Memoirs of A Repentant Hooker ~ Episode 10

The taxi I boarded home was exactly the kind I needed. The driver had dropped off all other passengers and I was the only one left at the back seat of the car. My knees were too weak to walk that I had no option but to opt for a taxi. I would have ‘flied’ a motorbike but I wasn’t ready for the jagging movements due to potholes. . . You know, there is really a difference between the potholes effect of a car and that of a motorbike. Amaka would always say “it’s a lie. It depends on the rider and the driver.” I quite agree with her; at times though.

Amaka couldn’t tell me what really went wrong before a Police Officer bumped in to tell me my time with her was over. I never even spent 15 minutes. Police Station is a ridiculous place to go. The thought of her spending another night in that cell turns my stomach and she doesn’t even care. Even the response I got from the Police Officer about Amaka’s bail wasn’t even encouraging. Hmmmm. It is well.

The driver increased the volume of the music player and somehow somewhere, my mind found solace and strength in the Jim Reeves “This World is not my Home” blasting from the stereo. It felt so warm and enchanting that all I wanted to do was spend the whole night in that car with the song on a repeat but unfortunately, I’m soon to drop off from the car.

The walk down my house felt so short and sweet, all thanks to the breeze and the silence of the street and the chattering of the moi-moi, eko and akara sellers. I wasn’t sure whether to buy some as I really can’t figure out what to have for dinner. May it was me, my appetite or both at work. What if I buy and it go to waste? “I’ll pass” I said.

Unfortunately for me, the compound was silent but a shinning image of someone a little plump, sitting on a wooden stool and reflecting so much oil even in darkness was staring at me from afar. That definitely could be no one other than Mama Seun. She’s white in the morning and like a shinning light in the evening. All thanks to ‘ori’ and ‘adi-agbon’. She’s a sorry case. How would someone leave her home in the morning without moisturizing her body only to return in the evening to a moisturizing effect of shea butter and coconut oil without even taking a shower. I wonder how her husband has managed to stay with her for that long; 15 years or something. May it’s because she’s the breadwinner and the husband is the breadeater. Their marriage is like one’s demise is the end of the other. If Mama Seun dies today, Papa Seun is doomed and if Papa Seun suddenly woke up one day to a non-coordinating brain waves of his telling him Mama Seun isn’t really good for him again or he wants to try something else; pauper like him, Mama Seun go just collapse because in her case, there are two things involved in Basketmouth’s voice. It’s either she bully him to stay because she’s never gonna find a man who is gonna ‘just the way you are’ like Bruno Mars or who’s gonna give her great sex considering her horrific shape. Her shape is the one they called Apple shape or something but a terrible apple shape.

Sitting in darkness at odd hours when almost everybody are in their room chasing away mosquitoes, watching a movie, patiently waiting for sleep, gisting, gossiping, ‘straffing’ or strategizing for the next day has become a sort of daily rituals for her. Her boysquarters couldn’t contain her anymore. God knows say I no get time for her wahala this night not even a pinch of ‘gbeborun.’

“Hey, welcome o! You look so tired, se ko si? (hope no problem”

“I’m fine Mama Seun. Just a little bit worn out from today’s stress.”

“Eh ya. Pele o. Try bath before you sleep o and take paracetamol if you have headache.”

You go fear adviser. She can’t even remember the last day she had a morning bath not to talk of a night bath. If only people can take the advise they give
others. . . “I will Mama Seun. Thanks.”

“O o ti e bere awon aburo e? (you no even ask of your siblings)”

“No vex. How dem dey o?” *like say na my mama born dem, she sha no wan sound like say na aproko she wan do.*

“Ehn ehn. Dem dey fine. Thank you.”

“Alright na.”

I made for my door; that’s the only thing I wanna do now. Open it and crash wherever I found fit.

“Abeg, e don tey o wey I see Amaka for house. Hope say she dey alright? Abi she travel ni or she dey sick?”

Bad belle human being. No be only sick, na die she die. Some people no get good thoughts for mind. Even some wey get, na 1 good thought, 2 terrible thoughts. I think Mama Seun fits that category.

“She dey alright o.”

“Okay. As I no see her na why I talk say make I just ask as per Jesus talk say, love your neighbours as yourself na. . . But you never tell me where she dey.”

“Mama Seun, you know say I don tire. All that matters is that Amaka is fine. That info sef suppose do you now. I’d see you in that morning. Good night.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t even bother looking at her face while I talked. It is said that ‘he who looks at the bride’s face will know she’s crying.’ I knew what I said would have hurt her aproko body small but who cares. I have bigger problems right now than considering who is hurting over ‘gbeborun.’

I knew I was never gonna enjoy the night’s sleep. It was not because I would have to sleep all alone in the house but because I would have to sleep in the house with Amaka passing the night elsewhere in an uncomfortable environment and situation. I threw my bag to the nearest place it could find, I didn’t even bother removing my makeup, offing my clothes not to talk of taking a shower. I made for the couch, laid face down waiting for sleep to come shut my eyes but I was determined to find out what really happened the next day even if I had to make an appearance at the last place I couldn’t imagine myself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hi. Good morning.”

“Good morning. How can I help you ma’am?”

“Thanks. I am looking for someone who was admitted at this hospital. His name is Adewale Olusola.”

“Who are you to him? And is he expecting you?”

“I am. . .”

I wanted to say I am a friend which would definitely mean he is a friend but hell no he is not a friend. I am not angry. I would just love it to be that way but I definitely need to say something to get a bypass with the Nurse.

“Madam!”

“Oh sorry. I am an old friend of his *that sounds better at least. He was an old friend.*”

“Okay. You go straight then make a first turning by the right, the third room is where you’d find him.”

“Thank you.”

I had set out of the house early to find Sola even if it was the last thing I wanted to do but I actually have to know what’s going on. I had took a quick shower, dress up in a short sleeveless top, a jean, a flat sandal and a black face cap as a shield against the sun as it turns out the sun sets out so early today. The fact that I haven’t received any call or a single text from Jide keeps bothering me even though I try to hide it. I like him but I have never been in a relationship before and a guy-drama is the last thing I have patience for.
“He’ll call. . . He needs some time.” I keep telling myself.

I didn’t want to call Sola to find out where he was or to tell him I wanted to see him or something and Jide wasn’t on talking terms with him ever since that incident. It was like their friendship ended that day at the restaurant. I decided to call one of his friends who had told me where I could find him. . . Staring at him on the bed with heavy bandage to his head and the surreal that radiates all over him while asleep makes me wanna hit him with that bournvita can next to his bed but I thought I wasn’t angry. Maybe not at him, maybe at myself for allowing him do that to me. . . I decided to leave as he was asleep hoping he would be awake by the time I check back in the evening.

“Hi” he said holding my hand firmly like a resuscitated corpse who grabs the first thing he sees.

“So you pretend to be asleep too? Guess you pretend over almost everything in your life. Like you pretended to yourself that you did nothing wrong to me. Like you lie to yourself ‘Sola forget about it, life goes on. . . this babe doesn’t matter. She can’t do ‘nada’. It’s a past you would never need to face again. . .” You want me to go on?”

“Why are you here and how do you know where I am?”

“Seriously? You disgust me. I hate men like you who have ego over nothing. You wrong and you still wanna wear that 50 shoulder pads of yours? You still wanna pretend like you are the boss, you’ve got it all working, you’ve got it all together. . . You know, I don’t care about what you did, I am just sorry if you have to wait till you are in your 50s and you have to be responsible to your kids and be protective of your girl-child till you grow up and be responsible for once in your life. . . You know what, it doesn’t even matter. Here, is the last place I wanna be so I would just go straight to the point. What do you know about Amaka’s arrest?”

“You know you are so unnecessarily assuming. . .

“It’s okay Sola, seriously, I have so much I want to say to you but right now, it doesn’t matter. I’d appreciate if you would just answer my questions.” I said with so much disgust.

“Fine. . . You see this bandage on my head, Amaka did this to me. I have been having severe and terrible headaches for like four days now non-stop.”

I sank my butts on the next available bed to me. Not that I was surprised and not like Amaka is violent but why she did I don’t understand.

“Amaka did this to you?”

“Yes, she did.”

“And you got her arrested?”

“Yes. . . “

“Are you kidding me? You got Amaka arrested? I am so wowed! That’s so interesting you know. You couldn’t have done anything other that. If I were in your shoes, I would have done the same thing you know.”

“Exactly. I like the fact that you are being real.”

“You are a fool Sola. Oh! For whatever reason Amaka broke a bottle on your head I would find out but I am not sorry for you and for crying out loud, this happened in my house, my apartment. You had the gut to show your face in my house and you blamed Amaka for breaking a bottle on your head?”

I picked my bag to leave. I walked to the door and stopped to face him.

“I’m gonna make sure she’s available for bail. She’s not gonna spend another night in that horrible place and you better make sure it’s easy. That same button you pressed to get her arrested, you better start pressing them now to get her released. . . I pray you don’t get better.”

I jammed the door at him only to bump into Jide by the door.

“And what are you doing here?”

“Jide, please, let me be. Let’s talk some other time.” Very crazy of me to say right? I know. I was patiently expecting to see him, hear from him and now I am trying to spoil it.

“You think I wanna talk to you or you think I wanna sit down and discuss that night with you? You must be kidding me. It’s not about then, it’s about now.”

“I don’t understand.” I replied actually feeling lost.

“Okay. I will make you understand. I presume this is where Sola is admitted right?”

“Yes. So?”

“I thought you guys were not talking; like you are not talking to him, you don’t wanna see him. . .”

“And I thought you guys were no longer friends. . .”

“It doesn’t matter if he is no longer my friend or if he is. Is not like I hate him to the point of death. He didn’t offend him, he offended you and I was just disappointed he did that and that couldn’t man up to it.”

“Okay. You should go see him then. I have somewhere important to be.”

He drew me back with his hands firmly gripping my hand.

“Jide, you are hurting me. Stop! For crying out loud we are in the hospital.”

“You will answer my questions. . .

“Jide, coming to see Sola is not what you think it is. It’s something much more important than that.”

“Really? Is that all you have to say?”

“Yea, for now!”

“Okay then. First, my dad has hooked you up before; now, you came to Sola! I don’t even know what to believe anymore. Even if I wanna sit down to discuss that dinner with you; with this, I don’t think I want to anymore. . . You and Sola are both dead to me.”

He left angrily and I was obviously running after him.

“Jide, it’s not what you think. Why can’t you just be patient for once!”

He entered his car, wind up and zoomed off!

“Jide!” I kept on screaming his name till I couldn’t see him again.

Memoirs of A Repentant Hooker ~ Episode 9

Okay, Happy New Week people. . . I'm so sorry for not posting last week. . . Apart from the fact that NEPA messed themselves up, I had a severe eye inflammation but I'm better and back now. . . Here's Episode 9. Enjoy!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Amaka Coker was one out of the few great things that happened to my life. I remembered the first time we met; it was like we had known each other for ages. She has and always had an alluring and magnetic personality; she’s more real than life, ‘couthly’-blunt and highly hyper-active. She has this laughter and smile that makes you wanna believe life is problem-free and everything is perfect with her. Her voice and words speaks Bob Marley’s “Every little thing is gonna be alright. . . Don’t worry be happy, even if your landlord says your rent is late.”

We met in one of the awkward places most men don’t wanna meet their future wife; where most ladies beef each other just for the night. Where ladies who covet each other’s body shape during the day, bad-mouths the so-called perfect body to sell market. There you see the realest of all boobs and the fakes; those 3 inches padded boobs where customers discover say na bobo juice after e don pay finish.

Ours is a meeting point where different dialects of pidgin is being spoken; where figure one during the day becomes figure 8 at night; where people who no sabi each other for day become enemies with abusive words hurling at each other.

Amaka was the hot type; with the Joselyn Dumas kind of shape and a Mercy Johnson type of height. She was of high demand and has a high class taste of customers. She has a zero tolerance for low self esteem and even though the girls talk bad about her when she’s not around, they dare not the moment she arrives. My babe get respect for body. Most times, customers drive off without hooking up with anyone if she is not available.

Amaka never does multiple per night. She always says, “my body no be deliverance centre where I attend to many situations per day” lol. The girl is a piece of work; a human comic relief when everything turns boring and sour.

Sitting on the couch, staring at the clock; watching the short hand of the clock on 7 and the long hand on 12; it was as if darkness was over the face of my earth and the only person to proclaim ‘tada! Let there be light’ has suddenly gone missing.
The house felt so empty without her and I can’t help but feel something terrible has happened to her. She always told me, “no matter what happened to me, I’m a big girl, and I can always handle the situation”.

*************

“Hey, you are not going home tonight?”

“And you are?” I fired back

“Hey, chill! You don’t have to be hard with everyone just because life is hard on you. Life is hard on everyone girlie, you just gat to handle it pretty well and stop throwing tantrums at everyone that comes your way. . . Anyway, I was just showing some care, that’s all.”

She sounded so bitchy as she sounded so cool in one stretch of sentence.

“I’m sorry I replied you that way.”

“Well, forget it! I don’t take things too seriously. . .

“Well, I am. . .”

“Never mind, I know who you are. I mean beyond the walls of the streets. I know you don’t remember my face but I do. You are the girl with the incredible brain. . . Remember that response you gave Dr. Freeze at LEM 201 class? You made a lot of sense. Anyways, I’m your coursemate.” She said in a long-stretch of utterance without a pause.

“Ow! Okay. So sorry I couldn’t recognize you, I’m not too good with faces.”

“No problem.”

I just lied though. I am very much good with faces. Maybe faces that has hurt me are quite unforgettable to me but I really never noticed her like I really never noticed any of my course mates because I love my solitariness.

“So, why are you here?” we both ask each other at the same time.

“You first!” I responded.

“Why are you working here? You don’t care if anybody who knows you like our course mates find you here? Even though you don’t know them, they know you!”

“Do you care?” I asked her.

“Who gives a damn?. . . But why do you work here?”

“’Cos I need the money.”

“Really?”

I almost gave her a disdain look.

“What do you mean really?”

“Never mind. So, won’t you go home tonight? After all, the show is over”

“Well, I have nowhere to stay for tonight and the little money I have with me is not even enough for my plans.”

That was so unlike me; I just blurted out to a total stranger without holding back.

“Anyways, this is N50,000; you can add it to whatever you have in your purse if it’s enough to get you a place to sleep for the night and maybe solve your problems.”
I collected the money that it felt like a dream holding it between my hands. I spent almost 15mins caressing the money, as I looked up to thank her or ask her why she gave it to me, she was almost far gone.

“Why did you give me the money?” I screamed ontop of my voice hoping she would hear or reply me and sure she did.

“Because I don’t do this for the money. You need it; I don’t.”

“Thanks. . . But who are you? Your name? You didn’t tell me.”

“Amaka Jones” she screamed back.

*************

Staring at the blood-stricken rug, reminiscing my first moment and moments with Amaka, I can’t help but pray earnestly in my mind that she’s hale and hearty. I love the fun she gives me to hell with the stress that comes with it.

Even though a part of me wants to think it’s all a prank, life doesn’t pull pranks so doesn’t Amaka and even if she’s up to something, it’s never gonna be something threatening as this but woe-betide her if this is all for nothing cos I can swear I have already lost a pound in the process of worrying about her but seriously, I need to find her first.

The compound was still very much silent, nobody around still; don’t know who to call or whose opinion to seek. Jide would have been my first go-to counseling centre if things hadn’t gone sour and dramatic earlier on and I know he would have taken Amaka’s issue so seriously than I would have but now, I don’t even have a 1 percent gut to call or text him even though I know I’m still gonna face him later to explain myself whether he’s interested or not.

The almighty sexy voice of “Korede Bello in Godwin” broke the solitary silence in the room. I picked my phone to check who the hell was calling me at this unpleasant hour except if it’s Jide but unfortunately it was Sola.

“What does he want again?” I screamed as if Amaka was in front of me telling me Sola is at the door to see me.

I have already made up my mind that I wasn’t gonna pick even if he calls ten times. Whatever business I have with him ended the day Amaka pulled that restaurant stunt. He continued calling that even my ringtone was becoming annoying.

I stood up, got off my heels, went to bathroom, took a cloth-mop soaked in a soapy water, headed back to the living room and I began to clean up the blood. My brain wasn’t coordinating, even though the soapy water was cleaning it, it still wasn’t a wise idea to clean up the rug with water. My phone vibrated and screamed “Message”, I knew it was Sola and I was definitely not wrong about that.

I presumed you won’t pick my call, so I decided to send you a text. Although, I regret almost everyday what I did to you, I was out of line, I can only hope you’d forgive and don’t break up our long term ties, stashing knowing me and everything because of my mistake. I am really sorry but I can’t be dwelling on this matter everyday. . . That I wanted to tell you and I also wanted to tell you that Amaka was arrested earlier today and she is at the police station opposite the school gate. You should go see her.

I hurriedly stood up, the first part of the message never mattered like the last part. How come Sola knew Amaka was arrested? And for what reason was she arrested? What’s going on here?

I really wanted to call Sola back and asked him some necessary questions but I was so filled with anger and pride; “I will never be caught calling Sola, texting him or talking to him at that.” At least, I know Amaka is alright. If she was injured, she is supposed to be at the hospital and not locked up.

Sola already helped with providing the police station in which Amaka was being held, I would fill in the missing gaps myself but I still can’t help but wonder whose blood was lying on my rug. I am really confused.

*************

“Hi. Good evening Officer.”

“Evening madam.”

“Please, I am looking for a friend of mine who is said to be in your custody here.”

“Her name?”

“Amaka Jones”

“Amaka?” he said disdainfully

“Wetin happen oga?”

“Who she be to you?”

“Na my friend.”

“You be friend with that kind girl? That girl wey no get respect ehn! She don dey frustrate everybody for here since morning. That girl na murderer! If no be say she get powerful people behind her, I go don torture her so tey, you no go even recognize am; especially that her heavy backside! Chai, the girl carry!”

“Gbam! Gaps are on their way to being filled” I murmured to myself and I shook my head for the officer.

“Why you dey shake your head? Wetin happen?”

“Nothing officer. Can I still see her officer?”

“Sure why not! As per say you sef carry. I can see why una be friends”

The officer looked like Mr. Ibu in Police Uniform; crazy people are in the police force.

Amaka was lying down on a flat slab in a room not necessarily locked up. But seriously this girl is a fool. Who lies down to sleep in a police station?

“Hey! You, you get visitor o!” the Police Officer screamed.

Amaka rose to sit and face the Police Officer who refused to leave.

“Can you leave us alone now at least I’m not charged yet. I don’t know why una never lock me up sef.”

“No worry opeke, we go lock you up soon!” he said hissing and leaving.

“Sola told me you are here and I don’t seem to understand, Sola, you! What’s up?”

“Wo o, forget! How was your date na? and don’t tell me you left your date to come here o!”

“You don craze shey you know? Which is more important? A date or you? Even though the date sucks; I swear, you don’t wanna know what happened.”

“Hey, look at me. It’s gonna be fine. Whatever happened, I’m gonna hear it at home.” She said holding my hand like a fairy godmother.

“Awwww! Hey look at me too! You gonna rot here if you don’t start talking and leave my date alone.”

“You are a fool!” she said looking for something to throw.

“Eh ya! You see what I am saying. There is no pillow here to throw and I wish I’m sorry about that. . . You wanna start telling me what happened?” I said with so much fun bullying her.

“Okay. . . "


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*what do you think happened?

Memoirs of A Repentant Hooker - Episode 8

It rang 6.00a.m. sharp. . . Nothing’s constant like the precision of my alarm clock waking me up when it needed to. Rising from the bed isn’t one of my favourite to do list events but staying too long on the bed could make me sick. . . Right! But staying on the bed all day long is Amaka’s most hideous hobby. She calls it ‘beauty rest’! lmao! How I wish that was really true; lazy Igbo girl!

The whole compound was silent except for the glorious sounds coming from Mama Seun and her husband’s quarters and that could only be one thing. Well, I am impressed Mama Seun could make him sound that way but I guess I make him yell!

“Really, early morning sexual fantasies?”

It was as if I was Riggan and there was a birdman voice but the difference is I wasn’t tormented but bullied by a voice not an inch closer to Birdman’s but very much similar to Amaka’s.

“What?” I said facing her.

“Water. . . You make him yell!” she said spoiling her whole face.

“Never knew I said that out!”

“Well you did!”

“And I thought you were sleeping. . .”

“And I was until you started becoming weird. . .”

“I wasn’t fantasizing, I was just. . ."

“Devil, I bind you. Commot here abeg! Shoo!”

. . . And she literally shut me up.

“Well, I am not going.”

“Well, you will!”

I could see her aiming for under the pillow, whatever she was gonna bring, I don’t want to wait to see it, I dashed out with my phone in hand, jamming the door behind me. I could hear her hysterical laugh.

“I’m glad you fear me babe cos I wasn’t going to bring out anything under that pillow except for my hair net which I forgot to put on last night.”

“Go to hell!” I opened the door slightly and screamed back at her.

“I love you too!” she said back.

I hit the showers and that’s the only thing I love about the house apart from the kitchen. It has a ridiculous structuring; a self-contain where me and Amaka stays, more or less like a one-bedroom flat, it has a boys-quarters with five rooms at the back where Mama Seun, her husband and two kids share a room, Mama Titi and her friend’s husband, literally, now her husband stays in another, Papa Chinyere, Mama Chinyere and Chinyere in one, Okon, Amaka’s unexplored virgin friend who I’m sure Amaka would end up deflowering one day stays in another and finally, Eliza who I think might be experiencing sexual abuse from his father with all those breasts dangling around stays  in another with him. . . What a house setting I must say!

I laid in the Jacuzzi, soaked myself soaked in bubble baths in my strawberry shower gel with my headset tightly held to my head, I hit the play button with Omawumi’s “Love Wantintin” blasting through my ear drums and it felt like heaven. Listening to her makes me soul come alive. She has this voice indescribable, I call it a designer-voice! If you hear Megbele, you’d know it’s her!
I was in this position enjoying the cool massage coming from the bath and shuffling songs between Omawumi’s “Stay Alive”, “In the Music”, “Niger Delta 1” and “Megbele” for like 45 minutes. . . Maximally satisfied, I ran a cold bath; I love a cold bath after a long-stretch of warmness. I made for the room, Amaka was very much sleeping, she doesn’t pretend but a little side talk or comment wakes her up, she comments and trips off again.

I massaged my body gently with my luscious body lotion. It’s my most expensive beauty routine item after my clothes and heels. I slipped into a jean trouser, a crop top, tied my hair in buns and I made for the sitting room. It was already fifteen minutes past 7. I plugged in my phone to the speaker and I was blasting Mocheedah’s “Destinambari” featuring the king of Alobam, Phyno with all other songs waiting in line after it. I made for the kitchen which was only separated from the sitting room by some fine carvings of wood work in a cute and sexy way.

One thing was sure, I was hyper-active this morning but guess this was the good type. The only craving I have right now is scrambled egg, bread and coffee. I set to it with my Beyonce shaking to every blasting song. In less than five minutes, my scrambled egg was ready and in another two minutes, my coffee was ready and I never forgot to plan for the devil’s meal with mine. . . Making the necessary cleanings, Solid Star’s Oluchi was blasting and I couldn’t resist the sweetness but had to switch on my Igbo dancing skills.

“Shoo! Na dance be that? What are you even good at sef? Sexual fantasies and scrambled eggs cos that definitely smells nice.”

“Speaking of the devil some few minutes ago, I never knew she would be up so soon.” I fired back at her making my way to sit with my portion of the breakfast.

“Na me be devil o! but I won’t forget. Big sisters let things slide. . . Anyways, the dance wasn’t that bad. You tried.”

“Thanks. . . What’s up with waking up early?” I turned to face her only to discover she was off in the kitchen.

“Have you forgotten I have an appointment today? The event planning proposal I have to deliver. You know I am not the only one hoping to be awarded the contract.”

“So what time is your presentation?”

“10am and thereafter I am coming back home to sleep my head off. It's just an hour presentation or even less than. ”

“You eating without brushing? No wonder your teeth is off-white.” I said going to the kitchen to drop my empty plate and cup.

“You know I tried to be so intimidated but I couldn’t be. You know why? Cos you don’t need a filter for these teeth. It’s whiter than your white pant!” she said, opening wide her canine and molars. This girl is so disgusting, chai!

“And by the way, scramble eggs and coffee is like kissing to me. You don’t remember brushing your teeth when you wake up in the morning say 4-5am and you slam your partner some crazy sloppy kisses. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. The bathroom is waiting for you. Countdown to 10am.”

“Lest I forget, your coffee sucks, you need to learn from the best, and I am the best, queen of coffee.

“Well, I am glad that sucked coffee fed your belly this morning and remember to tell your future husband when you feed him coffee as breakfast, lunch and dinner that you are the queen of coffee!”

“I need not do that, you can do that when you meet him for me. Crazy ass!” she said hitting me throwing splashes of water from the sink at me as she went off to the bathroom.

“Wow! Looks like someone treated herself to a wonderful bubble bath. . . and all those love songs you playing. . .”

“That was mere coincidence.” I fired back.

“Definitely!”

Then she stopped talking and all I could hear was splashes of running water. In less than five minutes, Amaka was out; the fastest ‘bather’ I ever know. The highest she ever spends in the bathroom is 5minutes 60seconds and that’s approximately six minutes. Then she came out all dress in a white no-sleeved jumpsuit with her 7 inches braids all in black tied in a bun, makeup and brows on fleek and her feet perfectly rocking a 3 inches blue heels and a neutral coloured purse, Amaka rocks into the sitting room like a queen. It wasn’t only the makeup and brows that was on fleek, the jumpsuit put the nicki minaj behind her on fleek.

“Awwww! You gorgeous darling.”

“I know that.”

“You are a fool, you can just say thanks and stop feeling yourself.”

“You know I meant thank you and by the way, your Beyonce is beginning to compete with my Nicki these days, are you taking something for those kids?”

“You crazy!”

“So, what’s up with you and Jide? You like him I can tell.” She asked sitting beside me on the sofa, facing me like she wants to lie-detect me.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I said slightly smiling and trying to avoid her eyes.

“Wow! You don’t like him, you love him and I can tell. It’s all over you. . . Omo, this na ebola o! No cure for am”

“Craze dey worry you.”

“Anyways, we would talk more about this when I get back but you have my full support in whatever your heart requires and cook something before I get back.” She stood to leave.

“Well, I have a date for 4pm and I might not be at home not to talk of cooking for you.”

“Another date? Well, that’s good. Make sure you have fun only if you remember to bring another KFC.”

“No be only KFC, na CFK!. . . But it’s not yet 10!”

*************

“Hi”

“Hello” I replied

That was Sola’s sister I guess. It was kinda weird, I mean this type of date. Jide didn’t tell me we were going for lunch at his parents. Too sudden I guess. Maybe he was overwhelmed in the excitement and he his trying to taking things a little bit up notch or he is trying to impress me. Whichever way, I am here already and it’s too late to turn back but I am definitely gonna make sure to tell him not to pull that kind of surprises on me again. I’m not used to it. I can only pray the lunch goes well.

“This is Sade Jones, my sister. Our last born. She is in the University studying Food Technology. In her second year actually.”

“Hi. It’s my pleasure to meet you.” I replied, facing the sister and exchanging handshake with her. Which lady does handshake? Except me! Handshake is typical guys.

“And this is my brother, Femi Jones, he’s the 3rd born, after me. He is in his finals at the University, studying Chemical Engineering.”

“And finally, this is my big sister, she’s the first born of the house, I came after her. She’s married and she came around to spend some days with Mum and Dad with her husband. She graduated four years ago with B. A. Mass Communication and she’s an ace broadcaster. Her name is Kayinsola and this is her husband, Uncle Funso.” He said pointing facing their side.

“And their little baby Folakemi.”

“Good evening ma, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you.”

“It’s our pleasure to meet you too.” They said in chorus. It’s like they’ve rehearsed it but yet I was still a little bit uncomfortable. I am yet to meet the real goons of the house; Mr. and Mrs. Jones.

Finally, the table was set and we all seated to eat when Mrs. Jones walked in and I greeted her warmly and she gave me a warm embrace not knowing who I am yet. Maybe it never mattered for now because I was with her son and she knows definitely the introduction is going to come. With everybody seated except Mr. Jones, but not for long as he walked in a top and short. His face looks familiar. Can’t remember where but I hope it’s not where I am thinking it is and I hope it’s just an assumption and that hopefully none of us has ever seen each other before. He sat down and was calm but I greeted him and he greeted me too.

Jide blessed the meal and he told his family he wanted to say something.

“Before we eat, I would want to introduce someone who all my siblings have met except you Mum and Dad.”

“She is. . . “

“She is nobody!” Jide’s dad screamed.
Everyone was surprised and now it looks like my world was gonna crash.

“Dad!”

“Son!” He screamed back at Jide.

“This is no girlfriend of yours.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend yet dad but maybe soon but for now she’s just a friend.”

I really wished Jide hasn’t said that, that wasn’t necessary or maybe it was my feelings that was hurt.

“Well son, this is no friend of yours!”

“What’s going on here?” Jide’s elder sister, Kayinsola asked, facing her dad.

“Hey young lady, stand up, on your feet.”

He screamed at me.

I couldn’t stand up, my feet were cold, it was obvious we had met in the course of my rendezvous but I can’t remember having anything to do with him.

“Do you remember me? Allen Venue, late last year, around 10pm?”

I was speechless still.

“You see son! This girl is a hooker! A prostitute. She sleeps with men for money and the sexual enjoyment.” He said facing Jide.

“And how do you know all of that Dad? 10pm? Allen Avenue? What were you doing there?” He said with his voice becoming violent towards his dad.

“I won’t have you question me in my own home or create unnecessary fuss over this prostitute here. This lunch is over.”

“Shall we?” Jide’s voice beckon on me to stand up.

I left without a word. I was broken. Jide never said a word throughout the drive home. Even when he dropped me at home, he never uttered a word or open the door of the car for me as he used to. I sat for an hour in front of the house speechless, sad and hurt.

The whole compound was extremely silent. It was becoming late, to 7pm. I decided to open my door. I came in, on the light to an huge display of fresh blood all over the rug and smelling hugely. I was scared. No one was around. Not even one neighbour. Has someone broken in? And by the way where's Amaka? She was supposed to be at home. What has happened to her?

I dialled Amaka's line countlessly, it wasn't reachable. There's a huge cause for alarm. Where's Amaka? Who would I call now?

New Month Message

Happy New Month Fabulous Readers of EGO's Writing Crib. I must say that I appreciate your consistency and blog visiting as you painstakingly and undoubtedly follow this first series of mine. Your comment and all encourages me and I am indeed blessed to have people like you reading my creative works.

To all my readers born in the month of March, I say a happy birthday to you all in advance and in arrears.

May this new month be all that you ever wished for. I love you all. Happy New Month.


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