Contract Killer

The big shiny black Mercedes crawled lazily through the night slowly bypassing packed cars of diverse make lining both sides of a single lane potholed street. It was late, at about 1am, a time when most of Lagos lay a’ slumber.

With the usual power outage in effect the only sound came from a few generating sets that have been left to run late by their obviously affluent owners in an area where only a few can afford a generator and its fueling, and the distant hum coming from a far off night club.

As the black car turned into a side street, only the neon light of a closed supermarket and the luminous eyes of a stray cat marked its passage. Continuing up the street at a more leisurely pace it finally came to stop opposite a ramshackle building that had apparently survived countless battles over the years; its rear tires dissected a puddle, spraying mucky water on grim ridden perimeter fences.

The surrounding darkness made it hard to make out the outline of the building, but the little light from the few stars twinkling above showed clearly the rots from years of disuse. Barely visible is a makeshift wooden bridge spanning the length of a flooded compound, connecting the top stairs to the broken pavement. Even in the dim light the bridge feels ungainly and apparently was not built to carry more than one person at a time. One only calls a bridge for want of a better word to describe it, for it is more or less a haphazard coupling of broken pieces of wood and rusty iron sheets.

The silence within this area lay largely unbroken as only the faint ping of the car’s thermostat and the deep resonance of an adult male’s snore coming from the house opposite broke through the night’s air. After a few minutes of idle waiting the mild chink of the driver door opening brought brief new sound to the sleeping neighborhood.

A middle aged man steps out of the car, illuminated by the light shimmering through the open door. As he made to close the door, something metallic gleamed in his left hand and his face, which previously was shadowed by the too large bowler hat he wore low in his forehead, is battered by the light from the car.

His expression is one of intense determination mingled with disgust. He lifted his head sharply as the loud bang of a window closing somewhere down the street startles him. His left hand swung towards the sound automatically and the gleam seen earlier turns out to be a gun. Fear clouded his face and his eyes dimmed as he sought out the cause of the disturbance.

Relaxing after he had ascertained that the sound bore him no ill, he closed the door and straightened up.

Balogun Kasim is a practical man and being no stranger to danger he looks out for it, reasoning if one sees it coming he can prepare to meet it in his own terms. About him is a cautiousness that caresses the edge of fidgety. He once again looked around him, paying more heed to the dark window behind him, they appeared devoid of life. He nodded his head as if to acknowledge that all is well and started towards the ramshackle building, walking slowly while keeping his head low.

His eyes darted briefly to the area under the gangplank. Grim and scum battled for prominence within the fetid water amongst which petulance from dead rats and other vermin struggled to find relevance. He shuddered at the thought of falling into a place like that and almost lost his balance when the smell stung his nose and made his eyes water. He looked across the gangplank and nervously measured the distance left to cover. Seeing he had already gotten halfway across gave his limbs the needed vitality to struggle across and into the unknown safety of the pitch-dark building.


From within a dark window two storey above, Sola watched the bully man walk gingerly across the makeshift bridge. Turning to his left, where the dim starlight illuminates a rickety table, he reached out and grabbed a gun and a wicked looking jungle knife, both of which he placed on his person before stalking out of the room. He let his senses guide him as he made his way downwards towards the first floor, keeping the tinny torchlight ready in his hand.

Balogun Kasim did not hear the man enter the spacious but dirt clustered ground floor but had a distinct feeling that he is not alone. He turned sharply unto the full beam of torchlight.

Sola saw the man’s outline as the Chinese torch swept before him, throwing shadows into disarray as darkness receded. Though he had not met him physically before, there was no denying the slight slouch and arrogant droop of the shoulders. That Balogun Kasim is a powerful man is evident in his carriage, that he is slum breed is detectable in his demeanor-that is if you know what tell tale signs to look for.

Sola keep the light beam away from his person facing towards but not directly at Balogun Kasim who was still trying to get used to the iridescence after his sojourn in the dark. This way, he can observe without fear of the complement being paid back.

Apparently noticing and not liking the trick of the light, Balogun Kasim spread his hands in a pleading gesture. “Please” he said a request not a plea.

Sola turns the light off, darkness swept back with the click of the switch, though not as pervasive as it was earlier. For the late moon had at the interval found its weary way from among the scattered rain clouds.

The Balogun coughs, a prelude to speech making that is peculiar to him. “It is said that a man can get things done hear if one knows the right way to ask,” he said, reciting the password that his contact has forced him to memorize all afternoon, with the solemn promise that getting it wrong will avail him nothing but the quickest ticket out of the known world.

“It depends on how it is asked” sola said

“I believe a million is the way, local that is, for a passport out of town.”

“Hmmn, I see you have done your home work.” Sola said, Breaking the code.

“I believe a million is the way, local that is, for a passport out of town.” The Balogun repeated, ignoring the error.

“Oh, I see you are a stickler for details” sola said, the darkness failing to mask the laughter in his voice. “Ok, is it a permanent trip?”

“Yes it is”

“Details?”

“Yes” Balogun Kasim said with open irritation as he pulls out a small envelope from his pocket. He holds it out in the semidarkness “here”

Sola turns on the torch, this time aiming away from the Balogun. He reaches out and collects the envelope and transferring the torch to the crock of his neck, proceeds to open it.

“Can you do that later?” the Balogun said, shifting from one foot to the other, impatient.

Sola looks up at him from his work, no, he says and goes back to the envelope. The Balogun shrugs and turns to the window.

“I was told you are the best there is.”

“So they say. I just get the job done with a little fuss as possible.” Sola said as he pulls out a color photo. He did not look at it before putting it into his pocket. He shone the light into the envelope and moves it around as he counts the bundles of money inside.

“She is my wife you know.” Chief Balogun said offhandedly turning back to look at sola “the only one I have ever trusted my life with.”

“I don’t usually care who a victim is or why they are marked for death, so keep that info to you.” Sola said, cutting him off, “you will get your result in a weeks time and not any sooner, so don’t come back here.”

Chief did not answer, though the heaviness of the air could be attributed to his rising anger, he only shrugged, turns carefully on his heels and stalks out of the room.

Sola walked silently to the open doorway and watched the chief walk gingerly across the gang plank back to his car. Only then did he pull out the picture, it dropped out of his hand as soon as the light of the torch hit it. Stunned, he stood there immobile, looking down at it where it lay face up on the floor.

The sound of the car starting shook him out of his lethargy. Picking up the picture, he ran across the gangplank with the ease of long practice.

The car was beginning to pull away by the time he got to the street, sprinting up, he caught up with the car and tapped on the driver side window, keeping phase with the car.

Balogun Kasim heard the tapping sound before he saw the figure running beside his car, panicking, he was about to increase speed when he noticed the photo held to the window. Recognizing it, he looked up and saw sola.

He stopped the car and rolled down the window. “What?” he asked.

“This,” sola said, holding up the photo, “who is it?” he asked averting his face.

“I thought the code is ‘no questions asked’?” the Balogun asked peering out from behind his bowler hat.

“Yes, but there are exceptions”

“Well I wanted to tell you earlier. You didn’t seem interested then, so I wondered at your interest now,” the Balogun said, looking intently at Sola who was trying to maintain a calm exterior. “She is my wife.”

“Your wife!” he said sharply, turning to look the Balogun full in the eye.

“Yes my wife. That surprises you doesn’t it? But, the most intriguing thing that should be the fact that I still love her.” The Balogun said, smiling a bitter sweet smile.

Sola didn’t reply. Looking down at his hands, he noticed that they are shaking. He quickly hides them inside his pocket, hoping chief Kasim did not notice. He looked up to see him looking at him strangely.

“Are you still going to do the job?” Balogun Kasim asked.

“I will get back to you.” Sola said and walked away from the car.

Balogun Kasim stared after him for awhile then smiled his bitter-sweet smile and drove away.

Sola watched the car disappear down the corner. He stood staring down the street for a long time, and then he lifts the picture again and looks at the image of a young woman in her prime. She is smiling into the camera, a birthday cake with lighted candles in front of her.

Sola looks at the picture for a long time until his shaking fingers made him winch and place it back into his breast pocket.

As he walked down the street a slight rain starts to fall. He pulled his hood over his head as the drizzle became heavier.

He turns a corner opposite the one the chief took and disappeared, the street returned to its previous quietness.

Balogun Kasim pulled into his expansive compound and parked the car near the entrance; he didn’t want to wake the entire household. Once again he was grateful for his foresight in installing the new remote controlled security gate, there was no need of calling the guard to open the gate for him, not that they would not know when he came in but it saves announcing his presence before hand.

He peeked into his wife’s bedroom. Hell! He exclaimed inwardly she is beautiful. He enters the room proper and stood for several minutes looking down on her sleeping form on the bed. His eyes traced all the contours of her body, sought those places he liked putting his hands to, those places that she loved him touching.

Desire came upon him before he could check himself. He gently climbed into the bed and cradling her sleeping head, kissed her deeply until she opened her eyes.

“Darling,” she murmured sweetly, gently folding into the circle of his arms, “are you just coming in?”

How easily she lies, he thought to himself. He was sure that she spent the entire afternoon with her lover and yet she could easily pretend to enjoy his caress, returning his deep kiss with equal vigor. His usual doubts assailed him then. Could she have done it? Is there no mistake? No! His inner voice insisted, those pictures and videos couldn’t have been faked neither was what his naked eyes saw last week when she dropped her lover off at the bus stop. He did not care much about the man that is screwing his wife, well, not enough to want to know his identity, she offered herself to him so his sin is less than hers.

Pushing the bitter thoughts of her infidelity from his mind, he turned towards her again and drew her closer, stifling her playful protests with the force of his kiss. As usual her love making was explosive, only dampened by the fact that he suspected she put up a show for him, feigning the moans and quakes of her climax. If what he suspects is true, then his wife stands a good chance of winning an Oscar for acting.

Later, in the bathroom, he sobbed away his frustrations and emerged feeling more depressed and convinced that his decision is correct.


His phone rang just as he was about to retire to his room. He paused to contemplate the unknown caller id.

“Yes?” he said impatiently into the mouthpiece.

“Balogun Kasim?” a gruff voice asked.

“Speaking,”

“This is to let you know that your contract is on track. You are to send the agreed fee to the agreed location.”

Balogun Kasim stood still for a moment his body shaking. He did not hear the click of the phone being hung up on the other side. There was really no need for that for he had allowed the phone to drop from his shaking fingers.


That Bimbo Kasim is a beautiful woman is an understatement, her beauty transcends the descriptiveness of the European dictionary, it has an overly African feel that is expressed more or less by her amble bum and the fact that her boobs, though two sizes larger than average, still manages to defy the pull of gravity. Her well chiseled features go rather well with her ebony black complexion. Being taller than her husband, she has learnt to do without the high heeled shoes she had favored as a university student.

Now, walking towards the car park of her spacious spa, she reminds many a man of the fabled goddesses of Yoruba mythology. Her plaited hair and simple gown does more to accentuate her appearance than not. As she passed by, all eyes involuntarily followed her, the females with envy and the men with unabashed lust.

She stopped beside a big infinity four runner, painted a bright red with tinted glasses. The car had earlier being attracting as much attention as its owner is attracting now and both make for one explosive fantasy of most of the men that were watching. She had already opened the automatic door and was about sliding in when her phone rang. She smiled sweetly when she saw the caller id.

“Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” she cooed into the mouthpiece

“I am fine.” replied the voice on the other end.

“You don’t sound fine to me. What is wrong?”

“Nothing much, but we have to meet urgently.” The voice insisted, with tone of worry and tension tainting his speech.

“Honey, what’s wrong, I thought you were the one that insisted that we take a few days break so that you can have time to run a business?”

“Yes I did, but something just came up that makes it imperative that we see as soon as possible. Can we meet tonight at the usual place?”

“Aw! I don’t know about tonight I have this dinner with the Balogun at the government house.”

“Just find a way. It must be tonight and it is a matter of life and death.”

“Life and death, whose life?” she asked, alarmed.

“Let’s just say that it will do you a whole lot of good if you make it tonight. I will see you then. Bye.”

Hey! Hold on! Don’t disconnect, she shouted. CLICK, the connection was severed at the other end. She tried calling the number but it was switched off. Apparently he did not want to talk about what ever the problem was over the phone. Flustered, she looked around frantically aware that she had been shouting.

Entering her car she drove towards home wondering what he meant by a life and death matter. The thought of chief finding out about her lover entered her mind but she shrugged it off, she had been too careful for that, there is no way chief can ever find out. Aside from twice or trice when she had to unavoidably drop him off at the bus stop, she has not appeared in public with her lover. Even then, she only kissed him goodbye in the safety of her tinted car.

Aw! She mussed, recalling his kisses has a way off turning her on at the wrong time. Well, there is no problem there; all she had to do is endure the hot tightness that had seeped into her middle until tonight.

She noticed chief’s car in the garage as she drove into their spacious compound. This did much to douse her desire and raise the conflict in her mind. She sought for a reason to turn around and back to her spa but knowing he must know she is back and would question why she had to drive all the way back for whatever it was she forgot when she could easily send someone, she packed her car next to his and instead sat in it fiddling with her design book, delaying entering the house for as long as she could.

She must have sat there for hours, lost in the world of her work until an insistent tap on her window brought her back from design world. Startles she straightened up to find her husband peering at her over the top of the half wind down window.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said breathing a little easier, “You startled me.”

“ I am sorry, it just that you have being cropped up in your car since you came in about two hours away that I wondered what it was that is so interesting to keep you here so long.” Chief Balogun said, his voice though tinged with humor is flat and unreadable.

“Oh my God!” Bimbo exclaimed genuinely, “has that much time elapsed? Good God! I just wanted to check out some designs I had being working on for Nubian creations, I guess I got engrossed with it.”

“Well I am happy I am around to break you off it. Now I know your design is a big thing for you but if you don’t hurry, we will miss another big thing, the dinner in the government house.” The chief said as he opened the car door for her and elegantly ushered her towards the main house.

“Thanks darling, you know I totally forgot about that dinner I hope we can still make it in time.” Bimbo replied as sweetly as she could, while she cringed inside as her mind sought for avenues through which to meet up with her appointment with her lover.


Sola crossed over to the other side of the road, hoping find a vantage point to await his date. The night has gotten colder than he had envisaged earlier and he was beginning to rue his discarding of the jean jacket he usually wore on cold nights. Well, he thought to himself, it’s nothing a few swigs of brandy wouldn’t cure, that and a serious tumble in the sheets if the night goes well.

It was not as if he is expecting things to go bad, no not at this stage. It is just that he is use to being cautious about any and everything, the secret of his longevity in a business that have killed off most of his mates.

He entered the little bar at the junction and sidled up to the counter where a pretty girl of about eighteen smiled flirtingly at him before taking his order. Carrying a small bottle of brandy to a window side table, he began his vigil.

To a causal observer he will appear calm and collected, but a closer look betrays the slow grinding motion of his jaws, the only thing that shows his agitation.

He must have waited there for about one hour when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Even before he looked at the caller id, he knew who the caller was.

“Hello,” he said into the mouthpiece, allowing the impatience he felt to taint his voice.

“Hi dear, I am there but I can’t see you anywhere.” The sweet female voice on the other end inquired.

“Ok, I am on my way. I am just across the street.” He downed the remaining of his drink in one gulp and walked out the door.



Bimbo watched through the rain splattered windscreen as the tall lean muscled young man jumped lithely across the open gutter. The rippling of his muscles under his tight T shirt caused her heart to skip a beat, sending a flood of warmth through her.

As he neared the door she leaned over and opened it for him.

“How are you?” he leaned across the gear shift to lightly brush his lips across hers, drawing away before she could catch hold of his lips with hers like she is wont to do- turning what was meant to be peck into a deep French kiss.

Showing her displeasure at his treatment, she looked him full in the face but the seriousness of his expression drowned out the complaint on her lips.

“What is it dear?” a worried frown knitting up her pretty face, “Are you in trouble again?”

He shook his head slowly, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips as a flitting memory of his ‘troubles’ flashed across his minds eye.

“Your husband came to see me,” he said simply, leaning back on his seat, his head resting on the door frame, and gauged her reaction.

He knew the news will affect her bad, but not as bad as she was exhibiting. She had started at his words, the steering wheel jerking in her hands; the car skidded, narrowly missing a car in the opposite lane as she swerved for the curb, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

Her chest heaved up and her eyes blazed at him, sudden fear dilating her pupils. He felt that had her skin being fairer, the color would have drained from them.

“He what?” she finally managed to ask, her voice a fierce whisper that was as incredulous as it was fierce.

“He came to see me yesterday. No, he doesn’t know me, not like that anyway. Some one directed him.”

“Why did he come to see you then?” the heaving of her chest appears to lessen at his words, but a tinge of fear still colored her eyes.

“It appears he have found out that you are having an affair. He took out a million Naira contract on you.”

He watched her as it sank in. if she had almost crashed her car before, this time she only bowed her head for a moment and straightened up, her face the picture of deep waters, still and controlled, without the touch of even a faint ripple, though the glint of steel in her eyes belied her calm exterior.

“He paid you one million naira to kill me, his wife, what did he say about the lover. I am sure when he finds out that he paid my lover to kill me he will have that heart attack he has been having nightmares about.” She said, smiling broadly, “I didn’t know he had it in him, yes I know he is dangerous, but I never thought he will go as far as killing me for being unfaithful. Here I am, scared of him finding out because of what a messy divorce will do to my image and he was planning to kill me.”

“I took the contract before I realized you are the target. I know I promised to leave this line of work, I needed money to take care of you when we leave the country.”

She did not respond, only looked at him fixedly, a strange light burning in her eyes. She had known he would not accept any form of help from her; he always wanted to act the ‘man’ and provide for his woman. “What did you do when you found out I was the one?”

“Nothing, I was shocked at first, and then I ran after him. I didn’t know he was your husband then. He had earlier offered to give me information on the target, but I declined. I caught up with him as he was about driving away. That was when he told me that you are his wife.”

“Hmmn, I hope he did not suspect your actions?”

“I don’t think he has any reason to. He drove off rather happy that his contract is on track. I think the question should be what do we do?”

“Nothing,” bimbo said, still smiling.

“Nothing, what do you mean nothing? I promised him result in a week’s time.” Sola asked, incredulous.

“And he will get results.” Bimbo responded, starting the car again. “I just hope he doesn’t discover your identity before then. He is waiting for me at the dinner, I feigned an upset stomach halfway through the party and he was kind enough to give me leave to go buy drugs from a pharmacy, but I think it will wise for us not to see each other until I decide how to handle this situation.”

Sola alighted from the car ten minutes later. Standing by the quayside near the lagoon, he watched as the taillight of her car disappeared around a corner before turning to walk the short distance to a bus stop.