[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

8 years ago

[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

It was 15minutes past 5pm and Zainab had just got home. She didn’t meet her mum at home but her grandma was outside, selling beans to customers who came around. She had greeted her the usual way and went inside, schlepping. She dropped her bag on a seat and before she switched her phone on, since she didn’t normally take it to school – a call entered.

She was in fears once the call entered but she later took a deep breath when she saw it had no name attached to the caller. Picking such number was not something her mother does. Her mother had oft time said, she wouldn’t pick any number she doesn’t have saved on her phone.

“What if, it were an important call?” She would ask but her mother would reply.

“I don’t care how important the call might be, once you re not on my contact. I won’t pick your call.”

Zainab was different from her mum when it came to such matters about what numbers to pick and not to pick. It might be of much importance and one might have to regret later, if one should find out the person who had called was someone that had plan on helping one. She hadn’t thought about the reason behind her mum’s principles yet she knew she would have some reasons behind that.

She had thought so much that, she didn’t know the phone had rang the first time while she was lost. When it rang the second time with vibration, she was back from her voyage. She picked the call, yet still afraid.

“Hello, who is this? Oh! Peter. I’m fine and you?”

“Nothing much really. I just decided to call your number for the first time and you know, I don’t want you to worry yourself about your friends. The police would find them soon, once it has been reported.” Peter said from his end.

“Ok dear, thanks.” Zainab replied. She wanted to break down but she restrained herself so as not to get Peter worried.

“Have their parents called you?”

“No they haven’t! You see, I even thought they were the one calling when the phone rang. I was so afraid,” her mood changed and before you could know it, she started crying.

“I just don’t know what to tell them if they call!” Her words were not that clear. They were said in between throaty-sob.

“Hello dear, please don’t cry! They will be fine. Just keep calm.” He paused for a moment to think about what he wanted to tell her.

What would be her reaction if he should say it? He knew she was in no mood for whatever he would say. How valuable was her friends to her? He had seen the way she reacted in school, yet he felt, that could also give her full assurance.

“I love you Zainab,” he finally let it out after the long silence.

She didn’t know what to say. She was surprised at his words when she wasn’t supposed to be but, this was a guy that had said it in the time she needed it. Her eyes glowed and she wiped off her tears. The worries were starting to depart, to crawl away from her mind.

Rather than disgracing herself. She quickly made up her mind.

“Thanks. Would they really be fine?”

“I know they’ll be fine dear. Just trust me they’ll be fine!” He assured as if he knew where they had been taken to or what their conditions might be at the moment.

What if they are dead? Or may be they had been taken out of Lagos?

“Okay! Thanks Peter. I’ll call you later then,”

“Wait wait. Have you called her boyfriend? I mean Fatimah’s boyfriend, Clinton!” Peter put in before she decides to end the call.

“No I haven’t! But would call him now!” She replied.

“Okay, that’s good. I shall call him too, may be while you might have finish talking to him. I know he’ll be worried!”

“Do you think it would be nice to tell him?” Zainab asked when she thought it might not be received well by Clinton.

“At least he should know what’s up dear.”

“Ok then, bye!” She greeted and ended the call.

################################

Adefemi had just finished eating Eba and fresh-fish-stew. He was unable to get up as he had eaten so much, let’s say the Eba was moulded like mount everest. He drank one sachet of water and then belch – such a bush boy.

He had often been angry whenever he came home and met Eba. That was the food his grandpa frequently have prepared almost every blessed day. He had most time wondered why his grandpa and others took Semovita or other solid swallows while he had to always be entitled to Eba. He would pray sometimes while he was on his way home from school that he should at least meet another food.

“God abeg, make I meet like jollof rice for house today o. I don tire for this Eba everyday,” he would look up to heaven.

Though, he could have rejected it if he doesn’t want it but a beggar of his kind had no choice than to eat it. Except he wanted to starve or might have gotten some extra money from grandma which he had saved.

But today, he hadn’t abhorred Eba as a food because he had eaten all his money. Even the one the new student teacher gave him had been spent like today was a party at school.

He had enjoyed himself so well thinking he had some change in his bag that would give him a bus-ride to the nearest bus-stop to his street.

When he got to the class, no money was there again. He searched every corner and opened all books in his bag yet he couldn’t see nothing. Well, God don talk say na trekking go sure pass today be that, he had thought and relaxed.

On his way out of the school complex, he had reasoned which way he should trek through. The way the bus had come in the morning or the second and longer route, which the buses plied in the afternoon/evening?. If he had taken the longer route. He would have either been safe if he left earlier or would have had to run for his life.

“I just pray say make I meet Eba today,” he prayed as he got some distance close to his street. He was tired and knew the only food that could help his life today was the food he doesn’t like.

He managed to stand up now and went to the zinc to wash his plates.

The zinc was edged at a corner of the compound, very absurd place for a zinc to be. The surrounding was a bit different too. There was a large hall there in the house that beers were sold and pepper soup. A bench lay close to the Bar-door.

As he washed, he gaze at those who were drinking. A man using his hand that was across the shoulder of his woman to caress her b0s0m slightly. He acted as if it was dark already. Such shameless man.

He wasn’t sure the woman was a prostitute because she was well dressed. She wore something decent. Her body well covered with hijab that stopped at her stomach.

Was he sure of what he was seeing? He moved his gaze sideways, his head thrown a little backwards. He could see a hand moving like Jerry the mouse would move under a rug, under the hijab.

Yes, he was right. The man’s hand was the thing moving at the right-chest of the lady. He cupped it and pressed. He went rough, then he was gentle again. Adefemi was smiling and enjoying the show but it all got cut-short by his Aunt’s shout.

“Femi!!! Phone eh ring o!” she shouted in yoruba.

He quickly rinsed his hands and hurried into the parlour. It was Zainob his crush on the line. Why this girl dey call me na? Person wey never gree for me. I just pray say make she say yes as I pick this call o. I go happy die! He thought and picked the call.

“Hello Zainob. Bawo ni? (how is it?)”

“Mo wa joor (I’m fine)” she replied.

Though Zainob was a little good at speaking english. Adefemi preferred speaking to her in their native dialect, yet Zainob would always want to speak english.

“You don’t know how to speak yoruba, so don’t force yourself,” she teased.

Adefemi laughed but he was not that pleased with his own laughter. He wanted her to go straight to the point. Why had she called? He had heard her times without number in school, telling him not to try speaking yoruba because he couldn’t speak it well.

“Ehn, I hear abeg! So what’s up?”

She guffawed before she was able to reply him. He wasn’t sure may be she laughed cause of him or something but it later appeared she had been `discoursing’ with someone at the background.

“Nothing much jare! I just decided to say hi to my brother.” She laughed again.

It irritated him why she had said that. Which kind mumu brother this one dey find now? Abi this one na fool ni? He said in his mind. He felt like hissing but got hold of himself. Waited for some few minutes without a word.

“Hello! Are you there?” She broke the silence not knowing may be he was – or was not still on the line.

“Yes! I’m here. See Zainob, we are not brothers and sisters. Cut the poo!”

“What do you mean by poo?” She said, then laughed without waiting for a reply. “Okay Adefemi George” she paused to put him on suspense.

No one had ever called his full name without having something serious to say. He knew whenever it was called like that, it meant something serious was about to be said. But he couldn’t hope. He just wanted to avoid breaking his own heart on unnecessary hope.

“I have accepted o!” She concluded.

“Accepted what?” He was surprised.

“Accepted na, abi!” She laughed. May be she was trying to play prank on him, he couldn’t tell.

He wanted to ask if she was talking about accepting his proposal to be his girlfriend or to stop calling him her brother. Suddenly, the call ended. It must have been lack of airtime. He check his own balance and it read 0:00naira.

Not long, a beep and a message. Might be some service message. He wanted to delete it as usual when he saw the surprise message.

“I love you Adefemi,” with a number he couldn’t tell as Zainob’s or anyone but he was sure it would be hers. “Arh! Thank God! At last, this babe don gree for me,” he soliloquized.

There was a tinge he felt. May be the feeling when a girl had just given a guy such reply. His mood had changed into an ecstatic one. He looked up to heaven and thank God again. Then, he felt he needed credit to call zainob and ask may be it was she who sent the message but there was no money.

“I go gaz go school early tomorrow be that o.”

We shall see may be it was Zainob or not!

************************************************

As he sped on, he noticed that the street was gradually closing in. He saw from distance there was no proceeding path to drive on but he was lucky there was a turning by the right and the tyres screeched, he took the turn.

David’s bike was closing in now and Fatimah and Mariam had seen him. They were now relieved someone knew they had been kidnapped. Though, they were supposed to maintain their calm, yet they cried and b@nged at the windscreen on as if the rescue should just come like a thunderous wretch.

Before the bike could take its own turn, a car pulled out of the car park. The street was narrow and could only contain just a bus or a car. The bike rider held brake and David and the man shifted forward from the seat as the bike halted.

“Oga do fast na, abi God wan punish you,” the bike rider yelled. He had suddenly been really into the case now as he had seen the young girls.

He was a Mopol who was on mufti. He had come to eat at a house very close to the bus-stop of the incidence. A Mopol he was – was also a gangster. He too – often patronise those who sell weed at under-bridges. His face were clumped together, very strenge like a crocodile’s scales, and his eyeballs bloodshot red.

David didn’t have a clue about what or who the man was. He just saw him as an `okada man’ and was the only rescue means he could get at the point the bus sped off the scene.

“Which kind weyrey be this na?” David cursed.

The Mopol seeing that the man had ‘L’ fixed to the plate-number of the car knew this was a learner and could take the whole world to pull out and finally turn. He was angry and he wanted to come down but he remembered what was on, what he was after.

Once he looked forward. He noticed the bus had gone very far. On the landscape, the bus was getting smaller and smaller. Without having much thoughts, the Mopol took the bike round the front of the car that was trying to pull out when he saw a little space that could contain the bike and continued the chase, ignoring the driver of the car who was pulling down the door-mirror.

“If you scratch my car. I go show you pepper today.”

Meanwhile, as the kidnapper zoomed on in lightning speed. He saw a red indicative light blinking. He looked through it and saw it was the petrol gauge. It was blinking red and the reader on the upper part that looked like clock handles that ticks – had had the hands drop down to 0%.

“Wahala wa o! Ko ma is petrol mo ke! (There is no petrol again!)”

He gazed into the rare view mirror to see how far his pursuers were and was happy they were now far off than before. He thought about what next step he would take!

6:30pm

To Be Continued…