The irony of looking for something and finding something else is uncanny. Who said a bond can't be formed during battle? Who said rivalry can't birth friendship? Who said you can't find love in hate?

What do find when you come looking for revenge, though?

We only refuse to see things clearly when our eyes are clouded by emotions; vengeful vendettas, destructive agendas.

◈ ━━━━━━━ ⸙ - ⸙ ━━━━━━━ ◈

After drying off her body with her big, pink towel, she wrapped it around her body and made her way out of the bathroom.

Tamara's room was at the far end of the hallway, opposite the bathroom. Next to hers was Timi's room and Tari's room was the first one and opposite their parents' room. Tamara liked it that way because it meant that she wouldn't have to walk any distance in just a towel before she got to her room.

Something about letting people see her body was just...uncomfortable. She preferred being fully clothed and not showing more skin than necessary.

She got into her room and locked the door. She was now free to discard her towel while she got dressed.

She had put on her undies before standing in front of the large wall mirror to assess her nudity for the first time in a very long time. What was she doing? She had no answer to that question. In fact, for some seconds, she wasn't thinking of anything as she stared at herself in the mirror. Until the voice in head came.

'Fatty. You eat everything you lay your hands on.'

'Look how big you are.'

'Buffalo!'

'Ew! Are those stretch marks?'

Tamara felt like shattering the mirror but that wouldn't change the reflection of herself.

Before the voices in her head could continue, she hurriedly put on her clothes and refused to go near the mirror on the wall. But even as her did that, she couldn't help but ponder on the things those voices said.

Because those voices...they belonged to actual people. And what they said, they were things she'd heard all her life.

Even as Tamara made her way out of her bedroom, she didn't turn to look at the mirror next to her wardrobe. She didn't need to be reminded of how she looked.

What she didn't understand was why her body and what people said about it was starting to become such a big deal all of a sudden. She had gone all her life ignoring nasty comments people like her sister and classmates made about her body but all of a sudden, those comments and mockery were starting to hit harder.

• • •

It was always a full house on Saturday mornings. Tamara watched as everyone moved around, making constant trips in and out of the kitchen as they got ready to eat.

Mr. Disemi had one hand on his waist and the other one holding on to the remote as he stood in front of the flat screen TV, surfing the channels. He was putting on navy blue silk pajamas and that meant that those were one of the days he would have breakfast before taking a bath.

Tari tailed her mother in and out of the kitchen where they produced plates upon plates of pancake and a huge glass jug filled with orange juice. Tari was putting on a black, sleeveless top and oversized grey boxers she had stolen from Timi. Mrs. Disemi was in her plain, red black gown she always wore while doing house chores.

Timi seemed to be replacing the bulbs in the dinning area. He was clad in a white vest and equally white shorts as he used the side stool from the parlor to increase his height.

"Oya oh! The food will get cold, come and eat." Mrs. Disemi announced to everyone but no one in particular. Tari was the first to take a seat after dropping the second jug of freshly squeezed orange juice in the middle of the table. Saturday breakfasts were always so extravagant for some reason but no one complained.

Everyone took their usual seats at the oval shaped dinning table. It was always the same as usual; Mr. Disemi at the head of the table, his wife on his right, Timi on the other end opposite his father, Tamara on Timi's left and next to their mother, Tari on his right and a little farther from their father's left side.

"Victory, pray." That was the only thing their father said and Tamara watched as Tari rolled her eyes. Her parents had already bowed their heads and closed their eyes so they couldn't have seen her eye roll.

"In Jesus name," Tari mumbled, her eyes wide open.

"Amen," everyone chorused.

"Father Lord bless this food, through Christ our Lord. Satan go away, Jesus come and eat."

The table remained silent for three good seconds. Everyone had been waiting for Tari to continue her prayer or at least conclude her very short prayer but by the time they had eventually opened their eyes to know what was up, a whole pancake was already in the girl's mouth.

"Victory!" Mr. Disemi thundered and Tari nearly choked on her meal.

"Tari, so that is how to pray, abi?" Mrs. Disemi enquired, glaring at her daughter.

"But mummy— " she whined.

"But mummy, what?" her mother's eyes went wide. "If that was how Jesus prayed in the Bible then I don't think we would be here today."

"There's something wrong with you, I can see that." Mr. Disemi scolded but didn't glare too much at Tari before he turned to Tamara and asked her to pray.

Tamara obeyed immediately and said her usual prayer which lasted for about three minutes.

"...in Jesus we've prayed,"

"Amen!" her parents shouted before opening their eyes with a look of satisfaction on their faces.

"Did you hear that? That's how to pray," Mr. Disemi said to Tari who was probably wondering why such unnecessarily long prayer was needed after the nearly two hours of morning devotion they had.

Everybody began eating their meal except Tamara who was only sipping the orange juice. Her mother had noticed her doing this for more than ten minutes and the woman just had to ask, "Tamara, aren't you going to eat?"

Tamara shook her head. "No. I'm not feeling hungry," she lied.

"Ah ahn," her mother looked confused. "But you don't miss Saturday breakfast. This is your favorite."

"I'm just not hungry today," Tamara said. She could feel her siblings looking at her.

"At least eat one pancake," Mrs. Disemi urged. Tamara shook her head again.

"Mummy, she's watching her weight, let her be," Tari pitched in and her mother turned to look at her.

"Watching with weight?" she turned back to Tamara, "abeg, eat! You want to be like lekpa, abi?"

Tamara reluctantly grabbed her fork as she started eating slowly. Pancakes were her favourite but she was willing to avoid them for awhile. She needed to know what she was doing wrong and why she was so big.

Maybe too much of pancakes caused it? No, it couldn't be just pancakes, right?

• • •

Before noon, Tamara's parents had left for a program they had been invited to in another church.

Tamara, Tari and Timi had all been at home when they heard loud knocking at the gate not more than twenty minutes after their parents had left.

Tari groaned loudly, throwing her head back. That was enough to tell her siblings that she wasn't getting up from the sofa where she sat, watching a soap opera.

"Maybe mummy forgot something," Tamara suggested from the dinning where she sat. She looked pleadingly at her brother who sat opposite her. They had been doing homework with both their books scattered on the table. Tamara too was just feeling too lazy to get up and walk all the way to the gate.

Timi rolled his eyes slightly before sighing and getting up.

The knocking continued, louder.

"I just don't know why we don't have a gateman," Tari mumbled as Timi walked past her and headed out the door.

"I'm coming!" Timi was forced to yell when he got outside and whoever it is wouldn't stop knocking like they owned the place. "Who's that?" he asked as he unbolted the gate, and before he could get a response, he swung it open to see the most unexpected person ever.

"Head Boy, dude!" Enock yelled, grinning like he'd picked up a penny on his way. "Nice seeing you here!" And he was shaking Timi's hands vigorously before the Head Boy could even process what was happening.

"This is...my house," Timi stuttered, still giving Enock a suspicious look.

Enock thought maybe Timi was still holding what had happened in the storeroom against him but he wasn't going to bring it up.  "So, where's your sister?"

"Which of my sisters?"

"Tamara,"

"Why are you looking for... Wait are you— "

"Yes, I'm her partner for the debate." And just like that, Enock was already inside the compound as he stared at the beautiful exterior of the house.

Timi adjusted his glasses. "Does she know you're coming?"

"Yup," Enock replied, bouncing on his heels and popping the 'p'. 

Timi sighed. "Okay." And they both made their way towards the house and into the sitting room. "Tamara, you have a guest," Timi announced as soon as they were in the sitting room where Enock could immediately recognize the sound of the Indian soap operas Aunt Clara would sit through hours of.

"Who?" Tamara called from the dinning.

Tari, who had been sitting in front of the TV, turned at the sound of Timi's voice. For a second, she looked surprised and confused as to what Enock Sakala was doing in their home. Enock threw her a smile but she turned back to her TV as though she hadn't seen anything unusual.

Enock followed Timi as they approached the dinning area. That was when they came into Tamara's view. Her eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets as if she had seen a ghost.

"What is he doing here?" she asked Timi and when he shrugged, she turned to the smiling clown, "what are you doing here?"

"But he said you were expecting him..." Timi trailed.

"Yes," "No!" Enock and Tamara said in unison. Timi gave up and went back to his homework.

"We're done preparing for the debate!" Tamara exclaimed.

Tari groaned again from the sofa. "Tamara, stop shouting!"

"But we agreed we would practice yesterday and today. And when you asked how we would meet today, I told you I'd come to your house." Enock shrugged with his hands casually in his pockets.

"I never agreed to that," Tamara said firmly. "And I remember telling you that yesterday would be enough, and it was. And besides, how did you even know where I live?"

Enock chuckled. "Everyone knows where everyone lives."

Tamara and Timi looked up at Enock like what he'd said wasn't making sense. But in a way, what he said should've been accurate since they all lived in the same estate. But Newland was huge, there was no way.

Tamara was tempted to ask him if he actually knew where everyone lived but she said instead, "Well, you can go home, we have nothing more to discuss. Sorry you came for nothing."

"Okay, but if I mess up on Monday, it's your fault." And with that, Enock actually turned around to leave but then Tamara began getting that feeling you get when something bad is bound to happen if you don't do something to prevent it at that moment.

Long story short, that was how they found themselves in Tamara's room—against her better judgement, of course. There was no way they could stay in the sitting room since Tari would murder her for 'making noise' and they couldn't disturb Timi who was doing homework in the dinning area either. Tamara had suggested the balcony but the sun was scorching hot and they wouldn't be able to get anything done in such condition.

Enock watched in amusement as Tamara left the door ajar for reasons best known to her. Tamara on the other hand wouldn't want her siblings getting the wrong idea about what she was doing in her room alone with a boy. It didn't even feel right to her because not only was he invading her private space, but he was a boy. And asides her brother, no other boy has or was supposed to step foot inside her room.

The sooner they got things done, the better, Tamara thought.

"Okay, we need to perfect our speech—that's the only thing we haven't rehearsed. You need to learn to speak with confidence and audibility." Tamara went over to sit at the edge of her bed, getting to business immediately.

Enock sat on the only wooden chair in the room next to the girl's small desk housing all kinds of books. He had been admiring the sea green colour used in painting the four walls of the room before Tamara had spoken up. There was nothing much about her room, nothing out of place and nothing spectacular either. Well, except that massive, soft-looking bed he wasn't allowed to sit on.

"The way you said 'you' as if I'm the only one who needs to learn to speak with confidence and audibility." Enock smirked as he watched Tamara sigh.

"I speak just fine. You're the one who needs to work on yourself."

"Wow, proud much?"

"I'm just stating facts," she shrugged. "So, let's here you. Did you come with your points?"

Enock pulled out a rumpled piece of paper which he had folded into his back pocket.

"You'll need to stand up. Demonstrate, make hand gestures. Don't just sit there," said Tamara just when he was about to begin reading out what he had written down.

"You've got to be kidding me," Enock mumbled as he stood to his feet reluctantly.

Eventually, he had done as he was instructed and when he finished, Tamara wasn't as disappointed as he thought she'd be.

"That wasn't so bad," she admitted. Strangely, she didn't find Enock sitting next to her at the edge of her bed nearly as weird and uncomfortable as she'd thought. He'd taken that position right after he was done reading out his argument.

It was time to make his move, Enock thought. But the door was wide open. Anyone could walk in.

Hell, the door wasn't even the problem, it was that tiny gentle voice in his skull telling him that Tamara was a good person and that maybe she didn't deserve what he wanted to do to her.

Secondly, he had to admit that he didn't want to do it. It was time he told himself the truth, Sola was the one putting him up for this.

"You don't know how to spell your name?" Tamara asked, dragging Enock out of his thoughts as he realized that he'd been staring at her and she was now holding his rumpled piece of paper.

"What?" Enock was confused.

Tamara held up the paper, pointing to the part where he had written his name. Enock Sakala.

"What are you talking about?" Enock was still confused.

"That's not how to spell 'Enock'. It's E-N-O-C-H not K," Tamara corrected.

"And who told you that?"

"The bible," she replied. "That's how it's spelled in the Bible."

Enock snatched the paper from her hand and smiled warmly. "Well, mine is a different Enock."

"And why should it be different? Don't you know Enoch in the bible is one of the two people who went straight to heaven without dying?" Tamara raised her thin eyebrows. Enock only looked amused. "Hebrews 11:5— "

"By faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death; and was not found, because God had translated him: for before his translation he had this testimony, that he pleased God..."

Tamara's mouth remained open even after Enock had just recited the bible verse perfectly like it was a daily mantra for him. "So you know...the bible?"

Enock chuckled at the girl's bewildered expression. "My mother was a Sunday school teacher. And she taught me all the bible passages that talked about Enock."

"Seriously?" Tamara's eyes grew wide. Enock didn't think it was a big deal but then, he could understand why she would be surprised. "What church does she attend?"

Enock's wary smile faded away slowly before he looked down at the bed for a moment. "Uh...she's late. My parents died a long time ago."

"Oh..." Tamara blurted out, not knowing what else to say as she regretted bringing it up in the first place. This was awkward.

"I'm actually that changed the C-H to K," he chuckled awkwardly. "I was trying to prove a stupid point..." Enock stared at nothing in particular as the memories came flooding in  and his eyes sparkled. "I remember back then, I thought the person who had written was probably stupid because he didn't spell the name correctly. I mean, it looked more proper with a K; that was the sound."

Tamara didn't know when she had chuckled as well. She could only imagine little Enock going against everyone and putting the CH at the end of his name with a K.

"My teachers complained and my mom tried to persuade me but I was adamant. Later on they just let me be, and even after I'd grown to know the right thing, I was already used to the K."

Enock sighed, still looking unblinkingly at nothing in particular.

"Enoch is actually one of my favorite people in Bible." Tamara didn't know why she needed to say that but she knew she wanted to say something at that moment.

Enock turned to her, tilting his head to the side with a quizzical look. "I'm very sure everyone in the bible is your favorite."

"That's not true," said Tamara. "I'm not a big fan of Sarah, Abraham's wife."

"Why?"

"I don't think she loved Abraham. She didn't  love him the way a wife loved a husband." Tamara shrugged, looking deep in thought.

The fact alone that they were analyzing the bible was amusing to Enock, not even to talk more of thinking of what he'd come there to do. The irony. "Why do you say so? You talk like there's something you know that other people who read the Bible don't know."

"Enock, she asked her husband to sleep with another woman," Tamara replied. "In her case it's even very bad because she asked the woman to sleep with her husband,"

"So? That doesn't — "

Tamara turned to face Enock properly and cut him off. "Listen to me," she started, "someone who loves you will never be comfortable or happy when you're sharing your bed with someone else. The fact that they would even ask you to do so should make you question your relationship with them. I mean, if they really loved you, no matter what, they would never want to sleeping with someone else."

Enock wasn't going to tell Tamara that he related to what she'd said. It even felt like she had been talking about him and Sola. He only froze in place, not knowing what to say or think.

How come he hadn't seen it this way before? His own girlfriend asking him to go and have sex with another girl...

It was all dawning on him then and it was a little overwhelming.

Tamara noticed Enock's sudden absentmindedness but didn't say anything about it.

Enock didn't want to question Sola's love for me but at that moment, he had no choice. Why would she refuse to have sex with him but easily ask him to do it with someone else? And why was he just seeing things clearly?

He needed to have a serious talk with his girlfriend.