TRAPPED...Part 25.

"Dan will be coming home tomorrow."

Nkechi's eyes lit up as she opened the door. I entered my living room and sank into a sofa. I put on the standing fan and brought it to face me. The forceful draft of air was exhilarating. She sat on the arm of the sofa, the smell of her cologne a pleasant change from the smell of sweat in the queue at the banking hall.

"They said they will release him tomorrow?" she asked.

"Not exactly. But we have the complete money and I will be taking it to them tomorrow." I turned in time to note the shock on her face.

"You? Why you? Why not his father or any of his sisters?"

I shook my head. "Nne, I don't know. His captor, Shadow, requested I bring it."

She gave a deflated sigh. "Any address yet?"

"No. He usually calls at the last minute to give the location. That bastard!"

In an instant, I felt rage well up in me. "What has this country turned into? Eh? You just wake up and kidnap a young, harworking doctor and now you put his loved ones through untold suffering to raise an outrageous amount of money for your selfishness? This is just pure evil!"

Nkechi put her arm over my shoulder. "Don't worry. You will be fine. Tomorrow it will be all over."

"Where is Victory?" I asked, standing up.

"Oh. She is at Mama Tunde's house playing with the other children. Let me go and get her."

"Okay." I entered the room, exhausted.

The next morning, I kissed Victory goodbye as I made to leave. I had dressed her up earlier and packed her lunchbox.

"Mummy, when are you coming back?" she asked, hugging my legs tightly. It was obvious she had missed me.

"This evening, Sweetheart," I said, fighting back the tears. I lifted her up. Her beautiful eyes gazed into mine. "And Mummy will never go away again."

She nodded, her face breaking into a smile.

"Be a good girl, okay?" I said, tickling her.

The sound of her laughter filled the room.

Nkechi locked up after me as I left, Vicky standing in the stairway, waving. I waved back.

Old Major was on the verandah when I came, clad in his well-worn blue kaftan. He has worn it since his son was kidnapped, eleven days ago. He smiled on seeing me. "Nne, welcome," he said, accompanying me into the living room. Añuli was cleaning the centre table with a cloth. A broom lay by her side. She noted my hesitation and smiled. "You can sit. I just finished sweeping. Nnoo."

"Has he called?" I asked Old Major, as soon as we were seated.

He shook his head and reached for his phone. He dropped it on the centre table. "Chiemeka!," he called out. "Bring the bag. Stella is here." He turned to me. "Bola just left for her office. She said they needed her urgently."

Chiemeka emerged from the room, carrying a blue chequered Ghana-must-go bag. "This bag heavy small o!" she said, setting it down at a corner of the room.

"Do you know why they call it Ghana-must-go bag?" Old Major asked, looking at me. 

I shook my head.

"In January 1983," he began, "President Shagari ordered all immigrants without the right papers to leave the country within a few weeks. At that time, there were over two million illegal immgrants. A million of them were from Ghana."

"Why will he give such an order?" I asked.

Old Major shrugged. "So many reasons were given. We don't know which to believe. Fueled by rumors of possible maltreatment in Lagos after the February deadline, within few days of the announcement, two million people packed what they could into 'Ghana-must-go' bags and thus began a massive exodus towards Seme border."

"That sounds unfair," Añuli said.

Old Major continued. "Well, in 1969, Ghana expelled many immigrants including Nigerians under the Alien's Compliance Order..."

The sound of the ringing phone cut him short. I glanced at the wall clock. 9.00am. 

I noted some tremors on Old Major's hand as he picked the phone. He quickly put it on speaker.

We heard a voice screaming at the background. A familiar male voice came on.

"Mr. Fabian Olisa, do you have my money?"

"Yes, Yes...Sir. The five million. Complete,"Old Major said.

"Good. Stella will bring the money to me on Owode road. It is off the Lagos-Badagry Expressway. She should come alone and stop in front of the high-tension electric poles there. Leave your phone with her. She should be there before two hours."

"Okay. But I need to know...that my son is safe," Old Major said, his voice shaking.

The was a loud hiss at the other end of the line. His next words sounded like a reprimand. "Keep wasting your time."

The line went dead.

"So, we are just going to hand him five million without knowing whether my son is dead or alive?" Old Major said, pacing the room.

"Papa, don't worry. He is alive. Let's just do as he said. We are running out of time."

He shook his head. "Okay. I will drive you up to the Owode road and wait for you and Dan to come back."

He carried the Ghana-must-go back to the car and placed it on the back seat. I entered in front with him.

"We'll take through Mosunmola and emerge at Ojo Road. We will then  join the Expressway."

We drove in silence, my eyes going frequently to my left wrist to check the time. The Volvo's engine roared at every intersection as Old Major switched the gears. I cleaned my sweaty palms on the blue denim I wore, upbraiding myself on how terrible I looked. The jean trousers had been Nkechi's idea. I had donned a satin gown and was finishing my make-up when she entered, staring at me in dismay.

"You can't go out dressed like that," she said, touching the material to demonstrate how light it was. "They can just tear this into pieces."

I have been appalled by her thoughts.

"I am just going to drop money, not to wine and dine with them," I said defensively.

In response, she had gone to my wardrobe and fetched my long abandoned jean trousers. I had won it only once in the previous year, preferring the allure of native fabrics.

I had struggled to fit into it. I felt awkward as I buttoned it.

"It fits you perfectly," Nkechi said, standing behind me in front of the mirror. "All the curves in the right places. Dan will be pleased."

I had pushed her away playfully and found a cashmere black blouse to go with it. It had all seemed like a great idea until now. I silently cursed myself for forgetting the important issue at hand and thinking of vain things like the clothes I was wearing. Who cares? Certainly not Dan nor his captors.

We drove for another hour, often slowing down at the parts of the road undegoing construction. I watched the trees and vegetation on the side of the road, receeding fast as we made progress. A clearing with a small kiosk appeared in the distance. Old Major slowed down to ask for directions.

An unclad male child was rolling in the sand in front of the shop. He eyed us with suspicion as we approached and started crying. A man in a brown danshiki emerged from the kiosk and carried the boy. He smiled at us, exposing his missing front row teeth.

"We are looking for the direction to Owode road," Old Major told him.

"Owode...Owode," he said, setting the boy down on a bench. He nodded in sudden realization. "E no too far again. The next turn by your right. Just dri-i-ive." He pointed into the distance, stretching his last syllable. We thanked him and left.

We made the turn to Owode road and drove some distance. Ahead, we saw the metal frame of the high-tension electric pole. The whole place looked deserted. Not a single person was in sight. Old Major parked beside the road and killed the engine.

"What now?" I asked, trying to mask the fear that has gripped me.

"We wait for his call."

I clasped my palms together trying to calm my nerves. 

After ten minutes of breathing exercises, the phone rang. Old Major handed it to me.

"Hello," I said, closing my eyes.

"Stella." It was Dan's voice.

In an instant I opened my eyes and sat up. "Dan! Are you alright?"

"Why are you not at the high-tension with my money? Or do you want your boyfriend dead?" It was Shadow.

"Sorry...Please...I am close...I was waiting for your call," I stammered.

"You have five minutes." The line went dead.

I fumbled with the Volvo's handle, pushing it open. I grabbed the bag from the back seat and broke into a run. In a short while, I was at the high-tension, panting. I looked around, there was still no one in sight. On both sides of the road were lush vegetation and few strange short palm trees, different from the ones we had in my village. I heard some rustling in the bush opposite me. Just then, I felt a cold metal behind my neck. I shuddered.

"Turn around slowly and and hand me the bag," a male voice said.

I turned to stare into the barrel of a pistol. He was light-skinned, handsome with a rough beards. I slowly handed over the bag.

"Where is Dan?" I asked, looking around.

In that instant, I felt a jab on my neck and a needle-prick. I swung around, knocking off an object from his hand onto the ground. An empty syringe.

He had a smirk on his face. "Sorry."

I felt my body go numb and my vision getting blurred. I tried to run but my legs gave way under me. I fell into the surrounding darkness.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015. Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.