THE MOSQUITO

I've always lived a simple life, your average Nigerian.

I wake up at the crack of dawn already annoyed, I push myself out of bed to prepare for work. I rewarm the soup that I am already tired of eating to pack as lunch, I try to survive the madness that occurs on the busy road to work and I provide a good attitude for my coworkers because I don't want to be the odd one out.

I close from work and try to see if I can hit the market before it gets too dark, the sellers are standoffish now, the day has ended for them too.

I return home exhausted but I have to cook tomorrow's lunch. After eating, I scroll endlessly on social media while berating myself for not being productive.

That is how I have lived and have been living, you'll find ten other Nigerians who live exactly the same way.

I have a simple life, it had been simple until I woke up this morning. Doing my usual routine, only to find a human’s head inside my fridge.

I closed the fridge, hoping it was the sleep in my eyes making me imagine things or that horror movie that edits finally made watch, either way I was seeing things.

After counting to ten, I opened it again. The head was there, my hands fell from the fridge’s door, my ass landed on the ground and I bit my lips to stop the scream that threatened to explode.

My village people had won. I thought as my alarm rang again reminding me I only had an hour left before clocking in time at work.

“Jesus, jesus, jesus” these were the only words I was able to let out even if it had been ages since I last attended a church service or even considered praying.

I closed the fridge again because I had priorities, I had a routine. You miss one day at that office and five thousand naira is deducted from your salary before you're able to explain.

I pushed the head to the back of my mind and prepared to leave the house. The sun was hot and the streets was littered with people, more people than you'd notice normally, but I ignored them.

I ignored the akara woman I greeted every morning, I ignored Uchenna, my neighbour's son who always said hi as he left for school. I felt like I was being watched, maybe it was in my head or it was just the fact that I had seen eyes that did not belong to mine in my fridge.

The eyes were brown, like those fake chocolate bread they sold in the market. It was the head of a man, he had a small goatee and dimples. I like dimples

“Stellaaaa!!!” Aminat dragged my name as she stood before me holding out a document. I was in the office.

“Ugh… yes Aminat?” I asked. She rolled her eyes and smacked her gum in that annoying manner that made you want to seal her mouth shut. She was always doing that, chewing gum loudly, making pink hair to stand out, wearing heels when she knew she had k-legs.

“You know how many times I dun call you? Wetin you dey think?” she looked at my table “today you no carry food?”

I looked at my table too but saw the head instead, the head that had made it impossible for me to warm the stew I had prepared.

“I'm not hungry” I replied “what is it?” My eyes moved to the document in her hands.

“I don't know, oga said I should give you yesterday but I forgot so here it is, if you like tell him” Aminat dropped the documents on my desk before she walked away.

I looked over the documents, it was expenses that had not been documented yet. I went over everything with all the focus I could muster.

Caleb turned on the office television, he likes listening to the morning news at nine. The voice of the anchor came through.

“...sadly the body found at the dumpster was missing it's head, from police findings in the victims clothes, the victim is the CEO of Durian Finances, a budding financial company…”

I tuned out the news as everyone in the office screamed, Aminat ran to Folake’s door but his office was meeting. Everybody was on their feet in shock, our Oga's body was just announced without its head on National television.

The memories of yesterday came back faster than a train wreck.

Folake Durian was my CEO and also an old friend from school. We've kept our familiarity secret from the rest of the staff but outside work, we talked a lot. He was always jokingly flirty and I was always swerving his shots.

Yesterday, he insisted on knowing my place. His claim;

“Stella, We've known each other for seven years now and I still don't know where you stay. Wait for me after work, I'll drive and you'll give directions”

I had thought he was joking but he purposely gave me work that made everyone else leave before me. I gave in after his persuasion and we drove to my place. He had stopped to get me some provisions as his ‘visiting my house for the first time’ gift.

Everything was going well, we were laughing and arguing as friends did until he tried to kiss me. He failed the first time, the second time, the third time, I had slapped him when he tried again for the fourth time and told him to leave.

Folake pinned me down on my own bed, pressed my stomach with his knee and told me to his face.

“You're always acting so stuck up and almighty, I'll show you today”

I had fought, with all the might I possibly could but Folake had his way, he had his fill and then stood up with a smile as I tried to flush the last thirty minutes away from my mind.

He cleaned himself as I laid on the bed, unable to move, unwilling to move.

He laughed “Now, that wasn't so hard. Remember to keep your mouth shut, no one would believe you anyway, you and I walked in here together laughing, your neighbours saw it” he turned his back at me, ready to leave “See you at work, Stella”

He walked away, towards the door. Ready to leave me, the victim. I hadn't realized when I had stood up or the time I had picked up my iron. Everything happened in a rush, I had hoped on dying but I was not going to let him leave before I died.

I bashed his head with the iron, I bashed his head multiple times until the iron dripped with blood.

But it was not enough, it felt like those mosquitoes that made you frustrated before you finally killed them, killing them wasn't enough. You had to squeeze them until nothing remained, until you felt disgusted.

That is what I had done, his smile kept replaying in my head as cut his head up. As I moved his body into his car in the middle of the night, as I drove his car into the farmlands of people I had no idea of.

His smile haunted me as I cleaned my room and scrubbed my body until my shoulders bled, his smile plagued my dreams but somehow, I had forgotten about it, until this moment as pictures of his body and car flooded the screen.

“The police are here!” Kelvin the security men screamed as he ran into the office, everybody turned around in shock.

“Stella Adams, you're under arrest for the murder of Folake Durian. You have the right to remain silent or whatever you say will be used against you in the court of law”

As the handcuffs were licked around my wrists and as the policewoman shoved me into their van. All I kept thinking about was how they linked it to me and when did the Nigerian justice system start working overtime?

I was no longer an average Nigerian, I had murdered a man.

And for some reason. Just like squeezing that mosquito.

It gave me satisfaction.