Soliat?

Before contemplating whether to walk up to her or not, Alhaji and Ahmed came before him, obstructing his view.

Ahmed looked particularly pleased to see him. "I won Yasmin's bet."

The foolish woman.

"I'm glad you came," Alhaji said.

"Is this like a cultural event? I feel out of place."

He laughed. "We northerners have a sharp sense of cultural consciousness. We're very cultural and religious."

"Cultural is admirable, religions is not. I hate religious people."

"That's ironical coming from a sourtherner." Alhaji stopped a servant to take two glasses from his tray and gave one to Edegbe.

"Thank you." He collected the glass. "Exactly my point. Religion, especially christianity, in south is very hypocritic. It's very beautiful how people carry the Bible and shout Hallelujah, but it will surprise you how easy it is for these people to drop the Bible."

"It's very much different here," Alhaji was saying. "Worshippers here are very committed."

"It's one thing to be committed, another to be true to what you serve. How many of the Muslims here are true to their Allah? It goes beyond kissing your head to the floor like a rabid animals suddenly tamed."

"You should be careful with your choice of words, Mr. Edegbe, anybody can hear you and misinterpret you, and suddenly you turn martyr for a dubious cause. That is how defensive we are about our religion." The warning was palpable.

"I don't think your Allah will be proud to see you defend something you don't even know." Beside him, Efe nudged his ribs, but he went on as if his side had suddenly turned leprous. "Then there's the judgement, religious people are very judgemental, they suddenly turn to mini God. There's this movie I watched, Adire, it depicts how judgemental some religious people can be."

"Some," Alhaji stressed.

"Yes, some. Of course not every religious person is hypocritic, but I like to know that who I'm getting involved with is not religious. I believe that God exist, but I don't owe my bad days or good days to entities I don't see. The issue of religion in itself varies amongst different tribes."

"A variation that puts people at enmity with each other," Alhaji agreed.

"Exactly, now we agree on this, but if I talk about Jesus, it's controversial because you believe it's Mohammed. Religion is supposed to preach love and bring people together, but the contrary is the case, it creates a rift between people of different beliefs."

"But people need to believe in something, it's a necessity for us," Ahmed added, gulping down his third glass of wine. "Most of us had so many questions growing up and religion came close to the answer."

"Religion came close to the answer because you were introduced to it as a child. If a child does not hear about a god all his life, religion wouldn't be a necessity."

"It's not really about religion," a man joined their conversation. "Like he said, it's the need to believe. You might not believe in a god, but you believe in things like conscience, and karma, and fate. It's in the innate nature of man to want to believe in something, there are things that happen beyond our human understanding, and as long as those things happen, we need to believe there is a reason for it."

Edegbe looked pleased. "That's quite a way to put it, but I must agree with you."

"Is it out of wisdom that a man openly accepts defeat or out of humiliation?"

Edegbe did not need to turn to know that the biting words belonged to Mrs. Yasmin. He had been too engrossed in his discussion that he had lost focus on her and didn't know when she made her way towards them long enough to overhear the conversation. He had told himself the woman was literal trouble and he would stay off her path, but he would not concede to whatever she said for that reason.

"Why, do you have a problem with that?" She smelled of tangerine, and since she was within arms length, it seemed everything around smelled of tangerine too.

She looked at him, sharp and pointy before turning to Efe. "Does he fear that a room full of committed Muslims would attack a non committed pagan?"

"Will a room full of committed Muslims attack a non committed pagan?" Efe asked too, his look blunt.

She lowered her gaze, then shrugged.

"I would love it if you stop pestering my friend and I," Edegbe said.

"What's the meaning of your name?" Mrs. Yasmin asked.

The question caught him off guard as it had the first time. Why was she so curious about what his name meant? They weren't close for that kind of information. But does one need familiarity to answer that type of question? He wanted to tell her what it meant, wanted to shut her up and not have her ask him again, but suddenly telling her felt like he lost the battle, a battle he just realized existed.

"You still don't know? Until you do then." Then she walked away.

"Don't mind Yasmin," Alhaji laughed. "She's frustrated because she doesn't know how much money you have, it boosts her ego to berate you."

"She should work on her self esteem then and leave me alone." But Edegbe did not really think that she had a low self esteem, if anything, she looked like someone who could intimidate another.

"By the way, my name is Bello," the man who had joined their conversation said, bringing his hand for a hand shake. "I must say, you are an intelligent fellow. And it is wisdom that a man is open to knowledge."

"Thank you," Edegbe shook his hand. "Edegbe."

"Even I wants to know the meaning," he joked.

He smiled, but didn't respond. "If I may ask, what's the celebration about?"

"Rich people do not need a valid reason to hold a soiree, a friend of mine once hosted a party because his third child, still a toddler, said 'da'." The men laughed.

"So there's no reason for this gathering?"

"Relax," Bello said, "Even your bouncer looked relaxed"

Edegbe looked at Efe to see if he truly looked relaxed, although he knew he was always poised. "He's not my bouncer, he's my friend."

Bello shook his head as he dropped his empty glass on a gray passing by while Ahmed picked his fifth. "He might not be your bouncer, but he's your employee in a kind of way. There's something in his silence and composure that only money can buy."

He said something incoherent as his eyes followed Mrs. Yasmin across the hall saying hello to this woman and that woman while keeping a straight face. Maybe it was the wrapper she wore, or maybe it was her fair skin, he did not know what made her stand out, neither did he know what made his eyes lock on her. His focus was to a fault, that he did not remember Efe excusing himself or what the host had climbed on stage to say the party was about, and sometimes she would glance his way too with a look that told him she was aware of his gaze. He shook his head and told himself there was a degree to some stupidity, turned to his side to tell Efe that there was a degree to some stupidity but found him absence. With a sigh, he dropped his half drunk glass on a passing tray as Bello pointed a couple to him.

"This man has bastard connection, but his means of gaining them will surprise you."

The man and his wife looked like they didn't pass for physical looks compatibility, and so it was a surprise to see that their daughter, not more than thirteen, was very beautiful. Of course, Edegbe did not ogle at her, but her looks were very attracting, better than majority. She appeared timid, a shivering timidity.

Bello introduced them, called him the new big thing, a serious investor. The man became ecstatic when he heard he was into agriculture and told him he owned a pig farm and asked if they could do business together. Edegbe did not promise anything, only glanced at the young girl who looked like she wanted to be elsewhere. The man saw his gaze and smile, a smile Edegbe would understand hours later.

When they left, Bello told him. "His business is bad, his business has always been bad, I wonder if he doesn't make research."

"Wallahi, he doesn't," Ahmed said, appearing tipsy. "He's always looking for people to invest in his business."

"And it looks like he gets them," Edegbe said watching the man.

"Like I said, his method will surprise you."

Edegbe was going to ask what his method was when a figure too familiar for comfort walked past. Aside from the dress, the long gown that fell to the ankle, the bulging in the right places told him it was a girl. He excused himself and trailed her.

He stopped beside the wall where a large frame of Zuma rock was hung when she stopped to greet some elderly women, and when she turned, his eyes first caught the henna tattoo on her hand, and as he eyes trailed to meet her face, the shinny gold stud ring on her nose told him why she felt so familiar. It was the girl from the bus, the girl who had given Efe her number. Sol—

"See something you like?"

"Plenty," he answered, wondering what Efe's reaction would be. Then he registered the voice and turned to see Mrs. Yasmin.

"You're a man after all," she said and Edegbe wondered if her sneer in her voice was out of disapproval or disappointment.

Nevertheless, he answered, "Yes, I am man," in that matter of fact tone the man who had asked him for a condom had used in explaining the material. "Who is she?"

"The prodigal child of one of the wealthiest men Kaduna has."

"Prodigal child?"

"And rebellious. Her father has this idea of what a lady should aspire for; a husband and children. But the girl does not believe those are her priorities, so she took her things and left the house and the wealth."

Explained why she was on the same bus with them. "You don't believe that a lady should aspire for a husband and children?"

"Walk down the street of rural communities and young girls with children at their hips and backs will tell you how much people believe it. Even the girls have been socialized to believe it."

"I asked if you believed."

Mrs. Yasmin looked at him. "Would you like your woman to aspire for a husband and children first before daring to dream and daring to want a life for herself? At least you're not a religious christian to tell me a man was created to manage the world, and a woman was created to help him."

Edegbe did not know why but he suddenly felt guilty. What fool went around and told women to prioritize a husband and children? Deciding to change the subject, he asked her, "Why did you make that stupid bet?"

"Stupid bet?" She scoffed. "I wonder what right you think you have to call me and my money stupid."

Why did it feel like she was twisting his words? "You can take that as an insult if you so choose, but you look sensible for a bet like that."

"I look sensible?"

Their gaze met and held. She did look sensible. And beautiful, although he was not sure she would appreciate the compliment, and he was not sure she would answer if he asked her whether her hair were naturally curly and why she choose to tie wrapper.

"Your bouncer left?" She retracted her gaze.

"He's my friend." He did same.

"You said he's your P.A."

"And my friend too. He was my friend before my P.A. You seem very interested in him."

"He's a handsome man, a healthy lady is attracted to a handsome man the same way a healthy man is attracted to a beautiful lady, like you." She nodded towards the girl.

"What's her name?" Edegbe did not want to mind that she misunderstood him, and in as much as he wanted to explain, he decided otherwise.

"Soliat, she's a Yoruba muslim, and— oh she's leaving."

Edegbe's head jerked up. "I have to go." He had taken a step forward when he turned back. "Would you still be standing here by the time I return?"

"Are you asking me to wait for you?" She asked and waited. When he didn't respond, she said, "No, I won't wait for a man who can't tell me to wait for him."

She hadn't needed to interpret it, he thought as he made for the door. Not so that he would go after Soliat, but to find Efe.

Efe had taken comfort at the back of the seat. Between him and Victor was a silence he knew was not comfortable for the other man. He had noticed the uneasiness Victor had since he reported him, and maybe he stopped talking to him so he wouldn't refer to him as sir. He didn't mind the silence the same way he hadn't minded the noise. When the door to the car open, he opened his eyes. "Are we going now?"

"Never in a million years will you be able to guess who I have just seen," Edegbe told him in an excited tone.

"Who?" To say he was interested was a lie.

"Guess."

He almost rolled his eyes. "You just said never in a million years will I be able to guess who you saw."

"Oh, right. I saw a lady, a dark skinned lady, slim and slightly tall, wearing this beautiful gown. She has a tattoo on her hand and fingers, you know this their local tattoo? Of course, she's wearing a hijab like every other muslim, and she also has a ring here," he tapped on his nose. "Then her eyes are lined with the dark thing women use to line their eyes. Rings any bell?"

"That's a very detailed description," he said.

"Try to think, isn't there anyone that fits into that description?"

"There are thousands of women that fits into that description."

Edegbe nodded. "But only one gave you her number."

It took Efe a minute for it to sink, he opened his mouth to say something and closed it. He sat upright. "Who did you see?"

"That's right, the girl who gave you her number. It's such a small world, isn't it?"

But Efe did not like that it was such a small world, did not like that he was affected by this one coincidence. "When are we leaving?"

"You're not going to see her?"

"Would you see her if you're in my shoes?"

Edegbe laughed. "I just cannot stop thinking that she saw you throw her number. When did you leave?"

"When you were too busy watching Mrs. Yasmin."

The excitement in his voice died down. "You noticed?"

"I was looking at you the whole time, of course I noticed."

"Oh."

"Oh?" Efe laughed. "But can you tell the woman to leave me alone."

"She thinks you're handsome," Edegbe told him.

"Thinks? She knows I'm handsome. It's a good thing she has a good taste in men."

"And she's thinks I'm not wealthy."

"Thinks? She knows you're not wealthy. It's a good thing she has a good taste in men."

Then they laughed.