‘Who’s this?’ he asked, pointing at Aroli.
‘Oh, this is my very good friend, Aroli. Together we want to help you to help us. You know it’s better for two to help one than for one to help one.’ Taduno laughed merrily to dispel the Sergeant’s fear.
‘I see what you mean!’ The Sergeant laughed too.
Aroli joined in the laughter. And together they all laughed merrily, like three idiots.
‘So?’ Sergeant Bello asked, when their laughter had died down.
‘Yeah, we’re thinking . . . we’re thinking you should have dinner with us tonight somewhere nice.’
‘Oh no, no, no!’ Sergeant Bello shook his head. ‘Dinner sounds okay to me, but not anywhere nice. I’m not used to nice. Nice is a mere waste of money.’
‘In that case we could go somewhere not so nice and not so bad.’ Taduno demonstrated with his hands, that smile of an idiot still on his face. ‘How about that?’
Sergeant Bello nodded with satisfaction. ‘That sounds better. I’ll be off duty by six. Just remember, nowhere nice. I don’t like nice. I don’t like nice at all!’
The three of them laughed loudly. And as Taduno and Aroli made to leave, Sergeant Bello stretched out his hand. ‘You are forgetting something,’ he said, in a frosty voice.
Taduno slipped a 500-naira note into his hand.
The Sergeant kept his hand outstretched. ‘“It’s better for two to help one.” Those were your words.’
Taduno shrugged and added another 500-naira note.
*
Their rendezvous was an open-air restaurant situated along a canal that carried half the city’s dirt. The restaurant was poorly lit, and it was certainly not nice, but not so bad by Sergeant Bello’s standard.
Their orders arrived promptly, and they ate quietly – Taduno and Aroli with relaxed looks on their faces; Sergeant Bello with a sombre look on his.
Under the poor light, Taduno had the opportunity to study Sergeant Bello away from the police station. And he was surprised to see the face of the city – a city battered by a regime that used hopeless people like Bello to perpetuate itself.
They finished eating and moved to an open-air bar, still along the canal, where people were drinking and murmuring, drinking and murmuring against the government, and their anger kept rising with their drunkenness. And their voices became so loud nothing they said made sense any more. And all that filled the air in that garden of drinking people was bitter anger against the government. And Sergeant Bello could take it no more – knowing he was against the people, and on the side of evil. And he felt sad knowing that the same people he was against murmur not for their own good, but for his as well.
Taduno sensed Sergeant Bello’s state of mind. He cleared his throat. ‘When the people murmur like this, it means there is hope for the future,’ he said, trying to sound cheerful.
‘Maybe. But what hope is there for someone like me?’ Sergeant Bello was forlorn. He drank some beer.
‘The same hope there is for us all,’ Aroli explained. ‘The same hope we share as a society.’
Sergeant Bello gave a small bitter laugh. ‘How can I share the same hope with these people when I’m a part of what they murmur against?’
‘Regardless of which side we are on, hope is universal. When you begin to hope, you begin to murmur against that which hinders you. And when you murmur, change is bound to come.’ Aroli shook his head. ‘I wish I could explain it better.’
‘You’ve explained it well enough.’ There was a distant look on Sergeant Bello’s face. ‘I have enough education to understand your words. And you know what?’
‘What?’ Taduno and Aroli asked as one.
‘I’m beginning to think there’s hope for me after all.’ A weak smile spread across the Sergeant’s face.
Taduno and Aroli exchanged looks.
‘Why did you suggest dinner?’ Sergeant Bello asked.
Taduno went to the point. ‘I need more information about Lela. Why was she kidnapped?’
Sergeant Bello looked thoughtful.
‘Why was she kidnapped?’ Taduno persisted.
‘Government is looking for her boyfriend. He is a musician who used his music to cause trouble for government. They can’t find her boyfriend, so they kidnapped her – as a ransom.’
‘So it’s her boyfriend the government is really after?’
‘Yes. If they find him and get him to sing favourably about government, she will be released. Otherwise, she will be killed. They are afraid that his music could start a revolution and topple the government.’
‘But she is innocent.’
Sergeant Bello laughed quietly.
‘Government does not believe in innocence.’
They drank in silence for a while. And then Taduno asked: ‘What’s the name of the man the government is looking for?’
‘They don’t know his name, and the girl would not tell. They only know him as a great musician with a magnetic voice.’
‘Have they got a picture of this man?’
‘No, they don’t. They used to know his name; they used to have his picture. But then something happened, something strange nobody can remember, and he became a man with no name and no face. They think he is at the heart of a sinister conspiracy to topple the government.’
‘So the government is looking for a man they don’t know, a man with no name and no face?’ Taduno wore a bewildered look.
‘Yes, but the girl Lela knows, and they are trying to make her reveal his identity.’
‘And the boyfriend must become a praise-singer for the government if they are to release her?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where are they holding her?’
‘CID headquarters. But I don’t advise you to go there! You’ll only get yourselves arrested and tortured.’
‘By the way,’ Aroli spoke slowly, ‘how would the government identify the man they are looking for if he has no name and no face?’
‘By his voice,’ Sergeant Bello replied. ‘His voice is his identity. He has the most wonderful voice in the world. No other human being sings like him . . .’
A slight pause.
‘Look, by telling you all these things, I’m simply joining my voice to those of the people, hoping that my little contribution will make a difference.’ The Sergeant shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
