Chapter 7

The visit to Oviation corps took a long while as traffic in Lekki was congested and by the time I had squeezed my way out of it, it was already past seven in the evening.

The company's theme was centred specifically on the transport sector. We dealt in both air, land and sea transports and Oviation airlines had been since on set our largest procurer of capital, in second to Oviation ports, and then, our land buses for travels to all parts of Nigeria. Also, internationally, we produced the Ovia Magazines that focused on world wide news and entertainment. It was ranked as the largest printing press in Nigeria and in the whole of West Africa.

Truthfully, the wells of success we enjoyed now had always been as a result of my father's constant tenacity to never give up on his dreams. To be on the cover of Forbes magazine was a lifelong goal and just at half of a lifetime, Matthias Cross was already ranked as the 20th richest man in the world. The ingenious Lebanese, hard set with an ambitious goal to indent his markings in the world of business but like they say, everything did come with a price and obviously, we had paid it.

Those dreams had been accomplished but now they were being questioned, and as at this moment, we were fast looming towards rock bottom.

I sauntered through the double doors of the large building that had almost scraped the sky, heading straight for my father's office at the top floor.

The interiors were empty for the night and the occasional far away rumble and jolt of the elevator only added energy to the silence. Most of the lights in the building were off, excluding only a few floors where the security panels were held.

His office was well spaced, looking very old fashioned but at the same time, pleasantly attractive. A tall brown bookshelf was situated beside the entrance of the room with a few other cabinets as well. It was sophisticated in its own way, seeing as a long concave mahogany desk also stood at its middle with a wide-spread window behind, so that, if he craned his neck, he could see the sky.

Wire rimmed glasses coated his eyes and I could tell he currently sat with hardened features in concentration while working. Essential plans and changes that could either make us or break us were being forged by the pen in his hands as of now.

I stood for a while at the entrance, observing closely how the 60 year old man tried arduously to grasp onto his entire life's work as it so effortlessly slipped away.

"Are you just going to stand there?" He asked suddenly, and at the same time, I was surprised he had felt my presence.

Afterwards, he straightened up from his slouched position on his desk chair, eyes now facing and watching me intently.

I shook off the rush of emotion that had consumed me right away and regained my stance.

"No, actually I came to talk," I replied whilst entering the office fully and then, settling on the chair in front of his desk.

"Fine, what do you have to say, son?" he queried, preparing himself for the forthcoming conversation.

"I'll marry Rashid's daughter," I confirmed and my words hung in the air like fluctuating echoes, floating for a few more seconds like a puff of smoke. The silence returned implied that I was unheard but either way, I knew I was, clearly.

"What changed your mind?" My father asked after a while of studying me with eyes that had been lined from squinting in too many suns. For more balance, he rested forward on his desk using his hands as leverage.

"I guess I realized that my future wasn't worth throwing away for some insignificant Hausa girl," I responded, putting much emphasis on the fact that she was from a tribe that had unbending customs and practices. It was certainly a question I had to throw out there, though, maybe I had just wanted a way out...

He didn't take the bait but I wasn't going to let it slide.

"It's good that your epiphany on the right decision was on time before you made regrets," he concluded while forwarding a file, shuffling through as a means to say that the conversation was over.

"She's from a conservative tribe, she's even Muslim," I disclosed finally, bringing my sideline question forward but he just stared at me with lack of interest.

"And so?"

"Since when do you ever hear of other tribes or races marrying Hausa people or more specifically, inter-tribal unions are extremely rare not to speak of interracial. It's almost like a taboo and besides, we are Christians," I explained and he appeared to be a bit annoyed by the fuss I was making.

"Now you're talking like an ignorant stereotype," he rebuked and Instantly, I was taken aback, feeling somewhat abashed by his words.

"Not all Northerners hold that view, some understand and in turn, we will do the same. This doesn't stop you from getting married to whom and not to forget, there are laws in this country, freedom laws, it's not anyone's business," he clarified and I was certain that if it was due to normal circumstances and I brought home a woman from a clan other than ours—not to mention a whole ocean distance away, he would be the first to oppose. Now, he seemed to be the perpetrator of an obvious mismarriage because his dear business had found itself in the midst of it all.

I went silent for some moments, trying to find my own clarity and for the first time, looked at things from the perspective of the Daran's. It was uncanny that they would willingly give up their only daughter to a foreigner for the sake of partnership. Clearly there was more to it that met the eye but I had no worries, soon I would discover it all.

"I hired a private investigator."

"Why? I don't see anything that calls for something as serious as that," he questioned right after I had chipped in the fact.

"If I accept this proposal, the Daran's definitely would see this as a way of hooking their claws of control into us and without even knowing, we become their pawns," I explained, standing to express my point further.

"Father, we can't go into this blindly. We have to hold something against them in case of any necessity," I continued and when my message had sunk in clearly, he nodded in understanding.

"Hold on, what makes you think they don't have things against us either?" He asked and at once, our eyes locked in shared knowledge, seeing as we both knew there was a past that could destroy not only the company but our whole future too.

"Of course, Rashid isn't stupid and I won't be surprised either way, but what matters most is being one or two steps ahead always," I asserted, poking a finger at the hard wood of the desk in order to solidify my point and for a second, he paused in thought. A reply came next and I had felt relieved that he was on board.

"Prepare then, we are going to the Caliphates City."