It was a busy day, it felt like the sun was angry and was out to melt everything under it, bikes zoomed by, recharge card sellers held their recharge cards in display almost shoving it in Folake’s face as she was taking a stroll out of Shoprite clutching in her hands the ubiquitous gaudy yellow nylon with “Shoprite” boldly printed on it in red colour. She felt a tingling feeling on her hips; it was the vibration of her phone in the pocket of her fitted denim jeans. She fumbled with what she was holding as she was trying to reach for the phone in her pocket and a bottle of coca cola fell from the nylon because it was filled to the brim. Folake hissed and made a wry face, the kind of face she makes when NEPA withdraws the light abruptly while she is ironing or watching a riveting movie. She finally dropped the things she was holding and reached for her phone, she tried to swipe the screen of her iPhone 7 but it was too late. It was a missed call. She put the phone back in her pocket and picked up what she bought in the mall as she moved to the edge of the road in an attempt to wave a taxi to halt. When she saw a taxi approaching her from a distance she felt a frisson of excitement, the thought of finally escaping from the scorch of the sun was cathartic. A black van suddenly reached a screeching halt in front of her and two muscular men hurriedly alighted from the van. One of the men had three tribal marks deeply etched into his cheeks with strands of hair lounging in the deep cut that is popularly referred to as tribal marks. The man with the tribal marks grabbed her from behind and the other man covered her face with a black sack as she was shoved into the van. Her heart started beating irregularly; she was scared and didn’t know what exactly to make of her situation.
Questions amorphously raced through her mind- Was this a kidnap? Who did she offend? Was she mistaken for someone else? Are they ritual killers? Is it because of my sins? She began to recite psalm 23 which she had memorised as a child growing up in a Christian home. Her father was a fulltime pastor so it was one of the many memory verses she had to memorise. Her hands were tied behind her in a very uncomfortable manner which made her shoulders ache intensely. The driver of the van drove fast and slammed on the brakes too often. Anytime the driver stepped on the brake she struggled to keep her balance on the chair. After a drive of about 15minutes the van eventually stopped, her heart started Usain bolting. “Please don’t hurt me!” she whimpered. She was aided to get on her feet. “Don’t worry we won’t hurt you just cooperate with us.” She was escorted into a white mansion. Immediately the door was opened, a cacophonous shout of SURPRISE!!! rented the air and the sack was removed from her face. It was a surprise party, she couldn’t believe her eyes. She had a mixed feeling of surprise, anger, disappointment, relief happiness all at once. She eventually wrinkled her face into an expression that looked like a smile as her friends taunted and hugged her chorusing happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…
The writer would like to make this an interactive story – so what do you think should happen next? Comment below!
