In every story is should be clear who the heroes and villains are. Granted, everyone had their own perception of who a hero was and who a villain was. Some may argue that there were no such things as villains since every character acted with a motif.

No one was born bad. It was just circumstances making us do things and pursue things we were never meant to have.

This isn't exactly a story for the villains but you need to look closely at everyone and truly determine if they deserved to be called villains. Because at the end, tables might turn and villains became heroes and heroes became villains.

◈ ━━━━━━━ ⸙ - ⸙ ━━━━━━━ ◈

It was just the same as the other nights that week. She would jolt up from her bed in the middle of the night, breathing heavily, crying and drenched in her own sweat She tried to calm her nerves while hoping that she hadn't woken anyone up with the noise she was making.

She retrieved her phone from under her pillow and turned it on.

5:23 AM.

And thirty three missed calls from Charles Elias.

Tari got out of bed and left her room to go downstairs and get water. Her throat was dried up for some reason. She would start getting ready for church after that. Their parents always strict when it came to Sunday mornings. According to their mother, they had to set examples by being early. But then again, they owned the church so they had to be early anyway.

"Timi, midterm tests are over," Tari grumbled with irritation when she had entered the dinning area and found Timi with what looked like a Further Mathematics textbooks. In fact, Timi had covered the entire table with books.

Tari headed for the water dispenser while Timi adjusted his glasses. It was still very dark outside but the fluorescent lights in the house made that hard to tell.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'll stop studying," Tari heard her brother's voice behind her as she filled a plastic cup with water.

"That's what it means for me." Tari turned and took the seat next to Timi before putting away the books in front of her to make space where she dropped her cup of water.

"Why are you awake?" Timi asked her. It didn't look like he was going back to his books anymore.

"What sort of question is that? You know mummy always says we should wake up before 5:30 on Sundays." She shrugged and sipped her water.

"Yes, and it's the same mummy that barges into your room by 7 AM to wake you up every Sunday," Timi deadpanned.

"Well, today is different."

"It's not different," said Timi, "you had a nightmare again."

Tari didn't say anything, she simply stared at her cup of water. Timi didn't say anything either, he wanted her to say something, but he wasn't going to pressure her by staring at her. He looked down at the book in front of him.

"It's just stress and too much thinking." She turned to smile at her brother. "Once we vacate, I'll be fine. You know school is always hectic."

Timi smiled and shook his head out of amusement.

"What?" Tari asked.

"You're complaining about school being hectic?" he asked. "When was the last time you even opened a book?"

"Well...yesterday. On Friday...Thursday?" Tari tried to remember. "All I know is that I read something this week." She shrugged.

Timi chuckled and adjusted his glasses again. Tari didn't know how she felt about that habit of his. "Are you even ready for the debate? Because me and Amira will murder you guys."

"Yeah, whatever." Tari rolled her eyes before picking up her cup and finishing the water.

"I wanted to ask you something," Timi said and when Tari turned to him, he went ahead and asked, "what's going on with you and Ahmed?"

Tari managed to scoff even though she was very sure her heart had sunk into her stomach. "What do you mean? What should be going on between us? We're just project partners."

Even Tari knew for a fact that they were more than that. At that point, she had almost decided that Ahmed could pass as a friend.

"Just project partners?" Timi looked skeptical.

Tari chuckled. "What? We're not like you and Amira who have taken things to the next level."

"Next level? We're just...friends," Timi replied, looking away.

"Yeah, just friends for now until she starts coming to see you instead of me who's supposed to be her best friend." Tari raised her eyebrows.

"We're just friends...and study partners, that's all."

"But you like her."

"What?"

"Last I checked you had problem with your eyes and not your ears," Tari deadpanned.

"I like her as-"

"...as a friend, I know," Tari chorused. "Timi you know we came out from the same belly on the same day, right? And I came out before you and Tamara,"

Timi looked very confused as to the direction of the conversation but he replied, "yes..."

"So I know you more than anybody else and I'm not buying that 'I like her as a friend' bullshit," Tari went on, "you like her and she likes you too."

"She...does?"

"Duh, are you blind? I thought you had four eyes?"

Timi looked like he was deep in thought before Tamara came strolling into the dining area and headed for the dispenser by the corner just like Tari had done. Her nightgown looked bogus but it still clung to her body like a second skin.

Tari knew it was only a matter of time now before their parents came down as well.

As she watched Tamara gulp down a cup of water, something dawned on Tari. She whipped her head to turn to Timi who was still sitting next to her but this time, he was gathering his books.

"Is it because she's a muslim?" Tari whispered. The last thing she would want was for Tamara to get wind of what they were talking about.

"Huh?" The look of confusion and surprise flashed through Timi's eyes for awhile before he regained his composure. "What are you talking about? I don't see anything wrong with Muslims."

"I don't believe you."

Maybe the fact that their parents hated people of other religion and didn't bother hiding it had influenced Timi and made him oblivious to the fact that he could possibly have any kind of relationship with a Muslim. Mummy and Daddy would forbid it.

After the usual long morning devotion, everyone ran around getting ready for service.

Tari was running down the stairs wearing a white long-sleeved turtle neck and a black flay skirt with her heels in her hands when she heard Tamara whining.

"Mummy, I don't know what's doing this zip!" Tamara complained as Mrs. Disemi stood behind her, trying to do the zipper.

"Tamara stay one place lemme do this thing and get out of here," her mother grumbled.

The zipper wasn't stuck, it just wouldn't move up because the black dress was extremely tight on Tamara.

"How do you expect to do the zipper when you're already bigger than the dress?" said Tari as she sat on one of the couches to put on her shoes.

"Tari, better shut up. No one invited you!" Tamara spat as she and her mother still struggled with the zipper.

"When you were eating like a buffalo you didn't know," Tari said, "now you're as fat as a cow and all your dresses don't fit anymore."

"Mummy, abi you've seen Tari now? Let her leave me alone!"

"Tari, keep quiet!"

"Orobo, am I holding you?"

The three females were speaking at the same time. Tamara looked like she was about to start crying, Mrs. Disemi looked frustrated from trying to zip up the dress and also trying to get her daughters to shut up, Tari was adamant on pissing her sister off.

"Am I the one told you to be eating everything you see? Look how big you are!"

"Tari! Leave me alone! Mummy tell her to leave me alone!"

"Am I holding you? I can't even hold someone as fat as you."

"You're very stupid!"

"And you look like a cow!"

Mrs. Disemi lost it and she yelled, "Tari! If I-" but she didn't get to finish her sentence because she'd pulled out the zipper with force. Her eyes widened as she looked at the zipper in her hands. There was suddenly silence.

"What?" Tamara asked, oblivious to the fact that there was no hope anymore in zipping her dress. When she turned around and saw the broken zip in her mother's hands, Tari almost laughed at the look on her face.

Tamara snatched the zip from her mother and ran past Tari and up the stairs in tears. Mrs. Disemi heard Tamara's door slam shut loudly upstairs before she turned to face Tari.

"Is there something wrong with you?" she asked, standing in akimbo. "Why have you decided to be a devil to your sister? Why can't you love her the way siblings love each other?"

"Someone who loves somebody tells them the truth," Tari replied, "she eats too much and nobody says anything about it. She should do something about her weight before she becomes obese."

"Are you mad?" asked Mrs. Disemi, "is there something wrong with you? Am I the one you're talking back to?"

"No,"

"Tari, let this be first and last time you say things like that to your own sister," Mrs. Disemi was pointing now, "do you hear me?"

Tari wanted to roll her eyes. "Yes, ma."

Tari knew it wouldn't be the last time because Tamara's weight and the fact that she wasn't doing anything about it irritated Tari more than anything and she did not hide it at home. In school she just kept her distance and fought the urge to deny that Tamara was related to her.

• • •

"The world we live in today is polluted with atrocities. Today you have girls walking around naked all in the name of fashion. We now watch pornography and call them movies and music videos. Our youths now engage in modern gambling and call it bet. Money rituals are now known as yahoo plus and everyone is okay with it. No one is saying anything, instead we're making jokes about them like its supposed to be normal.

"It's only in this generation that killing children has become normal all in the name of abortion. Why is it that being a virgin is suddenly a crime in today's world? Why are we doing the devil's bidding and seeing it as normalcy?"

Tari wanted to plug in her headphones until the sermon was over but there was no way she could do that without someone noticing. Somehow, her father's voice had become more irritating especially on Sundays when he stood at that podium.

She turned to Timi who was sitting on her right to see if he was nearly as uncomfortable as she was but he was only nodding slowly to everything their dad was saying as if he couldn't agree more.

Tamara who was on her left would occasionally shout an annoying, "Hallelujah!" or "Amen!" or even worse, "That is true!" There was no surprise there.

Mrs. Dora Disemi clapped the loudest while her husband spoke and Tari just felt like she was suffocating.

It literally felt like anytime she walked into the familiar church, hands gripped her throat and she couldn't breathe properly until she was out of there. She hated Sundays and in as much as she wouldn't dare say it to anyone, she didn't understand God either. She just didn't know where she stood with Him. She wasn't even sure of who he was or His purpose.

If God truly loved her unconditionally then why were there so many rules and laws on who she was supposed to be and what she was supposed to do? It just didn't make sense. At a point in Tari's life, she'd started perceiving this God and His will as a do or die affair anytime she remembered she'd end up in hell if she didn't follow his commandments. It didn't feel right.

She had so many questions she wanted to ask but who would answer them without looking at her like she was crazy?

The truth was, no matter how many Sundays and every other day in the week Tari had spent in the House of God, she wasn't a big fan of His. She wasn't serving him and worshipping Him with her whole heart. Hell, she didn't even know what that felt like.

She always looked at her mother and Tamara like crazy people when they talked about serving God willingly. She didn't believe there was such a thing. She believed that they were just afraid of going to hell.

And if she ever decided to put all her energy and time into God's word, it would be for the same reason- avoiding eternal damnation in the pit of fire.

And forcing yourself to love and obey someone just because if you do otherwise, you'd end up being punished for eternity? There had to be foul play there somewhere.

So that's how every Sunday at church in Tari's life went by. It mostly consisted of her looking around during the sermon to hopefully find someone who was as uncomfortable with what the pastor was saying as she was. She usually found nobody.

But then on some Sundays, there were times she would meet Adam Somoye's eyes when she turned around and she could swear he'd rather be anywhere else. But then it was just a speculation since the boy clearly should be enjoying church like anyone in the choir did.

Tari didn't talk to anyone from school at church. She didn't know Adam well and even she did, she would still keep her distance just the same way she did with everyone that attended her father's church. In school, she was a social butterfly. In church, she was still a butterfly; a butterfly drenched in water that is.

So Tari usually found herself running out of the building after the grace had be said while her siblings stayed back to put up the Holy than thou pastor's children facade with anyone who bothered to meet them. Her mother would be with the other women in church, gossiping about God knows what and Pastor Thomas Disemi himself would be seeing anyone who cared to see him in his office.

It usually took and hour or so before they all came to the car.

That Sunday, while Tari waited for the others by the car alone, she decided that she couldn't keep living like this; always wondering and feeling bitter about the things that didn't make sense.

She wanted to do things that made her happy. And although, at that time in her life, she could only think of a few things that made her feel at peace, she decided to go with the first one that came to mind.

She retrieved her phone from the small bag she'd been carrying around and headed for her Whatsapp.

Ahmed
online

Hey, what's up?
12:57 PM

(typing...)

• • •

TARI
online

Hey, what's up?
12:57 PM

I dey.
Anytin 4 the boyz?
12:58 PM

"Oga, I'm talking to you and you're smiling at your phone!" Dele snapped his fingers in Ahmed's face as though he was trying desperately to get him out of a hypnosis.

Ahmed looked up, suddenly remembering that he was with someone or rather, some people. "Eh? Wetin you talk?"

"Dude," Enock cooed, forming that American accent that Ahmed found annoying, "we were talking 'bout Annika's birthday party."

"Birthday party..." Ahmed trailed, his phone vibrated in his hands meaning that Tari had replied, and to be honest, he was sure he couldn't focus on any other thing till he replied her message.

He was already typing again before he even realized what he was doing.

TARI
online

Remember we have
debate tomorrow?
12:58 PM

You and who?
Who be 'we'?
12:59 PM

(typing...)

"Ahmed!" Sola yelled his name before she made to snatch his phone from his hand but she wasn't fast enough and she'd already alerted him too.

"Dude, leave that babe you're chatting with for just a minute and let's talk!" Enock pitched in.

Ahmed caught his heart in his hands as he looked skeptically at Enock. How did he know he was chatting with a girl?

"I no even understand una," Ahmed started saying, "pesin we dey plan B-Day for, she tell you say she won celebrate am?"

Dele stared at Ahmed from where he sat on the round table at Ahmed's right.

Ahmed looked from Sola to Enock, waiting for an answer to his surprisingly not rhetorical question. He was avoiding Dele's eyes since he was still pissed and Dele was just starting to notice that.

"Look, it was my idea," Dele spoke nonetheless, "she's been having a hard time and I thought it would be a good idea to throw her a party. Just a small one. It's been awhile since she celebrated her birthday."

"And dude, it's been awhile we had a party!" Enock yelled, stretching the last syllable on the last word and getting the attention of some of the other people at the eatery. It was midday on a Sunday but the place was surprisingly packed.

"No dey call me dude, abeg." It wasn't the first time Ahmed was asking Enock not to call him that and they both knew it wouldn't be the last. Dele knew Ahmed was only trying his best not to talk to him directly. Hell, he wasn't even looking at him.

"Don't mind Ahmed, we're doing this with or without him," Sola said to Dele who was sitting opposite her.

TARI
last seen 1:02 PM

Can you meet me at
the park by 3?
12:59 PM

Abeg let's just plan on few
things to say. I don't want to
fail 🙏
1:01 PM

No p. I go show.
1:03 PM

Ahmed would've made Tari beg him more before he finally agreed, but then, she wasn't online anymore so that would be pointless. He knew he was going to be there even if she didn't beg him. He wasn't going for the project but something in him just wanted to be there with her.

By the time he'd decided to rejoin the conversation his friends were having, they were already talking about the perfect gift for Annika and the venue for the birthday party.

Ahmed found the whole thing ridiculous because to start with, Annika wasn't even a party person and all the talk about hosting the party at a club or hotel would give her the more reason not to show up for her own party.

At the end, it would simply be Bamidele Akindele throwing his father's money around for a girl that wasn't planning on reciprocating his feelings anytime soon.

It made Ahmed furious.

Dele had called the Sunday morning meeting at the eatery and Ahmed wondered why he had bothered coming if this was what Dele meant by discussing 'something important' when he'd messaged on WhatsApp. It wasn't like he wasn't enjoying the pizza and KFC that Dele was paying for but he wished his friend would wake up from this dream of Annika one day liking him as more than just a friend.

Annika was a confusingly confused person too so Ahmed had given up on reasoning her matter as he would say.

Besides, he wasn't sure he was boarding the Dele/Annika ship even if it began sailing. He just couldn't see Dele happy with any girl. But he wouldn't tell him that.

• • •

It was just like the day Ahmed had strolled into the park after he'd checked his sister's phone and had seen Tari's messages. She had been sitting at that bench, crying. Ahmed would agree that it hadn't been the best sight but he'd seen worse.

As soon as he'd seen Tari that day, he knew he would go to the ends of the earth to help her. And that's why he'd done, or was doing.

She sat at that same bench, waiting patiently for him. This time she didn't have her face in her hands crying her eyes out but she looked lost in thought. She always did these days.

It wasn't like Ahmed constantly stared at her in school or monitored her every move but ever since he'd seen her desperate call for help on Amira's phone, she became too hard not to notice.

"So you geh mind one do this debate?" Ahmed said as he approached her.

Tari turned to see him and a smile graced her lips. She was still in her white long-sleeved turtle neck and black flay skirt. It was undeniably a good look on her.

"I don't want to fail, abeg," Tari said dismissively, "and you know how mean that Miss. Isong is."

Ahmed sat next to Tari on the bench just like he'd done that day but this time, he could perceive the scent of her perfume. It had a strong and fruity smell. He liked it.

"I no fit do that debate oh, make I just talk my own now," Ahmed said playfully, but truthfully. They both knew that there was no way in that life that Ahmed Abbas Yusuf could stand in front of his classmates and do a debate. It just wasn't possible.

Tari scoffed as she stared at the lad who was just looking ahead either because he was ashamed of himself or simply because he was trying to sound very serious, she didn't know. "So what do you want to do?"

Ahmed didn't respond. And he didn't turn to look at her either.

Tari sighed before she reached for her purse next to her, opened it and retrieved small yellow note cards from it where she had written down a few points for Ahmed. She knew academics wasn't his strongest suit- it wasn't hers either- but they had to try at least.

"Wetin be this one?" Ahmed looked down at the cards handed to him with an amused look.

"Read lemme hear," Tari commanded and Ahmed turned to her and began laughing. She didn't understand what was tickling his fancy but she liked seeing him laugh.

Tari was in the middle of wondering why they never talked at school when her phone began ringing.

She retrieved it from her purse and check the caller ID.

Charles Elias.

For probably the hundredth time that day.

Ahmed watched Tari decline the call and put her phone on silent. He wondered why Charles was calling her and why she was declining his call but he didn't have time to ask.

"Oya, read!" Tari ordered again, with a contagious grin that Ahmed definitely contacted.

Somehow, Ahmed had found a way to get away with not prepping for the debate. They ended up riding the swings in the playground and running around like little children. The place was empty as usual and their laughter was the only thing that could be heard as the sun set.

They had lost track of time and nothing seemed to matter anymore. It was definitely something neither of them could explain. It was like they were just at peace and reality had taken a pause.

Ahmed noticed that Tari had become awfully quiet as he pushed her forth while she sat on the swing. She wasn't laughing and telling him to take it easy anymore.

It was getting dark.

"This one you no dey talk again. Wetin you dey think?" He finally asked her.

Tari heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm thinking about many things."

"Like wetin?"

Tari chuckled on remembering something. "Like, what happened the other day? When CJ pushed you?"

Ahmed hissed. He wasn't pushing her anymore. "No mind that idiot, I never get im time." He now stood in front of her and held onto the metal chains holding the swing she was sitting on in place. They were very close.

Tari looked into his dull eyes and sighed again. She decided to ask the question that she really wanted the answer to. "Why did you help me that day? Why did you come?"

Ahmed sighed too.

Maybe it would be best if he just told her the truth. He would tell her his story.