Olanrewaju Odesomi: The chosen one’s dilemma- Episode 8 (Y! Fiction)

by Olanrewaju Odesomi

Shola watched Muna, as she hoisted spoon after spoon of rice into her mouth from where he sat opposite her in his dinning area. She had asked to be fed before she began to spill her guts, and Shola, although restless, and a bit agitated, concealed it all, and obliged her with a plate of the remains for the night, before he proceeded to watch her with a straight face.

Muna ate silently, the clinging of her spoon against the plate the only monotonous sound in the room. There was a rechargeable lamb, gleaming in the middle of the table between both of them. She ate silently, deep in thought, as the act of eating seemed perfunctory at best, or something to stall whatever it is she was about revealing.

The rain was no longer ferocious, but rather, a whimper of soft drips that hummed softly in the shadows of the night. She finished, and looked up. They looked at each other – him starring, she gawking.

“Thanks for the food.” She whispered, as she dropped the spoon. Shola nodded as he watched her pour herself a cup of water, and gulped it at a go.

“So?” Shola said, his arms entwined on the table. She raised an eye brow, and then bit her lower lip. “You really want to know?” She asked, as her face formed into a slight frown. Shola disengaged his hands and spread them in futility. She smiled sadly. “Ok.” She paused. “I was contacted to take a package to Mushin. It was in the briefcase you saw me with the first time.”

Shola interjected her. “What was in it, and who was it for?” She starred blankly, and took her time. “I don’t know him personally, but he was someone close to the Governor. And, to do that, I had to play along, or blend with the crowd, thus my attire that day.”

“So, you didn’t kill him?” He wanted to believe it.

“No. How could I have?” She laughed. It looked forced to Shola.

“And?” Shola clasped his hands together again.

“That was all I did.” She confessed softly, barely above a whisper. It was Shola’s turn to frown. She didn’t meet his gaze, but instead, averted it to stare at everything but him.

“Did you know he would die?” He was resting back now, a bland look on his face, and for reasons alien to him, his heart was racing. She finally looked at him, and smiled ruefully. Shola was beginning to think she forced a smile everytime she was nervous.

Her hands were slightly shaking, as she swallowed hard. From what though, he would like to know.

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“Maybe I did.” She averted her gaze again, and fidgeted with the spoon in front of her. Shola was disappointed, and then angry. He was disappointed that she knew about the intended murder of a sitting Governor, and then participated in putting it into motion. And then angry at himself for feeling disappointed when he already knew she was privy to certain shadowy things.

There was an awkward silence in the room that stretched for minutes. Shola broke it. “So, why do they want you dead?” Muna’s eyes widened, and her mouth slightly opened. She starred blankly at the beaming lamp. “Collateral damage. Am not even suppose to be here. But then, they would have chased me down, even if I were to be in Kafanchan.”

“Why did you do it?”

“A pervation for the dangerous maybe. Or just plain stupidity.” She was still starring at the light. “The money was good too, and I wasn’t directly involved in any murder.” She resumed biting her lower lip, her look, faraway. “I had it coming to be honest. It has always been a choice from since I was a kid, to lean towards degeneracy.” She looked at him, her eyes snapping out of its reverie.

“So, you’ve been doing this before, I guess?” Shola scratched his brows. She smiled shyly, and nodded. “Is that all you know? How about why they killed him? Why they involved me In the whole charade? Why…why…why…?” He trailed off.
“That’s all I know to be honest. What I was told was that it would put into motion certain things.”

“Certain things?”

“I had an inkling, yes. But, the end game is something that is lost on me.” Muna stood up, and took the plate, her eyes wandering around the room, trying to look for the exit to the kitchen. Shola got up immediately too, and separated the distance between them, and tried to get the plate off her. She resisted, and said “Don’t worry, I will take it myself.”
Shola ignored the statement, and tried to pry it from her hands. Their hands touched, and both of them paused. Something was surging. The electricity between them was enough to light up the house. She quickly released the plate, and sat down. Shola was still rooted at a spot, his eyes locked on her face.

They both left her to pack her wares. They staggered at first, before bettering the aftermath of the liquid in them, and stabled their long strides. They had work to do, and it involved the shadows. They knew how to get in, and out of places, especially when protected by the dim lights of the moon.

 

He sighed deeply, and turned, leaving for the kitchen.

—————————————————-

“Drink up, and let’s move.” Baba Kekere told

Owo blow from behind the sepe seller’s new shed. The bigger Owo blow checked his watch. He nodded and threw the remains in the small cup in his mouth. His body shook as the liquid stung his throat, and lungs, and he whistled softly from the effect.

Baba Kekere was already on his feet. It was around eleven at night, and the road side was almost deserted except for themselves, and the sepe seller, who had already asked them to finish up so she could leave. He bounced, as the alcoholic concoctions in his system went to work. His clouded sight, was thin, as his eyes threatened to close.

Owo blow stood up finally, and went through the pocket of his skin tight jean for money. He brought out some, wrapped into a ball, and then straightened them out. He managed to extract a hundred naira note from the fold, and gave it to woman, who checked them twice to make sure they were the right amount, and original too.

They both left her to pack her wares. They staggered at first, before bettering the aftermath of the liquid in them, and stabled their long strides. They had work to do, and it involved the shadows. They knew how to get in, and out of places, especially when protected by the dim lights of the moon.

Baba kekere was attired in a flowing babariga, that danced with the wind. They crossed the road, and got to the other side, and turned into a small blind alley. There, waiting for them was a stolen bike, seating idly. Owo block jumped on it, and started it with a kick. It responded with a loud roar, that splitted the silence. Baba kekere jumped on it too, and patted the pocket of his babariga, and felt the bulk of the steel nestled there.

Owo blow jerked the bike forward, almost throwing his friend off it. Baba kekere steadied himself, and patted the pistol in his pocket again as he urged his partner to drive faster.

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