18 You are the Head Administrator

Presently, Jamal Mujahid had a problem and the only person that could help him out was his wife's best friend Amaka Nwafor. That is the reason why he was currently sat in her office, hat in his hand, trying not to fidget under her stare. Jamal was not frightened of her; Amaka was the farthest thing from scary. Her ready smile alone was an application for sainthood but the mere fact that he could still smell Rabi on him and quite frankly was having a very hard time keeping the smug satisfied look off his face made it very difficult for Jamal to focus on enticing Amaka away from her strict regulations

"It's standard operating procedure" Amaka said

"I know. I know" Jamal tried to sound solemn

"You know I would help if it was within my reach"

"But that's just it Maka. You are in complete control of admissions"

"I am not going to abuse my position Jay"

"All you have to do is move the Beckenbauer's to the top of the list so that by next semester their daughter would be considered for a position at your primary school"

"I might as well hand over a school uniform at that point then" Amaka reasoned

"That would be helpful..." he smiled. Amaka did not respond in kind. Jamal tried a different tactic "Are those the twins" he exclaimed lifting up a silver frame displaying Chibuzo and Chiamaka beside their bicycles. "They grow up so fast don't they?" he sighed wistfully

"Now you're just grasping at straws" Amaka lifted an eyebrow

"Okay I'm going to level with you." Jamal took a deep breath "Kristof Beckenbauer is a leading ceramics and tile manufacturer in Munich. I mean he basically owns the stone and tile industry. He wants to expand in untouched markets. The Ministry of Works wants the contract."

"Why?"

"Why not? We have the much needed man power required to run it, available natural resources plus ports in Lagos for easy shipments of imported raw materials. Anyway, we tried to liaise with his second in command but the dan iska has his eyes on Marrakech so we focused our attention on the Architect as he made the tour of shortlisted countries to inspect possible building sites. Attempted to win his nomination by flying him back here first class for a 'second look' and treating him to the finest things Abuja had to offer. Yes, including hookers. However it is possible he might be swayed elsewhere"

"I don't understand where I come in" Amaka asked confused

"There is another way in" Jamal put the picture frame down and looked up sheepishly "Lenora"

"Lenora?"

"She is Beckenbauer's 7 year old daughter"

"Oh no Jamal..."

"If we can paint a life here for him. Show that he will settle nicely, help smooth his transition" Amaka was shaking her head even as Jamal spoke

"Everything else is sorted. Housing, personal staff even very highly exclusive committees his wife Kamilla can be involved in. All but this loose end Maka, this is the most prestigious school in Abuja. The most prestigious school in Nigeria. Getting Lenora in here will clinch the deal"

"You don't even know if he will move here" Amaka said incredulously 

"All aspects of his life in Abuja spell out power and influence. No other school will do. Parents broker billion naira deals just outside school gates while waiting for the final bell to ring. Everyone knows Inter house sports and drama recitals are just another term for merger and acquisition meetings or political pledges"

"We try to squeeze in education as well"

"I know that Maka; it's a wonderful school and that's why Senators and Ministers place their children on the list from kindergarten" Jamal blinked his big brown eyes. Amaka shifted in her seat "You are the Head Administrator. If you could just put the name on the list and make it seem like they were in with a shot."

Amaka started to think there would be no harm to it. Beckenbauer would obviously ace the financial screening and Lenora would raise their profile as an international school. They could add a German to the Indian, Chinese, Malaysian, Lebanese, American and British families already enrolled.

"Let's say it all goes according to plan. What then?" she asked 

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it" Jamal said with a determined look

"This your life of high risk; high reward. I don't know how Nabila puts up with it"

"She has wonderful friends like you" Jamal replied sweetly

"Biko go I've heard. You're lucky your wife knows people in high places" Amaka smiled

"Love to the twins" Jamal said as he was heading out

Amaka waved him away smiling as she returned to the paperwork Jamal had interrupted. Shaking her head; understanding how her level-headed friend fell for this charmer.

Jamal raced to his car and dialled his office. His blood pumped harder when there was a deal in the making. This is what he lived for. Manipulation, bribery and on occasion blackmail were all part of his job. In the end it was all about the bottom line; the Federal Ministry had to gross a profit. It could be non-immediate but expenses certainly had to pay for themselves by the second quarter; or it was his neck on the chopping board. He was always interested in politics but not the type played out on TV for the entire world to witness and scrutinise. Jamal meant the real politics in the powerhouses, whispered allegiances and signed cheques within actual corridors of power. Not sweating under hot sun, shaking hands or kissing babies. Screaming speeches at a crowd and assuring market women that with their votes; their interest will be protected. With these criteria, there was ever really only one place for him. Ascension in the Federal Ministries was rapid; so many contracts overlapped it was easy to earn your stripes within three years if you were cunning about it. Jamal was. He never offended, scolded or betrayed. He was a smart, a charmer, and had a face that was difficult to forget, always quick to grease someone's palm. Jamal knew from experience that people were more loyal if you gave them sugar than if you cracked the whip. So he was Mr. Friendly; always eager to dash a few thousand here or tip a couple hundred there. There was no one: colleague, client or cleaning staff that wouldn't take a bullet for Jamal Mujahid. He knew that the longer the dough was left to rise, the better the pastry. With the rate of his success at procuring deals for the Government, vast amount of contacts in every continent, friends in various levels of influence and track record of loyalty, he would be summoned to a seat of power. By age 40 he intended to be the Minister of the FCT. 

Jamal pulled into his reserved parking space at his office in Mabushi. Currently, he was Deputy Director of Engineering Services for the Ministry of Works and Housing. He ran up the stairs replying every greeting with a smile and enquiry of family wellbeing. At his desk he informed the Minister of Power and Steel on the progress of the Beckenbauer deal "Yes he has taken care of it. His contact at Elite Nursery and Primary School assured him it would not be a problem. No, no need to thank him just as long as he received what he was promised. It was imperative his friend was the line manger at the factory. Hahaha; I hear you. You too." Just as Jamal hung up, his personal assistant Zainab walked in with coffee. "What would I do without you?" he said as she placed the tray on the table. She smiled in reply and made to speak "Zainab don't worry about it. I promised you ko? As soon as we get 

the go-ahead it is guaranteed that your brother will be the line manager. Tell Abu not to worry" "Allah blesses you" Zainab sighed gratefully before seeing herself out. 

Jamal knew what he was doing. Zainab had been with him from the start and her brother was well over-qualified to run an industrial operation. He just hadn't been able to get a break. By giving Abu this recommendation Jamal ensured he had an ally in what would soon become the most profitable venture in West Africa. His sipped from his mug and laid back on his executive armchair. Across from him was a picture of Nabila; Jamal didn't remember the last time he stared at it; as though his mind had created a blind spot. He lifted the polished wood frame and tried to remember the emotions he felt on that day in Obudu Ranch when he told Nabila to pose for him. She started off shy at first then as he flattered and heaped praises, his wife's stance became relaxed then flirty. And this was the end result; Nabila in shorter- than- short white denim cut offs and a green tank top. She had her hands on her hips and leaned forward into the lens exposing her cleavage and pouting. Her hair free from its usual bondage flew wild about her face. She looked deliriously happy and incredibly sexy. It was their second year wedding anniversary getaway. Examination completed, Jamal opened his drawer and placed the photo face down in it. He did not care anymore.