What a corrupt man wants

“Let the war hear me…I will find him, even if it kills me…”

The very statement that sucked the breath out of my father and left me alone with the corrupt and inhumane practices of this country. See, before Mr. Mafolayomi--my late father--- passed, I occupied a very prestigious position in the country. Being the minister of petroleum, I had a voice that exuded authority and fingers that barely snapped but got the attention of undiluted grace and unmistaken aura. I had it all, from unquestioned power to the curvy ladies at my beck and call. Whispers from the poor lips of the population, dragged my name menacingly on muddy ground, attaching it to titles like “corrupt” and even “heartless”

Let’s just say I embraced the title, because after all, it was just a title. So, Mr. Francis Mafolayomi, the most incompetent man who graced himself with an exaggerated sense of self-importance---as they often said---lived a life better than those who bothered to mock him, interesting.

Well, it was interesting, until one of my curvy female ‘friends’ outsmarted me. Apparently, I was not her only friend. The president always liked to chew more than he could swallow. My days of gathering funds for myself was thrown out the window, the moment Mr. president found out my ‘good deeds’ to society. To a regular individual, I would never admit to doing evil, although that little sting still pierces my heart every time I remember.

As a man that lacked integrity, persuading me to do the wrong things was just a bribe away from cajoling me. His right-hand man always reminded me of how “he owns the seat, i’m only borrowing it”. I truly despised every single second I spent in his office begging God our conversation won’t immediately shift to his next assignment for me.

My father’s head would be shaking side to side In utter disappointment. He was a man that served this country. With every drop of salty tears and thick blood that dripped out of him, he vowed to protect every life in the country even when if felt like he couldn’t. I still blame that young child he went back to save during the 2015 war. For his sake he better be living a better life than my whole generation ever could.

He was my only hope out of the slums. The moment I vowed never to never engage in another corrupt practice, it’s been from one trouble to another. Stones hurled at me the minute my feet leave my uncompleted building with curses accompanying them. I almost craved death.

So, here I am, right I front of the house of the young man who took my father away. From the steel gold gate to the three-story mansion in front of me, the signs of wealth are looking positive.

“oga wedone oo” I say timidly to the intimidating security personnel right in front of me.

With a grunt sent my way, he walks out of the gate fully which eventually gave me a full glimpse of his very intimidating appearance. As if his face wasn’t hard enough, his whole physique screamed ‘one wrong move and you’re going to join your father’

Oh, how the great has fallen, how did I end up here?

I gulped saliva down my throat as it felt like it began to develop a burning sensation and spoke up “please, I’d like to see your boss, please its very urgent”

He stared at me long and hard as I spoke and even continued for a few seconds when I closed my mouth. He kept staring until his eyes flickered with recognition and shouted “Ehen! I said it. When you got here, I knew you looked familiar. Is it not you again? Mr. Francis, son of Mafolayomi himself, the only man that deserved a better life than the population that begged to eat. It’s you na!” the sarcasm slapped me hard in my face.

Ashamed was an understatement. What a time to be alive.

He laughed at me like I had told some hilarious joke and then continued “Why do your clothes look like that? It has gotten that bad, hasn’t it? You can’t expect a nation to suffer for nothing. This is what you deserve. I’m nothing like you so I would get my boss for you na. I’ll get him. Abegg shift back small” and then he slammed the gate in my sweaty face.

Was I that bad?

Not too long after I heard the sound of the gate unlock and eventually open. A young man stepped out with a warm look on his face and bright eyes.

He must have not faced the troubles of this country.

I also noticed a long scar that ran from his eyebrows to his jawlin—

“You are….?” his voice rang through my ears breaking my thoughts.

“Francis. Francis Mafolayomi” I spoke hurriedly but watched his expression slowly morph into one of recognition. The light behind his eyes dimmed instantly. He must have heard about my father’s death. I wonder how well he sleeps at night, constantly reassuring himself that he didn’t snuff the life out of Mr Mafolayomi, the moment he went back to save him.

to be continued…