Fat #1 (the prologue of sorts)


She stared at the fat blob in front of the mirror in disgust, that it moved when she moved, lifted its arm when she did hers annoyed her. Frustrated, she turned away from the mirror towards the closet, the phone rung downstairs. ”god damn it”

Naked, she walked down the stairs with some reluctance, “this better be god damned worth it”. She caught it on the last ring, a husky voice pierced through the other end of the line, she wrapped an arm over her breast and sighed, the other holding the phone to her ear.

The house was dead quiet, the scent of dawn felt thick through her open windows, from where she stood she could see clearly through them to the porch where the street light behind her wall cast a glow on a set of garden chairs. They mildly blocked her potted plants, she sighed again through the telephone and listened.

“So where is he now?”

She yanked the cord and fell butt naked into her couch, resting her head so it tilted up. Her eyes were closed.

“Good, the next time you call me at this ungodly time again I will fucking kill you” She took the phone away from her ear and forced herself to her feet. The voice was bickering on when it clicked on the receiver.


Nana Ama’s eyes opened on instinct. Her hands searched round for her phone in the darkness.


She turned sharply. “God, Ewura you scared me” She found the phone and pointed it at her roommate; she was pulling herself up.

“Sorry, I barely slept” Her voice faded off to silence.

Nana Ama fit her legs into her slippers and walked towards the door to turn on the lights. “He didn’t come back last night, he didn’t call me…I’m scared too”

The lights came on to a hunched Ewura, she was seated at the edge of her bed going through her phone. It was still connected to the charger, she hadn’t noticed yet. “Do you think somethings happened?”

Ama slapped her back to the wall. “I dont know…” She turned her head towards Ewura so they stared at themselves “Maybe she’s got him”


A local worship song blared out the vans radio, Attah chewed on his stick in silence, eyes fixed squarely on the road infront of him. His headlights turned the road yellow with its illumination, around him trees swished by, the road lay empty yet his legs stayed half way down the acceleration. Beside him Hamzah lay dead asleep, saliva coursing down the side of his lip. His phone rang suddenly, jerking Hamzah awake.

“Hello”, he turned to his co-pilot and smiled mischevously, Hamzah glared back at him wiping his spittle with the back of his hands.

“By 6:30, yessa” He frowned and pulled the right indicator light up. Slowly the car drew to a shaky stop at the side of the road. Hamzah turned to him as if to enquire with his eyes “Okay, yessa, byebye” He pulled up the brake and turned off the engine.

“Why he sey what?” Attah ignored the question, taking out the key. He got down. It was so dark he could barely see, “your phone get light?” Hamzah joined him by the boot of the van with an actual torch. He pointed it at the boot, Attah opened.

Inside a lifeless body lay tied up with rope, his mouth had been gagged with socks. Hamzah directed the torch to his face, the eyelids flickered. “Then say make we check again sey he dey aa” Hamzah nodded, almost as if to himself “Fine boy gyimi gyimi, Kwasia kraaa” Attah slammed the trunk shut.


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