Monthly Archives: February 2013
Twelve Years
2001…
I met you on a Friday, two days before your birthday. I was just coming back from lectures and I saw you selling Six Foot Plus’ tapes for a show later that week. You were with some other people at a photographer’s stand and you caught my eyes. You weren’t dashingly handsome like I would write in my stories but you stood out with your smile and my world stood still. I could have walked away but a force greater than both of us drew me near. And then you saw me and couldn’t stop staring. You said it was my lips that held you. I picked a tape (even though I already had one at the hostel), made small talk with you and handed you the cash to pay. You said you didn’t have any change and I told you to keep it and pay me some other time. I walked away and almost slapped myself for not fixing a date to see you again but for me, I was okay with that one moment.
But I saw you later that night. I was with my boyfriend whom I was going to dump the next night. He and I were both going to watch some movie at the SUG café as you walked by. I stopped and so did you and we spoke and parted. But I didn’t stay long with him, though. I left him with his friends and looked for you and found you buying a drink. You got me one too and we sat and talked like we had known each other before. You made me laugh that whole night until the wee hours of the morning and I still couldn’t get enough of you. We planned to meet later but God had better plans for us.
2002…
Life and its complications had parted us and we both had the stress of school on our shoulders. I saw you every now and then and we said hi when we knew we wouldn’t sound or look awkward. But I longed to steal a kiss or two…to remember how it felt, to have my heart beating at its regular rhythm again. Then one evening you saw me in school and dragged me away from class in your ususal unpredictable manner. We had dinner and you told me you didn’t like the guy I was with, that he wasn’rt treating me fine. I asked you if you could do better. You didn’t reply. As we walked back to your place, I asked you if people asked me what you were to me, what was I to tell them? You looked at me like I was stupid and said I should tell them you were my boyfriend. I laughed. It sounded odd to claim someone whom other girls were claiming. I refused you in my heart and was torn for it but with a wide grin, I accepted your proposal. We didn’t last two weeks but in that short period, I got you to say the L word and though you later said you never meant it, I knew I had stolen your heart.
2003…
I found you at the department, going through your lecture timetable for the semester. ASUU had just allowed us back in school after six months and many things had happened at that time. I had gotten closer to God, having lost my best friend and experienced a major heartbreak. You, on the other hand, had your own issues but we both had grown a lot. Now tired of the games, we were ready to fall in love again. I watched you for a while as you copied your timetable and then I snuck in behind you and covered your eyes. You didn’t know who it was but the moment you turned and saw me smiling back at you, you said it was a ‘Yay!’ moment. You thought you had lost me forever. That evening you dropped by and we walked to your place. NEPA had done their thing and we were alone in the dark, sharing stories from our lives, filling in the parts we both had missed from each other. You know how it feels when you are afloat, soaring in the wind with no weight to hold you down? That’s how I felt that evening and then in your unpredictable way, you kissed me without warning. And all the warm memories flooded in.
2004…
Foolish thing you did. You missed an exam! In your final year! I was mad at you but I told you it was okay and though you didn’t believe me, you took my word for it. Later, we would sit and talk about how God let it be so you could stay the next year with me. We began to make plans for our future together. You proposed. There was no ring and it was nothing romantic but I said yes. I wasn’t even serious about it but somehow I couldn’t forget the date. It stuck.
2005…
Rough year for me academically with Gwags and all its wahala but you were there for me up until the final moment. I remember nights when it was just you and I in the dark, talking about God knows what. It had always been like that for us and even till this day, we never get tired of talking. That year you took a beating for me too. All four of those bastards were upon you and all I could do was watch. They got what was coming to them later but I still will never forget that you were the only man who ever fought for me. Ah! My first script! You sat me down before my PC and made me type something out. I said I couldn’t write, you said I was a very good writer and didn’t know it. It was you who birthed me into the world I now call my life.
2006…
Here the drama began. I left home to be with you because yes, that’s what young lovers do. They love, they do silly things but sometimes those silly things bear good fruit. We had nothing but the assurance of our love. And we knew we were going to make it no matter how ridiculous it sounded at the time. We were stupid in love.
2007…
Things got bad for us. I was sick, spending most of my time at the hospital at the mercy of doctors. No one knew how bad it was, just you. You saw me at my worst and yet you stayed. Most guys would have left me but you didn’t. You held my hand all through, even as my ailment depleted you in every way. You never complained; you prayed ceaselessly and once I saw tears in your eyes. During the moments I was better, you made me write. It was you and I who sat and created my strongest characters. You taught me how to create a living, breathing world around them. You taught me how to write.
2008…
Our parents didn’t understand. The world around us didn’t get us. It seemed we were going to lose each other, tossed by the waves of opposition. But God held our hands and we did not fall. He made us strong to face the waves. We thought it was going to pass but it had just begun.
2009…
So this was how it felt to be all alone on your own. But we were now adults, we had come a long way, we had grown. You were positive the whole time. I came from a place where weakness was not allowed and where I was not permitted to fall. But you told me falling didn’t mean failure; it meant I was in a humble position to see what I wouldn’t have been privileged to see if I stood tall. Then you would hold my hand and pull me up with every encouraging word. Bit by bit you built in me a strong, confident woman. You made me believe in myself and all I could accomplish. You made me dream again. You made others dream too. They came to you to have you speak to them—to give them hope even when you were struggling with yours—young and old alike. They thought you wiser than your years. If only they saw you when you buried yourself in my arms and looked for strength.
2010…
Things were looking up. Dreams were beginning to come true but my sickness returned and I had to go through the surgeon’s knife again. I despaired, I wanted to give up. But you wouldn’t let me. In the end, I made it and you were there, waiting for me with that sunny smile. That day I knew everything was going to be fine. That day I knew I was never going to leave you.
2011…
We got married. We had our baby. But she was sick. More hard times. And you wouldn’t even let me feel it. You took it all on your back but God is not a sadist; He loves to see us smile and he was about to put an end to all the pain. At this point we were strong enough to ride on raging waves and were humble enough like Peter to say “Lord, save me!” when we were sinking. Finally, we had learnt the secret and we were beginning to see things turn around even when they were not. We had no idea what He had for us.
2012…
That was just last year. All day, I’ve been trying to remember one memorable moment and I haven’t been able to. Not because there wasn’t but because every moment was memorable. You had rewritten what love meant to me and I saw it through many different angles like the times when we would drink cheap wine and get high on it while we played Call of Duty, killing zombies and laughing our asses off like killing zombies was ever funny; or the times you would follow me shopping and form not being interested while you gathered enough aproko gist to fill my ears with later, or the way you started watching Fashion Police and made me a fan too. Then how can I forget how you would make me read out everything I wrote (lazy you), or the smile you wore every time you saw me coming from afar, or how you loved to hold me when you slept at night or your kisses before you left for work in the mornings, or the times when I had a long day out and returned home to a meal waiting for me… Aren’t you a dream, sweetie? I know I can be crazy at times and do things that would make a normal man beat me all the way from here to Egypt but you would look at me and smile and say “na you sabi.” Yeah, you just have your own thing going in your calm and collected manner and I’m loving your swag all the way.
2013…
Someone says I have the perfect man but I don’t think I do. You’re imperfect in every way but you’re the right man for me. I am glad I am alive to see another year with you. God couldn’t have made it any better.
I know you hate that I’m doing this because you like your privacy and all but baby, I am in love and I want to tell the whole wide world how I feel.
I LOVE YOU, OWEN and since the worst has not changed how I feel after all these years, then nothing but great things are coming our way.
Thanks for being there…
Thanks for loving me…
Thanks for making me a woman…
Thanks for making me a mother…
Thanks for showing me what love really is…
Thanks for bringing me closer to God…
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE.
Protected: Fish Brain Games (11) Amaka
The Other Woman
I am reposting this because some people complained that they couldn’t view it on their mobile browsers. For those of you who constantly have problems with your browsers, please download opera mini here. It is a lot better and doesn’t make you scroll from left to right because it makes your web pages fit into your screen. It also allows you open multiple windows at the same time, simplifying your browsing. I hope i get paid for this advert though.
Now to the story…
She took off her sweaty clothes. It had been a tiring and hectic day and the smell of endless work hours had to be shed away. She peeled down the zip of her dress and let the dress drop to the floor. She was standing beside the mirror and she turned towards it to get a complete once-over of her features. She smiled at her full curves. Surely, the missus didn’t possess the confidence that always drew him to her. She ran her hands over her shoulders gracefully and made her fingers brush against each other as they met in-between her full breasts. Without her helping it, her cheeks flushed and her mind wandered away, evoking his presence, as her own hands became the vessel with which his hands caressed her…
Her phone rang and she was pulled back to the bedroom. Their bedroom. Their love nest. She stumbled towards the bed and fell on it as she took his call.
“Hey, stranger,” she cooed.
“I’m on my way. I hope you have food. I’m starving.”
“I’ve got all sorts of things to satisfy you, baby.”
“I know. Just keep it all warm and nice.”
She giggled as he rung off. Quickly, she got off the bed and picked her dirty dress off the floor whilst taking off her underwear. She rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The water was warm and caressing and even after she soaped herself, she waited, letting the water pour over her body tenderly. It touched every crevice his fingers would stroke and she fought her mind from wandering too much.
A few more minutes and she was done. She wrapped up in a towel and walked back into the bedroom.
She took her time with everything she did, making gentle strokes on her body as she sat before the mirror. It was important that she enjoyed the ordinary act of grooming herself because it prepared her psychologically and physically for him. Spread out on the bed was her new pair of black, venomous unmentionables. She grabbed them and slid into them quickly as she heard his car in the driveway. Afterward, she straightened out the bed, perfumed it a little and dashed out to welcome him.
“Hi baby!” She flung open the front door and stood there, an image of sizzling sexiness. He was silent for a few seconds, his voice lost. She giggled as she noticed his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down after each swallow.
“I must have died and gone to heaven,” he scarcely whispered and she drew him in, pulling at his tie. The door closed behind them and she pushed him to it as she ravaged his lips with a hungry kiss that had him dropping his laptop bag to the floor. It was instant, his desire, and she felt it rise to meet hers but she moved away from him and led him to the dining area.
“Hungry, you said?” she asked and he stared at the empty table, puzzled. “Starving was the word you used.”
She lightly put a barefoot over one of the chairs and in one smooth movement, hoisted herself off the floor and onto the table where she spread out and beckoned to him with her forefinger.
Not hesitating a second, he hurried over, discarding his shoes, tie, his shirt, his pants. She laughed at how fast the items fell off his body, leaving him in only his socks and boxers. He covered her with kisses from her lips down to her navel and somewhere at that point, she almost lost her mind.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The woman tilted her head backwards, took the last swig of wine straight from the bottle and when he wasn’t concentrating poured it into his mouth straight from hers. He swallowed unwillingly with a hidden smile and a weak frown while she laughed heartily.
“I’m exhausted,” he said, looking at the empty plates of food littered on the floor of the bedroom. “And it’s late. I have work tomorrow.”
She pouted. “Don’t let this end nau.”
He sat up. “You’ve done me in, baby, and as much as I want more of you, I have to face the truth that you’re not always going to be here. My wife will be back and…”
Tears filled her eyes instantly. “Why can’t we do this all the time, baby?”
“Because it’s not possible. I know how much it took for you to do this and I appreciated and enjoyed every moment of it. Look at me, I can’t even move. Don’t get me wrong, I want this every single day but you and I know it’s not likely.” He finished with a yawn.
“See, you’re sleepy. Why don’t you just come and doze it off in my arms, handsome?”
“I have work…”
“Shhh…” She pulled him to her and he burrowed himself in her embrace and before she could utter any more words, he was snoring away. She smiled. He was all hers for that moment, even if things were going back to normal the next morning, he was hers for that night.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
She woke to blinding sunlight coming in from the window and she frowned, tasting the staleness of food and wine on her tongue. Muttering to herself, she turned away from the light and to the other side of the bed where he was supposed to be lying. But it was empty.
She opened her eyes, hoping he would sort of magically appear but all she saw was rumpled sheets and a torn condom foil. She smiled at the memory of the previous night but it was a little smile that didn’t even lift her cheeks. It was all over as it began. Valentine’s was gone and so was the love affair. Normalcy was going to return and the reality of her situation was going to hit in a few minutes.
She got off the bed, slipped into something silky and decent that had a pocket where she buried her phone; she made her way out of the bedroom. Immediately, the smell of fried eggs hit her nose. He was still around! She smiled, this time her cheeks lifted and flushed. Maybe Valentine’s was not over. She hurried into the kitchen and found him fully dressed, fixing breakfast. He was fumbling with the frying spoon over burning eggs as she walked towards him.
“You’re not gone?” she asked.
“I’m starving.”
She raised a naughty brow and he shook his head. “Not for that.”
“Just one more,” she pleaded as she put her hands round him.
“No. Work calls.” He turned to kiss her thin lips that he knew could surprisingly work magic.
“Let me help you with that,” she offered, taking over the cooking. “Go and wait at the table or better still hold me from behind.”
He laughed. “You are a temptress. And I love you.”
“But I’m not the one you married. You married a boring, lackluster woman.”
“Hey, careful with the way you talk about my wife.” He smiled, smacked her bum and walked out of the kitchen. Minutes later, she appeared at the dining area with a tray of toast, unburnt scrambled eggs, a mug of hot chocolate for her and coffee for him. They ate in silence not because it was their thing but because she was busy trying to seduce him and he was busy trying to remain focused on his breakfast. Finally, with just two little gulps of coffee left, he pushed his mug away, lifted her off her chair and placed her on the table. As he proceeded to kiss her, the front door burst open and four individuals walked in. One of them, a woman of about thirty-something and the other three were children, the oldest being about ten years old.
The other woman who was sitting on the table jumped down instantly and straightened the silky thing she was wearing.
The thirty-something year old woman eyed the couple sourly.
“What is going on?”
The man opened his mouth to say something but the littlest of the children, an adorable three year old with patchy hair ran towards him.
“Daddy!”
The man lifted his daughter in his arms and twirled her around.
“How are you, sweetheart?”
“Fine!”
“Give me a kiss.”
The little girl planted one on his nose.
“Oya, go to your mommy.” He handed the girl to the woman beside him, adding in a whisper. “Holiday is over and so is your little fantasy. Bring my wife back.”
She giggled and turned to her sister who was standing at the door with a frown on her face.
“You were supposed to come and take them to school,” the sister said.
The woman looked at her other children, a boy and a girl that looked exactly like their father.
“I’m sorry, sis. They have this repainting thing they’re doing in their school, so no classes. Didn’t Junior tell you?”
“No,” the sister replied and the woman shook her head at her first son who was consuming what was left of his father’s breakfast.
“Sorry.”
The woman walked to the kitchen with her sister in tow.
“What were you two doing?” The sister asked and the woman laughed, putting down her lastborn.
“Nothing. Just having the bottom pot of our val’s night. Scrapings.”
“Yeye people. Anyway, nobody needs it like you. Your offspring are a handful. Don’t ever drop them at my place again. See, let me run to work. Later.”
“Thanks, sis.”
The sister said her goodbye and left the family alone.
“Mommy!” the ten year old boy ran into the kitchen, almost knocking his younger sister to the floor. “Can I have biscuit?”
“No, Junior.” The woman frowned but noticed his hand already going for a biscuit jar on the fridge.
Hmmm…boys, they grow so tall these days, she thought and filled the hot water kettle with cold water from the tap. As she made a mental note to hide the biscuit jar somewhere higher next time, she heard a loud crashing sound on the floor and to her horror she discovered Junior had knocked down the jar and succeeded in injuring his sister in the process. There was a piercing scream from the three year old and the woman almost screamed out herself.
“Great! I have to call in sick at work today,” she grumbled and looked to her husband for help but he was already going out the door.
“Mommy, I want to eat egg! Junior haff finish all the egg!” Her five year old daughter who was standing on the dining table called her attention.
“Get down from that place before I get there and smack you!”
At that moment her phone beeped and she pulled it out of silky thing’s pocket. It was a text from her husband.
I lied about wanting my wife back. Is there any chance that the Valentine’s holiday can be extended to this night?
She laughed and somehow in the midst of the chaos, while cleaning the scratches on her three year old’s arms and screaming at her five year old, she was able to type the following:
Sorry, player. It’s back to business as usual. Valentine’s only a day.
© Sally
Related:
THOUGHTS ON “FOR DAYS AND A NIGHT”
My initial thought when I saw the title For Days and a Night was that it was going to have a theme of horror but there I was judging a book by its cover. Someone remind me to never do it again. Nonetheless, that is what Seun does to you when you begin to read this beautiful fifty-four paged work of his artistic brilliance. You start the book thinking you know what to expect and where it is leading but somewhere (not far into the pages) you stop and realize that it takes a different type of concentration to understand where he’s coming from. Now this is not to say the work is vague in any way. No, it’s just poles apart from the normal thing you have probably read. What he does is that he makes thoughts come alive and aloud as you read, that you begin to feel you’re actually in his characters’ heads. He is not quixotic or stimulating in his lines, not weaving a fantastic emotional tale aimed at stirring your feelings or whatever; he just makes you think without leaving the headache that some writers aim to achieve when they weave complex words to impress themselves. I have read other works of his and I know he is capable of being a master of rich vocabulary and expressions but the For Days and a Night is a simple work, yet of genius.
The book is a collection of short stories and skits with graphics that browse through different subject matters like love, loneliness, loss, fear and infidelity. Seun shows you that as a writer you don’t have to flog a theme for you to put your point across. And he is a master at this. A few lines, a short parody and his message is sent.
For example, in one of my favorites, A GAME CALLED LIFE, he tackles the issue of infidelity in marriage when he goes into the mind of the MC to reveal the guy’s plans to be unfaithful to his wife even as he stands before the altar on his wedding day. In the end, I came to realize that most of the people who cheat in marriage do so because they believe it’s one of the things they are allowed to do in life like go shopping or have a bath or cook a meal. When the train comes, they ask no questions and just hop on it because that is life. Now, I wouldn’t have seen it that way had Seun not opened my eyes.
Another piece I absolutely adore is WAKEN. Maybe it’s my love for dark stories that makes me put this as my number one in the whole book but I love it because he really scares me with this one. He takes me right there into the room with the terrified MC and I’m thinking has this ever happened before? If I were in the guy’s shoes, what will I do if a loved one returned from the dead? You have to read the story to know what I’m talking about.
And there’s PAUSE. A sad love story about two people who loved each other but never got together because of pride and the normal wahala that follow two people in love. Don’t ask me what that is. But I really loved that story.
I could go on but I’ll leave you to download the e-book and read it all for yourself here.
My only criticism with this particular work would be that I felt the book could have accommodated more stories. The end seemed like the…end. And though I know it’s not so, it gave the appearance of running out of juice. I wished there had been more there, maybe something that rounds it all up. I felt I was left hanging. Maybe I was too much of a fan and loved it too much and wanted more 🙂
All the same, it’s a beautiful read. And because tomorrow is the big V day, I’ll be leaving a love story from Seun himself, something from the book. It’s called Pillow Talk.
PILLOW TALK
I’m kissing her. She seems to be having a crisis of conscience; struggling with herself on how far she should allow me go. Her back is tense; I feel the tautness of her spine with the tips of my fingers. She struggles a bit more – and then her lips open under mine, surrendering to the gentle probing of my tongue.
She shivers.
I do not remember where I met her or how. I do not remember what her name is – and to be honest; I really do not care. All I know is she feels really good in my arms and I am determined to take it the whole nine yards if I’m allowed to.
Did I just say allowed to?
I lied. I am determined to take it all the way whether she wants it or not.
It’s as though she can hear me – hear my thoughts. She shivers.
It is pretty obvious that she wants it however. She does not utter a word in complaint despite all the liberties I take – I have been taking. Actually, she does not make a sound. But her body speaks volumes.
You should have seen the way she shuddered the first time I put my mouth around her earlobe. I do it again – but this time I linger around the nub of it; taking my time and savoring the salty-sweet taste of her skin. She flinches and grips me tighter.
Ah. I like that. I enjoy it.
Remember what I said about her body speaking volumes? She anticipates my moves; meeting me at every junction, every twist and turn of my head. This woman enjoys kissing – just as much as I do.
Not to divert or distract, but I consider kissing a sport. I believe it should be pursued with ardent focus and dedication. I strongly believe it should be enjoyed in and for itself; not primarily as a means to an end. There’s something about kissing…
Our tongues play a small tango – hers is warm and soft at once; and tastes curiously salty. I don’t mind; she’s a pro at this game. The way our tongues are in harmony reminds me of scenes in martial art flicks where the good guy; probably Jet Li or Jackie Chan faces off with another bad guy and they’re going through the obviously-choreographed fight sequence – fist, block, chop, side-step…almost like a one-two one-two thingy. I lightly bite the tip of her tongue.
She shivers
I lightly trace her jawline…touch it with the tips of my fingers. I have this theory that it helps relax tension – almost as much as a neck and shoulders massage. It’s something I created myself – but I have been proven right time and time again. Now is no exception. She wilts in my arms, her body posture suggesting to me to do as I please.
Oh, but I intend to my dear.
You see – I can’t help these things. I told you I’m a pro.
Suddenly we accidentally bump teeth. I break off the kiss and laugh – and then she impatiently shoves her lips back against mine. Oh; I think, in a hurry are we? I tease her a bit – acting as if I’m about to break the kiss off and then meeting her as her lips chase mine. Again, we resume sparring.
She shivers.
And goes limp. At this point I somehow realize that; even though I’m not looking, I realize that somehow her blouse is off and I feel the straps of her bra better than I did some moments ago. It feels ductile – in fact her entire chest area feels really ductile. But I don’t want to go there. Not just yet.
My hands become restless as the moment intensifies, looking for something to do with themselves. They have become intimately familiar with the planes of her back, from her confusingly soft collarbone to the pliant straps of her bra. Now they wander up and down her sides, and she; without breaking off the kiss grabs them and impatiently places them on her breasts.
She shivers.
Deftly; slickly as though programmed, my hands do what I am yet to order them to – treat the soft mounds on her chest to an indulgent massage. I plant soft kisses on the left side of her neck, moving gently down to bath the base of her throat with a flurry of light busses. Continuing down between her breasts unobstructed by a blouse – a blouse my hands seemed to have so deftly unbuttoned moments before; I lap my tongue up and down the valley between her breasts.
She shivers.
By now my hands have moved down to cup her waist and here they pause – finally I’m able to get through to them.Slow down, I say; we do not want her freaking out now. Crazy hands. They listen – and then they ignore me, moving downwards to where what we both assume her behind to be. Assume to be is the correct thing to ‘say’, because to our consternation; that is my hands and me, there is absolutely nothing below her waist.
Lobatan.
I open my eyes and all is as it should be. I am laying on my bed with my arms around a woman – and suddenly all is not as should be. My mouth is full, in fact my mouth feels as though I had been chewing on one of those half-done shaki meats that most bukas specialize in serving – that piece of meat you can never chew successfully and you eventually end up swallowing whole. My throat hurts.
I open my eyes again and find out that a third of my pillow is what it is in my mouth. The slightly disgusting stench of early-morning saliva is heavy around us, and I can see streaks of it lining the body of my pillow. It is looking at me silently; expression saying is this what you have come to, o pathetic divorcee? Na so your life don be?
I shiver.
Seun Odukoya is the winner of the 2011 Chistell International Short Story competition. He fell in love
with words at a very tender age, thanks to parents who fed him novels and poetry books, which led to
his discovery of the use of writing to best express himself.
He is currently working on a full-length romance novel alongside other short stories. He released his
first book, a short story collection titled For Days and A Night (ebook) in December 2012. Some of
his greatest writing influences are Stephen King and Louis L’amour amongst a host of others.
When he is not writing, he enjoys reading, watching movies and listening to music.
You can catch up with Seun and his writings at http://www.seunodukoya.wordpress.com; You can also
follow him on twitter @seunodukoya.
The Immortals’ Code
One who contends with immortals lives a very short life
Greek poet 9th-8th century BC
COMING SOON!
Moskeda Lounge 