Mr Bahati came home early from work today. ill news of his son's collapse had reached his office and his superiors were kind enough to understand his plight.
He sat by the bedside and stroked young Kareem's head. There was no one else in the room except Derek who offered to watch over Kareem.
"Derek, Do you know the meaning of our surname 'Bahiti'" Mr Bahati turned to ask.
"No sir, i don't," Derek could feel the man was getting emotional and a story was soon to spring up.
"It means fortune. I know, it's quite ironic," He gave a sarcastic laugh.
Things did not use to be this way for the Bahiti's, at least there were much better during the time of earlier generations and only got worst in the long run. Mr Bahiti came from an ancestry that was recognized as being blessed by the heavens so much that the family name came to mean literally 'Fortune'. But after the first and second generations, things started to decline. The name Bahiti felt more like a mockery.
Mr Bahiti remembered that from a very young age, his mother always taught him to be kind. She would even ensure he and his siblings participated in one or two community activities. She told her children that the kindness now will ensure the prosperity of future generations. But things did not get better. Although there were times the situation of the family seemed to rise, it only became worse later.
Mr Bahiti was from a very extended family but he and a stepbrother of his are all that was left. The curse of death of different members mostly happened mysteriously. Barely anyone reached the ripeness of old age. To be sincere he had thought of committing suicide many times but just couldn't bring himself to do it.
He had concluded all hope in the world was lost when he finally got a scholarship he had strived for, for years. He was very happy, this for him was a miracle. At last, those good deeds his mother ensured were starting to yield fruits. He soon got into the police force and climbed fast through the ranks. His superiors referred to him as a 'Fortune' to the force. He soon fell in love and got married.
But fate and her bad hand had not enjoyed to its fill the blows to Mr Bahati's life. Mrs Bahati has so far given birth to three children but only Kareem survived so far. The first one died the day she gave birth to him. The doctor said the child was too weak. The second child died in a car accident at the age of six. And now Kareem was having issues too.
But all this did not harden Mr Bahiti's heart. He was still a kind man. The doctrines input by his mother had become standards he lived by. He always felt that if he did more good maybe just maybe things would turn around for the better. Besides, it worked before.
Mr Bahiti held his son's hand and wept bitterly. Derek wanted to give them some space but Mr Bahiti insisted he stayed. Derek looked at the father and son. He could imagine the suffering Mr Bahiti had gone through. He must have worked extra hard to be where he was and own what he had. This man did not own a lot but he was willing to share his little. It could be seen by how he took in four total strangers to render help.
Derek had always wondered what it would be like to have a father. He wondered if his own father was like this. That is if he still existed somewhere in the world. But the thought was only fleeting at best. He did not know what feelings to have for his parents. He never met them. He was four when he was left at the orphanage. There was no way he could remember their faces even if he wanted to.
After a few minutes, Mr Bahiti was so consumed by his emotions that he decided to excuse himself from the room. It would be embarrassing for him if his son woke up and saw this ever strong and confident policeman in tears.
Derek stayed back to look after Kareem, but his eyes were not on the boy on the bed but the one sitting at the side in the room.
"Kareem is that you!?" Derek inquired.
"You can see me? The weeping boy lifted his head from between his legs and stared at derek in surprise.
Derek was even more surprised. What the heck was going on?
Kareem stood up and walked to him.
Now that Derek took a proper look, this Kareem looked 'different'. There was a faint gold string from his chest connecting him to the Kareem on the bed. And also, he looked a bit ethereal. Derek could swear that if he looked close enough, he could see through this boy. There was the shadow of black mist coming from his back. The usual Derek would have screamed in fear and panic, but he had gone through a lot this past week and it had toughed his heart a little.
"What happened to you? Are you dead?" Derek tried to touch him but like mist, his hands just went through.
"No, am not. How can you see me?"
"I don't know." The both of them looked at each other confused about the other.
Derek explained that he could see him all the while as he cried at the corner of the room. And asked what was truly going on?
Kareem thought for a while and decided it was not such a bad idea to tell Derek. so the 'ghost' Kareem went back into his body and sat upright on the bed.
It turned out that Kareem was not human well he was, but was not also. He was more of a debt collector and the fee was the happiness of the Bahiti family. This debt had a very distant past.
The first man to call himself Bahiti of the family was known as a very rich and influential man, but he had not always been prosperous. He was once a poor man. Just another head in the endless sea of many. Nothing was especially catchy about him but he had honest work and found himself falling in love with a beautiful girl. But her father was against their union and married her off instead to be the eighth wife of a wealthy man. This broke his heart and mind. It made him frustrated by his poverty and so, he sought ways to make more money. But nothing was working out well for him.
One day, He met a friend he had known during his childhood. This friend was also born in poverty and had done odd jobs together for many years. But by some stroke of luck, he was now a wealthy man. He asked him how he did it but his friend did not want to tell him. After being disturbed regularly, he finally relented and told his secret. This friend had been introduced to a cult that worshipped a spirit being. It was from this cult that he got his riches.
After contemplating a while, the first Bahiti decided to join this cult. He got what he wanted. He became a wealthy man. Wealthy enough to even ask back for the woman he loved. But a price was to be paid for such wealth, as it is the tradition of commerce. 'One is given to acquire the other'. And the dept to pay was the ever happiness of the Bahiti bloodline. His future generations would pay for him until the last child. The first Bahiti did not care at the time. Honestly, who would? It was a price to be paid in the distant future.
Kareem was a servant of the said spirit being. He had already come to this world twice before as his two elder brothers. This was his third time. Ideally, he was supposed to be dead already, both this boy had suddenly had a change of heart after staying so long in this family. The way of life of the Bahitis had touched him deeply. He had come to love this man and woman as his own parents and it broke his heart to hurt them any further.
Derek could not believe what he just heard. He stared at this seemingly innocent boy for some time and was speechless for words. It took him time before he finally said what was on his mind, "So, how does this end? How can the Bahiti family be free from this debt?"
Kareem held his head in taught for a while before giving a reply. "A new deal can be a stroke but it will affect the latter generations again. Except of cause, if 'He' willingly breaks the contract by himself."
"Do your parents know all this?"
Kareem shook his head in reply.
"Kareem listen to me. You have to tell them they have a right to know. Do you understand?"
"I know, but if I do there'll die."