He sprinted at breakneck speed, almost resembling a sprinter. His oversized shirt billowed in the wind, making it appear as if he had wings.
Before venturing out in the morning, he could feel his heart racing. It was a special day because they were visiting the wealthiest person in the state, surpassing even his relatives in other states. Excitement coursed through him, but he had no idea of the ordeal awaiting him.
As he walked, beads of sweat formed along his brow, yet he pushed forward, driven by determination. He scanned the group of ominous individuals congregating near his house. Their ominous presence was accentuated by the menacing weapons concealed beneath their clothes. Destiny had led him into their domain, and they were intent on making his life miserable. They answered to a higher authority, as their leader was the favored child of DIKKO DILLA.
Some had faces adorned with intricate tattoos, and their imposing builds hinted at physical prowess. Their eyes bore witness to violence, showing no signs of mirth. This neighborhood was not a place one ventured into unintentionally; it was the domain of King Zaki NEYO.
As he ran towards his house, his oversized, once-white shirt, now brown and puffed with air, made him look as though he might take flight. He was greeted at his home’s entrance by an unfamiliar battalion of people, much like a foreigner’s residence.
Entering the courtyard, his confusion deepened as he encountered an unsettling figure he hadn’t seen in a long while.
She sat there, calculating Saida’s data, which contained half-filled juice boxes scattered around due to her idleness.
With a wry smile, she couldn’t help but remember his pleas from earlier in the morning. She remarked, “Why are you trembling like a child afraid of scorpions? You’re in town now, calculating how much you’ll owe me. I know you’ve been in this business for years, yet you’ll struggle to come up with the money to pay me.”
He attempted to regain his composure, closing his eyes momentarily, his sweat-drenched shirt sticking to his body. He opened his eyes, resembling a puzzled foreigner, and replied, “Qaddara wanted to borrow Zaki Neyo’s shoes, which you’re admiring. He said they cost five thousand, and they had to skin both his legs to escape a pack of rabid dogs and Alhaji Dikko Dillah. So, they handed him over to the mob and beggars who found him at his doorstep, despite the presence of the police guarding the house.”
Her frustration and disappointment grew as she listened. She reached out to collect her goats and chickens, corralling them in the middle of the courtyard. Her animals seemed resigned to their fate, understanding that they would soon be sacrificed for no apparent reason.
A woman inside the chicken coop issued a stern warning, securely shutting the door with a latch. She then retrieved the lock and resumed her task of gathering her possessions.
“NADIA, my father’s mother, what are you doing by the stove? Are you trying to hoard all my belongings in the center of the house? You have no connection to your father; he brought the worst disaster upon us in 1990.”
She placed the rubber plate on the stove’s fire. In Dan’s household, once someone entered a room during a heated argument, they wouldn’t leave until their anger subsided. However, Nadia had to leave the room due to a recent catastrophe on Tuesday. When she did, Dan vented some of his anger on her, driven by unfounded fears and suspicions that festered within the family. She feared him more than anyone else, despite all the hardships she had endured.
