OPERATION MAMBISA FOREST 2 The night was long and torturous,the room atmosphere electric. The tension in the room was gravitating towards a record high just as the night was winding towards the wee hours. Wed both pretended we were sleeping,when deep down both of us knew no one was sleeping. I perched at an extreme of the family-sized bed,with Jamila to the other end. Occasionally,I will steal a glance through the dimly lit room and I observed her doing same in few of the attempts. We kept tossing and turning and pacing endlessly to the loo. Wed gone to bed following a spicy meal of Tuo Masara and Mia Kubewa which was ably supported by well spiced suya. I got to knowing Jamila more in the course of the meal. She spoke freely and didnt mind my inability to reciprocate the gesture. She runs an NGO which she inherited from her late mum who died in the Suleja Bomb blast. Poor girl. An only daughter. Jamila has vowed to fulfil her mums dream of reaching out to the oppressed and less privileged of the society. Following the Chibok abduction,Jamila moved camp temporarily from Abuja to Borno. She has been mobilising both material and moral support for the mothers of the abducted girls. As she explained,she showed me corresponding pictures from her iPad. Pictures with the Governor and wife of Borno State,Red Cross big wigs, Myra Wright of McArthur Foundation, PDP Woman Leader, Pat Utomi,Labaran Maku and most recently a picture with me. As she narrated,the sadness in her eyes gave colour to her story. I could visualise her heart of gold. Just twenty six,yet slaving for humanity. Such a rare feat in todays Nigeria. Jamila is an orator who radiates enthusiasm for the course she supports. By a curious coincidence I found out her dreams coincides with my plans,even though mine was geared towards finding the girls. I wasnt going to tell her,either,but will use her goodwill to my advantage. Outside the compass of her occasional giggles and grins,I could see that shes racked by remorse..racked by pains. The cause of the remorse I couldnt place,but pains of a brutally murdered mother,an unconcerned polygamous father and a jilting fiancee. Her life is filled with the hoary ruins of a failing society,but shes determined to make her mark still. As I stood by the window pane staring at the nocturnally dead city of Maiduguri,I got wondering where I drew the moral stamina from-not to have touched Jamila despite being drawn to the brink of temptation. Maybe because of Cynthia. Maybe,because Im not really convinced of why a beautiful woman like this will talk me into sharing a night with her in her suite and offering her body to me without my asking. Maybe,shes struggling to replace memories of her jilting boy friend. Maybe,she just need a hangers-on. Maybe,whatever! But,I know something isnt right. The Arabian clock on the wall stood at 3.23am. Id hardly closed my eyes in the course of the night. How can I,with this beautiful temptation lurking at me? As if she heard my thoughts-she stretched, yawned and sat up. Whats the problem,Noel? The way she pronounced my name sends cold shiver down my spine. Far sweeter than any pet name could do. Nor-yellll. Youve been pacing up and down all night,she added. Im fine,I relied dryly. She turned the bedlamp on,got up and entered the convenience,her steps gorgeous, accentuating her bodily endowment . With the door ajar,I saw her gaze at herself in the mirror forlornly. She ran water across her face and sauntered out engaging me in a fixed dramatic stare. The empathy between us was obvious. Empathy entails some degree of emotional sharing-a prerequisite to truly understanding anyone elses inner world. Neural Wifi is what gives you the richness of empathy,the fundamental mechanism that makes seeing someone hurt really get you hurt. The brains acts almost identically when theres mutually sensing of feelings. She broke the stare and avert her eyes downwards. Training and practical experience has taught me that we avert our eyes downward with sadness,away with disgust,and down or away while feeling guilt or shame. I could sense the sadness. It cant be guilt or shame. Why are you avoiding me? Those words cut like a jigsaw across my heart,lowering into the annals of my conscience. Suddenly,I was gripped by a rush of something that is neither fear no excitement,but a disturbing volatile mixture of the two. You may be drawing the conclusion am one cheap slut..whoring at you. It isnt your fault. She sighed and walked away. Far be it! I replied trying to keep up pace. She spun around and faced me. You are resisting my body,yet your boxers is thinking differently. Good night,Nor-yelll! She yelled,still facing me and staring at my boxers. I flushed in shame and this scrawny grin popped up on my face. Im sure I was looking like Mr. Bean in one of those his mischievous smiles. Common sense and reason has nothing to do with my reluctance. Just that some primitive instinct older than time is warning me not to risk being hurt, I told her,trying helplessly to cover the front of my shorts with my hands. Standing before me in that revealing lingerie was doing more harm than good to my resolve. I was taut and close to my elastic limit. Most times you dont realise how beautiful a woman is when you dont want her. Who gets hurt? Who gets used? She was in a fit. In a burst of tears and sobs. Empathy weighed down on my conscience and I subconsciously held her in an embrace and patted her back like a baby. Please,dont do this. I dont deserve your tears. Im an ordinary stranger. She intensified the cry and wetted my chest with the streaming tears. Jamila,I want to assure you I like you as a person and admire you that much. Given the chance,I will ask you out a million times and beg you to love me. For to night,lets just sleep like very good friends. Lets not hurry into what we may regret. The sobbing decreased but she held unto me like the world was about to end. Gently,I carried her in my arms and placed her on the bed. She laid like a little child staring in smokey eyes. I nailed a kiss on her forehead and laid beside her drawing the duvet across us. You are an awesome man, she said weakly. You are an angel, I replied beaming in smiles. Then this terrible knock on the door. 4.01am. I jumped up in panic. Jamila dragged me back to the bed. Shhhhhhhh! The strength of the knock intensified,this time more fiery. Jeez! I wailed in the spirit. What have I brought myself into? I could feel the door frame pulling. Bandits? Boko Haram? What? »TO BE CONTINUED«
Posted on: Mon, 02 Jun 2014 07:06:26 +0000
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