Victor picks his phone and dials the presidential aide. Nasir was the one who had told him about the coup being planned by Wale and the other lower rung Social Leaguers. After all he and Wale had been through, he had thought he was assured of his loyalty but from what Nasir had told him, ambition is a bitch.
The phone rings out. This is the first time this is ever happening. Nasir should always be with his phone. Victor imagines him answering his phone while humping. He quickly wipes the memory out of his mind. He wonders if he should call again so Nasir does not think he is just giving him a missed call. He tries the number again but the number is switched off. Victor has a sinking feeling in his heart but he let’s it pass. He clicks on the Twitter icon and begins to respond to his mentions. That should give the first tweet more traction.
Nasir watches the phone ring out. He smiles as he imagines what could be going on in Victor’s mind. Then he blocks his line. It was time to put the other plan to action. He had got approval for the figure the Social Leaguers gave him for this project but he was going to use the splinter group to accomplish it. They were still fresh, hungry and had a lot to prove and he would make some quick money at the sidelines. He licks his lips in anticipation. He would go chill at Nicon for two nights at the very least. This weekend was going to be…what was that Twitter word again? “Lit”. He dials Wales number. He had met Wale coincidentally at an event and he was glad that he hadn’t allowed his body odour stop him from speaking with him. Nasir had learnt at an early age that great things often come in the worst packages.
The number rings out.
Nasir checks the number again to be sure he has the right person. He only has one Wale on his contact list. Perhaps he should give him time.
Wale collapses in exhaustion. The girl’s face is covered in a soft smile and Wale can recognise it as a smile of satisfaction. They had gone on three rounds and he could tell from her groans of pleasure that she never had it so good. He knows she will tell a friend and then that friend will want a taste of his paradise…and that is how demons are made.
Wale is feeling quite triumphant and not just because he has proved again that he is the man. More importantly, their Twitter experiment had met with more success than he had imagined. Last he checked, his tweet had received close to 500 retweets. He was even surprised that Victor had retweeted it. And it had set people talking. He knew that the job of laundering the President’s image on Twitter was as good as theirs.
He picks his phone and sees the missed call. He can’t believe he had missed a call from the Presidency. He didn’t have to give it a second thought before he returned the call. Finally the stars were aligning in his favour
Akata reads the mail again. What she was seeing was almost unbelievable. 10 blogs had been rated from mildly anti-government to seriously anti government using red stars. Her blog had received four out of five red stars. The email had been forwarded to a number of people but seemed to have originated from the Presidency, Nasir. When Zainab had told her that the attack on her blog was part of a grander scheme at stifling the press, she did not want to believe it but she had evidence now. Should she just put out an article or do a series of tweets to call Nasir out and by extension the Presidency? There was only one person she knew who could give her the best advice at times like this. She picks up her phone and goes through her contact list. She finds the number and dials Niyi.
Her brother was waiting when Zainab arrived. He looked slightly pale to her. Perhaps he has not been sleeping too well. She doubts he gets near enough sleep in his line of work.
“Have you been waiting for long?” Zainab asks as she takes her seat
Her brother shakes his head.
“How are you?” He asks.
“Could be better.”
“You know you can always come home.”
This was the usual ritual each time they met. Home was the palatial mansion at Maitama. Her mother had inherited it after out living her second husband. She had not remarried but Zainab had not forgiven her either. She pulls out her phone, locates the email and hands it to her brother.
“Do you know what this is about?”
Her brother skims through the mail, his face completely expressionless. Zainab recalls how many times she had tried to learn something by the expression on his face and had failed. She is used to this.
“Where did you get this?”
“Is the President trying to gag the press?”
“I’ll help you find out.”
Zainab nods, collects her phone and forwards the message to his anonymous email. She wonders how many of these personalities he has created for himself. She knows the mail looks like it came from Nasir but you can never be too sure.
“You are still not coming home?”
“Let me know what you find out, ” Zainab says.
Her brother watches her go.
(Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.)