“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.” – Helen Keller
The worst thing one can do is running away from a crime scene but leave evidence behind. I felt so stupid for celebrating prematurely. With my driver’s licence in their possession, I knew it was going to be easy for them to locate and arrest me. I started panicking. My phone rang and it was a hidden identity call. I answered and the first thing I heard was “how far are you? My associates are getting impatient.” I told him about the cops and my driver’s licence and he told me he didn’t have time for stories. “You know what, fu*k you dude. Tell your associates that I am not coming. I hate your stinking attitude. You will deliver the cargo yourself. I have had it with this sh!t. Fu*k and all your Naija drug lords. I am about to be arrested and all you care about is your business,” I was crying as I said that.
I expected him to go hard on me but he did the opposite. “I am very sorry for being hard on you. I am just under pressure. You know what, I will get your driver’s licence and make sure you are not arrested. Please don’t quit now,” he pleaded. I calmed down, especially after hearing him promising to sort the cop issue out. He told me to check my WhatsApp for instructions he was going to send in few minutes. I continued driving after the call. My phone vibrated. It was a text from Ifechi with instructions. I thought I was meeting his people at the hotel but it turned out they were at a house in Ballito, one of the poshiest burbs in Durban. As soon as I joined Ruth First highway I noticed there was a car following me.
I called Ifechi to tell him there was a car following me. He told me to ignore it and continue driving. I drove as per his instructions until I spotted a black Mercedes Benz. The driver rolled down the window and instructed me to follow him. I followed the car until we reached some huge house. One of the passengers in the black car came to my car and opened the door. He didn’t even greet or say anything to me. He took out a black cloth and blindfolded me. I didn’t have the balls to ask why they were blindfolding me. Ifechi assured me that they were not going to hurt me. He helped me to walk for about 10 minutes. When he removed the cloth from my eyes I was inside a house with a very luxurious interior décor. Their cargo was in front of me. I asked them if I could make a call and they said I was not allowed to contact anyone for the next two days.
“What do mean the next two days? I am flying back to Joburg today. Didn’t Ifechi tell you? I delivered your things. I don’t see a reason why I should be here for two days,” I said. They all burst out laughing. “You must be drunk…… slay queen. Yes you are flying…..to Brazil. We have organised passport and everything you will need. I am shocked Ifechi didn’t brief you. How the hell do you think this cargo will get to Brazil? Do you think it will fly on its own?” he farted with his mouth. I could not believe what he said. I couldn’t believe Ifechi set me up. His plan all the time was to turn me into a mole. It was at that stage that I knew I was in danger. I stood up and told them I was leaving. One of them took out a gun and said “you can only leave as a corpse. I will shoot you if you try any crap. Do you hear me?” he said looking me straight in the eyes.
I hated myself for believing Ifechi had my best interests at heart. I remembered a story of some Eastern Cape woman who was arrested with drugs stashed in her dreadlocks. I was not ready to make front pages of newspapers and tabloids. I was not ready to miss my brother’s birthday. I knew it was going to hurt him big time. I went down on my knees and begged them not to send me overseas. “Not even Bushiri will save you from this one. We paid Ifechi good money to have you here. If you pull this one you will get a fair share. You come highly recommended,” he said. WTF, Ifechi was more evil than thought. He played me.
One of them dragged me to the bedroom and tied me to the bed. He told me he was punishing me for not being cooperative. My phone was confiscated. Couple of minute later I heard new voices in the house. One sounded white and the other one sounded very Nigerian. They were discussing logistics for the following day. I heard the white guy asking if they trusted me and one of them said “Ifechi speaks highly of her. If she messes up she will get arrested. We will pay someone to kill her in jail. We can’t afford to have any leaks.” The Nigerian guy came to the bedroom to bring food. The minute we locked eyes I saw something on his face. He froze for few seconds. He put the food on the bed and left without uttering a word. I couldn’t even eat because I was tied. I cried myself to sleep.
I was woken up by a whisper, “ssshhhhhh I can help you.”