Criminals

THREE MONTHS TO THE PRESENT DAY

People usually get itchy when they travel, but not Uche and most definitely not this place. This was more like a suicide mission. You don't itch for that; instead, you pray the car never gets there.

What am I going to do for one whole year in a remote village? How am I going to survive without electricity and the internet?" Uche sank into his thought of worry; his face fell against the window as the red Sienna ran over the black tarmac so fast the passing greenery became a hazy blur. The seats and windows shake with every small bump in the ragged pavement, jostling the passengers back and forth. The air conditioning pumps through only a few filters, whistling with the extreme pressure. It smells slightly of diluted gas. As the world slides by the window, there are small movements from amongst the passengers. There is a slight cough and a faint "bless you" as someone moves in their seat.

Will there be flowers and love or will his loneliness continue? He returned to his thought. However, some people do find true love during their service year, which even leads to marriage. In Ekiti State, his boss, Mr. Kalu, worked in a small, isolated village. He and a young woman who was clearly out of his league were the only two corp members posted to the community. For the first three months, she ignored him like a pledge. Then boredom set in and she needed someone to pass the time with, so they became friends. Every time she felt bored, aroused, or cold, she would find a reason to come see him. They would chat for hours on end while playing, laughing, and yelling like teenagers.

A mystical moment occurred one chilly night when they made love, their clothes came off, their eyes met, their lips locked, and their hearts pounded. Not long after, they fell in love. He married her and together they have four beautiful kids. Uche hoped for a love story like that, one that would endure and most likely result in marriage.

"Corper!" the driver called in a trembling bass.

He ignored the call and kept staring blankly out of the window.

"Corper, what is wrong with you?"

Deliberately, Uche turned to face the driver. A big, heavy man with untidy, overgrown hair and a beard. From Uche's angle, his potbelly was almost touching the steering wheel.

"Nothing," he whispered after a deep breath.

"Where were you posted to?"

"Some Christian Secondary in Obot Akara LGA, Akwa Ibom," Uche sighed

A genuine grin appeared across his lips. "You definitely need to work on the pronunciation of that place but I get it. Why then is your face like that?" He asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"It is a remote village," he cried out.

"It is not," he waved his head. "The school is along the road. The community is peaceful. I stop there to eat bush meat and sip palm wine whenever I am travelling from Lagos. I think you will enjoy it there. He glanced at Uche and then looked back at the road. "A handsome young man like you will not have a problem with the girls," he said.

A shy smile cut across his face. "We were told in camp to be cautious around the girls because HIV is prevalent there."

"Yeah," he nodded in agreement. "And these people like sex a lot, especially the women. That is why I said you will enjoy the place…" A peal of long, hard laughter erupted from both of them.

"Don't beat yourself over it; some people are already there and they are having the best time of their lives. Not worrying yourself should be your aim. "He paused, his eyelids flickering quickly." Uche could tell he was deep in thought.

"Last week, I carried a young lady, a fresh corper just like you. She was pretty, not too tall, and had a huge chest like this." His hands departed the steering wheel and moved beneath his chest, describing the girl's enormous breast. "Dark, shining skin, a beautiful smile, and open teeth.".

"Really?" Uche asked, already trying to picture this pretty fellow corper.

"Yes, she sat in the same place you are seated right now. Omo is her name."

"Hmmm," he glanced upward. "Omo, sounds like the name of a church girl."

"Even if she is the sister of Jesus, just one month of boredom in that village will loosen her."

"Hmmm," Uche murmured.

Suddenly, the brakes squeaked, causing everyone to lurch forward as the car slid to a halt. A huge policeman in dark goggles appeared on the driver's window. He had three red "V"s on both shoulders, indicating he was a sergeant.

"Oga, good morning," the driver greeted.

"Good morning," he responded, already scanning the car for any abnormality.

"Where are we going?" He removed his glasses, exposing his blood-red eyes.

"Uyo"

"Alright," he gestured with a nod. "Anything for the boys?"

"Ha!" the driver snorted a laugh. "Na me be your boy, oh."

"Big man like you? How is that possible?"

"I be ordinary driver oh. You be a whole officer of the Nigerian Police Force!"

"Ok oh…" he became a stroll to the rear of the car. "Driver, you carry plenty load for booth oh, e be like say you go come open the booth..."

The driver swiftly produced a filthy fifty naira note from his penguin hole after spotting impending trouble.

"Oga, come take abeg" he interrupted the officer. Unhurriedly, he came to the front and took the money while continuing to act as though he was conducting a search.

"Alright!" he shouted and gave the car an open palm slap. The engine roared back to life as the driver pressed the gas pedal, and they were soon back on the highway, the tyres kissing the macadam.

Certain they were far from the roadblock, the driver murmured under his voice, "Criminals."