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The Mechanics Of Yenagoa (IX)
Post Series: Mechanics of Yenagoa

“Ebinimi, I dey tell you, this guy get political ambition,” my sister Ebiakpo said in a matter-of-fact way after I told her about the outcome of my second meeting with Honourable Aaron in his office just this morning. It was the first time I’d be seeing her after her showdown with Blessing following the Anda and Benson disappearing act.

“So, someone cannot do good in this Bayelsa again without people thinking there’s a political undertone or that he has a political ambition, abi?” I asked her. It was also the first time she’d be hearing about the N500k appreciation money I got from Barnabas-Treatment that night at Ox-Bow Lake. So I guess, that plus this latest offer he made to me was all too much for her to take in.

“What do you expect me to think? 14 cars, who buys 14 cars in one day with the intention of giving them all out as gifts, if not someone with serious political ambition?”

“When you put it like that, people would think these cars are all tear-rubber. No, they are not. That is why he wants me to go to Lagos to check them out before he pays for them. By the way, out of the 16 vehicles, he told me that 2 are for his personal use; one is for his pastor; 8 are for the 8 local government chairmen in the state, while the rest are buses he wants to put on the road under his ABT Foundation’s Mass Transit Scheme.”

“And you say this man doesn’t want to be governor or senator? Ebinimi I dey tell you, this so-called Honourable no pure. Don’t put your hand in his matter. What if the cars are stolen or something or they are being purchased with stolen government money?” Ebiakpo asked. “Please let us know the one that is worrying us oh, before you go and involve yourself in EFCC wahala.”

I didn’t know what to make of my sister’s advice. As it stood, she was the only woman in my life, and so as far as feminine intuition I could count on went, I didn’t have too many options. As much as I was happy that I got paid when I was clearly in the wrong, somewhere at the back of my mind I also knew that N500k might just be too much for the favour he thought I did him. After all, it wasn’t as if I apprehended or killed the guys sent to get him or something, I merely laid on the floor and got the scare of my life.

But, I am a Yenagoa boy when sabi road, so I won’t sit and complain about getting money I didn’t deserve; I will pocket it sharperly! However, that shouldn’t stop me from treading cautiously with all these politicians wen dey like to use person head. With his power, position and wealth, wouldn’t he know someone else he could have sent to Lagos to check out the vehicles he wanted to buy? Why did it have to be me? Was there a trap somewhere and I’m not seeing it because he says if I can certify the cars as fit and organise drivers to help bring all 14 of them to a secret location in Yenagoa his men would show me, I’d get another N500k?

The more my sister spoke, the more I became convinced that this Lagos and bringing cars to Yenagoa business wasn’t exactly my hustle. I decided there and then to send a text message to Barnabas-Treatment’s PA, informing him that I had declined his oga’s offer.

I left Ebiakpo in the parlour to get back to the Toyota Avensis I was fixing before she sent for me. It had been in a bad accident that affected mostly its rear; so much of the repairs required were on the body of the vehicle and not necessarily mechanical, but I still needed to supervise the panel beater and spray painter I had brought in to do the job. Biodun and BRD were in one corner of the workshop slugging it out with the engine of a rickety Primera while Saka was all by himself, doing battle with the shaft of a white Honda Accord.

We were all lost in the silence of our individual thoughts until Saka, the resident entertainer in Ovom, broke into a song. This time, I could have sworn it was an Indian or Chinese song, but the melody was unmistakably from a song I had heard before and his repeated refrain of two familiar words convinced me he was singing a Wizkid song.

I chew I chew Isiewu, gbaragbara winchi winchi, ale ale Iseiwu, gbaragbara manya manya – ”

“Saka! Saka! I have told you, that the way you destroy other people’s song like this, if somebody else destroy the fruit of your labour like that, you won’t like it oh!”

“Oga Ebinimi, him no dey destroy the song na, na remix him dey remix am for Wizkid,” Biodun said with a straight face, it was hard to tell if he was joking or serious in his defence of Saka.

“So Wizkid wan remix song him no see Drake again abi, na Saka done be DJ Spinall now?”

“I don tell am tire say nothing like gbaragbara for the song, him no wan gree. Me na ‘daewoo daewoo’ I dey hear oh.”

“No be only Daewoo, na Julius Berger,” I mocked Broderick. “See, the next time Lishman of Rhythm 94.7 FM plays that song again on radio, please you guys should clean your ears and listen well well otherwise I go ban singing completely for this my shop,” I warned.

Saka ignored my warning and the taunting of his friends—as well as the few customers in the workshop whose laughter had sent almost rolling on the dirt floor and clutching their stomachs in uncontrollable hilarity—and continued with his comical bastardisation of a song I loved so much. I’m sure he would have gone on with his performance for a little longer, but we were all spared the torture when she walked in.

She was dark skinned and tall, like six feet tall with an upper body built like a boulder. At first glance you’d have thought she was a guy, a very strong guy, the kind of guy that worked as a bouncer in a nightclub or with a politician, but no bouncer I know in Yenagoa would wear a short black dress and long lashes with pretty much nothing else. When she moved, it was as if the grounds shook and her voice was like a roar that stopped us all in our tracks. She didn’t have to ask for our attention, but she got it anyway.

“Who be Ebinimi? I say which of una be Ebinimi?”

No one would speak, so I pretended my heart wasn’t pounding and just blurted out the truth before the other guys pointed at me. “Na me be Ebinimi, who you be and wetin you want?”

“My name na Oyintari, but for this town dem dey call me Jigger or Sucking-Blood. You can choose any one you like because they both mean the same thing. As to your second question, I don’t want anything. The person wen want something dey inside car outside they wait for you.”

“Who?” I really shouldn’t have asked. I already knew who.

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This Post Has 3 Comments
  1. Ebinimi na idiot, may he tell Aaron straight to him face say him no dey do again bcoz waiting dey sweet dey kill man sharp sharp.

  2. Ebinimi needs to go and wash his head in a river or something. This phase of his life is riddled with too many wahala. Shebi Ebiakpo would know a Woli somewhere. Let them go there in the next episode.

    I will like to see more of the twists in the life Saka, BRD and and that last assistant mechanics.

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