When i got home and told Zuby that Mike abused me, he picked up his jacket and left the apartment.
He said he was going to confront and warn Mike Off me once and for all.
I knew he could face Mike in a fight but i didn’t want him to do that; atleast not yet. He was supposed to leave for Amsterdam in two days and a fight could always result to anything unpleasant.
I prayed that he returned home safely because Mike and his friends were violent. They claimed they were the area boys in Castel Volturno and each time someone arrives in Castel Volturno, they would force him to pay them some money or may be if the person was a girl, they would want to sleep with her. It was through one of those intimidation method that i came to know Mike in the first place.
Due to the fact that i didn’t live consistently in one place, Mike never knew how i operated. Sometimes it took us one year to meet again but ever since i moved to my new apartment, we ran into each other regularly.
Since i had became free from Madam Philo, Mike became a history in my life. I no longer answered his phone calls and i no longer visited him.
When Zuby came to Castel Volturno, Mike confronted him at the Shopping Mall in Domitiana way. They nearly had a fight but for some reasons, it didn’t happen.
The way things were happening, it was only a matter of time before they fight each other physically and i had no doubt that he would harm Zuby, although Zuby was unpredictable himself.
Ever since he told me that it was him who set me up in Surulere back when i traveled to Nigeria, i began to think that he could also be very dangerous.
The only advantage Mike had was that he lived in Castel Volturno for long while Zuby just arrived.
Back in the apartment, i put Zuby through some of the things he needed to know before traveling to Libya. I also gave him 17000 Euros from the money i brought from Hungary. I haven’t told him how the money came and he didn’t ask. I believed that i had more time to discuss that when he return from Tripoli.
On the day before his departure, i went into town and purchased two Nokia phones for Ngozi and Fatimah. It seemed they were both having problems with Zuby. Each time i was around in the house, they never talked to him. They just lived as if he didn’t exist. It was difficult to know if that was a good or bad sign.
I didn’t want them to have any kind of relationship with Zuby. My plan was to rent a new one bedroom apartment for both of them when Zuby leaves for Italy. The new girls from Libya would also relocate to the new apartment. Zuby and I would be left to live our lives in privacy. We would make love all over the house; in the Kitchen, in the sitting room and in the bathroom without looking over our shoulders.
Life was going to be so good as soon as the Libya business fall through.
On that Sunday morning, I watched as Zuby hid the money in his jean belthole. He tactically stuffed about 12000 Euros in the hole and put the rest in his pocket. When he was done, he wore his pullover, picked his ticket and sat in the sitting room. When i asked what he was doing there, he said he liked to relax like that and meditate for a few minutes before traveling by air.
As soon as i announced that i was ready, he stood up and followed me outside.
I carried his red bag while he carried my small handbag.
We took a cab all the way to the airport and waited until it was time for him to board, then he told me to go.
I refused and told him that i wanted to make sure they left before i go but he reminded me that he should be worrying more about me instead of the other way round. It sounded romantic and i obeyed him.
Outside the airport, i took a cab back home.
Fatimah was standing in front of the house when i arrived. The way she paced outside in that cold weather, i figured that something was terribly wrong. Something happened and i didn’t wait for her to start talking before i shouted, “What are you doing outside here in this weather?”
“Aunty there is trouble. That man is not going to marry you. He is running away with Ngozi as we speak” Fatimah shouted.
“What are you talking about? I just see him off to the airport” i said, trying to figure out what Fatimah was talking about.
“Aunty i have been trying to call you on the phone but somebody is jamming my calls and wouldn’t allow it to go through. The phone started ringing five minutes ago but you didn’t answer. I wanted to tell you what happened. He is running away with Ngozi” Fatimah continued.
I put my hand in my handbag and brought out my phone. Sure enough, there were over 15 missed calls from Fatimah.
How could i not have heard my phone ringing?
It didn’t make any sense because my phone has always been loud enough when it rang.
A small icon at the top right corner of the phone screen confirmed that the phone was deliberately switched to vibration alert only.
There was no way i could have known that the phone was ringing unless it was in my trouser pocket, unfortunately, it was inside my handbag.
What Fatimah said began to make sense.
I opened the door and went inside the house with Fatimah. We sat in the sitting room and i dialed Zuby’s number, it was switched off. It was supposed to be off, Zuby must have been in the air by then.
But Ngozi? I called her. Her own phone was switched off too.
Where was i supposed to start looking for them? I couldnt even think at that stage.
“How did this happen without my knowledge?” i turned and asked Fatimah.
She better say something concrete or i would smash her head on the wall.
“Since he came here, he has been telling us that we will become prostitutes and useless if we don’t follow him out of this place” Fatimah said.
“So why are you just telling me about it now?” I stood up and picked the mop stick in the parlour.
Something was wrong. Zuby could be running away with my girl for real. He could also be running away with my money but above all, he was running away with my heart.