Hard Man

1

General Babalola had to be the most unusual General in the history of the Nigerian Army, Mr. Mohammed thought to himself, subtly eyeing the man seated beside him in the backseat of the Jeep.
As the ADC, he was physically exhausted, and on days like this he wondered why the General wasn't like the other high ranking officials who liked to sit in their air-conditioned office and make money.

General Babalola was different, and it was in the way he did his work and controlled things. He liked to be on field, physically involved in the clockwork of activities happening around the country. As his aide, it meant Mohammed had to be hands-on too, and although it was a lucrative job, it took a lot from him. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

The General was constantly traveling round the country like a nomad, and Mohammed always had to be with him. Due to the constant movement, he didn't know where he could be at any moment, or what state he could be in the next hour.
It was hard to have any social life when you lived like that.

Other ADCs didn't work as hard as this, Mohammed thought resentfully.
Why could the General not be like the others?

He was particularly annoyed right now because they had just arrived from Ibadan two hours ago, and now they were on their way to God knows where.
He knew better than to question the General on their destination, he had learnt this lesson the hard way.

He wished he could lay back against the soft leather cushions and sleep, but he knew that would irritate his boss. He had also learnt that the hard way.
All he could do right now was fight to keep his eyes open, even though the lack of sleep was making him irritable.

A loud peal sliced through the silence in the car and Mohammed turned his head to see the General reach into the front pocket of his green uniform to withdraw his phone.
Mohammed closed his eyes, praying the call wasn't work related.
The General slid his finger across the phone screen and put it to his ear.

"What's the report?" He barked, and Mohammed jumped. The General noticed, and sent him a hard glare, causing him to sit upright, his spine aching from how fast he snapped up in his seat.
Embarrassed at being caught slacking, Mohammed avoided eye contact
He tried to listen to what the person on the other end of the line was saying, but the volume was too low.

"Okay," the General barked again, and ended the call. Before Mohammed could blink, the man snapped at him.
"Call Shola," he flung flippantly, while leaning forward to slap the partition erected between them and the driver.
"Tell him to turn the vehicles around. We're going back to the office."

Mohammed nodded earnestly and took out his phone. As he dialed Shola's number, he saw the partition slowly wind down and the officer behind wheel turned.

"Sir?"

"Stay alert," the General commanded in the same flippant tone. "We're going back to the office."

"Yes sir!" The driver managed a salute before turning to the windscreen in front of him. Slowly, the partition rose again, and they were alone.
Shola picked up at that moment and Mohammed relayed the information to him before ending the call.

"Message copied, sir," he said to the General, before turning away again. He could already feel the Jeep slowing down, but they were in the fourth vehicle of the convoy, so it was going to take a few moments before their vehicle would turn to follow the others.

After a few minutes of standstill, Mohammed started to feel the General's anger rise. The tension in the car rose like a dark shroud, and sitting beside him felt like a death sentence.
Just when he thought the General would burst into a string of profanities that was so usual for him, the vehicle finally turned and they were on their way back to the office.
Mohammed glanced behind him to see the other vehicles following their turn. He sighed in frustration.
His back was hurting from fatigue, but he dared not slouch against the chair.
The General himself was sitting upright, as he always was, his posture as a rod.
Sometimes Mohammed wondered if the man was carved from iron, because...