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TRANSCRIPT
Bring Our Girls Back
by
Lukhanyo Sikwebu
Lukhanyo Sikwebu
36 DeBebussy Rd, Mandalay
Cape Town, South Africa
071 800 0024
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CAPTION: The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for
good men to do nothing – Edmund Burke
GRAINY VIDEO FOOTAGE / INTERCUT:
EXT. RURAL AFRICAN VILLAGE - AFTERNOON
We see sloppy video footage of Boko Haram soldiers burning down a
village. Gunshots blast, killing some local villagers. Locals are
horrified, in a panic, begging for their lives.
EXT. DILAPIDATED WOODSHED – NOON
We see armed and drunk child-soldiers, getting high on drugs, hallu-
cinating.
INT. MUD HUT – EVENING
Boko Haram Muslim soldiers pray on their mats, with bayonets, money
stacks and M-16 machine gun rifles beside them.
EXT – DINGY FOREST - DAY
We see a menacing Boko Haram leader speaking to camera, seemingly
making demands, with approximately fifty abducted girls standing be-
hind him.
FADE TO:
EXT. POSH GOLF COURSE – LATE AFTERNOON
We pan over a luxury golf course on the outskirts of the city. The
skies are overcast, with promises of rain.
A tall menacing-looking lean man, in his late fifties, is on the
centre of greens with NAIMA. He holds his golf club firmly, trying
to demonstrate how to swing properly. Naima, dressed in a sexy golf
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dress with cute shades and a cap, observes his proud display of ex-
perience.
At a distance, watching, are their caddies. They’re standing beside
their golf-carts, patiently waiting.
MAN
I was just like you when I started, so don’t
panic babes. In fact, let’s try this …
He steps right up to Naima, behind her, seductively.
MAN (conti’d)
If you don’t mind?
NAIMA
It’s fine.
He wraps his wiry arms around her, grabbing Naima’s gold club over
her hands, demonstrating.
MAN
You bend your knees a bit, legs slightly apart,
loosen your hip, look down, swing back … hit.
The man’s caddie smiles mischievously, watching his boss work it. He
pulls out a cigarette and lights it up.
Naima’s caddie, ANTHONY, isn’t impressed – neither about the man
smoking on the course or his flirtatious boss.
NAIMA
Okay let me try it.
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The man steps aside.
Naima swings back, and hits.
The ball travels some distance, and into the sand bunker.
NAIMA (conti’d)
Damn it man!
MAN
Not bad. At least you got some distance. Now
watch this.
The man steps up, placing his ball down, about to show her how it’s
done.
Naima notices a two golfers at a distance, entering the greens,
about to tee off.
MAN (conti’d)
It’s about patience and finesse … like you’re
making love to the ball. Know what I mean?
A bored Naima nods and smiles dryly.
He hits the ball. It travels straight and far.
He then turns to Naima, proud as ever.
NAIMA
Impressive.
MAN(conti’d/smiling wide)
So how about you let me couch you? No charge!
NAIMA (sassy)
Nope! I don’t know you mister.
Anthony steps up to Naima and hands her another club.
She takes it and walks forward towards the sand bunker.
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The man follows her as the caddies trail behind on golf karts.
MAN
So I’m Clinton, pleased to meet you.
They shake hands.
NAIMA
Wendy. Likewise.
CLINTON
How come I’ve never seen you here before? You’re
a member? What do you do?
NAIMA
So many questions …
MAN
Sorry, I’m just …
NAIMA
No need. I’m in sanitation. We take out trash.
CLINTON
Okay, interesting.
Anthony, following behind the Clinton’s caddie, pulls out a pistol
with a silencer already screwed in.
NAIMA
And you?
CLINTON
Entertainment. I have bars and nightclubs all
over the country.
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NAIMA
Adult entertainment I’m sure.
CLINTON (giggles)
Yeah, but not sleazy. It’s high class joints, all
over the country. I’ll show you sometime if
you’ll let me.
They approach the sand pit.
Naima motions for him to please get the ball out.
NAIMA
I can’t hit it there. Do you mind please?
CLINTON
Of course. You won’t be able to hit a bunker
shot. We’ll cheat and put it back on the green
for you. For this shot you’d need to use a pitch-
ing wedge. Lifts the ball high, unlike the iron
you’re holding.
He tip toes on the sand to get her ball.
Naima slides the bottom clubhead off her golf club, transforming it
into a sharp sword. She grips it tightly and steps closer to him.
Clinton crouches down and gets the ball. As he turns around, seeing
over Naima’s shoulder, he notices Anthony placing his caddie’s life-
less body neatly on their golf cart.
He’s startled and turns to Naima, who’s has a sword drawn.
CLINTON (conti’d)
What the fuck’s going on? Who are you?
NAIMA
Besides human trafficking, you killed Danielle
Peters last year, and got away with it.
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CLINTON
What? Who the fuck are you?
NAIMA
A sixteen year old girl.
Naima steps closer.
CLINTON
Bullshit, I was acquitted on all charges, bitch.
What you gonna do, cut me in front of all these
witnesses, in broad daylight?
A pair of unsuspecting golfers approach casually, at a far
distance.
NAIMA
Yes!
Naima ducks and slices the side of his abdomen. He drops, screaming
in pain. She stuffs a blade deep in the back of his neck, and pulls
it back out.
He drops dead on sand.
Naima quickly grabs his cell phone out his pocket as Anthony pulls
up in a golf cart. Naima hops in, looking around.
The golfers at a distance point towards them, suspicious, walking
closer.
Anthony pulls a hand grenade pin out and throws it towards their
direction. BOOM! They dive for cover as Anthony drives to the edge
of the course, the fence, a bushy section with trees and shrubs.
On the other side of the meshed golf club fence are two motorbikes.
Anthony parks.
Naima hops on the back stool of the golf cart and jumps over the
fence. Anthony does the same.
Naima hops on her motorbike, wears a helmet, starts the engine and rides off.
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CREDITS ROLL.
It’s a long dry and straight road. We see an aerial shot. Naima rides on at top speed.
She rides past small towns, past a police station, past a church.
She speeds over the freeway and through the city at top speed.
She throws the phone away in a river beneath a bridge.
TIMECUT
It’s early evening. She arrives at a residential neighbourhood, still speeding through.
Naima eventually slows down as a home electric gate opens up for her to ride in.
EXT. NAIMA’S HOUSE - NIGHT
The gate of the modest cottage style home quickly shuts behind her.A hefty Rottweiler leaps on Naima as she hops off the bike. She toys with her hairy friend, rubbing and kissing it.
NAIMA
Hello boy. Hello my boy, did you miss mommy? You did didn’t you? Missed you too.
Naima walks up to the door and punches a security code. The door opens. She walks in.
INT. NAIMA’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Naima’s home interior comprises of an eclectic mix of stylized photography, religious paintings and biblical symbols.
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Naima takes her gloves off and walks straight to the basement.
She punches another secret code to open a steel door, and steps in-side.
INT. NAIMA’S HOUSE / BASEMENT CELLAR - NIGHT
The room is lit by blue LED lights. Two assault rifles, a sword, bul-lets and a Beretta 9mm pistol lay neatly on a coffee table beside the entrance. Up on the wall is an image of Clinton. Beside the photo is a newspaper article with the heading: Community Protests as Millionaire Nightclub Owner Gets Away with Rape Charge, Again.Naima takes a red marker and crosses his face with it.She walks towards the exit and switches the lights off as she leaves.
INT. COLLEGE CLASSROOM - MORNING
Naima, dressed in a silky white blouse and black pants, stands beside a short stick figured student in front of a class.
The young man, THANDO, is reciting his poem to the class.
THANDO
(animated)
No sunny days, just rain. Pain. What goes around comes around. It’s a law, it won’t change. It’s always the same. There’s no escaping blame. Karma will come knocking again. Thank you.
The class gives him a lukewarm ovation.
NAIMA
Thanks Thando. T’was good. But you were supposed to give us four paragraphs. I asked for four stanzas with more wordplay - oxymorons, puns, al-literation and so on. You gave us just one.
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THANDO
(boastful and bouncy)
But it rhymes tight, Miss, and it’s insightful. I’m spitting knowledge on these fools. Pearls of wisdom.
SINDI, a chubby four eyed girl rolls her eyes, annoyed.
SINDI
No you’re not, douchebag! And t’was supposed to be way longer.
NAIMA
Wait, hold up Sindi. Don’t critique yet. We’ll have a debate when everyone’s done.
Naima turns back to Thando, who’s discreetly giving Sindi his middle finger.
NAIMA (cont’d)
More word-play next time. Do your homework properly. Take a seat.
(to the class)
So, who's next?
EXT. FARMSTEAD - AFTERNOON
We see a neatly kept farm with an array of herded animals. The land is massive. Goats, sheep and cattle roam the well-nourished property. Grown pineapples and tomatoes give the place bright vibrant colours. There are dedicated staff members working the land.
Naima lays flat on her stomach, at a gun range, beside a bearded old white male, FRANK SAUNDERS, shooting paper targets.They use M21 sniper rifles, aiming at targets approximately a hundred metres away.Joining them, standing aside, is Anthony, in formal work clothes and
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glasses now. He has his laptop opened, going through a PowerPoint presentation.
ANTHONY
(shouts over the gunshots)
His name is Mvula Radebe, deputy minister of Wa-ter and Sanitation. I’ll email you his home ad-dress this evening.
NAIMA
Sure. Thanks.
Naima concentrates on her target through the rifle scope and fires. Bullseye.
NAIMA
(cont’d)
Carry on please, I’m listening.
ANTHONY
Last month he was acquitted of a third count of statutory rape. He has a thing for teenagers. Dirty paedophile knob.
Naima pauses and turns to Anthony’s dialogue now, concentrating.
On Anthony’s laptop, we see various photos, scanned newspaper articles and digital documents.
ANTHONY (conti’d)
He doesn’t force himself on the girls. He lures them with cash, promising them the world. He ba-sically shows off, plays big and pays for sex. Here’s the kicker though - he's apparently got AIDS. His ex-wife is an activist, and she's open about her HIV positive status.
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FRANK
(grunts as he stands up)
So the prick’s infecting teenage girls and giving them cash for it. Typical politician dirt-bag.
ANTHONY
(concentrated on his laptop screen)
Yup. He's also a party animal. Every Thursday he's with his parliament buddies at … wait let me find it … the Grand Inn Club. It's a cigar lounge with high class prostitutes. He gets hammered every weekend until Sunday af-ternoon. He also frequents the place midweek. Oh, and he snorts coke.
NAIMA
Cocaine?
ANTHONY
Yup, white lines up his nostrils. He’s fooling around with some young pop star named ... hold on … Missy Angel, who introduced him to coke and ec-stasy last year.
NAIMA
(standing up)
Maybe I should pay him a visit at the Grand Inn?
ANTHONY
He’s security’s tight! On some ex Scorpions-re-serve-bank-fidelity-guards type of shit.
Frank coughs continuously as he stands.
NAIMA
I just wanna assess. I'll dress up as some ditsy gold-digging bimbo and get his attention. That’s
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it.
BEAT.
ANTHONY
(shuts his laptop)
Cool. Anyways, so what’s up with General Barker’s proposition? D’you accept?
Frank pauses abruptly, to hear Naima.
NAIMA
I’m still thinking about it.
FRANK
Let's get inside, guys. It’s cold.
Frank limps away slowly towards the main house.
Naima stands, packing up.
ANTHONY
Maybe you should sit this one out, Naima? It’s a jungle out there.
Naima slowly follows behind Frank, with the rifle to her side.
NAIMA
Sure, I’ll see. You coming inside?
ANTHONY
Nope. Got a lunch date with a new blonde desk clerk from the office. Reckons I’m smart and cute.
FRANK
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(coughing and yelling out)
Run along buddy. The Justice Department needs its star player. Thanks for the brief.
ANTHONY
Sure Frank, cheers.
NAIMA
(chuckles)
You dirty dog. Cheers Ant. Thanks.
ANTHONY
Cool. Bye.
A thoughtful Anthony watches Naima walking away.
INT. FRANK’S FARM HOUSE – MORNING
We see a French vintage abode, with modern finishes. Hung up on the walls are old photos of Frank and a young Naima - mostly goofing around. We see a young Frank with friends, in military uniform. Beside it is a teenage Naima, receiving a medal, in Karate gear. There’s also another black and white photo of Naima, armed, in military uniform with two other soldiers.
Frank and Naima walk straight to the main bedroom, to a closet.Frank pulls his suits and shirts aside, and punches a secret code on a keypad, unlocking a hidden wooden door inside.He slides it open to a miniature room, approximately 2m x 3m in size.It’s lit by a fluorescent light bulb which flickers endlessly. There are guns, knives, hand grenades, silencers, rifle scopes and bullets inside.He places back the sniper rifles they’ve just used.
NAIMA
Hand me two grenades, please, and the blade.
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Frank leans inside, stretches and grabs the items. He coughs pain-fully. He turns the lights off and shuts the door. He steps back in the bed-room.
Slowly and carefully, he hands Naima the weapons.
NAIMA
Thanks. It’s for this minister job.
FRANK
Sure. Careful now. Hey, I have something I wanna tell you.
Frank throws himself on the bed as Naima rests the weapons neatly on the mattress.
FRANK (conti’d)
But first tell me about your situations. How’s Themba? How’s the situation with your ...y’now ... mother? How’re your students? Give me the lowdown.
NAIMA
The lowdown, listen to you. There isn’t much to tell, dad.
Naima sits on the edge of the bed, facing him.
NAMIA (conti’d)
Themba’s hinting at marriage … blah, blah, blah. He doesn’t trust me though. He suspects some-thing. Actually said it the other day. He’s like, if I’m not cheating on him, then I have another secret job.
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FRANK
Smart little prick... And your biological ...
NAIMA
We’re warming up to each other, kinda. I still haven’t told her anything. I’m not ready for all that, y’know. So, what's going on with you?
FRANK
I’m glad you’re getting along with her. Give her a chance, hear her out...
NAIMA
You said you have something you wanna share …
FRANK
Stop ducking. You can’t live this life forever, Naima. Sooner or later you’re gonna have to settle ...
NAIMA
(interrupts)
Yes I know, the clock’s ticking and all that. That’s why this Nigerian job’s gonna be my last.
BEAT.
FRANK
Maybe you should decline baby.
NAIMA
Is that what this is about? Fine, I’m leaving ...
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Naima turns to grab the weapons.
FRANK
The cancer's back, baby. And it’s serious, the doc says.
BEAT.
Naima shuts her eyes momentarily, and then turns back to him.
NAIMA
(whispers painfully)
And chemotherapy … radiation …
Frank coughs painfully.
FRANK
It’s spread to the bones. Doctor’s given me six to eight months.
A startled Naima looks away.
FRANK (conti’d)
Say something, baby.
NAIMA
You need a second and third opinion, and even a fourth maybe. I’ll find qualified GP’s. Don’t worry.
She wipes a tear off her cheek.
FRANK
Don’t waste your time, angel. Just thought you should know we aren't out the woods yet.
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He takes his shoes off.
FRANK (conti’d)
So, you accepted Barker’s offer? You’re going to Nigeria for the girls?
NAIMA
(teary eyed)
You fought it once, and won. You'll beat this again dad.
FRANK
Yes, I will. Maybe. Let’s move on please.
BEAT.
NAIMA
I’m sorry dad.
FRANK
I’ll be fine my baby. So, what’s up with the search and rescue op?
NAIMA
I haven’t confirmed it with the General, but I reckon I’ll do it. We’ll spend about two days there, apparently, close to the Cameroonian bor-der. Then I’ll come back to look after you, okay?
FRANK
Roger that. And this is your last job ...
Naima stands, holding the bayonet and grenades ultra-carefully.
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NAIMA
Sure. Okay bye dad. I gotta run.
FRANK
Bye baby.
Naima walks outside to her car.
EXT. FRANK’S FARM - MORNING
We see the rich colourful splendour of the farm and animals.
Naima opens the passenger side of her silver Audi A5 model, and drops the weapons. She walks on around to the driver’s, and gets in.
INT. NAIMA’S CAR - MORNING
Naima glances at the weapons safely placed in a padded compartment between the front seats. A leather-bound bible lays in the backseat.
A distressed Naima takes two deep breaths, sits back and ponders.
INT. BOKO HARAM COMPOUND / WOODEN MADE SHACK – MORNING
FATIMA(18yrs, big boned) sits up on the bed, braiding her hair with the use of a broken mirror. She’s half covered in blankets, wearing just a bra. CAPTAIN KNIGHT KWAFIMBI(51yrs, intense eyes) stands at the edge of the bed, getting dressed in army fatigues. He takes pride in his uniform, straitening his beret just right.
BEAT.
ZAHEERA (19yrs, polite) dressed in an Islamic hijab dress, walks in-side the room. She’s carrying a warm plate of a cooked pig head dipped in pork stew. She steps up to Knight, manages a smile and hands him his breakfast. She bows respectfully, making sure not to look him in the eyes.
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KNIGHTThank you, wife.
Zaheera joins Fatima on the bed while he remains on the edge of the mattress, gobbling his food down.They whisper casually at each other while the soldier stuffs his face using just his hands.
ZAHEERALet me help you. I can do hair better than you.
FATIMALiar.
Zaheera sits behind Fatima, fondling Fatima’s hair.
BEAT.
Knight stands, leaving a half-finished meal on the bed.
KNIGHT (to them both)
Save it for me for later.
The girls agree with head nods and soft agreeable mummers. As he exits the shack, the girls raise their voice freely.
ZAHEERA
And where’re you going? Fixing your hair, trying to look all cute.
FATIMATo a fancy ballroom dance show, out of town. I’ve got my shiny gown, make up, heels and everything.
They chuckle.
ZAHEERA
So, how are you, really? You feeling better?
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FATIMAIf you’re asking if I still plan to ... y’know... Then yes. Nothing’s changed.
ZAHEERA (whispers)
Don’t be stupid, Fatima. C’mon man.
FATIMAIt’s already done, Zaheera. Just leave it. It’s happening.
Zaheera shrugs, pulling a face.
ZAHEERADon’t!
Zaheera shakes her head, giving her a worried stare.Fatima ignores her, concentrated on her hair through the mirror.
INT. SANDF MILITARY BASE/GENERAL BARKER’S OFFICE - NIGHT
GENERAL JONATHAN BARKER (58yrs, large) is in his army decorated office with Naima, Frank and Anthony. He’s giving a digital presentation. They are all concentrated on an oversized digital map of Nigeria and neigh-bouring countries on a screen. General Barker holds a laser pointer pen, explaining.
GENERAL BARKERThese are the Sambisa Forests, next to Borno State. The girls are currently held around here, in a com-pound. We don’t have their exact coordinates pinned down, yet, but I should have by tomorrow afternoon. Latest the next day.
FRANKAnd you have a mole inside?
GENERAL BARKER (hesitates)
I do. Dependable! Our intel is legit. Okay let’s get back to the map please.(back to screen)Within the next few days, Boko Haram leaders will meet with ISIS heads at the border of Chad, Nigeria
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and Cameroon. They’re merging resources and forming a mega terrorist network that’s meant to first dom-inate these three states, and then the rest of Africa. They’re calling this new group Hatari. It’s already formed, actually, but still in its early days. The meeting is to formalise its structures and have one central headquarters. So, Boko Haram leaders, along with their best marksmen, will drive to the chosen location at the three borders for the meeting, and then afterwards they’ll travel back to the compound to pack up and relocate everyone to the new location. We can’t let it happen. We need to rescue the girls within this 24hour window when they’re gone - before they come back. If they man-age to relocate, it’s all over.
NAIMAWhat d’you mean?
GENERAL BARKERIf they merge with ISIS, they’ll have unlimited re-sources, military presence and fire power. There’ll be untouchable, basically - a shit storm for West Africa.
ANTHONYGeneral, why haven’t the governments of these three countries neutralized these terrorist assholes yet?
GENERAL BARKERGood question. Rumours suggest that these rebels have high ranking military officials in their pock-ets. In all three states. They’re heavily funded with Eastern oil money, blood money, to impose their Islamic beliefs and conquer. Military salar-ies are a joke compared to what these evil bastards offer. Their modus operandi is simple: they hide behind the vail of ‘we’re just fighting against Western education and customs’, and rape, murder and kill innocent civilians to strengthen their army.
NAIMAUsing teenage girls and boys in the process.
GENERAL BARKERYup. That’s the basis of their whole struggle. The name Boko Haram means, anti-Western education. But it’s really about toppling governments, ruling and stealing money.
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NAIMA (annoyed)
Exactly who’s funding them?
FRANKWith hundreds of millions of dollars, and heli-copters, missiles, satellite communication, spe-cialised weaponry, tanks ...
GENERAL BARKERWell, we know of a businessman named Anwar Muhammed Alsalim, who’s former Al – Qaida. ISIS of course. We have thermal satellite images of all three group leaders meeting repeatedly in different countries. They’re definitely communicating. Okay, we’re get-ting off topic a bit, guys. Let’s stick to the main issue please.
Naima gives Frank a quick glance.Frank frowns in response.
GENERAL BARKER (back on the map)
The mission is to rescue the girls before this re-location takes place. Hopefully we’ll get the girls and kill these bastards in the process – but the priority is the girls. We have support from the Ni-gerian army - weapons and air support. We’ve got an evac plan in case of any surprises.
General Barker presses the laser pen, flipping the digital screen to two aerial satellite photos of Boko Haram leaders.
GENERAL BARKER (conti’d)We’re likely to face this man – Brian Knight Kwafimbi, commonly known as Captain Knight. Got the name for his multiple kills from an early age. Ap-parently he’d sleep during the day and kill opposi-tion forces at NIGHT. He’s an evil calculating Muslim extremist, with a temper. He’s their man on the ground - always thirsty for blood.
Frank throws Naima a quick look.General Barker presses the laser pen again, flipping the digital screen to random portraits.
GENERAL BARKER (conti’d)
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So far I’ve managed to assemble nine highly skilled sharpshooters. I handpicked them myself from all over the globe. We’ve got a solid recon team – point, comms, route and medic. I’m hoping for at least twelve. I need you, Naima. Please.
NAIMAI know, but tell us a bit more about the coordin-ates, exact landing spot, comms frequencies, evac strategies, GPS signal strength and so on. I’m not avoiding you, General, but …
FRANKI don’t like it. Ya’ll going in blindfolded, and they have an army of these rebel savages. I’ll be in the car, this is bullshit John. Clear practical intel!
GENERAL BARKERAnd you’ll have it all Frank, within forty-eight hours, like I said. There’s a lot of them, yes, but they’re illiterate drunk thugs, with machine guns. And most of them will be on the road, when we get there. Which is why this is our only shot.
Frank starts to walk out, grumbling.
Anthony follows behind.They exit.
NAIMADon’t mind him.
GENERAL BARKERI get Frank’s concerns. I’m a bit vague with the details ‘coz my mole can only send me intel when it’s safe to. He’s with them everyday, all day. One mistake and its bye-bye. I’ll call you in two days, with everything.
NAIMASure.
GENERAL BARKERPlease keep in mind that we probably have just a week, tops. I’ll keep you updated.
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Naima steps towards the exit.
GENERAL BARKER (conti’d)Oh, and as remuneration, all twelve of us get a million rands, each.
NAIMAVery generous. So who’s funding this, if I may? Who’re we fighting for, Sir?
GENERAL BARKER (winks and smiles)
When you say yes and we land at the jungle, I’ll tell you.
NAIMAFair enough.
GENERAL BARKERIt’s a dangerous mission, Naima. But we have the tools and skill pull it off, without a single casu-alty from our side.
Naima salutes the General.
NAIMAGoodnight General.
The General salutes back.
GENERAL BARKERGoodnight Naima.
General Barker turns to the screen, eyeing each of the operatives displayed. He clicks on a video. INSERT - a rebel soldier is about to cut an old man’s hand off, in public.
EXT. SAMBISA FORESTS / BOKO HARAM COMPOUND - MIDDAY
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It’s a blistering hot day. The place is dusty with poorly made zinc and wooden shacks. There are human and animal skulls on the ground, laying randomly. Two corpses, in Nigerian army uniform, hang dangled near the main entrance of the compound. Fatima and Zaheera stand over an oversized burning pot, cooking pig feet and goat heads. They sweat heavily over the pot, stirring it with a huge wooden spoon.
FATIMA
I’ve got a water bottle, map and a knife. Need a compass though. As in yesterday.
ZAHEERA (shakes her head)
It’s gonna end badly for you.
FATIMAWhatever. Something bad’s about to happen here, you said it yourself when we saw all those army guys last week, discussing God knows what.
Zaheera steals a quick glance around, making sure they aren’t heard.
ZAHEERAHow’re you gonna do it, huh? There’re guards every-where. We’re in the middle of nowhere. You’ll die of dehydration or sunstroke …
FATIMA (interrupts)
Nyembezi and Gangwa Village are about an hour from here.
ZAHEERAAn hour! You don’t even know the distance.
FATIMAShut up man. Why’re you so negative, Zaheera? Damn!I’ve gotta find my child and get back to Grandma, and I will. I’m not stupid. I’ve got a … a trick up my sleeve. Could work.
They pause abruptly, letting another girl walk pass. She’s carry-ing a bucket of dirty water, about to chuck it away somewhere.
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ZAHEERAYou’re playing with serious fire. I don’t wanna bury you, Fati.
FATIMA (conti’d)Just help me find a compass, please.
BEAT.
Starring at Fatima, a worried Zaheera shakes her head.
Fatima stirs the cooking pot forcefully.
INT. THEMBA’S HOUSE – NIGHTNaima and THEMBA (39yrs, handsome, honest) sit in front of the TV, cuddled, with lit candles, rose pedals, having desert. The place is a cosy middle-class townhouse. Naima is concentrated on her man’s story as she holds a bowl of malva pudding.
THEMBASo we nab him on three charges - prostitution, un-derage drinking in his nightclub and drug dealing ...
NAIMAUh huh.
THEMBAGet this. The bastard turns around and offers us fifty thousand bucks, each.
NAIMAYou're joking!
THEMBASerious as a heart attack.
NAIMA (chuckles)
I’m sure some of ya’ll considered it ...
THEMBARich prick! So anyways, we have him against the wall, right, handcuffing him. And then all of a sudden he says: according to his calculations we
27
brought four police vans. That’s at least eight to ten cops. He’s willing to give us all fifty thou-sand bucks, each, if we look the other way. He’d actually calculated it.
NAIMAWow! And?
THEMBAWell y’know, we had to act professional and stuff. But there were a few seconds, about five seconds or so, where we all watched each other, y’know, kinda consid-ering it.
NAIMABut you did the honourable thing ...
THEMBAYah! I’m their lieutenant. I’d lose all credibility. But I won’t lie, babe, for a split second there, I wanted to ask: how about a hundred grand each?
NAIMASies on you, Themba.
She gives him a gentle slap on his arm.
THEMBAThey say everyone has a price, right? And it doesn’t help that our salaries are...
Naima’s phone rings. They both turn to it on the glass table.
THEMBAIt’s fine, get it.
NAIMAMaybe I should. It could be dad...His condition.
THEMBANo worries.
ON THE PHONE SCREEN: ‘General Barker’
28
Naima hesitates a sec, anxious as she picks up.
NAIMA (into phone)
Hello.
She walks over to the other side of the room, opens the sliding door to the balcony.
INT. GENERAL BARKER’S OFFICE – NIGHT
GENERAL BARKERHello Naima, I’m sorry to interrupt at this hour but it's urgent.
INTERCUT – PHONE CONVERSATION
NAIMA (O.S)Sure, what’s going on?
General Barker holds a red highlighter, marking specific territories on his desk map. He has Naima on speaker phone.
GENERAL BARKERJust got word from my guy about the move. They’re relocating the girls and everything else to the Cameroonian border in three days time – that’s this coming Friday afternoon.
INT. THEMBA’S HOME – NIGHT
A sulking Themba stands, making a noise as he collects their dirty dishes, heading for the kitchen.
NAIMA (on the phone)
What? I mean, excuse me Sir? This Friday?
BARKER (O.S)
29
I’m just as shocked as you are. I thought we’d at least have a week or two. Apparently they’re edgy and wanna relocate asap.
INT. GENERAL BARKER’S OFFICE - NIGHT
BARKER (conti’d)They’ve assembled all the manpower, fire power and vehicles to make it happen. And to answer your question earlier, they’re definitely funded by ISIS and a few Saudi business men. Anyways, this means that we have to leave here tomorrow, or at least get there Thursday morning. We’re ready. Everything from my side is sorted – jumbo jet, pilots, artil-lery, your navigation packs and everything. I’ve notified the rest of the team. Three of them are landing here at base at 04h00 tomorrow morning, and then the rest will start trickling in afterwards. As things stand, we fly from here at 02h00 Thursday and land on a private strip in Nigeria at 07h20. Can I count you in, Naima? We have 11 guys thus far. I need a dozen operatives.
INT. THEMBA’S HOME - NIGHT
Themba returns from the kitchen and throws himself on his couch. He wears a cold frown as he digs into his desert again, flipping through TV channels.
BEAT.
NAIMAOkay, you’ve got it. Count me in. Goodnight Sir.
GENERAL BARKER (O.S)Excellent. Goodnight Soldier.
She cuts the line and walks back. She’s preoccupied, her mind races though she forces a warm smile at him.
NAIMASorry about that. It was ...
THEMBA
30
No need to explain. You can tell me when you’re ready to TELL ME EVERYTHING.
She sits, throwing her legs on him again.Themba has switched to a wildlife channel. A chameleon, disguised as a tree twig snatches a bug and eats it.
THEMBA (conti’d, sarcastic)
Let me guess … you have to go now?
An embarrassed Naima nods.
THEMBA (conti’d)
Fine, go.
NAIMAGive me a bit of time, babes. A little while longer, please.
THEMBASure, whatever.
BEAT.
NAIMA (hesitant, taking her feet off him)
I’m sorry.
THEMBA
Just close the door behind you.
He raises the TV volume.
She grabs her jacket off the couch, and heads for the door.
A heated Themba remains, concentrated on the chameleon document-
ary.
INT. ANTHONY’S HOUSE / OFFICE – NIGHT
31
Naima sits with Anthony in a cluttered room filled with computer com-
ponents and surveillance elements. Anthony is in his pyjamas, drowsy.
In front of them are three large monitor screens showing Boko Haram
leaders. There are long range photo shots of secret meetings, close-
ups of massacred villagers, drunk rebels flying their Boko Haram flags
and drone shots of the Nigerian Sambisa forests. With a PC mouse,
Naima flips through the photos.
ANTHONY
This Thursday? That’s crazy!
NAIMA (panicky)
I know. It’s our only shot though.
ANTHONY
So you agreed?
Naima sits back in her chair.
NAIMA
I guess, but the timing stinks. Feels like I’m
abandoning dad … and Themba’s fucken livid -
doesn’t trust me …
ANTHONY
Your dad’s gonna be upset, dude. Frank hates sur-
prises.
NAIMA
Uh huh, I reckon Themba’s fed up with the secrets.
ANTHONY
(yawning and stretching)
And yet he still wants to marry you … The heart’s a
crazy thing. And you just keep stringing him along,
breaking his little heart ...
32
NAIMA
Rubbish man! Shut up!
ANTHONY
Whoaw, relax dude. I’m just saying … maybe you
shouldn’t go if you have all these responsibilities
… or concerns or whatever ... Plus you’ve got your
mom issue.
BEAT.
NAIMA
I’ve gotta go, Ant. This mission’s bigger than my
domestic crap.
ANTHONY (shakes his head)
Stubborn, as usual. So we cancelling the minister
job?
NAIMA (thoughtful)
No! That’s why I’m here. We’ll do it tomorrow morn-
ing. We’ve got all the intel, right?
ANTHONY (stands up)
We do. Okay, cool let’s strategize. Give me like
five minutes though. Need a cup of coffee, wake my
ass up. You want?
Anthony walks off.
NAIMA
A glass of milk for me please. I’m feeling a bit
nauseous.
ANTHONY
(O.S, yelling out)
33
Sure. Talk to your mom before you leave.
Naima brushes him off with a hand gesture and turns to one of the com-
puter screens. She operates the PC mouse to zoom into an image.
INSERT IMAGE: An aerial shot of Boko Haram men meeting with Arabic
sheiks.
FADE TO:
EXT. BOKO HARAM COMPOUND - DAY
The air is tense. Armed men and soldiers patrol the premises as men ar-rive in luxury jeeps, Humvees and army vans. High ranking military men step off the jeeps and are led into a neatly dressed wooden shed.
INT. BOKO HARAM COMPOUND/ SECLUDED HUT - DAY
Fatima sits in a stuffy hut with several other girls, chatting quietly. They’re all dressed in Islamic hijab dresses. From the hut, Fatima and the girls can vaguely see the military men as they arrive. Guarding the hut, armed, is ZAZA (19yrs, girl, tall).
BEAT.
Fatima stands up from the crowd and slowly approaches Zaza, who is sta-tioned at the door holding an AK47.The girls are astonished by her bravery. Scared. The room quiets.
ZAHEERA (whispers)
Sit down. Are you stupid?
FATIMA (hands raised)
Hey Zaza girl, don’t shoot please. I need the toi-let.
Zaza turns around, startled, aiming the machine gun at a frightened Fatima.
34
ZAZAWHAT?
The girls moan collectively, fearing the worst. Some look away.
FATIMAI’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I need the toilet please. Just here in the bushes, where you can see me. I’m pressed.
ZAZAYou’ve got a nerve, bitch. You’ve got balls. Hurry up. Do it right there and don’t try anything funny.
She points to a tree beside an old zinc drum.
EXT. BOKO HARAM COMPOUND - DAY
ZAZA (conti’d)Hurry up.
FATIMAThank you.
Fati walks and squats down. She looks up, forcing a smile at Zaza.
FATIMA (conti’d)Hey Zandi, just between you and me, I kinda miss you, cousin. We haven’t spoken in a while – like a real conversation.
Zaza rolls her eyes and looks away.
FATIMA (conti’d)Remember my birthday party, in class. You brought me peanuts and raisins, forgetting that I’m al-lergic ... That was funny.
35
A disinterested Zaza aims her weapon at her.
ZAZAIt’s Zaza. Stand up and get back inside!
FATIMAC’mon Za, we’re practically cousins. Our moms were raised under one roof… They work together at Bhemba Dry Cleaners... We’re … or were, best friends. Let’s chat a bit, girl, like we used to. We're alone, no one has to know.
Zaza steps closer to inspect if she’s urinated. She shoves her aside to see.
There’s a small puddle.Fatima stands, straitening herself out.
ZAZABack inside, now.
FATIMAC’mon, this isn’t you, Zandile. You’re a sweet girl from Chibok Village. We’re buddies. Please my friend!
Zaza shoves the barrel of the gun in Fati’s chest.
ZAZAGet your ass back inside before I hurt you, Fati.
FATIMAOuch! You still remember my name, yes! You’re still ... you. There's something I wanna talk to you about...
ZAZAIf you don’t stop talking, I WILL KILL YOU. Now go.
A deflated Fati walks back.
FATIMAZaza, please. You need my help, I need yours.
36
Zaza pokes the gun hard in Fati’s spine, causing Fati to scream and fall on the ground. Terrified murmurs sound from inside the hut, but none dares to come out and check.
ZAZAStand up and get back inside.
A defeated Fati pulls herself together, and stands. She drags herself back inside the hut.
Zaza stands guard again, irritated, with her hands firmly on her
weapon. She stares out at a distance to the commotion and convoy of
cars gathered. Military men are still assembling.
Zaza is thoughtful.
INT. NAIMA’S CAR – NIGHT
Naima, warmly dressed, drives through rain with Lindiwe (58yrs, gor-
geous) who is in a waitress’s uniform.
LINDIWE
Thanks so much for waiting, you’re a God send. I would’ve soaked, waiting for a taxi.
NAIMADon’t mention it.
LINDIWE (giggles)
I owe you three free Cafe Latte’s with cinnamon. Your favourite.
NAIMAReally, no worries.
BEAT.
LINDIWEI live at Gugulethu, 10 minutes away. You can drop me nearby though. It isn’t safe.
37
NAIMANonsense, I’ll drop you at your house. Plus then maybe I can say hi to your husband and kids and ...
LINDIWENo such luck. I'm a loner I’m afraid. Single.
NAIMAReally?
LINDIWEYup. My daughter’s in boarding school in George, with the baby daddy.
NAIMAI see... And you never married?
LINDIWENope, and never wanted to. I know a lot of women lie and say that, but I really didn't. I had other interests. Guess I’m weird like that.
NAIMAWhat other interests, if you don’t mind me asking?
Lindiwe briefly throws a suspicious look at her again, but hides.
LINDIWEIt’s fine. Self-sustaining agriculture. I'd teach poor old women how to farm, make a profit and sus-tain themselves. But then it all collapsed after the drought. Couldn’t revive it, so now I wait bloody tables at an airport. Life, huh?
NAIMAYeah, life’s rough.
BEAT.
NAIMA (conti’d)
So, you only have one daughter?
38
LINDIWEUh huh. A bubbly sixteen-year-old. Feisty little thing. Her name’s Aviwe.
NAIMAOnly one child?
LINDIWEYup. My house’s straight ahead, dear, at the cul de sac. You’re an angel.
NAIMAAnd you’re full of shit.
Naima pulls over and turns to her.
LINDIWE (shocked)
Excuse me?
NAIMAYour sixteen-year-old isn’t your first born, is she? What happened to Aviwe’s older sister? She should be around thirty-six now.
Lindiwe turns to Naima fully, confused, scared almost.
LINDIWEWhat?
NAIMAI’m right aren’t I?
LINDIWE (glassy eyed)
Who … who are you?
NAMIA (trembling, teary eyed)
You left me at a foster home in Khayelitsha, twenty-eight years ago, and you never came back. You said you were just leaving for a few days, un-
39
til you find a job ... No, your exact words were: mommy has to go away for a few days and get money, so that we’d live together in our own place and be happy. You kissed me and asked me to trust you. Funny how I remember it word for word.
Lindiwe covers her mouth in shock. Her eyes start to water.
NAIMA (conti’d) Like an animal, you abandoned your own child. Any-ways I just wanted to tell you that I'm alive... here in Cape Town... and I'm okay – that’s if you even care.
Tears fall down Lindiwe's cheek. She quickly wipes them off but says nothing.
LINDIWEOf course I care.
NAIMA I’m not telling you this to lay some sort of guilt trip, Lindiwe. Just wanted you to know … because I'm going out of town soon, on … on some dangerous work – science research stuff. I thought I should say hi, in case ... before I leave. So, whatever, good night Sis’ Lindiwe.
LINDIWEMy child? Yolanda?
NAIMAThat’s my middle name now. It’s Naima Yolanda Saun-ders.
A trembling Lindiwe pulls a tissue from her bag. She breathes in and out, heavily, trying to compose herself.
LINDIWEI gave you the name Yolanda after my grandmother.
NAIMAIncredible. Okay, I’ve gotta go.
LINDIWE
40
You're so beautiful. You’re a lady.
NAIMAThanks. I've gotta run, Sis’ Lindiwe. You’re home now, so ...
LINDIWEAnd so are you.
NAIMAWhat? No! Okay cheers now. Really.
LINDIWEOkay, okay.
Lindiwe steps out, slowly, into the rain. Still in a daze, she quickly turns back and sticks her head back inside the car.
LINDIWEPlease come see me at work when you return from your trip. Please Yolanda. There’s a lot I need to tell you.
NAIMANow you have something to say to me? Typical. Listen, I didn’t come here to form a bond … or for an apology or explanation or whatever. I just came to … I guess to introduce myself, in a way. Hey, I’m here in Cape Town, I’m alive... that’s it. And it’s Naima.
LINDIWESorry, Naima. Please come see me or give me your address. I’ll come over to you.
NAIMAI’ll see. Shut the door please.
Lindiwe closes the door as Naima speeds off.She drives out, furious, swatting off a defiant tear off her cheek.
41
INT. BOKO HARAM COMPOUND/FATIMA’S HUT - MIDNIGHT
Fatima wakes up out of bed. Snoring beside her is her husband Knight and Zaheera, who is on her far side.Fatima hops off the bed. She wears sneakers, tracksuit pants and a jacket. A pistol sits beside an army beret on a shelf in front of Knight’s head. Fatima grabs a torch which hangs over the doorknob, and heads out.
EXT. BOKO HARAM COMPOUND – MIDNIGHT
Fatima observes the poorly constructed mud and zinc huts, positioned haphazardly on gravel.A quarter moon shines high on up, with clouds sending down a slight drizzle. Fati covers her head with the jacket hoodie. She looks around, ob-serving carefully. She hears howling animals and restless winds at a distance as she walks on. Her stare is fixed on the front main gates. She nervously tip-toes past a few huts, past the toilets, towards the gate.Zaza and another male guard are stationed in a tiny security booth, dozing, with their firearms on them, oblivious to the mini CD player sounding reggae tunes.A frightened Fati slowly peeks her head in and scans it all. There are cigarette buds, bottles of beer and left-over food on the ground. She’s terrified.She steps back, switches her torch off and returns back towards her room, as quietly as possible. She tip-toes past the huts again, contemplative. She steps back inside her little hut.
INT. FATIMA’S HUT – MIDNIGHT
Both Zaheera and Knight are still snoring. Fatima tip toes around the bed to a chair which is already at the corner of the room. Slowly and with precision, she stands on the stool without taking her eyes off her sleeping partners. Knight is in Lala-land, with his pistol at a reachable distance. Fatima stretches her arm up to the ceiling, at a hole inside a thick cement brick. She slowly descends back down, with a plastic packet in hand, still focused on her sleeping husband. He’s snoring away.When she turns to inspect Zaheera, Fatima finds her wide eyed, staring square at her, without moving an inch. A startled Fatima stares back like a deer caught in headlights. They share a long stare.Fatima blows her a kiss, and slides out the hut again.
42
INT. SECURITY BOOTH - MIDNIGHTIt’s raining down hard. Both guards are in front of her now, still dozing off, with their machine guns close by. A terrified Fati watches them thoughtfully, growing angry.Zaza’s Micro UZI machine gun lays on her lap, unattended to. The other guard has his tucked away to his far side, with a set of keys protrud-ing from his jeans pockets.Fati eyes both guns, calculating. She quickly grabs Zaza’s weapon and aims it at her. Zaza’s still passed out. Fati pulls the rifle strap over her shoulder. She holds both her knife and the UZI machine gun, aiming at them both, swivelling.Without taking her eyes off Zaza, she leaves Zaza’s gun, stretches and grabs the other guard’s weapon also. She’s visibly scared, sweating and trembling. She holds two machine guns, strapped over her head.Fati steps closer to the male guard, draws her knife and slices the soldier’s throat from the back of his neck to the front. Blood squirts immediately. As he wakes, Fati then punctures a hole on the other side of his neck. Blood rushes out profusely as he tries to rise, pressing on his bloody neck, dazed, mumbling something.Zaza wakes up, staring at Fati, who has an automatic multi shot rifle aimed at her. The guard drops, dead.Zaza gives Fati the most threateningly evil look, ready to pounce at her.
FATIMADon’t even try it. Don't you move Zaza or it'll be the last thing you do. I have nothing to lose. I’ll blow your brains all over this booth. DO NOT MOVE!
Fati quivers, shoving the dead guard’s keys in her jacket pocket. Her hands rattle incessantly, though her finger remains on the trigger.
ZAZA (spitting)
You'll never get away with this. Where you gonna run to, genius?
FATI
Hand me your compass, now. Give me your bloody com-pass!
ZAZA
I don't fear death, bitch. I’m dead already.
43
FATI
Don’t try anything, Za. I’ll kill you like I did your friend. Just give me your fucking compass!
Zaza stares blankly at Fati.
FATI
(raises the knife)
I won't ask again.
Zaza doesn’t flinch.
Fati jams a knife deeply in Zaza’s leg. She also shuts Zaza’s mouth simultaneously, muffling her screaming.
FATIMA
Shhhh.
Zaza quickly pulls a compass from her pocket.
As Fati takes it, she punches a second hole in the back in the back of Zaza’s right hand, grabbing her mouth again.
Zaza yells painfully under Fati’s hand.
Fati grabs a miniature kitbag which houses some of their empty beer bottles.
As a parting gift, she rams Zaza’s head with the back of the gun, knocking her light out.
Fati steps out into the rain and glances back at the sombre compound.
She has a bag and two heavy machine guns strapped over her as she un-locks two huge locks at the bottom and top of the gate.
She exits and runs for her life.
INT. CHAPEL – NIGHT
44
Naima sits anxiously in a dark confession booth. On the other side,
listening in, is a warmly dressed Pastor John Landry (68yrs, spec-
tacles). He wears a jacket over his pyjamas, drinking hot tea.
NAIMA
I’m trying to love and forgive her and all that,
Mark 12 verse 31 - but I’m struggling to, Pastor. I
hate her for what she did.
PASTOR JOHN
I understand. You’re hurt my child. More specific-
ally because she’s your mother. Remember though
that we aren’t sinners because we sin. We sin be-
cause we’re sinners. We are born into sin. It’s who
we are, but we fight against it through the word of
God. You’re as worthy of forgiveness as your mother
is. St Paul persecuted and murdered Christians. Not
only did God forgive and speak to him directly, but
Paul wrote half of the New Testament. Forgive her,
Naima, and marry this boy you speak of. Sex outside
the boundaries of marriage is another deadly sin.
NAIMA (sits back, in deep thought)
Knew you’d say that. Thanks, Pastor John. You’ve
given me a lot to think about. There’s a bit more I
have to repent for, but I’ll see you when I get
back.
PASTOR
Whenever you’re ready. Have a blessed and safe trip
Naima.
BEAT.
45
Naima sits in the booth, thoughtful, as Pastor John steps out.
EXT. ABANDONED TRAIN TRACKS - MORNING
It’s drizzling. Anthony holds a steadily fixed sniper rifle, targeted at a mansion’s front door. He sits hidden at an inclined position, fo-cused on a particular mansion at a distance.
Two parked motorbikes stand beside him.
EXT. SUBURBAN NEIGHBOURHOOD - MORNING
Naima is jogging down the road, wearing an earpiece. She’s in a black tracksuit, complimented by gloves, shades and a cap. She breathes heavily, jogging along slowly.
Anthony wears the same earpiece device around his ear.
ANTHONY
Garage door’s opening, over.
NAIMA
Copy, I see it.
A black X5 model BMW reverses, driven by a hefty man. Another person sits at the back with what looks to be a newspaper on his lap.
Anthony watches him intently through his rifle scope. His finger on the trigger.Naima jogs slowly, also observing the car. Her gaze swivels, scanning around for on lookers.The car reverses.
Naima approaches, ready to pull a weapon out ... when an eight-year-old boy, topless, comes running out from the garage. He has a colour-ful book, eager for attention. He runs to the back of the SUV to chat with the driven occupant.
ANTHONY
Not now, not now, hold, over.
NAIMA
Roger.
46
Naima walks slowly to the other side of the road. She’s within 20 metres, in front of the car, acting tired, with her hands on her hips.A nanny stands beside the garage door waiting impatiently for the young man. She stands by the door, sheltered from the drizzle.
NANNY
Come on Khaya, you still need to brush your teeth and eat. Let’s go.
The nanny watches Naima curiously as the kid runs back in the house. She doesn’t take her eyes off the mysterious jogger.
NAIMA
Now!
Naima turns back, facing the car fully now. She pulls two hand grenades out her side jacket pockets, pulls the pins out with her teeth and rolls them under the car.BOOM!! BOOM!! The car flips to one side, with smoke and car engine fragments every-where. The nanny screams, taking cover.Anthony fires at the SUV’s back window, shattering it open. Naima holds a 9mm Glock Beretta to her side. She looks around, weary of on-lookers. She walks gracefully to the back of the vehicle.Both occupants are in a daze, coughing, groining, moaning, trying to undo their seatbelts.
Naima crouches down and sticks her arm in, unmindful of shattered glass. She fires a single shot in the backseat occupant’s skull.
He slumps to one side, dead.She aims at the driver but can’t find a clear shot.
NAIMA
I don’t have a clear shot. I’m going around.
ANTHONY
Copy, go. You’re safe.
47
Naima pulls her arm out. She stands and shoots the already shattered sunroof of the car.
The bleeding driver is still dazed from the explosion. He sees Naima and shakes his head, pleading.
Naima pulls the trigger.
She turns around swiftly and hides her weapon in her jacket as if noth-ing happened. She scans the horizon once more.
The coast is clear.
She jogs off at three quarter pace, and disappears back into the bushes.
48