Solomon came awake, slowly at first, and then as though realizing that he was in an unfamiliar environment, his eyelids snapped open, blinking repeatedly as his mind adjusted to the strange room. Everything began to piece together. He had slept on the couch in the living room where he had passed out, tired, last night. The chilly air that wafted in through the open balcony smelt heavy with the same brand of cigarette that had hit his nostrils yesterday as soon as he had stepped out of the Istanbul Ataturk Airport building. Obviously, that was the smell of Istanbul, and everybody seemed to carry it about them.
Istanbul! Yes, he was here finally, he said to himself, but the smile froze on his face. Gone was the euphoria of yesterday that came with the realization that he had at last succeeded in leaving Nigeria for good. Finally, I don japa he had posted on his Facebook page, accompanying it with a photo of himself at the airport after being cleared by Immigration. He was yet to attend to the flood of comments that the post garnered immediately.
Propping himself to a sitting position, he heaved a sigh as he took in the sight of the living room with its sparse decor. The empty bottles of beer from last night littered the small centre table and the floor around it, a reminder of the little welcome that Chido and his flatmate, Ejiro, had given him. But now, the flat was still and quiet except for the occasional honk or rev of a car engine from the narrow street below.
What now? Solomon asked himself. There was no plan for the day, and meanwhile, Chido was probably still asleep or he may have gone out already, to work or elsewhere. Getting off the couch, Solomon made for his luggage set aside to one part of the living room. He got out his toothbrush from the small zipper on his knapsack he got out his toothbrush and left in the direction where he calculated that the bathroom would be.
It was a surprisingly spacious bathroom equipped with a shower and modern toilet facilities. In the bathroom mirror, he regarded himself, observing how tired he looked from the trip of yesterday during which he had worried over so many things including the possibility of missing his connecting flight in Dubai or being turned back by immigration at Istanbul. At the airport in Nigeria, the immigration officers had fleeced him and the flight attendants had made insinuations that made him fear that he would not be allowed to board. He had parted with some money and everything had been alright between him and them afterwards.
Pressing some toothpaste onto his brush, he smiled to himself, told himself that he had made it, and then turning the faucet on, he slurped some water into his mouth, spat it out, wetted the toothpaste on his brush and then began to brush. An approaching presence in the bathroom made him turn to see Chido stifling a yawn as he came through the open door.
“Bros, good morning,” Solomon greeted.
“Why you leave the tap on like that?” Chido asked, sounding serious. “This place no be Naija o. Them dey bill you as this water dey rush so.”
“Sorry,” Solomon said, hastily turning off the faucet and continuing with his brushing while ignoring the splashing sound that was Chido peeing into the toilet.
Presently, Solomon finished in the bathroom and returned to the living room to find Ejiro lounging in one of the sofas and smoking a stick of cigarette that Solomon would have thought to be a weed but for the coffee flavour which he considered repugnant. He threw Ejiro a greeting to which he nodded his acknowledgement and then threw his head back to blow out a stream of smoke. Chido joined them at the moment, taking a seat on the sofa across from Ejiro.
“Solo,” he said. “Make you sidon, I want reason you something.”
There was no mistaking the hint of urgency in Chido’s tone even though he tried to hide it, and this made Solomon’s heart skip a beat. He took a seat, toothbrush in hand. “First of all, welcome to Istanbul, Turkey.” Solomon thought to mutter a ‘thank you’ but he was not sure that it came out alright. “So now, you don come, wetin be your arrangement?”
Solomon opened his mouth but his mind was too jumbled to hazard a reply. “I … I no know as e dey be. I don come make una carry me along.”
Chido chuckled. “Bros, no be so. Na Istanbul be this. Nobody dey carry anybody along. Na one one leg wey everybody take stand for this town. As e be like this now, person no dey know another person house. Na for outside wey men dey meet to coordinate business, after business finish, all man go find their way. Na special grace wey I give you so, to bring you come my crib make you sleep for one night before you find your way. After all, me and you no get any arrangement. The only arrangement wey we get na to arrange visa for you and I don do am. My work suppose don finish.”
Solomon held back the tears of frustration that stung his eyes but he couldn’t stop the tightening knot in the pit of his stomach. He looked to Ejiro who carried on with his smoking, unmoved by the discussion going on around him.
“Chido,” Solomon said, hoping that his voice didn’t betray him. “Abeg na, no do me this kind thing. Remember as we take sabi from Obigbo. Na brothers we be o. I no get another person for this place.”
“Chido, abeg make I stay here small so that una go carry me along.”
With that Chido got up and left, scratching his crotch. Ejiro lit up another cigarette and smoked on. Disoriented and fidgety, Solomon beat around for his phone on the sofa. Good a thing the battery had not died out. He would have to talk to someone back home before he lost his mind, but upon opening up his messenger app, there were lots of messages waiting to be read, all of them from friends and relatives congratulating him on successfully leaving Nigeria and expressing hope in being privileged to be like him soon.
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