Love And Lust Part 1

"I shouldn't be here." Even as Lisa said this to herself, her legs moved forward steadily. She had no control over them, their determined strides contrasted with her quivering heart. She got to the gate and knocked. 'Leave! Leave now. It's not too late to back out' a small voice whispered in her ears. She turned slightly to leave, then the gate opened. She smiled tentatively at the security and walked into the elegant duplex. The evening breeze ruffled her hair, sending it flying in several directions. Harmattan season was near. She patted the hair, walked hurriedly to the door and rang the doorbell. Her heart was now beating loudly. 'You can still leave. If that door opens, there is no going back.' the small voice whispered again. She glanced back at the security who sat in a plastic chair, whistling an old tune. Then the door opened.

The bright smile that greeted her was reassuring. Her mind steadied. She smiled back and entered. Everything would be alright. Nobody would find out.

The living room was beautifully painted in shades of red, yellow and orange. The sofa was a soft cushion in a lovely shade of brown, an exquisite glass table sat on a soft orange centre rug. The effect was relaxing. She sat down as he went to get some drink for her. She shouldn't have come here but suddenly, all her defences fled. While she was here, she would be bold enough to do everything she had been fantasising for weeks now. Abiye came back with a glass and a pack of Chivita juice on a silver tray.
She smiled at him. He smiled back and poured the juice for her. Awkward silence. She shifted closer to him till their thighs touched. She saw his Adams apple bob up and down. She smiled. She put her hand on his thigh and squeezed lightly. He remained still. She could see his chest pounding away. She put her hand on his chin and lightly pushed his face to hers. Then she kissed him.

She woke up with a start the next morning. The sun was almost up. She hurriedly showered and began dressing. She found her shirt behind the chair and put it on. She went to the mirror and combed her hair slowly, her mind reliving the past moments. Abiye was sleeping soundly, his body relaxed and his mouth hanging open. She felt nauseated and went to throw up. She flushed, hoping the sound wouldn't wake Abiye. She grabbed her bag and was about leaving when his voice stopped her.
"Where are you going?"
She paused. "Home."
"Will I see you this evening?" He turned to look at her.
"No." She still faced the door.
"Why?"
She didn't answer. She opened the door and walked out into the morning sun. She hailed a cab and went home.

Home was a one bedroom apartment she shared with Amaka, or Doris as she preferred to be called. Doris was still sleeping. She dropped her bag on the bed and changed into a comfortable short and an old tank top. Her eyes fell on the dresser. Her engagement ring lay there, the diamond glittered in the early morning sun. She checked her phone. Desmond had called severally. The nausea came again.

That evening as she walked into church in black trousers and a pink shirt, the ushering uniform for the evening, she felt sure that everyone would know what she had been up to. Everything seemed normal. No accusing finger pointed at her, no one noticed how black her soul had become. She felt stained and dirty, her skin still crawled. She greeted Gilbert and Judith in her department and took a stand behind the first row. Desmond was already in church, seated at the front row as all the pastors did.

Thirty minutes into the service, Abiye walked in. Her body knew the moment he walked in even before she saw him. He walked past her, his familiar scent followed closely. She closed her eyes and saw him as he had been last night. She quickly opened them and looked straight at him. He gave her a look filled with hidden messages, glanced down at the engagement ring on her finger, then he sat down. Her body started to shake. The nausea came again. She swallowed and bit her tongue sharply. Different scenarios ran through her mind till the service ended.
As people poured out of the building, she went to the back seat where she had kept her bag and sat down heavily, taking deep breaths. Then a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up. Desmond. She smiled at him. He didn't smile back.
"Where were you last night? I called several times. You didn't pick." He sat down next to her.
"Am sorry. I forgot my phone in the parlour last night." She hoped he wouldn't see the weakness in her eyes.
He smiled and took her hand. "Are you okay?" He asked with a look of concern. "You seem a bit tense." He said, brushing the hair from her face with his hand.
"Am fine. I just need a good sleep tonight." She replied.
Somebody called out 'pastor Desmond' in the front row. He stood up. "Wait for me by the car. Am coming."

"Okay" she said but he had gone. She carried the bag and went outside, answering the greetings that came her way with a smile. She got to the car and leaned on it, hoping desperately that Abiye had left. She looked up and saw him coming. No such luck. He reached her and immediately took her hand, squeezing her ring so it bit into her skin.

"What are you doing?" she muttered through gritted teeth.
"Meet me at the back staircase right now." He left.

She looked around. Nobody seemed to notice. She walked slowly to the back staircase, hoping nobody would suspect anything. Abiye was leaning on the wall. He smiled when he saw her.

"What do you want Abiye?" she asked coldly.
He frowned. "Last night you were all over me. Now you're asking what I want?" He seemed perplexed.
She smiled bitterly. "Last night was a mistake."
He paused, then took a deep breath.
"If last night was a mistake, then we're going to make that mistake again and again. You think you can use me to slake your lustful desires then dump me? Think again."

He pulled her close roughly and kissed her. She struggled in his arms but it didn't last. Soon, she began kissing him back. She didn't know how long they stayed there. She would have continued if he hadn't pulled away.
"Now tell me last night was a mistake."
She didn't say a word.
"I'll see you tonight." he said.

A throat cleared behind them.

To be continued.

In The Jungle

Emmanuel was only nine when his mother sent him off with Mrs Obilor, a rich woman in her thirties who needed domestic help. He had travelled to the city with her and there, had become a cook, cleaner, gardener, babysitter, and laundryman. It had not been an easy task but when he remembered the weathered lines on his mother's face, he got the strength he needed. He was an only child of the late Mazi Mpi, the village palm wine tapper who had been doing quite well until he fell from a palm tree and died days later.

His mother always reassured him of her prayers and the weight of carrying on the family name rested heavily on his young shoulders.

Mrs Obilor had three children, a three year old boy and two daughters of five who were quite mischievous. They delighted in hiding his washing soaps or pouring salt into his food so they could see whatever creative punishment their mother deemed fit to give him. He didn't mind, even though his little body carried many scars. Until the day the twins happened to be playing around with the gas. He was sixteen at the time. The lick of flames that crept up from the cooker seemed to enchant them so they switched it off and on again and again. They left the gas unattended and wandered off to another play when Emmanuel came to prepare indomie for their lunch. The flare of gas had caught his shirt and burnt part of his hand severely before he was able to remove it.

Mrs Obilor had shouted on seeing the burn, then had given him an ointment to apply. The oil brought no relief. Three days later, the burn started to smell. His hand felt weak. That night, Mrs Obilor had come into his room, packed his clothes and sent him away quietly. He knew nobody in the city, he had no means of getting home. So he took to the street, begging alms. The money came in trickles. Nobody paid any attention to the boy on the street. Some days he didn't eat. It was on one of such days that he wandered to Orlu street. He hadn't eaten in three days, his belongings had been stolen in the incomplete building he had left them in. He had nothing. Despair tugged at his soul. He sat by a gate, crying silently.

Then the smell of freshly cooked soup wafted into his nose. His stomach grumbled in anxiety. He looked around, the street was quiet. It seemed everybody had gone to work or school. He walked through the bush to the back of the compound, scaled the wall and jumped into the compound. It was a small but beautiful house. He walked around to the back until he got to the kitchen. Leaning on the wall, he peeped in. The pot of soup was on the gas, steaming hot. His mouth watered and he opened the kitchen door, making a grating noise he had not anticipated. He darted inside to grab the pot. He didn't expect anybody in the house.

But Ochuko, the first son of the Belema family was inside his room, locked up and smoking marijuana. He had just returned from school. He heard the slight creaking of the kitchen door, stood up immediately and tiptoed to the kitchen. He peered in and saw the huddled figure of Emmanuel on the floor, eating straight from the pot his mother had just prepared before she went out. He grinned wickedly and grabbed the pestle by the door.

Emmanuel never heard the footsteps behind him, all he felt was the blow from the pestle that tore open his head. Blood spilled out, soaking his shirt and running into the pot. He slumped on the ground, his mind in a tumultuous whirlwind of pain. He couldn't move as Ochuko grabbed him and carried him outside the gate.

Ochuko, dumped him on the ground and began shouting thief. Soon, Emmanuel was surrounded by a small crowd. Ochuko grabbed a nearby wood and began hitting his head, the blood that splashed on his shirt added to his excitement. It wasn't the first time he was spilling blood. He had been a henchman in his cult. Soon, another hand grabbed wood lying about and joined Ochuko. A third hand materialised with a machete and joined the melee, the crowd watching with curiosity. Nobody thought to say or do anything. They all wanted to see what would happen to the thief. The thief lay motionless on the ground, unable to lift his battered hand.

After several minutes of frenzied beatings, Ochuko left the group and ran to the generator house. He grabbed the tin of fuel, snatched the matchstick on the gateman's window and ran back outside. The onlookers cheered as he poured the fuel on the unconscious body. They watched with morbid fascination as he lit the flame and threw it on the body.

The Kidnap

The baby was in his stroller in the mall, the biggest mall in the city that attracted thousands, especially on weekends. There were couples holding hands and giggling, friends hanging out and having fun, the old trying to understand what the noise was all about and the serious shoppers who hardly smiled. But everyone was busy. A few sat at the restaurant, sipping cool drinks and talking gaily. 

The music was an old love song, dimming the voices. Still the baby slept in his stroller, blissfully dreaming of milk and candies. When the stroller moved, the baby didn't wake up. He didn't notice that the hand and face was different. The strange hands took the stroller to the second floor before picking him up. The baby's face settled on a smooth material and soft chest, the thick smell of the perfume intruded and roused him up. He looked at the face holding him. That wasn't his mother. Then he opened his mouth wide and began to scream with all energy. The woman holding him smiled nervously and began to pat his back. It didn't work. The cries began to attract attention. She immediately brought out a feeding bottle from her bag and put the nipple in his mouth. He sucked tentatively, then rejected the milk. It was cold. The woman hugged him close. She stepped on the moving staircase and descended to the last floor. She walked past the security woman who was sitting on a yellow plastic chair and went into the big car park.

The security woman, Ruth, was bored. The task of standing for hours while people walked in and out was one that encouraged boredom. She usually played a game as she stood there, trying to determine the personalities of the people who walked in. They were always the same. She could tell when a married man brought his mistress to shop, the guilty boyfriend and his angry girlfriend, the husband and wife on a tight budget, even the young ones who came in just to take pictures. The first bites of hunger were beginning to gnaw on her stomach and her mind was trying to decide between buying snacks with juice or going out to buy bole, roasted plantain with fish when the woman passed with the baby.

She looked absentmindedly, then paused. There was something about that baby. Something was at the back of her mind but she couldn't place it. Meanwhile the woman got to her car and opened the back door. She put the baby in the back seat and was moving to get into the drivers seat.
Suddenly, Ruth remembered. That morning, a couple had walked in with that baby. She remembered them because she had watched the husband struggle to get the stroller out of the car as the wife watched impatiently. She could see the woman's arm getting heavy from carrying the chubby boy so she had gone to offer her help. The wife had looked at her disdainfully and snubbed her open arms. Ruth had left angry and gone back to her post, wondering how somebody so rude could have such a handsome baby.
Ruth began to run to the car. The woman was already driving away. She took a detour and moved to the west side and stood directly in front of the car. The woman stopped the car, frowning. She pulled down the window and stuck her head out.

"What is it?" she asked impatiently.
Ruth motioned to the security guards at the gate. Two of them began to walk towards her. She walked to the woman and peeped into the car. The baby was in the back seat, still crying.
"Is there any problem?" the woman asked again.
"Please step out of the car madam." Ruth said and stood politely by the door, her eyes on the ignition.
"What is wrong with you? I need to leave now. As you can see, my baby is hungry. Get out of my way." The woman said.
"Madam step out of your car. I will not repeat myself." Ruth said fiercely.
The woman switched off the ignition and came down, muttering angrily.

The two guards came up to her. "What's happening here?" asked Peter, the oldest guard there asked.
"What nonsense is this? What kind of embarrassment is this? Is this how you treat your customers? I want to talk to your manager." The woman shouted.

Ruth ignored her and turned to Peter.
"This woman has stolen this baby, I know the...." a wild slap interrupted her. The woman grabbed her shirt and began screaming.
"Are you mad? How dare you insinuate that I stole this baby? Do you know who I am? Do you know who my husband is? Where is your manager? Call him..." she directed at Peter.
"Madam calm down." Peter said, trying to placate her.
"Don't tell me to calm down. This woman must be fired for this. Call your manager here." she still held Ruth by the collar.

Peter placed a phone call and briefed Mr Nyebuchi the manager.
"He's on his way madam" he told her as he dropped the call.
He took Ruth aside and asked "are you sure? Se,e this woman will make sure they fire you oh. Better apologise now and let her go before manager gets here."
Ruth smiled wanely. A small crowd had gathered around, watching intently.

Mr Nyebuchi hurried down, his short fat frame jiggling up and down as he walked fast.
"What's going on here?" he asked even before he reached them.
The woman turned to him.
"Are you the manager?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Listen, you are going to sack this woman here. She has insulted me."
"What did she do?" Mr Nyebuchi interrupted.
"I was leaving to go and feed my hungry baby when she stopped me and accused me of stealing my own child. Can you imagine this thing, insulting me?"

Mr Nyebuchi took a deep breath.
"Madam, right before they called me here, I received a call from my security on the fourth floor about a missing baby. It seems this two incidences are related. You'll have to wait while I call the other couple looking for their child."

Ruth could see the woman's heart beat faster. She smiled inwardly and leaned on the car beside the side window so she could keep an eye on the baby.

The couple arrived. It was the rude woman. She rushed to the car and peered in, heaving a sigh of relief as she saw the baby in the back seat, now sleeping. She turned to the other woman, the kidnapper, and gave her a slap. The other woman reeled.

The rest happened quickly. The kidnapper was kept in the security room awaiting police custody. The relieved couple took their baby and went to the car. The mother couldn't stop kissing her sleeping baby. The father watched her happily.
It took ten minutes before the wife remembered. She went to Ruth who had gone back to her post.
"I...i..i..want to apologise. I know I treated you shabbily this morning. But..you saved my baby..." tears rose to her eyes and spilled down her face.
Ruth smiled. "You don't have to apologise madam. I understand."
"Thank you so very much" the wife said and hugged Ruth.
Of course Ruth was offered some compensation. She refused it.

The Black Tussle

"Carrie, oh Carrie, how I love you" Priye was singing in his Donald duck voice, his dark blue shirt was a sharp contrast to his light skin. He looked as handsome as the first time she saw him, sitting on the steps and sipping a tropic alcoholic drink covered with a brown paper bag. He always sat outside his father's house with his two dumb friends, gisting and laughing at people who walked by. 

Carrie pretended not to hear him. She walked past, swaying more extravagantly so her flayed pink shirt danced above her knees, showing off her spotless straight legs. She was just sixteen but she knew the dance.
So she went everyday, always an excuse to go buy something, anything towards evening. Any excuse to see Priye's face and hear his funny antics as he tried to profess his love. He was only four years her senior. She knew the hard-to-get game was getting old so she made a plan. On the Friday of that week, she would finally give him an answer.

Although she never told anybody, her sister, Violet, knew. She could tell from the shine in her eyes, always teasing her. Priye was the popular boy in the area, feeding off his father's fame. His tall lanky frame and light complexion, coupled with his dark curly hair and pink lips earned him the term 'oyibo'.

She dressed carefully that Friday, stealing some of violet's lip gloss to make her lips shine. She styled her hair artfully and left the house on the pretext of going to buy popcorn for her little brother. She slowed down as she came towards Priye's house and started her cat walk. It was a waste. Priye was not there. Just his two dumb friends snickering and laughing.

Her smile dimmed and she walked past like she was in a hurry. Priye was inside, she knew. His two friends wouldn't be standing outside if he was not around. She was going to say yes to Priye today, come hell or high water. She spent as much time as she possibly could, to make sure he would be out by the time she walked past again.

This time, she saw him. He was coming out from his house, wearing a red singlet on an army green short. She stood straight and was about to start her famous walk, when she noticed that he wasn't alone. He was with a girl, they were coming out together. His hands were on her shoulders possesively and even though her back was turned, she couldn't mistake that purple skirt and green top the girl wore. It was Violet. She stood still and watched as they hugged and Priye gave her a goodbye kiss. Violet giggled and sashayed away.

It took ten minutes before she could get her legs to move. She walked woodenly past the boys. Priye acted unabashed. He didn't know he had been seen. She ignored his calls and went home.

Violet was lying on the bed, reading one of her novels. She dropped the popcorn on the bed and asked her "What were you doing with Priye today?"
Violet paused, her eyes went hard. "What business of yours is that? You've been playing hard to get so I took over." she replied staunchly and went back to her novel, like it didn't matter.
"But you knew he was asking me out. You knew I liked him." she exploded as tears filled her eyes.
Violet hissed long and hard. "If you liked him so much then why haven't you said yes? You think you're the prettiest girl abi? You think you're finer than me. You want to date Priye so that you'll be boasting that you have the finest and richest boyfriend in this area abi? Let me see how that will happen."
"Yes am finer than you. Yes am prettier than you. Is it my fault that boys like me instead of you? Am I the one that told you not to be fine?" she burst out.
Violet dropped her novel and stood up shaking her head. She walked to Carrie and released a sound slap on her face, her eyes filled with hatred.

Carrie stood there, shocked. If it came to a fight, Violet would beat her black and blue. She was helpless. She was the one supposed to date Priye. She was the most beautiful girl in the area. Everybody said so. How could she show her face again if she lost him to a less prettier girl? Violet of all people.
Then an unrealistic calm took over. Suddenly she knew what she had to do. Nobody saw her as she left the house or as she came back. She waited until the food had been dished and her mother had left the kitchen. Then she went into the kitchen and looked at the plates. She knew Violet would pick the soup with the big meat. So she poured the rat poison into that soup and went away. True enough, Violet picked that soup and ate it. She watched her gleefully, her mind not bothered about anything. All she could see was Priye.

Neptonia

Junior was eating sweet jellof rice seated beside the couch. His head was bent as he read his new reader. He scooped spoons of rice as he turned each page and chewed slowly, his mind and mouth in perfect rhythm. A small feet appeared by his plate. He didn't turn his head nor acknowledge the feet. He kept on reading. 

Then a big feet came and stood for a while. He didn't move. His mind was faraway in Tokyo, dreaming of a place where the cars swam and the oceans wailed and flew at the same time. His mind was in a place where the sky was green, the aqua green he saw in swimming pools in movies. He wanted to see a dog quack and a rabbit paddle a boat. He wanted the alligators to sing in perfect soprano voices and he wanted to feel the salty spray of the ocean as it wailed and flew across his head. He wanted a place where the grass grew taller than his head and he watched the sun set beautifully on a kayak. He wanted the moon to sing to him haunting hymns and touch his cheek gently. He wanted the world empty and he alone in this world. He called it "neptonia". He wanted to be in neptonia, where nothing was impossible and the world was turned upside down into a mashless goo. 

He wanted to swim in sweet boiling sugar water alongside a dolphin with red, blue and green eyes. He wanted the birds to stomp ungracefully so close to the water that he could reach out and touch them. He wanted the big whale to be his ever present companion, knocking down yellow and red vases awkwardly as he went by. He wanted the little fishes to carry him to the huge tree that would hug him close and carry him so high there would be no difference between him and the green sky. He wanted his body to be coloured aqua blue, aqua green and slashes of yellow, red streaks and purple violet flowers here and there. He wanted neptonia and he refused to wake up from his dreams.

In the full moon, he would leave through the window, crawl up the short fence and wander aimlessly. Those were the times he wanted to be a werewolf. He would imagine his teeth growing longer and sharper, his bones getting harder and his skin covered in hairs. He would make howling noises with his small voice and pull the grass. He wanted to be in the books. His own book. Where he called the shots and made the rules. Where he didn't feel so small and irrelevant. He wanted to fast forward into the future where a single tall violet would be standing on a field of grass and he would be it's sole friend.
He wanted the trains and the cars and the houses and the bags and the shoes and the clothes and the humans to disappear forever, so he could live in his own perfect world.
He often dreamt of building his own bubble where he would exist and be anything he wanted. He wanted the world to love him. In his rage, he wanted to destroy the world. In flashes of rusty reds and green blues, he wanted sweet music that would calm his spirit and heal his soul. He wanted acceptance. Everywhere he looked, it wasn't coming. The breaking of a new day was the breaking of senseless omelette to him. He hated it all. He hated them all.
The world he wanted, he desired and craved, the world that his stomach wanted to birth forth in sweet agony, neptonia, was not a dream anymore. It was not far away. The world was him. Neptonia was all his dreams, and agonies. Neptonia was to him as a drink to an alcoholic. Neptonia was to him as the baby's cries for the mother's milk. Neptonia was the fiery slash of water that would sway his soul and fill every pore, every cell, every hunger inside of him. His soul was a bottomless drum, getting deeper each day. And no one noticed. No one cared. He was all alone, empty. He had nothing left to give. His soul was weary and dragged down. The only constants in his life were the colours, the fearsome reds, the deep purples, the hazy violets that were never clear, the gory blues and yellows mashed together in a representation of nothingness. Neptonia was not a colour. It was him.

The Junior Boy

"What are you doing here?" The sharp voice startled Daniel. He brought his head up. It was a girl, a senior girl. He knew her face. She was said to be the girlfriend of Senior Kelachi, the most wicked senior in the boys dorm. 
Embarrassed, he tried to wipe the tears in his eyes surreptitiously but her smile told him she had already seen them. She walked closer, avoiding the stones and wild grasses. They were at a small farm behind the staff quarters. He suddenly remembered he was supposed to be in class. He stood up immediately, "Good morning senior" he said. He stood there, wondering what excuse he could give her for loitering during class periods.

She sat down in the spot he had been sitting, beneath the palm tree.
"Your name is Daniel right?" she asked.
"Yes.." he stammered out, wondering how she knew his name.
She smiled. "I saw you when your parents and your sisters came to drop you. Cute little girls. How are they?"
"They are fine. Thank You." He said confused.
"Why were you crying?"

Daniel was embarrassed. The heat rose to his cheeks.
"Don't be shy." she said. "You can tell me. Sit down." she patted a spot beside her.
He moved slowly, afraid to sit so close to a senior girl. An image of senior Kelachi's fierce face rose to his mind and he halted.

"I said sit." she said authoritatively.
He sat down meekly, hoping and praying that no senior would come around that area by any chance. This was close to the Lovers spot. The place no junior student dared go close to, especially during the evening prep.
"So...." she said, an expectant look in her eyes.
He shook his head slowly.

"Common, you can talk to me. You can tell me anything."
He was still hesitant.
"Okay, let me tell you a secret. When I came to this school in my Jss 1, I used to come here to cry too."
He looked up at her surprised. He couldn't imagine her in tears.
"Why?" he asked timidly.
"The usual. I missed my home, I hated this school, I had no friends, not even a school mother." she smiled sadly in recollection and nudged him with her shoulders.
"Is that the same reason you're crying?" she asked.
He nodded weakly, the tears came back to his eyes.
She laughed lightly. "You don't have to be afraid. Everybody goes through it. Even the mean senior boys. And girls."

He smiled as he thought of senior Kelachi in tears. It just wasn't possible.
"You know you're a fine boy. I'll take care of you. Don't worry. You're in love house abi?"
He nodded.
"Let me walk you back."

He nodded again, grateful for her presence.
As they got to the junior block, heads began to turn. He knew they were wondering how he was talking and laughing with a senior girl. He grinned broadly and puffed up his shoulders. Let them wonder. She said a short goodbye and left for the senior block.
He could feel the eyes staring at him as he walked into class and went to his seat. His seat mates, Arthur and Friday were still staring. Acting unabashed, he brought out his note and pen.

"How come you know senior Soty?" Friday finally asked.
He smiled. "She's my friend."
"Don't you know she's senior Kelachi's girlfriend? Let him not catch you with her oh" Friday said hotly.
The banging of the desk heralded the entry of the Geography teacher. The class stood up and greeted. Daniel's mind wandered. How would senior Kelachi react if he saw him, a mere junior boy talking to his girlfriend?
Dread filled his heart. He wasn't ready. Senior Kelachi always gave the meanest and most creative punishments. Sometimes, it was better he flogged than punished. His slaps were known to produce bells inside a boy's ear that would ring for days. There were so many rumours about senior Kelachi. He heard that one time, senior Kelachi had made an ss2 boy sleep on a tree outside the boys dorm all through the night. Another time, he had put a small junior boy inside a locker and closed it for a whole day. Daniel didn't know if the rumours were true. He didn't want to find out either.

He got through class and went to the dining hall for lunch. Junior boys kept staring at him like he had grown horns, increasing his fear.
It was in the evening as he was preparing for night food when he heard the counting in the first dorm room. He hurriedly picked his shorts and sandals, putting his stainless plate under his armpit while trying to hold on to his spoon. He didn't make it. He heard the big footsteps and stood still. The whole dorm stood still.
A big voice rang out "Who is Daniel here?"
All eyes pointed at him. He raised his hand timidly. Senior Kelachi walked to him and sat down on top of his locker. "The rest of you go for food."
The other junior boys scampered out, each grateful they were not Daniel at the moment.
Daniel stood still, wondering what the senior boy had heard. The senior's big hand dropped on his shoulders.
He looked up.
"Where's your bed?"
He pointed to his bed on the top bunk. Kelachi picked it up, rolled it up and put it under his armpit.
"Where's your bucket and keg?"
Daniel shook his head. "They are missing, Senior."
Kelachi smiled and ruffled his head gently.
"Let's go. I'll send some boys to bring your locker later."
Daniel followed slowly, not really understanding what was happening.

Kelachi got to his dorm and dropped the foam on an empty down bunk, placed close to a single bunk. Only the seniors were allowed to use single bunks. Kelachi motioned for him to sit down on the single bed.
He sat down slowly.
"Soty asked me to take care of you. So now, you're my school son."

A Thin Line

Rachael knew she was in trouble when her husband came back from work, ignored the 'welcome dear' she called out and went straight to his room with his face tightly squeezed in a frown. Her hands started shaking so bad she took calming breaths before she could steady them. She went into the kitchen and put the water to boil. Martins liked his eba really hot. She set the pot on the gas to warm up the soup while arranging the plates on a tray.

She stood by the counter, trying to remember if she had dressed the bed after the nap. She really couldn't tell and it worried her. The whistling of the kettle rattled her she almost dropped the plate she held. She set the table and sat down to wait.

Martins came down, dressed in his black silk pyjamas that highlighted his dark brown eyes. His jaw was tightly clenched, his eyes distant. He settled into his seat and opened his plates without a word. He paused for a moment, then turned to look at her. She jumped and rushed to pour cold water into his cup, silently berating herself for forgetting to pour the water before he came.

He ate slowly like one with heavy things in mind. The eba on his plate was almost finished when she heard a sharp sound from his mouth. She tensed, her hands steady on the soup in front of her. Her heart beat faster, she knew what was coming but it still surprised her when the slap came. Her pale white skin was already turning red, the imprint of his hand showing clearly.

"How dare you serve me food with sand?" he shouted.
Her hand held her stinging jaw, tears dripping into hand still stained with yellow eba.
"Useless" he muttered as he walked away.

She sat there until the tears stopped coming before packing the plates and washing them off. She put them in the rack and climbed the stairs slowly to the room. Martins was already on the bed, absently fiddling with the remote. He paused as she came in. She went to the dresser and started cleaning her face. She knelt down and said a short prayer before climbing into bed, lying with her back to Martins.
"Am sorry." he said softly.
She ignored him and closed her eyes.
"I know you're not sleeping. I said am sorry." he said with a louder tone.
Still she said nothing.
He fell back on the bed and turned his back to her.

She didn't sleep well. He was gone when she woke the next morning, a wad of cash on her dresser. She didn't touch it. It would stay there until he returned. She dressed and went to the car towards afternoon, wearing a black hijab with beautiful patterns over her red gown. Her lip was shouting red as she entered into her jeep and drove off. She went to her mother's supermarket and picked the things she needed. Her mother was not around so she left to the nearby fast food.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder and turned in surprise..
"Hello Rachael" said the cool calm and deep voice that only belonged to Chika.
Her smile was radiant as she hugged him, his musky scent bringing back memories.
"Mehn guy, where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while now." she asked.
He smiled and touched her nose lightly. "Were you missing me?" He was grinning.
"Oh please." she held up her hand "See this?" she asked teasingly, pointing to her ring.
"Yeah yeah, I see it clearly." he hugged her again. "You came to eat here?" he inquired.
"Yes yes, am famished. I've not had anything since morning."
"Keeping in shape I see." He replied.
"No am not. All this..." she ran her hand down her body"...is natural. No exercise, no diet." she smiled proudly.
"I know Rach." he said simply.
Her smile dimmed. He was the only person who called her Rach.

"Common, let's go eat." he put his arm around her and led her gently into the fast food. They ordered their meals and settled down to eat in comfortable silence.
"So what's up with the hijab? Are you now a muslim?" he asked in the middle of the meal.
She cleared her throat and sipped some water before answering.
"Not at all. It's kinda trending now you know." She smiled tightly.
"Hmmm." He replied knowingly.
"What's that?" She asked.
"What's what?" He looked perplexed.
"That hmmm you just did."
"I didn't say anything Rach. Why you getting all worked up?" He replied.
"Nothing." She took a deep breath. "It's nothing at all." She went back to her food with great concentration.
Chika covered her hand with his on the table and squeezed lightly, reassuringly.
"You know you can tell me anything right?"
She smiled wanely. "I know."

She went back home driving angrily. Martins was a jerk. A huge jerk. And she was tired of living in fear. She was tired of letting him do whatever he wanted to her.
She sat down on the couch, tapping her foot as her mind whirled. She didn't realize when she slept off. The sound of the door opening woke her up. Martins walked in and stopped as he saw her stretched on the couch.
"Have you been sleeping all day? My dinner better be ready by the time I come downstairs." He stomped away.

She yawned widely and stretched her body, then walked lazily to the kitchen. She opened the fridge to bring out the soup but found herself standing there and staring at the bowl of soup. She stayed there until Martins came downstairs and walked into the kitchen.
He snapped his fingers close to her ears. She turned and looked at him.
"Where's my dinner?"
"In the fridge." she replied and shut the fridge with a bang.
"So what am I going to eat?" he asked slowly like he was talking to a child.
"Why don't you eat me? If you don't know what to eat, go to a fast food. Am going to bed." she slammed the kitchen door and started to climb upstairs. She made it to the room before Martins burst through the door.
"What was that?"
She ignored him and continued combing her hair with a brush.
He grabbed the brush and threw it on the bed.
"I asked you a question."
She laughed bitterly, looking down.
"Martins, Martins, leave me alone tonight. I don't want any trouble. As you can see..." She pointed to her face "...the bruise you gave me last night has not faded. or you want to add more?"

She hissed loud and long and walked into the bathroom. Martins stood in shock. In her mind's eye, she could imagine his mouth hanging open and she burst out laughing loudly.
She heard a knock. "What?" she shouted fiercely.
"Are you okay? You're acting strange." He sounded concerned.
"Now you're worried about me? Since when?"
No reply. She showered and walked into the room. Her heart was bitter. Martins was sitting on the bed, a confused look on his face.
As she lay on the bed to sleep, she turned to him, "Oh, and before I forget, we've not had children this last two years because I've been taking contraceptives. I don't want you killing my children before they come into this world."

Damona Part 4 (Finale)

It had been two weeks since her father died. She had run out of the forest to the road where Papa's friend Mr Douglas had been waiting to take them to the village. He had left with only her, barely comprehending the gibberish she spoke as she tried to explain that papa was dead. 

The village was a small one with plenty of rivers. She and Mr Douglas kept to themselves. They were staying with Papa's mother in the bungalow he had built for her.
Angela had never been to the village. She had never met her grandmother either. Now she knew why. Her grandma had taken one look at her and realised that papa was dead. Grandma had said not to tell anybody of Papa's death, that it wasn't yet time for that. Instead, she had set about been a comfort to her granddaughter. She always took Angela to fetch firewood and water with her, telling everyone who cared to listen that she was her grand daughter. The villagers welcomed her, some had brought gifts of wrappers and decorated pottery on her first day. She asked grand mother why they did that. She had simply replied "You're a Kondra."

She knew Maadam would come for her. She wasn't afraid. She was ready. She didn't wait long. Maadam came with thunders and lightnings, thick clouds that covered the sky and darkened the village, making the villagers scream in terror and run to their houses for safety. Everyone knew this was not an ordinary storm.
She went outside and stood, waiting to face Maadam. The rain drenched her, causing goosebumps to break out all over her skin.
"Go to the Agbaka river. Our family goddess will protect you there." grandma said to her, a knowing look in her eyes.
She nodded and broke into a jog, heading to the river. The sight of the gold-brown long serpent stopped her in her tracks. It stared straight at her, it's head bent regally and tail curled as it poised to strike. Bending down while keeping her eyes on the snake, she scooped some sand in her palm, whispered some words into it and threw it into the air. The snake didn't budge. She narrowed her eyes. This required more.

She picked up a stone nearby, whispered some words and flung it at the snake. It missed. The snake hissed and started gliding towards her. She ran into the bush, picked up a palm leaf and began whispering quickly, the snake getting closer to her. She went behind a tall tree, poured spit into the leaf and leaped out, throwing the leaf at the snake.
She didn't miss this time, the leaf bounced on the snake. She smiled and went back to the road, walking towards the stream. She knew if she looked back, the leaf and the snake would not be seen.

Maadam was standing at the bank of the river, dressed in her white gown and holding a golden scepter. A crown of gold with a diamond on the centre adorned her head. Maria stood by her right, her small frame encased in a white gown. She held no staff.
Angela stood in surprise. She had watched Maria die.
"How are you alive? My father killed you..." she stammered out.
They smiled, a look of triumph on their face.
"It's not so easy to kill me Angela, I've been around a long time." Maria replied. She turned to Maadam and said imploringly " Let me kill her for you Maadam. I offer myself to you my queen!" she bowed low to Maadam.
"No Maria. You are a faithful servant. You have always carried out all your tasks, no matter how difficult. I....will teach her obedience." Maadam turned to Angela.

A lightning bolt hit the spot she was standing. She dived and landed on the sand. She picked up a stone and hurled it towards Maadam. Maadam raised her arms, the stone stopped in mid air, then went straight back to Angela and hit her forehead. She fell back from the force, blood pouring from a gash on her head.
Maadam came to her, holding the scepter in her right hand. "Stay down Angela, you don't want this to go farther."
Angela spit out blood, anger in her eyes "You killed my mother and my father. This ends now." she grabbed a stick beside her and raised her arm to strike. Maadam held her arm, squeezing it till the stick fell. She picked it up and threw it away. Then with her scepter, she began to hit Angela's head.

The pain was blinding and relentless. The wound on her head was streaming blood into her eyes. She raised her hand to block the blows while her left hand searched blindly for a weapon. Her hand touched nothing. She blindly raised up her left hand and held the scepter, taking Maadam by surprise and dragging it away. She hit her once in the stomach with the scepter, using it as a support to stand up. Maadam was bent over in pain.

"Give me that back Angela" she screamed, reaching to take it. Angela whacked her hands with the scepter, taking a step back. Maadam screamed again in pain.
"Give it back to me Angela" she shouted.
"You keep saying that like am actually going to give it back. Are you scared now? You're weak and helpless right? Now watch me take away your power."

Angela brought out a tiny bottle of oil from the side pocket of her shorts and smashed it on the sceptre.
Maadam screamed again in agonising pain, shrinking before Angela's eyes until there was nothing left. She wiped off the blood covering her left eye, looking down at her bloody red shirt.
"Wait!"
She turned to see Maria, coming towards her and immediately held up the now useless sceptre to threaten her.
"Am not here to fight you Angela. I want to pay my respect to you, Maadam." She bowed low in respect to Angela

The Double

"Who are you?" 

The other girl was tall, beautiful and light skinned. She wore a red halter neck top and skinny blue jeans. Her hair was perfectly styled and she had no blemish on her skin. She sat poised on the settee, a soft orange drink in her hands, sipping quietly as she read the Vogue magazine on her laps. She looked up in surprise at the question, her face hardened at the rude and abrupt tone.

"I could ask you the same thing, who are you?" she frowned her lovely face, keeping her drink aside to face her unwelcome companion.
The first girl laughed in derision, dropping her bright pink bag on the side table and taking a fighting stance.
"Considering that I asked you first, let me show you manners. I am Victoria, Ade's girlfriend. So, who are you, again?"

The other girl raised her brow, "am Liz, Ade's fiancee."
"Says who?" Victoria shouted.
"Says Ade, the day he gave me this beautiful ring." she shoved her left hand in Victoria's face, to better show her the gleaming ring.

She took a deep breath, waited a beat before turning back to Victoria who was frowning in confusion. "I don't know what games Ade has been playing with you but am his fiancee, our wedding is in four months time. Before you get a broken heart, just leave." Liz said calmly, a plea in her eyes.

Victoria sat down heavily, like one confused. She looked up at Liz, saying in a small voice "Am carrying his child."
"What!!?"
They sat together, each mind running in circles.

The door creaked open and Ade walked in. Liz ran to him, holding his shirt and crying into his shoulders.
"Why did you do this to me Ade," she kept saying over and over.
Victoria held back, looking at Ade strangely.
"It's not what you think Liz, I can explain."
"Explain what?" Liz exploded. "Explain how you've been keeping another girl? All this time I've been away, I felt I had a faithful man, waiting for my return. I should have known..."
"Listen to me Liz...." Ade interrupted.
"No I won't, there's nothing you can say, no excuse, no explanation. I shouldn't even be surprised. You're a typical man."

She grabbed her bag, making to leave. Ade held her arms and pulled her into his shoulders, she struggled weakly, quieting down into small sobs. Victoria still had not said a word, staring at him.
He sat Liz down gently, then stood up and went inside. Victoria sat down, her face puzzled. It was Ade, yet it wasn't him. Something about him was not right. As she sat contemplating this, he came back into the living room, clutching a picture frame. He went to Liz and showed her the picture. Victoria peeped from her seat.
It was Ade, there were two of them, smiling and waving blue convocation caps into the air.

"That's Adewole, my twin brother, and your boyfriend." he said to Victoria.

Damona Part 3

"What are you saying Maadam? That I should kill my own father?" 
Angela was incredulous. Maadam had no idea what she was asking her to do. 
"I just lost my mother because of you, and now you want me to kill my own father." she laughed bitterly. 

Maadam was quietly watching her, waiting for an answer, so she turned to give her one. 
"I'll think about it."
"You have three days."

Angela woke up. She stood and paced around the room, watching her father as he slept ignorantly. Already her mind was made up. She grabbed her back pack and wore her black canvas. She took the padlock and locked it from the outside. That would delay her father until she got far enough.

Walking into the night, she went straight to the forest, unafraid. She wandered for two days, eating the fruits the forest provided. She only had to survive this for one more day, she thought as she propped herself on a tree trunk and prepared to sleep, until she heard the footsteps. They were approaching her. She grimaced in distaste, Maadam had found her.

She stood up and waited until she saw the young girl walking towards her wearing a pretty white nightgown. She looked like she had just come out of a big mansion. The girl was beautiful and had long black hair.
"Hello Angela, am Maria." The girl said.
"What do you want?"
"Maadam wants to know when and how you'll do the job." Maria replied.

"Are you her servant?"
"No, am her assistant, her best student. You're not the only Kondra you know." Maria smiled cheekily. "Stop asking me questions and give me an answer, you've made me traipse this forest looking for you. I have other things to do."

Angela sat down, unfazed. "I can't do it. That's my final answer."
Maria laughed. "I knew you would say that. I was actually hoping you'd say that. Here's a gift from Maadam."
Angela looked up in time to see the knife poised to strike. She dived and narrowly missed the cut. Maria grunted, she seemed to be enjoying this. She grabbed Angela's hair and pulled her up.
" You little, insolent fool. You think you're the first Kondra asked to kill her father? You should be happy that you were selected. Am going to enjoy this, almost as much as I enjoyed killing my own father."
Angela closed her eyes, welcoming her death. She opened them when she felt Maria's hands release her hair. She turned, watching a red spot appear and grow over Maria's chest until she fell to the ground. The knife in Maria's back glinted in the dark.

She looked up and saw her father running towards her. She ran into his arms, relieved.
"You would have told me Angela, you didn't have to run away." Papa scolded her gently. He shook his head. "I wonder how you survived in this forest alone."
"You know am a big girl now, Papa."
He laughed heartily and lifted her backpack. "Let's go. There's a car waiting on the other side of the road."
"Where are we going Papa?"
"To the village my dear, you have a lot to learn."
They didn't see Maria as she lifted her hand and threw the knife she still grasped. All they heard was the soft thud as it landed and entered into her father's neck. 

Damona Part 2

Papa didn't give her time to ask the questions that flooded. His seeming lethargy deserted him and he sprang into action. 
"I'll answer all your questions. Just go to your room and pack a few essentials in your back pack. We have to leave before the Police gets here." 

He put his arm on her little shoulders and gently pushed her to her room. She tried not to stare at her mother's corpse just lying there, by the staircase. Tears sprang to her eyes as she packed but she brushed them away.
Her world had just come crashing down and there was so much uncertainty. But one thing she knew for certain; her life would never be the same again.

As they got into the car and sped out into the night, she kept taking side glances at her father. He seemed like a stranger to her now. He had always been a very quiet man, one who said little but always lurked in the background like an ever present shadow.

The car came to a stop and they alighted.
"Leave your back pack in the car. We won't be here for long." he instructed.

They walked into the crude building. White plastic chairs were everywhere, with a few persons in white gowns and yellow sashes belted at their waists. They all held huge Bibles under their armpits and were murmuring words she couldn't understand, some moving in a morbid fashion as one having convulsions. They all stared at her as she passed and she put her head down to avoid their eyes.

A lady wearing a red sash indicated for them to sit as she went into a small office by the side. Soon after, a tall robust man with thick beards came out of the office, the woman following behind with her hands demurely behind her back like a loyal servant. The man walked with a quiet confidence that came from years of being in authority, his purple sash giving him a grand look.

He walked to her father, murmured a few words into his ears and then turned sharply to look at her. She shrank back in fright. His eyes were dark, boring into her soul like he wanted to search out all her secrets. He put out his left hand and the lady behind him produced a bell and handed it to him.

He then shouted a few words and rang the bell incessantly as his followers in white started singing and clapping loudly. He jumped up and down around the hall like one possessed until he stopped in front of her, holding out his bell. She stood uncertain. Then he laughed.
He drew circles round her head with the bell then stopped suddenly. He walked abruptly back into his office. Her father stood up and motioned for her to follow. They went into his office decorated with a table and two plastic chairs. He placed the bell on the table beside some big books and sat down. Her father took the other seat and waited.
He cleared his throat.

"You will take her to the Mango river at Obiro. Wash her every morning for seven days. Feed her only raw eggs and mineral. Then her maadam will appear anytime you want her to."

"Thank you father" papa replied, bowing his head in respect and led her out to the car.

They drove for a few miles until she turned to him abruptly and asked " will you now tell me why you killed mama?"
He took a deep breath and stopped the car.

"I have known right from birth that you were a Kondra. I am a Kandra, a male intercessor. It was my destiny to produce one Kondra from my lineage, for which reason I married your mother. Your mother had no idea who I was.
But I had to kill her Angela, it is a law. A Kondra or kandra must eliminate their mates when a child is born. The mate's death purifies the child Kondra.
Please forgive me, but you have a destiny much more important and we must leave here now."

"So my mother is only good as a childbearer? What kind of law would murder an innocent woman?" she shouted.

"Listen Angela, you don't understand anything. You will know very soon."
She sat quietly and absorbed this. There was no explanation, no reason, no logic that would justify her mother's death. She swallowed the bitterness in her heart and asked "Why did you call the damona?"

Papa laughed bitterly. "Am not a murderer Angela. I've never been one. I didn't have it in me to do it. I needed his influence."
He turned to look at her. "Can we go now?"
She nodded slowly.

They drove into the Obioro area where papa led her to a small room with no windows. At night, it got stuffy but she didn't complain. The mosquitoes were not helping either. She didn't speak much, neither did her father. She was not allowed to leave the room, staying alone whenever her father went to buy supplies. She hated her diet of raw eggs but she drank it dutifully, using the mineral to wash the raw taste away.

The seventh day broke in anticipation. They went to the bank of the river. She washed herself and they stood in the water, waiting.
The water started bubbling a few minutes later, rising until her Maadam emerged slowly from the water. She would have turned and run if her father had not been behind her. She couldn't bring herself to touch her, to know if the flesh was real or an illusion. Dressed in white robes and long flowing hair, her maadam was striking.

"What do you want?" Maadam asked her father.
"To know her first assignment."
"Wait for a few days, i'll let you know."

Papa turned her around and they walked away. She knew if she turned back she wouldn't see anything.

Maadam came to her that night.
"Kondra, now you have been purified, you must begin your training."

Angela stared at her with suspicion, "so you knew about my mother's death and you didn't tell me?" the familiar bitterness filled her heart again.
" yes, your mother was a necessary sacrifice."

She frowned in anger. Didn't anybody understand? That was her mother, her mother they had murdered in cold blood. They all acted like she hadn't even being a human being, like she had been nothing, to be forgotten easily. How could she just forget her? Her sorrow threatened to fill her heart. She swallowed it down.

"What do you want me to do?"
Maadam smiled, her eyes hard and cold.
"You will kill your father." 

Damona Part 1

Angela had always seen them, things she couldn't explain, things no one else could see. The first time she had seen one of the creatures hanging on the roof of a building, she ran to tell her mother. 'It's only a dream' her mother had said. But it wasn't a dream. Nobody believed her, they warned her heatedly to stop talking about it. 'Such things are not for kids to talk about' they would say. So she kept it to herself now. It didn't matter how horrible or how kind a creature would seem, it didn't matter what they were doing, she kept silent. They saw her, some even tried to speak to her but she could never hear them.

She called the creatures with white apparels 'faeries' for lack of a better word. The ones with horns and black scales for skin she called 'damona'. For the first ten years of her life, she never understood why only her could see them, until her eleventh birthday when her 'Maadam' visited her in a dream.

Her Maadam was a beautiful and delicate woman with a kind, gentle smile. She always wore a white apparel. She was the one who told Angela that she was a 'Kondra', the one who intercedes. Maadam visited her every Saturday night without fail, always kind and willing to answer all Angela's questions. She was the one who explained to her that a damona influences situations negatively while faeries did so positively.

She had seen them in action, watching as a damona perched on a woman who was arguing loudly on the streets until it erupted into a violent fight. She watched as the woman had bit the other until blood gushed out.

It was a bright Tuesday morning when she saw a damona hanging on the roof of her house. This could not be good. She ran inside the house, calling out her mother anxiously.
"mama, there's something on our roof, we must leave this house, a bad thing is about to happen."
Mama looked at her in surprise.
"Go slowly, what's on the roof?"
"You never believe me when I tell you anything, mama, we must all leave this house." She was crying.
Mama slapped her across the face. "Stop all this nonsense and get to school. Am tired of your tattle tales." She grabbed her arms and dragged her forcibly to the car, throwing her in and slamming the door. Angela was restless in school. She knew the damona was there for a reason, she just didn't know what.

She was in a state of anxiousness until school hours were over and the driver took her home. She ran inside the house, searching for any sign of trouble. There was none. She was perplexed. Her father came home in the evening from work, no sign of trouble there.

She felt uneasy. The damona had been there for a reason. Or had she imagined it? If only it was a Saturday, then she could ask maadam. That would have to wait she thought as she prepared for bed. It wasn't until later that night when she heard a sound. It came again. And again.

She rushed outside her room. There, at the top of the stairs, her dad was having an argument with her mother. It was starting. She went outside through the back door of the kitchen. Sure enough, the damona was hanging on their roof. It looked at her darkly. Frightened, she went back inside. The argument was getting louder. As long as the damona was there, it would only end in violence.

"Mama, papa!" she screamed. They turned to look at her. " Stop arguing please, please I beg you."
"Go back to your room." Her mother shouted harshly. They wouldn't listen. She ran outside again, and shouted at the damona "Get away from here."
The damona gave her a look of contempt. She picked up some stones and threw at him. The stones passed through him and landed noisily on the roof. This was not helping.

Another loud sound sent her scurrying inside just in time to see the slap that sent her mother tumbling down the stairs. She landed like a heap at the base of the stairs and lay still. Angela ran to her and held her head up, trying to stem the blood running down her nose with her hands. Still, she made no movement. Her father walked past and headed into the kitchen, barely glancing at the motionless woman on the floor.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, it could have been hours or mere minutes but she knew the moment her mother drew her last breath, her body became cold and rigid. Still Angela did not leave her side. When at last she stood up, her mother's face was soaked with her tears.
She walked slowly, like one in a trance into the kitchen. Her father was there, nursing a bottle of beer at the counter, staring into the night through the window at the sink.
He turned to look at her, a bleak expression on his face.

"I know you saw it. I know you saw the damona. Am the one who called it here." 

The Situation

It all started innocently. Christopher, a struggling young man, had gone to the backyard of the compound to bring in the clothes he had washed that morning. It was a public compound, with houses as old as the ancient times, with no hope of improvement. The lines were directly behind his neighbour's flat. The sharp smell of urine hit his nostrils as he walked towards the line, a result of the kids who preferred to pee outside than miss any play time. As he bent to pick a shirt that had fallen from his hands, he raised his head and that's when he saw it, a sliver of light coming from a small crack in the window of a bedroom. The window was made of wood, the rains had washed away the brown rich colour of the wood, the years had left many cracks and tears. It wasn't the crack that caught his attention however. It was the image behind it. He could clearly see Ronke, his neighbour's quiet fifteen year old daughter who was rarely seen except when she went on errands. She was standing and gazing at her reflection in the mirror as she tried out different poses in quick succession, wearing a short flighty nightwear. Perplexed, he stayed there, stooped on the floor, watching her until she left the mirror and out of his sight.

Her image stayed with him all through that night into the next morning. Ronke was not exceptionally pretty, he had never really paid any attention to her. The only times he bumped into her was in the mornings when she left early for school and even then, she would offer a mousy greeting his way with her head down, never actually looking at him.
That morning he delayed in his room till he saw her open the door in her school uniform. Not wasting any time, he grabbed his bag and headed out, catching up with her at the gate. He noticed there was something different about her. He couldn't place it. She offered her greeting and walked past him.

It wasn't until he got to his office that it hit him. For the first time, Ronke had not bowed her head to greet him. She had looked directly at him, her dark brown eyes filled with confidence. Her skirt had been shorter too, her shirt tighter. A smile spread accross his face. He recognised the signs.

On getting home that evening, he hurried through his evening ablutions, waiting patiently till it got dark. He picked up some clothes, making a pretext of going to spread them on the line. Nobody used the line in the evenings so he knew he would be alone. Peeping through the crack, he didn't see anybody at first. He adjusted his neck painfully until he could make her out, lying on the bed and going through a phone. She had a wrapper tied on her chest which got to her knees. He continued to watch as her legs danced on the bed excitedly until she put the phone aside and stood up. She grabbed a hair net drying on the mirror stand and covered her hair. She retied the wrapper that was slipping from her waist as she removed a short night wear from the bag lying close to the bed and spread it out on the bed. She put a short towel on her shoulders and went out the room.

She had gone to take a bath. Excitedly, he sat down and began scratching his mosquito feasted legs. The bathroom window was on the front side of the house. He couldn't go there without being seen. The creaking of the door brought him scrambling to his knees, his greedy eyes making their way to the crack.
She had cleaned her body and was spreading the towel out on a thin iron hanger, her wrapper still tied to her chest. She put her long smooth legs on the bed and applied lotion. Then she removed her wrapper and slid into her thin night wear. He grinned excitedly, his mind running wild as he went back to his room.
He could barely sleep that night, her image stayed in his minds eye.

So began the ritual. Every evening, he would wait anxiously until darkness fell before proceeding to his spot beside her window. He barely glanced at her when their paths crossed in the mornings. He was sure she would see the lust written all over him. He began to depend on seeing her image every night before sleeping. He would spend hours lying on his bed, dreaming.

One evening, two weeks later, he went to the crack but nobody was in the room. He waited for about an hour before giving up. He couldn't sleep that night. He kept wondering where she had gone to. She wasn't at the gate the next morning either. After waiting till he was sure he was going to be too late for work, he left. Her room and her parents' seemed deserted. That evening, he paid a courtesy visit to the other tenants. He learned that Ronke had travelled with her parents and would be back at the end of the weekend. As Sunday approached, he got more anxious, more restless. He couldn't wait for his Ronke to be back. In the evening, he saw her. She was carrying a little travelling bag in her arms, her hair was slightly wet from the light drizzles, wearing a brown skirt under a white shirt. She greeted the other neighbours sitting in their varendah before going to her door. He looked around. Her parents were not in sight. He casually strolled to her as she struggled with the padlock on the door.

"Good evening Mr Christopher" she greeted as he approached.
He smiled what he hoped was an easy smile. "Welcome oh. Where are your parents na? I heard you people travelled this weekend."
"They'll be back tomorrow sir. I came back for school tomorrow." she replied.
"Oh, Ok then...let me help you with that."
He took the key from her, making sure their fingers touched as he did. He looked sideways at her. She hadn't noticed.
Suddenly he felt angry. She was looking at her phone, paying no attention to him. Couldn't she see that he loved her? What was so important that she couldn't take a moment to talk with him? He banged the padlock as it opened, making sure he startled her before walking away.
He was in a rage. She didn't really see him or notice him as a person. Every morning, he would risk being late to work just so he would see her in the mornings. He swallowed numerous malaria drugs to appease his legs which were covered in mosquito bites and despite all this, all his sacrifice, she gave him no more attention than she would give a passing fly. He was only fifteen years older than her, why couldn't she just notice him? Even if for one time?

His anger only increased as darkness fell. Strapping a knife to the back of his trouser, he stomped furiously to her window, not caring if anyone saw him. He peeped through the crack, she was sitting on the bed, her bag open in front of her as she folded her clothes. He waited till she left the room, then he tested the window. It wasn't locked. He removed his trouser and spread it on the line, securing the knife to his boxers. He slipped into the room and stood next to the shoe rack behind the door. She came in a few minutes later, humming a song. As she went to the bed and bent forward, he pounced on her, covering her mouth with his hands immediately to stiffle her scream. She struggled until he pushed her violently to the floor and brought out the knife, holding a finger to his mouth. She covered her mouth with her hand as tears filled her eyes. He smiled as he used the knife to cut her skirt open. She covered her legs and moved backwards towards the door, pleading with her eyes. It only added to his excitement. He knelt in front of her and started to unbutton her shirt, ignoring the tears that dripped to his hands. She was moving backwards slowly, he dropped the knife by the side and dragged her forward, going back to work on her buttons. His hands were shaking so much it was taking too long. He didn't see her hands creep downwards. He didn't see her hands reach the silver glinting knife. He was raising his head to grab her hair when the hard thin steel struck. The knife went three inches deep inside his left eye.

Ethelle

When I entered the dormitory, there was some commotion going on. Apparently, there was a tussle over who would be Ethelle's school mother. I smiled. Ethelle was a pretty girl, she had a small stature and a quiet appearance that made you want to take care of her. I wasn't surprised. 
While their arguments were going on, I was in my corner, sitting on my bunk bed, arranging my locker. I deliberately did not want to be involved. I liked Ethelle too but I didn't want to join the foray. It was kind of funny seeing the arguments going on: I saw her first, no you didn't, she likes me, no she likes me.
I could see the confusion in the girl's eyes. She didn't understand what the trouble was all about, like she didn't know she was pretty enough to cause so much arguments.
Then came a bright idea from Oniro, the small smart dark girl who loved gisting about lovers and dark corners. Ethelle would pick who she wanted. The two main contenders agreed shakily, each wondering if they had been kind enough to her to be picked.
I thought privately that this would make the little girl feel too important but I kept it to myself. I didn't want to get involved. I brought out my buckets and started washing.
The girl was sent for. She came as quiet and pretty as you would please, stealing everybody's heart all over again, including mine but being the tough girl I was, I refused to show any interest. I just sat there and washed my clothes.
Then they asked her the big question. Who would you want to be your school mother? She was afraid, obviously not wanting to offend anyone or cause any bad blood between anybody. I almost felt sorry for her but she had her beauty to blame so it wasn't anybody's fault. She stayed quiet a while and Oniro, the mediator who had already picked her school daughter without any fuss, quietly asked again.
What would she do? I wondered. I rinsed my wrapper and started to spread it on the line when she made the most unexpected decision. She walked up to me, still quiet and pretty as you please, and pointed at me. I was shocked but like the 'tough girl' I was, I hid it well and quietly admired the wisdom contained in her small frame.
I felt pleased but at the same time apprehensive. I wasn't sure I could show her the love she needed. I wasn't the type who called everybody 'sweetheart', I downright hated any display of affection. I had never had a school daughter so I started to wonder what school mothers did.
I did the best I could. She was an independent girl so it wasn't much. I washed for her whenever water was scarce, I ironed for her, supplied her with water and that was pretty much it. I never felt like I was close to her or I had done enough for her. I wasn't the kind of person who got close to others in very short periods.
The school year came to an end and send forth parties were being organised. We all dressed up to the nines, you would think we were going to a red carpet event. In a way, that was our red carpet event. We all had survived six years of suffering, punishments, water scarcity, lack of provisions and money, flogging, scrubbing smelly floors and toilets, the man the man (a male intruder who entered the female dormitory at night), boyfriends or lack of, and more. We had our laughs and cries and we damn well deserved an ovation. After the music and dance presentations, then came the mocking time, when the junior students would imitate the outgoing students in a funny way. I felt apprehensive, I wasn't sure Ethelle knew me so well that she would do any mocking but she surprised me.
She brought out a bed to the middle of the dormitory, held a novel, and did my walking step. Everyone burst out laughing. My walking step was unique in those days. (unique may mean good or bad to others, I dunno).
Then she called out her name "Ethelle" in a perfect imitation of my voice. I never thought she knew me that well. It was the perfect gift. I cried though I hid it, and hugged her. She was my little angel.

The Wedding Guest

The wedding was in full swing when I arrived. The DJ was pounding the speakers into pulp, not letting anyone think, much less speak. The couple were dancing on the floor, crowd of well wishers dancing along with them while others sprayed money in the air.
I quickly spotted an empty seat in the middle of the reception hall and grabbed it. There were three empty seats with bags placed atop. I knew the owners had gone to get busy on the dance floor. An elderly woman with a gele that reached the highest heavens occupied the fifth seat while a middle aged man was in the seat across mine.
The ushers were distributing trays of garri, pounded yam, egusi and vegetable soup. Most of the ladies were eating coconut rice with their dainty and well polished hands. I couldn't eat. I had no apetite. my eyes were scanning the crowd, searching. I had a mission.

It took me ten minutes to locate him. He was on the dance floor, dancing his heart away. I eagerly craned my neck to look at his partner. She was a tall light skinned girl. Her red gown was striking, her red lips were pouting and inviting, the six inch heels strapped to her legs were like an elevator. She was hauntingly beautiful. My heart sank. Even her dance was beautiful. I deflated right there on my seat.

The middle aged Yoruba man tried to make conversation with me. I smiled apologetically and kept mute. He frowned and went back to his smart phone which he was obviously having trouble using. Smiling, I wondered why he had bought a phone he could not use.
The music came to an end. I watched as he lovingly held 'her' hands and they started coming towards my table. Too late I realised they were headed to my table. I couldn't turn coward and run so I raised my head and sat straight. He stood still as he saw me in his table. He frowned. I could see him grinding his teeth in anger. I smiled brightly, the anger burning through me. My only humiliation was that I was alone. Oh I wished I had brought Stanley. That would have shown him. He sat in the seat next to mine and his shoulder brushed me as he sat. My body immediately tingled. Damn it. He was still so cute. And I still loved him. How could he do this to me? I put on a brave face and willed the tears to go back down. No way would I cry in front of him.
He turned to me slightly. "What are you doing here?"
I smiled. "Why are you asking me that? Sandra was my friend too."
He looked around the table like he was searching for someone. "Where's Stanley, your boyfriend?"

I knew he wanted to gloat. I didn't answer him. If only I loved Stanley instead of this oaf here. I wouldn't be having this much problem. I just had to love the one who didn't love me as much, the one who in just two weeks, already had someone new. I had spent the last two weeks crying my eyes out and he obviously had been frolicking with this...this....
I couldn't call her names. She was just too beautiful. All my old fears bounced back. Kehinde was very handsome. I had always been insecure every time a prettier girl came around him. And they always came. In droves. Always. It didn't end.

He started tapping his hands on his trousers. His fingers were slim and long, and oh so beautiful. I remembered how he used to brush my cheek with those same fingers, when we would laugh all day long. But now those fingers were dead to me. They had touched someone else.

He turned to her and they began a quiet conversation. It didn't matter how I strained my neck. I couldn't hear them. I wanted to look busy so I brought out my phone and started clicking away. A picture of the two of us was still my wallpaper. I stared at it, the tears came back up, wetting my eyes. I didn't care anymore. He had to give me an explanation. I sent him a short text. He frowned as he read it and looked at me sideways. Then he nodded slightly. I stood up and walked outside. He waited ten minutes then followed. I could see the female eyes following him. I wished they would all go blind.

I stood by the wall. He stood next to me. Very close. My heart started beating rapidly again. I had to calm down and ask the question that had been troubling me.

"Why did you break up with me?" my voice was breaking but I didn't care anymore. I allowed the tears to fall.

He frowned as he saw them. His hands reached out and wiped them away tenderly. I looked up. He was standing so close, I could see he was upset about something.
"Please tell me what happened. Why did you send me that text?" I asked again.

He took a deep breath and removed his hands from my face before he answered. "You allowed him to sleep in your room. That idiot spent one night with you didn't he?" he was angry now, looking at me as he expected an answer.

"Who? What are you talking about? Nobody spent any night in my room." I replied. He looked away. I held his arms. "Please tell me. What are you talking about? Did somebody tell you someone spent a night in my room?". I was anxious now.

He removed my hands. "Don't act like you don't know. I saw you MYSELF" he shouted that last part.
Eyes turned towards us. I waited a while before I continued.

"When?"
"Saturday morning." he ground out impatiently. "See Cynthia, there's nothing you can say to me now. I know everything. I always complained about how Stanley was always around you. You said it was nothing. Am out."

He went back inside the hall. I was thinking, trying to remember exactly what happened last Saturday morning. Then it came like a flash. I quickly ran inside and sat down. I was smiling now that I understood the misunderstanding. He frowned at my smile and shifted closer to his partner. I sent him another text. Stanley, my neighbour who had previously asked me out, had come to collect his textbook I had borrowed that early morning, wearing only his boxers. Kehinde had seen him as he had been leaving and had assumed the worst. I didn't wait for him to finish reading the text. I held his left hand, interlacing my fingers with his. I just wanted to touch him.

He looked at our fingers, then at me. "I'm sorry" he whispered in my ears. More tears rose to my eyes. "I'm sorry too." I whispered back.

We stayed like that, looking at each other. Somebody cleared their throat to get our attention. It was the girl he had been dancing with. She was smiling. I was confused. Then he leaned in and whispered again, "She's my cousin."
I smiled and put my head on his shoulders.