📚 OIL MONEY ♨️

⭕ A NIGERIAN STORY ⭕

©️ SHINA SCRIPTS 🔥

💢 #EPISODE 7️⃣ 💢

📜 FARIDA 📜

So far so good, Gombe has been okay. There has been no hassles and the whole event is slowly coming to an end. Today is election and I'm on my jeans and black polo, codedly campaigning for Madam.

"Farida, hi." I know these men want just one thing. They are just jokers.

"Hello, Jude." He smiles to me, revealing his brown teeth. That's the comma on his fine boy levels. Carry your teeth comot from my face, abeg. This is what I scream inwardly but to his face, I smile. Asides doing this for madam, one can never tell when you'll need help from these other brands. So, I just keep a relationship with some of them.

"Hope you're rooting for Madam Yeni?" I ask him.

"Do we have a choice?" He asks, smirking.

"Yes, you actually do." But in my head, I'm screaming you dont! I know I have small weyrey.

"You convincing me aside, she is actually a woman of integrity. The first thing I look out for in a leader." He states.

"Thank you, still." I nod my head in agreement to what he just said because it is true in her regards. Forget the fact that she is my boss; she has integrity which is why I can vouch for her. The election continues for another four hours and at a point, I get so tired.

"There should be a place where we could buy food around here." Mr. Bankole speaks and of course, I ignore him.

"Miss. Lawal. Aren't you hungry?" He asks.

"No, I'm not. Thank you for asking." First of all, I left my purse at the hotel mistakenly. And my card and money are inside. I don't have cash with me. If I admit to being hungry, he will now be insinuating that he is the one feeding me. Abeg!

"Farida." Unbelievable! Why is this one calling me by my first name? Are we friends? Plus, the name sounds foreign coming from his mouth.

"Let's get something light to eat." He insists.

"I don't have cash with me. You can just go. I'm fine." I state. He slaps his hand across his face, a bewildered look on it.

"Don't worry. I'll pay." Did heaven fall to earth or someone wore 3D glasses on his brain? Did they format it, because I am not understanding why he is being not mean to me? I guess this is just out of courtesy because we are not friends.

"I only accept things like this from friends or people I'm familiar with. Before you'll come and start saying you are feeding me." He clicks his tongue before responding, a mischievous look dancing across his face.

"Who said we are friends? Please, definitely not you." I am glad that we are on similar grounds.

"Let me just get this one thing and we can go back to disliking each other." This man is weird.

Together, we walk to one of the stores just across the gate from the convention center. The woman who owns the shop was attending to someone else so we had to wait.

"What are you having?" He asks. My eyes take a survey across the things available for consumption.

"Eggroll, puff puff and Nutri milk can do. Thank you." He just smiles, shaking his head. Whatever is going on in his head, that's his business.

He calls out the order to the woman while we wait for people to attend to us. I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turned back to be met by a face I wish I could erase from my memory.

"Thank heavens. Farida!" I roll my eyes, such sheer display of ignorance.

"Good afternoon. Kindly remind me who you are, please." So, here's the thing. I don't want to create a scene which is why I took this manner of approach.

"Dan Allah, Farida! Don't start this nonsense of denying your sister." You see the nonsense that she is doing right now. To be honest, she did not look like she was doing well for herself. Her dress was tacky, her hair undone, on her back is a baby whose nose has catarrh dripping from it. Eww! She did way better than this before getting married. I watch as anger flashes in her eyes.

"Continue denying us because you think you have made it in life." She shouts, attracting the attention of everyone present and even passersby. Typical drama queen. This is what I was trying to avoid. Mr. Bankole has a confused look on his face.

"Miss. Lawal." He calls out to me.

"nhmm?" I dont know when I do that subconsciously.

"Let's go." He tugs on my arm and we start walking back. I am thankful he accompanied me. Imagine being here alone and exposed to this drama.

"Sorry about that." I offer a quick apology and he immediately shakes his head.

"Do you actually know her?" He asks.

"Truthfully, yes. She is my sister." The word sounds bitter in my mouth but with the drama that was about to unfold, the least I could do is come clean.

"I am from this state." I add.

"Alright." He doesn't bug me for any explanation. He just nods his head, takes my hand in his and gently squeezes it to give me comfort before letting go. The silence that followed after was so loud but I strangely felt at ease.

📜 TOBI 📜

There was no point digging in. It's not like we are friends or something. So, the little I could, I did and we quietly walked back to where we were sat, quickly munching on the snacks and drinks, none of us talking to the other.

The announcement for election results soon come up on the sound system. From the corner of my eyes, I see her offering a silent prayer, head faced heavenward. Honestly, I am glad that she is always there for my mom. Some people refer to her as a Madam Yeni loyalist which is very true.

They start with calling the results for the Treasurer. Finally, 30 minutes later, it is time to announce the result we have all been waiting for but the electoral committee take a short break, to be back in a few minutes. These people really know how to set tension in the minds of people.

I see the stress in mom's eyes. From her manifesto, it is obvious she has the association at heart and is willing to push forward. I just hope these people applied wisdom while voting. One thing about elections is that people give you their support to your face but they are the only ones that can truly attest to who they voted. I pray the numbers are in our favor and we emerge victorious.

"Congratulations, Madam Yeni." One of the big ogas congratulate her.

"The results have not been announced." She speaks.

"We know our choice, don't worry." Mom shrugs before responding to him.

"By God's grace." She replies him.

After 15 minutes, everyone goes back into the hall to hear the main results that we have been anticipating. The results were announced and she won. I am actually happy and proud of her at the same time.

"Congratulations, ma."

"Congrats, Madam Yeni." Congratulatory messages are sent her way. She is called to the podium to deliver her speech and give Vote of Thanks. The Executive committee take the oath of service and are sworn into office. The electoral committee is dissolved as everyone celebrates the excos for the next 2 years.

Later that evening, she was having a meeting with the excos but we were too hungry to wait for her but she said dinner is on her so she just handed her card over to us. This dinner with Miss. Lawal would surely be awkward but its just to eat for a few minutes. The hotel we are lodge at has a restaurant on the 6th floor.

"Hi, welcome. Here is the menu, ma, sir." The waitress says as she hands the booklet over to us.

"See, don't bother stressing yourself. Do you have local delicacies?" Miss. Lawal asks.

"Yes, we do. There is Tuwo, Semo, Fufu, Amala, Pounded yam and Starch." She answers.

"Alright. Do you have Banga soup?" She asks, squeezing her hands in hope.

"Yes, we do." I could hear the silent screams of yes! in her voice but she tries to maintain composure.

"Alright, I'll be having Starch and Banga soup." Maybe I'll also try out local delicacies instead.

"Pounded yam and Egusi soup." After calling out my order, she jots it on the same piece of paper she wrote the previous order and leaves us.

After eating, we retire to our rooms. Tomorrow is our trip back to Lagos. I intend to explore this place tomorrow. Hopefully, Farida would help out.

📝📝📝📝📝


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