•Bashir

Just like my father, I would become a fugitive if I murdered Jameel.

But he's not giving me any choice. He kidnapped the woman whom I had deceived myself to believe was just a friend but deep down my chest was brewing spells love couldn't contain.

I believed she was a friend. I believe she was a sister. I believed she was the messiah that would bring me out of my pretentious, unfortunate life.

Of all the women I've met she's the first to figure out my motives and call me out for it. She knew I was only after her name and wealth and after that we became friends but my friendship was begging in the shadows to be granted a flash of green light to extend a flag of my hearts nation to her.

She even exposed her true intentions of being with me for the flash and that only made me want her even without the riches. She understood me even if all we wanted in this life was to live our lives to the fullest even if we had to step on a few people to get there. What was wrong with that?

A ruthless businessman for a jaunty woman of class. We could've been the perfect bunch if she didn't get kidnapped by Jameel; someone I considered a brother even if I couldn't fully trust him yet.

*Ring *Ring

The alarm I set on my phone caused an eruption on the drawers beside my bed. The bed side table shook and my head hurt from the sound being too loud for me to bear.

I hissed and got up angrily, grabbed a towel that hung from an open drawer and dashed into the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and stripped to take a bath.

While in the shower I remembered what went down between me and Inteesar. Shame and the cold of the shower hit my back and I instantly regret everything I said.

I would blame it on the Colorado a friend offered me yesterday. He came to visit and found me in a bad mood right after Jameel called me to join Inteesar to the hospital.

If I was being honest I had no intention of following her but I said yes to please Jameel and it seems she hadn't told him I could possibly be the father because he was still being as nice as ever and recently, a bit shady with his actions.

Yesterday was exhilarating. Two drags and I was on the floor of my room. He gave me five sticks and half way through the third stick Inteesar called and I mistakenly answered but couldn't let her know what I was doing so I lied.

Night fell and I made things worse by calling her. As if I cared. As if this child was really mine. As if I would marry her if this baby was our child.

Nonetheless I had to get on with my shower and clean up my room and remember to never accept anything Naseer offered me to help me get over stress.

I came out in time and rid the floor of my clothes, the empty cigarette pack it came in and   food wrappers I had no idea how they got there layed.

Jameel called while I was in the shower and sent a message right after to which I hissed and threw the phone on the bed, continued vacuuming till the floor was spotless.

Breakfast has never been a meal I considered important since from childhood. I'd missed it almost a thousand times because I wasn't privileged to eat a full plate with shredded potatoes, sauce or ketchup by the break of dawn or before going to school.

At this point I feel it should be removed from the meal roster. Oh well, that's not my business since I didn't need it. Those who needed it could have it.

I ignored the rumbling of my belly and snatched the keys from the bed and my phone and headed down the stairs.

Outside, I met the driver washing the car so I chose to take an Uber instead of waiting. This meeting was crucial.

The Uber arrived in less than five minutes and my journey started. A noise came from the engine and the driver rushes out to check it as he pleads with me to understand why he's stopping the car.

The usual breeze that came from my invincible friends arrival had me feeling a type of chill down to my bones and my hand shot for the car handle that wouldn't budge.

I yelled loudly to the hearing of the driver who was nodding his head in tune to the music from his earpiece to come and help me. It became pointless  when I realized he couldn't hear me.

He remained outside, poking at the holes within and beside the engine while I remained, scared and my wailing inaudible to the driver.

I sneezed and shut my eyes with the muttering of an Alhamdulillah. She appeared sitting beside me in the back seat and my breathing seized out of fear.

"Calm down. I'm not here to hurt you."

Finally I'd calmed down, still wary of her intentions of showing herself to me again. If not for fear I'd have been mesmerized by her beauty but I knew she wasn't normal.

"Listen to me Bashir." Her lashes fluttered and she sighed, dropping her hands on her laps, "I just couldn't help myself to protect you."

"What d-d-d-do y-y-ou mean?" I shivered in my Kaftan despite the heat that was suffocating and my head dripped sweat as if I was just stepping out of the shower.

"My name is Mariam. I am someone who has known you since you were a child."

"How?!" I interrupted, suddenly confident since I'd started getting calm.

She smiled, "I was with your mother. I had met her when I was still a child too. I don't know if you can remember but I was a girl that used to come and play with you and your cousins. It was only for a month but for those weeks, we would play all throughout the afternoon then join you during Magribh to go to the mosque.

I was always with Humaira, Hindatu and my older sister, Neema. We told you then, that we lived in the next village but came for a wedding at our uncles house. I even gave you a ring before 'leaving' the village with my sister."

I sat there utterly confused and at a loss for words because, indeed, she was telling the truth and if I was remembering clearly, she, Humaira, Miriam and I were thirteen while Bala and Neema were sixteen. When the time came for us to leave we didn't though?"

"I remember those exact moments but where did you go if you didn't leave?"

Her face scrunched up for a few seconds before she smiled again, "I was inside your mother with my sister. We would occasionally speak to her but she would refuse and ignore us in a way of telling herself she wasn't crazy.

Eventually she found a man who would be able to take us out but we were too strong. She tried several people until she gave up and died with us inside her. After her death, we decided to lurk around you to protect you because you were kind to your mother and was someone I fell in love with.

I will confess now that I am one of the biggest reasons you can't keep a woman but for now I won't go too deep into it. I'll leave you be since you're on your way to meet Rayyan. Just be careful, he is going to be surrounded with heavily armed men in plain clothes. I just came to warn you. Goodbye—also I was the one who gave him your number if you're wondering. When you're back we'll finish off this conversation." She wrote something down on a paper and asked me recite it and she would appear in my room.

I thanked her and got out of the car for some fresh air. The driver moved to approach the car at the same time.

"Sir I'm sorry o. I was calling the mechanic. Abi you'll cancel the ride and take a cab or something?"

I nodded and walked away from the car, slowly trekking to the gate of my house where I met an open gate and a clean car.

Whispering could be heard from a man and woman coming from the security guards room.

"I just want to see small."

I ran in to see  Jacob sitting shirtless on his mattress, his back against the wall and his legs outstretched as a young lady beside him sat rubbing his wobbly stomach.

His hands lay a few inches above her cleavage and he tried to pull her shirt forward, trying to peep inside.

"You want to see what Jacob?" I looked at her, "And you, who are you?"

She knelt down crying, "I am sorry sir. I am Madam Julie's house girl, your neighbor."

"Just go." I pointed at her. She, grateful, nodded and ran out quickly, "And as for you, this is what you do when I go out right? You bring random women to the house and commit all sorts of atrocities."

"No sir, today was my first time."

"Lies!" I held my hands in the air to stop him from speaking more, "I'm going out now. Just lock the gate. We'll sort this out when I get back."

It wasn't that I didn't want to punish him. He has been with me for almost four year and has never annoyed me so I just pardoned him for his good conduct in his work affairs.

I rushed to the car and zoomed away to meet Rayyan who I'm sure is already tired of waiting.

****

I cleared my voice with my hands outstretched for a handshake, "Salamu Alaykum, you must be Rayyan."

"Yes I am, Bashir?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for making you wait this long. I was held back at home because of some issues."

"It's nothing. Let's just now figure out why we're both here."

"Wait a second, we've met before!"

If I remember clearly, he's the same guy Inteesar was supposed to be betrothed to. I wish he was interested in getting married so that his parents can pressure Inteesars'.

"At Jameel's house right?" He laughed cheerfully.

"Yes, that's right. It's been a long time since then."

"Such a small world, fate has brought us here today."

"True. So, firstly I found your number on my hospital bed and assumed someone brought it to me while I was asleep but no one spoke about it so I was confused. I still called just in case it was important."

"Ok, that was... how do I say this? Crazy to an extent. What if I was a cultist?"

So Mariam gave him my number? How do I put it to him that my poltergeist friend was the one who gave him? I would sound insane. Not to mention how creepy that would make him feel.

He shrugged, "I fear no one but Allah."

"Great. Now..."

A group of men surrounded us with guns and began yelling. All their voices bundled up into one, confusing both me and Rayyan. I stared at him angrily, expecting some burst of laughter or mock but instead he stood there dumbfounded as he called out his own men.

It seemed the police were the ones here. His men pulled out their guns immediately as well but were forced to drop it on the floor. All of us were arrested and taken to the police station behind a truck that smelt of urine and musty, old food. Especially rice that had stayed overnight. The stench would force your insides to purge whatever your meal at that moment was.

The ride was long and unbearable. The men slapped some of his men. They seemed to only respect I and Rayyan. Squished and in handcuffs we rode silently with our hearts unstable in our chests.

The time would soon come for us to leave the trucks and we were pushed into a cell with about fifteen other men who all but grumbled and welcomed us with frowns.

Their leader was the only on a bed while the rest either leaned on the wall or on the dirty slab of concrete that made their floor.

The leader beckoned me and Rayyan to come but we looked away pretending he wasn't speaking to us.

"Aboki listen na. I Dey speak to una." He combed his unkempt beard with a small comb as he growled in anger to our defiance.

I hated when people said aboki just because you were a hausa man; the worst was when they used it to refer to a man selling tea and noodles on the street. What was that supposed to mean? I feel it's derogatory even if the feelings weren't there.

The man was about to raise his voice when a policeman came and called on just me and Rayyan to their heads office.

Our handcuffs were taken off, freeing our tired hands from its shackles before we were ushered to a small office with posters of deceased Nigerian leaders, a Nollywood actress by the name Sola Sobowale and an old calendar  I am on the opinion shouldn't be there for it was three years older than I was. '98 kids are not kids now so you can imagine.

A heavy odor of garlic enclaves the room especially from the inspectors mouth and tears begin to fill my eyes to a point of expelling themselves.

Rayyan remained silent and started at the man intently, waiting for him to explain why he brought us here and detained us.

"Young man," He said to Rayyan, "I believe we had this discussion in the hospital. We agreed if we find anything we'd call each other. Now you're with dining the man who put you in a hospital weeks ago!"

"Don't shout at me or anyone for that matter." He replied, not too loud but stern enough to get his message across, "Now you will tell me why you kept sent you have kept us here before I give you my reason for doing what I did."

The man's face remained stoic but he knew his place. I wondered what power Rayyan had that was enough to scare him.

"You know very well we were carrying out an investigation on your case and this very man is the perpetrator."

I took a deep breath and said a short dua in my mind for Allah to save me for I knew nothing of what they were talking about.

I cleared my throat, "If I may ask sir, what are you talking about?"

"Shut up your dirty mouth! You know fully well what you did." He hissed and ordered his men to come and deal with me, "Friday, Balogun he's all yours."

A punch.

One hit.

Two hits.

A leg.

Two elbows and a blow to my nose.

My breathing had drastically changed and I was severely wounded, my face decorates with blows from corrupt officers who knew nothing about me.

"Stop this at once!" Rayyan jeered, moving from his seat to stop their hands from dealing more damage to my body.

He turned to the inspector, "Tell them to stop immediately or you will be at fault for what happens to you sir. He has something to say, let's hear it."

"But he's a criminal."

That word alone led to me stop fighting the hands. I gave up and lates there on the floor as their hands continued to pummel me.

So, today, as I was, had become a criminal in the eyes of people. Degenerate of a society, son of Jalal Hussein was now a criminal like his father.

Rayyan slammed the table and demanded they release me before the inspector heeded his warnings.

"Now let's all take a sit." He added collectedly and ordered one of them to bring me a bottle of water and a towel to clean off the blood.

The inspector eyed me with a sinister look in his eyes and restrained anger. I remained silent and waited till I was spoken to before I would speak.

Rayyan started with how a trailer had jammed his car and sent him to the hospital and that they all believed I was the powerhouse of this plan that led to his accident.

Now I realized my mistake and began to explain what had led to this happening including the people involved without withholding the name of the master planner.

"Jameel Rufai?" Rayyan questioned, angry but not surprised.

"Jameel Rufai?" The inspector echoed, "Its a lie, boys take him to the cell!"

They dragged me and I fought to remain on my chair, "I have proof." I sucked in air, "I have proof."

If he could betray me, why shouldn't I? He lost the badge of our friendship the day I found out he had Basma all this while.

"Where is it?!" He shouted, "Show us before I change my mind."

"Be patient sir." Rayyan believed in me. I was almost brought to tears here.

Don't blame a man when he's scared to the bones especially one who doesn't want to end up in prison. Once again, like his father.

I asked for my phone that was still at the front desk and one of the errand boys brought it. I showed them my texts with Jameel and tried to call the drivers number.

The driver wasn't even a driver to begin with. He was a tout that I came to know as a hit man Jameel trusted for his biggest plans. I was only instructed to give him an envelope—not that I knew what was to be done with the money or it's other content.

"Do you have more proof?" Rayyan asked. Really, I was taken aback. I thought he believed me. He then added, "That can't be the only thing right? Call the driver and put it on speaker."

I did as I was told and the driver didn't answer. The whole room was silent and their eyes stayed glued me, judging, as if I was truly a criminal as they believed me to be.

I called thrice and he didn't pick up his phone instead he sent a text saying he was on out to go for an important mission and would call me back later. As if that wasn't enough, I almost got another beating until, in my moment of desperation I called Jameel.

He answered after a second try. That was when my hearts pace resumed normally.

"Soldierboy how far?"

Chews, sips and a short laugh. Is he with her?

"Bashir I Dey o. I'm just tired. How's Abuja?"

"Abuja is fine. I just wanted to ask you about the package that was brought to me a while back."

"Yes, what's wrong? Did he mess up?"

"No. I just didn't understand what he was assigned to do. His explanations were confusing."

"I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd talk me out of it but since it has happened I'll tell you. It was Rayyan I wanted to kill." He chews again, "You know him right? He came to my parents house with his father for lunch."

"Why?"

"Are you alone?" He huffed, "I don't want you spilling my business in a crowd."

"I'm alone." I added, "At home."

"Ok. I just don't want him to marry Inteesar."

"Is that all?"

What kind of mad man was this? You build your intent based on your refusal for him to marry your sister? I'm not stupid, there has to be something else.

"The second reason is something... something that is buried deep within my heart." He paused, "I don't want you to judge me about. Let's talk about this later tonight."

"No problem."

I hang up quickly and stay quiet, waiting for their reactions.

"Ok, now you'll do something for us young man."

This oaf was now ready to speak to me in a civilized manner since I had proven myself. Rayyan didn't speak but I could tell he was still wondering why his childhood friend would try to kill him.

"What is that sir?"

"You'll call him later as planned and we'll monitor your calls so we'll know what his second reason was and where he is."

I tried to remember where he mentioned he was in our past conversations but my brain was scrambled with so many thoughts and the desperation to leave the place entirely.

"Ok sir."

Rayyan and I thank him and they shake hands before we leave his office. He escorts us outside and bids us goodbye. Outside a man rushes past us and stops behind us where we hear him mention Basma to the inspector and both I and Rayyan halt in our steps, eavesdropping on a conversation we all presumed was for our ears.

"Inspector, how are you?"

"Doing fine, as you can see." He smiles.

"You said you wanted to see me again."

"Yes it's about Basma."

"Have you found anything?"

"Not something concrete. But I'd like us to investigate on a person more, to see if it'll lead somewhere."

"Let's go to my office then."

They shuffle quietly to his office and we follow the two ignorant men back into the dreadful building to dig into the matter as it involves me and surprisingly, Rayyan.
_________________________

~Aisha SafiyanuXO💚