To her freshest and second adventure in forming marriage alliance with Mr. Ribadau, she hoped such adventure would for eternity bring her close to happiness, give her marital identity and brought her closer to the stiffest ambition. She was at the time of his forming marriage alliance with Mr. Ribadau a woman of the republic, fancied by her secret fans and had attracted a lot of attention in the society. She had wanted it big at the list of women who would make up for the most prestigious long eyed seat with their husbands, never believing that there was time for everything. The death of Mr. Ribadau had wane the wait, had shattered the dream, had torn her world and had made her a permanent burden to guilt.
 She would have belonged to the group of women in huge head ties, always making huge proposals and forming foundations to get fund from the government purse for the eradication of the killer diseases, gender equality and family support programs. Like others, it was all an emotional sentiment, and greedy converting of political stool and wealth to one pocket.
Since the break of the news and the funeral, she had declined calls and avoided public view for the mourning of her dear husband. The tone of her voice spelled pity and hopelessness as if her life sorely depended on Mr. Ribadau. She chose time to ease her pain, but when sympathizers flowed, she reacted with characteristics sang-froid which would have been exceptional at that given time. She took a room off the main house and went down to Mr. Ribadaus living room to ease her pain.
It was the room where he was assassinated. The room where they had always met as couple, always accessible anytime now as empty as air. The room was in complete disorder, with lots of thorn travel documents scattered about, Islamic prayer rosaries, old pictures in their university days with foreign students and lecturers and lots of blood stained garments spread over rug, chairs and bed which had dried. He was killed in the most cruel-some manner unimaginable.
Memories were back from the slightest time and signaled her that she had won a thick flesh for stricken conscience. The picture had come clearly in her mind the first time she met her two lovebirds when they were still young and brave in Italy in the gathering of many African students who had come to celebrate the bonfire on the fifth of November. That was her first outing. She was still new to the university and a young girl. These young people knew nothing – love, education, their appearance, business and smart future. The night they first discovered themselves, that they could be truly friends. Zack was truly good, yet famous for the weakness of flesh. They were good intimate friends until later when both of them had interest in her and contested who should take her after all.
 For some time, they drifted apart and the feud that came up afterward lingered for a brief period. Their acquaintance grew into friendship later when she told the two that she would maintain neutrality to her relationship with them, something that was not possible afterward. They fought over words and crashed publicly. Such friendship lasted until Mr. Zack made her pregnant. The whole affair ended in tragedy to Mr. Ribadua.
Time spaced some years later and they came to Africa where they join politics in full force. Few years after the war that affected almost everyone and every region, they met at the same spot and with the same political game master Mr. President. They joined in the list of sources and forces, which afforded them into deep insight into African political family and life. They had read and contributed to the writing of the books like “The West and Rest of Us “and many other works that exposed and plunged them into the new face of politics in the black continent because of their knowledge of politics as political students in their university days. There were many things they shared together doing as friends and colleagues.
Next was Pius incessant calls, which irritated her and made her more confused and grievous, not only that he made repeated calls, threatening late Mr. Ribadau, but want to go into locked bitter fighting with anyone he sees hanging around him. Since the death of Mr. Ribadau, his tone of voice had totally changed to peace and uniformity in voice and action. He spoke plainly for peace and wanted to meet his real mother and say his sorry. It might arouse some suspicion. To her, it does not really matter. It was her son who still deserved to be given a good future. Therefore, she could not do anything to expose her own son. She might be very fortunate to have him back. It was not bad although.