Who is Anisa Haque?

Chapter 9 - Mukhtar

Mukhtar, Indian Ocean.

Many things came easy for Muktar, but sleep wasn't one of them. Even on this very long haul flight from Sydney to Abuja, where the cabin walls were vibrating  from the impact of jet lagged snores, he couldn't sleep a wink.

It  was dark in this jet, the gulfstream G50, newest one in his fleet. The only source of light was from the reading lamp hovering above his head. He'd left it on deliberately, thinking perhaps going through the bulky binder full of terms and conditions for his Australian wheat contract would bore his mind to sleep, yet, here he was 220 pages deep without as little as a lazy yawn.

"You need a holiday," the doctor had said. 'Perhaps a change of scenery would help you sleep better.'

Mukhtar agreed. It had been a while since he had been somewhere new. A change of scenery was certainly welcome.

But where would he go? He used to love Aspen. Especially this time of the year. When he was young, he'd take on the steepest slalom even when he knew he was an amateur. He'd wobble and stumble and sprain every joint in his body until he mastered the slope and half pipe.

That was his way, his philosophy of life. Take on the scary and unfamiliar, then conquer it!

But he was much too old for that now. Between work, insomnia and what felt like the early stages of chronic fatigue, he knew a trip to Colorado would only sadden him over what was and could now never be.

Then there's Grenada. Last year his friend Georges Cohen had invited the family to Calivigny, his little island just off the coast in Grenada and Mukhtar had enjoyed it tremendously.

The tropical paradise island reminded him of the movie castaway. It was his first real holiday in 6 years and Georges had taken away his laptop, iPad and mobile phones, allowing him to fully indulge and enjoy an adventurous vacation.

But it'd make little sense going there now, without the family. If he went alone, he knew he would just end up working and it'd be no different to staying put in Lagos.

He had thought buying a new jet would help. That ought to count for a change in scenery, right? Spending time in a new, unfamiliar cabin. But sitting here covered in the most luxurious goose down comforter money could buy, he realised from the inside there wasn't much of a difference between sleeping in the new jet and the old.

They were both painfully comfortable, dark and familiar. At this rate, if he wanted a change of scenery he'd have to wait for the trip to space he had reserved five years ago. What's taking Branson so long? He wondered.

He had been to amazing places in the last two weeks, Mykonos, Lech, Wellington, Brisbane, Sydney. Wonderful places! But it had been work, work, work! And the beauty of these places has been lost to familiar looking office spaces, 20 hour meetings and endless conference calls with solicitors. He barely had thirty minutes a day to call the people he loved. 

Oh, the family! He missed them so much.

Haseenah was married now and pregnant with a girl. He couldn't wait to be a grandpa!

Habeeba was running the fastest growing food and confectionery conglomerate in the country. She already has 12 restaurants and two cake factories up and running.

Hafsat was doing her MBA at Stanford. He was sure his older daughters were all doing very well. He was also sure his only son, 9 year old Mukhtar Jnr aka Abba was okay thanks  to the "Daddy when are you coming home" phone calls every 3 hours.

It was the other two he worried about.

Iman and Ihsan.

The twins.