A POISONED CHALICE (EPISODE 1)

He grabbed my neck and slammed me against the wall. I felt my breath flee my lungs and my teeth rattled in my skull as I slid to the ground. The pain was incredible, I could barely see as tiny lights swirled about in a certain darkness.

---

_{photo by Stocksnap on pixabay}

---

Before I could find my bearing, I felt hands around my shirt collar and soon I was lifted off the ground again. I knew I was pleading for air, for the pain to stop but my lips were numb, no words came out that he could hear. He slammed me against the wall again and my head rocked back and slammed against the wall. Darkness descended like a cloth over me.

I woke up to the smell of piss and vomit. I had voided on myself, it would seem. I opened my eyes slowly, my head throbbing with intense pain. The light struck me and I quickly closed my eyes and breathing through my mouth, I felt pain in my ribs. I raised my right hand to touch them but I could only lift the hand a bit. I was too weak, I let the hand fall back to the floor. I mentally searched within myself for any injury that I could notice. My ribs hurt as if they had cracked or something and my every breath was a torture. My throat also felt sore as I tried to swallow. My mouth was parched and a thimble of water would have been welcome.

---

I lied like that for hours, waiting, drifting in and out of something akin to sleep. I slowly drifted awake and immediately, I knew someone was with me in the room. I could perceive the stink of sweat and stale perfume. It was a feminine scent but I could not judge based on that; there were men who wore any kind of perfume they found, not caring if it was masculine or feminine.

“I know you are awake.” A gruff voice muttered.

I opened my eyes slowly, making allowance for them to get used to the light. I tried to turn my head but it hurt to do so. I just knew that he was by my left. It was the voice of my assailant.

I licked my lips and swallowed. A cup appeared in my vision. I studied it as it drifted to my lips and soon a trickle of water flowed into my throat. The water was warm and tasted of metal but it did not matter, it was water and I was thankful. The cup soon left my lips and I swallowed and licked my lips again.

“I want to ask you a few questions. I will not ask them twice and I will know if you are lying to me. I don’t want us to start breaking bones and tearing skin. That is rough and thirsty work, I’d rather be at home watching a football game.” The voice said.

I was yet to see the face. From the voice though, I considered that he would be a big man with broad shoulders and big hands. After all, he had lifted me without trouble and I am not a small person. He had not bothered to question me before attacking me and bruising me. What would he do if he found out that I was lying? I didn’t even know exactly what I was supposed to be lying about? I didn’t know why I was on the bathroom floor of my flat, bleeding and bruised. I tried to nod my head in agreement; I didn’t trust my voice to be any good.

He must have seen the nod, for I heard footsteps moving about the room then a chair scraped the floor and then I heard the weight of something being placed on the chair. His face revolved into view. It was Fatima’s husband. He smiled.

“Where is my wife?” he asked.

---

Fatima! Fatima was the beautiful ebony nymph that bestrode my dreams most of my life. We had grown up together in our neighborhood. She is Fulani and a muslim while I am Ibo and a Christian. Our parents were cordial to each other and because we lived in the same compound at first, and because our fathers worked in the same mill and because both of us were the only child of our parents, we became close friends.

At first, our friendship was ignored. We were kids, small, innocent, then I went to boarding school in Lagos while Fatima went to a boarding school in Kaduna. She was lucky as her father wanted her to have the best of life. He did not deny her anything as long as it had to do with her education and her well being. My parents also slaved to make sure that I got the best education, so no matter how poor our parents were, we got the best of everything.

At first, we met during the holidays and regaled each other with stories of school. At first, our parents ignored our continued friendship and nothing was said. Fatima’s mother still laughed when I was called Fatima’s husband and my mother still grinned and shook her head when she saw me holding Fatima’s hands on our way back home after we had played all over the neighbourhood. At first, it meant nothing for us to be seen together. Then we finished our Junior secondary school exams and returned home for that long holiday.

I had barely dropped my bag on returning home before I was out of the house to go and say hi to Fatima. Over the years, they had moved into another compound and we too had moved into another one but we still lived close to each other. I knew she would be home as Kaduna was closer to Kano compared to where I was coming from.

The sound of music reached me from a distance. There was a party going on in the compound and I could hear the excited voices over the din of music.
I entered through the gate and immediately I was stuck with the beauty of Fatima. She wore a veil covering her hair and her face but I knew she was the one because she stopped moving on seeing me. I smiled at her, unsure of what to do on seeing all the finery she wore. I was wearing a pair of jeans trousers and my favorite old purple Tshirt, I wasn’t expecting a party.

My parents had not told me of the party. We stood still staring at one another until one shriveled matron pushed Fatima from behind and she turned and continued walking. She never looked back again until she disappeared from view.

I stood there waiting for someone to recognize me and say hi but I was basically ignored until Alahji Bashir came out. Alahji Bashir was a wealthy merchant in our community. He had a big shop in the big market where he sold food stuffs. He also had cattle holdings as well as several other investments. Papa always talked about him. I watched him come out of them Fatima’s house smiling. I wondered what had brought him to the house then I saw the person behind him.

He had not changed much over the years from that time, Ahmed. He was still the same ugly brute with a mean streak that he had been since we were little kids, when he used to beat and bully myself and Fatima on our way back from school.

He saw me immediately and grinned at me. He tapped his father and whispered to him, pointing at me and before I could find out what exactly was going on, I was tossed out of the compound by some rough looking men.

I ran home confused and mama on seeing my face asked me what was wrong and I told her. She shook her head sadly and informed me that Fatima was getting engaged to Ahmed. Does that mean they were married now? I had asked then but mama had shaken her head. She had informed me that it was not official yet. She told me that they plan to get wedded once Fatima was done with school. I cried that night and refused to eat. I didn’t know why I cried then but hearing that Fatima was going to be married to that monster hurt badly. Something had to be done.

---

TO BE CONTINUED...

---

©warpedpoetic, 2018