The man next to Amaka in her aisle seat had his head against the window, his face turned upwards, mouth open, and his eyes shut. He could be a snorer, she thought.
She looked over the seat in front of her. A female cabin crew member was shutting the door. The seat between Amaka and the man was still empty. She moved her handbag from her lap onto the spare seat and fastened her belt.
She slipped her hand in through the neck of her shirt and pulled out the election observer card on the lanyard around her neck, pulled it over her head, wound it round the card and tucked it behind the airline magazines in the seat pocket in front. The man beside her let out a solitary snore. She checked the time. The aircraft should have begun moving. Why was it taking so long?
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign. If you haven’t already done so, please stow your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin…’
Amaka heard her phone vibrating in her bag. She fetched it but didn’t answer. Seventeen missed calls, all from an unknown number. The phone began to ring again. This time it was Ambrose. She held her breath and she answered.
‘Hello, Amaka, thank you for taking my call.’
‘Amaka, are you there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
She took her time to respond. ‘Would you have allowed me?’
‘No, no. You’re right, I wouldn’t have.’
Silence. In the background she heard other voices. Ambrose continued: ‘Tell me, our people that were picked up by the DSS, was that you?’
‘Yes. But only enough to make a difference.’
‘You are one smart lady. I’m so glad you’re on our side. I just got word that Otunba has been rushed to the hospital. It sounds like a heart attack.’
‘He knows?’
‘I’m not sure he suspects it was us. He’ll probably blame his own over-zealous boys, but he knows the consequences anyway. The numbers are still coming in. Already they have won by double the number of registered voters in the entire Lagos state.’ Ambrose laughed. ‘It is pure genius.’
‘And without their votes, we had more than 250 votes in the majority of the wards?’ Amaka asked.
‘Yes. By the looks of it, without their votes, we have won. It is pure genius. Tell me, when did you get the idea to do this?’
Amaka cupped her hand over her mouth and checked on the man fast asleep next to her. ‘When you told me that each ward only has 500 registered voters.’
‘You were listening.’
‘What happens now?’
‘Well, one of three things. Either INEC declares the elections void, or they disqualify them and we win. Unlikely. Or they declare them winners and we go to tribunal and prove they rigged. A rerun is the most likely outcome. You know, from our calculations, we would have lost even if you didn’t do what you did. Now we are in a strong position. And it is still possible that they will go to court to challenge us and INEC.’
‘Not if you call Ojo and tell him you have seen videos of him having sex with underage girls.’
‘So the videos are real.’
‘Yes.’
‘And he doesn’t know you no longer have them. Amaka, I have one word for you. Genius. You are a genius. Who else would have thought of that? Rigging the election for your opponent? I will lean on my contacts close to the INEC chairman to guarantee a favourable outcome for us. INEC will secretly talk to them, but with this information, Ojo will have to agree.
‘Amaka, for the first time it is really looking possible that we have won this thing. You could just have got a governor of Lagos elected. I doff my hat to you.’
An air hostess stopped by Amaka. ‘Madam, please can I put your bag away?’
‘I have to go now,’ Amaka said to Ambrose.
‘I know. You’re running away to London. When will you be back?’
‘You had me followed.’
‘You also have to switch off your phone now,’ the hostess said.
Amaka nodded. ‘I’ll call you when I land,’ she said and powered down her phone. She placed her bag on the floor and pushed it under the seat in front of her with her foot.
When the hostess had moved on, Amaka leaned forward and tried to reach her handbag. She unclasped her seatbelt and fetched the bag from under the seat in front. She pulled out her phone again, switched it on and checked on the position of the cabin crew. She shut her eyes.
‘Hello? Guy, it’s me, Amaka. I’m on a flight to London. Do you think we can start over again?’
The End