‘Aluta continua! Victoria acerta!’ he shouted as he came to a stop in the middle of the room, facing me. The light bulb threw his shadow under his legs, thick and dark, like a blotch of ink.

I sat up and picked my novel off the floor. ‘How did it go?’

‘According to Martin Luther King, “It is the duty of every citizen to oppose unjust authority…” ’

I covered my ears, glaring at him. ‘Please. Cut that out. Just tell me what was finally decided.’

But he went on stubbornly, scolding me for ‘deserting the cause’.

‘How could you walk away when the great student body was on the move?’ He paced up and down, clenching his fist and gesticulating wildly with it. Imitating Sankara, I thought.

‘Just tell me what the great student body has agreed on,’ I said my voice becoming testy.

‘Can’t you see what is happening? The military have turned the country into one huge barracks, into a prison. Every street out there is crawling with them; the people lock their doors, scared to come out. They play with us, as if we are puppets. Yesterday they changed the transition date again. IBB is deceiving us, he has no intention of leaving. It is our duty to push him out. We have decided to boycott lectures from tomorrow, all Federal Universities…’

‘Until?’

‘Until IBB and his khaki-boys get out of the Presidential Villa and…’

‘That may take long.’

‘It’ll start tomorrow,’ Bola said with the enthusiasm of a kid at a birthday party.

As I lay in the dark, trying to sleep, I felt the dark, lurking figure inching towards the centre.

Now I stood on the verandah, brushing my teeth over the rail. Bola passed me and stood at the head of the two steps that led to the grass below

‘Ants!’ he shrieked. I turned, alarmed at the near hysteria in his voice. He was pointing at a long column of black ants passing below the steps. I had never seen them so thickly profuse before. But it was the start of the rainy season, their period for migration.

‘They are migrating,’ I said, rinsing my mouth. Bola stood there, rooted, staring at them. He turned to me, and now there was renewed urgency in his movements and words.

‘You don’t understand,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘Something is terribly wrong somewhere.’

‘Of course, everything is wrong everywhere,’ I said lightly, alarmed by his behaviour. He rushed past me into the room. I found him hastily dressing.

‘Where are you going to? You need rest…’