A TRIP TO NOWHERE PART 5

The drive took almost forever with many checkpoints. Mumsy was constantly giving Police officers money to avoid their delays. In four hours we were in Ekiti state to appeal to the goddess called Tolani. I managed after two misses to locate the hostel and fortunately for us we saw some other occupants.

We approached a particular ugly structure; the ugliest structure of a woman I ever saw before and after that day. I was pushed to ask her the necessary questions, because I was the person who brought them there. I was relieved when she said she knew Tolani. She asked if everything was fine, and I said yes but inside of me was a tremor I needed to expel. My auntie took on with the talking to explain in a mode of no suspicion. I listened as she asked her that we need to see Tolani. She surprisingly asked again: please is anything the matter, in defense of her friend. ‘No!’ we said, asking just to see her. The gesture changed instantly to a friendly one. She then replied that Tolani had gone for teacher's training and she doesn’t know where she had gone to for the training. But we could get to know if we go to her department or the registrar's office. All students’ data were there. Mumsy gave her five thousand naira for her efforts and thanked her so well and off we were to the registrar’s office.

The queue was long but it wasn’t long before we were allowed to see the registrar. The old non-enterprising man needed to know why we would want to get details of his student, thus he declined. We had to narrate my ordeal to him before acceptance was given; he then called the head of security to take our entire details and a photographer to have our pictures taken. Jumoke wrote the statement on behalf of the family which mumsy signed. At six o clock he brought a big file jacket, and slowly checked for the details, and in a heartbreaking manner told us she is doing her teacher's training at a secondary school in Benue State Government College, Markurdi. What the hell is she looking for there I thought, but that didn’t matter to me at all this moment.

ILORIN HOUSE

We slept in Akure that evening, and proceeded to Markurdi the next day. I prayed all through the night for a fruitful journey, and I knew God would hear my cry this time around. I slept a while during the journey, and the bewildering dream I had, I can never forget. She didn’t accept the apology in my dream, so I strangled her. She disappeared in the act, and reappeared with her legion; an army of gory looking hydra-headed demons. Their sight was so terrifying, that it jolted me out of my sleep almost immediately. In reality we were in Okene, and we had four extra hours to get to our location. I felt like sleeping again, but the thoughts of my subconscious encounter during my previous nap-time, helped me stay sober.

We bought some things to eat at the junction, which I wasn’t really interested in anyway. It was then I realized that there is a level of problem you can attain in life, that hunger would be totally knocked off your to-do list. I looked at Jumoke in all sincerity and thanked her for all she had done. Surprisingly she raised her voice at me; saying if not for my cheating and randy behaviours, we all wouldn’t be here. I felt insulted and wanted to react, but apologies were all I had in my mouth.

It was the sight of Benue state university that revived peace in me again. I knew I was closer to ‘THE’ solution. I started rehearsing in my mind how I would beg her. I thought of prostrating and telling her to step on me if she wanted. I was ready for her to do anything she wanted at this stage, and I meant it. Another thought came to my mind; what if she demands I must date her... or even marry her, what would I do? I discarded those thoughts by mumbling psalm 23 quietly to myself. I had learnt so many bible verses but my predicament just seemed to be more powerful than those passages. The school had closed by the time we got there but the principal was still in school. We explained where we came from and that we needed to see a particular student doing her teacher’s training in the school. The name sounded familiar to the principal as he shook his head. His reaction was disappointing as my mum held on to herself like she was about to receive a bad news. The principal asked if she was her daughter, but she dislodged the question with ‘what is wrong with her?’ She came here applying for a teachers’ training space which we accepted. She even stayed two weeks as the students seemed to love her so well. She then asked for permission to submit her acceptance letter back to her school.

Madam that’s the last we have heard from Tolani.

We continued the investigation. Where was she staying while she was with you?

The principal pointed to a room on a block of flats, and said that was where she stayed. We wanted to check the room but he disapproved of that.

We all decided the best option would be to go to her house. Her parents must be aware of her whereabouts. Next day we were back to Ekiti state again reporting to the school management, what we were told in her supposed place of training.

 The registrar demanded for students contact register from his secretary and out of his kind gesture, he gave us the address of their house in Ilorin, Kwara state. The next day saw us locating Ilorin on the map again, on a trip that seemed fruitless. I knew at this time it was a trip to nowhere. My auntie broke the silence with a condemning statement “hope this girl is not a ghost” and fear overcame me completely. We are now looking for someone who doesn’t exist I guess. At this time I was losing hope but I couldn’t complain.

It wasn’t easy locating the address, because Tanke district in Ilorin is so scattered, but with the help of a bike rider, we got to the house with relative ease. It was a block of four flats, and the first thing we discovered was that one flat was empty. We greeted the occupants, as we told them our plight. In an annoying tone, after sitting down and inviting other housemates; the old woman asked why we were looking for her or her parents. We narrated the story again and she started with advices as if I was her first son. I ended the conversation with my numerous echoes of ‘thank you ma’. She turned to my mum and said we were the third set of people coming this far, this year. Some people came from Kano, and another one from Markudi, but that the problem is they have packed out of her house since 1993. That was eight years ago. With our heads down and all hopes lost, we entered into our car and proceeded in our Trip To Nowhere...