When Omar Fasanmi was informed by his father, Senator Abdullah Fasanmi, that they were to be exiled from Nigeria, as a result of the former's staunch opposition to Nigerian President Muhammadu Bukari, and his regime, the younger Fasanmi thought it was a joke. Sure, as a member of the Senate of Nigeria the elder Fasanmi was well-known for his hatred of all things related to Mr. Bukari's regime, but Omar didn't think things were that bad between his father and his nation's fearless leader.
Apparently, Senator Abdullah Fasanmi tried to push an oil deal between the oil-rich Bayelsa State of Nigeria and the Government of Indonesia. The Bukari regime, backed by the Chinese and the Americans, both of whom had designs on Nigerian oil, were more than happy to help the furious Nigerian President kill the deal. The vengeful Bukari government then came after the Fasanmi clan, and the wealthy old Nigerian Muslim politician's party-guy son was not spared.
"My son, we are going to have to leave Nigeria, if we don't want to end up dead," Abdullah Fasanmi, disgraced former member of the Nigerian Senate, said to his son one Friday evening. Omar had come home late as usual, having gone to Capital Club Lagos, one of the steamiest hangouts in the Nigerian capital region. At that club, the drinks flowed, and the ladies were hot. Omar had his fill of both, and returned home after one hell of a party, only to receive some truly dire news.
"Baba, get real, I can't leave Nigeria forever, this is our home, our land, and besides, President Bukari is like a paper tiger, the old man wouldn't dare touch you," Omar said, and the somber look on his father's face confirmed his worst fears. Abdullah Fasanmi looked at his only son and shook his head, and that's when Omar's world began to crumble. Why must I always pay for mistakes that were not my own? Omar silently asked himself.
"Omar, I've secured safe passage for us to Indonesia thanks to my contacts in the Indonesian government, this is our only chance, the United States doesn't want us, and neither do their allies in Canada and the United Kingdom," Abdullah Fasanmi said to his son. Omar glared angrily at his father, wondering why he must pay for his father's failed political machinations.
The young Nigerian Muslim thought long and hard about the life which his father was asking him to give up. Omar Fasanmi had lots of friends in the City of Lagos, even more than he had in his hometown of Kano, in the predominantly Muslim north of Nigeria. Born into a Muslim family, Omar liked the taste of wine and the pursuit of lovely women more than the most adventurous and liberal of Christians. Only twenty three years old, Omar was at the start of his life, and had already accomplished a lot.
As befitting a son of the wealthy Nigerian upper class, Omar Fasanmi had gone to study abroad, and graduated from the University of London with his MBA in 2016. Omar missed living in the U.K. and had a hell of a time at the London Business School. He thought about settling in the City of London, getting a good job and maybe finding a good woman, but his father Abdullah Fasanmi summoned him back to Nigeria. And now, this latest mess was going to wreck Omar's life for good...
"Fine, Baba, we're going to Indonesia, I promise you one thing, though, I want to live my own life and make my own decisions, you've ruined my life often enough," Omar said angrily, and Abdullah Fasanmi looked at his only son and sighed, but said nothing. Forty eight hours later, the Fasanmi men found themselves in the City of Jakarta, Indonesia. The flight from Lagos, via Lufthansa, had been long but uneventful. Father and son stood inside the Soekarno-Hatta International Airport in the City of Jakarta, Capital of Indonesia.
"Omar, I've thought long and hard about what you said, and you're right, I have made a mess of our lives, I am sorry for this, but we are family, and we will get through this together," Abdullah Fasanmi said to his son, who looked at him and shook his head. They shared a half-hearted hug before they went to meet with Mohammed Wirajuda, the elder Fasanmi's ally in the Indonesian Government.
Omar Fasanmi has always been a lot smarter than he let on, hiding his prodigious brain power behind the façade of a hard-drinking, skirt-chasing womanizer. A lot of people were surprised when he graduated in the top three percent of his class in the London School of Business. Tall, dark and handsome, he liked well-tailored suits, was fond of traveling, fine dining, and pursuing exotic women. If Abdullah Fansanmi thought moving to Indonesia would slow down his adventurous son, he definitely underestimated Omar...
"If Indonesia is going to be my home, I must get to know the place and her people, and create a place for myself in their society," Omar Fasanmi said to his father Abdullah, the day he departed their townhouse in the middle-class Baturaja neighborhood of Jakarta. The elder Fasanmi shook his son's hand, and smiled sadly as he watched him depart. May the Most High protect you, Omar, for you are my only son, Abdullah Fasanmi thought, hopefully.
Omar Fasanmi had made up his mind to explore Indonesia, never mind that the place was huge, filled with a people he did not understand. Omar had been alone when he first set foot in London, UK, and he lived like a prince among the British. Never mind that in those days, the City of London was growing too racially diverse for conservative elements of British society, and waves of xenophobia struck one of the United Kingdom's largest cities.
Fearless, Omar Fasanmi stared down the Brits, hostile though they may be, and lived life his way. He was not intimidated by the City of London, nor its size and opulence. The tall, dark and handsome Nigerian Muslim brother studied, drank, partied, dated white women, and graduated with honors from the London School of Business, a prestigious institution which a lot of British lads usually flunked at. If Omar could conquer the United Kingdom, how tough could Indonesia be?
Eleven months after Omar Fasanmi first set foot in Jakarta, Indonesia, he was doing surprisingly well. He moved to the Island of Borneo, most specifically, the City of Samarinda, where he found work as an assistant manager for Ellington Enterprises, a British digital security company with close ties to Britcham Indonesia, the British Chamber of Commerce in Indonesia. Omar was starting to really enjoy his new digs, especially since he got involved with a charming local lady...
"Put me down," Mariam Sungkar said, laughing and struggling against a pair of large arms which held her aloft, her feet dangling in the air, less than a meter from the waves of Mahakam River. The owner of those arms, a tall, brawny and dark-skinned young Nigerian man grinned, and then unceremoniously complied with the young Indonesian woman's wishes, and dropped her into the water.
A sharp squeal escaped Mariam's lips as she fell into the lukewarm waters of the Mahakam River. They were in a secluded spot, within walking distance of the City of Samarinda, her hometown. Just a pair of lovebirds out on the riverbank once upon a moonlit night. Omar and Mariam had the riverbank all to themselves, and definitely took advantage of it...
"Be careful what you wish for," Omar Fasanmi replied, chuckling softly as Mariam glared at him through chestnut eyes. Five feet seven inches tall and curvy, her traditional silver dress soaked, her long dark hair slipping out from under her Hijab, Mariam was not a happy camper. Her beautiful, small face was scrunched up in anger, and Omar flinched, and held his hands in the air, wondering if he'd gone too far.
"Kamu bodoh bodoh ( you dumb fool )," Mariam hissed, and she kicked Omar in the shins, and as he bent over, groaning in pain, she splashed water onto his dark, handsome face. Before Omar could protest, Mariam gave him a shove, and he fell into the water, landing squarely on his ass. Mariam laughed merrily at Omar, who seemed quite surprised at having been bested by so tiny a lady. Never underestimate females, no matter where you are, Omar chastised himself silently.