Sorosoke (Episode Two): Fireworks

 Sorosoke (Episode Two): Fireworks

At Lekki Toll Gate, We Found Love, Sex And…

By Ikenna Amadi

The air froze, beats paused, gyrations crippled, liguored scents strayed, hemp smoke blurred the night, as the whole atmosphere was tensed. I could feel my heartbeat sing jazz from afar, as my legs shook with fear, while my palms soaked.

There was an abrupt silence around the toll gate which crippled my heart, as my heart raced in deep fear of the unexpected, while Zulu held my hands, with his eyes searching for an unforseen enemy. He was scared!

Then it happened, just like a well reahearsed orchestra, bang, bang, bang, there was a huge cry of excitement which defeaned the abrupt silence again. The beats blared with more vigour as life smiled back at the toll gate.

“Haaa, that got me. Who pulled that stunt?!” Zulu asked excitedly. I was speechless, as my brains tried to send messages.

We all heard gunshots, silence, then gunshots again, excitements like nothing ever happened and the beats from the makeshift stage made my heartbeat sound like a thud.

“Sorosoke!!!! They must listen to us. They messed with the wrong people!!!” David, Olivia’s partner screamed as they joined us.

“Was that gunshot” Olivia asked. I could see a tint of fear in her brown eyes, those eyes which sparkled with life, dimmed in fear, as she tried to mask her creeping fear.

Her eyes gave her out.

“No, that was firework. These guys have mad concept, this protest is the real deal. The world is here.” Zulu beamed in excitement as he shared more drinks with guys who trooped in.

Olivia’s eyes looked dim, as she stared at me. I avoided gazes like that, especially hers. They sent signals down spine, you could feel her raw emotion, as her brownish eyes were my mirror, they reflected a feeling.

“Fireworks, just fireworks” I soothed Olivia, while she stared at me with an iota of disbelief. We were made to believe it was fireworks and not gunshots, only if they knew.


The protests at the Lekki tollgate gathered momentum every day, it became the home of almost all youths in Lagos, as a protest community was created. It turned out to be a mini-republic.

By dawn, youths would clean up trashes and debris from previous day, trucks offloaded materials used and reloaded new ones, market sellers bubbled with their groundnuts, snacks, flags, drinks, that kept the toll moving, smiles painted the faces of youths round the clock at the toll, as it reminded me of pictures seen during Independence day.

Every second, selfies, videos were taken by youths, and the next minute it became a trend on Twitter, the atmosphere was gripping, as my heart yearned more when I saw a groundnut seller dance in joy as she was a beneficiary of a giveaway from protesters.

Her dance flushed tears from my eyes, while i toured the toll gate with my flag, then my phone rang, Zulu.

I could feel the sudden splush of excitement run through my soul, as his car stopped. His calm face breathed life into my heart, as he opened the door for me, I entered excitedly.

“Where have you been?” I hugged him excitedly, his cologne made me yearn, as my core felt moist.

“Sorry Ese, I have been running around with these guys. We got a hint that accounts are being frozen by powers from the top, just to frustrate this protest. Now, we are creating digital currencies platforms to fund this protest” Zulu explained.

The way he talked was like Anthony Banderas, my childhood crush. I could watch all Mexican Thrillers, with his face and still want his Zoro voice whisper my name.

“Any luck” I chipped.

“Definitely, boys are wiser now. There is a feminist handle on Twitter, that’s our berth.”

That was the defining point of the protest, as there were more contributors to this cause. Protesters contributed in digital currencies, to push the protest with Zulu at the forefront.

This generation gave me chills, the sudden desire for change, was at its peak, while international celebrities and our celebrities gave more voice to the movement.

While birds flew, my fondness for Zulu rose, as i would daydream about him and days I would rest on his shoulders and talk into the night, in a beach faced with the moon, while we get lost in the atmosphere, but this protest momentarily built a wall to my fantasies as Zulu was a key man behind the scenes for the lekki protest.

Every single day at the toll gate brought its own story, at the latter period of October, the protest had taken another shape. There was a conspiracy theory of the protest being hijacked by thugs, this story crept in like a worm without moist, but soon, every single day watered that worm and gave it strength to move. That movement would later change our story.

It was evening, with the night gradually creeping, while the stubborn workers queued with their cars and commuters at the tollgate, begging passage, as youths lined up blocking every major roads that linked to the gate, there were shouts, and total disagreement while I stayed with Zulu in his car enjoying the scenery.

We could see people in their frustrations as they filled out to gain passage, but were refused by the resilient protesters, and then I saw monies exchange hands. My eyes opened in shock. I tapped Zulu, who appeared indifferent as he stared while he puffed at a cigarette.

“Zulu, they are taking bribe.” I pushed.
“They are not us. I don’t know who they are, but they are not us,” he quipped.
My mind roamed, as I could see bodies move around, creating pathways, while voices were raised.

I could hear a lady shout down at a guy over unpaid tip, my heart stopped, as I wondered if the hijack conspiracy was true. While my mind roamed, I could feel Zulu’s firm fingers draw lines on my hair, as my body danced in a sudden wave of excitement. I could see his face peer through me in his car, while the evening moon, smiled at us.

“I hope those guys are not ruining this protest.” I said weakly, while my mind wandered to the sensation gotten from Zulu’s touch. His silence made me grow hot, as I could feel his touch gaining momentum on my hair. I stared at him, as I could see a mischievous smile from his face, which got me curious.
“Do I look funny?” I asked, as I remembered Olivia’s banter towards me whenever I was soft.

“Ese, you look like a clown whenever you are horny.” Olivia would always say, as she was such a thorn in my flesh, and here I was with Zulu, his smile deflated my ego, I became green with shyness.

“I just realised how beautiful you look when you are worried. ” Zulu said softly with a smile as he burnt my soul with that gaze. My heart flushed, as i my legs began to wobble in the car. I was worried, I had grown attached with the protest and the sight of some protesters taking tips from commuters gave me an eerie feeling.

“Those guys are not part of the protesters.” Zulu said again. I could see his eyes, they lit like a candle on Easter night. I could sense the tone of uncertainty in his voice, a fight against a truth that may affect his emotional struggle within. I knew Zulu breathed this protest, and he took it personal, which made me feel there was an inner battle for redemption.

“I just…” Zulu silenced me with another gentle stroke on my chin. He gazed deeply, I could feel his eyes describing sweetnothings, while the air-conditioned car suddenly grew hot. I tried to adjust, with my heart beating at the building tension, while my soul danced at uncertainties.

I could feel pidgeons kiss my belly as Zulu grew closer, his hot breath sent bluewaves down my body as my nipples hardened. I could feel his slow kiss breathe life into my lips, his hard lips sang blues in my tongue, as I could feel the flames. There was a rush of blood as I got heated up, his lips tasted like honey, his hot breath triggered my flesh, his cologne sent luscious waves to my senses, as our kiss lingered.

I lost my breath, as the car turned into paradise, I could feel our flames shared in the night, while Zulu searched my body with his tongue and touch. My nape became hot with his kisses, my nipples red from his luscious bites, while he searched my body with his fingers. I could feel my core dripping like a stream. Zulu drove me wild, as his grunts gave me tunes.

When my moans increased, Zulu locked the tinted car windows and winded them up, as I could feel his burning waist grind on me. We were hot, our clothed flesh lighted in passionate rage, as my eyes rolled in bliss. While his tongue flicked my core, there was a fierce tap on the window, which continued and made us jostle to reality, as I could see disappointment on Zulu’s face, while he stared at David’s panicked face.

“Dave, what’s up?” Zulu asked as he wind down. He was angry.
“I have been calling you guy. Someone has been shot, probably dead.” David struggled with his voice.

I could feel my heart pause, as Zulu’s red face switched to purple. I assumed it was another firework, but not this time.

…to be continued

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