Episode III
I couldn’t explain if it was the environment that was getting to him or
probably because he changed his attire to something nice or probably because of
the presence of a lady in close contact with him, I smiled at myself again and
asked him if he wanted a body spray (hoping no offence), I brought out my
emergency body spray and gave it to him, I watched him thinking he was going to
spray it on where people were eating, I wasn’t planning to stop him anyways, to
my surprise he got up to use it in the restroom, I told him to keep the spray
as a gift from me and he hid it at his back on his seat, I was hoping I had
been able to get him more relax, I asked him for his order and got up to get
the brunch, while waiting for my orders I looked back checking on him many
times to be sure he hadn’t chickened out or something, I took back the food to
the table, he was having a two portion fried-rice and chicken with a carton of juice while I opted
for only salad, I hoped the money I was spending would give me worthwhile
information from this guy, I stylishly watched him eat and like a giant he took
large spoonfulls of rice steadily, I
poured him a full cup of the orange juice I bought and he nodded me a ‘thank
you’, within 2minutes he was done eating.
Note that our conversations were
in Pidgin-English (Although it wasn’t easy for me to speak fluent Pidgin), most of the times he spoke in Yoruba
language and I have transcribed everything to proper English the best that I
can.
I asked him if he was alright and
ready for the interview and he asked me what the interview was exactly about, I
rolled my eyes wondering why he didn’t ask this way before eating the food I
bought, I told him I wanted to know everything about his existence on the
streets, the bosses in charge of things, his earnings, the fights and area
clashes he had witnessed and the likes, he sat back using a toothpick
unconsciously and looked at me shaking his head, I asked what was wrong and he
said he wasn’t sure I wanted to hear about what really goes on his side of the
streets, he said that it would had been easier if I was some white kid coming
in from another country to ask him questions because the white kid wouldn’t
really grasp the truth in his words but merely read entertainment, he had a knack
that he might say something he wasn’t supposed to say because he had seen so
many things he’s been wise enough not to talk about, he even asked how-come he
was the one I selected out of other
people and maybe someone pointed him out to me to get him in trouble, I told
him I only selected him because he was the one that looked the most
approachable to me. This made an impression on him and he smiled genuinely for
the first time, he went on to say that folks like us deserve to be where we are
and remain there, the streets was meant for people born on it not people
claiming to have been born on it, because if you were born on the streets you
would have more protection from the big brothers, I told him I didn’t
understand what he had just said and he said he needed to use the restroom
again, I said alright and sat back patiently. I knew that he would take his
time at the men’s to make up his mind, if there were things he was afraid to
talk about then I guess I’ve got myself a good catch, I don’t know how I do it
but I have a way of making people open up to me, they tell me things they
wouldn’t tell another but if he came out of the restroom and walked out of the
fast-food’s door then I’d have to go home angry and two thousand naira short, I
prayed he wouldn’t change his mind by chanting this in my mind over and over
again. Few minutes later he finally came out of the restroom and sat down
staring at me, I mentioned that he was due to explain what he said earlier
before leaving for the restroom and he told me not to bother, he asked if I
would be paying him for whatever he says and I said that I would buy him
another lunch and give him four thousand naira for the satisfactory response to
my questions to him, he giggled and shook his head and I thought I was offering
him too much but he said nothing, I asked one more time if he was ready for us
to begin and he nodded that he was, I held my pen to my note pad, then decided
to use my phone for voice record, I turned the voice-record application on and
I placed the mobile phone on the table, I explained that it was easier to use a
voice recorder so that the interview could be ended quickly, I also told him he
would have to introduce himself with whatever name he chose to use preferably
he used names that were not real names to avoid the trouble he feared and told
him to introduce himself to me.
“Hello my fellow sister, my name is Rasheed Ademolu Abidemi Ayoola from
Lagos state, my mother hales from Ogun state, I am going to be 31 by March this
year…..as you can see I am not so slim nor too fat, I’m just like every normal
guy you see roaming the streets of Lagos, I’m not an armed-robber oh, I don’t
steal, I have my own job which is tax collection at the motor parks, I also
assist commercial bus drivers sometimes when they don’t have a conductor of
their own and people refer to people like us as an ‘Agbero’, I have a cousin
who drives a commercial bus and he’s popularly called “Papa”, a lot of my colleagues
know him, he’s a very nice person though sometimes he could be very stubborn, I
don’t have a girlfriend for now, I only went to primary school and I have been
on the streets since then, I was born in Lagos and my mother left me with my
father and returned to her village in Ijebu-Ogun state” he said and paused as
he ran out of what to say, I nodded and proceeded to ask him all the questions I
had had in my mind for a long time………to be continued.
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