The Series Of My Life - Season 1 - Episode 119

4 years ago

The Series Of My Life - Season 1 - Episode 119

Two weeks that I didn’t have in Lisbon based on how things had turned out.

The second option was to take her to Madrid and get her a passport for €800 plus about another €700 it would cost both of us to go to Madrid and return. It would also mean that I will pay another €4000 for her permit. A permit I wasn’t sure of its authenticity yet. Nope. That would deplete my cash down from €17000 to €7000. It would also mean that she won’t take asylum again, which was what I wanted her to do. Above all, it would mean that no government would be paying Jennifer anything, she would depend on me like most of the Nigerian wives depended on their husbands. I would not have cared if it was back in Nigeria but in Europe, everything was sold in Euro which was difficult to come except through crime. I wasn’t going to indulge in crime forever.

The Useless Nigerian Embassy in Portugal had no Passport machine. The embassy at the Restelo district of Lisbon had nothing except the old ambassador who loved Okro soup, and a register where they wrote the names of Nigerians living in Lisbon at a fee ranging from €100 to €200.

I thought hard and decided not to make the permit for Jennifer. I would find a way to take her out of Portugal and arrange asylum for her. I wasn’t ready to travel for 630km across two countries without legal documents because of love.

Trust me, love was such a wonderful thing but JACK saving ROSE in the Titanic movie wasn’t an immigration issue, it was life and death issue.

I doubt Leonardo Di Caprio would do the same for Kate Winslet in real life if they found each other running from Madam Grace in Lisbon.
I called Francis in the evening and told him to come along with the Criminal immigration officer to the bar where we had met earlier. I hanged around the area an hour before their arrival. When they called, I hired a taxi and picked them up at the entrance of the bar. We drove down to avenida Libertade area and discussed.

The conditions was acceptable to both of us. I gave him a photocopy of my International Passport and a Passport photograph. The immigration man said the permit would be ready in two days. I gave him €2000 and left them there.

In Lisbon, I was running from Madam Grace, her thugs and every Nigerian who had heard about me and Jennifer. Above all, I was running from Jose and Nuno, two portuguese citizens who would not think twice before shooting me.

When I returned to my hotel in Setubal, I called Francis and asked him to arrange for a look-alike permit for Jennifer. He said he knew who to get it from but said it would cost me €1000. That was something that usually cost €500. I guessed he figured I was going to slip away from portugal and wanted to grab as much money from me as he could.
I agreed to pay him the money.