“She was about
going down on me when she started convulsing,” Abdul had explained amid
stutters and fearful looks around. “Then all of a sudden she went absolutely
still. I think she is dead.”
And she was indeed
dead. Neither Tuoyo nor I were doctors, but after a few cursory checks, we
confirmed our friend’s fear that his young lover was dead. I instantly became
panicky too, with ugly scenarios of a police enquiry and arrest running through
my head. I began screaming at Abdul, asking him what he had done to her, and he
kept insisting that he had done nothing, barely touched her.
This scared and
confused banter went on between the two of us till Tuoyo, who surprisingly
remained calm, suggested we dump the girl’s body fast, shocking us both.
“We can’t do
that,” Abdul had told him, “her friends know she's out with me. As a matter of
fact, her mother knows me and knows she’s out with me too. What do I say to
her?”
Abdul was, like
me, a married man but that did not stop him from keeping girlfriends and
picking up girls whenever the will came on him. Letty had been one of his
favourite side chicks and I was aware that her mother knew her daughter was
dating a married man but didn’t disapprove of it since Abdul took good care of
her financially.
Abdul was shaking
and prancing about like his shoes were full of hot coals. “I am done for. How
do I explain this to anyone? My life is finished. How do I explain this to the
police, how do I prove I did not kill her…”
“Let’s take her to
the hospital or police station. When they do an autopsy, it will be clear that
you did not kill her…” I had tried to reassure him.
“Autopsy in this
country?” Abdul had waved it off. “I’m done for, men, I’m done for. The
scandal… they will sack me straight at work. Then court case, endlessly
awaiting trial. Am I going to jail? Ahhhhhh, I can’t report to any police
station o, I can’t. That will be tantamount to me putting rope around my own
neck by myself.”
Then Tuoyo had
brought it up. That horrid idea that stank of sheer madness and diabolism, and
which in fact would have been ludicrously funny if not for the morbidity of the
situation we were in.
“I know this Priest
in Badagry that can bring her back.”
That had been it.
A brief statement that had the power to put an instant halt to the argument
Abdul and I had been having.
Don’t be silly, was the first thought that had come to
my head but I never formed them into words in the light of the seriousness on
his face and Abdul’s instant reaction to the statement.
“Really? Are you
sure of that?” My tall, charismatic, slightly pot-bellied yet handsome friend
had exclaimed. And without waiting for Tuoyo’s response, he had added, “If
that’s the case, what are waiting for?”
And that had been
it, the tiny voice of reason in my head stood no chance. I had gone with them,
certain Tuoyo’s crazy suggestion was just a waste of time, a total absurdity. They
would have to go with my suggestion in the end. Tuoyo had driven with me beside
him and Abdul in the backseat with the girl, eyes tightly shut like someone in
a nightmare.
It had all been
very surreal and nightmarish, and even more unreal now in retrospect. Tuoyo
taking us to that small house in Badagry, little bigger than a hut, secluded
and close to the rocky shores of the sea; and my two friends carrying the dead girl
in. I had refused to go with them and stayed put in the car.
It had been a long
wait, an eerie one too, being in that vehicle in which a young girl had died. But
to me, it was better than going into the hut with them to witness whatever
madness was going on.
I had finally slept
off and when they woke me, it was already dawn. They had the girl with them and
though they had to half-drag her into the back seat, still half-naked, big
breasts bobbing gently, I noted with utmost shock that she was moving. They had
indeed brought her back to life!
“I don’t think you
know what you are talking about,” I said now to my wife. “What Tuoyo, Abdul and
that Priest did with that girl, whatever it was, was terrible beyond
description. You know that’s why I have distanced myself from those two. I
don’t understand how you can even suggest…”
“I don’t care if
it’s terrible or evil. They brought her back, and I want him back too.”
“Folake…”
“I have nothing
without him, my life is meaningless… If I can't have him what am I still doing
on earth? I better just die. And I will do it, you know, If I can't have him
back, I will kill myself.”
“Why are you
talking like this! You have me, how can you say have nothing?” I was on her
now, shaking her as I whispered these words fiercely.
“You? You? And how
long will it be before you get yourself another woman? There’s nothing wrong
with you, you can still have kids, how long before you set yourself free from a
barren woman?”
I was stunned.
Where was all this coming from? “Folake, stop this…”
“All your friends
needed to pay was a hundred thousand naira, with a little extra for a goat, you
told me so yourself, so what’s the problem now? We have money, we have lots of
it, so why won’t you do it, why won’t you bring my baby back?”
“Because it’s
wrong.”
She scoffed.
“And I can't even
be so sure it really happened that way, that she was truly brought back from
the dead. I was drunk, we were all drunk. What if she hadn’t really been dead?”
I added.
“Don’t give me
that. You know it was all real. In any case, we can try, we can at least try.
Please, Jide, let’s try. Please bring back my baby.”
And there we
stood, Folake and I, in my son’s blue room, watching his still form in that
little bed of his with its headboard shaped like Winnie the Pooh and his tons
of toys surrounding us, contemplating and actually thinking of doing this thing
– this madness.
Even without
saying yes, I knew I would do it for her; I would do anything for her. She was
my wife and I loved her dearly. There was nothing I would not do for her.
The Story Continues>>>Click Here for the Part 3
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