Anaya: A Dark Voyage [#1 LightBlood Series]

Chapter 23 - Unholy Faces

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The Past.
A Day after Nia's death.
19 April 2019.

There was the jingling of a key in a doorknob as it was being turned, leading to the heavy hand-hewn door being swung open. Olamide walked through the door, the door keys in one hand and brown envelopes in the other. Looking at the suit he wore, it seemed as if he had just come from work or a professional setting. He looked very good in it too. Upon first glance, it was apparent the suit was tailored for him. It was a perfect fit and had a wide pattern of herringbone which gave it a sleek and stylish appearance. The long-sleeve shirt underneath it appeared very neatly ironed and as white as camphor. The trousers weren't any different.

It was odd that he was looking a lot better than you would expect from a man whose daughter mysteriously disappeared on her birthday three years ago. Word had it that he was never bothered by Nia Afriyie's disappearance; It seemed as if he was relieved of the pain of having to see his dead wife in the body of a young woman he didn't want anything to do with. He never made any attempt to file a missing person's report at the police station or even bothered to search for her.

"That child has turned into something else! How sure are you she's not with some stupid guy somewhere as we speak?" was all he said when Amara brought it up that they searched for Nia Afriyie. He said that with no care in the world. That wasn't the only instance — There were many others.

Once, he was watching the news when the prevalent issue of street children in Kolontou was being addressed in a documentary.

"...for different reasons, these children leave their homes and society. Some of these reasons include poverty, Sexual abuse, domestic violence, parental alcohol abuse, poor parental care, just to mention the few..." The voice on the television echoed.

Olamide chuckled, a bottle of his usual beer in his hand, as he stared at the journalist on the television screen. He wanted to pull her out of it and strangle her to death for being so blasphemous.

"What about children who are devils in disguise, huh?" He hissed and paused as if he was waiting for someone to reply but nothing of that sort happened. He continued seconds after saying, "What about those children who will kill their own mother at birth just to ruin a perfect home then run away from the house when they turn eighteen?" He stormed over to the television and switched it off. He would hear no more.

"If you ask me, seventy percent of these children on the streets got themselves to blame more than their parents," he added, like some end credit of a vile children cartoon series and strode off.

As the disappointing show Olamide had going on was happening, Amara stood by the entrance to the living room watching him. She heaved a loud sigh when he walked away, staggering like a toddler trying out his first walk. She wished she could do something to help her brother from the dark hole he had fallen into, but most importantly, she wished Olamide was right about Nia Afriyie — that she had only just left home to be free from her father's ill-treatment and not because something bad had happened to her. But if only wishes were horses.