It was obvious that these two men knew something about me (or Monica. I mean, I wasn’t about to disclose to them who I was after all the curiosity they had just spiked in me).
“Well,” started one the men. “This poor girl just so happens to be one of those gullible baby-mamas,” interrupted the other, before letting his fellow continue.
“No, bro! She is not gullible, she is just stupid! She lets her ‘lower head’ think for her. I think she is 18 or something,” he continued.
I could feel my face flush. I was angry. How was it possibly that people I hardly even knew could talk like that about me?
Cota P has the nerve to insinuate that I am 18... and even call me a ‘gullible baby-mama’? I thought angrily to myself.
“What is it that this girl has done exactly? And why do you guys say all those things about her?” I asked them trying really hard to be nonchalant so they couldn’t see how bad I flushed; to notice my anger...
One of the guys moved closer to me, put his hand on my shoulder, looked to the ground and said politely; “Ok, let me tell you the plain truth about who Tangeni is (or Cota P as you guys like to call him).”
Before he could continue, we got interrupted by my ringing phone. I ignored it. But it kept ringing, so I took it out to see whether or not it was an important call... it was Cota P!
I answered the call. Without any pleasantries, he blurted, “I don’t know where you are but I will be at your place in the next 10 minutes or so. It’s very important!” He was nervous about something. I could tell from the way he panted through the phone.
He hang up before I responded.
I was pretty curious about whatever these two guys were about to tell me but I couldn’t stay, especially not now. I needed to go home and I only had 10 minutes.
“I need to go,” I told them, studying their reaction intently.
They suddenly had unreadable expressions on their faces; shocked or surprised, I couldn’t tell and I cared less. I needed to go!
I rushed out and got into the first cab.
About 20 minutes after I had got home, I tried to reach him. I called him severally but only got his voicemail each time! Frustrated, I had no choice but to sit beside my phone and wait for him to call me back.
An hour later, there was a knock at the door. I rushed to open it, only to bump heads with a tall dark police officer.
“Hi, ma’am, I would like to speak to Monica.”