Chapter 1: Far from Home!
….
The cacophony of honking engines filled the air as the automobiles crawled along the bustling roads of Ughelli, Delta state. In Nigeria, this scene was a familiar sight, and most inhabitants had grown accustomed to it.
"Mtcheeew!" The driver hissed for the umpteenth time, frustration evident in the force with which he slammed his hands on the steering wheel, producing yet another loud honking sound.
But despite his efforts, the vehicles remained immobile. They were all stuck in the so-called traffic without having any idea what's really causing the traffic.
"Sir. Please check for cold minerals!" A passenger occupying the back seat requested. He was referring to the Driver who sighed out in frustration.
The middle–aged man brought out his head through the door whose glass had been wounded down already and used his eyes to scrutinize the whole environment.
"Cold Mineral!" He called and at once, a lady rushed up to him with a basin on her head. The basin was filled with different varieties of plastic Soda.
"Cold Fanta, Cold Mirinda!" The woman started advertising and giving out the goods to the Driver who transferred it to whomever was interested in buying.
"Madam! Over here." A passenger beckoned after sliding the glasses. The woman quickly rushed there alongside two other women.
"Gala.. Your sweet Gala.. Gala here!"
"Pure water here.!"
The bus was filled with noises from both the purchasers and the vendors that Malik was forced to unplug his earpiece from his ear. He watched as everyone was ordering and consuming goods in the traffic. The sight was marvelous but what could he do?.
He couldn't join them not because he doesn't have money to purchase them but because today's the first day of Ramadan and as someone who came from a Muslim background, one needs no soothsayer to interpret the fact that he's on fasting.
He was just smiling while watching them have all the fun. "Someone is going to cry on this bus today." He thought while having a mischievous smile on.
Suddenly, the engine roared to life and the Passengers started paying for their goods. One of the female passengers who just purchased a Soda offered the vendor a thousand naira note but before she could collect her change, the Driver zoomed off instantly.
The road was free already and the Driver had grown impatient that he had to sped off without warning.
"Driver! My Change, my change!" She cried out, alarming the driver of his misfortune.
"You don't expect me to go back or do you?" Asked the Driver without leaving his gaze from the road.
The passenger doesn't know what to say. Obviously, it's not the driver's fault. That's the rule of the traffic. Once your front is clear, you move or else it will be overtaken. Her face was buried on the seat right in front of her and Malik could hear her sober .
"It must've been her last card." He thought and shrugged the thought off.
The rest of the journey was completed in silence. Only the munching sound of food and the gulping down of Soda could be heard.
The Driver averted from the main road and drove down the park. He stepped on the brake at a clear spot and turned off the bus engines.
The Conductor slid the door open and jumped down almost immediately.
"Everybody.. Pay your money." The Conductor beckoned, clasping his palm together.
The passengers started paying as they alighted one after the other. When it got to Malik's turn, he offered the Conductor a three thousand naira note instead of the usual one thousand five hundred naira.
The Conductor joy was already building up, he thought Malik had given him some money. He's just at the verge of hailing him when Malik opened up.
"That's for me and the other lady who lost her change to the vendor." He said trying hard not to laugh as the Conductor's expression already transformed while he was making the explanation.
He quickly topped up the money with a five hundred naira note and the conductor's smile returned back instantly.
Malik couldn't help but laugh as he walked away from the bus. His bag strapped to his back with his phone on his left hand.
It seems as if the moon offended the sun on that Monday morning as the latter was not showing any mercy. Malik's throat had already dried up but he dared not jeopardize his fasting. He knew how compulsory this Ramadan was and how important he needed to fast.
He was cladded in a black designer Jean and a white long sleeve shirt. On his neck was wrapped an earpiece and a black face cap to match with his trousers. Also, a white sneaker to match with his white shirt.
He loves wearing his best clothes while traveling and to couple with the fact that this happened to be the first time he's traveling alone. Malik spent a whole day searching for the right outfit and he later ended up with this.
Actually, he didn't spend the whole day on it. His mind was too occupied with the thought of leaving his family. But there's nothing to be done to change the decision of his father. He has made a mistake and he had to learn the hard way.
"Oh God! Why me?" He cried out, recalling how he was a victim of fraud, the event which led to his dad sending him their family friend in Delta state.
"And I predicted it." He said again as his mind trembled as he kept on thinking about it.
He was lost thinking of the 1000 ways he could have saved himself from being a victim but at every end, it occurred to him that it was already late.
"Beep!"
The vibrating sound of the phone jolts him back into consciousness. It was his dad calling. He hesitated for a while before picking up the call and placed it on a loudspeaker.
"Hello Daddy!"
"Where are you?" The voice beckoned from the other end.
Malik gazed up and used his eyes to scrutinize the environment. "I'm at the park, close to the sandfill."
"Stay where you're. I'll inform your Aunt now, she'll come and get you."
"Okay Daddy. Please send. .."
"Oh oh oh!"
He groaned out loudly, using both his legs to stomp the floor after knowing fully well that his Daddy actually hung the call before he could make his request.
He was still thinking about it when someone snatched his phone from his hand.
"Ole! Ole! Ole!"
He cried out and quickly unstrapped his bag and gave it to the lady beside him. Without hesitating, he sprinted after the guy alongside two other boys.
These boys witnessed what happened so they helped Malik in chasing down the phone snatcher while the citizens watched in awe wondering why the boys were running.
Malik kept screaming 'Ole' at the top of his voice as he sprinted after the guy who drifted left ward.
Ole is a Yoruba name for a thief and it's controversial among the citizens of Nigeria. So, Malik is 90% sure that the people in the neighborhood understand his plight. Sadly, they all turned deaf ear.
The guy rushed into the sand fill and as Malik was about to follow suit, one of the other guys stopped him by grabbing his wrist.
"You can't go in there." Said the guy.
"Why so?" Malik asked, his blood boiling up. His breathing was intense but he cared less about it.
"This is the most dangerous zone in this vicinity. Your phone has bid you farewell." Said the second one and at once Malik yanked off his wrist from his grip.
"Thanks for the help. " He said and before they could ponder on his next move, he took off at once trailing after the footprint left behind by the phone snatcher.
"It's suicide." Their cry swooshed past his ears before he took a sharp turn.
He stopped to catch his breath and he bent over, supporting his legs with his hands. Beads of sweat formed an ocean beneath him as he gasped even for air.
Malik hasn't tasted water for the past fifteen hours. Even when he woke up at midnight, he forgot to drink water. He was so exhausted that he might collapse at any moment.
The afternoon breeze whooshed past him and he managed to stand upright. Right before him was an old uncompleted building which emitted a dark aura.
"This is the place. " He said to himself and started approaching the building. His body started reacting funnily as he had a bad feeling about it. The words of the other guy replayed in his head but he was so keen on retrieving his phone that he shrugged it all off and hastened his steps.
Afterall, he's a man and shouldn't show signs of fear.
…..
"Itel p33 plus. What a nice product you get here, Wilson."
"Trust me Virgin Boy, it's worth 20 dollars. " Wilson, the guy who snatched Malik's phone moments earlier, was seen in an uncompleted building with three other guys.
"I also achieved this Ice and this Wristwatch from a pedestrian. I'm sure they'll be worth 10 dollars." Mansi added.
"Surprise. " Virgin Boy dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out a golden necklace and the guys screamed with joy. He went ahead and narrated how he stole the necklace, it's obvious these guys are into picking pockets.
Suddenly, a stone rolled in and the four averted their gaze to the direction with surprise on their face.
"Who's there? Show yourself!" Virgin Boy demanded, folding his fists. Even a blind man will know for sure that a stone can't just roll in on its own if a force is not applied to it.
A male figure came into the scene. He had his left hand on his stomach and the other signaling the guys to calm their nerves.
The figure turned out to be Malik. His white shirt has been soaked with sweat while his black face cap was nowhere to be found.
"Whither wander you?" Asked Virgin Boy and Malik shook his head, pointing to the phone on his grip.
"He's the owner of the P33 plus. " Wilson whispered and the latter nodded.
The four guys bursted into uncontrollable laughter.
"Come and have it." Virgin Boy beckoned, stretching out his right hand with a smirk curved beneath his lower lip.
"Thank you so much." Malik heaved a sigh of relief as he staggered forward to collect the phone.
Mandi stepped a foot forward and as he took another step forward, his leg collided with that of Mansi and the floor rose up against him.
"Thud!"
He crashed heavily on the floor generating another round of laughter.
"Is this guy living in Nigeria?" Asked the other guy as Mansi pulled Malik up by the neck.
"You shouldn't have come here. " He whispered to his ear and his frown widened.
"You shouldn't have stained my white. " He replied as he jabbed Mansi hard with his elbow which caused a loose on his hold. He turned and frantically lodged a blow on his forehead. He caught Wilson by the leg just as he turned, thanks to his acuity. With all his strength, he flinged him leftward and Wilson crashed his body against the wall. The impact caused him to embrace the floor and he passed out at that instant. Virgin Boy couldn't hide his shocking expression, he quickly reached out for a stick.
The third guy made to dive Malik to the floor but the latter was quick to sway left and he dived the floor instead followed by a lame kick.
Before Malik could think of turning to his direction, Virgin raised his makeshift weapon and flogged him hard on the head.
Malik saw stars as he slowly slumped on Wilson's body with his eyelids wounding up.
"Such a tough guy." Virgin Boy muttered, pointing the sharp edge of the stick to his eyes and at once raised it high in order to deliver the blow.