant’s left side pocket and brought out a piece of paper with the description of the address he is expected to lodge written boldly on it a supposed relative, he had been told and he is expected to be of good behavior once he is there. His father had given him 1500 naira as pocket money. Putting the piece of paper back into his pocket, he turned his face to look at the scenery outside. Despite the fast motion of the bus he could still the suburban landscape. With carpet of greenery stretching for miles before his eye. His nostril inhaled the sweet smell of incense bearing trees; his eyes caught a hawk flapping its wings mid air in preparation for a fatal swoop on a prey. The horrible stench of fart made him turn around with a squeezed face. The woman seated next to him is awake now. Her foul breath and egg rotten stinking fart made him throw his head back outside the car window. The stench got him irritated and thinking deeper about life, life is so much like a fart. We all have our own foul stench locked up inside, our little secrets and hidden pains. Taboo that drives us into solitude. Others only know the smell when in your moment of weakness it is revealed even though theirs may be worse. Recovering from the trauma of the makeshift gas chamber, ayuba’s, mind drifts back to his brother at home with his alcoholic father. He says a silent prayer for his mother’s return. At least that will rescue his brother from starvation.

He got to ilori after the Muslim jumat prayer ended. Muslim devotee troupe out in their scores from the central market (which is the city motor park area too) forming a busy commercial scene. He fumbled with his luggage trying to grant independence to the piece of paper squeezed in his palms. He hailed a cab down, a green and yellow painted salon car. Giving the driver the paper with the description he was beckoned inside. With his luggage secured in the truck of the car he settled down in the back seat and watched the driver engaged the gear and accelerated. Few turns and curses (to other drivers) the driver stopped in front of a huge black gate after about fifteen minutes of driving trough the city. He stepped out with his luggage and paid the driver his money. He walked to the gate and knocked gently. He was answered initially by a dog who barked incessantly, until he heard someone speak from the other end of the gate. A young female voice

“Who is that? “Shouted the unknown female character

“ It is me, Ayuba Ibrahim, from Imope. I am here to see Dr Akin. I am expected” replied Ayuba, shouting too.

Then silence, even the dogs barking was gone. Metal squeaked and the gate was swung opened by a beautiful girl in her early teen whose smile was breathtaking.

“Professor Akin not Dr. my dad is now a professor” replied the girl pleasantly.

“Oh! Sorry. I do not know. Is he home?” Ayuba asked

“No but come on in, let me help with the bags” she said

Helping him with the light weight bag, she ushered him into a modest bungalow beautified with flowers and a well mowed lawn.

“I am ife Akin, what is your name?” she asked as they walked inside the house.

                                                           Chapter six

Otunba sank deeper into the cushioned leather seat of his new jaguar. A vintage car he just acquired for $135,000. He is living the good life and believe it or not good life does not come cheap. Sacrifices had to be made sometimes with sweat, other times with blood. Feeling tipsy from the cocktail (he had a long island iced tea) he drank for breakfast; he sat deeper into the comfort of the cozy seat. His driver turned around to look at him behind the steering wheel.

“Good morning, oga ,how your night sir?”

“Fine, Sule. How your family? Otunba replied in Pidgin English.

“dem fine sir, except for my wife. She sick small again.” Sule replied

“Sule,sule. How many times your wife dey sick in a month? Otuba said

Otunba is tired of his driver consistent tale about his wife or children (thank God his mother is late) sickness just to extort money from him to drink ‘sepe’ or carry ‘olosho’ (call girls). Ironically he is his friend and confidant and had been with him more than a decade.

“Anyway that is your own problems not mine. Your wife’s health is your responsibility. I want you to take me to the airport I have a flight to catch” Otunba replied in a bossy tone.

“Yes sir”

Sule started the engine and glided out of the archway toward the gate. Otunba smiled, he was feeling contented with the response he was getting from his new car. Everything was smooth and silent except for the tick-tock of sule’s cheap wrist watch. Otunba looks out through the tinted window on his expensive estate, seeing the freshly mowed lawn with flowers blooming in beautiful colours. The interlocking tiles around the central fountain were over grown with algae green which added its own aesthetics to the overall scenery. Everything showed good taste, just the way he likes it. He never dreamt of this wealth in life yet he is now ranked one of the ten richest men in the country. The owner an international oil exploration company operating in the gulf of guinea with production capacity of 43,000 bpd and net profit of 400million. He thought back at his life when he was just a little boy with noting except his good looks and zealous determination to be rich. His mother told him he got his good looks from his father. He never knew who his father was but he heard tales. Tales of his father being a solider that died gallantly in the Nigerian civil war many years ago. He knows it is a lie and that his father is unknown because his mother is a whore.

His mother’s love however, was the only love he grew up to know. Growing in the inner city brothel where he shared the room with his mother. A ‘face me I face you’ house where every occupant was given a room facing another occupant’s room directly. The type of house where conversation is heard behind the wall and every cooking is identified via the aroma. The house where all 18 occupants share two toilet and bathroom. This is the place he grew up to know care and love. Growing up for Otunba was fun filed. From queue at the bathroom door every morning, to the influx of male customer at night. Music was non- stop from about 4:00pm to the wee hours of the morning. During these hours his mother is mostly busy with her customers so he stays in the company of his co-tenants, mostly females. Their cloths were never fully covered, exposing laps navels and most part of their breast. With heavy made up faces they were professionals in the game of seduction, like their geisha counterpart in Japan only cheaper.

Otunba grew up knowing how to seduce. He understood women’s weakness of boredom and loneliness. He knew spending time with a woman is worth more than spending money for them. If you spend enough time you will be duly compensated, in cash or in kind. Begin in the company of these strumpets turned him into a Casanova of some sought. He never felt ashamed to call them aunty or pull at their mini- skirts demanding attention. They spoilt him with goodies, chocolate, biscuits, ice cream and sometimes showers with them naked.

His memories of elementary school were vauge. He however remembered his first time. He remembered being woken up by his mother early to have his bath and eat. His mother dressed him in uniforms he had earlier tried on the previous evening. He was held by hand and led out of the house with a water bottle dangling from his neck. He cried as they walked through oke-odo road where they got an okada (commercial motorcycle) going to st. Joseph primary school. A man who appeared to be in charge of the infant section was at the gate already waiting to receive them as the okada stopped for them to alight. The man had with him other children his age, about five of them. His mother approached the man with him tagging along and they spoke for few moments. She handed him over to the man and she waved good bye and left him behind. He cried, crying at the top of his voice begging to be with his mother instead of the poker faced man. The man led the children to a hall where colored maps, pictures and cartoon character were pasted on the walls. The table and chairs were in neat rows with crayons placed on them. He sat down quietly and settled in his own chair as directed by the poker faced man. He was still whimpering when a girl sat next to him offering him her chocolate. He shook his head expressing his unwillingness to receive gifts but she stretched her hands insisting with her gestures that he must have it. He collected it from her and looked up and said ‘thank you’ shyly. They meet eyeball to eyeball and he felt her tiny hands clean his tears away. Her hands were warm and soft. She made him feel better. Thankfully he had found a new friend and a new reason to come to school daily.

A jolt brought him back from his sub conscious state. These Nigerian roads are terrible with port holes as large as industrial suck away.

“We don reach airport sir” sule announced

Otunba opened the alligator skin brief case beside him and checked his passport and ticket.

“sule, you go follow me inside until I check in, then you go house go drop the car. Is that clear?” otunba instructed

Sule nodded and took a right turn heading straight to the airport lobby