We are working towards publishing some of our books, so we want to get feedback from the public before doing so.

The following are excerpts from the unedited version of the book The Last Insurgent

A Bellan Fiction Books 2018. All rights reserved.

oga why you know dea finish previous stories before starting new one.... you won be Jack of all trades bah issokay

pheezylyon:
oga why you know dea finish previous stories before starting new one.... you won be Jack of all trades bah issokay

Lol. Writing of all the stories started since last year. Rounding up, crossing the Ts and dotting the is is what is going on currently.

Why the complaint

He is updating his stories as at when do and faster than other writers.

pheezylyon:
oga why you know dea finish previous stories before starting new one.... you won be Jack of all trades bah issokay

sensitivity chill guy..... I just thought we focus on one story get the drill and move to the next make him chop all the accolades differently

When will this story start? I cant fit wait o

MhizFavour:
When will this story start? I cant fit wait o

kikikiki...chill laa

ONE

2010

Adam paid for the confectioneries, produced a wide grin which was apparently for the cashier who grinned back. Unknown to her, that grin was a subconscious manifestation of the feelings of thinking about the lady waiting for him in the car.
He felt having her with him was surreal, after five months of melancholy, anxiety and painstaking search. He was not going to waste a single second; not even a nanosecond. It had to be done soon.

He stepped out with the confectionery with nimble steps, gave the security man by the door a nod and smile, before dropping a note of money in his hand. The man had smiled, saluted and thanked him.

Adam walked to his parked car, opened the car door and slid in. He cringed.
He was so hyper he did not take note before he sat down. Where was she? Did she go for a recharge card? But she could have simply waited for him and they could get that along the way.
He glanced round but he could not catch a glimpse of her. He laid his head on the headrest, puffed air and then closed his eyes.
Just a three more weeks!
He opened his eyes. She was not back. He brought out his phone and dialed her number. It connected and rang. She did not pick it.
This was not funny.

He got out of the car. There was a tag at the parking lot that read, cars parked at owner’s risk. That meant there was no one assigned to watch over anything there but he had to ask a security man, “please did you see the lady that was sitting in that car go out?”

“ Yes. I saw her go down there.” He pointed a finger.

“ When was that?”

“ About ten minutes ago.”

Adam grimaced. That was about three minutes after he left her.

“ Thank you very much.”

He walked towards the direction abruptly, aware that a wave of paranoia was sweeping through him. This was a commercial area, with lots of people moving around, and it was just a few minutes after noon. There seemed to be no cause for alarm but after thinking of what happened a few months ago, he felt jittery.

“Hey, did you see a lady dressed in a green gown pass through here, please?” He asked a man who sat before a bike.

“Yes, they just walked passed here.”

They?

“How many of them?”

“Two. She was with a man.”

Adam frowned. A man? Who was the man? Why was she with him or leave with him when he just went in to get her confectioneries?
It was not pertinent to ask more questions. From what the man had said, they were close-by. He went down the street, walking so fast. He looked left and saw a man looking shocked.

The man was fat, wearing shabby clothes. Instinct made Adam cross over the road and asked the man if he had seen her.

“Did you say she was wearing a green gown?” The fat man asked and Adam could feel that creepy sensation again.

“Yes.”

“I saw a man pointing a gun at her and they took her away inside a car! This kidnapping is so prevalent.”

Adam felt the earth spinning at an incredible speed, and seemed to be losing friction because he suddenly felt like he was going to slip and fall.
Again? She just returned one month ago for crying out loud.

He became confused.

“Which way did they go? When? How come nobody did anything? Why didn’t you shout?”

“The man seemed to be hiding the gun. People did not take note. I was too scared to shout because a similar incidence occurred and my friend raised an alarm only to be shot dead.”

Adam was so confused he did not notice when the man left him and walked away. He wanted description, he wanted the police to talk to the man, get clues.
He ran back to his car, trying to reach her on her phone, It kept ringing but nobody picked.

Why?

He called her father, and broke the bad news. He got into his car, started the car engine and headed to the nearest police station.




Adam stood in a katzenjammer, subconsciously squeezing the phone he held, trying to convince himself he was not hallucinating. The phone call he just received was one of the most shocking and annihilating conversation he had ever had.
The call lasted thirty minutes, until the person at the other end ended the call. He could feel every word spoken resonating with him, padded with sputtering sounds and magnified echoes that threatened his ear drum. He knew this was not in a nightmare. He should have seen it coming. The quiddity was not so esoteric but he was blinded. Now, he began to add things up. He had been a fool not have detected the quirks and subliminals.

Now everything made sense to him. He felt niggling, and a part of his head ached.
He stood still, trying to calm his nerves, and tumultuous brain.
He walked groggily to the bed, dropped his balk and closed his eyes. He had to talk to someone. The police needed to know this, and that should extend to her family members. This was a secret too hot to handle.
What was the use? There was no evidence, or clue to exact location.
He hesitated. He could not make a decision now. He was flummoxed, dejected and mentally lassitude. He switched off the light, and closed his eyes again but he knew he was not going to sleep. He remembered the first time he met Leena three years ago but the shocking phone call would not let him think straight.

He picked his phone, checked the time and hesitated. It was a few minutes after 11:00 PM. He scrolled down the call log then dialled a number.

“ Hello, Adam.” A ladies voice emerged.

“ Haneefa.”

“ I am surprised you are calling me this late.”

“ I am sorry about that. I could not wait till morning.”

“ What is it?’

“ I just received a phone call. It is about Leena. I got a very bad news.”

“ Oh my God! I hope she is not dead? I was told there has not been any demand for a ransom.”

Adam took in a deep breath.

“ I don’t know how to start explaining this. Okay, let me just go straight to the point……..” He began to talk.

2009

He perched precariously on a pew, sequestered from the shindig but watched with keen interest as people moved about, engaged in various activities .
The commercial complex was busy and he noticed an air of bliss as business seemed to boom. He grinned at himself. This was his favourite part, when it happened at an unexpected and happy time. He once heard someone call it schadenfreude.

He looked at his strap wristwatch. It was two minutes to 4:00pm. A sweet sensation crawled up his spine. Two more minutes! He looked round the big shopping complex with admiration.
The owner must have spent a fortune to build it. What a shame! From where he sat, he could see a girl that appeared suddenly covered in a black veil. She could not have been more than seven years old. Her movement was slow, looking unruffled and confident. He grinned at himself again.

It was all honky dory. There had to be no flunk. He got on his feet, stretched his six foot brawny body and put his left hand in the pocket of his long black coat. It was now just a few seconds to 4:00PM. With long strides, he made quick steps, climbed a few steps then paused. Yes, he was at the right spot. He brought out a small binocular and viewed. He could see the little girl in veil.
Her face was set in a calm expression and then excitement splashed on her face at once. He frowned. What was the excitement for? But there was no time for pondering and shilly-shallying.
It was 4:00PM.

He pushed his big thumb on a button of a small detonator he held in his right hand.
Boom!

It was a single blast and it was done. The little girl was first to shred into pieces then those around her and everything close-by.
The bomb blast was loud, frightening, causing an instantaneous destruction of the building, properties and lives. Building blocks scattered, the roof was reduced to sputtering particles flying in air, the atmosphere obfuscated by thick cloud of smoke and dust.
While some bodies were completely shattered, some were gruesomely disintegrated; bodies with no head, hands, legs could be seen loitered around. The scene was pathetic and sanguinary. Some were lucky to be alive with different degrees of injuries. Screams, moans, wailings filled the air.

The man in black coat grinned at himself as he saw the level of damage done. The operation was not a debacle. It was a success.
He turned his head then stiffened. There was a girl, probably twenty or twenty-one years old staring at him. She was tall, slim and statuesque, her large eyes set in a startled and befuddled expression. Even in that state of agitation, her ravishing beauty and elegance was palpable. She covered her dark long hair with a red scarf and wore long red gown. Her jewelleries were golden and sparkled. She hung an expensive Italian handbag and an i-pad.

The man in black grimaced. He had seen her in retrospect taking selfies. How could he have been oblivious to such a threat? The excitement of detonating a bomb, which was his hobby, got him overwhelmed and careless. There was no doubt, she had seen him. The pad! Oh no! She may have had his picture or a video perhaps!
Well, it was his luck to have spotted her and thanks to her foolishness for letting him know that she saw him.

His phone chimed. “Peace.” He said with his cadaverous eyes glaring at the girl.

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Someone demanded harshly from the other end. “Let’s get the hell out of here”

“ I am afraid there is a witness.” The man in black said coldly. The girl had turned and began to walk away hurriedly. The vicinity was now higgledy-piggledy and he knew the law men were on their way.

“Forget the witness. There is no evidence. The police are on their way”

Still pressing the phone to his ear and his grim eyes on the girl, he began to walk after her.

“ She has an i-pad. I suspect that she has my picture. I can’t take chances,” he said in a low tone, “ I have to clean the mess. I will clean it, pronto.”

“Damn! You goofed, bro!”

“I said I will clean the mess” He said impatiently, ended the call and accelerated with his deadly eyes still on the girl. The girl was now on the busy Burno Road. She kept moving as fast as she could, turning back her head frequently to see the giant coming after her. “ Oh no, he is coming after me!” She thought. Her heart was now beating violently, feeling a bitter taste in her mouth with a topsy-turvy mind. He began to run after her. His façade was now a bugaboo. She knew the monster coming after her was a mass killer. She began to scream for help. But the hotchpotch vicinity was already full of yelling, cries and hysteric agitations. No one really paid attention to her. She took a turn, ran down a long ambulatory lane with shops on both sides. The jittery shop owners were closing their shops and running for their lives. She turned and saw him. He was getting closer to her and she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up with her. Panting and gasping, she retarded due lack of stamina. She stumbled and fell to the ground. The pain was excruciating and she let out a loud scream, but when she saw the killer standing over her, she forgot the pain. She was at the jaws of death. His eyes was now a thin vicious line, bulgy and mean.

“Where is the pad?” He demanded.

“I don’t know.” She replied with a shaky voice, “I may have lost it while running.”

He growled then kicked her on her ribs. She yelled.

“Where is it? I swear I will kill you”

She was now crying, aware that her side ached. Her heart banged as she saw him pointing a pistol at her. The sound of sirens emerged. The police! The man twitched his lips. He had to be fast.

“I will ask you for the last time, where is…………” but he could not finish his sentence. There was a gunshot, not from his gun but from behind him. The bullet hit his back head and blood splashed coupled with a crashing sound of broken skull. Another bullet hit his back .
He stood still for a fraction of second. Who had shot him and why? He sagged, made a futile attempt to stop blood from spilling. His gun fell off, then dropped on the ground to stare blankly at her.

Out of nowhere, a young man appeared. He could not have been more than twenty nine years old. He was a little above average height, sturdy and athletic. He wore a pacific expression with handsome features. His swarthy skin looked smooth, his lips slightly red and firm with a thin nose and curved eyebrow, swaggering moustache and chin beard. Dressed in blue denim top over black jeans, he stared at her inquisitively.

“Come on,” he said calmly, “ they will come for you and it’s going to be bad. Follow me.”

Flustered and feeling extricated, she got on her feet and followed him. He led her quickly to a waiting Toyota Hilux. There was a balding man behind the wheel and another lanky man at the passenger’s side. He asked her to take a back seat while he sat beside her.

“So?” Asked the balding man.

“Debacle factor obliterated” replied the young man.

“Very good” the balding man said, turned the ignition to start the car engine before sliding through gears to set the car in motion. Ten minutes later, the car was racing down a windy road that led to Kabari forest.

The girl became suspicious.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“ Home.” Replied the young man.

“Home?” She frowned.

The driver pulled up the car, turned his flat face and said, “blindfold her.”

It was then she saw the butt of a gun in the young man’s pocket. A subcutaneous chilling feeling crawled up her spine and her teeth began to chatter. It now became clear that it was the young man who had shot the man in black coat. Who were these men? She was now shivering, her teeth chattering in trepidation. She was blindfolded. The car resumed its inglorious journey and kept roaring into the deep forest for another two hours before they finally arrived their destination. She could not see but from what she heard, there seemed to be a lot of people there.

She guessed it was a camp. Immediately they alighted, the young man grabbed her forcefully and dragged her along. She heard someone say, “won’t you wait for the Lion to examine her?”

“She is mine.” The young man replied firmly and forced her into a chalet and locked the door. He slapped her, she screamed before he flung her on the bed and pressed her neck. She screamed louder while those outside laughed.

This was the day Leena met the insurgent. The saga of north-western part of Nigeria was in full motion. Western education is banned and a new national order is inchoated.

Leena let out a loud scream.

TWO


2009

Captain Kamal Noor alighted from a dark green military jeep, holding a leather folder, checked the address again, and then nodded at himself. He was at the right place. He moved his heavy body with alacrity towards the big bronze gate. A gatekeeper peeped through a spy hole, and then opened the gate.

“You must be Captain Noor.” Said the gatekeeper as he extended his hand to shake Amar.

“Yes, I am.”

As they shook hands, the gatekeeper added unnecessary strength to his grip to impress the military officer. When he was told to expect a military officer, he had quickly wore is beret, almost covering his eyes, made sure his boots were glittering and his security uniform which was sawn like a military uniform was well worn.

“Identification, please,” he said trying to sound hard,

“you know how our work is. I mean we the security men. We all are security men, are we not? you, the police, the airforce, custom, immigration, we…..”

“ Sure, we all are.” Kamal cut in and showed an ID card.

“Come in comrade. My boss is waiting.”

“Thank you…..comrade.” Amar said and it was obvious that the security man was overwhelmed as the military man called him a comrade. He was led into the large compound with exotic cars parked at a spacious parking space, a two storied mansion was standing at the middle with a beautiful lawn and flowers. The house reeked of opulence, sophistication and style. But the expressions on the faces of the couple that welcomed him was an epitome of melancholy. The man was tall, chubby and light complexioned. Dressed in a simple caftan and flip flop. He was a little above fifty years old. His wife was of moderate height, slim and ravishingly beautiful. Her sulky eyes were behind a gold rimmed glasses. She wore no makeup but her green brocade must have cost a fortune.

“ I am khalid Idris. This is my wife, Aeesha. You must be Captain Kamal Noor.”

“Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure meeting you? Kamal said, shook his hands and then nodded at her.

“Please sit down.” Khalid said with a gesture. Amar made himself comfortable on a sofa as the couple sat opposite him.

“What would you like to drink, officer?”

“Thank you but I will have nothing.”

“You said it was to do with our daughter. Any news about her?”

Immediately Idris asked that question, Aeesha broke into tears. The daughter was their only surviving daughter. They had three sons. How beautiful and vivacious she had looked on that fateful day. Now they were hoping to find her dead body which they fear might have been shattered.

“I am afraid, no,” Amar replied, “ I am an Intelligence Officer with ATOF: Anti-terrorism Operation Force.
When there is a suspected terrorist attack, like the recent bomb blast at Fermy shopping complex perpetrated by miscreants, we move in. We made a discovery which made it imperative for me to trace and contact you. We don’t want to give you false hope but I feel your daughter may be alive…..”

“But it’s been three weeks since the bomb blast .” Idris cut in. “ How come she has not tried to contact us?”

“We are not saying she is alive. She is probably alive. We found this,” he removed an i-pad from the folder, “an eye witness said she saw her throw this into a trash can and then ran away as if been chased. When we scrutinised the pad, we found something interesting. She was recording and incidentally caught a man suspected to have detonated the bomb on camera. We have been using the data to facilitate our investigation. Let me show you.” He put on the pad, searched then played a video. She was seen recording herself, probably planning to post it on social media, then she started filming the vicinity until she caught the man in black coat. Immediately after the bomb blast, he had turned and seen her, grimaced so she had lowered the pad and began to walk away, filming the ground, then started running.

“Oh my God!” Aeesha whispered.

“She was been chased,” Kamal said, “by the suspected killer.”

“Hope he did not kill her.” Idris said lugubriously.

“We found his body,” said Kamal, “a few hundred meters from the trash can the pad was found. He was shot dead.”

Idris’s face crinkled. He moved forward then placed his palms on his knees. “Who killed him?” He asked.

“That is what we are trying to find out. There was a pandemonium so it was easy for the shooter. We believe the man in black coat caught up with her, discovers the pad is not with her, his accomplices feel he is a threat, and he is killed to cover their grubby track. We have identified the man in black coat but he is dead. Dead men don’t talk. We are faced with the task of digging into his clandestine activities.”

“What do you think happened to my daughter?” Aeesha asked, her eyes had a glimpse of hope. “We thought she was caught up in the blast.”

“I can’t say precisely,” Kamal replied, “They may have shot her too but her body was not found. If they had no time to dispose the body of their man, then they could not have taken away her body.” Kamal slightly touched his chin absentmindedly. “They may have taken her away. That is my intuition.”

“Please help us find her, Officer. She is all we got.” Aeesha said amid tears.

“I understand how you feel, Mrs Khalid. We will do all we can to get your daughter back. “Kamal said firmly.

2009

He was called Jahl. Standing an inch above seven feet tall with broad shoulders, stiff body rippling with muscles, broad chest and narrow waist. He stood as firm as a pole. His eyes were protuberant, vicious and red. His face was covered with grizzled beard and a long thick scar made a line across his forehead. He wore a red turban and covered his caftan with a military camouflage jacket. His black boots was dusty and a sophisticated AK47 hung over his shoulder. He had been away for three weeks and had just returned. He had inspected the sixteen girls captured and one of them had tickled his fantacy. Her beauty had hit his heart so hard it skipped some beats. Her eyes were captivating and her figure was mesmerizing. He had thought she was a mulatto due to her long, silky curly hair and complexion. He had decided to have her for himself only to be told that Mufty had taken her for himself and the knot had been consummated having been living with him for three weeks.
He had felt a heart bang that scared him. It was disheartening. He had captured and distributed over six hundred girls in the past but none of the girls ever made him felt this way. If it had been somebody else, he could have dissolved the knot and taken her but Mufty…No! Who gave him the right to choose a girl without his consent? He was the lion, king of the jungle and no other animal had the right to choose a prey before him.

Mufty was a gallant soldier, a competent sniper and active believer of the callisthenics but that did not give him the right to cross boundaries. So Mufty was punished. He had punched him in the belly, kicked him and hit his mouth. Now as he stood like a pole over Mufty who was lying on the ground with a bleeding mouth, he looked at him and said, “you have never agreed to have a woman here due to your curse, why her? Why, you numbskull?” Mufty said nothing but wiped blood off his mouth.

“ You will go on a major operation without benefit. That will be the bride price..” Jahl said.

They were under a baobab tree in the camp known as Al-bait. It was built four years ago secretly by the men at the top and it was handed over to Jahl who ran the place. It was located in the heart of the vast Kabari Forest. It was one of the largest forest in the nation covering over six hundred square kilometres. It was thick with grasses, shrubs and trees. It was a haven for wild animals and most suitable location for Al-bait. It had over six hundred cabins , housing over two thousand people including women and children. It was fenced with barb wire, protecting it against wild animals. It was a little world on its own with a clinic, mini market where groceries were sold but the men at the top provided food for all of them.

Jahl lit a cigarette, inhaled smoke, grimaced and then puffed out a thick cloud of smoke. “ You are going to head tonight’s operation,” he said “ Sheikh Jabir is getting out of hand. His sermons are always against us. He is deceiving the public with his rhetoric. He has a great followership. There is an order to settle him. That is God’s wish and His wish is ours. Now get out of here and go prepare yourself.” He turned at a man holding a machine gun.

“What is the update on Jamil?” Jahl asked.

“ ATOF has the pad. They have discovered his identity. They are working on him.”

“ Balderdash, they are in for a wild goose chase. It’s a dead end .” Jahl said and moved his lips in what he felt was a smile. “ God is with us. We are the bastions of godliness. The world has become too grubby, too many wicked people around. Oppression is prevalent, corruption is everywhere, religion is deadening, girls are deprived of their rightful places. Parents allow girls, I mean girls that are supposed to be in their matrimonial homes go to school. Imagine a girl that is over fourteen still going to school. That is infidelity! That is one of the pernicious influences of western-education. We can’t let this madness go on. We must stop it and no one can stop us. God is with us.”

Mufty got up, nodded and said, “God is with us”

Jahl looked at him for a second then said, “you love her, don’t you?”

Mufty nodded. “I do love her.”

“Very good. You may go. “Jahl said, inhaled smoke then walked away with three gunmen following him. Mufty did not look back but hurried into his cabin which comprised of two rooms, a toilet and kitchenette. Not every member was given the privilege to own two rooms alone. Mufty had been with them for three years and proved to be an effective soldier.

He was smart, ruthless, ambidextrous and fearless. He pushed the wooden door violently and banged it and then used a hanky to wipe blood off his mouth.

Immediately he came in, Leena looked away. She heard and saw what happened. She had been with him for three weeks and had become scared of him. He was taciturn, fastidious and rarely talked. The room which served as living room was furnished with a three sitter sofa, carpet, a book shelf with few books in it.
The bedroom had a mattress laid on a carpet, a table with toothbrush, toothpaste and body creams on it and a locally made clothe hanger with a few clothes hanging. She was jittery after seeing what had happened to him. She was peeking and saw all that happened. He was now infuriated and may pounce on her. He sat on the sofa while she was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. She smugly glanced at him.

He had his head bowed. He sat still, not uttering a word or moving for about ten minutes. She felt uncomfortable then summed up the courage to say, “I am sorry.”
He said nothing and acted as if he did not hear her. She was silent for a few seconds.

“But why are you doing this?” She said slowly and hesitantly. He raised his head abruptly and a sudden fear drifted into her.

“Doing what?”

“ You are been punished for having me. You agreed that you have been sleeping with me but you have never lay on the same bed with me. You never molested me sexually. You barely talk to me. Yet you are getting punished for what you did not do.”

He stared at her for a few seconds as if hesitating before he looked away.

“I told them I was HIV positive.” He said. “ We have captured many girls and I always refused to have any so when I was pressed, I said I was sick. And the girls would be given to some one else.”

“But why did you say so?”

“ I believe in the course but I was not comfortable with some things. We believe it is wrong for grown up girls to wander about without marriage in the name of western education. It is a menace to us. The Islamic ethics has been polluted by the system. We want everything to go back to normal. We want the so called girl education obliterated, even the boys should leave western education and we should concentrate on Islamic education. So when we abduct girls, we marry them off to our soldiers. Some are exported to good men. Now we want a change of Government. But when I am given a girl to marry, something in me makes me feel uncomfortable.” He wiped off blood from his mouth.

“ You are the first I took in. It was to save you. That was the reason I roughened you up the day I brought you, it was to give the impression that I was forcing myself on you. I realised that claiming to be HIV positive never saved the girls. They were always given to somebody else. I gave the impression that it was consummated so they will be scared of you. It is against our law to use contraceptives so no one will ever get to you. You heard him call it a curse. I have a load of retroviral drugs I don’t use.”

This came to her as a surprise. She never guessed he had a scintilla of pity in him.

“ But the bomb, how is it connected to this?” She said.

“ You have no right to interrogate me. I have never talked to anyone like this.” He said firmly. He was silent for a few seconds then said, “we are just sending messages to the government and caboodle that we are for real. We started peacefully by preaching but our Shaikh was arrested several times and later shot to death. They thought they could stop us, so we changed our modus operandi and waged war on them. We are Islamic jihadist’. We are fighting for God. We want to obliterate infidelity and this country must be Islamised. Anything western must go.”

“ But you sound educated.”

“That was before I saw the light. I have a degree in Electrical-electronics Engineering.” He stood up, took a few steps to the end of the room, then sighed. He turned, looked at her then shook his head. “ What is your name?”

“ Leena. Leena Idris.”

“ I am Mufty Salman.” There was a sudden knock at the door. He went and opened the door. It was a short stocky man. “ The Amir says you should get set. You have a bride price to pay.”

Mufty nodded and shut the door. His face changed into a granite hard façade. He moved into the room with agility and changed into a black outfit. He moved to the door, opened it then turned at her. What a protean character. “I am going out. In case I don’t come back, hold tight to the drugs until you meet someone you love and confess to him.” He said and without giving her the chance for a word, he shut the door and disappeared.

Leena covered her face, thinking of her family and wondering if she would ever see them again. Adam! Oh, her Adam! She was missing him. What a tragedy. Just a few weeks to their wedding and this happens.
She saw a lot of young girls there. Some of them were abducted from schools. There was a girl called Rabi. She got married and went to write WAEC the next day only to be abducted. Now she is with a child for another man. What kind of people were this? What kind of Islam were they practicing?

It was at that point she heard a loud knock at the door.

“ Who is that?” She asked.

There was no reply. Someone pushed the door open and she saw a giant come in. It was Jahl. He looked so bogey.

It was a few minutes past 7:00PM and a large number of Muslim audience were getting ready for another night of lecture by the famous Shaikh Jabir at the Bin Uthman Memorial Mosque. Over three hundred people sat in the mosque while over one thousand were outside hoping to hear the lecture through the loud speaker. There were about a hundred men, both young and old dressed smartly in light brown uniforms. Some were busy at the gate with metal detectors searching those coming in. The recent bomb blasts and terrorist attacks lead to this proactive measures. Among the audience was a man dressed in white jallabiya and skull cap.

He walked towards the fence, making sure no one could hear him, he put a call through.

“The shaikh has arrived,” he said in a little above whisper, “ the lecture will last two hours, that means the Isha prayers will be postponed to 9:00PM. I hope you will be in position.”

“I am close by,” Mufty said from the other end, “ I see everything. Just keep me posted. May his soul rest in peace.”

The man smiled. He knew Mufty never missed a target so it was going to be the end of the pesky Shaikh. Mufty was sitting comfortably on a branch of tree with thick leaves which gave him the cover he needed. He had a bubble gum in mouth and he chewed slowly as he dabbed the butt of his target riffle. He would wait patiently, hoping the angels were watching him, building his mansion in paradise as he carried out God’s work.

Shaikh Jabir was fifty five years old. He was light complexioned with long beard. Highly knowledgeable, articulate, charismatic and influential, he was well respected and famous. He walked into the mosque flanked by two First Aid Group (gay) members. Sitting on a comfortable chair with a table in front, he waved his Qur’an reciter, Alaramma Saheed to sit on the chair beside him while the gay men stood firmly behind them. There had been a wave of excitement as he came in. Some of the audience shouted,”Allahu akhbar!”

He started by praising God, invoked blessings on the Holy Prophet SAW, the companions and the Muslim caboodle.
After a brief prayer, he looked at the crowd, went silent for a few seconds then said, “ I was asked to talk about the importance of hajj but I beg to digress because we are faced with an issue with great pernicious influence on us. We are aware of the incipient agitation by a group of people calling for the abolition of Western Education in this country. They claim it is Haram and anything west is forbidden. So I want to talk about education. We do not have enough time to talk much about this important topic but I will try to be brief. The first thing Angel Gabriel asked the holy Prophet SAW to do was to read. The Holy one did not only come to teach how to worship but a complete way of life. Study the Qur’an, you find geography, economics, sociology, mathematics, history, law, etcetera.

He taught medicine, hygiene, government and a lot more. So where is this idea from that Islam frowns at education? They call it western education. He paused, wiped his face with a hanky then continued, “how dare you say education is forbidden when some of the greatest contributions to education was done by Muslims. Like I said in retrospect, we do not have much time for this but I will like to tell you or remind you of some of these contributions which I know most of you are aware of. Imagine a world without mathematics. Imagine mathematics without algebra.

Thanks to Muhammad ibn Musa al-khawarizm. The word algorithm was coined from his name. He was born in 720 and died 840. He was a great mathematics researcher whose work in algebra, algorithm, calculus, astronomy and geography cannot be forgotten .
He compiled the oldest trigonometric table. He also introduced Indian numerals which became Arabic numerals and today, the most popular number system which is the Hindu-Arabic number system is been used worldwide. Before him was Jabir ibn Hayyan, Abu Musa was known as the father of chemistry. Did you know that shampoo was introduced to Europe by a Muslim who opened a bath house in Brighton Seafront in 1759. He was also appointed shampooing surgeon to King George IV and William.” He paused, sipped water and then said, “ the ancient Greek thought eyes emitted rays like laser which enable us to see.

The first person to realise that light enters the eyes rather than leaving it was a tenth century Muslim mathematician, astronomer and physicist called Ibn Al-haithm. He worked on the pin hole camera after noticing the way light came in through the window shutter. The smaller the hole, the better the picture. He worked out the first camera obscurer from the Arabic word qamara which means a dark or private room.

The first person to describe how the eye works in detail was Abu al-hassan from Basra. He worked out experiments with reflective materials and proved that the eye does not sense the environment with light rays as was previously believed. He also discovered that the curved glass surface can be used for magnification. His glass ‘reading stones’ were the first magnifying glasses ever to be made. The reading glasses were developed from this. The greatest physician until the modern era was Ibn Sina also known as Avicenna. His book, Al-qannun fi al-tibb was a standard book used in Europe for seven hundred years. After the creation of hospitals around the year 1000, a Muslim doctor known as Al-Zahrawi published a 1500 page illustrated encyclopaedia of surgery which was used in Europe as a medical reference for five hundred years.

The first detailed world map was by Muslim. The first degree-granting university was founded in Fez, Morocco in the year 859. I wonder why some people use Islam as an excuse to cause chaos. Although generations of rulers have tried to expunge the era when Muslims ruled and changed Europe from historical records, recent archaeology and scholarship have shed fresh light on the moors who flourished in Al-Andalus for more than seven hundred years. Find out and see the ingenious mathematics behind Granada’s dazzling Alhambra Palace. Their astronomy, art, agriculture helped propel the west out of dark ages and into renaissance. If you want to know more about this, watch a documentary by Bettany Huphes titled ‘When The Moors Ruled in Europe’. I also urge you to watch another documentary by BBC, presented by Omar Rager titled ‘An Islamic History of Europe’. Now tell me who on Earth as any substantial reason to claim western education is bad. Islam is a religion of peace and knowledge. Do not let anyone deceive you. Send your children to school, both boys and girls. The Prophet, peace be upon him said we should learn from the cradle to the grave….I, Jabir support girl-child education……..”

“Allahu akhbar!” a follower shouted. “ You have spoken the truth, Mallam.”

“I support education,” he continued, “ but denounce any life style that comes with it that contradicts our religious beliefs . I find it highly idiosyncratic and befuddling why these agitation is on ground. Where did these people get this idea? Are they truly bastions of Islamic ethics?
No! They are epitome of hypocrites, retrogressive and ignorant souls or……people made to cause upheaval. You claim it is haram to deal with western education, yet you use their cars, wristwatches, guns, fly their planes, and so on,” he giggled, shook his head, “ I must say this today. I believe the recent bomb blasts we have been experiencing are connected to these agitations. I have my reasons but due to lack of evidence, I will not go deep now but insha Allah, the time will come when this people will be exposed. They claim it is jihad. Lah (No)! This is not jihad. This is pure terrorism. People don’t know what jihad means. When you do anything that uplifts the word of God, it is jihad and you must start with your heart. Fight your heart. The heart is prone to evil. Overcome your evil desires and follow the laws of God.

The prophet gave commandments in wars brothers and sisters, this is how you know who is a real jihadist. Even during a war, it is prohibited in Islam to cut down a tree, kill a child, kill old people, destroy a temple, or church, kill those who surrender, or run away, kill a woman, sick person, a priest, pastor, or monk. It is also prohibited to disfigure the dead. You are only allowed to kill an animal only for the purpose of eating and it is obligatory to treat prisoners well and feed them. But what do we witness today? You go to a trade centre and detonate a bomb, killing innocent people, children, women, old people, civilians, and keep shouting ‘Allahu akhbar’. You will rot in hell. You detonate bombs and destroy lives and properties in the name of Islam….your own Islam but not ours, the conventional and true Islam. If you are right, bring out your proves that the Prophet, peace be upon him behaved the way you do. I challenge any one to check history, all the gazwahs and tell us where the Muslims killed children, women, civilians, and so on.

You are not Muslims but terrorists! There is no compulsion in religion. Unto your religion and unto mine but do not stop me from practicing mine. You are been brainwashed to commit suicide after committing mass murder by suicide bombing, and you are told that seventy two virgins await you in heaven.
No virgins in hell,” there was a short burst of laughter from the audience, “Suicide is a straight ticket for eternal stay in hell fire. You will pay for killing yourself and others. Terrorists have no religion, I once heard a white man say. Some faceless oligarchs, deep into a fustian pact are behind this rhetorical, rabble rousing clandestine movement. But I blame us who allow ourselves to be instigated and used in these sanguinary acts. Today, Islam is seen as a religion of war. There are gullible ones, with negative pre-conditioned mind-set gotten through subliminal messages, rhetoric, propaganda and vitriol, who believe. Don’t get me wrong, there are Muslims who perpetuate these acts, but they don’t represent Islam. When it is a Muslim, it is terrorism, if it is a non-Muslim, it is just a crime. We must put all hands on deck and make the world a better place. We must live in peace and work together, no matter our differences. We will not be honest with ourselves if we say we are one.

We are different in many ways but all we need to do is understand our differences and live as one. Like I said in retrospect, we must start by fighting our hearts, pray and abide by divine laws then God will help us. I think I can use the remaining time to talk about Hajj……….”
He preached for another hour and the prayers was called. Mufty knew the time had come for the Sheikh to get lead balls into his body. In the darkness, without the use of light, he began to assemble his gun.

Mufty waited patiently, knowing the sheikh was about to come out, probably after a few handshakes with followers. He caressed the gun slowly. His position was perfect and he knew there was no way he could miss his target. People had begun to leave the mosque, mostly making comments on the day’s lecture.
The video CD was already on sale. It was easy for them. They filmed while the lecture went on, there was no editing, all they did was duplicate and sell.

A man dressed in suit was first to come out through the Imam’s door. Mufty frowned. He needed not to be told he was a DSS officer and the bulge on his side told him it was a gun. Well, that should not come as a surprise because the Sheikh knew his life was in danger. He had been openly speaking against them and that was a dangerous thing to do. Next to come out was a tall, lanky middle aged man dressed in white caftan whom Mufty recognised to be Alaramma Sadiq, the sheikh’s reciter. Then the Sheikh came out, flanked by guards and followed by his students.

Mufty did not waste time. He raised his gun, looked through the target glass, made sure he was set, looked at the sheikh’s happy looking face then pulled the trigger twice. The Sheikh went down at once, two brave guards covered him, the DSS had removed his pistol, registered the point he suspected the shot came from then shot back. Sadiq was on the floor, panting , crawling to safety, while the sheikh was dragged inside the mosque.

Pandemonium broke out and the place became obstreperous. People began to run randomly, leaving their shoes behind, jumping over fence and scampering.
Mufty was sure he got his target, he jumped down and moved into the darkness. He was hoping to join the confused crowd and escape but a shot that barely missed him made him jumped on the ground and automatically fired back.
There were police men around. He shot again, got up and broke into a run. Ricocheting bullets went after him. He was used to this type of chase. He turned, shot back, then sprang up, vaulted over a fence, ran and crawled under a van, came out of the other side and moved into a murky part where he could see people still running and shouting. His phone vibrated. He picked it and heard Gali say, “where are you?”

Amar could see Gali among the crowd. It was the man in white jallabiya who was the humint in the mosque.

“I can see you,” Mufty said, sneaking into the crowd, “I am behind that water tank …”

“ I get it. Stand up, we have to leave. I got you covered….” But he could not complete the sentence as Mufty came behind him. It happened with an incredible speed. Mufty held his neck, ran a knife across and allowed the lifeless body drop, bleeding like a slaughtered ram.

“ Subahanllah!”A man shouted. “He killed him! He killed him. He is one of them.”

Mufty quickly wore his mask, sent bullets into the air and the people who had thought of apprehending him changed their minds. Instead, they ran for their lives. The police had called for backup but it was too late. Mufty had ran to their Hilux, got in and the man behind the wheel swung the car away.

Twenty minutes later, making sure they were not tailed, they were on the dusty road to their camp. The man behind the wheel, Shehu, glanced at Mufty.

“ How far ?”He asked.

“ I got him.” Mufty replied without looking at him. He put the gun on his lap while he squeezed the mask with his hand. He was tensed up, his mind tumultuous and Shehu noticed this. Mufty was usually calm and satisfied after a kill but there was something different about this operation. Knowing how dangerous Mufty was, Shehu decided not to ask any further question.

The powerful headlights sent strong beam which fell on the dust road, bordered by tall trees, shrubs and grasses.

“I called Gali,” Shehu began, “his phone was switched off.”

“ I have the phone with me. It must not be found on him even though it is a mission phone with no implicating data.”

Shehu felt a bang in his heart. Gali had fallen; killed by Mufty. It was not long ago that he took Jamil Kamil, Umar Daud, and Mallam Lawal.

Clean up, it was called but Gali was in no position to be wiped out. He was not the sniper. There was something unusual about it.

“May his soul rest in peace.” Shehu prayed.

“Ameen.”

Mufty’s phone rang.

“ Assalamu alaikum.” He said.

“Where are you” A thick, hard voice said from the other end. It was Jahl.

“ On our way back.” Mufty replied.

“ You missed the target.” Jahl said coldly.

“What?”

“You did not kill him.”

“I shot him. I got him.”

“I said you did not kill him and shut up! You failed. The only kill you made was Gali. Why?”

“You know why?”

“ What do you mean?”

“ There were police and I was chased. Gali was going to clean up: wipe me out. I knew I was not going to be caught so why let him kill me?

And you know better than I do that it was not a point for explanations. I had no choice.”

“I am not bothered about him. He is on his way to paradise. I am worried about you not killing Sheikh. You failed the mission……for the first time and that is your grace. You have never failed.”

The line went dead.

I did not fail, Mufty thought, I hit the target……the Sheikh’s cap.
He knew he could have taken him out with a single shot, left him with a shattered heart that no surgeon could fix. He had been trained to kill but could not bring himself to kill him. Not after listening to his lecture. The sheikh answered his long unanswered questions, opened his eyes and brought him to his senses. This was not jihad. It was terrorism. They were nothing but murderers. They had been blinded, deceived and brainwashed.

He nearly laughed when Jahl said Gali was on his way to Paradise. Jahl was the known head of the sect. But how was he able to fund them? Feeding over two thousand people daily, even though they have a unit of cattle rustlers who bring in plenty cows to be slaughtered. They said it was important for the jihadist to have plenty meat to work for God.
They had an arsenal full with sophisticated weapons, fleet of expensive Toyota Hilux trucks, contacts and enough money to make them rich. Jahl was just a puppet been used by the unseen masters. But none of them knew anything. God! They were part of a setting they knew little about.

None of them knew the source of funds, the men at the top, the real purpose of the agitation. They had not bothered because they were given a lot of money, food, women and most important, made to believe they were working for God. No! Sheikh was right, it was a fustian pact. He had felt something was not right but he could not figure it out. He started getting a cold feet from the day Jamil bombed the complex. He had watched Jamil deceive the girl, promising her sweets, chocolates if they got there. When they had arrived, Jamil had gone to pick his spot and when it was time, the little girl was told to go and collect her chocolates, fixing the bomb on her and telling her it was a machine that produced biscuits. She was only seven. They had told her to go into the complex and meet Jamil. Mufty was there, had a binocular, watching the little girl then at the final stage, a few seconds to her death, he saw that excited expression on her face, a smile that splashed on her pretty face, she had seen a beautiful white teddy displayed for sale.

She had that excited expression as the bomb blast. It was a scene he had not been able to forget. Only God knew where Mallam SB had gotten her from. Why was he going back now? Why did he not escape from the mosque? He knew he would be killed if suspected to have intentionally spared Sheikh Jabir.

He knew why. Leena! He could not leave her there. He was responsible for her abduction and if saving her was the last thing he was going to do, so be it. It was going to be difficult and very dicey but he did not care. But why? He remembered reading it in an hadith that forceful marriage was prohibited in Islam. Why did they abduct girls and marry them forcefully, without the consent of their parents? Sometimes they abducted married women and dissolved their marriages to marry her off to someone else. He knew why. It was not Islam they were practising. He had to do whatever it took to free her.
He knew how tight the security system was. As they drove towards the camp now, he knew there were stations with people watching them, taking turns. There were also devices connected to a satellite system and watched on screens by guards. Yes! He would have to smuggle her out. That would be when he was going to deliver provisions to the members of the training camp, he would simply put her in a sack and leave.
When they finally arrived the camp two hours later, it was almost 12:00AM and most of the insurgents and their so called wives were asleep, except for those on guard. Mufty went straight to his cabin.

He was surprisingly eager to see Leena. He wanted to talk to someone who would be on the same page with him, someone to share with as he felt a heavy weight on his mind. This was unusual for him. He never liked to share with anyone, kept to himself and never really had a close friend. He knocked at the door slightly, heard no response, knocked again a little louder, and still heard no response. He turned the door handle. The door was not locked.
That was unusual. She never let the door open when he was out. He went in, the lights were out. He ran his hand on the wall until he found the switch and put on the light. He walked briskly into the bedroom which they shared and switched on the light. He felt a bang in his heart. She was not there. Hopelessly, he went to the toilet to check, he was not surprised not to find her .Then he noticed that the small bag given to her to put the few clothes was gone. What was going on? Where was she? Escape was out of the question.

“You seemed to be more worried about her….,” Jahl’s thick voice emerged from behind, “than your failure tonight. Failure to Serve God.”

Mufty turned swiftly.

“ Where is she? ”

“I can see you are deeply in love. You are beginning to forget that our raison detre is to worship God. You have never missed a target until you fell in love.” Jahl said, still standing by the door. “ I sent her away .She has been taking away where you will never see her again .They came and I put her on the list.”

Mufty felt his heart beating faster, fighting the urge to pounce on the giant.

“ She is my wife, Ameer.”

“No.” Jahl said firmly. “ To have a wife, you must pay a bride price. Remember what I said in retrospect, the mission was to be your bride price and you failed. She is going with someone else forever. I did not bother to tell them she is HIV positive. Who knows if you did not even infect her. Who knows if it is a lie that you are positive? I should have made them test her. But,” he shrugged, “she has gone. Not even I can bring her back. You should have sought my blessing from the start. I am the father of all. No money, no wife.”
He turned and started moving out. After a few steps, he turned and said, “ the Sheikh is dead alright.”

Mufty frowned.

“You said I missed.”

“Yes, you missed, but someone else finished the job but the house thinks it is you. You still have the credit and I will keep it that way. God has finally taken His enemy, the hypocritical Sheikh, away. Glory be to God. Have a good rest. Peace be upon you.” He went out, banging the wooden door after him with a great force. Mufty stood still for a few seconds which looked like a life time. He was very sure what he hated most in the world was this sect and they just made an enemy. He lowered himself and sat on the floor, leaning his back on the wall. He could see Leener’s image sitting on the bed, asking him to eat. I will find her….at all cost, he decided.

Labarin nan yana nunawa dai dai abubuwan da ya me Faruwa a Arewa ta East na kasa Nijeriya da massalolin ISWAP (Jamā'at Ahl as-Sunnah lid-Da'wah wa'l-Jihād).

Ya kamata ka

Sensitivity1254:
Labarin nan yana nunawa dai dai abubuwan da ya me Faruwa a Arewa ta East na kasa Nijeriya da massalolin ISWAP (Jamā'at Ahl as-Sunnah lid-Da'wah wa'l-Jihād).

Ya kamata ka

Wannan maganan haka yake, dan-Uwa

Ya kamata ka bi duk wannan abubuwa a hankali domin zaman lafita da kwancin rai na ka da na gidan ka.

SokoDobo:


Wannan maganan haka yake, dan-Uwa

Sensitivity1254:
Ya kamata ka bi duk wannan abubuwa a hankali domin zaman lafita da kwancin rai na ka da na gidan ka.

Gaskiya ne. Na gode da wannan shawaran

U write a story and at the same time make people understand the motives behind insurgency and Islam making us see it from another perspective than what is assumed generally. A great piece and weldone.

THREE

Miss Ann smiled coquettishly , fully relaxed behind her swivel chair and her oval shaped face away from the computer which was on her desk. Smartly dressed in light blue T-shirt and black jeans, she sipped her coffee then said, “how nice to see you Captain.” Kamal smiled back. “Thanks Miss…..”

“ Cut the miss, Captain. For the umpteenth time, I am Ann.”

“Okay Ann. So let’s get even, Call me Kamal and cut the Captain stuff.”

“That’s cool. I wonder how you look in mufti, Cap…..oops! I meant Kamal.”

“ Yeah, I am lucky you have never seen me in mufty. I am told I look more awful.”

“Nonsense. You know you are cool. I wonder if you have a life after military.”

“I wonder myself. ATOF has taken over my life.”

“ Your wife must be understanding.”

“Yeah….cause I will tell her before she comes in.”

She eyed him, swivelling her chair slightly, took another sip then said, “Still single?”

“Just left NDA four years ago, still young and planning. I am just twenty seven.”

“ You are starting hard.”

“ I started hard from the day I decided to join the military.”

“ You need go easy.”

“With bombs blowing frequently, I think it’s just getting harder except if you and I could have time to talk this over dinner. I have never seen you away from this computer. You away from the computer , I out of my khaki.”

“ Are you asking me out ?”

“ Sounds like it. I will be free on Saturday night.”

“ Do I have your number?”

They exchanged numbers.

“ You have our office number, don’t you?” A voice said from behind. Kamal turned at a young man, slightly older than him, dressed in well-cut fawn coloured suit. He was of moderate height, wearing a swaggering moustache that gave him a cushy expression. This was Detective Derrick Etoh of the CID. A sagacious and quick witted agent, he had been considered as one of the best in the department. “ Of course I do. I was taking her number in case you need my help.” Said Kamal.

Derrick giggled as they shook hands. He looked at Ann.

“ We need you in this department, Miss Ann, so ……” Derrick said and glanced at Kamal, “ delete that number and you are safe.”

They all laughed.

“ I will give you a call.” Kamal told her before they walked into Derrick’s neat office”

Derrick went behind his desk while Kamal sat opposite him.

“ She is awesome, huh?” Derrick said

“ Ravishing.” Kamal confessed .

“Maybe too hot to handle”

“What? Is there something I should know. I have a date already.”

“Whoa! That’s fast. Faster than some officers who have tried.”

“Tell me what you know?”

“That should be after we are through with your reason for been here, I promise.”

Hearing this, Kamal forgot about her at once. “ Yeah, sure.”

Derrick drew his laptop closer and opened a file. “ He was identified as Jamil Kamil, thirty seven years old, married with four kids; two boys, two girls. We traced his wife. She probably did not know he was behind over six bomb blasts. He was a roadside motorcycle mechanic but became a dealer all of a sudden. He sold spare parts and became one of the biggest dealers in Down City.

He travelled frequently and according to his wife, he was always travelling to buy and distribute goods. That was not true. We dug further and realised that he got his goods from one Mallam Shua’ib who has delivery trucks. So he never travelled to buy goods. He had just one warehouse and shop where he hired boys to distribute his goods. So it was an excuse to have chance to execute his sinister.

His relationship with neighbours and associates was normal. He was described to be nice, gentle and kind. So no one suspected him to be a mass killer. He was believed to be victim of the terrorist attack. We had to break it to his wife. She nearly got physical with our agent who told her he was suspected to have detonated the bomb not until she saw the video clip. He had told her he was going to Lagos but seeing him at the scene of the bomb blast got her weakened. I went to see her myself. She was chastened, disappointed and scared.
Then things began to add up. Things she had seen or heard but never got the quiddity. She said it all started when Mallam Shua’ib appeared. He introduced her husband to spare part dealership which removed them from abject poverty and made them very comfortable. She became apprehensive when Mallam Shua’ib would come very late in the night to discuss with her husband in seclusion. He would call at 2:00 AM but they claimed it just business. She believed Mallam Shua’ib was part of whatever it was. It seems she knows little. We got nothing much from her so we checked on Mallam Shua’ib.

He was said to be out of town. He is rich, has four wives and over thirty kids. We could not question his family members since he is not around and if he gets wind of it, you know what I mean, so we resorted to the streets. Got nothing much except one interesting thing: a day before the bomb blast, Jamil was there to pick a little girl, believed to have been lost but found, to his house.
This was news, so we went back to Jamil’s wife. She said he said the girl was found missing and he was taking her to the police. She was about seven years old…”

“Oh my God,” Kamal said, “ she must have been the girl carrying the bomb.”

“ You get my point. This makes Mallam Shua’ib stink. I have fixed two men to watch his house. Immediately he is spotted, we move in.”

“ Who the hell are these people? What is the motive? They have not made any demand and no one has claimed responsibility for the atrocities.”

“That is the point. Always a dead end.”

“Have you looked at Jamil’s warehouse?”

“We did. Guess what, everything was sold and the money shared to his family members as Islam demands. But that was just a day after he died. They said Mallam Shua’ib bought them…just a day after his death. That is fishy. The warehouse is empty.”

“It is becoming more interesting. It is absurd to sell a deceased property a day after his death. There is more to this.”

“ Absolutely. I can’t wait to lay my hands on him.”

There was a knock at the door before Ann walked in. Kamal admired her structure.

“It’s 8:00 PM,” she said, “ I take my leave .”

“Thanks for the extra time you give.” Derrick said with a gesture.

“It’s my civic duty.” She said, eyed Kamal and left. Before Kamal could make any comment, Derrick’s phone rang. He listened, then he raised his face abruptly

“Mallam Shua’ib is back.” He said. “ Don’t loose him. On my way.” He said into the mouth piece.

“I think I should be on my way” Derrick said.

“And you expect an ATOF officer to stay back. Let’s go, buddy.”

They left the office with alacrity and got on the parking lot.

“ Where is your military jeep?”

“ There.” Kamal pointed at a green coloured jeep parked amid police cars.

“I suggest we go in yours. My boys have one there.”

“ Good.” Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling up at the end of Bukar Bulama street. They alighted and Derrick made a call. “ We are at the end of the street.” He said.

“I am a few hundred yards away from his residence. He went in some minutes ago. I asked Paul to go behind the street in case he got any ideas. “

“ Splendid Serge! I am coming over. I am with Captain Kamal of ATOF.”

“Copy that.”

Derrick nodded at Kamal. “We are good.”

They moved towards the house. Sergeant Tahir was standing, leaning on an electric pole. His alert face was stern as he saluted.

“ You stand here as a back up. Get in touch with Paul. We are going in.” Derrick said.

Tahir looked at Kamal, a bit uncomfortable.

Kamal smiled. “Don’t worry about my uniform. Even in Mufty, we will have to identify ourselves.”

Tahir nodded.

Derrick and Kamal walked towards the gate. It was a large duplex with high fence.

“It seems there is no guard.” Derrick observed. He knocked at the gate, waited, knocked again then the gate was opened. A teenager peeped and showed a startled expression. Kamal was first to smile.

“ Hello, my friend,” he said with friendliness,” we want to speak with your father.”

The boy seemed to relax, and then ran in. There was a little wait before he came back. “He said you can come in.”

“Thank you .”Kamal said, a little surprised how easy it had sounded. They were led into a living room. The large TV showed an Arabic channel. Mallam Shua’ib was sitting on a large mat which was laid on the expensive tiles that decorated the living room. He was short, chubby and bald headed. His face was shaven, except a short chin beard that was grizzled.

He looked fifty or a little less. The mat was filled with of food. In front of him was a plate of Tuwo and vegetable sauce, filled with fresh fish and beef. In another plate was chicken pepper soup cooked with garlic. There was a bowl of fruit salad close to him, a big bottle of table water, a jug of fresh fruit juice and peeled oranges. He lowered the volume of the TV, and then smiled at them, “ you are good farmers ,” he said.

Derrick did not understand what he meant but Kamal did as he was a northerner. It was a way of inviting someone to join you when he met you eating. “ Please join me .”

“ Thank you, Sir. We just had our meal.” Derrick said.

“Please sit down.” Mallam Shua’ib said, “I just returned from a long trip. My hand was in the bowl when I was told two gentlemen were here to see me. I should have ushered you in myself.”

“We understand , sir.” Kamal said. “We apologise for the inconvenience caused.”

“ Not at all. Men in uniform never cause inconvenience. You are most welcome.” His warm attitude disappointed Derrick. It was as if he was expecting them.

“ Yes, gentlemen, how may I help you?” He said after ingesting a morsel and sipped juice.

“ We can wait while you finish your meal.” Derrick said.

“ No, no ..I am a business man and I am used to discussing over meals. I am Mallam Shu’aib MaiKaya. May I know who you are?”

“ I am Detective Derrick. Derrick Etoh from CID and this is Captain kamal Noor from ATOF…”

“ Seems I have got big visitors. I know CID but ATOF, that’s new to me.” Mallam Shua’ib said.

“ Anti-terrorism Operation Force.” Kamal said.

Mallam Shu’aib raised his eyebrow. “ Anti terrorism! That is a big word.” He giggled, took another morsel and threw a chunk of fish in his mouth. “ This food must have been cooked by my first and senior wife. When it comes to cooking, leave it to her, when it comes to baking and frying, my second wife has it. My third wife is a dab hand when it comes to organisation and my last wife….fashion and taking care of me….” he giggled, “ I am not digressing what may I do for you?”

“ We are told Jamil Kamil was your friend.” Derrick began.

“ He was a business associate. May Allah forgive him.” Mallam Shu’aib said, still eating.

“ Did you know how he died?” Derrick went on .

“Yes. He was killed by terrorists in a bomb blast.”

“ He was not killed by the bomb. He was shot at a point far from the bomb blast scene.”

“ Oh…That is new. I must have been told the wrong thing. So the terrorist resorted to shooting after the blast, huh?”

“He detonated the bomb”

“What! Jamil would not do such. “ Mallam Shu’aib said, looking astonished.

“He was caught on camera.”

“ Are you sure?”

“ We are sure.” Derrick replied.

“So, what has that got to do with me?” Mallam Shu’aib said and continued eating. There was no scintilla of guilt or fear on his expression.

Kamal said nothing but studied the man intensively, watching every move he made.

“ Did you know he was going to use a little girl to bomb the complex? ” Derrick went on.

“No.” Mallam Shu’aib replied firmly, pushed the plate of Tuwo away and drew the soup closer to start tearing the chicken meat while he drank the soup.

Did you see him a day or days before the blast?”

“ I can’t remember. I see many people and he was just one of them.”

“ Try to remember, Sir.”

Mallam Shu’aib smiled, took a bite of chicken lap then said, “ I wish I could help you men. I don’t have a log book. I see so many people. Why do you want to know if I saw him before the blast, is that a crime? If you guys are right about his involvement with the blast, how could I have known? He could have come to me before the blast but the only relationship between us was business. I am the major motor cycle spare part dealer in this zone. All the dealers in neighbouring states come to me. That is all.”

“ But you bought his goods and cleared his warehouse just a day after his death.” Derrick went on, yet the man did not shake .

“ That was a favour. You know little about our business. You have a store full of goods with many boys working for you. Even when you are alive, you need to be vigilant to make sure they don’t wreck you. His first child is just eleven years old, so who was going to run the business? Immediately I was told of his demise, I sent for his family members and asked them to take stock. I advised them to sell the goods and buy houses for the beneficiaries. The orphans could live on the rents collected without been cheated. I paid in cash, I’m talking about thirty-three million Naira. So what’s the crime there?”

“ No one has said you have committed any crime.” Kamal said for the first time. “ We want to know about the little girl you handed over to him a day before the bomb blast.”

Mallam Shu’aib went taut and pale for a fraction of second. He chewed the meat faster, before he tried to regain his composure but the law men did not miss it. A new wave of sensation crawled up Kamal’s spine. He had the intuition that he was sitting before one of the insurgents.

“Little girl?” Mallam Shu’aib said with a crinkled face. “Oh…I think I know what you are talking about. It was a little girl about seven who was found wandering on the street and she was brought to me. I did not want her to be endangered so I took her to my house and fed her. When Jamil came, I handed him to her and asked him to take her to the police station. That was the last day I saw him and the next thing I heard was his demise so I don’t know the station he took her to.”

The men realised that some of his confidence had dropped; he was smugly jittery, taking aback by the issue of the little girl.

“ Who found the girl?” Kamal asked.

Mallam Shu’aib pushed the soup away, washed his hands then used a tissue paper to wipe his mouth and hands.

“ I think I am done with this conversation.” Mallam Shu’aib said.

“ I am sorry, Sir, you do not have an option,” Derrick said calmly, “ this is an issue of national security, thousands of lives are been destroyed.”

“ I will have to call my lawyer. I need to take a good rest, I just returned from a long trip. If you may excuse me. We can continue this tomorrow, same time, same place.”

“ You have the liberty to talk to your lawyer,” Said Kamal, “but you have to come along with us for proper questioning. We have substantial reasons to do so.”

Mallam Shu’aib began to perspire. He had not expected it to turn out like this. He knew they would come after him, he was ready for them but the way they came about it got him off his track.

“ Are you arresting me?” He asked.

“We are inviting you to come with us.” Derrick said.

“To honour the invitation is mandatory.” kamal said in a military tone.

“ I need to a see a warrant” Mallam Shu’aib said trying to look unruffled. Kamal got on his feet, his intimidating size and military uniform making him a bugaboo.

“ I am Captain Kamal Noor of ATOF. I have been given the authority to invite, arrest any suspected terrorist, humint or any one engaged in subterfuge. You are coming with us, willingly or unwillingly. You will have the liberty to contact your advocate.” He removed a pistol . “ I will prefer you come along with us without making a scene. If you are innocent, you will be back in one piece. No one has labelled you a criminal. We want to find out about the little girl Jamil used.”

Mallam Shu’aib broke into sweat. He looked at Kamal again then decided not to attract any physical conflict.

“ May I change my clothes?” He asked.

“No” Kamal said firmly. “ You are coming right now. Let’s move.” Kamal glanced at Derrick. “ I think ATOF needs him more.”

“ He is yours.”

“We need to tell your family….” Kamal began .

“No! “ Mallam Shu’aib said firmly. “They would be told later. They are in their quarters.”

They led him out of the living room, passed the front yard, opened the gate and climbed the almost deserted street. It was now a few minutes to 9:00PM .
Derrick called Tahir, “Get the car. Good to go.” But he heard no response. He looked over at the spot where Tahir had been stationed. He was not there. Where was he? Derrick moved forward, and then saw the silhouette of a body on the ground.
Oh No! It was Tahir’s lifeless body in a pool of blood. He was slaughtered in cold blood. At once, he removed his gun.

“He has been slaughtered. There are others.” Derrick said, alarmed and alert. It was at that time they heard gun shots, bullets directed at them.
Derrick docked, crawled and hid behind a tree then fired a shot towards the direction the shot came from. He heard another shot at the same time, from Kamal who had also docked.
Kamal fired two more shots before he heard someone run into a car which was parked in front of a bungalow, a few blocks from them. The person started the car engine but Kamal fired two perfect shots and burst the tyres. The person got out of the car, fired a blind shot then broke into a run but a man standing ahead of him with a gun made him pause.

It was Paul, a policeman, pointing a .33 at him. “Freeze!” Paul shouted, “drop your weapon and hands in the air.”
The man was short, stocky with a broad shoulder. He was holding a sophisticated AK47. From the rays of light that fell on his face, Paul guessed he in his late twenties. Kamal was now behind him, pointing his gun at him. He seemed to be alone.

“Drop your gun, now!” Kamal said harshly. There was a calm expression on the man’s face that worried Paul. He was smiling, looking happy as he dropped the gun. “ You can’t stop us.” He said. “We are unbreakable, untouchable and undeterred.”

“Get him, officer.” Kamal ordered. As Paul moved forward, the man quickly swallowed a pill, and then began to laugh. Kamal moved and punched him from behind but it was too late. He had swallowed the pill and the reaction amazed the law men. The man began to shiver vigorously, shaking violently then began to moan in pains.

His clothes began to burn. His body also burned, producing a repulsive stench that made Paul want to puke. They watched his body turn into ashes after the virulent reaction from the pills.

“ What the hell was that?” Paul asked in a whisper.

Kamal twitched his lip, his palm on the butt of his gun. He knew they were facing a sect that was determined, dangerous and ruthless. A birth of gargantuan beast in Borno State!

Derrick was behind them.

“ Mallam Shu’aib was the target. The bullets killed him. He is dead.” Said Derrick.

Waoooooo, another blockbuster from the king of words.


Sooooooo following.

wow. Well done OP. Good job.

FOUR

Beeba Bukar closed the door gently behind her, aware that the GM was starring after her; she walked briskly to her office which she shared with her colleague.
She was twenty-nine years old, tall and chubby. Her round face was attractive with sharp features but it was her voluptuous body, with a round broad hips that made men go bunkers.
She was always properly dressed, using veils and avoiding skimpy clothes but somehow, those feminine features would accentuate.
She grimaced, heaved a sigh and dropped her balk on the swivel chair behind her desk and buried her face in her palms.
Her colleague looked at her, frowned and dropped his ballpoint.

“What is wrong? Did he let hell loose again?”

She said nothing, still trying to compose herself.

“ He hates me.” She said. “And he would never fail to find the chance of humiliating me, frustrating me and make life a living hell for me. Can you imagine what he said? He says I am worthless. I am nothing but an exacerbating factor to the firm. I don’t know what to do. I feel like resigning. He knows I need the job so he does whatever he wants!”

Her colleague, Mangal Muhammad was twenty-five years old. He was a tall, brawny, sturdy and handsome man with very dark hair and eyebrow. His conk was hooked, sitting above firm lips amid an aggressive jaw. He had sleepy eyes which was too white for a man of his age with very dark iris.
Dressed in a fawn blue stripped shirt which he tucked into cream coloured chinos pants which a black leather Calvin Klein belt held.
His beards was well carved and it seemed he cut his hair daily because no one could tell if he had a new hair cut or not. It was always looking the same. He was a man who took a great care about his looks.

He had been working for the company for three years while she had been with them for five years.

“ He does not like my face either but it seems he hates you more. What the hell is his problem?” He said.

She took in a deep breath, with her face still buried in her palms, she said hesitantly, “ he hates you because he hates me.”

Mangal frowned.

“ How?”

“ I never told you this but…he has been flirting with me.”

“ What?”

She raised her face, showed an imaginary ring, “ I told him I was happily married and have never thought of cheating on my husband. I can never do that. He began to say things like ‘ what the hell am I talking about? He did not ask me out, blab, blab, blab. That was the day the hate game started. He said I was trying to tarnish his image. I was glad he got the message so he stopped but he is bent on making this place a hell for me.”

“ Oh my God! I mean, he knew you were married. Why on earth should someone think of dating a married woman? Okay, what is my crime?”

She drew her laptop closer, pushed it back a bit and heaved. She was obviously flummoxed.

“ He thinks there is something between us. Can you imagine that?”

“Subahanallah! Does he think everyone is like him? Why should he think of such a thing?”

She knew why. Mangal was someone she trusted. She always confided in him. She told him things she never told her female friends because she was sure he would keep her secrets.
He had always advised her positively even when it had to do with her marital affairs. She was four years older than him and she saw him as a younger brother.
He was always there for her during work. He would cover for her, help her do some of her assignments and put her through some things she do not comprehend. This association made the GM thought there was something more to it. Now he hated Mangal out of jealousy. What a fool! Feeling jealous over another man’s wife.

“ Maybe he feels you cover for me.” She said. She did not want to talk about the suspicion. It was repulsive and did not want to even talk about it.

“ Okay, I am going to his office right now and give him a piece of my mind. I don’t take bullshit!” He said and got up angrily. “ Why would I not cover for a sister? What the hell is his business with that. Excuse me…..”

“Stop it Mangal! You will do nothing of such. That man is vindictive and savage. Let him be.”

“ No.” He left angrily. She tried to stop him, almost held him by his shirt before she remembered that he was her non-muharam and then stopped. “ Mangal ! Mangal! Don’t be stupid.”

He left and banged the door.

What got into him? He was a calm man full of perseverance. Why the sudden outburst? Why did she tell him?
She sat on the desk. She could not go after him. They may lose their jobs and they both needed the jobs.

“ Did you really think I had the guts to go to him?” Mangal said as he peeped. “ If I had gone to his office, it would have been to go and greet him again.”

She felt a big relieve.

“You are crazy Mangal” She chuckled. “You got me on that one.”

“I thought I was not going to play any prank on anyone today.” He said and walked in.

“Oh my God! Today is 1st of April.” She used her palm to dab her forehead. “You got me on that one. I was scared dude.”

“But we need to pray over this guy. Maybe we will just wake up and find him transferred to somewhere else.”

“I have been doing that. I told my husband about him. He said I should do the right thing and never let him get to me.”

“ Your husband is right but when someone hates you, he looks for just a slight mistake you make, and unfortunately, we not impeccable. We would always make mistakes. Did you tell your husband why he hates you?”

She nodded.

“ I did. I had to tell someone and he was the best person to tell. He trusts me though but I wanted him to confront him.”

“ He would not do that. He did not ask you out directly. He was only flirting, trying his luck while seeing what your reaction would be like. When you told him that you were married, he said he was not asking you out. If he could tell you that, what would he tell your husband? He has been fixed. He won’t flirt with you again but the problem is the hate. We have got no choice other than to commit it to prayers and play safe. This job is all I have.”

“I know right. How is Mama doing?”

He shrugged.

“Praise be to God.” He said. “I am moving her to Noorul-Izzah Hospital, Sharada later.”

“ Ya Allah! May Allah recuperate her sooner than anticipated.”

“ Ameen.” He said and felt his eyes going wet. “ I just pray she dies as a monotheist, forgiven soul and one who is going to a better place.”

“ Ameen.” She said and frowned. “ You sound like…..”

“ She has a cancer.” He said.

“ Oh my God!”

“ But I will never give up on her.”

“ You can’t give up on her. It’s not a death sentence. I am sorry about what you are going through.”

“Thank you.”

It was at that point the door burst open without a knock. A short, fat man with a very thick neck came in.
He saw the look of affection on her face, as if she wanted to hold Mangal. Maybe they were about to make out. This stupid boy was having what he wanted. He knew what he was going to do.

“ I am sorry, I barged in to disrupt. I did not know you were having an unofficial time.”

“ Excuse me Sir.” Beeba said, “ His mother is on the sickbed……”

“You don’t owe me an explanation. I need you to get this to our external auditor. You must wait for the rectification because we have a board meeting tomorrow and I must present this. I told him to expect you.” He dropped a file on her desk. “I will be glad if you leave now, and postpone whatever is going on here for another time. This is very important. As you can see, I brought this personally and that shows how important it is.”

“ Okay Sir.” She said, realising there was no need to explain further. “ who exactly am I going to meet?”

“ Have you forgotten who the external auditor is?” He vituperated. “ The chattered accountant, Musa Rano.”

“Okay Sir.”

“I wonder if you are good at anything.” He said and walked out angrily.

Mangal’s face crinkled.

“Was he trying to insinuate that we were in a kind of debauchery mood?”

She shook her head.

“I never told you that because it feels so repulsive. He thinks we are dating.”

“ It is established. He is sick. You better leave now.”

She grimaced, looked at her wristwatch.

It is 3:05 PM already. We are talking about auditing corrections here. That would take at least three hours. I may not get back home until around 7:00 PM. I am a married woman with two kids for crying out loud.”

“ Call your husband.” Mangal said. “Implore with him to meet you there.”

She thought about it and nodded. She called him and he picked before she told him.

“I don’t think that will be a big deal.” The husband said. “I will leave office immediately after 4:00 PM but would have to see my mechanic. I think you will be okay. Just bear with him until I get you another job. I talked to Hameed about you ever since you told me about your boss. If things had not gone so bad, you would have just established your business.”

“ It is qadr. I pray you will bounce back, stronger and bigger insha Allah.”

“ Ameen.”

“ I will tell Sadiya to boil rice. There is sauce in the freezer.”

“Okay, dear. Take care of yourself for me.”

“Sure, My Love.”

The call ended. Mangal saw her blushing.

“ He has to fix his car.” She said. “ And my car is also faulty.”

“I wonder why we are not given official cars.”

“ In this firm, only the top officers are given official cars.” She said. “ Buy your car or you are on your own.”

“ So what are you going to do?”

“ Public transport is the only means and Sharada is a distance from here.”

“But you can’t use your personal money for this. They should make arrangement. The driver should take you there.”

“I don’t want him to shout at me.”

“We would not allow fear make him step on us just the way he likes. What you are doing is tantamount to over time as they call it. He is not thanking you and no extra pay. You can’t do that at your expense. If you can’t talk to him, I swear I will.”

She looked at him and saw the seriousness in his eyes.

“I will talk to him. Let me do that via phone.”

“Please do.”

She used the landline phone on her desk.

“Sir, my car is bad and I am finding it hard to get myself there. I would also need to go home from there and it may be late. As a woman….”

“Do not bother me with complains. The driver is not around. Okay, let your man drive you there but he must return the car today, no matter how late it is and park it before he goes home.”

“My man?”

“Your colleague. Mangal.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I do not appreciate you calling him my man. I am a respected married woman…..”

“Tell him to come for the key.” He cut in and dropped the call.

She pressed the mouthpiece in anger.

“I can’t wait to get another job.” She said. “ I am sorry…”

“Sorry about what?”

“It did not go as planned. The driver is not around and he wants you to go with me, and you must bring back the car today before you leave.”

“Damn! That should be around 8:00PM.”

“I got you into this.”

“ No. I asked you to call him. I am just worried about my mother, plus, Hafsat says she wants to see me.”

“I think I should just go.”

“No. Let me get the key.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way. It was while they got close to junction it happened. It was so fast and surreal. The car had slowed down, and out of nowhere someone appeared and showed Mangal a gun. Another one came out of another car and opened the back door of the car and got in. The two men got inside the car and said, “If you shout, I will shoot you. Now, be a good boy and follow that red car.”

Isa Hamza came out the car and waited. His caftan was worn carelessly, and he just realised that he had forgotten his cap at home.
The thirty seven year old man was jittery, befuddled and lassitude. It was a few minutes after 10:00PM. He tried her number again but it was now switched off. He had been to Sharada, to the Account Firm only to be told that his wife never came there.

It was late so by the time he went to her place of work, he met only the security guards. He asked for the address of the GM but they asked him to come back the next day because they would not do that. It was only after he identified himself he was given the phone number.
He had called the GM and demanded to see him. Now he was waiting outside his house. On his way there, he had called at a police station to give a formal report.

Isa was so lost in thoughts he was not aware that the GM had come out his house and was already standing before him.

“Good evening.” The Gm greeted with an extended hand. They shook hands but Isa felt a wave of dislike flowing through him.

“ Good evening, Alhaji Gambo. I am Isa Baballiya. I am Beeba’s husband.’

“ It is a pleasure to meet you. I am highly perturbed and astonished. Like I told you on the phone, I simply sent her to make some corrections on an auditing result which I am supposed to present tomorrow during a board meeting.”

“ So there is no clue to what has happened? There is no trace of her. Her phone has been switched off, and she did not even get to the place. I am more astonished because you said they left around 3 :00PM.”

“Yes. We have on record because they used an official car. This is mysterious. Have you tried his number?”

“ His number? Whose number?”

Gambo made a face that made him look more repulsive to Isa.

“ Her colleague. The assignment was primarily hers. He is not the driver but he drove the car.”

“I don’t get your point.”

Gambo showed hesitation.

“They are very close and she never feels secured if he is not around. They left together.”

“Why did you not call him? I don’t even know him. How do I get his number? You ought to have called him, Alhaji Gambo.”

“You don’t know him? I thought you were kind of related because of their level of closeness.”

“Tell me exactly what you are trying to insinuate. My wife is missing Alhaji Gambo.”

“I believe they are together. That is why I thought of calling him. I think I have his number. Let me try.”

Isa called Mangal.

He shook his head slightly.

“They both switched off their phones.”

“Okay, if you are trying to give me the impression that my wife is out there with a man, I would be very angry with you. I trust my wife and if there is anyone I don’t trust, it is you because your attitude this night just spoke volumes about you and substantiates what she has been telling me about you.”

“Telling you about me? What has she been saying?”

“You know what I am talking about. I hope there is nothing fishy going on here because I will not rest until I get to the root of it. I am beginning to get suspicious.”

“I understand how you feel right now……”

Isa left him in a fit of pique.

It was the third day Isa received a call.

“Hello.”

“Good evening Mr Isa Hamza. We have news about your wife. Listen carefully.

FIVE

The room was small, stuffy and murky. The walls were made of steel which told the inmates that it was a shipping container.
There were two tiny windows made at the top. This was the only source of light during day time. This was where Mangal and Beeba had been kept imprisoned for three days.
They had no idea of who their abductors were or why they were abducted. The container was an intermodal container so one part was converted into a toilet with a pit latrine.

“My children….” Beeba whispered, after days of crying.“I doubt if I will ever see them again. Only God knows what Abu Haneef is going through.”

“Hmmm….”

“And your mother.” She said. “I hope they do not tell her.”

Mangal heaved.

“I was supposed to transfer her to another hospital which coincidentally not too far from the account office. I wonder how she is doing now.”

“It’s been three days and we don’t know why we are here. I hope we are not objects of ritualism.”

“I hope so.”

They heard a clicking sound and the strong metal door was tugged, before a beam of light flashed on them.
The two men who had abducted them came in. The beam could only let them see the silhouettes of the kidnappers. They had being brought here only after they were blindfolded.
The two men stood without saying a word for a few seconds. The one holding the flashlight kept the beam on Beeba, looking hungrily at her body.

“Our boss wants to talk to you.” He said. “He is on his way.”

Beeba and Mangal said nothing. Her heart was beating rapidly and the movement of her chest which was caused by fear seemed to amuse the man holding the flashlight.

“Assalamu alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu.” A soft voice emerged before a man came in. He was tall, slim and wore just a simple white jallabiya.

They could not see his features except his silhouette. Mangal and his boys replied to his greeting.

“I seek refuge from Allah from the evil one, and pray for guidance and blessing.” He continued. “I come in peace. You can simply call me Sabr. I am sorry that you have been here for three days and I have not come to see you.
It is part of our culture to let our guest rest for three days before we talk to them. I am sure you have been fed and no one has touched the woman. Haram! We don’t do that. We cannot resort to the atrocities we are trying to obliterate.
I guess you wonder why you were invited here. Actually, it is nothing that has to do with personal issue. May I know your name, young man?”

“ Mangal Muhammad.”

“Allahu akhbar! What a nice name. Masha Allah.”

“What about your wife?”

“She is not my wife.”

“Your sister perhaps.”

“We are colleagues. We work at the same place.” Beeba said. “ My name is Beeba Bukar.”

Even though they could not see Sabr, it seemed the revelation astonished him.

“Where do you work?”

“Shatoo Plastic Company” Mangal replied.

“Hmmm…..We saw your ID cards. I thought you were going to lie to me. I hate liars. That is a sin. Did you know that I am a graduate? I studied Business Administration. These two here are also graduates. But look at us. We have no jobs. You know why? Because the system is addled. I have lost job opportunities because I am not a woman. I lost many because I have no one upstairs. This cannot go on. We cannot go on like this. We have to do something. And that is what we are doing. We have to change the system. The government is wicked and we have to stop them.
Now we are creating employments. Did you know that the Toyota Hilux we got from you helped a lot of people? We called a painter who changed its colour. We called in a mechanic who dismantled the engine and sold it parts to spare part dealers. With what we made, we added some amount and bought a new engine. No one can trace the car.
We created jobs for all of these people. We will sell the car and share the money. You see how helpful we are? By doing this, we are helping the nation by reducing the number of those in labour market.

Now, I will call your husband and demand for money.” He turned at Mangal. “ Are you married?”

“No.”

“Who are your family members?”

“I have always been an only child and I lost my father since I was ten. The only person I have is my mother.”

“What killed your father?”

“He died in Liberia. He was a military man.”

“You must have been given millions of naira.”

“No. Some of his entitlements are still pending.”

“You see? Now you can see what I am talking about. He died for the country and they still owe him. We must change the system. We will call your mother.”

“She is sick. I am the one taking care of her. She is currently in hospital.”

“Are you saying there is nobody to pay your ransom?”

“Is that what this is all about? Are you kidnappers?”

“I seek refuge with Allah from evil. Kidnapping is a strong word. We are not kidnappers. We are Gentlemen of the society. We are trying to balance wealth and morality. Please do not use such a dangerous word again.”

“I do not have anybody to pay for me. I am the one who takes care of my mother.”

“Oh no. I feel so bad for you. It is pathetic and I get emotional when I hear things like this. May Allah ease it for you, may He extricate you. Can we recite Alamnashara for him? Okay, we will do that later. I have an idea. I will kill you, and your mother will die quicker and save the pains. What do you think? …you don’t have to think. That is the best thing to do. Your case is closed.”

Sabr turned at his man.

“Give me her phone.” He said. “What name did you use in saving your husband’s number? Honey, Sweetheart, My Love, Baban baby, what?”

“Abu Haneef.”

Sabr searched while he began to recite a portion of The Holy Qur’an. He was doing very bad things and yet, using religion and morality to justify them. What kind of Islam was he practicing?

The line connected. Sabr saw his name because of the caller’s ID.

“Hello.”

“Good evening Mr Isa Hamza. We have news about your wife. Listen carefully……..”

Oh no Magal

Interesting read. Following!!

Mufty stood in the darkness, knowing he was completely hidden. He began to move with stealth, watching carefully as the man he stalked walked carelessly. He knew the line has been drawn. He was taking a step of no return. He had to find Leena.
The man he was stalking was tall, broad shouldered with very bushy moustache. He was walking hurriedly down a narrow footpath, moving away from the cluster of cabins, and down the bushy part with trees he went.
He had no idea that Mufty was coming after him. Satisfied that he was far away, he put on his flashlight and sat on a stone which he usually sat on.
Mufty watched him bring out a wrap of cannabis from his pocket, with shaky hands, he lit it; dragged smoke with a force and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

“Masha Allah.” He said with satisfaction. Life was good here.
He had free meals, ate a lot of meat, married a girl with ease, and got paid after each operation. This was far better than his humdrum life in Patiskum.
Marriage was very expensive in Borno State and he could not afford one. Now, he got his first wife after they invaded an all-girls secondary school. He got his second wife after they invaded a village close to Bama.
Now he had two wives. This insurgency must not stop. There was much to gain.
He was enjoying the herb. He felt as if he was flying, and he could feel an imaginary sound of music, and voices from above. This was good.

“Kacha.” He heard a voice from behind. He turned swiftly to see Mufty standing behind him. There was something about Mufty that sent a chill through nerves. He was not just taciturn, but mean. His expertise in killing, which earned him the rank of the best sniper in the house, made them fear him. No one knew much about him.

“You almost scared me. I just want to chase bad spirits away.”

“How?”

“Bad spirits do not like ganja. I also need to clear my head so I can worship Allah better. Plus, I have two wives and it helps me perform better.”

“Hmmm….you have two wives. I had one.”

It now dawned on Kacha that Mufty was brooding and that was not good. But he could not see any weapon on him. He was not sure Mufty could match him in a bare-hand fight.

“I am sorry about that. It was the Amir’s decision. You know that, right. He never liked the knot. We feel he wanted her for himself……”

“You are part of those who transported them.”

Kacha was shocked to hear that.

“Who told you that?”

“I found out.”

“I don’t think that is true.”

“What you think does not matter. Where did you drop them?”

“Mufty……who told you that?”

“Kacha, talk to me now. Where did you drop them?”

“You know we don’t let that out. You know the rules better than me. You are a high ranking jihadist.”

“Licking my boots?”

“Amir will kill me.”

“How can he kill a dead person? You will be dead if you don’t tell me.”

“You will kill me if I tell you.”

“Not today. I cannot kill you here. If you don’t tell anyone, nothing will happen to you…..” But kacha had plans. H swung his hand which had a knife. Mufty was expecting a move from him.
When Kacha realised that he had missed, he knew there was going to be trouble. He had only one choice: Shout .
He had barely opened his mouth when he felt an impact on his throat. For a spilt second, he thought it was a knife that was used to slit his throat.
That was a professional move from Mufty who was also a martial artiste. Kacha saw a gun pointed at him.

“Talk.” Mufty said. “I swear, if you raise your voice, I will kill you and vanish.”

“You can’t kill me here….”

“Do you want to try me?” Mufty showed him the knife that dropped from Kacha’s hand. “It would be fun to kill you with your knife.”

“We dropped them at Kamtun Bwalla.”

“I am given you the last chance. You know you cannot lie to me.”

“Okay, promise that you will not say I told you.”

“Now that is childish. Who needs more secrecy more than me? I want to get my wife back. Do not take it personally.”

“Okay. We dropped them at Darul HaQ station. They are to be taken to Nurul-Madina barracks before being dispatched to various husbands.”

Mufty felt more disgusted. What a barbaric sect he had been with. Did anyone ever imagine what these girls felt? Could anyone imagine the constant pain their family members felt?

“Who did you hand them to?”

“Commander Sha’aban.”

“Have you ever thought of the evil we are committing?”

“Mufty! We are on a jihad. Do not blaspheme. We are cleansing the world. The world needs us. Please do not let the love for your wife make you derail.”

“Jihad is when you kidnap and constantly rape the two girls in your possession? Jihad is when you have no scintilla of empathy for them? or think of how they feel? how their parents feel? I heard it all from the Sheikh we murdered. Jihad is when you kill people at random? rustle cattle and eat beef?
You said the world needs you. Let me tell you one thing the world needs right now….to have one terrorist out of the world…..”

Phooop!

It happened within the twinkle of an eye. The knife passed through Kacha’s throat and he went down, wriggling in pain.
Mufty jumped back to avoid blood stain. He went and carried a big stone, moved to Kacha and smashed it on his head. That made his death come quicker.

“That is called cleansing.” Mufty said. He walked to a part of the bush where he hid a digger and shovel. He had a burial to do.

SIX

Kamal stood before a dressing mirror and fixed the buttons of his Calvin Klein shirt which he wore over brown Feliraro khaki. He tucked in the shirt to expose his leather Bacucci belt. Wearing a brown rimless Dunhill glasses, he looked at his Gucci shoes and felt he looked swell. He opened a locker and brought out a bundle of five hundred naira notes, counted it: fifty thousand naira. That was more than enough for the night.
Leaving his bedroom, picking his car keys from the living room, he went out and locked the door. He had taken his 406 Peugeot to the car wash in the afternoon and it looked immaculately clean now. He was ready for the date. Ann amused him. There was something about her that tickled his fancy. She had this infectious smile, captivating eyes, and personality that intrigued him.

He had not felt this excited for long. He got into the car, put his Smitt and Wesson in the pigeon hole, made sure he had a good number of bullets, he started the car engine and drove out to climb General Ladipo Boulevard. Driving past the General Chris Avenue which housed top officers, he arrived the gate which was heavily guided by military men.
A corporal saluted, “ mon Sir”
Kamal replied, removed two five hundred naira notes and gave the soldier. The soldier saluted again. “I will be there when you will be decorated as a General.”

Kamal smiled, nodded and drove off as the gate was opened for him. He drove straight to Kalem Street where she had told him to pick her up. She said she had to see her aunt and would be there till 7:00PM. He arrived there three seconds before seven and saw her come out of a beauty salon. He pulled up the car by the roadside, came out of the car and walked to her.
She smiled as she saw him. That smile! She looked like a celebrity on the red carpet. Her red skinny gown was glittering, matching with a red designer bag and shoes. He did not know much about women jewelleries, but he knew that her necklace and earring was nothing close to a faux.

“ You look stunning, Princess.” He said with a smile.

“Thank you. In uniform, you are dashing; out of uniform, you are a model.”

“ Thank you, Princess. May we.”

“Oh, sure.”

They walked slowly to his car. He hoped she was impressed.

“Nice car.” she commented.

“Thank you.”

He opened the passenger’s door for her while he went behind the wheel.
He started the car engine and set the car in motion.

“How long have you been with the CID?”

“A year. Mind you I am not a cop. I am a civilian working with the police.”

“I know. What difference does it make? You serve the purpose. I have heard of your ambidexterity when it comes to IT. Policing is all about fighting crime and keeping the citizens save and that exactly what you have been doing .I wish you were with us.”

“You mean ATOF?”

“Yeah. We have this guy behind the system and I see nothing special about him. Just very normal. We need a genius.”

“ Then I should have been the wrong pick.”

“I am not licking your boots, but I have heard about your works. We work closely with the CID, DSS and other agencies.”

“Is this supposed to be about my transfer to ATOF?”

“ No, Princess. It’s about been with someone special and damn me for bringing work into it. I am an….”

“ You don’t have to be hard on yourself. I know how it feels when you are surrounded by unsolved mysteries. The insurgency is biting. Suicide bombing and kidnapping are all new to Nigerians. We only used to see them in movies or news .”

Kamal sighed.

“You are right. We should talk about something else. I am out of uniform, so I should be out of work…for a while. I am human after all. Been on this for two years and nothing is coming out of it. Beginning to feel I have failed this country.”

She put her hand on his, “ You haven’t. You are not the only ATOF officer. You guys are much, why take the heat?”

“I am heading an Intelligence team, with plenty access and resources at my disposal but nothing substantial has come out of it. Too many dead ends.”

“The insurgents seems to be well prepared. It looks like a well-planned, long nursed sinister but there will be a mistake. I hear they commit suicide when about to be apprehended.”

“ Yes. I wonder what substance is that. Our forensic experts are still working on it.”

“ We are there, slow down.”

Kamal pressed his foot on the gas pedal, decelerated then put on the traffic signal to make a turn off the main road.

“ Okay,” he said putting on a smile, “ no more talk about it….for now. Don’t want to ruin my appetite.”

He pulled up at a parking space ushered by a security man. They alighted, walked towards the main entrance. Ally’s was a big restaurant owned by an American business man. He had opened it five years ago to serve the Americans who worked for an oil company, oil explorers and tourists. Soon it became a hot spot for natives who loved American and European food . It had branches in five states of the federation and became an instant success. There were dozens of customers, mostly couples sitting at various tables, eating and drinking. They found and sat at a table, and a smiling black waitress walked up to them. Ann did not bother to look at the menu. It seemed she knew what they had so Kamal asked her to make the order.

She looked at the waitress and said, “Let me have chicken parmigiana. I mean one with mozzarella, parmesan and tomato sauce, Lobster Newburg and a 1939 Cabernet sauvignon.”

The waitress nodded after taking notes, then turned at Kamal expectantly.

“I will go for carne alla pizzaiola with rice, coleslaw made with mayonnaise and chilled raspberry frost sodas.”

The waiter nodded and left.

“This is my first time here.” Kamal confessed.

“Do you have a problem with American food.?”

“No. I had problems with time and…..the motivating factor .”

“Do you need a motivator to eat?”

“I usually cook or get food from the nearest restaurant. Coming here hardly cross my mind. Only been to the States once and spent just six months on a course. I was a second lieutenant then. I was born and raised in Nigeria.”

“Tell me more about yourself.”

“Nothing special to say. I was just a normal kid from a family of six and the fourth child of a retired Colonel and a Biology mistress. Born and raised in Kaduna, attended Nigeria Defence Academy and graduated as an engineer, Mechanical to be precise; had my Masters in Strategic Studies and here I am, with the most beautiful woman on Earth.”

She blushed. “ I am flattered. Thank you. “She looked at him. “ Why military?”

“ Always had the dream. As a child, I loved kiddies military uniforms, toy guns and war films. I was nicknamed Soldier Boy, but as I grew older, I developed a passion to serve my country even if my contribution is not felt, at least I would feel nice trying.”

“ So you decided to take the hard job. From Peace keeping to ATOF. I mean the action part.”

“I did not opt for that part. But as a soldier, we take any task that comes. So…..”

They were interrupted by the arrival of their orders. The food looked good with scintillating aroma.
They began to eat. Ann was served her red wine. Kamal took a spoon of pizzaiola, chewed then nodded with approval. “You made the right choice. Cally’s is good.”

She smiled. “ The next time we come, I would recommend their mouth-watering snacks. Their recipes are next to none.”
They spent the next twenty thirty minutes enjoying their food and drinks. Kamal fell in love with the place: so serene and romantic . He felt nice to be with her and he enjoyed every moment spent with her.
A few minutes later, they were on their way back. He was taking her home.

“I had a wonderful evening. Thank you for making me feel life.”

“The pleasure is mine. Same here.”

He smiled and then turned the car to a boulevard.

Out of a street, a man dressed in white caftan and cap, crossed the main road carelessly before a sound of gunshot emerged. A ricocheting bullet hit him. He screamed aloud and fell on the ground, rolling until he dropped into a gutter. Kamal pressed his foot on the brake pedal at once, the tyres screeched, producing sputtering sparks, and the car was forced to a halt . Ann screamed in trepidation. Kamal saw the silhouette of a short stocky man holding a gun. He was trying to cross the road to finish the man in the gutter. Kamal opened his pigeon hole and removed his Smith and Wesson.

“Stay back,” he said to her , “ I need to see this.”

“ May peace be upon you and your entire family.” Sabr said softly through the mouthpiece. “May Allah protect and guide us. I said I have news about your wife. Praise is to Allah, she is alive, sound and safe….for now. I do not want to talk too much. She saved your number as Abu Haneef. May Allah bless Haneef. May he not lose his mother today, or tomorrow. I just want to give you the good news that you will see your wife again if you wish.
All you need to give us is ten million naira only. We need this money before Friday which is two days from now.
A lot of people try to involve the police. That is very bad for them. They only end up losing their loved once but this is my take. They involve the police because they don’t love them.
It is just possible you are tired of her; you are looking for an excuse to get rid of her. This is your chance to do that. Just tell the police and she is dead. And then you can marry another woman. But if you still love her, just listen to us and comply….”

“ There is no way he can raise such an amount.” Beeba said.

“Please talk to your wife. I want you to know we are not lying. We have her here. Why should I lie? Lying is haram.”

Sabr gave the phone to Beeba.

“ Beeba.” Isa called excitedly.

“ Abu…..”

Twai!

The sound of the slap Sabr gave her pierced through the phone and hit Isa’s ear drum. Beeba let out a loud scream that shook not just her husband but Mangal.

Sabr snatched the phone from her.

“ May Allah forgive us all.” He said softly. “ I am very sorry for what just happened. She said there was no way you could raise that kind of money and I felt a woman should not interfere when men are talking. We must teach our women morality because of our children. I hope you understand. It was for the good.”

Beeba was still crying, and she felt as if it was an acid he poured on her cheek.

“Please Sir, don’t touch her.” Isa begged. “ The truth is I lost my goods a few months ago. I am in a financial crisis. Sometimes she supports us with her salary….”

“Innalillahi wa innalillahi raji’un. I am so sorry about your loss. That is why you have properties. Sell your house but let me advise you, be very careful with those real estate agents.
Let me tell you a story. There was a military man who was in need of money. He contracted some agents to sell the house at the rate of twenty million naira. He told them that he needed money desperately.
Just two days later, somebody offered forty million naira. The agents refused to sell the house. They will not sell it anything less than forty-five million.
The house was not sold for more than two months. On this fateful day, the military man went to the house to check on it. Incidentally, the man that wanted the house went there to show his friend, seeking for advise if to add the five million naira. When he saw the military man, he greeted him and asked if he just bought the house.
The military man said no; he said he was the owner. the man told him that he offered forty million naira about two months ago but the agents said the least they can collect is forty-five million naira.
The military man was perplexed. He said there was no problem. He would sell it at that rate. Lawyers were called and the deal was sealed.
The next day, the military man asked the agents to let him have the keys. He said he forgot his and wanted to get some things.
He collected the keys and gave it to the new owner before he told them that he has sold the house to the man who offered forty million naira.
The agents were mad. They took the case to court. The military man won the case. The agents went back to their office to brood. They did not just lose twenty million naira, plus their ten per cent commission from both sides, which made a total of twenty-four million naira, they also lost the money they used to process the case and hire a lawyer, and lost their time and effort.
As they sat brooding, they saw a truck of soldiers and a set brutal looking soldiers alighted.
It was not funny. You need to see men made to frog jump and got whipped…..” Sabr laughed. “You see why you must not rely on them. Get someone to buy it. make it cheap and you will get a buyer very soon. I am just advising you.”

“Please Sir.” Isa pleaded. “I can source for five hundred thousand naira.”

Sabr laughed.

“Haba! Do you know how much AK47 cost now? We feed them, give them shelter, protect them. Think about logistics. This is business and we are meant to make profit. People think what they call kidnapping is easy. We take a lot of risk so the ransom should worth it. You have to be considerate Mallam Isa. Okay, make it nine point five million.”

“Please….”

“ I will call you in the next one hour so we can talk about how to deliver the money. That is one very delicate part that is difficult. We have to make sure you are not with cops, we are not followed and a lot of other things. Goodbye Mallam Isa.”

He disconnected the line and then glared at Mangal. “You have no one to pay for you. I swear to God! I will kill you. May Allah forgive your sins. I think the meeting is over. Let us close the meeting with prayers…..” He began to pray.

Then it happened.







Kamal held his pistol, pointed it at the stocky man who was a few hundred yards away from him.

“Hold it right there!” He said with a hard voice. “Drop your weapon.”

The stocky man had other ideas. He fired a shot at Kamal. He had expected it so he docked and fired a shot at the same time.
The stocky man dropped on the ground. Before Ksmal could take another shot, the man swallowed a pill and began to wiggle in pain, shaking vigorously as he got burnt while he shouted.

Kamal moved cautiously towards him. He was dead.

The man who was being chased was still lying in a state of shock. Kamal moved to him.

“Who are you?”

“I am Alarama Saheed.”

“Who was he and did he attack you?”

“I don’t know. They killed my Mallam, sheikh Jabir. I was his reciter of the holy Qur’an. The police have not told us if they knew the exact reason he was killed. I barely escaped that night.”

“I know about it. I did not recognise you. Are you hurt?”

“Not much. Just some bruises.”

“We must leave this place now. You were always with Mallam everywhere he went to preach. I will need a serious talk with you.”

“Thank you for saving my life. Who are you, Sir?”

“I am Captain Kamal of ATOF.”

I'm glad Mufti is seeing things from another point of view. Nice job SokoDobo.

It happened so quickly. Mangal sent a heavy fist and smacked the man holding the flashlight. The punch was so heavy and unexpected the man blundered into the wall.
Almost simultaneously, he sent his long leg to hit the second man in the belly. He had it calculated. They were shocked to see that he had one of the guns.
He had to show them that he was serious and capable. He pulled the trigger and shot one of the men in the leg.

“Nobody moves.” He warned, holding the gun with one hand and the flashlight with the other hand. “ Hands up and do not try any wrong move.”

“You are making a great mistake.”

“The only mistake I will make is not fighting to leave here. You are an idiot! A dangerous criminal acting like a pious man. Now move over there.”

The man that was shot was still whimpering in pains.

“You cook up excuses to become a criminal. Do you think you are making fun of religion?”

The two men reluctantly moved to an end of the room. Mangal was very alert, watching them carefully. He walked backwards, with Beeba behind him.

“Where is the key to this place.”

“There is no key.” The second man said.

Mangal sent a bullet into his thigh. He screamed and fell down. They knew he was not joking.

“I need our phones. Madam, go and pick them.”

She went and picked the phones.

Immediately Mangal sent the beam of light to Sabr’s face ,he covered his face and turned around. Mangal fired another shot and Sabr shouted,

“ My fear!”

“Let’s go.” Mangal said aloud and they went out with alacrity, leaving the men inside. There was a bolt outside the door. Mangal bolted the door and realised that they were in a forest.
It was dark and cold. They could see nothing but grasses, shrubs and trees. He wondered how they got phone service there.
They did not know where to run to, or the direction to take. What mattered most was leaving this place alive.
They saw no car. There was another cabin a few yards away from the container. He hesitated. What if there were others? Then they heard a gunshot. The men still had another gun and they were shooting at the door.

Mangal could not believe his eyes when he saw a bike parked by the side of the cabin.
He ran to the bike, broke the ignition, and exposed some wires. He could hear them shooting.
He joined two wires and started the bike. He asked her to get on it and he rode away. He had not gone far when he heard the door burst open.
They were out. No. it was just Sabr. He was bleeding but he looked so determined.

Mangal fired a blind shot, Sabr docked and before he could regain his balance, the bike had vanished.
Mangal rode on the low grasses, not having a specific direction.
Having moved a distance, he pulled up.

“Why did you stop?” Beeba asked, alarmed.

“We will hide here for a while.”

“Why? What if they come for us?”

“We may get lost for life if we go blindly. We may still die if we get out of gas. We have nothing, no shelter or food.”

“So?”

“I will go back there. Not using the bike.”

Her eye widened.

“That is crazy! They will kill you and I will die here.”

“No. They will not come after us. They know we have our phones. They won’t not take chances. They will run away for the fear of police. That is my bet. Life is a game of risk and I must take this.”

She did not like this even though it made some sense.

“But I can’t stay here alone.”

“We will wait for an hour or more. We will go back.”