‘Who invited this old baba?’ Ambrose said from his seat.
Those who hadn’t noticed Otunba followed Ambrose’s gaze to the old man in the doorway. Two men moved their seats apart so that an additional seat could fit at the table. Otunba sat and the servant holding his chair asked if he wanted anything to drink. Otunba waved the man away.
‘Who is trying to kill your candidate?’ Ambrose asked and everybody laughed, including Otunba.
‘Don’t mind the boy,’ Otunba said. He removed a brown envelope from his pocket and pulled out two bundles of hundred-dollar bills. ‘What is happening? Your people are not yet rioting.’
‘Your people have to start.’
‘We started yesterday. It died when your people didn’t arrive.’ Otunba accepted a stack of chips.
‘We were there. Your boys had sophisticated weapons. If we engaged, it would have been bloody for us. Your guys would have gotten too excited.’
The lady spoke. ‘Boys, you know the rules, no business at the table.’
‘No riot, no emergency security vote,’ Otunba said. ‘No emergency security vote, no money.’
‘You mean Abuja hasn’t sent money by now?’
‘Boys,’ the lady snapped.