JAGUNLABI✔

PART TWO : CHAPTER NINE

NIYI

Teniola's mother arrived in the company of Sesan King.

Unsurprisingly, the resemblance between him and Jagunlabi was mind blowing. Afi bi igba ti a la Jagunlabi si meji. As if Jagunlabi had been divided into two.

Being versed in spiritual matters as a result of being a seventh generation babalawo, it was not difficult for me to keep a straight face despite my suspicions. I did not trust him as far as I could throw him. He was fortunate that the unseen elders had warned me to keep calm when I met him.

"Niyi! Omo mi da? Ye! Kini mo n duro se ti mi o ba ri omo mi? Niyi! Where is my daughter? What am I waiting for in this life if I don't find my daughter?" Teniola's mother wailed. She lay on the ground and refused to sit on a chair or lay on a bed.

"Mum, I cannot explain how much I love your daughter, but I can assure you that I'm doing everything I can to find her," I replied as I clutched her hands.

My father sat beside her on the ground and attempted to pacify her. "Lagbara Olorun, a ma ri. By the grace of God, we will find her."

Sesan sat on her other side with his arm over her shoulder. "Jowo, ma su'kun mo. Please, don't cry anymore. Teniola will be back home safe and sound," he whispered.

"Mo so fun. I told her."she cried. "I told her not to stay in Nigeria!" She ran her hands through her hair which was now a tangled mess. "No one is safe here, any day could be your last."

My uncle, the editor in chief of The African Financier and a fierce patriot, shifted in his seat. His lips parted and my father glared at him in warning. My uncle kept silent, folded his arms and joined the general chorus of sympathizers. Now was not the time to tell her what we all knew. Nigeria certainly had its issues, but crime, especially mass shootings were at an all time high in the United States. Safety was not guaranteed over there either.

My mother brought out a tray of food from the kitchen and insisted we all eat. She set the tray on the table and knelt in front of Teniola's mother. I could not eat, sleep or drink without being forced to, neither could my future mother in law.

My mother held her feet. "Iya wa, e dakun. E gbiyanyu lati je ounje. Nigbati Teniola ba pada wa, se inu e ma dun lati ri pe e ru? Our mother, please. Try to eat. When Teniola returns, will she be pleased to see you frail?"

"E seun, ma. E ba mi fi sinu abo kan. Ma je. Thank you, ma'am. Put it in a plate. I will eat it," she replied.

Sesan expressed his gratitude, and took the tray. "Don't worry, I'll make sure she eats something."

I smiled while harboring my indignation. Sesan was here playing Captain America, while one way or another he was linked to Teniola's disappearance. Be it directly or indirectly, we would all discover soon enough.

My father rose to his feet, and gave me a discrete eye signal. He excused himself from the sitting room and went upstairs. In order not to draw attention to us, I sat with Teniola's mum for about ten minutes afterwards. When Sesan started spoon feeding her rice and stew and coaxing her to have a sip of water, I seized the opportunity to follow my father.