Mr Hillary was my caretaker. Yes! That's right. Caretaker, ordinary caretaker! Not landlord ooh. Care freaking taker!
  But like every caretaker around these parts, he had the power of seven gods in his right hand.

He can trek to Oga landlord's house in the middle of the night like brother Nico, and whisper just two words in the landlord's ears. And just like that, the following morning, you are trekking up and down looking for a new apartment.

  It was in those days and times when I was doing our country Nigeria  a great deal of service under the NYSC scheme.
And like it is customary of serving corp members, I was far, nay, very far from home and almost always broke. I joke not about these matters.

  And so when I found a house for only 40k (agent fee inclusive. And by the way, guess who the agent was, yes that's right.  Mr Hillary himself. Again), I had to abide (reluctantly) by the rules and regulations laid out for tenants by the "Supreme Caretaker"

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