I Was A Detective

Yeah, I was! So, don’t smirk😖

See ehn…the government should come to me for advice. I need to be the one training their supposed detectives. I’m not trying to make mouth, mba.

When I did my first detective job, I was still in secondary school. I don’t think I was upto 15years sef.

The morning it happened, I did not realize that I had such spirit inside me. I did not realize until then that I was smart.

You remember the part where we carried out the coolers to the shop very early? Yes. My first detective work happened on a morning like that, before 7am.

I had just carried out our biggest cooler for rice, strapped my small Nokia under my armpit to the utter disapproval of my mom who was yelling in the background about my being fixated on chatting on 2go and how she would seize the phone from me when I returned to the compound.

After I carried out the cooler, I dropped my boyfriends-connector behind the large green counter. The large counter filled up half of the shop, which in turn provided a safe haven for things that were not to be seen by customers.

I returned to the compound, carried our money box which was a former container of margarine called “Monita”. I took out the money box, placed it behind the counter, dropped my phone inside it and returned to get the pot of stew. As I marched carefully with the still brimming hot stew back to the shop, I heard someone ask,
“onye nọ ebea? I want to buy pure water.”

I replied the person and hurried on. When I got to the shop however, nobody was there. Hmm. I placed the stew at its position and went behind the counter to check my phone and chat with my boyfriends small…voom!

I saw that the contents of Monita were scattered on the floor. The little denominations left there as change for water and other small things was gone plus my phone.

Fiam! E clear for my eyes. My heartbeat quickened. My temperature rose. My head went blank. I ran out to the front of the shop and looked around, it was empty save for a guy at the end of the junction who wore a red top and had untidy hair. I didn’t see the face.

I wasn’t thinking, really. I left our shop and ran after the guy. I was more worried about the mouth lash I would receive from my mom than from actually losing my phone.

My heart kept beating gbim, gbim gbim! Ha, Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Who harrassed our shop? Who wants to put me in trouble? Who could have the mind to go behind our big counter? Hei, Jesus.

My legs trembled as I ran. Before I got to the end of the street, the person had vanished. Jesus! I stood there, panicky and looked around for anybody in a red polo and I didn’t see.

I went to the security of the bank at the junction and asked them if they saw anybody wearing a red polo, he said no. I couldn’t tell them exactly what happened, only that a person left our shop and I needed to find him.

I wanted to start crying and go back defeated but I couldn’t. I was a detective from birth. Still am.👀 I waited for almost 6minutes when I saw a red colour flash through my eyes. I turned quickly to the direction of ckc first gate and saw a fellow wearing a red polo.

Without thinking, I crossed the road, ran through Oando and caught up with him just before st.Joseph. When I got to where he was, I had to slow down a bit. I gently touched him, maintaining my pace.

“Good morning, sir.”
“Eh? Ọọ gịnị?” He growled.
“Sorry, brother. Please I want to ask you something.”
“Ehn, ọọ gini?”

I stuttered at this point as to how best to call someone a thief, someone I didn’t see his face.
“Brother, please, do you know where Asa road is?”
“Which asa road? What is it nwaa?”
He left me and continued walking.
“Brother wait. Ok. Did you pass this road today?”
I pointed at my road for him and he looked really angry.
“See me o. See this small girl. Gịnị wụkwanụ this rubbish?”

As God helping my career, a man passed us that instant. I put my hand on brother thief’s trouser and held on. Then I called out to the passerby who was staring at us.
“Brother please come. Please come.” My voice was shaky. “Brother, help me hold this brother.”

The passerby was confused but walked up to us and held brother thief by his elbow. I think he feared a little cause he called out another passerby while brother thief ranted loudly. Soon, there was a mini crowd watching the spectacle I created. I patiently told them everything from how my mom warned me to drop my phone and I refused, to how I took out Monita, to how I returned for the stew, to how I heard someone’s voice, to how I met no one except an abused Monita and no phone.

People started threatening him. Before I know it, I was crying helplessly. People were consoling me. Someone was asking for a machete. Another one was requesting for tyre. Someone else was sending an errand to buy fuel and matches. Another woman was admonishing school children to go to school.

Brother thief now confessed.  He begged for leniency and said he’d take us to where he stashed my precious phone and my mother’s money. I wasn’t even 💯 sure it was him.

He took the crowd to the packed landrover which we had all backed. I saw my phone. It was turned off. I immediately turned it on. My dad was calling already. He no dey waste time. I told him where I was and in seconds he appeared to see an angry crowd willing to mob brother thief who was crying and begging.

In the end, my dad told them he was going to take him to the police station. Two other men volunteered to leave their businesses and accompany him so that the thief does not escape.

When the crowd dispersed, we had only walked to the main ckc gate when my dad told the volunteers that he wanted to let pleading brother thief go. E pain those people. My dad paid for their bus fare, with a prostration of thanks from brother thief and took me home.

I wasn’t happy with his decision but I was the streets’ heroine for weeks. All thanks to my mom.

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22 thoughts on “I Was A Detective

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  6. Bravo. I admire your courageous take on this.

    I have a similar story but eh, it’s not always easy o. These thieves confuse a lot.

    Anyway sha, thank God he was found out on time and he didn’t die on your cause.

    Chukwu mere ya.

    BTW, you have a nice story here. I hope you’re still “detective” enough?

  7. Hhhhmmm very courageous. And your dad is kind hearted ooo. Me i will nor leave him o. Not in this Nigeria…

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