HELLO

'Hello, how far nah,' a hoarse voice blared from my earpiece. I had received the call without flipping out my phone from my pocket. The fat woman beside me wouldn't let me do that. I just pressed the answer button on my earpiece and this unknown voice filled my ears.

'Hello,' I replied, trying to figure out who the voice belonged to. I don't like asking peeps who's on the line, especially when I'm supposed to have the person's phone number saved in my phone. Before I could finish the torment of figuring out the voice, he spoke again.

'Austin, you remember during camp, you lent me some few bucks like that.' I tried hard to recollect the voice again but it was impossible and I couldn't remember lending anyone money during camp. 'Sorry, I've not paid you back since then. I'm coming to the Secretariat to see you,' the voice spoke in finality and the line went dead.

Whodafuq is this?

I was actually headed to the Secretariat - my PPA. My mind kept wondering who the voice belonged to. I got to the Secretariat, alighted the keke and paid the keke man. I brought out my phone to check the caller's identity. What I saw added to my flustered self, my last call read thus: "unknown number".

'How far, Austin,' I heard the voice again. This time, not via my earpiece. The voice was close by, beside me. I turned to my right, I saw him. He was dressed in a natty black suit. I remembered him, we belonged to same platoon during camp, but I couldn't recall lending him money.

My puzzle had been cleared, I was able to speak now, 'guy, na you be this? Longest time o! Wait fess, why you hide your number de call me?' I asked.

He let out a simper and said, 'I been wan shock you jare'.

'Omo, you really shock me o! I no go lie you, I nearly get cardiac arrest,' I replied still figuring out when I lent him money and how much.

'Enhe guy, see the money jare, no vex for me all this while, na condition,' he pleaded and handed me some wads of naira notes. I collected them and before I could say a word, he had flagged down a bike, climbed and left me with a parting message, 'I don late for work, we go chat.'

...............

After work, I got home, I was happy that at least, I was five thousand naira richer, albeit not knowing when I lent Douglas the money—yes, that's his name. Even if he claimed he owed me money which I didn't remember, I felt I owed him a call of thanks.

I brought out my phone, searched for his number and dialed. After the drab callertune by Mtn, a voice spoke up, 'hello'. It wasn't Douglas's voice neither did it sound like the voice he used while he called earlier. 'Please, 'I managed to muter, 'I want to speak with Douglas'. The next set of words I heard sent a pang of shock down my nerves and left me petrified;

'Douglas is dead, he died last week. He's been seriously sick for a while.'

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