Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle)

Chapter 2

The G Club

FUOYO

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We lived in a boy's-quarter apartment behind our Landlord's huge mansion. Back when I was in Secondary school I always got girls in my school to believe my family owned the huge white house which towered over the high fence but had a fierce dog that roamed the compound so they couldn't come inside. As I walked down the street reminiscing, I realized nothing had really changed since I left for camp a year ago.

The same shops and the same pharmacy still lined up both sides of the street, my barber friend's 'Bassey Cuts' barbing saloon was still blasting music loudly as usual, this time an old Tuface mix. I'll never forget how uncertain I felt walking down my street, rolling my travelling box with one hand and dragging my huge Ghana must Go sack with the other, the question that had been plaguing me since the terrible bus ride still continued to weigh heavy on me. What now? I had to explore my options as slim as they looked, I could get lucky and find a job, it can't be that bad....things will surely brighten up I told myself as I pushed open the gate and entered the compound. I didn't tell anyone I was coming home today and I quickly dropped my baggage (pun intended) at the door and wore a big smile, wore my khaki cap or headdress as they made us call it in camp and marched into the house like a soldier. 10 minutes later there were happy squeals from my mom and siblings as I made mock salutes and told them made up tales about my service year.

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Later that night my mom called me to the parlour. I already knew what she would say next, I knew her too well and anytime she was worried about something her eyes betrayed her easily.
"fuoyo so what's your next step?" She asked after I had taken a seat I had my reply ready;

"mum I'm just waiting expectantly for good news, I attended a lot of interviews and sent my cv's to some good companies before I came home. By God's grace I'll hear feedback"

"Amen"

I saw she didn't still look convinced and a long talk about my chances of securing a good job was incoming so I quickly added, "Also there's this close friend of mine, his uncle is the head of HR in a....errm....firm and he promised to talk to his uncle on my behalf, I'll call him tomorrow to find out."

"Oluwa ma se' loruko Jesu" (God will do it in Jesus name)"Amin ma"

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The next day I spent a couple of minutes debating on what to say to my friend on the phone. Yes there really was a friend but no, there was no uncle and there was no firm and definitely no HR department. My friend's name was Tobey but everyone called him Shaq cause he was similar to the ex Lakers basketballer in body build. He was at least 6'4 and anything but lanky. The funny thing about our friendship was we both went to the same school but never really knew ourselves cause we rolled with entirely different cliques. He played basketball while I played football, He was in business while I was in science department, we shook hands and bumped shoulders whenever we met at the cafeteria or school hall but that was about it. Then a year ago we both got posted to Kogi state and ended up in the same platoon and the same hostel and overnight we became best of friends. We spent lights out lying on our bunk beds in camp, reminiscing about our school days and mutual friends and wondering how come we were never close back then. Shaq was very generous and I never had to eat the poorly cooked camp food cause thankfully he was there to foot my maami market meals.

It became pretty obvious he'd come to camp loaded with cash but it wasn't till the third and final week of camp I found out Shaq was a yahoo boy, well to be fair he hated the word; 'yahoo' according to him every Tom Dick and Harry was a yahoo boy nowadays. He seemed to prefer the term G boy. We were chilling at our usual hangout in the maami market when the beagle sounded instructing us to go collect our bicycle allowance. The corpers around us had enthusiastically skipped off to the collection points and I was also excited but Shaq had other plans. "just imagine, see how people are rushing to go and queue under this hot sun all because of how much?" He said disgustedly and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, having come within a second of joining them.

"I now remember why we didn't talk for four years, you're snobbish" I accused

"call it whatever you want but i'm right, most of these people will use the money to sort their outstanding debts in maami market, and drink the rest away then they start begging around urgently for 2k until allawee start to enter. allawee wey no fit buy my nike slides" he snickered

"ehen? but guy come first on a serious note, which work you dey do?" I was a little more than curious.

He laughed long and hard, "yeye guy, so all of a sudden you want to know ba? because i've pricked your conscience. Abeg go and collect your allowance o, I no hold you"

I pestered him some more until he finally opened up to me. "Guy if you're really interested in my work, throw your android phone away and get an iphone, then come and learn work"

"but which work? you won't even tell me what it is"

"have you heard of dating?" he watched me closely

I nodded, "you mean yahoo?"

He took offence to that. "Did you hear anything like yahoo from my mouth? when you're serious do what I asked you then hit me up. If you get ororo for head atleast within 6 months of dedicated hustle with me money suppose touch your hand"

I laughed and changed the topic after a while. "oya big shark like you....you go do me sharwarma and declare beer for my head tonight abeg"

He just smiled and after a while I stood up and joined the reduced queue for my 19,500. Camp had been fun. Everyday Shaq and I shut down maami market, and Shaq spent a fortune. Every night was a party, the soldiers would drink and switch from their daytime crazy strict to more jovial characters, the girls loved us and were always around us and guys hailed us. It was easy to enjoy it all and forget or ignore the fact that my pal was a G boy.

Then camp was over and the real work started, Shaq and I were surprisingly also posted to the same local government but Shaq ghosted, he cut a deal with the L.I and even had his certificate mailed to him so he returned to Lagos and never had to step foot in the community we had been posted.Over time I immersed myself in my activities, determined to enjoy my service year to the fullest, and I sure did and it was easy to forget my little discussion with Shaq and I held on tight to my android phone, it was a samsung afterall. 11 months later I was sitting on a bench in my compound, back in Lagos and facing a little moral dilemma before I embarked on the point of no return. I dialed his number thinking I'll finally have to have that phone swap we talked about.

The conversation was unexpectedly short; "Hahahahahahahahaha so allawee don finish, owu don blow you now you wan hustle?" He laughed once I made my intentions known

"guy I dey serious, I don buy iphone 7 already, make I come your side?"

"no not yet...do these 3 things first let me know you're really serious, first scout online for the profile of a handsome middleged white gentleman, get as many pictures as you can get, then get a vpn login....you know what? I no fit shout I go text you the details for whatsapp."

"okay, thanks man"

"welcome to the club ma G"