FANNING THE FLAME (1)

By Olumide T. Agunbiade

I was busy checking my mail on my laptop at about 10am on that day when he entered my office on the sixth floor of a 10-storey building at Ikeja and settled his bulk on a couch beside me.

He looked every inch a comfortable man. He was around 65 years old and had a belly on him that could have been mistaken in the dark for a pregnancy. He was tall, dark, shy and handsome, he wore a buba, sokoto, a white cap and a white pair of shoes that shone even in the office.

Once he had settled himself, taken a quick look around, he turned his attention to me. I turned off my radio set as he said: “Hello! I’m Akande Raymond.’’

I was aware that his small dark eyes were staring at my clean shirt and pair of trousers that had cost five thousand naira three months ago. His small dark eyes also took in my wristwatch and the cash beside my laptop.

                              “You are welcome Sir!’’ I replied.

 He puffed out his fat cheeks, took off his cap, wiped his forehead, put on the cap, and then said in a mild voice: “I need a 2-bedroom flat of 200,000 per annum that I can pay for right away!”

I was beginning to wonder if this man was from another planet or maybe he just arrived in Lagos. I was in no mood for jokes and looking at this man closely, I was sure he was not joking at all.

                             “Which area do you prefer Sir?” I asked.

                              “I prefer Ikeja here,” he replied.

                            “The ones available are between N500, 000 and N2million per annum Sir! I replied quietly.

                            “Are you serious? He asked.

                             “Yes Sir.”

                              “How much is a 3-bedroom flat then?” he asked.

                              “Between N800, 000 and N4 million per annum.”

I was wondering why he was asking me such questions, but the shock in his small dark eyes was genuine. He was staring at me and when I looked away, he bowed down his head and shook it quietly. He soon raised it again, puffed out his fat cheeks, took off his cap, wiped his forehead again and then put on his cap.

In a very quiet but sad voice he said: “How much is a plot of land at Akoka?”

                            “Between N10million and 15million if it is not along any of the major roads in Akoka,” I replied.

He suddenly froze and stared at my lips as if they were on fire. He kept staring at me and at every article in my office while shaking his head vigorously before bowing them again. He was breathing very fast and sweating even though the air conditioner was on.

He opened his mouth quietly and said: “I should have been a landlord by now had I bought the land I was offered many years ago.”

There was a sudden silence. I looked at his face and I saw tears dropping from his eyes as he gently wiped it off with his white handkerchief.

                        “They have sold the house where I was paying N120, 000 per annum,” he lamented.

I felt sorry for him and was shaking my head slowly as I listened to his sad tales. During our conversation, the door of my office opened quietly and a beautiful young lady walked in!