ADAMAWA STATE, NIGERIA.

"I can't believe this! You got married to that girl without my consent? No, keep consent aside. You got married without telling me? Who told you that you have the right to do as you please just because you are older now? You are still my son! I gave birth to you." Ruwaidha kept quiet to take a deep breath, her throat parched from so much shouting and yelling.

Ahmad just got a call from his mother right before he left for the office around ten in the morning. He got married few hours ago but for the time he's spent digging up some case in his room, he's forgotten about the marriage on his head till he saw his mother's call. The minute he saw her name flashing on his screen, he knew shit is about to hit the fan and if he doesn't gather up good explanation, she'd disown him.

The fact that she loathes Fatima is going to be the main problem and look at them. Her concern is that he got married to Fatima even though he is sure this spark would've come even if he got married to another girl. He vowed to never marry and she knew he wasn't joking when he said that but suddenly this? She has the right.

Normally, Ahmad will call to tell her he is leaving for the office and won't be able to come in as it is urgent but he didn't want to do that today. He wants to get over this once and for all so he can continue dealing with his changed life. So many things needs to be done and if he is being honest, he just wants to escape reality or fly to Texas to calm himself down. It is happening too fast for his liking.

It all feels chimerical. Not exactly in a fanciful way but something he is unable to explain, no joy or felicity.

He sighed, surfing through the words his mother would like to hear at the moment. Apart from apology, what else do mother love to hear all the time?

"I got married not because I want to, I had to fulfill a promise I made her father. When I took her to the hospital, I heard that she needs surgery and that will render her infertile. It is either that surgery or she gets married as soon as possible. Her father told me about it and I promised to get him a nice groom for his daughter but he wanted me to marry her." He kept quiet, waiting for her to digest it but she interrupted the silence.

"Oh do continue. I want to know why you agreed to this so called marriage when the mere mention of it makes you want to puke!" Okay, she is not ready to back down but what is done is done.

He smiled at her, she didn't share the joke because her face remain stoic and austere. "I promised to get the groom by the next morning but I couldn't. Trust me, I tried to do all I can but it is not possible to get someone willing to marry her not because of her father's wealth and -"

He was cut off by his mother's huff of annoyance. "And you are the nice person willing to marry her not because of her father's wealth? Do tell me please, I want to know." She crossed her arms underneath her bosom, face stern and still very much angry.

He raked his hands through his growing hair and sigh. If his mother is ready to listen, she would but she clearly wants to harry him with diatribe in any possible way she can. "You know more than anyone that I have nothing to do with the affluent."

His answer is curt, he wants to end it and leave. There are things he needs to do and very few hours remain for the day. "I know but I am still not getting your point. How did you end up married to that brat?"

Brat. The name suits Fatima if only she was spoiled instead of ruined by her own father.

"It's a promise I made that I had to fulfill. Do you have any other thing to say or should I see myself out?" Yes, he is being curt but sometimes his mother just doesn't know where to stop.

There are times when his father was alive, his mother is the one causing fights intentionally which result to so many things shattering. She doesn't know when things are funny or not, she only thinks everyone is trying to mock or take advantage of her. His mother is not perfect but she loves him just like he loves her too. He knew about her flaw and make sure to stay far away from them most of the time. This is one of them, she wants something.

Her face looks hurt and her expression repelled to anger. "I wanted you to get married to Aalia but you ended up with her sister which makes it impermissible. I hope this marriage never works out." With that, she flaunt her robe and left him standing there with mouth ajar.

She doesn't want his marriage to work out. He couldn't blame her, he doesn't want it to work out too. But then what? What will happen to their lives after being married to one another only to be separated? What is the essence of agreeing with the marriage then? God, he hates this!

Filing a case is a simple job but finding out the reason it is filed is also another trouble. He cannot speak Hausa to save his life, listening to the woman rant in Hausa to Constable Ashiru made his ears bleed not because the language is horrendous but the raconteur narrating it is making it sound like someone is peeing while yelling in toilet. It echoes and makes complete nonsense in his head but watching the constable nodding his head makes him relax.

She is not only ranting nonsense, thank God.

His mother hardly speaks in Hausa and when she does, it is because the other person don't understand English and even if she talks in that twist, you will find out instantly that she doesn't use that tongue anymore. The language is twisted in her mouth, changing from one thing to completely another. He's heard his Aunt Adeelah laughing at her because she was trying to say something about plate when she changed everything to clothe. How can one language and one word have many meanings?

"Brooo!" A voice drawled from afar and it sounded very family to Ahmad's ears so he raise his head immediately something he wouldn't have done. Why would someone he screaming like that?

There stood Jameel Nabayi with wide grin enough to make the earth shatter, glistening white teeth with gap between the two front ones. Ahmad gave a confused smile but stood up, as if believing Jameel is messing with his head after their phone call last night but then, Ahmad is never one to imagine or daydream about anything. There is no ounce of doubt that that person standing at the corridor of his office is none other than Jameel Nabayi.

How did he manage to get there without anyone coming to tell him he's got a visitor? They usually never permit anyone to come see him directly, even Musa Babagana didn't get the special treatment. Then again, Jameel Nabayi could do everything to get his way and only God knows what he's done to get himself there. There was no commotion from the other side of the station though. Did he bribe anyone? He immediately frowned, he wants to stop them from accepting bribery and he can't have his friend ruining that for him.

Standing up, he trudged forward and meet him midway. The guy is one excited ball bouncing all around as they bro hugged. They haven't met in so many years, only time to time phone calls when one of them have nothing to do or the other needs help. Friendship doesn't need constant reminder that you are in someone's life, remember each other once in a while and that is sufficient.

"You, here?" Ahmad questioned, moving back to give him a cross over from head to tips of his toes. He looks good and I'm extremely comfortable health than the last time he's met him suffering from chronic ulcer.

Jameel is embellished in straight slim jeans, a white cotton top and tan leather jacket atop. A wrap around sunglasses is now placed on his forehead which Ahmad was sure shielded his eyes on his bike. His concave nose flattened a bit with further splitting lines as his smile kept on widening like a kid, his excitement almost contagious that Ahmad found himself smiling back. It is a genuine smile he hasn't given anyone in a while. His deep wide set eyes crinkled around the edge.

"It's so good seeing you again. You've grown taller, right? We were the same height before but look at you now all grown and thriving." Jameel wiggled his brows knowing fully well he's never been the same height as Ahmad. He is five feet nine while Ahmad is six feet two.

Ahmad shook his head, pivoted to see whether Constable Ashiru is still dealing with the woman so he can take his friend to his office. Constable Ashiru and the woman have stopped what they were doing and their attention is fully on them. Ahmad sighed, that man is always distracted whenever Ahmad tries interacting with people. He makes him feel as though he lacks humanity and the mundane things he does is fascinating. Seriously!

The woman is staring with a small gape of her full dark lips. She has this look and glint of appreciation in her eyes which made him uncomfortable. She is at least forty years old, almost his mother's age mate, it should be inappropriate. In situations like this, he used to ask why he was made the way he is and what is so special about him that attracts attention like that? It is almost ethereal, unbelievable. He is just average looking, they don't want to acknowledge that or is he being too modest? There is nothing extraordinary! He has no colored eyes like his father or colored hair.

"Constable Ashiru, I'll be in my office with my guest. Ring for tea and make sure no one disturbs us." With that, he made a quick escape along with Jameel.

"Whoa! I never knew police officers in Nigeria get to have such well-heeled, outstanding stupendous office! I would've joined the police academy years ago." Jameel took in the well assembled and constructed office that looks almost similar to the one Ahmad had back in Texas.

"Why, thank you. You may have a sit before you fall off the window. I don't want a suicide case or in this situation, accidental death getting recorded at this time of the day. I have so many things to do." Ahmad opened his MacBook and paid half attention to what is loading there then smiled triumphantly.

Hearing the silence in the room when he knew someone is there with him, Ahmad raise his head to see what is going on only to see Jameel wiggling brows like a lady teasing her friend. He chortled, the guy will never grow up but he liked him like that. He is good humored, farcical and entertaining, something Ahmad isn't and can never be.

"Why are you acting like a lady now?" He implored, his eyes concentrating on nothing but the MacBook in front of him and whatever it is that is written there.

Jameel chuckled at the statement. "Well, I want you to tell me how you feel as a married man. Do you feel the change or it's just neutral without acid and base?"

Ahmad's smile faded a bit, he's forgotten about the marriage on his head. He really is a married man and Fatima Musa Babagana's husband no less. Wow! How could he forget such crucial information that is supposed to harangue him the whole day? Surprising, nothing of that sort came to him as he was busy the whole time with Constable Ashiru or his laptop. He is not supposed to keep thinking about her is he? They are married and that is just it.

Something just hit him hard, punched his gut, poured like an onslaught and influx him in an avalanche. Just being married to Fatima will not suddenly make her better and the surgery won't be cancelled until something happens. What the actual fuck! He didn't think about that circumstances when he was listing out the thousands, surfeit and myriad of cons that hanged with getting married to Fatima. There was no pros in his list as she is the real definition of trouble kids are advised to stay away from. How could they be pros?

They are going to have to become intimate before she gets better. How is he going to do that? Oh heck no! She will just have to deal with her illness and when she cannot bear it anymore, accept that she is not destined to have an offspring. She will be happy anyways. Girls like her never think about kids, or do they? She didn't strike to him as someone who would be affectionate and dotty over a child. That is another score for her.

Why didn't he think about this locale earlier before now? He wouldn't have accepted it no matter how much fulfilling promise now means to him! He's failed people in the past and vowed to never do it again, that was why he took this promise. Maybe he shouldn't have after all. Maybe he is meant to keep failing people always and forever.

"There is no difference, man. Same thing as usual. And honestly, I've forgotten that I'm now a married man." He shrugged like it was no big the but hell it is.

Jameel laughed, as if expecting that answer. "I knew you were going to say something along that line. Just know that you are to take her to your home. Are you ready?"

Ahmad sobered. He is ready because he's bought a house already, fully furnished to his liking. He will be moving there the next day with Fatima. How is that going to happen? Will he carry her caveman style? Because Fatima won't go with him willing, that much, he knows.

"More than ready." He turned the head of his MacBook so Jameel could see from the opposite side. "Take a look at the house I bought few days ago. I never knew log cabins exist in Nigeria till I came across this. It's actually the first log cabin built in whole Nigeria and they are not planning on doing it again."

Jameel made a look of astonishment, nodding his head dramatically like a lizard. "This place is like heaven. I've never seen log cabin too around here. You are one lucky bastard, ya know." He is still looking at the house, viewing the rooms and other place in sight.

"I've always loved log cabins. They are more comfortable and less lonely."

"True that. This one should be made a home, honestly. It is going to make whole more sense." Jameel commented easily not knowing what he's just said is the thing that will never be possible.

Making that place a home with Fatima? What a joke meant to be said in private! Tacenda.

Commotion outside the office halted Ahmad from replying back to Jameel. He hastily stood up, touched his piston behind his trousers then made his way out with that catlike grace. He searched the hallway for any danger, when he found none, he stuck his body back to the office and warned. "Don't leave the office, Jameel."

Jameel grunted. "I'm I a kid? I can protect myself."

Ahmad didn't listen further to his tantrum and left the office to the main building where prisons and lower ranked officers are. He surveyed the surrounding and found no peril or hazard, only the woman standing in the middle of station with her hands akimbo and eyes glinting with fire. He almost thought it was Fatima but another look at her lighter shade of skin told him otherwise. This lady is taller and fiercer than Fatima, they just share the same fire.

"I want her out of jail immediately!"