Commission

Dennis – Lt. Dennis Kwakye, sorry – swaggered out the Military Academy gate straight to Ecobank.  He walked the same way he supposed a former occupant of a death row cell would walk out of prison as a free man. If anything, he had more reason. An exonerated man just escaped the possibility of death. He had just played with death for the last eight months. And it hadn’t been a fair fight.

He’d entered the military thinking he’d pulled a fast one on his father and because his cousin Anane said the military was a gold mine nowadays. God would punish him, foolish man. Fifteen months of carrying logs and lying in gutters and wearing well ironed suit just to come and eat gari and bathing once a month. Awurade!

The only reason he wasn’t on his way to Anane’s house with a gun right now, and was based in a trotro to a bank, was because Anane hadn’t been entirely wrong. There was commission. Gods above, there was commission!

That was actually the only enquiry he’d made when they sent him the acceptance letter. “…something something you’ll be receiving 1800 Cedis every month, to be deposited in your account, number 010197560… something something something…”

18 million! Every month. For 15 months! That would give him like… he wasn’t very good with numbers but what did it matter? That was more than 100 million! When he’d first entered, he’d heard stories of people doing stupid things with their commission like buying land and laying foundation with half the money, and flying to America with the other half, and returning a year later to find a nice building on the land. Now that he was out, he could see the appeal. He was definitely getting a car. Maybe an Avalon. He had some forty million bi somewhere. He could add some.

He got out of the trotro and left the four Cedis change with the mate. He didn’t need it. He grinned as he stepped out, looking at the bank in the distance. Well pressed camo, shining boots. Yeah.

“Kindly fill the draft below…” he finished and waited. The place smelled of money.

“We’re sorry, but you do not have enough balance for withdrawal of the amount specified.”

“Eh? Mistake, check again.”

“We’re sorry. Your account balance is 3,756 Cedis and 64 pesewa-”

“Mistake. Mistake. Please check again. From Ghana Military” Did they think this was a joke? He’d specifically entered his account number in the form. Ah, it was even in the letter. He took it out. “… To be deposited in your account, number 010197560” He paused. He had never been very good with numbers. He checked his account number from his back pocket. Ah, it was the same thing! 010197516.

Ah these people what joke were they… Wait.

“Sir. Sir? Sir!”

***

Mr.  Prince Premu, client of Ecobank, account number 010197560, was in front of the church yet again. It seemed this was his year.

“Oh, my brothers and sisters, the Lord is good! I know I’ve been here many times this past year, but brethren, I can’t help it! Just when my life was beginning to fall apart-no job, no money for school fees-God heard our cries!

We’ve been receiving a constant supply of blessings through the bank; and to show God that I’m not in any way ungrateful, what I haven’t used for my family or kept as savings, we’ve given to the church. Brethren, I even think if we continue saving from the business I’ve started, I might even buy a car next year! Maybe even Toyota Avalon! Church, praise be to the Most High!”

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