I was starved.
Stopped at Black Bell on Admiralty way in Lekki to buy lunch.
While I stood and ordered at the hot table in which an array of food was spread out behind a glass casing, I heard someone shout my name.
Idada!
I turned around.
It took me a moment to recognise him.
He was so much fresher than I had known.
A Zikite at the University of Ibadan that now looked like a million dollars.
Well fed, richly coiffed and debonair.
It was a reunion of hugs and pleasantries.
45 mins later we sat talking and eating.
He didn't hide the fact that he was married with four kids.
And rich.
When I asked him what he did he said... Business.
But as we talked and talked, and he relaxed, he inadvertently began talking about the dangers of doing business in Nigeria.
And as he did, the lady who had served us came upstairs to collect the money for the meals.
I offered to pay and brought out cash from my wallet.
He intervened.
"Don't pay cash, use your card."
I looked at him in concern and asked.
"Why?"
"Just use your card, I will explain later."
I did as he said.
After the lady had learnt he explained.
In a conspiratorial tone.
Voice hushed as though the walls were listening.
"... all you need is for anyone who you know has money to give you money. I mean someone who has real money. Hot dough. They have to give it to you from their own pocket or wallet with their hand. Not bank transfer or even cheque. The actual cash from their hand into yours. Once I can get that. Then it is finished. I know a Baba who I take that money to and that person will keep giving money until their money is finished. Anything I ask for, they will give. Like that o. Forget it Jude, Naija is not smiling..."
Lagos.