PRESIDENT'S SON AND I

4: Homeless

ZAFIR

I stood beside him on the carpet, cringing whenever I had to touch the hem of his babban Riga. I knew this was supposed to be the congregational prayer, it was Friday for heaven's sake, but why are there camera's taking picture of me and Daddy? For what? Just to post it on social media with the caption 'President Anas Garko and his son, Zafir on the Friday ground today...' And whatever nonsense they'd add to that?

I'm honestly so tired of this life. I wish there would be a Friday where I could go and pray as every normal muslim would. Not this type of prayer where I had to fake being polite to one of the people I hated the most. The reason I turned out the way I was now. I had to ride with him on our way to the mosque and after. Stay by his side until we finished the prayer and then had to endure the ride back to the Villa with him.

When the prayer ended, there was another torture of having to great all those father's that smiled at me with love in their eyes but I'm sure if I were to open their hearts, I'd see nothing but my hatred and that of my father in their hearts. Some of them were being this good to me because of him. Some because they wanted me to marry one of their daughters, and some...just because that was the only choice they had in treating me. Respect and kindness, nothing else.

I gave us enough space in the car and was thinking of where to get Jamal today when I heard his voice. In a low whisper as though he didn't want anyone to hear what he was about to say to me but me. Well, he didn't want anyone to hear. Because in the whole of this world, no one knew that we weren't as close and happy as we looked in public but ourselves. And Jamal.

"You haven't been going to work, what happened?" One would think that he asked this because he cared about me and would want to know what went wrong with me. But no, he asked because he didn't want the attention of people on me in a way that would affect his name and his politics. So that the enemy party would say he had given me such a high position and then, I'm not being decent enough to show up at work.

"I've been sick." That was all I said, because I believed that would be like a mouth shutter to him. He wouldn't be interested to ask me what was wrong like every father would have been.

And just when he was about to open his mouth, his PA spoke about the lunch he had to take with some governors and they were to move there from now. I scoffed internally and wished for this torture to end. He didn't speak until it was time for me to get out of the car, we were in the Villa already.

"Make sure I don't get such reports again, Zafir." That was all he said, and I gulped down the lump in my throat because that lump was full of all the hurtful things I wished to say to him but somehow controlled myself not to.

I simply opened the door and got out of his car, careful so hard not to bang it close. I could call a driver to take me back to my apartment, but I needed a walk so bad. So, I began walking through the Villa, ignoring all the looks I was getting. I was hardly ever seen, people would've thought I was died unless they saw my picture every Friday with Daddy as that perfect son and father praying together.

As I walked, I thought of how to right some of the wrongs in my life. At least, I knew my life was full of wrongs that I could barely point at a right in it. But Jamal was one of the rights in my life that I would never let be wrong. No matter how messy I get, I knew I'd be fine so long as I have Jamal by my side. He was like a steerer in my life, pointing me to the right directions despite me being so stubborn and mostly ignoring him.

I didn't even enter when I got inside, I just brought my car key and head to the car. I sat in the driver's seat and thought of where to find Jamal in this very Abuja. I didn't hangout with him outside as much as we do in my apartment, hence, I didn't know where to find him if I was looking. But most Fridays, we do hang out at a certain restaurant, and even though it had almost being a year since I agreed to that hangout, because whenever I was back from Friday mosque, I needed to down a bottle because of how much I tolerated Daddy.