RESOLVE

Chapter Two.

~Sarima's POV~

The disturbing sound of the generator of some of the neighbours could be heard, signalling that it was well past dusk. Somi was back already, in a frazzled state, with news from the police that it was until after twenty-four hours that Homa would be declared missing.

She was repeating it solemnly to my grandmother on a phone call while I was peeling the yam we would have for dinner in the kitchen. My phone started ringing, but the call stopped before I could wash my hands in the sink.

The call was from an unknown number, I wanted it to ring again cause I didn't have any airtime on my phone to call back, but it didn't, so I went back to my work and just then it rang again.

I huffed and tried to wash and clean my hands quickly before the call stopped, and I was too late again.

Mtchew

This person should try calling some other time.

A few minutes later, I served the boiled yam and oil in a non-ceramic bowl on a brown wooden table in the middle of the room, with months-old stains of dried candle wax.

"You're busy bringing food. What if she was kidnapped, raped, or worse, used by organ harvesters?"

And just like that, every atom of hunger from my system was wiped out by Somi's words.

I sat down on the bed, quietly weighing her words.

"We should just wait as the police instructed, then maybe..." I trailed off, trying even to convince myself with my words.

When I went silent after that, she assisted me in completing my sentence. "... Maybe find her corpse in a gutter of one of the streets in Lagos?"

"Ahn ahn...God forbid, that's where your mind has taken you to now? mtchew, you can't even be positive."

She remained quiet, staring soberly at the lights from the rechargeable lantern in the room, which set her profile in a good view.

Sadly what she said was reality. My mind began conjuring Images of Homa's headless corpse dumped in a bush or roadside, and it felt like a lump the size of a cold yam was constricted in my lungs, preventing me from breathing well.

I began to say another prayer in my mind for the second time that day.

There was a light knock on the door. And we both turned to look at each other.

Both our breaths held.

The knock came up more legibly this time, and I stood up to check who was at the door.

Her plumpy body almost covered all the bad air that the generators in the compound emitted from entering the house, and her finely carved small lips were in a tight line, its usual pattern.

She was on a baggy yellow top that looked Normal for her size and black shin-length jeans, otherwise known as three-quarters, that had been ripped on one of the knees.

Her thin short dreadlocks tinted gold at the tips dangled on her round face.

It was my coursemate and friend Onome.

I couldn't even hide the tinge of disappointment in my chest from surfacing on my countenance.

"Why your face dey like beans wey Dem nor chop well?" Her voice, almost too deep for a woman, rang in the room as she got in.

Somi, looking expectantly at the door, looked away on hearing Onome's signature pidgin English, with a disappointed frown caressing her face.

"Babe, how far?", She greeted Somi, who nodded with a quiet