"Wash it well o, you hear?", the man reiterated.
"Yes Oga," Solo nodded yet again.
"I'm stepping out of town for now. Tomorrow, I'll come and collect it."
"No problem, sir. Your uniform go be like new one when you come back."
"Good. This is the money. Correct, abi?"
"Yes sir."
"Okay. Till tomorrow."
The police officer took his leave, leaving Solo to continue with his drycleaning duties. It was early afternoon and the sun was still blazing hot. Solo thought a bottle of cold water should be in order. He poured himself a glass from his tiny fridge and leaned back to enjoy the cooling effect of the water. Power supply was constant nowadays probably due to upcoming elections.
"Nigeria sef," he hissed and shook his head as he thought of the relationship between the power supply and the election.
His eye suddenly caught on the police uniform the officer had just dropped. Well, it would be in his possession until tomorrow, right? Why not have a little fun with it?
Solo had put a lot of effort into washing and ironing the uniform. He would be satisfied if this was the only work he would do for the rest of the day. Just as he was putting finishing touches to the ironing, power went out.
"Ohh NEPA sef," he grumbled. "Na wa for this country o. Anyway, I don finish sef."
He held up the clothes for inspection. Yes, he had done a good job. A very good one. Now, it was time to show them! Hurriedly pulling off his old work singlet, John rushed into his bathroom at the backyard. The place doubled as his living quarters and workplace. He whistled and sang and even danced as he sponged himself. This was going to be a merry evening. He just couldn't wait to fully utilize it and utilize it he surely will.
Dressed in the bright and well-ironed police sergeant's uniform, Solo looked himself in the mirror and thought he was born for this. With raised shoulders and puffed chest, he swaggered out of his apartment and went in search of an okada (commercial motorcycle). He soon found one and directed the rider to drop him off at his regular 'palmi' joint. The journey didn't take long, ten minutes at most. When he arrived at his destination, his head was filled with different scenarios that would most likely play out when he would finally reveal his new identity to his friends. He stepped down from the okada and swaggered toward the joint.
"Oga, you never give me money," the okada rider called to him.
"Eh? Wetin you talk?", Solo whirled around and walked back to the rider.
"I mean money."
"Which money? You no see say I be staff? Look am, wetin dem write for here? Sheybi you see say na Nigeria Police. Now get out!"
"But oga..."
"Eh you still dey talk! So you wan make I call my boys for SARS make dem come bundle you and your stolen okada? In fact, where the particulars for this okada?"
"Sorry sir," the rider apologized, starting his motorcycle in record time and driving away with a speed he never thought he could make.
"Nonsense," Solo fumed as he walked on to the palmi joint. "All these bloody civilians go just dey talk to officers anyhow like say we be their mate. Do you know what it takes to go to peacekeeping in Camerone? Arrant nonsense!"
"Solo Solostic!", his friends cheered as he walked into the joint run by Mama Kola and her husband, Papa Kola. "Who you follow dey quarrel na?"
"Hey hey hey stop that!", Solo silenced them. "Don't you see I'm in uniform. Arrant nonsense! What disrespect! You cannot even respect the officer of the law of your country. You sit down there calling me Solo. Bloody civilians!"
"Ah Solo, when you com become officer?", Dayo, one of his friends asked.
"My friend, shut up there! Do I look like your mate? Do you think I'm your fellow bloody civilian?"
"Ah! Which kind...", Dayo was saying when other friends cut him off.
"Dayo stop, e don do. You know say na officer, you no fit talk to am anyhow like that."
Dayo simply shrugged and resumed sipping his palm wine. Solo on the other hand was eyeing everyone angrily.
"So a honorable staff sergeant of the Nigeria Police enter this bar and you people cannot even provide a seat for him?"
"Come sidan, come sidan for here," one of them made way for him.
"No disturb me for here o," grumbled the person the unseated man was trying to share a seat with.
"Abeg take am easy. Just dress small."
"Dress ko. Shoe ni."
"Mama Kola!", Solo shouted at the top of his voice.
A fat woman with an obscenely large backside came running toward the joint.
"Ah Solo, you dey here?"
"Eh? What did you say?"
"I dey ask whether you dey here. Which kind oyibo you com dey speak now?"
"Look Madam, as you can see, I'm in uniform. You see this rank? Three V. This is a staff sergeant. So don't call me Solo. I am Staff Sergeant Solo."
"Okay o, Oga staff sagant. Make I bring palmi?"
"Full jug and enough cup for all my guys."
His friends were delighted to hear this. They hailed and cheered loudly.
"Officer Officer! Nothing do you! You gallant finish!"
"Very good, very good," Solo waved, a proud smile on his face.
*****
Jacob was frustrated, perhaps a little angry. For Christ sakes, why did his boss choose this evening to
send him on such an errand? He had more important things to do, you know. But who was he to disobey? He felt like crushing the phone with his heel, but ended up putting it into his pocket. Not that he could afford another one right now. He sighted a shop ahead. Well, he would find out if they had non-sugary sweets for him to keep his breath in good condition before going on that crazy errand. He hurried over to the shop and looked around for the seller.
"Who dey here o?"
"Ah Oga, wetin you wan buy?", answered a fat woman who wasn't having it easy getting to her feet.
"Just give me some sweets. Abeg the one wey no get sugar."
"Okay. I dey come. E be like say sweet don finish for outside here, make I go inside go bring am for you."
"Okay Madam. I dey in a hurry abeg."
She rushed in, her large bottom trailing behind. He shook his head as he watched her leave. He wondered how some women could bear to allow themselves grow into what he called 'soaked bread'. Even his wife was adding far more weight than was necessary - so much food and little or no work.
The noise coming from behind him could not be ignored. There were constant shouts, cheers and laughter. He wondered if a party was going on there. He looked behind him and could see about five or six men, seated round a bench on which drinks were lined. Oh drunkards, he thought dismissively. He was about to turn his face away when his eye caught on something. Wait.. was that not a policeman? Or was it a security man? No! That was a police uniform! A sergeant at that, drinking with these local ruffians? Oh Christ, he felt ashamed to be a policeman. Thank God he was in mufti. He hated the fact that some of his colleagues mingled with such people. Even if they wanted or needed to, why do it in uniform and in public! Oh, the sergeant was even calling to him. Perhaps he knew him. Maybe they'd served together before.
*****
Solo leaned back comfortably on the seat he was given. He had taken about six cupfuls of palmwine and had spent some time telling his friends about his many adventures in the jungles of
Congo and other places around the world as a decorated officer of the Nigeria Police Force. His tongue was loose, he was in a talking mood and he would say anything.
"Palmi don finish for jug o," one of his friends notified.
"Ehen," Solo belched. "Make Mama Kola bring another jug come. Mama Kola! Mama Kola!"
There was no answer from the woman, but when he looked toward the house, he saw a man just standing outside. He looked impatient, but that was not Solo's concern. He called to the man.
"Hey, come here! Come collect this jug go give Mama Kola make she fill am."
The man seemed to hesitate a little. Perhaps he was not sure if he was the one being called or maybe he didn't hear the call properly, but 'Staff Sergeant Solo' was not going to tolerate such disrespect.
"My friend I dey call you!", he shouted angrily.
His friends quickly joined in. "Hey Mr. Man. You no dey hear when the officer dey call you? Abi you no like yourself? You no see say na police officer?"
"Leave aam," Solo said. "E be like say him wan sleep cell this night."
The man was now walking toward the joint. Solo belched again and his friends cheered him just like they had been cheering his every action all evening. He nodded his approval at them and looked up at the approaching man. He motioned to the empty jug with his hand, but the hand froze and his mouth fell open. It was the same man that had given him his uniform to dry-clean!
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