Sani grabbed his phone
from the charger, the screen lighting up as he unlocked it. He checked the
time—it was already past 8:30 PM. He slipped it into his pocket, glancing
around his room. Everything seemed in place. As he looked in the mirror, he
felt the familiar mix of anticipation and frustration gnawing at him. He and
Zola had been fighting for some days. He hoped tonight would be different, he
wanted to see Zola and patch up things with her. He just hoped she would show
up this time.
His mother’s voice
interrupted his thoughts as he reached for his jacket by the door. "Sani,
where are you headed?"
He turned to see her
standing in the hallway, her eyes filled with concern. "I’m going to see
Zola," he replied, giving her a reassuring smile.
His mother hesitated
for a moment, her gaze flickering toward the television where the evening news
played in the background. The newscaster's voice filled the room, detailing the
political unrest sweeping the city. “Be careful out there,” she said softly,
her eyes fixed on the screen. “Things have been tense lately with all these
abductions. And the elections... they’re coming up soon. The debate’s only a
few days away.”
Sani shrugged, trying
to ease her worries. "I’ll be careful, Mom. It’s not like I’m involved in
any of that stuff. Just going to meet up with Zola." He gave her a quick
smile, hoping to assure her but it was more reassuring to him.
She didn’t look
convinced, but she nodded. "Just be safe, alright? The world’s changing,
and it’s not like it used to be."
“I know,” Sani said,
turning toward the door. “I’ll be fine. I’m not getting caught up in any of
that.”
As he stepped outside,
the cool night air hit him, the light was bright from the full moon. Sani
remembered an article he had read that the full moon brings with it misery and
death. “It is all fiction anyway; astrology is not real” he murmured to himself
as he began walking. The street was quiet, the distant hum of traffic blending
with the low murmur of the television from inside his house. The upcoming
elections were on everyone’s mind, and though he wasn’t directly involved in
politics, the growing tension was impossible to ignore. The news station ran a
segment about the gubernatorial debate scheduled in just a few days, followed
by a discussion of the recent kidnappings that had left the city on edge.
Sani shook his head,
pushing the thoughts aside. Zola was waiting. That was all that mattered right
now.
Zola stood
in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her teeth deep in her own thoughts.
Her mother and younger brother, Tim, sat at the kitchen table, their eyes fixed
on the screen as the news flashed through its endless cycle of political unrest
and local events—topics that seemed impossible to ignore these days. Their
father, was out on his night shift, working as a security guard at a local
retail shop. The house felt quieter than usual without him.
Zola spit
out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth, glancing at her reflection momentarily.
She hadn’t heard anything from Sani all evening, and a part of her was already
disappointed, but she couldn’t dwell on that now. Her attention was drawn back
to the muffled voices coming from the kitchen.
Suddenly, a
shout pierced the air. “Zola! Help! Mom—Mom’s not moving!” Tim’s voice trembled
with panic.
Zola’s
heart skipped a beat. She rushed into the kitchen, her mind racing. Her mother
was slumped against the table, her eyes closed, and her body still. Zola’s
breath caught in her throat as she dropped to her knees beside her.
“Mom! Mom!”
she cried, shaking her mother’s shoulders. But there was no response.
Tim stood
frozen in the doorway, his face pale and wide-eyed with fear. Zola’s hands
shook as she grabbed her phone, dialing the emergency number as her voice
cracked. “Please, I need help. My mom... she’s not breathing.”
She dropped
the phone to her side as she moved to her mother’s chest, unsure of how to
help. She began performing CPR, the steps more out of memory than confidence.
With every compression, she silently prayed it would work. Her mind was clouded
with disbelief—how could her mother, perfectly fine a moment ago, now be lying
motionless on the floor?
“Mom,
please... please stay with me,” Zola whispered, her voice cracking under the
weight of her fear.
The sound
of the ambulance siren grew louder in the distance. Tim’s soft sobs filled the
air, and Zola could feel the weight of the helplessness pressing down on her.
The
paramedics swiftly arrived, but even they seemed to struggle against the tide
of uncertainty. They took over, working with urgency, and Zola tried to steady
herself, but her hands remained trembling. The ride to the hospital felt like
an eternity, every second stretching out as if time itself was refusing to let
her mother go.
When they
finally arrived at the hospital, the news hit hard. The doctors informed Zola
that her mother needed immediate surgery, but the hospital demanded payment
upfront. Her heart sank as they told her the government health insurance
couldn’t cover the full cost. The figure they quoted was an impossible sum.
“I don’t
have the money,” Zola whispered, pleading. “Please, you have to help. My mom
needs this surgery. We’ll figure out the payment. Just treat her!”
But her
cries fell on deaf ears.
Tim,
frantic, had called their father, and soon he arrived, out of breath and
panicked. He rushed to Zola’s side, trying to get to his wife. “Please, just do
the surgery,” he begged, his voice filled with desperation. “We’ll pay the rest
in a few days, I promise. Just... don’t let her die.”
But in the
commotion, Zola’s mother’s heart gave out. A final, cruel blow. At 9:25 PM, her
mother was pronounced dead.
Zola
collapsed against the wall, her mind spinning in disbelief. The world felt as
though it had shifted beneath her, and there was no firm ground left to stand
on. As tears rolled down her cheeks her heart screamed in silence, torn between
the loss of the woman who had given her everything and the harsh reality of a
world that didn’t care.
Sani sat on
the bench; his eyes fixed on the empty street before him. He looked at his
watch again—an hour had passed since they agreed to meet, and there was still
no sign of Zola. He sighed and pulled out his phone, hoping for a message or
call, but the screen was just as empty as it had been the last few times he'd
checked. He dialled Zola’s number again, and once again, it went straight to
voicemail. “Not even a text,” he muttered to himself. His fingers tightened
around the phone in his hand, and he thought back to the last argument they
had, the one about poor communication. The irony wasn’t lost on him—it was
coming from the same person who now seemed to be actively ignoring him.
Sani’s
stomach turned. He had had enough. With a final look at the empty sidewalk, he
pushed himself up from the bench, ready to walk away. Maybe it was better this
way—he didn’t need to sit around waiting for someone who didn’t care enough to
show up.
Just as he
started walking, he checked his phone one last time, almost as if hoping for
some miracle. But the screen still showed nothing. He turned to leave, but
before he could take another step, someone collided with him. The impact sent
his phone tumbling from his hand, and he winced as it hit the ground, the
unmistakable crack of breaking glass echoing in the empty street.
"Looks
like someone's having a rough night," a voice remarked with an amused
tone.
Sani bent
down quickly to grab his phone, but his heart sank when he saw the screen
shattered beyond repair. He sighed in frustration and glanced up at the
stranger who had bumped into him—a lady with an easy smile and no
remorsefulness in her eyes.
"Great,"
he muttered. "Just what I needed."
The lady,
seemingly unfazed by the situation, pulled out her own phone and extended it
toward him. "Here, use mine to call whoever you need to. Looks like you
could use a break from the tech mishap."
Sani took
the phone reluctantly, staring at the screen for a moment before shaking his
head. "It’s not going to help," he said, his voice filled with
bitterness. "Whoever I try to call is ignoring me anyway."
The lady
raised an eyebrow, studying him with a curious look. "Sounds like a tough
situation," she said, her tone shifting to something more sympathetic.
"Name’s Herina. But I get it. Relationships can be... complicated.
Sometimes you just need to vent it out."
Sani
half-laughed, half-sighed, his frustration bubbling up again. "Yeah, well,
it’s more than just complicated. I’ve been stood up for over an hour, and she’s
not even bothering to answer."
Herina
smiled, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "If you’re so frustrated, why not
take it out in a better way? I know a place nearby. Why don’t you come with me,
let’s have some fun, and you can tell me all about this frustrating day of
yours?"
Sani
hesitated, but her offer lingered in the air, tempting him. Maybe it was time
to stop sitting around moping. Maybe it was time to forget about Zola and just
enjoy the night for once.
He gave her
a half-hearted smile. "Why not? Couldn’t hurt."
Herina
grinned. "That's the spirit. Come on, let’s go have some fun."
Sani
noticed that Herina was a little uneasy and restless, he wondered to himself
what that was about but didn’t want to hear any more sob stories, so he let it
go. As they approached a club, Sani recalled that the only one time he had ever
set foot in a club was to look for his uncle who had gone into hiding after a
debt collection agency came after him.