||ZAWADI||

I hate hawk eyes. They pry on their prey until the hawk gets its claws on it. Every time I make a move, I feel his eyes watching me. Studying my movements, my poise and expressions, keenly. With every minute that passes, I fight the urge to stare back at him. I know I can glare, but not for long as I would hope for. I don't have enough courage to accomplish that. Maybe just for a second or a few. That should be enough time to figure out what he's trying to see in me. Assuming that there is anything to see.

His constant prying nags me. It bothers me more than I care to admit. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. Men have stared at me while doing my job, but none of their glares felt powerful like his. It grips. Holding you down and keeping you from escaping. It also keeps you aware. Conscious of his presence. I dread that feeling, knowing that there is someone keeping track of me. Having my father on my back is enough to add another man. More so one who seems to have an agenda.

Just thinking of the possibility of him pursuing me like my father makes me feel fear crawling under my skin. Paralyzing fear. If he keeps watching me at that rate, I'll end up thinking him a predator calculating his moves to see how he'll get to pounce on his prey. It wouldn't be a surprise if that is the case. After all, we are in a club where all these sorts of things happen. Men are always on the hunt for ladies to complete their night. Though I pray and hope with the deepest part of my heart that he isn't a predator in hunting.

For a change of thoughts, I think of the best thing I can do to save myself from his uncomfortable glares. Ignore them and him entirely. It will not be easy but I'll try my best. Besides, it will only be for about an hour till my shift is over. After that, I will be free. I'll not have to worry about his constant glares. The possibility of him pursuing me too. I hope to never see him ever again. Such a dead wish. He is with Jason and Kes. Most likely, he is a friend of theirs and I should be expecting him occasionally if not frequently. Goodness, gracious. I hope I'm not going to be in more trouble with men. I'm tired. I've had enough.

A daring thought crossed my mind earlier. It would take me so much courage to accomplish it. It was to ask Kes about him. Who he is and why he keeps staring at me. Then I thought it better after holding an intra-personal meeting. It would be best if I just let it slide. After all, it is not my business to go asking about her male friends. She wouldn't even like it if I told her about it. She would approach the man and confront him. Which consequently would cause unnecessary bother. What's more, the man hasn't done anything major to prompt me into asking Kes about him. I'll just forget about him. Thinking about him is draining my mind already. It is making me feel tormented.

In truth though, every man drains my mind. I can't handle being near them for long. Well, except Jason. I've known him for a while and he looks like a good if not a great man. Otherwise, Kes wouldn't dare date him. I feel okay and comfortable around him. He doesn't make my skin feel like it's crawling with paranoia and fear. He's probably one of those rare species. Good for Kes. I only pray that they will last forever. That too, she never gets to experience the ugly side men can harbor. It would shatter her more than it has done me. I'm already used to it and she is not. To her, it would be a whole new thing. Torturing and traumatizing.

I'm walking toward the counter to get an order for a couple of young friends celebrating their graduation. I gathered that much from their chatter. Their conversation makes me think of my sister, Salima. I know she would love to study, graduate and chase her dreams. If only my father was father enough, he would consider taking her to college or university after she is done with high school. I have no idea what he plans to do with her. All I'm sure of is that his plans are not pretty as one would want them to be.

Probably, he is thinking of enrolling her in an institute for a single year to pursue a certificate in catering. He wouldn't care less about a diploma. It is even a miracle he allowed me to get one. A degree is much worse. He did the same with me. He said that catering was the only course that made sense to pursue for a woman who would soon be married. It would help in nurturing the kitchen wife in me. After all, when I get married, I'm supposed to be nothing but a housewife. Ome whose cooking skills will be highly needed. He keeps insisting that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

That if I want to have a good marriage, I should consider being a good wife in the kitchen. So pathetic. As if we women were born to be nothing but tools. Sometimes I think my father is still stuck in the past. I've no idea how he got stuck, but he lives there. Someone will need to slap him awake someday. So that he will realize that we are in the twenty-first century. And in this century, women are independent human beings. We can do anything we want without the help of a man. We only need freedom to be able to work towards our goals and dreams. Something that I, Salima and my mother lack in great quantity.

I'm praying that soon, I'll be able to get that man out of our lives. We need freedom. He has ruined almost everything for me and my mother. Salima still has a great life ahead of her. Provided I make sure that our father is not in it. I'll do my best to earn as much as I can. At least with the money, I can work on renting a house here in the city. An affordable house that can fit the three of us. Once I've got it, I'll stock it up with all the necessities I can afford. After that, I'll work on bringing my mom and Salima to the city. We shall settle and begin life a new.

It will not be easy but we shall give it our best. We have survived a lot to give up on our lives. Furthermore, I believe in the power of three women. We shall do everything we can to build up our lives. By the time our father thinks of finding us in this large and highly populated city, I believe we shall be standing stable on our feet. Then, he will not be able to bother us anymore. He will have to find another course for his life. We shall no longer have to live in fear and paranoia. We shall be happy. We shall even be able to communicate with each other freely too. Unlike today where we cant.

At least not when the man is still hell-bent on turning the world upside down to find me. Communicating with my mother and sister would put them at unnecessary risk. He would probably end up finding out that they know where I am. I hate to think what he would do to them after that. Hence, for safety purposes, we decided not to make calls to each other. Unless our father was as far as Capetown from Marsabit. That is the safest distance for them to take a risk of calling. They are also not supposed to ever reveal my new number to anyone. That would be a disaster loophole.

The man must have tried to call the old one. Unfortunately for him, he isn't going to ever reach me. Which is so good and a bit relaxing. You can never fully relax or let loose when you have a psychopath for a father. He is like an unpredictable disaster if not a ticking time bomb. You never know when he'll strike or explode. If option one doesn't favor them much, then perhaps they can consider calling through someone trustworthy. Well, assuming we do have one apart from Hussein, who we didn't count on before.

It hurts me to know that I have a family I can speak to but I can't. No matter how much I want to. They are off-limits. It somehow makes me feel no different from a person who doesn't have them. Courage and patience, Zawadi. It is not going to be forever. I want to believe that soon, we are going to get rid of him. I can't wait for that day to already arrive. It will be the happiest day of my life. I only need to be courageous and patient. Patience is a virtue that has to be learnt. From the life I have lived, I can say that I've already learnt and exercised it. Always if I might add.

I learned to wait without getting tired, frustrated or annoyed. To wait without losing hope too. They say that at the end of every dark tunnel, there is light. That light is what we cling on to with the hope that one day we shall live to see it. Anyway, despite all that, I am excited to know that they are at least fairing well. That's what I gathered from Salima's call. She said she was fine. She sounded fine. Like any other teenager living their normal life. But I tend to think it was because of Hussein. Her pillar. Her limelight too as she liked to refer to him when she was at the threshold of puberty.

He is the one person I know who can easily keep her from drowning in her solitude. She might not let it on but I know she feels lonely without her sister by her side. I feel lonely too. But life is what it is and we have to coup up. Sometimes I think of Hussein as her guardian angel sent from heaven to always watch over her. It comforts me to know that she is safe and protected. He will not let anything bad happen to her. Other times I can't help but feel paranoid, thinking he'll take advantage of her vulnerability. He is a grown man now. He has needs. Ones that he must look for ways to fulfil them. It comes off naturally and I can't blame it on him.

Although I hope he is different. He has to be. All men might be the same but there is always a rare species. The kind that outruns that whacked mentality. He has to be one of the rare species. For my strong but fragile sister, Salima. She said mom is also fine. I hope she isn't drowning in so much solitude. I hope she is staying strong too and hopeful. Seemingly, at this point, hope is the only thing left for me to hold on to. Without hope, I'm hopeless. A lost cause perhaps. So I can't afford to lose it. Not even by choice. That would be a crime.

I pass by the hawk's table. Jason, Kes and two of their friends, who seem to have joined them recently, are heartily laughing while listening to a drunk friend talk. A couple next to them is partly listening to the man talk while playing a card. The prying eyes watch me as I pass by. What does he want from or with me that he won't stop staring? It is so unsettling now. I ignore him to the best of my capability.

Admittedly, I envy them. They have been given a chance to be happy--genuinely happy--without having to worry about impending perils planned out in sequence by a blood relative. A father. A biological father. They are blessed if not lucky. Sometimes I wonder what complete happiness feels like. If only I can have a taste of that even if it's just for a minute. Perhaps I would be able to tell what it indeed feels like. But that is only a fairy tale dream until that man is out of our lives for good.

I place my last order on the graduates table. It's time! Time to get out of here. After serving them, I quickly head for the locker room. I feel exhausted but relieved. Those prying eyes are out of the picture. At least I do not need to feel paranoid or scared from their constant prying. In the locker room, I kick off my shoes first. Walking in six-inch heels for hours is not a joke. My legs feel sore and worn out. They'll need to be dipped in some warm water for while.

More ladies flock in and out of the changing rooms. Those done for the day like me, are working on making themselves pretty for a night or hurrying their way out and heading home. Those turning in for their shift are busy working on adjusting their clothes or makeup to look presentable. I shed off the work clothes and put on my casual outfits. They feel more comfortable. As they always do. I take my time taking off my makeup. It is no longer necessary. Once I'm done, I pack everything and get ready to leave through our safest exit, the back door.

Outside, I grab my phone and shove Kes a quick text telling her I'm headed home. She tells me to be careful and to enjoy my lone wolf weekend. I laugh at the text. She will not be coming home until Sunday evening. She will be spending the whole weekend at Jason's. Like she always does. Such great love she has for him. She once told me that she wasn't looking for love when she happened to bump into it. She had given up but when she saw him, she felt as if they belonged. I have no idea what that means. In my own terms, I translate it as kindred souls. That may have found they were running after similar things and matched up. But whatever happened, it happened for the goodness of their lives. I'm happy for them.

☆☆☆☆

The weekend was long and lonely. Without Kes around, I found time rather dragging in an exhausting manner. A certain poet  was not wrong when he once said, "Time is a weary old traveller impatiently ushering us along..." However, in the case of this weekend, I felt like I was the time, impatiently ushering the actual time along. It was really dragging and I felt so bored. All I wanted was for the hours to pass quickly by and a new week to arrive. Eventually, time passed by and the weekend is over. Now we are in a new week.

A week I initially looked forward to starting until the unexpected happened. Yesterday, Sunday morning, I received an email requesting me to see a senior persona. Perhaps a senior manager. I can't be sure who it is because it is not stated. Well, at least not specifically. Jason didn't think it necessary apparently. However, the good thing is that I'll meet up with him first before the mentioned boss. I'll be sure to ask him for a heads up about the meeting.

That will help me prepare myself mentally before going in there. I keep wondering what this boss wants to have summoned me. Ugh. I hate overthinking. It always makes me end up jumping to a million conclusions that are nowhere near helpful. They always end up making me sickeningly nervous. I need to keep a calm mind. Otherwise, everything will go wrong. I might even end up chickening out for thinking of the worst that could happen in the meeting. Being an overthinker is somewhat torturing. It sometimes can be the worst personality a person can have. That's because it can guarantee you mental disorientation if not a disorder.

☆☆☆☆

I'm standing outside the boss's door, taking in a breath or two. Trying to master some calmness if not courage. I talked to Jason a while earlier. He told me the boss is the owner of the club. He wants to see me and talk about some things Jason didn't think were necessary to fore mention. He also advised me to keep everything simple and clear. For the life of me, it sounded like a warning. As if I'm going to face something dangerous and need to be very careful with what I say. Truth be told, it has only made me more nervous. I'm a pinch away from becoming a nervous wreck. I take in a deep breath one more time and knock on the door. Whatever come may, I'll have to face it. I'm a grown woman after all.

The knock seems to go unheard. I wait a few seconds more before knocking again. This time a deep baritone calls me in. I check myself out for the nth time, open the door slowly and walk into the office. A sickeningly familiar draft sweeps over me. Immediately, I recognise the familiar presence which makes me halt. The atmosphere suddenly changes making my knees buckle. Seemingly, all strength I had remaining has faded and I'm nothing but a nervous wreck. It is the hawk. He is gloriously standing by the window. I hate myself for thinking that but he does look glorious. His hawk eyes are watching the busy city below. He likes watching things keenly and in stillness; a total watcher.

Along with the loss of strength is the high surge of adrenaline that courses through my body. My mind is silently racing, trying to come up with a reason why he called me here. I have even started thinking that he may have been displeased with my services. He watched me every time I did the serving. It won't be a surprise if that is the case maybe. But could it? I hope not. Goodness, he has my file open on his desk. A small passport of me staring at the ceiling. Filled in forms and sheets about myself. I included nothing about my background. The only things that it has about my family are that I have a sister and mother. No father. It was of no use to include the thorn of our lives on a clean spread of paper honouring him with the title of Father.

The hawk turns. His chiselled handsome face and burly body give him the privilege of a man who would think of himself as God's gift to women(that's what the likes of him mostly like to think). Terribly, I think that he is exactly that. He's very handsome just to emphasize. He stands tall at a height of about six foot two with a brown chocolate complexion. Probably women fall at his feet adoring him like a god. He steps walks away from the window to his desk while studying me. Keenly like last time. It makes me feel uncomfortable all over again. He should just stop it. When is he satisfied, he clears his throat, ushering me a sit by his hand. Slowly and carefully, I walk and take the seat across from his at the executive desk.