Tag Archives: honey

8 Things I don’t Know About It’s Another Saturday

I might be the writer of It’s Another Saturday but it’s becoming clear to me that there are things I don’t know about the series.

  1. Dele’s Wife’s Real Name

Seriously, I don’t know her name. She met Honey in uni and they have been friends since then but unfortunately, all I can tell you about her is that she is Dele’s wife.

2. The Town They Live In

One might argue that the story takes place in Lagos, being that Genesis from Novocaine Knights who lives in Lagos, made a cameo appearance. However, nothing else has been mentioned about the name of the city. So, go ahead, call it Abuja, Kano, Ado-Ekiti; I don’t mind.

3. If Jideofor’s Bridemaker Phenomenon is Psychological, Spiritual or Just Plain Coincidence

Tarela feels she did something diabolical to him that plunged him into reckless trysts with several women but what if it’s just simple psychology, that he gets attracted to women who are desperate to tie the knot or already hooked and waiting to walk down the aisle? The details of that moment in his life have not been given or we would have a clearer picture. Or perhaps it’s just plain coincidence that he sleeps with a chick and she ends up marrying someone else. What are the odds?

4. If Honey Was Really On Her Period

She says she likes babies but she asks for unprotected sex and comes up the next morning to say she’s on the rag. Is she trying to trap Jide into a commitment or her time of the month really came? Remember she also told Mary she does not believe in having kids immediately after marriage. Well, the truth will unfold eventually.

5. If Honey’s Siblings Are Out Of The Picture

It would be nice to see how things are going with those ones, how they react to discovering that the documents are missing.

6.  Kate

I seriously know nothing about her other than she is pregnant and younger. Hopefully the muse will be kind enough to show me more.

7. What Is Wrong With Peace

I tire for the babe. Defending a man that raped your friend. Smh. Her character makes me sad because she’s as real as so many Nigerian women get. Actually, her story exposes what many women suffer in the hands of their men in this country and yet refuse to seek for better lives for themselves. The need to bear a man’s name and to be called wives supersedes their happiness, peace, dignity and sanity. I do hope Peace finds her way in the end.

8. When I’ll Post The Next Episode.

Like seriously, I don’t know…

Just kidding!

Come back next Saturday. My week was busy and terrible. Was only able to write down a thousand or so words. I want to sleep, refresh, deal with a threatening fever and then come back. I also need to reply all your comments. If you noticed, I’m far behind and I feel really bad about it.

So, have a wonderful weekend and later on, I’ll put up excerpts from Boys With Toys. 😉

 

It’s Another Saturday…#15

LeChase Hotel

erotica

Your hands on my hips pull me right back to you
I catch that thrust, give it right back to you
You’re in so deep, I’m breathing for you
You grab my braids, arch my back high for you

You’re diesel engine, I’m squirting mad oil
Down on the floor ’til my speaker starts to boil
I flip shit, quick slip, hip dip and I’m twisted
In your hands and your lips and your tongue tricks
And you’re so thick and you’re so thick and you’re so…

Crown royal on ice, crown royal on ice
Crown royal on ice, crown royal on ice

“Ooooh… Jill Scott.”

“Jill Scot? Are you for real? How about ‘ooooh…Jide’?”

I laugh, even though I so badly want to cry. I so badly want to scream out his name and wake the entire neighborhood.

It’s 5am and Jide and I have been at this since 3am. I’m not even counting the one we did when I arrived around 1am. We just can’t seem to get our hands off each other. The things he does to me…the different ways he makes me feel. And with Jill Scott, queen of aural sex, setting the mood, there’s no better way to start the day.

I feel a tremor erupt from the center of me, and it begins to spread to every part of my body. I bite the pillow my head is buried in but it’s not enough to keep me from crying out. Goosebumps, moist eyes, curled toes… Inside, I clench him real tightly as I go off. I’m having a huge one that is coming in spurts and going on for what seems like forever until I can’t seem to feel myself anymore.

I blank out for a few and he turns me around, peering into my face. I can’t see him. He tries to touch me but I press my legs together securely. I can’t take any more. The guy’s pipe laying skills are on fleek abeg, kudos to his bride-making experience. I won’t lie; I’m dickmatized right now. Or give me a better explanation why he and I are not in a heated fight at the moment after I have stumbled upon the text from his ex, Ezinne.

Okay, maybe ‘stumbled’ is the wrong word, considering that I paid some good money for an app that can help me easily spy on Jide’s phone and online activities from his text messages to call logs, to every single social media interaction, to photos and videos and even his browsing history. So, clearly, I got Ezinne’s text when it came in yesterday evening and I knew he called her not long after. This discovery had left me upset and I came with the full intent to bring it up but two things prevailed. One was the fact that I didn’t want him to think I was this insecure, possessive girlfriend that had no respect for his privacy. Then the second reason, as I already mentioned, is the D. It is boss. My ebony love tool.  The way it commands respect gets me tongue-tied and on my knees every time. If I hadn’t fallen in love before I had it, I would swear it’s the only thing keeping me sprung.

Not to trivialize what we share, I’ll state it clearly again that I love Jide. And I want us to work. That is why I will say nothing and hope that he doesn’t go to see Ezinne; but if he must, I hope he tells me.

Please Jide, don’t lie to me.

I feel his body heat as he cradles me. The hair on his skin is such a turn on that I fear we’ll start all over again. I’ve always had this high level of eroticism just below the surface. Saratu constantly asks me why I hide it. And I’ll often tell her only one man can bring out the freak in me. Before Jide, all others, including Kene and Nonso tried but they fell short. Jide is oga. No contest.

I climb over him now and look into those calm eyes.

“I thought you just passed out,” he says.

I shut his mouth with a kiss that sends a direct message to his midsection.

“You’re a nympho,” he says into my ear. We begin all over again.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

“Madam, I know you’re tired but this baby has to come out like yesterday. I can see the head. All I need is one push from you to make it happen.”

The soon-to-be mom before me nods dispassionately. Her face is washed with tears. She has been in labor for quite a long time.

“Okay, now push.”

She screams out, clenches her feet, grips the bedsheet beneath her with her fists and gives it a big shove, sending a girl into the world. The baby comes out protesting in a very angry cry.

“And there you go. Your beautiful baby girl!” I announce. After two days of labor, her bundle of joy has finally arrived. As is in my practice, I place baby on her mother’s chest for warmth and instant bonding but the mother, whom I’ll call Mrs. B, makes a face and tells me to take the child away.

This is not a strange occurrence. In my experience as midwife, I’ve encountered women who want little to do with their newborns immediately after birth, especially when they have endured so much. All the same, as professionals, we have to investigate further to know if it is due to sheer exhaustion or something deeper.

I go through the afterbirth process I’ve been through a million times and during the course, I watch my client’s passive face as she observes the room around her like one not there. When baby is all wrapped up, I help the woman up on her feet and ask the junior midwife who has accompanied me to help bathe her.

“I can do it myself,” she replies with an angry tone. “I just gave birth to a human being, not a mountain.”

She waddles off to her bathroom. I tell the midwife to clean the room as I take baby out to meet her father and other family members who are waiting. They cheer when I step out of the bedroom. The father rushes to me and picks his fourth child in his arms. He has done this three times already with his late wife but his eyes go moist at the sight of his first daughter. Family members surround the baby and everyone has something to say about her pretty face. I stand by and watch them, merely nodding each time one of them thanks me.

After what seems like forever, the man walks to me and asks if he can see his wife. I shake my head.

“Not now. Give her some time.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, everything went well.”

He thanks me and I turn back into the bedroom. Mrs. B is all cleaned up now and lying on her bed, her face to the wall. I turn to one corner of the room where Honey is seated. She had begged to accompany when I told her I had to work. I acceded to her wish and here she sits, traumatized by what she has just witnessed. I try not to laugh.

“Madam.” I sit on the bed to face my client. “Don’t you want to see your baby?”

“Not now, Jide.”

“Talk to me.”

“She should have been a boy.”

“Ah,” is all I can say. In my experience, this is also not new. In fact, I have seen it countless times. The male child always trumps the female.

She sits up slowly. I arrange pillows and help her rest her back on them.

“I’ve been trying to conceive for three years. Three years of miscarriages, one stillbirth and non-stop persecution from my husband’s family. Finally I take in and it’s a girl? His late wife had three boys for him. Three healthy boys. Do I need to tell you what this means? Where it all leaves me?”

“It leaves you with a beautiful, healthy little girl who is the light of her father’s eyes. Today is a good day, madam. Your baby whom you carried for nine months is finally here. Can you just put aside everything else and welcome her?”

“You can go, Jide. Thank you for everything. I just want to be alone. Please, go.”

I stand up. “My colleague will be sleeping over, so anything you need, ask her.”

She nods. I walk to Honey and take her hand and find it cold. Dazedly, she follows me out of the room. The family is still fussing over the newborn as the father escorts us outside and thanks me once more for my services.

In the cab, on our way home, I try to make conversation.

“Some women baffle me, honestly. People are looking for children and God gave you one and you’re not happy because it’s a girl. I felt like shaking her back to her senses as she was talking all that nonsense.”

Honey remains silent. I look at her and snap a finger in her face. She blinks back to life.

“Are you still shaken by the whole childbirth experience?”

“Shaken?” she looks at me. “I’m in awe.”

“Awe?”

“It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, hotstuff. The way her vagina stretched and that baby came out. It was… Wow!”

I look at my girlfriend with careful eyes. She seems to get weirder by the second. Every single girl I have taken to watch the birthing of a baby left the place traumatized, some swearing never to get pregnant.

“Jide, can we have a baby?” Honey gives me puppy eyes and holds my hands. “Please?”

“No.”

“Okay, even if you don’t want to be responsible for it, just put it in me.”

I laugh. I’m not taking her serious. She likes to play like that.

“No.”

“I’ve quit my job now and I’m about to start my own business. I have all the time in the world for a baby. All I need is a baby daddy.”

“And you came up with all of this just after watching another woman give birth?”

“No, I love babies. They’re so cute.”

“Erm…they are not.”

Honey leaves her spot on the seat and sits astride me. The cabman glares at us through the rearview mirror. He doesn’t seem pleased with the action but I ignore him.  She doesn’t kiss me; she just rests her head on my shoulder and using carefully chosen words, whispers how much she loves me, adding that I shouldn’t do anything to break her heart.

“Is there anything you’re hiding from me?” she asks, leaning back to look into my eyes.

My tummy tosses – loudly – as I recall that in the next hour I will be with Ezinne.

“What type of question is this one, Hon?”

“Just asking.”

“You were talking about babies one minute and now you’re questioning my devotion to you? Just out of nowhere?”

“I’m supposed to keep a special time for asking you that type of question?”

“How about never asking me at all and just trusting me?”

She lifts herself off my laps and takes her seat again.

“How long are you going to be at the hospital?” she questions.

“My rounds start by eight. I’ll be there till let’s say, ten-ish.”

“Can I go with you?”

“Honey, for heaven’s sake, what is up with you this evening?”

“Sorry I asked to spend more time with my man.”

She gives me a look I can’t decipher. It is not a good look. It makes me uncomfortable and almost forces me to assure her that I’m faithful to her. But I refrain. I’m not going to be bullied by her insecure ways.

“You need to deal with your trust issues or it will ruin us,” I say thoughtlessly.

“Okay.”

We remain silent until the cab stops outside my gate. I lean towards her to give her a kiss before she steps out but realize there are tears on her face. She pushes me away and alights from the car. I’m a little baffled by her behavior but I’m beginning to get used to being shocked by her impulsiveness.

“Le Chase Hotel,” I say to the cabman the moment she disappears into the compound. He complains about hitting some traffic along the way. I tell him I am fine with it. We hit the road.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

It’s exactly eight o’clock when reception rings Room 219.

“You can go up, sir,” the receptionist informs me and I turn to a flight of stairs, ignoring the elevator she shows me. I take slow steps because I want to still my wildly-thumping heart. I can’t believe I’m going to see Ezinne. I’m nervous; I don’t know what I’ll find when I walk into that room.

I’m standing at the door now. I knock and wait…

“Come in, Jide,” I hear her say. I steady my hand that has begun to shake and force it to open the door.

bed

I walk in. And there is Ezinne, or some altered version of her, lying on the bed like she and I are still an item and I’ve come for a booty call. She turns and regards me with eyes that have haunted my sleep for years.

I can’t speak, so I stare back. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a white spaghetti top. Her weave is long and falls over her shoulders and back. And then I dare to take in her strange face which carries a nose perfectly sculpted and lips that are fuller than I used to know. This Ezinne has lost the beauty I once was crazy about. But she still holds some part of my heart which is stirring at the moment.

“Hi, Jide.”

I say nothing. She leaves the bed.

“I said I’ll hold my emotions when I see you but I just can’t.” She rushes into my arms, and starts to cry. And I’m not talking about that sniveling that ladies do when they want attention. No, Ezinne is weeping intensely. I have no option but to console her, and as they say, before I know it, we’re kissing each other crazy. I get lost for a moment, as our past is recalled and I fall back to the time I loved her and could have given my life for her.

The kiss gets intense and my hands begin to move beyond her waist because Ezinne still has this hold over me that she used to have back then. It’s even stronger now and I can think of nothing else but her. She’s unbuttoning my shirt and kissing my ear when Honey makes an appearance in my mind without caution. As if being slapped, I return to my senses and pull away.

“I have a girlfriend, Ezinne,” I tell her with a broken voice, removing her hands from my neck.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“No. You can’t just disappear from my life, fake your own death and think you can get back by offering me the sex you starved me of back in the day.”

My words bring back her commonsense.

“God! What am I thinking?” she asks herself as I give her some distance. “What just happened here?” She straightens her top. “Jide, I’m so sorry. Very sorry. Please, forgive me for all I did to you. I’m sorry.”

“I came here for the truth. That’s all I’m here for.”

“Sit.” She points at the bed.

“I don’t want to sit.”

“Please.”

“I said no,” I reply edgily.

“Can I get you something then?”

I hear her but I’m distracted because I’m still staring at her. She has added some weight. And her skin tone is lighter; she used to have this dark, glowing complexion.

“Jide?”

“No, I’m good.”

She picks the only chair in the room and sits.

“Why?” I ask, straightaway. “How could you fake your own death, Ezinne? Why would you do such a wicked thing?”

She scratches a brow.

“Answer me.”

She looks at me. “The accident almost killed me.”

“Me too. But I didn’t go faking my death.”

“I was scarred beyond recognition, Jide. Did anyone tell you that?”

No one told me anything. In fact, no one knew her whereabouts after the accident.

“Of course, they didn’t tell you because none of them cared about how I was faring, if I had died or lived. The only person that asked after me was Bobby but he didn’t even have the courtesy to come see me. My parents went to see your parents to ask for financial assistance for reconstructive surgery to replace parts of my skull that had been damaged and your parents turned them away. In fact, your mother blamed the accident on me and threatened that if you died in your coma, she would make our lives miserable.”

My initial anger begins to lose edge. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. But I don’t hold it against them, Jay. I was a bitch to everyone.”

Yeah, she was, especially during a particular incident when she was rude to my mom over some minor issue or the time she walked out on my friends at one of Celia’s home parties just because they asked if she truly loved me.

“The accident scarred me, Jide. Badly. Half my nose and lips were disfigured beyond recognition. My neck, my jaw, one side of my head, all damaged. I looked like a corpse.”

She passed her phone to me.

“Viewer discretion is advised.”

I take the phone and the first photo I see on the screen makes my skin crawl. I can’t look any further. Forget my medical training, there are certain things the eyes are not supposed to see. I pass the phone back to her.

“And then I had to endure the drugs, injections, the wound-dressing, every single day. I wanted to kill myself, Jay. But for God, and my mom’s prayers I would have gone. She prayed for me constantly and would sing hymns to cheer me. That was the only way I survived. But I was still struggling with loving myself the way I was. You remember how I used to be about my looks?”

She was a Barbie back then. Couldn’t stand a scratch on her body, cared for her skin with the most expensive of products, and was vain like no man’s business. I can’t imagine the horror she went through after waking up and finding she had turned to Frankenstein’s bride.

“My parents were running around, looking for money for my hospital bills. My dad sold all his land in the village, my mom sold everything in her shop and yet the money pooled together couldn’t go halfway. Then one quiet morning, Kalu visited and signed a check that left us dazed. The money covered my bills and there was extra, which he asked me to use to fix myself up.”

I’m stunned by the direction the story has taken. “Kalu? My brother?”

“Yes. The only thing he asked of me was to stay away from you. He didn’t force me, he didn’t threaten. He begged.”

I am not shocked that Kalu would go out of his way to do such a thing. He is generous to a fault. However, I’m not sure what his motive was.

“And so we paid the bills and left. Someone gave me the contact of a plastic surgeon in Seoul. They said he was really good but affordable. I got in touch with him without my parents’ knowledge and he agreed to handle my case. Three nights before I left, I came to see you to say goodbye. Luckily for me, your mom wasn’t there and the nurse was super nice so she let me in.”

“Wait…you wore something yellow and had this veil around your head?”

“Yes.”

“You prayed for me?”

“Yeah.”

Oh God. She was the lady in the yellow dress. How didn’t I recognize her?

“I used the veil to cover the part of my face that was still bandaged. I knew our chapter had ended, Jide, which was why I was there to say goodbye that night. I didn’t want to come back here. And I knew that by the time the doctor finished his work on me, I’d be changed, and so I sat with my parents and begged them to allow me fake my death. They kicked against it but I went ahead with the plans and without informing them, disappeared to Seoul. It was after my plane landed that I called them and told them I wasn’t coming back. But I still contacted them every now and then, asking after you. I was informed of when you got better and came to look for me and they had to lie to you that I was dead.”

“Well, it wasn’t hard for them. They always hated me.”

“That’s because your family wouldn’t let me be with you. But that’s all water under bridge now, Jide. How have you been?”

“That’s all water under bridge? You disappear from my life and think you can shove it off like that?”

“I had to do what I had to do, Jide! Our relationship the entire time was on pins and needles. Your family hated me. My family hated you. Friends didn’t support us being together. My career was shit, with musicians and directors trying to sleep with me all the time… in fact, I had nothing I was proud of! And then my looks were taken away from me! Was I to stay back and struggle with all of that just because I wanted to be married to an Onuora?!”

“How about what you felt for me?”

“It was not enough, Jide! It was not! I cried the day we collected the money from Kalu. I was grateful but I felt helpless. I lost my place in your life that day because of that money. And so I had to leave. But I still loved you.”

“Not that it matters now.”

“Yeah.” Her tone lowers. “I’m married.”

I laugh. It is a harsh laugh that tries to mask the pain in my heart.

“He’s Korean. We live in Seoul. He’s a banker…”

“I don’t give a fuck what he does or who he is, Ezinne! You’re so heartless! And you came here acting like you still love me when you already found a life, ehn?! What’s this meeting all about? You want to cheat on your husband?”

“God! No. I just wanted you to know the truth.”

“Which I wouldn’t have known if I had not bumped into you.”

“But how did you know I was still alive, Jide? My parents told me you’ve been calling relatives. How did you know?”

“Because I love you, Ezinne! How can’t you still see that? I love you! I have felt you aura all these years! I just couldn’t mourn you. And to think you were doing just fine…”

“It’s not like that.”

“Your disappearance turned me into a man I’ll forever regret!”

“I’m sorry.”

“So you came back for what exactly?!”

“I’m pursuing my MBA there in Seoul. I came back to get my transcript and some other documents…”

“You didn’t come to see me.”

“Jide…” She moves towards me but I step back.

“Don’t let me hate you, Ezinne. I’m very close to getting there. I wish I hadn’t bumped into you. In short, I wish I never even met you in my life. You’re dead to me this time and that my phone number you got from God-knows-where, lose it!”

I march to the door, open it and march out. It’s barely half past seven when I leave the hotel and head back home. I am mad and relieved at the same time. Mad at Ezinne, of course. And relieved that the truth is finally out and I can put the whole saga to rest. In fact, I won’t share this encounter with anyone because of the humiliation I’m feeling right now. I will let them all believe that they were right about her being dead and buried. I just feel bad that I’ll have to lie to Honey as well. But first I need to confirm with Kalu what I just heard.

I dial his UK line. Elsie answers. We talk for some time before she passes the phone to him.

“How much did you give Ezinne?”

Kalu hesitates. “So you found out.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because I felt them popsi acted unfairly towards her family. It was not her fault that accident happened. And she needed the help, so I helped her.”

I don’t know what to say after he speaks, whether to scold him for asking her to stay away from me or thank him for the help he offered. I choose the latter.

“Don’t mention. But how did you find out?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“She’s fine, though?”

“I don’t know,” I lie.

“Okay.”

I have nothing else to tell him, so I hang up. I focus my mind on Honey as I head home. I feel contrite for the way I treated her earlier. As much as I felt pressured by her, I think she deserves more than I’m giving. I’m glad I don’t have Ezinne’s ghost hanging over me like before. Honey and I will build our relationship from the scratch because I’m devoting myself to us entirely.

im-sorry-cake-graphic

I stop at a bakery near my house for a chocolate cake and with my own hand, I write an apology on it. I also get a card and spell out all the amazing things I love about her. By the time I get home, it’s some minutes to ten. Honey is in the sitting room, alone in the dark. She startles me when I walk in. I don’t speak to her as I have noticed that she’s still unhappy with me. I simply head to the bedroom and place the cake and card on the bed before going to take a leak. When I return to the sitting room, I meet her the way I left her. Only this time, she has her phone to her face, and I’m left to see how pissed she is.

“So you’re going to act like you didn’t see me, sugar lips?”

“Where are coming from, Jide?”

I hate that tone she’s using on me.

“From the hospital, like I told you.”

“Really?”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll show you what it means. Here.”

She’s handing me her phone. I’m not looking at it; I’m looking at her.

“Take.”

I collect the phone and to my shock, I’m staring at the same SMS Ezinne sent to me.

“How did you get this?”

“Does it matter? What’s important is that my boyfriend is a cheat and a liar.”

“Hey, easy now.”

“You lied!” she screams from nowhere.

“Calm down, Honey. No need to raise your voice.”

“And you cheated!”

“I did not. I just went to see her. Yes, I lied about where I was going to but that was done not to hurt you. How would you have felt if I told you I was going to see her?”

“But I begged you not to!”

“Honey, I had to see her. I needed to see her.”

“In a hotel room? Alone with her?”

“Yes.”

“And nothing happened?”

Shit! I didn’t anticipate this curve.

“Honey…”

“Nothing happened?” she repeats.

I look down.

“You did something with her?” Her voice cracks. “Oh God, I’m a fool.”

She stands up but I don’t let her move. I rush to her and hold her in my arms. She doesn’t fight me; she fights with her tears but she doesn’t win.

“I knew you were going to do this to me. I knew.” With brute strength, she pushes me backwards after snatching her phone off my hand.

“I hate you!”

“Honey, please…”

“You were asking how I got the text? Well I’ll tell you. I hacked into your phone and kept track of all your online activities.”

“You did what?” I can’t believe my ears.

“I couldn’t trust you, Jide! All the stories I heard about you and the way you went off radar last week–”

“And so you invade my privacy?!”

“Don’t make this about me! It’s about you and how you can’t stay faithful!”

I laugh. I’m dazed. My girlfriend is crazy and I’m officially scared of her.

“Wow.” I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s heartbroken; she has every right to be but to spy on me? I’m sorry fam, I can’t take that. It’s a deal breaker.

But I’m crazy about this woman. And even now I just want to hold her and kiss her and tell her I’m sorry. I want to tell her I love her honey-brown eyes. I want to tell her to smile because there’s something about it that makes me feel like the world is at peace with me.

However, the words that come out of my mouth baffle me.

“I know I screwed up, Honey. And I’m sorry but you spying on me scares the hell out of me and makes me wonder about your maturity and emotional state of mind–”

“Fuck you!” She thumps my chest but loses steam immediately and begins to cry dejectedly. I reach out to her but she moves back. “I hate you. Just go to hell or-or just go and fall off a cliff or something…”

She storms into my bedroom and the door slams after her with spite. I hear a click, indicating she has locked herself in. I decide not to beg her because well, my pride has taken over my reasoning. She owes me an apology as well.

I turn on my games console and lie on my favorite couch. I realize my phone is in the room where I dumped it together with my wallet; but I refuse to go get it.

“When you vex finish, na you go carry your own two legs commot,” I say out loud but I don’t think she hears me because she seems to be hitting something in the room. I ignore and wait for her to come to her senses.

“You go tire.”

And that is how the whole night goes by without her leaving the confines of my bedroom. I fall asleep, my control pad in my hand. I wake up to some noise and realize the day is yet to break. I’m shutting my eyes back in sleep but a blast of bright light intrudes. I open my eyes and see Honey standing in the sitting room. She is dressed up, all bathed and fresh. Her box stands beside her and her handbag hanging off her shoulder.

“Where are you going by this time?” I ask.

“It’s five in the morning and I’m going to the park to get a vehicle to Warri to visit my dad.”

“I thought that wasn’t until the weekend.”

“I can’t stay here,” she almost interrupts me.

“Why?”

“Why?” she scoffs. “Because we’re over.”

I swing my legs to the cold floor. “What did you just say?”

“We are over, Jideofor.”

Mehn, this babe dey vex o. Just like that?

“Sugams, what’s wrong with you nau?” I question, walking towards her. “Just that little fight and you want to leave me?”

She pushes her hand into her handbag and pulls out something I vaguely recognize. It isn’t until she dumps it in my hand that I get to know it used to be my phone. She seems to have smashed it with something heavy. Phone that I bought for almost two hundred grand.

“Honey, why?” I’m dumbfounded.

“That’s what my heart looks like right now.”

And with that, she turns away and leaves the house, and I’m standing here with my mouth wide open like what the hell just happened. It takes me several minutes to get over the shock and anger she has just left me in. When I finally sit down, I start to laugh as my inner voice asks me why I like impossible women. I really don’t know why. If there’s no drama, she’s not worth my time. And it seems Honey has a lot of madness in her.

Anyways, I’m going to miss her and it will sting badly because it appears that I’m beginning to love her.

©Sally@moskedapages

P.S: The remaining episodes of It’s Another Saturday have been withdrawn from the blog for editing and a full revise. The full ebook comes out sometime in the middle of this year or hopefully before that.

Thank you for reading.

image credits: flickriver.com, shutterstock.com, tumblr.com

 

 

 

It’s Another Saturday…#14

Afternoon!

Next week I’ll bring you a new series from someone new. It’s all about family scandals. If you think you have drama in your family, you haven’t seen nothing yet. So, sit tight. You’ll have a mad ride with this one.

Enjoy episode 14 of It’s Another Saturday…

The One Who Keeps Appearing

Jide did not just walk me out of his house. He did not just do that. What in the world!

I breathe in deep. Calm down, Mary. He didn’t mean it. He would never knowingly treat you like that. It’s the jazz, so calm down…

Heck, I can’t! I am so mad I feel like walking back to his house and giving him a piece of my mind. How can he talk to me like that? Is he insane?

Anyways, I don’t blame him sha. He’s seen my nakedness, that’s why. But all the same, I’ll keep my cool. He’ll apologize when the juju clears.

I pull in another breath and glance down the street to see if a bus is coming. There’s a crowd waiting and I’m ready to cuff anybody that tries to stop me from getting into the next bus that shows. I’m so not in the mood.

I take out my phone in the meantime and begin to connect with my girls. I can’t keep this Tarela’s issue under wraps. I notice movement around me and look up. A bus is on its way. Not many empty seats for all of us. Oya Mary, time to bring out the barracks side of you.

bus stop

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

I get into Noka’s posh home and feel so dirty because I’m smelling of automobile fumes. I dust myself futilely. Damn this town and its pollution!

I hear a baby crying. It should be Bimpe’s or is it Peace’s?

I can hardly keep up with their kids. It’s as if they’re trying to outdo each other in childbearing. I even hear that Bobby’s wife, Kate, is already pregnant. Lol! Sharp shooter. I don’t want to be like them abeg. I want a husband with whom I can keep the honeymoon fire burning for at least a year and a half before kids come. I wanted Jide to be that man. Too bad we don’t always get what we want.

“Hi Mary!” Celia comes along with the baby that’s making all the noise and thrusts it at me as if it’s biting her. And I’m there looking at her like what am I supposed to do with it.

“I want to piss.” She runs off.

I look at the baby. It doesn’t look like Bimpe’s. It’s quite younger and has Ibro’s nose.

“Whose baby is this?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen where Noka, Peace and Kate are having coconut cookies and milk, like little kids. Bimpe seems absent.

“Can the mommy of this baby raise her hand?”

They all look at me. I notice Noka’s eyes are red.

“It’s Eno’s baby,” she tells me.

Eno is Ibro’s second wife.

“Okay, so why am I carrying her?”

“Where is this Celia sef?” Noka asks tiredly as she comes for the infant in my arms. “I gave her baby and she disappeared.”

“Why is the baby not with her mother?”

“Long story,” Noka responds and cradles the newborn.

I place my handbag on the kitchen counter. “Gist me.”

“Eno left Ibrahim. She got up two nights ago and just left.”

“Without her baby? Why?”

“Because he’s adamant on marrying the Kanuri chick his family wants him to marry. Eno told him she won’t stand for it, that she’s still young and since she didn’t give him a son, she’s not obligated to stay, so she left.”

“And you’re sad because…?”

“Because Ibrahim has been acting like a dick since she left. And then he dumped this child with me and when I complained, he told me to also pack and leave if I can’t take care of his child.”

I don’t get why Noka is breaking her head over the issue. Ibro has never loved her and it’s not like he’s going to anytime soon, so why break her head over him? Anyways, I’m not one to talk.

“Noka, don’t let Ibro and Eno’s madness get to you.”

She nods in sadness and tries to placate the baby as she turns to Peace.

“P, breastfeed this baby for me nau.”

“Noka give the child formula abeg. Na me born pikin? Me that I’ve already weaned my own baby.”

“Only last week. And look, your boobs are leaking.”

Peace stares at her breasts as if they have betrayed her.

“Please. She’s just a baby. I beg you.”

Peace gives in with a grunt. She takes the baby and begins nursing her.

“Madam Mary, what is this Tarela gist you have for us?” Celia appears. “I hope she has finally killed herself for real so that we can all rest.”

“Be nice,” I tell her and then go right ahead to give them details of Tarela’s sorcery ways. They are left stunned; well apart from Peace who claims she always knew Tarela was from the dark side.

“Oh please!” Celia hisses at her.

“Seriously, I knew. You know at that time I was strong spiritually. Not now that you people have influenced me into drinking alcohol.”

Celia smirks. “Abeg make I hear word.”

“But seriously, how could Tari do that?” Noka seems more affected by the news.

“Please who is she?” Kate asks quietly. As Celia gladly gives her the history of Tarela and Jide, I study Kate, taking note of her reluctant eyes and shy looks, and I’m thinking to myself that Bobby is such a cradle snatcher. The girl can’t be more than twenty-three. We know little about her apart from the fact that they courted for about a month or so, as he told us, and then he popped the question. Add another month and they’re walking down the aisle.

“But how can Tari stoop this low?” Noka remains bewildered.

“Well what do you expect from somebody who slashed her own throat?” Celia comments, picking a cookie.

“But I don’t understand some women,” Kate murmurs. “You’re killing yourself for a man that doesn’t give a damn about you. It’s just plain stupid. Like men are finished in the world?”

The kitchen goes hush. None of us want to look at Noka. Only Celia dares murmur a sardonic ‘mm’, at which point Kate realizes her gaffe and apologizes to Noka straightaway.

“No, it’s okay.” Noka puts out her hand to stop her. “Not like I don’t know what you all think about me.”

Each of us mumbles some form of polite defensive but she shuts us all down with another raised hand.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I sometimes sit down and wonder what is wrong with me. Why I can’t just walk away. I tell people that it’s because of my vows and the kids but the truth is I feel too weak, even helpless without Ibrahim.”

“But he keeps breaking your heart, Noka,” I remind her.

“All the time,” she emphasizes. “But I always look forward to those moments when he loves me. They’re few but they are enough to keep me with him.”

“You sound like an abused woman, Noka,” Celia blasts. “Ibro is abusing you emotionally and you still cling to him as if he’s life. My dear, you can do better without him.”

Oshey feminist Celia.

“It was Bruno Mars who said ‘a whole new world is waiting. It’s ripe for the taking.’”

“You didn’t have to sing it,” I chip in. Celia and Bruno Mars sef. I wonder if she still has wet dreams about him.

“Zip it, Mary. As I was saying, Noka, we women have to start showing these men our worth or they’ll keep treating us like shit. I hate Eno but right now, babe just upped her status on Ibro’s respect bar. And if you’re not careful, you might be the sacrificial lamb he’ll use to get her back. This just means that your place is still not secure in his life after two boys, first wife status and seven years of marriage. Why? Because you’re a wimp. You have no self-worth.”

Celia finishes and in typical character remains in Noka’s face to ensure her words sink in well.

“So you’re saying I should leave him?”

“You’re his first wife, Ajonoka. You’re not going anywhere. See, the thing with men is that they always complain that we demand too much and yet if we don’t demand, we are taken for granted. I think it’s time you start demanding what is rightfully yours. Demand Ibro’s love. Demand his time. Demand his devotion. Demand his property. Demand his cash. Demand his dick. Demand all of him.”

I’m not sure if Celia’s advice is the best but Noka sure needs some confidence boost.

“Thank you,” she whispers and takes Eno’s baby who is now deep asleep in her arms.

“So, back to Jide…” I say.

“Let’s fast and pray for him,” Peace suggests. My face melts into a smile. Woman after my own heart. “Juju is not something we joke about. I’m not comfortable with Jide seeing Ezinne’s ghost. It’s not funny. If he has been charmed, then only God can help him.”

“Yes. I also think we should pray,” Kate agrees.

“Yeah, we should.” Noka nods.

We all focus on Celia. She cringes. “Can I pass?”

“This is not the barstool, Cee,” I scold. “It’s someone’s life at stake here.”

“Must we fast? Prayers energized by food work just as well.”

“Celia!”

“Okay. We’ll fast.”

“For three days,” Peace directs as she stands. “We’ll break it every evening in my house.”

“You’re leaving?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“Let me follow you so you can drop me abeg.”

We share hugs with the others.

“Can you guys pray for Ibrahim too?” Noka pleads. “That he’ll love me.”

“I’d rather pray for you,” Celia declares, “that you you’ll stop loving him.” She throws her hands in the air and shuts her eyes. “Jesus, take the wheel!”

With a smile, I join Peace outside and we drive away. She drops me off at a stop not far from the Onuoras’. I use a keke to find my way there.

Mommy is at home. She gives me a hug when I walk in and scolds me for not visiting as I used to. I apologize. She asks me to join her in her garden at the backyard. She wants to get some fresh ugwu for some soup she wants to prepare.

I find it difficult sharing the news of Tarela’s acts and Jide’s present state. No mother should have to hear that the one woman she endorsed for her son turned out to be a villain. But I have no choice, so I share with her every single detail.

“Thank you,” is all she tells me and then pats my cheek, giving me that calm, small smile of hers that always takes the heat out of every problem.

“Jide will be okay,” she adds. “Don’t worry about him.”

I wish I could have her faith or her calm.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

I’m calling Jide for the fifth time today and he’s still not taking my calls. I think I just got into my worry phase. And I’m panicky too. I haven’t spoken to him since Wednesday. And today is Monday. I know he said to give him time but why is he not picking my calls? What have I done that he’ll act this way towards me?

Many bad thoughts run through my mind, thoughts that I can’t put a lid on. I fear that there is another girl. I fear that now that he’s had me, he has become disinterested. I fear that he doesn’t really feel anything for me. I fear that we are done.

I try his number again. It rings off. I redial. Same response. Panic level increases as the air in the taxi I’m in becomes tight.

I let down the window and poke my face out. The busy street flies past me unnoticed.

“Are you alright?” the cabbie asks. He is Saratu’s special cabman. Old, greying hair at the temples, beany-eyed, fatherly.

“I’m fine, Glen.”

“So you’re leaving us,” he says. I catch the warmth in his eyes in the rear mirror.

“Yes.”

“I’d love to visit Nigeria one day.”

“You’ll love it,” Saratu sitting beside me, says. I’ve almost forgotten she’s with me. She has been giving me the silent treatment all day. I’m surprised she still has a tongue. I look at her.

“Stop looking at me jor. Deserter of the friend.”

I smile in distraction at her. Jide has just ended my eighth call and switched his phone off entirely. Tears burn my eyes and I’m glad that Saratu doesn’t notice as she suddenly comes alive, engaging Glen in some talk about the last time they went out to play Bingo.

I face my phone again and this time, I try Oba’s number.

“Aunty?” Oba answers instantly.

“Hi Oba.” I infuse life into my voice.

“Are you in town?”

“No,” I reply.

“Okay. So how are you?” he enquires.

“Good. How’s everyone?”

“We’re all fine.”

“How is Jide?”

Oba pauses at my question. “He’s fine, I guess. Haven’t you spoken to him?”

“I haven’t. His phone is switched off.”

“You tried his other line?”

“I think that phone is bad.”

“Momsi just mentioned that he’s been switching off his phone lately.”

I feel a little consoled hearing that piece of information.

“Sha we’re going there now to see him.”

I feel my heart leap.

“Good. When you get there, please flash me. I’ll call back and you’ll hand the phone to him.”

“Okay.”

“Please, don’t tell him I’ll call. I want it to be a surprise.”

“Okay.” There is puzzlement in Oba’s voice.

“Thanks, Oba.”

“Sure thing.”

“So, Gatwick, yeah?” Glen asks just as I hang up.

“Yes,” Saratu and I answer together.

“Lover boy still not answering his phone?” she asks. I say nothing. She squeezes my knee. “I won’t rub it in.”

“Bitch.”

She sniggers. I drift away. I can’t wait to see my dad who is seriously ill, as I’ve been informed. I’ve missed my siblings too. However, my need to see Jide is foremost. It’s annoying that he’s someone I’ve known for only a short while and he already means so much to me.

I try not to think of him as I take in the most I can of the city that has become almost like a second home to me. I don’t know when I’ll be back here. I think of my colleagues and how much I’ll miss my life as a flight attendant. I feel anxious ending ten years just like that; but I am too excited to care.

“We’re here,” Glen says to Saratu and I. We get down and he helps me with my luggage and gives me a warm, bear hug, rubbing his stubby hands on my back.

I try not to cry when I face Saratu. She doesn’t cry so easily so it means something to see her eyes moist.

“You’re crying?” I tease.

“Yes, over the fact that you’re going to get your heart broken.”

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too.”

She hugs me and won’t let go. I have to wrestle myself off her clutch.

“Bye,” she whispers as I turn away. Tears flood my face, ruining my Mac. I’d like to think I’m crying because I’ll miss Saratu and whatnot but truth is I’m crying because…heck, I don’t know. It just feels good to let it all out.

legs2

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

The file containing Ezinne’s details is spread out on my bed with a paper with names and numbers printed out and pictures of her. The paper contains contacts of her friends and relatives. I have called every one of them and now I’m doing a double check to see who I have missed, except for the ones that were unavailable. None of them had any news about Ezinne. In fact, most of them were mad at me; some terminated the call the moment I let them know why I was calling. I didn’t really bother about their attitude. I just wanted someone to give me something tangible.

I fall back on the bed and resist the urge to turn on my phone. I wish Honey would just give me a little more time. I feel I am close to unraveling the mystery. Or am I just plain ridiculous here? But I saw Ezinne. I saw her…

Someone’s at my door. I groan. I am not taking visitors but what if it’s Ezinne? Crazy thought, but she showed up from the grave, didn’t she? Finding my house shouldn’t be a problem. I drag my feet to the front door and look through the peephole. When I see it’s my mom, I bump my forehead to the door and wish her away in my mind.

“Jideofor!” She bangs loudly. “Or are you saying you can’t hear me? What type of foolish behavior is this?”

Shit. She spoke entirely in Igbo. And she’s wearing her glasses. Means I’m in for an earful today. Thank you, Mary. You want to be my girlfriend and you can’t even keep a small secret.

I unlock the door. It pulls open with a whine and I stand, staring down at Nne’s small frame, realizing how much I’ve missed the nosy, old woman. I bend and give her a warm hug, diffusing her annoyance. After the hug, I drag her in and ignore Oba outside. I lead her to a couch. She sits and gives my house a good stare. This is her second visit. She still doesn’t like my décor. Flat, was what she called it the last time.

“Obasi, please wait in your brother’s room. We need to talk.”

She’s still in her dialect mood. Try not to push any buttons, Jide.

“Why are you like this?” She gestures, making a sweeping movement from the top of my head to my feet.

“Like how?” I reply in Igbo.

“Like you have not bathed in days.”

“But I have.”

“What is the problem, Jidenna?”

“Just come straight to the point, mom. I know Mary told you everything.” I sit.

“Yes, she did. So where is the juju?”

“Inside.”

“Go and bring it.”

I don’t argue. I walk into the guestroom and return with the box. She takes it in her hands and studies its contents keenly. And then she puts it aside.

“It’s totally useless,” she mutters. I am surprised at her conclusion. She is deeply religious. Aren’t there special prayers she needs to pray and demons to exorcise from my life?

“Mary came to me on Saturday and since then I’ve taken my time to fast and pray. And my God doesn’t disappoint, Jideofor. From the instant Tarela tried you, she lost the battle. Have no fears, my son. This nonsense cannot work on you. But as for her, it is the beginning of the end. For her to resort to this means after all we did for her as a family, then it means something bad is coming her way. She will pay for her evil acts.”

I watch my mom speak and grasp that her real reason for showing up is not Tarela but Ezinne. I wait for the moment when she’ll take off those glasses and ask me to look into her eyes so she can give me a good talking to. I don’t understand her sometimes. She wears the glasses when she wants to show she’s not kidding but will take them off when she’s about to get serious.

“What is this nonsense I’m hearing about you bumping into the ghost of Ezinne?”

Just as I predicted. And yes, she has taken off the glasses. I know she came with swords drawn. It will do me no good to argue with her. I will be the good son today.

“So you have started this your madness again.”

“Hurtful words, ma.”

“No, you need to hear it!” She flares. “It’s madness! And you need to get out of it fast before it takes you again. Ezinne is dead! She died five years ago. You have moved on. Keep moving on, Jideofor. Don’t let her take your life from you again. You have Honey now and that girl loves you. Don’t break her heart.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Does she know about this your latest misbehavior?”

“What misbehavior…?” I start to say but remember my resolve to act cool. “She doesn’t.”

“She’d better not. And you dare not mess with her or I promise you you’ll hate me for what I’ll do to you.”

“Chill abeg. It has not reached that level and stop talking to me like I stole meat from your pot abeg. You’ll just come into somebody’s house and be forming angry mother.”

Yeah, I know I said I’ll be calm but I just had to stop her.

“Why shouldn’t I be angry?” the stubborn woman throws back. “My son has something good and he wants to spoil it.”

“Nne, it’s okay nau! Hian!”

She sees on my face that it won’t go well for her if she continues, so she stops and tries another slant.

“Have I told you that Honey is going to be your wife?”

“Yeah. Just a day after I met her.”

“Okay. Then, let me tell you what I have not told anyone.”

I lean back. This is going to be an epistle.

“The day before I met Honey on the plane, while I was at Emeka’s in New York, I was having my morning devotion and I was particularly praying for you when God dropped a scripture on my mind concerning you. Exodus chapter twenty, and verse six. It says, ‘on that day I swore to them that I would bring them out of the land of Egypt into a land that I had searched out for them, a land flowing with milk and honey, the most glorious of lands.’”

“Okay?”

“I didn’t understand what it meant until I met Honey.”

“Okay?”

“And then it made sense. The land flowing with milk and honey.”

“You got to be kidding me, mom.”

“God was speaking to me, Jideofor.”

I laugh.

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry but mom, come on! Milk and honey? Okay, I believe you. But the thing is I have honey. What about the milk? Does this mean I get to marry two wives?”

“You’re joking with God’s word?”

I let out spurts of laughter that I can’t control. She watches me in a heavy-set scowl.

“Okay, let me explain what milk and honey mean from Songs of Solomon.”

“For real?”

“The first passage says, ‘your lips, my bride, drip honey. Honey and milk are under your tongue’. While the second passage reads, ‘I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride. I have gathered my myrrh along with my basalm. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey. I have drunk my wine and my milk’.”

I clear my throat loudly. “I’m sorry but that is so sexual.”

“And you think it’s a mistake that it is? Sex is God-ordained. But only for married couples.”

“Noted, ma.”

“And that is why that message is for you because Honey is your wife.”

“You said that the last five hundred times.”

“One more scripture is there as confirmation.”

I give her dizzy eyes.

“That one says, ‘my son, eat honey, for it is good. Yes, the honey from the comb is sweet to your taste.”

I now give her side eyes. “Can you stop?”

“I am hundred percent sure in my spirit that those scriptures give a clear message from God to you. Honey is yours. And no Tarela or Ezinne, those two evil Egyptians in your life, can separate you and her.”

“Amen!” I laugh.

Nne adds more scriptural admonitions before she asks me to burn Tarela’s voodoo. Subsequently, she prays for me. She stays for quite some time and I genuinely do not want her to leave because of the color she has added to my gloominess. For a moment, I begin to believe that I never saw Ezinne, that my mind has played a good one on me.

“Jide, someone wants to speak with you.” Oba walks into the sitting room, interrupting Nne in the middle of some hilarious tale about village folks.

“Who?” I stare at the phone he’s stretching out to me. He shrugs. Clueless, I take the phone and put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

There’s no answer at first.

“Hello?”

“Hotstuff, why are you doing this to me?”

Honey’s voice instantly makes me feel a cocktail of warm emotions. I realize how much I’ve missed her. I rise from my chair.

“Hey…”

“So you’re even okay? I heard you laughing just now.”

“Sugar lips…”

“Is there anything I did that you’ll treat me like this?”

I make my exit from the sitting room to have some privacy.

“You won’t pick my calls and you keep switching off your phone on me. What did I do?”

I walk into my bedroom and shut the door.

“Honey, first of all, I am sorry, baby.”

“Sorry is not what I want to hear. I want an explanation for your strange behavior.”

I earnestly don’t want to tell her about Ezinne.

“Or are you tired of us?”

“No. No, sugams. No. Get that out of your head.”

“Then what is going on?”

I feel bad for putting her in this state.

“Jide, please talk to me. I know something is going on. Is there another girl?”

I stare out into the darkness through one of the windows. There is no moon in the sky, no stars. Just darkness that mirrors some part of me.

“Yes, there’s someone else, Honey. My ex… she is supposed to be dead but I saw her last week. Imagine someone whom you were told died five years ago, popping back into your life just like that.”

Honey listens to me in silence as I tell her everything about Ezinne. Her life, her death and reappearance.

“Maybe I’m crazy.”

“Maybe you’re not.”

I’m surprised at her statement. I haven’t told her how my friends reacted to the news, so I know she’s not trying to score points by believing me. It is a genuine act.

“You don’t think I imagined the whole encounter?”

“Why would you?”

I breathe easy for the first time in days.

“Well, unless you’re still in love with her.”

“I am not. I just want answers, Honey. Why did she fake her own death? Why does she look different? Where has she been? What…?”

I stop, noting how I’m getting worked up over the matter.

“I’m sorry, sugar lips.”

“I understand, Jide. If my ex who is dead shows up from nowhere it would throw me off balance too. So, I understand. I just need to know that you don’t love her anymore.”

“I don’t.”

“And that she’s not going to come between us.”

“She won’t. I promise.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

There’s a short pause. “Can you…stop looking for her?”

Oh, Honey, don’t ask me to do this.

“I know what I’m asking is hard but please, stop going after her. If she faked her own death, it means she didn’t give a damn about you and she wants to be left alone, so please respect her wishes and stop looking for her.”

“Honey…”

“If you continue you’ll hurt me. There’s so much I can take, Jide. And you know how hard it is for me to trust anyone. Please, don’t give me sleepless nights over this issue. If she shows up to offer an explanation, fine. If not, let her be.”

I sit on the bed and stare at Ezinne’s pictures. In all of them, her mysterious eyes stare back at me.

“Jide?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Promise me.”

I draw in a quiet breath . “I promise.”

“We’re both letting go of our pasts. That’s the only way this relationship will work.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” Her voice softens. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

“So much so that I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I quit my job.”

“No way!”

“I did.”

“You go girl!”

She giggles.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while. Finally, I have you all to myself and Honey, the things I’ll do to you.”

She giggles again.

“I’m so proud of you, smoochie. That job was chipping off at your life little by little. I’m happy you’re done with it. So you’re flying in when?”

“I’m at the airport right now. My flight leaves in like thirty minutes. In seven hours I’ll be knocking at your door.”

“No, I’m coming to pick you at the airport. I can’t wait to see you.”

“’Me too.”

I’ve missed her. I can’t wait to see her. I think she’ll be what I need to get Ezinne out of my mind.

“Hotstuff, I have to go,” she says.

“See you, baby.”

The line goes off. I give Ezinne’s pictures one last glance and decide to gather them back into the file they came from. I still need answers but for now, I have to let things cool off, especially since Honey is going to be around.

The file finds a hidden corner in my wardrobe. After which, I turn my phone on and walk back to the sitting room. My mom informs me she’s leaving. I walk her and Oba downstairs. They drive off. I go back in, fix myself a cup of coffee and start preparing for work. Several minutes later, I’m out the door. I take a bus and sit in front, waiting for the empty seats behind to fill up.

An SMS comes in and thinking it is one of those promotional ads from five-digit numbers, I ignore it. The bus fills up with more people, we pay our fares and begin our journey. I go online and reply some comments from the few readers who visit my pregnancy and childbirth blog. I’m growing popular by the day. People are intrigued by the idea that I’m a male midwife. I like the attention I’m getting.

The bus driver stops at a fuel station to refuel his tank, ignoring protests from his passengers. I lean back on my seat and remember the SMS that had come in earlier. I click on it only to discover that it’s not a promotional. The very first word I read quickens my pulse.

Jay, let’s meet tomorrow evening at LeChase Hotel. Room 219. 8pm.

Ezinne.

I can’t believe what I’ve just read. Wow. Ezinne is really alive and I did not imagine that encounter with her.

I exhale, having held my breath for the entire length of time I was reading the text repeatedly. I go through it one more time to be sure I’m not conjuring the whole thing up.

The bus driver returns, we continue our journey. I store the number and dial her as soon as I’m done.

“Hello? Jay?”

Her voice is like a bolt of lightning that strikes my heart. I can’t take it. I feel my chest tighten. I end the call immediately, and thus my restless desire to see her again resumes.

I know I promised Honey but I just have to what I have to do. It is the only way I can let go of this longstanding affection that I have for Ezinne which I feel crawling into my heart like a venomous serpent.

Honey, sugar lips, I’m very sorry.

©Sally@moskedapages

Image Credit: travelgear.liburlibur.com, naijamayor.com

It’s Another Saturday…#13

A colleague asked me the other day if I get upset when readers tell me my episodes are short. I told her that I don’t. I feel flattered, rather. So, here’s a huge thank you for flattering me, guys.*kisses!*

But if I hear pim! about this episode ehn, I’ll be waiting with cane on the other side.

Enjoy episode 13 of It’s Another Saturday. If you want to catch up, read HERE

But Jide, Why?

black woman in spa

“This is a very stupid move, Hon.”

Saratu is mad at me for quitting my job. This has been her state of mind since I broke the news to her two days ago. Earlier, she took me shopping and now we’re at a spa where she’s spoiling me silly, just to manipulate my mind into staying back.

“He is so going to dump your sorry ass.”

“No, he’s not.” I smile at her when what I really want to do wring her neck. She doesn’t like to see people happy in love. She tried to make Dele’s wife feel miserable when she quit like I did; I’m not surprised that she’s doing the same to me.

“You know I’m telling you the honest truth here, Hon. The guy is already misbehaving sef.”

I stop sipping from the pineapple paradise cocktail in my hand for a second but continue immediately before she thinks I’m taking her words seriously. Jide is not misbehaving. In his defense, he called me three days ago to explain that he’ll be incommunicado for a while because he’s going through something serious, which he would rather not explain to me. He begged for a little time to sort himself out and assured me that his feelings for me were still strong. I was upset, especially over the fact that he won’t share with me what was bugging him. But I didn’t let him know how I was feeling. The best way to drive a man away is to show your insecurities. I’ve done enough of that already; I don’t want him to start feeling choked by my love. So, I simply said to him that I was okay with it and offered him a listening ear whenever he would be ready to talk.

“You know when guys say they need a break it means they’re dumping you, right?”

“Saratu?”

“Sorry. Just…putting it out there.” She moves closer to me, ignoring the frown on the face of the masseuse that is massaging her feet. “That was what chief told me and then he disappeared for a while and returned with divorce papers.”

“Sara, he divorced you because you called his mother a whore and refused to apologize and then she died.”

“I didn’t kill her. Her conscience did. I saw her banging my driver.”

“Technically she was allowed to do that. She was a widow.”

“Stop deviating from the point.”

“And what is this point?”

“You are giving up your life for a man who is half-committed to you.”

“I’ll tell you for the last time, Saratu Gambo, I quit my job for myself. Not for Jide. In fact, he doesn’t even know I’ve quit. I did it all for me.”

“Deceive yourself. Me and you know that in this your tiny brain, you are already seeing yourself pregnant for him and having small, annoying children hopping all around the house.”

I laugh. She hates kids.

“I hope you guys sha used condoms. The worst thing you can do to yourself now is get pregnant for him.”

“Yes mommy, we used protection,” I say patiently and add a smile. Lying beneath her nastiness is a darling.

“I’ll miss you sha.”

“Aww. I’m still here until Monday.”

“Then why were you packing your clothes earlier?”

I’m packing because somehow my mind is not at rest. But I tell her I just want to make sure I have everything set on time.

“Don’t go,” she begs. “Take the job British Airways is offering you.”

I smile and then shake my head slowly. “I can’t.”

Her face goes sad. And then she pulls her feet out of the bowl it’s immersed in and gives me a hug.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. It’s not warm when she’s away. Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. And she’s gone too long. Anytime she goes away.”

Bobby is really proud of the noise he just made in the name of singing. He grins from ear to ear as Ibro compliments his voice. The song is for me, to tease me over my drab mood because they think I’m missing Honey badly. Well, I am but Honey is the last thing on my mind right now. Something more disquieting is killing me inside.

“At least, commot the eye glass and face cap nau,” Bright says, reaching for my sunglasses. I move back and adjust the hat on my head. “The song said ain’t no sunshine and there ain’t no sunshine here. You wan kill yourself because of woman?”

“No mind Jide,” Reno replies.

They go on, making fun of me while I take in our classy environment. It’s a bar and grill. Packed full with customers. It’s a new place and our drinks are on Reno’s tab. Trust him to always find the joints that make all the buzz.

My attention comes back to the table. I’m about to reveal something that will make my friends think I’m crazy but I just have to let it out. It’s killing me.

“Guys, I saw Ezinne,” I drop the bombshell.

They give me half attention.

“I said I saw Ezinne. She is alive. She never died.”

I get total silence now. They all focus on me.

“Which Ezinne?” Bobby asks.

“Is there any other Ezinne you think I’ll be talking about?” I flick a drop of beer off my phone screen. “I saw her three days ago.”

“Guy…” Bobby begins to speak but Ibro butts in.

“No dey play with such things, Jide.”

“I am not. I saw Ezinne with these two eyes.”

They are staring at me with more seriousness now. It won’t be long before I see pity creep into their expressions.

I drink my beer, a tortured man. Beering, as Emeka would call it, is all I’ve been doing since Ezinne made a passing appearance in my life. I stay sober only during work hours but the moment I get home, I hug the bottle. My eyes behind my sunglasses are blood red from all the chugging.

“Where did you see her?” Bobby interrogates.

I travel back to Wednesday. A routine visit to my favorite food joint just down the street from my house is all it takes to turn my life upside-down. I walk into the joint, order my usual of amala and ewedu with two servings of shaki. They pack the food for me, I pay and I’m on my way out when I bump into a woman whose purse, pocket umbrella and phone clatter to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I say and immediately hit the floor to pick the fallen items. I gather them in my hands and rise up to meet a face that belongs to a stranger but eyes that are Ezinne’s. She gasps, steps back and stares at me with lips parted. My hands holding the items are hanging in the air as we both grip each other’s eyes.

“Ezi?” I pant.

She grabs her belongings and dashes out of the restaurant in a flash. I run after her but find that she has hopped into a waiting cab and disappeared into the rainy night. I stand there for a long time, dazed, confused, wondering what the heck I just encountered or if I even encountered it at all.

“For real?” Bright asks.

“Yeah. I went to her parent’s house that same evening only to discover that they no longer lived there. They had moved not long after they said she was dead.”

I finish my beer and wipe my mouth. My friends are dead quiet. Nobody wants to voice out what’s in their heads. I help them.

“Y’all thinking probably I imagined this, that we’re back to that time when I was very sure she was not dead and I stood by my conviction even without evidence. Well, this is different. The person I saw was Ezinne. The nose and lips were not hers but the eyes…they were her eyes.”

“You know say two people fit get the same eyes, abi?” Reno stated.

“It was Ezinne, Reno.”

My tone brings back the silence. I call for another bottle. A waiter comes along with it but Bobby takes it away from me.

“I can’t let you do this again, man.”

“Bobby, abeg give me my beer.”

“What’s it with this Ezinne chick that messes you up like this? She appears from the grave…”

“It’s not even her,” Ibro contributes.

“…and you turn to this person,” Bobby continues.

“Give me my beer!”

“You have fixed your life, Jideofor. You have a good job and a woman who loves you, man. Get your shit together and get that Ezinne out of your head! Abi na jazz she jazz you?”

His last words hit something hard in me and my hand stretched out for my drink, drops down. I abandon my thoughts of Ezinne and my growing annoyance at Bobby and spring to my feet. My head throbs but I ignore it, pick my phone and dash out of the bar without saying anything to them. I’m sure they’ll conclude that I’ve finally lost it but I’m not thinking of them. I’m flagging down a red cab in a crazy manner. I need to get home fast.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

I dash into the house like a madman and barge into the spare bedroom, the one that holds the bathroom Tarela used the day she visited with Mary. I begin a frantic search of any diabolic object she might have planted there. I turn the room upside-down but find nothing.

I stop. Maybe I’m exaggerating. Or just being plain judgmental. After all, she did tell me she had turned her life to God. Why am I still thinking she’s the same person from the past?

I allow utter silence into my consciousness. It’s the only way my instinct works well. I listen real hard and it tells me that something is still off. I turn to the bathroom door absently and then recall that it is the one place I haven’t searched. I push the door open and go straight to the toilet tank. When I take off the lid, I’m not surprised at what my eyes fall on.

I pull out a black box that is soaked in water and has red strings tied around it. When I open the box, I see two voodoo dolls bound together. I shake my head. Tarela! I hiss. Old habits die hard. She has not changed one bit.

I walk into the sitting room, place the so-called juju on a couch and dial Mary.

“I need to see you right away,” I tell her.

“Is everything okay?”

“Please, just come.”

I recline on my three-sitter, scratching my two-day old growth of beard as I stare at the dolls in disappointment.

Tarela was a nice, soft-spoken girl when I met her. It was love at first sight. Crazy, mad love that made my friends envious. She stole everyone’s heart, especially my mom’s. No one would have ever thought she had another side to her. She had it well hidden; even I was fooled. Or maybe I wanted to see only what my eyes wanted to see. When I eventually discovered who she really was, we were both already invested in the relationship and she was wearing my ring. She had even gotten herself this vintage wedding gown with all her earnings. Sadly, I had to end the relationship for my own good but Tarela simply refused to let go. I tried everything and finally resorted to moving in with Ezinne, whom I was secretly dating for a while. My blatant actions shocked everyone and they tried to get Tarela and I back together but my heart was already sold to Ezinne. The more they pushed, the deeper I fell. Soon Ezinne and I got engaged and Tarela’s insanity went into overdrive. She showed up at my birthday party unannounced, gave this long speech about how much of an asshole I was, broke a wine bottle and slit her throat with it.

My life turned to a mess from then on and I swore never to have anything to do with her again. I thought that by now she would be over me but obviously I was disillusioned.

Mary raps softly on my door. I stand up and let her in.

“Hi.”

I take her hand and drag her to the couch where I left the box of voodoo dolls. I point. She looks but doesn’t make sense of what she is seeing.

“This is the real reason your friend came here on Tuesday,” I expound.

“I don’t understand. What is this supposed to be?”

“What does it look like?”

Slowly, realization hits her face.

“Oh God! Pin cushions? Voodoo dolls?”

“Yeah.”

“Voodoo dolls? What for?”

“You’re asking me? You brought the person that dropped them here.”

Mary unslings her handbag and puts it aside. “Jide I don’t understand. I came here with Tari nau. When did she give you this that I didn’t know?”

“She didn’t exactly give me; she hid the box in the guest toilet when she allegedly went to pee.”

Mary is still terribly confused. “But why?”

“Mary, your friend planted jazz in my house.”

Mary slaps a hand over her mouth. Her shock is palpable.

“Clearly, you have no clue who your Tarela really is.  Sit, let me gist you.”

I help her immobile body into a couch and give her a glass of cold water to calm her head.

“I left Tari for Ezinne because I found out that she was using jazz on me.”

“Jide, please stop lying.”

“I was in her crib when I made the discovery. I can’t remember what I was looking for under her bed that afternoon that led me to find a bottle that had a short, red candle, some hair, a used condom and other nameless creepy stuff inside it. I confronted Tari and she swore with her life that she had no idea what it was and how it got there. She claimed one of her friends who hated her might have put it there and suggested we go to church for special prayers. Mary, my feelings for Tari died that day.”

Mary is still shaken. “What if she wasn’t lying?”

“She was. I did a background check on her after that and realized she had lied to all of us. Her parents are not dead. I couldn’t trace the whereabouts of her mother whom I was told, abandoned her, but her father is a witch doctor in their village in Benue state.”

Mary is dizzy with the news. She speaks but only with her hands because she can’t find the words to express herself. “Is her name really Tarela?”

“Yes.”

“She’s not Yoruba?”

“No.”

“Jideofor, why didn’t you tell anyone this nau?”

“To what ends? You were all in love with her. I was the bad one. Besides, she must have been trying to erase a painful childhood, so I felt it would have been heartless to expose her to the people that have shown her love.”

“Love?” Mary stands up in anger. “What love?! She manipulated us! Maybe even jazzed us! She lied! And she’s still lying! I swear I’ll tell everybody, Jide! Wha-wha-wha-what type of wickedness is this?! Even to the extent of voodoo dolls?! Voodoo dolls?! That girl has liver, Jide! I’ll expose her shit, right after I beat her blue-red!”

I know Mary is not bluffing. If I don’t stop her, she’ll carry on with her threat.

“Calm down.”

“Oh God! And Jide you said nothing and took all the insult?”

I shrug. I’m weird like that sometimes. If one simple explanation is not enough for you to believe my own side of the story, then I see no need going to extra lengths to prove myself.

“I’m so mad, Jide, you won’t understand.”

“Actually, I do.”

I calm Mary and beg her to keep what we have discovered secret. We have to find out what Tarela is up to before we act on it.

“But aren’t you scared of…this?” Mary points at the twin dolls.

“No.”

“But…”

“I don’t believe in its potency. What I hate about it is the desperation in Tari. After all these years, she shows up out of nowhere and thinks she can ruin my life again? I won’t take it smiling this time.”

“Na wa o.”

I lose my current mood and slip back to thoughts of Ezinne. Mary picks out that something is wrong.

“Jide, is there more you want to tell me?”

“Mmm?” I reply distractedly.

“I hope it’s not this Tarela’s something that is making you look miserable like this o.”

I look at Mary. “Ezinne is alive.”

She pulls her head back in reaction to my words. I take my time to narrate the details of my encounter with Ezinne. And unsurprisingly, Mary, just like my friends, thinks I’m out of my mind. She even develops this interesting theory as she eyes the dolls suspiciously.

“What if the jazz is already working?” she submits squeakily.

“What?”

“What if the jazz is here to mess with your head and it’s working? Tarela was here on Tuesday, right? And then you saw Ezinne the very next day. What if you didn’t really see Ezinne? And the job of this thing is to just mess up your life and…”

“I SAW EZINNE!” I thunder.

“Okay, okay, okay. Calm down, Jide. Just…calm down…”

“Leave.”

I don’t care to see Mary’s expression. I know if I look I’ll see shock and hurt but I don’t care. I just want her out of my house.

“Jide?” she calls.

“Mary, please leave. If you think I’ve lost my mind or I’m messed up as you said and these two stupid things here are responsible, then I don’t think I can stand you right now. Leave, please.”

“Jide, you’re hurting yourself. Please, stop it. For the sake of your mom, please stop.”

“I’m fine and my mom is fine. The only hurt here is that the people I trust think I’m psychotic. Good. Fine. I am. So you people should just let me be. If you can’t help unravel the mystery of why somebody who is supposed to be dead is alive, then get the fuck out!”

Mary picks her handbag. “I’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you. Go.”

I hear her footsteps over my floor, loud, in rhythm with my labored breath. The door closes and in rage, I kick the voodoo box to the floor. It knocks over the half glass of water Mary has left and that one also comes crashing in pieces. When the noise dies down, I hear my phone ringing. I pull it out of my pocket. It’s Honey calling. I toss the phone aside and lie back on the couch. The only person I want to hear from is Ezinne. I need answers from her or I’ll go mad for real.

Chilling-on-couch

©Sally@moskedpages

Image Credits: writechangegrow.comkristinandcory.com

It’s Another Saturday…#12

This post is for all the Oliver and Olivia Twists that keep telling me the episodes are short. This should quench your thirst.

Double Trouble

Oh my God! Jide is in love?!!!

I jolt up from my bed as if shot with a thousand needles. What type of useless dream did I just have? What madness is this?

No, I cannot accept this if indeed it’s more than a dream. After all I sacrificed to ensure that his heart remained cold? Mtsheeew! I am demanding my money back or God help me, I will find that useless gypsy bitch wherever she is in this world and force poison down her throat.

I turn on my WiFi and my phone and wait for both to boot up. Immediately they do, I make a video call to Kiya AKA my Egyptian spellcaster, AKA witch doctor. Many ladies in Nigeria go to useless babalawos that eat their money and do nothing for them. But Kiya, she’s the real deal. She has been my savior for years, helping me from across the world to ensure Jideofor’s love life remains empty and useless. It was she who gave me the spell in which I used in binding him to meaningless sexual encounters. It was my own little way of saying, ‘oga, shebi it was another vagina that separated me from you, then vaginas you shall have until you run back to me’.

The spell has worked successfully for five years, even with the Bridemaker twist that I never saw coming. It was supposed to keep working until his life wrecked totally and I stepped in to restore that sweet and special thing we once had. He was NOT supposed to fall in love!

“Hello, dear.” Kiya is smiling. I am not. She is void of her gothic makeup today. Her scanty jet-black hair cascades across her forehead making her reminiscent of a rat that once fell into my toilet tank.

“He’s in love,” I tell her straight. No time for long talk. “You promised he will never fall for anyone again! But now he has!”

“How do you know he’s in love?”

“Remember the girl I told you he’s been parading around town? Remember I told you I had bad vibes about her? Well, I had a dream that he got married to her!”

“A dream.”

“Yes, a dream. And you know my dreams never lie to me.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

I describe in detail how I saw Jide slipping this dazzling yellow diamond ring on the girl’s finger. Then he went ahead and kissed her the way he used to kiss me. That was when I woke up.

“This sounds serious.”

“Like hell! I want you to break them apart! Make him hate her! Or just kill her! I don’t want them together! I want him back to me right now! I’m tired of waiting!”

“Calm down, dear. You will have your man back. However, you might need a very strong spell that will take time to prepare after we undo this one which seems to have weakened.”

“I don’t have time, Kiya. When Jide falls in love, he falls fast and holds nothing back. We could be here talking and he’s out there buying her a ring. That was what he did with me and that other stupid cunt.”

“Baby girl,I repeat, a stronger spell takes time like the one you’re already on.”

“It’s taking a lifetime!”

“Well, a less stronger one but almost as potent, will either need his semen or blood.”

“I don’t need any of that. Jideofor loves me but he’s acting like a typical male. We just need to speed things up.”

“Then it requires an ancient Creole spell in addition with some real voodoo.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“But I warn you, dear. Combination spells are dangerous and so is this particular voodoo. It requires you making twin love puppets that you have to mail to him. If he destroys those puppets, you’re toast.”

“I don’t care. Just tell me what to do.”

“I’m warning you again. It could backfire.”

“And again, I don’t care! I want my man back. I have waited enough abeg.”

“Okay. Give me a minute.”

Kiya disappears and I ponder over her words fleetingly. Dangerous kor, risky ni. What’s worse than surviving one more night without my king?

Kiya returns. “I had the spells in my other phone. I just emailed them to you. If you don’t have the elements, let me know and I’ll ship them from my sister’s store in Cairo and you’ll have to wait to the next full moon. But if you have them right now, you must do them this night since it’s the first night the moon waxes full in your end.”

“Whatever. How much?”

“Hundred and fifty.”

“You dis woman sef! Your own don pass babalawo.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak ebonics, girl. Hundred for both spells. Fifty for consultation.”

“I’ll pay half tomorrow morning and half when Jide’s in my bed.”

Kiya doesn’t complain. I’m her faithful customer.

“You’ll find the first spell particularly pleasurable.” Her smile is naughty. I don’t have time for that nonsense. I dial off.

Her email is waiting. I read the first spell with a smile. I can’t wait to try it. But I quickly put together the second one which has me creating two small voodoo dolls, one from my hair and the other from Jide’s old t-shirt. I bind them together, place them in a tiny box and tie the box with seven red strings, making seven knots. I subsequently put it under my bed where it will remain for seven hours and seven minutes and seven seconds before I take it out.

When I’m through with that, I begin the first spell that is to make him desire only me, which will have him hating his new girlfriend. It is a very powerful act of magic that involves a red candle, some of Jide’s hair which I have kept for years, and then an ancient Creole chant. I follow the instructions and in the end, use the candle, now melted and remoulded into Jide’s penis shape, to pleasure myself.

I stay awake for the rest of the night after that, counting the hours before I take the box from beneath the bed. I pray to the universe that my plan works with no foibles. I intend to use Mary to get the box into the house. She and I have not spoken in years but today, I will mend bridges. In fact, I think I will start mending old bridges to pave way for my re-entry into Jide’s life.

I smile at this ingenious plan of mine. Jide, here I come, baby!

 

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

tumblr_mjx3hvgvrk1ri3wnco1_500

She’s gone. And I miss her already. She’s taken her different tones of laughter, her unassertive eyes, her incredibly soft lips, her enthralling body and her indulgent heart. We had talked and made love all day; and now her scent lingers. I walk into my room. It feels so cold and empty but the bed is yet to exorcise the last memory I have of her in it. She had been sitting at the edge in her underwear, feet to the floor, head buried in her hands, crying. I had come in from the bathroom to find her that way. We had just two hours before her flight to London. I stooped down and took her hands in mine.

“Stop crying, sugar lips.”

I was back to the first pet name I gave her; it took on a whole new meaning after we made love. But she prefers when I just call her sugams.

“We’ll figure out a way, baby,” I tried to assure her.

“The only way is if I quit my job.”

“Then quit.”

She drew a long sniffle. “I don’t know…”

“You still don’t trust me?”

She didn’t reply.

“You think you’ll give up your life and I’ll turn around and hurt you.”

“I’m sorry.”  She let her head down. “I just can’t trust any man in my life again.”

“Honey, don’t say that. For this relationship to work, we need trust. I don’t fall in love so easily but when I do, I take the plunge totally, so I’m wholeheartedly committed to us.”

She wasn’t convinced and I didn’t expect her to be. It would take time. Still, I put up a good case.

“You saw what Emeka did with Tola. He kept his word. That should give you a glimpse of the type of man I was raised to be.”

“I’m just so scared that something will tear us apart, Jide. I feel it.”

“Stop being scared nau. And put that Bridemaker nonsense out of your head.”

She nodded but her tears fell on our entwined fingers. “Promise you won’t leave me.”

“I promise, sugar lips.”

She sought the assurance of my kisses, which ultimately led us into making out. Having kissed her countless times already, I had mastered those soft, silky lips and I took them leisurely, feeding from the sweetness of her mouth. As my hand grazed over her body, I realized I would miss the way her eyes glistened whenever I touched her. But it was my tongue I employed in pleasuring in her. There wasn’t an inch of her that I didn’t want to taste. I wanted to retain her essence long after she was gone and so I sought the secrets of her tight depths with my mouth. She murmured brokenly, but I had only just begun. When I took her, guiding myself in possessively, inch by inch until I filled her completely, she was already pulsating. Her breath on my neck was hot and moist, her fingernails adding scratches over the ones she had inflicted from last night. She arched to meet me, thrust for thrust. The dance was measured, powerfully penetrating and drugging. Neither of us wanted it to end but time refused to have a threesome with us. I told her to let go and it was as if I opened a dam. I felt the first surge and I lost my senses. She has this skilled way of making it rain on me, and rain it did until I joined her in a shuddering, pulsing climax. I palm her breast in my hand. I don’t want to let go. I want to hold on for as long as I can.

 

At the airport, just before she boarded her flight, I gifted her a gold necklace that held a yellow Beryl stone.

“I’m so going to miss you, Jide,” she told me, twisting the stone between her fingers.

“I know.”

“Don’t hug me. Just walk away and let me watch you walk away.”

I laughed. “Why?”

“Because I’m so bad with goodbyes, baby,” she confessed, sniffing. “Go.”

I didn’t listen to her. I kissed her until she couldn’t breathe and people started staring and then I walked away, knowing her eyes were on me.

A profound sense of loss greeted me when I returned home, and it hasn’t eased up till now. I leave my bedroom to the sitting room to watch TV. Bobby has invited me for beers with the guys but I’m not interested. I’d rather stay in.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

I am in my friend’s apartment in Central London. She’s a divorcee who does nothing but spends her ex- husband’s money and screws him while doing it. Take for instance the apartment we’re in; it’s a recent gift from him. It’s just a two-bedroom but was gotten at a cost of four million pounds and given to her to enjoy whenever she pops into the UK. I have long given up preaching to her to let the man and his new wife be. But she’ll always remind me that in the eyes of God, she is still his wife.

“Honey, here.”

She walks in from the kitchen and passes me a cup of tea.

“It’s relaxing.”

I want to ask her why I need to take something relaxing, then I remember that just a few minutes ago I was pinning over the fact that my job has been restored.

“I think you should just quit, Honey. Your guy sounds capable of taking care of you financially.”

“Is everything about money to you, Saratu?”

“Yeah. I mean, why would a woman quit a high-paying job just for love? It’s stupid.”

“Well, I don’t want to quit for either love or money but for myself. I have goals, you know.”

Saratu rolls her eyes. I doubt her goals go beyond having the next Liz Claiborne purse or Chris Aire earrings. That’s why she is a lot closer to Dele’s wife than she is with me.

“Guess who I bumped into at Selfridges the other day,” she says.

“Who?”

“One of your Igbo exes.”

“Nonso?”

“Nope.”

“Kaycee? Obi? Max?”

“No.”

I make a grimace. “Who then?”

“The one who popped your cherry.”

I feel an eerie chill spread over me. “Ekene?”

“Yes, Kene. He asked of you. In fact, he’s visiting today.”

“Why?”

“Just for old times’ sake. After school, we all just scattered like that. I miss our little clique.”

Yeah, we were one tight clique. Just close friends. Until Kene had me in the back of his uncle’s car and made me fall for him and kicked off my addiction for south-eastern brothers. We dated throughout university but both parted ways when I got my first air hostess job while he began working for an oil company and was taken off shores for a freaking long time. I suffered a major heartbreak and begged him to let me and my heart be because I couldn’t bear the pain of being apart from him for long periods. It was hard for him to let go because he was madly in love with me as well. We parted but still kept the line open and sometimes maybe once or twice a year, we would spend the night together. However, he disappeared from radar almost four years ago and this is the first I’m hearing about him since then.

“Is he married?” I ask Saratu.

“No. But he’s fatter sha. Chubby but in a good way. Smells of good money too.”

“What time is he coming?”

“Anytime soon.”

“And you’re just telling me?”

“I should have told you earlier? Why?”

“Because I don’t want to see him.”

“Why?”

“Because I have enough exes popping up in my life at the moment! The flight I was on was flown by Nonso who had the galls to specially welcome me on board, right on the PA system! My life is enoughly complicated as it is! I don’t need Kene the crazy to make things worse!” I fire up to my feet. “He’ll come here, see me and start declaring love and demanding that I open my legs for him!”

“I never really understood your thing with that Nonso creep, to be honest. The guy is not even that fine or half as rich as Kene sef.”

If Saratu didn’t have this dark chocolate skin that I always envied, I would have given her a knock on her big head this moment. How is her off-topic statement helping my life problems? But wait a minite, I smell a rat here.

“Tellme the truth, Sara. Is Kene coming to visit you or me?”

Saratu, rather than answer me, finds her almost empty cup of tea intriguing.

“Sara?”

“Okay, I met him at Selfridges the other day and he was going on and on about you. I just had to promise him that whenever you flew in, I’d call him over.”

“And you did. Well done. Anyways, entertain him yourself.  Me, I’m going out.” I pick my purse from the sofa I had just risen up from and aim for the door. The moment I throw it open, I see Ekene standing there. He tries to act surprised but his yellow Igbo face can’t hide lies well.

“Hon?”

My mouth dries up.

Memories of the past, please stay in the past. I don’t love this dude anymore. Jide is all I need.

“Sara didn’t tell me I’d find you here.”

“Yeah right.” My angry face is up.

“Are you okay? Why are you frowning like that?”

“I’m not frowning,” I say quickly. “I’m in a hurry. Can you please, step out of the way?”

He’s thrown by my attitude. The last time we met, we said goodbye in kisses. I’m sure he’ll easily conclude that I’m mad at him for going off grid. But I’m not; instead I’m mad at him for popping up on it.

“Maybe a hug won’t be bad.”

“I don’t hug guys anymore. It’s Haram.”

“Are you a Muslim now?”

“No. It’s a personal Haram.” I put out my hand for a shake. He takes it and kisses it tenderly, almost like the wind brushing over my skin. I withdraw quite fast.

“Bye!”

I push past him and start down the street. I have nowhere in particular to go. In fact, I don’t even know this side of London, so I stroll around and do some tourist promenade and window shopping until my legs give in. I get elated when Jide calls. Out in front of a bookstore, with a little dog tied to a lamppost, yapping for no reason, I share with him how my day has been. Like me, he’s not happy to hear the news of my job.

“But it’s the life you’re used to and I realize it was selfish for me to ask you to leave it. I’m sorry I did, sugams. If you want to quit, you should do it for you, not for me.”

I shut my eyes and take in the sunless air. I think God is beginning to give me signs that Jide is the one. If not, why would he voice out the exact sentiments in my heart?

But my mistrust and insecurity won’t let me flourish.

“I don’t understand you, hotstuff. Last night, you wanted me to quit and now you’re saying you were being selfish? Are you giving up on us already?”

“No, Honey. I just want you to be sure it’s what you want when you do quit.”

Give him a break, Honey.

“Okay.”

We converse further under a better mood. There’s laughter and some teasing and pillow talk. He runs out of airtime after an hour and promises to call late at night.

I feel lighter after he rings off. I head back to Saratu’s, hoping Kene is gone by now. Unfortunately I find him waiting. Saratu has just left the house to see a friend down the street.

“I have a boyfriend,” I state clearly, “just in case you think we’ll do what we used to do in the past.”

Kene keeps mum and watches as I take off my sneakers and sit far away from him. Not that the sitting room allows for that type of sitting. Four million pounds for cardboard box with no space.

“You look happier,” Kene mentions.

“Thank you.”

“Sexier. And your eyes… You’re in love?”

I blush. “How do you know?”

“It’s easy to tell. You used to have those eyes for me once upon a time.”

“Well, they’re for someone else now.”

“He’s lucky.”

“How about you?”

“Love keh. Unless with mami wata.”

I don’t get his joke. He explains that because he’s always at sea, he has no time for women.

“Up till now?”

“Up till now o. And momsie is begging me to bring her home a wife. As I am like this, I’m willing to find some reasonable girl and ask her to marry me, just to please the old bird.”

“Don’t you want to fall in love?”

He chortles. “Love? Love is work, Honey. And it takes time to build and nurture. And then there’s all that heartache in-between. Who wants that type of stress? I’d prefer to have someone I’m comfortable with since the one woman I’ve ever loved is in love with someone else.”

“I see.”

“Marry me, Honey.”

He drops the words like a bomb that explodes in my chest, cutting off my breath for a second. Oh Lord! Jide’s Bridemaker thing is no joke.

“What did you just say?” he asks.

“Ehn?”

“You still do you speaking out loud thing ba?”

“Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“Yes, I did. Marry me, Honey. I know you have a boyfriend but I don’t think you two will last like we have. I’ve been so lonely these past few months and I realized it’s because you have been missing in my life. We used to be so good together, baby…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What happened?”

“I moved on. And now, I’ve found someone else.”

“Someone else,” he repeats. “Does he know you like I do? Has he made love to you to the point you’re lying helpless, finding it hard to breathe?”

“Get out, Kene.” I stand up. I don’t want to hear any more of his crap. I point at the door.

“Has he seen this particular face on you, when you get confused and start acting irrationally because you can’t control a situation? Has he heard you fart or sat on the toilet floor while you pooped? Or held your hand while you aborted a pregnancy you carelessly got after a drunken one-night stand? Does he even know that part of your dark past? And if he did, would he still want you like I still do?”

“Get out, Kene!”

“Does he know you can never trust him, that I’m the only man you trust?”

“GET OUT!”

Ekene finally heeds my orders and stands and walks to the door.

“The next time we meet, you’ll wear my ring. Mark my words.”

The door closes silently as if unaware of the storm brewing in me. I fall back into the chair and cry my eyes out. I feel helpless. Not that I can’t handle Ekene; it’s just that I feel a strong force tearing Jide and I apart. With the way things are going, I’ll give in to the urge to turn in my already-typed resignation letter and run back to Nigeria to be with him. But what if he breaks my heart?

Saratu returns and sees me crying. She tells me she can’t handle my tears, and dials Dele’s wife. Two of them listen to my story and both come up with their different solutions.

“Stick with Jide,” Dele’s wife advises. “I know it’s just two weeks but I think he’s surer of what he wants than Kene is. Kene just wants to please his mom and he always has this sense of entitlement over you just because he disvirgined you. If he really loves you, he would have proposed a long time ago.”

“I disagree,” Saratu butts in. “Talk about a man who has known Honey since teenage years, a man who loves her and still does, despite knowing her shit. Kene has not dated any girl apart from her. What other type of devotion does she want? And he’s not asking her to quit her job to come play loving wife with him like Jide suggested.”

“Honey loves Jide,” Dele’s wife makes clear.

“But she still has feelings for Kene.”

They go on and on whilst I sit, thinking of Jide and how much I miss him. I feel the debate is of no consequence. Kene is like the ice-cream I used to like when I was younger but now that I’ve tasted Baileys, it’s what I always want to take. I don’t hate the ice-cream but I’ll never go out of my way to buy it and I’ll settle for it only if Baileys stopped existing.

“Just sha follow your heart,” Dele’s wife concludes with a little annoyance in her voice because Saratu has somehow steered the whole thing into a discussion of who has more money. If I don’t break the argument up, Saratu will find a subtle way to remind Dele’s wife that her ex-husband toasted her first and she turned him down only to marry a less richer man; and then Dele’s wife will snidely state that wealth doesn’t guarantee a long-lasting marriage to an old man.

“Yeah, follow your heart,” Saratu agrees and we end the discussion. I try to bring up another topic but the mood has been soured. As much as these two love themselves, they fight unnecessarily. Today, I’m not ready to play peacemaker. I thank them for lightening my mood and retire to my room to wait for the night to come so I can speak to my hotstuff.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

Mary and her quaint, little life. I find it very cute that she has these adorable flowerpots outside her apartment and the stairs that lead up to the door are painted pink and green. How delightful.

I knock on her door.

“Who is it?” she asks. Like I’m going to answer. I knock again and wait. I hear some sounds and then the door opens. Her mouth widens in surprise.

“Tarela?”

“Yes, bestie!” I spread open my arms and force-hug her, refusing to acknowledge that she is standing stiffly. Well, it’s hard to call Mary stiff. She has this soft pair of generous boobs that make for squishy hugging.

“I’ve missed you, May. Haven’t you missed me?”

She is still dazed.

“Can I…come in?”

She moves aside and lets me in. I walk into a typical Mary space – purple, girly and flowery. Yawn.

I slump on the bed like I own it and kick off my shoes. Mary stands over my head, staring. I notice she has her leg bandaged.

“What happened?”

“Minor injury. Why are you here, Tari?”

“Why am I here? What a question! I came to see you nau. Come, give mommy a hug.”

Mary looks like she wants to slap me.

“Come on, May, let bygones be bygones. I messed up. I am sorry. Forgive me.”

“Just like that,Tari? You accused me of sleeping with Jide so many times and I kept forgiving you and mending our friendship because of your fragile heart. But then you go and stupidly slash your throat and refuse anyone to visit you in the hospital. Yeah, I remember when Shady and I came you were telling the nurse that you didn’t want to see those two demons. Remember?”

“I’m sowee, May.”

“Whatever. Just leave.”

I pout and use my small voice which Jide used to find charming back in the day. “Do you really want me gone? I love you, May.”

“Me, I don’t.”

“Well, I’m going nowhere. I’m sleeping over so we can catch up where we left off.”

“Lai-lai. I’ve moved on, Tari.”

“Come on, May. You know you miss your bae.” I get off the bed and spread my arms open as I go after her. “Come, give mommy a kiss.”

I grab her and plant kisses all over her not-so-pretty face. She used to hate when I did that but it always worked like it is working now. Soon, she gives in and blesses me with her first smile after five years.

“I hate you,” she says with tearful eyes. “You and Jide just abandoned me. I was a total wreck.”

“Aww, poor thang.” I hug her one more time. I hate her perfume. “Speaking of Jide…how is that misbegotten doing?”

“He’s fine. He’s back.”

“So I heard.” I sit on the bed.

“Wait, have you been in town?”

“Yes, not long ago.”

Lies. I’ve been around since I lost my mind and almost killed myself for my king. I never went away because the spell Kiya gave me specified that I was never to leave town for more than three days.

“Wait was it him that got married yesterday?”

“No, it was Emeka.” Mary looks at me suspiciously as she sits beside me.

“What?” I ask.

“You seriously have gotten over him?”

“Tay-tay. I even got meself a little boyfriend on the side.”

“That’s nice to hear. Congratulations.”

“But I’m curious. How is he doing after losing Ezinne?”

“Well, he’s healed. And moved on. He has a girlfriend now. Her name is Honey. Cool chick.”

If I didn’t know Mary like the smell of my own fart, I would have believed her crap. I clearly see the jealousy in her eyes. Bitch is still crazy about my man.

“I want to see him.”

Mary squeezes her face. “Why?”

“To apologize. My pastor says I should go around and mend bridges, especially with Jide. He said my past is holding me back from fully succeeding in life.”

“So…that is why you really came? Because of Jide?”

“No, May. I have put this off for a long time because I was scared you’ll turn me away. I’m back in your life for good. Or don’t you want me back?”

“I do. I’ve missed you.”

I place an arm on her shoulder and draw her into a partial hug. “Me too.”

“Let me call Jide…”

“And tell him I’m around? No, not now!”

“Don’t worry. I just want to tell him I want to see him. I doubt that he’ll have time for me sha. Since he started dating Honey, he’s been cut off from everybody.”

“Ah-ahn, why? I hope she’s not another Ezinne o. Let her not come and tear him away from his family and friends again.”

Mary gives the impression that I might be wrong but she doesn’t say anything to counter my words. I stay silent as she puts a call across to him. They converse briefly and she ends the call.

“He’s at home but it’s too late. We’ll see him tomorrow evening.”

“No wahala. It’s you I’ve missed, not him. So, let’s gist. Load my ears with everything that has happened in my absence. I heard fatty bombom is married?”

Mary laughs. “Yes, Bobby got married…”

Tuesday takes forever to come. And then I’m forced to endure waiting in Mary’s dreary house while she spends the whole day at work. When she returns, she showers and dresses in a pair of Ankara shorts which she terms casual. Wearing a plain black t-shirt on top does nothing to tone down her nicely-shaped onion butt which I’ve always envied.

“When did you start dressing like this, May?”

She laughs. “Celia and Noka literally changed my wardrobe. They stormed in here, took my clothes and dumped them in Noka’s car and drove off. Three days later, they returned with new clothes and now I’m owing them.”

Celia, Noka, Bimpe and Peace. I miss them. We used to be such good friends and I remember them fighting Jide when he dumped me for Ezinne. I’ll have to cozy up to them as well to win this battle of recapturing my king’s heart.

“Are you ready?” Mary asks. I nod. I pick my handbag that contains the voodoo box and we exit the house.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

We’re in a taxi outside Jide’s house. Without noticing that I’ve been paying attention, Mary has checked her reflection in the rearview mirror three times now. I promise myself to do away with her when Jide and I get back together.

“Let’s go in,” she tells me as she opens her door. I hesitate. “Let’s go,” she repeats.

“No.”

She is confused. “Why?”

“Because I just changed my mind. I don’t want to see him.”

“But you said your pastor said…”

“I just can’t, Mary. Not today. I’ll do this another time.”

“Tari, what’s going on? You dragged me to this visit and now you’re chickening out?”

I smile inwardly. She’s falling for my oh-I’ve-screwed-up-and-I-don’t-think-Jide-will-forgive-me act. Dense fool.

“Let’s go in jare. Jide doesn’t hate you.”

“Okay. But if he shouts on me or…”

“He won’t. Ah!”

“Okay, can you not mention that it was my idea? You could say you brought me so we can bury the past.”

“Okay.”

Good girl. Now, lead me like the faithful friend you are.

I alight from the taxi. There’s just one odd thing here, though. I don’t get Mary’s motives for readily agreeing to take me to see the guy she’s crazy about when she knows he has a girlfriend. What is she up to? Or wait…is the spell already working, causing the universe to work in my favor? Nice!

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

I slip into a t-shirt and shorts when I hear a knock on my door. I’m very curious as to why Mary wants to see me. She hadn’t sounded worried or sad on the phone yesterday. I hope she’s okay because really, I don’t have energy to handle anyone’s baggage today.

I turn the key in the lock and open the door. Shock is a mild word to aptly describe what I feel when I see Tarela standing beside Mary with this bewitching smile on her lips.

“Hi,” Mary greets. I pull her in and slam the door in Tarela’s face.

What did you bring to my house?”

“Relax. It’s just Tarela.”

Why did you bring her?”

“Because she desperately wanted to come and see you,” Mary whispers. “She has this touching story about mending broken fences from her past but I think she’s up to something, so just be sha careful.”

“Tell her to leave.”

“No nau. Act like you are oblivious of her games.”

“So that she’ll start stalking me? Hell no. She leaves.”

“Just pretend for this evening, Jide. Okay, we won’t stay long. Once she apologizes we’ll go.”

Just because it’s Mary asking, I let Tarela in.

“Hi, King.”

“It’s Jideofor.”

She goes on tiptoe and pecks my cheek. Her lips are cold.

“Hi. Sit.” I offer a couch and they both sit. I look at Mary curiously. What’s with the sexy dressing these days? The thirst for husband must be real.

“Can I get you ladies anything?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Mary replies.

I walk to the kitchen and return with some apple cider for them.

“So why are you here, Tarela?”

I sit and stare straight into her eyes. She hesitates before she speaks.

“I’m listening.”

She begins in a timid voice, telling me how sorry she is for all she did in the past, trying to ruin my relationship with Ezinne, stalking me and then trying to kill herself on my birthday.

“I forgave you long ago, Tarela. This visit is unnecessary.”

“I’m really sorry. It’s important that I hear you say you forgive me.”

“I forgive you. Are you happy?”

She smiles.

“See? I told you it was nothing,” Mary points out. Then off she goes into this lighthearted conversation about her boss at work, trying to lighten the mood. I remain silent throughout,wondering what the tattoos on Tarela’s body signify. They look eerie.

Finally, they announce that they are leaving but first Tarela says she wants to use the restroom. I point her to the guest bathroom.

“Don’t ever bring her here,” I tell Mary.

“I won’t. But you sef, you’re so mean. The only crime she committed is loving you.”

Tarela returns and I walk them to the door. She hugs me, lingering as she plants a kiss on my cheek and caresses a scar at the nape of my neck.

“Stop it.” I move back and give Mary a chummy hug.

In their absence, I pop open a bottle of beer and sit to watch TV. Something was very odd about that visit from Tarela but whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as her popping back into my life. Now she has cozied up to Mary. Next she’ll move on to the wives and then to the guys and I’ll be forced to see her psychotic face all the time.

tarela3

No, I don’t think I can handle the heat it will create. I just have to get Honey back.

©Sally@moskedapages

Image credits: Tumblr.com, Favim.com

It’s Another Saturday…#11

So, I had this episode of It’s Another Saturday since Saturday and I was like, I’ll post it on Monday because of the public holidays. But then on Monday, I think I forgot or something very stupid like that. Then I wanted to post it yesterday but I had another post scheduled. 

So, here it is…the bonus episode. Specially dedicated to erm…to you. You know yourself.

PREVIOUS EPISODES

Taken

I’m not listening to a word he’s saying. All I want is to just get away from him before my feelings turn to hate. I can’t even look into his eyes right now.

“Leave me alone, Jide.”

“Just listen to me. Let me explain. It’s a pretty, simple explanation…”

I shove away his hand resting on my arm and leave the house through the kitchen backdoor.

“Honey!” He comes after me and takes my hand again. “Smoochie, listen to me, please.”

I almost melt at the pet name he has just called me. This is following a heavy make out session earlier this morning in which we got caught by mommy and she gave us the third degree about the dangers of premarital sex.

“Let me go.” I wrestle but he holds me tighter and pulls me closer, wrapping his other arm around my waist. I take just one look into his eyes and I soften but it doesn’t stop the tears from spilling.

“You know you can trust me, Honey.”

“How? After what I just heard? Jide, that’s like the worst thing to do. I’m so disgusted at you right now. Leave me!”

I pry my hand off and walk away.

“You know I won’t go after you,” he says. “If you want to leave without hearing my side of the story, then go ahead.”

I stop and wipe my tears. Okay, maybe I need to hear him but after I’m done listening, I’ll go to his place, pack my things and leave his life. Sleeping with one’s sister-in-law? I just can’t deal.

I turn around and find myself almost in his arms. I step back. He clutches my hand once more and leads me back into the house. Daddy is in a very bad mood. He is ranting in Igbo. Everyone is dead quiet. Mommy has her chin in her hand as she stares at the floor with absent eyes. Tola has settled on a side stool, crying, but nobody pays her any mind. The moment Jide steps in, daddy’s tirade hits the roof. I don’t understand what he’s saying but I think he’s telling him to leave. Jide replies in Igbo, daddy fires back, Jide raises his voice as well, and mommy finally steps in.

“Let him talk, please,” she says to her husband exasperatedly.

Daddy grunts and slumps into a single couch behind him.

“You all want to know the truth,” Jide begins. “This is the uncut version of what happened between Tola and I. Tola, if you open your mouth while I’m talking, I’ll throw you out of this house like a rotten egg. Don’t say a word.”

I have never seen his face so icy. I lean on the wall behind me and listen to him.

“I met Tola at Bobby’s wedding party. We hit it off on the dancefloor. I told her my name, she told me hers. Family or dating history never came up. We ended up in a hotel room where we spent the night. By the next morning, when I woke up, she was gone, and she took my wallet, one of my phones and wristwatch, and then called me to tell me that she was Emeka’s fiancée. She said I was to make sure Emeka got married to her or she would expose that we slept with each other. She also told me she was already five weeks pregnant then. God being my witness, I did not know who she was prior to our meeting. Tola had revenge sex with me because Emeka cheated on her with her cousin. She had it all planned and I fell into the trap. My only crime here was sleeping with someone I didn’t know. I have confessed to Emeka. I told him everything but I am not responsible for his being absent today, although I am happy he is. Tola doesn’t deserve him.”

All eyes are on Tola now. “You knew who I was, Jideofor!” she rants. “Emeka sent you pictures of us!”

“Did I not tell you to close your mouth?!” Jide growls, advancing towards her. She shrinks back and he stops, but leaves a menacing glare on her.

“Omotola, can you dispute all Jide just said?” Kalu asks.

“Mm?”

“Did Jide just tell the truth about what happened between you two?”

Tola strikes a restless pose and I start to dislike her.

“Emeka and I were not technically together when I hooked up with Jide,” she answers in a mousy voice.

“Jesus Omotola! Or whatever your useless name is!” Elsie snaps. “You’re such a ho! And you stormed into this place, slapped Jideofor and made him out to be the villain when it was you who jumped from one brother to the other!”

“I didn’t mean to.” Tola launches into a fresh sob. I want to march to where she is and knock her off that stool this minute.

“Stop that very nonsense cry right there!” Daddy thunders. “What type of woman are you, sleeping with two brothers?! And you came here and made all of us fall in love with you when you had evil intent in your heart all along?!”

“No, daddy. I truly love Emeka.”

“Maybe a little too much,” mommy says in a gentle tone. I don’t see the anger in her eyes that everyone shares. She looks rather tired. “You’re obsessed, Tola. And it’s a bad thing for a woman to be that way with a man. It will make you do things you normally wouldn’t do.”

“Stop trying to understand the reasoning behind the abomination she has committed!” daddy tells his wife. “She is no longer welcome here! Omotola, get up from that place and leave my house this minute!”

Tola lets out a loud cry.

“Lawrence, please, calm down.”

“No! She leaves this minute! Get up, my friend!”

Tola vacates the stool but falls on her knees to plead. I want to feel sorry for her but I can’t. Not when I’m still mad at Jide for giving himself to other women so easily but denying me what is rightfully mine. This fight is so not over between us.

Tola, snake that she is, has crawled up to mommy’s feet and is putting up the shoddiest act, still making the whole thing about her.

“Woman, you are defying my orders by letting this wicked human being stain my floor with her crocodile tears!”

“Mommy, let her go, please,” Elsie begs. “The marriage is off. Her tears are unnecessary.”

Tola moans pathetically and throws herself on mommy’s laps. Mommy rubs her back and looks at her husband dolefully. Daddy doesn’t budge.

“Obasi, call the gateman to come and throw her out!”

Tola screams again, holding mommy tightly. “Mommy, help me beg him!”

As Oba heads for the door, it pushes in from outside and Emeka walks into the house. To everyone’s surprise, he is dressed in his wedding attire.

“Where have you been, Chukwuemeka?” mommy demands. Emeka doesn’t give an answer. He walks further and stands before everyone with a smile.

“I have a son!” he announces.

At first there is silence and then Elsie lets her baby down and gives him a hug.  “Congratulations, darling!”

Mommy cracks a proud smile and calls him over as tears flood her face. When he bends to hug her, he pinches Tola’s cheek and mutters something to her. With the atmosphere suddenly changed, we all congratulate him, except daddy who retains his anger and cold mood.

“Tola,” Emeka calls, “it was this good news I was trying to share with you on the phone this morning but you heard the name Yazmin and totally flipped and concluded the wedding was off.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Tola stands up. “I didn’t know.”

“Well maybe next time, you should try not to listen to that resident demon in your head.”

“I think they’re more than one demon, Chukwuemeka,” daddy comments. “And that is why the wedding will not hold anymore. There is no way I’ll sit back as your father and watch you marry this woman.”

Tola walks to Emeka and puts her arms around him. They look cute together in their matching attire. Why do I have a feeling that they were once crazy in love?

“Help me beg him, Mex. Beg mommy and everyone else too. I’m so sorry for what I did with Jide. I’m very sorry. I was desperate. And I’m begging you too. Please forgive me.”

Tola goes on her knees again. She holds Emeka’s sokoto and resumes her sniveling.

“Oh well, the secret is out,” Emeka addresses everyone. “Tola really screwed up but I’m taking the blame for this one too.”

“Emeka?” Elsie whispers.

“Please, let me talk.” He focuses on his father. “When we were growing up, dad, you taught us that one of the things that makes a man is when he keeps to his word. You also told me that integrity is more valuable than money. I have lost my integrity, dad. I’ve messed up in many ways. With Tola, with Yazmin, with all of you. All I have left is my word. And I wanna keep it. I promised this woman here, a long time ago, that I’ll be her husband and I’ll keep that promise today. I’ve broken one heart already today; I can’t break another. What type of father would I be to my son if I go around treating women less than they deserve? Yes, Tola slept with Jide but that was only because I screwed around too. She is not this person you see here. A lot has happened between us to get her to this point. It never used to be like this. She was my best friend and was constantly there for me. I loved her and though, I don’t feel that way now, I know we can get back what we lost. I have forgiven her for what she did with Jide and I’m ready to start all over but we need your blessing – again.”

“I don’t approve.” Daddy shakes his head. “I’m sorry, son.”

“Dad, please. Your permission means a lot to us. You’ve been in my life from the first day. Don’t leave me now.”

We all look daddy’s way. He is still shaking his head.

“You want to build your home on a faulty foundation, Chukwuemeka, and I won’t allow it.”

“Daddy, please.” Tola is out of fake tears now. I think I see genuine regret on her face. I’m not sure. The girl is hard to understand.

“No.” daddy gives his final word. He stands again and begins up the stairs. Mommy also stands.

“Lawrence,” she calls, “it’s not like she committed adultery.”

Daddy stops.

“Even those who commit adultery find forgiveness from those they hurt. Emeka has said he has forgiven her. Why should we stop their happiness?”

Daddy turns and locks eyes with mommy in silence.

“Biko,” she drops one last plea.

Daddy lifts his head and stares up the ceiling as if in communication to God, and lets it down in a sigh.

“Chukwuemeka, I’m doing this because of your mother.”

“Thank you. Thank you, mom.”

“Get up, Omotola.”

Emeka helps Tola up and she rushes into mommy’s arms for a comforting hug. The old woman blesses them in prayer, removing any curse that looms over them due to their sins. She calls on God to make them fruitful and prosper the work of their hands. Daddy’s prayer is less extravagant, but he gives his blessing, nonetheless. I’m amazed and touched by this family’s love and forgiving spirit. I don’t think my family would do the same if they were in their shoes. This makes me love Jide more, knowing he has such awesome parents.

“Okay!” Kalu lifts his hand to check the time on his watch. “I think we have a wedding to attend.”

“Before we leave, Tola, there’s one more person you need to apologize to. And from today, you are not allowed to call him by his name. He is either Uncle Jide or Brother Jide or Dede or just De.”

“Yes, ma.” Tola nods and presents herself to Jide in a meek manner. “I’m sorry, Uncle Jide.”

Uncle Jide keh. After knowing each other carnally. I’d like to see how things go from now on. The whole thing still makes my head woozy.

“And please, I beg all of you,” mommy adds, “that what has been revealed here today does not leave this house. This should be one family secret that we take to our graves.”

We all agree with her. As Kalu directs everyone into waiting cars outside, Jide strolls to me. I turn my face away.

“Are you still vexing?”

“I am. Everybody seems to have had a taste of you, except me. I’m supposed to be smiling about that?”

He laughs and takes my waist. I push him away.

“Stop fronting jor.”

I ignore him as I head for the front door. He follows me and forces his arms around me from behind, lifting me off my feet. I squeal. He leaves wet kisses on my neck and shoulders, right in the presence of daddy who doesn’t seem impressed by the brazen display of affection.

“That is how you people will doing now,” he grouches. “After una go say una no wan do again. Na only God go judge all of you.”

Jide lets me down and we join the others outside. Kalu has us in the backseat of Oba’s car. There’s a cousin in front with Oba and they kick off with some gossip about some family member while Jide and I carry on our PDA.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look, smoochie? Like I seriously want to eat you, right now.”

“Stop teasing, Jideofor. You’re such a tempter.”

He grins wickedly and pokes me in my sides. I can’t help but scream.

“Do I park the car and we wait outside till you guys are done?” Oba asks but Jide motions to him to face the road, and then he goes for my lips. Oh, sweet paradise on earth! This man is such a good kisser.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

tola

Tola got what she wanted at last. I hope she’s happy. Despite all the drama, tears and heartbreak, the traditional and white weddings are going down in history as the weddings that shut the city down. Did I mention that Emeka and Tola have a lot of influential friends? I didn’t know, being that I’ve been away for five years. Tola’s younger sister, Morenike, who is the manager of a multi award-winning rapper made sure she literally dragged the entertainment industry to both events. Then let’s not forget Novocaine Knights and the job they did as event planners. They have become so much of a household brand that people just pop up anywhere their name is mentioned and since the weddings were not strictly by invitation, the reception halls were packed to the rafters.

Honey and I have a good time, especially at the second reception. She loves to dance as much as I do, and we make the most of the dancefloor. At some point we are so lost in each other, the world around us just disappears into fuzzy colors and distant music. She alone is alive in my vista and for a passing moment I look into her eyes and see the woman I saw in my dreams while I was on my sickbed.

But like I said, a passing moment. Everything comes back to reality when I spot Mary being led by Reno out of the reception hall. She is limping and I can see blood gushing down her left leg. I hand Honey over to Bobby and leave the hall. I find Reno and Mary by a tap outside. She has her leg under running water.

“What happened?” I ask. Mary looks down. She doesn’t reply.

“Some idiot cut her with a sharp metal he was carrying.”

“Let me see.” I bend down. Mary pulls her leg away. “Let me see, madam.”

I take the leg and notice that it’s a deep cut.

“You’ll have to stitch this. Does it hurt?”

“Like hell.”

“Pele. Reno, abeg you fit use your car carry her go hospital?”

Reno apologizes. “You know say I suppose don dey work by now sef.

“I can handle myself.” Mary sits on a slab nearby.

“Handle yourself, how? You can’t even stand. Let’s not forget the risk of a tetanus infection.”

I stretch my neck to peer out the street. It’s already dark and I doubt that we would easily get a cab out there. I remember Oba had parked his car where he can access it later with no troubles. I tell Mary to wait while I go get him. Luckily, I find him yarning with some chick in a corner, just outside the entrance of the hall. He hands me his key, the look on his face telling me to handle my shit by myself. I stall. I’m still very uneasy behind the wheel but I don’t want to bug anyone else. I look at Mary; she is in a lot of pain. I breathe in and make the brave decision to take her to the nearest hospital after telling Oba to inform Honey of my whereabouts.

We get into Oba’s car. Mary looks at me as my hand shakes when it aims for the ignition. She touches me.

“You can do it, Jide. Just blank out that night.”

She doesn’t understand. I can’t blank out the most dreadful night of my life. I had experienced the type of horror one only watched in movies. I saw death coming and could do nothing about it. I recall Ezinne’s screams and how she ordered me to start the car as a trailer out of control sped towards us. But my hand had frozen over the ignition and I couldn’t move a single muscle. The last I remember hearing was her hair-raising scream before we got smashed into by the trailer. I can never forget that night. This is my first time behind the wheel since the incidence.

Mary’s hand squeezes mine. “Start the car, Jide.”

Still shaking, I turn the ignition and the car fires up. I can hardly feel myself breathe as I put the car into gear and slowly ease it out of its parked spot. It is with nerve I steer it through the tight street and unto a freer highway. At first, I drive like an old man who can’t see the night clearly but with Mary encouraging me to let go, I ease up a little. Still, I’m not sure I can do this another time.

“That’s a hospital,” Mary points out her window at an imposing structure in front of us.

“It’s a General Hospital,” I respond.

“I don’t care. Let’s just go in. I can’t stand this pain.”

I find a parking space in the hospital premises and help Mary in. Unfortunately for us, we have come in at a wrong time. An accident that had just occurred down the road with a lot of casualties has taken most of the doctors on duty. Mary and I are forced to sit and wait. Even the nurses won’t attend to us after we register.

“Let’s go somewhere else. I’m sure there’s a private clinic around.”

“I’ll wait,” Mary insists.

And so we wait. For the first time in our friendship, we have nothing to say to each other. I feel Mary wants to bring up the incidence that has put this wedge between us but she’s too nervous. And I don’t want to talk about it either.

“Nurse!” I call a nurse passing by. “How far nau? My friend is bleeding here!”

“Ehen? You didn’t see other people waiting? Or is it because you’re wearing shine-shine we should answer you first?”

I frown. She is a disgrace to my profession. I’d like to tell her that but I try a different tactic as I go after her.

“Excuse me, nurse.”

She stops and eyes me. “What is it! I’m busy, abeg! ”

“I know that. And that’s why I’m asking if it’s okay to dress and stitch my friend’s injury myself? I’m a certified nurse and midwife.”

She looks at me from top to bottom, claps her hands together and laughs. “Nothing wey I no go hear for dis place.”

I take out my wallet and pull out my ID. Curiosity erases her earlier expression and she gives me a second look. I put out my charming face that has nothing to do with a smile. She melts.

“Midwife keh.” She smiles. “This is new o. Oya come this way.”

She leads me to a room where she hands me a tray complete with everything I’ll need to fix Mary’s leg. At the same time she checks me out and becomes self-conscious when she decides I’m hot enough to spark something in her. Side note: I’m not that hot.

“You can bring your friend here.”

“Thanks.”

I rush out and return with Mary. The nurse has forgotten that she’s busy as she hangs around to see if I know what I’m doing. By the time I begin cleaning the wound, she mutters to herself and disappears.

“Jide…” Mary winces.

“Yeah, boo.”

“I’m sorry for what happened.”

“Don’t break your head over that morning, Mary. I’ve forgotten it.”

“Seriously, I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

“Sex, maybe?”

She laughs. “Okay. Yes, that.”

“It would have been a disaster afterwards if we did it.”

“I guess so. Or we would end up falling for each other.”

“I already have fallen for someone else, Mary.”

“I know. I’m just saying.”

“But you were willing to throw away your vow of celibacy just to have me?”

“I didn’t make any vow but I’m not making any excuses for what I did either. I screwed up.”

“Okay, this will hurt, boo. Little Ms. Bitchy Nurse didn’t give me any local anesthesia, so bite on my shoulder or something. I’m about to stitch you up.”

Mary rests her hand on my shoulder and I send in the needle through her flesh. She groans.

“That sound is so sexual,” I tease to ease her pain. She laughs and hits me. “Is that how you would have been moaning if we…?”

She lets out again as I make another stitch but this time she is less loud.

“You’re just a wicked soul, Olajideofor.”

“I know, boo. I’m sorry but I’ll forever tease you for that dangerous stunt you pulled because I know one day you’ll get over this silly crush and find a better man.”

“It’s that supposed to be consoling?”

“It should.”

“It isn’t.”

“I know. By the way, nice peaks.”

She pulls my ear; I drive in the needle mercilessly. She screams. I think I hit a really sore spot.

“Sorry.”

I finish the work quickly but neatly, and then I cover the area to prevent infection.

“One last ouch,” I say as I prepare a tetanus shot for her. “Left arm, please.”

She turns but I can’t get to the spot on her arm that I need to inject. “Can I unzip your blouse?” I ask.

“Yeah, torture me some more.”

I smile unnoticeably as I unzip her to let her sleeve down.

I administer the shot. “It will hurt for some days. Please, don’t rub it.”

“Okay.”

I let the zip up again. “Feel better?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Jide.”

“You’re welcome.”

I clean up the mess I’ve made in the tray and turn to see the nurse and two of her colleagues at the door, staring. God knows how long they’ve been standing there.

They all smile at me. The first nurse comes with a file and asks me to fill details of Mary’s treatment, after which she signs her own name. She scribbles on a medication leaflet and passes the leaflet to Mary. As we leave, she asks for my number. I don’t want to be rude, so I give her Honey’s.

“I’ll call you,” she promises as we walk away.

Back on the street, we hit traffic. I start to worry about Honey worrying about me. I would call her but my phone is in her purse. I ask Mary for hers; she tells me she’s out of battery life. We endure the traffic and talk while music plays on the radio. By the time we get to the reception venue, almost everyone is gone. None of my family members are present. I take Mary home and go to my parents’ to drop Oba’s car. There’s a little party there and they invite me to stay but I tell them I need to rest. They inform me Honey left about an hour ago.

I hitch a cab home. As usual, there’s no electricity. It has become the norm in my area these days. As I hike up the stairs, I grumble to myself about being too lazy to service my overworked generator. I let myself into the house and I’m welcomed by the fragrance of scented candles. Honey is not in the sitting room. I find her in my bedroom which is illuminated by candles and moon rays streaming in from one of the windows. She is lying beneath the covers and for a second I think she’s asleep but she stirs.

“You’re back,” she says, without turning.

“I’m sorry, Honey,” I say as I take off my clothes. “Mary got injured and I had to take her to the hospital where I ended up treating her myself. On our way back, we ran into traffic and by the time we got back to the venue, everyone was gone. I’m really sorry.”

Honey stays silent. I sit on the bed, unable to resist the beauty of her silhouette beneath the covers. Without asking, I slip in behind her. I hear her let out a naughty giggle. It isn’t until my hand mistakenly brushes against her nude butt that I realize she is completely naked.

“Honey?”

She turns around and kisses me.

“I thought nudity was not allowed,” I remind her.

“The thing is,” she says, drawing lines on my chest, “I’m leaving for London tomorrow night.”

My brows pull together. “Why?”

“I got a letter from management at work. I’m to come and face a disciplinary panel to explain why I assaulted that woman.”

“Didn’t they already do that?”

“No.”

“But they’ve already suspended you nau. What else do they want?”

“Just normal procedure. The bad news is that I might get my job back and be asked to resume immediately.”

There’s some sadness in her voice.

“Actually, that’s good news, Honey.” I gawk at her lovely face. The glow of the moon gives her a subtle radiance.

“I don’t want to go,” she confesses. “When will I see you again?”

I pull her into my arms; she lifts her head to search my eyes. She wants an answer to her question. I have nothing to say except that I’m going to miss her. I brush my lips over hers gently; my hands feel the smoothness of her bare skin. It is not good for my sanity. I disengage from her clutch and leave the bed. She laments with a moan that drives me directly into arousal.

“I’m sorry, smoochie. I just can’t. I…”

My voice vanishes instantly as she sits up in one swoop and throws the covers off her chest. This is the first time I’m seeing her breasts. Oh sweet lawd! I’m in love!

I’m a tit man. I was breastfed for two years and my mom said from then on I had this habit of grabbing boobs until my dad caned the addiction out of me at the turn of my fourth birthday. Well, he caned the body but not the soul. I still remain loyal. And this is my adulation of my girlfriend’s double D’s—voluptuous, rounded, taut, jutting, heavy, achingly swollen and throbbing. And her nipples—plump, flushed, peaked, pulsing, and of course, waiting. Who knew there were such pleasures beneath all the bras and clothes?

Ladies, my advice to you: STOP. WEARING. BRAS. Really, stop.

“You know I’m leaving tomorrow,” Honey purrs coquettishly and rises to a kneeling position, exposing the lower part of her beautifully-sculpted body. I take two as my eyes fall on her clean-shaven V. I try to look elsewhere. No, actually, I don’t.

“Why are you doing this to me, smoochie?”

She thrusts her lips in a dangerous pucker that snips the last strand of my resistance. My mom’s counsel echoes in my ears but only faintly. Right now, all I want is a dip in Honey’s pot. I dive into the bed and take her down with me. She squeals but I shut her up with just a touch. She hums and purrs all at once, the sound driving me wild.

“Oh, Jide…”

She bites her lip and drives her fingernails hard into my skin.

“How long has it been?” I ask, my lips between hers.

“Two years.” She’s breathing hard, shivering at each touch.

“Oh, you’re so going to get it.”

I kiss my way down her body. It’s going to be a long night. Tomorrow she’ll be gone and I’ll face the four walls of my loneliness again. How do I stop myself from the emptiness that will fill my days? This woman has brought so much meaning in my life in such a short time. Is there a way I can keep her with me?

She giggles. I’ve touched a sensitive spot.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes and squeals again. “I’m sorry. I’m just so sensitive.”

I stop what I’m doing to stare at her. “Don’t go.”

“What?” she lifts herself up on her elbows.

“Honey, don’t go. You hate that job. You hate the life. It’s taken so much from you and it’s about to take us too. Don’t go.”

“Oh, Jide.” She holds a fistful of her hair and falls back on the bed. “Let’s not talk now. Please! Or I’ll rape you!”

“You said you wanted to start your own travel agency. Kalu can help you with that. There’s no business on this earth he can’t set up.”

“Okay, good. I’ll talk to him but for now, please no more words, Jideofor Onuora.”

She drags me back and locks her legs around me. With hot kisses and ravenous strokes of my aching bulge, she silences me. We devour each other like wildlings. Beneath her sweet, calm exterior is a dirty, sassy lover who takes me and my nastiness without baulking. Her waist is a dangerous tool that undoes me in so many ways. I’m usually not this intense with a woman. Sex, before this, was skillful, yet empty, a way to fill lonely nights that were always plagued with insomnia or nightmares. There was never intensity; it was always detached. But in Honey I don’t need to impress. I close my eyes and I freefall. I don’t need to give. She takes, reaching into me and bringing out that part I have long buried. Nobody needs to tell me I’m in love again.

I hold her tight when we’re done.

“I love you, Jide,” she says in a slur as she shuts her eyes in sleep. I doze off after her and wake up at the rise of daylight. She’s still in my arms. If only there’s a way I can merge her soul with mine and keep her with me.

I hear a sniffle. I pull back and look into her face. She’s sobbing. I say nothing. There has to be a way to keep us together and I’ll find it.

Mom, you’re wrong about this one. Nobody can take her away from me.

jide

©Sally@moskedapages

Image Credits: solomonpatrick.blogspot.com, onewed.com

It’s Another Saturday…#10

Afternoon!

Just a quick notice. I realized some of you keep visiting my old blog moskeda.wordpdess.com. Well it doesn’t exist anymore. To search for me on Google, add moskedapages to lead you here or you might end up in 360nobs where I also write. Also the lounge has been open for a while. The private posts can’t be viewed by anyone except me, so don’t think I’m giving special people access.         

Just make this place your one stop for all moskedapages stories. 

Thanks! 

And now here’s a fresh episode of It’s Another Saturday

   The Bride Wrecker

Dele’s wife can be a pain in my ass sometimes. How can one be on the phone for three hours talking about nothing but asoebi, gele and designer clothes? And I dare not tell her I’m sleepy or she’ll give me the silent treatment for a whole week. I have to sit and listen to her patiently. God bless me if I don’t have an opinion about Vera Wang or Chanel. She’ll go “I don’t know how I’m even friends with you. You’re just anyhow.

“Anyhow” means that I’m not stylish. But everyone knows I am. She just likes making me feel inadequate when it comes to my fashion taste because I’m finer than her.

“So how far with Dele and you people’s fight?” I ask from nowhere, cutting off her un-ending gripe about Caitlyn Jenner.

She hisses. “He’s not talking me. Since yesterday. Just because I told him that if he doesn’t give me the money for my business, I’m going to borrow it from elsewhere. He now started raking that he knows I want to ask my ex. I told him to stop shouting like a market man. He sparked and walked out of the house. He’s not back yet. Like who even cares. All I want is my money abeg.”

I shake my head. Married people and their problems.

“When he comes back, just apologize. Then get your knees dirty.”

She mocks. “Na wa o, Hon. You’re extremely horny. The way you’ve been going on about sex these past few days…”

“Abeg shut up. I’m giving you good advice here.”

“You think sex works on men like that. Wait till you get married nau. You will cook food, give brain, give kitty, wait on him hands and feet and still he will do what he feels like. A way to man’s heart is not through the places you’ve been told.”

“It’s through where then?”

“They don’t have hearts. That’s what nobody told us.”

I erupt into uncontrollable laughter. Faintly I hear a knock on the front door. This is my opportunity to zap.

“Babe, I have to go. Jide is back.”

“Wow. It’s twelve midnight already. We actually talked for three hours, bestie. Next time you’ll be the one doing the calling o. I can’t be spending thousands on recharge card like that.”

“Okay, baby. Bye…”

“Wait! How far with you and your sexless boyfriend?”

I have dreaded her popping this question. “We’ll talk next time. Byeee!”

I hang up and jolt up from the bed as I hear another knock. Did Jide forget his key? He usually lets himself in without knocking.

I hurry to the door, pumping up my breasts. I’m very dogged on my mission to get laid by him. So far, he has kept his promise not to make love to me and it’s getting me all sorts of frustrated. Just this morning, I lost my cool and told him how how horny I was. He laughed, told me he thought I sounded adorable. Then on he went and kissed me senseless, leaving me wanting him even more. How can a man be so wicked?

I open the door and thrust my cleavage out.

“Hi.”

There’s a petite girl standing before me. The seductive smile she has on her face disappears when it meets my frown. I stare down at her. She’s wearing this very transparent tank top that makes no attempt to hide her attention-seeking nipples. The view is so bad I can tell that the color of her areola is dark copper red. She is also wearing the smallest skirt I have seen on a female other than a stripper.

“Jide is not in,” I reply her greeting.

“Oh. He told me he was home. I’m his neighbor; I live upstairs.”

“Okay. Well, he’s not in. Is there any reason why you’re here?”

“Yeah…” She shifts her eyes uneasily.

“I came to erm…borrow pressing iron.”

“Pressing iron,” I repeat. “But there’s no light. Or do you have light in your house?”

“No. I was planning to use it in the morning when they bring the light.”

“Why don’t you wait till then to borrow it?” I suggest as politely as I can. I see her struggling with a comeback and tell myself I’m unnecessarily being a bitch.

“My name is Honey, by the way. Jide’s girlfriend.”

“I’m Ele.”

“Do you want to come in?” Curiosity invades my mind. “Looks like you can’t sleep. I can’t, either. And I need company.”

“Erm…”

“I’ll pop champagne,” I say sweetly. She smiles and I let her in. As she walks past me, I check her out. Not bad.

I turn on a rechargeable lantern and we sit with our glasses of champagne.

“So for how long have you been sleeping with Jide?”

Champagne spills from her mouth. I wait for her to clean the mess without taking my eyes off her.

“We’re not… There’s nothing between us.”

“Come on, Ele. See how you dressed up to come and ask for pressing iron.”

“Seriously, we’re not doing anything.”
I pierce her eyes.

“Okay. We were having sex but the last time was like three weeks ago. I swear I didn’t know he had a girlfriend. He never told me.”

“So you guys haven’t done anything lately?”

“No. We’ve not even seen for two weeks now.”

“Okay. I believe you.” I take a sip from my glass. She puts hers down.

“Can I go? I have to go out early tomorrow.”

“Just one more thing. Can you describe how you guys do it? In detail.”

She looks at me like I’ve gone mad. She stands. “Please, can I just go?”

She guns for the door and is out before I can say one more word. I hate myself for what I’ve just done. This is my dark side – the jealous, untrusting, possessive girlfriend. Jide doesn’t deserve this side of me. He’s the awesomest boyfriend ever. In the beginning, I was very certain that we’d be hitting the sheets in the first few days and had gone ahead to play the seductress, but Jide pretty much did everything loving boyfriends do without going down south. In a disturbing confession while we were both baring out issues that could stand in the way of our relationship, he revealed that he had slept with an alarming number of women. He refused to give a figure and told me it was for my own sanity. However he assured me that he was done with his past and was in no hurry honeyofor1to get in my pants. In his words, “I want it to be special when it happens.”
Anyways I gave up tempting him for some days and simply enjoyed the moments we spent together, which wasn’t so hard. The truth is Jide makes loving him very easy. He begins each new day with a new pet name for me and then he would find some untouched place on my body to kiss without being immodest. His touch always leaves me weak, from the manner in which his hand caresses me awake every morning to the moments when we sit cuddled up and he trails his fingertips over my palms and kisses them afterwards.
Somehow he knows nerve-endings on my skin that I never even knew existed.

And then he’s playful too, just as I am, and sometimes we get really rough until someone ends up getting hurt. For example, a week ago I gave him a swollen lip during a pillow fight and had to compensate with a foot massage afterwards. He fell asleep in the process and I stayed awake watching him and wondering what it was about him that made me so invested in my feelings. Afterwards I freaked out that things might go terribly for us. I’ve always been unlucky in love, having all my exes cheat on me unapologetically. Hence, I’m scared that this won’t last, and this was why I resumed playing the seductress a couple of days ago. I need the assurance lovemaking brings. If Jide can be so affectionate without sex, imagine how much loving I’ll get when he eventually makes love to me.

I finish the whole bottle of champagne in an attempt to drown my frustration. I find no respite. I go to bed and sleep it all off.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

mexmex2

Jide’s family is going all out for this wedding. The souvenirs alone cost them a fortune. All morning I’ve been packaging customized tokens, all of which are designer label. No one souvenir box has the same set of gifts. Kalu’s wife, Elsie, joins me halfway and lifts the burden off my shoulders a great deal. She is chatty and pleasant but very observant of everything around her. She keeps me entertained with stories of the family and about how she never used to get along with Mommy. She describes the old woman as being difficult then. Somehow through the years they learned to accept and love each other.

“Jide’s her favorite,” Elsie mentions, “so you’re lucky that she likes you. She didn’t like Ezinne.”

This is the third time that name has popped up since I began dating Jide. I once asked him about her and he explicitly told me she was a topic he was never going to discuss. I know she’s dead but I’m more interested in knowing about who she was when she was alive.

“Ezinne was a video vixen. God! She was sexy as hell. I was even envious of her at some point. She had the perfect body. Sculpted.” Elsie describes with hand gestures. “Nne was very sure she wouldn’t stay faithful to Jide. She preferred his ex, Tarela. In short, everyone wanted him with Tarela, including his friends.”

“Why?” I ask as I place a pair of bling coffee mugs in a souvenir box.

“Ezi was snobbish. Very stuck-up. And her parents weren’t even that rich. She was so hung up on her beauty. Guys were toasting her up and down and she was treating Jide like shit. They were constantly fighting over it.”

“And Tarela?”

“Worse. Crazy, possessive bitch. But none of us knew until she came to Jide’s birthday party and slashed her throat in front of everyone.”

“Oh my God! Did she die?”

“No.”

“Where is she now?”

“Only God knows.”

Elsie and I continue our work in silence. I have more questions to ask but Mommy has just joined us at the table to have a late breakfast.

“Honey, when it’s your turn, we’ll do a lot more than this for you and Jide,” Mommy promises.

“Calm down, Nne,” Elsie tells her. “They just started dating.”

“I know. But I am very certain that they’ll walk down the aisle this year.”

“This year?”

“Why not?”

Elsie shrugs. I simply maintain a plain expression.

“Mommy?”

We all turn. Tola has appeared at the doorway in her nightgown. She’s wearing a pale face.

“How are you, angel?” Mommy asks.
“Come over.”

Tola walks to her and pulls a chair to sit beside her. She rests her head on the table and I see tears spill from her eyes.

“Aww, my daughter,” my mom rubs her back. “You should stop crying. God gives, God takes away. He will give you another baby in due time. Just put the past behind you and thank God for giving you a husband and a family that loves you. Jesus will perfect all that concerns you in time.”

“Emeka has been acting cold towards me. As if I intentionally lost the baby.”

“Tola, be patient with him. He’s under a lot of stress.”

“Me nko? Are we not going through the same thing?”

“I know, my daughter. I know. Just be patient.” She takes her hand. “Come let me make breakfast for you.”

“I’ve eaten already.” Tola sits up. “Can you please ask the maid to come and help me pack my things? My aunt is already scolding me for not being at home.”

“Okay. I’ll tell her. Still, come. I want to show you something.”

Elsie and I watch as mother and daughter-in-law leave.

“Interesting,” Elsie mutters. “It’s ironic that Tola has charmed everyone in this house except the one person she should be charming.”

I smile.

“Why do I have this feeling that the miscarriage was fake as was the pregnancy?”

I reply nothing.

“Well, it’s their business.”

Elsie is about to launch into another family gossip but Jide and Kalu walk in, carrying the items requested by the Adeniyis for Tola’s engagement to Emeka.

“You got everything?” Elsie asks.

“Yeah,” Jide replies and looks at me. He winks. I have not seen him all day.

“And the bride price?”

Jide passes an envelope to Elsie. “Ten thousand dollars. All complete.”

I almost drop what I have in my hands.

“Why is it so much?” I ask. “That’s almost two million naira.”

“It’s not much,” Kalu says. “Ask the madam that is sitting next to you how much I paid on her head.”

Elsie bats long eyelashes at him.

“Besides, Emeka is inheriting half of Tola’s father’s hospital, so it’s good investment in the end.”

“But I feel like when families ask for so much money as bride price, they’re literally selling their daughters.”

All three of them disagree. “See it this way,” Jide contributes. “The higher the bride price, the more treasured the bride. When you go into a designer shop and get an expensive dress, you don’t treat it anyhow. It’s the dress that you spent next to nothing on that you easily forget.”

His analogy makes sense but I hold my argument. “A man who has spent so much on a designer item and ends up not getting his money’s worth is going to feel cheated in the end.”

“You have a point,” Elsie concurs.

“Anyways, in the Yoruba culture, the bride price is not just for the bride alone. It’s for children and elders and wives in the family. Several envelopes are given.” Jide explains. “Which is no different from how the Igbos do it. Although, with the Igbos, what the different age groups are given may not necessarily be money. Every group demands its own list of items.”

“How is it done in your side, Honey?” Kalu asks me.

“It’s not quite different, really, although the list is not much. However, people are beginning to demand as much in bride price as the Igbos do.”

“I guess it’s a Nigerian thing now. Times are hard.”

We all laugh. Jide comes behind me and delivers a kiss on my earlobe. I shyly push him away. He drags me up on my feet and asks that we be excused. We go up to his room where he has me pinned to the wall and my lips loved by his. I want him badly but I put a lid on my urges.

“I missed you,” he tells me as he makes circles with his finger on the small of back.

“Me too.”

“I was very busy at work. But I’m free for the entire weekend and we’ll have mad fun.” He bites my lower lip and kisses all the way down to my collarbone where he stops and pulls away. I sigh in displeasure. He’s hiding a very healthy boner which I have just felt.

“I want to take a shower,” he informs me and turns towards the bathroom.

While he showers, I try, for the second time, the outfit I’ll be wearing for the traditional wedding tomorrow. I look really dashing in it. Mommy’s tailor is badass. I admire myself in front of the mirror for a long time. The moment I take off the clothes and I’m left in nothing but my bra and thong, Jide steps out of the bathroom. He pauses for a second and then walks past me to the wardrobe without a word.

I’m miffed by his reaction but I don’t react. I slip back into my dress and sit on the bed to stare at him. I’m going to be honest here, I find Jide tantalizingly hot. He’s not ripped per se but he’s fit and very masculine. Then he has this thin coat of fine hair over his body that my hands can’t get enough of. And of course, he’s packing as well. I haven’t seen the goods yet but I can tell that he’s not a little boy down there.

“You’re not going to lose me to another man if we have sex,” I blurt out.

He spins around to look at me. I hate the amused expression he has on.

“I love you, Jide. I know it’s too early to say it but I think what I feel is love. I’ve only felt this way once in my life, so I know I’m for real when it comes to my feelings for you. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t be afraid…”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then why won’t you make love to me?”

“Because, Honey, sex is not everything in a relationship. And I thought we were having a good time. These past two weeks have been amazing. You’re more than heaven to me right now. Sex will just ruin everything.”

“It won’t. We’ll love each other more.”

“That’s a gamble.”

“It’s not fair!” I lose my calm. “Am I
not attractive enough?”

“Haba! Don’t talk like that.”

“Then what is it? You find it easy sleeping with other girls, including your next door neighbor.”

His countenance drops. Oops! I shouldn’t have brought Ele up.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing,” I reply but change my mind. “No, it’s not nothing. I feel cheated. You can sleep with Ele and any other girl out there but you won’t touch me? It makes me feel unwanted and unattractive. If my boyfriend can live in the same house with me and nothing happens between us, then I’ve failed as a woman. And it also means he might be getting it elsewhere.”

Jide is cut by my words. I can see that in his eyes. He takes a while to speak.

“Should I be worried about you?”

“Worried about me? How?”

“Do you have trust issues?”
I know Ele has said something to him.

“Ele called you, right?”

“You didn’t answer my question, Honey.”

“Yes, I have trust issues but I’m seriously working on them. The thing that happened with Ele… I’m sorry. I just… It won’t happen again.”

“Ele and I are over, Honey. I made it clear to her several times but she’s stubborn. When she called me last night, I lied that I was home. I wanted her to come and see you because she thinks I’m one of those guys who keep sidechicks. I expected you to handle her maturely.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You actually did handle her the way she deserved but I can’t say the same about the way you’re treating me right now.”

“Don’t make this about you, Jide. I’m the one unsure of where I stand in this relationship.”

“So you think sex will secure a place for you in my heart?”

I avoid his eyes. He sits beside me and tilts my chin up to gaze into my face.

“You’re not going to be a statistic, sexy legs.”

“You’re sure you’re not sleeping with someone else?”

“I’ll never do that to you.”

I force myself to believe him. If this relationship is to go anywhere, I guess I’ll have to trust him.

“No half-naked girl will show up at the door again?”

He laughs. I don’t find it funny. My mind has already conjured images of him going over to Ele’s place to have sex with her while I wait downstairs like a faithful housewife who gets none from her man.

“No more surprises, sexy legs.”

I stare at him fixedly. I really do want to believe him.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

“You dey lie abeg!”

I sip my beer and smack my lips as the cold liquid streams down my throat. My friends do not believe I have not slept with Honey. Bobby is the only one who takes my word for it.

“Bobby, you don see the babe?” Reno asks.

“Yeah.”

“Yes, he has,” I reply.

“How person go get dat kain woman for house and hin no enter am? Jide, you dey lie!”

I simply smile and sip my beer again. It’s Emeka’s bachelor party, organized by his friends. Emeka seems to be having a blast. It’s good to see him in his element.

“But I no understand you, Jydo,” Ibro speaks up. “Why you no wan touch the babe?”

“It’s simple,” Bright replied. “He doesn’t want to make her a bride.”

“Oh!” they all exclaim at the same time, and then make fun of me with unnecessary jibes. I give my alcohol my full attention.

“That’s not my reason,” I say.

“Wetin come be your reason?” Reno queries.

“It’s personal, guys. Switch topic abeg.”

I seriously don’t want to have to explain to anyone that the main reason I’m not sexual with Honey is because I’m on a journey to claiming back my self-control. I have probably slept with more women than the average guy has. It’s something I am not proud of, a history I want to quickly forget. What I’m building with Honey will not be belittled by mere physical pleasures that fade away so easily. I want to know her inside-out. It’s sad that she doesn’t trust me enough to see that what I feel for her comes from beneath the surface. If she gives me time, she’ll get all of me, heart and body invested. Right now, I’m only halfway there.

“But how does it feel?” Shady asks.

“How does what feel?”

“The no sex thing.”

“Fun actually. We eat out, go to the movies, take walks, read to each other…”

“Which kain storybook waka be dat?” Reno butts in. “Una no dey kiss?”

“We do.”

“Romance nko?”

I laugh. “Yes, I dey touch her everywhere apart from the places wey I no suppose touch.”

“You sleep on the same bed?”

“Sometimes.”

“And nothing happens?”

“No.”

“You no dey get hard-on?”

“I dey get nau. I be spirit?”

“I for say.”

They are all staring at me as if I’m from a different galaxy.

“This is the Jide I know.” Bobby puts his hand on my shoulder. “The Bridemaker guy, I don’t know.”

“It’s true!” Shady exclaims. “I remember you were platonic with Ezinne as well! Sotay we come dey suspect say na she no wan give you because she get another guy outside wey she dey service.”

The table goes silent at Shady’s journey back into a past that no one wants to revisit. He gets that he has just blundered; he tackles the topic at a different angle.

“So it’s a mutual decision between you and Honey?”

I nod. There’s no way I’ll share with my guys how horny my Honey is. I find her pent-up sexual frustration very entertaining. Apart from her trust issues, I see no offense in her behavior. In fact, it’s the flavor to the whole thing. I particularly enjoy the moments she acts like she’s doing nothing when in fact, she’s arousing me senseless. She has no idea how much I want her.But these past few days my feelings have taken the lead. Her roots are plowing deep into my heart. I suspect that it would take pain to uproot them.

“Well, cheers to you guys,” Bobby lifts his cocktail glass. “May you find happiness as we all have found.”

We raise our drinks to his toast.

“How about Mary?” Bright asks me but before I answer, Bobby interrupts.

“Ehen! Thank God say you bring up the matter! I been wan ask all of you for this table wetin enter una head wey una dey plan to hook Jide and Mary up.”

“My brother, I tire. Help me ask them.”

“To me, Mary is a better option,” Bright states. “She is well-mannered, humble, respectful, your closest female friend, so she knows you well, then she come love you on top and she’s approved by the wives.”

Bobby hisses. “Abeg!”

“Wetin come be your own?”

“It can never work! Mary is not Jide’s type, physically or otherwise. Jide needs woman wey go give am stress. Mary too goody-two shoes.”

“Ah! She’s not o,” I object. “After the stunt she pulled at my place?”

“Oh!” Shady laughs. “Very hot, juicy stunt. And my guy come fuck up.”

“What stunt?” The others want to know. I’m quite surprised that Celia didn’t tell the other wives. Perhaps Mary asked her not to.

“What stunt nau?” Bobby asks again.

“She stripped naked and asked me to…”

They don’t let me finish as they rend the atmosphere with their whoops.

“Iz a lie!” Ibro is the most stunned. “Our own Mary Amaka!”

“I swear.”

“So how was she?” Reno inquires.

“Dude, no vex. I no try my craze. E never reach dat level biko.”

“But how she look? She set? Is that body a figment of my imagination?”

“No. Babe is banging o. I swear. Curves in all the right places, man. But I wasn’t even half turned on. Apart from the fact that I see her as a sister, she’s not my type.”

“Abeg, no lie! You were turned on.”

I refuse to argue with Reno. He is half-pervert, half-degenerate for the most part of each day. And when he’s not, he’s giving his wife hell.

The discussion goes on about Mary for a while, then it morphs into single women and then, some other topic.

The night drags on and I worry about Emeka. By this time tomorrow, he’ll be Tola’s husband. Is this what he really wants?

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

“Where is Chukwuemeka?” My father’s booming voice takes me away from the conversation Bobby has engaged Shady, Reno and I in.

I look up to see the old man walking down the stairs in his expensively-embroidered Isiagu. On his head rests his traditional red hat that marks him as a man of title and importance in Igboland. It is in such rare moments like this I look at him and I’m proud to be his son.

But this is not a good day to be proud of anyone in the Onuora family. All hell is about to let loose and I don’t know whether to blame Emeka or myself.

“Where is your brother, Jideofor?”

This time it’s my mom asking. We are all set to go to the Adeniyis for the traditional wedding. Everyone is present, including family and friends from afar; even an entire Igbo musical troupe is ready to herald our arrival at our in-laws’ residence in style, but Emeka is nowhere to be found. My tummy does a flip as I recall the last conversation I had with him a week ago.

“I slept with Tola,” I had confessed to him. We were in my house, playing FIFA over cold beers. Oba, who has recently developed a baby crush on Honey was in my room with her, sharing stories about his life.

“Which Tola?” Emeka asked me, not taking a break from the game. He was on a winning streak.

I stopped the game myself.

“What other Tola do you know?”

“My Tola?”

I picked out the huskiness that shaded his voice.

“It happened at Bobby’s wedding after-party. I didn’t know who she was, I swear. But she knew me. She said it was revenge sex for what you did with her cousin. I’m sorry, man.”
Emeka continued the game in silence.

“Mex, talk nau.”

“And say what? You want us to swap stories, like how good her head skills are or how she moans?”

“Jeez! No. I just wanted to know if you believe me that I didn’t know who she was when we shagged.”

“JD, forget that we’re brothers. You’re my homie, the only person, apart from Nne, that I trust with my life. Besides that sef, I know what Tola can do. She lives on revenge like one Mexican soap queen.”

I breathed in relief and listened for more but Emeka switched off and went back to the game.

“So the wedding is cancelled?” I asked.

“Cancelled keh. I told you I already made up my mind.”

“Mex, you don’t love this chick.”

“And who says I’m marrying for love? Who does that these days?”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Jide, bone. I don’t think I can love any woman in this world.”

“So you’re resigned to the way things are.”

“Yeah.”

“Mex…”

“Die the matter. I’m marrying Tola. In a twisted kind of way, we fit each other.”

I couldn’t argue with that. It was a hard pill to swallow but I took it like a man and began getting used to the fact that Tola was soon going to be a constant feature in my life, which is why I’m quite surprised at this new twist. Where the hell is Emeka?

“Jideofor!” My dad’s walking stick strikes the floor as he calls my name. I tilt my head in his direction, showing my blankest face. “Where is that idiot boy?”

“Why is everyone asking me? Didn’t we all see him last night?”

“Yeah,” Bobby replies. “He was at the bachelor’s eve.”

Female voices filter into the sitting room from the kitchen. Honey and Elsie appear and I get temporarily distracted. Honey is dressed in the aso-ebi the family is using. She has this long, red skirt of deluxe lace, a gold-colored blouse and matching gele. Her wrists and neck are adorned with my mom’s beads. She looks like a million dollars and I fear that she might steal Tola’s shine today. With a smile in her eyes, she looks my way. I don’t return the smile but she understands through my stare that I appreciate what I see. For a brief moment we are cut off from the atmosphere around us that has become dense with my father’s angry words. He’s threatening hell on Emeka and my mom has that look on her face that usually comes before she goes hysterical. Everyone else is pretending to be composed.

“Daddy, calm down,” Elsie says, trying to keep still her eight-month old daughter who wants to be let down to the floor. “I don’t think Emeka will do anything that will disgrace this family. I know he’s around the corner somewhere. Let’s just give him time.”

“Time? It’s past eleven. The ceremony began an hour ago,” Kalu replies in exasperation. “And you know Yoruba people don’t do African time with their in-laws at their weddings. They can send us back or fine us heavily for coming late.”

“Well we have no option but to wait for the groom,” Elsie states. “It’s not like we can go to the Adeniyis’ without him.”

“I just hope he’s okay,” my mom mutters.

“He’s fine,” I assure her.

She asks for a drink of water to calm her nerves and just as Oba steps into the kitchen to get it, a car charges into the compound in a manner that gets everyone’s attention. I take a peep to see that it’s an SUV with tinted windows. Before I can guess who is behind the wheels, Tola steps out in her complete bridal attire but without shoes. She slams the door hard and marches towards the house, screaming as she guns for the front door.

“Where is Jide?!”

I know this is my day of reckoning. My sins are about to catch up with me.

“Jideofor! Where are you?! Ode buruku!”

She barges in and comes straight for me. The next thing she does shocks everyone and leaves me with a ringing ear. Damn! For a girl she can slap.

“Omotola, what has gotten into you?” my mother comes to my rescue.

“He slept with me!” Tola reveals and then croaks in a heartbreaking sob. All I can do is stay silent.

“And then he told Emeka not to get married to me!” she continues. “How can you be this wicked, Jide?!”

I can’t believe she’s playing the victim card.

“You deceived me into sleeping with you and then you ruin my marriage?! God will punish you! You and that bastard Emeka!”

Time freezes for everyone in the room. They are all staring at me and I’m wondering why. Last I checked, it takes two to tango or more like tangle in this case, so they should be staring at the whistle blower too.

I look Honey’s way and I see dread darken her beautiful face.

“Is it true, Jideofor?” my mom asks.

“It’s true, mommy!” Tola responds.

“Shut up!” my mom barks and faces me with inflamed eyes. “Did you sleep with your brother’s wife?”

I try to speak but I can’t find my voice.
“Jideofor!”

“Mom, it’s not the way she’s making it out to be.”

“Oh my God.” My mom takes off her gele and buries her head in her hands.

“Jideofor, why?” Elsie murmurs.

“It wasn’t like I went after her knowing who she was. We…”

“It’s a lie!” Tola screeches. “You knew! You’re just a sick human being! You can’t control yourself!”

God help me not to slap this girl silly.

“Can you just shut up let me talk?”

“What else do you want to say after ruining my life?! What else?!”

She’s holding her chest pitifully, drawing sympathy to her side. I look at Honey; she has wet eyes. She wants me to tell her what she has just heard isn’t true.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. A solitary tear makes its way down the corner of her eye and she leaves the sitting room. I turn and stare daggers at Tola, my anger mounting. If I lose Honey to this her latest madness, I’ll make her life miserable. These past two weeks have been the best in my life in a long while because I’ve been blessed to spend it with an amazing woman. I will not let anyone stand in the way of my happiness with Honey.

I ignore the judgmental glares and my father’s irate tirade at me and go after the woman my heart wants. The whole world can burn for all I care.

©Sally@moskedapages

Image credit: weddingelation.com, tumblr.com