LAGOS TO LONDON
Ping pong. The attendant voice rang out. It was soft and soothing like a chill drink in a hot sun...
'Welcome to the Heathrow Airport. Sorry about the bumpy landing.
It’s not the captain’s fault. It’s not the co-pilot’s fault. It’s the Asphalt.
Please remain seated until the plane is parked at the gate...
It was followed by a sigh of relief from the entire passenger whose breath were held in great fear as the plane bumped against the clouds, coupled with the flashes of thunder threatening to break it into shreds and then punctuating it with a bumpy landing.
He shifted uncomfortable in his seat. There were mean sharp pains piercing in his belly. Sweats pervaded his face like rain on windshield. His eyes were dilating. He held his belly and prayed silently. The voice of the old Briton next to him who never seems to stop prattling throughout the flight about plane crashes and stormy weather, sounded afar off in his ears. They were like faint distant voice modulating into thin, loud and guttural tones.
'Are you okay...hey...Jidey...hey:.
When the door slammed hard on the frame, he knew he was in big trouble. The bulky man, Bigfish who just entered made his intestine coil up like a grub salted by a kid who is fascinated by his victim's pain.
He gagged him by the throat, his teeth clenched and a mean look in his eyes.
'Where is my money', he raved, squeezing hard.
Bigfish's action took him by surprise. He tried to speak while trying to loosen the firm grip from his neck. His neck freed, he coughed as though his gullet would come right out of his mouth.
When he was able to regain himself, he pleaded for more time, explaining that the new government and its strange policies coupled with the ever increasing dollar against the naira, has affected his business and hence, he was failing in his returns.
'Go tell that to God knows who. All I want is my money...or else...I will slit your throat.'
He was foaming in the mouth when the medical team came to wheel him out of the plane. The other passengers looked on with terror in their eyes. Everyone wanted to descend the plane at once. Every minute they spend in it is bent on endangering their lives even further. They had survived the fear-filled flight and the landing. Now a young healthy looking Nigerian man began foaming in the mouth.
Every seconds that passes drags him deeper into the threshold of death. He never envisaged that this could happen. At most, he would have touched Heathrow, take a while to find the delivery man who would be waiting for him, empty it from his bowel, deliver it, collect his pay and be gone to Nigeria with a large money that will give him a fresh start.
Before everything became blank , his mind went to the things that transpired before.
He had unburdened his mind to his friend who proposed that he could get paid to deliver a package to someone in London. They were going to get him a passport and a visa. His job was to make the journey for them. Each successful trip meant a lot of money. He would settle his debt and still have enough money to live your life in pleasure.
'It is not so difficult', his friend Banky assured him. It will be wrapped properly...you just swallow it. When you get there. Our partner will be waiting for you. They will help you empty it out of your bowel. When that is done, you get paid and everybody is happy.'
Throughout the night his mind wrestle with the dangerous job. What if something goes wrong? What if the machine detects he has something in his system? Or the package bursts in his belly? There was Bigfish's money to think about. His threats. Bigfish is not somebody to be taken for granted. Time was running out on him. If he failed this time, he was already a dead man. Bigfish will not listen to excuses. But, a man can only die once...
The sharp pains began just at the same time the plane taxied on the asphalt. His first impulse was water which he gulped down at once. Rather than relieve him, the water seems to aggravate his condition. It felt like fire burning his intestine or like acid melting everything. His legs became weak. His eyes too are getting dim and blurring everything his eyes touch. When the pain continued, he knew the worst had happened. How was he going to explain what 50grams of cocaine was doing inside him? Perhaps, if the flight had not been delayed in Lagos until the weather was favourable, he would most certainly make it. Now, all that is not going to happen, what is left is to reconcile with his maker whom he was sure to meet.
He was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. When the doctor cut him up to ascertain the cause of death for them to file a proper report, the found cocaine in his stomach. The heat in his abdomen was too much so the cocaine ruptured.
THE END.
Acknowledgement
Welcome to the Heathrow Airport. Sorry about the bumpy landing.
It’s not the captain’s fault. It’s not the co-pilot’s fault. It’s the Asphalt.
Please remain seated until the plane is parked at the gate...
The statement above was culled from :
https://aviationhumor.net/the-best-flight-attendant-announcements-before-and-after-takeoff-and-after-landing/
The original name of airport is San Francisco International Airport but I have changed it to suit my purpose.
Thank you for stopping by. Do have a lovely week. I am Yours Truly,
Julius Topohozin.
