In Lagos, Larry woke well before dawn.
He’d been dreaming that Joseph, Ibrahim, and Olafemi had all phoned in to say they were sick. In the way of dreams, though, in the next instant, Joseph phoned to say he was better, but Ibrahim and Olafemi were dead. “Terminal coughing,” Joseph said in the dream.
“So, what time will you arrive at work this morning, Joseph?” Larry asked.
“Never,” said Joseph again in the dream. “I’m resigning to look after my mom and dad. They’re sick too.”
Larry looked at the clock radio, saw it was only 3:00 a.m., and put the pillow over his head. But it was far too hot, so he slung the sheet off and lay there, staring into the darkness. The hundred unexplained deaths in Kano were troubling him far more than his job for the embassy. What bothered him was the silence around the deaths. Why is it, he wondered, that some countries could accept such a situation without question?
He got up, made coffee, logged onto the internet, and checked the Kano State government website to try to understand how it operated but was none the wiser. He double-checked the WHO website for any
updates on the Thai situation. There was nothing. He checked the Kenyan Ministry of Health and the Thailand Ministry of Public Health websites and there was nothing. However, one thing was for sure: he wasn’t going to spend another day looking out of the office window. He decided to fly back to Kano and do his own checking.
***
In Bristol, England, Kevin had fallen asleep on his sofa when his phone rang. It was 2:00 a.m., so it had to be someone to whom time meant nothing. “What’s up, Tunji?” he said.“Have you checked out the Malthus Nigeria message board today?”
“No, Tunji, I only ever check it out when I think a Nigerian has something interesting to say.”
“That’s very unkind, Kev. You might miss something.”
“No chance. You’d soon tell me.”
“So, you want to know?”
“Try me.”
“Joseph phoned me.”
“Who the hell is Joseph?”
“Buddy of mine. He works at the USA Embassy in Lagos.”
“Is he a Malthus member, Tunji?”
“Yeh, kind of. He got interested in the Malthus site at Wolverhampton University where he was doing a computer course. They were set a project to look at message boards and how they operate. I suggested he check out our website.”
“Ours, Tunji, ours? Did he sign up, and did he contribute anything useful?”
“Sure. He signed up and I gave him a summary of population control methods from 1786.”
“You mean you showed him how to fit a condom?”
“Ha ha! Comedian tonight, eh?”
“Why did Joseph phone you? And why are you phoning me?
“His boss is an American doctor, Kev. He’s the one who reported the Kano deaths to the WHO.”
Kevin sat up to try to make sense of the connection. “Let me get this straight. Joseph, who works at the American Embassy in Lagos and has a degree from that higher education facility known as Wolverhampton University, sometimes checks the Malthus Society website because of your influence. Is that right?”
“Yeh”
“First question. Why did he choose to attend Wolverhampton University, Tunji? Was it because a thousand other Nigerians were already living in and around that area of England that someone with enormous foresight once called the Black Country?”
“Now don’t get all racist again, Kev, or otherwise, I’ll start reminding you about White Ladies Road, Blackboy Hill, and the rest of Bristol’s dubious history. I might even mention Liverpool’s involvement in the slave trade. Anyway, what the fuck has Wolverhampton University got to do with it, Kev?”
“Because they once turned me down for a job as head of faculty, that’s why. What did Joseph say?”
“He’d seen a message from Thalmus - that’s you - asking members to check the WHO website.”
“And his education enabled him to work out what WHO meant, Tunji? The computer course must be better than I thought.”
“You should stay up late every night, Kev. It’s good for your comedy act.”
Kevin sighed. “Why the fuck have you phoned me?”
“Joseph reckons Nigeria is an economic disaster area and totally overpopulated. That’s why he still checks out the Malthus site and that’s why big shot Mohamed El Badry contacted him.”
Kevin almost exploded. “El Badry spoke to Joseph?”
“It was nothing to do with me, Kev.”
“And what did El Badry want?”
“Well, it’s like this. Joseph works for the American Embassy’s commercial team. El Badry phoned to say he was interested in finding somewhere to conduct some customer satisfaction surveys on some medicine his company was introducing. He was put through to Joseph as Joseph does healthcare. Then, as Joseph comes from Kano, Joseph suggested he try an area called Dala Hill.”
“What happened next? Did El Badry say ‘Thank you very much. I’ll get back to you once I’ve done my survey’?”
“Joseph called me because it was his boss, the American doctor, who reported the deaths to the WHO. And the place where the dead people came from was around Dala Hill. Understand, Kev?”
“Oh, fuck,” said Kevin.
“Yes, fuck it is, Kev. Your Malthus website is implicated.”