ADBUCTED

Pretty-Miss-Why-Do-It-Yourself-When-You-Can-Pay-Someone-To-Do-It stretched out lazily on her big soft canopy bed with a loud, surprisingly lady-like yawn courtesy of many years of practice. She sat up reluctantly. She hated it when she got up this early, but today, she didn’t have much of a choice. She had places to go, people to see. The door opened and a girl in her late teens walked into the bedroom. Ibitoru occupied a suite in her father’s twelve-bedroom mansion in GRA Phase 3. She had her own expensively furnished sitting room complete with a bar for entertaining her guests. The adjoining bedroom was massive with her canopy bed covered with expensive red velvet bed sheets and six pillows with matching pillow cases. Two large teddy bears lay on the now scattered bed, Ibitoru’s favourite buddies – Gabe and Sammy. ‘Good Morning, Miss Davids.’ Her personal maid, Mary, greeted her. Ibitoru didn’t respond to her greeting but Mary was used to it. In the last eight months, over six maids had been hired and fired, but Mary had lasted a little over two months because she had the temperament to put up with Ibitoru’s snobbish attitude. ‘Is the heater on, Mary?’ ‘Yes, ma. I put it on earlier.’ Ibitoru loved the feel of the soft red rug which spanned the length of her bedroom on her bare feet. She strolled past the dressing table with its heart-shaped vanity mirror and wooden surface lined up with designer perfumes, creams and makeup. She paused before the walk-in closet with more clothes than she needed. She shivered slightly as she undressed as a result of the two Panasonic split units. She tossed her white negligee to one corner of the room. She selected the clothes she would be putting on after her bath and handed them over to Mary. She wrapped herself in the soft white towel Mary held up for her and crossed the room to the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom looked like something you would find in a seven-star hotel: a marble bath tub, large enough for two with a shower overhead and golden taps, an adjoining shower stall with glass doors and curtains, and a marble toilet and sink. About an hour later, she returned to her bedroom where Mary had laid out her underwear and the neatly ironed clothes she would be putting on for the day. She also noticed that Mary had straightened the bed, pulled aside the drapes and swept the bedroom. There was nothing out of place. It felt so good to have someone clean up after her. IB thought work of any kind was restricted to the commoners or peasants, as her father would say. Supervisory roles belonged to the wealthy, like her. Poverty should be made a criminal offence! She was the only child of a Kalabari High Chief, a former governor of the state, one time Minister of Finance and Deputy Senate President. Her father made things happen in Nigeria and he had more connections than the president. She was the apple of his eyes and spoilt rotten since birth. She had been taught that she didn’t have to do anything but people. Rather, there were people created for the sole purpose of serving her. All she had to exert her energy on was her studies. And at twenty-three, she had a first class Degree in Business Management and a Masters in Business Administration from Harvard Business School. With her extra-ordinary beauty and amazing figure which she had inherited from her maternal grandmother, IB had more suitors than she could handle. But she had class and she had her own demands. She had a long list of characteristics she wanted in a husband. 1. He had to be very wealthy. Wealthy enough to give her the kind of life she was used to. 2. He had to love her totally, completely, unconditionally and treat her like the princess she was. 3. He had to be exceptionally good looking with a physique to die for. She didn’t want ugly children. 4. He had to be strong enough to protect her and quick enough to defend her. 5. He had to be attentive to ALL her needs. 6. He had to be well educated with the minimum of a Masters Degree. 7. He must have impeccable manners. 8. He must make her his NUMBER 1 priority. 9. He must have self-discipline and self-control. Keep his zip up whenever she wasn’t around. 10. He must be able to stand up to his father. 11. He should be blind to ALL her faults, not that she had any. 12. He should have a will of his own, but where there was a conflict, his will SHOULD always prevail. 13. He should keep his family away from her if they were going to pose a problem. Her list went on and on. Her taste was highly placed, she would concede, but she was quite certain she would find a man who would meet all her requirements. Presently, she worked with her father in his company, IBITRONS LIMITED. She was very class-conscious and wouldn’t settle down with just any person. All her friends were either wealthy or had wealthy parents and had their own cars and expensive phones. She couldn’t abide anyone beneath her class. Her one-month leave officially began today but she had a few things to put together before her vacation in Sweden and Norway. IB loved travelling, seeing new places and with the money at her disposal, it was no problem at all. Besides, she had a new catch, Steve, who resided in Sweden. They had met during his father’s sixtieth birthday party in London a few weeks earlier and they had hit it off. He had invited IB to Stockholm and she had accepted the invitation. He was the first son of a wealthy entrepreneur who was friends with his father and the heir to his father’s billions. If he met all her requirements, she might be walking down the aisle real soon, IB thought as she sprayed her favourite perfume and rose from the seat before the dressing table. She took a few steps then turned to face the mirror that occupied an entire wall in the room. And she liked what she saw. A tall, dark-skinned young woman with a killer figure, full bust, slender waist and full hips. Her long legs were emphasised by her mini jean skirt and expensive sneakers. She tossed her long hair back as she admired herself. She was breathtakingly beautiful and knew it and took advantage of it. She batted her long lashes and laughed. ‘Baby, you are too much,’ she told herself. I'm starting a new story because your response to the other one is very disheartening. Anyway, what do you think of this one? Ibitoru is surely a spoiled brat. Will she meet a man who meets her requirements or will someone be able to tame her? snobbisness ‘Good morning, daddy,’ IB greeted her as she joined her father in the dining room. Chief Sotonye Davids was a thickly built man with an imposing height that could easily intimidate others. He was in his late fifties but still handsome enough to attract younger women. He took such great care of himself, travelling twice a year for routine medical checks and his money ensured that he looked years younger than he really was. Like his daughter, Sotonye used his good looks without apologies. However, where his daughter simply flirted with the young men without getting the least bit serious with them, Sotonye kept mistresses. His infidelity was no secret, but as long as he made fat allowances at her disposal and used protection for her, his wife, Ibitrokoemi Davids, didn’t care who her husband took to bed. She was his only wife and he didn’t bring them to the house, and so she was fine with it. Their marriage had a faulty foundation. Emi had married Sotonye because their parents were good friends and wanted a union between both families. Emi had been attracted to Sotonye but did not love him. Presently, after twenty-eight years of marriage, they were not in love, but they had an understanding. Although there was nothing IB could do about it, she at least had their love and they ensured that she had everything she wanted and needed. That was all that mattered to her. At least her father’s taste had changed from underaged girls to adults. No, she wouldn’t even think about it. She wouldn’t think about the incident that had occurred in the Government House, years earlier, when her father was Governor or her part in hiding the truth. It still haunted her every now and then, but most of the time, she liked to pretend it didn’t happen because the female involved was a little nobody. But her eyes, those blue eyes, haunted IB more than the act itself. Her silence had paid off. She had ended up studying in the United States and she could easily get any amount of money she sought from her father. ‘How are you, my dear?’ Sotonye enquired as his daughter took a seat opposite him. ‘Just great, dad,’ she replied. ‘Preparing for your vacation?’ ‘You bet,’ she stretched out a slender hand to select four slices of bread which she placed on her plate alongside the scrambled eyes and then poured out coffee into her mug. ‘I need to do a little shopping at the EXCLUSIVE.’ The Exclusive was a one-stop shop of international standards and had top designer wears for ladies and gents, provided professional hairstylists and makeovers for customers who enjoyed free snacks and coffee/tea. There were also sections that sold gym equipment, provisions, household goods etc. You haven’t shopped until you have been to the Exclusive. The only problem Ib had with this wonderful place was that just as it provided lots of things for the wealthy, it also had affordable things for those who weren’t wealthy. She figured it had to do with the nature of the man who owned the place. Dienye Daniel-Hart. He was a well-known philanthropist. However, you hate the idea of shopping with ‘poor’ people, but then you haven’t done any shopping unless you’ve been to THE EXCLUSIVE. ‘You don’t want to shop outside the country this time?’ ‘I intend to. But I need to pick up a few things.’ she said. She took a bite from her bread. ‘Don’t forget that we are expecting guests tonight, my dear. And you are to help your mother as a co-hostess.’ ‘Is there such a thing as a co-hostess?’ ‘If there isn’t, then I’m inventing it,’ Sotonye laughed. ‘I’ll be there in time. Besides, the evening gown and accessories I ordered will be available today.’ ‘Good. And be warned that there will be some young eligible bachelors present.” “I’ll be on my best behaviour.’ ‘You are 23, IB. You should be thinking of settling down. You haven’t introduced anyone to me since you broke up with Dagogo.’ ‘In good time, dad. For now, it is not a priority.’ Her ex-boyfriend Dagogo, the nephew of her father’s political godfather, as far as IB was concerned, did not deserve her. They had dated for ten months and he couldn’t keep his hands off other women because she was old-fashioned enough to want to wait until marriage to have s*x. And her three weeks in Scandinavia would give her a break from the multitude of people seeking her hand. ‘It’s not a priority!’ her father repeated. ‘What can be more important than that, at least to a single woman?’ ‘A lot of things, dad, but I’d rather not go into them.’ ‘Why not? I have introduced you to several wealthy and good-natured young men but you turned down their proposals. These are men with great potential.’ ‘But not the kind of man I seek. When I see the man who meets my requirements, I shall let you know. Until then, I am not interested in settling down. I am not going to settle for second best.’ ‘Your mother and I -’ ‘Married for the wrong reasons and that is why you can afford to tolerate each other’s infidelities.’ ‘Do not speak to me like that!’ Sotonye thundered. ‘If you say so, but I only speak the truth.’ ‘Keep it to yourself.’ ‘Of course. Until one of the women shows up and the civil war is re-enacted.’ ‘Quit this ridiculous line of conversation. You want money, then ask for it without digging your claws into a matter that is no business of yours.’ ‘I am a member of this family and so it concerns me.’ ‘It is not your business. So drop it!’ He gave her a look which would have intimidated someone else, but not his daughter. She met his look head on. She was too precious to let anyone talk about her. Not even her father. When IB stepped out, a man was leaning against her Nissan Jeep like he owned it. Her blood boiled instantly. ‘Take your filthy self out of my car,’ IB ordered. That upper part of his face was hidden beneath the baseball cap he wore but he was dressed up in a white shirt, over a faded pair of jeans and shoes that had seen better days. ‘Didn’t you hear me?’ Her car was parked in front of the ‘EVERYDAY EMPORIUM’ where she’d stopped to meet up with a friend. She had stepped out to find the man leaning so comfortably against her Infinity jeep. She hated it when people did that. It pissed her off. And to make matters worse, he didn’t move an inch. At that moment, it didn’t occur to her to draw the attention of the security. ‘Are you deaf or something? If you want a car to lean on,’ she continued rudely, ‘then you either buy yours or apply to be my driver, but never lean against my car.’ She tossed the provisions into the backseat of the car and drove off, stopping at the EXCLUSIVE. She was meeting up with her friend, Cynthia Owunari, to shop for a dress for the party she was going to co-host with her mother. The dinner was a success. IB dazzled her father’s guests with her beauty and charm. They couldn’t keep their eyes off her and she was a natural hostess. IB had booked an evening flight with Aerocontractors to Lagos where she would be boarding the Air France connecting flight to Sweden. She will be staying at the Eko Hotels and Suites, Victoria Island. Her flight to Sweden was fixed for the following evening and IB wasn’t taking any chances. She rose to her feet and staggered to the bathroom where she took her time to bathe. An hour and a half later, she drove down to EXCLUSIVE to pick up a few underclothes, made a dash to Kingfishers fast food at Olu Obasanjo Road to pick up some snacks for her little cousin before heading home. While in traffic, she went through the CD plates in her vehicle, selecting P-Sqaure’s ‘Get Squared.’ She slotted it into her CD player and immediately the car was filled with tunes from the rising stars. She couldn’t wait to see Steve again. He called her every morning and every night just to hear her voice. ‘Oh Steve!’ she groaned. P-Square’s ‘buzzy body’ was soon playing and she sang along with them. She loved that particular track. ‘Boy, you know, say if I give you body, body, you go soji, soj. You don't get fit running the MIC, you lose control…’ ‘I am not going to lose control.’ A male voice, certainly not from the track, came up and so close to her right ear.’ ‘Oh my God!’ IB gasped and almost lost control of the steering wheel. She quickly adjusted as she felt a warm breath against her skin. The hairs on her body stood upright. One look at the rear view mirror confirmed that it wasn’t her imagination. There was a man in her car! ‘Who are you?’ she demanded. ‘That is for me to know and for you to find out. Keep on driving.’ She felt something cold against her skin and she knew without instinctively telling what it was. She was now positively frightened. He gave her directions with the gun pressed against her side, the tinted glasses hiding his presence from watching eyes. He warned her against attracting attention to herself. ‘If you want the car, I’ll gladly step out and hand the keys over to you.’ She told him. ‘And you think I am stupid enough to play this game with you?’ ‘I swear I won’t make any false move. I’ll even pay you. I am -’ ‘I know very well who you are, Ibitoru Davids.’ ‘Then you know that I can pay you-’ ‘One more word from you and I shall end your miserable life.’ That shut her up and with it came the thought that this was an abduction. She had heard and read about the horrors kidnapped victims went through, especially women who were abused nonstop until the ransom was paid. She was mentally calculating her escape when he asked her to pull over somewhere between Isiokpo and Elele with no houses in view and only a few cars on the road. She pulled over and he immediately held a piece of cloth over her nose. Her last thought was ‘please let this not be a ritual killer.’ ‘Mission accomplished.’ Her abductor told himself as he transferred the young woman from the driver’s side to the boot of the vehicle. She deserved it, he told him to justify his actions. The drug he had used would keep her unconscious for a few hours, which would give him the opportunity to drive to his destination without any interruption. A car drove by just as he was climbing into the passenger seat but no one had seen him toss her into the boot. There was enough ventilation for her there, he thought. He put on his black suit over a light blue shirt and black trousers, looking very much like the owner of an expensive jeep. He replaced her particulars with his own just in case of a search by the police. Several minutes later, he took a side road and kept on driving. After several turns, he drove into the garage of a bungalow. He stepped out of the vehicle and locked the garage from the inside before rescuing the still unconscious young woman. For a slim woman, she was heavy, he thought, as he unlocked a side door and carried her into a semi- dark sitting room courtesy of the drawn drapes. He crossed the room and walked through a narrow passage. He pushed open a door, revealing a tiny bedroom. He deposited her on the bed in the room. She gave a little moan but did not wake up. He left the room and headed for the garage where he took out the car battery and hid it in one of the stacked cartons in the garage. He picked up her handbag and shopping articles and left them on the wooden centre table in the sitting room. He returned to the bedroom. A tiny room with an eight spring bed on a carpeted floor. He had worked in that room when he planned this abduction. He had read about her in the papers. A rich snub who hung around her popular father. A man he had every reason to hate. Her father had given her the best of everything and she had a stubborn streak that he would enjoy taming. She would attract a heavy ransom as the only daughter of a top politician. Her father would pay through his teeth to get her back. And he would have sleepless nights imagining the things he was doing to his little girl. The bed creaked as he sat on it looking at the unconscious woman. The ice princess felt she owned the world and therefore had the right to deal with others as she pleased. She was beautiful and intelligent, so full of herself. She was more beautiful than any woman had the right to be and she used it to her advantage. Vain and useless. Well, not a completely hopeless case. But she led the men on and then dumped them like a sack of potatoes. It was thus surprising that none of them had successfully planned her demise or taken her against her will. She had been back to the country only a few months and was already making waves as the ice princess. She treated others around her as though they had crawled out from underneath a rock and he was no exception. Buy his own car or apply to be her driver. He would teach her a lesson she would not forget in a hurry. Only then would she know of his intention towards her. He lifted her to a sitting position and slowly lifted her top over her flat stomach and up over her head, tossing the expensive material aside. Her tight mini skirt followed. Why would a woman choose to dress so provocatively beat him? He left her in her underclothes, certain that in her current state of undress, she wouldn’t entertain thoughts of leaving the building. He went through her hand bag, which contained the usual things you would find in a hand bag including a comb, makeup set, different shades of lipstick, body spray, perfume, pocket tissue. He found a Zenith Bank cheque book which he placed with her clothes, Zenith Bank and First Bank ATM Cards, an address book, a thick roll of money in her purse which he discovered on counting, was N73, 000.00. He also took out an iPad, a blackberry and a Samsung Galaxy note 7. He took out the sim cards and batteries so she wouldn’t be able to make a call even if she found the phones and iPad. After a thorough search, he also found an Airtel sim card in one of the inner pockets of the handbag which was big enough to fit in a baby. He left her in the bedroom and locked her in. IB woke up with a headache and stretched out on the bed. But instead of soft silk against her skin, she felt a starchy material like something you would find in a hospital. She bolted up. This was not her bedroom. This bed was small. Her teddy bears were missing. There was one pillow instead of six and the bedroom was smaller than her bathroom. Come to think of it, she was sweating. The air conditioners in her bedroom were always left on and when there was no light, the stand by generator came on. Her body was slick with sweat, something that hadn’t happened to her in years. And she was in her underwear. She never slept in her underwear. She climbed out of bed in the semi-dark room. Instead of a soft rug, she felt a cold carpet. If she had thought she was dreaming, there was no doubt now that she wasn’t. This was a real nightmare, no ordinary dream. Where was she? Why was she here? She wracked her brain, trying to figure out how she ended up in this place. She was supposed to be in a flight to Lagos this evening. She had left home quite early and made a few stops. She was driving back home, singing P-Square’s buzzy body when a male voice joined her, alerting her to the fact that she wasn’t alone in her car. He had held a gun to her neck and subsequently asked her to pull over. That was the last thing she remembered. She had been abducted. How he’d got into her car was a mystery. She had heard stories and read novels about heiresses being abducted and ransomed by men who couldn’t bear to work for a living, men who wanted quick and easy money. But never in her wildest imagination had she thought she would one day find herself a victim. Now she wished she hadn’t resisted her father’s attempts to get her a driver. She loved driving and that was now her undoing! It was dark and she guessed it was over 7pm. She had missed her flight to Lagos. Damn it. How dared he? Her abductor was going to pay dearly for what he had done to her! She moved slowly to the window, noting, to her annoyance, that it had a mosquito net as well as iron protectors. There was no way she could escape from the room. She tried the door and wasn’t surprised to find it locked. She had to get out of there! The room was like a cubicle and made her feel claustrophobic. She felt the walls with her hands and found a light switch. She flicked the switch but the lights didn’t come on. She made her way back to bed, surprised to find her handbag there. She reached for her phone, surprised that her abductor had been stupid enough to leave them there. None of the phones came on. She removed the back of each phone and found that there were no batteries. Her sim cards were also missing. So he wasn’t stupid after all. She searched further and found that her purse and cheque book were also missing from the bag. ‘Damn!’ ‘I have to leave this place,’ she thought and, almost immediately, she heard the key turn in the lock and the door open. A man stepped into the room with a lit lantern. Lantern in this millennium! The shadows from the light danced around his face, making it difficult for her to discern his features, but he was a few inches taller than she was. Suddenly aware of her state of undress, she quickly grabbed the wrapper on the bed and covered herself with it. ‘It’s too late. I have already seen the merchandise,’ he told her. ‘Where am I? Where are my clothes?’ she demanded. ‘In safe keeping,’ was his reply, and just then the lights came on. He blew out the flame from the lantern. With the lights on, she was able to appreciate his features and recognise him as the man who had been leaning against her car a few days earlier. He was fair skinned with wide-spaced blue eyes, which she suspected were contact lenses, a straight nose and full lips. His hair was curly, betraying his foreign ancestry. He was obviously of mixed race. His inscrutable expression annoyed IB, who demanded: ‘Why am I here?’ ‘You’ll know at the appropriate time. Now, come with me. I made an early meal for us.’ Early meal, ke. And he just expected her to follow him! ‘I have a flight to catch.’ ‘It left a few minutes ago.’ ‘No thanks to you. But mark my words, you’ll pay for it, you poverty-infested being.’ ‘And you are in no position to make threats, spoilt brat,’ he returned. ‘Now I want you out of this room before I am compelled to use force on you.’ ‘You are not a gentleman.’ ‘I never professed to be one.’ Her eyes gave him a once over, taking note of his black t-shirt and combat shorts. He was also barefooted. ‘I need my clothes.’ ‘You’ll have to make do with the wrapper. After all, it’s not like you’re going anywhere.’ ‘You can’t keep me here.’ He ignored her. She took a haughty position and walked past him, ensuring that there was no contact whatsoever with their bodies. He shut the door behind her and headed in the direction of the kitchen, which was just off the tiny sitting room. The sitting room was about a third of the size of her personal living room and furnished with old but neat cushioned chairs, (the kind she expected to find in the home of grandparents), a wooden table, a television so old it looked like it could only show pictures in black and white, the type that you hit twice before it started. There were no personal effects. No photographs to say anything about the owner of the house. The kitchen was so tiny it barely fit the two of them. It was furnished with a wall cabinet spanning the length of one wall, a cooking surface with two stoves and a sink. There was also a drum in the kitchen and she figured that it was filled with water. A tabletop fridge groaned like something about to die. ‘Why am I here?’ she asked for the second time. He ignored her, concentrating on the jellow rice inside the pot on one of the stoves. He deposited the pot on a wooden triangular pot stand. ‘Are you deaf or something?’ she continued rudely, her eyes scanning the room in search of something she could use as a weapon, most likely on his head. ‘Where are we?’ ‘Do I look stupid?’ ‘You don’t want to know the answer to that, but I’ll tell you anyway. You are stupid because only a fool will mess with the daughter of a man who can put his sorry self in jail and ensure that he stays there for life.’ ‘