Damien stepped out of the Uber and waved in gratitude to the driver. As the car moved away, he looked at the building before him.

The Baatsona Police Station.

It was time to deal with this matter. It was getting ridiculous.

A few weeks had passed, and it was as if they had timelines for messing about with him. One week, he’d have to deal with one rider yelling an insult at him or doing something crazy like throwing an orange at him every other day. The next, not a soul would disturb him. Just as he would start to feel safe, boom, another ‘attack’ would pop up.

This was not what he had been expecting a few weeks ago. What he had envisaged: a peaceful life back in Accra, and Vivica in his bed.

None had manifested.

Vivica had blocked him shortly after their fight after sending him a long message insisting that she wanted nothing to do with him. As far as she was concerned, God had exposed him, and she’d be a fool to reconsider her decision.

Well, at present, he couldn’t do anything about that. Even the venomous voice note he sent her in response was a futile attempt at getting back at her, seeing as he had been blocked before sending it.

But there was something he could do about this.

He marched into the reception.

“Good morning, Officer. Please, I’m here to make a report.”

The police officer seated at the front desk of the Police Station nodded in response as a determined-looking Damien stood before her, ready to deal with this sudden scourge once and for all. “What’s the problem, young man?”

Damien took a deep breath, then began. “Umm, so, for some time now, I’ve been heckled by some of these guys on motorcycles. I’ll be walking by the road, then suddenly, this rider will ride by and throw something at me. Or insult me. The first time, I was around the Accra Mall, heading for the trotro station when one of these riders kicked my hand while I was holding some flyers. Straight away, some other rider passed by and insulted me…”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, young man,” the officer interrupted, looking unamused by his rushed story. “You’re going too fast for my liking. Go slow, so I can write. Now, you said some riders have been harassing you, right?”

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Okay. And this has been going on for how long now?”

“Umm, about… 3 to 4 weeks now.”

“Okay,” the police officer responded, busily writing. “So, have you noted who these riders are?”

Damien froze for a moment. S**t, I didn’t think about that part at all. I have no idea who any of those idiots are. Chaleeeee… how do I explain that to her?

“Umm,” he started nervously, “I… I actually don’t know who they are, but…”

The police officer looked up and stared at him. “You say what?”

Damien swallowed hard. The stony, unamused look on this officer’s face was unsettling, especially considering he now realize he hadn’t gotten any info to pin any of these riders down with. He had never bothered to capture something that would identify any of these hooligans.

“Umm, I, I, I don’t really have anything to… identify them. It’s like they are different different people,” he let out slowly.

The officer put down her pen. “So you don’t know what they look like? No registration numbers of the motorcycles? Nothing at all?”

Damien looked as embarrassed as could be. He shook his head. “Umm, no. I don’t have that.”

“Then how do we know who is doing these things? This one you’ve come to report to me, it’s not enough. Because I don’t know who we are supposed to apprehend for this. You’ve not given me any name. No description. Nothing. So what am I supposed to work with? Or do you want me to go and arrest every single motor rider in Accra?”

Damien shook his head.

“Exactly. So gentleman, I dunno what you want me to do. Until you have something concrete, I can’t help you. The best I can do is give you my number, so you can call me whenever you get some information to give me. That’s the best I can do for you.”

Damien nodded as he took out his phone. Thank goodness he wasn’t going back empty-handed; this was as helpful as could be. “Yes, please. I’ll call you as soon as I get some information, please.”

“Mmm, I hear you.”

***

It was evening, and Damien sat on his bed, busily scrolling through his Twitter timeline on his phone.

An uneventful day it had been. Aside from the visit to the police station, he had not done much that day. He was yet to receive a response on his successful interview, and other applications were yet to be responded to. A pretty dry day.

As he scrolled through the timeline, though, his mind wasn’t really on the tweets on the screen. It was on this issue of his.

He just couldn’t understand what was going on. And honestly, it was starting to bring out a serious fear of motorcycles in him. Already, thanks to numerous stories of people having their phones snatched by goons on motorcycles, he had his guard up whenever a motorcycle passed by him. Now the mere sound of one sent him into a panic. Even the couriers sent his heartrate into a frenzy.

It was really that bad. This was the onset of motorcyclophobia he was suffering from, at this rate.

Where from all this? Chale, I no dey understand. Most of these guys, I never see dema face sef. So I no dey get where all this madness dey come from…

His thoughts were interrupted as his ears picked up that old, unfriendly sound.

The sound of a motorcycle.

In fact, he could hear two motorcycles.

Outside the gate.

He jumped out of his bed in panic. “Jesus! Are they here for me?”

His heartbeat went crazy. Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead. A pit of apprehension immediately opened up in his belly.

The sounds faded out for a moment… then grew loud again.

Then the sounds faded out again…

… then grew loud once more.

Panicky, Damien rushed out of his room and quickly made his way to the front door. He ran outside and opened the gate and stood outside.

The road outside his house was clear. No sight of any vehicle anywhere.

He stood there for a few more minutes, waiting to see if the motorcycles would show up.

Two minutes turned into five minutes.

And to seven minutes.

And ten minutes.

No motorcycle appeared.

Damien stood in front of the gate, hands on his hips as he shook his head. But… but… but there were motorcycles around… I know I heard them…

“Damien!”

“Yes, Mama!” he responded, stepping back into the house as he continued to shake his head. From fright to confusion in no time flat. Surely he wasn’t going crazy…

… was he?

***

“Chale, the guy dey live in fear pass!” Lamidi laughed as his phone sat in front of him, with Nico Blaze on the screen. “Just this afternoon, I follow the boy go the police station. As he comot wey I ride by, the way he freeze, eh. Chale, like you for see the way fear dey ein face top. The nigga shake ankasa!”

Nico snickered. “Perfect. That be all I dey search. Kwasia like that. E do aa, niggas figure sey them go fit f**k up for some place then just boot come home then do like he never do anything. Them no know sey you touch some people aa, you just carry trouble put your body.”

“Oh, bossu, them no know ooo, them no know! Na this nigga paaaa, you figure sey ibi hit and run you go fit do for Nico Blaze ein sis top?”

“Make you no mind am! The way that girl dey my heart top, eh. Lami, ein mommy then poppy really show me love as I be kiddie ooo. The time my old man dey f**k up plus my mommy and tins, these people take over really watch me better. So chale, Lily be important give me. Wey I tell am long time sey make she dey gee, na niggas go see ein big ass and big boobs and just go want eat. The girl really slack for this guy, but chale, I deal with am finish. Ibi this boy wey he for smell pepper, wey chale, you niggas dey do the job make my eye get waaa.”

“Oh, boss, abi you know sey we dey give you.”

“Oh, I know, I know. At this point, ibi like you niggas build the foundation nice kraa. So I for step down there make we finish the job.”

“Oh, for real?”

“Yeah, chale. As you niggas f**k up the boy ein brain diɛɛ, part one finish. Now e lef part two. And that be where I dey step in. Na bro, by the time I finish with him, eh, he naaa he go see sey inobi any heart biaa you go fit f**k around with.”

“No yawa, my guy. No yawa. We dey give you.”

Yeah, if Damien thought all this was bad, it’s about to get worse. If Nico’s coming to Accra, then the boy’s in major trouble…