Chapter Eight

'Where are you all going?' A woman who was carrying an empty basket on her head asked the students. 

 Tariebi smiled. 'We are on a sightseeing tour.' 

 Bola forced a cough from his throat, trying not to laugh. Abinla glared at him, and he shrugged like he never cared. 

'Well, I hope your tour is for something good,' the woman said, ignoring Bola's silly ways. 'Our people are dying in silence, our youths are now jobless. Oil spills have sacked us farmers. The oil companies have damaged our environment and left us poorer than before. We have no electricity, no water, and no good roads.' The woman put arms around Abinla's shoulders. 'You will get us out of this mess, won't you?' 

Abinla looked at the woman and smiled. 'Of course, if we must achieve a good breathing environment, we must do it together.' 

The woman smiled, patting Abinla's shoulder, she walked away, feeling optimistic. 

 Bola chuckled. 'That's our Abinla,' he said. 'Everyone takes her to be the saviour of Bayelsa State. But I feel that we are doing nothing but hunting wild pig...I forgot to wear a riding doublet and hose,' he scoffed. 

Abinla rolled her eyes at him. 

 'Did you hear the old woman?' Bola chuckled, amused. 'Your people were already poor before but now you blame your poverty on gas flaring, oil exploitation and oil spill... Can't you people speak the truth for once? Here I was thinking Abinla was a poor heiress that would regain her family fortune and sit on the throne as a princess.' He shook his head. 'What a bunch of liars!' 

 'Yes, we never had enough but you should never forget that our lands were green and clean. We used to have a bountiful harvest. We would stay at least one hour in the water and everywhere would be filled with fish. We were happy, had a fresh breath, enjoyed the sweet smell of the rain, and weren't afraid of cracking walls collapsing in on us. No one fell sick like we do now. But everything changed since the oil drilling business. Now we are all facing environmental catastrophe.' 

 'Were you born when all these started?' Bola teased her. 

'You're always so annoying,' Abinla huffed, walking up to meet with a girl who was calling her to have a bite from her stale bread. 

 'Thank you, Amaoge,' Abinla hungrily took a big bite of the bread and flushed it quickly down with her water. This was the first bite of food she had taken since morning and she felt happy and a bit strong.

 'Nice to see you all having a good time,' a voice said. 

They turned and saw Mr. Johnson standing not far from them, wearing a black vest and white trousers, with a book in hand, and a beautiful smile in his eyes. 

'Tariebi,' Mr. Johnson said, pushing his glasses up his nose, 'why did you decide to tour this place?' 

Tariebi pointed at Bola, 'Well, I happen to have a student who doesn't care about others.' 

 They all stared at Bola. Bola looked sad. He wasn't happy about Tariebi saying he never cared for others. 

 'Maybe you would change after this,' Mr. Johnson said to Bola. 

'What are you doing here, Mr. Johnson?' Tariebi asked, looking at the tall Mr. Johnson. 

Mr. Johnson looked at the students and replied, 'I am here to keep you company.' 

 The students laughed, except for Bola who looked sad or rather remorseful. 

Leading the way this time, Mr. Johnson took them to the nearby Shell Petroleum Development Company. 'Many people cannot sleep anymore due to continuous gas flaring from these oil companies. Since the start of this gas flare we no longer sleep comfortably like before. No one drinks from the rain water because when it rains the water will be covered in soot,' he said, pointing at the water which was already covered in soot.