Sane Shuaib is the best version of him you can ever get, he speaks with so much confidence and coherence that you might begin to wonder what went wrong initially with him. The exact problem is one that I am determined to root out, but first, I must find someone willing to divulge the full story about Shuaib’s well-kept secret. There was one Mallam that lived at the edge of our street, at No. 2 he owned a kiosk where he sold items such as petty provisions and also dealt with gold and other jewellery he was called Amir. He was known to frequently travel to the northern part of the country and back, when asked why he’s not always available he simply replies, 'my wives and farm’. He’s ever seen hanging out with Shuaib, which suggested that they were close. However, he also confessed to coming from the same state as Shuaib, that made me figure that he must know a few things about him that was oblivious to the rest of us, he was a happy guy, always smiling and full of joy whenever he saw Shuaib but when we were without him, Amir’s face was unwelcoming, made me wonder what we did wrong. I spent the next couple of weeks thinking about what I could do to persuade him to divulge Shuaib’s well-kept secrets. But first, I had to understand what Amir's weaknesses were.
After spending the next couple of days, smoking a northern brand of skushis with Shuaib and Amir, I was able to get from their jokes that there was a particular brand of weed, Amir enjoys the most, above everything else was 'Turantashi’ it was so potent that it was rumoured to have been mixed with the venom of the African black mamba snake, it’s high, lasted for days. But it was so expensive, and yet rare to find. The only people who sold it were the ‘snake slingers’ as they were called; they were also the only ones, strong enough to smoke it. From our discussions, Amir came from a long line of snake slingers.
The thing about snake slingers is that they prefer to hide in ghettos, or places inaccessible to ordinary people. Apart from the mysterious nature of snakes, they also deal with several other illegal substances and tools such as guns. So for an outsider to get in there you must exhibit some level of ruggedness, one which I was prepared for, the price for Shuaib’s secret was so high, I was ready to do anything to get the information, that information was crucial to my plans.
I ran off to Iya-Toheeb’s shop and requested my last payment, after a bit of back and forth, she was able to pay me enough money for my services. Then I proceeded to kabiru’s shack, the most famous drug dealer on our street. I toasted him about the drug and at first he declined knowledge about how to get it. Still, after minutes of persuasion he finally agreed to help me get them, at first he asked what I needed it for, and I told him it was personal, he didn’t insist, so I gave him the amount he requested which was times two the original price he tagged it, 'exposure fee’. A few days later, he came bearing gifts after a series of lamentations about how police almost caught him evading dangerous snakes, and he asked for more money before he could release the product. Still, since I wasn’t in the mood of any arguments, I simply gave it to him. After i collected my product, now unto the next phase.
Giving the weed to Amir was quite tricky because firstly, I couldn’t give him in the presence of Shuaib, he would suspect something and secondly, Amir was inaccessible whenever Shuaib was absent, so I decided to ambush him the next night when he walked back home from the mosque he regularly visited. Only for me to hear from Shuaib the next morning while we gisted with the boys that Amir already travelled the previous night. After going through so much stress, my hopes were dashed, 'maybe it was time to remove Shuaib from my plans.’ I thought.
(Present Day)
We all ran out of the joint, towards where Baba-Toheeb was, we could hear wailings and screams, and it turned out that he was at No. 15. By the time we entered the house and saw him in Iya-Jeda’s room, we knew immediately that the rumours of the past few weeks were true. Baba-Jeda was the only vulcaniser on our street, and according to the various gists I heard, he had been close friends with Baba-Toheeb for ages now, while he slept with his wife. But what we found surprising the most was no one expected Iya-Jeda. She didn’t seem like an adulterer, but I guess her husband thought otherwise, hence the ‘magun’. We all tried our best to save Baba-Toheeb including going to Baba-Jagumono’s the famous herbalist’s house but to no avail as he chased us away from his home, praying that 'sopono’ the god of smallpox befalls anyone who disturbs him. At precisely midnight, Baba-Toheeb barked the third and last time and breathed his last.
We all went home, quietly the solemn realisation of what had just occurred creeped into our hearts, I mostly felt cold shivers run down my spine as it could’ve been me. The next couple of hours after, Baba-Toheeb’s death brought about a strange calmness to the street, and everyone was in their best behaviour, people opened their shops later than expected and closed their doors earlier than usual. There was an eerie feeling everywhere, we all knew something was wrong, but we couldn’t place our fingers on it, according to Islamic rites Baba-Toheeb was buried the next day. Even the Alfa Quadri, the Imam of Olorunshogo mosque on our street at first, declined to pray over his body, citing Islamic reasons since he died a sinful and shameful death. Still, it took the street’s elders persuading him to re-roofing the entire mosque, did he reluctantly agree. Iya-Toheeb was taken out of view as she was to begin the 41 days mourning period. My friends and I attended the funeral. It was indeed a sad day, no one deserved to die the way he did.
As I turned to leave with my friends, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, the next I saw was Simbiat. At first, I was perplexed because I hadn’t expected to see her, knowing fully well that she had no relationship with her father and secondly, the grudge she had with her mother. There was a weird silence between us and for a few seconds till she spoke, 'Can I stay with you for the next few days?’ she wore dark sunglasses to conceal the fact that she had been crying, but it made little effort, her face was red. I asked if it was a great idea because I knew how things were between us, and I knew she was emotional at the moment, not wanting her to think I was taking advantage of her, but she said she was comfortable with staying with me, and so I agreed to her request. We both left the burial site, together holding hands, my friend was back. Immediately we got to my place, she went straight to the and slept off, and I figured she must’ve been exhausted as I used that time to prepare a meal for her, she might’ve been hungry. After what seemed like forever she woke up, I asked if everything was alright, and she murmured something that didn’t seem like a coherent response. But I didn’t want to push, and I asked if she was hungry and she replied that she was, so I dished the meal for her, while she ate in silence as I sat on the table at the centre of the room leaving her alone on the bed. She had just taken a few spoons of the meal when she began to speak, 'Do you know why I detested him?’ I replied to her 'No, but I always wondered why?’ She gulped out of the glass of water, and said, 'He always raped me since I was a child.’
Whaaaaaaaat😲😳
Whaaaaaaat? Okay, maybe Baba Toheeb deserved what he got.