Without Melanin

The devil and his entourage

Kastina
Dije’s pov
3:04am

“You mean Senator Najib Muhammad” the voice form the other end of the call asked in bewilderment.

“Yes him, you know him?’’ Dije asked her friend.

“of course I know him, do you know how popular he is here in Abuja, he is not only rich, he is handsome and also a prince Dije, how could you let him slip between your fingers, wallahi an chu ceki” her friend Faiza asked from the other end of the call, causing the already blazing burning Dije felt at the pits of her soul to flare up even more.

“It’s that ashawo I call a sister, I woefully underestimated that chit” Dije said full of spite.

“Ah Dije, I am extremely disappointed in you, how can a girl as beautiful and graceful as you are allow such a catch to pass you by like that ehen, you have to do something about this fa” Faiza continued adding petrol to the fire.

“What can I do Faiza, they are already married” Dije said dejectedly.

“Ke aren’t you smart, they are married doesn’t mean anything, marriages end every day, just get yourself to Abuja and leave the rest to me”

“Haba? That’s why I like you Faiza, you are my rock” Dije said smiling.

“Trust me now but Dije do you think your parents will allow you to come to Abuja?” faiza asked skeptically.

“why not, I have my grandmother by my side, I will be in Abuja before the end of the week’ Dije said smirking.

“Allah ya kawo ki lafiya Hajiya” Faiza said laughing.

"Amin Amin” Dije answered, they continued their discussion of what seems like a promising future into the odd hours of the night.

Sunday
7:15pm

Salimat stared at her dress entranced, Najib’s assistant had seriously out done herself she was like her fairy god mother, she took one last spin carefully trying to avoid toppling over in her heels, she smiled at Aisha who was still glaring at her because of all the paint she had to help scrub off her; Salima had begun to work in her studio which was fast becoming the bane of Aisha’s existence.

Salimat turned collecting her clutch from Aisha. “Wish me good luck” she said beaming at her.

“Good luck” Aisha responded smiling to, Salimat let out a nervous sigh before heading out to meet her husband at the foyer.

Najib’s pov

Najib tapped his feet impatiently glancing at the stair cases for the umpteenth time, he was about to go up and drag her out himself but just then she descended the stair.

He knew it was cliché, and cheesy but he couldn’t help himself, seriously the cheesy romantic stir he got at the pit of his stomach caused him to feel sick, he took her hand like the gentle man that he was and help her descend the remain flight of stairs.

“You look breath taking” he complimented, causing her to blush profusely.

“you look handsome too” she complimented him in return, causing his cold dead heart to stir, he placed his free hand above his chest in an attempt to hush the weird feeling, God she was poison to his soul, body and mind, Najib wore a black kaftan and baban riga, which only made him look even more irritable.

“Bisimillah” he said escorting her out the house, he wasn’t the one driving today, so they both sat at the back of his black Rolls Royce, the drive to the venue was filled with a peaceful silence, and Najib couldn’t stop stealing glances at his wife which only made Salimat blush even more.