Securing The Bag (The Lagos Hustle)

The Satchel of Eziza

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KANAKU

I didn't know what was happening. I was lost, intrigued, confused and amused at the same time. I idly wondered if Fuoyo had put me on a wild goose chase of hours of pointless driving  because it was pretty obvious he didn't know the elderly man, they were definitely not friends, and I could tell he was as surprised as I was to hear the incredible tale. I couldn't believe he had the balls to play me like that, a whole Kanaku. However I couldn't think of that now, I couldn't even get angry. Who got angry after hearing of a hidden treasure and millions of dollars in the same statement. Aaargh!!! there was stinking money in this world and I was interested in my slice.

I looked round the room at the documents strewn about and some blurry sketches I couldn't define while our crazy but wealthy host promised his girlfriend marriage and swore to explain everything later. Whoever this man was, he was the kind of person I wouldn't mind calling my boss or referring as "sir." If I'd seen him in the streets, I'll have both hands raised by now and stamp my legs while hailing him "senior man!"

I couldn't even bother to think of how much it could be in naira especially with the way the naira had recently been falling like a new born calf. What was this treasure that was worth such amount even on the black market? Did he expect us to track it? and if he did, did that mean he had some kind of map or a clue to the present location of this so called treasure? And if he did, where was it? I glanced round the suite and sighed, If only I had a clearer picture of what was really going on.

Fuoyo was on the same wavelength with me and he impressed me by saying, "Mr Kenekelis wasn't really clear on all the details or requirements of this particular job, It'll help us work better if we knew everything there was to know about this....treasure"

Senior man blinked in confusion and I began to curse Fuoyo in my mind, thinking he had managed to blow everything apart but then the Mr D fellow nodded, "oh well that makes sense, I know K doesn't talk much and would have avoided all trackers that has worked on this case before..." he glanced at his watch. "I hope this rain stops soon," he muttered absentmindedly before looking at Fuoyo then me. "so what exactly do you know about the Satchel of Eziza?"

We stared back at him blankly and he looked incredulous. "Nothing? Are you kidding me? Okay but you know of Olokun the bronze deity believed to have been carved in the late 1700's?"

Fuoyo and I glanced at each other. it was our first time hearing such

"I don't understand, what kind of historians and archeoloists are you-" He sounded a little suspicious now

"of course we're well familiar with the god called Olokun," Fuoyo retorted and I found myself liking the kid a little. Maybe I had underrated him, he was a sharp tack.

"Okay, well if you're aware of the legend, you'll know that back that in those days, the Oba's palace was home to all the priceless art work in the Kingdom.  I'm talking of bronze and gold sculptures and cultural heritage of the Benin people, passed down Centuries ago, from generation to generation... However in a separate wing in the palace, in it's own separate room stood the biggest stature, all 4 feet of sculptured gold. This was the popular deity; Olokun's statue. Now what most people don't know is that early into the 18th century, a powerful high priest on behalf of the King ordered the the royal carvers to make modifications to the statue. A kind of sling hand made with all the precious gems in the entire kingdom was carved, it resembled a purse but was hung around the neck of the stature, for it had a pendant...you see, which was shaped like a locked padlock but it really represented a bag that was always open, this bag took about 10 years to make and it's alleged that the Chief spent 7 days submerged in the Olokun river with the bag which fit around a grown man's neck like a necklace. This mysterious object was called the infamous satchel of Eziza and was a direct hand purse of the gods, used as a medium to receive cowries from the indigenes whenever they had a request to make to Olokun. The request ranged from the barren given birth to the dead being brought to life..to a fruitful harvest..."

"Hmmm...." I murmured disbelievingly. This was beginning to sound like tales by moonlight. Maybe collecting the money now wouldn't be a bad idea after all. This man was obviously crazy and at least half bread was still better than chin chin

He was still caught up in his impressive story; "now if the cowry was still in the satchel the next morning then that meant Olokun had found the person unworthy and had refused the request and sacrifice but if the satchel was empty the next morning, then whatever it was that the person wanted or desired would come to pass. No matter what it was." He looked at me and I glared back, my frown was returning gradually with every ridiculous word.

"I know it sounds crazy, I used to think it was trash too until I came across some old first hand detailed reports from a colonial British military commander who ended up with the artifact after the attack on the palace in which british forces carted valuable Benin artifcts to Europe. There's no record of the satchel among the loots because during the ensuing fracas, the satchel of Eziza was separated from the statue and it didn't end up on a ship to Britain like the other treasures, instead the commander became obsessed with it and decided to keep it to himself-he became intrigued in the supposed power and believe it was the cause of his good fortune especially when he got promoted to General, he became filthy rich and at a point was in control of a huge region of the South until it was stolen in a raid and he got transferred back to-"

I couldn't pay attention to his story, all I could think of was how I was going to chip in the 23k once more or if I could intimidate the said amount from him. He didn't look to be in total control of his wits and I could sense he was much into his treasure gibberish to recognize any threat I might use. Unless I put my hands on him, and strangely I didn't really want it to come to that. If I was going to beat anybody it would be Fuoyo the cause of everything.

"Now according to his journal,  his quarters was robbed during an assassination attempt on his life by rebels fighting the colonial master and he immediately-" 

The phone rang again and Mr D sighed irritably, "what does this fucking receptionist girl want again, always calling...!"

He grabbed the receiver but the complain died on his lips as he listened with a frown. "I don't understand, they said they're from Kene who?........Are you sure that's what they said?"

I looked at Fuoyo, I knew he was thinking what I was thinking. The girl from the elevator was also thinking the same thing, she had a triumphant smile, as if to say; the jig is up. The real trackers were at the hotel and had just asked to be shown up.

Mr D put down the receiver and observed Fuoyo and I with red eyes. "Trackers from Kenekelis are in the elevator coming up right now, so who the hell are you?"