The ORION Project | ✔

chapter 35

Source date: 1993, April.
Source data: Councilman Abayomi failed to account for fifteen million dollars of funds set aside for road construction in sixteen local communities.

***

Nehemiah Abayomi looked nothing like his father, it was the first thing Sanmi thought as he laid eyes on the slightly older man. He was the son of the late Senator Abayomi who had been murdered almost a year ago.

He was just several inches shy of being as tall as Sanmi was, he kept a trim beard and his wide brown eyes seemed to twinkle, as if there was a joke only he knew the punchline to. As he rose up from behind his seat to greet Sanmi, the twinkling dimmed a little as he narrowed his eyes.

"Hello, I'm Nehemiah, nice to talk in person." He said, offering a brief handshake that Sanmi took. "I gathered from your email that whatever you want to speak of is important, and I'm afraid that sounds dreadfully boring, so I brought the whiskey."

Sanmi huffed a startled laugh, instantly thinking that he liked Nehemiah. The later sat back down and reached for the drawers in his mahogany desk, a second later, he pulled out a bottle of said whiskey and two red plastic cups.

"Sanmi Ilori." Sanmi said, pasting a smile on his face. He dreaded mentioning the late senator in the presence of his son, even while the man had been alive, he and his son had never gotten along. There were several articles speaking of the one time Nehemiah sabotaged his father's election campaign, exposing documents of the senator's corruption to the public.

After his death, Nehemiah had declined speaking about his father to the press and media, choosing instead to focus on his budding law career and activism. Sanmi wasn't so sure this man before him would want to speak to him either, but he had to try because of what he had seen in just one page of Project Eden.

Sanmi sat, Nehemiah uncapped the bottle and poured in the cups, he peered at Sanmi for a second and hesitated.

"You're over eighteen, aren't you?" He asked.

Sanmi smiled, shaking his head.

"Twenty three, don't worry, barrister, I won't get you in trouble for offering me a drink." He said, taking the offered cup. Nehemiah sighed and leaned back in his chair, bending backwards so deeply that Sanmi was afraid he'd topple from the seat. The florescent lights in the office flickered for a moment and he leaned forward, startled.

"I'm sorry, I've been working all day, I'm not exactly thinking clearly. You don't look as old as I am," He paused, glancing at Sanmi again. "Well, I'm only twenty five so I don't think that counts as old."

That wasn't the first time Sanmi was hearing that he didn't look twenty three, he wasn't quite sure what twenty three year olds looked like. He was taller than most people and he wasn't a bean pole. Maybe it was his soft, almost feminine features he inherited from his mother that made people think that way.

Nehemiah blew out a tired breath and sighed. "I'll stop talking now." He said and gulped the contents of his cup.

Sanmi looked down at his, his hands shaking badly, he settled it down on the table, clearing away printed papers scattered on it. He suddenly didn't want to drink, didn't want to feed the monster, even if that hungry part was slowly becoming ravenous.

"You did your PhD in Lagos State University," Sanmi began, clearing his throat nervously.

Nehemiah nodded, setting his cup down besides the bottle. "I did, you're a law student?"

"No, music student."

Nehemiah blinked. "I see."

Sanmi swore under his breath, there was no need to beat around the bush, before Nehemiah grew wary and suspicious.