I still hadn’t heard from Hauwa after one week, and I wondered whether she had missed my email or was simply overwhelmed with work. I did not want to call, as I was sure JK would leave no stone unturned in getting information out of them, knowing I would contact my closest girlfriends, and I did not want to put them in that position. Although I know my girlfriends would choose to protect me.
The tech awards were all over social media that weekend. From the moment I saw it, I went across all the social media to follow the event. Guess who was filled with so much pride when JK received his award that she momentarily forgot she had moved on? It was me!
I was confused when I saw Hauwa’u at the event, sitting with JK in one of the many videos I watched. The Tech industry was not her space, and even if my friend found herself at an event with JK, she would have made sure to sit many seats away from him. I still don’t understand why Hauwa acted that way, despite JK’s many attempts to be polite and respectful. They seemed to find a way to mutually exist because of me.
It looked weird the way Hauwa’u was gazing at JK like a lovesick teenager in the 10-second video clip. In that instance, I felt a little concerned for her; social media would likely blow it out of proportion, making it a Herculean task to explain to Alhaji, her husband. Worse, she was not even with her veil; her head was all exposed. Hauwa’u grew up in Lagos and did not cover her hair, but started doing so in public after she got married. Veils were left in the car on our nights out, but we weren’t expecting anyone to take pictures of us, and the venues of our nights out were our homes.
I reached for my phone to call Hawa’u, chuckling when I remembered yet again that it was not an option. The more I watched the clips, the more it meant something different. The last thought was preposterous. Hauwa’u and JK. The sun will cease to rise before that could happen. JK has a baby mama to wed, Hauwa’us unusual marriage arrangement and lifestyle, as well as animosity towards JK, would never allow it. I wondered if I had watched too many Nollywood movies recently for such plot twists to come easily to mind.
I logged out of the media space and clicked on the Economist magazine to read. I did not have the headspace to entertain such ridiculous thoughts. I made up my mind to stop checking online for JK and focus on myself and my girls.
I thought of calling my mom, but changed my mind. The last time I called, she begged me to contact JK, despite my instructions not to discuss JK at any time I called. She kept insisting that the girls need their father and would stubbornly not let me be, so I have given her a break equally. I still had not told my mother I was pregnant. I could almost predict my mom’s action. She would literally pass her phone to JK so that when my random call came through, he would answer it. Sometimes, I wonder who her child was, JK or me? She’s all about JK, this JK that, but can’t see what her precious JK had done to me, her own daughter. I love that woman to bits, but I swear, she is a sellout. Quite frankly, the connection between them sometimes makes me jealous. JK doesn’t play with my mom. He displays the same warmth and affection he has for his mom towards my mum. For that, he’s earned points with my family members. The way my mom sings his praises, he can do no wrong in her eyes. One day, my mum is on my side, and the next day she is on JK’s.
Dunni feels a profound connection with Lana at the leadership conference until chaos erupts from an explosion. They face terrifying uncertainty as masked men take them away, leading to fear and despair.
It was Day 2 of the 21st Century Belle Leadership Conference, and though Dunni had given her presentation on Day 1, she was already counting down the days until she could return home.
The sessions were engaging, and every speaker brought something fresh, real, and relatable, weaving in stories from their own lives that hit home for Dunni. Yet, despite enjoying every moment, she missed the familiar rhythms of Lagos—the sounds, the streets, the comfort of her own space. The conference was thoughtful, with breaks that let her stretch her legs and chat with others, a welcome change from the typical back-to-back presentations that drained you more than they inspired. This one felt human.
She had found an unexpected friend in Lana, a strikingly beautiful woman from Lagos who, like her, had left a young child behind to attend. Lana was magnetic, the kind of woman whose beauty stopped people in their tracks—effortless, commanding attention wherever she went. But it wasn’t her looks that bonded them; it was the immediate sense of kinship, the ease of their connection like they had known each other for years.
As Dunni entered the conference hall, she spotted Lana waving her over, a seat saved with a warm smile. It brought back memories of school days when saving a seat for a friend felt like an unspoken promise of loyalty. She waved back, feeling the comforting embrace of sisterhood. They were in their early thirties now, their lives busy and complicated, but here, in this moment, the connection felt as pure as those simpler days.
Just as Dunni settled into her seat beside Lana, an ear-splitting blast ripped through the hall, shattering the tranquil hum of conversation. The noise was deafening, a sudden explosion of sound that rattled the walls and sent glass raining down like jagged shards of terror. Screams tore through the air, blending with the harsh shatter of windows as the hall erupted into chaos. Dunni’s breath caught in her throat, her heart seizing as a thick cloud of dust surged from the east entrance, swallowing the space where Lana had stood just minutes before.
Time seemed to slow as her mind struggled to process the nightmare unfolding before her. The dust was suffocating, its gritty taste filling her lungs. The cries of the wounded echoed, mingling with desperate shouts for help. She locked eyes with Lana, their shared terror flashing like lightning. They reached for each other, but their hands never met in the madness.
Then, through the choking fog, a group of men stormed in. They moved with a chilling precision, their bodies clad in military camouflage, faces hidden behind masks. The glint of guns in their hands made Dunni’s blood run cold. The panic was overwhelming, a thick, palpable fear that hung like smoke. The men’s voices, calm yet commanding, cut through the cacophony. They ordered the women to stand and leave the hall. They claimed it was for their safety that they were being taken to a safer part of the city.
But Dunni’s gut twisted with doubt. Their tone was too calm, too rehearsed, like a predator lulling its prey. Covered in dust and trembling, she followed Lana as they were herded into a shiny, new 50-seater bus. The metallic scent of blood lingered in the air, mixed with the smell of dust and sweat. The rest of the women—those still able to walk—stumbled behind them, the fear etched deep into their faces.
Dunni’s heart raced as the bus doors slammed shut behind them, the sound final, like a trap closing. The distant screams from the hall echoed in her mind, growing faint as the bus pulled away. Her mind spun with a thousand questions. Was this a rescue, or were they walking straight into something far worse? She could feel Lana’s hand brushing against hers, a silent plea for reassurance, but Dunni had none to give. They were now locked in a fate neither could control, hurtling toward the unknown.
As soon as the bus rumbled to life, a tense silence fell over the passengers, broken only by the soft hum of the engine. Then, piercing through the stillness, one of the masked men barked an order, his voice sharp as a whip. “Submit your phones!” The demand echoed through the bus, leaving confusion and fear etched on the faces of the women. A murmur of disbelief rippled among them, their wide eyes darting in uncertainty.
One woman hesitated, her hand trembling over her phone. The man’s impatience snapped—without warning, a gunshot rang out, deafening and brutal, slicing through the air like a violent scream. The metallic scent of gunpowder mixed with the acrid stench of sweat and fear. The woman slumped forward, and suddenly, the cold reality crashed down on Dunni with the weight of a thousand stones. This wasn’t a rescue team. They were being kidnapped.
Seated at the very back, Dunni’s pulse pounded in her ears, her heartbeat deafening in the thickening tension. Her hands moved quickly, almost on instinct. Before she could second-guess herself, she sent the emergency code to Ola and Moses, her fingers flying across the screen. The code they had devised for life-or-death situations was simple, but she had never imagined she would need to use it. Yet, despite the terror freezing her bones, she was surprised at how clearly it came to her. A number to press on repeat.
Her fingers shook as she reached for her necklace, feeling its familiar coolness against her skin. It was still there. Relief washed over her, but only for a moment. Her bracelet—she felt for it next. Intact. She turned to Lana, sitting on her left, her eyes wide with fear. Without a word, Dunni slipped the bracelet from her wrist and fastened it onto Lana’s right wrist. Lana stared at her, puzzled, but Dunni’s voice was barely a whisper as she leaned in close.
“For whatever it is worth, don’t take it off until you are safely home.”
Before Lana could respond, the masked man loomed over them. His presence was suffocating, his gaze cold. Without hesitation, he ripped the phones from their hands, his rough touch burning like fire against Dunni’s skin.
As he moved on, Lana’s tears began to fall, slow at first, then unstoppable. Her chest tightened, her breath shaky as her mind spiralled.
“My son…” Her voice cracked, barely a whisper beneath the suffocating weight of despair that hung in the air. “He didn’t want me to come.”
Dunni reached out, gently clasping her trembling hands. No words were needed between them. Yesterday, their world had been filled with light—talking, laughing, full of life and possibilities. But now, the silence between them was heavy, thick with fear.
“You will see your son again and hold him in your arms,” she reassured her new friends, even though their grim reality suggested otherwise
Dunni grapples with Moses’ absence while distancing herself from Tade, who seeks reconciliation after his dishonesty. As they reconnect over shared experiences, Dunni contemplates moving forward while navigating her emotional turmoil and safety.
Days blurred into weeks. Then they turned into months. The absence of Moses lingered in Dunni’s life like the slow, painful removal of a bandage from a raw wound. Every word, every moment, was a reminder of him. Moses seemed to be everywhere—his name would pop up in casual updates from Ola. At first, Dunni had taken his calls, but soon she stopped, and Moses, catching on, gradually disappeared until there was nothing left of their connection.
She threw herself into work, continuing her volunteering with young artists, and added volunteering at a women’s shelter she had recently found. Anything to fill the void he had left behind. One would have expected her to make up with Tade, but still, she couldn’t bring herself to answer any of his calls or see him, no matter how many messages he left. Even when she saw Toni at the art club, Dunni ensured she was always occupied with another parent when he showed up. One would think Tade would get the message, but the more she avoided him, the more persistent he became, his calls multiplying as if he could wear her down by sheer insistence.
Dunni tried to rationalize his actions, to understand why he’d hidden his family’s wealth from her. But no explanation eased the sting of betrayal. She had always despised being blindsided, which had shaken her to the core this time. How could she trust Tade again after this?
She reluctantly agreed to dinner with a fellow volunteer from the women’s shelter tonight. She was exhausted, her mind clouded with too much to do, but she had run out of polite excuses to cancel. While waiting for Joy, she distracted herself by scrolling through her phone, aimlessly flipping through old pictures. Then she saw a photo of her, Moses, and Ola taken in their first year together. The three looked so young, confident, and certain they could conquer the world. Her heart clenched painfully at the sight of Moses’ face. What would her life have been like if things had been different?
She dropped her phone on the table, frustrated with herself. Why was she torturing herself like this? For every step she took to push Moses out of her mind, she seemed to take ten steps backwards, dragged back into the aching void he had left behind. She had lost her best friend.
Looking around the restaurant, she saw strangers laughing and smiling, their faces bright with joy. But how many of them, she wondered, were carrying their own silent burdens, masking their pain with laughter and busy schedules?
She sighed, lost in her thoughts, when she suddenly felt a presence beside her. She looked up, and Tade was standing in front of her.
“Can I sit?” he asked.
“I’m expecting someone,” Dunni replied, her tone clipped.
“No worries. I’ll leave as soon as she comes,” Tade said, ignoring the cold edge in her voice.
It was on her lips to ask how he knew her dinner companion was a woman, but she held back. The sooner he left, the better.
“Tade, I don’t want to do this here,” she said, her voice weary.
“I’ve tried so hard to see you, and you’ve made it impossible. I didn’t realize it could be harder to meet you than the governor of Lagos.” He chuckled at his own joke, but Dunni wasn’t amused.
“I can’t be bought,” she said, her tone flat.
“I know,” Tade replied, his voice soft, filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it right.”
“You can’t just walk back into my life, apologize, and expect everything to be fine,” she snapped. “It’s not fine. I almost lost myself in this relationship, only to find out you lied to me.”
“Tade, it’s over. I can’t go back to what I thought we had.”
Tade nodded, his expression one of deep regret. “I understand. I should have told you the moment you said yes. I wanted to, but things kept happening, and then time passed, and I was scared. I could tell you afterwards if we married quickly, but that was wrong. I should never have taken that choice from you—it was yours to make.”
He paused, looking at her with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. “All my life, I’ve been judged by my family’s wealth, and I wanted to be known for what I’ve achieved, not for what my mother’s money could buy. I loved that you wanted me for me, not for my status. When I realized you didn’t know who I was, I wanted it to stay that way. Every day, I fell deeper in love with you.”
His sincerity and the raw emotion in his eyes chipped away at the walls Dunni had built around her heart. But she wasn’t ready to let him in. Not yet.
“I don’t know if I can return to what we had,” she whispered.
“Please, just think about it,” Tade pleaded gently. “I’m willing to wait.”
Dunni glanced at her watch, wondering out loud what was keeping Joy.
Tade hesitated, then with a sheepish grin, he confessed, “About that… I kind of arm-twisted Joy into setting this up. She’s my cousin’s best friend.”
Dunni couldn’t help but laugh at his boyish grin. “So, if Mohammed won’t go to the mountain, the mountain comes to Mohammed?”
“Exactly,” Tade said, his grin widening. “So, can I join you for dinner?”
“Do you need to ask, considering you’ve already invited yourself?” Dunni teased, a small smile playing on her lips.
Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Tade opened up about his family, his upbringing, and how he’d built his hospital after returning from the U.S. He shared stories about his first marriage, the grief of losing his wife, and how he had struggled with widowhood. Despite his wealth and the seemingly perfect life he portrayed, Dunni realized that Tade had faced his own challenges, and things weren’t as glamorous as they appeared from the outside.
They fell into a routine, meeting for dinner once a week and catching up on life. While Tade was still trying to win her back, Dunni had moved on emotionally. She wasn’t interested in rekindling their romance—friendship was all she had to offer now.
During one of their dinners, Dunni ran into Dr. Larry B., the doctor who had delivered her as a baby.
“Good evening, sir,” Dunni said, curtsying like any well-mannered Yoruba girl.
“Ah, Adedunni Adesida! How are you? And how’s your mother? And your siblings?” Dr. Larry B. asked warmly.
“They’re all fine, sir. I thought you were in America?”
“I am, but I’m here for my annual free medical service initiative. How nice to see you!”
Dunni realized she hadn’t introduced Tade as he was about to leave. “Oh, Dr. Larry, meet my friend, Tade Braithwaite.”
Dr. Larry’s interest was immediately piqued. “Braithwaite, from Lagos?”
“Yes,” Tade replied, sensing the curiosity in the doctor’s tone. “My late father was Olanrewaju Braithwaite, and my mother is Molade Thomas. Do you know them?”
Dr. Larry’s face paled as if he’d just seen a ghost.
“Are you alright, sir?” Dunni asked, concerned.
“I… I have to go,” Dr. Larry stammered, his voice shaking. “My guests are waiting.”
And with that, he hurried off, leaving them both in stunned silence.
“I thought that was weird,” Dunni commented, her brow furrowing. “Do you think he knows your parents?”
Tade shrugged, his eyes scanning the bustling restaurant around them. “A lot of people know my family. I hope he isn’t one of those with an axe to grind. The business world can be ruthless, not for the faint-hearted. I didn’t know much about my father, but my mother and grandfather. They were cut from the same cloth—strictly business, no room for sentiments.”
Dunni leaned back in her chair, the candlelight flickering between them. “I’m in the business world too, remember? And it’s not as bleak as you’re making it. Sure, it’s tough, but there is always a way.”
Tade raised an eyebrow. “It depends on what that way is. Try bidding for and executing government contracts. Now, that’s a whole different beast—lucrative, yes, but it’s not just about your expertise. It’s all about connections. Friends and family turn on each other all the time. Betrayal is a currency. Sometimes, people don’t just lose money—they lose their lives. The pressure breaks them, heart attacks, strokes. It’s not uncommon.”
“Our experience at Architex Designs seems to be different.”
“You architects must have it easy. From what you’ve told me, your contracts seem to come purely from recommendations. You don’t have to wade through the murky waters.”
Dunni smirked. “Moses got our first government contract through a recommendation, yes. From a job we did for a bank. Ola and Moses used to handle the contract chasing, but now it’s all on Ola. I keep offering to help, but he always refuses.”
Tade shook his head, his tone serious. “Let him handle that side of things. You might be shocked at what really goes on behind closed doors.”
“If that was supposed to scare me, it hasn’t,” Dunni said, eyes gleaming with challenge. “If anything, you’ve just lit a fire under me. I’m going to ask Ola again.”
Tade groaned, rubbing his temples. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I can see the wheels turning in your head already. I’ve just set you on your next contract mission, haven’t I?”
Dunni bit her lip to keep a straight face, but her mischievous grin broke through.
“I’m not buying that innocent look, Dunni. I know you too well now.”
She laughed, her shoulders shaking. “You’re catching on fast. But seriously, I’ll be in Abuja next week for a conference. Maybe I’ll try my hand at some lobbying while I’m there.”
Tade’s expression shifted, concern clouding his features. “Drop the details of your conference location for security reasons. When do you leave? I’ll get a bracelet sent over, nothing flashy, but something to track your location without drawing attention.”
Dunni tilted her head. “Tade, I’m going to Abuja, not a war zone. Yeah, there’ve been some bomb blasts, but the government has it under control.”
Tade’s eyes narrowed. “What news do you listen to, baby girl? If your government has it as ‘under control’ as you say, we must live in different countries. Wear the bracelet. It’ll help me sleep better at night, knowing I can track your coordinates if anything happens. Phones can be taken or smashed, but no one notices cheap jewellery.”
Her mind flashed back to a memory—Moses had once given her a necklace with a small heart pendant embedded with a chip for emergencies. He was always cautious, especially after the abduction of foreign workers from a construction site in Northern Cameroon a couple of years back. He’d insisted she wear it whenever she travelled, citing incidents of kidnappings by MEND militants in the southern part of the country.
“I actually have something similar,” Dunni said, tapping her chin. “Moses gave me a necklace with a tracker. He was paranoid back then, too, after that kidnapping of the oil workers. It hasn’t left my drawer in years, but I think I’ll take it on this trip.”
Tade nodded approvingly. “Good. Take the necklace, and I’ll send the bracelet as a backup. Wear both.”
Dunni chuckled and raised her hand in a mock salute. “Yes, sir. Anything else, Commander?”
Tade smiled, but his eyes held a seriousness that lingered as they finished their dinner.
21stcenturybelle 