Virgin Village Girl Was Kissed By A Stranger, Unaware He Is A Billionaire CEO

Chamakan Wango stood in front of her parents’ compound in Karu, holding her wedding dress in a plastic bag.

Her hands were shaking slightly.

Her eyes were fixed on the man she was supposed to marry in 3 days, and the woman standing behind him with her arm wrapped around his like she owned it.

“Ikenna, >> say what you came to say,” >> Chemaka said quietly.

“Say what you came to say.

” Ikenna Obi adjusted his expensive blue suit and cleared his throat like a man who had rehearsed this moment in front of a mirror.

>> I’ve thought about this carefully.

>> We are not the same people we were 3 years ago.

I have grown.

You have not.

The truth is you are not the kind of woman who can stand beside the man I am becoming.

Mazameo stood in the doorway of the compound in his faded brown wrapper and singlet.

His face did not move.

His wife, Mama Goi, stood beside him with her arms folded across her chest.

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IA kept talking.

I came here today not to marry you.

I came here to tell you that I am going to the marriage registry this afternoon, but not with you.

with her.

The woman on his arm smiled a slow poisonous smile.

Her name was Fle Adisagna and she was 23 years old.

>> She wore a tight red dress and makeup that took an hour to apply.

>> Good morning, Mangoi.

Folk said, forcing a small laugh.

I know this is awkward, but please try to understand.

Love doesn’t ask for permission.

Mama Goi did not answer her.

Mamong Gozi only looked at her daughter.

Chimaka’s face did not crack.

Not yet.

Kenna, Chimaka said, her voice steady.

>> I gave you three years of my life.

>> I gave you three years of my life.

>> My family welcomed you.

>> My family welcomed you when you had nothing.

>> My mother cooked for you every Sunday.

>> My father, >> she paused, glanced at Mazia Maker, then continued.

My father even promised to help your company.

And this is how you repay us? Hannah laughed a short mean laugh.

>> Your father’s promise is worth nothing.

>> Let me be honest with all of you.

>> The only reason I stayed with Shamaka for 3 years was because she was willing to spend money on me.

She paid for my transport.

She bought my clothes.

She even paid part of my rent when my salary was small.

I was patient.

I was tolerating her because I thought her family had something to give.

But now the Adisagna family is preparing to invest 100 million naira into my consulting firm.

Your daughter from Karu is no longer worthy of me.

Mama Nang and Goi made a sound that was not quite a word.

Mazamea stepped forward slowly.

Ikenna obi the old man said quietly.

Stop your mouth.

>> Ia turned to him with fresh mockery.

Papa with all respect don’t embarrass yourself today.

I have no time for old men in faded rappers.

Mazamecha ignored the insult.

He reached into the inner pocket of his rapper and pulled out a phone.

A cheap phone, the kind of phone people buy for 5,000 naira at any roadside stall.

Send the notice, Maza Maker said into the phone.

The 100 million naira investment into OB consulting.

Cancel it immediately.

Yes, cancel everything.

Henna froze.

What? Mazamea did not look at him.

He kept speaking into the phone.

Also, blacklist the company.

Anyone who does business with Obi Consulting from today is no longer welcome in our network.

Issue the order now.

He hung up.

Folicare burst into laughter.

Loud theatrical laughter.

Uh-uh.

Ikenna, are you hearing this man? He is saying he was going to give you 100 million naira.

This old man, have you ever heard of something so funny in your life? These people are mad.

They have been driven mad by their own poverty.

They are trying to scare us with money they have never seen.

>> recovered and laughed too.

Old man, who are you deceiving? Do you know the kind of family I come from? Do you dare to impersonate the Nanquo family? You people are just delusional.

A poor family from Karu trying to act like they have power.

Maza Maker said nothing.

He already said what he needed to say.

Daughter, he said gently to Chimaka, don’t be angry.

Daddy will defend you today.

Chimaka’s eyes filled with tears for the first time, but she blinked them back quickly.

She would not cry in front of this woman.

She would not give Folk the satisfaction.

“Look at him,” Folle said, pointing at Mazia and laughing.

“Look at his phone.

2,000 Naira phone, and he is pretending to be a rich man.

” She turned to Chaka.

“Poor girl, you should thank me.

I have freed you from false dreams.

Go and find a bus conductor or better still find that security guard next door.

I’m sure you two can build a beautiful poor life together.

She laughed again.

Jamaka’s hand tightened around the plastic bag holding her wedding dress.

A voice came from behind the low fence that separated the Noanquil compound from the next compound.

That’s enough.

Everybody turned.

A man in a dark blue security guard’s uniform was standing at the edge of the compound with a mop in one hand and a bucket of water in the other.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, his boots were dusty.

His face was calm, but his eyes were not.

He sat down the bucket.

He walked through the gate.

Kenna stared at him with fresh irritation.

“Who is this one?” “I’m the security guard from next door,” the man said quietly.

“And what you’re doing here is not okay.

” Akenna laughed harder than he had laughed all morning.

A security guard is correcting me.

A mopping boy.

Get back to your compound before I slap that face of yours.

The man did not move.

He just stood there.

His name was Tund Bakar.

He was 31 years old.

He was wearing a 5,000 Naira security guard uniform over a body that had not done physical labor in 9 years.

3 weeks ago, he had been sitting in his penthouse in Echo Atlantic, Lagos, looking out over the ocean and feeling nothing.

He had two engagements that had ended badly.

A third woman had walked out on him the moment she discovered his company had a temporary cash flow problem, a problem he had invented to test her.

After the third one left, he had sat in his penthouse all night and made a decision.

He was going to disappear for a while.

He was going to find out what the world looked like when nobody knew his name.

The next morning, he had called his head of operations and said, “Find me a small compound in Abuja that needs a security guard.

Something quiet, nothing fancy.

” 3 days later, Tund Bakar, the founder and CEO of Bkari Industries, a conglomerate valued at over $2.

4 $4 billion, had taken a bus to Abuja, put on a security guard’s uniform, and started cleaning a compound in Karu for 45,000 naira a month.

Nobody knew.

Nobody suspected.

And this morning, while he was mopping the front of his employer’s compound, he had heard a man’s voice from next door telling a woman she was not good enough, and something inside him had said, “No, not today.

Not to this woman.

” He had put down the mop and walked through the gate.

Apologize to her, Tundai said quietly.

Ikenna stepped forward with fake confidence.

You think because you have big shoulders, you can intimidate me.

I am a businessman.

I wear suits.

You wear a security guard uniform.

Do you know what we call people like you? We call you servants.

Now get out of my face before I forget.

I am a gentleman.

Apologize to her.

Tunda repeated.

His voice did not rise.

It did not need to.

There was something in the steadiness of it that made Folk take half a step backward without realizing she had moved.

Kenna noticed his laugh was thinner this time.

Folk, let’s go.

I don’t argue with mop boys.

He grabbed her hand.

They turned toward the gate.

Akenna paused at the gate.

He turned back to shout one last insult.

Chamaka, marry the security guard.

The two of you deserve each other.

Sweep the streets together and count your kobos.

>> Count your kobos.

>> They left.

The gate clanged shut.

The yard was silent.

Chamaka did not move for a long moment.

Then she crossed the yard slowly and stopped in front of Tundday.

What is your name? She asked.

Tundday.

Tundday.

Thank you.

>> What’s your name >> for what you just did? It was kind.

>> Thank you, Tundai.

>> It was nothing, Ma.

>> It was kindness.

>> It wasn’t nothing.

It was kindness.

And kindness from a stranger on a morning like this is the biggest thing in the world.

>> She looked at him for a long moment.

Then she said something that made her mother drop the cloth she had been holding.

>> Tund, do you have a wife? >> No.

Ma, >> a girlfriend? >> No.

Ma, are you a good man? >> I try to be.

>> Will you marry me? >> Will you marry me? Tunder blinked.

He was a man who had negotiated billion naira deals without flinching, but the question from this woman in a blue dress holding a wedding dress and a plastic bag made him completely quiet.

>> Ma, I don’t understand.

I am serious, Tund.

I don’t want to play with you.

I want to marry you today, right now.

We can go to the marriage registry together.

I know it sounds crazy, but that man who just left told me I am worthless.

And I have decided that I will not spend even one more hour being called worthless by anyone.

I saw what you did.

You walked into a stranger’s compound to defend a stranger.

No man has ever done that for me, not even the man I was supposed to marry in 3 days.

So I am asking you >> not because I love you.

I don’t know you but because you look like the kind of man who would make a woman feel safe and I am tired of being afraid.

Tundday stared at her.

Mama Engoi made another small sound but this time it was something close to a laugh.

Mazi was smiling a small private smile that no one noticed.

Tundday looked at the woman standing in front of him.

A woman he had known for less than 5 minutes.

A woman whose entire morning had just been destroyed.

A woman who despite all of it was still standing straight with her chin up.

He thought about his mother in Ibadan.

His mother who had told him before she died that the right woman would love him when he had nothing.

He thought about his penthouse in Echo Atlantic.

He thought about the three women who had walked away when they thought his money was drying up.

>> He looked at Chiamaka and he made a decision that would shock everyone he knew.

>> “Yes,” Tundai said.

Maman Goi dropped her cloth for the second time.

Mazya’s smile became slightly larger.

Chimaka’s eyes filled with tears, not of sadness this time, and she turned to her parents.

“Mama, daddy, we’re going to the registry.

” Mama Gozi recovered quickly.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

My daughter, are you mad? You are marrying a man you met 2 minutes ago.

Yes, mama.

You don’t know him.

You don’t know his family.

You don’t know.

Mama, Chiaka said quietly.

I knew I for 3 years and I still didn’t know him.

Sometimes time doesn’t teach you anything.

Sometimes one moment tells you everything.

Mama Nang Gozi opened her mouth to argue.

Then she closed it.

She looked at Tundi.

She looked at him for a long time.

Then she walked forward and took his hands in her own.

“Tundday,” she said quietly.

“Listen to me very carefully.

My daughter has had the worst morning of her life.

She is making a decision that could destroy her or save her.

I don’t know which one it is yet.

But I want you to understand something.

If you are not the man you appear to be, if you have come into our lives to hurt her, I will find you.

I am 60 years old.

I have nothing to lose.

I will find you and I will make you wish you had never walked through that gate this morning.

Do you understand me? Tundday met her eyes.

He did not blink.

Mama, I understand and I promise you on the life of my own mother in Ibadan.

I am exactly the man I appear to be.

I will not hurt your daughter.

Mama Goi searched his face for a long time.

Then she nodded.

Come, let us go to the registry.

Mazamecha spoke for the first time.

I will come too.

I want to see what this young man’s signature looks like.

They went to the marriage registry in a Danfo, a yellow rattling crowded Danfo from Karu to central area.

>> Tundday insisted on paying the fair because he said he could not allow his new father-in-law to pay on his wedding day.

Maza did not argue.

He only smiled that small private smile again.

At the registry, the clerk, a tired woman who had seen many strange things in her career, processed the forms with bored efficiency.

Names: Chamaka, Ada, Orano, Tund Olui, Bakar.

Witnesses.

Mazi, Amecha, and Mama Anggoi raised their hands.

Sign here and here and here.

They signed.

11 minutes later, they walked out of the registry as husband and wife.

On the steps of the registry, Tund turned to Chamaka and held up the marriage certificate.

“Wife,” he said carefully, trying the word.

“Husband,” she said.

“Where do we go now?” “I have a small flat in Karu.

We can stay there for now.

” “I have staff quarters next door to your parents.

We will figure out the rest together.

” Mangoi insisted on cooking yolof rice to welcome her new son-in-law.

They went back to the compound.

While the rice was cooking, Tundai quietly stepped outside to make a phone call.

He walked three blocks away.

He pulled out a second phone from inside his boot.

Not the basic phone he had been carrying.

>> A different phone, a very expensive phone that he had hidden at the bottom of his security guard uniform.

>> I am.

>> He dialed the number.

A man picked up on the first ring.

>> Boss.

>> Emma, listen to me carefully.

I’ve gotten married this morning.

There was a long silence on the other end.

Boss, say that again.

>> I got married to a young woman named Chaka No from Ku.

This is not a joke.

I need you to pause the disguise operation immediately.

I am still going to live in the staff quarters for now.

She thinks I am still a security guard.

I’m going to tell her the truth very soon, but not yet.

I want to see a few more things first.

Boss, are you sure about this? You don’t know this woman.

Emma, I know enough.

I will explain later.

For now, I need three things from you.

One, transfer $5 million to my discretionary account.

I may need it soon.

Two, have the penthouse in my tama prepared.

I may bring her there this week.

Three, send someone to quietly find out everything about Akenna Obi and Obi Consulting.

I want his entire business destroyed by tomorrow morning.

Boss, who is Akenna Obi? The man who broke my wife’s heart this morning.

Emma paused.

Understood, boss.

Tundai ended the call.

He put the phone back into the hidden compartment in his boot.

>> Copy that.

>> He walked back to the compound.

He sat at the small wooden table beside his new wife and ate jolof rice and listened to Mama and Goi talk about how she had been cooking this particular recipe for 40 years and how the secret was patience and palm oil from a specific woman in Lugby market.

That night in the small flat in Karu, Jamaaka put a mattress on the floor of the sitting room for Tundi and said, Good night.

>> Until we know each other better, you will sleep here.

I hope you understand.

Tundai smiled.

I understand.

Good night, Tund.

Good night, Chamaka.

She went into the bedroom.

She closed the door.

She lay on her small bed in the dark and thought about the day.

She had been publicly humiliated by her ex- fiance.

She had asked a stranger to marry her.

She had gotten married in a registry with her parents as witnesses.

And she had come home to eat jolof rice with a husband she had known for 6 hours.

Before she went to sleep, she reached under her pillow and pulled out something she had not told anyone about.

A small black card.

A global sovereign black card.

The kind of card that was issued to fewer than 200 people in the entire world.

She had been carrying it in the lining of her bag for 2 years.

Because Chiamaka Ada Orura Noango was not a poor girl from Karu.

Her father Mazi Ema Noango.

The old man in the faded rapper with the basic phone was one of the wealthiest indigenous businessmen in Nigeria worth more than $4.

6 billion.

And he kept his profile so low that most people in Nigeria did not know his face even when they read his name in the financial pages.

Two years ago, Jimaka had told her father she was tired of being introduced to men who looked at her as an investment.

Her father had agreed.

>> Go.

He had told her live among regular people.

Find out who you are when nobody knows your name.

Come back when you have an answer.

She had rented the small flat in Karu.

She had taken a job as a teaching assistant at a small primary school.

She had met Ikenna 6 months later.

He had thought she was a poor girl.

For 3 years, she had let him think it.

She had believed he was a good man who loved her for herself.

>> This morning she had discovered she was wrong.

>> Pretending.

>> She looked at the black card in her hand.

Then she slid it back into its hiding place.

In the sitting room, Tund Bakar lay on the mattress and looked at the ceiling and thought about the strangeness of the day.

He had married a woman he had known for 4 minutes.

He had told her nothing about himself.

She had told him nothing about herself.

There were two strangers lying in the same flat who had decided, for reasons neither of them fully understood, to take a chance on each other.

He closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, he thought, tomorrow I will begin the real test.

The next morning, Chamaka’s best friend, Ada Onyaki, called her on the phone.

>> Chamaka, is it true? >> Is what true? Your mother called my mother last night.

She told the entire story, the breakup, the security guard, the registry.

Please tell me your mother was drinking palm wine and confused.

Everything my mother told your mother is true.

There was a long silence.

Then Ada laughed.

Chaka Adawarano, the richest unmarried woman in the country, married a security guard in 12 minutes on a Tuesday.

Approximately yes.

Are you out of your mind? Possibly.

Are you free this afternoon? For what? I want to take my new husband to Jabby Lake Mall and buy him some clothes.

He has two changes, too.

I want to dress my husband like a husband.

Adi sighed the sigh of a woman who had been friends with Chimaka long enough to know when arguing was pointless.

Fine.

I will meet you there in 2 hours.

But Chamaka, promise me one thing.

If this man turns out to be a fraud, you will let me handle him personally.

I have my own resources.

I promise.

Two hours later, Chamaka and Tundday arrived at Jabil Lake Mall in a Danfo.

Tundai was still wearing his security guard uniform because it was the only outfit he had.

Chamaka was wearing her old blue dress.

At the entrance of the mall, Ada was already waiting.

She was wearing simple jeans and a plain t-shirt, but the jeans cost more than most people’s rent, and the t-shirt was from a designer whose name people recognized on site.

Ad looked tundday up and down once, then twice.

Then she turned to Chamaka and whispered, “Charmaka, my friend, why did you not mention that he is handsome? I didn’t think it was relevant.

Everything is relevant.

Come, let’s dress him.

” They walked into a store called the Galleria.

The kind of store where the lighting was warm, the music was soft, and the salespeople wore small earpieces and could calculate a customer’s net worth in under 4 seconds.

The salesperson who approached them was a young woman in a tight black dress.

Her name tag read Ada Obi.

She took one look at Tundai’s security guard uniform and one look at Chamaka’s old blue dress and her customer service smile froze halfway.

Can I help you? The U landed heavier than the rest of the sentence.

Yes, Jamaaka said pleasantly.

I would like to buy some clothes for my husband.

The salesperson glanced at Tundday again.

specifically at the dusty boots.

>> Of course, Ma, we have some affordable options at the back of the store.

If you would like to start there.

No, Chimaka said, “We will start with the suits at the front.

” Ma, those suits start at $1,200.

That is fine.

Each.

That is also fine.

Ma, I bring us the suits, please.

In his size, every color you have.

Adobe did not move immediately.

She stood there for a few seconds with the expression of a woman who was deciding whether to walk away and inform her manager that a couple of time wasters had entered the store.

But something in Shamaka’s voice, the particular calm of a woman who was not making a suggestion, made her turn around and walk toward the suit section.

Ada smiled privately.

Tund leaned toward Chamaka.

Wife, $1,200 is a lot of money for a suit.

Husband, you deserve a suit.

But no, but today I am dressing my husband.

You will try on every suit in the store.

What happened over the next 20 minutes was the kind of thing that in retail stores all over Nigeria produced legends.

Sheaka picked out three suits, then five, then seven, then a watch from the case beside the suits, then shoes, then belts, then shirts, then cufflinks.

The pile on the counter grew.

Adobe’s polite smile grew thinner and thinner.

Adei added items to the pile whenever she walked past.

Two other salespeople gathered quietly around the register, whispering to each other.

She is going to embarrass herself.

Look at her.

She cannot afford any of this.

Watch.

She’s going to ask for a discount and then leave.

>> Total it up for me, please, Jimaka said.

Adobe tapped her tablet.

The total appeared $24,600.

The two other salespeople stopped whispering.

Madam, Adobe said slowly.

That is $24,600.

I heard you the first time.

Process it.

Madam, do you have a way to pay? Chamaka smiled and reached into her old leather bag.

She pulled out a card, a black metal card, heavy.

the kind of card that had no numbers on the front.

Just a small holographic symbol in one corner.

Adobe took the card.

She turned it over in her fingers.

She did not recognize the symbol.

She tapped it on her terminal.

The terminal beeped.

A message appeared on the screen.

Adobi read the message.

Her face went white.

She read it again.

She looked up at Chamaka.

Madame, please, one moment.

She hurried to the back of the store.

10 seconds later, the store manager rushed out.

A man in a gray suit, middle-aged, the kind of man whose job depended on never, ever mishandling a customer like the one who had just walked into his store.

He bowed slightly before he even reached them.

Madam, madam, I am so sorry.

Please, I apologize on behalf of Adobe.

She did not recognize the card.

Please allow me to personally assist you today.

Whatever you want, I will arrange it with a 40% discount.

Please, please forgive the oversight.

Chamaka smiled politely.

It is fine.

I just want to pay and leave.

Yes, madam.

Immediately, Adobe, process the payment.

Double check everything.

Wrap the items in our premium packaging.

Call security to escort the madam to her car.

Adobe’s hands were shaking as she tapped the terminal.

The payment went through.

The manager wrapped each item personally.

He carried the bags to the front of the store himself.

He bowed twice as they left.

Tundday walked beside his new wife carrying the shopping bags and trying very hard not to show the expression on his face.

He had recognized the card immediately, a global sovereign black card.

There were fewer than 200 of them in the entire world.

He had one himself.

It was in a safe in his penthouse in Lagos.

The card was not something a poor girl from Karu would have.

It was not something even a rich girl from Abuja would have unless her family was very, very rich.

Something in his mind began to shift.

He did not say anything.

He just carried the bags.

But he filed the moment away in the part of his brain that kept track of things that did not add up.

They walked out of the galleria and into the main concourse of the mall.

They had taken about 12 steps when Shiamaka’s face went still.

Tundai followed her gaze.

Ikenna and Fake.

They were standing in front of a jewelry shop.

Folk was pointing at something inside the display case.

Ikenna was nodding.

Chamaka’s steps slowed.

Chimaka.

Adi said quietly.

We can go the other way.

The other exit is right there.

No, let’s keep walking.

They kept walking.

They almost made it.

Fleck looked up, her eyes locked on them.

Her face went through the full cycle of recognition.

Shock, then amusement, then malicious joy.

Ikenna, Ia, look who is at the mall.

Ikenna turned.

His eyes fell on Chimaka, then on Tundday in his security guard uniform, carrying expensive shopping bags, then on the shopping bags themselves, with the Galleria logo on them.

His face did the exact same cycle Fakes had done, except slower and with one additional emotion that Faulex had not included.

confusion.

Chiaaka stepped forward.

What are you doing here? This mall is not for people like you.

I am shopping.

Chamaka said, “With what money? Did you steal those bags? Did your poor security guard husband pickpocket somebody?” Fol laughed loudly.

Every shopper in the concourse turned to look.

Or, Fau said, eyes gleaming.

Did you sell yourself at the back of the mall? Is that what this is, Chamaka? Have you become a runs girl now? Is that how you bought those clothes? The laugh she gave after saying it was sharp and cruel.

>> Tundday set down the shopping bags.

>> He set them down slowly, very slowly, every motion deliberate.

He straightened.

He turned his body slightly so that he was facing Fle directly.

What did you say to my wife? His voice was quiet.

Folk’s laugh died in her.

>> What did you say to my wife? >> I was joking.

>> I was only joking to >> say it again.

Tundaka said, “Let it go.

She is not worth it.

” He did not look at his wife.

>> He was still looking at Folk and Folk, who had spent her life getting away with saying cruel things because nothing ever happened to her afterward, felt for the first time in her life the particular fear of a person who has said the wrong thing to the wrong man.

Ikenna stepped in.

>> Stay out of this security guard.

>> This is a conversation between me and my ex- fiance.

It stopped being your conversation the moment you opened your mouth about her.

And what will you do about it? Tund finally turned his head to look at Ienna.

He did not say anything.

He just looked and I despite the suit and the watch and the designer shoes took a half step backward without realizing it.

Then I saw something that made him forget everything else.

He saw a small jade pendant hanging from a chain around Chamaka’s neck.

A simple piece of jewelry, pale green, worn, the kind of thing a person might pick up at a roadside stall for a few hundred naira.

Something about it made him angry.

It made him angry because it was a thing she had before she met him and would have after he left and it reminded him that she existed without his permission.

He reached out fast.

Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed the pendant.

And what is this? Is this the cheap rubbish you have always worn? Look at this thing.

This is the real Chiaaka.

Not the fake bags.

Not the fake watch.

This plastic stone from Woos Market.

He yanked.

The chain broke.

The pendant came free in his hand.

He held it up between his thumb and finger.

Look at it.

This is what you really are.

Pretending to be rich in a borrowed watch while wearing a plastic stone around your neck.

He dropped it on the marble floor.

He stepped on it.

The stone cracked once, then again.

The pale green pendant split into three uneven pieces.

>> For one second, the entire concourse was completely silent.

Then Chiaka made a sound.

Not a scream, not a cry.

A soft, sharp intake of breath.

The sound of a woman being struck somewhere very deep.

Tund looked at her face.

He saw what was on it.

Not anger, not yet, but loss.

A very specific loss.

And then Mazamea and Mama Nang Goi walked around the corner.

They had been on their way to meet their daughter and Tundai for lunch.

They had heard Folk’s loud laugh from the food court and had come to investigate.

Mama Gozi saw her daughter’s face first.

Then she saw the broken pendant on the floor.

Then she saw the man standing over it.

She made a sound that was not a sound.

It was something older than a sound.

Mazamea did not make any sound at all.

He walked forward slowly.

He knelt on the marble floor of the mall in his faded brown wrapper.

He picked up the three pieces of the broken pendant.

He cradled them in his palm.

He stood up slowly.

He looked at Akenna.

Do you know what you just broke? A cheap stone.

Calm down, old man.

That pendant, Mazaka said quietly.

was carved by my greatgrandfather from imperial green jade, the rarest grade in the world.

It has been in my family for 102 years.

It was given to me on the day I turned 12.

I gave it to my wife on the day we were married and she gave it to my daughter on her 16th birthday.

He looked at the three pieces in his hand.

Its value at the most recent formal valuation was approximately $3 million.

The concourse went dead silent.

Akenna laughed, a nervous laugh.

You are lying, old man.

$3 million for that.

You are trying to scare me.

Mazame did not answer him.

He reached into his rapper and pulled out his cheap phone.

He dialed a number from memory.

Adimu, it is me.

Yes, I want you to destroy OB Consulting.

I don’t mean blacklist, I mean destroy.

By the end of business today, I want every contract that company holds canled, every loan called in, every supplier instructed to stop deliveries, every client informed that their contract is void, every employee paid out by tomorrow morning.

I want that company to no longer exist.

Do you understand me? Yes.

And one more thing, I want the public announcement to go out from my office tonight.

State clearly that anyone in Nigeria who continues to associate with Mr.

Ikenna Obi will be considered an enemy of my family.

Yes, use that language.

Exactly that language.

Issue it tonight.

He hung up.

He put the phone back in his rapper.

He looked at a kenna one more time.

Goodbye, young man.

He turned to Chimaka.

Come.

Mama cooks stew.

Let us eat.

He walked away.

Mang Goi gathered Chamaka under her arm and walked after him.

Tundday picked up the shopping bags.

He paused beside Ekenna for one full second.

He did not say anything.

He just looked at him with a look Akenna would remember every single night for the rest of his life.

Then Tundai walked after his wife and his in-laws.

Ikenna stood in the middle of the mall concourse with the broken pieces of the pendant scattered at his feet and Fleck’s hand still clutching his arm.

Ikenna Fle said, “What did that old man mean? He said he was going to destroy your company.

” He was bluffing.

Poor old man bluffing.

>> But Ekenna’s phone in his pocket had just started ringing >> and it would not stop ringing for the rest of the afternoon.

By 6:00 that evening, OB Consulting no longer existed.

Every contract had been cancelled.

The bank had called in two loans at once.

Three major clients had sent identical termination emails with no explanation.

The office landlord had sent a letter declaring the lease void.

The four employees had received their final salaries by bank transfer and a short note thanking them for their service.

Ikenna sat in his flat in Wua staring at his phone trying to understand how an old man in a faded rapper had dismantled a six-year-old company between lunch and dinner.

Then his cousin bio called Ikenna.

Are you watching channels TV? What? Turn it on right now.

Ikenna turned it on.

The screen showed a photograph of an elderly man in a brown rapper.

The caption read, “Chief Amecha Nuango, patriarch of Nanquo Holdings, issue statement.

” Ekenna stared at the photograph.

It was Maza.

“Ikenna,” his cousin said.

“Do you know who that man is?” “That is my ex- fiance’s father.

” “Ikenna, that is Chief Amecha Nanquo, the founder of Nanka Holdings, the third richest indigenous Nigerian.

Personal net worth estimated at $4.

6 billion.

He keeps a very low profile.

Almost nobody knows what he looks like.

He lives simply because he prefers it.

He raised his daughter quietly because he wanted her to find a man who loved her for who she was.

Silence on the line.

>> Ekenna, what did you do? Kenna did not answer.

The phone slid out of his hand.

It hit the floor.

In his sitting room, the television continued to play the official statement.

Folk, who had been standing in the kitchen doorway, watched his face carefully.

Then she took her handbag and walked out the front door.

I did not even notice she had gone.

>> The next morning, Chiamaka went to the headquarters of Bari Industries to thank young master Bakari.

She did not know that was where Tundai actually worked.

She only knew what Tundai had told her that morning.

A small lie he had planned to correct very soon.

He had said his new private employer was a young businessman named Master Bakare who owned a building in Maitama and that he would be at that building all day working as a personal security attachment.

I want to go and thank him.

Chimaka had said for what? For hiring my husband.

We are newly married.

I should meet the man you are working for.

It is the respectful thing.

Tundday had swallowed a laugh.

Okay, I will call ahead and tell him you are coming.

He had stepped outside to make the call.

The call had not been to Mr.

Bari.

It had been to his own assistant, Emma.

Emma, my wife is coming to the office.

She thinks I am a security guard working for the CEO.

She thinks the CEO is someone other than me.

Set up the following.

Tell the front desk to direct her to my office.

When she arrives, bring her up.

I will meet her at the door and pretend to be a security guard performing a routine check.

Get me an old uniform, a clipboard, and a radio.

Also, I need you to stage a fake CEO.

Get the oldest, most senior looking male executive we have.

Put him in my chair and have him pretend to be Master Bakari for 5 minutes while I figure out how to get out of this situation.

>> Emma paused.

Boss, is this really necessary? Yes.

I’m not ready to tell her the truth yet.

I want to see one more thing.

What thing? I want to see what she does when she thinks she has access to the CEO of a $2.

4 $4 billion conglomerate and her husband is a security guard.

I want to see if she uses it, if she asks for favors, if she tries to position herself.

Emma side, understood, boss.

Chamaka arrived at the headquarters of Bikari Industries at 10:30 am She walked into the lobby carrying a stainless steel flask of Jolof rice that her mother had cooked that morning.

>> She walked up to the reception desk.

>> Good morning.

I am here to see Master Bakare.

My husband Tundday works for him as a security guard attachment.

The receptionist, a young woman named Myuna, who had received very specific instructions an hour earlier, did not react visibly.

>> She smiled her professional smile.

>> Yes, ma.

Master Bikari is expecting you.

Please come with me.

” She led Shemaka into a private elevator.

They rode to the 38th floor in silence.

The elevator opened onto a quiet reception area.

Behind the reception area was a set of double doors.

The doors had no name plate.

Emma had removed it 20 minutes earlier.

Please wait here.

Ma, I will announce you.

>> My Muna walked through the doors.

A moment later, Tund stepped out wearing his old security guard uniform carrying a clipboard with a radio clip to his belt.

Wife, what are you doing up here? I came to meet Master Bakar to thank him.

Ma, he is in a meeting.

I will wait.

I brought yolof rice.

Tund blinked.

>> Yolof rice for master bkare.

Yes, it is polite.

Behind Tundday, the double doors opened.

An older man, 60, gray-haired, dressed in an expensive suit, walked out with the relaxed authority of a senior executive.

Emma had chosen him specifically because he had been the oldest vice president in the company for 15 years and had the kind of face that people instinctively associated with CEOs.

His name was Mr.

Adami.

Tundday, is this your wife? Mr.

Admi asked.

Tundday nodded stiffly.

Yes, sir.

Sir, this is Chiiamaka.

Chiiamaka.

This is Master Bakare.

>> Tiamaka stepped forward and held out the flask.

Good morning, sir.

I am Chiiamaka.

Thank you for hiring my husband.

I brought you Yoloof rice.

My mother made it this morning.

>> Mr.

Adami took the flask with the gracious politeness of a man who had not been expecting Jolof rice, but knew how to accept a gift with dignity.

>> Thank you, my daughter.

That is very kind.

Chamaka glanced at Tundday then back at Mr.

Adi.

Then she said something that surprised everyone in the room including herself.

>> Sir, I have one request.

It is small.

Mr.

Admi raised his eyebrows politely.

Yes, >> I wanted to ask if you could please give my husband a small raise.

He is a very hardworking man.

He wakes up early.

He does his job well.

I’m not asking for much, just enough to make you feel valued.

He deserves to be valued.

>> Mr.

Admy did not know what to say.

He glanced at Tundai.

>> Tundai’s face was carefully blank, but his eyes were doing something complicated.

Jamaka continued quickly before her courage ran out.

Sir, I am not asking for myself.

I am newly married.

I have my own means.

I can take care of myself.

I am asking because my husband works very hard and he has never once complained and I want him to feel respected at his job.

That is the only reason I came here today.

I will not ask you for anything else ever.

Mr.

Adry looked at Tundi again, then at Chiamaka, then at the stainless steel flask in his hands.

He cleared his throat.

My daughter, your husband’s pay will be increased.

Effective immediately, he will also be placed on a special monthly bonus.

Chamaka’s face lit up.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

You are welcome.

Now, please allow us to return to our work.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

She turned to Tundai.

She kissed him quickly on the cheek in front of his boss, which was something she had not planned to do, but which felt right.

Then she left.

Myuna escorted her back down to the lobby.

The moment the elevator door closed, Tundi turned to Mr.

Adi and said very quietly, “Sir, I need you to leave my office immediately and I need you to never speak of this day to anyone and I need you to accept the 30% raise I’m putting on your personal salary starting today as compensation for what I just put you through.

” Mister Adami smiled.

Boss, it was my pleasure.

He walked away carrying the holof rice flask and Tundday went into his office and closed the door and sat behind his desk for five full minutes without moving.

Then he pressed the intercom.

Emma, my wife just came to my office to ask the CEO for a raise for her husband.

She did not ask for anything for herself.

She did not mention money.

She did not hint at connections.

She asked for a raise for the man she thought was a poor security guard.

Boss, what do you want to do about it? Two things.

One, I’m going to give her more than she has ever imagined.

Two, I am going to hire her, not as a favor, as a real employee.

I want her on the corporate team.

She has exactly the kind of character this company needs.

Dr.

aft an offer letter.

Title her as a special projects officer.

Monthly salary, $12,000.

Tell her the position was approved by Master Bare personally after meeting her.

Emma paused.

Boss, $12,000 a month for a girl with no corporate experience.

Emma, she has the only qualification that matters.

Make the offer.

>> Yes, boss.

>> Later that afternoon, when Shamaka returned to the compound in Karu, a courier arrived with a sealed envelope for her.

Inside was an offer letter on Bakari Industries letterhead.

She read it three times.

Then she called Tundai.

Tundday, something strange just happened.

Master Bakare has offered me a job.

>> What? A job at Bakar Industries as a special projects officer.

$12,000 a month.

>> $12,000? >> Yes, Tundday.

This is too much.

Is he giving me this because of you? >> I don’t know.

>> Maybe.

I can’t accept it.

It feels like charity.

Tiamaka, listen to me.

Master Bare is the kind of man who does not give charity.

If he made you an offer, it is because he thinks you are worth the offer.

Take the job.

Are you sure? I am very sure.

She took the job.

She started the next morning.

She was given a small office two floors below Tund’s real office.

Tunda arranged for all of her tasks to be genuine work, real corporate problems that needed real solutions because he wanted to see whether her instincts were as good as her character.

vendor costs.

>> Within two weeks, he had his answer.

>> She was remarkable.

>> She identified three inefficiencies in the company’s procurement process that had been missed by three different audits.

She wrote a report that saved the company $600,000 in the first month.

She handled a delicate negotiation with a supplier in Port Harkord.

Without knowing that the supplier was secretly owned by Bkari Industries, which meant Tundai had direct visibility into how she conducted herself in professional settings, >> she conducted herself perfectly.

Tund sat in his office on the 38th floor and read her reports and watched her from a distance and fell deeper in love with her everyday.

And he still had not told her the truth.

He was waiting for the right moment.

The right moment arrived a few days later, but not in the way he expected.

A week after Chiaka started working at Bari Industries, she called a particular dealership in Maitama, Crown Auto, and asked for the manager.

>> Good morning, sir.

This is Chimaka.

I want to buy a car for my husband.

The manager on the other end of the line straightened in his chair immediately.

Yes, ma.

Which model? The limited edition S-Class.

>> I saw it in your showroom last month.

Is it still available? >> Ma, there are only three of that model in the entire country.

We have one left.

Reserve it for me.

I will come this afternoon.

Yes.

Ma, do you want us to prepare the paperwork in your name? >> Yes.

Chakao.

The manager paused.

Ma, just Chamakano, not your other name.

>> Just Chakano for today.

Yes, ma.

Understood.

Ma, Crown Auto was not a random dealership.

Crown Auto was a Nangquo Holdings subsidiary.

Chamaka owned it.

But nobody outside of her father’s inner circle knew that.

And she had been operating under her mother’s maiden surname for 2 years.

Nankqua was her mother’s family name, not her father’s, so even the staff at the dealership had only ever seen her as a silent shareholder who occasionally called to check on operations.

That afternoon, Chamaka took a taxi from Bakari Industries to Crown Auto.

She had told Tundai she was going out to run an errand.

She wanted the car to be a surprise.

She walked into the dealership in her simple workc clothes.

>> The receptionist recognized her immediately and stood up.

Madam, good afternoon.

The manager is expecting you.

This way, please.

She was led into the main showroom where a gleaming black limited edition S-Class was parked under a spotlight.

The manager hurried toward her.

Madam, everything is ready.

All we need is your signature.

The car will be delivered to whatever address you chaka.

A voice from the entrance of the dealership made everyone turn.

Fake Adisana was standing at the entrance.

Beside her was an older man in an expensive suit, 62 years old, heavy set, wearing a gold wristwatch and an expression of permanent entitlement.

His name was Director Yakabu.

He was the chairman of a midsized engineering firm in >> GI director >> and currently in the middle of what he believed was a discrete affair with Folk who had attached herself to him within 48 hours of being abandoned by Aenna.

Folk’s face lit up with malicious joy.

Look what we have here.

My darling, she said turning to director Yakubu.

Look at this.

Do you see this woman? This is the poor girl I was telling you about.

Chiaaka, the one whose security guard husband thinks he is somebody.

Director Yakabu laughed a deep indulgent laugh.

Ah, >> this is her.

Yes, darling.

And now she is in a Mercedes dealership pretending she can afford a car.

Jamaaka, are you here to clean the showroom floor? Chimaka did not react.

She just looked at Fol Lake steadily.

The manager of the dealership stepped forward.

Madame Folk, is there a problem? >> I want that car.

Fake said pointing at the limited edition S-Class.

My darling will buy it for me.

>> Today, right now.

>> I am sorry, madam, but that car has been reserved.

By who? By, Jamaka raised her hand slightly and the manager stopped mid-sentence.

By a customer, the manager said carefully.

A customer? What kind of customer? Is it her? Faux Lake pointed at Chimaka and laughed.

That one reserving a limited edition Mercedes.

Is this a comedy show? Director Yakabu stepped forward with the calm swagger of a man who had spent 40 years believing money was the answer to every question.

Manager, how much is that car? >> That’s a joke, >> sir.

The price is $180,000.

>> I will pay 200,000 cash right now.

>> Fake squealled, >> my darling.

Maka looked at director Yakabu with polite interest.

“Sir,” she said quietly, “the car is reserved for me.

I have already committed to the purchase.

” “Young woman,” Director Yakabu said, turning his head slightly to look at her as if she were a small insect that had spoken unexpectedly.

“I do not think you understand.

I am offering more than the sticker price.

The dealership will prefer my offer.

Please go and find another car.

There are many cars in the showroom.

Perhaps one of the small ones over there in the corner.

Something more appropriate for a woman of your means.

Tiamaka smiled.

Sir, I’m going to buy this car.

I have already committed to the purchase.

Is that so? Then let us see who really has the money to pay.

I will offer $250,000.

The manager’s head turned back to Chamaka.

$300,000, Chiaka said calmly.

Folk’s mouth fell open.

Director Yakabu’s eyes narrowed.

>> 400,000.

500,000.

Chimaka said.

600,000.

$1 million.

The manager went very still.

The other staff in the showroom stopped pretending not to listen.

Director Yakubu stared at her.

You do not have $1 million.

Is there a higher offer, sir? Chamaka asked the manager.

No, madam.

then process the sale at $1 million.

Wait, director Yakabu said $1,500,000.

Fake grabbed his arm.

Yes, darling.

Outbid her.

Show her.

$2 million.

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