Shakira at first thought she was dreaming, but she soon realized the cold hand on her forehead was real. She moaned, and when she saw the male face close to hers, stifled a scream and fumbled for the alarm button under her pillow.
“What do you want, Dele?” she exclaimed. “Get out of my room!”
He murmured, “Shh, calm down. I just want to talk.”
Her eyes were wide open now, and she saw his face well because she never switched off the lights to sleep. He still wore the outfit of the day before, a blue cotton tail shirt over blue jeans. It must still be night. She’d cried herself to sleep despite her effort to brainstorm the options open to her.
She snapped, “I don’t want to talk. Please leave.”
He stepped back as though stung. “I only want to help you. I have a conscience, you know. You asked me for help, and besides, this is my country. I ought to help you.”
He didn’t say it, but she heard loud and clear the insinuation of him getting help from her if he found himself in her country as well. But she couldn’t snub any offer of assistance.
She removed her hand from the button and sat up. “What do you want?”
“To help.”
“How?”
“Listen, I’m not sure Runo wants you to leave now, but she won’t force you to stay.” He ran his hand over his head “I don’t think you should go back. Your husband has started divorce proceedings and—”
She stifled the urge to use bad language. “Get out of my room if you have nothing to say.”
“Your phone is gone, the woman you came to catch is still wanted, and you don’t trust anyone around you. I understand how you feel. I have been there most of my life. And I have a plan.”
“Get to the point, Dele,” she said between gritted teeth.
“We raise an offering for your ticket back home.”
She flinched as though stung. “No.”
“How else will you leave? Runo will play delay games till you end up being here for another year or month. You want to leave as soon as tomorrow, right?” He paced. He had her attention, and much as she hated it, she listened.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You can use my phone to go on social media and send messages to your family and friends.”
He made sense, but could she trust him? From the beginning, he had done only the things he would benefit from. What had changed?
“What’s in this for you?”
Dele paced. “I will be doing something good for you, and it makes me feel so blessed to be there for you.”
She shut her eyes, thinking. Was there anything she would lose if she agreed to his plan? “But how will they send money to me? I mean, if I ask my family?”
“There are fast-cash services through the banks.” He shrugged. “You have to trust me to collect the money and give you—”
“No. No way.”
“I can discuss with Pastor Goodwill to—”
“No. We’re not taking money from the church again.” She rubbed her temples. “I can’t do it again.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “These are the only ways. Don’t you want to leave? You know my sisters; they don’t have money, or I could have asked them.”
She snickered. “Even if they had money they wouldn’t give it to you.”
“I have my ways, Shakira.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Just like now?”
“Come on, I’m trying to be a brother. A friend.”
She shook her head. “Please leave. I need to think about it. Besides, my passport is not here. Runo has to get it—”
“Your passport is with Runo. She got it with the divorce papers and our marriage certificate.”
She choked. “We don’t have a marriage certificate. And—she lied too?”
He shrugged. “If you ask her for it, she will give it to you.”
“How do you know?” she said. “Everyone lies. Who can I trust?”
He returned to her side. “You can trust me, Shakira. I know I haven’t earned it but give me a chance.”
She covered her face with one hand and waved him off. “Just go.”
“I know you may think I’m a con or something, but if there’s anything you’d do to repay me for helping you, it’s a photoshoot.”
Her hands dropped from her face. “A what?”
“Wedding photoshoot.”
She threw her pillow at him. “Get out!”