Tag Archives: rape

It’s Another Saturday…#21

Hi guys!

I apologize for not posting Family Secrets. You know how busy I can get. I’ll make it up to you guys.

It’s a Very Complicated Something

One of the simple pleasures of my life is watching Honey’s morning beauty routine. She doesn’t do much makeup but her skincare regimen is a different matter entirely. She has this array of herbal creams and lotions which she obsessively applies every morning. I think that is why she has a perfectly-even skin tone. My job is to just lie back in bed and watch her exfoliate, cleanse and moisturize; and then I pull her back into my arms just to feel her skin and er…do other things.

This morning, she has that look on her face that tells me to basically keep my hands to myself. She hasn’t got time for any extracurricular activity. Peace had sent text messages to all the wives last night, informing them that she urgently needed to see them, Honey inclusive.

“When I leave Peace’s home, I’ll go look for someone to clear the grass in front of my house,” Honey informs me. “Kene thinks there might be snakes. Same thing one of the guards at the gates said.”

Her back is to me and she’s bending forward to pick a granny panty that has fallen to the floor. I am not distracted by the sight of her bent over because the mention of Kene has put me ill at ease.

“Why does Kene care about your lawn?”

She slips into her underwear and turns around. “Sorry I mentioned his name.”

“Answer my question.”

“Well, he stopped by and suggested I cleared the grasses because of snakes.”

I sit up and place a pillow between my legs. “Can you tell me the story of how you guys broke up again?”

Honey, on her way to strapping on her bra, drops her hands.

“I’m listening, sugar lips.”

“We didn’t exactly breakup.”


“We… I… called things off because of the distance between us.”

“And did you still love him?”

She hesitates. “Yes.”

“And did it end with the breakup?”

Her eyes shift upwards. “No. We still saw each other every now and then.”

“So, let me understand the situation here. You never broke up officially and never stopped shagging?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Do you still love him?”


“But he feels he has a right to tell you what to do with your lawn.”

She dismisses my unease with a careless wave of her hand. “He’s not an issue, hotstuff. I feel nothing for him.”

I decide I’ll stop badgering. My suspicions are uncalled for but I promise myself to keep an eye on Kene. I can’t get over the conceited look he had in his eyes that day when we met.

I feel my phone vibrate on the bed and I toss pillows and bed covers around to find it. I finally see it wedged between the mattress and the bed frame. I check my call log; I have just missed Emeka’s call. I dial back and he answers immediately.

He informs me that Yazmin’ flight was delayed last night and she was coming in this morning. He is picking her from the airport but would love to see me first.

I ask why.

“When I come we’ll yarn.”

I disconnect the call. Honey is dressed in a pair of Ankara shorts and a plain tee, looking absolutely gorgeous, and because I can’t help myself, I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her from behind. Don’t blame me; the woman is too beautiful to be left untouched. And what I feel for her these days makes me always want to possess her entirely. I have reached that stage where I love things about her that are less appealing, things no one else may find adorable. I have only felt that way once – with Ezinne. But it was short-lived.

“Hi,” Honey says, applying a light shade of pink gloss over her soft lips. Our eyes hold each other’s in the mirror. She smiles at me.

I kiss the nape of her neck.

“Don’t stop,” she hums.

I kiss her again, brushing my lips over her sensitive earlobe. I watch how goosebumps spread over her neck.

“Okay, you should stop now.”

I peel away from her, slip into a pair of jeans and a shirt and wait for Emeka. Some minutes later, Honey tells me she’s leaving.

“Take the car,” I say to her.

“I’m still learning how to drive, Jide.”

“Peace’s house is not far from here and the roads are free. Take the car.”

“Two more driving lessons and I’ll start using the car,” she promises and we both chuckle when we remember the last driving lesson and how we parked in some abandoned place and tried our first car sex, which was totally mind-blowing.

“See ya!”

She blows me a kiss and leaves.

Emeka arrives shortly after but won’t sit in. He requests that I follow him to the airport to get Yazmin. I tell him I don’t want to. He pleads, saying he has something important to discuss.

You see, there was a time I knew Emeka like I knew my own soul but after the recent mess with Tola and Yazmin, I’m not sure I know him again. Hence, it’s only natural for me to freak out when he says we have something important to discuss.

As we hit the road, he doesn’t tell me what’s bothering him straightaway. He gives me this unnecessary speech about how deeply he loves Tola and how she means the world to him and so forth.

“Can you just hit me with whatever shit you’re trying so hard to sugarcoat?” I demand.

He sighs. “Hmm… Jide… what I’m about to tell you ehn… Hmm…”

“Talk abeg.”

“I’m married to Yazmin.”

Time stops for a second or two as I bless him with a harsh stare. He is not looking back at me. His eyes are on the road ahead.

“What did I just hear?”

“Yazmin is my second wife. Legally married.”

“Dude, what the fuck!”

“I kid you not.”

Well, didn’t I just mention that I don’t know this boy?

“Mex, abeg tell me you’re kidding.”

“No. And it gets worse. She is actually coming to Naija to stay.”

I glare at my brother a second time. I am shocked at the blasé manner in which he speaks, the way he laughs with no care in the world and I’m wondering if it’s the same parents that raised us. I still don’t want to believe what I just heard.

“For real?”

“I’m not joking.”

“When did this happen?”

“When I went to see Tobe.”

“I don’t believe this.”

“Seriously, we’re married.”

“Mex, why? Why are you doing this to your wife? What type of nonsense is this?”

“It’s not my fault, Jide.”

“How is it not your fault? Did anyone force you into marrying a second wife?”

“Yes! Literally! I had no choice at all!”


“Long story.”

“Shebi it’s the reason I entered car with you? You better explain yourself.”

Emeka first swivels the car in a U-turn to take a shorter route leading to our destination.

“I told you Yaz’s father is a warlord, right?”


“Well, that was just a mild way of me saying he is a drug lord.”

Drug lord?”

I cackle. At this point I am beyond shocked.

“Chukwuemeka, you went to mess with a Mexican drug lord’s daughter? You have a death wish or something?”

“If I knew Yaz was from that type of family, Jide you know me, I would never have touched her. Babe never told me anything. And I never asked. Biggest mistake of my life, bros.”

Well… I can’t judge him on that one. There were girls (like Tola) that I wouldn’t have been involved with if I bothered to find out more about them.

“What type of drugs?”

“I don’t know. Nobody really knows, not even Yazmin. His operations are tight, covered by legit businesses. But we all know he is a drug lord and one of the most feared men in Mexico, with strong connections to the government. He is basically untouchable, so you can imagine the type of shit I got myself into. First, he was mad when he heard I got married to Tola. He personally called me on my wedding night and threatened to end my life if I didn’t show for Tobe’s circumcision and christening. And man, I was scared, I won’t lie to you.”

“It’s not like he can do anything to you from there.”

Emeka gives me a look that carries the weight of what he’s about to say.

“Ivan Ramiros?” He laughs. “Even devil no dey try himself where Ivan Ramiros dey, Jide. Once he get you for mind, your own don finish.”

“Abeg, continue your story.”

“So I got into Mexico City and his chauffeur picked me from the airport and carted me off to their hacienda. I’ve never been there before. The last time I met the man was at his office in New York. We drove into the estate and I was like holy shit! There were guards with guns everywhere, hefty bulldogs, a high electric fence and a house the size of our family house like twenty times over. I kid you not! JD, if you see this house, you go weak! A shitload of money was used to build it!”

“Drug money, you mean.” I am not charmed by our new in-law. In fact, I despise him already.

“I didn’t get to see the old man immediately. And mind you, he’s not old like popsi old. He’s old like George Clooney old; dude is posh and knows what’s up, which makes him scarier.

“So, they gave me a room, I dropped my bag and the driver took me to Ivan’s night club.”

“Wait, you call him Ivan?”

“Dem born me well make I try? Anyways, he was waiting there. I was ushered into his office. He asked everyone out and it was just me and him and a gun that was on the table between us. Jide, I was sweating in my balls because the man was staring straight into my eyes for like almost ten minutes. I could not move, could not talk; I just dey there dey sweat.

“Finally, he went ‘Nigga, no me jodas’. Which literally means don’t fuck with me. Then he added, ‘you fuck my daughter, get her pregnant and you go and marry some Nigerian puta! You’re a fucking idiot. Your mama gave birth to a fag.’ Jide, I had nothing to say but apologize and explain that Tola was who my parents chose for me. The guy laughed for a long time but his fingers were toying with the conk of his gun and he was looking at me with eyes that weren’t laughing. I no fit breathe; I just dey there dey look am. He now said, very slowly, ‘Pinche pendejo, you will marry my daughter tomorrow. You will put a ring on Yazmin’s finger, look into her eyes and tell her you love her and will be with her until the world ends or shit like that.’”

“And what did you tell him?”

Emeka laughs. It’s a washed up laugh. That type a person gives off when they want to turn an intolerable situation into a manageable one. I actually feel sorry for him.

“Jide, wetin I wan tell that kind man?”

A car behind us honks and Emeka cusses back at the driver in Igbo.

“Anyways, the man did not threaten any further. He simply passed me a drink, lit me a Cuban, made a toast to family, endearing ties, and cheered to the happiness I will share with his daughter. Two days later, in his home office, with a few family members and a city official present, Yaz and I signed a marriage certificate. In the evening, a big party was thrown which lasted till the next day. My brother, na so I take acquire second wife o.”

I am unable to say a word after Emeka’s sorry tale. I want to blame him, scold him, judge him, but he is already suffering for his sins. It’s ironic that I slept with way more women than he did but he ended up with all the drama.

“I think we can find a way out of this,” I mumble.


“I don’t know anything about Mexican marriage laws but is it legal to marry there if you’re already married?”

“It is not,” Emeka replies, “but I already told you the influence that man pulls. All the papers, including the ones I was supposed to process by myself if I wanted to marry Yazmin, were already taken care of before my flight even touched down in Mexico City. It was either I married her or ended up in a hole six feet under.”

“And what of Yazmin? She just sat there and let all of this happen?”

“She didn’t have any choice. She begged the man, used her momsi and family members to beg him but he refused.”

“Does she still have feelings for you?”


“So which kind dirty beg she beg?”

Emeka shrugs.

“And now, she’s come to stay. Jide, I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose Tola over her. I love Tola to death but she cannot know what is on ground now. I have begged Yaz to take off her ring and not mention anything about the marriage until I sort out the mess.”

“How do you want to sort it out?”

The careless laugh comes again. “I no know o! I swear, I no know.”

“The only option is just to annul the wedding with Yazmin, Mex. That’s the only way out. If you two can sneak into Mexico and meet some city official or a judge and explain the whole screw-up to them, they can annul the wedding.”

“That is if they don’t contact Ivan first.”

I roll my eyes.

“The moment they see Yaz’s full name, that’s it. They’ll call him and I’m screwed. Jide, I saw what he did to her younger brother in my front just because the guy scratched his car. I don’t want to sign my death warrant, biko. I will manage two wives for now. Besides, Tobe is still too young for any stress at this point. I’ll figure out something soon. And erm… by the way, she’s coming with her maid.”


“Yes. Yaz is a pampered girl…”

“Spoilt, you mean?”

“Yeah…you could say that.”

“And the maid wants to live in Naija too?”

“No. That one is staying for just a month or so.”

I shake my head. We close the chapter and talk about something else as we head up to the airport. Actually, Emeka does all the talking because my mind is circling around the different ugly scenarios that will arise when the truth finally blows out. I am mostly worried about my mom. I don’t think the old woman can handle another stretch of humiliation. And then there’s Tola. The scandal will just break her.

I am highly disappointed in Emeka but because I haven’t exactly been a role model to him and Oba, I can’t reprimand him. I can only think up a plan to get his head above water for the meantime.

He senses my state of mind and breaks off mid-speech.

“I know I screwed up, Jide. It was just a phase I was going through. I didn’t know it would lead to this.”

I keep mute to his admission.

“Say something. Your opinion is important.”

“Just park the car, Mex. We’ll talk later.”

He does as I instruct. We get into the airport and wait. Yazmin’s flight is taxing the runway at the moment. I choose to pass the time on Twitter, just to get my mind off Emeka’s drama. Nothing of interest scores with me on Twitterville, so I move to Facebook and see that Honey has uploaded selfies she and I took a while ago. I skim past, neither commenting nor liking, although my face holds a smile. I don’t really like my private life in public but I have no qualms with Honey showing me off. It’s a woman thing, I guess.

I continue with the status updates and posts of other friends on Facebook. I haven’t been online in a while due to my busy schedule. I try to catch up on latest happenings.


I look up from my phone and search for the face behind the voice that has just called out above the noise rapidly filling the arrival area. I had been so engrossed in my phone that I totally missed the sudden influx of people.


I see a feminine hand waving in the distance. Emeka bustles through a family of four and heads up in the direction of the waving hand. A couple deep in embrace has blocked my view. I shift to the left to see better and catch the striking face of a Mexican woman whom I believe is Yazmin. Standing beside her is another Hispanic-looking woman of fuller figure, frowning and cradling a baby in her arms.

Tola wasn’t lying about Yazmin’s looks. Even after a thirteen-hour flight from LAX and donned in a sweater, she looks stunning.

For a moment, I am hypnotized by her beauty but snap out of it when I see Emeka, on his own accord, give her a French kiss that makes me take back the pity I have for him.

In fact, I am annoyed and I pray that thunder fires him. The guy is a shameless polygamist.


∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

“Ray, I’ll just pop in real quick and shower. Will you come in and wait?”

He looked like he might decline my invitation but he turned off the engine and followed me in. I dashed into the bathroom and in less than five minutes I was done. I came out in my towel to pick a change of clothes but Reno stopped me with a careless statement.

“You know I still find you sexy, right?”

I hissed as I rummaged through my clothes for something fresh.

“Abeg, carry that your nonsense talk that you use on all those cheap girls out there and shove it.”

He laughed. “It’s nonsense talk now, abi? You’ve forgotten when my words were all you wanted to hear.”

“Yeah, a century ago.”

“Let it be a millennium sef, what I feel for you is still strong, Mary.”

I faced him. “Reno, what’s wrong with you? You have a good wife, for heaven’s sake! Why are you treating her this way? Peace has literally given up her life and happiness for you, to make you happy. Why can’t you respect her, even if you feel nothing for her?”

“How did Peace pop into this conversation now?”

Clearly, he was annoyed but I just had to say it to him the way I felt he needed to hear it.

“This useless sleeping around you’re doing will ruin you and I don’t want Peace and Sammy to be caught up in the mess.”

“Peace and Sammy.” He laughed. “You think your friend is a saint? Have you asked her who Sammy’s father is?”

“I don’t need to ask her. I know he’s your son…”

“He is not!”

I released a heavy breath. “Reno, please let’s not do this now. Our friends are waiting, so I’ll forgive you and ignore the pass you just made at me. Meanwhile, try and get a life.”

“I should get a life.” He scoffed. “Everyone goes on and on about how much of a dog I am but no one puts a microscope on Peace because she carries the Bible on her head.”

“She is good wife and a good mother,” I stress.

“She is not! Peace is a drunk and as much a cheat as I am!”


“I am not lying! Peace cheated on me with someone else to have Sammy!”

“Okay, stop shouting! We are not fighting.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Let’s forget this whole thing abeg.”

“I am sorry.”

He got to his feet and moved towards me. “You know I hate upsetting you, baby.”

“Reno, seriously stop. Just stop it. We were over a long time ago and even in my wildest madness, I will never have anything to do with you.”

“Calm down.”

He moved closer and made to touch me but I slapped his hand away. When I tried to move, he blocked me, and that was when I had enough. I pushed him off.

“You’re a wicked man, Reno! You don’t deserve the type of wife you have at all! Peace gave up her faith to cover your shame when she decided to be inseminated by a complete stranger just to have the child your impotent dick could not produce!”

He stared back at me in shock.

“Yes, I know the story! She did it all for you! She covered your shameless ass and instead of being grateful, you humiliate her further by screwing around! You are just useless! Abeg, leave. Just go. I’ll find my way to Jide’s house by myself. I can’t stand you right now!”

I marched to the door and opened it but Reno stood there, watching me.

“Reno, leave!”

He took a slow walk to the door with this cocky smile on his face. Next thing, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his dick and went, “Does this feel like impotence to you?”

I tried to pull away but he pressed my hand harder. I was more irritated than anything. I didn’t feel threatened because this was a man I knew intimately once and he was my friend’s husband. Rape never crossed my mind, not for a second.

“I don’t know what Peace told you but I am not impotent, Mary. I might not be able to have a child but trust me baby, this device is in perfect working condition, better than you used to know. You want to test it now?”

“I’d rather die!”

And that was when his eyes changed.

He slammed the door, locked it and then shoved me to the bed. I screamed and tried to fight him off but I was not strong enough. I guess I was weakened by shock because I could not believe what was happening. I just lay there, staring back into his eyes. He couldn’t stand my stare, so he took one of my pillows and covered my face. I could hardly breathe but I still didn’t fight him. I just…wanted my heart to give out or something.

“And… that’s the story of how Reno raped me.”



The room is plunged into silence following Mary’s story. I look at the faces of the women around me. I see shame mixed with shock and sadness. Not even mouthy Celia speaks.

And then I look at Peace; she is fiddling with the edges of the handkerchief in her hands that are soaked with her tears.

“Me, I have questions,” I speak up. “For Mary and Peace.”

Both women give me their attention.

“Go ahead, Honey,” Peace says.

“You slept with someone else to have your son?”

“Sammy is not Reno’s son,” Peace acknowledges.

And as if sensing he is the topic of discussion, Sammy who is asleep beside Peace, wakes up with a loud cry. She pats him to get him back to sleep but the seven-month old cries louder. Peace picks him up and heads straight to the kitchen with him.

“Who would have thought,” Noka whispers after Peace disappears.

“But Mary you can keep a secret o,” Celia says with a tinge of jealousy. “How did I not know all this?”

“You’re not supposed to know everything,” Mary replies.

I take my ears off their conversation. Photo frames of Peace and Reno have caught my attention. At first glance you see a happy couple but on closer inspection, it’s easy to pick the farce.

Peace is an intriguing woman. She comes off as the cliché church type who dresses modestly, has not a hair strand out of place and keeps her home shipshape. I love her décor taste. The way she combines green and blue with traces of gold is stimulating. The white of her marbled floor, the fluff of her throw-pillows, the serenity and flawlessness of her home, all of it push you to want to become the perfect wife. How did she end up with someone like Reno?


I turn to Bimpe who has been saying something to me.


“Your phone is ringing.”


My ears tune to the sound of my ringing phone with a bit of annoyance. One of my siblings is calling. I know it’s not Jane because I have taken her name out of that group, so I know it’s either Harry or Jessie. My other brother, Abel, will never call me.

I dump the phone in my handbag just as Peace returns to the sitting room with Sammy.

“Sorry, he’s teething, so he’s really fussy.”

Peace has lost a lot of weight. She isn’t on the big side to begin with but over these past few weeks, she has shed some good fat that has left her with bones sticking out. I know her friends are as concerned as I am. I’m pleased they didn’t give up on her; Mary especially, who persisted and who has the biggest heart out of all of us present. I now understand why Jide has a soft spot for her.

“What I’m about to share with you girls, no one else knows, except for Mary,” Peace speaks. “And even then, she knows only part of it. I was willing to take the secrets to the grave but what Reno did is making me think otherwise.”

“Peace, at this point, if you take a gun and shoot him, the world will understand,” I say to her. “Exposing his dirty laundry is nothing.”

The wives agree with me.

“I blame myself for how my life turned out. I met Reno through Mary. It was at a business seminar that she invited him for of which I was the organizer. I fell in love with him that day and straightaway started praying to God to make him my husband. We went out a couple of times and on the third date, he proposed. I believed it was an answer to my prayers because I didn’t want to get to the age of twenty-six and I was still unmarried. When I think of it now, it was all really stupid.”

She places her sleeping son back in his former position.

“Mary begged me not to marry him, my pastor told me I was rushing but I didn’t listen. Reno was perfect. He was romantic, sweet, playful, charmed my family…”

She reminisces with a smile.

“He never asked for sex and didn’t go beyond a kiss. I believed he was sent from heaven. And that was how, just after three months, we got married.”

She stops as her smile disappears.

“On our wedding night, I got the shocker of my life. We were both naked and about to have sex and he goes, ‘Peace, I am sterile. An STD rendered me infertile and I can never give you a child. But you know what you will do? You will find some sperm donor out there and get pregnant by him and we’ll call the child mine.’

“I was stunned. Speechless! He went on to threaten that if I ever revealed to anyone what he told me, he would tell them I’m an adulteress and they would believe him because there was already proof that he could get a woman pregnant. He told me about his teenage years when he got some girl pregnant and everyone knew about it but she later aborted it because they were both too young to be parents.”

“Yeah, Shady told me that story,” Celia comments.

“Well, that was how my wedding night went. I was being disvirgined by my husband in the worst possible way. I lay there in tears the entire time. That night scarred me and I hated sex from then on. The marriage plunged downwards even though it was just beginning. It’s like you’re at the foot of a mountain, about to climb, only that you find yourself already tumbling down.”


“I was stubborn the first three years, refusing to do what Reno asked of me. I held on to my faith and prayed for a miracle. I was at church every weekend for fasting and prayers. I was working then, so I spent all my salary on seed offerings and donations to motherless babies’ homes all for the sake of Reno. I endured the insults and taunting from his family, especially his mother.”

“I remember,” Bimpe says. “And Reno never spoke up for you. In fact, the guys were all mad at him at some point and begged him to adopt but he refused.”

“I took all the blame but it started becoming difficult after the fifth year. That was when I confided in Mary and begged her to find me a sperm donor. I told her the type of man I wanted and how much I would pay. I then backed it up with prayers. After two months or so, she found a guy but I didn’t like him. A month later, she found another guy but it was the same feeling. And that was how we went on and on—she would find somebody and I would disapprove—until we both gave up. I never liked any of them because none of them matched up to Reno in my eyes.”

“But P, he is not even fine!” laments Celia.

“I know but I loved him and I believed God could do it for us but Reno just kept pushing me to get pregnant.”

“Why didn’t he help you find a donor?” Noka asks.

“When he was busy sleeping around?” Celia hisses.

“He said it was unethical and humiliating for him to find a man who would father his son.”

“Can you imagine?”

“I became so stressed, got fired from work, and that was when the drinking began. I would take a glass of red wine or two each time I was depressed. It would calm me and I would sleep off. From a glass or two, I started finishing a whole bottle. After a while, I realized wine wasn’t strong enough. I moved to beer and later on, to spirits.”

“And were you having sex with Reno during all of this?” Bimpe asks.

Peace laughs. “Sex? My dear, I didn’t want to but I had to. He called me a dry wood and said he wasn’t attracted to me anymore, so I would always beg for sex. I irritated him. Somehow, he saw me as a reminder of children he couldn’t have. And the more I prolonged getting pregnant by another man, the more he slept around.”

“Humph!” Celia grunted.

“Finally, last year, Mary got me this guy that I liked.”

Peace’s eyes twinkle beneath a hidden smile.

“After checking his profile out, we arranged a meeting and I told him what I wanted. He named a price, we drove to my doctor and tests were carried out. When the results were released, he checked out healthy, passed all the tests. The doctor fixed an insemination date based on my cycle. The day came and it was carried out but feelings had already developed between me and him…”

“Are you serious?” Mary asks. “I didn’t know.”

“What’s his name?” Noka enquires.

“I can’t tell you, Noka,” Peace replies.

“Abeg, continue,” Celia remarks. “Ignore this gbegborun.”

“Just call him X.”

“So you and X were…?”

“In love. We had lunch that day and ended up in a hotel and that was how I started cheating on my husband,” she said sadly.

“What is good for the goose is good for the gander,” Celia comments.

“I fell in love with him and fell out of love with Reno. He made me enjoy sex because it was good. So, so good. I knew what I was doing was wrong but I couldn’t stop. For the short time I was with him, life had meaning. I stopped drinking, I was happy, I laughed a lot… But then I fell pregnant and I knew I had to end it there. Useless or not, Reno was still my husband and what I was doing was a sin in God’s eyes.”

“But God would have understood if you continued with X and divorced Reno’s cheating, rapist ass!”

“Celia?!” Noka scolds.

“I am saying the truth here. She fell in love with a good man who is a million times better than Reno and was able to knock her up! How was she going to burn in hell for that? Honey, abi I’m lying?”

I agree with Celia. Peace should have divorced Reno a long time ago.

“Peace, go on,” Bimpe urges with a wave of her hand.

“So I cut off all communication with X,” Peace continues, “and told Reno I am pregnant with our baby and he goes, ‘how many times did he screw you to get you pregnant?’ I was shocked at the question but I said nothing. He insulted me, called me a whore and said the moment he found my replacement, he would kick me out.”

“Na wa o!” Bimpe exclaims. “The same Reno I know?”

“Bims, believe me, you don’t know Reno,” Mary states. “I don’t even think the guys know him. Maybe Jide does.”

“You should have seen the way he announced the pregnancy to his family,” Peace goes on with her tale. “You should have been there. He was in tears. He kissed me, hugged me, sang for me and promised all manner of gifts because I had finally made him happy. And the heartless souls were even congratulating him for being loving and patient with me all these years. We became the talk of the town.”

“Ibro even threw you guys a party,” Noka recalls. “But none of us knew what was happening. How did you survive all this, P?”

“I don’t know. Seriously, I don’t.”

“And Mr. X?”

Peace’s eyes twinkle once more. “He was heartbroken but understood my reasons and stayed away. I sent him a picture when Sammy was born. He never replied and I went back to loving my husband.”

“You don’t love Reno, Peace,” Bimpe tells her. “You are being manipulated by him and enslaved by your vows to him. Take it from someone who has been there, you are an abused woman and you need to get out and find your happiness.”

“By the way, X is married,” Mary reveals. “Sorry, Peace. I don’t want you hoping against hope. He married earlier this year in Abakiliki. I attended. He asked of you and Sammy. I gave him pictures.”

“Okay.” Peace sucks in her lips briefly to hide her disappointment. Mary reads her emotions and goes to sit beside her. She puts an arm around her.

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“I know. It was… wrong. And yet…”

“I don’t think you loved him,” I say plainly.

They all stare at me.

“He was just a picture of all you wanted in Reno, the man you truly loved. So, if you had left Reno and hooked up with him, it might have been a disaster.”

Noka raises a hand. “I think so too.”

“But what we shared was strong.”

“It was just sex,” I stress.

“Then let her have her sex, Honey,” Celia says defensively. “It was good. She enjoyed it, the man is taken and all she has is memories, so let her enjoy it. Is it your sex?”

We all laugh, easing the heavy mood.

“It was adultery,” Peace sniffles. “Good as it was, it was wrong. I’m heartbroken that he’s moved on but it’s a good thing too. I guess it’s time I find my own way as well.”

“Your own way, as in…?”

We all look at her in dreaded anticipation, praying she says the words we want her to say.

“As in…divorcing Reno.”

Everyone sighs loudly. Celia slips to her knees and throws her hands in the air in gratitude to God.

“And you’ll go to rehab?” Bimpe tosses in.

“Don’t push it, Bims,” Noka cautions.

“I will. I’ll go to rehab.”

Celia leaves her place on the floor and hugs Peace, leaving kisses on her face and neck that plunge her into a tearful outburst.

Celia pulls back and we all watch Peace, afraid that she is about to have a Reno relapse.

“I don’t want to leave him,” she cries. “Where do I start from?”

They surround her immediately, offering words of encouragement while I simply observe. How does a woman get to a point where her man becomes her god and she fears the very ground he walks on? And she cannot walk away from him even in the face of an unbearable situation? Is it what marriage is about? Will I have to give up myself to ensure that the ring on my finger actually means something?

I love Jide, and what I feel grows every day but what if he hurts me in the future? How much can I take before I say it’s enough and walk out the door? As it stands, I am yet to be in a relationship where I don’t have a part of my heart packed in a bag and waiting by the door. It takes very little to see me walk out on a man, and I doubt that it would be different with Jide. Does marriage mean I have to unpack all of my heart and commonsense and sacrifice them on the altar of marriage vows to my husband as Peace has done?

I am yet to comprehend all of this. All I know is that I still want my happily ever after.




pinche pendejo – fucking asshole

gbegborun – gossip

LAX – Los Angeles International Airport


Image Credit: elev8.hellobeautiful.comfavim.com


It’s Another Saturday…#20

The Uninvited

I am exhausted. Three births and one more to go. I can hardly move a muscle. I know I prayed to God before I resumed work in this hospital, that I wanted favor and success but I had no idea he had taken my prayer seriously. I have become so popular that expectant mothers are ditching their gynecologists from different hospitals and seeking my services. I miss my former workplace when I had enough time on my hands. Nowadays, I just go home and crash into my bed and drift off while listening to Honey tell me about how her day went.

We have not had quality time together in the past week. While I have been consumed with work, she has been preoccupied with moving to her own apartment. I am not totally excited about the development but I understand that a woman needs her space. If we’re going to be spending happily ever after with each other, then it’s fine to live apart now. The only problem I’m having with the whole arrangement is that her ex lives in the same neighborhood with her. It had come to her as a shock too.

I was helping her pack in some boxes of electronics when I saw her freeze in her spot as her eyes fixed on some fair-complexioned guy who was walking his dog and smiling in our direction. Honey dashed into the house and remained there even when the guy approached and introduced himself as an old friend of hers. When I called out to her to come speak with him, she ignored me. The guy turned away, promising to give her a call at a later time.

“He is not a friend,” she told me directly. “He is my ex. And I’m calling the agent that got me this house to ask for my money back because Kene and I cannot stay in the same space.”

Her statement made me uncomfortable. Why should her ex have such an effect on her?

“Please explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain, hotstuff. Kene is an ex and I feel exes should remain in one’s past. Not present.”


“I’m calling the agent right away,” she stated, reaching for her phone.

I took it from her. “There’s no need, sugams.”

“No, seriously. I wouldn’t even have picked this estate. It’s so bourgeois. But it was Saratu that got it for me. It belongs to her ex-husband’s brother. I’m sure she also helped Kene. I wish she had just told me he was here.”

“Is he going to be an issue?”

“No. I can handle him. Like I said, exes should remain in the past. He was the last person I expected to see here.”

I saw that she was serious about her decision to call the agent. She can get impulsive at times.

“Honey, I don’t want you to move out. If Kene is not going to be an issue, then stay.”

“You’re comfortable with him living in the same space as me?”

“You’re not in the same space.”

“He’s walking his dog in front of my house. If that’s not too close for comfort, I don’t know what is.”

“I trust that you’ll handle him.”

And that had ended the conversation about Kene. But the ghost of his presence still lingers on my mind. What is it about him that makes her so uncomfortable?

I rise from the examination table I have been stretched out on for the past two hours. I feel fairly refreshed, although I am still exhausted. I need to check on my last patient for the day to see how her labor is progressing.

I gently slap my cheeks awake and pick my phone. On my way out, I bump into Mary. There’s an awkward moment between us. Usually, I would hug her but since the rape affair, I have avoided physical contact with her.

“Hey, boo.”

She smiles. A real smile; one I haven’t seen in a while. I am glad she listened to Honey’s urging to see a psychologist. Her frequent sessions with the woman appear to be doing some good.

“Hi. I was actually coming to see you.”

I open my office door and point her in.


I close the door. She settles into a chair while I perch on my desk, facing her.

“It’s about today’s meeting at Peace’s house. I know I was not invited because the last time with her didn’t end well. But I am still her friend, despite all that happened. I feel I have to be there.”

I purse my lips in thought.

Let me get you up to speed on the rape saga. Celia had exposed to all of us what Peace had divulged about Reno being guilty of Mary’s accusations. Following that, we called a meeting of the affected parties but Reno did not show up. Peace was there, however, and she confirmed what Reno had done and begged for Mary’s forgiveness but Mary swore never to forgive her or Reno and walked out on all of us.

That was just two weeks ago. In that space of time, Reno had disappeared for three days and showed up early one morning at his doorstep, battered and unconscious. Presently, he is still in a hospital undergoing treatment. No one knows what happened to him, although we strongly suspect Celia (who has denied) to be responsible, owing that she has an elder brother that is a soldier, rumored to be crazy about Mary.

At the moment, the wives have come up with this intervention plan to send Peace to a rehab center to treat her addiction. The intervention is happening at hers this evening and the men have not been invited. Mary has also been left out.

“I was the only one who knew about her alcohol addiction,” Mary reveals to me. “And I used to speak to her about it. She’ll always tell me she’ll change and beg me not to tell anybody. I kept her secret as a good friend but I don’t think I helped her by doing so, and that’s why I want to be there today. Do you think it’s wise?”

“Yeah. In fact, I think you’ll be just what she needs to convince her to go to rehab. She keeps telling everyone to beg you to forgive her, so your presence will be a deciding factor. Call Celia and let her know you will be going.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Mary rises and straightens out her long skirt. She is back to wearing conservative clothes. Honey doesn’t approve and she’s taking it upon herself to be her stylist. I have asked her to go easy on her. Mary has a quiet demeanor but a cheerful personality within. I don’t think Reno was strong enough a force to knock that person down. She will come back in full vigor. She just needs time to heal.

“Can I hug you?” I request. “I have been dying to hug you.”

“Why?” she laughs a little.

“You need it.”


I give her a bear hug. I don’t intend to linger but when I try to pull away, she holds me back. I realize she is crying. I break contact.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I said I’ll stop crying and be strong but…”

She covers her face with her hands and I hold her again.

“Nobody’s rushing you, boo. It takes time.”

She pulls away and sniffles. “Thank you.”

Keeping her head low, she spins in the direction of the door and hurries out. I follow her but branch to a hallway that has consultation offices on the left and an open courtyard on the right. In the evenings, I could be caught sitting out there. I love the cool air and serenity it offers alongside the fragrance of fresh flowers which contrasts with the antiseptic smell that has pervaded the walls.

I turn to a shorter hallway and stop at a ward to check on a patient whose baby is supposed to go in for surgery later in the day. As I step into the room which holds four beds, I spot Tola in a corner, struggling with a wailing baby whose mother looks less than pleased.

For a moment Tola stops what she’s doing and stares at the baby, stern-faced.

“Please, get us the baby’s real doctor,” the mother whines to a nurse who is attending to some other business in the room. Tola snaps back to attention and faces the woman.

“Madam, can you do me a favor and move away from here so I can do my work?”

“But doctor, my baby has been crying for almost thirty minutes! And you’re yet to find a vein. You keep poking him with that needle!”

“Madam, your son is going in for a scan in the next hour. He needs this IV line in. Allow me do my work.”

“No o! I’ll stay here.”

I see Tola mutter something under her breath before she makes another attempt to find a vein in the baby’s arm. The little bugger screams piercingly the moment the needle goes in and she withdraws the catheter.

“Doctor please, leave him.”

Tola snaps at her. “Madam, stay away!”

The woman retreats but Tola doesn’t stop there; she goes ahead and reveals unpleasant truths to her about her son’s condition, scaring her to death with the consequences of her not finding a vein in his body. The ward goes silent listening to her in her permitted five minutes of madness. When she is done and all that is left is her hard breathing, I walk over and lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She turns. “Jide? What are you doing here?”

“Can I help?” I ask and she shrugs. I look at the nurse. “Give me gloves and a cannula.” To the baby’s mother, I say, “Madam, please give us space, okay?”

The woman nods. The nurse hands me the requested items while Tola passes her chair to me.

“What’s up with you?” I ask, slipping into a pair of gloves.

“Nothing,” she replies hurriedly. “I’m fine.”

“I haven’t seen you like this since you slapped me.”

“I said I’m good, Dede.”

“Hmm…I’m guessing hormones?”

She presses her lips together in silence.

“Congratulations, though. Mex told me. How long gone are you?”

“Six weeks.”

“Hope this is a real pregnancy?”

“That’s not fair.”

I smile and hit a vein in the baby’s arm, carefully driving in the cannula as his cries lower to whimpers.

“Why are you even here, by the way?” I ask Tola and hand the baby back to his mother.

“Doctor Freeman decided to have a lot of free time with himself today and asked me to fill in for him. He seems to forget I half-own this hospital.”

I discard the gloves. “Maybe you need to assert your position or the senior doctors won’t take you seriously.”

“They don’t see me as qualified enough even after marriage,” she complains, making notes in the patient’s chart. “Maybe when I have this baby and they start calling me Iya, then they’ll respect me.”

I wait for her to finish and then we walk out.

“Thanks for helping out.”

“No wahala.”

“There’s something else bugging me, Dede.”

I stop. “What?”

“Yazmin is flying in today.”


“Mex didn’t tell you?”


“She’ll be staying at the family house. I know you told me not to let it bother me but she’s staying for a whole month. How do I cope with that?”

“Like an adult, Tola. No drama, please.”

I keep on walking.

“What if everybody falls in love with her? Like, daddy – what if he really likes her and wishes she was Emeka’s wife instead?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. Have you seen her? She’s like J.Lo and Sofia Vergara and Salma Hayek put together, only younger!”

“And you are Emeka’s wife. Doesn’t that ring on your finger mean anything to you?”

Tola lifts her hand and stares at her wedding band as if seeing it for the first time. “It does.”

“Good. You earned it. Show Yazmin why. And stop stressing; it’s not good for the baby.”

I head up a flight of stairs, leaving her behind.

“Can I register for your antenatal classes, DOM?” she requests.

“Hell no!”

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

“I think this would fit nicely here. What do you think, Mary?”

I step back and let Mary see my handiwork. We are both facing a wall in my sitting room on which I have nailed the replica of the daffodil painting that hangs above Jide’s bed. Mary angles her head to the left and I follow her movement. She straightens her head again and shakes it.

“It’s better on this side.”

She removes the painting and places it beside another of a dark house at night, illuminated by a yellow moon. Both paintings complement each other and give my sitting room this serenity that moderates the yellow curtains.

“Oh, wow. You really have an eye for this sort of thing.”

“What’s with you and Jide and yellow sef?” she asks. I laugh, and then stretch out with a yawn.

“I’m nervous about this Peace’s intervention, Honey.”


Mary sits on a chair that stands in the middle of the room, after throwing off a couple of extra curtains to a longer chair. All my stuff are still in cartons or bags. The only thing I have put together is the décor. I am yet to rearrange my personal things. At this rate, I might move in at the turn of the next century. Having discovered Kene is living just down the lane, I am not so eager to be all by myself again.

“Honey, do you know that after all that happened I still hold some resentment?”

“For your friends?”

“Yeah. I feel really betrayed, especially by Celia. She and I have known ourselves since secondary school days, although we weren’t friends then. But we could have been close if we wanted because she and I lived in the same neighborhood. And then we became close during my NYSC. I served in Kaduna state and for most part of my service year, I stayed with her and her elder brother, Joey. Then we lost contact until Shady met and fell in love with her. It was even I who facilitated the whole dating process because Joey didn’t like Shady, who was really broke at the time.

“So…yeah, I can say I feel betrayed by her. Noka and Bimpe too, but not so much. I know they have all apologized but it’s hard to let them back in like before.”

“Then maybe you and I and Kate should form our own little faction and not care so much about whether they approve or not.”

“Shey?” Mary laughs.

“I’m serious. Kate doesn’t seem to know where to place herself when she’s with them. And I don’t see why she should even care when she can be hanging out with her age mates.”

“Bobby doesn’t want that and that’s why he knocked her up.”


“But on a serious note Mary, you should tell them Celia how you feel.”

“I should, right?”

“If you can’t, I’ll help you.”

“You know you can be quite confrontational, right?”

I give an innocent expression.

“Like when Celia and Peace showed up at the door that Monday and you didn’t want to let them in?”

I recall the moment and hiss. “I was angry. I was like after all the nonsense they did the night before they had the guts to show up. To be honest, I was happy when you refused to see them.”

“I just didn’t want drama that afternoon.”

My attention is back on the daffodil painting. “Can I ask a question, Mary?”


“Do you still have feelings for Jide?”

I don’t look at her. I have no intention to make her uncomfortable. I just want her to be honest with me.


“Okay. I needed to cross that out if we’re going to be friends.”

“I respect you, Honey. And I’m not a boyfriend snatcher.”

“I never thought you were.” I leave the painting and face her. “One more thing. Who is Tarela? Elsie told me stuff about her and then I met her at your place. So, gist me about her.”

Mary’s eyes shift slightly. “Ask Jide.”

“But I’m asking you.”

“Please, ask him.”

“Mary?” I look into her eyes.

“Okay.” She drops her hands on her laps in a noisy manner. “Tarela is his ex. Did he ever tell you of a girl that slit her throat for him?”

“Elsie did but for real?” I pull a stool to sit. “Abeg, gist me.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “You sef.”

“Talk jor.”

She is about to fill me in on the juicy gist when someone knocks on my door. A woof follows and I don’t need to be told it is Kene outside with his Labrador. I walk to the door, fling it open and see him scolding the dog who is taking the liberty to pee in front of my house.

kene and dog

“Hi, Hon.”

“Put that beast away,” I order. He shortens the dog’s leash and hides it behind him.

“Hi, Hon,” he repeats.

“Kene, why are you here?”

“Answer my greeting nau.”

“Good evening. So, why are you here?”

“I noticed that your outside light has been on for some days now, so I just stopped by to see if anyone’s in and also to know if you’ll like me to help get you someone to clear the grass. It can bring snakes and other creepy-crawlies.”

“You’re stalking me.”

He laughs as if I have said something ridiculous.

“Ekenedilichukwu, the last time we met in London, you stated confidently that the next time we come across each other, I’ll be wearing your ring. Have you detected your stupidity now?”

Mirth springs from his throat. “I miscalculated. Forgive me.”

“And by the way, don’t you have a ship to be on? What’s this yeye parading you’re doing with your dog and poking your nose into your neighbors’ grasses?”

“I no longer stay offshore. I have a business of my own now.”

“I’m happy for you but here’s what: I am in a serious relationship, Kene. I’m not supposed to be repeating it to you but you suffer from amnesia once in a while. So, this is me putting it out there. Don’t ever step foot here again—you and your ugly dog—if you don’t want trouble.”

The Labrador pokes its head from behind its master and whimpers at me.

“Yes, you too. Don’t come pissing in my domot.”

“Hi there!” Kene peeks into my house and waves at Mary. She stares back without waving. The girl has developed some kind of coldness towards men.

“You won’t introduce me?” he demands.

“No. Bye, Kene.”

I shut the door in his face.

“Who was that?” Mary asks.

“My ex.”

“He lives in this same neighborhood?”

“Don’t even ask.”

I stare at my new wall clock. It’s almost 5:30pm.

“I think we start heading to Peace’s house now.”

Mary and I freshen up and then we head out. We take a short walk in the direction of where we are to pick a taxi. As we near the spot, a posh car stops beside us and the passenger window lets down, revealing Kene’s galling face. Wasn’t he just walking his dog some minutes ago?

“Going somewhere, ladies?”

I ignore him and flag down a taxi that’s driving by.

“Mary, let’s go abeg.”

We trudge to the taxi and get in. While Mary gives instructions and negotiates a fare, I reply Celia’s ping, assuring her that we are on way. I feel somewhat bad over the way I’m treating Kene but I know that if I give him even a little window, he’ll feel he has the right to crawl back in. The guy believes that since he destroyed my hymen he has the right to pop into my life any time he feels like and claim my body. I’ll have to put him in his place.

On the way to Peace’s, Mary tells me all about Tarela. The story leaves me in shock. Jazz? Voodoo dolls? Somebody will actually go that length to get back a lost love?

A shiver spreads over me as I think of Kene. I tell myself that I have to be very careful with him. I know he won’t resort to diabolical means but he should not be underestimated.

“Oga, park in front of that black gate.” Mary points and I follow her hand to see a house that is fenced in. We split the taxi fare. In a car parked across the street, I see Bimpe on the phone. Noka is behind the wheel and Celia is with them. When they spot us, they alight and cross over. We share hugs but Mary avoids them.

“Haba, Mary!” Celia forces a hug on her. “We’re sorry, baby.”

“We’ll talk later.” Mary disengages from her. “Let’s go in.”

We file into the compound, allowed in by the gateman.

“Do you guys have your speeches prepared?” Bimpe asks as we near the door.

“What speech?” Celia responds. “We’ll just walk in there, grab Sammy and hurl her ass into Noka’s car.”

“Na by force?”

“You best believe it.”

Celia knocks on the door. We wait in silence. After some seconds, the door flings open and Peace appears. She takes her time to observe us individually.

“Let me guess. Y’all here for an intervention.”

“Yes,” Celia replies. “You’re going to rehab today, madam.”

Peace rubs wrinkly, pale eyelids and takes a long sniff. She looks like someone who hasn’t eaten in days.

“Okay. I’ll go to rehab. But not today. Not now.”


“I can’t explain. Just go.”

She makes to close the door but Noka pushes it in.

“Bimpe, Honey, get her things. Celia, get Sammy. I’ll hold her.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She ducks away as Noka goes for her. “I don’t…”

Her voice lowers as Reno appears from the kitchen. In one hand, he holds their son. In the other is a crutch in which he uses to support a leg that is cast in POP. Bruises scar his face and on one side of his neck is a long cut that is in stitches.

We all stare at him in silence. He can’t look into our faces.

“He’s back,” Peace explains. “He’s sorry, he’s changed and he needs me.”

Reno returns to the kitchen.


She raises her hands and interrupts me.

“Go, please.”

“But you said you were going to leave him and fix your life up.”

“Yes. But he needs me, Honey. My husband needs me more than I need rehab right now.”

“No. You need a brain,” Celia replies. “And you both need Jesus.”

She hisses and turns away. One by one, the others also leave but I remain behind.

“I love him, Honey. I can’t leave him.”

I try to understand her words but I can’t. With a weighty heart, I follow the rest. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

tarela (2)

I have never screamed like this before. Never been loved like this before. Never had pleasure like this before.

Damn! Jide has gotten a hundred times better with sex. And I cannot believe it is even happening. This is more than a dream come true. This is paradise, incomparable to anything I have ever felt.

I am literally in tears because I can’t find any other way to express myself.

“Tarela, are you okay?”

His breath is hot on my ear, tingly on my skin. Goosebumps spread all over me and I feel myself shaking from the core.


“Please, don’t stop,” I say to him breathlessly and he drives harder into me. Oh yes! Yes! Exactly what I want. No long talk, biko.

He goes on and on and…I lose track of time.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. He reaches his climax and leaves me crying for more. But I’m not uncharitable. I’ll wait for him to build up momentum for me again and we will do this all morning and all night because at last I have my man and no woman can take him away from me.


“Mmm?” I reply lazily. My eyes are shut in bliss.

“Why do you keep calling me Jide?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’d rather I call you Tiger like I used to?”

I hear him scratch his beard. “Like you used to?”

“Yes, Tiger.” I snuggle up to him and inhale his scent but he pulls away from me.

“Where are you going?” I murmur, trying to drag him back to bed.

“I’m going home.”


“I have a girlfriend. Remember?”


“For the millionth time, Tarela. I am not Jide or Tiger. My name’s Steve.”

I laugh. “Joker. No, I’ll not call you Steve, whatever that means. You’re my tiger.” I purr.

I feel him lean over me. “Tarela?”

“Yes, Tiger?”

He gently slaps my face and my eyes flutter open. I throw my hands around his neck. He breaks away from my clutch.

“I think you need to see a doctor. A psychiatrist, maybe.”

From nowhere loud blast like a siren sounds off in my ear and gives me an instant headache. I use the heels of my palms over my eyes which are beginning to hurt as well. Images from the night before run through my mind intrusively. None of what I see make sense but I realize that something is appallingly off.

“Are you okay?” he asks and I jolt away from his gruff voice that is clearly not Jide’s. I scamper backwards as the face and body of a total stranger fills my view.

Oh God! What have I done? Who the hell did I do? Who is this guy and why is he not Jide? What’s going on?

“Okay. I think I’m going to leave. You’re really scaring me right now.”


I fling a pillow in his direction without looking at him. I am in shock, I am irritated, I am losing my mind and I so want to strangle that gypsy bitch who has messed up my head this bad! What did I do to her that she’ll do this to me?

I cover myself in my blanket and cry.

So it wasn’t Jide the whole of last night? It wasn’t him that kissed me and said and did all those amazing things?

God just kill me now!

I pull myself up to a sitting position, knees drawn to my chest. It’s hard to breathe or see or even think. I am literally shaking all over.

I reach for my phone and immediately connect with Kiya. She must explain what just happened.

“Hi Tarela.” Her ugly face pops up on my screen.

“Kiya, what did you do to me?!”

“I don’t know. It depends. You have to explain.”

“Is it because I owe you money that you’ll screw with my head like this?! Why, Kiya?!”

“I’m confused here, Tarela. And I must say, you look like hell. What happened?”

I try to reply but I can’t find a perfect sequence to describe the jumble in my head. Rather I stare around. My room is scattered; clothes, bra and panties on the floor, used condoms and cigarette butts, all signs of a night I can hardly recall. And Lord knows I was not drunk.

“I’m waiting,” Kiya says.

“I… Jide… we…”

“Tarela, you ain’t making sense.”

“Shut up let me figure this thing out!”

I get off the bed and amble around.

Okay, so a while ago I decided I had had enough of waiting around for Kiya’s voodoo to work, thus I visited Mary to put in place a plan that has been in the works. I have this friend cum neighbor who used to be a hot sugar baby but lost her status and customer base when she got knocked up by some seedy, broke dude. Due to the fact that she had done many abortions, she felt it was only wise to keep the baby. For months, she stayed in isolation and told everyone who tried to contact her that she was in the UK with some oil-rich billionaire. Now, she is nine months gone and I have somehow convinced her to opt for the services of a qualified midwife who would help her with a homebirth since she doesn’t want to be seen in public. The plan is to deliver the baby quietly and have her mother in the village take over the responsibility so she can resume active life. So far, she bought into my elaborate arrangements and Mary was supposed to help me get access to Jide.

It’s not that I can’t go straight to him but I don’t want to ruin the little window of opportunity I have, knowing how much of a toughie he can be. So, according to plan, Mary was to meet with my friend casually, build this pseudo friendship with her and then suggest Jide’s services to her while I remained in the background, easing myself into his life without him noticing it and without Mary herself even knowing she is a tool.

But stupid Mary was giving me attitude when I went to see her two weeks ago. She almost didn’t even let me in. She kept asking why I was there. And then to worsen matters, the Honey chick appeared from nowhere. Who would have thought they’d end up being friends.

Well, there went my best laid plans. The only other option was to cozy up to Honey but I’d rather have my eyes gorged out than utter a word to that man-snatcher.

So, there! Everything I planned got burnt to ashes! I was mad, I cried, I cussed, cried a little more and decided to back down for a while. I had waited five years. I could wait a little longer if it would give me the expected results.

To ward off depression, I occupied my days with activities. Last night I decided to see a movie, something I had not done in a very long time. And that was when I saw him—the guy whom I thought was Jide—and things went downhill from that point.

“But it was him, Kiya. He had his face, his eyes, spoke with his voice, kissed me with his lips. How could it not have been him?”

Kiya narrows her eyes at me and I see that she knows something.

“Oh, Tarela.” She gave out a sigh. “I warned you of this.”

“Warned me of what?”

“The spell is backfiring.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I told you that if he destroys the dolls, there would be consequences. I warned you.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, Tarela.”

“Oh God!” I crash into my bed.

“And it’s going to get worse.”


“Basically the spell was there to bring your desires to life by connecting you to him. But it works both ways as well, that was why a voodoo doll of you was needed to make it potent.”

“Wait… I’m confused here…”

“Listen! The spell was to connect your souls together, to make him want you as much as you want him but he destroyed it and freed himself from wanting you. And now, you’re screwed because you haven’t broken free yet. Your mind is distorted, your reality skewed and anytime you meet a man that is even mildly attracted to you, he instantly transforms into your Jide guy.”

I become numb. “Kiya, you can’t be serious.”

“But I warned you.”

I retreat from reality to put my thoughts together. I can hear Kiya speaking but her words make no meaning to me. I shiver as familiar darkness enshrouds me.


I break out of my stupor.

“Were you listening to me?”

My head does a dazed shake.

“I can help you. I can get you out. But apart from it being expensive, it will achieve the exact opposite of what you desire.”

“And that it is?”

“You’ll end up hating Jide passionately.”

I slip back into nothingness again. I try to think but I find a huge, dark cloud blocking my reasoning.

“Tarela, can you stop zoning out and listen to me!”

“Wh-what were you saying?”

She puffs out. “I’m giving you a choice to either continue with the way things are or just choose to hate Jide.”

“Hate Ji-de,” I echo in a low voice as tears find their way down my cheeks. Why can’t I go back to the days when he loved me? That’s what I want. That’s all I want.

“Kiya, I can’t hate Jide.” My voice is cowed, a reflection of my state of mind.

“Well, you do have the choice of loving him in other men, which is not bad because you get to live in your warped fantasy. The downside would be that the more you live that way, the farther Jide will get from you.”


“It means you will never cross paths with him again. Destiny will tear you guys apart, even if you’re just one mile away from each other.”

I laugh in disbelief. “You’re talking crap. Bullshit! I can just go to his house right now and see him.”

“You can but you will never be able to see him, Tarela. He is lost to you for eternity.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ts and Cs, Tarela. There are always terms and conditions.”

“You never told me!”

“You never asked.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“I am. You will never lay your eyes on him again.”


I smash my phone to the floor in anger. Revolting bitch telling me trash!

But like something out of a horror movie, I hear her laughter and look down to see my phone still on, her face still on my screen.


I pick the phone, march to the toilet and toss it into the toilet bowl. Without looking back, I enter my bedroom and fall on the bed. After several minutes of crying, everything around me begins to fade alongside my present reality.

I find myself in the past. Jide is lying on my bed. It’s a dark night. I’m sleepy; he’s holding my hand. He kisses my fingers. A bedside lamp illuminates his calm face as he gazes into my eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Tari.”

I smile hazily.

“And I love you.”

I shut my eyes…



Iya – mother

Yeye – useless, nonsense

Domot – front porch, verandah


Image credits: dailykos.com, hospitalbusinessnews.comwoodrowporter.mywapblog.com


It’s Another Saturday…#19

Read previous episodes of It’s Another Saturday

Peace Or Pieces?

Honey has been in hushed conversation with her elder sister for almost an hour. I had respectfully asked to be excused. I withdrew to my room to give them privacy but I have been restless. I still don’t trust Jane. Her excuse for showing up in town by this time is that she left Warri really late and did it without the knowledge of her siblings. How am I supposed to believe that?

I stretch out on my bed, my phone in hand. There’s nothing trending online and so I put my phone down and recall Honey’s question about Tarela. How did she find out about her? Did Mary let something slip?

My phone vibrates. I pick it. Tola’s calling. I hesitate to answer as my mind tries to figure out what the call is about.

Has it got to do with Mary’s case? Or something about Emeka? Or is it about our dirty history together?

I choose to ignore the call. It rings out and she calls yet again. Like before, I ignore the call.

A text comes in.

Dede, I’m not trying to get into your pants. Answer my call.

I smile. She has switched from addressing me as Uncle Jide to Dede these days. Well, I kind’a like it because it strips that unfortunate night we shared from my memory.

She is calling again. I answer her.

“Dede, good evening, sir.”

“Stop being silly, Tola. Why are you calling?”

“I’m calling to report your brother to you o.”

“What did he do now?”

“Over the past week he has been chatting with his baby mama. Initially, I thought it was harmless because she always sends Tobe’s pictures to him.”

Tobe is Emeka’s son.

“But recently, I noticed the chats were becoming of a personal nature and he has been calling her too or she will call him and they’ll talk like forever. The one that just happened this night was that she called and after they finished talking, he turned to me and said she wants to visit Nigeria.”


“I’m pissed! He has already gone to see Tobechi, so why does she need to come? And what is unfair is that momsi has kind’a been putting the idea in his head as well, that she wants to see her grandson. Me, I’m not finding it funny o! Nobody is thinking of me and how I’m feeling about the whole thing.”

Is this babe serious at all? She’s calling to report my brother and mother to me and expect that I’ll take her side because we once humped?

“Tola, first things first. Tobe is Emeka’s son as much as he’s Yazmin’s. There will always be communication between them but you should not let it bother you because Yazmin is not in your area code. Then about momsi, are you serious at all? The old woman just wants to see her first grandson; she is not trying to make your love life complicated.”

“But she calls Yazmin and they talk all the time. She doesn’t call me like that.”

“Because you are always with her, Omotola.”

“She likes her more than me because I don’t have a child for Mex. Is that it?”


“Or is she still judging me over what happened between me and you?”

I ignore the statement.

“You want her to be calling you like that too? When she starts now it will be that your mother-in-law doesn’t want you to rest.”

“I don’t care. She’s not just my mother-in-law. She’s my mom as well. Let her call me the way she calls Yazmin.”

I laugh. Tola is like Honey in so many ways. I don’t know why they don’t get along.

“Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“And talk to Mex too.”

Tola is stress. I don’t know what she wants me to tell Emeka but I promise her that I’ll talk to him just to get her off my line.

“Thanks, Dede.”

“Good night, Tola.”

I hang up and hear someone knocking on my door. Before I answer, I hear Jane’s voice.

“Jideofor, please come.”

Curiously, I follow her out to the sitting room where I find Honey, eyes red and face distorted in anger. I have never seen that expression on her before. She is staring at some spot on the floor and wouldn’t even look up when I walk in.

“Sit down, Jideofor.” Jane points to a chair as though she owns the house and I’m the guest.

I sit guardedly.

“Talk to Honey,” she says to me. “She wants to go to Warri to fight our seniors and I’m begging her not to.”

I’m surprised at what I’ve just been told. Honey wants to fight her siblings? That’s new. Looks like I have finally gotten across to her.

“It is not advisable at all. Not now. Not ever!” Jane emphasizes.

“Sorry but might I ask why?”

“They are not human beings. Yes, they are family but they are not human beings. Erhinyuse!” Jane pulls her ear. “Don’t be stubborn!”

Next, she says something in their dialect of which Honey retorts to rather furiously. I am left in the dark.

“Jideofor,” Jane addresses me again, “what I’m about to tell you is what I told Honey that put her in this mood you’re seeing. I could have shut my mouth and kept it a secret as it has been all these years but I felt she ought to know and be aware of the type of people she’s up against.”


“My elder brothers, sister and my mom’s relatives have a hand behind Honey’s mother’s death.”

She stops and lets the breaking news sink in.

“But you did not hear it from me. I am taking great risk to relay this information to you. In short, they have no idea I am here. I left the family house and told them I was going to spend the night with a friend but I went to the park and picked a ride to come here since Honey has been avoiding my calls. The reason why I took this great risk is because they have sworn to deal with her if she fights them over her inheritance. Note my emphasis on it being hers. It is not theirs. Our father sold off all he had when he was first diagnosed with cancer and shared the money equally amongst four of us. Honey was excluded. And he told us directly that all he has left is his wife’s money which belongs to Honey alone.”

“Please could you go back to the point where you said they killed her mother?”

“I was there, Jideofor. I was on holidays from school at the time and the only one at home with Mommy Fatima. All my siblings were by then, married. Our dad had traveled out of town. That day was a Thursday and our aunt, my mom’s younger sister, visited. She had come in from Asaba. She said she was passing through to Ore and was spending the night with us. To be honest, I don’t know what she did or how she did it but by Friday morning, Mommy Fatima was vomiting and purging. It started like joke but it got to the point where all she was vomiting was saliva and water. I had to call our neighbor to take her to the hospital. The doctor called me aside and told me straight up that she was poisoned. He said he didn’t know what she had ingested but that he would try his best to make sure she is fine. By the time he treated her, she was feeling better. Saturday evening, daddy came and we took her home. But by Sunday, she started feeling terrible again. She was vomiting blood this time. Daddy wanted to take her to the hospital but she refused and told him right in my hearing that it was going to be a waste of time because she has seen her death already in a dream…”

Honey breaks into a muffled cry and I leave my seat to hers. She buries her face on my neck.

“That night Mommy Fatima spoke to Honey and also called her family members in Eritrea. After her last phone call, she instructed me to make her tea with lime; that her tongue tasted terrible and she wanted something sour to kill the taste. I entered the kitchen to prepare the tea and came back and saw her head on daddy’s chest. He was talking to her but I did not know she was already gone.”

Honey squeezes the collar of my shirt as her body shakes in sobs.

“I was like ‘Mommy Fatima, I’ve brought your tea’ and daddy went like ‘Shhh! You’ll wake her.’ So I put the tea on a stool beside the bed and was about leaving when I saw blood sipping from her nose. I said, ‘Daddy, look! Blood is coming out from her nose.’ And he said very quietly, ‘I know.’ Then I saw tears in his eyes and that was when I knew she was dead.”

“I will never forgive them,” Honey swears.

“They poisoned her, Jideofor. For no reason, they killed her. I was in shock for a long time and even up until today, I find it hard believing that they did it.”

“And your dad knew.”

“He did but he never spoke about it until the day he called in his lawyer to write his will about a month ago. I had been taking care of him because he didn’t like the nurse the hospital had assigned to him. So I handed over my shop and kids to my sister-in-law and went to the family house to stay with him. The day the lawyer came, Harry also visited. Daddy was dictating his will in my hearing and with two witnesses. As he was about finishing, Harry burst in, ordered me and the lawyer and the witnesses out, but I refused to leave. I stayed in and watched him tell daddy to ensure that the rest of us were included in the will. Daddy replied him in clear terms that he will not change his mind. I sat there and watched Harry insult him, telling him he hated him and was never going to forgive him for marrying a woman that tore the family apart. But daddy was unmoved. When Harry finished his insults, daddy said, and I quote: ‘the worst you people can do is kill me like you killed my wife. And it will be bliss for me because I’m in so much pain right now.’ Harry then replied,’ so you want to be stubborn, old man! You want to be stubborn abi?! We’ll see!” Then he stormed out and refused to see daddy until he died.”

Jane’s story has left me with goosebumps. Honey pulls away from me and that initial anger I saw has returned. It stays strong behind moisture-filled eyes.

“That is why I am here to beg Use in the name of God to leave them for God’s judgment.”

“Never!” Honey retorts. “They killed my mom and now they want to take her wealth and I should let them? What rubbish!”

“Sister Jane, with all due respect, Honey is right. We can’t just let them get away with all they’ve done. We know we can’t prove that they had a hand in our late mother’s death but we can stop them from stripping Honey of what is rightfully hers.”

“They can’t even do it.”

“But that’s what they want to do.”

“They can’t.” Jane has an assuring smile on her face. “The only reason why they think they can is because they believe that with the will in their possession, they can coax Honey into signing over everything to them but I repeat that they can’t.”

She is beginning to sound like a phrase in a song on repeat and why is that smile still on her lips?

She opens her bag and pulls out a black folder which she hands to Honey.

“I took this from Harry three days ago, photocopied it and replaced it with the photocopies.”

“What’s this?”

“Daddy’s last will and testament. It’s all in your hands now and that is why you should forget about everything and live your life like we never existed.”

Honey is speechless. She opens the folder and together we confirm that it is her father’s will. She looks at Jane.

“You did this for me?”

Jane is the one with wet eyes now. “I haven’t gotten over the horror of that weekend your mom died. It was terrifying. She went just like that! So fast! And none of us could do anything. She didn’t want us to.”

“I think she was tired of everything she had gone through and she just wanted to rest from it all.” Honey closes the folder. “Thank you, sister. And I’m sorry I didn’t pick your calls. I was mad at everyone.”

“I understand.”

“But you took a risk coming here, sister.”

“And that’s why I’m not going back there.” She laughs whilst wiping her eyes. “My husband and I are going on this short vacation to Dubai tomorrow. He’s been here since Saturday, waiting for me. We’ll be in Dubai until the children resume school. By then I’ll have the energy to face them if they get on my case.”

Honey walks over to her and gives her a hug. I watch both sisters struggle with their tears and remind myself how blessed I am to have a loving family and siblings that would do anything and everything to ensure my happiness. I want Honey to have the same type of home with me in the future.

“I should be leaving.” Jane draws her legs together and lifts her handbag to rest them on her knees. I look at the time on my watch. It’s almost midnight.

“Go to bed, sugar,” I instruct Honey. “I’ll be right back.”

They share another hug before I lead Jane out of the house. The journey to her hotel and back home takes me twenty minutes tops. I return to find Honey, burrowed in bed covers. I slip in beside her and she naturally snuggles up to me.

“For the first time in my life I am grateful that Jane is a kleptomaniac,” she mutters.

I throw in a laugh without meaning to. Honey joins me.

“Like really, her stealing ways saved those assholes from the fire of my wrath. I was ready for them… And I’m still angry. I don’t think I can forgive them, Jide.”

I don’t reply immediately. I palm her butt and draw her closer. Her hair is in my face; she smells of apples.

“You have gotten what is rightfully yours and no one can take it from you. That’s all that matters. I think you can let go now.”

She makes no reply. We stay in silence, listening to neighborhood dogs howl into the night. And then for some reason, Honey is turned on. And I am not. I just want to sleep but she insists on making love. She says she is restless and would sleep better if she ‘feels’ me. I tell her we’re out of condoms. She begins to bug my pleasure zones and I’m weak to resist. I inform her that she’ll be on top but she begs me to be in charge. She doesn’t say why but I understand she has this need to be loved. This is not just sex for her; it’s a release from all the turmoil going on inside.

I’m ready for her in no time. There’s no foreplay or urgency. Just really low-key lovemaking that leaves Honey in an emotional state. Each time I try to stop, she holds me back in; and that’s like double the pleasure of what I’m normally used to.

I’ve not had unprotected sex in seven years. And damn! Honey feels like Elysium. I can’t quite put into words the sensations I’m feeling. Plus, there is this connection that wasn’t there before. It’s like all this time I have been simulating. Right here, right now, is where I am supposed to be. I think I can finally understand what my mom means when she says sexual intercourse is spiritual because I think Honey and I just got into something new.

I take it slow as the pleasure builds, although I badly want to let go. With Honey working me to insanity with her walls, it’s hard to stay focused. I try but I find myself falling. I eventually let go and collapse on her chest, helpless. She holds me tightly.

“I feel better. Thank you,” she whispers.

“No, thank you. You don’t know what you just did to me.”

I kiss her lips and chin and slip away from her embrace to lie beside her. She finds comfort in my arms again and not long after, we are both drifting off.

“Take a pill tomorrow, sugams,” I whisper.

“Mm,” she replies.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

Honey is up before me in the morning. I wake up to find her all dressed.

“What time is it?”


I sit up. I have a client I need to see.

“So, I’m going to see Nne today,” she announces. “Then I’m off to Kalu’s office for business talks.”

“He’s back?”


“Okay. Have fun,” I say, heading to the bathroom.

“I’m not in a hurry. I’m actually here until ten o’clock.”

She follows me to the bathroom. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I need a shave.

“So why are you all dressed if you’re leaving in three hours?” I ask her as I lift up the toilet seat.

“Oh. I’m on my period. Got up around five to pee and there it was!” She giggles. “Looks like my special diet is working. I’m beginning to feel like a normal woman again.”

“Happy for you,” I reply wittily, thinking of the lack of sex I have to endure for the next five days.

“Do you think I should go natural with my hair? You saw Jane yesterday. That was all her hair. And mine can be longer if I let it grow naturally. You think I should?”

“It’s your business. Just don’t start wearing Ankara along with it. You’ll just weird me out.”

She grins. “I’m not trying to be Chimamanda.”

I flush the toilet and turn on the shower as she walks out.

Note to self: Buy condoms, bros. Last night, as awesome as it was, should never repeat itself.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞


The room is a mess when I wake up. Clothes everywhere, dirty dishes from last night’s dinner, a knife I had used in slicing onions, soiled diapers, my bra, a wig and some other nameless stuff litter the floor.

It’s like this every morning. The maid comes in during the day and cleans the house to perfection but by evening, Shady, our little girl and I, mess it up again. I always pretend not to notice the unuttered grumble on the maid’s lips that leaves her mouth in an angry pout every time she goes about her business. When she decides to speak, she complains that her pay is not enough, of which I’ll angrily yap back at her to quit if she’s tired.

Shady doesn’t like that I do that. He wants me to be considerate and sweet-talking but I’m just too frustrated to care these days. I don’t need him telling me what to do. I need him to help me get a job! This is not the life I projected for myself. I never wanted to settle into being a housewife. I had only gone off the job scene for a while to care for our baby just to realize that getting back in was much harder than I thought.

Dara is a year and eight months already and I still haven’t gotten a job. And Shady’s salary is barely getting us by. I long gave up on luxuries that came so easy for me and these days I have to manage the foodstuff because we cut back on so many things. Even money for my hair is always a problem. I keep my locks plaited neatly and use a wig whenever I can’t afford salon appointments. My friends have no idea what I’m going through. They have this perception that Shady is stingy but he isn’t. My poor husband is working his ass off in a job where they pay him less than he’s worth. I wish he would pursue his dreams, though. He’s such an amazing actor but for reasons unknown to me, he refuses to seek a career in the movie industry.

He is stressed out and frustrated as I am and it is taking a toll on our individual and married lives. Sex has become bland and if we’re not worrying about the rent, then we’re fighting each other over one thing or the other.

Take for instance, this morning. He gets up in a bad mood and has decided to take it out on me. First, he ignores my greeting and then asks me why I have left Dara’s dirty diaper on the floor.

I give him no answer and pick the diaper. When I come back to the room, I find him fixing the place up himself.

“Shady, the maid will come and do this. You’re late for work. Go and shower.”

He acts as if he’s deaf.

“Shady, go and shower.” I snatch my bra from his hand. “Leave what you’re doing–”


I recoil.

“You always want to be the man in this relationship and I am tired! I am fed up! You make me feel small and inconsequential and I have had enough! If I want to clean the room, is it your hand I’m using?! Why can’t you just let a man be?!”

I slump into the bed dazedly. I have no idea what just happened.

“Shady?” I can barely hear my own voice. “What did I do?”

He continues to tidy up the room and when he is done I notice he has only succeeded in moving the mess from one place to another. But that is the least of my concerns; my brain is trying to work out why Shady would lash out at me the way he just did.

“Shady, talk to me nau.”

“So you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Okay. You’ll soon know.”

He stomps out to the kitchen with the dirty dishes and comes back with a broom. I stop him as he begins sweeping.

“Shadrach, talk to me.”

“Before we left this house to Jide’s yesterday, what did I tell you?”

I hold on to the broomstick as I try to recall the previous evening. But nothing comes to mind.

“Didn’t I tell you not to take sides in the Mary and Reno drama?” Shady interrogates.

“You did,” I answer quietly.

“Then why did you go there to bash your friend?!”

I become wordless.

“You accused her of wanting to break Reno’s home! You opened your mouth and exposed that Reno and Peace were not having sex! You became judge, jury and executioner! Who asked you?!”

Oh boy. I’m so in for it today. Shady is really angry.

“Even when I told you to tread carefully, you dismissed me like a small boy! Embarrassed me in front of our friends! Because you are madam and you must talk! You must use your mouth to bring somebody down if not you won’t feel good about yourself!”

I don’t feel good about myself presently. Shady is right. I was a massive bitch to Mary last night.

“Even when it became clear that Reno was lying, you still wouldn’t stop! You were defending him at all cost ‘cause when I can’t buy you that hair or that dress or that pair of shoes, it is Peace who always takes you shopping!”

“No, Shady.”

“Yes, Celia!”

I’m not the type to cry easily but there’s this thing in my throat that begs to be released in tears. Shady has just bared open my heart and what I see inside stinks. Did I really take Reno’s side yesterday and emasculate my husband just for the little gifts Peace hands down to me now and then?

Shady enters the bathroom for a shower and I stand right where he has left me and go through yesterday’s events again. The more I ponder on the matter, the more I see my faux pas and the more I realize Reno is guilty.

When Shady is through with his shower and he walks back in, I apologize to him. He fronts a little but he ultimately lets the whole thing slide after I promise to visit Mary and ask her forgiveness over the mindless and hurtful utterances I made.

“So does that mean you and Reno are no longer friends?” I ask Shady.

“We are. Just not like before. All I need is proof that he raped Mary and he’s history.”

I ponder on Shady’s words as I make breakfast. If Reno really is guilty as we all suspect, then the only way to find out will be through Peace. But Peace is not the type to let out a secret. She is that type of woman that will kill with her right hand and her left hand will be oblivious of what she has done.

I come up with a plan to visit and charm her into spilling out something. I doubt that it will work, though. She is always on her guard when it comes to issues concerning Reno. She can defend him to death.

Shady leaves for work and the maid arrives. I give her a few instructions before leaving the house. Since Shady has taken the car today, I pick a bus to Peace’s area. I stopped being able to afford cab rides a long time ago.

I alight from the bus and proceed on a ten-minute walk to Peace’s house. The gateman lets me in. I walk to the front door to find it wide open. Usually, I’d have to ring the bell and endure listening to some gospel song from the 1950s  before Peace shows up at the door. Today, I enter and rather than gospel music, I hear Peace’s seven month-old son screaming his lungs out. It doesn’t take me long to pick out his location.

“Peace!” I call out.

Little Sammy, having heard my voice, increases the tempo of his cry. I hurry to the kitchen and find him on the floor in a half-crawl, half-sitting position. His diaper is heavily soiled and poop is spilling from the corners.

“Peace o! Why did you leave Dara’s husband like this nau?!”

I put my handbag away and lift Sammy up, trying my best to avoid being soiled by poop. I take him to his nursery and find the place in a mess.


I turn on the water heater and begin to strip off his clothes. The boy refuses to pipe down. I’m sure he has not had anything to eat. I start to placate him with a song I usually sing to Dara but it seems my efforts only get him more incensed.

While waiting for the water to heat up, I wipe him with a towel and take him in my arms to check on Peace in her bedroom. I find it empty.


Sammy begins another bout of tears again and I’m forced to go back and manage the bath water as lukewarm as it is. I wash him clean, change his clothes and feed him whilst trying to reach Peace on her phone. Each time I try, it rings off the hook. I give up and decide to call Reno but only after I tie Sammy on my back and get him to finally calm down.

I dial Reno. Like Peace, his phone rings out. Strange.

I am about to leave the house to ask the guard if Peace had stepped out earlier when I remember that I have not checked the guest room.

I walk there, push the door in and see Peace lying on the floor. For a second, I lose my breath because she looks dead. But I see a finger move and a bottle of Red Label lying half-consumed at her feet. It is at this point something her former housemaid once told me came back to mind.

“She dey drink like fish! Squadi! Shelsea o! Star o! Gooda, Palmy, all of dem! She dey drink! In short, she dey use Squadi soak garri! Chop cornflakes  sef! After she go brush teeth, put Tom-tom for mouth, tie head-tie, carry Bible, go church!”

That information had been revealed to me on the occasion of some fight between Peace and the maid. Peace told me she fired her for stealing from her but the maid denied the claims and said Peace fired her because she gave her unsolicited advice about her alcohol addiction.

I had laughed off the maid’s version of the story; it had seemed ridiculous a tale and even more outrageous that Peace, of all persons, would be addicted to alcohol. She was the calmest, most peaceful, most Holy Ghost sister I knew. How could she be an alcoholic?

But now as I look at her in her pathetic state, I can’t help but evoke clear signs I missed. The constant trembling hands, blotchy skin, red eyes, memory loss, blackouts, loss of interest and yes, the Tom-tom addiction. But God! She hid the signs well. Isn’t there that saying that the best place to hide something is right where everyone can see it?

We were with her the entire time and never saw that she was nursing an addiction that was slowly killing her. Reno wasn’t the only thorn in her flesh.

“Peace,” I call.

She doesn’t stir. I make a fist and give the door a loud thump that makes her head jerk off the floor. Beneath her, I see vomit. I retch.

She swivels her head left and right and manages to widen her eyes. I hit the door again. She raises her head higher and aims her eyes at me.


“It’s not Reno.”

But she doesn’t seem to hear me.

“Ray, you’re back? You’re not angry again?” She slurs. Her tiny voice comes off sounding like a five year Old’s.

“I was only joking… I won’t tell them… that you… you told me you raped Mary… I promise. I won’t say anything.”

She burps. “I pro…mise…”

Her head falls back to the floor again and I don’t know when tears leave my eyes and begin their way down my face.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not crying for her or for Mary. I am crying for Reno and what is about to befall him.

I pull out my phone from my pocket and dial my elder brother’s number. He is a lieutenant colonel in the army. I haven’t spoken to him in a while but he takes my call without hesitation as he usually does. Side note: he’s been madly in love with Mary for years but I have discouraged the two from hooking up because she’s too calm for his crazy.

Young African American soldier talking on cell phone.

“Cee, this one that you called me today, I hope it’s to tell me that my wife is now ready for me? Her diamond ring is gathering dust here o.”

“Joey…” I sigh. And then I tell him everything.

My talkative brother goes silent. For a really long time.


“I’ll send my boys,” he replies brusquely and the line goes dead.


image credits: getty images, hdimagelib.com


It’s Another Saturday…#18

He Said, She Said

“Reno would never do such a thing! Never! Mary is lying and God will punish her!”

I don’t care for Peace’s high-pitched voice screaming at me or her words conveyed in anger. I don’t care that my friends are split over the issue and the guys are giving me this look like I have just committed murder. I have done nothing but give Reno what he deserves. The doctor says he’s fine. I was not stupid enough to kill him; I only wanted him to feel pain.

“I will never forgive you, Jideofor! You or Mary! Never!”

I continue to act like Peace is an insect buzzing in some desert where no one exists. We are all settled in the waiting room of the hospital. My friends are here for Reno; I’m here for Mary. I am told she is still with Tola.

“Ah! Mary, you’re the devil!” Peace tempers on. “Mary that I took into my house when she was having accommodation issues?! Mary that I regard as my own sister?!”

Everyone is quiet, even the nurses at their station. They have tried to calm her but she is bent on raving like a mad woman. Let her carry on. I don’t give a damn. If this incident tears our circle apart, fine and good but I will not have any regrets over what I have done. In fact, if Reno steps out of that emergency room and he utters any word that pisses me off, I will continue where I left off.

“Jide, make we yarn.”

I look up to see Bobby standing over me. I get to my feet. As we head outside, Bright, Ibro and Shady join us.

“Did he really do it?” Bobby questions when we step out to the parking lot of the hospital.

“Don’t ask me that type of question, Bobby. No vex me dis evening.”

“Abeg, calm down,” he scolds. “We’re not saying Mary is lying. We just want to know the details.”

“I’ve known Reno for like twenty-six or so years, Bobby. He and Shady and I grew up together. We are like brothers. All of you know how tight we are, so does it make sense that I would just get up like that and accuse him blindly if I didn’t have proof?”

“What is your proof?” Shady chops my eyes with his. For the sake of our friendship, I relate almost word for word, what Mary shared with me. When I’m done, Ibro and Bobby think they may have reason to believe Mary, owing to Reno’s brazen sexual indiscretions. Shady, on the other hand is even more incensed now that he’s heard the story.

“Why didn’t you ask him his version before you went for his nuts?” he questions me.

“So that he’ll tell me it was consensual?”

“What if it was?”

“Shady, wetin dey do you? You think Mary would just cook up something this serious from nowhere? She has never lied to me. And you had to be there to see her. She won’t even let me touch or go near her. What will she gain by accusing Reno of rape?”

“She wants to ruin his marriage! What else?! She is desperate! Was she not the same person that stripped for you?!”

I cannot believe my ears. “Get off my face, abeg.”

“Guys, let’s wait for Reno to tell his own side of the story first,” Bright suggests. “Worst case scenario, it would be his word against Mary’s. But at least we would have heard both sides.”

“And then what?” I demand.

“Na wa o, Jideofor, calm down, dude.” Bobby rests a hand on me. “We’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

These guys have no idea the enormity of what just happened. This is beyond he said, she said. A woman has been violated. Whether we move past it or not, she will never be the same.

“Mehn, whatever.”

We head back in at the exact moment Mary and Tola are coming out to the waiting room. No one is on the alert, so we are unable to foresee Peace’s attack on Mary until she dashes towards her and claws her neck with her fingernails. Tola steps in too late. Mary is already bleeding from the onslaught. She holds her neck and keeps her head lowered.

“You will die in hell!” Peace screeches as Noka holds her back. “Liar! Prostitute! Ingrate! Devilish serpent!”

“Oh God, this is not happening.”

Celia holds a hanky to her eyes. Bimpe also looks distraught. As I walk towards Mary, an elderly nurse appears and requests that everyone, except relatives of patients, should leave. I ask Honey to stay behind. Peace also stays back, now having been calmed by Noka and Bimpe. I notice that the women have avoided Mary. None of them as much as utters a word to her. My heart breaks at the way things are going.

Tola leads us back to her office and commences on treating Mary while Honey and I sit back and watch. Jason Derullo is singing from a laptop on Tola’s table. The sound is somewhat soothing.

“In my SS3 I was raped by my Physics teacher,” Tola reveals as she applies antiseptic over Mary’s injury. “No one believed my story because they said I liked boys and wore my uniform shorter than everyone else’s, so they concluded that I had seduced the man and he rebuffed my advances and I decided to spoil his name. Even my own mom didn’t believe me. I was a disgrace to her; so she withdrew me from the school and sent me to a more conservative one where we were required to fast every Friday and pray every other second.”

She dumps a bloodstained cotton wool into a metal bin at her feet and reaches for clean gauze.

“I’m sorry, why am I telling you this story?” She stops for a bit and slants her head in my direction. “You should not let this pass, Jide. That beast should go to jail.”

She completes her work in silence and cleans up. The door creaks on her way out. Mary informs us that she is ready to go home. Honey invites her to sleep at ours but she declines. No one speaks in the car on the way to hers until I kill the engine just outside her apartment.

“I don’t want to report to the police.”

My fingers tighten around the wheel.

“Peace is my friend,” Mary continues. “She’s been good to me. I don’t want to do anything to hurt her.”

I inhale and release my breath quietly to put a lid on my inner hero that demands justice. I feel like a failure, not being able to convince Honey to fight for what is rightfully hers; and now, I’m going to sit and watch Reno get away with what he has done to Mary.

“I want to travel home to see my mom. I’ll be leaving tomorrow evening.”

“Mary, please don’t go.”

“No, Jide. I can’t stay here right now. Did you see the way them Celia were looking at me?”

“I wasn’t looking at you like that, Mary.” Honey turns around and stretches a hand to touch her. She shrinks away. “Jide wasn’t. Tola wasn’t. That should count.”

“No, you don’t understand, Honey. These women have been my friends for like forever. And now…” Mary slowly swivels her head left and right. She is tired. She is weak.

“Thank you, Honey. Thank you, Jide. But I don’t want this to separate you from them. I’ll travel for a while and come back when everything has cooled off.”

“Mary, please…”

She opens the door and comes down from the car. I jab my forehead on the steering. Honey places a hand on my back.

“Everything will be okay,” she whispers. I doubt her words.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

I know very little about Mary apart from the fact that she is Jide’s closest female friend and had recently expressed her feelings for him. I also know that she doesn’t really like me, evidence of this was at Emeka and Tola’s wedding where she acted as if I was non-existent. I can’t really say I like her too or even want to be friends with her but one thing I know is that for each time I looked at her last night, I saw a shattered woman. She reminded me of Saratu in our first year in school after she was raped by her cousin. The distinct similarity in both cases is the expression of shock mixed with wretchedness. It will take a while for Mary to heal; just as it took for Saratu, but that was only because Sara had a strong support system. Mary has only Jide and I.

“Sugar lips?”

I pick the breakfast tray before me and step out of the kitchen. I don’t know if Jide will like the scrambled eggs I have whipped up. I’m still new to this cooking thing but so far, I have learned to prepare quite a good number of meals. I wouldn’t call scrambled eggs a full meal, though. It was pretty easy to prepare and the presentation is flawless but I have gleaned that taste is what really matters. I pray Jide likes it.

I walk into his room. He is having one of those I’d-prefer-to-walk-around- my-house-nude moments. The sight of him is distracting, but I know he’s not going to be in the mood for anything right now. He’ll be off to work in the next hour.

“Have you seen my black Ralph Lauren t-shirt? The new one?”


He begins to fling clothes to the floor from his wardrobe. He is still carrying his bad mood from last night. I place the tray on the bed and stand to watch him mess up the room I have painstakingly organized. He and I need to have a talk soon. I plan to get myself an apartment far away from him. I don’t believe in shacking up with a man until marriage. I feel it undervalues a woman. You give him sex constantly, he sees you naked all the time, you part with your privacy, you provide wifely duties; and in the end, when he is tired he might just dump you. But when you live on your own, your worth and importance increases and the distance will no doubt, make the heart fonder. Apart from that, I have never moved in with a man before and I don’t intend to do so now. I love my freedom. Not long ago, a husband was all I needed but now that I’m just about to build my future, I see myself in all sides of light. However, I’m not sure Jide would like the idea of me getting my own apartment. He is already asking when I’ll move the rest of my stuff in.

“You made breakfast?”

I turn. I was actually on my way out of the room; I can’t stand his moody air. It choked me the whole of last night.


He softens in a smile. I mush up. It’s things like this that might change my mind from moving to my own place. He just knows how to get me with his smiles.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I hope I don’t poison you, though.”

He smiles again but with some distraction, as he faces his wardrobe.

“Jide, you have more than a dozen black t-shirts. Just pick another one.”

“No. I want the Polo.”

I stop to think. “This is not about the Polo, is it?”

He looks at me.

“You’re upset because you feel helpless over Mary’s case, the same way you still feel helpless over the situation with my siblings.”

He keeps on throwing things to the floor. “You’ve never been so wrong. What has a Ralph Lauren got to do with the things you just mentioned?”

“Jide, I told you things will be okay. Mary will get her justice and I’ll get mine.”

He pauses again. “You think so?”

“I know so. Bad times come but they go. Don’t let them weigh you down.”

“Okay. Still doesn’t help me find my Polo, though.”

The guy is just impossible. I go back into the kitchen for my breakfast. Because I was experimenting with making scrambled eggs earlier, I wasted a lot of fresh eggs and now all I have to eat is cereal. I don’t mind though. I throw in some of my special muesli into a big cup. I am on a fertility diet to restore my regular menstrual cycle which is yet to recover from flight mode.

breakfast in bed2

I walk back to the room and see Jide gorging on his food.

“You like?”

He bobs his head up and down. “Really nice. Really, really nice. If you keep cooking like this, you’ll cause fight because I’ll just abandon momsi’s meals.”

“Abeg o.”

I sit beside him and turn on my laptop. He starts to tutor on me on the basics of running the website he opened for my business. He’s impressed that I’m a quick learner. I get a kiss when I point out a shorter route to adding images to a post.

“So when are you moving in?” he asks unexpectedly, his lips behind a cup of coffee. I throw my eyes off.

“Nne is not going to be happy if she discovers we’re living together,” I reply.

“Nne is not your boyfriend, is she?”


“So tell me something else, not this Nne excuse.”

I can’t escape the seriousness in his eyes.

“Can I think about it, hotstuff?”

“Sure. But I hope I’m not pressuring you, though.”


I don’t know why I can’t tell him my plans. I guess I don’t want to hurt him, because he has all these other plans for us.

“Can I have Mary’s number?” I ask.


We continue eating.

“Mind I ask what for?”

I spill what has been on my mind all morning.

“Well…I approve, if that’s okay with you,” he says.

“It is.”

He looks at me and points out, “You remember I told you she stripped for me, right?”


“And you’re cool with that?”

“It’s not about me or you right now, Jide. She needs us.”

“And I need you.” I don’t miss the desire in his voice, and before I reply, I am wrenched by my feet and dragged towards him. He places himself between my legs and starts to kiss his way up my body. I complain that I’ve not showered; he ignores me. He weakens my resistance easily (see why I want my own place?) and I can’t stop him. I’m beginning to respond to his fondling when we’re interrupted by my phone. I don’t need to check to know it’s Jane calling. I have already assigned a special ringtone for her because of the way she has bugged me since the past day. This is the third time this morning and I’m just about fed up. I pick the phone and send her a quick SMS, informing her to text whatever it is she has to say. I dump the phone aside and continue with Jide. In-between taking him off my underwear and me biting his lower lip, I hear a notification sound alerting me that I have an SMS. I am too engrossed in my man to care abeg.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

I hear the window on my right squeak open and a curtain sliding apart. I give a smile and wait. Not long after, the door before me opens and Mary stands, staring at me curiously. Her eyes are still swollen from last night. She has this overall sallow look on her.

“Hi Mary,” I greet.

“Hi Honey.”

“Can I come in? I know I should have called before coming but I suspected you would give me some excuse, so…”

She steps aside to let me in and locks the door behind us. I find she is not alone in the room; there is some chick who is glaring at me with hostile eyes.

“Hi,” I say to her and take the chair Mary has offered. I notice that the chick doesn’t reply my greeting.

“Tarela, meet Honey, Jide’s girlfriend,” Mary introduces.

“Jide’s girlfriend,” she repeats.

“Yeah. Honey, this is my friend, Tarela.”

Again, the arrogant human being doesn’t spare a greeting. I turn my eyes from her and absorb Mary’s comfy space. It is well-arranged and colorful. I notice a pair of matching pink suitcases on the floor. She had not been joking about leaving.

“Tari,” she faces her friend, “we’ll talk when I return from my trip. Right now, I have to do something important.”

Tarela doesn’t seem pleased to be dismissed. She stands up and forces on a phony smile whilst hugging Mary. After that, she breezes past me like I’m air.

Weird. And totally bitchy.

Mary locks the door after her and gives me her attention.

“Mary…” I move forward on the chair, “I know we don’t know each other very well but you are Jide’s friend and that means you are part of my life too. It means you’re my friend. And that is why I’m here to let you know that I completely stand behind you. I don’t know Reno or what he is capable of but I know that you were not lying. I saw it in your eyes yesterday and I still see it now. I can’t imagine what you went through, and if I were you, I’d probably find someplace to hide too. But Mary…you’ll only be giving him power if you leave. You will be giving your friends reason to doubt you…”

“They already doubt me.” Mary sits on her bed in a dazed manner.

“I know. I saw all that yesterday and it’s really sad.”

“You think you know someone until stuff like this happens.” She is staring blankly at the floor. “They actually think I cooked the story up.”

“And that is why I think you shouldn’t go. If you do, you’ll be giving them reason to think you’re lying.”

“I don’t care!” she lashes out. “They can think whatever! It’s not as bad as how I feel! I can’t even look at myself in the mirror! Today is Sunday and I didn’t go to church because I feel dirty!”

“You are not dirty.”

“I let it happen, Honey! I didn’t stop him, I didn’t fight, I didn’t scream! I just laid there and allowed him!”

I walk to her and put an arm around her. “Because you were in shock. It is not your fault, Mary.”

“Why did I let him in here?” she looks at me powerlessly. “Why didn’t I tell him to wait in his car?”

Her state threatens to put me in tears but I maintain my composure.

“I trusted him. I opened up to him these past two weeks about so many things. I trusted him, Honey. Why did I trust him?”

“It is not your fault, Mary.”

She doesn’t seem to believe me, so I hold her until she cries herself to weariness.

“Come and stay with us, Mary. Just until you feel stronger.”

She spaces out. “No.”

“Jide and I feel you need friends by your side. You can’t be alone.”

“I’m going to be with my mom.”

“Mary, we’re here for you.” I hold her shoulders. “Don’t run. Stay and prove your innocence. Stand and fight Reno. Don’t let him win.”

I know I sound like a hypocrite, having refused to struggle for what is rightfully mine from my siblings. Maybe I need to preach to myself as well.

“Jide is okay with me coming to stay with you guys?”

“Yes, Mary. You are most welcome.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She neither seems elated nor soothed. I help her pack her things and together we stand outside her house and wait for a taxi.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

 “We just have to clear up everything, Jide. Reno is willing to narrate his own side of the story and he wants us all to be there.”

“Bobby, it’s past seven. Can’t we do this tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Monday. We’ll all be tired after work abeg.”

I massage my shoulder. I am so bushed after an annoying day at the hospital.

“So can we come over? I already called Mary and she said if the meeting doesn’t hold at yours, she’s not going anywhere.”

“Okay. You guys can come.”

Bobby dials off and I stretch out on my bed. I share with Honey the details of the conversation I just had with him.

“Well I’m curious to hear Reno’s side of the whole thing.”

“He’s going to lie,” I stress. “And they’ll believe him. Things won’t go well, I assure you.”

“Let’s just hear him out. And you, try and stay calm no matter what happens. No kicking anyone, okay?”

“Yes, ma.”

She leaves the room to the kitchen where Mary has been cooking. Earlier Mary had asked permission to prepare dinner, stating it was the only way to get her mind off what happened.

As I take off my clothes, I overhear both women talking. Mary appears to be tutoring Honey on the meal she is preparing. I don’t know much about the psychology of rape victims but I’m glad she is doing this and not locked somewhere, crying.

I open my wardrobe and discover that the clothes I had previously scattered are now neatly arranged. I find a gift box placed over them. When I open it, I see a note.

ralph lauren

Here’s a new polo for all your stress. I found the other one in the laundry basket.

P.S: Girlfriend, not housemaid.

I laugh. Honey and her wahala sef.

I change into fresh clothes and lie down to read from Fifty Shades of Grey. I want to blow my brains out for even attempting to read it but I know if I don’t, Honey will be on my case. It’s not like Christian Grey can teach me anything when it comes to sex. I can do bad all by myself.

Dinner is ready some minutes later and the three of us sit at my rarely-used dining table to eat. Honey and I try to make conversation with Mary but she only answers in monosyllables. It is as if I’m looking at a different person.

“Please, excuse me.” She gets up halfway and retreats to her room. Honey’s shoulders slouch.

“It takes time, sugams. Let her be.”

“She said she doesn’t want to speak to a therapist.”

“She doesn’t have to. Just eat and stop stressing.”

Honey pushes a piece of boiled plantain through her lips.

“Thanks for the t-shirt.”

She smiles.

“And I got the post script too. I promise to clean my shit from now on.”

She laughs and then takes a drink of water.

“Hotstuff, who is Tarela?”

I shoot up my brows. I am about to answer her question when we hear a knock on the door. I check who it is.

Bobby and Kate walk in. I offer them seats but Bobby is interested in what’s left on my dinner plate. He goes for it, much to Kate’s disapproval.

“Kate, can I get you some?” Honey asks.

“No, thanks. I can’t keep anything down these days.”

“Ehya. Sorry. Water, maybe?”

Kate smiles and Honey goes for a glass of water from the dispenser. As Bobby and I launch into small conversation, there comes another knock. I open the door to let the trio of Noka, Celia and Shady in. Noka explains that Ibro is on his way. Moments later, Bright and Bimpe come in, followed by Reno and Peace who barely mutter a greeting to me. I find perverse pleasure seeing Reno walk in pain he is trying so hard to conceal.

Shortly, we all settle down and Mary joins us. She sits beside Honey while I pick the last available chair from the dining area. Bright, who is the oldest amongst us, decides to preside over the get-together. We do not wait for Ibro.

Bright begins by reminding us of the strong bond we share and how nothing should tear us apart. He expresses his disappointment in me for manhandling Reno. I show no remorse for what I have done.

Next, he turns to Mary and asks her to recount what really happened between her and Reno. Mary replies that she doesn’t wish to speak; I offer to speak in her stead.

“Oh, she can’t talk now,” Peace quips.

“It’s okay, darling,” Reno responds. “Let Jide talk.”

I clear my throat and retell Mary’s story, exactly as it was told to me. While I speak, I get muffled reactions, especially from Reno and Peace. When I finish, Peace claps her hands dramatically.


“Calm down, Peace,” Bright says. He looks at Mary. “Anything you wish to add?”


“Oya. Reno, over to you.”

I can see a smile in Reno’s eyes masked by a serious look. He moves in his seat.

“First of all, I want to tell Jide that if it’s not for God and my wife, you’ll be in a mortuary today.”

“You’re a bastard,” I toss back with much calm. “My craze just dey corner dey watch you. If dem born your papa well, come touch me.”

“Guys abeg, not this,” Bright begs. “Please, Reno, just talk your own. Leave Jide.”

“I did not rape Mary,” Reno states plainly. “I did not do to her anything she didn’t like.” He gives Mary a lewd stare and Shady’s eyes catch mine. “We had consensual sex yesterday just as we’ve been having for almost a month now.”

“Oh my God!” Celia gasps silently. Mary shows no reaction to his allegations.

“That is the only crime I have committed here,” Reno goes on. “I have begged God and my wife for forgiveness. I totally regret what I did and all I’ve been doing to hurt Peace who has been an immeasurable blessing in my life.” He turns to Peace. “I’m still on my knees, my love.”

I roll my eyes.

“You know I have forgiven you, baby,” Peace replies, patting his hand. I don’t find sincerity in her manner. Unless my eyes are lying to me, Peace has no affection whatsoever for Reno.

“You guys know me,” Reno continues. “Yes, I have strayed from my matrimonial bed but come on, guys, rape? Mary, for that matter? She’s like a sister to me.”

“And yet you went into her pants,” I tell him. He ignores me.

“She lived with us when things were hard for her. We took her in like family. Why would I hurt her? In fact, it was the fond feelings I developed for her that led us into the affair. I thought what I felt for her was strong and that is why it makes no sense that she will get up and accuse me of raping her. Mary, is it because I told you that we’ll have to end the affair soon because Peace was beginning to suspect? That’s why you called Jide and told him all these lies? Haba, Mary. Why?”

Mary keeps an expressionless face but I know she’s only trying to stay calm.

“Well Uncle Olajideofor?” Peace faces me.

“Well, Aunty Peace you think I don’t know Reno just spewed bullshit right now? You and I know he is lying. Your husband raped your friend! And you’re covering up for him! And I don’t know who is worse; you or him!”

“It is you, Jide! You and Mary!” Peace shouts back in her jarring voice. “Honey, you better beware! That witch beside you is a man snatcher and a home wrecker!”

“Peace, calm down nau! What is this?!” Bimpe chides.

“She is a home wrecker!”

“Your husband is the home wrecker,” Mary retorts silently. “He has slept with everything sleepable and you condone it and keep praying for him. How do you think it will end?”

“My friend, shut up!”

“No, you shut your mouth, Peace!” Mary yells back. “I’ve had enough! I have been silent because of the respect I have for you and because you are my friend but nothing about what Reno did to me was right!”

Her lips hold more words but she struggles to let them out. Her tone loses its power again and tears rush down her eyes. “He raped me. He pushed a pillow on my face and raped me. I could hardly breathe. I couldn’t even fight back. Why, Reno?”

He holds her eyes coldly.

“I let you in as friend, Reno. I opened up to you, telling you things I never told anyone before, and what I get in return is for you to force yourself on me and lie that we were having an affair? Why?”

The whole room is silent. Heavy sighs from unvoiced thoughts dot the tense air. I watch their faces and catch their uncertainty. Mary has to be a really good actress to pull off her present emotional state. One can literally feel her heart shattering with each word.

“Are you through with your act?” Reno asks.

“God will judge you.”

“Are you through, so you can tell them about the secret sex life you and I had eight years ago?”

Mary sucks in her breath.

“Oh, you conveniently missed that part out to Jide.”

“Shameless!” Peace interjects. Noka mutters something else to Celia’s hearing alone and the latter hisses. I look at Mary, questioningly.

“Tell them,” Reno pressures.

“Mary?” Bobby can’t hide his displeasure.

Reno’s eyes sweep over all of us. “Mary and I were friends with benefits for almost a year and nobody knew. I broke it off the moment I started dating Peace. Mary was devastated. She had hoped it would lead to marriage but unfortunately, I didn’t have any feelings for her.”

“You’re a dirty liar.” Mary responds.

“Mary, is he telling the truth?” I question.

“Jide, don’t believe him.”

“Did you guys ever have something?” Celia demands impatiently. I begin to feel uncomfortable.


“I have nothing to say to anyone.”

“Haba Mary!” Celia exclaims. “I just can’t believe you’ll do this.”

“Tread carefully, Cee,” Shady mumbles.

“No, it’s clear who is lying here, Shady. Why won’t she talk if she’s innocent?! We’re asking her a simple question and she’s keeping quiet!”

“Mary, please say something,” I plead. She looks at me with vacant eyes. I don’t understand what is going on. I study my friends’ faces; they are beginning to lean towards Reno.

“Mary, talk nau,” Bimpe urges.

“Please Bims, leave me alone.”

I try not to show my disappointment.

“Well, whether she talks or not, we now know the truth,” Peace comments snidely. “There has always been something between them and because he won’t take it past sex, she turns around and labels him a rapist.”

Peace is undoubtedly the stupidest woman I’ve met. Honey would be slapping me across the face by now if I was Reno.

I look at the bastard. He is smiling to himself because he has swayed the gullible minds of our friends. As for me, despite the twist, I stand by my conviction. I know him as well as I know Mary and I know that the person lying here is him.

“Well, having heard from both sides,” Bright sighs, “I still can’t come to a conclusion.”

“Me I can,” Celia states. “Mary is lying. She has been desperate and lonely for a long time and I mean this with no disrespect, Mary. I’m just telling the truth here. Any man could have found it easy to get into your pants. If Jide wanted, he could have done so without qualms. But Reno was an easier prey. Knowing how lose he was, (again, no disrespect, Reno) you went for him and I’m sure it was smoother this time because of what you guys once had. But what I don’t get is why you would label him a rapist. You’re not a spiteful person, Mary.”

“Exactly,” Noka concurs.

“Peace is your friend and she’s like the nicest person on this planet. You knew she and Reno were hardly having sex. We all knew, and yet you went to sleep with her husband. Were you planning to tear them apart and take her place?”

I butt in, stopping Celia. “You’re going too far, Cee.”

“How am I going too far?”

“Can’t you people see that Reno is the one lying here? He’s making fools out of all of you. I saw Mary’s medical report. She was bruised badly. He went at her like the animal he is. And why are you people even surprised that it would come to this? Reno has been a certified dog!”

Reno laughs with no remorse. The idiot had always had it in him to be immoral. If I know him, he is enjoying the drama and attention, and if given another chance, he would repeat the act.

“Jide, the only reason you are defending Mary is because she has slept with you too!” Peace accuses. I disregard her. Actually, I feel sad for her. She is an abused woman but she has no idea.

“Peace, enough of the accusations,” Bright steps in. “You guys, I have a feeling this will drag on if I don’t put an end to it now. I really don’t know who to believe but I know something went down between you two, Reno and Mary. And I am certain that as long as God exists, the truth will come out one day and the liar will be shamed. That being said, is there a way we can heal this rift? Reno? Mary?”

Reno answers first. “Sure. I can forgive Mary and move past this.”


“No.” Her voice is still. “I was going to forgive you, Reno, to let it all go because of Peace but since you insist on lying and cooking more stories against me, I will take you to the police. Anywhere this case wants to go, let it go. I will not let you get away with what you did to me.”

She stands up and walks out quietly.

“She is guilty, that’s why she’s walking away!” Peace says out loud. “Well, walk away all you want but God will give you a dose of your own medicine very soon!”

No one utters anything further. I know they all have a lot to say but nobody wants to voice out what’s really in their hearts. The one person that has surprised me in this whole thing is Shady. Yesterday, he was on Reno’s side. Today, I think he knows better.

One after the other, my friends leave and the house is quiet once more. I knock on Mary’s door. She steps out.

“You’re going to ask me if Reno was telling the truth about what happened between us eight years ago.”


“We were having sex. And it was I who broke it off. Not him; and just to get back at me, he proposed to Peace whom he had taken out on a date just twice. He never loved her. He married her to spite me.”

“So why didn’t you tell everyone this earlier?”

“There’s a saying that you don’t waste valuable time explaining yourself to others. Your friends don’t really need it and your enemies won’t believe it anyway.”

“Mary, apart from Reno, nobody was your enemy here today…”

“You and Honey are the only friends I have right now.”

She retreats into the room and shuts the door, leaving me dumbfounded.

Dear God, please heal my friend and restore the person she used to be.

I walk back to the sitting room. Honey and I stretch out lazily on a couch on opposite ends. She has one foot over my shoulder and the other in my hand. I’m making an imaginary phone call with it, telling an alter version of her how much I feel for her. I sneak in a tickle now and then and she freaks out with screams and wild laughter. It’s during one of her screams that her phone begins to ring in that distinctive ringtone she has assigned to her family members.

“It’s Jane again.” Her appealing lips lose their laughter and push out in a grimace. “She replied my text in the morning that she’d rather speak with me.”

“Then hear her out.”

“I think they’re trying to bully me into signing off everything to them.”

“Maybe they suspect that you’re having second thoughts.”

“Am I?”

“Just answer the call.”

Honey frowns as she takes the call, adjusting herself to a sitting position. I rest my head on her laps and she plays with my brows as she converses. I listen to her speak in her language as my finger plays with her belly button. I think Urhobo is sexy on her tongue.

Concerning her father’s will, I’m beginning to make her doubt her decision. Earlier I came up with this clever idea that she should first do a DNA just to prove to them that she is her father’s daughter; and then, hand the wealth to them out of a generous heart. She is falling for the plan and I am certain that once the DNA result is out, it will be a question of not wanting to be cheated out of what is rightfully hers.

“Okay, I’ll be there now.” She puts down her phone and looks at me with a disturbed face.

“Jane says she just got into town and I should come and get her.”

I sit up. “Your sister is in town? This town?”


“What for?”

“I don’t know.” Honey stands and begins towards the bedroom.

“Is she alone?”

“Yes. I have to go get her.”

I’m unsettled by this turn of events. I follow Honey in. “Let me drive you to the park.”

“No, don’t stress yourself.”

“I am not stressing myself. I’m making sure you’re safe.”

And that’s just the honest truth. I can’t let Honey out of my sight when it concerns her siblings. Jane might be the nice one but I think she has come for something sinister. And talk about timing. Only witches visit at night.


Image credits: geb.ebay.com, weheartit.com

It’s Another Saturday…#17

Read Previous Episodes Of It’s Another Saturday


I find her waiting outside. She has two boxes with her and a broken expression. I park the car, get down and help her with her things. When we enter the car, I take a good look at her face and see that the demon of a brother has left her cheeks marked. My anger grows wings. I try to find my voice but I can’t.

“They took all of my mom’s stuff and set them on fire,” she says, her eyes lost somewhere. “Every single thing my dad had kept over the years.”

That explains the smoke I’d seen rising from the building as I was approaching.

“They said she slept with someone else to have me. He was never my father.”

“And you believe them?”

Honey says nothing. I want to scold her really bad for letting those animals get to her but I think of her pain and loss. All she needs is a shoulder to cry on. I drive her straight to the hotel and lay her down. She tells me she is too exhausted to wash up. Her feet are dusty, her skin oily with sweat. She has acne on her face and the creaminess on her skin is gone. She doesn’t look like the Honey I know. I want to beat somebody real bad for this.

Before I can say anything, she falls asleep, snoring like a tired, old woman. I take a walk out of the room and dial Bobby. He answers my call but lets me know immediately that I disturbed his sleep.

“I need a lawyer,” I tell him.

“What trouble have you gotten into this time?”

I relate Honey’s ordeal to him.

“Devils!” he spits angrily.

“Azzin! He decorated her face, Bobby.”

“And you leave am?”

“I swear, I dey regret. You don’t want to see how she looks, man. She is traumatized.”

“Ah no o! We just have to screw those fuckers up abeg. I’m taking the case. I’ll be in Warri next tomorrow. I’ll fly in through Asaba.”

“Thanks, man.”

He hangs up after cussing Honey’s siblings one more time. I walk down to reception and ask a very alert receptionist where I can get some analgesic, explaining to her that I’m a medical personnel with a patient up in my room that needs treatment. She asks me to give her a second as she leaves her post and returns with a key.

“Follow me.”

I accompany her to a door that opens to a pharmacy.

“Help yourself,” she says. I pick the drugs I need and ask her bill to it to my room. She explains that the pharmacy is closed for the day, that she had just felt like doing me a favor. I understand that she needs some cash. I pass her some notes and go back upstairs. Emeka calls me and tells me he heard about Honey’s father’s death and wishes to send his condolences.

“She’ll hear.”

“How is she coping? Heard she lost her mom too.”

“Aww, she’s just an orphan like me,” I hear Tola say in the background.

“Well, shit happens,” I reply. Emeka immediately senses there’s something bothering me. He questions me in Igbo and I tell him everything.

“Boys suppose travel that Warri go arrange that nigga. I hope you people are not leaving it all to God?”

I laugh. He’s lucky Nne is not there or he would have received a smack on the back of his head.

“God gave us lawyers,” he states.

“Bobby is on the case.”

“That’s better. Bobby can’t be messed with.”

True. I’m proud to have him as a friend. He’s brutal, thanks to a boss and mentor that was famously known as agbero. Bobby is the posher version of him but not any less ruthless or intelligent. If I know him, he’ll be up early tomorrow, making phone calls to find out whose legal toes he would probably be stepping on once he gets into Warri to take Honey’s case; and he would doubtless, also call in some favors.

My anger has abated now and I’m calm enough to listen to that voice that has been telling me to pray. Nne would always say to me that before I face my enemies for war, I should always ask God for peace. My heart is against making peace with the animals Honey calls her siblings but I pray, nevertheless. It’s that type of prayer where I first ask for forgiveness from all my sins before laying my complaints. I don’t know if God will answer my prayer but I know he is the father to the fatherless. I tell him to help, if not for my sake, then for Honey’s who is now his sole responsibility.

After the prayer session, I lie beside her. She is not snoring anymore. I watch her sleep and I’m thinking if it’s too early to ask her to be my wife. It’s something I plan to do eventually but I feel that as a married woman, she would have better standing in this fight against her family. That way I can get into their drama and treat their fuckups personally without anyone telling me nonsense. But knowing Honey and her strong-minded persona alongside her romanticized way of viewing marriage, she would kick against the idea. All the same, I’ll try.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

This is not how I like my breakfast in bed. Not with my man half-worrying about me and half-concealing his anger over how my siblings treated me. I, on the other hand, have decided that I am done shedding tears. It’s time to move on. Very painful decision to make, especially since I know I rightfully own all that my dad left. However, I will not waste time that I’ll use to build my future in fighting with my seniors. They can take it all. Daddy had already compensated each of them years ago but somehow their greed and hate for me and my late mom consumes them still.

Well, whatever they do, they cannot erase the fact that daddy loved my mom more than any man I ever knew who loved his wife. I guess that is why I have this textbook impression of what love and marriage should be. He doted on her to the point of obsession. I can’t remember how many times I saw them kissing or the few occasions where he’d literally sweep her off her feet in his arms and leave her squealing like a little girl. Of course, my brothers and sisters couldn’t stand their brazen display of love. Harry was particularly disgusted over it and many times I heard him openly voice his irritation.

It was no secret that daddy had not loved their mother while she was alive because, according to my aunt, she was impossible to love.

“She was the most wicked woman on the face of the earth,” my aunt had told me. “She hated and fought with everyone and poisoned your brothers’ and sisters’ minds against your father. Every time he was away at work, she told them he was with other women, something that was a total lie. Everybody knew that even though she was the most impossible woman on the planet he was still faithful to her.”

He had only married her to please his mother. The marriage barely survived the years it did. One ordinary day she died on her way to some errand, knocked over by a police van that threw her off the road and to her grisly death. Ten months later, daddy married my mom in a drama-laden wedding ceremony that would have given Mexican, Spanish and Indian soap operas combined, a run for their money. My mom was never welcomed by his family or his late wife’s. And it didn’t make it easier that she was young, beautiful, educated and opinionated. They tried to make life unbearable for her but she fought them on every side. In the end, they killed her.

Daddy told me she died in her sleep but I knew he was lying. I had spoken to her on the phone the night before she died and she had sounded like one in pain, stopping every now and then to breathe. When I asked what was wrong, she had simply told me she was tired. Then she went ahead to talk about her love for me and how she would have me as a daughter again if she had another life to live. She told me to make sure I fell in love with someone like my dad and to be certain that his family loved me. She didn’t want me to suffer the same fate as she did. At that point, I became apprehensive and asked why she sounded like she wanted to die. She laughed my fear away and told me she wasn’t going anywhere. And in one final warning, added that I should never fight with my siblings. She prayed for me over the phone and called it a night. The next day, daddy called and summoned me home. He didn’t have to tell me; I knew something had gone wrong with her. I cried all the way to Warri. I was taken to the mortuary upon insistence, to see her. She looked nothing like the healthy mother I knew. She had emaciated so much and yet daddy insisted that she had died peacefully. The chapter of her mysterious death was closed after the burial and I got no other explanation from him. It’s been so many years but I still suspect foul play.

“You’re seriously not going to take them to court, sugams?”

I love Jide’s voice in the morning. It’s deeper and sexier. He sits, facing me, watching me with intense eyes. I am having my breakfast like I have not eaten in days. Come to think of it, I really haven’t had a decent meal in a while.

“Initially I wanted you to leave them with the money but after you told me what your dad was worth and how much your mom contributed to the wealth, I don’t think you should just let it go like that.”

“It’s just the Igbo in you talking, Jide.”

“It is not about money.” He seems annoyed by my statement. “It’s about your father’s legacy, about what your parents built, the love they shared. Your siblings want to take it all away.”

“Then let them have it. I don’t care.”

He says nothing more. I can see that he is still annoyed, though. I leave my breakfast and crawl towards him.

“You don’t remember yesterday, do you?” He asked. “How your brother hit you, how you cried, how I came and found you sitting outside your own father’s house because they kicked you out after setting your mom’s stuff on fire?”

“Jideofor, please stop.” I hold his face and kiss the edges of his lips. “Let’s just forget them and leave this town.”

“Where is the woman who smashed my phone and walked out on me? I want her back so we can deal with these assholes together. Where I come from, you do not just throw away your father’s legacy like that. And it is not about the money. It is about your pride. The memories your parents built. The pain of loss that must be healed.”

“But not by fighting with my brothers and sisters!” I shoot back and move away from him, exasperated. “I want my peace, Jide! It’s priceless! I need my peace! Inheritance wars never end! They go on and on and on! And I don’t want that!”

I get off the bed in frustration.

“I want to start and build my business and get married and have kids and forget that I ever had siblings! I can’t live my life looking behind me and wondering who wants me dead just because of money that won’t follow me when I die.”

“I understand where you’re coming from but Honey, you can’t just leave them like that.”

I sigh. I am tired of explaining myself to him.

“They’ll see you as spineless.”

I have had enough. I walk into the bathroom for a shower but my knees weaken beneath me and I burst into tears.

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞


I’m glad to be away from Warri. Finally I can have my peace.

It’s Friday and I wake up to find my head resting on Jide’s chest.


I try to remember the night before but I can’t. I know we were spooning and then we ended up making love in the same position. Did I sleep off during the act?

“Yes, you did,” Jide replies. I bury my head in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? It was actually an intentional act from me. You were dead tired and couldn’t sleep. I told you I would tranquilize you, remember? You had this dirty joke about me injecting you?”

“Yes, I remember. But still I’m sorry.” I keep my head buried on his chest. I get a smack on my bum, and then a squeeze, or more like a crushing cuddle as he pulls me into him.

“How are you, though? No more headaches, fever?”


“Good. So you have energy for me like…right now?”



I’m about to reply but he attacks me with tickles. I scream; he shows no mercy. I have to kick my way out of his clutch to free myself before he stops. He takes my hand again and sits me properly on the bed.

“You know I’m crazy about you, right?” His voice carries a serious timbre.


“And I don’t want anything to be between us.”

“Me too.”

“I actually cheated on you with Ezinne. We kissed and maybe my hands strayed a little…”


“Okay, not maybe.”

I pinch his nose.

“But that was all we did. I’m sorry, baby.”

I smile genuinely. I had forgiven him a long time ago. “I hold nothing against you, babe. I knew you did something with her and when I forgave you, I forgave you for what you told me and what you didn’t tell me, so it’s fine.”


I stroke his cheek. “Sure, hotstuff.”

He takes my hand and kisses it. Together we enter the bathroom for a shower and there’s a lot of naughtiness as we both soap up. Jide tells me he’s glad that I can laugh after all I’ve been through. I reply that he makes me happy.

“So, the car is yours,” he says casually.

“Car? What car? The one you brought to Warri?”



“Yeah. Got it for you.”

The news doesn’t sink in. “But I don’t even know how to drive.”

“I’ll teach you.”


A few seconds go by and then I get the message.

“The car is mine?!”

He gives a quiet laugh. I scream and get soap all up in my mouth and nose.

“For me?!” I turn off the shower. I’m overwhelmed. It’s the most expensive thing a man has ever given me.


I start to cry. Life doesn’t feel so shitty anymore. I have the best boyfriend in the world. I thank him with kisses, long and sensual ones, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood. He’s late for work.

We leave the bathroom and I snuggle in the bed to watch him dress up. His bedroom has changed quite a lot. It looks smaller but that’s just because he used up all the extra space smartly. I love the new décor. It’s cozy, manly and cool. I’m in a sea of pillows and bed covers that hold different tones of blue. I pick out Argyle and Moroccan patterns against a cobalt duvet. There is a small, black ledge beside the bed that holds items Jide likes to indulge in before he sleeps; like a tin of cashew nuts, a hydro flask of freezing water for when he gets thirsty at night, his novel collection of ‘manread’ (as he calls it), and surprisingly, Fifty Shades of Grey. I smile when I see the book. I had begged him to read it so we could try some Christian Grey stunts but he had vowed that he’ll never read such ‘tasteless’ literature, that he had already been scarred enough by the cheesiness of the movie. I spot a bookmark sticking out of the novel, indicating he is currently reading it. Silly boy. After all the shakara.

I tilt my head towards the wall above the bed and see two square paintings hanging side by side. One of them is of a busy street on a dark, rainy day. The other has a black background that holds the painting of a daffodil. It suddenly strikes me that Jide’s feelings for me are not surface. This particular flower holds meaning for two of us and he has let it into his personal space. I begin to feel bad for the hard time I gave him over his ish with Ezinne. I recall daddy’s advice and promise to make it up to him.

Daddy…sigh. It’s heartbreaking that I can’t think about him without exhuming the terrible things my siblings told me. How do I live past the nightmare?

How can I just let it all go like that?

Jide pulls me to my feet for a kiss.

“Can I borrow your car, sisi?”


“Want me to bring you something on my way back?”

I pull at his waistband. “Just your hot self.”

He encloses me in a hug and leaves.  I hear my phone ringing. I fish for it. The screen spells out Jane’s name. I go for the answer button but remember that I have promised to have nothing to do with them. I reject the call.

Yet I am curious as to why she’s calling. As much as she is the kindest to me, I still don’t trust her.

I search for a change of clothes from my suitcase and come up with a pair of matching Ankara shorts and a crop top. I lie in bed with a pen and notebook in hand to touch up on the plan for my travel agency. Saratu has shown interest and Dele’s wife has also bought into the idea enthusiastically. Tomorrow is Saturday and we plan to meet to talk about it before Saratu travels back to London.

My phone buzzes. Jane is calling again. I don’t take the call. Seriously, what does she want?

∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞            ∞

If I go for one more wedding where people leave what they came for and start questioning me about my marital status, I’ll break someone’s neck. Can’t married folks just leave us single people alone? Is marriage the height of life’s achievements? It’s already hard on a guy just being a guy. People should free me abeg.

“We should sha hear wedding bells by the end of the year,” Celia says to me with an annoying wink.

“Can you just stop, madam?” I reply. She laughs. I wish Honey was here for this wedding. Everyone would have let me be. I don’t even know why I came in the first place; I don’t know the couple getting married. I did it for Mary who had specially invited me. This is her first big wedding as a chef. Reno has graciously offered to help her and both of them have whipped up dishes that the guests are going crazy over. I especially like the goat meat peppersoup. I have to admit that it is better than my mom’s.

“I think we should leave,” Bobby says, staring at his wristwatch. We all concur.

“Peace, are you waiting for Reno?” Celia asks.

“No. He’ll stay back with Mary until after the wedding. Let’s just go.”

We shuffle our way through the thick crowd of wedding partiers. After bidding my friends goodbye, I get into my car and head home. I have no idea that they are tailing me. It isn’t until after I park outside my building that I see them driving towards me.

“Is everything okay?” I enquire as they all step out of their cars.

“We came to pay Honey a visit over her father’s death,” Shady says.

I’m touched. I have the most amazing friends in the world.

“Thanks, guys…”

“And we’re also here for a beer or two,” Bobby adds. We laugh.

“Yeah, Mary promises to come with more of her peppersoup,” Celia announces.

“Let’s go in.”

I lead them to my apartment. Honey appears to be home. I hope her hangout with her friends went well. She opens the door and lets us in, surprise impressed on her face.

“Am I on the barstool again today?” she asks and gets a round of laughter.

“No dear,” Peace replies. “We just came to pay our respects to your dad.”

She hugs Honey, sits her down and in classic Peace manner, delivers this long tribute that gets all of us emotional. Honey is in tears when she is done.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Aww, you poor thing,” Noka adds and before I know, the women are all over her. Well, looks like they have finally let her in and the idea of Mary taking her place is old news.

Honey pulls herself together and thanks everyone. Subsequently, she and I raid the fridge for drinks.

“You have very nice friends,” she tells me.

“Yeah. But sometimes they can get anal,” I reply, taking two bottles of wine from her. “Be warned.”

“Where’s Mary?”

“She’s still at the wedding with Reno. They’ll be here soon.”

Honey brushes her butt against my groin as she walks away. I swallow and wish my friends are not under the same roof with us right now.

I join them in the sitting room. Over drinks, we talk about Honey’s siblings, and everyone except Peace, shares my mind over what should be done to them.

“You can’t just let them do this to you, Honey,” Celia strongly puts out.

“If the inheritance is in your name, then they can’t touch it,” Bobby states.

I feel this is not a good day to talk about this issue but I just have to let out why the whole thing gets on my nerves.

“Honey wants to sign it over to them,” I reveal. She frowns at me as everyone faces her.

“Why, luv?” Noka asks.

“I don’t want to fight them.”

“But it’s legally yours,” Bobby points out. “And that is why they have come up with this bullshit that your dad was not biologically your dad. If they can prove that, then they don’t need you to sign over the money to them. They will just take you to court to challenge your dad’s will.”

“That’s the problem. I looked nothing like my dad. And my mom was already pregnant when they got married, so I don’t know…”

“Sugar lips, you allowed them get to you? You actually believe them?”

“I am the only light-skinned person in my house and the only one that doesn’t look like my dad.”

“Your mother was light-skinned,” I stress. “She was half- Eritrean and half- Shua Arab,” I explain to my friends.

“You shouldn’t believe them, Honey,” Bimpe tells her. “They are lying and we will prove that they are. Abi, Bobby?”

“It’s all in your hands, Honey,” Bobby emphasizes. “And they can’t touch what has been passed down to you. So as long as that will is in your name, you still hold the power. If they insist that you are not related to them, we can get the court to order a DNA test, using a sample from one of them.”

“But what if it turns out negative?” Honey asks with fear in her eyes.

“Then we fight still. It might get hairy but we’ll get something out of that inheritance in the end. Nothing will nullify the fact that it was willed to you. The law will back you on that.”

“Trust Bobby,” Bimpe utters. “He handled my case with my ex-husband. The monkey wanted to cheat me out of a business we built together but Bobby helped me get what was rightfully mine. He will help you, Honey.”

Honey seems overwhelmed. I don’t want us to push her into a decision she doesn’t want to make.

“I’ll talk to her later on,” I assure my friends. “We’ll come up with a plan.”

“You’d better,” Celia pipes. “Because the whole thing is just scattering my brain. It’s like being raped, like someone violating me. God knows what I would have done if it was me.”

Shady cleverly shifts the conversation to something else and time ticks by as we banter. Someone mentions something about Mary’s peppersoup and Peace wonders out loud where Reno is. She dials his number but gets a busy tone.

“I’m sure they’re still occupied at the wedding,” she comments, putting her phone away.

“Let me call Mary.” Noka picks her own phone from her bag. As she sets to dial Mary’s number I see that I have an incoming call from Mary herself. I answer it.

“Are you alone?” Her voice is hush.

“No. Anything the matter?”

“Please, can you come to my house right now? Please?” I hear distress in her voice and move away from the curious eyes resting on me.

“What’s wrong, boo?” I walk into the kitchen.

“Just come, please. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Just come.”

She puts an end to the call. I walk back to the sitting room.

“Who was that?” Honey asks.

“Erm… Nothing serious. My mom. She wants to see me straightaway. She won’t say why.”

“I hope everything is fine.”

“Me too. You guys, excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

I leave the house in a hurry and dash downstairs. When I get into the car, Mary is calling again.

“Are you on your way?” This time I pick out that she’s crying.

“Boo, what is wrong? Talk to me nau.”

“Are you on your way?”


I fire up the gas and drive away from my neighborhood. I get to Mary’s apartment some fifteen minutes later. I knock on her door and she opens it. She is wrapped in a bathrobe. I am not wrong about her crying. I’m greeted by red, swollen eyes.

“Jeez! What happened to you?”

She locks her door. I walk in to find her room in disarray.

“Did you fight with somebody?”

She remains silent.

“Mary?” I turn to her fully and when I take a step forward, she moves back.

“What happened here?”

And just like that she shatters into tears. Her fingers clutch at the collar of her bathrobe tightly. I try to touch her but again she steps away from me.

“Mary, please talk to me.”

But she wouldn’t, so I sit and let her cry it out. Finally, she simmers down and let out words that cut my heart like a knife.

“Reno raped me.”

I can’t move. A thick cloud of darkness falls on me, choking me. I can’t speak; she can’t either. When I finally regain use of my voice, I ask her how it happened. She tells me everything – in disjointed words, but I piece it together.

Mary had called Reno about two weeks ago to help her out with the catering of the wedding since he was a master chef at a prestigious hotel and had catered to many weddings before. Although an excellent chef, Mary was new to the food business and needed help on her first huge gig. Reno gladly offered his services for free. Over the days that followed they walked closely together, seeing each other every now and then. Reno alone was aware of some new guy Mary was dating and had promised to keep it a secret from the wives because she wasn’t sure the relationship would go anywhere. Mary opened up to him about many other things in her life and especially her loneliness and fear that she might not find the perfect man. Reno played the role of the supportive friend and they bonded in such a short time. She trusted him, she told me, just as she trusted me.

“I would never have imagined that he’ll do this to me. Never!”


The story becomes grimy when she begged Reno to accompany her home earlier on so she could change into something fresh before they drove down to my place. Upon getting to hers, she decided to go for a quick shower while Reno waited. When she stepped out of the bathroom in her towel to pick what she would change into, Reno shamelessly asked to have sex with her. She explained to me that she thought he was joking at first and brushed the request off but he repeated himself and went on to tell her how he had always nurtured feelings for her and wished it wasn’t Peace he was married to; and that his feelings had grown for her over the past week and he hoped they could develop something on the side.

At that point, Mary lost her top and ordered him out of her apartment, threatening to tell Peace what had just transpired. And to her, she thinks that was the mistake she made, because Reno turned into this beast that locked her door, pushed her to the bed and raped her.

Anger like I’ve never known bustles inside me. I feel tears scald my eyes as I watch my friend sit in one corner of her room like one who is held hostage in it.

“I am so sorry, Mary.”

I don’t know if she can hear me. Her head is bowed over.

“When exactly did this happen?”

“It happened just before I called you. He told me that if I told anyone what he did he would deny and say we had consensual sex and I had been seducing him for a long time.”

“Did he use protection?”

She shakes her head.

Lord help me, I will kill Reno and nobody will stop me.

Mary stretches her hand to me and hands me a small container. She doesn’t tell me what it is but I know it’s semen sample.

“Wear something let’s go to the hospital.”


“Mary, you need to be properly checked and taken care of.”


“Please,” I beg.

“Jide, no. It’s just sex–”

“IT IS NOT JUST SEX!” I am enraged. My tone plunges Mary into another round of weeping. I pull her from the floor and hold her until she calms.

“Mary, please let a doctor check you.”

She steps back. “So that they’ll treat me like a rape victim? And ask me intrusive questions and leave me worse than I already feel?”

“No. They’ll give you anti-retroviral medication alongside contraceptives and some pain killers. If you don’t want to talk to anyone, it’s fine.”

She considers my words. “They won’t ask me to recount what happened?”



I leave the house and sit in the car. My anger has not gone down one bit. Reno has no idea what is coming.

I take Mary to the hospital and leave her in Tola’s care. I drive back to my house as if I’m on steroids. When I get in, I am shocked to see Reno comfortably sitting on my couch, sipping on my wine and making conversation like he had not just committed a monstrous crime.

God knows self control is the last thing on my mind. I speak to no one as I aim straight for him, jerk him off the couch and deliver a punch that breaks his nose on impact. Dazed, his head falls back. I use the opportunity to knock him to the floor and he goes down in a heap.

I am so furious I can’t hear my friends speak. My anger is made worse by the helplessness I felt when I couldn’t give Honey’s brother the beating he deserved.

I see Bright dashing towards me. And in quick but lethal kicks, I give Reno’s balls a lesson in unbearable pain. Before Bright gets hold of me and drags me away, I add one last kick to the side of his face that knocks him out.

“You’ve killed him!” Peace screams and rushes to him. I ignore her and everyone else as I shove Bright off and storm into my bedroom.


Image credits: favim.com, pinterest.com


Agbero – tout

Sharaka – to fuss

This Nasty Cord of Three


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Second announcement… Immortals’ Code.

I’m starting all over again… but wait…

I’m starting it like you have never read before. You get to read the entire story. I once told you that what i wrote was a summary. Now, you’ll read in detail. But first, I’m waiting for all the invited people to come in. That would be fair, wouldn’t it?


And lastly…

You all know by now that i have a thing for love triangles. 🙂  Okay, so I wrote this story about two years ago but I didn’t quite like it because I didn’t really understand what it was all about. I had no goal in mind; i just wrote. it is well composed but it left me feeling bland. Maybe it’s the end I hate and that is why I have excluded the second part.

So, I’m looking for an ending from you guys. Please go wild or restricted. Any thought that comes to your head will help. And twists. Yes, I love twists too.




I am far away from home. Thousands of kilometers to be precise. But I am not alone; I am with Sophie, my best friend’s wife. She is asleep beside me in the car and as I cruise the lonely highway in the thick of night, I watch as her chest rises and falls to the silent rhythm of her breathing. There is music coming from the speakers, the enchanting voice of Sade, her favorite. I hum, slowly nodding my head, trying to exorcise the distressing thoughts tugging at the edges of my mind. Sophie stirs as we hit a large pothole but goes back to sleep again, tired eyelids slowly flapping down. I stretch out my hand and gently cover her slightly exposed cleavage with her pashmina, shielding her from the cold and my hankering eyes. But she wakes to a start and clutches her seatbelt tightly, muttering to herself incoherently while she attempts to cover her whole body with the thin piece of pashmina. I stay silent and face the road ahead, allowing her privacy as she collects herself.

“How much longer?” she asks and I look at her briefly. Her hair is standing up in spikes like a night witch. I’m not sure if it’s her real hair or it’s a Brazilian. You really can’t tell these days.

“We have two more hours and we’ll be in Abuja.”

She nods and turns sideways again, away from me. I look at her through the reflection on her window and see that her eyes are wide open. They are red and sore. They had been for days.

“Chike, thanks for doing this,” she whispers but her face holds no gratitude. It has held nothing but pain and shame for days.

“I’d do anything for you, Soph.”

She smiles a bland smile and hugs herself again. The rest of the journey is silent. One would think Sophie and I are not best friends, that she is a hitchhiker and we’re total strangers. I ache to see that she’s not here anymore; she is lost to the world, lost to me, and I long to see the old her come back to life. Where did the caramel glow in her eyes disappear to? When will I hear the laughter in her voice again? What about the pure obduracy that always pulls her eyebrows together once something threatens to take her freedom? Is my Sophie forever gone, not to return to me? Is this life really as cruel as my mother has always told me, that bad things happen to good people and respite never comes to them? What type of world takes a beautiful woman and turns her into a shadow of herself in just one day?

I rest my elbow on my door and lean my head on it slightly, allowing pain and pure anger break me. My other hand grips the steering tightly as I cry within. This intense inner anguish continues for two full hours and abates only when I see the city gate of Abuja in my view. Sophie also raises herself to sit straight and gives in to a long yawn.

“Finally,” she mutters. “Could you please turn off the AC? I want to let my window down.”

I do as she says and help her wind her window down. She inhales the air outside, almost poking her head out.

“It’s kind of cool,” she says.

“Yeah, it is. So where are we headed?”

“Wuse. There’s a hotel there Steve and I always go to.” I nod and we are silent again. Her eyes are out the window, taking in the beauty of the capital city. Sophie had always wanted to be in Abuja but Steve would never consent to it. The tough hustler in him had kept him in Lagos for the simple reasons of making money and spending it on little girls. Abuja offers the same but the pace had always been too slow for him here.

I drive in through a black gate slid open for me by a gateman in a blue and yellow uniform and a black face cap. My car finds a space in-between a jeep and a fast car and I ease into it. The hotel before us is a huge five-storey, glass structure that reflects the full moon in all its brilliance. I can’t wait to get in, stretch out on a cozy bed and sleep off.

Sophie slips on her dark shades, picks her bag and steps out of the car. I also come out and walk to her but she shifts away from me and treads ahead, making her way into the hotel. I follow her in and book two separate rooms for us.

“Can you please escort me to my room?” she asks, turning her head around to search the entire lobby of the hotel through her dark shades. I lead the way, following a bellhop. The moment we get into Sophies’s room, she locks the door behind us and releases the blinds.

“Is there anything you need?” I ask and she shakes her head. “Good night then. The appointment with the doctor is tomorrow at nine.”

“I know.”

I nod and head for the door.


I turn around.

“Please stay. I can’t – sleep alone.”

“Soph, it’s perfectly safe here.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s not safe anywhere, Chike. Please, please stay.”

I look at her. This is not my Sophie. My Sophie is not afraid of anything. She wakes up every morning at 5am while it is yet dark, to jog for an hour before she prepares for work where she is boss to over fifty men; and she comes home every night at ten, bracing the lonely, dangerous streets of Lagos to meet an empty house with absolutely no one to protect her. But I don’t see that woman anymore. Now all I see is a shrinking, shattered woman that I desperately want to hold if my arms are strong enough to heal her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I tell her.

“Thank you, Chike.”

She hands me two pillows and a duvet. As it had been all day, we say no more words to each other until we both fall asleep.


“Please fill in the following while you wait. The doctor will see you in a minute.” Sophie takes a form from a lady behind a glassy desk who seems to be awed by her own image she can’t seem to stop checking herself at the table’s reflection. She checks her lips, her eyes and tweaks her eyebrows as she speaks to someone on the phone. While Sophie fills the form, I busy myself with everything around me. We are in the reception of a prestigious private clinic, a place that holds some of the best psychiatrists and psychologists in Nigeria. My restlessness forces me into counting the paintings on the walls around us. There are six of them and they each have a brownish hue to match the greenness of the room. In one corner stands a large flowerpot just beside a window, holding beautiful yellow flowers that are bending longingly towards the sunlight.

Sophie rises from her seat and hands the form to the receptionist.

“Er…you can go in now,” the lady says, checking out the stud on her nose this time. “Down the hall, first door on your left.”

We both make our way to a short hallway opposite the window with flowers. Sophie edges towards me as we near the first door on the left; her pace also slows considerably and she holds my hand tightly.

“Soph, you know you’re supposed to see the psychologist alone…”

“No!” she shakes her head. “I can’t!”


“Please, come with me. I can’t do this myself.”

I sigh and rap on the door softly. A female voice within answers and we walk in. There is a woman in her late forties or early fifties, short and beautiful and very comely. She is wearing a white blouse and blue skirt and she has her hair in short curls. When she smiles, I see a prominent gap-tooth and really dark gums, just like Sophie’s.

“Good morning,” she greets.

“Good morning,” I reply.

She looks at Sophie. “Mrs. Steven?”

Sophie nods and shows herself from behind me.

“And you’re Mr. Steven?”


“Yes, he is,” Sophie replies and holds me tight.

“Okay. Nice to meet you sir. Mrs. Steven, you’re here for your nine o’clock, right?”

Sophie nods.

“Please, do make yourself comfortable and Mr. Steven, would it be okay if you kindly waited outside?”

“No.” Sophie shakes her head strongly. “He stays. My husband stays.”

“Alright. It’s okay. Mr. Steven please do have a seat beside your wife.”

“Thank you.” I smile gratefully and Sophie and I sit on a long couch adjacent the doctor’s. I lean forward and again take in my surroundings as the doctor rambles some stuff to Sophie. Like in the movies, the room is welcoming and comforting, like someone’s bedroom turned into an office. Having had a rough night, I long to lie on the couch and stare up at the ceiling at the comforting paintings of blue flowers I find there. There is a windowseat and I also hunger to sit there, to stare out and inhale clean and welcoming air, something I hardly find in Lagos.

“I was raped…” I hear Sophie say and I come back into the room. I look at her; her face is pulled together tightly and her lips are shaking uncontrollably. Her hands roughly rub her thighs from hips to knees agitatedly and I reach out to touch her but she hits my hand. The doctor motions to me to let her be and I obey.

“I was alone at home and getting dressed to church. My husband was away on a business trip and so I was alone. Someone rang the doorbell and I went downstairs to see who it was, thinking it was a neighbor or my mom. I opened the door and they walked in, the bastards. Four of them, all dressed casually like they were visiting close friends or relatives, none of them was armed. They shut the door behind them, locked us in and told me they had come to have their way with me…” Sophie fights her tears but she can’t hold them in. I long so bad to hold her but the doctor’s eyes warn me off.

“I told them I would give them money, any amount they wanted but they said they didn’t want my money. They said they wanted me. Then they asked me to strip… I begged and begged but…” she shakes her head. “They forced me to perform oral sex on them and took turns with me, one after the other, over and over again until I begged for death. It was a sick and irritating, even though they were trying to humanize it. They were not rough; they were gentle, almost caring, taking their time. None of them hit me or spoke to me harshly. One of them continuously asked me if it hurt, if he should take it slow, if he was doing it the way my husband used to…” Sophie cries, heaving uncontrollably as she turns away from me completely. Boiling within, I stand and walk to the windowseat. This is the first time I am hearing the story in detail. When it happened five days ago, she had called and only told me she was raped by four men; she didn’t give further information.

“At some point, they stopped and had me make them a meal.” She sniffs and wipes her eyes, only for the tears to begin again.

“After the meal, they resumed their torture until I passed out. When I woke, they were gone and there was not a single trace of their presence. I thought about calling the police but I had no evidence because they used protection.” Sophie sighs and wipes her face with pages of Kleenex from a box beside her. When she is done, she leaves a mess in a waste bin before her.

“I came here to get that out of my system. I am spent and feel a lot better and I would like to leave now.”

“But Mrs. Steven, your session is not over yet,” says the doctor.

“Yes,” Sophie nods and stands, “I know but I’m done. I don’t want to talk about it again. Coming here was a silly idea…”

“Soph?” I call gently.

“I’m okay. I’m fine. I just want to go back home. Thank you, doctor.”

She walks to the door and turns the handle.

“Mrs. Steven, you have paid for eight full sessions. You can come back anytime, just give me a heads up first.”

Sophie nods and I rise to my feet.

“And Mrs. Steven, I am very sorry for what happened to you and I want you to know that it’s not your fault.”

Sophie’s face is glued to the door before her. “It is my fault,” she whispers and looks at me, deep into my heart. “I married the wrong man.”

She opens the door and walks out. The doctor gets up and walks to me. “Please, convince her to return. She is going through immense pain and guilt and shame, and I have seen cases far less than hers end in manic depression, some bad mental illness, murderous revenge and even suicide. Please, bring her back. I can help her.”

I thank the doctor and walk out. I drive Sophie back to the hotel and this time, she pushes me out of her room, pleading to be alone. It is only a few minutes after ten in the morning but I need a stiff drink to put myself together. I leave the room and take the elevator down to the sports bar on the first floor. I am the only customer and I choose a dark and quiet corner to be alone with my thoughts. I order some gin, hot and stiff and while I wait for it to arrive, I think of a million ways to kill my friend, Steve. I don’t understand how he can have a wife as beautiful as Sophie and leave her all alone night after night just to waste his life with nameless women. I blame myself for not snatching her off his hands when I had the chance.



it’s up to you guys…

Does something happen between Sophie and the main character? Is Steve a good or bad guy? Is Sophie telling the truth? how does it all end?

Please Help!!!



There are many versions to this story but there is only one reason I mentioned Amaka’s name at the altar on my wedding day.

When you love a woman, nothing on earth can stop you from thinking about her.

Before I go on, let it be known that Onagite is a mentally disturbed woman. I understand that it’s really not a psychological disease but years of shameful leaving, a desperate bid to get married and the awful realization that she is getting old that has turned her insane.

She is what I believe they call a sociopath.

I want to begin with the big question: did I know that Onagite had a terrible past?

I did.

No woman today is a saint but when three of your friends have slept with her, you know that the situation is really critical. I wasn’t getting married to Onagite because I loved her. To be honest, I had no feelings for her. My mother was the one that was infatuated with her and felt she was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Onagite, after a life of sharing her goodies with many guys in Abuja, decided to settle down and get married. She repackaged herself well and everyone was fooled but I knew her intentions from the beginning. She tells a steamy story of how I went after her but that was not the case. From the beginning, she was out to separate me from Amaka but by God’s grace, I successfully eluded her traps. However when Amaka and I broke up, she made a beeline for me. I didn’t take Onagite seriously then; I was just glad she distracted me from my broken heart. However, thoughtlessly I introduced her to my mother and she became the perfect daughter to her, since all my sisters were in their matrimonial homes. Onagite literally lived with the old woman and did everything for her. Now, excuse me for saying this but my mother is the most manipulative woman on earth. When I saw the danger Onagite posed to my freedom, I made it clear that I wasn’t in the mood to get married to her and my mother fell ill, and it got so critical that I had to fly her out for treatment. While on her sick bed, she successfully twisted my sisters’ minds against me, turning my entire family into a heavy Onagite fan club. Every time I tried to end the relationship, I wound up being labeled a heartless and irresponsible creature. It got so bad that even my brothers-in-law joined in the whole drama.

Onagite says we just happened to have sex on her birthday, that one thing led to another but that was not how it happened at all. To me, it felt like consensual sex but when I woke up the next morning and had no full recollection of what happened the night before, I knew she had drugged me.

I’m a thirty-five year old grown male and I think I have had sex enough times to know when the line crosses from consensual to rape. I woke up the morning after Onagite’s birthday and to my confusion, Onagite had bruises on her lips and shoulders and was cowering away from me like I was a monster. She related, in an award-winning performance, how I had ripped off her clothes and raped her. I was in total shock, like I couldn’t believe myself. As I sat down speechless, too weak to move, she threatened to report me to my family, the church and even the police.

I have heard of stories like this. In fact, one of my friends had been a victim quite recently and when he related his ordeal to me, I laughed at him. Now, I was the one in his shoes and I still couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened. Naturally, I started to second-guess myself. I went through the previous night over and over and began to remember bits of what happened and to my horror I recalled her luring me into a rape fantasy. As a doctor friend later related to me, Onagite was able to successfully pull that off only because she put in the right dosage of drug that kept me intoxicated but at the same time, sane enough to make me believe I was in control.

I had no option but to apologize for what I had not done and propose to her immediately. You should have seen her screaming like a little girl who had just been given the keys to a mega Barbie store. Problem was I was the Barbie and was about to have her dress me up for the roll of marriage. I never was Ken.

Two days later, I got her a ring and before I even drove out of her house my phone beeped. She had tagged me in a photo of herself and her ‘dazzling eighteen carat engagement ring’ on Facebook. It was actually only nine carats.

From that moment on, everything started happening very fast—the marriage counseling, the introduction, traditional marriage and the wedding planning. During that time, Onagite played the role of the good wife. She adored me in front of family and friends, stroking my ego and making me look like the perfect man just so that they believed she was responsible for my excellence. I on the other hand went through the motions like a puppet and never told a soul what I was going through. As the wedding date drew closer, I tried offering her money to dissuade her from getting married but I was met with more threats. I literally was dealing with a serial man-eater, so ultimately, I resigned to my fate.

A lot happened during that time but when the moment of truth presented itself at the altar, I just couldn’t see myself continuing with the charade. Calling Amaka’s name was not deliberate. It just came out and I think I subconsciously channelled myself to call to her for help. But more than that, I called Amaka because, like I told you, when you truly love someone you just can’t stop thinking about them.

So I’m here, sitting on my loveseat, with my bottle of beer, about to watch a replay of a match I missed yesterday but I can’t stop thinking about how much of a coward I have been. Maybe I should have taken my chances and broken off with Onagite a long time ago. The worst would have been her word against mine but seriously, who likes to be labeled a rapist?

“Jaymo!” I hear Shola call my name and I turn to him. He has this interesting look in his eyes.

Some people just love to gossip. They know where to get the latest gist and are willing to whisper it to any itching ear around them. This is the case of the guy that lives in my house and has been scrubbing off of me for over two years. You know those types of guys that will come in with nothing but the clothes on their back and ask to stay for just a week until they find their own place? Shola is one of them. One week turns to two, two to four, then six months and now, I can’t get rid of him without causing some serious pain. The thing that amazes me though, is that he has a job, a car and yet he hasn’t found a place of his own for almost three years.

“Guy, I dey try watch match, na,” I complain when I see him pull a side stool and sit right in front of me.

“Chairman, just hear wetin I wan yarn you first.”

It takes him a while to come round to the main topic. He first asks me if I know this Ayo that dated this Kate, that eventually got married to this Calabar person that now lives in Warri and owns this big eatery and he goes on and on until he somehow finds his way back to Lagos to some Derrick guy I vaguely recall Onagite mentioning a while ago.

At this point Shola pauses, maybe for effect, but he continues, with words rolling out of his lips like red hot spears aimed at burning my heart but he has no idea what he’s spilling is actually good news. When he is done, I look at him blankly, thank him and go back to my game. He isn’t so happy with my reaction; he picks his car key and leaves the house to see some friends.

The moment he leaves, my phone begins to blink with that annoying red light. I pick it and discover I have five unread pings and two text messages. When I go through them, they’re all from Amaka’s friends, telling me something is wrong with her and I need to come to their place immediately. I scroll through my phone contacts and dial Fiyin, one of Amaka’s closest friends but it rings off the hook. I dash into my room and grab a tee from my bed but as I step back into the living room, Onagite is there waiting for me. This is the first time I’m seeing her since our wedding was cancelled and all I am thinking is how blank she suddenly looks to me.

She stands there, by the door, expecting me to rush and hug her but I look around for my car key and act like she’s not there.

“James?” she calls me in a surprised voice.

“What’s up?” I bury my fingers into a hole by one side of the loveseat and fish out my car key.

“Why are you acting weird? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

I walk to her. “I have an emergency…”

“Is Momsie alright?” she asks with a mask of concern.

“Yeah…yes, Momsie is alright.”

“So, what’s going on baby?” she tries to touch my face but I take her hand and lead her outside.

“You have your key to the door? Can’t seem to find mine.”

“Yeah,” she puts her hand into her handbag and produces the key to the front door. I take it from her, lock the door and walk her to her 7-series. I check it out and see that it is still factory fresh with no scratches.

“I want to take you out but we’re using your car. I haven’t driven it yet.”

“Okay,” she gives a full smile and I open the passenger door for her. I take the driver’s seat.

“James, I missed you,” she leans towards me and tries to touch me but I take her hand and kiss it. The moment we leave the house and the gate closes after us, I stop the car and give her a long, hard look. She becomes very uncomfortable.

“Onagite, I am very curious to know why you’re sleeping with Derrick but it‘ll be a waste of my time. Some things are not worth looking into, especially the lifestyle of a dirty, shameless slut…”

“James!” she gasps.

“You know what? After every rotten thing you’ve done in your life, one would think you’d use your head but somehow, you just don’t have it in you to think straight, do you? It’s beyond me how dull you truly are. As in, I just can’t wrap my head around your profound stupidity.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t sleep with Derrick.”

I take a deep breath. “At the risk of sounding like your bitch, I admit that I was the biggest fool around here. You did your job well, putting your ducks in order and at the right time. You played me, Onagite. Oh, you played me but finally, I believe it’s fitting to say I’ve been set free. As in, what do you have over me now? Nothing!” I laugh.

“I’m pregnant,” she says in tears and in a gentle voice that is supposed to stir something in me.

“Really?” I play along and she nods, her ruby cheeks glistening with tears.

“Well, that’s just another unfortunate child who would have to learn that this stupid life is sexually transmitted.”

She puts her hand to her mouth. “James…”

“Get out.”


I step out of the car, walk to her side and open her door.

“Get out of the car.”

“James?” she looks at me with wild, frightened eyes. “This is not you. Why are you doing this? I am carrying your baby! I didn’t sleep with Derrick!”

“Get out, Onagite!”


My phone starts to ring. Fiyin is returning my call.

“I told you I have an emergency, woman. Get out!”

“It’s Amaka, isn’t it? She’s the one calling you! You can’t do this to me! You can’t get me pregnant and dump me! What kind of wicked man are you? First you jilted me at the altar and now…”

I grab her hand and pull her out of the car. She makes a move to fall to the ground but I lift her by her shoulders and look straight into her conniving face. “If I ever see you around here or my mother’s place, both of us will regret what I will do to you. Do you understand me?”

I let her go, get back into the 7-series and drive away. As I hit the streets, I dial Fiyin again, putting her on speakerphone. She takes my call immediately.

“Talk to me, Fi.”

“Are you almost here?”

“I just got out of the house. What’s wrong with Amaka?”

“I dunno, o. She locked herself in my bathroom since yesterday morning and has refused to come out.”


“I dunno. She lost her job on Friday and when her popsie found out, he kicked her out of the house. Then as if that one is not enough, the money Loretta gave her to pay into somebody’s account, someone stole it from her in a bus.”

“A bus? What happened to her car?”

“Popsie took it too.”

“What money did Loretta give her?”

“I don’t know but iz plenty o! Iz 500k! Now, she’s looking for Amaka and the silly Amaka is hiding in my bathroom and I have been using our neighbor’s toilet since yesterday. Me and my friends have done everything to make her come out but she refused. Please come quick, abeg before I break the door and Amaka pays. I’ve been wanting to go to toilet since but I’ve been holding it and my neighbors have gone out.”

I smile. “On my way… and Fi?”


“Don’t tell her I’m coming.”


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