Apartment 7 (9)

ARISHA 



Hitting the stack of papers in his hand hard against the desk, Mr. Sunday picks through the papers and produces a few sheets stapled together.

“Here,” he says, handing them over to me. “Those ones also contain the names of the companies and individuals fingered in the mint bribery case.”

I nod and glance down at the papers in my hands. The information on it is tiny but well spaced out. There are two columns at the bottom of the page. I trace my finger over the numbers contained in the column. There are plenty of them.

“It seems like a lot of money was involved.”

Mr. Sunday nods. “The official records say seven hundred and fifty million dollars exchanged hands between the businessmen in Australia and the officials here, but some of our sources suspect that it is more than that.”

I am intrigued by the fact that there are people behind the scenes digging into the bribery case whose names I will never know.

“How can they know that?”

“They just know,” Mr. Sunday says, giving me a mysterious smile.

I smile back and look at the papers in my hand.

“There were middle men involved too.”

I look back at Mr. Sunday in interest. “Middle men?”

“Contacts in London who moved to money to the account in Bahamas.”

I shake my head in wonder. “Wow! A lot of people are really involved in this case.”

“It is usually like that,” Mr. Sunday says with a shrug, his eyes leaving me to rest on his phone. I know he is expecting a call because when I had walked into his office thirty minutes earlier, he had been on the phone with someone who from his responses appeared to have promised to call him back. I think it is another editor. I suspect another early closing today. 

I unzip my bag and fold the papers before pushing them inside the bag.

“I should be leaving now sir,” I tell Mr. Sunday, standing up from my seat.

Mr. Sunday gives me a distracted nod and picks up his phone. “Okay Arisha. See you tomorrow.”

I leave Mr. Sunday’s office, and when I am in the brightly lit passage, his voice reaches me past the barrier of his door.

Timothy. I have been waiting for your call…no….three arms zone?...okay…thir –

His voice fades away as I approach the stairs. I reach into my bag to fetch my phone to call Lydia. She picks after the fourth ring. A cacophony of sounds accompany her first,

“Hello.”

Keeping my eyes on the stairs, I strain to hear her.

“Hi Lydia.”

She says something but her words are swallowed by the noise coming from the ground. I move the phone away from my ear and decide to converse with her walkie-talkie style.

“I can’t hear you Lydia,” I say a little loudly into the mouthpiece, shooting a concerned look at the disappearing passage above me before quickening my steps towards the open staircase door.

Lydia’s voice is apologetic and clearer when I return the phone back to my ear. “Sorry, I was inside an eatery.”

“Sounded like you were in a party or rally.”

“It is the music they are playing inside o!” Lydia says, her voice a little edgy with anger now. “I have complained to the security men about it, and they can’t seem to do anything about it.”

“What are you doing there?”

The edge disappears from Lydia’s voice and she hesitates for some seconds.

“I came to see a friend.”

I slow down and stop a few inches away from the gate, my eyes going to the bench on the wall. There are new occupants there today. Four men, sitting tightly crammed together on the small bench and attacking their snacks of gala with relish, bottles of La Casera in their hands.

Turning away from them, I return back to my conversation with Lydia.

“Your childhood friend?”

“No.”

I can tell from Lydia’s strained answers that she does not want to divulge the identity of her date.

“Okay.”

“Have you finished with Mr. Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Are you leaving the newspaper now?”

“Yes,” I tell her, nodding and flagging down the taxi dropping off a female passenger in front of the compatriot’s gates. The man collects the money the slim older woman in black boubou and nods at me.

“Where are you going to now?”

“Asokoro,” I tell both Lydia and the young taxi driver with long tribal marks running from each sides of his eyes down to his cheeks.

“Four hundred Naira,” the taxi man says with a smile.

“Will you come back to the newspaper?” Lydia asks with a sigh.

I finish the conversation with Lydia after promising to stop at her house if my meeting with Mr Aderibe at the international institute of journalism ends early enough.

“That will be cool. See you then.”

I slip the phone back into my bag and turn to the patiently waiting taxi driver.

“Three hundred,” I tell him in counter offer.

The man shakes his head, losing his smile. “Three fifty.”

I step away from his taxi like Lydia has taught me to do and look for other approaching taxis. I find one honking at me from the other side of the road. I raise my hand to flag him down but the first driver leans towards me and honks loudly.

“Oya enter.”



                                                              *******************************



I knock once on the door and wait.

“Just in time,” Lydia says when she opens it three minutes later. “And a few minutes after I came back home too.”

I walk into the living room and straight to one of the sofas.

“Mr. Aderibigbe was on his way out when I got to the institute.”

Lydia flops on the sofa beside me, her long legs stretched out before her. She asks if Mr. Aderibe was not aware of my intention to visit the institute.

“He knew,” I tell her with a nod. “He said there was an impromptu meeting he had to attend.”

“At least you have the rest of the day to yourself,” Lydia tells me, pushing up in her seat, drawing her legs up and tucking them under her. Satisfied with her sitting position seconds later, she turns to me. “What did you want to see him for?”

“I wanted his advice on the INEC investigation.”

“Any luck with it?”

“No,” I tell Lydia with a shake of head. “Apart from what the security guard at the office in Garki told me, I have not been able to cover much ground.”

“Have you tried Maitama?”

I nod at her, remembering my drive down to the INEC headquarters this morning.

“I only went as far as the gate. The scrutiny there is too much. I couldn’t even squeeze a good morning from any of the security guards.”

“Tough,” Lydia says with a shake of her head.

“Yes it is.”

“Take some time off.”

“I have just three weeks left.”

Lydia sits straighter in her seat and stares at me with wide eyes.

“And what happens after then? You leave Abuja.”

“Probably,” I say, nodding at Lydia who gives me a sad look.

“That will be so sad.”

I find myself agreeing with her. I tell her that Abuja has grown on me.

“But I am staying with someone, so I can’t stay longer even if I wanted to.”

“Maybe you can stay here with me?”

I smile and shake my head. “I appreciate that, but no. Besides your parents are the ones who have to decide who stays in their house.”

“They will love you,” Lydia says, reaching across the arm of her chair to grab my hand. “I have told my mum about you, and she can’t wait to meet you.”

I look into Lydia’s earnest eyes and shake my head slowly again.

“I am not too sure Lydia.”

“Okay o,” Lydia says, leaning back into her chair with a shrug, “at least I tried.”

I decide to change the subject. The dreary topic of leaving Abuja was beginning to depress me.

“So how did your date go?”

Lydia looks away from me to stare at the open window. “It went well.”

“Okay.”

“I know you want to know who my date was,” she says, turning back to me with a smile.

“Well, only if you want to tell me.”

“I went to see the older guy I told you about.”

“The rich one asking you out?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

“Not really,” Lydia says with a sigh. “Things did not go the way I expected.”

Lydia tells me how her date insisted that they leave the fast food restaurant where they had met.

“He wanted me to go with him to one of his guest houses.”

“He has guest houses?”

“Yes he does.”

“Why would he want to see you in a guest house and not his own house?”

“I asked him the same question today, and nothing he said made sense to me.”

“He must be married,” I tell her making a face.

“I thought so too,” Lydia says with a nod. “But anyway, I told him no and he got really angry.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“I am not sorry I told him no,” Lydia says with a petulant pout. “The whole guest house business made me realize that he had not told me the truth about himself.”

I ask Lydia about her childhood friend and she smiles brightly.

“I went to see him this afternoon,” Lydia says, suddenly turning serious. “Maybe I should just stick to him like you advised.”

Lydia expresses concern for the future but says she is hopeful that things will work out for her childhood friend.

“And the sex…” Lydia says with a worldly smile, “is simply out of this world. It is definitely worth the risk.”

I open my mouth at Lydia. “You slept with him before agreeing to date him?”

Lydia gives me an unabashed yes. “We have been at it for a year now,” she says, winking at me. “Why do you think he asked me out?”

I continue to stare at Lydia without a word and she nods.

“Yes, because of the sex.”

I find Lydia’s carefree attitude disconcerting, but all I can say is,

“Interesting.”

“What?” Lydia says, looking oddly at me. “You don’t like sex?”

“No, it is not that.”

“You are a virgin?”

“No.”

“So why are you acting like one?” Lydia asks in confusion.

“Let’s just say I am a secondary virgin.”

“Huh?”

“Someone who has stopped having sex for some time and –“

Lydia bends double and howls in laughter. I ignore her, continuing bravely,

“…vows to wait before marriage to experience sex again.”

Lydia straightens and shakes her head at me.

“Secondary virgin ko! University nun ni!” she says, a teasing smile on her lips. “Once you have done it, you have done it. Your virginity is gone Arisha, give up the pipe dream.”

“Maybe I am just close minded about sex.”

“No, you are not,” Lydia says, smiling broadly. “You just need someone to unlock all that passion you have been holding up inside.”

I remember the kiss with Ladi and feel transparent. As if she read my mind, Lydia changes her sitting position and says,

“So tell me about that flat mate of yours, is he cute?”

I squirm uncomfortably in my seat and try to be honest in my description of Ladi. Lydia gives me knowing looks and I spend the rest of the evening trying to convince her that I am unaffected by Ladi’s charms. Lydia is not buying it, and neither is my inner voice.



                                           *********************************



LADI



Uncle Hassan sits in one of the chairs opposite me, a perplexed expression on his face as he mulls over my words.

“And this person calls you with his number hidden?”

“Yes sir.”

My uncle shakes his head, looking worried now.

“It will be hard to trace this caller because we don’t even know who he is or where he is calling from.”

“Maybe I will try engaging him in a conversation to see if I can get anything on him.”

“I think you should,” My uncle says, nodding and standing up from his seat. Walking slowly to the door, my uncle turns to me again.

“Have you been able to ask your flat mate what she knows about the bribery case?”

I shake my head and try not to look as guilty as I am feeling. I had been too busy playing kissing games with Arisha to find out what she knew about the case involving my uncle’s company, and I felt rotten for it.

My uncle shrugs, his hand going to the door handle. “I am sure we have nothing to worry about.”

“I will ask her about it this evening.”

Uncle Hassan nods and pulls the door open. “’Okay, let me know what happens.”

The door closes behind my uncle and I begin to prepare to leave the office. As I push my laptop into its leather case and clear the clutter on my desk, my eyes fall on the novel I had been reading for the past week. I remember Arisha asking to read it. I pick it up with my phones and walk out of the office. For some reason I am looking forward to going home.



                                             *****************************



ARISHA



The security guard with the permanent smile on his face calls out to me before I can enter the stairway.

“Aunty good evening.”

I hurriedly retrace my steps back to him. “Good evening Mr. Michael.”

The man holds out a piece of paper towards me. “Somebody asked me to give this to you.”

I collect the note from the man, wondering who would leave a note for me at the gate. I know it is not Ladi. The gate man would have said so if it was him. The writing on the note is thin and spidery but decipherable.

Hello. I came to the house this afternoon but the security men told me that there was no one at home. I was looking forward to seeing you again. I will check back on you next week. I have something important to discuss with you. Take care.

Raina.

I fold the note and thank the security guard who returns back to his security post. When I enter the apartment, I open the note and read it again. How can I face Raina after what I had done with Ladi?



                                           ******************************



LADI


I throw myself down on my favourite sofa and wait for Arisha to return from the guest room where she has gone to fetch the paper she says has the list of people involved in the mint bribery case. I hear the room door open and I take my eyes off the television to stare at her as she returns back to the living room with papers in her hand.

“Here,” she says, handing the papers over to me and sitting down on the next sofa. I stand up and walk to the dining table for my reading glasses. The papers contain the same information I had researched on the internet. I flip past the first page in search for the list of people involved in the scandal and find it on the next page. I trace the list with my finger, careful not to miss anything and just when I am breathing out a sigh of relief, the name of my uncle’s company jumps out at me from the page.

Hassan and Sons Holdings

“Ladi,” Arisha calls from behind me. “Do you know anyone involved in that case?”

My head starts to lower in a nod but I stop myself on time. Arisha is training to be an investigative journalist. I don’t want her making conclusions, at least not before I find out what she already knows about the case. I carry the papers back to the living room area and sit down on my sofa.

“What do you know about this case?”



                                                  *****************************



ARISHA



Ladi is very businesslike as he listens to me share what I learned in Mr. Sunday’s office this afternoon. He nods every now and then, hanging on to every word. Finally, I stop and study him closely.

“You seem very interested in this case.”

Ladi’s lips curl in a smile. “I am just curious, I guess.”

I can’t help the feeling that he is holding something back from me. Does he know something about the mint case that I don’t know? I decide against asking him more questions.

“Okay.”

“It is a very popular case at the moment and I am following it.”

“Every newspaper seems to be on the story.”

“Yeah,” Ladi says with a nod and then stands up. “I need to make a call. I will be right back.”

He strolls out of the living room to his room, fingers working on the keypads of his blackberry.

What does he know about the mint case?



                                                  *****************************



LADI



“Good evening Ladi,” Uncle Hassan says, acknowledging my greeting when he comes on the phone.

“I just spoke with my flat mate now.”

“Okay. What did you find out from her?”

I tell my uncle about the contents of Arisha’s photocopied papers.

“Apparently my contacts were wrong,” Uncle Hassan says after minutes of attentive listening.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I am too tired to think right now,” my uncle says with a yawn. “I will just go to bed. Maybe I will come up with an idea on how to deal with this tomorrow.”

I have questions of my own but I know how irritable my uncle is when he is tired so I swallow them.

“Good night.”

“Good night Ladi.”

My mind goes back to Arisha and I can’t help feeling bad about lying to her. I promise myself to come clean with her as soon as I can figure out why my uncle’s company has been indicted in this bribery case. But then again, why do I care? Why do I want to be honest with Arisha?

I lean on the wall, breathe deeply and tell myself the truth.

“Admit it Ladi, you like her.”



                                                   *****************************



ARISHA


I hold the perfume bottle a few inches away and spray a generous amount of it all over my body. Dropping the bottle back on the bed stand, I walk to the bathroom mirror to check my make up. I find my lipstick too heavy and blot it out on a piece of tissue paper I tear from the roll on the roll holder beside the toilet.

My phone begins to ring again. Releasing a sigh of irritation at Andy’s impatience, I find my white flats beside the bed and slip into them.

In the living room, a music video is still playing but no one is watching. I look at Ladi’s room as I walk to the front door. I wonder for a minute if he has gone to bed.

I shake my head as I grab the handle of the door. “He is probably still on his phone.”

I rush down the stairs, eager to get done with my meeting with Andy and return back to the apartment.



                                               *****************************



LADI



The front door is being pulled shut when I return to the living room. I stand beside the dining table and try to deal with the weird feeling of jealousy when I hear my inner voice whisper that Arisha is on her way to see the guy with the Audi. Hands in pockets of my combat shorts, I walk to the window and part the curtains.

I see the Audi before I see Arisha who strolls into my view dressed in a white top and blue jeans trouser. I watch as she crosses the road to the Audi. Dropping the curtains, I end my spying.

I return back to the television and stare listlessly at it for some minutes. Soon, I give up watching it and walk to the kitchen for a can of Heineken. Standing there in the kitchen, all I can think of is what Arisha is doing with the guy in the Audi.

What were you expecting? She told you she had a boyfriend.

Taking the can of Heineken back to the living room, I nod in agreement with my inner voice. I have no right to be jealous. She warned me after the kiss that there was someone else.

I go back to watching television and this time I find reason to enjoy the movie I stumble on after switching channels. It is a fairly new action thriller and I am into my seventh scene when the doorbell rings. I find Mr. Michael standing at the door when I open it. He tells me that the guests of my next door neighbour who had denied me a parking space earlier are gone.

“You can bring your car into the compound now.”

“Okay.”

“I am sorry you had to park outside. It won’t happen again.”

I thank the security guard and go in search of my car keys.



                                                   ***************************



ARISHA



I sit listening to Andy’s pleas and feeling worse about turning down his request for a relationship.

“I really like you Arisha.”

“I like you too,” I tell him in a placating tone. “I just don’t think I am ready for a relationship now.”

Andy sighs and throws his head back. “This sucks.”

I turn to the window to reflect on my decision not to date Andy, and just then, Ladi steps into my line of vision, eyes boring past the glass into my own. My heart picks a faster beat and I feel oddly guilty.

“You know him?”

I turn to Andy and nod. “Yes, I do.”

Andy leans on his door, still looking in Ladi’s direction, “neighbour?”

“No. That is my flat mate.”

Andy stares at me as if finding it hard to believe my words. Finally he shrugs. “Okay.”

When I return my attention to Ladi, I am surprised to see a woman wrapped around him, a black Honda CRV with blinking headlights parked behind her.

“Well, he seems quite popular with the ladies,” Andy says drily.

I watch Ladi and the woman, a burning sensation in my chest. I turn my face away from them. I am not jealous. I just can’t watch.



                                        *******************************



LADI


"Lah - dee! Nice to see you here."

I endure another few seconds of Rita’s obnoxious perfume and reach to slowly remove her hands from my neck.

“It is nice to see you too,” I tell her with a polite smile.

Standing away from me, Rita studies the house with interest.

“Is this where you live?”

I almost tell Rita no but I change my mind. “Yes.”

“Oh great,” Rita says, taking a step towards me. “That means I can come visit.”

I struggle to find a polite way to turn her down but nothing comes to mind. The welcome sound of a car door opening and closing distracts Rita. I turn with her to see Arisha leaving the Audi. I suddenly have a bright idea. I lean closer to Rita.

“You can’t visit because that is my girlfriend walking towards us.”

Her eyes still on Arisha, Rita looks disappointed.

“Well, too bad.”

The Audi roars away and Arisha finally meets up with me and Rita.

“Hi,” she says, nodding at Rita with a friendly smile.

I reach out a hand and drag Arisha close. "Hey love," I say, giving her a love filled smile. "Finished with your cousin yet?"

Arisha blinks at me in surprise and then by sheer miracle, she manages to understand what I am up to.

"Yes," she says, giving me a slow sexy smile and pressing herself to my side. "Are you finished with your friend yet?"

I look at Rita and give her a smile of regret. "Yes I have."

Placing her hand possessively on my arm, Arisha turns to Rita.

"I am sorry, but we have to go now."

"Okay," Rita says, nodding stiffly before turning to me. "Okay, Ladi. See you later at the mi -"

I turn Arisha around, place a kiss on her parted lips and drag her inside the compound before Rita completes her statement.

"That was rude Ladi," Arisha says, looking mortified when we enter the stairway. "She was still talking."

"I know."

See you later at the mint.

There was no way I was going to let Arisha hear that.

"And your car is still parked outside."

"I am going back to it when I am sure that she has gone."

Arisha nods, stares at me for some seconds.

"I better go back upstairs."

"See you soon," I tell her, marching back to my car again. Outside there is no Rita or black CRV to get in my way. I move my car into the compound and walk slowly upstairs to the apartment. Arisha is nowhere to be seen, so I make a beeline for her door. After almost three minutes of delivering light knocks on her door, she throws it open, standing before me in her towel.

"I was in the bathroom," she says coolly. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for going along with my act downstairs."

"Okay."

After seconds of awkward silence, I begin to turn away.

"Ladi?"

I face Arisha again. "Yes?"

"Not everyone likes games."

"I don't play games."

"Kissing games?"

"That was Aisha's idea."

"What about this evening? A few minutes ago?"

"I am sorry. It was the only way I could escape her."

"The kiss downstairs?"

I stare at Arisha for a while and then do the only thing I can think of in that moment. I kiss her long and hard. When we break away, she is panting, her cool demeanour gone.

"It was real."

I walk away from Arisha with the knowledge that I do not just like her. I am dangerously close to falling in love with her. I am in a dilemma. She is with Mr. Audi. She is with the newspaper hounding my uncle.



                                                     *********************



ARISHA



I close the door and walk to the bed, still clutching my towel, my lips still tingling with Ladi's kiss. Sitting on the bed, I lower my face to my hands and think of the woman I had seen with him. I remember the stab of jealousy I felt as I walked closer to find out that she was beautiful, even though a little over made up.

See you later at the mi -

What had she been about to say? Ladi's kiss has been too sudden. It was almost as if he did not want me to hear the rest of the woman's statement.

"Maybe they usually meet somewhere."

The thought of Ladi meeting up with another woman made me feel ill.

Go to him.

"I can't," I tell my inner voice resolutely. "He will think I am loose or something."

But you want him.

"My vow..." I whisper weakly.

Lydia's laughter comes back to me.

Secondary virgin ko! University nun ni!

I throw myself back on the pillows, my mind filled with a single thought repeating itself like a mantra. I want Ladi. I want Ladi. I want Ladi.