Second Chance

A Second Chance

My day was off to a bad start.

It all began when I woke up as I usually do by 4am, drenching in buckets of sweat and wondering why I couldn’t feel the blasted ceiling fan on me nor hear the swooshing of the blades as it spun around. I groggily stood up, carefully though, so as not to wake my two other siblings who I share the bed with. I traced my fingers on the wall to locate the light switch at the other end of the room and to my utter surprise, the click of the switch did not turn on any light, then, it sank in that ECG** (Electricity Company of Ghana) had done it again. Being so frustrated and irritated, I accidentally knocked my little toe on one of the furniture in the room. Ouch!!!

It hurt like hell but I had to muffle the yelp that nearly escaped my mouth. Again I didn’t want to wake my little siblings up. I miraculously found my phone nestled under my pillow and I relied on its torch to get started for the morning. I luckily had some clothes ironed from a day before so I showered and donned on a pair of high-waisted coffee-brown ladies trousers and a cream buttoned-up long sleeve shirt. I used the quick shine on my second-hand black mirror shoes I purchased at Kantamanto - Accra at a good bargain price, then grabbed my work bag and left the house by 6am. It took me 7mins to get to the Lashibi bus-stop and waited for any passing Accra-Makola Trotro (local means of transport by van).

I was doing my internship at the Finance drive street of Accra, precisely the Ministry of Finance. I finished with a second class-upper in Business administration at KNUST two years before and after the compulsory 1 year National service as a TA in my department I struggled with getting employment relevant to the degree I had obtained. It was purely by an uncle’s connection to someone at the Ministry that I got a temporary paid internship at the Ministry.

I didn’t come from a particularly rich family, neither were we poor. I would consider my family to be somewhere in the low-middle class. We were not living hand-to-mouth but neither could we afford to own a three bed-room apartment in Accra. My family was renting a two bedroom self-contained apartment in Lashibi. My parents shared one bedroom while myself and two sisters, Fafa and Adzo shared the other bedroom. Our youngest, Kafui slept on a mat in the living room for the night. I am 24. A fully-grown woman by every right but here I was sharing the same space with my 12 and 14 year old sisters. I despised the arrangement. If only I could have my own space, make my own money and live the kind of life I dreamed of. I knew girls of my age who were flying in and out of Dubai, Zanzibar and Paris every weekend like it was their second home and here was I coming to heckle with others for a trotro.

I always dreaded being late to get to the bus stop because that would likely mean getting into a fistfight with other people hoping to board trotro. One orange rickety looking 207 van stopped with the driver’s mate chanting, “Accra-Makola!, Accra-Makola!! I quickly made my way to the front and secured a seat amidst others struggling to get it. It was about 6.40am by the time the vehicle took off, not even filled to capacity and all of other passengers had to endure having the vehicle stop at the various bustops along Nungua, Teshie and La before the 207 bus was loaded to capacity. This took close to an hour amidst the usual morning traffic.

I was in deep thought when I heard, “Yessss, front, fresh girl ” My attention was quickly snapped back to my current reality. I digged into my purse and took out a 10 cedis note, gave it to the mate and received a change of 2 cedis. I was comfortable on this bus ride until an obese older man came to occupy the seat next to mine and virtually sat on half my seat in addition to him pushing me almost out of mine. I was reminded how I hated going through this every now and then. It was so unfair and if my morning wasn’t ruined by the lights out already this would surely ruin it. I was not one to sit quietly and suffer so I started to complain much to the dislike of my assailant who sat staring in my face lazily like he didn’t care or just regarded me like some disrespectful youth.

I sucked my teeth in anger when my complains fell on deaf ears and was for once relieved when I finally got off the bus at the stop closest to the financial drive area. I straightened out my attire and took quick steps to the main entrance. The morning sun was already up and I could perceive my armpits getting sweaty. I couldn’t wait to enter the Ministry main building which had fully air-conditioned offices.

On arrival, I signed my name at the front desk and took the elevator to the 3rd floor before getting to the director’s office. I worked with the director’s secretary or more like run errands for her. I hated it and I must add with a passion. I didn’t like her vibe. Ms. Adofo, that was her name. She was always in some hideous make-up and strutted around like someone important. She probably felt big because she was the side-chick to the Director or so the rumors say. It was clear as day that she was always sucking up to the big bosses while being quite mean to her subordinates, especially when she was moody. I was always the first to get to our shared office anyway. So I quickly settled and arranged the documents in the order she had taught me the previous week and then filed others as I was instructed a day before.

At lunch time I sought permission from Ms. Adofo who did not spare me a glance and then went to get some Waakye.

“Aseye”, “Aseye”, I heard my name behind me, in the coffee room. I turned and met the eyes of Paa Kwesi Anderson, a colleague at the IT department. He was one of the first friends I made when I started working here and because he lives at Spintex, in his own rented space, I often get a lift from him in the evening when we close from work. Paa Kwesi was a true gentleman, well-brought up and a great company to keep. He was a permanent employee and had proposed once before to use his connections to help me secure a permanent employment after my internship year. He was the last born of his family, the type that was born with a “golden spoon” in his mouth and definitely set for life. Always looking his best and being kind to all. He sat across me with his rice meal and we shared typical office gossip and laughed over certain occurences. Other colleagues joined us and soon we were a noisy bunch. We had to stifle our snickers and laughter so as not to anger the older grumpy office workers using the coffee room.

My internship year continued smoothly for the next 3 months and I was earning enough to save up for my masters and spend on my needs without taking money from my parents. My mum operated a medium-sized coldstore in our area and my dad, a disappointed doctor was a high school teacher and a good one at that. Fafa was in class 6 and was the girls’s prefect of the upper primary school while Adzo had started secondary school education at Achimota School. Kafui was in class 4 and was also topping his class.

Our parents were very proud of us and I had the task as the first child to set an example for them, something that weighed quite heavily on my mind until I was done with University. I still remember being fiercing warned to desist from any behavior that would put the Fianku family name in the mud. I refrained from wild parties and even casual dating, till my final year despite attracting numerous male attention through out my studies. I was afraid to delve into the typical hook-up dating culture that was common around me. I must admit, I am an above average-looking, typical Ewe girl with even fair skin, often benefiting from the deep-rooted colorism that is rife in Ghanaian society. My first boyfriend was a medical student in his 6th year. He was a typical fine boy from a family of doctors and was super rich. He gave me my first experience of a relationship and spoiled me to bits, a committed lover until he graduated from med school and got involved with someone. That was my first heartbreak. I kept myself away from any other relationship since then.

Presently, Paa Kwesi and I are driving home from work in his Chevrolet aveo when his engine suddenly gives out. It is a harrowing experience stuck in Accra traffic with plenty car blasting at us. Many drivers being impatient drive past us while Kwesi tries to reach out to his “fitter”. Unfortunately he is not able to reach him and so he calls his big brother whom I have heard so much about, to come to our aid. Yoofi Anderson, a 29 year old, brilliant lawyer who was recently in the news for advocating for a constitutional review and some amendment of laws regarding criminal law and jail terms. His major advocacy had been introducing community service for minor offenses as a way of decongesting prisons in the country.

Within 10 minutes, Yoofi shows up in his 4-wheel latest model of Benz I am unfamiliar with. I am immediately star struck. I struggle to keep my eyes from meeting his as he gets out of his car which he parks at the shoulder of the road. Paa Kwesi gets out to meet his brother, visibly relieved and I smile at the two sharing a bear hug before Yoofi goes on to put his arm around Paa Kwesi neck as if choking him. I laugh out loud at their goofiness and this immediately draws their attention to me. I get out of the car and join them. Paa Kwesi is quick to do the introduction amidst laughter.

“Aseye meet my bastard brother- Yoofi” Yoofi shoots a glare at Paa Kwesi and gives him a mock blow at his side.

“Yoofi, meet my dear friend, Aseye Fianku”

We shake hands and I find that my heart is beating quite fast and I’m washed with a feeling of attraction as well as nervousness under his sharp gaze.

After some teasing between the two, Yoofi’s mechanic arrives with a towing car to move Paa Kwesi’s car and Yoofi offers to drive us home. While PK takes the passenger seat, I take the backseat and listen in on their conversation. They discuss so many things amongst themselves and I can’t help but admire their friendship. It is easy to see that PK admires and respects his senior brother a lot while Yoofi is protective of his brother. I am dropped off first with apologies from PK for his car breaking down though it was through no fault of his. Yoofi winks at me while I go through the gate and my heart skips a beat. I quickly ascend to my bedroom and lie flat on the bed feeling my heart do that silly skipping. Yesss, Yoofi is handsome and smart and has a gorgeous smile but that is no reason for you to act this way, I berate myself.

That evening, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I googled his name, read on and looked him up on all the socials. I was basically being a stalker. On one of his instagram post, I saw a picture of him on a ski boat sunbathing. Damnn! No one had the right to look that good. I mistakenly liked another picture of his and quickly unliked it but I was certain that activity may not go unnoticed by him as it was clear out of all his socials he was most active on IG. I quickly followed him to take the awkwardness out of it. When I put my phone down to finally change from my work clothes, I heard a beep from my phone and quickly picked it. He had followed me back. I was besides myself with joy and would have initiated a conversation but i was afraid i was being too forward. I hastily changed from my clothes, enjoying the fresh air on my bare skin before getting under the shower. As i bathe, I daydreamed about meeting him again and hummed sweetly to myself. I picked up my phone again after bathing to see that he had sent me messages on IG.

Y: “Paa Kwesi never mentioned he had such a pretty girl as you as a friend”

“My brother is a fool”

“Please choose wisely”

This was with laughing emojis. I laughed at the light-hearted nature of the text and responded,

A: “He’s been so nice to me but I certainly know he’s not interested in me, I know the girl he likes”

Y: “Ooooh, I need that scoop! You’ve got to tell me. That guy carries himself like a monk. I can’t wait to know so I can tease him. Please please please tell me, pretty please”

A: “You would have to ask him, lol”

Y: “oh don’t be like that, I will never get that out of him”

A:” Well, I guess it means you’ll never know”

Y: “you are a meanie”

A: “You wont guilt-trip me..hehehe”

Y: “ hahaha, whatever, you’re still a meanie, a beautiful meanie”

I laughed and my heart was dancing to the little compliments thrown in there

Y: “Goodnight Aseye, see you some other time”

A: ”Goodnight Yoofi, thanks for earlier today’

Y: “oh it’s nothing”

I stared at our last text. Wishing there would be more. I was quite disappointed he didn’t ask me out or ask to know me a little more. I had to shake those thoughts from my head and force myself to sleep.

At night, he was in my dreams also.

The next morning, I was almost late as I didn’t wake up early enough to prepare. I however still took a little more time than usual to dress up. I put on a silk shirt and a bi-stretch beige pencil skirt that accentuated my curves and paired it with wedge shoes giving my appearance a much needed update. Then i put on light make-up and placed an order for bolt. Hell no, I wasn’t going to board a trotro to work today. Not while I’m dressed to the nines. Besides it was past 6 and I was now leaving the house. I was definitely not going to get a Trotro coming in with empty seats at my stop. They were likely to be full from other stops before they get to my stop. I feel like my parents could have supported me with a car if they didn’t have to cater for Fafa, Adzo and Kafui too. I sometimes wonder why the age differences between me and the next child to be born Fafa was that long but not that i cared so much to know.

At work that day, I was being ogled at much to my dislike but i had to brace myself because I called for it. Even, Ms. Adofo, sized me up today and asked about where i bought my silk shirt. Luckily it was at a reputable boutique so I confidently told her and recommended others to her which surprisingly led to a nice conversation about style and fashion. Ms. Adofo was usually not this nice. Later that afternoon, we had a surprise visit from the Vice President and his entourage and Ms. Adofo and I were caught in the middle of receiving them, showing them around while reorganizing the Director and Minister’s schedule.

In the course of the day, I was approached by a man in the Vice president’s entourage. I had noticed him looking at me several times surreptitiously. He looked like he would be in his early 40s at least and he appeared very wealthy. He started to make small conversation and eventually was being flirtatious. I was weirdly flattered but also felt extra need to be cautious as I was basically on duty. We exchanged contact at a point and he promised to reach out to me later. I didn’t know what to think of it.

At the close of the day while sitting in PK’s car which had been fixed the previous day, I secretly checked Yoofi’s profile on IG. His account had been active earlier today but he hadn’t reached out. I was secretly hoping he would. I sighed which made PK shoot me a look.

“You sound like you’re expecting something that is yet to drop. Is it some allowance? You know you can always ask me if you need anything right? “ I smiled and shook my head.

“It’s nothing”

We continued driving in silence and when I got out of the car I had to feign some excitement so PK would not be worried. I’m sure he had picked up on my mood and realized I was sulking about something. If only he knew, it has got to do with his brother. I was lovesick.

The older man I met today called me after I had had supper with the family. My sisters were doing the dishes so I comfortably received the call in our shared bedroom .His name was Henry and immediately I picked the call his honeyed voice picked up a seductive tone as he started telling me how much he liked me and how beautiful I was. I was initially uncomfortable but then I found myself being flattered by his attention.

Over weeks, his calls became rampant, he believed himself in love with me and started seeking to meet up with me. I gave him several excuses. Then he started sending me money, lots of money amongst other gifts which my mum began to notice. I changed my closet in a matter of weeks and he bought a car for me by the second month. A car I used when I was out of the house because i couldn’t yet let my parents catch on to all that was happening with me. My mother became suspicious at a point and so I lied that I had gotten some upgrade with my salary which made her relax a bit. I wasn’t breaking any rule, was I?

Eventually, after buttering me up with all these gifts and money, I gave in to have a date with him. He took me to a high-end restaurant and clearly couldn’t stop gushing over me. After our first date, it became some form of relationship. He introduced me to a world I hadn’t known before, fancy dinners, celebrity parties, staycations in local resorts and all expense-paid trips to cities in Europe. Sometimes he came along with me and I lied that it was a work trip so no one would suspect.

In all of this, I was occasionally following up on Yoofi’s life. Didn’t ever ask PK directly about him because I was afraid he would catch on. Henry was an excellent lover and I going to let myself fall for him that was what I tried convincing myself with.

What I had with Henry continued for a while. He even moved me to his private apartment at one of the rich neighborhoods in Accra. We were doing “well” till I later found out that his wife who had been abroad all this while had returned to the country. It became clear I was just a sidechick not that I hadn’t thought about the possibility before but at this point i had developed feelings for Henry so much that I wasn’t going to let him go. He started trying to limit his time with me. I wasn’t going to have it.

I started scheming and plotting ways and means for his wife to find out about “me” in his life. The last straw would be reaching out to her to reveal my identity and our relationship. I didn’t exactly have a plan for what would happen next.

For an entire week, Henry refrained from calling me or initiating any text while I constantly blasted his phone with voice notes, calls and messages. He ignored most of it while giving brief responses to a few. This made me gloomy and irritated all week so much so that Ms. Adofo noticed and was starting to show concern for me. I spent my coffee breaks sulking over it alone, avoiding PK because I couldn’t possibly share what was going on with me. I was driving home alone to Henry’s private apartment every evening hoping he would show and he did finally show up.

It was a Friday night. I had closed from work and just arrived home when I saw his car parked at the porch. I parked behind him and went inside to meet him seated comfortably in the living room space helping himself to some wine he must have brought alone. Instead of happiness, i felt a great deal of indignation. I disregarded his presence and walked past him intending to go into the bedroom and completely ignore him but he wasn’t going to allow it. He pulled me to him, apologizing vehemently and making promises I knew he could never keep. Not when I am just a plaything of sort to him. Not when I couldn’t even reveal to anyone that he was my boyfriend of a sort and has been my sponsor of a sort. Not when i was ashamed to even inform my parents about him. Not when I wasn’t sure of my own feelings. What exactly did i feel for Henry?

That evening he took me to Atomic City, a favorite night hang-out for the crème de la crème. I was in a royal blue, mid-thigh length, backless, halter-neck cocktail dress with Louboutin red-bottom heels while he wore something Christian Dior made. I was all smiles while I hanged on his arm like a jewel piece. I knew my place and wholly accepted it. He made small conversation with other big men who had ladies like myself by their side and at a point they all started to play a game of poker. All the ladies including myself stood behind our partners silently cheering them on and holding their drinks In the course of the game, I felt the air in my chest knocked out by the sight of someone familiar.

It was Yoofi Anderson approaching the poker table with a shot glass of whiskey and a dark petite girl clinging to his right arm. I felt a chill run over me and when our eyes met. I felt time literally freeze. So many emotions were running through me. Shock to find him here, shame at being seen with Henry, embarrassment thinking of what he must think of me from tonight onwards and a pang of jealousy because he looked so in love with his partner. He however looked briefly at me and looked away. He whispered something to the lady who then left his side while he walked to the table observing them finish a round. I kept stealing glances at him completely enthralled by him. I didn’t know what to think of his lack of recognition of who I was. Had i changed a lot? Was it better that he didn’t recognize me??

He went on to put some fresh wads of cash on the table and took some chips. I watched him sit behind the table while the other players welcomed him as if they were all familiar with one another. I was quite surprised. From what i had learnt from PK, Yoofi does not drink alcohol nor is he into the whole night life of the rich folks so I could not fathom all i was seeing tonight. It was all out of character.

After seeing them play for a while, I felt pressed and left for the washroom. I also felt like i was losing myself. It had been a while i went home to my parents and siblings though I had been sending them some money. I had not been keeping up with my usual friends nor work colleagues, not even PK. I had gained money, travel experience and all the fine things I dreamt of but I wasn’t truly happy. The realization made me sad. After peeing, I cleaned up and made my way to the exit only to clash into Yoofi at the exit or had he been waiting for me? I couldn’t articulate a word

Y: “Aseye…..you ..you’re looking lovely”

Ooh so he did recognize me. I said under my breath.

A: “ Thank you, Yoofi…. I..I should be going”

Y: “wait…I..”

A: “what?”

Y: “It’s nothing, see you later”

I wish he said whatever was on his mind. He seemed like he wanted to tell or ask me something but stopped himself. What at all could he want to say to me?

I returned to the table to find Henry quite drunk; not again, I mused. I tried convincing his drunk self to allow us go home and when he finally accepted after minutes i called his driver to come pick us home. I didn’t see Yoofi again after the washroom ‘meeting’ but I sure as hell kept thinking about him through out the ride home. The following week, I kept avoiding PK even more. I was wondering if Yoofi had already spoken to him about me.

One Thursday afternoon, PK came to see me at Ms. Adofo’s office, seemingly unbothered about not seeing me as often as he used to. This made me relax around him while he caught me up with the latest things happening with him. It felt like old times. I didn’t want it to end but I had some work waiting and after some good chatter PK left me to finish work. At the close of day, while driving to the apartment, I thought about talking to PK about the permanent employee status he was willing to help me get. I thought about Yoofi and the night we saw each other at Atomic. I thought about parting ways with Henry. I couldn’t see myself grow into the woman I always sought to be with him. I couldn’t picture a future with him. I wanted to wake up from this dream even if it meant losing all the nice things he gave me.

After a cold shower and a warm meal, I phoned Henry. He picked on the first ring and told me how he was just about calling me because he had a business deal coming on this weekend at Johannesburg and he would love to spend his time with me there. I thought about it for a minute while he waited for my response.

It wouldn’t hurt to travel with him for the last time before I finally end things with him, I reasoned.

And so, we took a flight to South Africa on Saturday morning and arrived by afternoon. We checked into the Four Seasons Hotels- The Westcliff, where Henry had already made reservations for a suite and settled in nicely.

That same night, after dinner, he left me alone in the hotel room to meet up with some businessmen at the conference hall. In his absence, I called in a masseuse for a full-body massage which I thoroughly enjoyed and then I soaked in a scented bath with white and red petals surrounded by the soft glow of candle-lights . By the time I was out, I smelled divine and was in a far better mood than I had been recently. I also became acutely aware that leaving Henry meant leaving all these behind.

I don’t recall when I fell asleep but I did feel the bed dip a little when Henry joined me in the course of the night, smelling of cigar and booze.

Within 15 minutes, I was jerked out of sleep by a large thud right outside our door. Henry immediately rose from the bed, grabbed one of his suitcases and pulled out a revolver. I was scared to the bone and speechless. I didn’t know Henry owned a gun, much less one he carried around. How come it went through airport security two times and it wasn’t found. I was flabbergasted. Too many things were running through my mind. He barked orders at me to remain where I was while he stealthily made his way to the door, pointing the revolver at it. His phone rang noisily at that instance and he dashed to the bedside for it and returned to the door with the revolver in hand. I couldn’t decipher what the phone call was about but I heard him growl in anger and cuss at the person. Then I heard a gunshot outside and saw through our large window panes, about 6 massive police trucks with flashing red and blue lights and heard blaring sounds of loud sirens. It dawned on me then that, this is a police operation and Henry was the target.

What the hell was I doing here?!!!

I rolled off the bed, casting the duvet aside and attempted to change out of my flimsy lilac nightie into some sweatpants and T-shirt. My actions distracted Henry who seemed pissed and started yelling at me to stay still in bed which I was so not going to oblige. His displaced anger made him prance towards me with a promise of a hefty slap if I was going to disobey him. Suddenly, the door broke at its hinges and the room became filled with a dozen uniformed men. Henry pulled me by the hair and placed me before him like a shield, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The same man who had promised me his heart and everything he could offer was now offering me on a platter for bullets to run through me before any can hit him. The one who in throes of passion had said he will die for me was here going to end my life with his pathetic one. I was not going to go down with him, I resolved in my heart, so I swiftly turned, which caught him off guard and bit him hard on his hand. I followed this with kneeing him in the balls and run behind the uniformed armed men. They acted quickly by shooting him in the shoulder and on one leg causing Henry to drop the gun and drop to the floor. Immediately, he was handcuffed and they dragged him off the floor and into one of the vehicles down there. The other officers confiscated every luggage and our phones. I was given a large towel to drape around me as I was still lightly dressed and very shakened.

Torrents of tears started falling. I was so regretful of every decision I had taken up to this point and felt so lost and helpless. I was on a foreign land, caught with a criminal and without a phone, no possible way of contacting my family. I thought about the kind of pain I would be bringing to my parents once this was aired on the news. I thought about how I had failed as the first child and senior most daughter. All because I fell for the money and charms of man who I hadn’t known was a criminal. With my eyes blinded by the tears, I didn’t realize anyone approaching me till I felt the cold metal of the handcuff put around my wrists also. I was innocent! I didn’t know what shit Henry was into. I began to defend myself. No! No!!! I shook my head vigorously but most of them regarded me with apathy while one of the told me the famous line.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney”

And with this, they whisked me away into one of the police vans. I was surely doomed.

On arrival at the station, I was escorted into a cell where I was detained for hours with no food or water. It was afternoon of the next day that another officer came to fetch me into an interrogation room. I had cried all night that I lost my voice and was by now so broken that I was determined to cooperate with them for whatever they asked of me.

At the interrogation room, I met a lanky stern looking middle-aged man with closely cropped salt and pepper hair. He introduced himself as a Kenyan detective who had been working with Interpol on a Drug-trafficking-Money laundering case for years now. He said that Henry had had a target on him for a while now and had been the missing link between a drug cartel in Colombia and then East and West Africa. Henry was also the ringleader of several other fraudulent schemes while masquerading as a noble government official. This had granted him protection for so long. They wanted me to divulge every information I had, in exchange of a reduced sentence if I was found guilty as an accomplice. I had been in the dark about all this as well and i told him but the detective was bent on incriminating me. The tears I was holding back began to fall again. I cried so much that he passed me a box of tissue and excused himself.

Later in the evening I went through another round of questioning and just when I thought I was going to be returned to my cell I was told another key person on the investigation team wanted to meet me for another round of questioning. I frowned deeply. i had said all I knew already. I was in great despair and I was thinking about ending my life if I could just get the right thing to do it with. While I sat in the dark interrogation room with the only source of light, a flickering orange bulb in a corner, I felt my visitor, the investigator pull me up from my seat and give me a warm hug. I was momentarily confused and when we separated I was dumbfounded to see Yoofi Anderson.

I must have fainted because when I woke up I was in a hospital ward. I had been dehydrated from not drinking water and crying so hard and the shock of seeing Yoofi was the last straw. I hated that Yoofi was seeing me in this state, broken, dirty and miserable. What is this thing about him being on the investigation team and what did it mean??

I was blank in my mind and was so stressed that, I slipped in and out of consciousness continuously. When I had a full recovery i learnt it had been 3 days since my arrest. Yoofi had called on some favors to extricate me. He had supposedly made an argument that I was an innocent party found at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was to be flown back to Ghana to meet my parents who had been informed of my arrest in South Africa. On the day of my flight, Yoofi came to see me at the hospital. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I didn’t deserve a man of his caliber. I was going to be an indictment on his hard-worn reputation. I don’t know if he ever had the minutest hint that i liked him but I was going to kill that feeling. I swore to myself. I told him to leave me alone and asked why he was doing all this for me. He told me, there was a lot to catch me up to which he was going to do on the flight. he helped me get ready though i was very lethargic and being slow.

While on board the flight, he mentioned that he had been assisting with private investigations in the country for a while now, after all he was a criminal lawyer. Henry had had his phone lines bugged several times but he had a way of ditching his phones and numbers so frequently that they hardly were able to trace anything to him. However, a reliable informant had revealed that he was kingpin of several criminal organizations.

Several moles had been planted all around him including his driver and because it was hard to trace his phone activities, my phone was bugged recently using Paa Kwesi’s IT skills. This was after they had realized my involvement with him at Atomic city. I couldn’t recall PK touching my phone but he apparently hacked it the day he visited Ms. Adofo’s office for a chitchat. I was astonished by these revelations. It was a better plan to hack my phone because he always contacted me with one number he never changed and with that they could have an idea where he would be and what he would be doing.

The night he saw me at Atomic City, he, Yoofi was stunned to see me. He initially thought it was a pleasant coincidence, for he was pleased to see me until he realized I was Henry’s plus one. He then feigned knowing me since after all, he was undercover. He was to keep an eye on Henry while the lady that was with him earlier, who happens to be, a fellow investigator and ethical hacker was to use some coordinates of their devices to hack into all their phones. This was to fish out Henry’s cronies. He so much wanted to warn me about Henry but he couldn’t botch years of work to nab the criminal.

At last, the plane landed and I was kind of expecting my family at the airport but there was not a single soul. Yoofi took extra pains to drive me all the way to Lashibi, to my parents rented place. By now all the properties of Henry would be confiscated and so I wouldn’t be able access anything I owned from his apartment. On arriving home, the atmosphere was tense. My mum looked like she had been crying, my siblings appeared confused and my Dad was no where in sight. Yoofi was received well and served with water and the moment my dad stepped into the living room, I fell down on my knees pleading with tears. My dad was lividddd. He said he didn’t want to see my face in the house ever again and I was a disgrace to him. While he kept talking with so much bitterness and fury, he revealed that he wasn’t even my father and my mother had had me with a vagabond and also out of wedlock. I went through another wave of shock with this revelation and when I heard my mother wailing and beginning to plead with me, it was confirmed. Yoofi realized what was happening and decided to take me away in the meantime and revisit when tempers cool down.

For everything that had happened in the last 5 days, this was the most painful. To think I was a bastard child and didn’t even know who my actual father was. This made sense why I had no semblance to the man i had known as my father all these years while my other siblings had a good mix of both. It made sense that considering my mother’s age she must have had me as a teenager and was probably made to marry my adoptive father who after so many years fathered his own kids with her. I was depressed and more than depressed i was tired. I wanted it all to end.

A: “Where are you going to take me to?” I asked Yoofi without looking at him.

I was filled with so much shame. He silently drove to an unknown neighborhood and then parked the car in front a nice semi-detached house. He turned to face me, took my chin in his hand and gazed lovingly and longingly at me. I must have been imagining it because, it was gone in a flash. Of a truth, there was nothing lovely about me to look upon. I was broken and I had made a messed out of my life but then again he kissed my forehead which further confused me and then he mentioned that someone who predicted my family’s reception and really cares about me was coming to get me.

I heard a knock on the car window and out stood Ms. Adofo dressed casually with a small smile on her face. The moment I got out of the car, she spread her arms around me and gave me a soul-crashing hug that opened the dams again. She cooed and patted my back and when I calmed down, we both said our goodbye to Yoofi as Ms. Adofo led me to her residence. For the next few days, Ms. Adofo tended to me like a mother. I didn’t know she could be this sweet. She made me skip work for several days and got someone to do my work in the interim. She told me her own story of how she never got married because she was deceived by a man she gave her youth to who eventually died without marrying her or having kids with her. She despised losing her youthful self so much which also meant running out of potential suitors. She became quite bitter and invested in her work which was far more rewarding. This gave me fresh perspective on why she was the way she was. Come to think of it, she wasn’t mean to the younger ones just because she was mean-spirited rather we were a stark reminder of her own youth and how she wasted with a man who never gave her the love of starting her own family and having children of her own.

Paa Kwesi and Yoofi visited a few times and took me out on multiple occasions to cheer me up. Now all that was left was to reconcile with my family and so one Sunday after church, Paa Kwesi, Yoofi and Ms. Adofo accompanied me to my father’s house to apologize once again. This time around my father extended his arm to me and embraced me followed by my mum. Fresh tears spilled from my eyes. I was repentant. I was not going to let them down this time around. Not when i have been given a second chance.

The end