I did a renovation years back; re floored, changed door positions plus toilet things etc so needed a painter for the finishing.
My girlfriend’s dad heard and offered me a reliable hand.
‘He works for me both here in Lagos and at home in Iragbiji’ he boasted.
Cos I didn’t look convinced . . .
‘I can leave my house for him and go to sleep’ he went on just to secure the job for his man.
I got hooked, but so not line and sinker.
I picked up the guy at girlfriend’s place with introductions done by her dad.
Very elderly man, didn’t make me comfortable one bit but I had breasted the tape. No going back.
Praying, hoping it all went well, I faced the hurdle ahead.
It was the final lap of the hitherto unforeseen tasking renovation I had embarked on over 2 months earlier.
The plan was that it’ll take me max of 2 weeks.
The workmen had all been terrible. Outrageously so too.
The old wrinkle faced painter volunteered to take me to where we could get cheap quality paint.
I didn’t object, I drove down as directed and the way he was welcomed showed he was no stranger to the place.
I wanted good deals I kept saying and after choosing my preference in terms of colors and quantity etc, I made to pay while also insisting on a discount since Baba painter was their friend.
It was very reluctantly granted and I paid.
My car was loaded with the purchase and I drove away with the old painter.
We had to make a u-turn at a point towards my direction. The man instead, pleaded to get down and board a bus to his destination.
I was taken aback since I would be going half way in his direction, I could save him some money I thought.
He however, insisted on getting down and did just that, promising also to be at work in 48 hours as agreed.
I got home and offloaded my stuff only to realise there had been a shortfall, a mix up actually.
I had been given 2 gallons where I wanted a gallon and a gallon where I needed 2 gallons.
The following day, I took my receipt alongside total purchase and drove down once again, this time, all by myself.
The shop owner was not around but I met her shop girl who wasn’t part of the transaction the previous day.
A hunch told me not to take my receipt from the car and instead to rely on the counterfoil of the receipt with the sellers.
I told the girl my reason for coming back, asking her to check the counterfoil of their own receipt booklet for the evidence of my purchase.
Lo and behold, theirs was totally different from mine. They had used a pen to mark 2 rates on the counterfoil, the real price and the difference due the old man from what I was made to pay.
The girl called her madam afterwards to intimate her of the error in what was delivered to me and she was asked to change and ammend the difference in delivery.
I had caught Baba painter.
The old man was a crook, a thief.
Infact, a rogue – The reason he dropped off the previous day was to collect his own share of the booty .
He came to work on Monday, remorseful, long faced and pitiful.
On sighting me, he had said in his native language ‘Aiye o ni mo ashiri re ooooo.’
Meaning, ‘The world will not know your secret ooooo’
Caught red handed.
@ O’Shine ORIGINAL