He watched her from his bedroom window. This was the second time he would see her prowling the lawn at this time of the night in her overflowing lingerie, walking barefooted on the wet, dew-soaked grass, the wind billowing all over her, shooting arrows of silver through her well braided locks.
Fascinated at the way some runaway strands danced in the eerie moonlight, he leaned closer and studied her more intently. She had calculated footsteps that seemed almost ritualistic, and looking at her from this vantage point, she reminded him of a lost ghost prowling the walls of a haunted house searching for a way out.
He heaved a sigh. Once again, he would be far away from his wife and children, in a shit hole all in the name of service to his nation. The army was on a peace keeping mission in Kaduna and his platoon would be stuck in this village for almost a year. That was not a problem, but he was getting upset at the sight of a half naked woman dancing for three nights in a row now outside his hostel window.
She reminded him of a mother wolf, looking for a prey to feed to her cubs. She must live in the residential area close to barracks, the area where those women and girls who sold khunu came from. He knew most of them had husbands in the army too. He knew most of them were widows. He knew most of them were unmarried.
A scowl tainted his expression and he withdrew into his room and drew the blinds.
If he had stayed a second longer, he would have maybe seen the huge snake that slithered out of a cluster of shrubs and made its way towards the young lady. The lady squatted, her arms outstretched in welcome with a wan smile playing at the corner of her black lips.