SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 25 2006

Disclosure
My sixth sense kept tormenting me. “Go ahead and do it!” I whispered loudly to myself and the next second would come with quite a different idea. “Don’t do it!!”
Those words kept tormenting my dilapidated mind. I found myself torn between accepting my pre-destined nature or ignoring the fact that I was truly running away from a very important aspect of my life.
It took me nearly a week to arrive at the final conclusion. “Go ahead with the plan and execute it the way it should be done”.
I nodded my head several times, wiped sweat from my forehead with my familiar handkerchief and sighed. At last I was able to convince myself that what I intended to do, then, was for my own good – so to speak.
I took a cab to the post office. On arrival, I went straight to the section where post office boxes were neatly arranged according to their respective numbers.
I stood in front of the small box and stared at it thoroughly – as if I was expecting it to open without the key.
I held the key to the box very firmly between my fingers and squeezed it. I must admit that I was really nervous, but I also knew that I had no choice, either.
I told myself several times to be courageous, besides, I quite alright knew what was inside the tiny box.
Though I was standing there for a minute or so, it seemed as if I was rooted to the ground for ages.
My fingers trembled as I inserted the key to its hole. I plucked up courage, enough courage per se, to turn the key to the left. I heard a soft click and the small box opened, inside it, I saw two envelopes addressed to me.
It crossed my mind there and then, that the handwriting was familiar. It should be, because I have met the person who wrote it over 40 years ago. He initially told me everything, verbally and when I gave my consent on the issue, he said we should enter into a written agreement to avoid “any nasty or unforeseen circumstance”, as he put it.
The larger envelope consisted of a form which I was supposed to fill, while the smaller one had a paper full of instructions on it. I honestly wasn’t expecting any part payment at this initial stage but I thought I was going to be ‘introduced’ to some few Naira notes as PR.
Back at home, I put the envelopes on the table and threw my tired limbs on the nearest sofa. I took my pen and started filling the form which seemed to have the qualities to be called the mother of all forms.
While I was writing few sentences, words and phrases on the form, my mind went back to the success or failure of the whole plan.
My primary assignment was to find out about the ins and outs of Tawwa, a very beautiful divorcee in her early 20s.
Tawwa was married to one of the wealthiest men in town but after only having one child, her husband divorced her for no apparent reason. My undercover job, then, was to find out, by all means, why she was divorced because the intention of my client was to extend his hand of marriage to her.
After having a good lunch of my favourite dish, I began thinking about how I would confront Tawwa or any of her girlfriends, as a way of digging into her past. I told myself, on several occasions, to be extremely careful in order to avoid any nasty experience.
“Anything can happen”, I thought loudly. “From a dirty slap to a very good beating.” I shrugged my shoulders and submitted my conscience to whatever might come up.
I spent the whole of that day, thinking and trying to add one and one but I could not arrive at the right answer. Regardless of all odds, I advised myself not to give up hope.
About two days after, my visit to the post office, I made up my mind to pay a surprise visit to the Tawwa’s bungalow situated a stone throw from the popular city centre stores.
I drove my old Honda Civic and parked about fifty yards away from the house. I stayed in the car, spying with my keen eyes the movement of people getting in and out of Tawwa’s bungalow.
Five minutes after my arrival, I saw one of the most beautiful girls in the world emerge from the house. She was everything a man could think of.
I nodded and totally submitted that my client had every right to fall head over heals in love with Tawwa. No man in his real senses could discard having such a pretty woman as his wife.
She walked psychaddically to the waiting car, with a baby in her arms, entered and shut the door gently. The chauffer drove away and headed eastwards.
Before I knew it, I was tailing their car, my mind blank and my heartbeat almost blocking any nerve functioning in my body. I felt like fainting but then I recalled that I should not be an easy pray or a coward. I, as quickly as possible, drew myself together, cleared my trembling voice and adjusted the position of my sweating hands on the steering wheel.
I felt then, that I was a little bit more comfortable and relaxed. I kept tailing Tawwa until the time we reached the inner circle stores. I was not surprised to see her go there because it was the only store one could find expensive and fashionable children’s wear in town.
I watched with keen interest as Tawwa stepped out of the car and walked towards the entrance gate. She was still holding the baby very firmly in her arms. I got out of my car and followed her.
Inside the well-arranged store, I kept a distance away from her, pretending to be a customer too.
Tawwa picked many things, sets of dresses, towels, napkins, showels, powder and baby oil and many other child care cosmetics.
It took her nearly fifteen minutes to stand in front of the cashier. I told myself that that should be the opportunity for me to get somewhat closer to her, so I quickly bridged the few yards between us and stood right behind her. The perfume she was wearing was enough to turn you on.
I felt relaxed because neither the cashier nor Tawwa noticed any of my actions. The cashier finally looked up and handed Tawwa the slip. I glanced at it and as quickly as possible, threwa 100 Dollar bill on the table and asked the cashier to settle Tawwa’s bills.
“You can keep the change as well”, I told the cashier happily, also praying that things would work out like super magic for me.
Tawwa stopped further searching for her money from her handbag, her hazel eyes, five times larger than the normal size, fell on me. She bent her head to the right side of her shoulder as if she was thinking of something or trying to recall where she saw my face before.
I nodded trying to be smart and wearing the most friendly smile I could think of.
“Please don’t reject the offer. It’s for the baby”, I whispered, truly having no real guts to be serious. I was also somewhat nervous.
Tawwa’s eyes fell on the tiny creature in her arms. The smile which she hiddenly expressed gave me the tendency that I had passed my first test. She then looked at me and whispered: “Thank you. Thank you every much”.
The cashier packed three bags which I gladly accepted to carry for Tawwa, to her waiting car.
“That’ll be too much”, Tawwa said, in a voice sweeter than any instrument you can think of.
“No sweat”, I said, happy that things were going my way. “You manage the baby and I’ll help you with the packages to the car”, I added, trying to hide the happiness circling inside me.
Tawwa led the way and I followed. When we reached the neatly furnished car, I opened the door for her. She hesitated, then slipped into the rearer seat, gently. I asked the chauffer to put the bags in the boot which he did obediently.
When I got the idea that Tawwa had a lot of love for the baby in her arms, I said I would have to apply same tactics that would make me grab her care and concern through her beloved child.
While the chauffer was waiting for the instruction to drive away, I asked for the baby’s name.
Tawwa’s eyes fell on the baby and as expected, I saw her pretty face brighten up.
“You’ve not told us your name yet,” she said, her voice full of ecstasy.
“I’m Chubado”, I introduced myself.
“My baby’s name is Sayna and I’m…”
“Tawwa,” I finished.
I don’t have to tell you how surprised she was to hear me call her real name. Someone she had never seen in her life? Funny!
“How did you know my name?” She asked quickly, unable to hide her surprise.
“Just guessed,” I lied.
“No. I don’t believe it.” Her eyes searching mine.
“Sure. I can tell you more about yourself, you see, your likes, dislikes, favourite food and ….”
“I suppose we should get time and have a lengthy discussion, right?” She interrupted me, wondering who I should be in the first place.
“Yea.” I replied. “When and where?” I finished.
“Our house?” She asked, then added, “or do you know it?”
“Mhn. 5B Sarkim Road?” I said.
Tawwa dropped her lower lip in surprise, then quickly asked, “Are you a spy or something?”
“Relax”. I assured her also telling myself not to cross the boarder. “I’m just – am – one of the neighbours around you.” I lied, hoping that would save me – and it did.
“O.K. I understand,” Tawwa said, though not fully relaxed. “Shall we say tomorrow in our house?”
“Time?”
“Am – say – seven thirty p.m?”
“Sure.” I shut the car door gently, waved good bye to Tawwa and her baby and watched them drive away until their car was swallowed by other traffic heading the same direction as theirs.
I stood, there as if I had conquered the world or being the first African to be on the moon. My happiness couldn’t be described so easily.
I stood there, talking to myself until I noticed that some passers – by were staring at me. I hurried to my car and drove off.
Back home, I wrote a short missive to my client, and briefed him about that day’s episode and the arrangement against the following day.
At exactly 7:30 pm, I was at the entrance gate leading to Tawwa’s beautifully designed bungalow.
“Madam’s expecting you,” the gateman told me and ushered me in.
Two other people were waiting for me at the door leading to the sitting room. They gently led me to one of the most beautifully-decorated sitting rooms in the history of mankind. Name everything expensive or decorative and you would find it there.
“What would you have, sir?” A steward wearing a blue and white uniform asked me in the most polite manner.
“I’m alright, thanks”.
“But Madam said we should serve you before she joins you. She won’t be long.”
“Ok. How about some – say – am – yes any soft drink would do.”
She nodded and bowed, then walked away gently.
About five minutes later, Tawwa joined me at the sitting room.
“Am sorry to keep you waiting. I was attending to the Baby.” Tawwa excused herself.
“Where’s he?” I asked, trying to look behind her as if she was carrying him on her back.”
“Sleeping. He has cold and I gave him…”
“Cold? Lord.” Let’s take him to the Hospital”. I cut her short, getting to my feet.
“Oh no, no.” Tawwa shook her head and waved her hands. “It’s not serious. Please be seated.”
I sort of insisted but Tawwa ruled out going to the Hospital so I eventually surrendered.
“Now tell me about yourself – and – I mean you know so much about me, so who exactly are you? A journalist? Private Detective or what?”
Should I tell her that “I’m a hired detective assigned to find out why your former hubby divorced you – and that my client is interested in you and wants to marry you?” That should have been the mother of all stupidity.
Little did I know that Tawwa was keenly studying me when my mind was far away trying to cook up a convincing story to win her heart.
She jeered me back to reality when she tapped her soft fingers on the table.
“I’m sorry. I was carried away by …”
“What?”
“By – am – your –“
“I checked our neighbours around and you don’t live in our neighbourhood. So tell me the plain truth, who are you and what do you want from me?” I noticed that the tone of her voice has changed and those hazel eyes were forming some reddish substance in them, thereby expressing a small amount of anger in them.
After several seconds full of emotions and anger. I excused myself and rose to my feet.
“I’m sorry for making you angry”. I had little or no idea that what I started and hoped to end up well, was negatively forming up. I felt that I had no courage to face Tawwa and tell her exactly what my mission was all about.
Seeing that nothing positive would likely emancipate from our rather boring conversation, Tawwa held her head between her hands and whispered something my ears couldn’t grab.
“Give me a second”. She got to her feet and hurriedly walked away. She returned about two minutes later and handed me a sheet of paper.
“My telephone numbers. Call me when you have the courage to tell me what’s going on”.
I retuned home defeated and very sad. I felt that my world had collapsed and any idea of building up another relationship with Tawwa should be history.
I suddenly became dizzy and before I knew it. I was gasping for breath. I stumbled on furniture to reach the refrigerator for some water but my hand couldn’t open it. I tried to force it open but it was in vain.
“Am going to faint,” I uttered and started praying – and virtually, my prayers were answered. I regained consciousness and pulled myself together. And the next thing I remembered was Tawwa’s piece of paper.
I hurriedly removed it from my pocket and the contents nearly sent me beyond.
The contents read thus: “You initially told your friend, Hands, about your plan. That is to find out why my former husband divorced me and that you’d like to marry me. You are a good story teller and thank God you initially committed a blunder. Now this is what I think about you Mr. Fantasy—“
“Wake up. Time to get prepared for subh prayers.” It was my wife waking me up from a very unusual dream. How I wish I could tell her what I dreamt about.
















 

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