Tarasha - Chapter 61

Tarasha stood transfixed, temporarily unable to utter any

word or move from the spot. The knife in her left hand

fell off and blood began to drip down to the floor.

‘Omotara’ Henry called softly as he proceeded forward.

‘We need to talk’

His phone rang out, disrupting the moment. He quickly

took it out and silenced it without checking the caller’s

ID.

‘Jeffery’ Tarasha’s lips moved repeatedly. The colours in

her eyes were changing, it looked like she wanted to cry

but there was no tears formed in the eyes. ‘Where did

you see him?’ Tarasha asked calmly. She released the

knife in her right hand to the ground.

Henry’s gaze moved away from her. He took a quick

glance at the window at the balcony of the house,

someone was opening the curtain to peep. ‘Let’s sit

somewhere and talk’

Tarasha inhaled deeply and walked back to the car , she

entered back into the front seat she was before. Henry

followed her slowly. His phone rang again, he checked

the screen this time, it was Agent Dakolo calling. He

silenced it again and dipped it into his pocket. He entered

and sat in the driver’s seat.

He looked at Tarasha’s face, she seemed not to have

noticed that he was now in the car with her. Her face had

turned pale, her body was right there with him but her

mind had journeyed far.

~~FLASHBACK~~

** May 27, 2014 **

Omotara sat on the floor of the bus which was covered

with a dirty rug. Still crying, she was feeling so uneasy

and dirty in her blood stained clothes. She wiped the

tears off her face from time to time but it was still

uncontrollable, it kept flowing down like a river. No one

could have imagined that such a calamity could befall a

happy family like hers, especially on her day of joy. Her

parents and two of brothers were brutally murdered, her

virginity was stolen in the most gruesome way and now

she and the rest of her siblings were being carried to an

unknown place, only God knew where they were taking

them to and what they wanted to use them for.

The bus vibrated on getting to a rough side of the road

after which the motion was slowed down and finally

brought to a stop. Some of their captors went out of the

bus and returned two minutes later. They began to lead

the youngest group of which Jerry was among, outside. It

was very dark, so Omotara could not see where they

were being led to.

‘Ahhh!’ She heard a loud groan which she recognized.

Her elder brother, Jeffery had fallen to the floor where he

was in the bus, a man who was holding a gun was

standing over him and looking at him with mean eyes. It

seemed as if Jeffery had tried to peep through the

window and the man had hit him on the head with the

butt of the gun. Her eyes met with her brother’s own , his

lips were vibrating, he was trying to say something to her

but he was inaudible. His eyes closed slowly and

gradually. Omotara’s cry increased, she couldn’t tell if he

died or fainted.

‘When we get out of this bus, I’ll make sure his head is

cut off’ the man who hit Jeffery said in a warning tone to

others. Omotara he felt like getting up to do something

like hitting the man furiously until he kills her too but she

couldn’t, her bones were so weak that she couldn’t even

lift her legs without vibrating. It wasn’t easy to be forced

on several sex rounds with the evil man whose body

weight was four times hers.

The main aim of the rapist was actually to molest her till

death, but she somehow survived. He had to give up after

he had gone several rounds with the innocent girl and

she wasn’t showing any signs of dying soon.

Jeffery was still laying down unconsciously when the bus

stopped again, that was after another hour of traveling.

Some of their captors went out again and returned few

minutes later to transfer another group of kids to

another bus. Omotara was part of the new group to be

transferred. Her peers began to get up and follow the

directions given by the men to move out of the bus.

Omotara was too weak to get up, she tried to, but her

legs failed her. She was still there with her back rested on

the bus wall as she struggled to get up, she noticed a pair

of boots stop in front of her, she looked up to see the

person. It was the same man who led the group into her

house and molested her, she could recognise his mask

and color of clothes. He took off his mask gradually,

revealing his mean face. He snarled and stared at her

wickedly.

‘Didn’t you see your mates going out?’ He barked and

landed a thunderous slap on her face. She rolled on the

floor with crying aloud. The intensity of her headache

increased, her vision was becoming blur. She stared into

his face, still weeping before she blacked out.

It was until the next morning she opened her eyes, very

hungry she was. She found herself in a forest, laying on

grass, clad only in her pant. Her stomach grumbled as

she tried to sit up, she could see her peers passing by her

side and carrying several logs of wood on their heads, all

dressed only in pants also.

Something landed on her head softly, a loaf of bread. She

picked it up hurriedly and started devouring it like an

hungry lion without trying to find the source. A man

came to stand in front of her, she looked up at his face.

He didn’t look like a Nigerian, but he was African.

‘Eat quickly. You can get water at the river over there’ the

man said, pointing in direction of the river. His intonation

and pronunciation further confirmed his non Nigerian

citizenship. ‘Join your mates immediately you finish,

there’s lot of work to do’ he concluded and walked away.

She paused a little while and turned around to look, it

seemed that the work had begun a long time, all the girls

were sweating heavily. Her headache began again.

~~PRESENT~~

‘Omotara’ Henry called. She blinked her eyes and turned

slowly to him, her eyes looked heavy but there was still

no tears in it.

‘Jeffery is dead. How do you claim to have seen him?’ She

asked in a threatening voice.

‘He’s not dead, I saw him, he came to me and we spoke.

He told me exactly the same story of how your parents

were killed, his account was in no way different from

yours…’ Henry’s phone interrupted again. He took it out

and silenced it after taking a look at the screen, Mr

Sylvester was the one calling now. He silenced it

permanently and returned it into his pocket.

‘Where did you see him?’ Tarasha asked.

‘He came to look for you and found me’ Henry answered.

Tarasha blinked her eyes, she was doubting his answer.

‘You’ve also seen him before’ he quickly added. ‘The man

who I saw you with in the Catholic Church premises’

Tarasha paused to think. Jefa’s picture flashed back into

her mind. She tried to connect his face with Jeffery’s but

she couldn’t find any connection. The man was way older

than Jeffery should be. She shook her head in

disagreement, mumbling some words to herself.

‘He told me your story, your full name and even showed

me one of your childhood pictures.

Tarasha shook her head in disbelief, she opened the door

and stepped out. She couldn’t take all what he was

saying, it couldn’t be true. Jeffery was dead, the man who

hit him with the butt of the gun had promised to take off

his head.

Henry stepped out of the car and turned to join her at

the other side.

‘Where is he now?’ She asked him.

‘He’s in town, I have his phone number’ Henry said

excitedly, he took out his phone and began to search

through his contact details. He dialed Jeffrey immediately

he saw it. Unfortunately, the line was switched off.

‘His phone is switched off now’ Henry announced,

looking disappointed.

‘Henry, please leave’ Tarasha said with a strict tone and

began to walk into the building without looking back.

‘Tara, we still need to talk’ Henry pleaded for her to wait

stop but to no avail. She was done with him already.

~~~

Jefa continued to flip through the pages of the diary. The

writings on each day increased as he progressed. He

realised that the events of older days were actually

recopied into the diary, they were transferred from the

previous ones and compiled into that one, it could be

seen from the writing and ink of pen used. Their mother

must have summarised and removed somethings she

considered irrelevances from the older ones because she

had about five to ten older days on a page while she had

the days which were closer to her death more detailed.

Precisely, two months before May 27, 2014 more

detailed; each days within that period took at least half a

page. But the ones were before that period were very

brief, the most brief ones were the ones of the early

2000s, each day contained only a line or even half a line.

His mother could not have recopied it alll by herself, she

must have paid someone to do it for her. The detailed

ones were the only ones written by her, it was evident

from the handwriting and neatness of pages. The total

writings ended at the third quarter of the book. He finally

stopped at some pages after the middle page. March 27,

2014. He began to read.

“Today, my family finally moved from our comfortable

duplex in Victoria Island, Lagos state to an hideout in

Gwaskara, Borno state. That was the only place we could

think of running to since my husband is an indigene of

the state. The conspiracy and threats of our enemies had

become more serious and it looked like the police could

do nothing about it. Even the Inspector’s advice was for

us to hide for the main time until they were less angry

with us. The house is not that bad, it just doesn’t look as

comfortable as our home is. It also needs thorough

cleaning and washing. Thank God schools have not

resumed yet, I would do the cleaning together with my

kids tomorrow.”

Jefa placed a finger on the page and closed the diary. He

raised up his head, deep in thoughts. He remembered

that Sunday several years ago, a mini van had arrived

into their compound as early as 3am, their parents woke

them up and asked them to start arranging their clothes

and books into bags. Jeffery did not understand what was

going on then, all his efforts to get an explanation from

his parents failed as they gave him no response. His

mother even shouted at him angrily to shut him up, only

for her to apologize two days later in the new house and

promise to tell him the reason for the movement when

he comes of age. He never got that explanation till his

parents were sent forcefully out of the land of the living.

Who could those enemies be? He thought. Who were

those who sent his family out of Lagos to a place of

unrest and unsettled security .

Except for an instance where he saw his parents

discussing with so much tension, he had never heard,

seen or suspected that his parents had enemies. He used

to think they were loved by everybody due to their

generous attitude and their selflessness in carrying out

their medical profession.

He opened the diary again and began to flip backwards,

scanning through each page briefly. He stopped at

February 24, 2014

“Today, the threats against us increased. The Chief once

again asked Danjuma to approve the deal but Danjuma

refused. The Chief went ahead to give us a deadline of

one month to consider it. He promised to take our lives if

we do not comply and sign the deal. I’ve never been so

confused in my life. My husband is confused too.

We’ve reported the situation to the police but no step has

been taken to act on our case, I strongly believe that

these Chiefs have a very strong backup in the force. May

God help us and save us from this terrible thing that is

about to befall us”

Jefa closed the diary again, he was more determined now

to find out who the Chiefs were. He opened and began to

flip backwards. A knock sounded on his door. He paused,

looked up and kept quiet to listen well. The knock came

again. He quickly got up and returned the diary to its

former position. He straightened his clothes and went to

the door. The police had come for him as expected, he

had explanations to make about the trouble that ensued

in his store the last night.