NEMESIS
I heard the knock the first, second and the third time accompanied by the bleating of goats at my door. I looked beside me. My wife was still fast asleep. I turned and stood contemplating whether to take my dane gun or just ask who the intruder is. I took my flashlight and torched it on the opposite wall. The time was some minutes past midnight. The knocking resumed with urgency and at the same time louder than before. I heard my name repeatedly in sotto voce. I recognized the voice but can't make out whose it is. As if reading my mind, the voice announced itself.
'It is me, Aliru', he said. Of course, I know Aliru. He is one of the traders in the cattle market. Of late, he has become wealthy overnight. Rumour has it that he is working for the deadly group but there are no facts to bear it up. I opened the door. As soon as the door opened, a silhouette retreated further into the dark. He was a tall slim man standing in the middle of goats with something shaped like metal hanging firmly at his side. A momentary fright seized my spine traveling up to my head, giving me goose pimples. I coughed, breaking the unbearable silence. It was Aliru who spoke first.
'Good evening our friend, he began, my friend here, he said, pointing to the silhouette, has a business deal for you.' He stepped aside and beckoned to the silhouette who approached like a wind. His head was turbaned, a tiny space left for his face that could not be seen. He had a strong smell of perfume that momentarily dispossessed me of my senses. All I wanted to do at that instant was to do whatever he says. I seem to come back to myself when he spoke. He spoke in a dialect of Hausa I could not fully understand. All I could make out was that he was a stranded rustler that needed to sell off his livestock to return to Niger, his country. The goats were numbering forty and he needed just thirty thousand naira for them!
'Only thirty thousand naira', I repeated with disbelieve. I deal in cattle and goats and in all my years of trading, I have never heard or seen anyone selling his livestock cheaply not even when there is a riot and most people have fled their homes. I got back and found my wife fully awake.
'Who were you speaking with', she asked yawning and wiping her eyes. I said nothing but reached for my leather bag where I keep my money. I counted and found just twenty thousand naira. I dare not ask my wife for money. Otherwise the whole business will become a talk of town.
'I'm sorry my friend, all I have here is twenty thousand naira', I said to him. The man paused for a while, looked at my friend and nodded. He waited few seconds before collecting the money and then thanking me profusely. I led the goats to the back of the house where I keep all my goats and watched the two men disappear into the dark. I couldn't believe my luck! Thirty thousand naira for forty goats! That was more than luck! I returned to the house thinking about the man and his story. What if I have just walked into a trap? I was still in deep thought when I fell into the arms of sleep.
A week later the two men were back same at the ungodly hour. I went out as usual but the business this time is such that I mustn't refuse or face the consequences. I was to help the man get whatever the deadly group needed, stack them in my house while I give them a call and they come for it in the dead of night. He promised handsome compensation for every transaction. Part of my duty is to lead the suicide bombers; boys and girls below fifteen years to targeted markets and car parks to wreck havoc. I bought a lot of things for the group.
Everything was moving very fast. My business witnessed increment in record time. My wife too, lost in the daze of money couldn't challenge me on my involvement with the deadly group. If she ever did, it was only a slap on the wrist.
There was deathly silence as I came towards home. Even the wind seems to stop. There was a general note of hopelessly hanging in thr atmosphere. I noticed people, a few distance from my house in groups speaking in hushed tones. As soon as I came in view, they shook their heads and sighed. My heart trembled as I neared them. The fear that my secrets had come to the open clutched at my heart. I knew something bad had happened. No one was willing to tell me just yet. I asked one of my neighbours who, instead of speaking, shook his head, looking at me.
Someone ran out of my door as I made to open it. It was my cousin.
'Kawuna, they have killed them', he lamented, throwing himself dejectedly on the ground.
'Who...who killed who', was my question. My legs were already losing their grip on the ground. My mind was turning all kinds of possible calamity that may have happened. Did something happen to my elder brother and his family? He was supposed to be having his daughter's nikkai which I was soon to join.
The tears and loud moan that invaded him was carried even further by some women who had just come into the crowd. Their sobs added to my suspense. I knew whatever has happened must have to be heavy enough to bring these people crowding my door. Someone who was bolder among them came to draw me aside. The look in his old tired eyes flashed my wife and son to my mind. I feared for the worst.
'Your wife and son are dead'. The way he said it lacked any iota of empathy. He paused and watched my reaction. In my mind I imagined him gloating while I processed the news that sounded like a far away tale.
'How...how come?'
'It happened at the car park'.
When I heard 'car park', I needed no one to tell me anything further. My wife and son had crossed path with the suicide bombers I led to the motor park earlier that day.
The driver of the bus they boarded had decided to take another route on their way to my uncle's house because of the traffic on the Sabon gida road, someone who narrowly escaped the scene told me. The wind I sowed has brought whirlwind to my door post.
THE END.
Glossary
Kawuna- My uncle
Nikkai- A moslem wedding ceremony.
It is good you are here today. Thank you for your support. Let's make it a date another time. I am Your Truly,
Julius Topohozin.
