UNDER 168 HOURS [BOOK 1, 168 HOURS SERIES]

Chapter 3: A Dreadly Trap

10:01 p.m

Humaira dropped from the taxi and handed the driver #500 note. The situation of meeting a married man in an hotel, alone at night frightened her. With hopes that he doesn't harm her in anyway, she closed her eyes and made a silent prayer before proceeding.

"Astagfirullahi ladzi laa ghaffara illahuwa, walla ghafurra illahuwa,  walla tawwaba illahuwa."

(I seek forgiveness from Allah whom there is no forgiver except Him; no one is forgiving except Him; and no one accepts repentance except Him).

Just then, she saw him buying suya (spicy meat skewer) opposite the road. He signalled her to wait, then he crossed over.

"Humaira baby, Aisha kenan!" He wanted to touch her face but she flinched his hand off with disgust. "So you came alone, right?"

(Alhaji Musa has, been calling her Aisha ever since she was a baby. It was like a pet name he gave her.)

"Yes Alhaji, good evening sir." She greeted, timidly looking down. She could feel the sound of her heart, racing inside her ribcage. "I only came here for the money sir."

Alhaji Musa noticed her shyness and busted out into laughter as if she just cracked a joke. He always wanted to have her like he had been doing to other girls; mostly prostitutes. And now, this was his only chance.

"Okay, let's go in then… To get the money." He led her through the gates as they walked into the presidential suit.

It is said that Nicon Luxury, Abuja is one of the top 5 hotels in the whole of West Africa. To other girls, it would be a dream or an achievement but to Humaira, it was Hell! All she needed was the money and nothing else. She wondered why he wouldn't just hand it to her somewhere else, but she followed him. The artificial waterfall pouring from the mouth of a golden status caught her attention. Shivering into the room he booked earlier that day. The atmosphere changed once she stepped into the building. The hotel was air conditioned and well furnished, with a CCTV displaying at each corner of the building. Humaira followed him silently, humming her silent prayers.

ROOM 168.

Immediately her eyes struck the number at the door, it reminded her of her dying mother, and everything single second counts.

"Come in." Alhaji ordered with a gently smile.

She bowed and took in an heavy breath before entering.

Taking a step into the room and it felt  like paradise. The one she had never seen or dreamt of entering. It was extremely decorated with lights, flowers and clear glass tiles that illuminated the room. It still meant nothing to poor Humaira.

Her mind and body felt tormented as she stopped by the door step. A feel of guilt rushed through her as her eyes glanced up, at the expensive chandelier.

"Now we're here. Please sir, hand me the money so I can save my mother
before its too late… You might be having years to live but my mother is only having hours." She cried, still standing by the door.

Even when she spoke with so much courage, her voice sounded so faint and shaky.

"Hahahahaaaaa!" Alhaji Musa laughed at her nervousness. "We haven't even entered yet and you want the money? Who does that?"

He placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to sit on the large, master-sized bed. It felt so soft and cozy.

"Don't worry my dear, I'll take care of you tonight. You've been through enough already and I promise to help you. I know you've been avoiding me… Perhaps, Why did you send immature Zee to my office instead of coming yourself?"

"I was busy with something…"

"What is more important to you than me? Nothing! Don't worry, just lie back and calm down. You're the reason why I booked here you know? Just for you, only for you…." He joked stupidly. "Interested in Suya?" He offered.

"No…" She replied in shallow breaths.

Humaira sat at the edge of the bed, speechless and frustrated. She wasn't comfortable with his presence and words in that room, alone. As if she couldn't breath, Humaira saw herself sitting on top of a very slim wall and might soon fall. She swallowed in calming breaths and controlled her heartbeats.

Definitely, they are lies. She knew he never cared for her and her family. He betrayed her father after all, but she didn't say anything about it. Humaira knew that getting him angry could make him change his mind and that wouldn't go well. So she kept shut, staring quietly like a stray cat in need for shelter.

Alhaji Musa strolled to the wardrobe and brought out a black, shiny suitcase.

"So…. Here it is, baby doll." He placed the suitcase in front of her and opened it.

"One million naira for you!"

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Author's Note

Words Count: 783

How did you think the story is going? What do you think of Humaira S. Ahmad?  If you were in her shoes, would you do the same?

If you read this... Leave a comment no matter how little. Let's have an interesting chapter...

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Words and Translations

-kenan : Mine or My

-suya: Spicy meat skewer, usually wrapped in newspapers or brown envelopes, sold along the streets in Nigeria, but, only at night.

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Enjoy reading  and please, don't forget to press the tiny orange star ★ at the end of each chapter to notify me you've actually read it… So! What are we waiting fo?! Continue reading this story of family, adventure, mystery, and plot twists, and also, don't forget to comment.