You push through the growing mob of artisans, unionists, motorcyclists and drivers beneath Apo Bridge in Abuja. At first the combined smell of sweat and cheap perfume makes you dizzy. It isn’t possible to hold your breath until you reach the front where the truck and loud speakers are; your lungs refuse to cooperate. If Uncle Haruna had known that when he told you the President, fed up, had approved the shooting of mischief makers in the streets, you would rush out despite the curfew with neither veil nor head covering, he would not have placed that call. You clutch your phone tightly; you do not know these people, you do not trust them. Some of the banners and hurriedly made placards make you afraid. The back of a t-shirt reads, ‘Death to the Cabal’, and you read from many of your friends on Facebook, before you deleted your account last week, that the Minister of State for Petroleum was part of that cabal. Not that the people passing the rumours knew anything of the matter. Not that they even realised you were his daughter when they tagged you in the viral notes and links. You knew better than to defend him. Now you wonder if anyone in the crowd will see the resemblance in your slant eyes, or dimples, or sharp nose; whether the man in the t-shirt that wants death for your father, will turn around and stab you in the eye. Or worse take you hostage and promise to do horrible things to you unless your father and his friends give themselves up, let go of the country, make fuel sixty-five naira again.
You hold your breath again and keep pushing. Your heart is doing well. It is resolute. Only seeing Domkat can stop this push. One of the Labour leaders has just finished speaking and the music takes over before the next speaker takes the Mic. As the speakers boom out the first sounds of Fela’s ‘Zombie’, a tall placard-bearing man in front of you suddenly becomes animated. His elbow pokes you sharp in the chest. As you step back, stunned, your palms on your chest, he turns around with his placard in one hand and just waves sorry. His placard has two lines:
Jonathan is a Bitch for the IMF.
Sent to FUCK Nigerians.
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