For someone who doesn’t like going out much and rarely experiences any drama, it’s funny how life can take some really interesting turns.
So, here’s the short version of this story: I travelled out of Lagos with my friends for a wedding only to end up at the police station, trying to secure the release of the best man and a few other guys at 3 am just a few hours before the ceremony.
But here’s how it really went down…
It was December 20 – 21, 2013.
It was finally Tunde’s wedding. We all thought he was joking when he announced the date and told us to get ready. Knowing him, we expected some kind of drama and a last-minute cancellation but on Friday, we finally hit the road to go celebrate with him.
Unlike the others, some of us couldn’t leave Lagos for Ijebu-Ode till late on Friday evening because our offices were closing for the year. I had to attend a party organised by my company’s NGO and finish my annual report before going anywhere.
Tunde wasn’t our ‘boy’; he was more like an elder brother. The other guys were his peers, but I and my friends were a few years younger even though we all shared a unique bond because we graduated from Olabisi Onabanjo University. The only difference was that they graduated one year apart.
I, Scooby, Ope and Muyi all lived in Tunde’s apartment in Ewet Housing Estate, Uyo (I only spent weeks at a time) during our NYSC in Akwa Ibom. We were there when he threw and attended all the parties from Second Base to Lounge Uno and others.
We were the ones who had to defuse tense situations when one side-chick came calling and another side-chick was around. This meant that we kept inheriting girlfriends we never met once the ‘original’ came around. We helped out with his sales job and generally enjoyed a service year many others could only dream about. Missing his wedding wasn’t an option; besides everyone, we knew from Uyo was going to be there and we’ve missed them.
That Friday, Ope finally called me around 7 PM. He was the one driving & I was the first person he had to pick along the way. Scooby & Pinana (another guy from OOU were already waiting at Berger so we just had to stop for a few minutes to pick them before hitting the expressway. At that time of the day, Lagos-Ibadan expressway was a mess but thankfully, Ope drives like a Lagos Danfo driver. One minute he’s finding pockets of space to manoeuvre with his Camry, the next he’s driving off-road with the impatient interstate bus drivers.
Three hours later we got to Ijebu-Ode. Even with the harmattan haze which reduced visibility, it looked different. There was now a flyover bridge at the intersection where you’re either headed towards Benin, turning left into town or heading right towards Ikorodu.
A few minutes after passing the Lagos Garage, we realised we were driving up a bridge where there was formerly none. Thankfully we stopped and backed up; if not we would have dropped off the top if we kept going because the bridge wasn’t finished and the signs weren’t really visible. By 10 PM, we were settled at the hotel. Surprisingly, Tunde refused to join the others at the club. Nothing we said could get him out – he was tired & wasn’t in the mood. Plus, he didn’t want to wake up with a hangover.
It was as if he knew shit would hit the fan. When we got to the club, everyone was there; Kay, the best man; Bayo had been transferred to Imo from Akwa Ibom but he came in with Fola. Tony, a childhood friend of Bayo was in town for the holidays from England. We didn’t know some of the other guys but it really didn’t matter; a friend of my friend is my friend. Besides, new friendships can always be forged over bottles of Johnny Walker.
Just one thing, there were very few women around.
Kay stepped outside and came back in with some guy in a white kaftan – let’s call him Alfa. He’d been told by Alfa that he has some female friends from TASUED who wouldn’t mind partying as they lived off-campus. Bayo was not interested; his fiancé was at the hotel. Tony was having a nice conversation with a pretty bartender who happened to be from his hometown in Edo. I, Scooby, Ope and Pinana weren’t bothered either but Alfa somehow managed to convince Kay to goad Ope into driving them to get the girls.
About 30 minutes later, I got a call from Ope so I stepped away from the loud music
“Guy, police don arrest us o. You guys should come quick abeg!”
“What the hell! How?”
“They said I’m driving a stolen vehicle o. Just come quickly we’re at –”
The call disconnected.
I ran back inside to tell the others and within five minutes, we were all parked at the police station on the same road as the club. Alarmed at the sound of screeching vehicles bathing the entrance with headlights, some officers rushed at us with their assault rifles.
“Who una be? Wetin una dey find?
“Oga, two of our friends were just arrested. We’re here to see them.”
“Which two? Na six people our people carry enter station!”
Apparently, they were returning with the girls.
“Two of our friends are among them.”
“Okay. Come back tomorrow.”
“Officer that’s not possible. We have to see them now.”
“I say make una dey go! If I count to three and una never comot here…” The officer cocked his rifle.
We didn’t wait to hear the rest as we scurried into our cars and backed away. At a safe distance, we got out and decided to send two people over.
It was while we were debating who to send that we realised Tony didn’t leave with us when we left the station’s entrance. Some of us began to panic. Boyo, however, told us not to, he was just going to join Tony to plead with the officers but Tony was with us before we knew it.
“Guys, dem say we fit enter.”
How did he do it? How come they didn’t manhandle him? Tony somehow felt we had questions so he told us he only showed the police his ID as an officer in the British Navy.
Bloody hell.
Buoyed by this little progress, we got to the counter to see Ope and Kay stripped down to their boxer shorts. Apparently, homeboy was arrested because he wasn’t carrying any form of identification as he had forgotten his licence and ID card at the hotel. Since the car belonged to his company and the officers couldn’t find anything to link him to the company, they simply arrested him, Kay and the girls. Unable to keep his big mouth shut, the short goat further infuriated the officers by insulting one of them with plenty English.
We had no choice but to beg. The officers said we had to pay N20,000 but they were only going to release Kay, the girls, Alfa but not Ope and his car. We refused; everyone needed to be out even though we didn’t care much about Alfa and his friends. And damn, those girls were so not fine! It was as if they’d just arrived from the fufu Olympics. Ope said he overheard one of them talking about leaving her two kids with her mom in order to be out that night.
Fola suggested calling Kay’s dad since he retired as a highly ranked police officer but Bayo suggested we shouldn’t. Apparently, Kay’s fiancée might find out and it would not be pretty.
If he slept alone that night, would he have died?
Anyway, we continued begging and around 3 am, they finally agreed to release everyone but the female officers with the register demanded extra money to let them go.
These were a greedy bunch and it seemed we had unwittingly become an ATM for them.
All this time, Fola was just chilling outside the station with his flask drinking away. Somehow, a muscled, bare-chested officer closed him down and asked to know what was in his flask.
“Officer, na Black Label o. I no fit let this Ijebu cold kill me for outside.”
The officer laughed, before asking Fola to guess why he was alive, seeing as he wasn’t fully dressed.
“Bros leave that thing jare, no be every night una dey patrol? And I sure say you go dey drink too for patrol… Abeg, you go drink? Follow me go car make I give you JD.”
When they got to the car, the officer was surprised at how much alcohol Fola had in the trunk. Fola just shrugged and told him that it was the way he and his pals rolled in Uyo.
Apparently, the officer he did his NYSC in Akwa Ibom too in 2009, Batch B.
That was Bayo’s set!
Fola couldn’t hide his excitement at this new piece of information, “Bros some of my people for here dey the same camp with you for Akwa Ibom. Make I take you go meet them.”
He gave the officer a bottle of Jack Daniels and half-walked, half-ran back to meet us at the counter.
“Bayo!”
At that time, Bayo was pleading with the female officers who refused to sign out Ope and Kay without something for themselves. After an agreed 20 grand to the male officers, we weren’t interested in parting with one more Kobo but the officers were just as adamant.
When he got to Fola, the look of recognition on his face was unmistakable as he stared at the officer with him.
“I know you. Akwa Ibom. NYSC. 2009. Na you contest for Mr Macho when we been dey camp.”
That was how Bayo suddenly shouted, “Agbara!”
Apparently, that was what they called the officer back then because of his muscles and weightlifting addiction. The crazy thing was that Bayo and the officer all lived in Uyo with Fola’s elder brother for a while before they got their own accommodation.
We were now so confident because we had the advantage of nostalgia and a friend willing to help us – it was a breeze from then on. Fortunately, we hadn’t even paid for their release so we halved it and asked Officer Agbara to settle things for us. The female officers got nothing.
As we left the station at about 3 am that morning, I asked Ope if he was going to drop off the girls they went to pick up.
“Abeg, screw that. I didn’t ask for this in the first place.”
The laughter that erupted among us was palpable. It’s been a crazy night.
We barely had two hours of the sleep at the hotel before Tunde came knocking on our doors to get us ready for the engagement. The lucky dude was just laughing his head off as we narrated our ordeal, thanking his stars that he wasn’t with us as it all went down.
I’m not gonna talk about the wedding but I know you’ll be wondering about how we all made it through. It was really fun but let’s just say we were a bunch of groggy-eyed groomsmen for the first couple of hours.
PS: We left the church to go eat amala when the service was taking too long. Anglican churches like to waste time for Africa sometimes and hunger wanted to kill us.
