A man built a big, fine house deep in the belly of Ikorodu.
He works six days a week at a top Multi-National on the Island.
Not too long ago, on his way to work…he died at the back seat of his Chauffer driven Jeep.
The Staff, Departmental Heads, Administrative Executives plus Oga Boss himself (Oyibo man) packed themselves in a sharp Coaster bus.
Their destination?
They set off…from the Island.
For every lull, hold-up or major intersection reached, Oga Boss go ask ‘are we close yet?’
Driver go answer ‘at all Sir’
Hmmm
‘We close yet?’
‘At all Sir’
On and on and on it went.
The tension in the bus was palpable…Oga Boss wasn’t feeling this shit.
Then it happened.
Looking around and livid with pent up rage, he erupted in vocal menace ‘What the fuck is happening here?’.
Everybody throwey face…who fit answer dat kain question? Unless you don tire for work.
‘Y’all mean to tell me Late Mr XYZ does this journey everyday?’.
‘This distance is krazy…little wonder he died the way he did…whaaaaat?!’
All dis time wey him take dey voltage, dem don reach Ikorodu garage.
‘We close yet?’ he asked the visibly flustered Driver again.
Shaking and nodding his head simultaneously like a confused toddler the poor Driver stuttered ‘almost Sir…this is Ikorodu garage Sir, we will soon get to the place’.
‘In how many minutes?’
‘Fifteen minutes Sir…I think’
‘He thinks’ Oga Boss echoed cynically.
Turning to face his people, his face calm, eyes as ice he dropped the edict.
‘We pay you good money to reside on the Island…now, for those of you who live outside the Island, you have seven days to get accommodations on the Island…or you hand in your resignation letters’.
They got to the late man’s big, fine house.
A quiet ceremony it was…but na the Multi-Nationals quiet pass.
