Rot

One Act Play 

(A building with several offices. Nijaman enters and stops.)

 Nijaman:                 Ehe! I have finally found their official office. (Reads) 

                                Commission for Safety on Nija Roads

Nijaman One:           Hei! Stop there.

Nijaman:                   I wasn’t moving. Good morning, sir.

Nijaman One:            Who are you?

Nijaman:                   My name is Nijaman and ...

Nijaman One:            Are you the only Nija man here? Any man from Nija is a Nija man.

Nijaman:                    That’s true sir, but my name is ...

Nijaman One:             (Impatiently) Whatever. Why are you here?

Nijaman:                    (Pointing to the Nijaman One’s office) Please say, is this 

                                    the DLO, Drivers Licensing Office?

Nijaman One:            Are you sick in the head? How dare you answer my question with a question?

Nijaman:                    I’m sorry, sir.

(Nijaman One ignores Nijaman and continues to shuffle through papers aimlessly).

Nijaman One:              (Barking) Mr. Man, get out of my office if you can’t say why you’re here.

Nijaman:                      Oh! I’m here to renew my drivers license.

Nijaman One:               Bring the old one.

Nijaman:                       Here.

Nijaman One:              This is stilll valid. Why do you want to renew it?

Nijaman:                     It will expire next month. I don’t want to forget renewing and then get 

                                     harassed by the road marshalls.

Nijaman One:              Who are the road marshalls?

Nijaman:                     (Pinched his lips in regret) Oh! I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to insult you guys.

Nijaman One:              One K to appease the gods before I proceed on your case.

Nijaman:                      But I said I was sorry.

Nijaman One:               If you’re not ready to appease the gods that you have offended, 

                                     you shouldn’t ask of a favour from them.

Nijaman:                      But it is their duty to do me ‘the favour’, sir. In fact, they’re 

                                     paid to do me that favour.

Nijaman One:               I see you prefer the road harassment.

Nijaman:                       No! Ok! Here is the money. What next?

Nijaman One:                Stand aside while I check the originality of this plastic you brought.

Nijaman:                       Plastic? I got it from one of your men.

(Nijaman One keeps shuffling and reshuffling some papers sluggishly).

Nijaman One:               Your name is not on the national register. Who gave you this?

Nijaman:                       He is a road marshal. He lived on our compound at the time he        

                                       got it for me. I gave him all my details.

Nijaman One:                Where is he now?

Nijaman:                        He’s been transfered to another State.

Nijaman One:                 You are the only suspect I have at hand. I hereby charge you                  

                                       with document forgery. You are advised to remain silent                      

                                      as whatever you say...

Nijaman:                         Are you also a Policeman?

Nijaman One:                  We all do the same thing.

Nijaman:                         But I’m the victim here. One of your officers collected                      

                                        thirty thousand jingos from me, and gave me an empty plastic ...

Nijaman One:                  Thirty what? Drivers License costs only two thousand jingos.           

                                         That means you’re also guilty of over-payment.

Nijaman:                       But I am the victim here! Are you going to arrest me for             

                                      another man’s crime instead of getting justice for me?

Nijaman One:               You must have induced him into taking that money from you.

Nijaman:                       Induced him? With what?

Nijaman One:               With drugs, obviously.

Nijaman:                       But you can’t prove that.

Nijaman One:               I can’t prove it, or you didn’t drug him?

Nijaman:                       Both.

Nijaman One:                Bail yourself.

Nijaman:                        From what?

Nijaman  One:               From prison, stupid.

Nijaman:                        But I’m not in prison.

Nijaman One:                 That’s where you’ll find yourself shortly.

Nijaman:                         Ok! I’m ... I’m ... sorry, sir.

Nijaman One:                  Sorry doesn’t buy Infinity. Appease the gods.

Nijaman:                          Again? With what?

Nijaman One:                   Five K.

Nijaman:                           Five thousand jingos?! That’s too much.

Nijaman One:                    Maybe you prefer to rot in prison.

Nijaman:                            No! Ok! Here’s the money.

Nijaman One:                    (Throwing away his face while counting) Hmn! This smellls like

                                           rat-shit. Anyway, fill this form for fresh issue of drivers license.

Nijaman:                             I am only renewing.

Nijaman One:                      (Sternly) Your name is not in the records.

Nijaman:                              Oh! So the process begins all over again?!

Nijaman One:                       And there are thirty officers standing between you and your license.

Nijaman:                               I don’t understand.

Nijaman One:                       Two K pushes each of them out of the way.

Nijaman:                                Ah! Well... Ok! Two K for all thirty, not too bad.

Nijaman One:                       Two K to dodge each blockade.

Nijaman:                               Does that mean two times thirty?

Nijaman One:                       If you do two times less than thirty, there’ll be a fatal accident.

Nijaman:                               How much will that be then?

Nijaman One:                       Am I your Math teacher? Blockhead!

Nijaman:                           (Calculating with fingers and toes) Hei! That is sixty thousand jingos, sir.

Nijaman One:                    That’s right.

Nijaman:                           Two times the first fraud.

Nijaman One:                    That’s right... Eh? No! Not correct. You did the first one in your

                                           compound. But now you are here, at the official office. 

                                           Can anything go wrong?

Nijaman:                           So no original fake?

Nijaman One:                    What you get is original original.

Nijaman:                           (Counts money) Ok. Here is sixty.

(Nijaman One opens and closes several drawers and writes copiously on papers. He enters into another office and comes out)

Nijaman One:                    Here is your original drivers license.

Nijaman:                           Thank you. You have given me a fresh issue of drivers  

                                           license but without testing my driving skills.

Nijaman One:                   But you have just successfully dodged thirty blockades. 

                                         Anyways, this is only a freshly issued drivers license renewal.

Nijaman:                          I am lost.

Nijaman One:                 (Pointing) That’s the door through which you came. 

                                        When you step out, take left and walk down.  

                                        Then take a right turn, walk up the hill, then a left turn,                          

                                        climb down the valley, and then ...

Nijaman:                         Don’t bother. I know my way home.

(Nijaman walks two steps away on to the road. Nijaman Two, another road safety officer           enters).

Nijaman Two:                  Hei! Stop there!

Nijaman:                          Is that the safety salute?

Nijaman Two:                  Your drivers license.

Nijaman:                           What happened to it?

Nijaman Two:                   Bring your drivers license, blockhead!

Nijaman:                           But I’m not driving.

Nijaman Two:                   But you’re on the road. We work to make sure that Nija 

                                          roads are safe for all travellers.

Nijaman:                           In that case, you should start issuing trekkers license.

Nijaman Two:                   Do you have a drivers license?

Nijaman:                            Yes.

Nijaman Two:                    Forward it, with kola.

Nijaman:                            With kola?

Nijaman Two:                   If you do not comply, I will impound from your waist down to your legs.

Nijaman:                           Officer, my wife won’t forgive me if I let my waist be impounded.     

                                          Here is the kola, and my license.

Nijaman Two:                   (Collects the money but does not touch the license) Your license 

                                           is fake. Come with me to the station.

Nijaman:                           For what?

Nijaman Two:                   For questioning, of course. Forgery is a criminal offence.

Nijaman:                           (Aside) I wish I had the old license now. While I was using it , 

                                         no one harassed me on account of originality. But I was 

                                         always harassed all the same, for different reasons each time. 

                                          (To the officer) Well then, let’s go.    Was it not your officer in 

                                          your official office that issued the license to me?

Nijaman Two:                   Let me advise you, let’s settle the matter here. Do you think that 

                                          the Commission will condemn one of their own?

Nijaman:                          What do you mean? I’ve been duped by your officer. Won’t he be

                                          prosecuted for this fraudulent act?

Nijaman Two:               The Commission is a family. And just as in every family, 

                                       ‘like son like father' is the only song everyone sings. 

                                         Who’ll prosecute his own messenger?

Nijaman:                        A loud smelling rot!

Nijaman Two:                Indeed! And you need to bail yourself from it.

Nijaman:                        I’ll ...bail? bail! bail myself at once.

(Nijaman searches all his pockets and discovers there’s no money left)

Nijaman:                      (Sitting on the roadside) Impound from my head to my toe. 

                                      At least my waist will have some peace and quiet tonight.

Nijaman Two:                (Kicking Nijaman off on to the road. Nijaman exits) Go and service 

                                        your wife, idiot. You want God to arrest me for putting assunder. 

                                        I’m not ready to die yet. (Soliloquy) I better get back to the office 

                                        before this wife dodger leads me to sin. (Exit) 

Written By
Mrs Chinelo Oputa