The Time

They ask us to fully explain ourselves through the intercom. Then give us a code to pin on the machine beside the gate, just outside the complex. That they say; is the only way for us to can be able to get inside the premises. Through speaking to a person we are visiting.

We didn’t want to explain ourselves to them or, anyone else. Especially after we have observed many times, how most of them are prone to being rude and, easily manipulated by any would be intruder with money in his hands. Food parcels are the other edible thing which they very much seem to can able to resist.

Without wasting much of your time my dears, or like they always say; without any further or due,

I’d like to tell you how they let us in, without much of a hassle last time we came to the very premises which I’m talking about looking for the truth. How they quickly scolded us and accused us of being the cause of much of their tenants’ distress. While vowing to never let us in, in the near future if we cease looking into the affairs of those they’re looking after in pursuit of our very own fame and fortune.

It took their manager’s intervention for them to let us through the gates of their palatial space. This happened while they were busy bragging about how good they’re at doing their jobs. I was very glad to hear him tell them where to get off. But got shocked after he started quoting his list of frivolous demands of which we didn’t adhere to, we would’ve found ourselves being tossed outside the premises.

And one of his demands was us having a picture taken with him. Something I found very odd as it was never our duty to promote his flailing security management career. The photo didn’t come cheap as it was nothing other than a high definition picture. Which I later saw on his social network’s wall page.

I’m still mulling over how I went against my team’s advice not to have a photo taken with him. No matter the threat he had promised to subject us to. My journalistic ethics also didn’t compel me to accede to or fulfill any man’s demands or wishes.

He was a no-gooder because we had been there for hours. Struggling to get in. I should say though he helped us, he seemingly didn’t care about the welfare of our families or our careers. Which might be in line if we ever wrote a story off our heads tops. I drove our plateless vehicle in with a smile. Oblivious to the meandering glares of his subordinates.

Guards not security officers. Not especially by our country’s safety & security standards. Here I’m talking about fully grown man who had once ask for our help in tears. But quickly went to their old ways when things between them and their boss started working out fine.

I remember how they shed tears and wet our reception with tears after I colloquially asked them to leave us in peace. As we had many tasks to complete before the end of our day.

I had wanted to rein them in for their internal mishaps, and for the abusive language, they seem too keen to use on anyone who’ve come to their place. Looking to source out information which may lead to a smile on the face of anyone who feel terrorised by people like them. People who become incensed too easily but, have got nothing good to say about those who take time off their busy schedules; to come help them out, when they no more know to whom they may look up to. We weren’t there to terrorise or jeopardise the livelihood of any individual but to solve the mystery which had most if not all of us scratching our heads. Our knocks on our door were persistent and this I guess, startled a bemused toddler, who by the look of things, had no one to look after her, or friends to speak to in her moment of need, boredom which requires any man to be able have someone to talk can to.

It was nearly ten at night when she slipped her tiny little hand of a front door’s handle and looked at us without saying a word. Like answers to her all would-be questions were candidly written all over our faces. I didn’t what pain we were about to cause her if we went on with our plan to go after the truth without thinking much about how that would later make her feel. Bad was what I knew she would after we had dug down deep into the walls of her elder's palace.

I didn’t plan to cut corners by writing unsubstantiated untruths like wet behind the ears journos always do. Only for them to be summoned before the press ombudsman and asked to explain how they came up to a certain conclusion without validating their truths first.

Out of nowhere, her seemingly irate father pounced on our cameraman and broke our recently bought expensive modern video recorder. After that had happened we felt we had no option but to carefully retreat to our crew vehicle which though he continuously pelted with all sorts of missiles, missed.

He got charged with not only breaking our video recorder but with other misdemeanors which includes him trying his best to defeat the ends of justice. I hoped that if he could ever be given bail, all of the state witnesses will have by then, been provided with a decent shelter away from his fierce tongue. When he appeared before the judge I had also hoped that he would show remorse for the crimes he committed while claiming to be a man of honour. Who never minced his words when it came to men who abused their women and kids.

We all aren’t perfect in this life or are we?