Fansa

Chapter 1

Khadijah,the last of 4 children, of 24 ,was born to Alhaji and Hajia Ramalan Boni.  Her skin radiated class and elegance. Her father was a multimillionaire who provided for every need of his family. He was often said to be spoiling them with too many goodies but he couldn't care less as according to him,

"what's the use of being rich if the kids can't have a feel?" .

He spent the best amount possible to educate them. He flew them outta the country for vacations. They had season tickets at numerous stadiums in the world. Their lives was a fantasy fuelled by the incessant bout of cash from their dad's coffers. That was the end though. He was too busy making money that he forgot his duty as a parent. He equated quality time with family with buying them whatever they need. Their basic emotional needs as children were left to wander like an  orphan,taking shelter in anything that gives them a semblance of respite. They grew up into very irresponsible humans who always want to have their way-Khadijah being no exception.

   When she was young,her attitude to people was a marked departure from that of her elder ones. She taught herself how to behave and respected people. She knelt down in greeting, winning love and attraction from domestic workers in the house. She was a standard used to measure her siblings. Naturally, thus should endear her to her mum but mummy was too busy attending one show/party or the other,trying hard to keep up her "Northern Socialite" tag. She had little or no time for them and had all the time to tour the shops of Florence and Venice, searching for the latest and costliest of jewelries. Khadijah tried to get her mother's attention and affection and failed. She started to travel out,gather experience and built a reservoir of friends who introduced her to that white powdery substance. She got hooked as days turned to years and turned full circle. She went rogue. She was no longer the innocent one. Now,with her father's money incessantly pouring in,she hosted parties on campus.

She was 20 years old when she met Amir at one of those house parties. He came in a Porsche that matched the colour of cloth he wore. He was attraction itself. Even the boys couldn't help but acknowledge his good looks. As he walked over,his perfume did the job of being ahead of his steps. Girls stood up to have a look at this man. His smile was as soothing as a rainfall after drought. His finely shaped and shaved beard gave him this very eccentric look. He looked very UnNigerian. His gaits was measured yet assured. He walked with too much grace and confidence that females most times froze for a  bit when they hear him talk. He walked slowly,nodding in acknowledgment to praise, his right hand in the pocket and waived with the left. When Khadijah saw him coming to where she sat,she felt and prayed for the earth to swallow. She made her mind to get him and make him hers that instant.

"Sorry.." He said,revealing a set of fine white teeth. It was very chiseled and looked artificial. They were expertly arranged on each others that the only difference between his teeth and a piano was the size and colour. Everything was perfect. His voice could send people to sleep. The girl he said sorry to had her mouth opened. She couldn't say anything. Starstruck will be demeaning. He smiled and waved at her. She waved back at him. He beckoned on her to come and she,in as much grace as she could muster, came to where he was standing.

"Hi! " he said.

"Hello! " She replied.

The children of  some Northern Nigerian aristocrats always feel detached from their culture and religion. That foreign exposure gives birth to a new set of value systems alien to the one they grew in. They start to greet in "Hi's" and "Hello's" as they're more "generic". The religious and traditional method of greetings are eroded and thrown in dust bins.

" I'm Amir." He said offering her his hands. When he saw her shock,he withdrew it,thinking that she was "the type" of girl that sees handshakes with men to be bad. The girl was in love with the diamond ball in the Rolex wristwatch he wore. That was all she was looking at.

"Sorry..." She said.

"I...I ....was...erm"

"No problems . All good."

"Thank you.."

"I'm here for Khadijah. I heard she threw this party. I hear she loves her parties. I'm a party animal too. I think we'll do damage together so I'm here to see who she is..."

Without saying anything, she took his hands and led him to where Khadiy was. She felt a tinge of jealousy when she saw his hand in that of another woman. She tried to control herself and prepared herself for what is coming..

"Khadiy,meet Amir. He just came in from Dubai. He said he wants to see you. He said you've been avoiding him and that he brought you a wristwatch. Diamond encrusted. You'll like it I promise. He just showed me."

Amir looked at this girl. He was befuddled. That she came up with  that barrage of lies in a flicker was amazing to him .

"These girls....." He said to himself. "Dirtier than i thought"

He let out a smile and like unexpected rainfall,put that girl at ease and out of her misery. She thought he was going to call her lies out. Amir,a man good at chess,wouldn't want disrupt what he hasn't built. So,he'll pass.

Khadijah stretched out her hands and let out a "Hi". Being around men was second nature for her. That she was being clumsy was something was a first.

" The power and charm he has..."

She thought to herself. There,her resolve was strengthened. Its either she gets him or no one will.

"Both of them will die...and I'll kill myself"...

All these thoughts came in between the moment she stretched her hands and the time he  shook it. She was that smitten.
From that day onwards, they became rather inseparable. None could do without the other. Their love was kindled by a naked desire to be together; it rose in capacity and volumes as their eyeballs meet each other.

Truly,Khadiy's lifestyle was at a  dramatic parallels to what it was. She threw everything and everyone away and went for Amir. This same Amir cheated on her with her best friend. Enemies afar,when they strike, bring only pains and destruction. Enemies at home bring with them a fear that the next person might've paid for your coffin. They destroy beliefs for starters, then the body and inflict injuries, not physical ones, but scars that'll forever remind you of their existence. That was she felt. The pains left her in a spot where she couldn't even talk about it. She was scared...scared that someone will want to stop her. Someone will talk her out of getting her own pound of flesh. Someone will come to " good samaritan " Amir. So she kept it to herself. Members of her immediate family didn't know. Nafisah didn't know. Khadijah looks at her continuously biting the edge of her mouth. The soup of revenge, pot of evil, fire unquenched and smoke of anger was cooking in her being. It was doing well. She was at the" washing the foodstuff " stage. When the food gets ready, she'll serve to them;one after the other. She won't serve it hot. She'll allow the food to get cold,giving them a sense of false security. She'll take their attention for a second and exchange the drumsticks they have on their plates. She'll then get a cozy place, sip in her drink and watch them choke and die on Campylobacter...