Treasure by Oyinkan Braithwaite


Treasure by Oyinkan Braithwaite (Hush collection)
English | 2020| Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 2.9 MB

Treasure is a wannabe Instagram influencer in Lagos, Nigeria. She shows off a luxurious life in a gated community that her almost five thousand followers can only dream of. @Sho4Sure is determined to be part of it. The macho mechanic is Treasure’s number one fan, and double taps and blushing emojis are no longer enough. He needs to meet her in the flesh. If only Treasure were more prepared for destiny.

They head to the bungalow. The door is slightly ajar, and the police uncle is in his chair, snoring with his mouth wide open. A fly sits comfortably on his fat lower lip. The rifle is on the stool beside him. Sammy tiptoes over and carries the weapon away.

They are gone just before Sammy’s aunty returns to ask her husband what he wants to eat.

Everything is going well.

“Fate,” Sammy offers.

“Yes, fate.”

They take his okada; Sammy sits behind him. The wind is whipping them both. He may not have a Prado or a G-Wagon, but he has freedom. The cars are piled up on Falomo Bridge, inching along, unable to stretch their engines, unable even to dodge the traffic, but he, in his old scratched-up okada, is weaving in between them, leaving them and the murals of the missing Chibok girls behind.

It takes only forty minutes to get there. It is not so far. Pious Estate rises up before them. It is surrounded by cement walls shutting him off from Treasure. They remain seated on the okada and observe. Cars go in and out of the estate through wide black gates, which are opened and shut by security men.

They watch a Jeep Cherokee drive up to the gate. Sammy whistles. The windows are tinted, but the man in the back has rolled one down and is shouting at one of the security men. They can hear him from where they are, parked beside a palm tree. He is threatening to call this person and that person.

“I have told this imbecile that I am heading to house 2B on Pure Drive, and he is asking me stupid questions.”

The voices of the security men are low, but he can tell from their gestures that they are trying to calm the rich man down. This may be the time to enter the estate, while they are distracted.

“And I have explained to you people already that my phone is dead,” the rich man bellows.

The people who enter the estate on foot appear to have IDs. They will need IDs. There are too many people coming in and out each day for the security men to be familiar with all the faces; he is sure of it.

He sees two men exit together. They are construction workers who have spent the better part of the day building another man’s house. They are probably already dreaming of the food they will eat when they get home.

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