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KWANA 24 BOOK COMPELET
Around six o'clock in the evening, a luxurious aircraft—a Qatar Airways flight—landed at the Croatia international airport, carrying high-net-worth individuals and elites from various countries.
Croatia is a country where those of us back home would look at it and swear that not a single poor person exists within its borders, owing to the stunning beauty of the city; every single corner is perfectly adorned. Furthermore, the fair skin of the citizens further illuminates the environment. In truth, Croatia does not often see black foreigners, as many of our wealthy elites have not yet enlightened themselves to visit this country either for leisure or business. Instead, they prefer frequenting London, America, Dubai, and above all, Saudi Arabia. This is partly because Croatia is incredibly distant from Nigeria; in fact, the Nigerians who arrived on this flight had to route through America before finally reaching this exceptionally beautiful and boundlessly wealthy nation.
Airport ground staff bustled about after the plane landed to ensure the doors were opened promptly for the travelers to disembark and go about their business. As people continued to stream off the aircraft, there was still no sign of a black person—only wealthy and powerful Westerners, along with their wives and children. Those who had come to receive them were filled with joy, embracing them in their customary manner of greeting.
Atika Saddam, Mannira Bala, and Axixa Adam Abdulfatah were the very first of their group to step forward and disembark from the plane. After they descended, the attendants handling their luggage followed them toward a sleek, glittering black luxury car that looked as though it had only just rolled off the factory assembly line today. They were met by two white men and one black man, the latter of whom was holding up a large sign that read: "Welcome to Croatia: Axixa, Mannira, Atika." He kept waving it high, indicating that he did not know them personally either, but knew that if they saw their names, they would realize they were the ones being received. Thus, upon spotting their names, the ladies headed directly toward them.
As they approached, Mr. Johnson welcomed them with immense joy and a bright smile. He extended his hand and, speaking in English, said, "Welcome." Atika Saddam was at the front, so she was the first to exchange greetings, after which she extended her hand to the other white man named Mr. Brown. She then stepped closer to the black man standing by the side named Ashraf, who appeared to be either their attendant or their driver. She offered him her hand, and he shook it while giving her a warm smile. Mannira followed suit, extending her hand to greet everyone. However, when it came to the last of them, Axixa, and Mr. Johnson extended his hand to her, she tightened her face, turned her head away, and hissed loudly. Then, in English, she snapped, "I didn't come to Croatia to socialize with its people, so leave me alone." She hissed loudly once more and walked past them straight toward the car. They all stood there, watching her as she walked away.
Atika smiled apologetically and said, "Please forgive her, that is just how her character is; she is very ill-tempered." Mr. Johnson smiled back and replied, "It's no trouble at all. She is a beautiful woman, so it's not a crime for her to act that way." They all burst into laughter.
Mannira chimed in, "Oh come on, how can you white people look at a black girl and call her beautiful?"
Mr. Johnson burst into laughter again and said, "You don't realize that there are beautiful black women whose beauty surpasses ours. In fact, Axixa has that exact skin tone that is highly prized and expensive here—the chocolate complexion. Coupled with beauty and wealth, it is only natural that she plays hard to get for men." As they continued their lighthearted banter, Ashraf opened the trunk and loaded their suitcases inside.
Mr. Johnson then told Ashraf to drive the other car so he and Mr. Brown could travel in it, while he would drive the ladies in this one. Once everyone was inside, they drove off, heading toward a massive, grand hotel situated right by the waterfront.
Allahu Akbar (God is Greatest)—God acts as He pleases, enriching whomever He wishes and elevating whomever He wills. Even while they were still in America, these ladies had placed a phone call to inform the hosts of their arrival date, their precise arrival time, and their specific demands. Consequently, before they even arrived, everything had been prepared for them; they were even asked beforehand what exact brand of luxury car they wished to use during their stay in the country, and it was provided.
Even after Croatia, they would not stop there. They would spend a single week here before a cruise ship arrived to transport them across various countries by sea. They would tour the world, visiting places like Atlanta, Malaysia, Italy, and all other nations with vast oceanic coastlines. These were true vacationers; Axixa and her friends had come for nothing but absolute leisure, embarking on a trip that would last for a full three months, having already spent two weeks in America before arriving here.
Within the next three days, they were also expecting the arrival of Mubarak, Ibrahim, and Sadik—their boyfriends—to make the vacation even more enjoyable. A minor issue had delayed the men, which was why they didn't travel together. Mubarak was Axixa's lover, and their affection ran incredibly deep. Ibrahim was paired with Mannira, while Sadik belonged to Atika Saddam.
My goodness! A heavy task requires an equally heavy tool. Every single one of these young men and women were the children of the absolute titans of our country; each was the child of a multi-millionaire who carried themselves with immense pride. For this reason, the child of a poor person wouldn't dare approach any of them for romance. They belonged to an exclusive elite circle, handling dollars and pounds exactly as they pleased.
Mubarak, Ibrahim, and Sadik were all close friends who attended the same schools since secondary education. They completed their secondary schooling in Togo and went to university in America, graduating three years prior. The ladies, on the other hand, studied in London. Axixa did her primary and secondary education there, while Atika and Mannira completed theirs in Lagos before joining Axixa in London to attend the University of Manchester, where they recently graduated. In fact, this lavish vacation they were enjoying was to celebrate the completion of their studies, having graduated barely a month ago.
Furthermore, their fathers were close associates, particularly Axixa's father and Mubarak's father, who were intimate, lifelong friends. They were the political heirs apparent; as the current administration completed its term with only one year left before the next general elections, Axixa's father, Alhaji Ahmad Abdul Fati, was running for the presidency, while Mubarak's father, Alhaji Isa El-Yaqub, was his vice-presidential running mate. Thus, Nigeria was about to become theirs—or rather, it already practically belonged to them. Additionally, the daughter of the incoming presidential candidate and the son of his running mate were deeply in love and planning their wedding as soon as the political season concluded.
By all indications, Alhaji Ahmad Abdul Fati was poised to sweep the election due to how deeply the common people adored him—Muslims and Christians, Hausas, Yorubas, and Igbos alike all loved him because he was an honorable, deeply religious, and empathetic man who possessed great integrity. Their other friends—Alhaji Saddam (Atika's father), Alhaji Bala, and Alhaji Adamu (Sadik's father)—were all rallying behind them, funding and orchestrating political maneuvers to ensure victory in the upcoming election. They knew that if Alhaji Ahmad Abdul Fati and Alhaji Isa El-Yaqub secured power, it meant they had all secured power, as prominent ministerial and high-ranking state positions would naturally be distributed among them.
The morning after their arrival in Croatia, early in the day, Axixa and her friends were on exercise bikes, working up a sweat, when Mr. Johnson arrived and greeted them. They all responded politely, and Ashraf greeted them as well.
Mr. Johnson said, "I came to inform you that the ship is expected to arrive tonight. However, unfortunately, it is a smaller vessel that accommodates only twelve passengers. The larger ship ran into some technical hitches, and they haven't even finished touring Italy and the surrounding countries yet, let alone turning back. So, what do you think? Should we wait for your partners to arrive and then travel together on the smaller ship? Or should we find additional travelers to fill the remaining slots so you form a group of twelve and set sail on the smaller vessel?"
Axixa stood up, placed her hands on her hips, and snapped, "Mister, you are annoying us with too much talk! Do we look like people who would board a crowded ship, or do we look like people who cannot afford to charter an entire twelve-passenger ship for ourselves?"
Mr. Johnson smiled apologetically and said, "Forgive me, Excellency Axixa. I only asked to understand your preferences."
She replied, "Well, now you know. Let the ship arrive and wait for us; the people we are expecting will arrive the day after tomorrow. I want you to calculate the total cost, secure the charter, and leave."
With visibly trembling hands, Mr. Johnson hurriedly took the paperwork from Ashraf and began making notes and calculations. Once finished, he placed the invoice on a small table set before them, right next to the cups of juice they were sipping to refresh themselves after their exhausting workout. He smiled and said, "Very well, I shall leave you in peace until I hear from you or you hear from me." Atika and Mannira waved at him, saying goodbye.
Once they stepped out into the courtyard of the grand hotel, Ashraf bowed his head and said to Mr. Johnson, "My boss, I am terrified of embarking on this journey if you say I am the one who will serve on the ship with these girls."
Mr. Johnson asked, "Terrified of what, Ashraf?"
Ashraf sighed deeply and said, "I am terrified of Axixa. I see how she treats even you, my boss—the owner of the ship—let alone me, a mere crew member. I feel like she might slap me. Just now, when I greeted her, she didn't even acknowledge me."
Mr. Johnson laughed and patted Ashraf on the shoulder, saying, "Even if she insults you or slaps you, just smile and say thank you. It is because she has immense wealth, and it is her wealth that we want."
Ashraf fell silent, lost in thought. He said to himself, Truly, these white people have no self-respect, let alone respect for their religion. To tolerate such humiliation all for the sake of money? May Allah protect me and provide me with an honorable livelihood to feed my parents so I can leave this degrading job.
Suddenly, he felt Mr. Johnson shaking him vigorously, snapping him out of his deep trance. Mr. Johnson said, "Ashraf, stop troubling yourself over this girl, Axixa. Do you know what she craves? Egotism and extreme reverence. If you constantly pamper her ego, respect her excessively, and behave as though you are ready to kneel before her, you will see that you will get along perfectly and part ways in peace. Look, it is precisely because of your competence, intelligence, calmness, and respectful nature that I chose you to accompany me on this voyage; I know you can handle Axixa." In this manner, Mr. Johnson continued to soothe Ashraf, instructing him on the psychological strategies to survive working around Axixa.
They arrived at where their car was parked and got inside, with Ashraf driving them out of the hotel premises. Ashraf spent the entire day consumed by anxious thoughts regarding the humiliation he might face from Axixa during the upcoming voyage. There was nothing Ashraf detested more in this world than degradation; he loathed being involved in anything that compromised his dignity, let alone enduring it from Axixa, a girl young enough to be his younger sister. On top of that, she possessed a vicious streak for insulting people, judging by her behavior.
He sighed deeply and prayed internally, O Allah, I commit myself to You. If there is no blessing in this journey, O Allah, cause it to be canceled for me, and let them take someone else while I remain on the larger ship. Even though the larger ship carries more passengers and entails heavier labor, the travelers there are friendly; they respect my dignity and give me generous tips. Even though they know I am serving them and being paid for it, they still show compassion because they know I am a human being, not a slave. It is shocking that my fellow black compatriots, instead of embracing me, treat me with disdain. At least Atika and Mannira seem decent—it is only Axixa.
Well, Allah is greater than her. Thus, Ashraf spent his days and nights engulfed in deep reflection and prayers, desperately wanting to avoid any confrontation that would lead to Axixa stripping him of his dignity.
Days rolled into weeks, and Axixa and her friends had now spent four days in Croatia. They barely spent time at the hotel, returning only to sleep. A private chauffeur provided by the hotel drove them around various tourist destinations within the city of Croatia and its outskirts.
Today, Mr. Johnson and Ashraf received a call confirming that Mubarak and his friends had landed. They went to receive them at the airport. Mubarak and the others arrived around five in the afternoon, and Ashraf drove them directly from the airport to the hotel where the ladies were staying. Unfortunately, they found that Axixa and her friends had been out since morning. Without wasting time, the young men requested rooms close to those of their girlfriends, which was arranged for them immediately. Around ten o'clock at night, Axixa and her group returned and found their lovers waiting, sparking an explosion of joy and celebration.
Two days after Mubarak and his group arrived, they spoke to Mr. Johnson, indicating they were ready to set sail. On the first day of February, around twelve o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Johnson dispatched Ashraf along with two other drivers, each handling a car—making three vehicles in total—to pick up Axixa, her friends, and their luggage, and transport them to the harbor for departure today. Ashraf led the way because he knew the layout of the hotel suites better than the other drivers.
He stood before the door and pressed the doorbell. Hearing silence, he stepped closer and rang it again until he heard someone approaching to open it. It was Axixa Ahmad Abdul Fati. She stood there with a furious scowl on her face. Ashraf’s heart began to beat frantically out of anxiety. He bowed and greeted her in a trembling voice, but she did not respond. The other drivers greeted her as well, but she maintained a cold silence.
Ashraf faltered, "We requested that the reception call your room, and they mentioned you were packed and ready to head to the harbor. The ship is docked and waiting for you."
Axixa, with absolute arrogance and malice, snapped, "Just because they called from the reception and I said you should come up, gives you the right to aggressively ring my doorbell as if I wouldn't open it unless you forced your way in to drag me out? I didn't realize you were an absolute beast until you decided to display your animalistic behavior to me!"
Ashraf’s heart turned pitch-black with grief, and his anxiety peaked. He thought to himself, This girl! Even if I pluck out my own soul and lay it before her out of sheer humility, she will still insult me. It has reached the point where she strips me of my human dignity and categorizes me among beasts?
Axixa stormed back inside, leaving Atika to step forward and say, "Come in and pack these suitcases out." Ashraf and his fellow drivers, Alex and Solomon, lifted the heavy suitcases and turned to leave.
Mannira added, "Once you load these, go to the adjacent room and pack Mubarak and his friends' luggage, then wait for us downstairs; we are on our way out." Respectfully and in soft voices, they replied, "Yes, Your Ladyship," and exited.
Atika turned and looked at Axixa, who was sitting before the vanity mirror applying her makeup, and said, "Axixa, you always do exactly as you please, but that one word you hurled at that young man, Ashraf, really crossed the line. Calling him a beast was uncalled for."
Mannira quickly jumped into the conversation, adding, "My goodness, it was obvious from his face that the word cut him deeply. Axixa, you should learn to ease up on him a little; he seems quite sensible and well-behaved. Judging by his name, Ashraf, he even sounds like a fellow Muslim."
Axixa whirled around furiously and barked, "Oh, so because I called him a beast, you two feel bad for him? And you think he felt bad judging by his face, right? Well, he might as well drop dead, because from this day onward, I will never call him by his actual name again—whether it's Ashraf or whatever! I shall address him strictly as 'Beast' until the day he dies. And as for you two who are wallowing in secondhand misery for him, you can go ahead and faint!"
Atika and Mannira burst into laughter, clapping their hands, and exclaimed, "That's our Axxie Best for you! You are truly something else!" After they finished packing their personal items, they emerged and headed toward the vehicles.
Axixa and Mubarak seated themselves comfortably in the back of the car driven by Ashraf. Atika and her partner, Sadik, reclined in the back of the vehicle driven by Solomon. Mannira and her lover, Ibrahim, boarded Alex’s car, and they all made their way to the harbor.
By exactly two o'clock, Mr. Johnson, the ship's captains, three chefs, and Ashraf had finished loading all the provisions required to last them comfortably for the entire multi-month duration of the voyage. They were accompanied by expert medical doctors equipped with emergency medical kits in case of any sudden illness. Ashraf did not forget to bring along his specialized fishing nets because, in addition to his cleaning and sweeping duties, his job included catching fresh fish from the sea to be prepared for the travelers.
With marine engineers on board to handle maintenance and the captains ready, the cruise ship set sail. These wealthy young men and women had chartered the entire vessel exclusively; not a single outsider was permitted on board—it was just them and their service crew. They left Croatia behind and charted their course into the open sea.
FEBRUARY 1st
The ship spun its massive propellers through the water, generating tremendous power and maintaining a high speed across the ocean. Just like the magnificent vessels seen in Western movies or on satellite television, this cruise ship was larger than most conventional mansions; comparing its scale to an ordinary house wouldn't do it justice—it was akin to a grand, expansive estate.
Even though this was considered one of their smaller vessels and not a mega-liner designed for hundreds of passengers, it still featured six luxurious guest cabins. Below the passenger deck lay Mr. Johnson's cabin, which he shared with the captains and crew, alongside the quarters for the two doctors. Ashraf shared his cabin with the three chefs near the kitchen area, while Mr. Johnson's quarters were located close to the bridge/steering room. Every single cabin was fully self-contained, featuring its own private bathroom, comfortable beds, and all the luxury amenities expected in a high-end suite.
The ship boasted a massive lounge equipped with state-of-the-art entertainment systems, plush sofas, and thick, soft carpets. The dining room was equally distinct, positioned elegantly between the main lounge and the kitchen. Stepping inside the vessel felt exactly like being inside a beautifully designed, luxury modern home.
Climbing to the upper deck revealed a vast, open-air recreational plaza fitted with various lounging chairs. This was the prime location to behold the endless ocean, as the area was completely open, secured only by sturdy steel guardrails lining the perimeter. Here, one could inhale the crisp, cool sea breeze and the refreshing scent of the open water.
Despite this immense layout spanning multiple levels, the ship's features did not end there. Deep within the lower hull of the vessel, there was a mechanical transport system that could lower passengers down to the water's level. For instance, if they wished to swim directly in the ocean, there was a large, enclosed marine swimming area.
Additionally, this lower section housed several small inflatable speedboats. These boats were kept deflated but were equipped with high-powered gas engines; if the travelers wished to scout the surrounding waters, cruise around the main ship, or if they spotted an exotic island or coastal town along their route and wanted to disembark to explore the local culture and scenery, these small boats were deployed. They were exceptionally fast; even if the passengers tracked an attraction at a coastal town and lagged behind the main cruise ship by an hour, these agile speedboats could easily close the gap and catch up to the main vessel in a very short time. The main cruise ship itself never docked unless it reached a country with a designated international harbor where the passengers explicitly requested a layover.
Axixa and her friends had been at sea for about two hours since the voyage commenced, and they were all gathered in the grand lounge watching television. Axixa pressed the service bell to summon an attendant, indicating she required something.
Ashraf hurried in with an air of humility mixed with lingering anxiety, bowing as he said, "I am at your service."
Axixa puckered her face in disgust and snapped, "Is there no human being available besides you?"
Ashraf, failing to grasp the hidden malice in her words, replied smoothly, "Well, I am the one designated to handle your errands and bring you whatever you require. The others are stationed in the kitchen preparing the meals, while I ensure everything is delivered directly to you."
Axixa glared at him and said, "What I mean is, I called for a human being, not a dog." Ashraf lowered his head, completely at a loss for words.
Everyone in the lounge turned their eyes toward Axixa, staring in silence. It was evident that not a single person was pleased with how she treated Ashraf. However, because of her volatile temper, nobody dared challenge her authority, so they all remained silent, merely observing the scene.
She paused, took a sip of her juice, and continued, "Well, since you are the only one available, Guldo—which is a dog's name—listen carefully. Guldo, I want a well-grilled whole fish, thoroughly cleaned with minimal bones. Slit the center, stuff it generously with onions, tomatoes, and hot spices, and grill it whole. Bring it to me, and do not take a minute longer than twenty-four minutes."
Ashraf turned around to leave, but suddenly heard her whistling behind him—the exact whistling sound used to call a stray dog. Ashraf refused to turn back, prompting her to bark at him furiously, "Hey! Are you deaf? Don't you know I am calling you?!"
Ashraf whirled around, his face flushed with raw anger, and countered firmly, "My name is Ashraf! I only heard the call used for a dog, which is why I did not turn back!"
The moment the words left Ashraf's mouth, Mr. Johnson materialized right in front of him. His expression was pitch-black, looking as though he had just been confronted by the angel of death. Forgetting all his usual jovial and accommodating demeanor, Mr. Johnson barked furiously at Ashraf, commanding him to get out of his sight immediately.
Ashraf exited the lounge, his heart burning with intense humiliation and grief. He marched straight into the kitchen in a state of absolute fury. The chefs instantly noticed that Ashraf was in an incredibly foul mood. Sensing the deep anger radiating from him, they began questioning him, asking, "What happened? Was it that problematic lady of yours again?" After all, everyone on board knew how much Ashraf dreaded facing Axixa's insults on this trip.
Ashraf hissed, "That black devil wants you to grill a fish for her."
Moving swiftly, the chefs opened the freezer, pulled out the exact type of fish he described, and began prepping it. As they cleaned the fish, they continued to probe, asking, "What did she do to you this time to make you so furious?"
Ashraf muttered darkly, "I have never taken a human life before, but I believe I shall start with that archenemy of mine. If I kill her, they can go ahead and execute me too."
One of the chefs quickly cut him off, counseling, "Shh! Quiet down and stop talking like that, my friend. It is just the anger talking, but you know you could never actually kill her. Everything is temporary; in a matter of weeks or months, this voyage will end, and you will part ways, perhaps never to see each other again. Besides, she is a black woman and so are you; if you look at history, you might even be from the same roots."
Ashraf countered, "She is from Nigeria and I am from Jamaica! We have absolutely nothing in common!"
The words had barely left his mouth when Mr. Johnson kicked the kitchen door open and stormed in. He snapped, "I wonder what kind of curse I am dealing with that keeps me from firing you on the spot!" He proceeded to rain a relentless barrage of scolding upon Ashraf, shouting at him as if he were about to swallow him whole. Ashraf merely lowered his gaze to the floor, silently enduring the reprimand.
Mr. Johnson continued fiercely, "So you haven't taken a single piece of advice I gave you, have you?! Let me tell you, over this girl Axixa, you could easily lose your livelihood. So watch your step!"
With utmost humility, Ashraf replied, "I shall be careful, my boss. Please forgive me, it will never happen again."
The following morning at the crack of dawn, Ashraf gathered his fishing nets, lowered himself toward the water line, and began working tirelessly to catch fresh fish. After a long struggle, he hauled himself back up onto the deck, carrying a massive haul of fresh fish slung over his shoulder in his nets...
