There was nothing else Aunty prophetess could have done. She had to inform Debola’s mother. When she came and was made to understand what was happening to her daughter, she wailed uncontrollably. Debola needed someone to stay with her in the hospital. Aunty Prophetess would have gladly stayed with her but she needed to rest or she would get into the same problem as Debola. Moreover, after speaking with Jay, she knew there was a big problem. Jay didn’t want to hear about Debola again. He sounded scared at the mention of her name.
It was clear that the wise men’s prayer didn’t work. She doubted if anything would work for Debola. There are people like that. It could also be that those spiritual things wouldn’t work on Jay.
Her mind raced back to her school days at the university. That was more than twenty years ago. There was a roommate of hers who tried to strengthen a relationship. She failed woefully.
She was in an eight-man room with some ‘happening babes’ who spent money as if it was going out of fashion. The few evenings they spent in the hostel, they would regale the other girls with tales of their escapades. As at that time, those happening babes were travelling to the UK as if they were going to their village.
Trish, for that was the unlucky roommate’s name, was lying on her bunk one morning, when their ‘big girls’ roomies returned after more than a week outside the campus. She didn’t feel like talking, so, she pretended to be asleep. They also didn’t try to wake her up. To them, Trish was local, she didn’t measure up to their standard. They ignored her and gisted. Trish, unknown to them, listened in. It was then she learnt that those men picking their bills weren’t doing it of their own will. The girls were manipulating men with the aid of spiritual powers.
No wonder they were turning those rich men round their little fingers and making so much money from them! She learnt their trade secret.
A little plan started to build up in Trish’s mind. Those girls weren’t more beautiful than her. If they could get those rich men, she should be able to also. She knew what to do. Few days later, she approached one of the girls.
Dayo, unlike others, was friendly. She found herself alone with Dayo one day. They got talking and she stylishly steered their conversation towards how they got men to do their bidding and where they got the powers to do so. Trish told her the simple truth: she was jealous of their lifestyle and would like to join them. Dayo, conspirationally, told her all she wanted to know. She told Dayo that she had a very rich guy who had been helping her but she wanted the guy to spend more on her. Dayo told her to visit one baba…
Few days later, Trish set out very early in the morning. She got to the baba’s house around 7am. The house -a bungalow-was unmistakable. Right in front were coffins, stacked on each other in three rows, for sale. Trish was not deterred: only the lion-hearted could acquire wealth, she reasoned. She went into the ungated compound and asked for baba. She was brought before baba, who was seated, shirtless, in a sparsly furnished sitting room.
After exchanging greetings, baba sought to know her mission.
“Baba, look at me. Am I not beautiful? Am I not attractive? Baba, why are men not giving me enough money? I want you to help me so that men can be dashing me plenty money,” she told the baba.
“What did you bring for the gods?” The baba asked.
Trish’s mind blanked out for a moment. She had a total of one hundred and seventy naira on her. Her student bank account had a little over five hundred naira in it. At that point, she needed to make photocopies worth almost three hundred naira. Her parents and siblings were in Benin. They were managing to eke out a living there. She was sponsoring her education and sending stipends to her brothers each time she could afford it. All these flashed through her mind in seconds. So, it was with heavy heart that she opened her handbag and brought out sixty naira and stretched it towards the baba. She wasn’t too sure but she felt she saw something like distaste flash through baba’s face. He collected the money from her and shouted a name. A young boy of about eleven years ran into the sitting room. On his heels were six other younger children, some of them looking like age mates. Trish concluded there were twins among them.
Baba gave the sixty naira to the boy and instructed him to buy forty naira bread and twenty naira cooked beans for their breakfast.
“Make sure you share it accordingly. I don’t want to hear that anybody was cheated. You people should drink enough water. I don’t want to hear any cry about hunger till evening,” baba told the oldest among them.
They all nodded and filed out of the sitting room.
“My daughter, you can see I didn’t keep any of the money you gave to me. I have given all to your junior ones for feeding,” he told Trish.
She nodded and squirmed on her seat. Baba waited for her to say something. She said nothing. She hadn’t eaten, she would still pay her transport back to school out of the one hundred and ten naira left in her bag.
“Em…em…baba, if you do it for me, I’ll come back for thanksgiving,” she said.
Baba contemplated for a moment and asked her, “What exactly do you want?”
“Baba, I want men to be giving me correct money. I want a man that can send me to London on holiday, a man that can take care of my needs,” she said.
“Do you have any man in mind?” He asked.
She thought a bit and said, “Baba, I met one man few weeks ago. He is rich. He has given me some money. I want him to give me more,” she told him.
Baba stared at her for a while and shouted a name. No one answered. Baba shouted again and there was no response.
He stood up and went into a room. He came out with a long cane and a bag.
“These children, the only language they understand is the cane. Since they’ve eaten this morning, you won’t see them again until they are hungry,” he said, sitting down.
He brought out a parcel from his bag and unwrapped it and looked Trish in the eyes.
“My daughter, I don’t know why I’m giving you this. But my spirit says I should,” he said, taking up a folded paper from the parcel.
“When are you visiting the man?” He asked.
“I’m supposed to see him today,” she said.
“Where are you seeing him,” Baba asked.
“His house sir. I know his house,” she said.
“Perfect. When you get to a place where there is an interception of three roads, unwrap this and say whatever you want and blow the powder in the three road directions. Call his name three times. Wrap it and keep the remaining in your bag. The powder inside is enough for four times,” he said.
Trish was excited. She beamed and said, “Thank you Baba. Thank you sir. I will come back to say thank you,” she gushed.
She left Baba’s house with a gait. When she got to a place where three roads ‘met’, she brought out the carefully folded paper and did as she was instructed. Then, she went confidently to the man’s house.
When she knocked, the man came out dressed, he was going out. She smiled at him and he frowned. as if he was trying to remember who she was. She was taken aback.
“Good morning,” she said hesistantly.
“Good morning. You can see that I’m on my way out,” he said gruffly.
“But you asked me to come and see you this morning,” she told him.
“Oh, did I? Well, I have a business to attend to,” he said, locking his door carefully and moving to his garage.
“So, when do I see you?” She asked, following him.
“I’ll see you when I’m less busy,” he said.
As she made to open the passenger side of the car door, he looked up and told her, “I’m not going your way.”
Shell-shocked, Trisha stared at him.
Getting herself together, she said, “Okay, you’ll drop me at your most convenient place.
“No, I’m running late for an appointment,” he said, engaging the gear.
“I don’t have enough money to transport me back to school,” she said, running after him.
“You shouldn’t have left your school without enough transport fare,” he said and drove off.
The man’s gateman was at the gate. He observed all that had happened and waited patiently for Trish to leave the compound. Immediately she walked through the gate, he closed the gate with such force that it sounded like finality to Trish. Tears dropped down her cheeks. If she hadn’t gotten greedy, she would still have been getting the little he was giving her….
Prophetess sighed. All these spiritual stuff wouldn’t work for some people. It was obvious it wouldn’t work for Debola. She prayed that Debola would regain her full senses…
Jay was drained emotionally. Of course, what Gabby told him was the truth, he didn’t get married to Adele properly. He didn’t complete the vital part of the marriage ceremony. He was told that as long as he didn’t do it, he was not married to her. It dragged on for years and because of that, they could not go for the church wedding.
Jay held his head. What would he do now? He would have to go visit Adele’s aunt. He would look for a way to complete the marriage rites without Adele’s knowledge.
A plan started taking shape in his mind…
“My woman, I have realised that you’re my missing limb. I can’t seem to live with the fact that you belong to another man. I love you so much. Do you love me?” Bolan asked.
Adele smiled. What a question! If only he knew that he was the best thing that had happened to her in a while. She smiled again and snuggled closer to him. Her body still wanted him, despite the fact that they had had each other twice before dawn. She shivered, for she was unclad. He felt her shivers and drew her to his warm body.
“Do you love me, my woman?” He asked her again.
“Of course, I love you with every part of me that can love a man,” she whispered.
“Then get a divorce and let’s get married,” he whispered into her ears, kissing her and caressing her all over.
Adele went quiet, although her body was responding to his roving hands. She felt him getting turgid and she felt herself creaming. She was inching towards orgasmville again!
“Get a divorce from him and let’s get married,” he said again, pulling her gently on him and kissing her forehead.
“Baby, I don’t need a divorce from him,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean,” Bolan asked.
Adele looked into his eyes and smiled….
Let’s continue this journey on Sunday!
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In every woman is dove, viper
Alone in her room, Adele switched on Jay’s phone. The battery was almost dead. She plugged it to a charger and went to fasten her room door properly.
A phone rang. It was the other phone in the lady’s bag. She took the phone: ‘Aunty prophetess’ calling. She frowned. She dropped the phone on her dressing table and went to take a bath.
Immediately Debola stepped out of Jay’s gate, she realised that she didn’t leave with her handbag. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! She had forgotten to pick it from the dining table, where she placed it when she was searching for the gate key. The fear of Jay’s wife meeting her in her home had eclipsed every other thought from her mind and she had hurried out of the house without her handbag.
The worst part was that she had no dime on her and her phones and house keys were in the bag. What would she do now? How would she leave this vicinity? Going back to Jay’s house was out of it. With his wife in there, it would be suicidal to attempt that. It wasn’t even safe to hang around that vicinity for too long.
She looked around her and noticed two guys in front of the next building watching her. There was no pretense, they had their eyes trained on her. Maybe they saw the manner she slipped out of Jay’s gate, she thought and quickened her steps. Shame washed over her. It was still dark but the street was well lit. They could describe her, if need be. What if they were up to no good? The street was deserted. Once in a while, a vehicle would pull out of a house and head towards the estate gate. She knew she had to leave immediately, but how would she get home? It was still dark a bit, so hitching a ride would be pretty difficult, especially as she wasn’t a resident of the estate.
She moved out of the estate and tried to hitch a ride home. If only she had her phone with her!
The thought of the phone almost gave her a heart attack. Jay’s supposedly lost phone was in her handbag!
The prophetess was confused. She brought out her phone and checked the address Debola sent to her. Yes, she was on the street, and yes, she was standing in front of No. 11. The description fit what Debola sent to her – a pale green one-storey building with very high black roof.
She stared at the building. Could it be that Debola gave her a wrong house address? She doubted it. What could have happened? Was there a change of plan? Debola would have informed her. But…wait, her phone was switched off all night till this morning. There was no way Debola could have gotten across to her. What if Debola was in danger? What if Jay’s wife found her way inside the house and caught her? She shivered. She had warned her not to take a fight to a married woman’s house. She dialed Debola’s number the seventh time and it rang out again. It wasn’t funny anymore. She rang the bell on the gate the second time. She was sure there was a mix up somewhere. Debola must be in there. Maybe the man that came out the first time didn’t understand what she said.
She heard voices and turned. Two men were behind her.
“Who are you looking for?” One of them asked.
The suddenness with which they appeared rattled her. She stared at them. She could make out their faces despite the early morning harmattan haze.
“What do you want?” One of the men asked again.
“I’m er…em…I’m looking for somebody,” she stuttered.
“The somebody doesn’t have a name?” The one that spoke first asked.
“They have names. I just can’t remember,” she said.
It was true. She had suddenly forgotten the names. She couldn’t remember Debola and Jay’s names.
The men laughed.
“You mean you left your house this early in the morning to come look for people you can’t remember their names?” One asked.
“Leave this place immediately or you’ll regret coming here,” the other one said.
The prophetess didn’t wait to be told the second time. She scurried off.
The men laughed and moved back to the entrance of the
building facing Jay’s.
The prophetess retraced her steps to the estate gate. She was worried though. She wasn’t sure she had enough money to pay for her transport fare back home.
When the bell rang again, Adele wondered who could be at the gate that early in the morning. Well, she wasn’t expecting anyone and it’s most unlikely that someone could be looking for her, at least not that early in the morning.
Any visitor at the gate would have come to see Jay. Her phone beeped and she took it. It was a message from Bolan. Instead of replying the text message, she called him.
“Hello dear,” she said.
“My dream. How are you? How did it go? Are you inside the house?” Bolan asked.
She felt the concern in his voice.
“Yes dear. I’m in my room right now. It all went well. We’ll talk later,” she said gently.
“Ok my dream. I love you,” he said.
Adele smiled. Good men abound out there. Bolan was one of the angels among men.
She smiled again and said, “Bolan, you’re very, very dear to my heart. I really appreciate the love and care you’ve shown me. Thank you very much. I’ll call you again soon.”
“You’re welcome my dream. Will be waiting for your call, my love,” he said.
She ended the call immediately because she didn’t trust herself anymore. She had almost told him that she loved him. It was no lie. She had been trying to rein in her feelings for him and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her. As much as she tried to think of positives about her husband, Jay, she kept failing. Each time, only ugly things he’d done would come to come her mind.
She smiled again. Jay felt she was a fool. Maybe she was, really. She laughed. She really would make a good example of a fool. Jay certainly felt so too. To think that they felt she didn’t see the lady that ‘sneaked’ out through the gate as she drove in this morning! She laughed again.
“Adele, are you a fool?” She asked herself.
“Yes I am. No…I’m not,” she said, frowning.
“I’m not a fool. I’m a fool. No, I’m not. Yes, I am…” She argued with herself and burst into laughter.
Men feel that women are fools. But, really, women are no fool s
. They are simply ‘long suffering’. Every woman is a viper and a dove in a relationship. Whichever the man gets depends on what he gives her!
Jay felt he and his bitch of a mistress fooled her this morning. Well, they were in for a shock.
She spread a newspaper on the floor and picked the handbag she saw on her dining table. She emptied its content on the newspaper and used a pen to wade through the lot. There were three tiny bottles with suspiciously looking liquid. One was slimy cream-coloured, another was blackish gray and the third was thick and clear. Her wallet contained her identity card. She picked it and froze. It was the same lady Jay was shopping for when she bumped into them in a boutique not long ago, the same lady Jay brought to the beach to spite her. That was the lady Jay brought into her house!
Debola Adegoke was a waitress in a restaurant. Adele usually had lunch in that branch of the restaurant once in a while! It wasn’t too far from her office.
Hmmmmmmmmmm. To think that she had been at the mercy of that lady each time she went to that restaurant to have lunch!
There w ere
some ‘papers’ among the lot in the bag. She picked them gingerly, spread them out and screamed. Her heart almost stopped beating that instance. The ‘papers’ were photocopies of the house documents. The land Adele bought in her own name and built! How did the document get into the bag of this lady? She checked the other sheaves of papers. They were Jay’s cars documents and few other unimportant papers.
Adele knew she was in trouble. What other things had Jay handed over to his bitch of a woman? His debit card and phone were also in the lady’s bag. So, he had practically handed over his life to her.
Adele realised that she could no longer afford to be docile. The dove would have to make way for the viper!
She took the documents, the lady’s wallet, the phones -both Jay’s and the lady’s- and other vital things and ‘poured’ the remaining things back into the bag and dump it on the floor near the door. The important things she packed into a paper bag and tossed into a drawer in her room.
She made herself a mug of tea, switched on the television set, made herself comfortable on the couch in her room and sipped her tea.
She needed to relax and clear her head. This was the best way she could do that right now.
Jay paced around his room. His mind was in turmoil. How did he get into this deep trouble? Was Debola’s handbag on the dining table or was it a mirage? He was so sure that he saw it. But what happened to it? He cast his mind back to when Debola slipped out through the gate. He wasn’t sure she had her handbag with her. If she didn’t have it with her, it meant she left it in the house and it meant he saw it on the dinner table and it was no longer on the table! He was confused. The thought was confusing too.
He paced around his room. He held his head with his hands, as if to hold it together.
As he moved about his room in pensive a mood, he had the urge to ease himself. He went to the loo.
As he was trying to pass out urine, he felt a hard lump blocking the passage. He shivered. He held his man and gingerly pressed it, trying to push whatever was in it out. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and coursed down his face in the chilly harmattan morning. He pressed delicately on, fear numbing his senses. At that moment, time stood still for him. As the thing got to the tip, he gave one final gentle squeeze and the thing popped into his trembling, waiting palm. As he stared at the object, his eyes rounded like the owl’s. He opened his mouth to scream and no word came out. He closed it and opened it again and nothing came out. Then, he started trembling like cocoyam leaf in a downpour….
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Season drives narrative
dele sat away from the ‘maddening’ crowd, thinking about life, about her hard luck in marriage. She stared into space, not feeling the activities around her. She relived her encounter with her hubby, Jay, and his mistress for the umpteenth time and a wiry smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. She shook her head slowly, trying to shake off the pain. It did work somehow for it seemed that the boulder which lodged at the centre of her heart lifted slowly of its own accord. She pulled herself together, reminding herself that the eye would never weep blood. No matter how painful the ache was, tears would always remain tears, not blood. She came for a birthday party on the beach with her friends; her plan was to relax, relax she would.
She looked around her and her face broke into a smile. It was a beautiful day. She just noticed! She picked out her friends with her eyes. They were dancing to youthful tunes by the very talented Nigerian musicians. Her doctor had recommended dancing as a form of exercise since she was lazy with keeping appointments with her trainer at the gym.
“Since you love music so much, you can dance every morning. Ten minutes of shaking your body every morning will do you good,” her doctor had told her.
Yeah, music is food for the soul. She realised she could make it food for her body too. If she couldn’t get the required dose of ‘adult exercise’ from her hubby, she could keep her body in form by dancing.
She smiled as the beat seeped into her. She nodded her head to the beat for a while, then stood up, dusted her arse and began swaying from side to side as she watched her friends wiggle on the beach sand.
“Oya wo!” The speakers blared and the atmosphere became charged.
“Won ba e wi n’ibi wo! Ma lo se bi ogoro wo!…Oya jo bi mummy wo! Oya jo bi daddy wo! Ma lo jo bi olosi wo!”
She didn’t know the lyrics, she needn’t know what Olamide was ‘spewing’ effortlessly. The rhythm got her, the beat of the song produced by Young John who tagged himself “the wicked producer” was arresting. It reminded her that Nigeria is blessed with talented beat makers, most of whom were not celebrated because the limelight was always beamed on the singers.
“Wo! Life is short like knickers…” The speakers blared.
The song got the better of her and she found herself gravitating towards her friends who were dancing with abandon. She slung her messenger bag over her head, across her chest. In no time, she was in the midst of her friends, twisting and turning to youthful beats.
She didn’t mind if she was dancing in or out of tune. Who cared? She closed her eyes and twisted her waist, bending as low as her almost stiff knees could allow her without aching. Yeah, she needed to dance more to make her joints more pliable. She shuffled to the beat. No one cared, everyone was dancing.
How wrong she was! Few metres away, two pairs of eyes were trained on her. They twisted their necks at odd angles to get a better view of her as she weaved in and out of her crowd of friends.
Of course, Adele was oblivious to the eyes that followed her every move. She had just discovered a world where only her existed. Her worries and fears dissipated as she twisted and turned.
She opened her eyes slowly as she felt the pressure on her arm increased. It was Blossom.
“What’s it, sis? I’m having a swell time here,” Adele laughed.
“I can see that, dear sis. But turn slowly and look towards your left. Don’t stop dancing. Pretend you didn’t notice any thing,” Blossom told her quietly.
“What’s it?” Adele asked, slowing down her steps.
“No sis, don’t stop dancing. Dance on. Just look towards your left…” Blossom said.
Adele did as she was told, casually twisting to her left. For a fleeting moment, she lost her balance but regained it immediately. She smiled at Blossom and began to wiggle her waist vigorously to the beats. She raised her hands and tried some moves that her shy self would only have done in the confines of her bedroom, with her mirror as the only spectator.
“That’s the spirit, my dear sis. Shame those who plan to shame you dear,” Blossom told her.
Adele smiled. She wasn’t pretending. She was enjoying herself.
“Let him stew on his arse. I can’t kill myself because of a hubby who doesn’t remember I exist. If he could bring his mistress to a place I told him I would be, then, there’s no reason I should continue to cry. As for the mistress, hmmmmmmm, I pity her. The cane the husband used in flogging the first wife is hung at the door, waiting for the new wife. I really have nothing against her. River Ulasi does not swallow whose feet she didn’t see,” Adele said stoically, threw back her head and laughed out loud.
Blossom joined and the two friends danced into the crowd.
“You’re such a good dancer. Very youthful. I watched you dance,” Bolan told Adele.
It was about an hour later. The merrymakers were seated and feasting on well prepared meals and choice wines.
“Oh ho? Me good dancer? I was just shuffling on the dance floor,” Adele said, twinkle in her eyes.
“I love your dance steps. Very mature moves,” Bolan said.
“So, instead of dancing, you were busy watching an old lady do some clumsy steps in the sand?” Adele asked with laughter.
“Hey! You ain’t an old lady and your steps weren’t clumsy. I wasn’t the only one watching you. A couple was also watching you. The man became so enamored by your moves that his wife quarreled with him. I was amused. It wasn’t funny,” Bolan said.
They laughed. Adele had an idea who the ‘couple’ would have been. No other than her hubby and his mistress! She has seen them too. She laughed loud and long.
She looked around. What if her hubby was still around? What if he saw her sitting and talking comfortably with a man? Would he leave his mistress and come for her? She felt uneasy. She also felt that jay would not leave his mistress and come for her. It was obvious that they were too attached to each other. She felt a heaviness in her heart.
“Adele, can we have dinner, just you and I? I really need to talk to you…you alone,” Bolan asked her, dragging her back to the present.
She paused and looked deep into his eyes and looked away. This was the first time they were this close to each other. What she saw in his eyes jarred her. She felt a lump in her throat.
“Not today,” she rasped, for her voice failed her.
Her eyes stung. She prayed that the dam wouldn’t break.
“I know. We can have it tomorrow or Monday since it’s a public holiday. We can even do lunch. Just pick the one that’s most convenient for you. Do this for me dear,” he said soberly.
“It’s okay. Let’s talk about it later. Will make out time either tomorrow or the day after. Will inform you,” she said briskly, trying to mask her feelings.
“As your Lordship pleases, my dear,” he said.
She lost control. The tears came rolling down her cheeks and she cursed under her breath. Had she been so broken that she couldn’t control her feelings in public anymore?
Bolan was alarmed. He gathered her his arms. She hid her face in her palms and sobbed on his chest. He held her loosely and allowed her to sob. It was better she purge her mind of whatever was bothering her. He patted her back. That was the first time he had gotten this close to her. He buried his face in her hair. She smelt so fresh and sweet. He brushed his lips on her hair at intervals as he rocked her. Gawd! He was in love with this woman!
When she had ceased heaving against his chest, she raised her head and managed a smile as she looked into his face. Her eyeliner had smudged in places.
He kissed the tears on her face and tasted salt. He smiled and brushed his lips lightly on hers.
She smiled into his face, a genuine smile that it up her face and flooded his heart with sugary feelings.
“You want to talk about it?” He asked her.
She shook her head.
“It’s okay dear. Just get yourself together,” he said gently.
He put his palm under her chin and lifted her face. She looked into his eyes. Her eyes were still shining with residue tears…
He brought down his face and their lips locked briefly.
He felt her stiffen and withdrew. He wanted to kiss her until she yielded but held himself back. He needn’t rush it. He wanted her and would get her in due time.
Adele’s mind was in turmoil. That brief kiss fired her body awake. She was almost weak at the knees! She was grateful that he went no further. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to resist him if he had pushed just a wee harder.
“Touch up your face dear,” he said.
His voice was a bit hoarse and deeper. It added to his sexiness.
Adele brought out a mirror and wipe from her bag and cleaned the smudges around her eyes.
“Better?” She asked him.
“Best,” he responded.
She smiled at him and felt very happy.
“Let’s go and dance dear,” he said.
She smiled. He smiled also….
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ethered on trees far back into the compound were goats and rams of different sizes. Towards their right was what appeared like a market. People were milling about, minding their businesses. The compound wasn’t bounded. Their eyes could travel miles.
Debola stared at the receding back. She was rooted to a spot. Her mind searched…that back looked vaguely familiar. She didn’t know that Aunty prophetess had taken a few steps away from her. Not until the prophetess came back to nudge her did she collect herself.
“What’s the problem with you? We have to be fast here. We have a time consuming task before us and we must be fast about it. We’re not the only people coming to see the wise ones. If we’re fast enough, we’ll be done on time,” the prophetess said.
“So what do we do first?” Debola asked her.
“We buy the goat first,” the prophetess said, drawing her to the livestock section of the boundless market.
A young man approached them and told them that he was detailed to take care of their needs. He was dressed in an Ankara shirt and trousers. Within one hour, they were done with their purchases and were taken to a secluded part of the vast compound. A small slaughter slab was to the left while further down the right, was a wooden door.
“You will watch as they slaughter the goat. As that is being done, you will be praying for what you’re here for,” their guide told them.
Debola nodded. The prophetess thanked the youngman who had offered them a bench to sit on, about 50 metres from the slaughter slab. A young man with a short machete came and knelt before them and Debola almost screamed in terror.
The prophetess nudged her and whispered, “Bless him with money. He’s the one to slaughter your sacrificial goat”.
Debola dipped a shaking hand into her bag and pulled out some naira notes. She didn’t even bother to count. She thrust them into the outstretched hands of the young man.
“May your prayers be answered,” the young man said and moved to the goat.
They watched as the youngman, with the help of two other men, slaughtered and cleaned the goat, then cut it up into cooking pot friendly chunks.
After that, Debola was shown a space where she prepared the vegetable soup for the gods.
The most tedious part was when she had to pound the yam. She was tired but she had to do it because she was told that no other hands must touch the meal she was making for the gods.
She sweated profusely while pounding the yam. She had to ensure that sweat didn’t drop into the mortar and she also wasn’t allowed to clean it. She flung her head this way and that, to ensure sweat didn’t drop into the mortar. As the pestle hit the paste in the mortar, she prayed fervently in her mind.
Aunty prophetess observed her from a safe distance. She didn’t offer to help her. She couldn’t have helped even if she wanted to, because it was Debola’s cross and she must carry it alone, the wise ones had instructed.
When she was done, she was made to serve the wise ones, who had gone back to their original positions on the stools under the tree.
Aunty prophetess and Debola sat on the bench and watched the wise ones eat the delicious meal. As they swallowed morsel after morsel, they prayed for Debola. She had been told to be praying for whatever she wanted as the food travelled down the throats of the wise ones. She was doing just that, fervently, the saddening news she received earlier not withstanding: she was told that she wasn’t going to partake of the mouth watering meal she deployed her culinary expertise to prepare. She was tired but she didn’t mind. She was hungry and thirsty too.
“Please sir, can we drink water?” Debola ventured to ask with a shaky voice.
The wise ones had finished eating. They were smacking their tongues and picking bits and pieces of the meat from between their brown, ancient teeth.
“Oh yes, why not?” The oldest of the wise ones said with gusto. He shouted someone’s name and a young man sauntered out from the backyard, his hand smeared with oil. Debola needed not to be told that he was among those feasting on her delicious sacrificial meal.
“Please get our visitors water to drink,” the old man told him.
He nodded and went back in. He came back moments later with two packs of sachet water in his bare hands.
Debola’s suspicion was confirmed: the water smelt of vegetable soup she prepared with goat meat. Her tummy churned, she was hungry!
She and the prophetess accepted the water with appreciation and drank.
By the time they left that village in the evening, they were almost fainting. At the bus park, they bought whatever edible bits they could find and wolved them down with soft drinks: they were ravenously hungry.
In Debola’s bag were the things she was given -a cup of solid black soap which she must bath with every morning and night, and a black eyeliner, which she was asked to apply whenever she was going to see the man of her dreams.
She smiled as she patted the carefully wrapped charms in her handbag.
Jay was a sitting duck. By the time she was through with him, he would have been turned into her zombie. She smiled.
She turned to Aunty prophetess and struck up a conversation as they waited for the stationwagon to fill up with passengers.
By the time the last passenger entered the vehicle and the driver pulled out of the park on their return journey to Lagos, they were deep in conversation.
“Aunty, you’re joking, right? Tell me you’re pulling my legs,” Debola said.
“How can I be joking? Am I not a human being? You think I don’t have feelings, that I don’t need a man in my life? Do you think I was growing younger all these years? Wise up girl! I have always been in need of a man and had been seriously searching for one. Providence dropped one on my waiting laps,” aunty prophetess said.
Wide eyed, Debola stared at her.
She had known aunty prophetess for more than six years. They met in a worship centre where she had gone for prayers. Aunty prophetess was one of the ‘seers’ in that worship centre. She had given Debola a message about her past that was true. Debola was impressed. She adopted the prophetess as her personal ‘seer’. Debola did nothing without her approval. Unfortunately, the few times Debola didn’t consult her and acted independently, she failed woefully. She almost lost her life the last time, when she forced her way into Jay’s house and tried to install herself in his house and life as his wife. She shuddered as she remembered her ordeal in the kidnappers’ den.
“Are you feeling cold?” Aunty prophetess asked her.
“No, I’m not. It’s just that what you’re telling me is unbelievable,” she said.
“What’s strange about a woman desiring a man and getting pregnant for him?” She asked Debola.
“You are not married to the man and you’re pregnant for him,” Debola said.
“Men are everywhere but not all are ready for marriage. So, once you get one that’s responsible enough, you grab him with both hands,” the prophetess said.
“How did you get him? How come I found it so difficult to tie Jay down? You’re supposed to help me get a man. Instead, you got yourself one,” Debola said sadly.
“You think it was easy to get this man? I moved! I had to do a number of things. He didn’t drop on my laps,” the prophetess said.
That was too much for Debola to assimilate. She stared at the prophetess, mouth agape.
“What didn’t I do?” She managed to ask.
“It’s isn’t about what you didn’t do. It’s about what you did. I warned you not to attempt to take over another woman’s house forcefully. But it’s okay. Now you met with the wise ones, your prayers have been answered. It was after I prepared my sacrificial food for the gods that I netted my man,” the prophetess said.
Debola stared ahead of her. She still didn’t understand why a seer would need a seer. Anyway…Jay was in trouble. After charming him, she would lead him by the nose. She smiled, yet, she felt uneasy. Something about what she saw in the wise men’s compound, or someone she saw there! She couldn’t just place her finger on it….
Two days later, a provocatively-dressed Debola was seated on the couch in Jay’s office. She would have been here yesterday but she needed to rest. The previous day’s journey was tiring. She didn’t realise how energy-sapping the ritual was until she woke up yesterday morning and couldn’t move a limb.
She smiled. She had taken her time to dress up today. Though a discerning eye would notice the baby bump, she still squeezed herself into a bandage gown.
She smiled and batted her eyelids as Jay observed her at intervals. He was seated on his executive chair. He hadn’t made any move to leave his seat.
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“What’s wrong with your eyes?” He asked her.
Debola smiled as sugary feelings coursed through her body. Yeah! She’d enamoured him already! She batted her eyelids at him again. Jay stared at her and went back to what he was calculating on his phone. After a while, he darted her a look again and realised her eyes were trained on him. He squirmed on his seat. Debola rolled her eyes at him. He forced himself back to what he was calculating on his phone.
He felt a slight movement and looked up. Debola had just finished rummaging in her handbag. She dragged herself up from the couch. She was rolling her eyes and batting her eyelids at the same time as she moved to the convenience.
Immediately the door closed behind her, she danced silently in jubilation. She had got him! Her charms were working on him! Yippeeeeeee!!!
She quickly dabbed a fresh layer of the charmed eyeliner on her eyelids. She had taken it from her handbag. After today, Jay would be tailing her like housefly on palmwine trail. She looked into the mirror above the sink and smiled with satisfaction. She turned the tap on and off to create the impression that she had used the water cistern and smiled. Now, to go for the kill! She opened the door and literally sailed to her handbag, dropped the charmed eyeliner and turned towards him.
Jay stared at her. As she moved towards him, fluttering her eyelashes, he stood up. She smiled at him and reached out to touch him. Jay looked into her eyes and felt like he was drowning in a river. She smiled at him and he shrieked, dodged her outstretched arms and ran out of the office…
Adele was learning to walk without assistance. The sprained ankle had slowed her down and she needed to get back to work, but her boss would hear none of it. While she was out of office, she had been working from home and her boss had realised that she could work from anywhere…
Bolan had been secretive the past few days…in fact since he asked for the data page of her international passport about a week ago. She had watched him and wondered if something was amiss. She had decided to move back to her house. Bolan had always been open to her. But these days, there were times he would walk away to answer calls. It was strange. She decided she would talk to him today.
When he came home that evening, he didn’t look her in the eyes even when he gave her a somewhat perfunctory kiss.
“We need to talk,” he told her.
His voice was grave. Her heart sunk. It was obvious the honeymoon was over. He threw a slim envelope on her laps and went to sit on a bar stool. They were in his private sitting room in his house.
She tore open the envelope and slipped out two sheets of paper, eyes blinded by tears. She couldn’t read what was there; tears would not let her.
Bolan was beside her before she knew it.
“My woman, I have an urgent business in Dubai. I have to travel. I can’t leave you here alone. So I made the arrangements. Since you still have about a week off, we’ll travel together. We’ll be away for just five days,” he said, adding, “We leave in two days time, at the beginning of the two-day Sallah holiday.”
Adele stared at him. Gawd! Are there still men like Bolan? She burst into tears, she had been so afraid she was about to lose the only man that had shown her so much love!
He scooped her into his arms, kissed her all over and divested her of every item of dressing on her…
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Go suck a lemon
Debola could not believe her ears.
Aunty prophetess was pregnant! So, she was hunting for a man too?
“You’ve been praying for me for over five years and nothing happened despite my despiration,” Debola said.
“That is the problem. That desperation has cost you a lot. Let me tell you, everything we achieved in the past five years has been wiped away by your desperation. Do you know for how long I prayed and waited before I got this man? Do you know the number of trips I made to the wise ones? Do you know how much I spent?” She asked a dumbfounded Debola.
“Wise ones? You consult the wise ones while I consult you?” She asked her.
“Have you not seen a doctor being treated by other doctors?” Prophetess asked.
Debola sighed audibly and suddenly, her face lit up.
“Can you take me to the wise ones?” She asked.
Aunty prophetess observed her for a while and said slowly, “If you are ready, I’ll take you. But, have it at the back of your mind that you’ll spend a lot of money.”
“I’m ready. I’m ready to do anything. I can’t allow Jay to slip out of my life. I can’t start looking for a man all over again. Moreover, I’m pregnant for him. He’s wealthy. He’ll give me the kind of life I’ve always desired,” Debola said.
They had discussed some more and agreed on a date. The wise ones lived in a village in a neighbouring state. Prophetess promised to get Debola an appointment with the wise ones. After four days, she called Debola and told her what it would cost her to see them. She was more than ready.
On the set date, they set out very early in the morning. They were in the bus park before 5am. After more than two hours of steady bus ride, they alighted at a motor park in a sleepy village. They boarded two bikes which took them through footpaths to a compound set well back in what appeared like a bush. An old bungalow stood in the middle of the large compound. Debola was scared but prophetess assured her that no harm would come to her.
The wise ones were five old men who looked Debola up and down, as if sizing her up. They were seated on stools under a leafy tree few metres away from the gate. There were two empty benches facing them. The visitors knelt down in greeting. One of them, he appeared the oldest, asked them to sit down on a bench. Debola made to sit but the prophetess drew her back to her knees. She then thanked the wise ones and tabled Debola’s case before them, her face cast down.
The oldest of them, with rheumy eyes, cleared his throat and spat on the sandy ground, between his legs. With his left shrivelled foot, he mixed the phlegm with the red sand.
“See men all around you. A crowd of men are all over you. You wonder why none has married you? You have a spirit husband that is chasing them away. Unless you settle your spirit husband, no man will dare marry you,” he said in a somewhat calm, tiny tone.
Debola stared at the prophetess. She dared not look at the pairs of ancient eyes which she was sure were boring into her.
“Baba, she came prepared sir,” prophetess said in a low tone.
“Your prayers are answered,” the baba said.
“Amen,” Debola and the prophetess chorused.
“Sit down,” the old man said.
Only then did the prophetess draw Debola up. They sat on the stool.
“You need a goat, a live goat, which you will kill and use the meat to prepare vegetable soup and pounded yam for the gods,” the baba said.
Debola was confused. Kill a goat? Where would she get that one?
“Thank you baba. She’s ready to do it,” the prophetess said.
“Remember, she must not wipe off sweat from her face while she pounds the yam and her sweat must not drop into the mortar,” the old man said.
Debola was almost not breathing again. She didn’t know if she was scared of the chore before her or in awe of the old men. She stared at the ground. Even when she felt that the old men were leaving, she didn’t look up.
When the prophetess drew her up later, both the old men and their stools were not in sight.
“Where do I get a goat? Where do I get the foodstuff to prepare the food? Who will kill the goat?” The questions tumbled out of her mouth.
“Relax, you’ll get everything in this compound,” prophetess said, leading her to the back of the building.
Debola stared in amazement as they turned the corner and then, fear gripped her…
Jay didn’t know whether to dance or cry. The business deal he pitched for about eight months ago had finally scaled through. That was the new lease of life he needed. Once he was able to complete it, he would swim in dizzying wealth which would run into multiples of millions of naira. That was the biggest deal he had ever dreamt of. He scattered the documents on his bed and danced round them. All the documents were intact. Once this money got into his bank account, he could to go on vacation for many years. Once again, he went through the details again, this time, meticulously. Everything was perfect. It called for celebration. He pulled out a bottle of fizz and popped it. The Brut tasted so sweet in his mouth! Of course, he knew it was the sweet taste of success. He was halfway through the bottle when the thought hit him: it was Adele’s bank details they’d used to pitch for the job! He felt the sour taste of the Brut immediately. Payments for the deal would be made into her bank account, not his. He sat down, thud! Adele had him where it would hurt most. He would have to go crawling to her or he’d be doomed forever! After what he did to her? Could he be under a curse? Why would sadness dog his every joy? Then it hit him! One night many, many years ago, he was still living in the village with his paternal grandparents, that night…
He shivered and broke out it cold sweat. His palms became clammy…
Adele was on the phone with her children. It was a conference call. They were talking politics.
Adele listened to them but her mind was mulling another issue. A large amount had been paid into her account. It was payment for a contract she helped Jay to secure. Without her efforts, he wouldn’t have gotten that job and she funded more than eighty per cent of it. As much as she knew that Jay didn’t deserve her mercy, going by all the pain he had inflicted on her physically, emotionally and psychologically, he needed that money to survive. How would she sleep peacefully, knowing she was holding on to another man’s joy? She dared not tell her children about it. Going by the way they were feeling right now, they would not support her extending any help to their father.
After the convo with her children, she hopped to the private dining room to join Bolan at breakfast. There were two entrances to that dining room -from the corridor and from Bolan’s room.
“Oh no! I told you to call me so I could come and carry you here, my woman,” Bolan said as he sighted her.
He was up and beside her immediately. He made her comfortable on the chair and kissed her deeply.
“I’m becoming a big liability to you and I don’t like it,” She said, kissing him back.
“Hey love, my desire is to turn you into my master and I’ll be your slave for the rest of our lives. I love you with everything in me that can love a woman. Believe me, you don’t have to work for the rest of your life. I’ll take care of your needs, including those of your children, if you’d allow me,” Bolan whispered into her ears.
Adele closed her eyes as joy washed over her. Gawd, she loved this man. Everything about him spelt joy to her. They could talk for hours and laugh; they could be in each other’s arms without saying a word for hours and be so happy. They could communicate with their eyes. She felt wetness in her cave of wonder and smiled. It’s either she ate her breakfast right now or it would turn cold while she was being eaten.
Suddenly, she had an urge to live her secret desire. With Bolan, she could let go and be the seductress that she secretly wanted to be behind closed door.
“Lock the door, my Prince,” she told him.
She could not recognise her voice; it was low and sultry. Bolan stared at her a moment and went to do as she wished. She slipped out of her one-piece dressing gown. She had nothing under it. Bolan’s eyes were like an owls. This was a new Adele he was seeing. She indicated he did same. He did in seconds. His man was already turgid.
“We’re going to have breakfast in our birthday suit and you’re gonna feed me,” she said with a smile.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded and drew two dining chairs a little away from the table.
They sat, facing each other, their knees touching. With shaky hands, he fed her until she was good. Then she told him she was going to feed him. He smiled and waited, but she had other ideas.
“Mom wants to nurse her baby,” she told him.
Wide-eyed, Bolan smiled. He was happy. He felt that somehow, he had scaled whatever hurdle and destroyed whatever wall that stood between them.
“Close your eyes,” she instructed.
He did. Almost immediately, he felt her hands on him and felt her heave herself on him. He relaxed.
Adele smiled. She was juicing so much and could feel her wetness oozing out. She felt him shudder as she lay her hand on his very turgid man. He sat up. She played with it a bit, teasing the excitement spot just under the inner cap and felt him gasp. She teased him a little more and raised herself a bit and guided him into her slippery wet receptacle. Bolan moaned loudly and his body began to tingle. This was the first time he went into her unsheathed. The feeling was indescribably different. He felt like he was encased in a slippery wet velvety cocoon. He felt something on his lips and opened his mouth to take it in. He sucked without being told to. He needed not be told.
“Suck it. Hmmmmmmm suuuuckkkkkkhmmmmmm,” she moaned.
She was riding him as one possessed, murmuring and shouting almost at the same time. He grabbed one bobbing mountain while he sucked the other one. She held his neck as she grinded and pounded at intervals. Bolan was surprised. He openen his eyes and stole a glance at her. She was shouting with her eyes closed. She looked like one demented. He understood, she was gripped in the throes of passion. He was at the brink too because he had never felt this way before. She was driving him mad. He grabbed her waist with his two hands and raised her up a bit. Then he brought her down gently on him. He repeated that a number of times.
“Don’t stop…Don’t stop… dooooooon’t….,” she screeched.
Bolan felt like he would erupt in volcanic lava. He felt it rising to the tip. He tried to keep it in check but couldn’t. It would overrun him and drown them.
“My woman…my baby…baaaaby….” He screamed.
“My priiiiiiiiiiiiiiinceeeeee,” she screamed, adding, “Bring it oooooooon….lemme feeeeeeel you….”
Then, they quaked as waves and waves of passion washed over them. They felt the chair bouncing and held on to each other, afraid that the flood of passion would sweep them away…
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Djinn’s Day Out (4)
Ujay fidgeted in her car. She didnt know what to do. Should she drive home or drive to her sister’s house? She sat in her car and cried, tears dripping on her blouse. All of a sudden, it hit her: she must act fast or she might not have the opportunity to take any of her belongings out of the house. She engaged the gear immediately and drove out of the parking lot. She was lucky. The journey home was smooth. She drove fast and furious and was soon home.
The security man knew something was amiss as she screeched to a halt in front of the porch and made a U-Turn, facing the gate again.
She rummaged in her bag and fished out six thousand naira. She gave it to the security man and sent him to buy three things he would get in three different shops, far apart. She knew he’d be gone for more than an hour.
As he made to leave, she called him.
“Give me the gate keys. My husband may return while you’re away,” she told him.
He handed the keys to her and left. She quickly locked the gate and raced inside the house. Luckily, she had no house help, so, no one would watch her run around her room, throwing shoes, clothes and bags into boxes and bags. She rolled three boxes out and stacked them in the boot of her car. She ran back inside and picked her jewerly box, emptied the content of her bedside locker into another bag and dashed into her husband’s room to pick some documents from the wardrobe. In less than fifty minutes, she was done. She looked round her room and tears ran down her cheeks.
“This is no time for tears,” she told herself and left the room. She locked the door and threw the key into her handbag.
The bell was ringing when she got to the front door. She dried her tears and arrange her things properly in the car boot. She kept the three small bags on the floor inside the car and went to the gate.
She let the security man in through the small gate and asked him to open the big gate.
“Where do I put the things I bought, ma?” He asked.
Oh, she had forgotten! She also couldn’t remember what she sent him to buy. She took the small parcel from him and went to her car. As she was about to drive out of the gate, an obviously worried security man waved at her. She wound down the window and looked inquiringly at him.
“I’m sorry ma. Oga will soon be back…er…er…I don’t know if he knows you’re going out,” he stammered.
“Oh, he knows,” she told him.
Surprisingly, her voice was steady. She drove out, with no idea where she was going. After a while, she found herself in the parking lot of the mall she left about two hours earlier. She knew she wouldn’t spend the night there. It was past 8pm. She needed to make quick decision. She could lodge in a hotel for the night, go to her best friend’s or her sister’s house. She didn’t want to answer any question right now. Her friend would ask questions. Her sister would ask more! Her best choice would be a hotel. She didn’t know which hotel to go to. She remembered that there were many hotels on the International Airport Road. Yeah, she would go there and drive into the first hotel that caught her fancy. She drove out of the parking lot and joined the evening traffic. A brightly coloured hotel beckoned and she drove into it. She needed something bright to brighten her mood. Inside was sophisticated and friendly. She picked only a small bag and left her things in the car, which she parked close to the security post
The hotel wasn’t cheap though, but money wasn’t her problem right now. She smiled back at the smiling front desk staff as she filled the form.
She didn’t sleep that night. She cried her heart out. In the morning, she could hardly see through her swollen eyelids. She spent two nights in the hotel. On the third morning, she checked out and moved to her sister’s house.
She had called her sister and told her she was no longer living with her husband.
“What? You are no longer what? Are you out of your senses? What happened? Did you have a fight? Did he beat you? What did you do? You must have offended my in-law. You should learn to obey your husband. A man commits no offence,” her sister reeled out.
She kept mute and allowed her exhaust her questions.
“Ujay, Ujay are you there?” She asked.
“Of course, I’m here. You have too many questions to ask and I have to allow you,” she said, holding back tears.
“Why won’t I ask questions? How can you leave your husband’s house without telling us? You think you can do anything you like in your husband’s house? Look, let me remind you that your husband is your crown. Without him, you’re nothing. Nobody will respect you. You better go back to him, kneel down and beg him to accept you. You want to rub mud on our faces,” her sister shouted.
“Is there a space where new mud could be plastered on your face? Are you not rolling in shame already? Which husband are you talking about? Tell me, which husband? When did he come to anybody in our family with drinks and my bride price? Or did you collect it without my knowledge? Look, right now, I’m in a hotel. I want to ask if I could come to your house and stay until I sort out myself. If you can’t accommodate me, I’ll look for an alternative,” Ujay fumed.
“Haba Ujay! We’re not quarelling. Of course, you can come and stay, it’s just that I want to know what the problem is,” her sister said.
“You want to know what the problem is? Oh, that’s what is of interest to you? If I mean anything to you, why didn’t you try to talk him into getting married to me properly? Anyway, I don’t want to talk about why I left his house. If you want to know, you ask him,” Ujay said.
She would allow no one to break her resolved not to talk to anybody. What she did was very, very shameful, she knew and wouldn’t want to be reminded. A woman was expected to please her husband in every way possible, even if doing so would inconvenience her. She didn’t matter. Society didn’t recognise her own joy. As long as the husband was happy, the earth would continue to rotate!
She sighed and told her sister, “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I’ll look for a place to put up. I’m sorry I made my inconveniencing demand…”
“Haaaaaaaaa no o. You’re not inconveniencing me. Haba! You can come stay with me,” she said.
Ujay relaxed. First battle won. She wondered what Dave was doing and what he had told his people. He would have told them what happened and more…
Meanwhile, Dave didn’t leave the hotel that night. It was the longest night he had experienced in his adult life. The first time was when the sheath disappeared inside his partner’s cave of wonder after a stolen session. That was the day he had a hint of what high blood pressure could do to a virile man. He poked blindly for hours, scratching the poor lady all over, all to no avail. The lady jumped up and down several times and it didn’t fall out. She cried throughout the night. It was while she was urinating in the morning that she peed it out. For a long time after that experience, his man would only respond after hours of concentrated nursing.
Back to the present! Each time he wanted to drift off to sleep, his encounter with his wife would flash through his mind. If he could cry, he would have. What would life be without her? Would he get married to the fourth wife? He resolved that night not to say a word of what happened to anybody. Let her be the one to announce it.
The following morning, he left the hotel. When he got home, he braced himself. He didn’t want any scene. He would just go in and change into fresh clothes and leave for office.
Due to the state of his mind, he didn’t notice that his wife’s car wasn’t in the garage. He tiptoed past her room to his. As he was about to drive out, he noticed the worried looks on the security man’s face. It appeared he wanted to say something but he wasn’t in the mood for that. He got into his car and the security man ran to open the gate for him.
That was three months ago. Since then, a lot had happened. Nine days to Christmas, they were still living apart. Though they hadn’t seen each other and had not communicated on the phone, they both had lost weight.
For Ujay, it wasn’t just that they weren’t living together again. She had another issue to contend with. She was pregnant!
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Djinn’s day out 2
Dave blinked his eyes a number of times. He wished he was seeing an apparition. But no, she stood there, her eyes as round as saucers. He wished he had magical powers that could turnaround this situation. He had woken up with a funny taste in his mouth which had stayed all day.
Brushing with charcoal toothpaste, rinsing his mouth a number of times with mouthwash had not removed the taste. He should have known that that indescribable taste foretold something unpleasant. And he hit his toe against the door twice today! The djinns must be out and about this season. He could not look her in the face. What! Ujay a whore?
This was too much for him to bear. He slumped on the bed, his hands on his head. How would he talk about this? Who would he tell? It would lower his esteem among family and friends. He that had nothing but scorn for perceived ladies of easy virtue found to be patronising them!
Death would be better than this, but he would choose life still. Why would he consider death? A man should not concede defeat to a woman! He mustered the courage and looked her in the eyes and felt like giving her the beating of her life. First, a few hard slaps should rearrange her brain. But would that be justified? He was in a mess and she was in a bigger mess.
But…why was he jumping to conclusion? He didn’t know why she was there. What if she acted on a tip off? Whatever, he knew it would do him good not to cause a scene here. He had a name to protect. He cursed Dom under his breath.
On second thought, he reasoned that Dom was just doing his business, discreetly procuring high profile ladies for men of means. He had never thought of asking how Dom got those beautiful, well-behaved ladies. He remembered Dom told him that the lady he was sending to him was a new one and a respectable lady of honour.
His adrenaline had been on overdrive. It would be fun to unleash his savagery on a new lady. He had wished his wife would go learn how to satisfy a man behind closed doors. She felt cooking delicious meals would keep him attached to her. When he heard the knock on the door a while ago, his man had sprang to attention for the excitement was physical. Immediately he beheld the object of his excitement, his man had slumped like an armed robber executed at the Bar Beach.
He stared at her, his mind a jumble of thoughts… Ujay stood rooted to a spot for a long while, wishing the ground would open and swallow her. She was still clutching her phone with which she wanted to take a picture of the beautiful bedside locker in the hotel room… She shouldn’t have done this! She knew it wasn’t right even from the first day she thought about it. It was just that she was desperate to satisfy him. Desperate?
She smiled in her mind while she trembled outwardly. She thought of all she had gone through and steeled her mind. One can only die once. “I’m highly disappointed in you. I feel so ashamed. What do I call this? What will people say when they hear this?” Dave suddenly said, jumping up.
Ujay stared at him. This wasn’t what she expected. The surprise was written all over here. “So, this is what you do when I go to work?” He continued. He was standing a few paces from her.
“And I guess this is your office,” she said, surprised at herself. She didn’t see it coming, for her mind was faraway, but the impact of the slap brought her back to reality. Her right hand flew to her stinging right cheek as tears welled up in her eyes. “How dare you! You slut! So, this is what you do in my absence? To think I’ve been living with a dog as wife! What would you say is your problem?
I take care of your every need. Why this? Oh my Gawd! Who did I offend? How did I get myself into this? How did I get married to a harlot? Haaaaaaaaaaa! This world is wicked, very wicked,” he said. When he stood up, the towel he tied round his waist had slipped to the floor but he didn’t notice.
Ujay stared at him, tears coursing down her cheeks. “The marriage is over. It’s over. Don’t ever step into my house again. Just go back to your useless family from here. If I set my eyes on you near my home, I’ll kill you,” he said quietly. “Baby please listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. This would have been my second time,” she pleaded, kneeling down. It would be better for him to kill her inside that room than for people to hear the abominable act she had committed.
“Who is your baby? If I hear that word from your mouth again, I’ll strangle you right here,” he said, whacking her face twice. Ujay tasted blood in her mouth. She spat out blood.
In her bid to clean her face, she noticed that her phone was switched to video and was on recording mode. She smiled within her and positioned it in a manner that got full shot of her husband in his birthday suit, without his knowledge. “Is it not better you kill me here? I’ll die gladly in your arms, knowing fully well I was trying to save my marriage because I didn’t want to lose you.
Each time we’re behind closed doors, you express your frustration with me. You want me to behave like a bitch, that that’s what turns you on. You told me the way bitches handle you behind closed doors kept you going back to them. You tell me to learn to behave like one, but you would not teach me.
How do I learn to be one when you refuse to teach me? How else would I do that if not by mixing up with bitches? It’s all right and good. I’ll leave your home. I’ll go back to my people. But mind you, I’ll never tell anyone why you drove me out of your house.
You’ll be the one to come and tell my family and your own family why we’re no longer living together,” she told him. She got up from her kneeling position. Her knees and cheeks ached. Dave stared at her, mouth agape. “You know what you just said is not true. You can’t prove anything.
You’re just a bitch that I was unfortunate enough to get married to. You’re a fake and you know it. Just leave my home. I can’t imagine living with a bitch,” he said. “All well dear, I’ll leave. But you’d have to convince your people that had to plead with you to allow me to attend family events,” she said, crying.
She turned the door knob, stepped out and closed the door behind her. She then leaned on the door, wiped her face and walked briskly away, blinded by tears. Dom saw her late. He was lounging in the garden when she walked out of the door towards the gate. His mind became alert. Why was she leaving less than an hour after she came in? And without informing him! Could it be that he didn’t like her? Could it be that they disagreed on payment? But she would have informed him before leaving.
Could she have harmed him and robbed him? Fear clutched his heart. Some of these women were dangerous. They could do anything to their clients. He sprinted towards the gate but before he got outside, she had flagged down a cab and entered.
He could just make out the rear of the cab as it pulled into the relatively traffic-free road. He made to get a cab to go after her but realised he needed to be sure his client was okay first. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed Dave’s number. It was not answered. He dialed it the third time and it rang out again.
Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as he sprinted back into the hotel and took the stairs two at ago to the first floor. When he got to the door, he knocked twice and got no response. He turned the knob and the door opened. He rushed into the room and stopped dead on his track…
Let’s continue this journey on Sunday!
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Djinn’s day out (1)
Dave stared at his empty glass. He had downed the last drop of the red wine more than an hour ago. Never had he exceeded one bottle of wine anytime he needed something strong. Of course, until recently, he had always shared a bottle of wine with somebody. So, most times, he ended up not drinking more than a glass, depending on the capacity of his drinking partner. But of late, he had been drinking alone, and too frequently too.
He picked his phone and dialed a number and ended the call before it rang at the other end. There’s what is called pride and a man must have it, he thought.
“What pride are you holding on to?” A voice asked and he snapped out of his reverie.
He looked around him and found no one. It was his mind that was talking to him. He smiled. He wished he could confide in someone. He smiled again, knowing he would not talk about it; he would not be the one to reveal the shame. Unless Ujay decided to talk about it, he would not.
The whole thing sounded so unreal. The scene had replayed in his mind countless times.
He could remember the minute details of the happening that shattered his home.
That day, he had gone for his usual sport. He was in the hotel room, sipping from a glass of wine when his phone rang. He smiled as he recognised the caller. He had been expecting a call from him.
“Hello, is she here?” he’d asked as he answered the call.
“Good evening sir. Yes sir. She’s a new one. Very beautiful and mature. She’s also very shy,” a voice said at the other end.
“Shy? You know I don’t like them shy. I don’t like them with inhibitions. I like expressive ones. I told you to get me that last one. She’s everything I want in a woman,” he said into the mouthpiece.
“Sir, I couldn’t get her. I guess she has a client now because she isn’t answering my call. But try this new one. I’m sure you’d like her,” the voice said persuasively.
“Okay, send her up. I just hope she’s everything you said,” he said.
“She’s not here presently. She said it’ll take her about forty minutes to get here,” the voice said.
“Forty minutes? What the heck would I be doing alone here for forty minutes?” He asked angrily.
“I’m sorry sir, you usually call me to arrange it for you before you get here. But you were already here before I knew you were coming. I won’t just send any roadside bush meat to you sir,” the voice said.
“It’s okay. I’ll wait. She’d better be worth this wait,” he said and ended the call.
He had to end the call because his wife had tried to reach him thrice on the same line. Immediately he ended the conversation, his wife’s call came in again.
“Hello dear, hope there’s no problem?” He asked tenderly.
No dear. Good evening dear. I only want to ask if you’re coming back early today,” his wife said.
“Is that why you wanted to run down my phone’s battery?” He asked.
“I’m sorry my dear. I didn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just that I want to ask if I could go and watch a film at the cinema,” she pleaded.
He was taken aback. This was the second time she would make such a request in a month. Anyway, he wouldn’t be home early, so she could go. However, he decided that the next time she made that request, he would find a way to tail her to the cinema house.
“It’s okay dear. You can go. But don’t stay too long,” he told her and ended the call.
He would want to know the kind of films she was watching these days. She wasn’t really the cinema type, but he allowed her to go that evening, afterall, he wasn’t sure he would get home earlier than midnight. After granting her strange request the first time she asked, he had met her at home later that night, very tired. She didn’t want him near her at all that night and it was perfectly okay for him because he had had a very good time with a lay that was arranged for him. When, five nights later, he decided to have a tango with her, he got a much improved performance from her. She was no longer lying like a log of wood -deaf and dumb. When, at the peak of passion, he had urged her to be a bitch, she had responded a bit. He was surprised, but a bit worried too…
Well, for now, he had to wait for forty minutes for today’s lay. If she was good enough, he could spend the night with her. He was in his bad boy mood. He chuckled.
Dom had never disappointed him. He knew his kind of lay. Once or twice, he had sent a bush meat, but they were eager to learn. Whenever he was with a lay, he told her what he wanted. He loved them screaming and using the four letter words without inhibition. He wished his wife would learn to behave like a bitch behind closed door. Hmmmmmmmmm? Who would teach her? He laughed out loud and got out of his shirt and trousers. Then, he sipped his wine and flopped on the bed.
“Hello. Are you there? You really have to get here on time. I don’t want to keep him waiting. He’s my best client,” Dom said into the phone.
“I’ll try and get there on time. I had to tidy my home front first. I’m good to go now,” she said.
“Okay. Please don’t disappoint,” he said.
“I’ll try,” she said.
She had taken her time to dress up properly. Not being a makeup person, she had applied eyeshadow and lipstick sparingly. No matter what, she wouldn’t want to appear like a tart. She really didn’t want to do this.
She drove to a mall close to where she was going, parked her car and flagged down a cabbie to take her to the hotel. It was a very cool facility with a warm and classy ambience. Not the kind of place you find people loitering around.
The guy was not smiling when she met him. She got there ten minutes later than scheduled.
“I’m really sorry. You know you gave me a short notice. I’m really sorry,” she apologised.
He made a call on his mobile phone and sent her up to a room on the first floor.
“He’s having a shower. The door is not locked. Just go in,” he told her.
When she got to the door, she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before knocking. She wasn’t doing it because she wanted to. She also didn’t need the money. It’s just that…just that…
She knocked and waited. Then, she remembered she was supposed to open the door and walk in. She turned the doorknob and the door opened. She went in. There was no one in the room but water was running in the bathroom. She stood near the television.
Few minutes later, a guy came out of the bathroom wiping his head with towel. He had another towel tied loosely round his torso.
She opened her mouth to scream but no word came out, her eyes reverted on the figure before her and filled with fear and surprise.
“Oh my Gawd! Who did this to me,” he screamed, grabbing the towel which had loosened and slid off his torso.
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Knowing that her husband spent his days with cold bodies was beginning to give Keith’s wife gooseflesh. How can somebody enjoy cutting up cold bodies? For the two years Keith wooed her, she never visited him in the hospital where he worked. Of course, he invited her and made it clear she could drop by anytime she felt like. She was too uninterested then. She was visiting her former fiancée who dumped her few months to their wedding day almost every other day at work. She never found out that he was dating his colleague then.
Keith, a medical doctor, came at the time everyone was trying to get her to forget that sad experience. She had withdrawn totally into her shell and would allow no one in. She knew Keith told him he worked in the pathology department of a hospital, but she guessed the import didn’t get into her dark world then. In those two years, they didn’t go out for up to a dozen times.
She usually had an excuse for not going out with him. She thought that could dissuade him from coming to her. It never did. He kept coming and almost constituted himself into a nuisance. He would attend all family functions. To make matter worse, her father, a phlegmatic retired old major, saw in him, a suitable suitor for his much-loved daughter. Keith also struck the right cord with her eccentric stepmother whose only interest was fashion. She would dress herself up, paint every paintable part of her body and prance about the house in her grotesque clothes. Somehow, Keith could stand her and they would chat endlessly whenever he visited. Her stepmother would make him comfortable with food and drinks while he waited for her to get back from work.
She met Keith at her junior cousin’s naming ceremony. Somehow, they got talking and she found him interesting enough to grudgingly agree give him her phone number. That was how their relationship started.
He would come to her parent’s house at the close of his shift and wait for her. The second time she visited him in his house in their two years of courtship, she shared a bottle of red wine with him and lost her inhibition. When Keith placed his hand on her laps and started tracing patterns on her flowery dress, she giggled. That embolden Keith who gingerly pulled the dress up, expecting her to hit his hand with her palm.
“What are you doing?” She slurred.
“Nothing. I just want to peek at what you have beneath that dress. I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to lie beside you in our birthday suit, touch and admire your goddess-like body,” he had replied, seriously.
To his utmost surprise, she had stood up, zipped down her dress and stepped out of it. Shocked, Keith swallowed hard. He didn’t expect this. Not the prim and proper Shalom, Ol’Major’s beloved daughter.
“Baby, you are drunk,” he managed to say, as blood rushed down to his crotch.
“Yes, I’m drunk. What’s wrong with that? I wouldn’t be the first lady to get drunk,” she slurred, swaying on her feet.
Keith jumped up and held her. She shivered. Her skin felt so warm and silky. On an impulse, he sought her mouth with his. She didn’t resist. He became bolder, fiddled with her brassiere hooks and released the two delightful mounds. He burrowed his face in-between the mounds and she drew him closer to her, breathing deeply. He latched his lips round her tits as his hands roved her body. She moaned loudly as she held tightly on to him. Gently he steered her back to the couch. She was delirious with desire. He stepped out of his clothes in record time and divested her of her remaining underclothes. She smiled shyly at him.
“You are ready for this?” He asked her, barely able to contain his excitement.
She nodded, her eyes closed. He knelt on the rug, pulled her to the end of the couch, went in-between and buried his face in there. He tasted honey and nectar mixed together…and something sweet smelling. As he prodded with his tongue and fingers, she screamed.
“Don’t stop, I said, don’t…don’t…yeah, I love it…don’t…it’s been so loooooong.”
Keith felt himself bursting. His dangler was turgid and beginning to weep and hit the rug intermittently as it lunged. He pulled her closer to the edge of the couch, pulled off his face, with his fingers still working crazily in there. She wasn’t aware when his dangler replaced his tongue down there. She was shivering and screaming crazily as waves of passion wracked her body. He carried her to the bedroom after that and they went on another excursion, discovering things about each that shouldn’t be inked, tasting their cums and thrashing round the bed in their alcohol-induced naughty state.
Two months later, she realised that she was pregnant. She had no plan to kill a soul, even an unformed one. Keith was ecstatic. They announced their intention to get married.
Everyone was happy…everyone except Shalom…when she realised that her hubby earned a living by cutting up dead bodies as a pathologist! She began to resent his touch. She imagined all the crazy, horrible things she heard that those people do to lifeless bodies. Could Keith be a pervert? She had no answer to that. Her skin crawled each time she remembered that.
Mekson stares at the pastor. Could this be real? He stands, rooted to the spot. The pastor twirls, jumps and moonwalks, oblivious to the scared lone figure watching his show of shame. As he slides backward and does an almost 360 degree spin, he stops abruptly.
Oh no! What deuce brought this man here? He asked himself.
“Aaaaaaah Brother. I was rejoicing on your behalf meh. The spirit said to my spirit, ‘Stand up, go to the church, each, drink and rejoice for brother…er…er…er…Mekson…yeah, brother Mekson meh. For he is coming for thanksgiving meh’. You see, I don’t usually stay in the church this late meh, unless the spirit specifically instruct me. Today, I heard the voice, very clear. It said, ‘My son, go and wait for my son, for he is coming for thanksgiving. And when you are under anointing, you perform exploit, like you saw me doing a while back meh.
“So, what brought you here at such an ungodly hour? No, I mean, I know why you are here because the spirit informed me beforehand. Your prayers have been answered,” Pastor James stuttered, cursing under his breath. He should have closed that door!
He reaches for his white face towel and wipes beads of sweat off his face.
Mekson’s present state of mind is incapable of rationale thinking. The only thing that dominates his mind presently is the hangman’s noose, following him everywhere in his room.
“Pastor, my wife is chasing me about. She wants to kill me,” he said.
“Your wife? Where is she? Why? What did you do to her?” Pastor James asked him, looking fugitively behind Mekson.
“My dead wife pastor. She’s been buried in her village and she wouldn’t let me be,” Mekson whined.
“Dead wife meh?” Pastor James echoed, looking frantically around him.
This is getting more than he bargained for. No need meddling with the dead.
“My business is er…er…er…with the living and not the dead…” Pastor James began, searching for words.
“Look pastor, I realised that I was supposed to come for thanksgiving which I didn’t come for. I was very busy, that’s why I’m coming so late,” Mekson said urgently.
“Yeah…yeah…thanksgiving meh. You’re supposed to have come for thanksgiving meh. Are you ready for thanksgiving meh? But you said…”
The pastor is scared. He’s torn between the greed for money and the wrath of the dead. Why would a dead wife come after her husband? This is getting freaky. He definitely won’t spend the night with this man here…but first, the thanksgiving…
Oh boy! I’m almost freaking out here. You wouldn’t want to miss out on this. I wouldn’t also. So let’s keep a date here on Sunday.
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Day ghosts came in pair
Chief clears his throat, looks around him, then at the three men and a woman and clears his throat again.
Sam is getting irritably impatient. He feels like rushing to Chief and forcing the words out of his mouth. He looks around him and notices that no one is as eager as he is to hear what Chief has to say. Obviously, he’s the only person that’s in the dark. He turns to Kim and notices a glow in her eyes. Tears?
“Fate has a way of fiddling with our lives. It swings us back and forth, throwing joy and pain at us at whim. One moment you are happy, the next, you are in pain. One moment you are crying, the next you are laughing.
Years ago, I found myself crying. I cried and cried, before then, I had laughed but at times, the laughter was painful, painful because I was not allowed to live my life the way I wanted. My parents wanted to live my life for me. I made up my mind that my children would make their choices. I made up my mind that I would allow them make their mistakes,” Chief said.
He looks at his listeners. If looks could kill, Sam’s eyes would have dismembered Chief.
Suddenly, Chief stares at Sam intently and continues.
“The first day you stepped through that door, I knew something would change. The shock almost killed me. I thought I saw an apparition. You look so much like your father. But the ghost of that day came in a pair. I felt I was caught in a whirlwind. I thought I was having another issue with my heart. I thought I’d die. I prayed to God to preserve my life. Later, during my stay in the hospital, I thought about it all and made some discreet enquiries which led to more revelations.”
Chief looks around him again.
“Get me a glass of something strong,” he said to Val.
“No Chief. You need water, not alcohol. Get him water, please,” Dr. Jones said firmly.
“Doctor, an old man should know what’s good for him…but I give up. Will make do with the water. I’ll live my life the way I want once you step out of that door,” Chief said with a smile as he accepts a glass of water from Val.
He stares at Kim and she squirms in her seat. He looks up and down and rests his eyes on Sam again. By now, Sam is feeling hot and cold at the same time. Suddenly, he starts sweating in the air-conditioned living room.
“What an old man sees while sitting down, a young man will not see even if he climbs the tallest tree…” Chief said.
“Excuse me sir, I want to use the gents,” Sam said, standing up. He heads to the gents.
He fiddles with his fly as the urgency intensifies immediately he closes the door behind him. After peeing, he flushes and zips up carefully. As he washes his hands, his brow creases.
He leans against the door and wipes the sweat off his brow with his palm. The manner in which Val wraps his eyes endearingly around Kim unsettles him.
Could there be something between them? Could there be a discreet affair between them? Kim is intoxicated by wealth. She’s always telling him that it was a mistake she was born into a poor home. She told him that she usually had dreams of rich parentage when she was much younger. She egged him on to accept anything Chief offered them. It is a chance at improving their lot in life.
What if he has to leave the job suddenly? What if whatever Chief has to say makes him take a drastic decision there and then? Can he turn his back on the new job and all the goodies that comes with it? Will Kim accept him if he has to lose everything now? To think that he sold his personal vehicle just 48 hours ago! Kim had harassed him into selling the car.
“How do you feel when you park this wretched looking car beside this machine? Don’t you think that since our level has changed, everything should change with it?” Kim had gone on and on.
He had no choice. He had to sell his much loved Toyota Camry ‘Tiny light’.
Now, if he leaves Chief’s house without his official vehicle, he is ‘carless’ and he can bet with his mother’s head that Kim will not leave with him.
Kim! Kim and Val! He is yet to understand the affinity between them…
“Sam…Sam…Sam!!! Are you okay? You’ve been in there for rather too long.” It’s Val.
“Er…em…yeah…yes…I’m coming out now,” he replied, flushing the loo again and turning the tap off and on.
“Okay, dad said I should check on you,” Val said, his voice fading.
As Sam opens the door and steps into the living room, he panics again.
“A man dies only once,”he told himself and strides purposefully to the couch he left about 10 minutes earlier.
Chief looks him up and down.
“Young man, you have to pull yourself together. When I lost my first love, Val’s mother, I was devastated. I thought I was going to die. I took to drinking. At a point, I left for Bulgaria. I had a friend schooling in Sofia then and I just wanted to relax. I couldn’t cope with the weather, the cold was extreme. I took to alcohol like fish takes to water. After six months of being a layabout, I realised that my son needed me. I returned home. The young lady my parents got for me even before I finished school had moved into our house then. My parents got her to care for my son, Val. It was so easy to fall for her whims. She prepared and served my meals. I was still drinking. Most nights, my head was in the cloud. I didn’t know when I started going in to her. She got pregnant and my parents were ecstatic. It was a big wedding but I didn’t remember what transpired that day. I was drunk most of the day. My parents converted your father, Sam, to my personal driver.”
Sam’s head bobs. The others sit up in surprise. Clearly this is news to them all.
“Well, I lived with my wife in relative peace until we ran into an old neighbour of Val’s mother, Elsie. We’d stop by a stall to buy some fruits and vegetables.
“Immediately Elsie saw my pregnant wife, she screamed at me, ‘So, you sent this woman to come and kill the pregnant mother of your son so you could marry her, eh?’
“Your father had come down from the vehicle to open the car booth. On seeing him, Elsie shouted in astonishment, ‘Daniel!!!’
The effect of Chief’s word is electric. His audience literally jump from their seats, shocked.
“Dad, was my mum murdered?” Val asked, fear mixed with something indescribable in his voice.
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Bossladies Nest 36: The hunter becomes prey
Jay stared at the little stone in his palm. It was stained with blood. Icy hands clawed at his heart. He urinated blood and stone! The pain he felt a while ago had subsided. The relief he felt when the stone came out was heavenly. He examined the tiny stone again and shivered. Who did he offend? Who could be after his life? His wife? His heart raced. He turned the stone this way and that, his brow furrowed.
He cursed aloud as he remembered that his phone had been stolen. He needed to speak with his doctor. He would have to get to the hospital. Then he remembered Debola’s handbag he was so sure he saw on the dining table and shivered again. Did Adele take the bag? Was the bag on the dining table a mirage? There was only one way to find out: ask Debola if she left her bag in his house as she hurried out! But how would he? He had no phone to call her. Using his wife’s phone was out of it.
Something was gnawing at the back of his mind. He searched….yes! Adele didn’t sleep in the house. She claimed she was locked out. Claimed? According to Debola, Adele was locked out! Hmmmmmmmmm. Was he dreaming?
He remembered his most recent challenge. How could someone pee stone? Didn’t that portend death? He sat up suddenly. He had to do something. He needed to see his doctor urgently. Or, he could speak with Ken? With which phone? After hitting Adele that morning, asking to use her phone wasn’t advisable. But, come to think of it, how did people survive before the advent of GSM? He laughed mirthlessly.
For the first time in months, he remembered there is a being up there who answers prayers. He knelt down at the foot of the bed, brought his palms together in supplication and immediately had an urgent urge to answer the call of nature. He froze in fright. The fear of the experience he had about half an hour ago paralyzed him.
“You will pee stones again,” a voice told him.
He jumped up and looked around. There was no one with him.
“No I won’t,” he responded aloud.
“Ok. Go and pee then,” the voice challenged him.
He looked around him again. This time, he opened the closets and checked. There was no one in there.
“You will pee stones and blood. Your blood will drain and you’ll die,” the voice said calmly.
“Noooooo,” he screamed and ran out of the room, to the sitting room.
After about an hour of desperate trekking, Debola got lucky. An old delivery van stopped for her. She smiled within herself. She had no choice. All the beautiful rides she had been trying to thumb down didn’t as much as give her a glance. At this point, even an okada would be appreciated.
A few more steps to the delivery van, the door opened. She tried reading what was inscribed on the van but they were not legible enough. All she could make out was ‘pure water’. She felt thirsty.
“Good morning angel,” the occupant of the vehicle said as she got to the opened door.
“Good morning sir,” she responded.
The sole occupant of the vehicle was an old man that could be in his sixties. Something about him didn’t feel right. But this was the only vehicle that had stopped for her since she started trekking over an hour ago. Moreover, he was an old man. What could he possibly do to her?
“Where is this angel going this early in the morning?” The old man asked jovially.
“I’m going home,” she told him.
“I’ll take you home, wherever home is. But you’ll pay me very well,” the old man said with a smile.
Debola stiffened. She had no dime on her and wouldn’t be able to gain access to her flat immediately as she didn’t have her keys with her. This meant she wouldn’t be able to pay this old man. But she wasn’t going to miss this chance of leaving this environment. Rich men’s nests had its own blues: they don’t show poor strangers love!
She smiled at the old man. He smiled in response.
“I guess that seals the deal. Where are you going?” He asked.
She told him and without hesitation, he said, “Come in.”
She did and closed the door.
As he pulled away, he asked, “So, how much are you paying me? It’s far you know”.
She stiffened again and remained silent.
“Oh, don’t be afraid. I can actually take you to your destination free of charge, you know,” he said, by way of conversation.
Debola relaxed. That was not lost on the old man.
“I need to deliver some packs of water to a customer nearby. If you don’t mind, I’ll take you home after. Since you don’t seem to want to pay me, you’ll allow me do my business a bit. It’s too early in the morning to go on unfruitful errands, you know,” he said.
“Em…er…em…it’s not as if I don’t want to pay you. The problem is that I was robbed this morning and my money and the keys to my house was taken from me. Everything was taken. My bag was taken. I can’t even open my door when I get home,” she lied, getting bolder as she said that.
“Aaaaaaaagh! You were robbed? Sorry oh. You live alone?” He asked.
Debola nodded. She wasn’t really interested in talking to the old man who appeared garrulous.
She cursed Jay’s wife for coming back too early in the morning and forcing her out of the house. Now, she had to hitch a ride with this smelly old man and must be nice to him! She cursed her again and again in her mind as the old man rambled on.
Then, she remembered that the prophetess was supposed to come see her in Jay’s house! Aaaaaaaaaaaah! She could be there right now. She froze. She had sent the address and description of the house to her. She needed to warn the prophetess that the game had changed. But how would she do that? She had no idea of time and had no wristwatch on.
“What’s the time?” She asked the old man.
“To seven. It’s still early in the morning,” he said.
She went back to her thought. How would she warn the prophetess? She could ask to use the old man’s phone. But she didn’t know her phone number off hand. It occurred to her that she didn’t really know anybody’s phone number, only hers.
Technology is doing all the thinking for most people and people are getting very lazy!
She felt the old man’s touch and looked down. He had his right palm on her laps…
Aunty prophetess was both angry and worried. How could Debola send her on a wild goose chase this early in the morning? How could she? She was on the mountain all night because of her, only to be told that she was in the wrong house. But…was that the wrong house? The description and address matched. How did it turn out to be the wrong house? Fear gnawed at her heart. What if something bad had happened to Debola in that house? She felt ill at ease when Debola told her that she had moved into that man, Jay’s house. How could she have found it so easy to displace his wife?
These rich men! She never trusted them for she knew the secret of some of those wealth! She was into that business and she knew what she did for some clients to get rich. Something told her that Debola was in danger. Her phone had been ringing and she wasn’t answering her calls. And she was expecting her!
She decided to go to Debola’s house immediately to check on her. If Debola was not at home and couldn’t be reached till evening, then Jay would be in hot soup. She made a detour to the nearest ATM and withdrew some cash, then headed for Debola’s house.
After much mental exertion, Adele concluded she’d had enough of Jay. She had borne all the insults and had patched the marriage for over two decades. A fool at forty, they say, is a fool for ever. Coincidentally, she was in her forties…inching towards fifty. Time to live her life. Since Jay had gotten to the point of bringing a lady into the house and locking her out of the house she built with her money, then it was high time she moved on. For the sake of her children and propriety, she had borne all the insults and allowed Jay to drag her in mire. Her skin crawled as she remembered that she found her land documents and other important papers in the lady’s bag. What if the lady had taken those documents away? Who knew what other documents Jay had handed over to her?
Adele had taken the whole week off from work. Not being in the office on a week day felt so strange to her. She smiled.
“It’s time to join the Boss Ladies’ Nest. Tracy needn’t preach anymore,” she told herself.
She’d made up her mind to find out the faces behind that club and what made them tick.
As she made to pick something from her bedside fridge, she heard a cry. She listened and heard it again. It was Jay.
She rushed out of her room to Jay’s room, from where the cry emanated. Jay wasn’t in his room but his rest room’s door was ajar. He was in there, backing the room. He was whimpering, his boxers on the floor, framing his feet. Her first thought was to get a good, pliant cane and flog the hell out of his flat butt.
Instead, she asked him, “What’s the problem? You want to shout down this building?”
“Please help me. I’m in serious trouble. I’m pressed but can’t urinate. It’s as if something is moving in my urethra. It happened this morning and a stone and blood came out. It’s happening again,” he cried.
Adele stared at him, trying not to melt, for he looked pathetic.
“For the love of that which is good, I’d drive you to the hospital,” she told him.
Her phone was ringing. She looked at it: Bolan!
She moved back to her room and returned Bolan’s call.
“The angel of my life,” Bolan began…
Debola stared at the old man’s hand rubbing her laps. Her short gown barely got to her knees as she sat. He pulled it up, revealing her thighs. That was when she noticed the ring on the old man’s little finger and the fact that he was drawing a particular invisible pattern on her laps with it.
His hands inches towards her V zone.
“Stop that nonsense. Stop it. In fact, stop this van. I want to get down here and now,” she shouted, hitting his hand.
The old man merely smiled, his face trained on the road as he controlled the steering wheel with his left hand.
To her horror, Debola realised that she hadn’t said a word out or raised a finger, for her body felt strange. She watched, horrified as the man grabbed her panties and dipped his fingers into her cave of wonder….
Let’s continue this journey on Sunday.
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