Mr Contraband | The Ink Well Creative Nonfiction Prompt #72

Andrea Puacquadio

One thing I like to engage myself with is to laugh or look for a place where I can calm my nerves with a lot of laughter. This life is filled with such experiences that make a man get depressed or even think that life is not worth living. This is the reason I always ensure I have a good state of mind no matter what comes my way. At other times, I take the responsibility of amusing people too.

Some years ago, my friends and I went on a journey four states away from home. One of us was getting married. So, we went to pay the necessary marital rites. After four hours of driving, we got to a place in the middle of a thick forest where we were stopped by the military men who had mounted roadblocks every two kilometres

Can I have your driver's licence and the papers of the car?

The corporal who flagged us down demanded. Phils, the driver of the car reached for his licence and checked the locker on the dashboard for the papers.

He looked at the papers and the licence then asked all four occupants of the car to alight.
We obeyed. The young corporal spoke like someone from the northern part of the country with some heavy tribal marks on his cheeks.

I was the first to alight. The military men, once in uniform and wielding ammunition can be very unruly. I don't want any of their troubles. Like a sheep that was being led to the slaughterhouse, I stepped out of the car. Then, the corporal was joined by another of his colleagues. They searched the trunk of the car.

My bag was the first to be searched.

Who get this bag? (Whose bag is this?)

The corporal called. My heart skipped for a moment as he lifted my bag. I didn't think twice before lifting my hands

Come here.

He ordered. In my head, many thoughts rammed, making me confused about all that was happening.

I rose to meet him at the car trunk.

Why you dey sweat like say you do bad (why are you sweating like someone caught in an evil act?)

I could not respond to the question. I just moved closer to him, perhaps he has one or two questions to ask me.

Wetin dey inside that jean pocket? (What do you have in your jeans pocket?)

Stammering, I intended to answer him but the words refused to form in my mouth.

C-con-condom.

He looked at me with a smile and said to my ears like someone who was trying to keep a secret.

Why did you come shout nah? (Why did you have to shout your response?)

I dipped my hand into the jeans pocket and brought a roll of condoms. He wasn't expecting me to do that. I thought that would satisfy his curiosity. But it dammed his desires.

Drop it there.

He asked me to drop the roll of condoms as if they were contraband. I was angry but I dare not show my grievance.
As we were taking too long, the reader of the team appeared in the scene and asked.

Officer! Why are you delaying these young men?

At this point, I felt that it is possible to be humorous.

Sir, he found what seemed like contraband in my luggage.

The senior officer turned to me and said:

Where is the contraband?

I turned to the car trunk and lifted up the roll of condoms.

When did this become a contraband?

The senior officer shouted at the corporal.

Release them now!

When I looked at the eyes of the corporal, I read rage. Without mincing words, I rushed into the car as my other friends joined in, then we zoomed off.

We were all silent for a moment until Azubuike voiced out with a long laughter:

Mr contraband.

Everyone turned in my direction. Why did you ever think of such humour? You endangered our lives, Emeka said, joining the conversation.

From that day, I was named Mr Contraband.

The funny part of the whole story is that when we reached our destination, the condoms were not complete. About five pieces had gone missing.

That corporal must have done justice to the missing pieces.

That name has since stuck with me.