Anas’s Point of View
The Bold Step
“What
do you mean Anas? Is this a prank or something? Why are you just realizing
this?” Barakah asks, trailing me with suspicious eyes.
Her
face is dripping of sweat despite the movement of the creaky standing fan in
the living room. I can perceive a faint smell of the mixture of cologne and
perspiration. The red lipstick she would probably have applied in the morning
appears smeared and the brown powder’s mixture with the sweat gives her face a
muddy look.
“I
saw something in the room this morning…a diary where Najwa pens down her daily
thoughts. It was written there that she doesn’t love me and she never will. Her
last words state that ‘I will trick him into thinking that I still love him…so
that our fake display of public affection will look very real. He will never be
my kind of man.’” I say, watching as Barakah’s lips twitch into a smile.
“So?”
she rolls her eyes, appearing to have doubt in what I had just said.
“So
our marriage was all a lie. I’ve just come to realize that I’ve been wrong all
these while…that you’re the one I truly love. Have I been blind all through
these years?” I fake a frown, placing my palm over my forehead.
“Yes,
you’ve been blind not to have noticed me. I’ve always known that we were meant
for each other.” She walks closer, grinning excitedly.
“Najwa
fled because she knows what she did at the company. She left me and Sahadat and
ran away.” I sob.
Barakah
runs her fingers over my shirt. “This is the right time to get married for
good. I will assume Najwa’s position and become a TV presenter. We will become
the people’s couple crush and this time, our affection will be real…not like
you and Najwa.” She scowls as she makes mention of the name; Najwa.
“What
would people say? Najwa’s best friend getting married to her husband?” I raise
my eyes.
Barakah
roars in laughter and paces around me. “Who cares what people say? What matters
is that we love each other. There’s nothing new under the sun, my love…when
should we get married? Tomorrow? Next week? It should be as soon as possible!!!”
Barakah squeals in excitement, moving closer to place a kiss on my lips.
I
cringe internally and take a few steps backward. “Let’s take things one step at
a time, my love. First, I’m starving… can you prepare one of your delicious
meals?” I smile seductively.
“Of
course! What do you want? Jollof rice? Amala
and efo riro? Semo and egusi? Just name
it…you know that I beat Najwa a thousand times in the kitchen.” She laughs.
I
can spot the crookedness of her teeth and one of her front teeth slightly
broken and forming a ‘V’ shape. I have never realized how ugly and unattractive
Barakah is until today!
“I
know that, my love. I’ll prefer iyan
and efo riro.” I reply.
Barakah
jumps in triumph. “I’ll make that. Kindly make yourself comfortable. I’ll make
it specially for you, darling. I promise you, you’ll cut your tongue in
pleasure.” She winks at me as she hurries out of the living room.
I
let out a smug smile as I watch her leave the living room. Iyan and efo riro will
keep her busier in the kitchen. This is the best time to take the bold step and
execute my plan.
As
soon as I hear the kitchen door close, I rise into action. Barakah’s black bag
is lying at the centre of the table, half open. I jostle towards the table and
furiously rummage through it.
She
hasn’t emptied her bag and I can still spot the chisels and nails in it. A
black nylon hides deep and it is evident that it is bell pepper. Barakah would
need it for the efo riro…
“I
need to take the ata rodo I bought
from my bag…” I hear her voice from a distant.
In
the flash of a second, I carefully return the bag to its former position and
return to my seat, pretending to be engrossed on my phone.
Barakah
returns to the living room sweating more profusely and reeking of bad
perspiration. “I want to take the ata
rodo for the soup. Should I add enough pepper? Do you want your mouth to
become watery and make the ‘shu shu shu’
sound?” she laughs in excitement.
I
smile delightfully. “The pepper should be more than enough. I can’t wait to eat
this food because I haven’t eaten anything good in a long time.
“Okay,
my darling.” She says, holding the nylon of bell pepper and returning to the
kitchen.
As
soon as she leaves, I continue with my mission. I search her bag and bring out
her bunch of keys. There are several keys in the bunch and it is hard to tell
which one belongs to the main entrance. Gingerly, I take steps towards the door
and try each of them. After the fifth attempt, I spot the right key for
the main entrance. It is of silver colour and has a crooked bend at the edge. I
remove it from the bunch and dip it into my trouser pocket.
I
am certain that Najwa will be in this house…only if she’s still alive. Barakah
wouldn’t want her to slip at the tip of her finger and keeping her at home would
be the best decision she can make.
The question is: where would she
be?
“I
want to use the toilet!” I call out to Barakah, who has started to make the
sauce as the whole house is wafting of fried pepper and onions.
“Enter
the lobby…it’s the last door by the right.” She screams from the kitchen.
“Okay,
thanks.”
It’s time to find out where Najwa
can possibly be!
There
are four doors; two at the right and left respectively. The first at the right
is the kitchen and first at the left is Barakah’s room. It is unlocked and I
can see her small-sized wardrobe and well-spread bed. The second to the left is
a room. I try to open it but it is locked. The last room by the right is the
toilet.
Why is this room locked?
I
return to the living room in haste to grab the bunch of keys again. The sound
of the sauce frying fills the whole room and I’m grateful for that. I return to
the room door and try out all the keys. Surprisingly, the key isn’t part of the
bunch.
“Anas,
have you seen the toilet?” Barakah calls.
I
run into the toilet and turn on the tap. “Yes? What did you say?”
“Don’t
worry, I can see you’re in there already.”
Running
water over my head, I wonder why that particular room is locked and the reason
the key is nowhere to be found. Maybe that’s where Najwa was killed…or kept
hostage.
I
return to the living room looking disappointed and frustrated. How do I find
Najwa when the door is locked?
Determined
to not give up, I search the living room’s shelf for any trace of a key. I check
the stack of books and collection of DVDs. Nothing is found there. Scanning
around the room, I can spot the foot mat by the entrance, looking bent.
Inquisitively, I open it. Behold, a small-rusted key lies underneath it.
“Anas?”
a voice makes me tremble in fright.
“Yes?”
I turn back. Barakah is standing behind me, giving me a shrewd look. She smells
of garlic and pepper.
“What
are you doing there?”
I
laugh in pretence, placing the table mat in an orderly way. “Oh…the foot mat
wasn’t well laid…so I decided to fix it right.”
Barakah
stares at me for a long time. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting a bit weird
since you got here.”
I
stand up and try to act normal. “I am a hungry man who is madly in love with a
beautiful woman. I am hungry for food and love.” I smile at her.
Barakah
laughs in delight as she takes a seat. “I’m boiling the yam and I’ve prepared
the soup. The food will be ready in no time. I want us to talk about our life
together…where should we spend our honeymoon? I’m considering Paris but I heard
that the Maldives is a nice place to explore and enjoy the beauty of nature… we
should have three children… two boys and a girl…I want to live at Lekki…I want
to drive Toyota Corolla… economical and durable…I want to give birth in India…”
Barakah is trailing off but all I can think of is the key beneath the foot mat
and how I lost my chance of getting it. Maybe that’s the key for the door.
I
need to leave this house and devise a new plan. “Oops, Mrs. Susan just sent me
a message. She’s going out. I kept Sahadat with her. I need to return home
now.”
Barakah
eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Oh, okay. But all these would end when we
get married. I will always be there to take care of Sahadat,” she smiles
softly.
“Thanks.
Let me be on my way…”
“How
about the food? You’re hungry…”
“Yes,
I am. But I have to get there on time because she has an appointment.”
“Okay…I’ll
pack the soup in a plate for you. You can buy fufu or make eba when you
get home. I’ll pack what would be enough for you and Sahadat.” She smiles
proudly as she returns to the kitchen.
I
use that opportunity to take the key from the foot mat. Barakah packs the plate
of soup in a small bag and waves at me. “I hope to see you soon. I love you.”
“I
love you more than you can ever imagine. We’ll talk later.” I smile at her as I
open the gate and leave the compound.
I
am sitting in my car, staring at Barakah’s gate from a distance and thinking of
my next plan of action. I had thrown the soup into the nearest dust bin…who knows
what she might have added to it? Love charm? Poison? I would never be another
of her victim.
I
check the time on my wristwatch. It is 6:30 pm. “9:00 pm, I will take the bold
step,” I mutter, still staring at Barakah’s brown gate.
***
9:00
pm on the dot, I am in front of Barakah’s door. I had no problem getting into
the compound because the gate is open as some of the occupants of the building
have still not returned from their various places of work.
I
unlock the door with the stolen key and peek into the house. The living room is
pitch-black and everywhere is silent.
“I sleep around 8:30 pm every
night. If I sleep anything later than that, I will wake up the next morning
feeling groggy and sick.” I’ve heard Barakah tell Najwa this
couple of times. I can only executive this mission when she is fast asleep and
this is the right time.
I
walk gingerly into the lobby and silently open Barakah’s room door. I am right.
She is fast asleep and she would have no idea of what is going on around her.
I
move to the door of the locked room; the reason I’ve returned to Barakah’s
house. I try the key stolen from underneath the foot mat and surprisingly, it opens
the door.
Putting
on my torchlight, I enter the dust-filled room and scan through it, my heart
thumping loudly and my hands trembling.
The
room is bigger than I imagined. Houseflies are buzzing from around a corner and
the room is wafting of an odour like that of a refuse bin. I notice pictures on
the wall and flash the torchlight on them.
I
squeal in fear, staring at them one after the other. “Kill Najwa…Be Najwa…Marry Anas. Najwa has to leave. Najwa is a
hindrance. You have to become Najwa!” Several inscriptions of this sort are
written on the wall.
There
are also pictures of Najwa with the ‘X’ sign drawn across them; drawn in
thick-red colour. Also, pictures of Najwa and Barakah with her head chopped off
and a danger sign underneath it. It is implausible. I wish all this is a
dream…that I would wake up beside Najwa on the bed and realize that it is just
a nightmare…that I had watched a horror movie the previous night and it is
taking effect on my sleep.
The
houseflies buzz becomes louder and I hear faint moans from a distance. Cleaning
the sweat streaking down my face and my moistened eyes with the tip of my shirt
sleeve, I take slow steps towards the area.
I’m
frightened. I’ve very scared, knowing fully well that I would see would be
unimaginable. Najwa’s body soiled in blood? Najwa body filled with maggots and
insects? Gosh! I want all these to become a dream.
The
moans become louder as I take closer steps towards the area. Swallowing hard, I
flash my torchlight and I see Najwa. Her hands and feet are tied together. Her
mouth is sealed and she is sitting on a bare floor. She looks bedraggled and
hunger-stricken. Her eyes are swollen and red and her cheeks are hollow. Her
hair is matted and she is reeking of a foul smell.
“Najwa!”
I scream, holding her in my arms and placing a kiss on her right cheek. “I’m
sorry…I’m here for you…I will save you from your evil friend…we will go home
and start a new life together with Sahadat…” I am saying as Najwa cries.
I
take my phone from my pocket and dial the Police. I was right all along…Najwa
had been in Barakah’s house.
Najwa
moans loudly but I can’t tell why. Her eyes are directed behind me as she moans
loudly. What could be the problem? Is that a sign? Is Barakah here…
“No
so fast Anas.” Bakarah’s voice fills the room as she hits me with an iron rod.
I fall to the ground with a loud thud as I watch her smash my phone. I can see
blood dripping from my head.
“I
just knew it…I knew you were up to something. Now we have the husband and
wife.” Barakah roars in laughter as she walks out of the room, locking the door
behind us.
A/N: This is me feeling like James Bond while writing this episode yesterday😛😛😛 Happy reading!!!
Don't miss out on the previous episodes:
It's really a James bond kind of story��. Beautiful stories. Keep it up
ReplyDeleteThank you!!!
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