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Bossladies 68: Orgasmville

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Bossladies 68: Orgasmville

 

 

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!

###########*#########*

 

Send your observations to: julietbumah@gmail.com

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