Chapter Twenty Nine – A miraculous click

It was half past 5 in Nigeria when Zayaan’s flight landed on an international airport. Zayaan could not help but look around the place from the moment he got out of the flight. He kept on looking even as he took his luggage and began to walk out of the airport. His heart was constantly telling him that she could be anywhere, so he had to keep looking. And every moment even the thought that he may not find her at all crossed his mind, he felt a tightness in his chest that compelled him to think otherwise.

He was going to find her. He had to.

Zayaan looked out of the window of the taxi he got in from the airport as it drove on the streets of Lagos state. He was a bit sad as this wasn’t the state Saba had told him as her home.

“We used to live in Anambra. We had a small home which my father had rented before we moved abroad.”

Saba had told him before. He had always told her that one day they will visit Saba’s old place so that she could tell him more about her childhood memories.

Zayaan sighed as he remembered those happy moments. The laughter they shared, the smiles they exchanged and the love they showed one another. He wondered if they will ever have those moments again. And yet again, his heart gave a definite ‘yes’ as an answer to that question. There was no way he wasn’t going to find her after all the duas he made to Allah, Zayaan thought to himself.

Zayaan arrived at the hotel he was supposed to check in to, after about an hour of driving. It was a spacious room with a queen bed and other facilities a three-star hotel would have. Zayaan gave a call to Laaiq and manager James as soon as he arrived there and changed his clothes into a T-shirt and pants. He then stood at the balcony of that room that was on the 21st floor of the hotel and looked at the busy street right near the hotel and stared at the never-ending scene of lit buildings. Just as he was about to ask himself the question he obsessively thought about, his phone began to ring. It was his friend Fawaz, who worked as a policeman in their hometown in New Zealand.

Zayaan received the call in an instant when he remembered why Fawaz might be calling him.

“Hello Fawaz! Did you find out?!” Zayaan asked, as he held his breadth.

“Yes Zayaan. I investigated the number plate you told me about. The car’s original owner had sold it to someone else. I dug into it further and…..it was your mom who bought it Zayaan. She then…. are you sure ready to hear this, Zayaan?” Fawaz asked as he sighed.

“Yes….I’d rather know…” Zayaan said with difficulty, with moisture forming in his eyes, realizing that there was no easy way to face the news.

“It’s exactly how you suspected, my friend. Your mom had given it to the criminal who was involved at the crime scene a week ago. And from the investigations of your accident couple years ago, we suspect that he is the same criminal who caused the accident. He used to be a well-known criminal back then. Your mom…..may have paid him to do it.”

Zayaan’s eyes blurred with tears as he heard Fawaz breaking it to him. Fawaz began to say ‘hello’ and asking him if he was okay when he became completely silent. He was unable to say a word as a lump formed in his throat and he disconnected the call as he put his hand down when he felt as though all his energy was drained from him.

He then began to sob as the heartache that took over his chest compelled him to. He cried his heart out as he got on to his knees, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was betrayed by his own mother. Other thoughts crossed his mind as he sat there crying. If she had done that to her own son, what could she have done to Saba?

Zayaan’s fists tightened as he thought about it. He was going to bring her to justice no matter what! His determination strengthened tenfold in that moment.

**

The next morning, Zayaan felt numb as he got ready to head out to work on his documentary on Nigerian festivals. He could not help but think about the news he had gotten the previous night about his mother. He was unable to pick up the phone when she’d called just as he woke up that morning and had texted saying that he was busy instead. He was busy, but he would have said it on the call if he hadn’t felt the heaviness in his heart towards his mother. He dearly wished his mother wouldn’t notice the distance he kept with the text and wouldn’t ask him about it any time soon.

Zayaan tried his best to stay away from the thoughts of his mother as he headed out of the hotel in a taxi with a tour guide. The tour guide assigned for Zayaan was a cheerful Muslim Nigerian young man named Waleed. Waleed talked to Zayaan about the different that take place in Nigeria especially in the State of Lagos at that time of the year.

“This area that I’m taking you to, is mostly a Muslim community. Eid al-Adh-haa is tomorrow. Would you like to document what they do to celebrate Eid?” Waleed asked.

“Of course!” Zayaan nodded with a smile and Waleed told the driver the direction to go.

The taxi stopped at a neighbourhood with small houses rather than the tall buildings in the city side. Zayaan got out of the taxi along with Waleed to see men, women and children busy decorating and passing food from one house to another.

“Would you look at that? This is the on-set of Eid celebrations around here. It begins with sharing breakfast with the neighbours and getting ready for slaughtering the animals. That’s going to happen sometime this afternoon. After slaughtering, all the neighbours are going to cook the meat together and share one big meal. That’s going to be quite a sight!” Waleed said as Zayaan began to take pictures and videos from the camera he brought.

He took pictures of the kids, the houses, the streets, the greetings, and the smiles as he listened to the details Waleed was giving him. He was completely lost in the scenery until he saw something strange as he walked down the street. There was a police van with a label ‘forensic investigation’ near one of the houses.

“There was a murder case in this house a few days ago and the police are still investigating the case. Sad for this family that they have to go through this during the Eid celebrations.” Waleed talked while Zayaan, as usual began to take pictures. He took pictures of the police van and the house and he paused to look at the pictures he took. Right at that moment, a woman in an abaya, hijab and a mask walked out of the house towards the van. Zayaan lifted his camera up to take a better picture of the Nigerian police van. Without much thought, he clicked the picture and there was a flash of light. For some unknown reason, his heart skipped a beat at that moment. He looked at the picture he took and saw a woman near the van, looking straight at his camera. He then moved his gaze to the front, while holding his breath as his heart began thumping against his chest.