Hard Man

47a

"How did it get this bad, Chioma? Can you let me talk to you for a few minutes? Let me explain."
    — General Babalola

"You will not find your mother and her assistant at home. If you want to see them, get into the car."
    — MG Damola

"I don't think we should release her, sir. This woman is dangerous."
    — Mohammed

Babalola was in so much pain —much more than he thought he could ever bear. In his thirty-two years of life, he has gone through some of the most unimaginable physical pain a person could experience, yet this emotional pain was worse, somehow.

From their ride to Ore, Des didn't speak to him. So many times, he attempted to talk to her, but she blatantly shunned him. He would have preferred if she yelled and told him to leave her alone. But she didn't. She just kept mute.

They finally arrived home and as the car pulled into the compound, Des hurried out before it fully stopped. Babalola's first instinct was to chase after her, but instead, he watched her go into the house, his heart slowly beating in his chest.

Damola cleared his throat and asked, "What will you do?"

Babalola didn't look away until Des stormed into the house and slammed the front door shut. Then, he turned to his friend. 

"I'll go after her and tell her everything. She's still mad at me because of Tife and probably because I insisted that she go to Ore, but I—"

Damola narrowed his eyes. "Baba, let me jog your memory a bit," he said. "Firstly, you didn't insist that she go to Ore; you forced her to."

"What?"

"Yes." Damola nodded. "And then you seized her phone and gave her a new one without warning."

Babalola couldn't believe what Damola was saying. Damola was making it look like he was entirely at fault, and that wasn't the case.

"Damola, you were there! You saw everything that happened and why I did what I did."

"Right intentions, but poor execution. And she's not just mad at you because you forced her to go to Ore; she's mad because you indirectly told you she wasn't worthy of you."

Babalola's eyes flashed. "I never said that."

"You did." Damola pursed his lips.

Babalola shook his head. "Don't piss me off, Damola. You know, everything I did was to protect her. I did what I could do. When it's your turn, you'll know how it feels."

Damola laughed. "It can never be me. But let's not digress. The situation is now beyond forcing her to go to Ore or Tife. How do you tell her about her mother? And father?"

Without responding to Damola, Babalola pushed the door open and alighted the car. That's when he saw Mohammed and Dele. He had so much on his mind that he had forgotten that he now had a new responsibility in Dele.

"Mohammed," he called. "Take Dele upstairs and make him comfortable."

"Yes, sir!"

He turned away from them and walked towards the house, practicing how he would tell Chioma everything. He met Tife standing in the living room, at the base of the stairway,  and his heart skipped. Did Chioma see her on her way in?

"What are you doing here?" He asked, struggling to rein in his anger. He had so much pain and fury inside him, and because he couldn't direct it at Chioma, he was dying to direct it at anyone else, but he had more pressing matters on his mind than to blow up at Tife.

Tife's eyes widened at his tone, and she started to explain. "I—I—but I—"

"Aren't you supposed to be at the holding facility?" Babalola cut her off.