A POISONED CHALICE (EPISODE 8)

in #fiction5 years ago

Mother said men are weak creatures but they like to think that they are strong. She said it pays to make them think they are in charge. When they are sure of their superiority, they let you alone. When you are alone, you can do what you wantFatima.


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pixabay: Engin_Akyurt


Several Years Ago…


“ What do you see in the Igbo boy?” mother asked, her eyes on the weaving shuttle on her loom.

Mother wove when she wanted to think. Father saw it as a hobby of hers but for mother it was more than that. It was where ideas flowered in her head.

“Obinna? He is just a friend. We always walked back from school when we were in primary school. He protected me from Ahmed’s bullying. He is smart and funny. Why do you ask?” Fatima replied.

“Do you think you can marry somebody like him?” Mother asked.

“Somebody like him? Mother I am just sixteen, why are we talking about marriage now?” Fatima retorted.

Her mother snorted and adjusted the pin then she turned to Fatima and studied her.

“In two years time, your father is going to make you marry a man of his choice. What will you do then?” Mother asked.

“A man of his choice? That is impossible! Father would not do something so outdated. He will let me choose my path.” Fatima replied with the assurance of the naïve.

Her mother chuckled and got up from the stool on which she sat down to weave. She walked to the lounge chair that Fatima was sitting on and sat beside her.

“Let me clarify something for you. You have been living in a bubble all your life. It is time to remove those rose tinted glasses off your eyes. Your father will marry you off to anyone he likes and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Mother said.

“I will run away with Obinna. We will find another place where no one can reach us and live happily. Obinna will protect me.” Fatima replied.

“I thought you said you were just friends? Listen child, that boy Obinna, if you care for him, you will leave him alone. Maybe your father will let your make your own choice, which I doubt, but note this, it will never be Obinna.” Mother said.

Fatima stared at her mother in shock at the finality of the statement. It was as if she was a different woman all of a sudden.

“Mother, that man that you were in love with, the one that you met after you married father, what happened to him?” Fatima asked.

Her mother brushed her hand over her gown, removing invisible specks off it without saying a word then she sighed.

“I was young and foolish. After that day, I never saw him again.” Mother replied.

“I don’t understand. If you loved him why didn’t you go with him? Why did you not leave father and elope with him?”

“My child you are still young and you think every need must be satisfied. With time you will come to understand that this is a man’s world and we, as women,bend to their wishes.” Mother replied.

The room was silent after the statement. For some minutes the only sound was the ticking of a clock and the sound of two lungs breathing. Fatima got up and headed to the door then she stopped and turned to her mother,

“I will not be used because I am a woman. I will choose my own path.” She said.

Her mother nodded her head then she cocked it to the side and studied her daughter,

“To do that, you need to learn to bend while you plot to stand tall. You need to give-in in order to win. If you can master the arts of working in the shadows, manipulating, retreating, then pushing forward, you will go far and maybe one day, you will be able to walk your own path without any chains. You could either be a strong woman who ruled her own behind her husband or a strong woman who is independent of any man. It is up to you.” Mother said, then she got up and went back to her loom.

Fatima studied her mother’s back for several minutes then she turned and left the room.


I will be strong
Within this frail body, I will be bone.
I will be taut like a spring about to leap
Back with an arrow ready to pierce
The heart of the enemy.
I will be brutal like a killing blow,
Breaking bones, numbing nerves, flaying flesh.
I will be a nightmare.

I will be the lips of redemption,
The arm of revenge.
I will settle bets and score points
With hollow points at point blank range,
I will be the queen and you will bow
Because you must
Because you have no choice.

Love? Love will die its death
Like all things that come and go
But I will be here watching and waiting,
Undeterred, unperturbed by the masses
Screaming rights and wrongs,
Good and evil, black and white.
When I am done, I will die a dozen deaths;
A heroine, a mother, a villainess, a daughter,
A nightmare prowling the edges of dreams.

No one will rule over me
But I will rule and subdue all.
No one will gird my banks
But I will flood all even mountains,
I will make them bow or crumble,
I will be queen of my domain.


Present Day...


Ahmed stared at the gun before him. He studied the gun with his hand on his chin, his eyes blank in deep thought. A knock, then a door opening roused him. He looked up as a lady walked into the office. The woman nodded her head and took a seat.

“So what do you have for me?” he asked.

“Two loads disappeared on the road. We believe that there are saboteurs in your organization. Also customs have held Mallam for questioning at their checkpoint at the border.” The woman replied.

"Who is in charge of that checkpoint?" He asked, rubbing the butt of the gun absently.

"Dauda Akbar" The lady replied.

Ahmed nodded his head then he sighed then he opened a drawer on his desk and studied the contents intently.

“I want you to do something for me.”

He said, bringing out a picture from the drawer. He passed the picture to the lady. The lady took the picture from his hand, looked at it and smiled,

“She is pretty.” The lady said.

Ahmed nodded and brought out an envelope. He tossed the envelope on the table and it slid across the table to stop before the woman.

“Find her and kill her. Her last known address and known associates is in the envelope along with your upfront payment.” He said.

The woman chuckled again then she got up and left the office.

Ahmed rubbed his hands over his eyes and sighed. He had to handle this with care. It would not do to make a mistake now. He picked up his phone and dialled a number.

"Mr Dauda what are you doing to my business sir?" he said as the person on the line said hello.


Stay Tuned For Episode 9
See previous episodes here;

Episode 1
Episode 2
Episode 3
Episode 4
Episode 5
Episode 6
Episode 7


©warpedpoetic, 2018.

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