The girl knew well how to use her charm when it came to persuasion. Offering her beauty was nothing unusual if it could help her achieve a secret goal. She made her promise sincerely, and the healer couldn't refuse; he understood what she meant. What she had promised would surely come true in due time. Without hesitation, he agreed, and they parted calmly, each certain of what would follow.
The girls then returned to school, leaving him tending to his patients, restless with a strong longing to indulge in earthly pleasures. He didn't care that she was a student—nor that the law punished such affairs severely.
Rajabu's mind had been troubled ever since that night he had forced himself upon her and later left her on the road. Since then, he hadn't called or sent even a single message. The girl was puzzled. She believed Rajabu truly loved her and would never ignore her. That belief made her proud and careless, certain she could control him as she pleased.
Love, like a nation, needs opposition; without it, power sleeps and grows reckless. So it was with the girl. Once gentle, she turned defiant, treating the young man carelessly though he had always shown her affection. She didn't realize that when you block one way, the heart often finds another to escape.
She began to feel powerful, thinking herself a jewel Rajabu would beg for again. If she refused him, she thought, he would only grumble—until her mood returned and she gave in to his affection again. Then everything would be fine: he would forgive, buy her little gifts, and the passion would reignite.
It became a sort of game to her—teasing him, withholding affection, and ending moments of closeness abruptly, claiming she'd had enough. His frustration amused her. She imagined that one day he would come back, overwhelmed with desire, and they would settle everything between them.
That day finally came—she wanted Rajabu. She called him, telling him to prepare, that she would come that night and stay till morning. She didn't know that his desire for her had long faded; someone else had already taken her place.
Her call went unanswered. She tried again and again, sent a message—nothing. If the phone had been off, she might have assumed the battery was dead. But no—he simply didn't respond, and that silence hurt more than any insult.
Fatuma, Rajabu's younger sister, noticed her distress. Seeing the girl sitting outside the salon in silence, she went to check on her.
"Hey, sister, what's wrong? You've been quiet ever since you stepped out."
Tears welled in the girl's eyes. "Your brother doesn't talk to me anymore. Even my texts—he answers them so late, like at night when I've already slept."
Fatuma frowned. "That's strange. I thought it was just his usual mood, but if it's gotten this bad—"
"I don't understand him these days. He can't even answer my calls!"
"Calm down first," Fatuma said gently. "Don't jump to conclusions. Go check at his spot; maybe he's there. Go now while you still have time."
At that same hour, the man they were talking about was locked in another embrace, lost in pleasure with a younger girl. He had forgotten all his worries, giving in to the warmth and excitement of the moment.
Hanifa lay across his chest, her head resting near his neck. Her tender breath and whispered words made his body tremble, drawing him deeper into the moment. Time itself seemed to vanish; the outside world no longer existed.
It was then that Semeni's call came—but Rajabu was too far gone to notice. Hanifa, watching the phone flash repeatedly, smiled slyly. She wanted him to forget the other girl completely, to think of her as the only one worth keeping.
She remembered the little treats he used to buy her—plates of chips shared in secret—and the pocket money she'd spend proudly at home. She dreamed of living like a grown woman, free of school, enjoying life without limits. But dreams only stretch as far as one's rope; hers ended there.
When it was over, Rajabu finally looked at his phone and saw the missed calls. Hanifa noticed too and grew quiet, jealousy stirring in her heart.
"So your other girl is coming tonight?" she asked sharply, unable to hide her irritation.
"Yes," Rajabu replied simply. "She's been calling a lot, but I'll handle it. Don't worry." He pocketed the phone, pulled her close, and kissed her neck playfully
.
"Stop, you'll make me late!" Hanifa laughed nervously. "I sneaked out; my schoolbag's still in class. What if someone steals it?"
Rajabu chuckled, said nothing more, and escorted her outside. Before she left, he slipped a few notes into her hand for transport, then rode off on his motorbike to resume his usual hustle at the roadside stand.