THE SERIAL MASK BY MORUFAT AJANI CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 THE SERIAL MASK BY MORUFAT AJANI

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

After their meal, Leila finishes dressing up while Badru is already seated in the living room, scrolling through his phone. He looks up at her and smiles faintly.

“You look good,” he compliments Leila.

Leila grins and ties her scarf tighter. “Thank you.” She says, excited that her lovely Badru is back.

As she grabs the car key, Badru looks at her with a teasing smirk. “Hope you know you’re the one driving today. I’m not fit.”

Leila chuckles. “Seriously?”

He shrugs. “I’m serious o. Or are you scared?”

Leila rolls her eyes, smiling. “Watch and learn, Mr. Badru.”

They leave the house together, enter the car, and start driving. The journey feels light. Leila is smiling too much. She still can’t believe how peaceful the morning has been. It almost feels like a dream. The opposite of what she expected.

Halfway through the journey, Badru’s phone rings. He picks it and talks for a few seconds with a serious look. Then he hangs up and exhales deeply.

“What’s wrong?” Leila asks, looking sideways.

Badru frowns. “Something just came up. One of my important customers wants to see me urgently. I might not be able to follow you again.”

“Ah,” Leila’s face drops. “But… we’ve already promised my mum.”

“I know. That’s why I’m pained. But it’s work. You know how things can be sometimes.”

Leila looks disappointed, “so should I turn back now so we can go together tomorrow. We can just call her that…”Badru interrupts her, touches her hand gently.

“Don’t worry, my love. Go and spend time with your mum. I’ll meet you there soon. Tell her I’m sorry personally, okay? I will be there though.”

Leila sighs. “Alright. I’ll tell her. So how will you get to the shop?”

“I’ll take Uber.” Badru says and Leila nods.

He steps out of the car, waves down a ride and leaves. Leila watches the Uber until it drives out of sight, then she starts the car again and continues her journey.

***

The moment Salmah sees Leila at her gate, she screams with joy. “Leila! My daughter! Subhanallah!”

Leila steps out, smiling wide. “Mummy!” she calls and rushes into her mother’s arms.

They hug tightly like they haven’t seen in years. Salmah k!sses her cheeks repeatedly and holds her face. “Are you really here? Leila, this is not a dream, right?”

Leila laughs. “It’s real o.”

“I’m sorry, my daughter. I miss you every day and I am glad to have you back in my arms.”

They hug again, longer this time.

Then they both go inside and sit on the couch. Leila leans back and begins to talk about Badru. She paints him in bright colours, his gentleness, the peace, how he even wanted to come and greet her mother. She hides all the dark sides, the past beatings and abuse.

Salmah listens, amazed.

“For him to even say he wants to come do the wedding properly, he’s a good man. I’m surprised… in a good way.”

Leila nods. “Exactly. I didn’t even expect it.”

“Many men, once a lady gets pregnant and moves in, that’s all. They won’t even look back or even think of wedding. But Badru, hmm… he’s a rare gem. I’m sorry for judging him wrongly before.”

Then Salmah looks down at Leila’s stomach with a bright smile. “So how’s the baby? Hope my grandchild is kicking well?”

The smile on Leila’s face fades slowly. She looks down, eyes welling with tears. “Mummy…I lost it. I lost the pregnancy.” she whispers.

Salmah’s mouth drops open. “What?! Leila…”

Leila blinks, a tear rolls down.

“Oh my God,” Salmah says, pulling her close. “Oh my daughter. I’m so sorry.”

They hug again, silently.

After a while, Salmah wipes her face and smiles softly. “Don’t worry, Leila. God knows why. You will conceive again. And this time, it will be safe, peaceful and joyful. Amen.”

“Amen,” Leila says quietly.

After many other talks, it comes to Leila's mind to ask her mother about Jazz. She wants to hear about it and know if truly her deduction about the fact that the problem in her life is due to Jazz and to justify what she wants to do to Hanan soon.

She clears her throat.

“—Mummy… jazz, does it really work?”

Salmah turns to her, confused at first. “What do you mean by jazz?”

“I mean Juju. You know… the spiritual thing some people do to scatter home. To take someone’s husband. To destroy love. That kind of jazz. Does it work?”

Salmah’s brows raise slightly out of surprise.

“Why do you ask? Hope nothing?” Leila quickly shakes her head and says,

“Hmm hmm. Nothing. I just saw it in the movie that I watched yesterday and I want to ask about it.”

Salmah sits up straight and rests her hand gently on Leila’s knee.

“Yes. Juju works. It works so much. May Allah protect us. It’s real, Leila.” Salmah says,

“Ehnehn.” Leila says as if she's surprised that Jazz actually works but deep in her mind she's confirming her hypothesis that what has been happening to her was as a result of Jazz that Hanan did. Salmah continues,

“I know some people say it doesn’t exist but it does. Even Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) was once afflicted by sihr. Jazz is called sihr in Arabic. A Jewish man named Labid ibn al-A’sam did it to him. The Prophet started forgetting things, mixing up events. Until Angel Jibril came to him and told him he’d been bewitched.”

Leila’s eyes widened in shock.

“What? Even the prophet of Allah was Jazzed?”

Salmah nods and says, “Yes. But you see, Leila, in Islam, it’s haram. Totally forbidden. It’s not something you joke with. The Prophet (pbuh) said in a hadith: ‘Avoid the seven destructive sins,’ and sihr was one of them. And Allah said in the Qur’an, ‘But the devils disbelieved, teaching men magic…’ That’s Surah Baqarah, verse 102.”

She pauses, lets out a quiet sigh.

“Though, the power itself is not independent; no magic works without the will of Allah. But it's still doesn't erase the fact that it real. That’s why we should always stay prayerful. Always. Do your morning and evening adhkar, read your Qur’an, pray your five daily salat. Because whether we like it or not, there are evil people in this world. But Allah is more powerful than all of them.”

Leila keeps her face calm. She nods again. But she’s no longer listening.

She’s agreeing with herself. She’s validating what she’s already decided to do.

Whether it's a sin or not, I will do it.

Hanan played me spiritually and I will reverse it to her too? I’ll do it too. And when I finish? I’ll pray. I’ll cry to Allah and seek His forgiveness.

He’s the Most Merciful. He will forgive me.

Her hands are folded on her lap. Her jaw is set. Her mother doesn’t even notice the shift in her daughter’s energy.

Later, while Salmah is in the kitchen preparing food, Leila’s phone rings. It’s Badru.

She picks it. “Hello?”

Badru’s voice is calm. “Hey, love. I just want to tell you I won’t be able to make it again. The appointment is taking time. Just tell your mum I’m sorry. We’ll go together next week.”

Leila is silent for a while, then nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll tell her.”

“Good. I hope you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah. I really missed her.”

“Spend the night there. You two have missed each other enough.”

Leila is surprised. “Really?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” she says with a shy smile.

As she hangs up, Salmah comes rushing from the kitchen. “Is that Badru? Let me greet him!”

Leila quickly dials back and puts it on speaker.

Salmah speaks gently. “Hello, Badru?”

“Good evening ma,” Badru says warmly.

“Ah, good evening..How are you, my son.” Salmah and Badru talk and Salmah apologises to him. Badru tells her he will be there next week and that he was supposed to be there today.

After the call, Leila sits back, looking so happy. This new Badru is giving her joy.

Then she decides to use the opportunity that her mother is cooking to go and visit the herbalist. The man's house is not far from Salmah's house at all.

Leila stands up from the couch and stretches, trying to wave off her restlessness.

“Mummy, I’m stepping out,” she says.

Salmah glances up at her and says. “Stepping out to where?”

“Nowhere far. I just want to walk around the area. It’s been long.”

Salmah nods slowly. “Okay. Don't stay too long.”

“I won’t.” Leila steps out and follows a narrow path beside her mother's house compound.

At the end of the path is an old dirty house with a short uncompleted fence, wild aloe vera growing by the house. The place smells like burnt herbs and burnt rats.

There’s a wooden board nailed to the wall. “HERBALIST — BABA PITU.”

Leila knocks at the door and a voice comes from inside that the person should come in.

An old man is sitting inside, shirtless, his chest full of strange marks. He’s grinding something inside a black mortar and chewing something that looks like a kola nut. He lifts his head slowly.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

“Good afternoon, my daughter. How may I help you?” The old man says, looking at Leila. Then he realizes who she is and says,

“Ah-ah. Are you not Alhaja Salmah’s daughter? The woman that stays in that compound with the green water tank?”

Leila doesn’t flinch, she's not surprised he recognizes her. Almost everybody around their neighborhood does because Leila was popular before she moved to Badru's house. She just nods. “Yes sir.”

She sits down like she’s not afraid of anything. She knows this man well. Everybody knows him. Though, she's never had any business with him before. She crosses her legs.

“I need your help, sir. Please help me sir.”

The man leans forward, watching her with interest.

“There’s a woman. Her name is Hanan. She’s my husband’s ex. But she’s not letting him rest. She’s chasing him up and down. She wants to snatch him back from me and destroy my home. I know she’s using jazz on him, sir. That girl is not clean. And I want to do something back. I want her to either run mad or get paralyzed. Anything that will make her life miserable so that she won't have any chance to ruin my home.”

The man squints his eyes, then his lips curve into a wicked smile.

“You came to the right place. That’s what I do. I don’t know anything else except evil spells and evil herbs. This girl? If it’s evil you want, I will give you. But for the work to hold well, you must bring three things: a dried dead rat, her picture, and five thousand naira.”

Leila smiles calmly. “I’ll give you fifty thousand, sir.”

The man jumps like someone who just received a Holy Ghost slap. “Haaaa! With fifty thousand?! I will scatter her life! I will do pass wetin you ask me. She go mad and forget herself. Even her shadow won't go near your husband again.”

Leila is smiling happily. She's so happy but she manages to keep her voice steady. “Sir, please. Can’t you find the dead rat yourself? I don't think I can go find it by myself.” She squeezes her face pitifully and the man chuckles.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get it. And don't even bother about any picture of her again. Just come back in two days’ time. I will give you one powder. All you need to do is go to her house or her working place, blow the powder either on her seat or at the entrance where she go pass immediately. That’s all. Once she touches the spot or inhales it, it’s over. The jazz no dey wastes time. Madness go land her immediately.”

Leila’s heart is doing a front flip. She's feeling like dancing and happy. She's feeling as if she should be dancing with joy. She just can't wait to witness Hanan's downfall.

She brings out her phone and says, “Give me your account number.”

The man calls it out slowly. She transfers the money right there and shows him the alert.

He checks his own phone. “It’s done. You try well. You will enjoy the result. Ha, my daughter. Thank you o.” The man says with a dirty smile.

Leila stands up with a small smile and says,

“Thank you, sir. I’ll come back in two days.”

She walks out of the compound quietly, her heart full of joy.