“Adjeley” by Ato Kwamena Bentsil.

I could do with a whole bath. Instead, I stand in the bath cubicle with my feet stretched out into the shower. The cold water washes off the dust collected on the dusty red road I walked. I feel my body react to the soothing liquid. It begs for more than just the feet. I ignore the pleas and turn off the shower to avoid more temptation. I’m in no mood to play to-be-or-not-to-be mind games with myself.

Adjeley left today and I’ve being very lonely. She said she’d be gone before I returned from work so I only made a quick stop at home to drop my documents before going for the mournful stroll. She had no plans of coming back soon; the earliest I could hope for was a year. Mogadishu. That’s where she is headed. The very name sends bitter bile up my throat. I can’t go with her, I’d only interrupt her work and investigative journalism ensured the hands were full with every tick and tock. “Besides it’s too dangerous”, she had said. As if any of the stories she had done previously were less dangerous. It would indeed be a long long year. Every minute would be painful to the heart and wearisome to the bone.

Things would not have been this bad if she had showed me she wanted me or even felt something for me. Our relationship was left undefined. Just a little assurance of passionate affection and I wouldn’t be so miserable. Just a little security would have been heart-warming enough. I mean, last night, I told her I wanted to be baptized in her love and her reply was ‘that could wait’. That could wait? So what had we been building all the nights we spent together?

I earnestly thought we had made headway. But those three words brought me back from my world of fantasies. What else in hell’s name could ‘that could wait’ mean? I did not want to hurt her, besides it was our last night together so when she asked for a hug, I grabbed her tight as though I was dying and she was my life support. Now I am left alone and the loneliness is killing me. I’m missing her and she hasn’t called me as she promised she would. I could have at least taken her to the airport but my boss wouldn’t let me. Damn that guy!

Ha! My phone beeps and I smile. She’s sent me a message at last! I rush to the table, pick up my phone and check. Airtel DeeDew Promotion. Wow. I guess my day couldn’t get any better. Maybe I’d just drown my sorrow in sleep. I think and walk to the dimly-lit bedroom. I get to the bed and slump into it but instead of a soft mattress I hit something hard. What the heck? My first impulse is to run and I do just that but when I reach the door, I grope for the switch. I turn on the light. The blood-drenched body I see sends vomit rushing into my mouth.

“It can’t be!!! Adjeleeeeeyy!!!  My dear!  My love!  Oh my God!  Oh my God!’’.

I begin to slink backwards and that is when I feel the chilly hands clutch my neck. Sharp fingers eat into my flesh. Swiftly and well before I can react, my neck snaps.

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11 thoughts on ““Adjeley” by Ato Kwamena Bentsil.

  1. wsgeorge says:

    When I first read this, I felt uneasy. Especially with the last sentence. it was sudden. A bit too sudden. Good story telling.

  2. I love how this unfolded..and i guess the ending made sense because her work was ‘dangerous’. I do however wish it has remained a sorrowful tale because that was relatable. But i really like this! Good work

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