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Unveiled
Unveiled
Unveiled
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Unveiled

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FABS Magazine will hit newsstand in a few days. Editor, Mabel Danzo must overcome her fears and travel to Lagos for an interview with masked legendary singer Demuju. A chance meeting with the handsome, unassuming entrepreneur Sean Adeyemo, and the pair quickly became inseparable.

With time running out, Mabel enlist the help of her new friend Sean to help facilitate the interview with Demuju. Mabel is stunned; the elusive singer has always been within touching distance.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherLewis Atane
Release dateAug 26, 2014
ISBN9781310722554
Unveiled
Author

Lewis Atane

Founder gambling is not an option initiative, Filmmaker and author

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    Book preview

    Unveiled - Lewis Atane

    unveiled

    LEWIS ATANE

    Copyright 2013 by Lewis Atane

    Smashwords Edition

    Leat.fabiano@gmail.com

    Tel-2340108080281656

    DEDICATION

    This book is dedicated to the almighty GOD and to the memory of my late Dad

    John Omozuianfo Atane. [1947-1996]

    ACKNOWLEDGMENT

    I want to thank my mother, Mrs. Odion Atane, a rare gem among women. To my siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles and friends, I say a big thank you.

    I am thankful to Pastor Itua Aihevboloria and every member of Worldlight Christian Centre. Special thanks to Mrs. Mopelola Adeniyi, your input is highly appreciated.

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Lewis Atane is a Nigerian filmmaker. He has written and produced several short films and T.V series. He is a graduate of the Lagos State University.

    CHAPTER ONE

    Mabel Danzo drove through the dusty streets of Uzi Island. It was another chilly November day. Her old, gray Rover car; she inherited from her late parents had clearly seen better days.

    The terrible roads on this West African Island made driving one nightmarish experience. Most often, she preferred riding to her work place via the Island’s green painted public buses, but her three- year- old nephew, Dennis, would have none of it. He sat next to her, sucking his thumb. Rebellion outlined on his little squared shoulders. Dennis had kept to himself throughout the entire journey.

    Mabel pulled into his school driveway. Sweetheart, you have to run now, Mabel began, I’m running late for work.

    Dennis sat still, sucking his thumb. Mabel let the warmth of her love show through as a smile curled round her lips. She pulled his thumb out of his mouth, tilted up the downcast chin, and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.

    Dennis is a good boy, eya, eya oh, Mabel began to sing, hoping this would do the trick, putting the little man in a happy mood. She picked up his water bottle and bag from the back seat. Dennis is a good boy, eya, eya oh. She continued, opened her car door and walked over to the passenger’s side where he sat.  

    Be a good boy, okay. She cupped his chin in her palm. You want your classmates to make jest of you? 

    I don’t want to go to school. Dennis protested, pulling away from Mabel.

    I thought you told me you liked school? Mabel prompted. You told me you would love to be a doctor in the future.

    I want to be a doctor Momma, but I don’t like school. Mabel held a smile in check at the vehemence in the little man’s voice. Dennis only began schooling over a week ago.

    You can’t be a doctor, if you don’t go to school.                                            

    But Momma, please. Dennis pleaded.

    Mabel became overwhelmed with emotions whenever he called her Momma. Dennis was the closet relative she had, he was her nephew and adopted son. Only few people on the Island knew she wasn’t his biological mother.

    Who is a child’s mother? She reasoned. She had taken care of the little man since he was three months old. A flash of total recall brought back to life that traumatic moment. It had been three years since her younger sister, Eva, Dennis biological mother died, in that motor accident which also claimed the lives of her parents and Dennis’ father. It was the day of Dennis’ dedication in church, she remembered vividly. Everything had gone well. Everyone overjoyed. Her parents were happy they had lived long enough to hold their first grandchild in their hands. Mabel was happy for her sister.

    On the trip home, Mabel rode in another car with a family friend. Her papa, mama, Eva, her brother-in-law and Dennis, rode in the family car. It was a 25 minutes trip back home. The journey was smooth, until they approached a bend on the road. The car veered off the road while avoiding one of the various potholes, somersaulted a number of times before bursting into flames. Dennis was the only survivor.

    How she mustered the strength to pull through those periods, she still couldn’t fathom. Thinking now, she feels the innocent child her sister left behind was key in her survival. She couldn't stand watching Dennis suffer. He was her responsibility, her life and she must take care of him.

    Momma, can I go with you? Dennis repeated, recalling Mabel from her thoughts.

    You can’t go with me Honey. Mabel carried the little man in her arms, ignoring his protest and stepped towards the school gate. Tears strolled down his cheek. I will get you biscuits and chocolate when returning from work. Mabel assured as she wiped his face with a kerchief.

    Momma, will you be coming to pick me up from school today? Dennis asked.

    I should, Honey. Mabel began then paused. She knew this wasn’t a possibility. If I don’t make it, Nanny Gobe will come and pick you. She added.

    Nanny Gobe had been a part of the Danzo’s family for the past twenty years. She was a close confidant of Mabel’s late mother and her trusted hand. Mabel had retained her services after her parent’s death. She was more of a mother figure in her life and had been particularly helpful these past few weeks.  

    Juggling between her work place and Dennis school was not an easy task. Mabel was FABS magazine editor, a reputable and fast growing media organization ready to take the whole of West Africa by storm. Mabel workload had risen astronomically these past few months. She hardly had time for herself and the little man. She had traveled the length and breadth of the tiny Island, sourcing for contents for FABS. With doubting Thomas’s raising eyebrows when the mantle of editorship fell on her young shoulder, she was determined to proof them wrong. 

    As the gate flung open, she dropped the little man, kissed him on both cheeks, and watched him join his friends on the playground. They were excited to have Dennis with them. He had grown into a fine, likeable and brilliant lad. Mabel had not fared badly taking care of him and she will continue to be there for him.

    She stepped back to her car and yanked the door open. Thick smoke filled the air as she turned on the engine of her Rover. The vehicle had been in terrible shape lately, visiting the mechanics had become more of a daily ritual.

    Mabel moved the motor down a dirt road, which was more of a path than a drive. She was pleasantly surprised to see a few strange faces on the Island. The Island was not so large so everyone knew each other. Uzi Island with it wild life reserve was the perfect vacation destination for tourists. The peaceful and serene nature held a huge attraction for people over the West Africa sub region.

    Mabel applied the brake, as she exchanged pleasantries with some girls returning from the stream. The young women had on their heads huge pots of water of various sizes with wrappers tied over their breast lines. With the harsh weather and dusty roads leading to the streams, the young women’s feet dabbed in petroleum jelly appeared shinny and clean.

    She had admiration for these young women, some of whom are in her age bracket, despite their relative poor exposure and involvement in strenuous daily activities, they don’t miss any opportunity to look pretty. With a number of young, handsome, well-to-do tourists on the Island, the need to look good was of uppermost importance on every single girl’s subconscious mind.

    A few young women have had mother luck smile at them. They hit it off with a young rich tourist; quite a number have led to the altar. Mabel had not done much farm work, she could count the number of times she had been to either the farm or streams on a single palm. She belonged to the Uzi middle-class, whatever that meant. Her late dad was an academia, a senior lecturer in the university. Her only companions were her books. She had no time to socialize and mingle with other girls in the neighborhood. These have had an adverse effect on her as a young woman. She was introvert and didn’t have friends outside her work circle.

    The dirty path led into a major road, six lanes express. Mabel inched close to her work place. No traffic to fight in hours of boring commuting today, unusual for a Thursday, she reasoned. There was always heavy traffic buildup when the weekends approached, with an expected increase in the number of visitors. At the roundabout, a heavy-duty truck negotiated a turn. Mabel slammed the gas pedal, increasing the speed of her vehicle. In a split second, she had zoomed past the truck leaving huge trail of smoke behind. She glanced at the truck through her rear mirror and smiled at her unusual behavior.

    Ordinarily, Mabel was a patient driver. Most often, she would wait patiently as cars made the long turn. However, this morning, she was somewhat uncomfortable with this truck. She couldn’t put a finger on what it was that made her feel that way. It could be the reckless teenage sitting behind the wheels, she concluded. She wouldn’t want to be stuck, spending long hours in traffic.

    She pulled into the driveway of FAB Media and leaned back before switching off the engine. Hope you won’t be giving me any problems today. Mabel sighed as she took the key out of the ignition. A few more days and she will receive her paycheck. She would call her mechanic to come fix the problem. Mabel was broke; she had exhausted her monthly income before mid-month.

    A huge crowd gathered a few meters away from her office watching a local wrestling contest caught her attention. Uzi Island played host to the fiercest wrestling battles in the region. The biggest wrestlers on the continent gathered each year.

    Mabel climbed out of her car, standing to her five feet ten inches and straightened out her fitted gray suit. She loved her outfit; she always kept it simple but stylish, always pushing the buttons when it came to the issue of her personal styling. Mabel retrieved her brown leather handbag from the passenger’s side of the car, an exact match for her high heels.

    She walked towards FABS Media, a 12-story imposing edifice, situated at the heart of the Ibrahim Sosu way. Pushing her raven black hair away from her face, she glanced at the aluminum glass door and smiled. Straight nose with a high cheekbone, her slender waist curved into a slim rounded hip. Mabel did not need the reflection to tell her she looked beautiful. She stepped into her office; a wide smile flashed her cheek as she waved her colleagues; revealing her winking dimple. Ibrahim Sosu, her publisher had left a message on her answering machine for her to see him as soon as she arrived.

    Why the urgency? She thought for a moment. Her shoulders began to relax, her heart racing in a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Mr. Sosu must have been impressed with the quality of her work and decided to reward her with an improved package. Now was the time for that company car to ease off the stress, she reasoned. She wasn’t going to hold anything back, she would cue him in on all the challenges she had encountered in the course of putting this project together.

    At a huge black door, which had the inscription, Out of bounds to non- staff. She paused, took a deep breath before turning the door handle. Mabel stepped into the expansive office. Sosu was standing by the window, engrossed with the wrestling match bout downstairs.

    Good morning sir, She said. You asked to see me…. She broke off when Sosu lifted a hand, without looking at her and gestured to an empty chair in front of his desk.

    She moved to the chair, sat and threw a glance at the smiling face of Jackie Mutari on the front cover of FABS magazine. Her heart flooded with excitement. The journey had been draining, demanding her creative best. Mabel had put

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