LIFE

I DIDN'T DO IT

2016-02-23T09:08:00.000-08:00

She was crazy. She was different from every girl that I had ever been with. She was annoyingly honest which made her seem rude or disrespectful a lot of the time. I think that was what made me fall in love with her. She was a hot head. She was a feminist. She never failed to drive her point home whenever she felt backed up in a corner about anything that involved women’s rights. She unconsciously turned me into one. She loved life; she enjoyed drinking which made me fall in love with her more since it was my favorite pass time. She was everything I taught myself to run away from - only ironically, I was in love.

Now here lay the problem, we had barely been friends for two months and I can easily say that fifty-six days out of sixty, all she did was talk about how much she hated men and how she would never want to be involved with anyone again after her experience with her ex boyfriend – but here I was, in love. I’m the type to never show restraint when it comes to showing emotions and putting my feelings out there, damn the consequences. But in this situation, I had to play things cool like the game of chess. I knew point blank that going on the offense with my feelings would out rightly push her away so I decided to come up with a plan. We were already friends so all I needed to do was maintain the friendship, keep my ear in the ground while I looked for a soft spot to penetrate. Boy, I felt like an FBI agent going on a covert mission. She was beautiful – which meant I had to literally keep my eyes in my pocket to avoid explaining why I’m staring at her and if I had to throw compliments, I needed to say it in the most profane manner. I didn’t want to give anything away. From my earlier description of her, it’s easy to tell she was very smart but you know how love works – I wanted to stop or at best reduce the usual arguments we used to always have to the barest minimum by raising the white flag each time something came up but I also didn’t want to seem weak. It was a long shot.

This went on for another two months until one day `boom`, I had found the opening I needed. We were both big fans of Naruto and other Animes and I had a lot of data on my WiFi so one weekend she asked to my house to download stuff. Midway in a mutual friend called to invite us to a barbecue party. She left her laptop at mine with the intention of coming back to get it after the party but we left there rather late so she asked me to help download whatever was left and shed pick the laptop the next day. I obliged. While downloading I decided to snoop through her files until I came across a folder that contained documents that could pass off as a diary. I thought about closing the tab but I was there already – snoop away. I opened a bottle of wine and drank it while I read through it. Most of the stuff she wrote dated back to when she was with her ex boyfriend and the events that transpired after they broke up. A lot of emotional talk that got me laughing hard until I found two recent ones. Both of them unfinished. First was over three months old – just around the same time we started talking and somehow I remember everything she said word for word;

So I just met this dude

He looks rather unkempt, beard all over the place

Oozed alcohol most of the time.

I don’t know how I feel about him

but he’s smart so we can be friends

I was shocked. I could feel my heart racing fast. Felt like I was going to have a heart attack. That was definitely me the first time we met. I mean I know my hairline is terrible and sometimes I leave my beard to grow out and it makes me look homeless – I know. But on this day I smelled nice and I was wearing this shirt I fancied a lot. I was broken for a minute. I poured a glass full of wine and drank it in a gulp. I also paused the downloads. I wasn’t having any of it. I braced myself up for the worst before I opened the second file. It wasn’t anything I could have ever imagined;

He was supposed to be just my friend

Now I find myself daydreaming about him

I see how he looks at me. I think he likes me

Maybe just as a friend

I wish it would be more than that

Oh fuck it

I shouldn’t be doing this. No no no

This isn’t the plan

Oh gosh

I think I’m in love with him but it’s pointless

He doesn’t see me that way

It’s going to get harder everyday

Seeing him and not being able to grab and kiss him hurts

At this point, I had spilled some of the wine on my bed, cleaned it up, started her download again and was jumping up and down the bed. I felt like a seventeen year old in love. I was super fucking happy. Every time I have to talk about this story or think about it, I give away a smile because it was the day that changed everything. Next day, I insisted on taking the laptop to her house as opposed to her coming over to mine. I was excited, I was nervous but I was happy. I got myself a clean cut, took out the beard, got in clean clothes and had the driver take me to hers. Did I mention she was the only child? Well she was and luckily for me she was home alone that day. Not because I planned to be naughty or do anything silly, I just wanted alone time with her to say everything Id been wanting to say for months.

I went there with a plan in my head - obviously but when she opened the door for me to come in, she didn’t seem too pleased to see me. She kept ranting about how guys were not allowed to come to hers and how mad her parents would be mad at her if they saw me there. Only reason why she allowed me come was because I was with her laptop and because she believed the lie I had earlier told her about spending the day out with the family after church when all I really wanted to do was be with her. I now had to switch from plan A to B. Problem is I was too certain about plan A, I didn’t have a plan B. My plan B now was to dance around the situation and come out on top irrespective. We sat on the L-shaped sofa in her living room and she reluctantly had conversations with me for a little over thirty minutes before asking that I leave because her parents would get back soon. I don’t know what it was that came over me, but I found myself lip locking with her. She kissed me back and thirty seconds in she backed out.

Then the room was quiet for a few seconds before she landed a deafening slap on my face. I was livid, but more determined. Felt like she slapped some Shia Labeouf into me because next thing I remember was me kissing her pressed up against the wall and it felt like heaven. Of course I had been with other people before her but it just felt good getting with someone I shared the same emotional connection with. We went on making out and messing with each other for another thirty minutes before I wrestled myself out of her strong embrace.

We sat down again and I told her everything I felt. She had this smirk on her face the whole time. She was listening and not listening because she kept leaning in for a kiss which I rebuffed and followed up with a tickle because I needed to speak these feelings into her head. She didn’t explicitly tell me she was into me and I didn’t think it was appropriate for me to tell her that I snooped through her laptop and found all the secret mushy stuff she was writing. For all I know she can deny it and say it wasn’t about me and that would send me into depression immediately - but the conversation ended in the best possible way with both us agreeing to allow things take its course and whatever happens afterwards we would accept as our fate.

We eventually started dating soon after. It wasn’t conventional, it wasn’t easy. Felt like a new learning process but we managed to grind things out. It was now time for her to go for NYSC. Her dad wanted her to serve in Lagos so that after the three week camp exercise, he would fix her in one of his companies. Of course for selfish reasons I was totally in support of her father’s decision but my girlfriend by all means wanted Abuja. She claimed to have gotten tired of Lagos and wanted a new experience outside her comfort zone. I tried to talk her out of it because I wasn’t ready to have to deal with distance. I felt it was too early and we weren’t ready to deal with the pressures that distance would throw at us but my girlfriend always gets what she wants. I eventually got tired of going back and forth on it and accepted what she wanted. Because of misunderstandings arising from this issue we didn’t talk for a week until the day she was to fly to Abuja. I decided to drive down to her house to spend some time with her before her flight. When it was time to go to the airport, she told her dad not to worry that she would rather I dropped her off.

I should mention that after we started dating she later confessed that the only reason she said her parents would be mad if they saw me at her house was because she was shy and didn’t want to have to be alone with me. So I had met the parents a few times and had even dinner a couple of times with them.

November 5th 2013 was the day she supposedly flew to Abuja. Over two years after, I still haven’t spoken to my girlfriend. Her parents claim that I kidnapped her because her name did not appear on the flight manifest. Staff at the airport confirmed seeing her walk into the departure lounge at the airport but nobody could confirm seeing her walk out. Her parents even had me locked up in the police station for many months until one day I was released and allowed to go.

Today everybody says I’m mad and that’s why they have me tied up in a psychiatric ward with mad people like you. Everybody says my story is false. They say nobody goes by the name Ooskilo Kadika – That’s my girlfriends’ name. They say we are poor in my house and we have never had a car talk less of a driver.

Do you think I’m mad? How would I know this story if I never experienced it? And nobody in my family would tell me why they brought me here. I think they are the mad ones.

RAMBLINGS OF MONSIEUR PIERRE

2015-12-13T02:11:00.002-08:00

`I wrote you something because every time I open my mouth, something stupid comes out and the words don't mean what I want them to mean, not even half of what I want them to mean`. He said standing in the walk way of the plane.

`So here, go ahead`. He hands her a piece of paper.

`Hank, I'm tired of reading you`. She said.

`Seriously? I thought I was your favorite author`. She picks up the book she was reading and then puts it to his face.

`That just means I'm going to have to read it to you…out loud`. He snatched the paper put of her hand.

`No….Hank stop it! Don't be stupid`.

He goes ahead with it irrespective.

Dear Karen - that's how it starts. I've been thinking about us…the story of us. How the fuck do I sum it all up. Has it been perfect? Hardly. Any story with me in the center of it would never be anything less than a big smiling mess.

But here's what I know. Our time in the sun has been a thing of absolute fucking beauty. The nightmares, the hangovers the fucking and the punching. The gorgeous shimmering insanity of this city of ours, for where for years, I woke up, fucked up said I was sorry. Passed out and did it all over again. As a writer, I'm a sucker for happy endings. The guy gets the girls, she saves him from himself, fade to fucking black. As a guy who loves a girl, I realise there's no such thing. There's no sunset. There's just now and there's just the two of us which can be scary fucking ugly sometimes. But if you close your eyes and listen for the whisper of your heart. If you simply keep trying and never ever give up no matter how many times you get it wrong.

Until the beginning and end blur into something called – until we meet again…….

That's it, I didn't know how to finish it. Because it's not over. It would never be over. As long as there's you, there's me and there's hope and grace. Californication S7 finale.

Before now, I had never watched the show or seen an episode until two nights ago when my brother asked my drunk self to take out my ear plugs and listen to something. So I’m drowsy and tipsy and drunk but I manage to sit up in bed and listen. And even though at that time I was struggling very hard to connect my emotions to the content of that letter, what made me gush out smiling was listening to Elton John’s Rocket Man come on as the show was about to come to an end. I knew I had to go back when I was much sober to listen to what he said to her.

I did that last night and now I’ve probably listened to that song more than 500 times, no jokes. But more importantly, the last five minutes of the show is what has me believing that one day in the future I would be with someone who would make me feel that same powerful, undiluted raw emotion. Someone who would feel for me and love me and care for me on the same level as I do her. Someone who would want me and treat me like I’m everything even on the bad days, someone who would understand me and stay with me and fight with me to keep US, even when the odds are against us. Someone who would believe in me and be optimistic about a forever together.

It feels almost impossible to find someone like that in recent times. People hardly want to try these days. The fear of commitment and getting hurt in the end, past experiences with people, other people’s stories has relegated some people to believe that love doesn’t exist and together forever is a myth. It’s okay to believe whatever you want and it is also very okay to hold yourself in whatever regards as to whatever would work for you and what not. But I think love and commitment as with every other real life scenario requires trial and error sometimes. Very tasking – if I do say so myself – putting yourself in the position to get hurt by somebody but I have never seen anything wrong in trying. In trying I mean two people who find each other attractive, wanting to make something out of nothing. Almost the most difficult thing to decipher. Does he like me as he says or its just sex? I don’t think she likes me, she probably has a vendetta…..the questions keep springing up until one day you wake up and shut out any possibility of anything at all happening. Because, fear.

I’m not going to talk about other people’s preferences and wants and ideals and how they choose to go about their daily lives dealing with love and its many ghosts. I’m just so in my feelings now – definitely not in love, yet – but just thinking about it is so soothing. I’m in a happy place right now. Every time I try to get with someone and I fail at it, I leave knowing I tried and even if it might not have been enough it’s a step closer to what I have always dreamed of.

Love is beautiful and amazing and it’s really the best feeling ever. You’re sitting in bed thoughtless and next thing you’re smiling and gushing. I used to think the talk about butterflies in your stomach is a myth till it happened to me and I never wanted it to go. It makes you do stupid things, like extremely stupid things. But for someone you love hayyyyyy, be stupid away. I have not entirely been a great guy. You must think that because I’m emotional I haven’t had phases where I was likened to the devil. And even though I don’t say it directly to the people I have hurt with my actions consciously or unconsciously, I’m forever sorry and apologetic for being the reason why someone is sad. For the sake of inner peace.

Down the line I have learnt to listen a lot. I have learnt to be more understanding and accommodating. I mean a relationship is basically to different people coming together trying to merge their ideals and beliefs. It requires a lot of understanding and patience and a lot of love. I have learnt to trust and allow whoever I’m dating or trying to get with the benefit of the doubt to always be able to do what’s right all the time. The power of forgiveness can never be under estimated. Sometimes all it takes is one mistake and your ability to forgive for everything to piece together. Only that a lot of the time people would try to take advantage of the fact that you’re very forgiving. They would do all these things and then come back to apologise because they know you’d always be there waiting to take them back with open arms. Sometimes that grace lapses and it really just signals the beginning of the end of something that’s supposed to be beautiful.

Patience and perseverance too. Different strokes for different strokes. Some people take to loving you like you want or expect or deserve without much stress, others might have to grow into it and learn to be just that.

Knowing when to say sorry when I’m wrong. And even when I’m the one who’s right I really can’t stand not talking to my woman so I’m just there saying sorry. Just because we could be making out now or doing something better with our time but one person feels the need to be stubborn over nothing and the other person is feigning ignorance. Not me.

I learnt to be happy all the time. I learnt to always look at every scenario from the most optimistic side. I learnt to accept the things I cannot change and live with them. I learnt to be happy in whatever situation and make the best out of it. I learnt to never give up. And even when it’s all shit and gone down the drain, it’s really not as bad as it might look.

I have had to accept that in the pursuit of love and happiness, I would doubt my sanity sometimes. It’s tasking and draining and on some days I have had to stop trying and ask myself `to what end is this? `. But then I look at other people who have it good and I look at what I have had in the past. The relationships I messed up and the ones that left me hurt and I’m happy because I have known what love feels like. I know that someday, maybe not today, or tomorrow or not even in a few years I would find someone who fifty years into always and forever, I would still gush about.

TINU'S TALE - PART FOUR

2015-06-28T09:56:00.001-07:00

When I woke up my mother and sister had left but Shola was there. He had cuddled up in the chair beside my bed and was deep in his sleep. That gave me enough time to think of what to say to him when he starts asking questions. There was some pain and discomfort in my stomach so I decided to sit up to find a more comfortable position to lay in. Wrong thing to do. I unconsciously put all my body weight on the already sore and swollen hand that the IV fluid was connected to. I screamed. I screamed so loud that all the nurses and doctors on the floor rushed to my bedside including Shola who scrambled out of the chair. One of the doctors examined me before administering some pain killers to ease the pain and discomfort and everybody was relieved to find out that it wasn’t anything life threatening.

After the doctors and nurses left, Shola shut the door behind them and then came to sit by my side. I could see all the confusion and mixed emotions on his face. He looked very confused and I wouldn’t blame him, that was all me. I myself was in a predicament of my own as I had still not thought of anything to say that wouldn’t end my already strained marriage. Then he held my hand and put it in his. I could tell he was very nervous because of the way he squeezed my hand and how he couldn’t look me in the face. With his head down, staring veraciously into the ground, he asked -

‘What Happened’

I love the things I love and I care for the things and people that matter to me. I’m not as emotional as your average woman but I’m not also stone hearted. Before then, I don’t remember ever crying as an adult. Not at funerals, never tears of joy and definitely not because of a man. But that day, I cried. Why I was crying and how it even happened I don’t know, but when the tears started to roll down my face I knew I was close to coming up with something. I cried and cried and cried until my pillow was soaked I couldn’t roll out anymore tears. Meanwhile all through the time I cried he didn’t still look at me. He just held my hand and continued whispering the words ‘What Happened’. As if to say ‘when you are done crying, you would still answer my question’. At that point, I couldn’t decide on what I was fighting for. My marriage, our child or myself. I picked the latter.

I was raped Shola. I was raped. I knew his stance on the rape. He had once told me a story about how he was molested by one of his uncles while growing up. Till this day, the memories still haunt him. So I knew if I was ever going to stand a chance at keeping my family together, it would have to be something that would appeal deeply to his emotions.

And just like that, I had set in motion the beginning of a series of unforgivable events.

He eased his grip on my hand and started to caress it. And for the first time in as many hours, he looked at me. He opened his mouth and tried to talk, but the words won’t come out. Instead, he started to cry. I almost burst out laughing, I don’t know why but it just seemed like the right thing to do. In my head, I was thinking ‘Is this how easy it is to get you?’ but I also knew better than to be stupid and cheesy, so I stayed there and acted like a lifeless being wearing my best puppy face expression.

Who did this to you? When did it happen? Is it someone I know? I need you to tell me everything, everything. Because I am going to get to the root of it and the culprit would be severely dealt with.

I almost said it was Chibuzor - because I needed him to suffer for all the inappropriate amazing sex we were having, but it would have eventually boomeranged back on me. Because if he goes to confront Chibuzor, it would it would result to him (chibuzor) dishing out everything about the affair – the messages, the pictures, a lot of the truth and then some lies to save his head. The ripple effect would have been so much for me, suicide might be my only option, that was a no go area. I had to come up with something quick. I needed to come up with a series of lies that I could easily just tell without having to think a lot and without it contradicting the previous lies I had told. Luckily for me or fortunately for me, the god of tears (if there’s anything like that), blessed my eyes with a sack or two and in no time my other pillow was drenched in tears.

You remember that day I didn’t sleep at home and then I called you the next day to say I had to rush down to Ibadan and something something about bad network? Yes, it was that day and there was no Ibadan. I was raped.

He sighed. I don’t get it. I don’t understand you just said. Where were you raped? Here in Lagos? Where exactly and who? And why did you just come home? I am your husband I would have protected you. Maybe not against the rape since I wasn’t there but you wouldn’t have had to go through this alone. You should have talked to me about it. When we took those vows on the alter it is because of things like this. Through thick and thin. Tell me, what if you died? Did you at any point in time consider the possibility of that child being mine? No! You got up one day and decided to kill the baby.

Would you please shut up, like just shut up? I yelled. Now, I was fitting well into the role of the victim and I was feeling all the emotions like I had actually been raped.

I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how to say it and I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. It didn’t make sense at all and it still doesn’t make sense. And just like how I didn’t talk to you about it, I haven’t spoken to anybody about it. Do you think I’m proud of myself? Do you think I’m happy to be in this situation I am in? Do you think I wanted to be raped?

I was driving home from work that night and I noticed the car was moving funny. There were barely any cars and people on that road and the street lights were on. So I thought it was safe enough to park the car and do a quick check. So I parked on one side of the road and got down to look around the car when I noticed I had a flat tire. I obviously do not know how to change tires and I didn’t think it safe to park the car there till the next morning. I had to look for an alternative. Luckily for me or so I thought, I walked to one end of the street and saw some young guys talking and having drinks just by the gate of the street. I told them about my plight and they were willing to help as long as I parted with some cash when they were done which I agreed to. They had suffessfully changed the tire and I had gone into the car to pick my bag to give them some money as agreed. I turned around to see three boys with their pants down, obviously drunk making passes at me.

Do you still want me to continue the story and tell you how three boys took turns on me? And how I don’t recognize them and how I’m not sure about the paternity of the unborn baby I was carrying? Do you think I haven’t gone through enough pain? Do you think this was easy for me to do?

I had just delivered an academy award performance. In all my life, I had never had to tell a lie that big. For what it was worth, he bought it.

He hugged me tight and didn’t say anything, but cry. Then the shocker came.

The abortion wasn’t a successful one as the baby is still in there alive and kicking. Your body has gone through a lot of stress and even if I support your decision to have the fetus taken out; it might damage your womb and render you barren.

My whole world, all the lies, the pain, everything was now in vain. I still had Chibuzors baby in me.

COUNSELOR EDWARDS DIARY

2015-06-08T11:16:00.001-07:00

It was now six months since the last time Dolapo and Ezinne spoke. They were married and had been living together for five years but for six months nobody said a word to the other person. Insane right? I thought so too. When Ezinne came to me to seek my counsel and told me about the situation of things in her marriage, I was engulfed with mixed feelings. I didn’t know whether to laugh, at the part where she said she would intentionally walk around the room naked after taking a shower and she would notice him twist and turn under the duvet trying to control his erection, or shout at her for allowing their children have to live under that condition, or sober up with her because somehow in the span of six months, the relationship they had managed to build together in seven years was breaking apart and nobody seemed bothered to fight for its survival. I am her counselor so it would be unprofessional of me to show any of these emotions.

How did it start?

Ezinne – ‘I’m a very jealous person. I know this for a fact because my last two relationships ended as a result of my insecurity problems. I met Dolapo when I was at my lowest point. I had just gotten out of a relationship, the break up was bad and somehow he was there. He was there for me’. She said teary eyed. ‘When I needed someone to talk to at 2am because I couldn’t sleep, he would stay up with me and talk till I dozed off. He was there. Every day after work he made it a point of duty to see me and make sure I was doing well. And it wasn’t long before my attention shifted from Stanley (my ex), to Dolapo. I had become very fond of him and him of me. We bonded easily and the chemistry was crazy. He was funny, he still is very funny – he would make these silly, stupid jokes that would have the sides of my belly hurt because of prolonged laughter. He was nice, he was kind, he was caring, he was generous, and he was what I just needed to complete me. He knew the right things to say, he was just right for me. So when the talk of us dating came up, I didn’t think it twice. Yes! Yes! Yes!

We dated for two years and on the eve of our second anniversary, he asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes, but let me tell you how he did it. Are you sure you want to hear it? It’s quite a long tale and beautiful one at that. She asked, with a big grin on her face.

Well if you think it would give me an insight about how to help you, you can go on.

I had always told him I wanted a public proposal, I’m quite vain. I knew I wanted to marry him from the time he asked me out but I also wanted to have pictures of him on one knee asking me to marry him. Pictures taken by a professional photographer – I’m vain like that. So from the beginning of the second year of us dating, whenever he asked us to go out id make sure my hair was well done, make up, nails, outfit all looking perfect just in case he was going to do it. Call me whatever you want but it is what I wanted and hell yeah he delivered.

Dolapo was a big Michael Bolton fan and it so happened that he was going to be the guest artiste at a concert in Civic Center. I wanted to give him a pre anniversary gift, so I got us tickets to attend the concert. We were there in the V.I.P, Michael was performing ‘Say you say me’ and as we sang along he received a phone call. He said it was important and he had to take it so he excused himself. I sat there by myself taking pictures and singing along while I waited for him. He was done singing that particular song and Dolapo wasn’t back still. I wanted to get up and go look for him, but each time Michael would make a failed attempt at speaking pidgin English and the whole hall would erupt in laughter, myself inclusive. I didn’t want to miss it so I sat back. ‘When he is done, he would come back’. I thought. Then Michael announced he was going to bring up someone to the stage, a big fan of his who had paid a lot of money to grace stage with him. Now I was getting angry ‘how the hell would Dolapo just disappear like that after the stress I went through getting us the tickets’. Lo and Behold, the supposed fan was Dolapo. My Dolapo was on stage with Michael. I screamed till I started to cry. They sang together and he kept winking at me while at it. I was so excited, so much that I couldn’t have thought about what was going to happen next. He (Dolapo), looked at Michael who nodded back at him and then he asked one of the bouncers to bring me to the stage. I was super shy. The cameras were on me, everybody was looking at me and for twenty seconds I stood there still in shock. I couldn’t move my feet. Then everybody started to clap and then I felt my left leg move till I was on stage. Then power supply goes off. How? Why should the lights go out? Not when I was about to have my moment. Then the lights came back on and as I turned, I and saw Dolapo on his knee with a cute little black box in his hand. Oh no he isn’t going to do what I think he is about to do!!! What? He was going to propose in front of this large crowd, at a Michael Bolton concert? I was crying. I cried, I cried so much Michael handed me a tissue. My make up was ruined but I could care less. I got proposed to at Michael Boltons concert, nothing tops that. It was beautiful, it was perfect.

Six months later we were married and in less than a year there was a baby. We named her Oluwafunmilayo Chiamaka Adeyemi. She was beautiful, very quiet and didn’t cry much. Just ate and slept. It wasn’t until after the baby we had our first major fight. All through the time we were dating everything was just perfect and smooth. We quarreled sometimes but in minutes everything would get squashed. So when this quarrel happened, I thought it was going to just end like the others but no. For three days he won’t say anything to me.

What happened?

When we were dating, there were times when I suspected him of cheating on me. He would receive calls and then stand up to go out and receive them. He would later come back to say, it was work. Other times he would take the call in my presence and whisper throughout the conversation that was after I complained to him about it. i thought that was over but he was now doing the same thing after we had gotten married and it was getting me really uncomfortable. One morning when he went into the shower after receiving one of such calls, I took his phone and looked up the contact. It was a stored with a guy’s name; I can’t remember the name now. I checked the contact on whatsapp and it was a guy’s picture that popped. He spent a while in the bathroom which afforded me time to go over his phone as long as I wanted but I found nothing. I simply concluded it was just me being paranoid so I stopped worrying.

After the baby came, the calls doubled. Worse is, he was receiving the calls in the dead of the night - which most of the time would disrupt my sleep and that of the baby’s, who slept in our bed. I complained and complained and complained and he would apologise and claim its work and there were foreign investors his company was trying to woo and because he was the best at what he did, the onus lay on him to seal the deal. In my head I’m thinking ‘is this man not mad? Do I look like a kid that you would be telling this kind of stupid lie to’. Anyway it happened again one night and I was fed up. When he was done with the call I simply got up took the phone from his side and went and dumped it in the water closet. He went mad and for the first time I saw him angry. He didn’t hit me, he just shouted and shouted then went to the bathroom to get the phone that was now already bad, but I really could not give a damn. I had tried and I felt he was disrespecting me so I did what I felt I had to do. That night he slept in the sitting room. For three days he didn’t eat the food I cooked for him, I would try to talk to him and he would act like I was invisible. On the fourth day I couldn’t keep up anymore so I begged and begged and cried and won’t let him go off to work without talking to me. He eventually did and when he came home that night even bought me a gift. We moved on.

After that incident everything just seemed fine again. I went back to work and we were once again this beautiful couple until the second baby came. It wasn’t the calls this time; it was the late nights and drunken state he used to come home in that worried me and even now sometimes he doesn’t even sleep at home. I tried everything I could to make him go back to my Dolapo, even going as far as getting his father involved. He would tell him things are fine and then come home and continue his silent treatment. It felt like everything I did pushed him even further away. He didn’t give me a reason for his sudden change of attitude, he just went off. After a while I got tired of trying so I stopped bothering because I thought that eventually he would come around. But six months down, I don’t know who I married anymore.

I’m only now very bothered because I have needs. As a woman, I have needs. I need to be pleasured, I need to be adored, and I need to feel wanted by my husband but I’m getting none of it. I want to have sex, I want to have lots of sex because I feel like I would drop dead soon if I don’t or even give in to any guy that offers.

I don’t think my body shape has been altered in anyway by the pregnancies. I mean, I still get looked at by young men or does he have doubts about the paternity of these children? Because since we got together I haven’t been with any man other than him.

I just really need help, I need answers. I don’t have questions to ask anymore because there are no questions. I haven’t done any wrong here and thinking about it is getting me worked up. I’m thinking about fixing something I don’t know. I don’t have anything to say anymore, I just need answers. I need you to tell me that it would be fine because irrespective of whatever, I still really love him and divorce isn’t in my books.

TINU'S TALE - PART THREE

2014-07-04T11:00:00.000-07:00

He lived in one of the high rise buildings on Bourdillon road Ikoyi. When we got there, he took me up the elevator to the 8^th floor and then we walked down the corridor to his apartment. The white walls of the sitting room was adorned by beautiful paintings and some Biafra artefacts, a few pictures of him, his siblings and his extended family but there was none of him with any woman or with any kids. So it was okay to rule out the thought of him being married. He then led me to master bedroom where he handed me a clean white towel, a doll dress and under wear to change into. I was surprised. What man keeps feminine underwear?

“Err.....Chibuzor who owns these things and why do you have them in your possession?” I queried.

He looked at me and smiled “I bought them for days like this. You wouldn’t want to go to bed wearing the same underwear you had on all day would you? Especially after our little extra vocational activity”. He mused.

“So every girl you bring to your slaughter house ends up leaving with souvenirs in the form of underwear and dresses? Interesting”

“You should go and take a shower while I fix us something to eat; dinner won’t make itself”.

“But I’m not hungry; I just want to indulge in those extra activities with you all night”. I didn’t know how these words fell out of my mouth, but they did and I was left embarrassed for a few seconds.

He came up to me and pulled me off the bed, held me close and whispered into my ear “Patience my dear, patience”. He planted wet kisses on my neck and grabbed my right butt cheek and with his left hand pulled my hair from behind and stared into my eyes – it was scary, but a big turn on. Then he pushed me against the wall and started to kiss me. He raised up my skirt, then my right leg and clipped it onto his while we made out like teenagers. I could feel his bulge press up on me and I wanted him to have me there, but he stopped.

“You would always have this, you would always have me...now go and take a bath and get ready for dinner. You’d need some food to give you energy for what I’m going to indulge you in tonight”.

“Yes Daddy”. I replied sardonically.

As I moved towards the bathroom I couldn’t help but notice my phones on the bed, but at that time I could care less about my husband would think and not even the thought of my son softened my already hardened heart. It’s crazy the type of hold Chibuzor had on me; I knew what I was doing was wrong but I didn’t give a damn. I was happy in the space I was with him. When I was done showering I got into the silk agent provocateur babydoll dress and underwear he gave me and went out to the kitchen. Whatever it was he was cooking smelled delicious.

“What are you cooking babe?” I asked as I held him from behind while he added some spice into what he was cooking.

“I get to be babe tonight?” he replied smiling. “I’m making spaghetti bolognaise but with some ginger and garlic....I hear it would heighten our libidos”

“Hmmm...Libidos ey? I see someone wants to be extra naughty tonight. I hope you got condoms though, because I’m not ready for any unwanted pregnancy or any pregnancy at all”.

He kept cooking and seemed uninterested in what I said.

“Chibuzor!! I’m sure you heard me the first time. Anyway, no condom no sex”. I said in my now serious tone.

He stopped stirring the sauce and pulled me close – “You sure about that?” Then he kissed me softly on my lip and pressed himself on me.

“Well, no. But I think we should protect ourselves don’t you think? Who knows what you’re carrying or what I’m carrying and with this mood of yours tonight I’m not planning on getting pregnant”. He gave out a loud hysterical laugh.

“What are you saying woman? We already had sex twice without condoms and you pick now...today, as the time to start using them? Come off it. If either of us has any venereal disease it would have been transferred already, but I’m sure we are both clean and what’s with all the pregnancy talk. Can’t you mother my child?”

“You’re actually crazier than I thought; as if sleeping with you isn’t bad enough you are talking about having a child. You better go have that discussion with one of your hook ups”.

He managed to give off a fake smile after which he went back to cooking, while I went to the sitting room to catch up on my favourite soap opera. Over dinner we talked basically about work stuff and life in general and it’s funny how we never talked about Shola at anytime, not even once. After the delicious meal came dessert; dessert being me. Before then, I’d never allowed any man go down on me, that is engage me in oral sex not even Shola. Always felt it was dirty and wrong, but Chibuzor – that man never gives up. He was hell bent on indulging me in this obscene act and his insistence and persistence soon paid off as I eventually gave in. Oh boy!! Forget any negative feeds you might have gotten or heard about oral sex. It’s the best type of foreplay any man can indulge a woman in. We had countless rounds of sex till we eventually fell asleep.

I woke up pretty late the next day, very tired and restless. When I checked the time it was already 8:40am or thereabout. I turned to the other side of the bed where Chibuzor laid but he wasn’t there. So I hurdled out of bed and went around the house looking for him but he was nowhere to be found. Only to get back to the room and find a note on the side stool.

Hey

You looked very sound asleep and didn’t want to wake you

anyway I’m off to work and I hope you’re up early enough to get to work else you’d have a query waiting for you.

You might also want to think of a good lie to tell your husband. I’m sure he would be dying inside to hear from you.

“Wow!! Look at this bastard”. I couldn’t even blame him, there was no point crying over spilled milk. He had shown me the type of person he was the first time but I was still stupid enough to let my feelings get the better of me. There and then, I made up my mind that the affair with him was over and never again in the duration of my marriage would I be caught up in any adulterous web. I still needed to shower, get into clean clothes and go to work. Then I still needed to settle down and come up with the perfect lie for my husband. It sure was going to be a very long day.

It was now 9am and I knew either way I was still going to be queried by the good for nothing bastard for coming late even when he was my reason for doing so there was no point rushing to work. I headed home instead and took a clean shower, got the maid to fix me something quick before heading to work. My phones were still off and all I prayed for was that Shola didn’t feel the need to come over to my office. What would I do, what would I say?

I pondered on this for a long while till I finally came up with something. I went downstairs and stood by the busy road where I placed a call to Shola.

“Hey babe, I’m so sorry I haven’t called you. I was asked to rush down to our factory in Ibadan yesterday to sort out something, but that meeting ran till late in the night hence my reason for not coming home last night. The network was messed up, calls weren’t going through and data service was even worse. I’m so sorry babe I hope I didn’t get you too worried. How is Sesan?”

“I’m fine and he’s fine too. I was already on my way to your office when your call came in. You really shouldn’t do that next time, I’m sure if you sent a text I would have gotten it. I called Chibuzors phone countless times too but he didn’t take his calls. You really shouldn’t be doing that to people that care about you, you got us all worried. What kind of stupid work is it you’re doing that’s making you act irresponsible that you’re forgetting your duty as a wife and mother? Look, you’re soon going to have to stop that job because I don’t understand this nonsense”.

“Oko mii, I’m sorry. Please I promise it would never happen again. Please I’m sorry I would always keep in touch no matter how caught up I am with work”.

“That’s your business. If it happens again be sure you’re never going to work again for as long as we are married”.

He didn’t let me say anything again before he hung up the phone. I heaved a big sigh of relief. Thank God he didn’t come over.

I wasn’t seeing Chibuzor anymore and for the next few weeks/one month, all I did was enjoy time with my family. Then one morning I woke up extremely tired, threw up a few times and was sick in my stomach. I was very hungry and angry at the same time about everything. Like the smallest things that I would normally pass on from started to piss me off. I couldn’t go to work that morning so I called in sick and in the afternoon, Shola sent his driver to come and take me to the hospital. It wasn’t until after I told the doctor my symptoms that I realised I was pregnant. Christ Jesus. He ran every possible test on me including the pregnancy test and to ascertain my fear, he came back and told me that I was pregnant.

I was pregnant with chibuzors child – the worst thing that could have happened.

In the three-four weeks that I had stopped seeing chibuzor, I slept with my husband just once and even that time he didn’t ejaculate, because he was angry at how I was motionless in bed and allowed him do all the work. So there was no way the child could have been his. The doctor gave me a few drugs after which he congratulated me again and told me he would speak to Shola later in the day to also congratulate him. That was when I realised I needed to devise a plan to get myself out of the predicament I had gotten myself in. I pleaded with him not to tell Shola yet as we had been having issues and I would prefer to surprise him with the news of a new child when I deemed it right. He gladly agreed.

When Shola got home from work, I simply told him it was all work stress and the doctor had prescribed some drugs that would relieve me in a matter of days. I decided not to let Chibuzor in on this development and in the following days I started checking around for a doctor that could perform an abortion on me. I found one who seemed to match the profile of who and what I wanted so I booked an appointment for the next week. I met with him at his hospital somewhere on the Lekki-Epe express way. It was very discreet and not a place anybody could easily locate which was fine by me. He did an examination on me and informed me that I was six weeks pregnant so all he would give me were drugs to expel the growing foetus. He handed the drugs to me, some of which I was asked to take in his office and the others to be taken when I got home; and in return, I paid him a very handsome amount of money.

He told me I would feel dizzy and my tummy would hurt a lot but that I shouldn’t worry as that was the usual body reaction to the drugs. So when I got home and started feeling the stomach pains, I decided to take some sleeping pills that would knock me out while the drugs destroyed the foetus.

I woke up at the family hospital with the doctor, Shola, my mother and sister by my side. The look on their faces said it all, they knew about the abortion. What would be my reason for abortion? I shut back my eyes and sought the great oblivion of sleep.

TINU'S TALE - PART TWO

2014-06-06T14:45:00.000-07:00

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Chibuzor whispered into my ear.

“Oh no! Not you again.” I grumbled as I sat up and saw him sitting on my desk.

“Please leave my office, I’m trying to work.” I said yawning, as I laid my head back on the desk to continue sleeping. He gave out a sarcastic laugh.

“Are you working or sleeping? Don’t forget I’m your supervisor. If you keep up this way, then I’d be forced to write you a query and then ask management to demote you since you’re starting to act like the job is too big for you to handle”.

I sat back up immediately. “Excuse me Mr Supervisor! Last I remember, this is my office and whatever I decide to do in it isn’t your business or anybody’s. And I would want to believe that in your report to management, you’d explain in detail how you pounced on an innocent woman and defiled her in her office”.

“Defile? How about the word consensual or voluntary. I saw in you a weak woman, who was sex starved and loveless and I offered to help out of free will. Now if she were being defiled she would have shouted… No? Wouldn’t have been dripping wet too and most definitely wouldn’t be moaning. After I kissed you I could that you wanted me, no, you needed me and I acted accordingly. Madam, you really don’t have an argument here.”

“Don’t you feel any form of remorse? I’m a married woman; married to one of your best friends for Gods sake and you sit there and talk to me like I’m a play toy? Oh Jesus what have I brought upon myself?” I started crying.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Enough of the theatricals please. Why are you crying? You didn’t enjoy it or you’d have wanted us to do it somewhere else or you’d have rather I used a condom?

“You are a pathetic good for nothing son of a dog, how dare you talk to me like that? You do something this awful thing to me; something I’d never want a third party hear about and all you do is make a joke out of it? Get out of my office this minute before I do something far worse to you. Get the hell out of my office.” I yelled out at him.

“Calm down darling I know how you feel, I totally do. It’s normal for you to cry, be angry and rant; its all part of the denial phase. Until you accept that this is what you want, and then you’d come around and…” he had gotten up from the desk and was now standing in front of me. He held me close to him again, not minding that anybody could see us through the transparent doors. And as he tried to kiss me, I bit his lip and landed a deafening slap on his face. He looked startled, I think mortified clearly explains the look he had on because he definitely wasn’t expecting that type of reaction from me. He adjusted his suit and tie and made way to the door and as he held out, he looked back at me with a smirk “you’d come around, you’d come around” and then he jammed the door. I looked around and was relieved to see that nobody had witnessed what had just happened.

I felt it was over, I felt like I had defeated this evil and in my head I had popped a dozen bottles of champagne in celebration. I didn’t do much again that day at work as I drifted between sadness and excitement – but more of excitement – and at the close of work I headed home to prepare dinner for my husband. Out of nowhere I started to miss my husband, I felt like a high school girl that had just fallen in love. The thought of going home and spending the night in his arms filled my belly with butterflies. On my way, I stopped at the market and bought fresh fish, some vegetable and yam flour to prepare my husbands favourite meal of amala and efo riro.

I got home to find his car in the garage, which was strange as he’s never home early. Anyway, I made way into the house; Sesan ran up to me and gave me a big hug – I feel very bad saying that up to that time, I hadn’t seen my son in two days and we lived in the same house. The housemaid came out of the kitchen and took the foodstuffs in while I played with Sesan for a bit before going to the room to freshen up.

“Where is your daddy?” I enquired.

“He is in the room”. He replied with his beautiful soft voice. I walked into the room to find Shola in his towel doing some sit-ups.

How come you’re back early? He teased.

“How come you’re back early too? I replied.

“Well I’ve missed my wife a lot and I don’t like what this new job of hers is doing to our marriage, so I decided to come home early to make dinner for us before you get back and I got a movie we could watch after dinner too”

“Awwww that’s so sweet and thoughtful of you. I’m sorry I haven’t really been there these past few days. Don’t worry I’d make it up to you daddy. And you wont also believe that on my way home, I stopped by at the market to pick up a few things to make you amala and efo.”

“Really? In that case I’d suggest we eat out tonight. Catch up over some unknown continental dish and champagne. What do you think?”

“That’d be great. But what about Sesan?”

“We can always take him to the amusement park”. We both laughed.

He took me to the Golden Gate Restaurant in Ikoyi to dine and while having appetizers, the worst that could have happened, happened. Chibuzor walked in and headed straight in our direction. I almost threw the soup in my mouth out. What the hell is he doing here? Jesus Christ! Can rapture just happen? I was trying to dock and also shield Shola from his view, but he had already walked to our table.

“Chi Chi my man how you dey? Good to see you man.”

“Sholly shols I dey o…how work na and how’s the family?”

“We thank God o, everything is going on fine”.

“Shola, Tinu please meet Fatima - my girlfriend”.

“ Chi Chi, finally? Oh we thank God. Nice to meet you Fatima”.

Great! So the bastard has a girlfriend? Why is she so tall? See all the make up she has on, see her short dress too, I’m sure if I look very close I’d see her vagina. She definitely is a whore or an escort.

“Nice to meet you Fatima.” I grudgingly said with a fake smile as I shook her hand.

“Err…would you please join us for dinner, if you don’t mind”. I almost went berserk when Shola asked them to join us and even almost spilled my glass of wine on Fatima when Chibuzor obliged to Shola’s offer. I mean I thought it was a night for both of us to unwind and relax but now we had unwanted guests.

Before they came to disrupt what was supposed to be a memorable night, I was sitting just across the table from Shola. Chibuzor took the seat beside me, while Fatima sat next to Shola. Dinner was going on fine and we were having wonderful conversations and I must say I was very surprised to find out how knowledgeable and well spoken Fatima was after I had written her off; until I felt Chibuzor’s hand on my thighs. My first instinct was to grab the bottle of wine and break it on his head, but I instead I took a deep breath and moved his hand away. He didn’t stop at that. He kept doing it until he forced his hand deep between my thighs to my crotch less underwear. I moaned softly and gasped for breath for about thirty seconds.

It was heavenly, but wrong.

One part of me was ecstatic and sexually driven by this act; another part of me wanted none of the action. From that time till when we were set to leave, his left hand dwelt in between my legs and it felt good. Shola would never try to be inappropriate with me not even when we are behind closed doors, but Chibuzor gave this whole sex thing a new feel. I hated that I had cheated on my husband and I hated it more that it was with his best friend. I was disgusted by Chibuzor’s lack of shame and emotional empathy especially the fact that he had a woman at the table and was unperturbed by her presence while he aroused me, but I also would be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t starting to get caught up in his web.

I got home that night feeling all kinds of emotions. Earlier in the day all I wanted was to be in the arms of my husband and make love to him and just talk till late at night, but as I lay there in bed and watched Shola pound me with all the energy he had, all I could think of was Chibuzor.

He definitely wasn’t joking when he said I’d come around.

Days passed, weeks passed and Chibuzor didn’t say anything to me or try to get physical with me after what happened at the dinner table. He started frequenting our house on weekends to watch football matches with Shola in the company of Fatima. I started getting uncomfortable; more like jealous. I’d make passes at him at work; send him text messages and sometimes emails – he wouldn’t respond to any.

Then one day I was at work till late, waiting for the traffic on the high way to ease up before hitting the road when thoughts of our last sexual encounter came into my head. I looked at the desk and tried to reproduce the images when I got aroused. I raised up my skirt and started masturbating and then I remembered I saw Chibuzor walking down the hall way. So I grabbed my phone and took pictures of my breasts and vagina and sent it to him with the caption “COME TO MY OFFICE NOW”. He appeared in my office before I even deleted the pictures off my phone and dropped it back on the table. It was just us in the whole building asides the security personnel who were outside. We did it on the desk, floor, on my chair…everywhere in the office. And while we dressed up after committing what seemed like a necessary evil, his phone almost fell out of his pocket so he took it out and placed it on the table when he noticed that he had mistakenly dialled Shola’s number and the call lasted about twenty minutes.

Going home that day seemed like judgement day for me so I turned off my phones and went on to sleep over at Chibuzors.

TINU’S TALE

2014-05-29T14:47:00.001-07:00

When he came back into the room, I swear I could feel my soul leave my body. I was sitting in the top corner of the bed, my head in my legs…crying, terrified and visibly shaking. He paced around the room murmuring to himself and I knew how vicious he could get should he hear me utter any words so I decided to keep to myself and make silent prayers that nothing infuriates him further to make him hit me again. After a while the pacing stopped and when I put up my head, and he was gone. I heaved a big sigh of relief and stretched out my legs only to see him reappear, wielding a bag that he swung at me.

“There’s a dress and shoe in the bag, get dressed we have a party to attend”.

“Oh! Snap”. I remembered we had been invited to a friend’s cook out dinner, that I wished I could pass on, but I wasn’t ready to get into another fight with Shola. Sigh.

My eyes were swollen, and they hurt badly each time I tried to blink. I could barely move any part of my body without feeling pains, but I managed to get up and walk towards the bathroom. Shola stood there by the door watching me writhe in pain as I got out of bed without showing any type of emotion.

So we would attend this party keeping up appearances? Acting like everything is good when in reality our household is on fire?

I wasn’t going to start throwing blame around; I just wished things were different and was hoping he would be able to forgive me and allow us work things out. I wished I could collapse and die right there or maybe even slump and fall into a coma and know that would be spared from his wrath; but like they say man proposes, God disposes.

`For how long would this go on for? ` . I murmured to myself.

I didn’t know he heard every word of it; next thing I remember, I’m inside the bath tub with a pack of ice strapped around my head. I tried to get out of it but the pain in my head was so much, I had to lie back in. I was in there for another half hour, like a lifeless soul when he came in to brush his teeth. He leaned on the wash hand basin with his eyes fixed on me; I could see the anger, hate and disgust in his eyes and it was then that I begged him to kill me, because I couldn’t take it anymore, but he didn’t seem perturbed at all.

“Shola please kill me, shola I cant continue to live like this. You won’t talk to me but beat me, you won’t listen to me, and you won’t even allow me leave. I’m sorry Shola, I really am but I can’t continue to live like this”

He didn’t say anything or seem to be interested in anything I had said. When he was done brushing he cleaned up and wiped his hands then came to where I laid, held me by my neck and whispered into my ear.

`I’m not going to kill you Tinu. But I would make you suffer every day for the rest of your life for everything you did to me. For every time I remember how you cheated on me with that good for nothing bastard, for every time I remember how you defiled our bed with that boy and for every time I have to doubt the paternity of that child you call my own, I would inflict pain on you and watch you writhe in pain till you eventually die`. He said as tears rolled down his eyes.

`Don’t I do enough for you? Before you ask me for anything, I provide for it. Money was never your problem; you had the luxury of expensive clothes and getting first class treatments whenever you travelled. I did this because I didn’t want you to go through the type of stress I get off my job everyday and that’s why I always go out of my way to make sure your comfortable. First time you asked to work after you had that child, I stood against it. I didn’t want it because I wanted you to be a stay at home mother to take care of the baby but no you refused to listen. When your complaints about being bored at home became unbearable, I set up a business for you. I put over ten million naira into that business over the span of three years and what did you do in the end? You messed up all the finances, we moved on from that. When Sesan became five you nagged and nagged about wanting to take an official job; against my wish but because I wanted you to be happy I fixed you up at that firm, a decision you have made me to regret`. He held on to my neck tightly as he cried uncontrollably.

`I’m sorry Shola, I really am sorry. It wasn’t intentional; I would never intentionally try to hurt you. I have no excuses for my actions, I can’t explain anything because it would not make any sense to you or to myself, but I am sorry baby`. I stuttered, crying too. He spat on my face and then he threw me back into the tub, allowing my head hit the tub causing a big gash before he walked out of the bathroom.

I knew I had failed as his friend, wife, companion and mother to our son. Yes our son because prior to the time the baby came, Shola was the only man I went to bed with. Every day before I went to bed, I prayed to God and asked him for forgiveness and for a second chance. I usually prayed to him, begging him to turn back the hands of time and allow me fix things with Shola but whenever I wake up every morning and see my pillow soaked with my tears and my body getting weak every day as a result of the beating, I had to quickly come to terms with the fact that it was a reality I’d have to live with.

We had the most beautiful wedding; it was a fairy tale of all sorts. I dolled up in a Vera Wang number while he was suited up in a Dolce and Gabbana tuxedo. He looked so yummy and I was a better-looking Cinderella.

We got back to Lagos after our honeymoon on the Island of Madagascar a week later and went back to our former lives; only this time we were married and living together as man and wife. I had just finished my NYSC program weeks before we got married and was lucky to get a job at a new generation bank but against the wish of my husband. While still pleading with him to allow me take the job pending the time our first baby would come – since he preferred me to be a stay at home parent that I grudgingly agreed to after a night of wild sex - I found out I was pregnant. I was gutted and unhappy about it because I wanted to work for a while before having children but I couldn’t complain because it was an occurrence that was bound to happen.

We had our first child Sesan in the early hours of May 14 2003. He was born a premature baby but after a few weeks in the incubator he was given to us and has been living healthily ever since. Six months down I started getting bored at home. We had employed the services of a nanny who did virtually everything asides breastfeeding the baby - which I even stopped doing after four months after a nursing friend of mine advised against it saying it could disfigure my breasts if I allowed the baby suck on my nipples all the time. Instead, before the baby gets hungry, I fill up his feeding bottles with the milk and store them in a warm place till he was ready to eat.

I wanted to work badly, I wanted to use my degree and feel relevant after all that was the reason why I went to school to get one. But anytime I tried to talk to Shola about it, he would shove it aside and instead come up with many reasons why leaving the baby alone with the nanny wasn’t a good thing to do. With a lot of persistence he finally obliged - to open a boutique for me at the mall on the condition that I carry the baby along with me every day and return back home before six. I agreed.

After renovating the store and stocking up, I was able to employ a sizable number of staff and in no time was ready for business. First year we made good sales with almost 100% profit, I was happy, he was happy and we carried that vibe into the following business year. We made quite a number of sales but some of our loyal customers who were mostly family friends started to accumulate debts. Some paid off their debts, others we wrote off as bad debts. By the beginning of the third year, we barely had anything to run the business with and we were forced to close after Shola decided he wasn’t investing anymore.

When Sesan got into primary school, I figured that was my cue to talking Shola again into allowing me get me a proper job and after months of back and forth, he finally gave in to my request and got me a job through one of his friends as a sales rep at a top manufacturing company. I was more than excited and that night we made love, so much that the next morning I woke up at lunchtime. It was the weekend though so it was easy for me to blame it on the events of the week even though I barely did anything.

I resumed work the following Monday and I won’t lie it was tough as hell because for me it all seemed new, but my supervisor who happened to be Shola’s friend showed me around and taught me a few tricks on how to get things done effectively. I made a few friends too at the office and because of my diligence and constant appraisal of my work by Chibuzor, (my supervisor/Sholas friend) I became the toast of the company in no time. During the Christmas party I was asked to anchor the event alongside a popular TV personality.

Everything seemed to be working in my favour, my marriage was getting stronger and Sesan was making progress in school, I couldn’t have asked for any better. When my schedule started making it impossible for me to pick Sesan up from school in the afternoons, I decided to get a driver to do that and also made sure the nanny fixed him up, gave him food and made him observe his siesta before I got home.

At work, Chibuzor was extra nice and after eight months of work I got entitled to a company car that would normally take two years, but he facilitated it. During lunch breaks he would bring me food from fancy restaurants, buy me gifts and nice things occasionally. I didn’t see these things as anything since he was my husband’s friend and didn’t think it to tell him anything.

Then one day at the office I had to work late. I was surprised to see Chibozor around as I thought I was the only left in the office. He came into my office and we talked and joked about work stuff while I worked.

When I was done I packed my things and got up to leave. He was sitting on the table and then he stood up and came close. He played with my hair and complimented my looks. I had braids on that I was sure was in bad condition because I’d had it on for weeks and I was looking the same way I had always looked since day one. But it felt good hearing someone tell me how beautiful I was since Shola had gotten too busy to notice anything. He took some of my hair and rolled them on his fingers. I was feeling uneasy but I went on to allow my curiosity get the better of me.

He held me by the waist and pressed his body on me, I wanted to push him away but for some reason I just stood there and allowed it. He kissed me on the neck – his hands slowly moving from my waist to my bum. It wasn’t right, I knew it wasn’t right but he had some type of hold on me. Then he moved in for the kiss, biting my upper lip first and then the lower one before sharing a deep kiss. When I came to the realization of what was happening, I pushed him off me but he wouldn’t give up.

He held me from behind, pushed the bulge in his pants against my body and grabbed my left breast. I was shocked; I wanted to strike him with my elbow and run, but the sensation.....oh the sensation. We ended up having sex on my table, good sex. When he was done I didn’t even clean up or wait for him to wear his pants back, I just pulled up my pants, rolled down my skirt and headed for the car park. I felt the saint, wife, devoted and faithful wife part of me die as I drove home because I had never cheated on any of the men I dated in the past but now the deed had been done.

I was angry, felt violated by what Chibuzor did but as much as I felt sorry for myself about what I had done, I couldn’t also help but picture the scenario in which it happened.

Adventurous.

My judgement was clouded, I fought my conscience countless times about talking to my sister about it or even telling Shola about it and hoping he would take it in good stride but another part of me would rather I kept quiet and try not to ruin my marriage. That was the first mistake.

When I got home, I showered and went straight to bed I wasn’t even in the mood to see Sesan. That was when Shola, of all days to pick a fight decided to nag about me allowing the maid make his dinner instead of me. I explained my work schedule to him and after a little spat, we were cuddled up in each other’s arms in bed. Next thing he’s touching my privates trying to turn me on and get me into the mood for sex, but I rebuffed him immediately. That was mistake number two. Since we had been married I had never ever turned down his advances for sex no matter how tired I was but on this night I just didn’t want to feel like the slut who slept with two different men in one day.

I think not talking to anybody about it and trying to solve it on my own was the biggest mistake to make as you’d find out in the next part.

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

2013-09-28T07:07:00.001-07:00

I really can’t remember anything about my childhood - from the day I was born till when I was five, but my mother always says I had it good, even better than my siblings. She worked with an airline company and most of the time if not all the time, she would have someone coming in on a flight into the country or leaving on another flight so I got gifts in cash and kind including an array of nice toys. Dad had just started working in a bank and he too got me a few nice toys.

We were living in a newly developed part of Lagos where there weren’t much good school around and that facilitated my parents decision to send me to my grandmother’s house to go to school around there. I grew up hearing everybody call my grandma Iya Mama and it has stuck ever since then. My mother was called Mama as a child and following the usual Yoruba school of thought, grandma automatically assumed the title Iya Mama. They would normally take me there on Monday mornings and come for me on Friday evenings. I was Iya Mamas first grandchild so it was only normal for her to spoil me with whatever I wanted; my aunts and uncles were also not spared from this gesture.

I had always been careless with my things at school until one weekend when I got back to our house without my water bottle. That day my mother beat me till she couldn't lift her hands anymore. That weekend she bought me another water bottle and on Monday morning on the way to my grandma's, she sounded a note of warning `Muyiwa! Make sure you come back home with this water bottle if not I would beat that spirit of carelessness out of your body and it would be the last time you would own one in this house; If you like dare me`. She said as she forced the zip of my bag open and put the water bottle in. I knew better not to call her bluff. Mother was a prolific child beater.....a professional at using the cane. She always said she learnt that from grandma.

Grandma was too nice to handle a cane, I still find it hard to believe.

From primary one to five, there were barely twelve of us in a class but that made us all got along well. I played the bass drum when I was in primary three and it was in that class that I had my first, first position grade. My father taught me how to tell the time that summer and in something that looked like a co-incidence, I was made the time keeper in primary four. Asides from being very punctual, I could also tell the time from a mile away - not every primary four pupil was able to do that. In primary five I was made the head prefect and that was a big feat to achieve back then. I wouldn’t say I was the best pupil in my class, but I sure did push my peers to their limit. At the National Common Entrance examination, over confidence got a better part of me and I performed below expectation even though I put out high scores, 486/600 to be precise. Suffice to say I was never a fan of the prestigious KINGS COLLEGE Lagos and so while other kids were looking for ways to gain admission into the revered school, I was busy taking entrance examinations into some private schools.

As much as I regard that period as one of the best phases of my life, I’m not sure if sending me to stay with my grandma was one of my parents best decisions. During my time there, I was exposed to a lot of things with pornography being on top of the list. My uncles would shut the doors to the sitting room and send every child around into their rooms whenever they wanted to indulge in watching pornography, and then one day my curiosity led me to find a bag load of pornographic discs and magazines. My aunts always had male friends over in the evenings and because my grandma was an alcoholic beverage seller, those evenings usually seemed like mini-parties. I would normally sit in a corner of the house and look on.

Sometimes grandma would allow me go over to my uncle’s house to spend a few days during the week since he stayed close to hers and could get me to school early enough – he had a big house and was pretty rich. This particular uncle always made it a point of duty to buy me the latest computer game whenever he took trips abroad and when everybody was bringing biscuits and sweets to school for lunch, I always had snacks (meat pie and sausage or burger) for lunch. I had two second cousins that stayed with him too – both of them sisters. When it was just us alone in the house, they would take turns on my cousin and I and molest us. I’m not sure how that has shaped up my life so far, but I think I would have been better off if I missed that part of growing up. It would take many years for me to realise the impact of these things on my life.

Results for all the entrance exams I took started coming out and I gained admission into all of them but my dad wouldn’t let me go to the one I wanted even though he asked me to choose. I wonder why he asked me to choose one when he knew he wouldn’t let me go there. I was very surprised when one day he came home and said he wanted me to go to boarding house in one of the federal schools, I declined instantly. There was no way I was going to go to a boarding school; I wouldn’t have been able to cope. With all the stories around? No way! After a lot of pondering, my parents finally decided to send me to a private school that was just about twenty minutes driving distance from our new house.

We had finally moved from the outskirts of Lagos to a central part on the mainland, Yaba. Whoop! Whoop! I was going to make new friends. So I thought, but my parents were having none of that. They held on to their – you won’t mix with the street kids anthem for so long, I don’t remember making any friends for the period we spent in that area.

Did I mention I got 4^th place out of about 200 other candidates that took the examinations? Well I just did. Anyway, school resumed a few weeks later and I was back to the four walls of a classroom. First one month was good, making new friends and getting used to the secondary school environment until I made the biggest mistake in junior school – contesting my grades with a teacher and inviting my father over. It was a big mistake that still haunts me. It was Basic Science and we just got back our test papers, I scored zero marks out of a possible thirty. What? I looked at other students scripts and we all seemed to give the same answers to the questions so how in God’s name couldn’t I score myself a few points.

When I told my dad about it, he only asked if I was sure about what I was saying; of course I was – so I thought. The next day he came by the school around break time when he knew I would be free and then we proceeded to the staffroom to see the teacher. After my dad reported his reason for coming around to the teacher - `He’s not serious, he failed. I don’t know why he had to stress you to come here sir` was all the teacher said. Oh my God.....I knew I wasn’t going to hear the last of it. How do I answer the same thing as someone else and then he scores marks and I don’t? My dad left the office embarrassed and drove back angry. Throughout that day all I could think of was the punishment that would be meted out to me once I got home.

The day went by very fast and mother came earlier than ever to pick me; and from the time when I clambered into the car and we started to head home, she didn’t stop insulting me and sending slaps my way. Dad must have told her about it. Dad was on leave and I was very certain he was going to be home that afternoon...ahh I could feel my soul leave my body. Once we were in he didn’t even let me drop my bag before charging at me, raining a series of slaps and punches on me. I cried out like a baby.

`Get that stool over there and raise it over your head and make sure you don’t drop it until I tell you to, Olodo oshi`. I knelt down in my school uniform sweating like a headless goat as I watched my parents and siblings munch on Suya and cold bottles of coca-cola beverage. My stomach won’t stop churning. After about three hours he finally asked me to get up – he must have seen life slip out of my body. I was very drained, tired and hungry that after having dinner I didn’t even have time to shower I jumped into my bed and slept off. From that day onwards, I never called my dad to come to school again. J.S.S 2 wasn’t all rosy, I managed to maintain good grades but somehow I wasn’t in the good books of the teachers and during open day I had myself to blame as they didn’t have any positive remarks about me even though I scored good grades in their subjects. That resulted to another round of slaps and insults from my mother.

By the summer of J.S.S 3 we had moved houses again, this time to Ikeja. It was a beautiful three bedroom storey building located in a very serene environment. I was on the six month long holiday and was home most of the time, kicking my football alone against the wall. On one of my lonely days, I kicked my ball to hard and it went straight into the neighbour’s compound. When I went to get it I saw this dark skinned girl with big breasts and a nice body sitting on the front porch of the house. I was too shy to say anything so I just picked my ball and ran back to my house. I liked her from the first day I saw her but I had some reservations, they were always chattering Yoruba in the compound – I could hear them audibly from my house. I needed to be sure she could communicate in English and I didn’t need to wait longer than the next day. I was back to kicking my ball all by myself when I heard a knock on the door.

It was a strange knock because we had barely spent two weeks in the house and even most of our relatives were yet to come through so who could it be? My answer was just behind the gate.

`Who is it? ` I quizzed. `It’s Fola`. Fola? I didn’t know anybody by that name and was very sceptical about opening the gate since I had been warned by my parents not to let strangers in. I peeped through a hole on the side of the gate and saw this harmless young boy standing there and panting. I wonder what he wants – I thought to myself as I opened the door. As soon as he came in, he went straight for my ball and started joggling it; I smiled, finally a friend.

`Where do you stay? ` I querried.

`The next building, we share the same fence` - he said pointing at the building where I saw the `Yoruba speaking girl` the day before.

`Oh! I’m guessing the dark skinned girl that’s always speaking Yoruba is your sister? I asked sardonically.

`Speak what? He smirked. You must be mistaking my sister Omolara for someone else, maybe the house help. She speaks only fluent English and she was the one who actually sent me over.....she said to tell you that she likes you and would really love to French kiss you`.

What? She wants to kiss me? I could care less about her mother tongue or whatever language she speaks, I’m definitely going to be getting my first kiss soon. But wait a minute, what does a French kiss feel like? I’ve never actually kissed someone or been kissed by anybody. I flushed.

I’m sure he could see my face brighten up after hearing what he had said but damn it; I was finally going to get kissed. I had a girlfriend at the beginning of that school year, she was light skinned and very beautiful but the relationship was very boring. Asides being my class mate we only used to talk via love notes between classes. We were both very shy, I guess because it was our first time at it. We didn’t even hug each other at anytime during the one year long relationship but look at me now, a total stranger wants to kiss me. I flushed again and then slipped into a reverie for a few minutes.

I gave him the landline number of my house to give to her so she could call me and tell me in person. He smirked and then ran off back to his house. I locked the gate behind him, went straight into the house and sat by the phone patiently waiting for the call to come in. It finally came in and when I heard the voice behind the phone my heart sort of melted. What? She got me falling in love with her at hello.

`Can you come over to my house so I can show you how serious I am? `.

Now she wants me to come over? Ha! She must really mean business.

`Err.......who is home with you? ` My voice trembled as I asked in angst.

`Just Fola and I. If you do want to come its better you do now because my mum would be back from work in a few hours`.

`Oh ok. I would be there in a few minutes`. Then the phone line went dead.

I pirouetted around the living room and sang along as I did that. I was about to get my status upgraded to another kind of cool. I jumped into the shower and then threw on clean clothes as soon as I dried myself. Muyiwa I hope this isn’t a farce.......I repeated this mantra severally before picking myself up and heading over to her house. I was at her doorpost for a little over five minutes contemplating whether or not to go on with it when the door went open. God knows all I wanted at that point was to be swallowed by the ground. What! She didn’t only look better in person; she had the most beautiful smile ever.

`How are you? ` She asked, still smiling. `I saw you walk into the compound and when I didn’t hear any knock I decided to come out and check for you. `

Shoot! She must have seen me through the window and now she probably knows I’m shy too.

`Fine.....err.....was trying to tie the lace of my shoes`. Double shoot, I wasn’t wearing any shoes, instead I had slippers on. I was turning out to be a flop.

`Do you want to come inside or continue tying your imaginary shoe laces? `. We both laughed at my folly as she led me into the house. The house was very cold, I’m sure the air conditioner had been on all day.

`Where is Fola? ` I asked curiously as we got into the empty living room.

`He is in the other flat the one at the back. He went to play with his friend`.

So it’s just us alone in the house? I’m sure I had nervous and anxious written all over my forehead.

`Do you want anything? `. `No I’m okay, already had something before leaving the house`.

`Okay then`.

She jumped on the other side of the couch where I sat and then we got talking. Apparently she was also on the long holiday and attended an all girl’s school in Ogun State and at the point when I was starting to get boring in the conversation; she came across me and planted a kiss on my lips. I squirmed.

`Have you ever kissed a girl? `. She seemed curious to know. I wanted to lie and say yes but that would mean selling myself out because I had no idea at all about it.

`No I haven’t`.

She then climbed over me and started kissing me; I reciprocated by trying to go with the rhythm. I bit her lips at different intervals which luckily for me she didn’t complain about. We got really into it and for the first time I got a hard on with a girl. I am now a man. When we were getting really into it she got up and dragged me into one of the rooms in the house and with the way the room was arranged I could tell that it was her parent’s room.

Am I going to have her in her parent’s room, on their bed? Now that’s hardcore.

We kept on kissing, her breasts were out on my bare chest and she had my hands on her behind. Father Lord please take me now. What!

Then there was a knock on the door which put an abrupt end to our mini love session. We hurried out of the room into the sitting room as I adjusted my shorts, put on my shirt and sat in the couch as if nothing had happened while she tucked her breasts in, adjusted her dress and went to answer the door. It was Fola and his friend Jite and after that day we kept seeing each other at least three times every week kissing and smooching each other without ever attempting sex again until she decided to call it quits on Valentine’s Day the following year. I wasn’t shocked because word on the street was that she had numerous boyfriends and I was just her summer beau, I only felt bad that it happened on the day it did. I moved on from it almost immediately.

I got back to school a different person, I was now very confident about myself around the female folk. My grades were okay but the only constant thing was the slaps I kept receiving from my mother on open days. Asides school work; I had other things occupying my head. I was thinking about sex most of the time, I wanted to know what sex felt like, I badly wanted to have sex but I didn’t know where or how to get it. A few of my classmates had started to bring pornographic magazines and compact discs to school which they used to exchange between themselves and it wasn’t long before I joined the band wagon.

THE PARKVIEW MURDER - TOLANI`S TALE

2013-07-27T14:23:00.004-07:00

`Do you mind if I join you? ` A voice hovered over my head as I sipped on my sex on the beach cocktail. Whoever it was had a sweet, sensual baritone voice that almost made me choke on my drink. I dropped the glass cup to look up and right in front of me was this Adonis. I slipped into a reverie instantly. This man was an epitome of beauty, literally - from his well cut hair to his perfectly tailored blazer, the nice watch on his wrist and not to mention how suave he was. Yummy.

It took me about thirty seconds to size him up and I was rather very impressed - he didn’t seem like the regular kind of guy. I tried to get my act together, but this body of beauty wouldn’t let me; he had me speechless. Oh yes his eyes, I’m sure it was his eyes that captivated me he had the most beautiful eyes ever..... and his lips? Gosh, I could suck on them all day and not get tired. He was the most handsome looking man I had ever seen and all I wanted to do was rip his clothes apart. My daydream ended after he waved his hand in my face to get my attention and I immediately snapped out of my reverie. I’m sure he could tell that I was charmed by his looks and that made it even more difficult to turn down his request, so of course I allowed him join me on the table. What right thinking lady would turn down a man like that........certainly not me?

`Why are you here all by yourself? I’m surprised you’re even sitting alone, only a few men that I know would allow such......all of whom are within my father’s age bracket`. He chuckled

I gave out a loud laugh, almost embarrassing myself in the process. `I’m actually supposed to meet up with a friend but she’s yet to get here so I’m keeping myself busy trying out cocktails and reading up gossip news on blogs` I replied.

`So what brings you here alone, to hook up with pretty single ladies like me right? ` I said sardonically. We both laughed.

`I really wouldn’t want to ruin your excitement, but no – I just came here to have a few drinks and try out their cat fish pepper soup. I hear they sell the best kind around here`.

`Oh ok. So are you single? I blurted out. Oh shoot! I shouldn’t have asked that. I buried my head in my hands, I didn’t even know his name yet - it felt too embarrassing. I hope he doesn’t feel like I’m trying to come on to him. Then there was an awkward silence and I felt like I had ruined the moment.

`Sorry for asking, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to and my name is Tolani by the way......and it was nice meeting you`. I said as I got up and attempted to exit the table

`No you don’t have to get like that its cool.....the name is Weyinmi and yes I’m single, no I’m not, uggh it’s complicated`. He said clenching his hands on his chin`.

`Oh! I see `. I looked closely at his hand, his left hand to be precise and I noticed his fourth finger had a mark on it like he used to wear a wedding ring or he actually wears a wedding ring and he was trying to hide it.

`Are you married....or were you ever married? ` A curious I questioned. He looked at his left hand and then dwelt on his fourth finger for a while – he must have figured out that I noticed the mark of a wedding band on it - and then looked back at me with a smirk on his face.

`Yes I was married, err I’m still married - I’m in the process of finalising my divorce so anytime from now I’d be a single man`.

`I f you ever need someone to talk to you know I’m here for you` - I said trying to cheer up his mood. He laughed and got up to go and use the rest room. I don’t know what it was about this man, but right there on that seat I was already dreaming about getting married to him. It wasn’t like I didn’t have guys asking me to marry them or guys that were asking me to date them or even guys I was having flings or guys in my friends with benefits zone I just didn’t see anyone of them as the right person – until I met Weyinmi that is. I didn’t have a problem with his relationship status, married or not as I had dated married men in the past. When he got back we spent the next hour or two chatting and getting to know each other before his phone rang and he asked to leave. His pepper soup wasn’t even ready yet.

I was a little sad he was leaving because he was good company but we exchanged numbers and agreed to keep in touch with each other afterwards. My friend came around about half an hour later and I didn’t stop telling her about him, only I exempted the part of him being married because she didn’t like the idea of me dating married men. The night ended with me getting drunk on tequila shots and Shade having to drive me home because I was too drunk to drive my car. She dropped me off at home and made me some soup to drink before leaving.

After taking a shower and slipping into my night dress I got a call from Weyinmi – the only person that could make me feel better at that time. We spoke for about one hour till sleep kicked in and I asked to go to bed. I’m sure I dreamt about him that night because I woke up overly excited even though I was still a bit hungover.

We soon got used to talking to each every day, so much that no day was complete without getting a message or call from him. I was so fond to him that I could tell his schedule off head; I had already started to like him and was almost going to throw a party when he called me one morning and said his divorce had been finalised and he was now officially single. I had told everybody about him including my mum because I couldn’t hide the excitement of getting back into the dating scene from them.

One Saturday night we decided to hang out at Shaunz Karaoke bar and lounge on Sanusi Fafunwa in Victoria-Island. After some chicken wings with garlic sauce I decided to go in on the karaoke, singing along to some Whitney Houston and Craig David tunes, after which I sat down to have drinks with Weyinmi and some of his friends who had now joined us. I started off with taking just cocktails while Weyinmi and his friends had a bottle of Hennessey to themselves and after some convincing from them, I decided to have some shots of Hennessey and once again, I drank myself to stupor. Next thing I know is I’m awake in my bed naked with a nasty headache from all the alcohol. How did I get here? Only Wehinmi and his friends had the answer to that. I got out of bed and was trying to get to the first aid box in the bathroom when Wehinmi walked into the room, wrapped up in my towel bearing a tray with bread and coffee. What? I hurried back into bed and threw the duvet over myself.

All I was hoping for at that time was that we didn’t have sex. Not like I didn’t want to have sex with him but id have preferred it if I was sober and alive to everything. Then he came to my side of the bed and handed me the jug of coffee.

`Here you go; it should relieve you of the hangover a bit, ok! `

`Ok thank you. Err Wehinmi, did we have sex because I really don’t remember anything from last night? I asked a little embarrassed. He just smiled at me and nodded in the affirmative.

Oh! We did have sex.

`Was it good or bad sex....I hope I wasn’t horrible? `

He gave out a loud laugh which got me super embarrassed; I dropped the jug on the table and lay back in bed facing the opposite direction.

`Even though you were all over the place, it was still good sex and just so you know you initiated it`. I smiled and turned back to face him and then held him by the waist. `One more question though, I hope you used protection? `.

`Of course I did`. Then his phone rang and after answering it he dashed into the bathroom saying he had to take a shower and hurry out because he had to be somewhere. While he was at it, I sat back up and went on with my breakfast when a text message came in on his phone. He used an Iphone so it was only normal for his messages to pop up on his screen without me having to touch it. I was shocked by what I saw.

SENDER: WIFE

Where are you Mr man, you think you can just go out and come back whenever you like abi, spending my money and driving my cars as you like without bringing anything to the table right? You better get yourself down here immediately before I call my father. Nonsense.

Nothing seemed to add up, I was very confused. He was still married and apparently all the money he had been spending on me, and the cars he was driving which he claimed to be his were for another woman. I was disgusted and irritated to say the least, more because he had just had sex with me.

He got out of the bathroom and saw me crying, so he came close to where I sat to enquire why I was in that state; I simply clocked my head in the direction of the phone and as soon as he saw the message, I could tell from the look on his face that he was downcast, he knew I had found out about all the lies he had been telling. He didn’t utter any words as he got into his clothes and walked out of the room; he came back a few minutes later and tried to talk me into another web of lies and when he figured I wasn’t having any of it and then he left. I cried myself to sleep that morning and woke up to the most heart wrenching message from Weyinmi. At that point I felt I should have listened to him, I shouldn’t have let him go back to her. There was no way I could reach him as his phones were off and in the message he sent he already asked that I don’t contact him anymore. And then it hit me.......yes he lied to me about everything concerning his life. I wasn’t even sure if his real name was Weyinmi, he had sex with me when I wasn’t conscious about anything but somehow, I had fallen in love with him.

He has a nagging wife and I’m guessing he has kids too and here I am drooling over him. I know he loves me and won’t want to hurt me on purpose, I’m sure that text message was just to ward me off because of his wife......but NO. Id fight for what I want, id fight for my man....I love Weyinmi.

TWISTED 2

2013-06-27T12:38:00.003-07:00

He hurriedly put on his pyjama pants with a stern look on his face as he exited the room. I was too shocked to utter any words and could only sit and watch him leave while I buried my head in his semen infested magazine. It was not long before he walked back into the room, smoking a cigarette and clutching a bottle of Hennessy.

He most definitely chose the wrong night to mess with me.

I glanced up at him, our eyes fixated on each other as he puffed out his cigarette and gave me the – Gbemi I don’t care what you do or say look. No, no, no, no I can’t take this.......this can’t be happening to me. I swung the magazine at him and followed it up with the television and air condition remote controls on the side stool and the pillows on the bed. Before he could regain balance I had crawled up to where he stood and started to hit him on the face as hard as I could. He was too intoxicated to do anything and by this time he had staggered a few times, lost balance and fell to the ground. I sat on his chest and grabbed the bottle of Hennessy from his hands.

`Deolu I sacrificed my career to make this marriage work, I have sex you whenever you come on to me even when I’m not in the mood to, I fix your food at odd times of the day whichever and however way you want it and this is how you plan to ruin it all for me, right?. Your son was almost suspended from school because he took your pornographic magazines and cigarettes to school. I almost beat him to a pulp because I found it hard to believe him when he said they were yours, but here you are confirming my suspicions. Shame on you Deolu, shame on you`. He didn’t seem perturbed by everything I said. He attempted to drag the bottle of Hennessey from me; I held it up and slapped him once more. How dare you?

`Are you gay? ` That was rather too stupid to ask going by the circumstance. I’m going to leave your lying, cheating gay self soon. How long has this even been going on for? I enquired further and before I could get a reply, I was already on the floor; bleeding uncontrollably from my head - now it was time for him to lay his long-awaited defense. I could literally hear my heart beat. `Who do you think you are, going on about sacrifices you made and what not? When I met you, you were just a cheap slutty parasite who needed someone to suck on, now look at you all shinny, fat and radiant. To whom do you owe that....your family? Or that already dead boutique you owned? What if I am gay, what right do you have to question my sexuality? You own two new cars, I make whatever you want available to you even before you ask. Don’t ever question me; you lost that right many years ago. He dealt me three heavy blows to the face and was about to hit me the fourth time when Tola burst into the room.

`Mummy! Daddy! what’s going on? Your voice woke me up from sleep and I’m sure a few of the neighbours have been awoken by your noise`. He had already started throwing tantrums before realising what was going on – his father was on me, left hand up in the air about to strike me. He looked around the room and saw sheets of the magazine scattered on the floor. He picked one up and I could tell from his countenance that he felt exonerated. He didn’t look surprised at all. Then he took a few steps forward to where we were when I gave him the – You know better not to take any more steps look. He got the message right away and walked out of the room.

Wait! Is my son gay too? I didn’t even bother to go through the magazine that was found with him. What kind of mother am I?

`Get off me you dirty bastard` - `I yelled out, attempting to throw him off me. `How am I even sure you haven’t been infected with an STD? So all this while when you kept giving the `I’m too tired to have sex nonsense` it was actually because of a man? I’d be damned if I don’t kill you before you do me`. I continued. He pinned me hard on the ground `I own you Gbemi, do you understand? You answer to my orders. Don’t ever, ever complain about my actions if you don’t want me to send you back to your wretched father’s house – After all I’m the reason why you have food to eat, clothes to wear and a means of livelihood. Don’t ever joke with that`. He spat on my face and climbed on the bed to sleep, while I lay on the ground in a pool of my blood.

Well he might be wretched but he’s way better than the lying, cheating, homosexual bastard that you are. I murmured under my breath.

That night I managed to sleep for a few hours but was up early the following day. I had a terrible migraine but I worked through it cleaning the blood on the floor, getting chores done around the house and also getting myself treated for the cut on my head by the family doctor who came around that morning. Deolu was out early that morning as I didn’t wake up to meet his presence and Tola who was home with me refused to come out of his room all day. When he feels the need to eat, he would most definitely come out. I thought out loud as I ate my cream crackers biscuit.

I tried to deal with the events of the previous night by reading a Sidney Sheldon novel, but I found it impossible to do as images of my sex moments with Deolu kept flashing in my head. How can he be gay? So I had been having sex with a gay man? The thought of it was galling. I eventually slept off on the couch after swallowing some pills and by 6pm I was up again. Deolu still wasn’t back; I wouldn’t stop thinking, so I decided to visit an old friend of mine. Ranti and I had been friends for about twenty-five years; even before I met Deolu, and we had managed to keep our relationship going irrespective of the numerous differences that had always overshadowed our friendship over the years.

I called her to let her know about my purported visit, which she sounded excited about. We hadn’t seen each other since the burial of her father about four years ago, so it was the perfect time to bond and put out everything that had been bothering us. I arrived at her residence at a few minutes before 7pm. She was single; hence lived alone. After exchanging pleasantries, she offered me some red wine which I obliged to, before we sat down to talk. We had talked about everything from gossip about our mutual friends to food and hair products but not about my marriage and her single status. I was patiently waiting for her to give it a mention because I didn’t want to be forward about it but she totally gave a blind sight to it – until when I was about to leave.

`Gbemi ehn ehn, how is Deolu and Tola? I thought you guys have had another child by now. ` - she asked chuckling.

I smiled and then I started crying. `What’s wrong Gbemi? ` – Ranti queried. I told her everything from Tola`s situation at school to Deolu`s recent love for men. And just like how Tola reacted when he saw the gay pornographic magazines, she didn’t look amazed. She smiled and drew close to me. `It’s alright Gbemi – she said, wrapping her hand around my shoulder and wiping the tears off my face - `I’ve always told you men cannot be trusted. Why do you think I’m still single? You think I don’t feel the need to be with a man? I do Gbemi. But I decided to seek an alternative after Charles broke my heart and so far, I’m better for it`. She continued.

`How do you mean? `

She wrapped her hand around my hair and pulled my face towards hers. I’ve always wanted to do this Gbemi, you don’t need any man to make you happy, what you need me is me. ` Then she kissed me. I pulled back and pushed her away from me. `Stop this Ranti, I’m not a lesbian. When did you even start this rubbish? ` I got up from the couch and smoothened my dress. `I’m leaving`. – I yelled out. She walked up to me, `You don’t have to Gbemi, and sorry if I caught you unawares but trust me it would be worth your while`. She came very close to me and pinned me to the wall, moved my hair to the side and started kissing me on my neck. I moaned. It felt very different from when it was Deolu romancing me. She grabbed my ass and pushed herself towards me.

Ooh, I was wet between my thighs. She kissed me softly, biting my lips at intervals. I responded by holding her by the waist and pulling her dress up. She stuck her hand into my leggings making way into my thongs and onto my vagina. It felt like I was in heaven, it was like nothing I had felt before. She dragged me off the wall and threw me onto the couch, revealing my already underwear. She raised up her skirt and climbed onto me – kissing me as hard as she could and caressing my clitoris. I was all over the place. How come I don’t feel this way with Deolu? When she started fingering me and sucking on my droopy breasts, I swear at that moment I could trade my life for that feeling. Magical.

She then went on to take off my thongs, revealing my well shaved pubic hair and very wet vagina. By this time she had taken off my tank top and brassiere. I felt shy, but damn it, it felt good. She kissed me from my forehead to my lips, sucked on both my nipples, then down to my stomach, belly button and then my clitoris. Take me away love, take me love – I moaned out. She stuck one finger inside me, and then two then started fingering me until both fingers were soaked with my vagina juice. It was way better than sex with Deolu. After a while she got up and asked me to dress up. `You seem pretty comfortable, weren’t you heterosexual a few minutes ago? She jested. I ignored her and wore my underwear immediately while she went into the room to get me some sex toys she wanted to show me. I didn’t wait for her to return before I took my leave. It was already 10pm and I was expecting to see Deolu`s car in the garage when I drove in. Sigh.

I was about calling his phone to find out where he was because I was starting to get worried and feel guilty when I got a text message from Ranti. ` I know you loved it and you’d definitely come back for more. I’d always be available for you. `

I’m not yet a lesbian am I?

TWISTED

2013-06-19T08:26:00.001-07:00

I had literally just driven around town in search of some asparagus to prepare a special gourmet vegetarian meal for my family, and had just arrived at the estate gate when I received a text message on my phone. At first I was reluctant to get the phone, but when the gateman was taking forever to answer the gate; I decided to give it a look.

It was from my son’s school and they wanted me to appear as soon as I could to sort out a few things.

What is there to sort? I scowled in annoyance as I read the remainder of the message.

If driving from the mainland to the Island in search of a handful of vegetables which I eventually didn’t get to buy didn’t tick me off, I think the mere thought of having to drive all the way back to my son’s school certainly did. What was more annoying was the fact that the school didn’t state a specific reason for asking me over.

I tried getting through to Deolu – My Husband, to intimate him of the situation at hand but I couldn’t reach him on any of his phones. All attempts to also get through to the schools administration was also in vain as no one answered the phones. While all this was going on, the estate gateman Baba Yinka had opened the gate for me to go in, but in my paranoia state I could only just sit in the car and watch him shut it back. I then reasoned there was no point driving in and driving out later when I could do everything I had to do at once. So I turned my car around and headed to ST Augustine Memorial College which my son attended.

Oh the sacrifices of a stay at home mother.

“Oga Madam, gooraftoonoon, dis one wey you come by this time wey school never close, una wan donate anora tin to us” – The gateman yelled out as I drove into the compound, at that time I could care less about his mischief.

I got out of the car, wrapped my hair into a pony tail, grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and then went straight to the principal’s office.

The principal Mrs Kofoworola Doherty and I go way back university days but have not particularly been best of friends - basically because she had a better dress sense and had this almost perfect Queens English accent that drops me off the edge each time she utters a word.

Her secretary, who was normally cheerful and friendly around me, had all of a sudden gotten the chills and was sort of laid back in her response to all the remarks and pleasantries I doled out to her that afternoon. I assumed it was that time of the month for her and so didn’t question her motives for doing so.

“Good day Mrs Famoroti”. A voice called out behind me as I signed in to the visitor’s book.

“Good day yourself Kofo” – I turned around and responded.

“Sorry I had to get you here on short notice; I just thought I should bring something to your attention”

“It’s nothing; anything to make sure my boy is doing fine.

“This way please” – Pointing in the direction of her office as she led me in.

“Coffee, Tea, Biscuits?” She asked in that her Queens English accent I’d always been envious of.

“No thanks, I just want to know why I’m being summoned here” – I replied, while adjusting into a more comfortable position on the leather seat.

“Very well then”.

She dragged her chair forward and leaned in towards the table, clenched her fists towards her chin and stared at me for a little over thirty seconds. I was starting to get a bit tense. .

“During a random check of all the students to ensure they don’t have any contraband items with them, we found some pornographic magazines in your son’s bag, a pack of cigarettes and a match box. All the school counsellors have quizzed him about his involvement with these items, but to our amazement he is yet to utter one word. Normally we would have suspended him the minute these items were found on him because this is a Christian school and we try to uphold the holistic values upon which it was established but we decided to bend the rules on behalf of your family because of how important your donations have been to this institution”.

Why does he keep doing these things? What do other mothers do for their children that I don’t do for mine? Why is this boy being ungrateful and unappreciative? With everything he sees me going through in his father’s house, is this how he plans to pay me back? This is the same child that has refused to pass his SSCE, he’s the one who spent his tutorial fee hovering from one game house to another and he’s still the same one that was caught molesting a female student and forcing her to play with his penis. Oh God what kind of child have you given me? I don’t deserve any of these. - I soliloquised, as tears rolled down my face.

“Wipe your tears, it would all be fine” – she sighed, handing me a box of tissues.

“Can you send for him please?”

“Certainly”.

She placed a call to her secretary to go get my son from the counselling unit where he had been remanded all morning since the items were found on him. And while I waited, all I could think about was how to explain things to his father.

Just when things were starting to look good for us as a couple.Hmmph

Then the secretary led my son into the office, and for the first time in seventeen years I looked at Tola and resented him. He leaned on the wall - plain faced, hands in his pocket, no emotion whatsoever and at that point it felt like I had lost him. I didn’t know whether to smack the hell out of his face or just walk out. But I chose not to let my emotions get the best of me.

“Tola, do you want to kill me? What is it with you, are you the only child? Why is it you that everybody is always complaining about? I don’t want to bury my child and I don’t want any child to bury me now, but listen the day you die because of your irresponsibility and waywardness, we would bury you, mourn you for a while and after that everybody moves on with their life”.

He looked me in the eye, mumbled a few words and looked the other way. I immediately looked at Kofo and her facial expression said it all - I had failed as a mother. In a rage of anger, I picked up the perforator on the table and threw it in Tolas direction. He weaved it but I cannot say same for the notice board behind him as it was shattered to pieces.

“I’m sorry about the board; I would get it replaced as soon as possible” – a depressed and frustrated me pleaded.

“It’s alright Gbemi, just take your son home and try to fix things up ok, and he is free to take the week off school too.”

“Are you suspending him?” – I cut into her statement

“No we are not; I just feel it is in his best interest and in the interest of the school that he takes a break. If something like this happens again, then we would be forced to extend the long arm of the law towards him”.

“Thanks a lot Kofo, I appreciate it”.

We left the office soon after and were just making way into the reception when I landed two deafening slaps on his face. One for bringing contrabands to school and the other for making a fool out of me in the presence of the principal.

“Now would you go and bring your bag and meet me at the car park or you’d need me to slap you all the way to your class to go get it?”

He mumbled some words again and as I moved in to slap him, he cried out - I’d go and get it, I’d go and get it” – good, now meet me at the car park in five minutes.

He came back in almost a jiffy and we began the ride back home. All my thought as we rode through the Island traffic bothered around what to do to curb this incessant irresponsible behaviour of his and somehow I had started to question my parenting skills. Then halfway through I decided to ask him where he got the magazines and cigarettes from. He was hesitant and I could see the fear in his eyes. And then he looked up and said “They are daddy’s”.

“Are you mad? Are you accusing your father of smoking and watching pornography?” I halted the car at the next petrol station and right there, inside the car, I beat him as hard as I could. He kept shouting and crying “It’s for daddy, it’s for daddy mummy....I swear. I took them from his room”. But there was no stopping me, I was engulfed with anger.

How would you say the man I married for over twenty years now is into cigarettes and pornography and I don’t know? It took a number of the petrol station attendants to stop me as they kept banging on my side of the window.

When I was calm, I ignited the car engine and continued the drive back home. I didn’t say anything to him and neither did he, but somehow something inside me wanted to believe him. I had never had a reason to question my husband’s movements in twenty years but his constant late nights and lack of concentration during sex were starting to give me concerns. I decided not to speak to him yet about Tolas issue until I did some investigation of my own. I was asleep when he got back home that night and also the night after, but I managed to stay half awake the third night.

He got home late as usual, took his shower and then I noticed he was pacing around the room. He seemed a little uneasy. Then he came to my side of the bed and waved his hand in my face as if to ascertain whether I was awake or not, I didn’t flinch. He waited a few minutes before bringing out a briefcase from the top corner of the wardrobe. He opened it and brought out some papers. Then something fell off and made some noise, he was jumpy and all over the place but I still didn’t move an inch. He took the papers, picked whatever it was that fell to the ground and creeped to his side of the bed. I laid there for a few more minutes until I started to hear him moan, softly at first – oh no he can’t be masturbating. I got up and turned around immediately and there my husband of twenty years laid, his penis in one hand, a magazine on the other and a lotion on the bed.

“Deolu what is this nonsense you are doing?” – I turned on the side lamp and snatched the magazine off his hand. Alas, my husband was masturbating to gay pornography.

THROUGH IT ALL (PART 2)

2013-01-12T07:24:00.002-08:00

Isn't marriage for better or worse, till death do us part? Woh, I'd just maintain a little patience with him and watch him go back to the person I fell in love with and got married to. I know he's a good man, I think he's just going through a mid-life crisis. Maybe it’s the thought of taking care of the family all by himself that’s getting him worked up or maybe he's having work related issues. I know my ‘Lolu is not a wife beater, he would change.

Two weeks after the incident had happened - a Saturday to be exact, he came home from wherever he went and headed straight to the Guest Room which I had now turned to my new haven since the tension in the masters bedroom had become too much to bear. I was very tired from the day’s job of taking care of the kids and was very dizzy from the sleeping pill I took minutes before he walked in but as soon as he started groveling, every form of dizziness seemed to fade away.
Oh, how I've missed my husband, but he won't get me that easy.
While he was still talking and making up excuses for his action, I got up and went into the bathroom - acting uninterested in the conversation. He stopped talking and stood by the door, watching me make a fool of myself as I stood in front of the mirror, staring blank at it. When he realized I didn't have any plans of coming out just yet, he came in and stood behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered sweet nothings to my ear, and on the spot I could feel every form of hate and anger in me, melt away.
That night, I moved back into the Master’s Bedroom upon his insistence and we made love like two teenagers. For the next five months we lived as a happy couple, until December 18th of that year, when for the first time in my life, I questioned my purpose for living - I would never forget the date.
A gift box had come in for him from his office that afternoon, and I was somewhat excited about it because we usually always had a room filled with gifts during the festive season but that year, everything seemed dull. So I took off the gift card that was cello-taped to the box to read its content.
"Wishing you and your family all the joy and happiness the Christmas season brings"
                                    Akinlolu George
                                    Atinuke George
                                    Akinlolu George Jr.
                                    Adegboyega George
                                    Oluwafemi George
                                    Oluwatitilayo George
                                    Olamipo George
                                    Ireoluwa George
"With love from Savanna Bank".
The Christmas cards that usually came from his office always had the names of every member of the family included in them, but there was something unusual about that particular card. It had Lolu's, mine, our two kids’, and the names of four other people. I was lost.
I wasn't going to conclude immediately, but something in my subconscious kept telling me the other names were those of Lolu's other children. And the Akinlolu George Jr. that was included in the card was enough to make me conclude the names were his children's.
E ma gba mi ke, Ki ni mo fe so fun awon ara ita? That I married a man and I didn't know he already had children? What would I tell my mother? How would I tell her? - I mumbled, as I started to get paranoid.
Be calm Tinuke, be calm.
I had always suspected Lolu of having extra-marital affairs, and on numerous occasions he had proved me right. Sometimes he would come home oozing of feminine perfumes; other times he would have lipstick stains on his shirt and the most unforgettable one was the text message he accidentally sent to me instead of his mistress which he blatantly denied knowing anything about.
I wasn't confused, I knew what I was seeing but I just couldn't bring myself to terms with it. Sadly, it coincided with the day I planned on telling him that I was three months pregnant with our third child. I was pacing round the sitting room, trying to gain composure and hoping my instincts were wrong. I wanted to call him, but I also wanted to ask him in person; I opted for the latter.
I was able to calm down after a few hours, and instead of dwelling on whatever lies Lolu might have told me and whatever hurt that I was going through; I decided to think about my future as his wife and the future of our children. It was a hopeless cause as I couldn’t come up with any reasonable solution.
The children were on holiday at my mother’s so I didn't have to bother about them witnessing the events that would unfold that night. I decided to make him his best meal - pounded yam and Ogbono soup with assorted meat and I waited up till he got back from work. I had slept off on the couch until the horn of his car woke me up - it was almost midnight. I wasn't deterred; I was determined to get to the bottom of the matter that night.
He staggered into the sitting room drunk; I even had to help him to the couch. I pulled up a stool and sat right in front of him and had to tap him a couple of times till I was able to get him to concentrate on me, then I took out the card and held it to his face. His reaction said it all. He started to cry and then I knew the kids were really his. As much as I wanted to listen to his side of the story, I couldn't bear to look in his eyes. The man I took vows with at the altar has all of a sudden become my nightmare. I simply got up, picked up the card and went into the guest room, locked the door behind me and cried my heart out.

Men are evil.

MEMOIRS OF A DRUG LORD (PART 3)

2012-12-22T03:19:00.000-08:00

It was a long drive back to the hotel, and as I drove slowly, I kept having flashbacks about how I shot and killed Robert. I smiled to myself each time the thought popped in my head, making up different scenarios that I could have employed in killing him, but in all, something inside of me was happy about his death.
I arrived at the hotel fatigued, so fatigued, that as soon as I made way into my room, I jumped into the bed and slept off like a baby - still fully clothed.
I woke up hours later, still tired, but could tell this time that it was hunger related, so I forced myself out of bed and placed a call to the hotels kitchen and ordered for the local delicacy of starch and banga soup.
I was still getting myself together when I heard a knock on the door. These kitchen people are very efficient - I thought to myself - as I hurriedly put on a t-shirt and went on to open the door.
"It’s called a mobile phone Michael, and it’s supposed to be with you at all times. Where the hell is your phone?" Chairman yelled out as he walked into the room and made way to the leather sofa in a corner of the room.

This time he was alone by himself, without Lateef and his guards.
"It’s over there" - I stuttered, pointing to the phone on the bed as I locked the door.
"I put it on the silent profile because I didn't want to be disturbed by it while I slept".
"You didn't want to be disturbed?” He exclaimed, nodding his head in disbelief. Well I won't blame you. He said.

I walked in his direction and sat at the edge of the bed, adjacent to the couch where her was seated.

There was a long pause in the room, before he finally broke the silence -

"I'm impressed with how far you have come, especially with the way you carried out your assignment last night. I had an undercover person in the police force at the crime scene when the body of the deceased was being moved to the mortuary and I was more than pleased when I was informed that no evidence was recovered from the scene." He enthused.

"Not only am I impressed with you, the Chairman has been wowed by your performance thus far, and has requested to see you, but not after you take delivery of another parcel".

"The chairman? So what are you?" I asked looking a tad confused.

"Laughing out loud – yes the Chairman. Everything here is done in a hierarchical order, and at every stage, there is always someone to report to. Just like how Lateef, you and the other boys report to me, I have someone I report to who might also be accountable to someone. But that's not an issue for today; let's face the reason why I'm here".

"Everything is happening too fast and right now it’s getting too much for me to comprehend. I haven't lived a normal life in the last one month and it’s starting to weigh on me. I need to take a break from this and do what normal people do, please".

"Hmm you would do that, you would, but right now is not the time for that. If you want to be wealthy doing this job, you have to do whatever you are being asked to do. Once you are in this business, you are in, there are no days off except maybe you want to face the wrath of the Chairman, and believe me when I say you don't want to".

Sigh, I looked up to the ceiling for a few seconds and I'm thinking to myself - so I have now become slave to a man and his cohorts in the name of making money?
"Ok! What about the balance I'm supposed to collect?"

"Oh that, here you go - handing out a brown envelope he took out of his pocket along with a bunch of keys to me. That's $5000; the extra $3500 is the part payment for your trip to London in a few weeks."

"London?" A curious I questioned.

"Yes London. The keys are for your new fully furnished apartment in Ogudu. Chairman doesn't want you living in a hotel and most definitely doesn't want you back in Ketu"

"Wow!!!" I exclaimed.

"Well that's what you get when you do as you are told. There's still more from where that came from, I would implore you not to mess things up. The car you drove on the night you assassinated Robert is now yours and the address to the house is inscribed at the back of the envelope.

Also get your passport across to me so I can get your visa processed immediately.

That should be all for now, I guess I should take my leave now, and yes do drop that title Chairman, just call me Jide Claro. Have a good day".

As I locked the door behind him, I was shocked beyond imagination and left to wonder in oblivion for about thirty minutes before a knock on the door by one of the kitchen staffs jolted me back to reality. My food had finally arrived but the urge to eat had disappeared once again.

I was exasperated but somehow I gathered some strength and packed my stuff, concealed the gun in a piece of cloth and hid it in the bottom corner of my suitcase and in no time was on my way out of the hotel en-route to Ogudu.

It was a two bedroom bungalow that was en suite with up to date household amenities from furniture to electrical appliances and food stuff.

My life had changed for good - at least so I thought.

The following day I went to a bureau-de-change somewhere in Ikeja, and converted $2000 of the money into the Naira equivalent which totaled about N300, 000 while the other $3000, I opted to deposit at the bank. Next stop was a store at the Silverbird Galleria, Victoria Island, where I went shopping for clothes and also met the lady who would later become a source of joy and sorrow.

Decked in a blue blouse, black jeggins and black pumps, and adorned with beautiful gold accessories, I knew she was the one as soon as she walked into the store. I had been a popular figure among the ladies back in Ketu, maybe because of my notoriety as a drug dealer, and their love for drugs, but with Fola I couldn't bring myself to talk to her. A quick glance around the room showed that everybody, both male and female had their eyes on her as she swayed across the room but none was able to make a move. But the minute I saw her standing in front of the bag rack, staring effortlessly at one of the bags on display, I took that as my cue to go talk to her.

I got myself pumped up, rubbed my palms together and said a bit of gibberish as I went up to her to start a conversation. Apparently she had been to the store before to make inquiries about the same bag that got her fixated only for her to get to the store with the exact amount that was quoted to her and find out the price had gone up by a staggering N100,000. Her ATM cards weren't working and all the calls she made to her sister to come to her aid were futile. A quick calculation of my shopping summed up to #150,000 so I had an extra N150, 000 to myself, and since it was love at first sight for me, I decided to take the risk of funding her expenses. She put up a front about it for a while, saying I was a stranger, she didn’t know me and she just went on chattering and then with a lot of insistence she finally agreed that I pay for the bag, on the condition that she would owe me dinner which we had a few days later.

Weeks had passed and Fola and I were waxing strong with each passing day, but as they say, good things don't come easy. It was time to make the big trip to London but the stories I had heard about the British Immigration, Metropolitan police and Scotland Yard’s crackdown on drug traffickers weren’t delicious to my ears. They weren't in any way good tales, but once again I was assured by soothing words of Jide Claro and lateef that my safety and security was guaranteed.

To Fola I was going on a business trip but to me it was a life changing one that could make or ruin me.

When I arrived at the Murtala Mohammed International Airport, I wasn't surprised about the events that took place and I must say that the Nigerian Immigration has to by far be the worst of the lot. A N5000 tip got me treated like a VIP person and my Luggage didn't even get checked. Anyway, the plane took off at exactly 11:25pm local time and we didn't arrive at Heathrow airport till 6:30am London time, due to air turbulence. There was no hitch clearing myself with the British Immigration as the drugs were properly concealed in baby diapers, and in no time I was being chauffeured to the Best Western Swiss Cottage Hotel where a reservation had already been made for me. I unpacked the drugs and hid the stash in one of the cabinets in the bathroom before sleeping off since the delivery wasn't till later in the night.

A few hours to midnight, I got up from my sleep, took a shower, had light food, got dressed up and sat up in bed, patiently waiting for the call from my supposed client to inform me about when and where to meet up with him. That call came in at fifteen minutes past midnight so I hurriedly put the drugs in a messenger bag, said a little prayer and headed out to the D Den Legacy club which was just five minutes by feet away from the hotel. I had just cut into an alley as directed by the map of London I had with me when I was jumped by three white boys. One dragged the bag from me; the other gagged me by the throat while the third kicked me to the ground.

It seemed like the beginning of the end of the road for me.

THROUGH IT ALL ( PART ONE)

2012-10-12T04:27:00.001-07:00

It’s my daughter’s wedding ceremony in a few days, and as we work round the clock trying to ensure its a success, and an even grander one than that of her brother (my first son), I can't but express how fulfilled and proud I am to be the mother of these children.

The last thirty years of my life that I've spent as a wife and mother have been filled with of a lot of ups and downs, especially the last ten; but when I look back at how things were back then and I look at how things are at the moment, all I can do is thank God for the journey so far.

Growing up in the 70's in the Ikeja metropolis was fun - for kids whose parents allowed them go out to play. My dad passed on when I was about fifteen, so my mother automatically assumed the responsibility of being both the father and mother to myself and my other five siblings. She used to shuffle three odd jobs everyday just to make sure we all went to school and came back to meet food on the table and the price we paid for it was chores, chores and more chores whenever we got back from school and on weekends. The only time we had to play or mingle with other kids was during the thirty minute break time we had in school. I wasn't very sound academically but I was able to force myself through secondary school and then to the prestigious University of Lagos, Akoka where I studied Business Administration.

There was a bit of freedom since I was in school on weekdays and went home only on weekends but financial constraints didn't let me socialize the way I would have loved to. I made a few friends on the road both male and female but I didn't get myself involved in any serious relationship with any guy because my mother advised against it as she would rather I get my degree first before committing to any relationship and I was able to uphold this moral until my final year in school when I met Akinlolu Thomas.

Akinlolu was an assistant lecturer in the Economics department who was also running his master’s program in the same course on the side. He didn't lecture me in any course but for some reason our paths always seemed to cross. It all started with exchanging pleasantries until we got to a stage where we couldn't go a day without checking on each other. I had fallen in love with Lolu and more because he wasn't particular about sex. There were times when we got into compromising situations with each other but after going back and forth on it we decided to leave our relationship on a platonic level.

After bagging my degree, I was posted to Yola for the compulsory National Youth Service Corps program. The distance posed a big issue for Lolu who didn't want me going away for that long so he pulled all the strings he could to try and get me re deployed to Lagos after the three week orientation camp but it was futile and since there were no phones back then we only used to communicate via letters, many of which I still have documented today.

I came back to Lagos soon after my service year and got a job with Sabena Airlines as a ticketing officer, while Lolu was promoted to a full time lecturer. I was earning way more than he was but it wasn't a deterrent factor because I saw a lot of prospect in him and was even happier about the fact that he didn't mind it. I became the favorite of my bosses and some of our clients including Ambassador Kolawole George, the then Ambassador of Nigeria to Mexico and so when Akinlolu started getting frustrated with his job, and all the applications he was putting through to other companies were not being acknowledged, I decided to speak to Ambassador Kola to see if he could use his influence help my husband. Right there, he put a call through to a friend of his in one of the old generation banks and afterwards referred my husband to him. Lolu got the job instantly but the take home pay was now an issue as it was slightly lesser than what he received as a lecturer. I encouraged him to go on with it because I know hard work always yields something no matter how little and in less than three years, he got multiple promotions.

We got married a few years later and in the preceding year welcomed out first child, a boy we named Olamipo. Months after I had the child, my mother called me over to her house to have a talk. It’s one conversation id never ever forget. She looked me in the eye and asked that I leave my husband and go somewhere else with the child to start afresh because she didn't see him as the right husband for me.

Where is all this coming from? Didn’t you meet him before I married him? I should leave the man I love to go and start afresh with a stranger because of what you think of him? Nonsense - I thought to myself.

I stayed away from her for weeks because I didn't want to have to listen to what I reasoned to be stupid and petty talk.

Meanwhile my marriage to Lolu continued to wax strong and everybody was happy at least until I got pregnant with our second child (my daughter who is getting married soon). It so happened that it was around the same time the airline I worked with was leaving Nigeria back for Spain and so I had to make the choice of either moving to Spain with the pregnancy and leave my young family behind in Nigeria or forfeit the job for my family. I didn't need to think twice, family was all that mattered so I chose the latter.

It was a decision that almost proved costly.

All through the time I was working, I made sure I took care of all the domestic needs – food stuff, baby food, diapers and just every basic thing that a household would need, without asking for a dime from my husband. One year after becoming a full time house wife, I had exhausted all the money I had and for the first time since I married Lolu, I asked him for upkeep money.

What happened next wasn't something I never thought would happen. It changed everything.

He beat me that day, so much that I started considering everything my mother said to me. I mean what right thinking man would his wife just because she asked him for money? I was very broke, my husband had turned his back on me and the only person could go to was my mother. It was a tough one to do, and going by how our last meeting ended I wasn't expecting to have it easy with her but I had no choice. She wasn't angry, she didn't shove me off she only simply said a proverb to me........

"What an elder sees sitting, a child might likely not see even with the aid of a ladder".

And then it hit me, mother had been right all along but the circumstances were now different. I was jobless and had just had a second child for him. Walking out of the marriage at that stage wouldn't have still been a problem because my mother and siblings had assured me that they were ready to take care of whatever needs I might have should I decide to leave, but at the back of my mind I still wanted to stay with Lolu.

What do I do? I asked myself.

TRUST ISSUES?

2012-09-02T10:18:00.000-07:00

There are two sides to a coin, and just like any story, there are always two or more sides to it. So why flip a coin to the other side when you already know what the outcome would be or listen to the story of a back stabbing person, when you are the victim of their act.

That was the case between Adeola and me.

Adeola....Adeola.....Adeola, where do I start from?

I've known Adeola for over a decade - we attended the same primary and secondary schools before ending up in the same university as course mates.

Our friendship in primary school cannot be defined because we were pretty young then, and even in secondary school, we never really talked except the normal Hello/Hi chit chat as she was in the sciences and I was in the arts. It was my curiosity as to how and why she ended up studying Economics as to other science inclined courses that kick started our friendship, and by second semester of our first year, we had gone from being just friends to best friends. Dee-Dee - as I fondly called her, was of average height, had a bodacious body and was very pretty. She had a smile to die for with a long flowing hair she only had to pack to the back and was good to go. She was very nice and extremely funny, she was my go to person whenever I was bored or down and needed someone to cheer me up.

She was from a fairly humble background and wasn't as privileged as I was, thus explaining the reason for her poor dress sense and shabby looks most of the time.

My parents were doing excellent financially and spared no expense getting me whatever I wanted therefore affording me the kind of life any girl my age would want to live and it wasn't long before I started sharing my things with her - provisions, dresses, bags, shoes just name it. My fondness of her knew no bounds and from the first time my mum met her, she fell in love with her. She was that charming and from then onwards, we started calling each other sisters.

When I travelled to England that summer, I made it a point of duty to buy similar things for both of us – clothes, shoes, bags and watches in different color shades just so we could perfect the sister act.

We had become inseparable.

Results for that semester were released and we did well to manage an above average cumulative GPA, so we decided to take a break from school work and build up on our social life. I was eager to get into the dating scene. Not like I was unattractive or didn’t have a nice body, I had loads of boys asking me out, I just wasn’t attracted to most of them, and the one I managed to date in first year was a total waste of time, we were both young and very naïve so broke up after a few months. I was looking to date a much older person, I wanted to lose my virginity as soon as I could – it was beginning to seem like a burden. Whenever Dee-Dee told me stuff about her sex life with her boyfriends, I always wished I could grab a boy off the street and get him to do some of the things she mentioned to me, but it wasn't feasible. Sometimes I would lock myself in the room and touch myself, hoping to feel the same sensation, but I heard nothing was as good as the real thing so I was all out to get myself a man.

I didn’t like any of the guys Dee-Dee introduced to me. Most of them were yahoo-yahoo boys who hardly spoke good English – that irked me a lot, or guys that just wanted to have sex with me and flee, that wasn’t what I wanted. Yes I was desperate for a man, but all I wanted was someone who would love me inside out and not just for my body.

Asides man hunting; we started frequenting school parties and soon became regular faces at virtually all of them, and I’d never forget the party that changed everything; it was the “Let’s Play Inexcess Party at Tribecca”. When the party fliers started going round school, for the first time in months, I was hesitant about attending. I reasoned it would be like the others, dance, drink, smoke cigarettes till I choke and then deal with a hangover all through the following day, but Dee-Dee was insistent on going and did a good job persuading me. We spent the eve of the party shopping for the perfect outfits and after going round all the boutiques on Opebi/Allen, we finally came up with two very daring short gowns.

On the day of the party, Dee-Dee had one of the boys at her beck and call come pick us from the front of Moremi hall and drove us to the venue of the party. As soon as were in, she quickly discharged him citing numerous excuses until he finally gave in and we were all by ourselves. The DJ did a good job playing hit songs that got us whining and grinding on each other until one of the waiters called our attention. He had placed a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin brut champagne on the table. We looked at each other, surprised at what just happened, I asked him why he dropped the bottle on our table since we were yet to order any drinks, he simply pointed in the direction of the bar and said the drink was from one of the guys sitting there.

The said guy was backing us so we couldn’t get a clear view of his face and just when I was about to reject the drink, he popped it open, filled up two glass cups and walked away. Without giving me a signal, Dee-Dee picked one of the glasses and sipped the content. She already had a guy she was treating well – grinding and whining hard on his ego. I looked on, stealing glances at the mystery guy, hoping he would look my way, but nothing, so I in turn grabbed the other glass, downed the content and kept dancing.

Then Wizkids-Tease me started blasting out of the speakers and as I danced, out of nowhere someone held me from behind and was flowing with my rhythm. I could tell from his hand that he was light skinned and from his grip he seemed mature. He was a pretty good dancer too and I knew I didn't do badly either because of the way he came alive in his pants. The music soon faded away and a relatively unknown song came on so I used that opportunity to find out who it was I was pleasing. I turned around and found this pretty boy with a towering height with a light skinned complexion that radiated around the room standing before me, apparently he was also the guy at the bar.

Jackpot, I've found my man.

He introduced himself as James and we talked for a few minutes before he walked away to the bar to get his friend.

Dang!!! He spoke English so eloquently with a bit of British accent in his tone - I almost had an episode of syncope.

He returned soon after with his friend who was also good looking but wasn't as ravishing as he was and in a split second Dee-Dee jumped from the guy she was dancing with to James' friend whose name was later revealed to be Bimbo. More bottles of champagne were ordered and we drank and danced till the wee hours of the morning. He put Dee-Dee and I in a cab that chauffeured us back to school that morning but not after exchanging phone numbers, blackberry pins and sharing a warm hug.

Arghhhh, it was love at first sight.

His call woke me up from a terrible hangover that Friday afternoon and I couldn't stop blushing and smiling during the call and even after he hung up. We got chatting later and I found out he was an alumni of my school and was managing his dad’s law chamber. A few days later he came to see me in school with lunch and drinks for me and my roommates. We sat in his car and talked and I can’t forget that was the day we shared our first kiss. It was very passionate. He asked me to be his girlfriend immediately after the kiss and it got me speechless. I was shocked and very excited at the same time because I wasn't expecting it and in as much as I wanted to say yes on the spot, I didn’t want to look cheap so I told him I'd get back to him on it. I played on his feelings for two weeks before finally agreeing to date him.

Adeola on the other hand had already had sexual relations with Bimbo and both of them were no longer on talking terms, but I didn't want to be bothered about her man issues, I was in love and that was all that mattered. James kept coming to check me in school and I frequently visited him at home too but we were yet to have sex, so the day he asked me to come over and spend a night at his place, I was overjoyed.

Yes the time had come.

That night, he took me and treated me like a queen. It was magical. There was a lot of pain but it was sweet pain. I soon stopped clubbing; drinking and doing everything James didn't want me doing.

Two years on and we were still good up till his work started taking him away most of the time. Sometimes he would go for months, and when he finally had time for me, our conversation was never void of work related things. I still loved him very much and I knew he felt same way and I respected the fact that it was his job and whatever he was doing was for a good purpose but sometimes I felt lonely and rejected.

When I told Dee-Dee about it she advised I got a boy on the side, preferably someone in school that I could have stuff with without James having an idea about anything. I thought about it for some days and when James called to inform me that he would be away for another month, I figured that was my cue to give it a try. Yomi was in my Faculty, and had been asking me out for a while, he was cute, funny and adorable and I liked him a bit so I agreed to date him but not after I told him about James and he stated categorically that didn’t have a problem with it.

But we didn’t last long as everything ended six months later after I got pregnant and he denied the paternity of the baby. Dee-Dee took me to a doctor who helped with aborting the pregnancy and I was full of thanks for her. I started missing what I had with James and regretted ever having anything to do with Yomi.

One weekend when I knew he was around I decided to pay him a surprise visit so I packed my bags and headed to his 1004 apartment from school. I rang the bell and he came out to open the door sweating profusely in his towel. He refused to let me in and was adamant I talked about whatever I had to say outside. I was surprised at his behavior and when I tried to wrestle him to let me in, he pushed me back towards the railing and started calling me names, names only someone that knew about my relationship with Yomi would call me. He knew about the abortion and everything that happened between Yomi and I. I was shell shocked and heartbroken; I didn’t want to conclude it was Dee-Dee that spilled the beans until I saw someone walk through the living room in plain underwear. A closer look revealed it to be her and I cried myself out as I left the apartment.

I trusted Adeola more than I trusted myself, I treated her like my sister, I confided in her about everything but she stabbed me in the back and took the one thing that mattered most to me. She encouraged me to date Yomi, I did, she insisted I went to the club with her; I did too, if only I knew. She called me two days ago to apologize and said she had an explanation for what happened. How do you explain revealing your friends secret to her boyfriend and sleeping with him afterwards?

It hurts to see someone you trust hurt you.

MEMOIRS OF A DRUG LORD (PART 2)

2012-08-27T09:25:00.002-07:00

I was so excited about coming back to Lagos, that all I could think about during the long drive from my hotel to the airport was how to flaunt my new found wealth, and most importantly how I'd use it to upgrade my social status.
I slept through the six hour flight and didn't wake up until the flight attendants announcement that all passengers should fasten their seat belts came through.
Yawns.
Tired and jet lagged, I fastened my seatbelt, wiped my face with my hand and looked through the window and I could see the aerial view of the airport as we approached the runway.
We were three minutes away from landing and this increased the anxiety in me.
After clearing myself with immigration and getting my luggage, I set out to hire a taxi to take me to the hotel where I was to meet up with Lateef and Chairman when I heard someone call out my name. It was Lateef.
I was surprised to see him because I called him a day before, reminding him of my purported arrival so he could make arrangements to come pick me up but he instead advised I hire a taxi. Anyway I walked to where the car was, exchanged pleasantries and in no time we were on our way to the hotel where chairman was anticipating my arrival. Inside the car, I took out the envelope Subusiso gave me and handed it over to him. He opened it and took out the content which was obviously stacks of money, counted it and gave me the - You did a good job look.

We arrived at the hotel and found Chairman in the hotel bar having drinks by himself and smoking his cigarette effortlessly.
One could tell something was wrong.
"Welcome back Michael, how was your trip?" He asked me forcing a smile on his face.
"It was good. Hoe gaan dit met sir? I replied chipping in a bit of Afrikaans I had learnt just to lighten up his mood.
"He laughed out loud - I see you had it good over there. Well I don't understand what you just said but I'm guessing Lerato taught you well"
We all burst into laughter as he walked out of the bar into the lobby with one of his bodyguards and Lateef just behind them. In the time while I waited for them to get back, I ordered myself a cold bottle of Star and a plate of eba and edika ikang.
That rubbish they served on the place didn’t fill me up at all.
I was barely halfway into drinking the beer while still expecting the food to arrive when they came back into the bar. I didn't need anybody to tell me whatever they talked about had a lot to do with me. It was all over their faces, and the way they kept staring got me so uncomfortable, I almost spilled half a glass full of beer on my pants if not for my quick reflex.
Then Chairman walked up to me and sat on the table-
"You did a good job and I must say I'm impressed"
"Thank you" I said with a bit of fear in my voice
"I have something bothering me and I need you to take care of it for me"
"Ok...ok. I stuttered. How can I be of help" in a more relaxed tone
"You see there's this boy that works for me, or let me say used to work for me. He delivered a parcel to someone in Abuja a few months back and has yet to pay me my money"
"I see, and how do I come in? You need me to go get the money for you?" I asked looking a tad confused.
"Well that's a part of it, but what I really need you to do is get rid of him. I hear he has plans of leaving the country. I don't want that plan materializing"
"With all due respect, if it’s what I think it is you want me to do, then I'm sorry I can't do it, not now, not in the future. I just got in from a six hours flight not long ago, I haven't even rested and I'm in dire need of sleep. I can't even do it, I'm sorry."
He took a glance at Lateef who was a few steps away from him, looked at me, and then counted forty notes of $50 bills and placed it on one side of the table and his gun on another.
I swallowed a large amount of saliva.
"Make your choice." He said
Fuck!!! What have I gotten myself into? I didn't bargain for this? All I came here to do was push drugs and make money, and now I'd have to kill too? I couldn't get my eyes off the money and also couldn't picture myself killing someone.
But after a few minutes I had come up with a decision and it wasn't a difficult one to make.
"I would do it".
Whatever would make me wealthy, money is the motive anyway.
"Perfect. Lateef would give you every detail you need about our guy and that’s the gun you would use – pointing at the gun on the table - but you would have to get it over with tonight; else I'd be the one pulling the trigger on you"
"You have nothing to worry about"
"You would get the balance of $1500 when the job is done." He said, then he came closer, held me by my shoulder and whispered in my ear - I trust you mike, I really do, but whatever you do, make sure you don't leave traces behind. Make sure he's dead before leaving the scene, because if there's a slip up, and its traced to me, I'd track every member of your family and kill them one after the other before taking your head” He said wearing an evil grin on his face as he smoothened the part of my shirt he had rumpled. Then he stood up and left the hotel with his bodyguards with Lateef once again behind them.

So Lateef knew about this and didn't let me in on it. Damn it - I said hitting the table hard.
I was literally shaking in my seat. I could still hear his voice playing in my head, he sounded angry and furious and I could sense the need for urgency in his voice. I had never killed anybody, I barely used to fight but the money was too tempting - I agreed to it and now there's no turning back.
I was hours away from pulling my first hit and I must say I was very scared. When Lateef came in, I didn’t know whether to get angry and put up a fight with him or just keep calm and follow up with the plan; the latter seemed the better thing to do. He gave me all the information I needed to know about the boy including his pictures and left a few minutes later.
The said boys name was Robert Ikueku, UNILAG undergraduate and PR to a popular club on the island. After giving it a series of thoughts, I reasoned the best way to take him out was to accost him on his way home from the club, when there won’t be many people on the road and kill him.

The food finally came, but the urge to eat had disappeared so I guzzled down the remaining beer, picked the money and gun then retired to one of the rooms that Chairman had on his tab.
At 11:30pm I decked up wearing a black v-neck shirt on faded blue jeans and blue tennis shoes, picked the already loaded gun and headed to the club in one of Chairman’s cars. I got to the club, left the gun in the car and went in. I sighted Robert soon after and I felt sorry for him because of what I was going to do to him, but my life was also at stake - there was no going back.

At 4:30am the club was getting empty so I went out into the car and waited for him to drive out. I forced myself to stay awake by playing loud music and smoking cigarettes but I found myself dozing off most of the time. After dozing off again I woke up to his car driving out of the club, by this time it was 5:30am already. My heart started beating fast and for a few seconds I was numb, then I got myself together, started the car and drove slowly behind him. We drove steady behind each other for a while till he made a turn into a quiet street off Ozumba-Mbadiwe.

Now is the time.
He slowed down a bit; I pulled up beside him and fired several shots into the car. I looked around and when I didn’t see anybody coming my way, I got down went towards his car and fired more shots at him. When I was sure he was dead, I started laughing. Something about seeing a dead body fascinated me so much that I went into the car trunk, got the car jack and hit his head continuously until his brain popped out.

In less than one week, I had grossed an equivalent of what I’d have made in a year and I just committed my first murder.

It felt good.

LOVE AND OTHER DRUGS

2012-08-21T08:12:00.001-07:00

Arrghhhh - Why did she have to do this to me? - I staggered into my room after getting intoxicated at Mummy Oshoke beer parlor. I jumped into my bed and lay there for a few minutes, dazed, not knowing what to do.

Where is my iPod?

I checked the side table where I always kept it, but it wasn't there. Forced myself up and looked everywhere, but still couldn't place where it was. Then it hit me - look into your pocket, and there it was. I lay back in bed, plugged the earphones in my ear and turned on the iPod. Somehow I skipped all the tracks from A-F until M.I's Forever came on. I nodded my head and sang along as it played through that I didn't know when the tears started rolling down my cheeks.

It was our theme song, Bimpe and I.

Did we have to let things get this bad? What did I do to deserve this? I thought you loved me Bimpe?

When the tears continued flowing, I sat upright on the bed, stopped the song and wiped my eyes with the duvet. Then all the memories we shared started popping into my head.

I remembered the day she agreed to date me, I remembered our first kiss. I remembered how we used to stay up all night to talk to each other and then sleep off listening to each other breathe over the phone.

I remembered our pet names for each other, I remembered how Forever became our theme song. I remembered how most times when we were together, I'd sit on the opposite side and just stare and smile at her for long periods, excited in my mind about how happy I was to have her in my life. I remembered how she used to blush whenever I said “I love you”.

I remembered our quarrels, sigh, I remembered how we were quick to say sorry to each other just because we couldn't go a day without talking to each other. But in just 24hrs, we had gone from I love you to I wish I never met you.

Where did I go wrong? What happened to I'd never leave you no matter what?

How did she do it?

She looked me in the eye – Kirey, it’s not like I don't love you anymore, that would mean me being heartless. I still love you very much and I know you love me too, but for us to work, IT WOULD TAKE MORE THAN LOVE, and I don't think I have anything left in me to make this work. I'm sorry, I can't continue with this relationship.

I thought she was joking and was waiting for her to take back her words and say she was joking, but she really meant it. We were over.

My heart ached, I had sleepless nights and I cried whenever I was left alone by myself, but it didn't change anything. I begged, got people to talk to her, even her siblings - yes that's how much I loved her, but she stuck to her NO and I wanted to hate her, but how do you hate someone you love?.

This whole thing happened in 2010, but it took me close to two years to understand why she left me and what she went through with me during the one year we dated. I had always thought as long as I loved someone that would be the only thing that mattered, but I was WRONG.

Every relationship requires both parties to LOVE, UNDERSTAND, TRUST and be FAITHFUL to each other.

Just recently I figured out why none of my past relationships ever worked out. I loved them, I trusted them and was faithful to an extent, but for some reason, I indirectly chose not to understand them.

“Kirey, let's go to the movies tomorrow"

"You know I'm the shy type boo I'd rather we spend the day indoors talking and playing catch up"

Another time

“Kirey let's go kart racing this weekend"

Kart racing ke, when I can use the money to drink beer?

"I'm sorry boo I've got stuff to do I think I'd be going out with my mum” and then on twitter - @Kireyy_N I had fun today hanging out with the boys.

These things hurt ladies/women, and even though they don't voice it out, deep inside them they are waiting and hoping that you realize these wrongs and right them.

The goodbye hugs, calling to say goodnight, telling her how beautiful she is even with a boil on her face, petty talks, surprising her with small gifts on random occasion’s asides their birthdays and valentine day, taking her out at least once in a while for the woman you say you love shouldn't be an issue and believe me when I say you cant go wrong with this.

I overlooked most of these things and so do most of us and when these ladies run out of patience and call off the relationship, we start looking for ways to blame them.
In recent times, people have misconstrued sex and love to be intertwined with each other, but I strongly disagree. You don’t have to be in love to have sex and vice versa. Don't get me wrong, I love sex, just like a whole lot of people do too because it’s the only exercise you partake in and never want it to end; but in reality you can be in love and understand, trust and be faithful to that person without having sexual relations with him/her. If you add sex to the factors I listed above, it would be a perfect combination – imagine making love/ having sex with the person you love. Take it away and the relationship would still stand, but take understanding or trust or faithfulness away from the relationship, and see how in your face the relationship would crumble.

Sex should be a thing of choice; it should never be the deciding factor in any relationship.

Finance also plays its role in every relationship. Unlike the classic humble beginning type of relationship most of our parents were involved in back in the day where two people start from scratch and build their fortune together, this generation is more about the ready-made. Girls want to date rich boys and boys want to date girls that won’t serve as liabilities at the end of the day which makes a bit of sense but I can't understand girls with the slogan - I must marry a rich dude - money can buy love - if I marry a rich guy I know id end up falling in love with him, at least it’s better to drive a Mercedes than ride a bicycle.

It’s very normal to desire the best things in life, but how many relationships built on money have lasted? Yes he would buy you the Louboutin shoes, Gucci, Prada and the LV wears you've always dreamt of, take you on expensive trips abroad and readily make cash available to you, but how long would the relationship with a guy who knows he bought you with money last?

Don’t get me wrong there are rich guys who love their women and pamper them with whatever it is you can think of, but when money is the motive what happens when the money isn’t there anymore, does the love die too? Would money tell you I love you when you so dearly want to hear it? Would money hold you close and keep you warm on those cold lonely nights?

All of a sudden the money wouldn’t mean anything anymore and you are back to square one.
So what am I saying, don't blame every break up on the person that carried out the act. Sometimes it’s better to do a reality check on yourself first using the reasons he/she gave for the breakup as a platform before jumping to conclusions. It just might be that thing you considered not important that made you lose the one you love.
In conclusion, don't go into any relationship if you are not ready to LOVE, TRUST, UNDERSTAND and be FAITHFUL that person else if you are someone like me you'd just keep getting hurt.

MEMOIRS OF A DRUG LORD (PART 1)

2012-08-18T12:58:00.003-07:00

I was awoken by the loud music coming off my neighbour’s speakers, barking of dogs and the loud chatter of some idiots gossiping outside my window. Checked the time on my phone, and it was 1pm already.
Damn this life mehn, I couldn’t have slept for that long?
I gave out a loud yawn, did a bit of stretching, picked up a tee shirt and short knickers from the heap of cloths by the side of the bed, slipped into my rubber slippers and headed out of the room to the front yard of my face-me-I-face-you house.
The stench of urine, clothes soaked in water for days and spoilt food circulated through the walkway, with dirty pots and waste materials littering the whole floor but I had been living here for a while so I was used to it.
I got out, finding my neighbour beating his wife up because he suspected her of cheating on him. Some neighbours tried to separate them, while others just stood there feeding their eyes and passing comments.

Yoruba people love fighting at any given chance.

I went through the crowd that was already gathering, and crossed over to the other side of the road to urinate. When I was done, I looked in the direction of my house and saw the couple still fighting so I opted to go on with my business for that day instead of going back inside.

I walked around for a while, turning into four streets before coming to a dusty path that housed an uncompleted building.

After looking around to confirm I wasn’t followed, I entered the house through the back, got one of the tables left by the former builders, and dragged it to section of what was supposed to be the sitting room. I climbed on it and pulled out a nylon bag from the ceiling. I poured the content out on the table and was pleased to find out that every wrap of marijuana and the other hallucinates I placed there were intact. I packed everything back into the nylon, dragged the table to its former position and then set out to deal.

I had been dealing drugs for some years now, say five years and I had turned out to be the neighbourhood’s favourite dealer. It didn’t take long before people from other parts of town started patronizing me as my clientele ranged from young to old, men and women and often times members of the police area command would come around to smoke some jumbo sticks and id give them for free - at least for the sake of protection. I wasn’t making much off it but I was making enough to pay my rent, cloth myself and put food on my table.

Anyway, I headed to my usual spot – a bar that’s ten minutes walking distance from the uncompleted building where I usually stashed my stuff. The manager there allowed me sell my stuff, on the condition that he got a cut from my earnings anytime I came around and my clients don’t smoke around the premises.

I got down to drinking a bottle of star lager beer as I anticipated making good sales that day when Lateef one of my loyal customers came in.

"Baba owfar you now, I don dey find you since reach wey be sei I find you go house, I get package for you ooo" he said as he shook my outstretched hand and sat down
"You of all people suppose know sei I no dey sell dope for house now. How many you want?"
"No be that one I find come, I get package for you. E get one chairman wey ready sponsor you go abroad and you go make big money ontop am"
"Hahaha- I laughed out loud. You funny ooo, person wey never see me before wan send me go abroad, why you yourself never go?"
"Who tell you sei I never go shey na all my movement you sabi nii? Listen na coco parole and na me be link between the chairmen and boys wey dey carry am travel and I dey see my own cut for there. Believe me money dey this level"
"Hmmm coco abi cocaine?. Break the whole thing down for me and if I gree how much I go dey see ontop am?"
"Now you are talking, na like dis e be, after you gree sei you go do the level, we go go see chairman. He go run your visa for you then give you upfront money and when you carry the package reach that side, you go collect the balance"
"Security nko"
"No worry about that one, my chairman get that one on check your own na make you just carry the package deliver am to our contact for that side"
This is an opportunity for me to get something going and start living that life I've always dreamed of
"Ok I go do am"
"Good. For night I go track you come meet me for ikeja then we go go see chairman"
"Oshee baba mii, nice one. Take this five wraps make you use am hold body till we see for night"
He collected them from me and took a gulp of my beer before hurrying out of the bar.

O boy, if this thing clicks I might just become a millionaire sooner that I thought.

Made good sales that day but most of them were on credit basis as all I could think of was the conversation I had with Lateef.

Lateefs call came in a few minutes past 10pm and he requested I meet him in front of Tasty Fried Chicken in Ogba. I immediately stopped dealing for the day and rushed home to freshen up and change clothes. I hit the road from Ketu to Ikeja using Okadaas my mode of transport and arrived there at 11pm.

There was a car waiting already so as soon as I got there, I got in and we headed straight to a strip club on Allen Avenue.

We were quickly ushered into the VIP section by the bouncers who were familiar with Lateef as soon as we got to the club. The setting portrayed the biblical description of Sodom and Gomorrah and being my first time at a strip club, I was amazed at the amount of sexual perversion that prevailed around the room with loud music and cigarette smoke lighting up the place.

We kept bumping into naked girls and drunken men as we walked around until we arrived at a table in the corner of the room. There were four, hefty mean looking men standing around the table with loads of naked girls dancing around. Lateef whispered into the ears of one of the men who shoved some of the girls away revealing who would later be Chairmanand then relayed what Lateef had said to him. He then signaled the man now revealed to be one of his bodyguards to allow us sit at his table.
The Chairmanlooked younger that I thought, give or take he couldn't be older than thirty-five, but he had been able to carve a niche for himself in the drug trade in Nigeria at least according to what Lateef had told me during our ride to the club..
The ladies were ordered to leave the table after which we got down to business.
"Chairman gbogbo boys, Baba Agbalagba, Baba Ara, Oosha lomo – Lateef hailed Chairman- this is the guy I told you about. Very smart and articulate, I think he can help bridge the gap between us and other cartels"

"Have you done this before? I mean travel with drugs". Chairman asked me as he puffed his expensive cigar.

"No sir"

"And do you think you are capable of pulling it off seeing you've never done it before?"

"Yes sir. Everything in life entails risk and as much as I'm scared to do it, I need to do it to be able to live the life I desire"

"Brilliant, brilliant. Your first trip would be to South Africa in ten days, get your passport across to Lateef and he would do the necessary things to be done including giving you all the info you would need concerning the client over there. Ok"

"Alright Chairman"

"Good...can we get back to the party now? Doggy- referring to one of his bodyguards - get those big booty girls back here and order more drinks"

We partied till the wee hours of the morning before everybody went their separate ways.

Five days later I got a call from Lateef to meet him at a hotel in G.R.A, Ikeja. I dashed down there as fast as I could.

He was there with Chairman, his bodyguards and some other guys. My flight documents were ready and my flight was scheduled for two days later. I was going to travel with 10kg of cocaine and get $1000 upfront and the other $1500 after delivering the package to the client in Pretoria. Everything seemed Ok with me except the fact that I would have the parcel concealed in my box instead of swallowing them but Lateef and Chairman assured me that they had security at both ends sorted out so I didn't have to worry about anything.

I arrived at the airport early enough for check in, went past immigration without a hitch and words can’t explain how happy I was when the flight attendant came on the microphone with this announcement-
"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome on board Flight 204 with service from Lagos to Johannesburg. We are in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately three minutes time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments....."
I heaved a big sigh as I fastened my seatbelt and anticipated take-off.
It was a six hour flight and we didn't touchdown at the O.R Thabo airport in Johannesburg until 5pm that evening.
I was tired, fidgety and then my sweat pores started to give way. While going through immigration, one of the officials came to my side, checked my passport and pulled me out of the queue.
God what sort of rubbish is this?
He walked me into an office, locked the door and after a brief talk I found out he was Chairmanslink. He made sure he cleared me himself and had his eye on me till I left the airport.
As I stepped out of the airport, a man dressed in a well cut black suit, wearing a plain white shirt to match and dark glasses approached me. He enquired about my name and when I confirmed it to him; asked that I follow him to his car as he was directed to chauffeur me to my hotel.
It was a long drive from the airport to the hotel that was booked on my behalf in Pretoria and as I struggled to sleep, I couldn't help but notice the well structured buildings and streetlights that adorned the streets.
We got to the City Lodge hotel on Hatfield road, Pretoria at about 8pm and I checked in immediately. A few minutes later there was someone at the door, I opened it and it was Subusiso the client Lateef had told to me about. He examined the parcel, confirmed it was of good quality and then handed an envelope to me. We shook hands as he left the room but not without inviting a lady in and according to him, “that was his way of saying thank you”.
She walked in, went straight for the perfectly laid king-sized bed and sat. She introduced herself as Lerato after which we got into a bit of chit chat. I could see it in her eyes that she wasn't too interested in the conversation as it was burning with lust but I didn't want to give into sex easily. I got up from her side, stripped to my boxer shorts and went into the bathroom to shower. I heard the radio come on and it was Boys2mens I’ll make love to you record playing. I ignored it and continued bathing, facing the shower pump when the door opened. I knew it was Lerato but I didn't turn around because I wanted to know what she was on about.
She grabbed me from behind and I felt her warm breasts push hard against my back. My penis immediately got an erection.
As much as I wanted to put up a front, no man dare reject this kind of opportunity.
I turned around; with my hands now wrapped around her waist and hers around my neck I kissed her. I held her tight and I could feel the warmth inside of her and I could tell she was very horny. She dashed out of the bathroom and returned seconds later with a condom, I took it tore the wrapper off and slid it on my bulging penis. With the water pouring down on us, I kissed her deeply, spun her around, placed her hands on the shower door, kicked her legs into position and with one thrust I was inside her. I grabbed her breasts and with more thrusts she was moaning hard. I turned her to face me, lifted her right leg for deeper penetration and slid my penis into her wet vagina.
Come harder, come harder, come harder - she screamed-and with a loud shout and scratch at my back she came and I soon followed suit. We laughed at each other’s dirty jokes as we washed up. We ordered some food and a few hours later we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I woke up the next day to find out she had gone but she left a note on the side table with her number on it.

“Smiles” This is the life I want, and this is the beginning of many good deals.

OBSESSION (FINAL CHAPTER)

2012-08-14T10:32:00.000-07:00

"I caused pain for your family? How is that even possible? You're based in Abuja and I, in Lagos." I said, looking a tad confused.

He wiped the tears off his face, grabbed a chair and sat in front of me

"Do you remember any Tomi Cole? Light skinned, slim, tall...." He questioned

"Well, the name sounds familiar and the profile fits as well, but I don't think I have met her. Who is she?"

"Cast your mind back to Segun's house-warming party last year. Do you remember the girl that wore the very short dress with a rose bow in front, which got us all passing comments? The girl with the British accent whom I eventually dated."

"Oh, that girl! Yes I remember her, what's she got to do with this?"

"I know you had your eyes on her, but did you at anytime get down with her during that period or after?"

"Is it my sex life that is causing tears in your family, why all these questions? Please, I refuse to answer that question or any other one that relates to my sex life." I was getting irked already, and just wished I could have a go at him, but Tiger was standing behind me, ready to call me to order, should I falter.

"It’s your life that is at stake here, I can blow your head off at anytime and walk out of here a free man, so don't act stupid. Once again, did you have anything to do with her?!!!" He asked, and I could sense the anger in the tone of his voice.

"Yes I did, I got her number that day and we got talking afterwards. I saw her again at a concert after which we had some drinks and ended up having sex at my house that night. But that was the only time it happened". I knew Halima had been staring at me and was definitely jolted by my revelation but I wasn't bothered, as my safety was all that mattered.

"Please, what does this have to do with anything?" I asked

"When did you sleep with Hadiza....my sister? Was it around that time?"

I became speechless, and then my heart started beating fast. How did he know? I thought to myself.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out? Answer the bloody question before I rid you of one of your legs". He said, shouting at the top of his voice.

"I...it..it was a few months after then, but you can't understand. It happened suddenly, and I don't know what she told you, but please give me a chance to explain?" I cried out

"I should give you a chance to explain?" He asked rhetorically, and then he smiled.

"A chance to explain how you were not able to control your OBSESSION for anything in skirt, or a chance to explain how Tomi, Hadiza and contracted the H.I.V virus? You and every other person knew Tomi and I were seeing eachother, but you still went ahead to have sexual relations with her.

After a few health complications, I visited a doctor who confirmed to me that I had the virus. Hadiza went to the hospital for a random checkup and she also tested positive to the virus. Now tell me, is this a co-incidence?"

I was shell-shocked. I wasn’t sure whether it was the fact that he knew about the affair I had with his sister, or the fact that both of them were H.I.V positive that got me petrified. Then it struck me – Hadiza and Tomi must have contracted the virus from me, but how? For some seconds, I wished the ground would open up and swallow me, and then I thought - Tiger’s bullet in my skull would do the magic just fine.

After all was said and done, I pleaded with Adamu to try and temper justice with mercy. His sole aim was to rid me of all my assets (cash and kind) but then he reasoned, of what use it would be to him when he had just a short time to live since the virus had advanced to the A.I.D.S stage. He swore never to forgive me as he left my house in tears with Tiger and so did Halima.

As soon as I was untied and let loose, I scheduled an appointment with my doctor, and even though I finally confirmed I had the virus, it was still at the H.I.V stage which meant if I took care of myself, I would live longer than Adamu and Hadiza.

Hadiza went on to commit suicide, Adamu handled the situation recklessly and died a few months after Hadiza passed on and I haven’t heard from Halima or Tomi since everything came up.

I had opened Pandora’s Box on myself, and I knew from that point on, my life would never be the same again.

LIFE OF A STREET KID

2012-08-09T11:31:00.002-07:00

“Rashidi!!! Rashidii!!! Check inside the boot of that red BMW make you carry spanner come for me quick quick”
“I dey come Oga”
I rushed to the car, got the spanner and rushed back to where he was.
“Oya stand there make you dey look as I go loose this engine because next time na you I go give the work do”
So I stood beside him and looked on till he was done.
“You don see as I do am abi? When I dey couple am back you go dey my side as you dey today so that when e reach your turn you go fit do am well. You hear me so?”
“I hear you Oga”
“You don chop today?”
“No, I neva chop anything”
“Ok, take this N200 make you find something chop and if you finish make you keep all the tools, make sure sei all the cars dey locked and clear everywhere before you close. You hear me so? This one wey you dey do like person wey wan faint. I don go house be that, bye bye”.

My name is Rashidi Akinyemi and I'm a mechanic at Onyedika and sons mechanic workshop. I moved to Lagos 5yrs ago from Ilorin at the request of my mum’s sister, Aunty Tanwa who promised to train me and send me to school.
My parents didn't think twice before agreeing to let me go as they saw it as a good thing and I was also excited about it especially the fact that I'd get to go to school and do something to better myself.

Exactly a week after my aunty made the request, we set out on our journey to Lagos. We got into Lagos late that day because of an accident that occurred on the express, so as soon as we alighted from the bus at Ojota garage, she hired a cab to take us to her Kano street, Ebute-metta abode which she shared with her husband and three children.
When we got to the house, having met her husband and children, she gave me the key to one of the rooms in the boy’s quarters and said that's where I'd be staying.

I was overcome with joy and happiness as it had everything we didn't have in my home town in Ilorin...air conditioner, DVD player and most importantly a bed assigned to me. After a big meal of fufu and egusi soup I retired to my room to sleep.
At about 5am the following morning there was a loud bang on the door. I struggled to wake up and when I got myself together and opened it, it was Aunty Tanwa at the door. She wanted me to sweep the compound at that time of the morning without prior notice. I was still very sleepy, tired and angry but I couldn't say no to her so I picked a broom and went on about the chore.

From that day onwards, it was chores, chores and more chores. If I'm not sweeping I'd be washing, or going to the market. She always made sure there something for me to do to keep me busy even if it meant loosening her hair.

The first time I asked about school and when I would be enrolled, she got angry and told me “ko ori buruku oshi e kuro ni ibi bai, ki lo mo nipa skul to n kigbe lori mii” meaning get your good for nothing self out of here, what do you know about going to school that is making you shout at me?
Then the whole thing started making sense to me, "she didn't bring me to Lagos to get trained or get an education, she brought me here to serve as “omo odo”.

And as I washed the heap of clothes she had ordered me to wash earlier in the day, I couldn’t help but think about how my life would have been better off if I stayed back in the village. It ticked me off so much that I decided not to do any other chore throughout the day and instead opted for sleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night hungry, so I went to the kitchen in the main house hoping to get some food from the cook when I bumped into my Aunty.
“Where are the clothes I asked you to wash”
“They are on the line ma”
“Is there another sun coming out to dry them this night that you decided to leave them outside till this time to get infested by bugs”
“I will go.....” She cut in
“Did you sweep the compound, clean the children’s room and mow the lawn as I asked you to?” She asked in an angry tone
"No ma I was tired"
"You were tired?"
She grabbed me by the neck, pulled me close and beat me like a thief so bad that when she got tired of using her hands, she decided to use the pestle on me.

I had taken enough of the ill treatment and I couldn’t bear it any longer, and out of annoyance and frustration, I picked my nylon of clothes and ran away from the house
Without a destination, security not guaranteed and less than N350 on me I set out on the streets of Ebute-Metta looking for a place to lay my head for the night. Having walked for over an hour, the saw mill facing the sea and over-looking the famous 3rd mainland bridge seemed like the best place to spend the night.

I made do with a bench in one of the mills and covered myself with one of my bubas when the cold started getting to me. The following morning, the sawing, milling and grinding of machines from the mills woke me up and when I checked around, I found out my nylon was missing and so was my money. I asked some men around about it but no one could offer an explanation. With just the clothes I had on, and the buba I used in covering myself at night, I left the mill.

I walked around aimlessly, playing with saw dust, and not knowing what the next minute had for me when I came across a field where some boys were playing soccer, so I joined one of the teams and played with them. I could tell with the look of things that most of them were either homeless or just had parents that didn’t care about them but Sikiru and I seemed to connect on many levels, having spoken to him I figured we shared a similar story only in his own case, it was his step-mother that frustrated him out of the house. He was much older than me and had been living on the mill for eight years and so had become popular in the area.

He bought me lunch that afternoon and also ffered to allow me stay with him and some of his friends in their shack. The following day he took me to his workshop on Kadara Street to see his Oga, and that was where I first learnt the basics of being a mechanic before getting my freedom. The living condition here isn't so different from the way it is in Ilorin except over here the sea is closer to us unlike over there where we had to walk many kilometers before we get to the nearest stream.

It’s always very cold at night because of the closeness of the sea and on some occasions when the rain comes down hard, it washes the shack away prompting us to build another one immediately it stops raining. We bath in the same water we urinate, defecate and do our laundry in. I had the same shirt and trouser on for weeks so when I came across two tee shirts and a khaki trouser at the refuse dump I didn't hesitate to pick them. I soon got used to life on the street and learnt to take each day one step at a time.
Some of the boys around wanted to take advantage of the fact that I was new there to bully me, but I always put up a fight and it wasn’t long before some of them started calling me “onijongbon” which means I’m a trouble maker but it’s not true. I only fight people that trouble me.
The older folks called me "Cicero" and Gani because to them I look like Bola Ige and acted like Gani Fawehinmi.
A few months after I moved in with Sikiru, he was killed by a trigger happy policeman after engaging him in an argument. Leaving me to fend for myself as I hardly used to relate with the other occupants of the room.
I walk from the shack to the workshop in Adekunle every day spending at least 45mins on each round trip to and fro. Sometimes I go days without food and survive on just water.
Before today for instance, I had not eaten anything since two days ago so you can imagine how happy I was when Oga Onyedika gave me that N200.
I haven't seen or heard from my family now in 5yrs and even though I miss them, in a way I feel indifferent about it. Sometimes when I think about them, I feel they knew about Aunty Tanwa’s plot to turn me into a slave but I’ve since moved on from that now.
I still want to go to school, I still want to get educated and even though it doesn’t look feasible at the moment I still hold on to the quote “when there is life there is hope”.
These days the only thing I think about is how I would make money to build another shack for me and my new family as my girlfriend Lola alata is carrying my child, and this thought clouds my head whenever I'm working because even though my future might look bleak, I don't want my child suffering the same fate.

I sleep every night and wake up every morning hoping and praying to God to send a Good Samaritan to me, but everyday just ends like the previous day.

OBSESSION (PART 6)

2012-08-06T10:51:00.005-07:00

"Wake up you moron, get your stupid self up"- I heard in my subconscious as I stumbled in and out of consciousness. I could hear distant voices of people laughing and chattering away around me, and I could tell that one of them was Adamu, because of the tone in the voice and the Hausa diction that distinguished it, but I couldn't act on anything.

I passed out again, and the next thing I knew, “whoosh", I was drenched in water. This sent me back to life immediately, and after having passed out for hours, I felt alive again.

My hands were tied behind the chair I was seated, so were my legs. I was helpless and in an attempt to control the movement of water trickling down my face and the rays of light coming in, I turned my face sideways and noticed someone else bound to another chair across the room. There was a tape around this person's mouth.

A closer look revealed Halima, I was shocked. "Shouldn't they be working together?" I thought to myself.

Then Adamu walked up to me with another man he simply referred to as "Tiger". He held my chin up, and at that point, I could swear that he was going to kill me. He landed a slap on my cheek, which left me temporarily deaf on my left ear. I would have struggled to break free to challenge him, but asides the fact that I was tied up, the sight of him and Tiger brandishing their guns immediately calmed me down. So I did the most logical thing, I asked what I had done to warrant the ill treatment.

He smiled, turned around and walked towards the window while Tiger stood by, pointing his gun at my head. Then he shouted, as if he was hit by something, turned sharply at me, and I could see tears from his eyes. He walked back in my direction, trying hard to fight back the tears. He came close to me and asked, "How did you meet her?” pointing to Halima. I was beginning to wonder if she was the reason he was in tears, then I replied, "I met her at a party".

"What is her name?" he questioned further, I looked at him, puzzled, then answered "Halima, of course!" He slapped me again, and I was beginning to think he was having fun playing villain. Then he walked to her, hit her head with the butt of the gun, took the tape off her mouth and grabbed her by the neck. At this point, I was already getting infuriated by his violent act towards me because I didn't know why or what he was mad about. The thought of being held hostage in my house ticked me off the more, and as tried to break free of the rope tied around my hand, Tiger edged close and made the knot even tighter than before.

"Tell him who you are" Adamu yelled. "A....a...aaa..." she stuttered

"Talk, woman!" Adamu yelled again, looking fierce. She stuttered again, and then he corked his gun and pointed it at her "Talk", he reiterated, "…before I blow your head off".

"A..aaa...Abigail Nurtey. My name is Abigail Nurtey, I'm from Ghana. I moved into Nigeria from Tema 15years ago, and I've been living by myself since then." She continued.

Then Adamu turned to me “five years ago, I met Abigail at a club in Abuja where she was a big-time prostitute. We got talking and then I decided to hire her services for the night. We went to my apartment and after we were done, I paid her and she left. I contracted her services a few more times after that night, and one day, she came into my house without an invite – she probably had the spare keys - barged into my room and found me with another prostitute who happened to be her flat-mate. She left without uttering a word, and I continued with what I was doing. Five minutes later I heard a loud bang; I looked up and noticed smoke coming from outside. I put on a pair of shorts and went out to see what had happened, my car was caught up in flames, and if not for the assistance from neighbors, my house would have been razed by the fire. I hadn't seen her for five years until Friday, when she came around. I didn't even recognize her until I came across an old ID card of hers on the floor after she left that Friday night which had the same names she had given me years back"

My jaws dropped, as I wished the floor would open up and swallow me; I couldn't believe what I had just heard.

"I had been in a relationship with a prostitute for two years? No, no, no!" I soliloquized. Adamu cut in, and continued, "I'm not here for her, and even though I'm happy I found her - because I will make her pay for the atrocious act she committed - I actually came to Lagos because of you, as you have caused me and my family pain, tears and many sleepless nights.

CHILD ABUSE (PART 2)

2012-08-02T12:03:00.001-07:00

It was difficult adapting to life after the separation, because even though he was hardly ever home, I had managed to keep a closely-knit relationship with my father.

I tried talking to my mum to get the details about what really happened but she always had a way of getting around the subject matter and after a while I stopped asking and soon got used to life without him.

I had just turned sixteen, and with that, came more pimples, increase in height, a thick voice, and the constant urge to explore my sexuality. Some nights in my dream, I would see myself with Aunty Blessing having sexual relations, and when I woke up, my briefs would be soaked; I later understood the concept of wet dreams. Whenever I saw a lady between ages fourteen and twenty five, the only thing that would ring in my head was sex.

I was a shy person, so it wasn't easy making friends - especially girls, but I was able to strike a friendship with Femi the minute we became seat partners. We had some similarities - except he wasn't shy and he was sexually active, according to him, while I was zoned to my dreams.

One day, during the Summer break, he called and said he'd be coming over to play video games. I was pumped up by this because I hardly ever had visitors besides my cousins. Often times, my mum would chip in words like "Do you even have friends at all?" between our conversations, so I also wanted her to see I wasn't all that anti-social.

His driver dropped him off at about 3:15 that Saturday afternoon, and we immediately settled in to a heated competition with a series of FIFA games. Then my mum dashed out of her room dressed up for a party; this saddened me because we talked earlier and she had agreed to spend the day hanging out with Femi and I, but then, it was my mum - very typical. I shrugged and continued with my game. The maid brought us cookies and juice and then retired back to her room.

After gaming for two straight hours, we decided to take a break to relax, then Femi brought out a CD from his combat shorts. He claimed that it was a new movie he just got and was sure I'd like it. It was titled Chronicles of Jada Fire and since I was a Sci-Fi/Fantasy movie person, I slot the disc into the player and waited for the picture to come up. I was bemused by what came up on the screen. I had heard all sorts about pornography, but seeing it for the first time sent shock waves around my body. As I tried to control the activity going on below my belt, Femi just sat there laughing at me, making jokes about what he thought my first time would be like, but that didn't disturb me as the whole activity on the screen got my attention. When I heard the maid’s footsteps approaching the living room I quickly ejected the disc and flung it at him. We talked about sex for the remaining minutes he spent at mine, before his driver came. He mentioned that he knew a place he could take me to, where the ladies there would treat me good, but I'd have to hold some money with me. I agreed to go there with him, and we fixed the following day to make the trip.

It was a long night as I was awake most of the time, thinking and anticipating what my first official encounter with sex would be like, until I finally dozed off.

After church, I had lunch and then sat in my room patiently awaiting Femi’s call. It finally came at exactly 5pm that evening, so I left the house, telling my mum that I was heading to the cinemas, after which she gave me N5000. The driver dropped me off, and as soon as he turned around, I stopped a cab and headed straight to the beach, which wasn’t so far away. Femi asked me to wait outside for him.

I called him when I got there and he joined me minutes later. We proceeded to the entrance of the beach, paid the compulsory gate fee of N1000 each before making our way to the beach itself; walking past different bars, Indian hemp smokers, a host of street kids and then tons of semi-clad women, who I later realized were prostitutes roaming around. After walking a good distance from where the crowd was, we arrived at a wooden shack with red and green bulbs that served as lighting. There were chairs and tables outside to signify they were running a bar, but then, more semi clad women and men ranging from young to old were going in and coming out of the shack all sweaty.

We sat at one of the tables, and then a lady came to take our orders. Femi requested for a bottle of small stout while I asked for a non-alcoholic Malt drink, but after much persuasion from Femi to join him in taking alcohol, I finally settled with something with a mild percentage of alcohol. Midway into the drinks, he got up and went into the shack and came out five minutes later with two women. I call them women because they were at least double my age if not more. With the way they were talking and jesting, I concluded that they were friends. They joined us on the table and then we ordered more drinks. I was already getting tipsy when Femi ordered one of them to take me inside and make me happy. Her room was stuffy with clothes hanging everywhere, and even though it was still it was still bright outside, light rays struggled to penetrate the window, so we had to make do with a lantern.

She took off her dress and I did same. Then she pulled out a condom from under her bed, tore the wrapper off and wore the latex on my erect penis and we got down to business. After about 5minutes, I felt a sensation down there and then I started to shake - I had just ejaculated for the first time. I wore my clothes, paid her the N700 she charged me and then went outside to meet Femi.

We headed home afterwards, and by the next month before school resumed, I started frequenting various brothels on the Island. I had become a sex freak. My addiction to pornography didn't help matters, and whenever I didn't have money to patronize a prostitute, I resorted to masturbating.

I was able to graduate from Secondary School with mere credits in all subjects, and with my mum's connections, I secured an admission into the prestigious University of Lagos.

I was able to pull through, despite hard partying, and graduated with honors. After having raped five girls, leaving two seriously injured in the process - adding to my list of felonies.

I'll be 25 this year, and I'll live the rest of my life behind bars. I killed my mum, and made an attempt on my father's life before I was apprehended by the law.

Who is to blame for everything that I've been through? Having contracted several venereal diseases that have rendered me impotent, I have no family to think about.

I blame my parents for allowing Aunty Blessing ruin my life, putting me in this situation that I am. It was all work, work, work and no time for me.

I can't say that I'm a fulfilled man, but somehow, I'm sure I'll find peace someday - behind these steel bars.

My name is Kunle George, this is my story.

*A lot of people share a similar story with Kunle and even though not in the same circumstances, some can relate to this.

There are cases of parents abusing children I mean both father and mother, relatives, guardians and most recently teachers and when you trace the origin of these unusual behavior you would notice it was as a result of the inability of a maid, family friend, relative or uncle to control their sexual hormones.

What is the lesson here? Pay more attention to the affairs of your children, you really don’t know who the devil is.

OBSESSION (PART 5)

2012-07-30T11:44:00.002-07:00

I just sat on the edge of the bed, fixated on the phone and lost in thought. I was trying very hard to decipher why Halima had taken it upon herself to make my life miserable but I couldn’t come up with a logical explanation for her erratic behavior.

The thought of opening the message to read her chat history with this mystery man filtered through my head and each time it came up, I shove the phone to one side of the bed and my face in the other direction as if to say I was not interested.

Then the phone beeped to signify another message had come in, as I scrambled to get hold of it, with so much hate and disgust in my eyes I turned around to check if the hypocrite of a woman wasn't awoken by the beep of the phone and my scrambling to get it. But no she wasn't, she just lay there like a log of wood and slept like a baby. I turned my attention back to the phone and hoped the message she had just received would serve as the final bait that I'd use to end whatever was between us.

Once again I scrolled through the phone and opened her BBM and when I saw who the message was from and what the first caption read, my heart literally skipped a beat and I didn’t know when I opened the chat.
I had seen Halima break another girls head in the past, I had witnessed Halima harass people in public male/female including myself, most recently she threatened to circulate nude pictures of me that she had taken after breaking into my house and raping me and just minutes earlier I found out she was in a romantic relationship with someone else, but what I just uncovered, jolted me so hard that at a stage I started to struggle to catch my breath.
"I have waited over two hours and you still haven't shown up. If I don't see you in the next twenty minutes our agreement would be off and I would be forced to tell him who you really are........" was the message Adamu my friend sent to Halima.

It didn't look right, neither did it sound right. I really could worry less about Halima but "what did Adamu have on her that would give him the guts to order her to his room at that time of the night that even my presence didn’t matter to him?....I said to myself.

Then I felt her legs wiggle behind me, I immediately ended the chat, threw the phone back into her bag and then quietly got under the duvet and acted like I had been sleeping all along.
I was no longer confused, I was beginning to get scared as the people I thought I once knew were starting to seem like strangers to me.
I then made up my mind to confront Adamu about everything the following day and as I forced myself to get some sleep, I felt Halima get up from my side but because I was facing the other way I couldn't see or tell what she was up to. I heard the clinging of the keys to the side drawers and after a while she closed it and made her way to the side of the room I was facing paced around for about five minutes and was even making faces at me, I guess that was a test to know if I was awake or not but I kept my calm and didn't fidget at all. After some minutes, she left the room and then I got up.
I went straight into her bag to check for her phone but it was gone, I could only assume she was headed to Adamu's room. After thirty minutes passed and she had not returned, I decided to go to the guest room where Adamu was sleeping to see for myself.

I got to the room and placed my ear on the door hoping to hear the sound of moaning or something of that sort but there was nothing, so I peeped through the key hole to try and get a view of the inside.
There was a gun on the table, Halima was seated on the chair and from what I could see and from the little I heard, I came to a conclusion that she was being made to forge a signature because she would scribble something on a paper, he would tear it off and hit her head with the butt of the gun and then tell her to attempt it again.

Then I remembered that the drawer Halima had opened earlier on was where I normally kept my cheque books and all my other important documents. So I dashed straight to my room, opened the drawer to make sure all my documents were safe and alas, all the cheque books I maintained with banks were I kept huge amounts of money were missing.

Without giving it a thought, I pulled out a box from under my bed, opened it and brought out the semi-automatic pistol I had inherited years back from my father. I put a round of bullets in it and headed back to Adamu's room.

In a rage of anger, I brought down the door to his room with a single kick and looked around but there was nobody there and before I could utter the words “Jack Robinson”, I felt something hard hit me from behind that sent me straight to the ground. I could hear people talk around me but I couldn’t see anything and soon after I passed out.

CHILD ABUSE (PART 1)

2012-07-26T16:01:00.003-07:00

Mum and dad always came home late from work, so I had to get used to being taken care of by housemaids. By the time I was seven, we had changed maids about five times and Aunty Blessing was the sixth. She however seemed to be the only one in mummy's good books. She had spent over a year with us and somehow, she was beginning to feel like family. She cooked well, cleaned well and went on with her duties accordingly. She had completed her Secondary School education, and when mum noticed her diligence, she was considering sending her to the university to further her studies. Albeit, she was rather skeptical about bringing someone else to take care of me whenever she and daddy weren't home, hence she was forced to shove the thought aside.

Aunty Blessing was very nice to me. She would buy me biscuits and sweets whenever I asked for them and would also play with me whenever I wanted to. I was very comfortable around her.

One day when mum and dad were out (I remember it was a Saturday, because I didn't go to school), she called me into her room to help out with something. Without a clue, and with all the innocence that money could possibly buy, I gladly skipped to her room. Once I got in, she took off her top, removed her and bra and asked me to come over her to help massage her breasts as she claimed to be feeling some pains there. Mum always allowed me in her room whenever she was getting dressed, and I never got to fondle with her breasts. This time, when Aunty Blessing asked me to do it, I didn't see anything wrong because I’d taken her as my second mum. Anyway, I did this for a while and then she asked me to suck on them, that she would buy me my favorite sweets. I couldn't resist that offer. Minutes later, the bell rang - it was my parents. She quickly put on her clothes and told me not to mention a word of what had just happened to my parents or she’d withdraw her offer. My parents weren't exactly strict, but when it had to do with consumables, they had the final say, which included not being allowed to buy the sweets being sold around. So whenever I had the opportunity to get my hands on them, I treated them like gold. Aunty Blessing opened the door for them, and everybody went on with their business as if nothing had happened.

Days passed and there wasn't any unusual physical contact with Aunty Blessing. Then one night - exactly a week after the first incident, she came to my room, lay by my side and started touching my privates. I was asleep, but as soon as I was aware of what was going on, I woke up and tried to scream but she covered my mouth with her hand and told me to keep calm, that she wanted to play with me and teach me something interesting. She even promised to treat me to something nice the following day. It wasn't like I had a choice, as she was much older than me and was already on top of me - her weight had overpowered me.

She was wearing her nightie without underwear, so it was easy for her to slip out of it and wear it back immediately, should she have a reason to. She smiled as she took off my pajamas and I just lay there, speechless, without an inkling of what she was going to do to me. Then she started stroking my penis which she did for several minutes, asking if I was enjoying it. I nodded with approval. She lay on the bed and asked me to climb on her, asking me suck her breasts while she was fondled her vagina. After a while, she withdrew to her room and allowed me to sleep.

This went on at least twice every week for the next three years, until one day she fell sick, and after the family doctor did a check-up on her, it was discovered that she was pregnant and our neighbor was responsible for it. Mum was very distraught because her relationship with dad had hit the rocks, she was still trying to salvage the marriage and then the maid got pregnant. There wasn't much thinking to do, as she immediately paid her due allowance and asked her to move her things out of the house. Meanwhile, dad had already moved out of the house so it was just mum and I in the house.

This marked the beginning of a dark phase of my life

OBSESSION (PART 4))

2012-07-21T16:27:00.001-07:00

The whole thing came as a shock to me. I'd always known Halima to be a troublemaker who would go to any length to get what she wanted. This one, however, caught me off-guard. First, she made her way into my house without anybody’s knowledge - how she pulled this off still remains a mystery to me - and then she raped me, took nude pictures of me and wants to blackmail me with it.

“What have I gotten myself into?” I murmured to myself as I reclined my seat and buried myself in it. This is someone I loved, we dated, and despite the circumstances surrounding our break-up, I was considering getting back together with her. Here she was, trying to blackmail me. I went over the pictures again, and honestly, even if I intended denying anything, the birthmark on my neck would give me away.

Nigeria - or even Africa in general, isn't one of those places where nude pictures boost your social status, rather, you get berated and looked-down upon by whoever comes across them. Gloomy-faced, without the slightest notion on how to handle the issue, I decided to give her a call.

She didn't seem happy at all, as all she did was yell at me. I was already getting angry about it, but managed to hold on a bit. When she was done ranting, I apologized for everything she accused me of, which I think took her by surprise. She became calm and we continued talking. After going back and forth on it, we came to a consensus - she would come over to my house to spend the night so we could talk things out, after which she would destroy all the incriminating pictures she had in her possession.

She agreed, with a tone of excitement in her voice. I raced to the Restaurant as fast as I could, and on getting there, I felt some relief when I looked around and realized that Funmi was yet to arrive. I got a table for us and then ordered a glass of a Vodka-mix Cocktail to sip on, while waiting for her. She came in about ten minutes later and after exchanging pleasantries, we settled down. We talked about pretty much everything - except the past - which she refused to delve into, and I reasoned with her.

I managed to compose myself all through the evening, giving that I had a more tasking issue to deal with at night. The eagerness with which I looked forward to the date was the same as the one with which I hoped for it to end. It wasn't long before this became reality, and we were walking hand-in-hand out of the restaurant. I walked her to her car, and after a warm hug, we said our goodbyes.

Halima was already in my house - she had sent me a text message while I was with Funmi. As I drove home, I called Adamu to confirm, which he replied in the affirmative. It was a long drive home and I was very nervous about coming face-to-face with Halima, but “I'll take each stride as it comes”, I said to myself. I got home to a sumptuous-looking delicacy of Pounded Yam and Egusi soup, and despite my skepticism about eating it, I felt it looked too sweet to be poisoned. Adamu had already eaten and he didn't seem to have any complications, so I helped myself to some, and when I had fed well, I retired to the bedroom with Halima. We continued from where we stopped in our conversation earlier in the day to set things right. After all had been said, we had make-up sex (at least, this time it was voluntary).

She slept off almost immediately, and this gave me enough time to satisfy my curiosity. I picked her bag and took her phone to go through it, to make sure she did as expected. I noticed the pictures weren't in her Picture Library, but something else caught my attention. She had numerous pictures of a particular guy, wow! Curiously, I checked her BBM to see if she had him as a contact, and it wasn't long before a message came in, with his picture displayed. The message read: “I love you too baby”. I was stunned, to say the least. “What did I just see?”, I asked myself. I couldn't believe it. If she's in a romantic relationship with another guy, what then does she want from me?