SokoDobo:
This is the first time I will be sharing our writing on this forum. We are working towards publishing some of our books, so we want to get feedback from the public before doing so.

A Bellan Fiction Books 2018. All rights reserved.

ONE

Eyes bored into her.
She was attractive and she knew how to flaunt it. Her slim, well-shaped body looked like something out of a special mould. Moulded to perfection. Endowed with moderated curves and edges, flatness and turgidity at appropriate places. Her fluorogenic brown eyes radiated sputtering sparkles that sent shivers into men and made them doubt their masculinity. Eyes that seemed like hypnotizing organs, making men want to do just anything to please her.

The eyebrows were arched and jet black, with winged and curling eyelashes. The way the eyes rolled and shifted coupled with the movement of her eye lashes was an enigma.

Just below a straight nose characterised by narrow nostrils and pointed tip, sat magnolia blossom soft lips. The lips sat firmly to give that pacific elegance, and when curved produced a scintillating smile. Her blushing dimpled cheek served as border line from a front view of a ravishing diamond shaped face.

Her skin was like something out of a smooth surface mesh with moderately fair complexion. Her legs were long and straight with slim hands that ended with long fingers. Her hair was ebony black, oiled , simply made into pig-tails and packed with ribbons.

Her ears and neck were adorned with a Swaroki Henrietta Rhodium plated crystal necklace and earrings. She wore a Gucci intarsia jacquard flowers top over brown Prada straight skirt. Her beautiful legs were comfortably placed in an expensive Paula Cademartori roseline sandals.
She was beautiful and accentuated it with voguish style of dressing. She carried herself with royal grace, but the youthful exuberance was vivid.

This damsel was just one month less than eighteen years old.

She walked graciously, swaying her hips with youthful grace , feeling the world in her pocket, beneath her, in her prime and enjoying every bit of it. This was Naairah Mukhtar, a second year Business Administration student.

She took pride in ignoring those who gawked at her, but enjoyed the attention, which made her vainglorious. She walked into the sophisticated eatery and saw Nadia sitting behind a table. She flashed her a smile then walked towards her.

Nadia was tall, slim with a ravishing swarthy skin. Her eyes were sulky and attractive; her nose was concave and gave her a sharp look.
“You are late, dear.” Nadia said with a pout. “ I told you that I was starving.”
“ I am sorry, baby.” Naairah said in a honey sweet voice. “ I had to get gas.”
“ We call it Petrol or fuel here.”
“ Here she goes again.”
“ Now sit down and let’s eat. I have been sitting here alone like a stranded bride for over fifteen minutes. Some of the guys kept ogling like I was in need of a man to buy me lunch.”
“ Ohhhh..I am sorry.”

Naairah sat down and heaved a sigh.
“ I am also famished.” She said. “ Where did you park your car?”
“Outside. You were too oblivious to notice.”
“ I guess so.”
“ Now talking is over.” Nadia said. “ Where is the waiter?”
Nadia called the waiter.
“ Chicken parmigiana for me and ……”
“ Jambalaya with chicken, Andouille sausage, rice and spices.” Naairah said.

The waiter nodded and left. It was an American restaurant in Abuja City.

The food was served within a jiffy. The girls settled down to eat while they were served drinks. Naairah raised up her head to sip from her drink when she saw him come in. Their eyes met and he quickly looked away. There was an empty table close to them and she guessed he was coming to sit there.

But she could not take off her eyes immediately. There was something about him that made her give him a second glance. He was tall and slim. He covered his Harris Tweed shirt with a brown colour leopard skin Borsalino jacket. His jeans was authentic Calvin Klein which stopped above his Louis Vuttion boots.

He sparkled from the glitter of his Paul Newman Rolex wristwatch. Whoa! This guy reeked of money.
The fragrance of his expensive perfume diffused, giving the air a blend of aroma and cologne.
His wavy hair was worn in an afro cut with a short side burns which stooped at ear length and made thin. Then a swaggering goatee beard and low moustache. His eyebrow was thick over black eyes which radiated buccaneering personality.

His nose was turn-up and the lips were somewhat red. With an aggressive jaw and masculine expression, he cut the quintessence of a dashing man with the world in his pocket.

He nodded at her without a word then sat at the table next to theirs. There was something cold about him she observed. The waiter came to him while he brought some medication drugs from his pocket and put on the table. He held two handsets and one of them was very expensive.
Naairah observed that he did not give them a second look or seemed to remember they were there. That was unusual. Who the hell did he think he was? How could he just give a casual nod and ignore her presence. It was not that she wanted him, or expected him to talk to her but he ought to give her that look every man gave her.

“ Good afternoon, Mr Jalal.” The waiter greeted with reverence. It was obvious that he was known there. “ Your usual, sir?”
“Good afternoon. Yes, Abdul, my usual.”
“ Okay,sir.”
“ Wait.” He said abruptly as the waiter turned to leave. “ God! I left my wallet in my car and it is with my automotive technician.”
“ With what?”
“ My car mechanic.”
“Okay.”
“ And I need to take my medication now. I can’t do that without eating. I beg you serve me now then I come back to pay later. I also hope I can get at least three hundred naira for transportation to the workshop. What a mess!”

The waiter showed a worried expression.

“ What is the problem?”
“ I am afraid the manager is not around and I do not have the authority to do that, Sir.”
“What? Will I run away with your money?”
“ No, sir. You are one of our biggest customers but this thing called protocol and formality is a mess some times.”
The young man sighed.
“ But I need my drugs. I am disillusioned. I spend a lot of money here and you can’t do this simple thing for me. not even for my health?” He smirked. “ Okay, I will leave and if it means going on my foot, I will do it. Thank you very much.”

He made a move to stand up.
“ Serve him.” A sweet female voice emerged.

The young man turned to Naairah watching them. Oh God! She was listening? Now he looked embarrassed.
Now she was glad she made him have this look. The taciturnity had vanished and humility took over.
“Thank you, miss but I would not like to put such a burden on you. I can manage.”
“ It is not fair to turn it down. Please do sit down and eat….for your medication.”
The man looked embarrassed and befuddled. He seemed to be hesitating.
“ Thank you very much.” He said. “ I will drop the money with them when I come back.”
“ I never said I was lending it to you.” She said.

His lips widened and a tremulous smile was produced. Naairah was enjoying the discomfort on his face. She felt like he was kneeling before her as she sat on her throne. She was the queen and he was the subject.

“ Thank you, ma’am.” He said with that mirthless smile and sat back.
His usual was served. American fried rice and chicken soup with fresh fruit drinks.
He ate in silence though he received calls twice. From his conversation, it was obvious he was a young entrepreneur who was into importation.
He did not look at the girls again. Naairah noticed that he finished the food and did not leave ruminants. That was impressive. Some people waste food trying to impress, or avoid being called a glutton, so they leave food unfinished and that was prone to wastage. This guy finished everything and drank his juice.

He took his dugs and got on his feet.
“ Thank you very much.” He said and turned to leave.
What? He did not even bother to introduce himself or ask of her name! That’s it? Who the hell did he think he was?
“ Excuse me, mister.” She said and he turned, giving her an askance look.
“ Here.” She stretched her hand with a five hundred naira note. “ I think you don’t need to go on foot.”

He hesitated.

“ Now, this is too much. I have taken my drugs and filled so I think I can trek.”
“ I insist.”
“Thank you very much.” He said. He moved back and collected the money. “ God bless.”
He smiled at her, then at Nadia then walked out with his imposing, bouncing steps.
This guy was impressive!

Nadia gave her a suspicious look.
“Am I missing something?” She said.
“ Can’t one help a stranded proud guy?”
“ I know you were trying to get him on his knees. And you did just that. Got the poor guy embarrassed.” She smiled. “ But he left without trying to know you….us. He still left with some of his haughtiness.”

Naairah frowned.

That was true. This would not be the end. She hoped to see him again and would not relent until he bowed. The spoilt, rich, arrogant bastard!


She did not see him again after that incidence. She went to the restaurant ( Moore American Restaurant) more than five times but she never saw him. She was forced to ask the waiter who called him Mr Jalal. The waiter said he guessed he must have traveled abroad for business.
She could not understand why she was so desperate to see him again. Why did she keep thinking of him? Just to bring him on his knees? Was she not being megalomaniac?

So he had gone on a business trip. That was the assumption until that fateful day when her cousin, Laila came visiting. As they sat chatting, Naairah saw excitement on her face.

“ What is the excitement all about?”
“ I met this guy, whoa…he was cool. I mean a guy of substance with a great fashion sense and personality. This guy was wearing a Rolex. His clothes were designers. His cologne filed the air….”
“ Hmmmmm…”
“ He was so arrogant at first and would not even look at me, then he got into a fix and I had to help him.”
“ Fix?”
“ Yeah. It was in De Yummies restaurant. He wanted to have lunch so he could take his drugs but forgot his wallet in his car which was with his automotive technician,” she giggled, “I guess that is the American name for auto mechanic. The annoying part was that the waiter acknowledged him to be a very big customer of theirs but the manager was not around and they could not sell on credit. So, I bought food for him. He ate everything and I gave four hundred naira for transportation.
But he did not ask of my name. I guess he was trying to be modest. I know we would meet again.”

Naairah felt a bang in her head.

“ When did this happen?” Naairah noticed the grogginess in her voice.
“ Yesterday.”
“ Did he say his name?”
“ No. I said he so modest. But the waiter called him Mr Jalal.”

Boom!

The nickel was dropped.

The saga begins……………….


tbc