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Written by: Victor Chinoo
“If you move, I will shoot!” The voice shouted. Jimoh sprang to his feet, mustering all his strength to reach his gun. By the time he grabbed it, bullets sprayed at him, catching him in the shoulder and the leg. He dropped his gun as blood gushed out of his shoulder, leg and arms. “Get him,” a voice shouted. Miranda was shaking feverishly, trying to cover her nakedness with her clothes. She grabbed her blouse in sheer shock and placed it over herself. Her hands quivered as a train of tears snaked down her face.
Plain cloth policemen dashed towards Jimoh, taking hold of him. “You are safe now, Miss Miranda,” one of them said looking away from Miranda. Sergeant Sule, the officer in charge of Princewill’s case, whom Miranda had been in touch with appeared with more policemen. They scurried through beaten paths among shrubs, brandishing their guns eagerly. They all looked away quickly, allowing Miranda time to get dressed.
“What took you so long?” Miranda asked after jumping back into her clothes, tears still streaming down her face. Even after getting dressed, she still wrapped her arms around herself as though to cover herself further. “He raped me…he raped me!” She cried to Sule, who took her in his arms. “I am sorry, we were following you with the tracker in your purse, but this is a thick forest. It was hard to pinpoint your exact location until we found the driver in the Mercedes,” Sule explained. “He raped me. He raped me,” Miranda cried uncontrollable. “I thought I could trust the Nigerian police. I trusted you to get me out of the situation quickly enough,” she added. “Of course you can trust the Nigerian police. Not all Nigerian policemen are bad,” Sule replied calmly, well aware they had let her down, and that she could have been killed after the rape.
Miranda was taken straight to hospital and so was Jimoh, who was heavily guarded. Yusuf was detained at Alagbon police station. Officers at Alagbon police station grilled him brutally, beating him without restraint in a frantic effort to extract information from him on Princewill’s whereabouts. They were eager to find out who they worked for. Alagbon police station is perhaps the most dreaded police station in Nigeria. Despite the beating though, Yusuf would not divulge any information.
“Hello,” Dayo’s voice came over the line. “Who am I speaking with?” Sergeant Sule asked. “You called me and you are asking me who you are speaking with. Please explain yourself before I hang up,” Dayo said derisively. “I am Sergeant Sule from the Alagbon police station,” Sule explained. “We have one Mr. Jimoh Adeyinka in our custody for rape, kidnapping, attempted murder and possible murder of one Mr. Princewill Oleka who went missing some days back.
“Your phone number was the last number to call Mr. Jimoh, and looking through his call records, we can see that you have been in touch with him a lot for quite some time now, but particularly over the last few days. We would like you to come in and answer a few questions at Alagbon Police station.” “I know nothing about Mr. Jimoh…erm; did you say his full name is what?” Dayo asked. “His full name is Mr. Jimoh Adeyinka and we have already looked up your number with Etisalat, sir. You are Chief Dayo Oluremi. I do not think it is necessary to be evasive, sir. Unless you want us to place you under arrest, please could you come to Alagbon police station by 11:30AM tomorrow for routine questioning?”
“I will be there with my lawyer in the morning,” Dayo replied resignedly. As soon as he hung up, he got up and kicked the chair across in front of him. “Stupid Jimoh! What has he done? What sort of policeman is this by the way? Nigerian police working like oyibo police?” He yelled in frustration. He called his lawyer immediately to make plans for the next day. Afterwards, he called the inspector general of police whom he knew very well to inform him that one of his boys at Alagbon police station was troubling him. “It should not be a big problem, Dayo,” the inspector general of police assured him. Go in with your lawyer and talk to them. Let me know how that goes. I am sure this is something we can handle,” he assured him. “I am counting on you, inspector.”
“Modupe, I am here now,” Biola said. I am very glad to have you back.” He hugged her firmly and she hugged him back. Her face was embellished with smiles as she wrapped her arms around him. “I dreamed of you all through the time I was in coma. I…I…missed you, sort of,” she said with a smile. “I have always missed you, Modupe. I am willing to do anything to prove that to you.” “Before the attack, I was willing to do anything to stay away from you, but now that I have come that close to death, I guess my perspective has changed. I could have died. I could still die tomorrow…and that applies to all of us. We ought to make the most of every day. I did fall in love with you, Biola, but I was worried about coming in-between you and Bimbo.”
“That is what makes you special, Modupe. Most Naija girls would have jumped at that opportunity, crushing my relationship with Bimbo to take over, but not you. You would not do that – that endeared you to me even more,” Biola replied excitedly.
Biola’s phone rang and he took the call. “Hi honey, I just arrived in London. So, where are you staying?” Bimbo asked. Biola was somewhat agitated…bemused, to say the least. “You did not tell me you were coming to London.” He quickly stepped outside for some privacy. “Are you not pleased that I am here?” “Of course I am, but…but…” “But what, honey? I can tell from your voice that you are not happy that I am in London. What is it?”
“Nothing, darling…nothing.” “Are you sure?” “Of course.” “Then, tell me where you are staying so I can meet you there.” “I am staying in a hotel in East London. I will send you the name and the address in a moment. Do you want me to pick you up?” “I wouldn’t mind.” “Okay, I will be at Heathrow in a while.”
A million thoughts zipped through Biola’s mind. “What are you going to do?” Deji asked him afterwards. “Let’s drive to Heathrow and pick her up.” “What about Modupe? Are you going to check into a hotel first?” “Yes, let’s do that, run over to your place, pick my things and drop them off at the hotel before going to pick her up.” “This is messy, Biola. I think you should come out straight and tell her you don’t love her.” Biola took a deep breath. He was tired – emotionally zapped. “You are right; I can’t keep on doing this. It makes no sense. I will have to end this, soon enough.”
He entered the hospital room and told Modupe that he had to run a few errands. “Your parents will take care of things. I will see you in the morning,” he explained to Modupe. “What is going on, Biola? A few minutes ago, you were excited to chat with me, and now you have to run errands. And, I won’t see you until tomorrow? She is here, right?” Modupe asked, referring to Bimbo.
Biola could not look her in the eye. He faced the floor, avoiding her eyes. “I will explain everything to you when I come back, Modupe,” he said in a somber tone. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you truly love me,” she demanded. “Of course I love you, Modupe. I have never been this in love with anyone. I love you with every drop of blood that runs in my veins!” “I will see you later then,” Modupe said, her voice imbued with strength and hope. “Yes, love…yes, you will.” Biola ran off with Deji to his car.
“I really wish we could make love, Biola,” Bimbo said as she walked out of the bathroom, wearing a skimpy see-through night gown. “I like your idea though, but you know…I still miss making love with you. I can’t wait to be married to you, Biola.” She joined him on the couch in the hotel room, rubbing her bosom against his body. “I have to ask you something, Bimbo.” “What is it darling?” “Did you hire someone to attack Modupe?” She sat up and peered into his face. “What is this all about? I thought we agreed to never talk about her. Why are you asking me about her now?” “For the last time, Bimbs, did you try to kill her? She is someone’s daughter and someone almost killed her because of me, I suppose, so, I deserve to know what happened…that is, if you were involved. I deserve to know the truth, if we are to get married. We need to place all the cards on the table.”
“Of course not! I did no such thing! What do you take me for? Are you still in love with her?” “You had nothing to do with the attack?” “Hell, no!!!” Biola took a deep breath, scrutinizing her face carefully. “I have to apologize massively for what I am about to say, Bimbs. I…I…” “What is it? I knew something was going on. You never wanted me to come to London, right?” “I am not in love with you, Bimbo!” Bimbo saw tiny stars dangling in her face. Then they faded, only for new ones to reappear. She could not feel anything. She went numb. She could hear nothing except for the rampage drumming violently in her mind.
A dense stream of tears cascaded down her face. “I am really sorry,” Biola said pitiably. “Be sorry for yourself!!! What kind of guy are you? You have no soul! It is Modupe, right? You are here in London with her aren’t you?” “Not really. I brought her to London for surgery…to save her life. Her parents have been in London taking care of her. I came over to check in on her.” “Get out! Get out of here! I never want to see you again. Get the hell out, Biola. I never want to see you again!”
“I am really sorry, Bimbo. I did not mean to toy with your emotions. I wanted to find out if you were involved in the attack on Modupe.” “So I am a pun, right? Your chess piece? You move me in whatever direction you wish to get what you want while lying to me. I curse the day I met you, Biola!!!” She was yelling hysterically. She picked up one of her slippers and threw it at him. “Get out!” She yelled, her voice getting louder. “I don’t care what happens to that Modupe of a girl. If she is going to die, then, let her die!!!” Bimbo added.
Biola got up and walked to the door. “I am really sorry. Please forgive me, Bimbo,” he said before leaving. He felt a pang of guilt as he walked along the hallway, dragging his luggage with him back to Deji’s apartment. Bimbo could not bear the searing pain waltzing through her body and mind.
Impulsively, she picked up her phone and called the police. “Mam, how can we help you,” a female voice asked over the line. “I have been raped,” she replied. “Where are you? Do you know the rapist?” “Yes, his name is Biola Awe. We have been friends for some time, and we even dated. He wanted to have sex with me, which I refused, but he forced himself on me.” “Do you know where he is?” “No, I don’t. He just left my hotel room though, so he can’t be far away.” “We traced your call, so we have your location. What does he look like?” Bimbo went on to describe Biola to the police dispatcher.
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