All Rights Reserved. This story is completely a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

SYNOPSIS: This is a romantic tale packed with suspense about a young man who hardly believes in love, who enters a bus, meets a pretty young lady, and has some thrilling, wonderful, exciting, and shocking experience that completely alters his whole life.

CHAPTER 1
I have heard so many people say that everything that happens to us happen for a reason, or putting it succinctly, happens to us according to God’s plan. I know there are some people who believe that so many things that happen to us in this life are just beyond coincidence and it will only take a conscious observer to connect all the dots but I was never one of such people simply because I don’t believe in coincidence, chance, fate, destiny, luck, and suchlike.

Until it happened to me.

My name is Vincent. Vincent Chukwuma Dike. I was about to board a bus to Lagos from Enugu and the next available Peace Mass Transit bus ready to leave was already filled up. That was supposed to be my greatest dilemma at the moment.

But as fate would have it—it had to be fate alright—it just happened that about twenty or so minutes before I arrived at the motor park at Holy Ghost, one of the men who had already bought the ticket for the journey received a call informing him to cancel his trip to Lagos because the date for the occasion he was supposed to be attending has been postponed. This man was anywhere around fifty to sixty years of age and the creases on his rough face showed that age has not treated him fairly.

His own dilemma at that particular time was the no refund of payment after purchase of ticket policy and since he didn’t want to completely lose the money he had already paid, he had decided to hang around to wait and see if he could sell his ticket to another Lagos-bound passenger. He was so gladdened when I appeared from nowhere and stepped forward to purchase the ticket off him.

We started to bargain. The normal price for the ticket that very day was three thousand naira but after he explained his situation to me, and being the haggler that I am, I quickly saw the opportunity and went in for the kill. I offered to give him two thousand naira for the ticket and he immediately turned down the offer but since I could see from his demeanor that he was in a kind of haste to leave, I stuck to my guns.

“OK. Two five, last,” the man said at last, though grudgingly.

I didn’t budge.

“Sir, as you can see, quite unlike you, I’m not in a hurry to leave so if you like, leave it for me at two thousand, if you like, go home with your ticket. I don’t care! I can wait until another bus loads…” I bluffed in a very nonchalant take-it-or-leave-it manner equally matched with a feigned bored expression on my face.

He considered it for awhile. In truth, I knew I was worse off because I was really in a hurry and I really cared because I wanted to get going asap which also means I couldn’t even think of missing this glorious opportunity by foolishly waiting for another bus to fill up—as that can take a very long time for buses plying the Enugu–Lagos route most especially at this time of the day when most passengers travelling to Lagos will only be trickling in—just because of one thousand naira, but then just like anybody who knows how to drive a hard bargain will tell you, you dare not show your hand or else you risk being exploited big time!

Besides, if the man knew what I had gone through the day before just to raise the five thousand naira I had with me for the journey and all that haggling I was doing was just to save some money, I wonder what he would have done or said to me.

But I knew I also had to make my offer sweeter and more difficult for him to refuse, so in a last but well-concealed desperate move to close the deal I said, “Okay sir, please just listen to me, the thing is that if you will just agree to leave that one thousand naira for me right now, once I come back from Lagos, you and I, we are going to have a nice time because I am going to buy you some drinks. I promise.” I just said this because I could see from his bloodshot eyes that the man looked like someone who was heavily into drinking.

Surprisingly, that did it. The man looked at me closely for some six to ten seconds and I looked back into his eyes steadily while trying to establish my authority, and then his eyes glistened as he reached his own decision and finally backed down.

He managed a smile and his face suddenly lost five years as he relaxed. He then fumbled in his shirt pocket and brought out the ticket. I noticed the other passengers in the bus were silently watching the little drama. I knew they were also eager to hit the road.

As he handed it over to me, he said, “This young man, it’s like you are very cunning. Anyway, I like your style and I’m already looking forward to that drink. Now give me the money!”

He grinned, revealing some of his dirty tobacco stained teeth in the process. I smiled back at him and brought out two one thousand naira notes and gave them to him and collected the ticket from him. As I put the ticket into the breast pocket of my sparkling white shirt, I thanked him and to make my own end of the deal stick, I quickly requested for his phone number so that I will call him whenever I returned so that we could have that drink.

I didn’t expect him to but he called out his number and I chuckled as I saved it. Maybe he believed he was going to get the drink, maybe he did not, but one thing I know, he wasn’t going to get it from me!

The whole transaction lasted for about four minutes. He then bade everybody in the bus goodbye and quickly left. I moved inside the bus and occupied the seat he had vacated.

to be continued...

sail on,,

I sat in the row directly behind the driver and in the spot exactly in between one young man on my right and a very sweet-looking young lady on my left. I quickly looked around in the bus as if to assess the whole scene and the faces of the people I will be travelling with.

It was a 14-seater Toyota Hiace commuter bus. I could see that some of the occupants were middle-aged family men and women with their kids although there were also some youths who I guessed must be students too just like the two people seated by my sides. As the girl shifted to make more room for me to readjust myself in the seat, I noticed she was smiling demurely at me.

“What?” I asked, bemused.

“Nothing,” she said but continued smiling. I love it when pretty girls smile at me. Then her smile became a grin and she revealed a perfect and well arranged set of white teeth work in the process.

“Tell me, what’s so funny?”

“Are you really going to buy that drink for him?”

“What do you think?”

“I know you won’t!” she threw it back at me.

“Don’t be too sure. Anyway, even if I don’t buy for him, at least, I know I will buy for you,” I said as I wrote down my name on the manifest. I could feel her eyes watching me and reading what I was writing.

Since I was the last person to write my name on the manifest, there was no way I could have guessed her name but I quickly scanned the names and made some mental notes on the likely names on the list that could be hers judging by the handwritings.

“Nice handwriting,” she commented.

“Thank you.”

I quickly glanced over at her. I noticed her chocolate brown complexion which matched her black silk dress perfectly. She had a very good, healthy, clean and non-bleached spotless skin. I also took in her light make-up and her perfume which scented just okay.

My scanning eyes quickly picked out her cleavage in the low cut blouse that housed her big brëàsts. The sight of the enticing swell of her brëàsts which seem as if they were threatening to bust out delighted my eyes and suddenly sent a rush of blood down my trousers.

I would have loved to continue with the downward scanning but her sitting position wouldn’t allow me to see that much but I still caught a glimpse of her knees. I noticed she was also trying to peer at me from the corners of her right eye but she was doing it cautiously and in a very shy manner, probably because she was aware I was looking at her.

“So tell me, what makes you think I won’t buy the drink for him?”

She chuckled but didn’t say anything.

“Umm… what man doesn’t like it when someone offers to buy him a drink? If it were me, I will still believe him as long as I have nothing to lose except… maybe, my one thousand naira…” the guy seated on my right quipped and some passengers in the bus giggled.

“Well, I know you said that to him just for saying sake but I must say you really sounded so convincing.” That came from the girl. “Are you by any chance, a salesman?”

“Umm… sort of,” I replied.

She smiled again but didn’t say anything further. She went back to reading the novel she had with her as we continued waiting for the bus driver to return from where he went to submit the manifest before we could start off the journey.

I took another look at her. She seems interesting, I told myself. Still aware of being scrutinized, she looked up from her book and looked at me, then threw me a quizzical beam with her eyes that equally enthralled me as if to ask me why was I staring but at the same time told me, with that sweet smile dancing on her cute lipstick-red full lips, that she didn’t mind, and then she went back to her book.

Well, well, well, funny guy, lovely lady, funny and lively people. Looks like I’m going to enjoy this trip!

I glanced at my watch. It was 10:34 a.m. I did a quick mental math in my head. If everything goes well, at least we should be in Lagos by latest 4 or 5 p.m.

It wasn’t long before the driver came back from submitting the manifest and it was all set and off we went.

Destination: Lagos.

to be continued...

#surulere

#ride on

CHAPTER 2

I was going to Lagos for an interview. My uncle who was living in Lagos called me last night and told me about the interview. So many people were now interested in getting me a job. I don’t blame them. It is now four good years since I graduated from Nnamdi Azikiwe University, Awka popularly called Unizik and this was going to be my twenty second interview in search of securing that very elusive job.

Getting a job after graduation for most graduates in Nigeria was fast becoming a very daunting task with the available jobs so scarce and the competition so fierce. Several years of brazen mismanagement of the country’s resources by her past leaders with no apparent plans for the youth in this regard has jeopardized the fortunes of so many of her young people thereby leaving in its wake, a teeming but glaringly disturbing number of her graduates wallowing in abject unemployment with no hope in sight.

I am one of such people. I have been trying to secure a job for four years now but all to no avail. I graduated from the department of Civil Engineering with a second class honors upper division but that didn’t help either.

Like most undergraduates, when we got admitted into the university, we were given the orientation that once you can graduate with at least a 2:1, which is second class upper as it is commonly referred to as in Nigeria, you won’t have any hard times finding a job.

As I was to later find out for myself, it turns out it was a very big lie!

Civil Engineering does not rank anywhere among the easy-peasy courses you can study in the university. In fact, the opposite is more like the case. I struggled through five tough years of hell to make good grades in courses like engineering drawings, designing beams and trusses, metallurgical designs, strength of material, architectural design and drawing plans for the laying of house foundations.

But when we finally graduated, the startling and harsh reality on grounds took so many of us by surprise when the time came and I discovered that even my two-one could not help me secure any job in Civil Engineering field.

At first, I was only solely concerned with securing a job in my Civil Engineering field but after several months of trying and failing, it became so obvious to me that I had better spread the net and try other engineering fields.

There was no luck there either.

I started applying for jobs that were not even remotely related to any aspect of Engineering. I tried the banking sector which was just about the sole and the highest employer of labor in the country before Sanusi struck. I tried insurance. I even considered going into agriculture. In fact, I became a steady visitor to all popular job websites in Nigeria. I never missed any edition of Thursday Guardian Newspaper where adverts for most job vacancies were posted.

No show.

The only result I got was the continuous dissatisfaction plus disillusionment I have firmly developed somewhere deep in my psyche for the Nigerian system.

Of course, I got called up for so many aptitude tests and a couple of interviews but the result was always the same: we will contact you later.
Which they never did, of course!

It got to a point where I finally decided to give up with the whole business of job search. My friends who had done so earlier on had told me to simply just forget everything about getting a job in Nigeria unless, as they put it, you happen have a godfather somewhere or your father, or mother, or uncle, or aunty is in government or knows someone in government, or maybe knows someone who knows someone who knows where the job is.

They also told me that most of those jobs I see being advertised on the newspapers are just mere façade because the so called vacancies have long since been filled and the real job openings are never advertised.

“See my friend let me tell you something you don’t know, this country is completely messed up so unless you are well connected in this country, you are not going to get that job!” they concluded as they tried to get me to reason with them.

Well, I knew they had a point there but yet I still believed in the principles of merit. I strongly believed that if you really deserve something and you really worked so hard for it, that very thing will surely come to you one day. So I continued to try—although with disheartening faith and mounting hopelessness.

But the days dragged and soon became months and the months became years but the job still remained elusive so when my uncle called me last night and told me that I should start coming to Lagos immediately for an interview because Julius Berger was recruiting, I became even more convinced that my friends were right about the intricacies involved in getting a job in Nigeria because I never heard or read anywhere that Julius Berger Nigeria Plc was recruiting.

to be continued...

From the way he sounded on the phone, I knew I had to act fast too. Enugu is about six to seven hours to Lagos on a very fast bus baring some unforeseen circumstances like delays in long traffic jams, unnecessary and frequent stoppages by the policemen at checkpoints, unfortunate incidence of highway robbery attacks or even complete vehicle breakdown and so if I must make it in time, I knew I had to leave very early.

That was why when that man told me he wanted to sell his ticket to me, I saw the timely opportunity there and took it immediately. You see, the truth is that I didn’t have the time to wait for another bus to be filled up before we could take off. And then coupled with that price reduction too, you know…?

So when I was through with the call, I quickly ransacked my brain in search of a friend who could easily help me out with the money I needed to add to my own till within such a short notice.

I had only two thousand naira on me that very night but I didn’t feel like withdrawing from my GTB savings account. Hey, don’t blame me, there’s a reason it’s called savings account, okay?

Now there is this thing with guys I have shockingly discovered but have also come to accept. Okay, let me just say, this thing with most guys. Most guys will not give, or rather let me put it this way; most guys will never give you the money when you need it, and most especially when you really needed it.

The funniest part is that at such times, these guys will prefer to give you a load of reasons instead on why they don’t have it at that particular time and leaving you wondering why it just happens that you and your guys always seem to be so broke at the same time.

Surprisingly, these same guys won’t hesitate to buy for you at least one more bottle of beer, maybe as a tactical way of still keeping the already existing camaraderie between you guys alive, maybe in case of tomorrow or something. I don’t just know. Well, I know I’ve been guilty of this on several occasions so it’s not like I’m complaining though.

But I have so many of such friends. Take Eze for instance, although he is from a very wealthy family and we have been close friends for a very long time now, but hardly will he give you any money unless you are ready to do something worthwhile, no matter how little, in return for him. Luckily for both of us, most times, his ‘problem’ has never been something I couldn’t adequately handle.

Somehow, Eze often had a pretty difficult time in convincing women to go out with him. This, I have come to find out boils down to the fact that Eze is very direct and aggressive when he goes for a woman and his motive is always so obvious as he always makes a very bad job of masking his hastiness and sexual designs for them and most ladies, minus the ones who already knew he’s got a lot of money to burn, usually don’t like being objectified like that and they usually end up rejecting him—at first, though.

But I never had such ‘problems’. I have a way with women and they seem to like and trust me so much—and so soon. I never saw this as an advantage that can be exploited until Eze pointed it out to me. Maybe it’s my charm or a gift, like Eze will put it but I have noticed women tend to feel free and easily relax themselves so much when they are around me.

I knew this can only be as a result of the fact that I have taken quite some time to actually study and understand women and what makes them tick, something I’m so sure most guys, like Eze for example, will never ever bother with.

On top of that, I knew how to wait and take my time with them by deflecting my sexual intentions while giving them first a full dose of my wits and my sense of humor which oftentimes comes with a spontaneous dash of craze and unpredictability, a touch of weirdness plus lots and lots of teasing too.

That seems to be working so well for me. Of course, I already knew from experience that most girls also want a little bit of romance, pursing, flirting, seduction, petting, mystery, and drama too.

It’s either Eze didn’t know this or he had no such time. I think I’ll go for the latter. With him, it’s either you are ready to be banged or you are out. Deal…? Deal. Good. Okay fine, let’s go! That’s just the way it works with him.

So in a way, I have to admit that I became a kind of love-vendor and a wingman all rolled into one for Eze, alternating between the two roles as situation demands. I had a feeling it suited him perfectly. I think he always enjoyed to sit back and watch me introduce the girls to him—like he was some big shot—yes, like he’d normally say, in the Big Boy’s way!

We were a tag team, sort of. I cultivate the lively environment women want. Eze waters it by providing the cash that girls want. The girls have no choice other than to follow our lead—to wherever it led—which was usually straight to the club or eateries, and then straight to our bedroom where the real fun begins.

Occasionally when he needs a girl to satisfy his lustful desires, which was almost all the time as I have every reason to believe that his libido worked overtime, he’d then dole out some cash to me and I’d then have to work my magic, as he called it.

to be continued...

Now with my uncle’s call, I knew that if I had to get the money from Eze, there is only one thing I could do. I went over to his place that night. Besides womanizing, one other thing he liked so much was football. His favorite football club was Chelsea. He was always about The Blues this, The Blues that.

I was not all that into football although I know I always enjoyed the sublime artistry with which Lionel Messi and the entire Barcelona team made the beautiful game look so easy. Tonight, the hormones driving Eze were more biased towards soccer than women so I knew it will take some time and effort before I can get him thinking along that direction.

I endured and sat through the first half of the boring game between Stoke City and Chelsea and pretended that I liked how the men kept on running aimlessly all over the field and chasing and passing the ball. My chance came when one advertisement on his big flat screen television showed a very pretty lady with some nice shapely figure trying to explain some things to her audience. I took my chance immediately.

“Ahem! Eze, Eze! Eze, O-four-two! Guy, this reminds me, guess what I saw today…?” I always repeat his name if I want to persuade him to get something from him. I normally start by singing his praises too.

042 is the area code for city of Enugu which also goes by the slang name Coal City and Eze often prides himself as the king of Enugu. You wouldn’t blame him though, after all eze means king in Igbo language.

“What?” he asked me, a little bit apprehensive but I could still sense his apprehended excitement.

“I ran into one fine babe in my area today and we got talking. Guy, I’m telling you, this girl eh, she really looks so delicious and tantalizing… oh my God! She looks so sweet… you know… your type? You know I know what you like!” I licked my lips for effect.

“Vinso my man, you have come again!” he said offhandedly but surprisingly he didn’t sound convincingly doubtful so I knew I stood a chance. Plus, he just called me Vinso! He has a weakness for pretty women and anytime he calls me Vinso, it usually means he was also in an incredibly high spirits!

“No! Seriously, I can convince her to come and stay with you for the whole night! Trust me! You know I can easily do it! But you also know what it will take for me to make it happen, right?” I suddenly made my voice tough and demanding.

He knew quite alright. It was our little game. We’ve always bet on so many different things so many times in the past and we both knew how this works. It will start with either of us putting up a challenge and making it into a bet. The other person will then take up the challenge, if he feels like it. Eze normally backs up his challenge with some money.

If the bet has anything to do with getting a girl for him, like now, I will then pocket the money only to later return with a pretty and willing girl who will be his companion and take care of his libido whenever the urge bites down on him. We also knew that if he raised the ante, sometimes I ended up surprising him by bringing him two girls where he was expecting only one.

If I lost the bet, then I will have to return his money and he will give me a new task like washing his car or cleaning up his apartment or even getting me to execute some menial tasks we both knew I don’t so much like doing like driving him around town for the rest of that very day or the next day if it was already night.

Yes, he was like that. When your father is a regional marketing manager of a big mobile telecommunication giant like Airtel Nigeria, you can afford to use people that way, maybe, just for the fun of it.

I have never failed in getting girls for him even for one day. But then, how can I fail when I also do this sort of pimping by cruising around town with his flashy ‘End of Discussion’. I don’t know why girls love flashy cars. Okay, some girls.

Today, I was seriously counting on him raising the ante and offering nothing less than ten thousand naira but he shocked me this time around with his next statement.

“Vinso my mannest man, you see, you know like I told you the other time, I’m still expecting the money my dad said he was going to send to me and I don’t have much on me right now so my guy, just accept this my two thousand naira, okay?”

Two what?! I couldn’t believe my ears. I watched him as he fumbled in his jeans trousers pocket and he retrieved the cash. “Okay, I’ll make it three. Vinso my man, anyhow, I trust you will still do your magic with it, or won’t you? Vinso the man, guy, I know you will still deliver! So hurry up man, ‘cause I’m already waiting for you!”

Can you imagine? Anyhow? The fact that he was scratching his head and avoided my eyes as he spoke told me he was not completely upfront with the truth. He was expecting me to perform my magic with how much?

He didn’t know it but he was already in for a surprise. I didn’t even ask for his car keys. I just collected the money, pocketed it, excused myself out of his house and out of that boring football match and started heading back to my one room apartment without any plans of even trying to make any attempt of arranging any girl for him that very night. I was glad he couldn’t tear himself away from the live match as that would have certainly ruined everything for me, if he had insisted on coming with me.

to be continued...

Interessant!

Merci bien Monsieur Fourcade.

I knew he was definitely going to come for his money the next morning because he never joked with his money but I also knew that by then I would be on a bus en route to Lagos and I can explain everything to him on the phone, that is, if his anger and frustration will even let him call. That way, he will rant and rave but he will be denied the pleasure of cursing me in person.

I woke up the next morning and started packing. The last time I came so close to securing a job and ending the job hunt, I lost out because I appeared for the interview almost two hours after the stated time.

It was a new and small private architectural firm. They were temporarily hiring experienced hands that would help them complete the building designing plan contract they just won from the Edo State government with a view to converting them to permanent staff when the contract is over. Although they still granted me the interview, maybe out of courtesy or maybe just to see if they could put me on standby, I knew I had already lost out.

To make matters worse, they needed only five people and I later heard from one of the interviewers, a tomboyish looking lady who looked like she liked my face, that I could have gotten the job simply because the fifth guy they took did not even perform better than what I did with my AUTOCAD skills but they have already told the guy that he’s been hired.

Although I accepted it as one of those things in life, I didn’t feel like telling anyone that the real reason why I appeared late for that interview was because I left for the journey late.

The company hiring was located in Benin City and since I was staying at Awka then, I calculated and concluded that the journey will not take more than three hours give or take which means that I can leave by eleven in the morning knowing that I will still arrive at Benin latest by two before the interview which was slated for three in the afternoon.

How was I to know that on that same day, some daredevil armed robbers chose to operate along the Benin-Agbor Expressway which brought the traffic on that very route, both to and fro, to a total and disappointing halt?

When the military men who arrived at the scene were finally able to subdue the highway robbers after killing some of them in the ensuing gunfight, the rest dropped their weapons and fled due to the superior firepower of the soldiers.

The whole operation had lasted for close to one hour or thereabout. By the time you add that loss time to the time it took me to locate that architecture firm in Benin City, I had spent close to another thirty minutes or so.

Like I said, I blamed it on fate even though I knew that somehow, I was responsible for what happened to me. Had it been I left for the interview around eight or nine in the morning, I knew I would have arrived on time but that is just one thing with me, sometimes for no reason at all, I just like to take unnecessary risks.

But this time around, I was going to Lagos and from the way my uncle sounded on the phone, I knew a lot was at stake. The fact that he got the information from an insider told me a lot about what I was really in for.

I quickly threw in a couple of shirts and trousers and some other personal effects into a knapsack, slung it behind my back and then armed with a big brown file envelope containing all my vital credentials plus a copy of my CV, I locked my door and quickly left for the motor park before Eze would come and spoil my plans for me.

to be continued...

CHAPTER 3

For most Christians in Nigeria, most long distance journeys normally start with someone inside the bus requesting that other passengers should join him or her in prayers to ask for God’s mercy and protection from road accidents or something of that nature.

One woman in the bus who was also travelling with a man who could have been her boyfriend or husband started it for us. Soon a lot of people joined in the chorus and praise singing.

I am not a strong believer so I don’t normally join in such long prayers which I even considered oftentimes to be quite superfluously frivolous and nothing but an unnecessary display of religiousness on the part of the people, and I hated such pious displays with a passion but then, what do you expect?

Nigerians are so good in freely displaying their religiousness for anyone who cared to see. But I am always like why are you praying now? Didn’t you pray in your house before starting the journey? Oh, now I get it. It’s funny, isn’t it? Obviously, you are praying now because you don’t want to die in a road accident after all you like this life so much and you definitely want to enjoy your life to the fullest, huh… huh? Ha ha…

But all the same, it gives the passengers the opportunity to get to know each other, their religious background—and bias, as well as their supposed closeness to God which they unabashedly show off when some of them even start speaking in tongues.

But as for me, it gives me something more. Since most people closed their eyes in prayers, I often take it as an opportunity to really look around and study them more closely.

You see, I love watching and studying people. I often pride myself that I can tell a lot about a person just by mere looking at them and trying to see if I could read them.

When the prayers and the praise singing was finally over, some of the passengers now started the normal ritual of initiating new relationships by exchanging of pleasantries and sometimes, shaking of hands.

This was the part I liked most. The best part of any relationship is when people start to break the ice. I always enjoy watching their awkwardness as they try to break out of their comfort zone which is normally ruled by shyness and self consciousness into a new familiarity zone borne out of the fact that they will be providing each other company for the next six to seven hours to come.

“It’s like you don’t close your eyes while praying?” the girl beside me quipped. I turned and gave her the are-you-talking-to-me look. There was that smile on her lips which set off her dimples in a manner that made me think of stroking her cheeks for her but I restrained myself.

She was still a stranger, for all I care, and I don’t know how she might take it, although I knew I wouldn’t have tried that anyway. Well, sometimes, I just love kidding myself thinking I could do such things. Anyway, to be frank with you, I’m so sure it would surely come as a great shock and surprise to you if you know the things I always think about.

“But how did you see me if yours were closed?” I countered.

“Didn’t the Bible say watch and pray? How can you watch with closed eyes?” she said and then we broke into laughter. Wow! It’s like she had a sense of humor, a good one for a girl, as a matter of fact.

“I used to close my eyes while praying until the day I accidentally caught my younger brother exchanging the meat in his soup with mine which was bigger than his while we were praying over the food,” I told her.

So many people joined us in the laughter this time around. I loved the environment now. It was beginning to get supercharged with excitement.
“That your brother is a very sharp guy,” the young man who sat beside me said. “He reminds me of me!”

There was another round of laughter. I liked the guy immediately for his wittiness. He also looked sharp and seemed enlightened and I really dig such people.

I turned to him and we started our own conversation.

Soon our discussions changed over a wide range of matters. As usual, we started with Nigerian politics and the so many problems and challenges facing us as Nigerians. Then we talked about some places in Nigeria. Some other passenger soon joined in our discussion and used the opportunity to show off how much they have travelled around the country with their own detailed stories.

Then we discussed academics. I found out he was a student. He told me his name was Paul. We talked geography and about some important places and landmarks in the world. Later, we discussed American politics. Like most guys, he was a soccer lover so he brought up that subject too but he had to drop it when he found out that I am not an ardent fan. But we still managed to touch on WWE and we shared our individual views on whether the show was real or not.

Then we discussed religion. This brought out a lot of reaction from other passengers in the bus because; Nigeria being a very religious country, most of the passengers felt compelled to argue against my freethinking views.

I purposely brought up issues on gay marriage. I enjoyed the heated debate and their reactions so much as they defended their strong Christian and homophobic views. Who would have told them that I always enjoyed playing the devil’s advocate?

to be continued...

I 've book my seat at d front. Waiting for more.

We then moved to conspiracy theories on global terrorism and the financial crisis. Our debate was so interesting and sometimes so fiery that we didn’t notice as time flew by.

Occasionally someone will notice something spectacular or odd in the scenery as we travelled through different towns and draw our attention to it. This will make us to pause in our discussion for a while only to later pick it up from where we stopped. I was enjoying the whole thing as a lot of the passengers warmed up towards me.

All through our discussion, I kept on watching out for the reaction of the girl beside me. She didn’t say much although I would have so much loved it if she had joined us in our discussion because it would have given me the opportunity to know what she was thinking. And Lord knows, I was dying to know what she was thinking.

I like women who make interesting discussions as they intrigue me a lot. It enables me to assess their level of intelligence, experience, and knowledge and for some inexplicable reason, I just felt so compelled to assess hers.

But this one was unnaturally quiet. Maybe, she was not the talking type. It was like she just preferred listening. The only reaction I got from her was when, out of the corner of my eyes, she will throw me a glance whenever I said something she may have considered either expressive or witty or even offensive, only that I never knew which one it was.

I knew there was a way I could draw her out so with the help of Paul, I subtly guided our discussion to the one thing I know all women loved to talk about – love, romance and relationships.

I purposely brought up the debate on who actually benefits more in a relationship between men and women but the people in the bus misread it and thwarted my purpose by quickly misguiding the topic into the popular gender wars.

As expected, the men in the bus defended themselves and men in general by opining that men suffered more. The women did the same thing by defending and siding with themselves and all this brought out that sexist angle of the whole thing and we soon descended into the never ending argument of who is better than the other between men and women.

The argument lingered for long as both parties continued throwing banters back and forth at each other highlighting their strengths and the others’ weaknesses. Once again, she didn’t join us as we bantered but I was happy because I still discovered something.

Although she was not saying much, I knew she was listening effectively and paying attention to all what we were saying. How did I know this? Of course, being a very observant person, I noticed she has not turned a page of her book since our argument changed to relationships. In case you don’t know or haven’t recognized it, listening is also a very good sign of interest.

It wasn’t long before we reached Asaba. The bus driver was doing his thing very well and I commended him for his speed and control of the vehicle which some people quickly opposed immediately when I suggested he would even do much better and I would be so glad if he increased his speed but when they found out that I was only joking, they settled down and enjoyed the quip.

The driver switched the dial to change the radio station when the one that was playing some cool jams went off air. The new one he got was doing a phone-in quiz program where the presenter will ask a question which the listeners were supposed to answer correctly to win some fabulous prizes.

“What starts with a P, ends with an E, and has so many letters in it?” the voice over the radio asked.

I knew the answer immediately because I have heard that one before. Somehow, so many of the people that called in were not getting it correct and the presenter kept on telling them to try again.

Some of my fellow passengers also tried to guess the answer but they didn’t get it right. I saw it as an opportunity to display my knowledge to the girl so I turned and asked her if she knew the answer.

She gave me a smile, shook her head and said that she didn’t. I told everyone in the bus that the presenter will later announce that the answer is post office. Everyone laughed because they immediately saw how easy though misleading the question was.

It wasn’t long before another caller phoned in and said the answer is post office. The presenter then confirmed it and told the caller that she has just won herself a recharge card.

The presenter then called out another question.

“If Peter’s father is John’s father’s only son, who is Peter to John? That is to say, what is the relationship between Peter and John?”

This one was quite confusing. Suddenly, it was like everyone in the bus expected me to provide the answer. I took up the challenge. I brought out my pen and paper and started doing some drawings. As I drew, I announced to everyone in the bus that each of them should be ready to give me my own recharge card if I get the answer right. This made them laugh.

to be continued...

I finally came up with the answer that Peter is John’s grandson. I looked up from my paperwork to glance at her and I became instantly happy with what I saw. She was watching me with keen interest and serious concentration. I noticed her eyes were somewhat glowing.

I quickly recognized that sign. Most women, even the unintelligent ones, like smart guys. I became motivated by what I saw in those eyes and I knew that, if not for anything, that I shouldn’t disappoint her now with a wrong answer so I took another look at the question.

That was when I saw what I had easily missed and I was so glad I checked again. I made a mental correction and then reworked my drawings before I boldly wrote it down for her to see that Peter is actually John’s son. Then I looked up and saw their eagerness and it was as if everyone was waiting for me to announce the result.

I didn’t. I was having my best moment enjoying their anxious anticipation plus wonderment and the longer they waited the greater the excitement for me—and her, since she has already seen my answer.

Some callers were already phoning in and most of them kept saying that Peter is John’s grandson while some others said uncle, grandfather, nephew and suchlike. Paul who has been busy working on the answer to the question also said he got the answer as grandson too.

The presenter said they were all wrong.

Finally, I told them that Peter is John’s son because John is Peter’s father. They waited for the radio presenter to confirm it. When the radio presenter who had to announce the answer himself simply because it seems no one was getting it correct and the radio program was gradually drawing to a close finally did confirm it by saying that Peter was John’s son, all the passengers in the bus gave me a thunderous applause and I felt so elated!

Paul wanted to protest because the solution was still fuzzy to him but when I explained it to him in particular with my diagrams; he saw the point there and expressed his acceptance of my simple explanation with a sigh.

The girl in black was looking at me closely. I have seen so many of those looks before when women unconsciously start to react to my so called charms. It was the same look that usually tells me they were beginning to feel something for me. It was the same look girls give me when they suddenly realize we’ve been flirting with each other all along and enjoying it. It was the same where-did-you-come-from kind of look they give me when I get my game going. Obviously, my game was tight.

Not that I didn’t notice anyway because like I said earlier, it has been a long time since she last turned the pages of the novel she was reading. I made a silent prayer of thanks to the driver and that radio presenter too, for helping me score this very all-important point—with her!

She looked at me for a short while and I could see the admiration on her face then she challenged me in a very soft musical voice and said, “It’s like you know a lot of things?”

It was time for me to go in for the kill!

I instinctively knew that if I play my cards well, she will soon be mine. So I turned around, frowned, and then faced her squarely in a very feigned threatening manner. I looked at her sternly for awhile and I saw a wave of something that looked like fear fly across her face as she tensed up then I suddenly relaxed and smiled at her.

“Of course, I know a lot of things and if you don’t give me my prize right now I am going to spoil your fun right now right here by telling you how this novel you are reading ended. I am going to count down from ten so you better do quick…”

She was reading The Other Side of Midnight by Sidney Sheldon. As she started to protest, I said, “Ten…”

“It’s not fair.”

“Nine…”

“Please, don’t do it. It’s not fair…”

“Eight… see, I’m not joking, you better give me something now.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Mean what, what way? Seven…”

“I didn’t mean to insult or challenge you.”

The people in the bus were now enjoying our little game. Some started urging her to give me something while others told her to call my bluff. I kept on smiling but I made sure the smile didn’t reach my eyes. I think she read it correctly.

“Six…?”

“Okay, what do you want? Please…?”

“You will know the true meaning of scapegoat today,” I threatened. “Five…”

“Seriously, I don’t like what you are doing. I said I am sorry, okay…?”

“Four… when I said I was getting my prize, you all thought I was joking, huh?”

“Okay… wait let me give you something…”

“Be fast… three…”

She quickly reached into her purse and started rummaging through it.

“What are you waiting for? Two…”

“Here… take this, you criminal,” she said as she quickly handed me a hundred naira note. I smiled as I collected it and made sure the smile reached my eyes this time around.

“Hmm, did you just say criminal? Anyway you are lucky I’m in my good moods today or else I wouldn’t have shown you any mercy at all. Well, for your information, I haven’t read that book!” I announced and this brought a very big round of thunderous applause. Everybody was clearly having fun.

Even the driver turned around and then looked at me through the rearview mirror and said, “This guy!”

“Give me back my money, you thief,” she said but with all playfulness. She had recovered from her dumbfounded state and was now laughing. Looks like I’ve finally opened her up!

Then she stopped giggling and hissed. “I should have known you are a smooth operator,” she said regretfully and rolled her eyes at me.

I laughed at her last comment and said to her, “Hmm, don’t be too sure because it’s not yet too late for me as I could still spoil the fun for you. By the way, are you aware that there is a sequel to this the Other Side of the Midnight you are reading now which is called the Memories of Midnight? In other words, I can easily spoil your fun right now with this very one you are reading and with the next one that comes after it if I decide to tell you right now what later happened to Constantin Demiris, Noelle and Larry…” I boasted.

Everybody was now confused. I love this. I looked deeply into her eyes and I liked what I saw. I know that look. There was no mistaking it as I have seen that same longing and lost look so many times from so many women in the past. If I were reading the signs correctly, then I think she was beginning to fall for me!

to be continued...

CHAPTER 4

As a guy who is really interested in getting a girl you are meeting for the very first time, you don’t need to do so many things. In fact, all you just have to do is to learn how to attract her instantly but you can only do this well if you are good in understanding people because it is only when you are good in understanding people and the complexities of their emotions that you will be able to read clearly those subtle feedback signals that women send out to show you how well they have received your stimulus plus how they intend to respond.

You will also have to learn how to be unpredictable as well as how to keep up the conversation because women can easily become bored especially when you forget that she will always prefer talking about herself than any other thing else in the world. Your job now simply boils down to giving her audience because women like attention and any man who could make them feel special by courting and granting them that very attention will easily stand a chance in getting into their heads—and of course, into their pants as well, later. Except if that is not what you want…

As long as you don’t go boasting about yourself and talking about the expensive and powerful cars you own and drive or how much money you make or mention that you are the CEO of your company while trying to impress her; as long as you don’t make the mistake of showing her that you just want to have sex with her, there and then, if given the opportunity by making lewd remarks every now and then; then you stand a very big chance of getting her to trust that you are a gentleman.

Don’t worry, the time to talk dirty will come as she already knows that you will naturally want to have sex with her but, first things first, you will need to prove to her first that you are trustworthy.

First impression matters—a lot. Make strong eye contact. Show a lot of confidence. Act gentlemanly. Express your interest in a subtle and playful manner. If she likes you and responds by showing you she’s also interested, you are in. The rest will simply take care of itself.

I looked out of the window and I saw a signpost which told me that we were very close to Benin City. I checked my watch. It showed 1:37p.m. Everything was going on fine. And I was having a swell time. I had a feeling the passengers in the bus liked me so much but now I had a much serious business to attend to. It was now time for me to disconnect myself from the group and focus all my attention on this pretty lady by my side who was subtly giving me the come-on signs as her thighs had kept on bumping into mine slightly more than occasionally for a very observant person like me not to have noticed.

I turned and faced her and smiled as I said, “Do you still remember my name?”

“Of course, is it not Vincent? Or has it changed…?” Yeah, she had a sense of humor quite alright!

“Alright. Do you mind telling me yours? Or wait a minute let me tell you what I think your name is…?” She looked at me quizzically and nodded as if to say try and let’s watch you fail.

“You look like someone whose name could be Linda or Amanda or Monica or Lisa or Ann but from the way your pretty eyes are looking at me right now, I’ll say you are… Ifeoma.”

She was taken aback and I knew I had guessed correctly. But it was not even a hard guess. I have seen the name Paul on the manifest and I guess her name will be closer to his since they were seated close to each other.

“What are you?” she finally asked me, completely amazed. I laughed due to the surprised expression on her face but I still went ahead and told her that sometimes answers do pop into my head from nowhere when I needed it.

“You mean you are psychic then?”

“Something like that!” I reaffirmed. One thing I have learnt in my dealings with women, they love mysteries. Sometimes when they ask you a question, depending on the nature of the question, your best bet is to never give them a straightforward answer.

Paint your words, give an implied or indirect answer and watch her spin off trying to read every meaning to what you have just said. It’s always fun to stand aside and watch the confusion on her face as she tries to demystify and solve the puzzle you posed to her.

As a guy, don’t be afraid to do this to a woman. They like working on mysteries. Posing a mystery to her also makes you into a mystery too, and builds up her curiosity in you while at the same time gives both of you something to hold your conversation about. Besides, women love to imagine a lot and when you tell her that you are psychic, she will run along with that imagery.

“But Ifeoma, please don’t be angry. I hope you won’t mind if I call you Ify?”

“No problems but that means you will be addressed as Vince from now on? I hope you won’t mind, sir?” This is good. She was already responding—positively.

“No problems, Ify.” I looked at her once more. She really deserved to be called Ifeoma which means ‘a good thing’ in Igbo language. She was fast relaxing around me now and I saw that as a cue I should move in.

“Are you a student?” she asked me. I hesitated and pretended as if I were considering whether to tell or not, as if to say telling her might be risky.

“I will tell you later, maybe someday,” I replied her.

“What is there to tell? It’s a simple question and the answer should either be a yes or a no. Simple!”

I laughed. “Is that what you think? That such a critical question demands a simple yes or no answer?”

“Who said so? And what makes it a critical question?! It’s like you are being shifty?” she said and I detected a tiny note of vexation in her tone.
I was glad. People only get angry from such trivial things if and only if they are interested, no matter how infinitesimal the interest level might be. Anger is passion. Just like love. Love?

Apparently, she was dying to get to know me and I wasn’t forthcoming. You can call it being challenging. I know women love that too.

to be continued

Interesting

aprilwise: I 've book my seat at d front. Waiting for more.

Guy na me sit down for front first ooooo cos dis guy is gud:p:p:p

“Okay, I will tell you whatever you want to know but you have to tell me something about yourself first because I can’t wait to get to know more about you.”

As she made to protest and remind me that she asked me first, I added, “Remember, you still don’t want to know right now what happened to Constantin Demeris…?”

She smiled at my cheap blackmail. Besides, I was giving her the opportunity to do what most women love to do anyway—talking about themselves. She put her book away and then looked me in the eyes. I became anticipative immediately.

“OK. As you already know, my name is Ifeoma. Ifeoma Lisa Monica Amanda Linda Onuora. And you don’t need to tell me the names of all your girlfriends, okay?” she quipped.

It was now my turn to gape. Why was she emulating me in trying to be funny? Or was she trying to tell me something? I sensed the rapport immediately. And I liked that because it was very exciting!

It is a very good sign that we were having such a very good rapport. I knew she had a sense of humor but when you add some wits and cleverness to that, you are my type of woman any day any time!

She continued. “I am a student of History and International Studies at the University of Nigeria Nsukka, that is, UNN.”

“Oh wow! You said UNN right? Hmm, so you are a lion, sorry, lioness huh? Well, that’s good. I used to be a student of UNN,” I echoed enchantedly, happy that we had something in common. Besides, UNN students often take pride in referring to themselves as lions and lionesses.
“So you are a student then?”

“I didn’t say so, did I?” I countered immediately. She considered it, then shrugged and continued.

“Anyway I am in my third year and I will soon be graduating, sometime next year, hopefully, baring all unforeseen circumstances like, you know… the usual lecturers’ strike or something? I think that’s all you need to know for now. Now, tell me yours,” she demanded.

For now. That’s what she said. Which means in her mind, she is already envisaging a future discussion with me or maybe something more, who knows? Well, the thing is that if you are attentive enough, you will always hear people revealing their deep inner thoughts to you without you even asking. She was also trying to be mysterious and I liked that too.

“Third year? Wow! That’s interesting because looking at you right now; I would have guessed that you are just a first year or highest, a second year student.” I said this because I knew that sometimes you need to demote a woman to get her attention.

“So how do first year students look?”

“Well, I think they look young, harmless, naïve, beautiful, fresh, intelligent, bright, full of energy, adventurous… sexy… you know…? Pure… just like virgins… you know what I am saying?” I was now promoting her with compliments and she liked it. Guys, learn how to compliment a woman. It can work wonders.

I allowed her to make the necessary connection and then revel in what I thought about her for some time, then I said, “As you already know, I am Vincent. Vincent Chukwuma Dike. I used to be a student of UNN. That’s all.”

She looked at me, surprised, and then she suddenly giggled. “You are not serious. Okay, where are you from?”

“I’m from Nigeria,” I told her immediately. She laughed. For some reason I’m yet to understand, so many women find it so funny when I respond to that type of question with that answer. Maybe it takes them by surprise, who knows?

“I know you are from Nigeria. I mean where exactly in Nigeria are you from?”

“Oh, you should have specified it,” I feigned ignorance. “Now, let me see where I am from. Umm… last time I wanted to check, they told me I am not yet up to eighteen years of age so I am not qualified to be a statesman which means I have no state—yet!”

She chuckled. Obviously she was enjoying it. And so were the other passengers in the bus. One of them at the back said, “Guy, you are from Anambra. You speak Igbo with Anambra dialect.”

I turned and looked at him and told him that he was correct but I said it in Igbo with the usual nasal Imo dialect and everybody caught the joke in there and they laughed. Ifeoma was pleading with me with her eyes to stop joking.

“Oh, please be serious for once. Where are you from? I know why I’m asking.” She was now trying to stoke up some curiosity in me but I have been there before so I said, “Why don’t you just guess?”

“You are from Anambra,” she said. I told her she was correct.

“I am from Agulu.”

She brightened up.

“So you are from Agulu? Hmmm, I have been to that town before, such a nice place. I went there with a friend during the time they were celebrating the New Yam festival. I have also gone there once to see the famous Agulu Lake. Do you know the history of the lake? And do you happen to know any Chief Emeka Nwafor?”

I told her I couldn’t exactly recall the name. In fact, I was not interested in knowing anything about the man behind the name neither was I interested in knowing anything about the Agulu Lake except that it was just a lake.

But I didn’t tell her that. I figured there was no point in exposing my ignorance or telling her that as an Enugu-born and brought up, I don’t even visit Agulu that much except during occasions like Christmas or funeral ceremonies. Anyway, I don’t see the point in admitting to her that I was like a foreigner or stranger, sort of, in my hometown.

to be continued...

Linda or Amanda or Monica or Lisa or Ann

Monsieur i see what you did here!

See Petr Cech see me. . .we dun wear seat belt since Chapter 1.Let's see where Ify takes us!

Fourcade:

Monsieur i see what you did here!

Ha Haa...

Monsieur Fourcade, vous dit quoi?

But I didn’t want her to push any further so I quickly turned the table against her and said to her, “What about you? Where are you from? Wait a minute… don’t tell me you are from Imo or Abia because everyone knows girls from there have a very high bride price.”

I knew exactly what I was doing and I saw the effect in her eyes immediately. Sometimes, like I earlier said, when you want to declare your interest to a girl, it’s always better you do it subtly and indirectly. That way, you are safe because you didn’t actually say anything and she’s safe because you didn’t actually make any form of demands on her that might kill the whole fun for everyone assuming she says no. Well, it’s all part of the rules of flirting.

For example, you don’t necessarily have to tell a woman something like you want to have a relationship with her or that you want to marry her. That would be too direct. Just hint on something like that by mentioning things connected with marriage, like mentioning bride price, like telling her she will make a good wife to her husband and a good mother to her kids, or that her husband will certainly enjoy her.

You can also pick a quality or qualities you know she already has, like her complexion for instance, and say that is exactly what you want in your ideal wife and her imaginative mind will do the rest for you, that is, assuming the girl is interested in the first place.

I saw a glint in her eyes which lasted for a brief moment that told me something nice and I smiled inwardly to myself. Oh yes, she could be mine if I play my cards well!

She smiled and said, “Me too, I’m from Anambra. Abagana, precisely. You said you were a student? I take it to mean that you are now a graduate, am I right?”

I told her she was right.

“What did you study?”

I told her I studied Civil Engineering. She expressed her amazement and told me that she would have guessed I studied something like Mass Communication. I asked her why and she said it was because most Engine guys she knew, as engineering students are usually referred to as in Nigeria, are only good in mathematics and physics and nothing else.

I smiled, and then I opened my eyes in bewilderment as I said, “Ha! Seriously… nothing else? Hmm! Not even good in bed?” She laughed and punched me playfully on my shoulders. Oh yeah! Did I mention that insinuating sex is a major part of flirting?

“Anyway I take that as a compliment,” I said. “But to me that way of thinking is way too stereotypical, you know?”

She said she knew. “So when and where did you graduate from and where did you serve, I’m also assuming you’ve served, right?” she asked me.

I told her she was asking a lot of questions at once even though I didn’t take any offense. She just smiled. Most times, when a girl, most especially a girl you are meeting for the very first time, starts taking a sudden interest in your life and asking you certain questions, you just watch it!

I told her I graduated from Unizik four years ago and I served in Maiduguri, Borno State. It was mandatory for every Nigerian graduate under the age of 31, except if they applied for exemption due to marriage or on health grounds, to serve in the National Youth Service Corps or NYSC.

During the service year, the graduate will be posted to another part of the country different from the state where they schooled and also different from their own state of origin to serve the fatherland for one year. Most corps members end up teaching during the service year. I taught Mathematics and Physics in the secondary school where I was posted to.

“Interesting! So you’ve been around the country! No wonder you seem to know so much!” She was making reference to the fact that Maiduguri was located at the far end of the North East of the country. As corps members, we often joked that serving in Maiduguri, which we nicknamed Chad, is tantamount to serving abroad.

“So can you speak Hausa?”

I told her I could speak the language sparingly. “At least, I can express myself even though I can curse very well in Hausa…”

“I know it. That’s the one most people will normally learn first.”

“And I even know a couple of naughty Hausa words too, if you know what I mean…” I rolled my eyes at her.

“Definitely! I’m not surprised at all! I know that’s the one someone like you will also learn very fast.” This brought some laughter from some people in the bus. Eavesdroppers are everywhere.

I knew she would soon be asking me what was taking me to Lagos plus what I was doing for a living because I know that is usually what they will normally ask next. I don’t know why girls are so much interested in what guys do for a living.

So I quickly added that I was going to Lagos for an interview with Julius Berger. When I said Julius Berger, I emphasized it to make it sound so powerful and interesting because Julius Berger is a well known brand in Nigeria when it comes to anything construction.

She took me by surprise when she said, “So what have you been doing since?”

What have I been doing since I graduated?

Click Here to Continue Reading...

Conductor owa oo! K'opuo! I'm here! Please fire on... where are yu Vince? Come and continue pweeze

hmmmn the story is getting more intresting.guys don't go far oo because this guy teaches like its practical.fire on plsssss........ hmmmn the story is getting more intresting.guys don't go far oo because this guy teaches like its practical.fire on plsssss........

Nice bro,u are trying..thumbs up#

Vince dats realy interesting! But ur kind of charm doesnt work on all women:p

Skybaby: Vince dats realy interesting! But ur kind of charm doesnt work on all women:p

Of course, Skybaby. It cannot work on all women! The question is: will it work on you?

And by the way, who is Vince? Who are you calling Vince?

Banned again?

2scorehigh:
And by the way, who is Vince? Who are you calling Vince?

Vinso my mannest man. . .ride on jare!