Read Part 6 here
They have been partying hard from the evening into the night. Ireti had zoomed back into the compound just when the noises of little children and their parents returning from their daily routines cued Ojuola into the knowledge of dusk’s arrival. She heard Ireti’s ringing laughter before she heard the other voices. She’d been unsettled throughout the ride from the clinic. Ojuola had smelt the tension in the stiff silence that hovered in the car. She’d dropped her off at the door, leaving her to fumble with the unseen keyhole. The powdery dust raised in the wake of Ireti’s departure had settled on Ojuola’s trembling lips.
“You no see dat manager, e wan piss for bodi!” Ojuola listened to their gruff drunken laughter above the loud jarring music. They had been quiet in the first hour of their return as they shared the booty. The thump of something against the table signalled the counting of one share.
“Ireti sharp woman, you arrived just when I needed you,” Nat says and the others cheer as their favourite jagbajagba song starts on the stereo. Ojuola presses her thighs together. She closes her eyes tight and prays that famous childhood prayer for ‘number 1’ to come and ‘number 2’ to go. But her bowels do not heed her supplication.
Ojuola opens the door and holds her breath as the blare of music hits her harder. She manages to walk unnoticed to the toilet where she heaves down in super relief. Her hand is stayed on the flush. They would hear the sound and it will draw attention to her. So, she leaves the putrid odour hanging in the air and exits.
“We must not forget Baba’s meat o, that his protection work well well,” the now familiar gruff voice of one of the men bellows.
“The meat don ready since,” Nat replies with a dry laugh. Ojuola collides with something hard on her path. There’s sudden quiet in the room as the music skips and comes to a halt. She can feel their eyes on her. Her skin tingles.
Ojuola freezes on the spot. She wills her legs to move. She orders her vocal chords to scream. They fail to fall to command. Nat grabs her wrist and pulls her closer to his side. She smells the strong whiff of alcohol and cigarette smoke on his breath.
“Nat…” Ireti begins frailly.
“What!” he snaps back.
Ojuola can feel her hot garlic breath on her neck as she moves closer and whispers out of hearing of the others.
“Mary? What would we tell her when she returns?”
“Blind girls especially naughty ones get lost,” Nat says with a finality that melts Ojuola’s buttery heart into oil. Her voice returns. She lets out a piercing scream, loud enough to shame the bass echo of the stereo.
“Sharrap! Stupid girl!” familiar voice grunts.
Nat shoves his fist into Ojuola’s mouth. She chokes on her saliva.
“Bring it,” he speaks through his teeth.
The last thing Ojuola remembers is the flashing light in her head and the sharp stinging in her nostrils before it all turns black.
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