Now that he thought of it, he had never, not even once, thought of the way his death would happen. I mean, he had considered killing himself once or twice, even wondered which was worse between taking poison or drowning , but his imagination had never gone this far.
He stared helplessly into the muzzle of the gun pointed at him, its owner’s hand quite steady, about to shoot.
“Please,” he begged, but he knew it was no use, he knew too much already; he was surely going to die. “I swear I won’t tell anybody.”
The killer just shook her head in a pitiful way, as if to say, “I am sorry, I don’t want to do this, but I have to,” and then she squeezed the trigger.
He saw the bullet leave the gun and instantly he felt lighter and peaceful like he was suddenly free of all the pain, aches and troubles he had faced these past few years. Who would have ever thought death could be so blissful.
The Adibua Family
Mr. Adibua is probably the fattest man you can find within a three mile radius, and he was also the richest. He was a handsome man with a love for business. It was often rumored that he had made a lot of sacrifices to get to where he was now, some of them involving blood, and the exchange of unspeakable things.
Sacrifices or not, however, the one obvious thing about him was that he intended to stay rich, at all costs.
He woke up that early Saturday morning, and put on the television. He skipped through the channel four news where a reporter stood beside a university school gate, reporting live about the school situation.
“Strike, strike, strike,” he said to himself angrily, as the rather disheveled looking lady recited. “I cannot wait for Somto to get out of this country.”
Somto was his first son. He was just as handsome as his father, but not as fat, and he was also quite tall. He had been studying medicine for quite some time, four years to be exact and he was still in his second year due to the continuous strike that was becoming more frequent in the Nigerian universities these days.
That was why Mr. Adibua had decided he should quit school and prepare to travel to Europe where he could complete his medical education.
He changed the channel once more, and paused at the business news channel.
“Large business owners are losing big,” said the reporter. “Small business owners are forced to close down their businesses as stocks keep crashing by the day. Large businesses like Okaka Oil and Givenco pharmaceuticals are forming alliances, which seems to be the only reasonable solution considering the dwindling economy.”
Mr. Adibua listened carefully as the reporter kept reading and then considered returning Mr. Ikeji’s call.
Mr. Ikeji was a fellow businessman just like himself, and he was just as rich.
Mr. Adibua remembered seeing him a few weeks back at a gathering, and the conversation that had taken place.
“And I know your son and my daughter used to be very close,” Mr. Ikeji had said over a shot of tequila. “We can set them up together, that way we can officially merge names and businesses together.”
Of course, then Mr. Adibua thought this was a stupid idea but listening to this bit of news right now, he was having a change of mind.
Mr. Adibua snapped back to reality as his wife came to the parlor with a covered plate of food.
“Are you hungry? I made your breakfast just as the doctor suggested.” She dropped the plate of food on a stool in front of him, and left.
“Thank you dear,” Mr. Adibua said, but his mind wasn’t on the food just yet. “Somto! Somto!”
Somto turned as he heard his father call him, but the sleep was just too sweet to abandon. He decided to ignore his father in the hopes that he would stop calling, but it only grew louder.
“Somto, will you wake up. Somto!”
This time Mrs. Adibua went into the room to wake him up herself.
“Your father is calling you,” she told him. “Get up quickly, it’s very early in the morning; I don’t want him to wake up the neighbors with his loud voice. Quickly get up.”
Grumpily Somto got out of bed. He eyed his brother with whom he shared the room and the bed with ever since their mansion was currently undergoing renovation, and hissed.
“Every time, I can’t just rest for one minute,” he muttered as he put on a shirt, and went to the parlor where Mr. Adibua was seated.
“Yes sit down I want to talk to you.” Said Mr. Adibua, finally deciding to open the food, and eat when he realized what was in it. He was outraged. “Nne, am I a goat, what is this?”
Mrs. Adibua came running into the parlor.
“Nne what is this?” Mr. Adibua asked again, as he picked the lettuces and cabbages and collard greens in disgust. “Where is the meat or chicken, where is the left over pork from yesterday?”
“You know what the doctor said about your holestarin level,” said Mrs. Adibua defensively.
“Cholesterol mum,” replied Somto tiredly, he shook his head. “How hard is it to pronounce?” This was obviously not the first time he had corrected her about this.
“Shut your trap,” she retorted. “That is why we are sending you to medical school so you know all these things, and we don’t have…”
“Nne I said where is the meat?” Mr. Adibua cut in, pushing the plate away.
“Somto you better talk to your father,” Mrs. Adibua said, as she brought the food closer. “So he can be healthy and live long enough and attend your graduation and marriage. There is only so little I can do.”
“Fidelis,” cried Mr. Adibua, ignoring his wife who left him and went to get dressed for work. “Fidelis!”
Somto smiled, for he was happy that he wasn’t the only one going to be losing sleep. “Fidelis!” Mr. Adibua shouted again, and then he turned to Somto. “Is your brother still sleeping. Fidelis! Or he did not come back home again!”
“He is sleeping,” said Somto eagerly. “Should I go and wake him up.”
“Fidelis!” yelled Mr. Adibua once more.
There was a sigh, and the sound of something hitting the wall as Fidelis flung his phone angrily at it. Somto chuckled as Fidelis came out of the room, looking really angry as he scratched his bare chest.
“Daddy what is it?” Fidelis asked, frowning. “Can’t I sleep in peace in this house?”
“Thunder fire you there idiot,” retorted Mr. Adibua. “Can’t you sleep? Sleep what, when I was your age, by this time I was already selling bread to people. Come on go to my top drawer, there is some money there, go and buy me roasted chicken from down the street, they should be opened by now.”
“Daddy you heard what the doctor said about your cholesterol level,”
“Shut the fuck up,” interrupted Fidelis. “Just because you’re in medical school doesn’t mean the whole world should stop for you.”
“Are you high?” Somto replied. “I will slap the hell out of you if you talk to me anyhow.”
“I’m over here come and try it.”
“Hey will two of you behave yourselves,” cried Mr. Adibua. “Fidelis go and wear something and buy me what I asked you to buy now.”
“Daddy you better talk to him.” Said Somto angrily as Fidelis walked out of the room. “I will kill him in this house.”
“You should be used to all this by now,” said Mr. Adibua. “He is your younger brother, if he doesn’t annoy you like that who else will. Anyway, that’s not why I called you here.”
“I hope there’s no problem,” said Somto.
“No, of course not,” replied Mr. Adibua. “Must there be problem before I call my son to have a chat with him.”
Somto nodded uncertainly. “Daddy what is it?”
Mr. Adibua giggled a bit, which only made Somto the more apprehensive.
“When last did you see Ifeyinwa?”
Somto automatically knew where this was going, but he decided to play dumb.
“Ifeyinwa – Ifeyinwa… I can’t remember, who is she?”
“Don’t you remember Ifeyinwa,” said Mr. Adibua. “They used to be our neighbors before we moved, remember. Her mother used to be very fat and the father was thin.”
“Oh, Ifeyinwa,” said Somto, deciding there was no use prolonging the inevitable. “Yes I remember, what happened to her?”
“Er, nothing much,” said Mr. Adibua. He managed to pick a few cabbages and chewed them with disgust. “She just returned from the US, she’s a graduate now, and the family wants us to meet again.”
“I see,” said Somto. “Why?”
“You know catch up on old times,” said Mr. Adibua. “Nothing serious, except,” Mr. Adibua grinned as he spoke. “you see the daughter and maybe you like her, we won’t mind.”
That was one of the problems Somto had with his father. He could be very blunt and direct. He had suffered embarrassment on several dates because of this.
“You better not be thinking of having sex in my house,” he would say whenever Somto brought back any of his school mates home. “I mean it, protected or not, I will not have it in this house.”
“I don’t understand,” said Somto.
“Are you a child?” asked Mr. Adibua, impatiently. “You will be travelling very soon and by the time you come back all the nice girls would have been taken. All I’m saying is that you should secure one good girl before you go.”
“I am serious,” Mr. Adibua said. “If you go and bring back a white girl into this house, so help me God your mother and I will butcher you alive.”
Mrs. Adibua walked in just then
“I’m off to work,’ she said, rummaging for something in her bag. “And I had to fire one of the construction workers at the house.”
“Again!” chorused Mr. Adibua and Somto.
“Yes of course,” replied Mrs. Adibua. “I overhead him complaining to the contractor on how cheap you are, what an insult, I won’t have that.”
“At this rate,” said Mr. Adibua. “It’ll be a miracle if the house gets fully renovated. I have told you leave the contractors to me, I can handle them.”
“Okay I have heard you,” said Mrs. Adibua, rolling her eyes. “I am off.”
Both men shook their heads as she left.
“So can I go now?” asked Somto, eager to go back to bed,
“Yes you can,” answered Mr. Adibua. “Just keep what I’ve just told you in mind. You’re not getting any younger you know.”
“Yes dad,” he answered, getting up to leave, and then in undertones, he said, “I’m just twenty, chill.”
“They will be visiting tomorrow,” shouted Mr. Adibua as though he just remembered, but Somto was already on the bed, trying to get his best position. “Where the hell is Fidelis?”
Somto turned his head, sure enough Fidelis was still sleeping, the money held tightly in his hand.
“Daddy he is still sleeping,” shouted Somto, causing Fidelis to spring up from the bed.
“What?” roared Mr. Adibua, getting up from the chair.
Fidelis quickly grabbed his slippers and dashed out the door, narrowly missing Mr. Adibua’s heavy punch.
We started acting this out on my youtube channel (Olsnetwork) to promote the book sales, but time wasn’t on our side. please let me know what ya’ll think, and where you stopped reading.