Hello, Vagina

The fuss did not die down until a dark SUV rolled up at the head of a noisier train of various vehicles, all bearing the campaign posters of Teejay. When the SUV crawled to a stop behind the ice cream truck, a tall imperial figure with heavy biceps and wide shoulders was ushered out by a team of thugs all stepping on each other’s toes to pay homage. This was Teejay the Don Dada, who was rumoured to be a personal friend of the Jagaban himself, Asiwaju Tunubu, the politically omnipotent and national leader of the All People’s Congress (APC). With one wave of his hand the tumultuous rancour around died to a whimper. Even the ice cream truck cut its loud and harsh PA off. About ten lieutenants, all armed to the teeth, surrounded their boss. Moses watched them with aggressive disdain. His wife was nowhere to be seen, but his daughter Kelechi stood behind him. She had managed to draw him to the doorway into the building where he stopped, refusing to retreat further. That was where and when Teejay saw her for the first time; defiant, her eyes burning with rage at the more powerful forces arraigned against her father.