The Road to the Salt Sea by Samuel Kolawole

Author:Samuel Kolawole
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

22

Ghaddafi had been locked away for three years for stealing three yams from a merchant. Somehow, his file vanished, or at least that was the official report, so the magistrate court never got to his case. He languished in jail for many months, and later he was transferred to prison, where he spent another year awaiting trial. When he finally got his day in court, he was sentenced to one year’s imprisonment.

“Three years? Why?” Able God asked, stunned.

“I did not have a lawyer. I am a nobody; my parents are paupers. There was no help coming from anywhere. I only looked to God,” he said to Able God, squinting against the late evening sun. Able God wiped the sweat from his forehead with a finger.

“When I was discharged from prison, I made up my mind to start life again, standing as a man,” he continued. “I tried to work at a factory, but they wouldn’t give me a job. The manager said it was because I am an ex-convict. Then I tried the transport business, same thing. No one trusted me with their vehicle.”

He paused as though searching for an appropriate tone—somber or pained. “When getting a job didn’t work, I tried to learn a skill. First, it was as a cobbler. I didn’t finish that one because my master accused me of stealing his money. I tried carpentry but the master sacked me when he heard I was ex-convict.”

Again, he paused as though to let Able God absorb the details.

“I will continue to face my challenges, and I know one day I will make it.”

Ghaddafi’s words deflated Able God, and for a moment, guilt and shame overwhelmed him. There he was, standing before a man who had paid too steep a price for a petty crime, his life ruined because he was poor and without connections. As much as Able God would love to find common ground between them to make him feel better, he knew he was nothing like Ghaddafi. Able God wouldn’t even be on this journey if he had summoned the courage to face the consequences of his actions. Life had given him everything Ghaddafi could only dream of, and yet they were there together.

The pickup truck lumbered in through the entrance carrying barrels sloshing with water. Ben Ten gathered the travelers and went on about how long it took to load the barrels with water and how they needed to stock up on water for the journey across the Sahara. Morufu looked exhausted but happy, a little smile on the corner of his lips.

Able God felt his muscles tighten in exhaustion. He walked into the building before Ben Ten finished his speech and lay down on the mat. Before he drifted off to sleep, images of the Hotel Atrium passed before his eyes, then he saw the room where it all happened.

He woke up to the sound of shouting and running in the compound. For a few moments, he thought the building had been invaded or, rather, they had come for him.

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