So Much For Love

Chapter Eleven

The voice of a man cut through across the lot and it seemed to have wielded the magic of stopping them.

“What are you doing here?” One of them asked as he struggled to straighten himself up and his eyes opened. “You can’t do anything to us.”

“We will maim you with our machetes right now if you don’t go away!” one other went ahead to threaten.

Zainab felt a sudden rush of adrenalin mixed with hope by just seeing another man that walked upright and looked normal.

She’d once again tried to wiggle herself from their clutches, craving for freedom and at the same time, implored him not to leave.

She didn’t know him, had never seen him, let alone trust him. But he was the only one there who wasn’t bent on violating her.

To her, he was the good guy.

And from the way the thugs panicked when they saw him, she knew he was her only lifeline.

Her rescuer, all dressed up in jet black traditional attires, let his dogs loose at them while at the same time brought out his locally-made Dane gun and shot a bullet and the ash gun powder was released straight in to the air!

The sound up close was almost deafening that Zainab placed her palms to save her ear drums.

That did the trick! They all bolted, dropping their weed and all and disappeared in to the bushes with the dogs hot on their trails.

He then walked up to her slowly, giving her ample time to stand up from her squatting position.

“Are you alright?” He’d asked with a genuine concern pasted on his face.

Too shocked to respond, she nodded with more energy than she had intended.

“Very good.” He then passed on a small gourd that probably contained drinking water and continued, “Here, just wash your face and leave before they return.”

She reluctantly took the gourd and eyed it suspiciously. She didn’t want a case of a rescue turned nightmare.

She washed her face and felt pangs of pain and saw fresh blood oozing from her freshly cut wounds. She carefully cleaned it before she handed the gourd back to him.

He busied himself with tying it back by his shoulder.

“Which village are you from?” he’d asked without looking at her.

“Gaji.” Her reply was curt.

That was when he’d looked at her but only for a brief moment. He wore a solemn expression on his face so she couldn’t read anything.

He said nothing further, not so much as asked her name. He just turned and made to take his leave.

She stood there, rooted to the ground as if she had glue on her feet.

After a few steps, he turned when he realized she wasn’t following, “We don’t have all day. If you leave now, you might make it to Gaji before dusk.”

Slowly and reluctantly, she’d walked past him, picking up her pace as she limped due to injuries inflicted on her.

By that time his dogs were back, wagging their tails as they approached him. He patted them on the back lovingly.

“Bala will accompany you home from here.” He’d declared.

She looked at him with a thousand questions in her head. Who was Bala? Where had he been? What if the hooligans came back to attack her and the so called Bala?