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Scapegoat



Scapegoat

I had only just returned from my lunch break when I heard the commotion before I saw it.

A pretty young lady was arguing with a man right opposite my office gate.

You see, I work in a multinational company. We owned practically most of the land and buildings in the area and beyond. We had different structures, housing different departments.

The gate opposite my office was called OFTC, (Office of the chairman)
Mine was OFTA, (Office of the Head of Administrator).

These offices were very well guarded by mobile policemen, and when the chairman was around, strong military force.

Yet they did nothing to intervene in the fracas ensuing between the young sophisticated looking lady and a man I perceived to be a driver, in fact, they were amused and were pleased the driver was embarrassing the girl.

I think they actually enjoyed the show.
She was the symbol of all the young pretty ladies that rejected and turned them down, so they watched with glee and some even shouted that she should pay and even called her derogatory names.

"Don't touch me you filth, get your stinking hands off me," she screamed and shoved his hands out of her cloth.

"See this girl o, the driver spat. I go slap you o, no think say you fit disrespect me, pay me my money complete or you no go enter. He stubbornly promised her.

Irritated and annoyed at the scene unfolding before me, I stepped in...I was your everyday Mr Romantic and a perfect gentleman. I saw a damsel in distress and basic instincts kicked in naturally.

"What's going on here, oga please calm down, what's the problem?" I asked.

"Ask the fool," she said red-faced

"See this asewo o," he said

"Your mother is the asewo, dustbin creature'' she ranted.

" Enough please, no name calling. Let's be civilized and stop drawing unnecessary attention. " I tried to calm them down.

"If she no pay me my complete money, I go paint attention for here, no be only to draw am." The driver said

"I will not pay you more than what we decided and that's final. Do your worst." She replied.

"How much is left?" I asked

"700 naira," the driver said.

"Take, keep the change" I handed him 1000 Naira note.

"Oga thank you, sir, better person. You don save this olosho." He smiled and folded the money inside his pocket.

"Be respectful my friend, don't call a woman that, I let it slide the first time but don't repeat that again, oya start going you have been paid," I said with anger.

"Thank you," she said quietly. I could see the shame on her face and demeanor as the driver drove off, leaving her alone with the security men, all gathered to watch the activity, thank God it wasn't that big a deal as to warrant people bringing out their phones to record, and this security men could care less about social media.

"Don't mention, I said. So where are you going to," I asked?

"I'm here to see my aunt, Mrs. Ada, she works in OFTA, I have been trying to call her, if only she had picked, I would have avoided this embarrassment." She said

"Mrs. Ada Basset?" I asked.

"Do you know her?" Excitement and relief flooding her face.

"Yes I do, I work in the same office space with her but for different department. Come with me, I'll take you to her office." I offered.

So we walked in and in a bid to flex my authority and impress the beautiful lady, I told the security. "She's with me," turning to her, I said..."just sign here, in my name dear."

"Thank you so much sir," she said in an angelic voice.

"Please, Ikenna is my name," I said

"I'm Gift, she said.

So we walked upstairs and using my thumbprint, accessed the security door, I showed her to the waiting room while I went to fetch Mrs. Ada. I pointed my office to her.

"Nice office," she nodded and took in the scenery.

"Thank you," I said.

"Do you also have to thumbprint your way out too?" She asked innocently and concerned for me.

I laughed and explained. "No Gift, to come in, you will use your thumbprint to open the door, but leaving is a different ball game, you will have to press this round button here and the door will automatically open." I showed her where to press on the door to exit.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Ikenna." She smiled.

"Please just Ikenna, stop by my office on your way out ok, let me call your aunt for you." I walked away smiling and Happy to be of service to a beautiful lady.

It was 10 to 15 minutes later I heard the screams coming from outside my office, it was so loud and disturbing, we all rushed out and found the office assistant, Nkiru, the young girl who assisted us, crying bitterly on the ground. She was pointing towards the waiting room and shaking like someone who had just seen a ghost.

Immediately I rushed to see what the commotion was all about and lo and behold, Mrs. Ada sat down in a funny way, her head was bent to one side, her eyes and Mouth were wide open in shock, blood was oozing out from her head, it looked round and...wait a minute, it looked like a gunshot wound..My God, Mrs. Ada has been shot!

Soon the whole building was in a state of panic, and after some minutes the security men replayed the CCTV planted everywhere, we saw Mrs. Ada walking confidently in her usual manner to the waiting room after I had informed her of her guest.

Immediately she entered the waiting room, Gift just brought out a gun, motioned for her to sit and whispered something into her ears that made her open her eyes and mouth wide, and right before my very eyes, she shot her in the head and once in the chest.

Everyone turned to look at me, and that was how I was arrested despite pleas and denial.

Mrs. Ada actually had a cousin named Gift, the information we suspect was easily gotten from Facebook as her cousin Gift was fond of commenting on her Facebook posts and asking her for money publicly on her posts too, promising to come to pay a surprise visit and collect money from her favorite aunt.

It seemed the killer had planned this assassination so well, as CCTV outside showed her stepping out and leaving the building as I taught her, by pressing the button and calmly with a smile on her face, strolled downstairs and out the door while the same driver she had only just fought with came around, parked in front of the gate and waited as she strolled right into the car, in front of the security men and drove away, never to be seen again.

Mrs. Ada had been assassinated and I was the scapegoat who escorted the assassin inside.

I was released three days later, thanks largely to my lawyer and my brother who was like a son to the chairman, and also responsible for my job in the organization.

According to the police, the only thing I was guilty of was stupidity, and stupidity in 2019 still wasn't a crime. 

Miraculously I kept my job, reason being I was fucking good at it, then my elder brother's string and connection and also, I was underpaid and still fucking good at my job.

Two months later, at the bus stop where I usually board a bus or taxi to my destination, a car pulled up and it was a face I had dreamed about for months.

"Hello Ikenna, need a ride?" 

It was Gift, the assassin.

I wasn't alone, as the bus stop was always crowded... She motioned for me to come closer after dismissing the people who had rushed thinking it was a taxi or a good Samaritan.

I was rooted to the spot and couldn't move. I was scared to my bones. It was like staring death right in the face. 

She motioned again for me to come closer and I did, even without feeling my legs move. 

"Get in." She commanded softly.

"No, I said. Sounding feminine in my ears. I hated myself that moment, at least if you are gonna die, die bravely. I told myself.
I will shout." I warned.

She smiled darkly.

"I'll kill you and then kill those that wouldn't run after I shoot you, and then I'll drive off. 

She was right.

"This is Nigeria honey, nothing will happen." She said it so calmly, I believed her.

"Come inside IK, no one is gonna save you if indeed I meant to harm you right here, right now."

So, with trepidation, I opened the passenger door and entered.

She drove off immediately as I did the sign of the cross and spoke in tongues quietly, sitting beside the beautiful assassin whom I knew as Gift.

The Gift of death and I was the scapegoat.

Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne
Authorpreneur


www.ofunneceo.blogspot.com

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