Ambrose walked ahead of Amaka down the dark, unlit corridor in his mansion. Yellowman walked behind them. Ambrose stopped in the middle of the corridor where moonlight poured in through a window overlooking the front yard. He turned to Amaka. ‘Did you bring it?’ he said.
Amaka looked at Yellowman. Light from the window cut across his body from the shoulders down. In the shadow, his neck and face were a pale grey. He held his hands behind his back where he stood a couple of metres away but still within earshot. She looked at Ambrose. ‘Can we be alone?’ she said.
Ambrose gestured to Yellowman and the tall figure withdrew into the shadow. Amaka waited to hear the door shut, then she turned to Ambrose.
‘I have a confession to make. I don’t have the memory card but he doesn’t know that. You just have to tell him exactly what I described to you and he’ll be convinced you’ve seen the videos. He’ll have no choice but to withdraw his candidacy. I can deal with him as a civilian, but if he becomes governor, he’ll be too powerful and he’ll have immunity.’
‘Immunity does not mean he cannot be investigated. Gani Fawehinmi vs Inspector General of Police. 2002.’
‘You’re a lawyer?’
‘No. I am a politician. But I know the law when it affects me. How did you lose the memory card?’
‘My handbag was stolen at Oshodi. It was in it.’
‘I see.’ He looked larger in the darkness. He leant on the window ledge and crossed his arms. ‘In that case, the information is useless. What if he calls my bluff? What if there is no video? I mean, I know the man is a dog, but the things you described are unbelievable even from me.’ Amaka was about to talk. He put up his hand. ‘And what if we want him to run? Have you considered that?’
He turned to the window. Outside, beyond the compound’s fence, empty plots of fenced-off land stretched out next to rows of houses in different stages of construction.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘Everything you see belongs to me. Buildings, land, roads, everything. But one small boy can come and become governor and say that government has revoked my allocation and just like that I lose it all. That is power. All this land you see, the land on which this house is built, it is all allocation. This is how I have made my money, from government allocation, and I do not want to lose it. This is called stake. This is my stake. What is your stake in this? You say you don’t want him to be governor. You say because he’s a bad person; he does bad things to little girls. But I’m not convinced. There must be more to this. This is personal.
‘You say you can’t tell me how you got your hands on the things on his phone, but now that he’s running for governor you want to use the evidence to destroy him. I think you’re afraid that any time he thinks of his governorship bid, he thinks of you as well. You stole from him and now he wants back what you took.
‘Protection, I think that is what you really want. Am I correct?’ He peered into her eyes above the rim of his glasses. ‘My answer is yes. You can join our party. Now, normally we would take you to a shrine where you will swear before a babalawo, but that wouldn’t work on you because you, you know it is all bullshit. The second option is to get your hands dirty. That is what you will have to do.
‘You will be one of my moneybag men. You see, rigging is a leaky business. For every million you spend, only a few thousand gets to the intended recipients. That is why we lost the last election; our own people were stealing the money meant to buy us votes. You will personally handle the dispersal of funds. You will carry the bribe to the INEC officials who can either accept it or hand you over to SSS if they’ve already been bought by the opposition. Can you do this, knowing who your father is?
‘But even that only buys you membership. For what you really want, for my protection, you have to do something else for me.’