BASHIR

(The Central Market)

Drizzling rain pleated the corrugated sheets with resounding echoes, shops extensions were drawn in; wares unable to be brought inside were covered with tarpaulins, young men selling on wheelbarrow huddled together for warmth after securing their goods to a safer place. Peppers and tomatoes seemed to be the only commodity enjoying the rain, as they were laid on trays, water cascading on them.

Orente looked towards the ever busy dual carriage road that demarcated the stalls in the market; the street was forlorn as erosion was tumultuous inside the drainage. Market women never learned, Orente sighed, and she could see them in front of their stalls, with their garbage, disposing it off into the drainage for erosion to sweep it away. Despite all efforts by the government to provide each stall with a waste bin, entreaties and sensitization talks on the harm of flooding the drainage with garbage, the market women of Lalupon will never learn.

Commissioning of the Central market of Lalupon seemed to be a great feat achieved by the past administration, the stalls over 3000, yet the government had cognizance for the petty traders by allowing them to perch round the ultramodern market to sell their wares, thus that’s why one can still see wheelbarrows mobile marketers all about and the indigenous market women constraining themselves in corners as they sell their local commodities of fishes, locust beans, cow skins and so on. 

Orente was put out of her reverie as Mama-Agba her maternal grandmother whom she is spending her vacation with tapped her. ‘The rain has subdued my dear, before we go home; get me some Onions from Ahmed, my favorite Onion seller.’ Orente walked downtown towards Ahmed’s stall to get Mama-Agba’s onion. ‘Kai Orente is it too much cold that is gets into you that made you to be cloak in Mama Agba Asooke? (Blanket) Ahmed exclaimed when he saw Orente swaddled in a comfy blanket. She smiled brightly, conversing with Ahmed, imploring him to add extras to her onions because that is why he is Mama-Agba favorite Onion seller.

My friend Bashir, I will soon be with you please, Ahmed said to a stranger standing beside him. Oblivious of the stranger’s presence at first, Orente looked up to see a lanky, fair complexion man with a curly jet black hair, impeccably dress in neat trouser and t-shirt. Caught ogling, she quickly dropped her eyes, cheeks pinking up. The stranger smiled warmly, Orente almost swoon as pearly white teeth were revealed as well as dimples; finishing with her business, she quietly made her way back to Mama-Agba’s stall waving at Ahmed. She could however feel the stranger’s stare on her back. She could not help but think about him also, her heart skipping beats as she maneuvered her way back, praying silently not to trip due to the stranger’s stare and the sloppy road caused by the rain.

Ahmed noticing his friend’s attention towards Orente, put his hand on Bashir’s shoulder, warning him his with eyes not to pursue it further. He however shrugged nonchalantly as smiled; thinking ‘as if I can.’ Ahmed asked when he is going back, he answered ‘few weeks- time.’

(Dream)

Staring at each other with longing eyes, smiles on their faces, hands entwined, they drew closer to share something intimate…..Orente! Orente!! Scampering out of bed, Orente landed with a thud on her butt. She swore loudly. ‘Mama Agba I am coming’ she said. Making her way to the Foyer, Mama Agba bemoaned ‘you woke up late again Orente, hurry up, so as not to be late for the Morning Mass.’ Orente sighed has she made her way back to her room to get dressed.

***************

For the umpteenth time, Orente stared at her wristwatch, Mama Agba backhand her from behind for her to concentrate. If only Mama-Agba knew, how she wished the morning mass to have ended, for her to be back in the house for her to beginning day-dreaming about the object of her fantasy; the stranger called Bashir.

*******************

He tossed on the bed, unable to get some sleep any longer, Bashir made his way out of his bedroom to get a cool glass of water to quench his parched throat.

Ever since three months ago he has moved to the neighborhood, he was hardly home; the apartment seemed to be his abode when he wants time for himself, though expensively furnished, nothing personal, except two abstracts paintings on the wall. Back to his un-calmed nerves, he wonders why, not as if his impending assignment is making him jittery. He is a pro at what he does, nothing to worry about, images of a young smiling girl flashed through his mind, throbbing his heart with a ache, then he realized she was the one making him uneasy. Realizing this, he started perspiring, ‘this is not good’, he said, his type is not allowed to have frivolous emotions, as it is too dangerous, it is seen as a sign of weakness.

In his prime of 29 years, he has needs which he caters for by hitting the club for the purpose of one night stands as he doesn’t take alcohol. Getting women to warm his bed is not the problem; good looks were on his side. Being a half caste, he gets his good looks from his Lebanese mom and his aura of Charisma from his Nigerian Dad. Back to his conflicting emotions, he believed his mom must have loved his Dad once, maybe before he was born as the couple met in Lebanon where his Dad went to further his studies. His mom believed she was deceptively betrayed as the further study his Dad was into was weapons and arms mastery. By the time her mom realized this truth, she was already pregnant.

His Dad, now a kingpin of conglomerates of kidnappers in Nigeria, he was sent to Lebanon then by his sponsors to be skilled in the way of weapons. There he met his mom and fell in love, but being who he is, he took duty first over love, and convinced his mother to move to Nigeria with him to raise the family. Not being cut off for the Mafia kind of life, his mom after trying her best to convince his Dad to retire from his ways but to no avail, sadly went back to Lebanon. Thanks to his Dad though, he allowed him to school in Lebanon with his mom, and at fourteen he withdrew him back home to indoctrinate him into his ways of life. Though he still visit Lebanon to see him mom, and in fact he was subsequently schooled in Lebanon just like his Dad for the mastery of weapons. His Dad made him realize that though he was in love once, but it was a mistake that women are to be seen as a necessary part of their existence and nothing more. Resolute, he made up his mind not to explore further his intriguing emotions about the young Orente, but to discards it, as it would only bring nothing but harm to her, and weakness for him.

(Two souls)

We meet again! Orente said shyly but with an excited countenance. Bashir almost groan loudly. Ahmed looked at the duo with bemused expression. Not that they actually met by coincidence this time around. Orente unable to keep her fantasy to her day dreams any longer has walked up to Ahmed stall to have a chit-chat with him. Ahmed though reluctant to disclose anything about his friend Bashir, made it known to Orente that he is off limit, as he is not cut out for teenage struck infatuation. Slightly offended, Orente doesn’t let it deter her from asking when Bashir is likely to visit him next. Ahmed shrugged and said next week. Hearing this, Orente has been going back and forth the downtown part of the market, spying on Ahmed stall to see when Bashir will visit. Upon sighting him this day, Orente has quickly took some money to get onions under the guise of Mama-Agba errands.

Seeing Orente again almost undone Bashir’s resolute, as her innocent and alluring eyes were captivating. Bashir returned her greetings politely. After finishing her business with Ahmed, Orente lingers behind to catch the attention of Bashir. Unable to take the awkward situation any longer, Bashir sighed and took hold of Orente’s hand not too gently.

Looking up, Orente saw the tickling of his jaw and realizing his firm grip on her hand became regrettably scared of her actions, tears pooled in her eyes, thinking she must have offended Bashir. Ahmed looking at the pair, put his hand on Bashir, guilt and remorse filled him as he realized he must have hurt the innocent girl. He quickly releases his hand from hers. Trying to scamper away from the scene, Bashir called out painfully to Orente, trying to hold her hands in other to explain that it is not his intent to hurt her. Orente looked at him with tears in her eyes, this time; he took her hands gently and suggested they go to a more conducive place to discuss. 

Agreeing on a fast food restaurant near Ahmed’s stall, they took their seats while Bashir asked what she would like to take, she politely declined. However he pleaded with innocent puppy eyes, unable to resist, she smiled and they ordered for soft drinks.

Thinking on how to let the girl down gently, Bashir took hold of her hands gently and said. ‘Orente, you don’t deserve someone like me because you are so full of life and you are a very beautiful girl to behold. I cannot be the ideal man for you due to some reasons.’ He tried telling her further that there is no likely or possible future between them. Orente sighed, tears streaming down her eyes; she nodded her head in understanding. 

Unable to bear the hurt she is passing through any longer, Bashir gathered her in his embrace. He was not prepared for what hit him. Her fragrance clouded him as her body molded perfectly into his. Quite oblivious to where they were again, Orente felt at bliss even if it was temporal as she nestled in the cocoon of his embrace her tears drying up. Bashir although finding it difficult to restrain his member, finds it quite euphoria to be enveloped in such a beautiful sensation. He stops to wonder what it would actually be like to let go of what he strongly believes in, and embrace this new feelings Orente is erupting in him.

Both now realizing their awkward positions, let go of each other, Orente blushing profusely, trying to apologize for her breakdown. Easing the tension of the atmosphere, Bashir took hold of her hands once again and told her to let them discuss something else.

Bashir looked on with interest, thinking of what if he leave behind all what he was brought up with and start a new life with Orente. He couldn’t deny that there’s a sizzling connection between them, beyond sexual escapade. She is like a blooming flower which he has the urge to protect and claimed her as his. He realized he has fall for her. Looking on with all amusement and interest as she talked animatedly about her family, he realized that he wishes to spend the rest of his life with her, for the first time in a while, he allowed a surge of emotions flood through him as he embrace the new feelings of having someone who actually cared for him and he whom he cared for too. Though feeling scared of his new decision, but seeing the beauty in front of him, he became resolute to ask his father to release him from his duties after the mission already assigned to him has been done. He knew his father would not object to his retirement as he has hinted such to him before even before he met Orente thinking of going back to Lebanon to his mom to start afresh and his father has promised him that by the age of 30 he will retire him for him to have a life of his on. Feeling a bit self-conscious, Orente peered into his eyes; asking him why he is staring at her. He smiled broadly and whispered ‘I must have fallen for you.’ Awash with the realization of what he has done, he told her that he is willing to give a relationship a try with her. Elated she hugged him tightly. They couldn’t contain their excitement as they departed that day. They made subsequent plans to meet the next day at Bashir’s apartment to get to know more about each other. Bashir though a bit reserved and scared of what the future would holds for them and whether Orente would accept him as who he really he is.

(Knowing the Truth)



Luck was on Orente’s side as the next day was the day scheduled for Mama-Agba to go for her monthly trader’s meeting; thereby leaving Orente at home. After breakfast that morning, she bade Mama-Agba farewell and ran up to her room to get dressed for her visit to Bashir’s apartment. She made sure; she doesn’t overdress, but ensured she dressed captivatingly. 

Bashir sat on his recliner chair, facing the window side, in a pensive mood, lost in thought. Thinking about his life, how his hands were full of innocent bloods. Before he met Orente, he doesn’t think twice about those things as he was trained not to have emotions, he has lived his life as a robot, not feeling other people’s pain, even has his victims screamed for mercy and pleads, he doesn’t have any feelings, not that he doesn’t want to, but the way he was trained has deadened all sort of feelings in him. If his victim does not want to cooperate, he shoots them without thinking twice, as he doesn’t know what is called human feelings.

Seeing Orente struggling with her hair has she highlighted from the cab brought smile to his face. Even for her alone, due to the light she has brought into his life, he became determined to leave the way he was brought up with and embraced a new life with her. Hopefully she will accept his past and build a new future with him.

Before she could knock on the door, he has opened the door, as he has calculated her steps to his door. Looking at each other bashfully, Orente ran into him and hugged Bashir tightly. Sighing blissfully, Bashir could not believe what fate has brought his way. Staring at each other with longing eyes, smiles on their faces, they drew closer to share something intimate. Just like her dream, Orente reveled as their tongues met each other; it was honey-suckled sensation as something deep settled beneath her. Their tongues meshed together in synchronization as their bodies melded together perfectly. Orente moan was what brought them back to earth. Aware of their position, Bashir excused himself to tidy up while he ushered Orente into his living room.

Hours later, having exhausted some movies, Bashir became silent; Orente prodded him on what is on his mind. He faced her, holding her hands gently, looked into her eyes, he revealed all about himself to her, how he was trained from a young age to wield guns and his indoctrination into his father’s kidnapping business. So shocked, Orente struggled to gasps for air, she withdrew her hands and scampered away from his presence. Pained by her expression, he allowed her to have some space for herself. Orente eyes pooled with tears, dumbfounded, she realized what she must have gotten herself into. However she couldn’t deny the feelings she has for Bashir. After a while, she came closer to him, he was quite relieved for her acceptance of his past. She however beseeched him not to go for the last assignment as they can elope together. 

Smiling sadly, Bashir explained to her that his Dad is not so lenient, as it is against their ethics to abandon an assigned project. His father would hunt him down to the end of the world for it and if he realized it is because of a woman, she would be prone to danger has his father might use his weakness which is her against him.

With gloomy ambience they departed that day with the promise that very soon, Bashir would be free from the shackles of his father, after carrying on his last assigned assignment. 

The end

Orente could not sleep well, as tomorrow would be the day Bashir will depart for his last assignment, as early as dawn of the day; she sneaked out of Mama-Agba’s house to pay visit to him before his departure. Both too emotional and wishing for sustainability to hold onto allowed themselves to be flooded by the passion that engulfed them. 

Later in Bashir’s bed, both cuddled together, Bashir avowed to come back for her as soon as possible as he placed a reassuring kiss on her forehead.

**************

One month later, as Mama-Agba and Orente were watching the evening news, headlines read that some gang of notorious kidnappers in the country were caught up with and arrested, while one escaped though he suffered a gunshot. Heart in her throat, Orente managed to excuse her-self to the restroom where she wrenched out her gut. Cleaning up, Mama-Agba helped her to bed, oblivious of her quagmire, thinking she might have caught the flu.

Tears streaming down her eyes, she placed her hand on her stomach in anxiety for her little one as she knew she was already pregnant with Bashir’s baby having missed her period. The future seemed bleak for Orente, even though she knew in her gut that it was Bashir who managed to escaped. Sending prayers above for his safety and recovery, she hoped he return one-day for her and their little one.