The door slammed shut. My fingers stopped typing and paused midway in the air, trembling slightly. I raised my head to see a tall, bulky man in an army uniform looking down at me. I gulped.
Source
He went around running his fingers through the already written articles I had typed but not published on my desk, strolling around my office to read some of the articles of my mentors which I had pasted on various parts of the wall. When he was seemingly satisfied with whatever he was looking for, he came back to my desk and picked an article.
"Frederick Anthony" he looked into my eyes "is that you?"
I nodded severally suddenly noticing that my mouth had become dry.
"You will come with me. You have managed to draw the attention of some important people. Up!"
I dragged my feet from under my body, picked up my phone and followed quietly.
I was led into a camouflaged vehicle and was driven for almost two hours without knowing where I was being taken. In as much as my heart was in my hand, I stayed still knowing well that my wife and younger brother were tracking my location through my phone.
We finally stopped and I was asked to alight. I had been brought straight to the government house. Governor Ahmed Ali was undeniably a notable man on TV but in real life, he seemed to swallow the entire room with his aura. He had his small eyes fixed on me, his face was completely expressionless. The soldiers saluted him but he merely dismissed them with a wave of hand and pointed at a seat for me to occupy. I didn't know how much one could sweat until I had occupied the seat and was staring directly into his face. He stretched his hand and got a document from one of the soldiers then slammed it on the desk before me.
"I am starting to wonder if journalism is a career or a death wish" my heart was pounding in my chest, Fear was an understatement.
" Frederick, I saw the article you published supporting the ex Governor of the state when some hoodlums tried to taint his image and I knew you were a good man but this…" he raised the most recent article I had published in the newspaper regarding some fraudulent oil blocs I had discovered. "This is overstepping your bounds."
I don't know why but I couldn't bring myself to say the "I'm sorry sir" that was resounding in my mind.
"I've decided to forgive you though, but on one condition." He stretched his hand for another document. "You have to decide if this writing is what you really want or if you want a life." He tossed the document across the table. My eyes darted through it unbelievably.
"Please sir…" I had finally found my voice, lips quivering as I spoke "writing is my life. If I give it up, I don't know what I will become."
I thought I saw a smile on his lips for an instant but it was gone as quickly as it came.
"Now you're a wise man Frederick, You either choose between your freedom of speech; you can write whatever you want without obstruction on any platform, or you give that up for your right to privacy, so you and your family can live in peace."
I placed my hands on my head. If I chose journalism over my wife, younger brother and two kids, I would be exposing them to undue attention. I knew the kind of person Governor Ali was, the minute I chose freedom of speech, he was going to invade my personal life and be in control of my family.
"The time is ticking dear Frederick, I have a couple of minutes before I go in for a meeting. You know how these things work…" He curved his lips to one side and leaned into his chair.
I knew what I had to do. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and signed the document then returned it to him.
"Good boy" he had a satisfied smile on his face "please take this gentleman safely to his house. I have prepared a little compensation back at home for you."
It took another three hours before I arrived home. The moment I stepped in, my wife ran into my arms
"What on earth is going on? a man came here about an hour ago and dropped a bag loaded with cash saying it was from a family friend…"
"Shh…" I headed over to check if the soldiers had left "Where is my brother?"
"I sent him to the market"
I dragged her to our room and gave a shallow explanation of what happened to her.
"For the sake of the children and my brother who is just trying to find his feet, we have to let it go. I cannot afford to lose my life because I want a few bad men to be punished"
"But it has always been your dream to expose crime and speak for the people. You're going to throw all that away?"
"No baby, I'm going to retire." My wife was dazed. I opened the bag that had been delivered to my house and whooped
"Look at all this money, we better take it and run."
I could see clear confusion on my wife's face but I wasn't going to explain further. If protecting my family meant dying with the truth, then so be it.
I went to pour us a glass of wine and raised it to her
"To freedom".