Cub: Chapter 8

Kayode sat in the waiting room of the police station, his wrists bound by handcuffs that dug into his skin. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension and the low murmur of other detainees awaiting their fate. An officer stood nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the prisoners.

Kayode’s thoughts were a storm of regret and anguish. The events of the night played over and over in his mind, each time more painful than the last. He couldn’t escape the image of Musa’s lifeless body, the blood that stained his hands, or the soul-crushing realization that he had crossed a line from which there was no return.

The heavy door at the far end of the room creaked open, and the officer called Kayode’s name. "Ojo! You get visitors," he said gruffly, motioning for Kayode to stand.

Kayode looked up, his expression hollow. He didn’t know who would want to see him—this man who had taken a life, who had destroyed everything he once held dear. But he pushed himself to his feet, his movements slow and burdened by the weight of his guilt.

The officer led him down a narrow hallway to a small, starkly furnished room with a single table and a few chairs. The walls were bare, except for a clock that seemed to tick louder than usual in the oppressive silence. As Kayode stepped inside, his eyes fell on the group of people already seated, waiting for him.

There, at the center of the group, was an elderly woman whose face was etched with deep lines of sorrow and resilience. Her eyes, once vibrant, were now clouded with grief. She was surrounded by a few younger family members, their expressions a mixture of anger, pain, and disbelief.

Kayode hesitated at the threshold, his breath catching in his throat. The woman’s presence stirred something deep within him, something that had been buried for years. "Aminat?" he whispered, barely recognizing his own voice.

The woman—Aminat—looked up at him, her gaze sharp and penetrating despite the tears that welled up in her eyes. "Kayode… is it really you?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and heartbreak.

Kayode’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped closer, the weight of the past crashing down on him. "Aminat… what are you doing here?" he stammered, though the answer was already beginning to take shape in his mind, a truth too terrible to face.

Aminat’s voice broke as she responded, "I came to see the man who killed my son. But I never imagined… I never imagined it would be you."

The words struck Kayode like a physical blow. His vision blurred, and he felt the room spin as the full horror of what she was saying began to sink in. "Your… son?" he echoed, struggling to comprehend. The walls of the room seemed to close in on him, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

Aminat nodded, her hands trembling as she fought to keep her composure. "Musa was our son, Kayode. The boy you killed… he was your son."

Kayode’s world shattered. The truth hit him like a sledgehammer, knocking the air from his lungs. "No… no, that can’t be…" he muttered, shaking his head as if trying to deny the reality in front of him. But deep down, he knew it was true. The timelines, the circumstances—it all added up in a cruel twist of fate.

Aminat’s voice softened as she continued, "After you left… I found out I was pregnant. I tried to reach you, but you were already gone. I raised Musa on my own, and he grew up never knowing who his father was. I never thought… never thought it would end like this."

Kayode felt his legs give way as he collapsed into the chair behind him, his body wracked with sobs. "Musa… my son…" he whispered, his voice thick with anguish. He had failed in the most horrific way imaginable, destroying the very person he should have protected. The boy he had hunted down with such rage, the life he had taken in a blind quest for revenge, was his own flesh and blood.

One of the younger men, Musa’s cousin, stepped forward, unable to contain his anger any longer. "You killed him! Your own son! How could you?" he shouted, his voice filled with righteous fury.

Kayode didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say to defend himself, nothing that could undo the tragedy he had caused. He hung his head, letting the accusations wash over him, drowning in his own remorse.

Aminat’s grief was too deep for words. She turned away, unable to look at Kayode any longer. "I’ve lost everything," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I never imagined that the man I once loved would be the one to take it all away."

The officer overseeing the visit stepped forward, signaling that the meeting was over. The family slowly rose, their faces marked by sorrow and anger as they filed out of the room. Aminat was the last to leave, her heart broken not only by the loss of her son but by the cruel twist of fate that had brought such devastation upon them.

As the door closed behind them, Kayode was left alone with his torment. The image of Musa, lifeless and innocent, would haunt him for the rest of his days—a constant reminder of the irreversible damage caused by his obsession and rage.

The officer led Kayode back to his cell, his spirit shattered, his heart broken beyond repair. The man who had once vowed to protect his family had now destroyed it.

As the cell door clanged shut behind him, Kayode sank to the cold floor, his body shaking with silent sobs. The darkness closed in around him, and all he could see was Musa’s face—his son, his blood, the final victim of his madness.