Kunle had suggested that they went out in disguises. It was the only way.
Things had been rough in the area recently. In nearby villages, kidnapping and gunpoint robbery had been reported to be quite alarming in the past few weeks. The change in government had left the already disgruntled indigenes even more so. There was no pacifying these people.
“It is our birthright. We were born with these privileges. If the Government refuses to give us what is ours, then we shall take it!” Commander Iwin, a fierce rebel known for commanding his troops to perpetrate so many acts of sabotage, had said in a TV interview earlier that year.
Idris walked in front as they headed back to camp. The supplies they had so desperately needed were neatly packed in 4 maxi sized plastic bags. The sanity of the occupants of the camp depended on the otherwise regular products in these bags. The mission was critical.
They both could pass for native youths. Almost pass rather. Rough-looking basketball vests and pairs of what used to be full length jeans matched loosely worn baseball caps. But to a trained eye, they were goldfish!
Kunle was of average height and build. Heavy facial hair that was carefully “unkempt” and intelligent looking eyes described his face. A style commonly referred to as ‘#teambeardgang’ by young people, it was easily distinguishable from the curly, poorly distributed and greying beard on a truly unkempt male junkie. Idris was tall, fair and had a look in his eyes that said “I’m usually behind the wheels of a Range Rover”, which was actually true. He also wore thick glasses without rims. He looked delicate.
As they passed by some of the community youths, who seemed to be gathered doing nothing of purpose as usual, a couple of stares hit them. The two aliens tried to blend in, feigning to be deep in conversation, ensuring to speak only vernacular and to combine lots of slang in speech and gesticulation.
They made it back to camp just before 4pm. Their colleagues at camp were overjoyed.
“What’s the area looking like?” Tony asked.
“Hard to really tell man. Most of the youths were hurdled near the square but didn’t seem to be up to anything.” Kunle replied, wiping off sweat from beneath the cap he had now removed.
“There should be enough to take us for another week. By then other emergencies should have been sorted out and we should have support from base.” Ikenga added. He had the most experience in this business, although by official rank he was second to the Facility Manager.
A few that heard Ikenga’s opinion permitted themselves a flicker of hope. Others either didn’t believe or didn’t hear him; they focused on the goodies in the bag.
We just need to get through a few more days, Kunle thought. A few more days.
But three hours wasn’t passed when all hell broke loose…