Joshua Fela – Episode 7

Joshua Fela | Damstylee_Original picture sourced from Google

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Dare lay naked on the king size bed. The duvet was mussed and it barely covered his phallus after all the tossing and turning during the night. Susan lay beside him and was also deep in sleep. Her hair was packed in a hairnet and her face still had traces of last night’s make up.

The sun came up early and it let itself in through the tiny gap between the drapes. That single ray attacked Dare’s face and he was forced to jump out of bed. He tried going back to sleep after re-directing the light to Susan’s face but sleep wasn’t forthcoming.

Susan woke soon; the light causing her to. She looked in his direction and saw him standing over the bed. He looked like he could burst into laughter anytime and she didn’t need a mind reader to know he had done something mischievous.

“Dare; you did that curtain thing again right?” She asked with a stern look. He turned away and clasped his lips tightly to prevent them from betraying the act.

“You’re just a cow.” She said when he didn’t reply and threw a pillow in his direction. He caught the pillow and smiled.

“And you’re my lovely gecko.” He relied and tossed it right back at her. Those were their pet names. They had coined them during their first night out in London.

“Don’t you think we have taken the word pet too literally?” He had asked that night when she laid in his arms after a few bouts of sex.

“I know right.” She had replied.

She rolled up on the bed and backed the sunlight. The light fell on her hair this time and rendered it a taint brown. He noticed the colour gradient in her hair and smiled. Thoughts of going back to bed crossed his mind but he brushed them off. The alarm clock read 6:26. The time was 6:11 then, he calculated. It was fifteen minutes late. An error incurred by himself on purpose the night they arrived here in Burj al Arab.

He moved to the working closet and spent some minutes jostling on which shorts would be perfect for the day. Today was Tuesday, or was it Wednesday; he had no idea. Work was overbearing and he had no time for dates. Last night’s mini rendezvous with the other senators had left him with a slight headache this morning; the result of taking more than two glasses of tequila than his body could afford. He had learnt that the hard way some years back.

He settled with a pair of lemon coloured beach shorts and rose it up like a trophy. Humming the UEFA Champions League theme in his head, he moved his arms like he saw the conductor do at a live rendition of the Moulin Rouge in Paris last week.

“This is childish, Dare.” He told himself. “You’re forty seven for heaven’s sake.”

He stepped out of the closet and the room into the patio. The gale last night was nowhere to be found and all that was left was a soft breeze that was soothing to his skin. He rubbed his stomach in ecstasy and admired the orange sun. Today was perfect. He undressed and stepped into the suspended pool while clutching between his fore and middle fingers a cigar with his name emblazoned on it. He found his perfect spot in the pool with ease and made himself comfortable.

The shores of Dubai looked scanty this morning and he cursed for forgetting his binoculars inside. He procrastinated however and promised his conscience he would get it later. He couldn’t miss work for today. At least, this was work; spending a week in Dubai’s most extravagant hotel, smoking his customised cigar, resting in the pool all week long and no phone calls or emails. Sleeping with Nigeria’s ambassador to the United Arab Emirates in the most expensive suite in the whole of the Middle East was also an add-on. He couldn’t have wished for better. He didn’t even need to be the president; his earnings as a senator was sufficient for him.

The door leading to the patio opened and out stepped Susan. Looking at her now, he couldn’t quite see the class he noticed the first day they met at the official meeting in London last month. She held his phone and he frowned.

So much for no phone calls.

“You have a call. It’s from Nigeria.”
He grumbled and reluctantly collected the phone from her. Where was his personal assistant when he needed her?

“Hello.” The voice at the other end said.

“Yes, this is Senator Oludare Ibikunle.”

“Good day sir, this is Inspector Bello.”

“Inspector; how are you doing?”

“I’m very fine sir.”

“Good. To what do I owe this honour?”

“I just called to inform you of an urgent matter… or rather issue.”

“Yes, what issue?”

“Sir, I don’t know how to put it but your son was moved to the morgue last night. He had been murdered.”

“What? Where?”

“In his school; we don’t know who the murderer is yet but my boys are working on it.”

“See Inspector, I don’t care what investigations are running now but you must who killed my son. Make sure you’re in charge of the investigation.”

“Definitely sir.”

“I’ll take the next flight to Nigeria. Interrogate anybody you have to; his friends, lecturers, arrest the whole school if you see the need to sef.”

“Yes sir.”

“See you soon.”

“Okay sir. Good day sir.”

“Good day.”

“Dare, what’s wrong?” Susan asked after he dropped the call.

“Tope was killed last night.”

“What?” She held her hands to her mouth in shock.

“Yes. I’m going to Nigeria now.”

He got out of the pool, left his shorts behind and walked towards the penthouse. She watched him walk butt-naked into the house with puddles of water formed at each step he took and hurried after him.

***

“Are these delusions only caused by injuries or accidents to the head?” a male student asked.

“No.” the aged looking professor replied. His big spectacles adorned his round face and balanced themselves neatly on the crane of his nose. Nath devised he was almost or above seventy because the only black hair he could find on him were little patches on his moustache and he could have sworn the old professor looked like the Penguin; a villain in the Disney Batman series.

“Sometimes, these diseases are hereditary.” The professor’s monotone voice echoed in the classroom.

“Examples are the Huntington and the Gaucher diseases…”

The freshers looked on in awe as the oldest lecturer in the medicine department and current head of department wowed them with his vast knowledge.

“The Huntington is very devastating; it slowly impedes the affected individual’s ability to walk, talk and reason. According to research, it’s hereditary; that means it is passed down from generations to generations and there is no cure for it. One good thing though is that it’s rare in Nigeria. We have had just one case in about fifty years. I guess that is a good ratio right?”

The class nodded in the affirmative.

“At least I shouldn’t be prescribing treatment for any of you for it in my lifetime.”

The whole class laughed at this statement. Nath however stared on stupefied. How the fellow students found that humorous was really strange to him. He had to admit though; the man did have a charm on his students. It must be a departmental thing, he reasoned after Josh yawned for the umpteenth time.

“Other examples are the traumatic brain injury which is predominant in children unfortunately.” The professor continued. He went on to explain how the diseases were diagnosed and whether scientists had found cures to them or not.

Nath slouched on the bench himself and Josh were seated on. Sleep was beginning to creep up on him and he was fighting a losing battle against it. He had come here to learn more about his predicament but it seemed he was going to leave worse.
Josh laughed beside him when he saw the look on his face.

“I told you this was going to be a wasted effort. Now, we have missed our history class.”

Nath ignored him and focused what was left of his attention on the professor. If only he could mention what he wanted to hear. He had stayed up all night buried in thoughts over Tope’s death. It couldn’t have been a coincidence; it all had to be connected.
He checked his wristwatch for the time and knew the class was going to end soon. He had to act now.

“Yes; you at the back”. The professor said. Nath’s hand was up.

“Good afternoon sir.”

“Good afternoon. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in this class.” Josh tugged at his trouser but Nath shrugged him off.

“Yes sir, I’m not a student in this department. I’m from the ICT department. I just came to learn a thing or two about a particular brain delusion.”

“Okay, carry on.” The professor urged.

“I have a relative and he’s diagnosed with a brain disease. The doctors called it the Capgras syndrome.”

“Capgras syndrome.” The professor reiterated. “Peculiar brain delusion I would say. What are the symptoms your relative has showed?”

“Well, he claims his dead best friend is still alive and that he actually sees him.”

“Hmm… I would have loved to meet him. Has he showed any form of violence?”

“Not that I know of.” Nath replied.

“Then that’s good. He still has a little time before he finally loses it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Victims diagnosed with the Capgras syndrome resort to violence after a while. They break stuff or cut themselves. They might even kill someone without knowing they did. That’s when it’s extreme though, but if your relative hasn’t gotten to that stage, good for him or is it her?”

“Him.”

“Good for him then.”
Nath bath his eyelids to prevent tears from pouring out of his eyes and embarrassing himself further, it was bad enough that he was in another department.

“Okay sir, one other thing.”

“Yes?”

“My cousin claims he sees the future.”

The professor smiled at this and shook his head slowly. He removed his glasses and wiped them on his blue cotton shirt before putting them back on. The whole class including Nath stared on anxiously.

“There have been claims of Capgras delusion victims seeing the future but there are no facts yet and so many disprove it as a logical notion.”

“What do you mean sir?”

“I mean the dream and premonitions these patients claim to have could just be a figment of their imagination. They are already mentally impaired, who is to say this is not one of the side effects of the delusion? Give me an example of when he claimed to have seen the future.”

Nath racked his memory for a befitting example that would suit his case. Stating anything similar to his case or Tope’s death would just raise suspicion around him.

“One day, a vase was broken in the house and we were wondering who got it broken. Meanwhile, he was sleeping in the room. When we went to ask him, he looked in shock and told us how the vase had broken and which side it had broken without seeing the vase itself. When we asked him how he knew, he said he had seen it in a dream.”

“He broke the vase.” The professor said without warning.

“He did?”

“Yes; the reason why he knew the vase was broken was because he broke it and then taught he saw someone else do it.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes. I hope I’ve answered your questions well.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.”

“You’re welcome son. “

The whole class heaved a sigh of relief. What they just experienced in the last hour was mind-blowing. A short boy said aloud that this was why he chose to study medicine and the rest of the class nodded their heads in approval

The professor smiled at their enthusiasm, took a look at his wristwatch and said;

“I guess my time is up.”

“Yes sir.” Some students retorted.

“Good. Class dismissed.”

***

“You should have seen how he sparked for me. You would have thought I was his girlfriend.”

“Ehn, you don’t mean it?” Nike replied.

They were in Ronke’s room and they were talking about her conversation with Nath the day before. Ronke wore a yellow blouse on bum shorts and was knitting a scarf for herself while Nike was seated in the corner and was chatting on her blackberry. She smiled every other minute and Ronke wondered what was making her so delighted.

“Who or what is making you smile?” She asked.
Nike looked up from her phone and with her expression, you would think she had been caught in a shameful act.

“Who are you chatting with?” Ronke asked again.

“Nobody.” Nike replied and shone her teeth in an attempt to depict ignorance.

“That’s a lie.” She stood up and tried to snatch the phone but Nike hid it behind her.

“Just tell me now. I thought we were best friends.”
A smile lit up Nike’s face as she heard Ronke’s declaration. Being the best friend of the hottest girl in school had always been her dream.

“It’s my boyfriend.” She said reluctantly.

“Your boyfriend?” Ronke reiterated sarcastically.” If you didn’t want to tell me, you could have just said so.”

“I’m serious.” Nike replied with a straight face.

“Really; how long is your relationship?”

“Two months.”

“Hmm… Two months? Prove it.”

“How am I supposed to prove it?” Nike asked.

“You’ve had a boyfriend for two months; prove to me that he’s not some fantasy character you just created to prevent me from knowing what you were actually doing.”

“Well, his name is Jeff, we met on twitter…”

“What?” Ronke interjected.

“You see, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Sorry, continue.”

“That’s all. There is nothing else to say”

Ronke thought for a while and asked; “have you slept with him?”

“Erm…”

“Wow, you’re stupid.” Ronke exclaimed. “How do you sleep with someone you just met? Do you have his picture?”

“Yes.” She enlarged his display picture and stretched to hand her phone to Ronke when a knock at the door halted her action.

“Hold that thought.” Ronke said and went to get the door.

She opened the door and in stepped the hall porter and two police men clad in their complete official uniforms. The two officers were two different personalities entirely. The first one was short, fair and looked very much like a man from the south of the country. She didn’t need to guess what tribe the taller and darker one was from. His tribal marks said it all.
The shorter officer spoke first.

“Good day ma’am. I suppose you’re Miss Ronke Gbadamosi.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Good. You are under arrest for the master minding the murder of one Mr Temitope Ibikunle.”

“Murder ke? Me?… Wait, Tope is dead. Jesus! I didn’t kill him o”

“We can discuss that at the station. We would like to be on our way immediately.”

“Mo daran (I’m in trouble)… Can I please call my father first?”

“You can do that at the station ma’am. Can we go?”

“Yes, just let me change.”

The taller policeman hadn’t said anything and she cared less about hearing what his voice sounded like. She hurried into the room, changed her shorts to full length corduroy jeans, grabbed her phone and followed them.

“Nike, take care of my room and keep the key for Chloe before she comes back.” She said to Nike as they left the room.

“Okay; take care.” Nike bade her farewell and shut the door behind them. As soon as she was sure they had gone quite a distance, she updated her BBM status.

Ronke Gbadamosi has been arrested for the murder of “Tope Murano”!!!!

To be continued next week Tuesday.

***

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