know that the question invading the mind of Baisiwaa was “Did he do it?” The degree of his
dilemma has ascended. The question finally came, “Did you …” He didn’t wait for her to finish,
just bumped in out of confusion, tension, and alarm, “Believe me, Baisiwaa, I didn’t do it. I
swear to God, I didn’t. Like…like I told you… I went to his office two days ago, Monday to be
precise…” He voiced his innocence like a stammerer, in a haphazard tone. Baisiwaa realizing the
magnitude of the situation, beckon Cudjoe to come closer for a hug. Afterwards, she whispered
in his ears, “We will work things out, love”.
Within the parameters of the Ministry of Defence was an ultra-modern office, the exterior
bathed with sea-green colours. The interior is highly furnished with complex laboratory
equipments, with the brown-spherical desk carrying significant amount of files and
correspondences. Ben, in professional circles known as Dr. Ben, was pre-occupied behind his
Toshiba laptop. The phone rang. “Dr. Ben speaking, who’s on the line?” The identity of the
caller made him sit straight. It was the Bureau of National Investigation’s boss, Mr. Akpaglo.
“How may I help you, sir?” Mr. Akpaglo continued, “Dr. Ben, your extraordinary prowess in the
scientific environment has come to the notice of the government. In this respect, the
government wants to reward your hardwork and ingenuity. Men of your caliber must live in
mansions, drive executive automobiles, and rule the world by utterances.” To clarify things for
himself, Ben inquired, “What are you driving at, sir?” The BNI boss gave a forced laugh and
responded, “Patriotism is something most Ghanaians are ignorant of or fail to demonstrate.
Our country would have been better –off if the natives commit themselves to the aspirations of
the country. We fail to look at the bigger picture, the broader aspect of things. We prefer bread
crumbs to the delicacy itself. But Dr. Ben, you are different. How I wish Ghana would be full of
people like you.” Ben shook his head. He has mentally concluded that these enormous praises
and compliments are going to come with a request. He is hundred percent sure of that. A BNI
upper hand can’t call him one particular morning to feed him with good tidings, especially
someone he hasn’t seen nor even know personally. He decided to remove the dust on the
issue, “what do you want from me, sir?” Mr. Akpaglo cleared his smoke-infested throat, “Meet
me at 9.00 am in my office tomorrow, have a good day, Dr. Ben.” The line went dead. What
arrogance! Ben was surprised. Why should he turn down the line when I’m seeking clarity?
Probably, he wasn’t serious or sure about what he was telling me. Or maybe he was looking for
another Dr. Ben, and upon realizing his mistake, he had cut the line. But he should have at least
politely notified me of this before dropping the line. Well, the bottom line is he’s dropped the
line so case closed. After these conjectures, Ben put his mind off this thirteen minute
conversation and got back to what he was working on.
Armah increased the volume of his ghetto blaster. Excitingly dancing to the tunes of one of Kojo
Antwi’s tracks. To him, this is a convenient medium to displace his earlier disappointment
about his exam. He opened his portable refrigerator, brought out a Budweiser, and quenched
his thirst. He gulped more of it to experience the effects. He wants a solace. The fact that he
has failed again in his exam echoed in his brain. It was like persisting hard knocks on a door. He
brought out more alcoholic drinks of different assortments. Then instantly, he rushed for his
suitcase, brought out his results slip, tore it apart and down into the dust bin. At least he has
destroyed the source of his pain. But not entirely. He saw this old man with a walking stick
approaching him. “Don’t you dare come closer to me, old puppet. I would prove all of you
wrong one day. I’m not a failure.” The old man stopped. Armah kept on talking to him. But it
wasn’t an old man. It was somebody coming to request for his service. Someone who would
reveal to Armah his proficiency, something he has been overlooking. Armah is on the verge of
teaming up with someone wanted by the police. But how is Armah, a failing student going to be
useful in the fight against injustice?
No comments:
Post a Comment