sterlingD:

Which site can one access and buy?

I'm afraid if I post anything pr*omotion, I would be banned again. So I'll have to misspell some words.

Am^azon
B^ambooks.
Sèlâr
And prints c^pies can be pûchased from Bòòkpeddlers Lagos.

I hope they don't ban me again

Rosemary33:
I'm afraid if I post anything pr*omotion, I would be banned again. So I'll have to misspell some words.

Am^azon
B^ambooks.
Sèlâr
And prints c^pies can be pûchased from Bòòkpeddlers Lagos.

I hope they don't ban me again

You have printed copies too,

woah!!!

How can i get a printed copy in my location?

do4luv14:



You have printed copies too,

woah!!!

Yes 😁😁

IkeIgboNiile:
How can i get a printed copy in my location?

Please, where is your location. The bo*oks can be delivered anywhere in Nigeria.

Rosemary33
Please, where is your location. The bo*oks can be delivered anywhere in Nigeria.

042. Enugu

Ten
Ifenkili


My heart was constricting with pain right now. And please, this iron inside brassieres, was it meant to hold our babies up or kill us slowly by puncturing our lungs? Someone should answer me fast before I do something irrational.

Anyway, back to why pain and anger were competing for prominence inside me. I told you about today’s date with Preye, right? The one I agreed to fund as an atonement for my sin of sleeping off while he was speaking to me over the phone. See ehn, I had planned to go all out for this date. In my mind, I had matched my clothes and accessories, picked out the shoes to go with them. But my brethren my sistren, that date no work.

Before you shine your teeth in laughter, let it be known by all and sundry that Oghene was to be held responsible. Tell me why I had everything planned out only for him to call and tell me, “Don’t go.”

I was shocked. Then it became funny, and finally I was angry. Make una follow me see case o, somebody I hadn’t considered, just because he gave me a touch that made my head spin for a dizzying second, he now thought he could control my life. What did he mean by ‘don’t go,’?

Ah, chai. Anyway sha, he didn’t know me.
Or rather, I didn’t know this lady called frustration.

The first thing that went wrong was my makeup. I had sat on my dressing table making up for twenty minutes straight, but when I neared the mirror to appraise my handiwork, I realized that my face wasn’t in focus—whatever that meant. But una know me na, I no dey hear word, I washed off that one and started all over. Another twenty minutes straight. When I checked, what was looking back at me was a clown instead of fine geh.

Hmm. I sat down to redo it again. See ehn, those that had known for a long while knew that no matter how many times things turn bad, I would try it again. I no dey hear word.
I was on my way back from the bathroom where I went to wash off the second face makeup trial when my brother called to tell me that he was on his way to my house to pick up the laptop he left behind the last time he visited. I was almost getting agitated when I remembered I didn’t need to stay back and wait for him to arrive. I could leave my keys with my neighbor and tell my brother to pick it up from her.

With that wahala settled, I proceeded to go another round with the makeup. This time it was perfect, I was looking on fleek, everything was puuurrrr—on periodt! I ate with no crumbs left.

But lady frustration wasn’t done with me. My car refused to kick start. No matter how many times I tried, no matter what my kind neighbors did; tightening and loosening wires, screwing and unscrewing nuts and bolts to bring down my battery so they could try starting the car with theirs, the old lady refused to bulge.

In the end, I decided to take a taxi. I would have ordered a ride, but I was worried it might arrive late. I was already a little behind time.
My frustration didn’t end there. As I stepped outside the gate, walked the little distance from my house to the road, it started raining. Hahaaaaa! I laughed. It was like heaven and earth were against me today. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t know how stubborn I could be. They didn’t know that when I’d made up my mind about something, even if an earthquake struck the road and broke it into two, I must find a plank and cross it.

I located a shelter and waited. Soon, a taxi came by and I entered, feeling like a winner as the taxi continued along the Eliozu/Rukpokwu road, thinking that the storm was over.

My brethren my sistren, it was the beginning of shege. Mmalite ihe mgbu. The taxi parked up at Airforce flyover. At that point, the level of anger in my heart could roast a corn . I was fuming inside, swearing for Oghene and whatever spirit he had sent my way.

And to show them that they had not won yet, I ordered a bolt ride there. In less than fifteen minutes, the ride arrived. Pheww...I heaved a sigh of relief; but lady frustration wasn’t done yet. The bold driver turned out to be the most aggressive human being I’d ever met. The man was fighting me as if I was the rat that ate his hairlines. When we got to BenJack, the stupid man killed his engine and insisted I transfer his money that he wasn’t going any further. I pleaded, threatened, cried. This wicked man threw me out of his car even without finally collecting his money and drove away. I had to run into the communication center to avoid being totally soaked by the downpour.

Oghene and his village people, una weldone o.

The rain must really have a score to settle with me because what was this mockery? It would reduce to a drizzle, only to pick up again when I was about to step out to track down a little distance to where I would get another taxi to the Mimi Bar. Hei, ohhhh God, it was already 7 p.m., Preye must be angry by now. He hated being kept waiting.

Shuffling through my bag, I brought out my phone and checked for his missed call or an SMS. Nothing.

Yap. He was. Definitely angry.

I put back my phone inside my bag, got a tissue paper out and dapped my face with it, hoping that the rain had not ruined my makeup. Oh, that was a hope a little too late because multiple colors came off with the tissue paper. I have to clean the whole thing.

Again, Oghene, you did this one o.

I must have stayed for quite a while in front of that center when a Toyota Sianna slowly drove past, then reversed and stopped.

I only had to glance at the driver who stepped down and was hurrying towards the store like any more drop of that rain on his skin would turn him into a wet bread, before I returned my eyes on the screen my phone where I was typing an apology message to Preye and asking him to wait a little while for me, or better still come and pick me up.

“Ifenkili?”

Oghene...Oghene?

My eyes caught his feet first. Clean, slipped into a rich looking pair of leather slippers. His legs...why was he in a pair of blue shorts instead of the usual trousers? My goodness, his legs were so sexy that for a moment, my stupid head imagined me running my fingers on them. Then his yellow Tee shirt, I’d seen it on him before...once or twice. He had an earpiece hanging across his neck.

“Ife watin you dey do here?”

Principality and power, I said in my mind, reminding myself that he was the architect of my frustration. He should be looking like a gloating wizard and not like the next best thing after Genesis freshly baked banana bread. I should hate him. But here I was wondering when he went home to freshen up and why was he out here...driving a Sienna I didn’t know he owed. Where was he headed to...a date with a girl? I never thought of him having a girlfriend. Did he have one?

Okay, I hated him right now because this grin on his face made him look so cute. And I heard from somewhere that the cuter the boy the mushier a lady’s brain.

God, was my brain getting spooned? It was disgusting, noticing this cuteness and slightly having this stupid pain gripping my chest. Was that envy? Jesus, I should be shouting his head off not thinking about the girl he had plans with. I couldn’t even stop. He still wasn’t perfect, still looking soft and fragile, like a material that could disintegrate when wrongly touched. But he gave the best impression of it I’ve ever seen.

“How did your date go?” he asked, wiping drops of rain from his face with the back of his hand. “Are you guys already done with it?”

“No.” And all thanks to you. “I am caught up in the rain. My car is bad, so...” I shrugged, returning my attention to my phone that just beeped. It wasn’t Preye replying to my message, but my brother telling me he would be waiting until I got home because he wanted to discuss our mother’s upkeep with me. It was his turn to send her something, but he had run out of money.

Chai, God. What kind of life was this biko nu? The last time I checked, my main motivation for wanting to be an adult was so I could eat more than one piece of meat and go to bed whenever I wanted. What was all this unplanned responsibility nonsense for goodness' sake?

“Ife, are you okay?” Oghene asked.

“Mm-hm.” I nodded. But I wasn’t anywhere near okay. Everything about tonight was getting me frustrated; the rain, the taxi, the bolt driver, my brother. Oghene. Seriously, I couldn’t even think when he looked at me like that. And there was this peace, a kind of calmness he was exuding was also getting me at edge. It was mocking me, this calmness. Yet I liked it, I wanted to keep feeling it.

What was even wrong with me?

“Preye must think that I stood him up,” I murmured, feeling the closeness of tears, and desiring to fly into someone’s arms to drown my worries in his embrace. I want him to say something to me. Just...anything.

“Where is the venue?”
“Ehn?”

“The venue for your date, where is it?”

“Eh...the Mimi Bar.”

He was silent again. “Is, is your man...waiting for you there?”

I didn’t answer immediately because...I suddenly became uncomfortable that he should ask that.

“I can drive you down there if he is waiting.”

He must think I doubted him. Of course I did. I knew he was nice to a fault, even to the detriment of his sanity but, this? Offering to drive me to my date with another man when I knew he had something for me?

“It’s not far,” he added. “And since I am here with Oga Emeka’s Sianna—”

Oh, the van. It wasn’t his. “Okay, I said. Thank you so much.”

He offered me his hand. I stared at it, then at him and back at the outstretched hand before placing mine on it, stifling a gasped when our skin touched and looking into his eyes in a kind of shocked wonder. His hand was smooth and warm, a few degrees warmer than it should be, and that heat sank into me, but it was not his heat that made sent a gasp rolling

...
He offered me his hand. I stared at it, then at him, and back at the outstretched hand before placing mine on it, stifling a gasp when our skin touched and looking into his eyes in a kind of shocked wonder. His hand was smooth and warm, a few degrees warmer than it should be, and that heat sank into me, but it was not his heat that made sent a gasp rolling up my throat but the storm resided within his skin that went raging through my veins the moment our hands met, leaving my skin tingling and my heart picking up pace.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said.

I nodded and allowed him to pull me to my feet and lead me to the vehicle, ignoring this senseless thing going on inside me. The inside of the Sienna was warm and smelt like...cheese balls.

He’d grabbed an already opened pack from the back seat, popped a few balls into his mouth, crushed them, and nodded.

“Care for one?” he asked, giving me that shy, unsure look. “I have a few more packs.”

“Cheese balls? No.” I couldn’t remember the last time I ate that snack. That was because it was meant for kids. Like Caparison and Bobo. What kind of adult eats Cheese balls with childish excitement?

Oghene Kind of Adult of course.

“Okay,” he said, turning the ignition. “You dey miss o.”

We didn’t speak as he drove. When he slowed in front of the bar, I thanked him, got down, and hurried towards the entrance without looking back.

The place was swimming with people. Men watching the premier league match. Couples, chatting over bottles of beer, plates of Suya, or barbecued fish. I scanned faces and checked tables, but there was no sign of Preye.

Of course, he must have gotten tired of waiting and had angrily left. To be double sure, I described him to a few waiters, asking if they’d seen him there that evening. But none admitted to noticing someone with that description.

“Why don’t you give him a call?” they all suggested.

I did. His number wasn’t connected.

He was angry.

Ifenkili, you’ve made your prospective husband angry. What was I going to do now?
I stood there for a while, then left.

To my surprise, the Sienna hadn’t moved from where I left it. This meant one thing; Oghene was waiting. But why? Did he know? No. There was no way.

I walked to the car, knocked at the window and he wound down.

“W-why are you still here?” I asked.

He didn’t reply immediately like he was trying to choose his words.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“About what?” he asked, a genuine confusion coloring his face.

He didn’t know. Maybe he was only here waiting for someone. “Preye is gone,” I said, observing his face for any hint, any reaction. There was none.

“Didn’t he call to inform you about him leaving?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Then you...call am nau.”

“His number is not connecting.”

We didn’t say any more things to each other. Then he spoke first.

“You wan enter moto?” he asked, unlocking the van.

Nodding, I pulled on the handle and sat down inside, leaned back, sighed, and shut my eyes. By the time I opened my eyes, there was a pack of cheese balls thrust to my face.

“Sure say you no wan chop this thing?”

I looked at him for a while, trying so hard to feel angry...at him. But all I could summon was laughter that bubbled out of my throat and came like a single crack before exploding into several sputters.

He liked me. Me laughing. He liked it so much that his face shone with delight. And as I snatched the pack from him and tore it open, a few balls scattering on the floor, he let out his own laughter.

IkeIgboNiile:
Rosemary33
Please, where is your location. The bo*oks can be delivered anywhere in Nigeria.

042. Enugu

okay. Bookpedllers can deliver to your door step when you order from them. Let me know the one you are interested in. Contact them on IG. I would have also drop there number here, but I dont know if it will warrant a ban

If that will be rigorous, then you can go through me. I can send you your choiced copy (s) directly.

Rosemary33
okay. Bookpedllers can deliver to your door step when you order from them. Let me know the one you are interested in. Contact them on IG. I would have also drop there number here, but I dont know if it will warrant a ban

If that will be rigorous, then you can go through me. I can send you your choiced copy (s) directly.

Ok. I'll contact them on IG.

Rosemary hope you are good?......hungry for updates o

Bukenke86:
Rosemary hope you are good?......hungry for updates o

And dem don suspend strike ooo

Abi o


And dem don suspend strike ooo [/quote]

thank you very much for this wonderful update. Na you sure pass

Bukenke86:
Abi o


And dem don suspend strike ooo

Abeg Rosemary33 come and feed us. Please we have been waiting patiently.

Eleven
Ifenkili

You could talk with someone for years, every day, and still, it won't mean as much as what you could have when you sit by the side of one fascinating guy, not saying a word, yet feeling that person with your heart like you’d known him for forever. In this comforting silence, while I munched these cheese balls, I now realized what it meant when someone said that connections were made with the heart, not the tongue.

Oghene hadn’t said a word after he let out that laughter that was still ringing like a song that could be replayed over and over without it getting stale. The sound of it rounding off the missing notes in my soul. Missing notes? I didn’t know about those until now. I gave him a sidelong glance and shut my eyes again, dipping my fingers inside the snack pack and caught nothing. I crumbled the empty pack in my palm and was going to shove throw it out from the window, but he grabbed my hand and took it from me.

“I go throway am when I reach house,” he said, handing me another pack which was already opened.

He was relaxing on his seat again like he never leaned so close to me and made me smell his scent. It was cheap—the scent. Like a generic body spray or those perfumes we used in secondary school. But there was something nostalgic about it that made me smile mentally. It was like there was magic in it, like there was magic in this moment, exuding from him, a presence within him that dwelt in joy that had no cause.

“Watin you wan do now?” he asked.

There was something beautiful about his tone. Very lazy and dreamlike. quite different from when it was sharp and busy.

“I really don’t know,” I sighed. And I also didn’t want to keep him from wherever he was set out for before he saw me. “I can get down and find my way home. I don’t want to keep you from where you wanted to go to.”

“I was only going to drop this van at Oga Emeka’s house. But I can call to tell him that I’ll be bringing it tomorrow instead.”

“No. Please, don’t do that.”

“Don’t worry. Oga Emeka na my man.”

“But—”

He had already dialed the man and was speaking to him. Feeling terrible that he would defer his plans because of me, I sank into the chair and waited for him to finish.

“Really, Bro Oghene. You shouldn’t have done that.” I said when he was done with the call, licking the cheese off my fingers. “This is so delicious. I guess, like you said, I’d been missing a lot.”

“Before?” he gave a satisfying laughter. “Na una dey think say some snacks should be left for kids. Me? I am a kid when it comes to Cheese balls and chocolate o, even Bobo juice sef...”

I almost choked with laughter and the soft crunchy balls melting in my mouth, “Wh-what? You eat chocolates?”

“Ehen nau?”

Maybe that was the icebreaker we were waiting for; the jokes and laughter. Soon, he was sharing stories with me. It was cute, amazing, even unbelievable stories as well as embarrassing ones like the day he and his team were watching Spiderman in the Church’s tech room, unaware that it was showing on the main church’s monitors. And the day he and his friends decided to cook one full carton of Indomie noodles, shared it between the four of them, betting fifty thousand naira each, which the first person to finish his would go home with.

“As I turn my own over in a bowl, lo and behold, Indomie full everywhere,” he said, maintaining a straight face while I was dying of laughter. “I look my friends, them look me and we all silently agreed on one thing; ‘kasala don burst.’ I was finished because they all knew I wasn’t a heavy eater.’”

The long and short of the story was that he lost the bet and never tried that joke again. Then there was also another story of him going with the same friends to celebrate the birthday of one of them, and being approached by a middle-aged Italian man who first complimented his corporate fit before asking if he’d love to come over to his table and eventually follow him home, pointing at his Porsche.

At first, he was so grateful to the person who must have recommended his services to the white man even though he was going to politely explain to the man that he wasn’t a Porsche mechanic. Then it dawned on him what the white guy was asking for. To confirm his suspicion, he had asked the guy if he was trying to ask him for a gay hookup service and the guy had winked.

Imagining Oghene as a gay hookup service provider was so hilarious that I couldn’t control my laughter. I was laughing and snorting while he feigned shock that I wasn’t taking his ordeal seriously.

“Oghene bikor,” he shouted. “Oyibo man wan to turn a gentle guy like me into a karashika. A bad bitch. I understand that people have their preferences when it comes to sex but for some of us, till God calls us home - we'll always prefer soft breasts and chingumy derriere. Our Bethlehem will forever be between the heavenly paths of a woman's legs.”

Chingumy what? Jesus, this guy was hopelessly hilarious and fun and shockingly free with words. A side of him I never knew existed. Was he always like this or did he only allow himself to loosen up because he was comfortable and relaxed around me? How was it even possible that he would have such words like soft breasts and women’s legs coming out of his mouth! Or was it not the sanctimonious Bro Oghene again?

He also told me of the first and last time he stepped into the Mimi bar. He had traced a man to the place and for a fight. There was something unsettling about that last story. The fight. It made him sober and a little uncomfortable.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“The man?”

“Yes.”

It took him a while to respond, but when he did, his voice was low and distant, as if he was speaking from a different time than the moment we were. And at that moment I wanted to know more. This man, what happened between them?

“So, now that your date is not here, what do you want to do with the rest of the night?” He quickly changed the topic. And though I would have wanted him to let me into his deepest discomfort, I didn’t press further.

“I don’t know,” I said, looking down at my phone.
Preye’s message came some seconds after I settled inside the van. He never showed up. He never waited for me at the bar. But he was sorry. There was an urgent issue he needed to take care of. It was such an emergency that he didn’t remember to call and cancel the date. But he would make it up to me.

Understanding Preye’s excuse shouldn't be hard for me. After all, I’d once been an understanding girlfriend so it should come naturally. But this...right now, I felt a little unvalued and worthless.

“I can take you home,” Oghene cut into my thought.

I didn’t want to go home. Not yet. Not until I was sure my brother was gone as I wasn’t in the mood to hear his story of how business hadn’t been looking up while the truth was that he had lost all his business money in betting. I knew he’d gone back to his betting addiction even though he tried to hide it. And from what I gathered, his had gotten worse. That was the reason I no longer allowed him to drive my car. I feared he would gamble it away since he had gotten so bad that he now sold possessions to fund this monster. My informant told me he had sublet part of his electronic shop and had played bet with the money he realized.

“Or we can go chop fish at Boom Town, GRA.”

“You go to Boom... come, bro Oghene of the Lord, how did you get to know about that place?” I thought I knew this guy.

He was laughing shyly.

“I’m serious, guy. Watin you find go Boom Town?”

“I’ve got friends that enjoy dragging me to places like that nau, so what else can the righteous do but sit there, sipping my smoothie and observing them do their thing with their women and shepe.”

“So... you want me to believe it’s not a woman you’ve been taking there, ehn?” Why was I having this feeling again? Jealousy. Of the woman or women, he’d taken to this place when I was right here beside him?

Beside him? How...since when...really Ife, what is wrong with you?

His answer took a long time. “Ife. I have no woman.”
“Mm,” I swallowed the taste of relief in my throat. Not that it would bother me if he had a lover he went on dates with. He was a man, wasn’t he? Okay. Yes. It would bother me. I was nothing to him, but it would still bother me. But I wouldn’t let him know, for jealousy disliked the world to know it. “Smoothie. You don’t drink alcohol?”

He shook his head. “Only water. Softs. Wines, non-alcoholics. Smoothie. Boomtown makes great smoothies.”

“Hmm. No women. No alcohol. And I doubt if you can dance. Really, you must be such fun at parties.” That was sarcasm, and he got the drift and laughed.

“But I’m not that bad. If I am, my guys will not be dragging me along with them.”

“Hm. Okay o. Oya make we go chop fish and bore each other.”

Cocking his head backward, he observed me with humor on his face. “E go shock you.”

The ride to GRA wasn’t a long one, and as the name implied, the place was booming with music when we got there. He wasn’t lying when he said the fish and smoothie was good. But there was something else, or rather someone, that was so good that I couldn’t resist the urge to get up and get loose; the DJ. Only on a few occasions had I ever been comfortable dancing publicly. Even in church, I had always been in ‘team clap your hands and dance in your head.’ But here I was, moving so recklessly on the dance floor where boobs and ass ran free.

And Oghene... He was looking at me to pieces … I knew I’d been looked at, glimpsed and corner-of-the-eyed before. But never like this. Our gazes locked and a slow grin appeared on his face. He didn’t look like he was having any discomfort sitting and watching me while dozens of women wiggle

...their bodies like bets on hooks. That was because his eyes were on me. Just me. And I didn’t know why I suddenly felt like flirting, seducing him. The more he watched me, the more I wanted him to watch me. Goodness, I couldn’t think. Okay. Not true. I could think, but I was thinking things I really had no business thinking of. I was thinking about those full, slightly curved lips and how they must feel in places...other than my forehead or cheek. I was thinking about his hands and how strong they were, the oddly pleasant calluses on his palms, and how they would fit perfectly around my waist while I dance with him. I was thinking about...about a lot of things—things that didn’t feel so wrong since he was actually single. Yet I knew they were wrong because he wasn’t that kind of guy. And I also was a respecter of God’s commandment. That one about ‘do not fornicate,’ that Jesus amplified in the New Testament with the ‘If you look at someone lustfully, you have already committed fornication in your heart,’ teaching.

Also. I had a man now. I must remind myself of this over and over again so I wouldn’t be stupid. I was about to break our eye contact when he narrowed his gaze and ran his tongue over his upper lips. So innocently. Yet, heat exploded across my cheeks and in my lady beat, and I couldn’t look away.

He kept staring.

I kept staring.

Soon, we were two people staring at each other knowingly, communicating mentally amidst an ocean of exhilarated, mindless crowd.

Slowly, I danced towards him while he watched every step I took to the table. He looked down when I stopped before him.

And I said, “You want to come and dance?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I no wan embarrass you. I dey dance in Fast-forward.”

That was the funniest way I’d had anyone describe their dance moves. I didn’t believe him though. I felt that he could dance. He was actually being careful. He either didn’t want to mix with the crowd because of his reservations or he was afraid of what rubbing bodies with me could do to him.

It was some minutes to eleven o’clock when we left the club, and he pulled over in front of my house. I ranted all through the ride home. I was excited about tonight; the club, the music, the dance, and him. I was so elated that it was him I was with. Him sitting here me with a hint of desire in his eye. I saw it, the desire. And it pleased me in the most wrong ways.

I had a man, I reminded myself again. Preye. He should have been here, it should have been him giving me these sidelong glances with eyes coated with subtle hunger while laughing at my rants.

But he wasn’t here. He’d only sent me a miserable text like I meant nothing...this date meant nothing.

“Bro Oghene?” I spoke after we allowed some moments of silent, “Have you ever felt like you are doing too much—”

He was looking at me with confusion creasing his forehead.

“I mean...like you are giving more than you are receiving and... and... it’s rubbing off as being desperate.”

He didn’t respond immediately. It was like he was weighing my question or rather, weighing his answer.

“If you are trying to ask me if I’d loved someone who seems not to be returning the energy, then the answer is yes.”

Having him reconstruct my question that way filled me with a lot of emotions. First, there was guilt. He was talking about me and how I’d treated him all the while, knowing what he wanted, knowing I would not be able to give him that because I wanted much more that the man he was offering. Then there was jealousy. What if he wasn’t talking about me but some other woman whom he had transferred what he once felt for me to?
I didn’t think he had found someone. The way he looked at me in that club while I was dancing, the way he was looking at me now. He even said it himself, he had no woman. But what if he had lied about not having a woman, and the look I saw on his face in that club might just be his male hormones reacting to my seduction. What if there was really someone new?

Suddenly, I was jealous of every minute he might have spent chatting with this new woman on phone like he had doing with me, of every concerned expression he sent her way, of every disappointment he felt when she didn’t return his interest, of every glance, every desire, and every thought. I want to rip him to pieces and purge her from his mind and from his heart because he was a great guy who didn’t deserve to be treated so disregardful. But I couldn’t. Because I also didn’t deserve him as I hadn’t treated him any better.

“Does it...this feeling, does it make you feel like a fool?”
I was asking for myself. I was also asking for him. I want to know how he ached, and if he dared to dream of one day getting his heart's longing.

“Can I... I fit ask you one thing?” he said rather.

“Yes,” I said.

“The guy you were supposed to meet, is he the same one I saw you with in that wedding and at Shukudi’s house party?”

Who was Shukudi? What part—Oh, the party! “Yes,” I said a little uncomfortably. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. Uncomfortable. But here I was, hopefully promised to another man, while battling to remain sane before another because just a few moments spent with him had disintegrated me so much that my brain had dug up the fact that it’d been long I felt the arms of a man around me.

“Are you...is he your—”

“He asked for my hand in a serious relationship, and I said yes.” The words rushed out of my mouth even as my heart kept repeating the last three words; ‘I said yes...I said yes...I said yes...’ “Why do you want to know anyway?”

He didn’t speak for a while, rather, he leaned back, shut his eyes and tightened his lips, his palm grabbing the break handle like he was fighting something, an emotion. Then he leaned forward and took my hand, pressing it between his. The touch was like white fire through my veins. The softness of his palm, and the scent of his perfume now mixed with the smell of the night’s excitement became an allure I had no power to resist.

My eyes made the mistake of going to his lips. His lips...Oh God, if only I could be so oblivious again, to just see the beauty without desiring to taste it.

“I like you, Ifenkili. I want you to be mine.” His voice was thick with plea, and lust, and...and anger, frustration?

He was shaking. His voice. His hands. It must be torturous saying those words to me in person even though he’d written them in that WhatsApp he sent to me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help him. I wouldn’t be able to ease his ache because I had made a choice already. Preye might not be present here, right now, but he seemed more ready to make me a wife than Oghene was.

Yet, I didn’t stop Oghene from laying his trembling hand on my chest. Or voice a displeasure when he pushed against that chest, backing me into the chair rest. I just stared and stared at him, curious and shocked and thirsty.

Kiss me, my mind whispered to him. Please, kiss me just for tonight and that would be all. I didn’t know where the thought came from. I hadn’t taken any booze in the club so I wasn’t under any influence. But I was crazily aware of how suddenly my body was yearning for this shy, plain, simple guy who, for the first time since I knew him, was making me sweetly uneasy.

He watched me struggle to keep my eyes on him for a while, then he said, following the flick of my tongue over my bottom lip, “Ifenkili. I look at you and feel like I'm dying. Like I can't breathe. I'm thinking that I want you so badly I can't concentrate half the time I'm around you, and this night didn’t help me. I wanted to pretend that I didn’t feel heated jealousy over you coming out to meet another man.”

My heart stumbled a beat. I didn't know what to do with my arms, my legs, my face. I gulped spittle that had clogged my throat, steeling my spine as I said, “Bro Oghene—this is...I think you are...You and I...”

“I can't stop thinking about you,” he interrupted. “It's been that way for a long while. Even when you have refused to realize how much my heart wants you—”

He stopped talking, his thumb stroking my thumping heart. I closed my eyes at the whisper of a touch, at the hunger that ravaged me in its wake, that might also be ravaging him.

“Ife, I wan make you be my girl,” he said, his face solemn. “Make you leave this guy. Him no fit do you well. I know I may not be the man you have always wanted but I’ll make you bless the day you said yes to me.”

I let out a strangled whimper. “I can't. I can't. Oghene. I have agreed for another man, and I think his is the future for me.” Something cracked inside him immediately those words left my lips even though his eyes did not leave mine; nor did mine leave him. However, there was no warmth on his face. Only that concern, and pity, that blend of hurt and understanding and refused desire.

He pulled his hands away from me, leaned back on his chair and I suddenly knew that he was gone. The man who had all these times pleaded, desperate to do good for my approval, to be accepted by me. That man had gone. Would he ever find his way back to...at least any other woman? God, I felt like a piece of trash this moment, but I think it was for the best. This was for the best.

I liked him

After tonight, I felt strongly attracted to him.

But was he going to be That man for me?

“Kiss me,” I blurted.

“What?”

My heart had picked up pace again, and it was now my turn to tremble. I didn’t know why I suddenly wanted this. Perhaps, I wanted a parting gift. One that would remain in my vein for a very long time.

“K-kiss me. Here, now. Just this night. Please.”

He sighed heavily. Then, “You should go now, Ife,” he murmured.

His rejection hurt more than Preye’s text. So badly. So terribly. I hated him immediately. And hated me too for setting myself up like this. Unlocking my side of the door, I opened the van and raced to the house, into my flat. And as I flopped back on my sofa and stared at the wall that had a huge, framed picture of me, I finally confronted the awful, alarming, dreadful, and entirely horrifying possibility that I had been rejecting all day. Though I could hardly accept it, I could no longer deny it. I was pretty sure I wanted Bro Oghene as badly as he wanted me. Even much more.

Please I just realized that the scene was unevenly cut, so a part of the middle was left out. The part she was dancing and was lusting after him. I have edited it now. So if you have read before, you'll want to go and re-read the second part again

Thank you Rosemary33 for this wonderful episode. I really enjoyed reading it. I'm glad Oghene didn't kiss her.

Rosemary33:
Please I just realized that the scene was unevenly cut, so a part of the middle was left out. The part she was dancing and was lusting after him. I have edited it now. So if you have read before, you'll want to go and re-read the second part again

You're doing well.

Nice one Rosemary

Rosemary33:
Please I just realized that the scene was unevenly cut, so a part of the middle was left out. The part she was dancing and was lusting after him. I have edited it now. So if you have read before, you'll want to go and re-read the second part again

Thank you Auntie Rosy for this wonderful chapter. Them don serve bro oghene breakfast for night. The sweetest part of it be say Ife also collected small too.😁😁😁😁

Thanks ma'am for this wonderful piece. Its always a pleasure looking forward to your works. Thanks for this update and do try to update your blog so we can bring traffic to there.

Thanks ma 4 the update

hotswagg12:
Thanks ma'am for this wonderful piece. Its always a pleasure looking forward to your works. Thanks for this update and do try to update your blog so we can bring traffic to there.

I will, still working on a better we site interface

Twelve
Oghene


“Kiss me,” she said as if she hadn't hit me right in the gut, first with her rejection, then with her demand that reduced me to a mere fantasy. The nerve endings of my penis were the first to weigh in on the request. My mouth went dry, my brain became totally messed up. All the restraint I had been holding in place since that evening, a restraint she stretched almost to an unbearable point when she made me watch her sway her body in the most alluring and graceful way at that club, came crumbling like loosely fitted wheel bolts.
Right in that van, with my hand on her chest, my thumb stroking her skin which felt so good, she felt too good, I had wanted to lean into her, to slip my hand on her back and draw her to me until her chest was pressed against mine.

It would make me feel better to speak of the hurt in my heart against her throat and end it with a stroke of my tongue on that soft skin—a lick that would make her rethink— and slowly trace a blissful line up her neck, to her ear. Then my teeth would nip her earlobe like the teeth of the men in those Layifa’s novels always did to their women. She would gasp like those women. I’d love her to gasp because the bite would be a little painful, as I would want to hold her and punish her, too.

But I noticed that coming so close to giving her what she asked for and yet denying her was already torture.

She wanted me to want her, even if I was so scared of my own wanting that I knew shock her, just like me freely speaking of a woman’s breast and the heaven between a woman’s thighs and taking her to a club did. While I wasn’t a pro when it came to intimacy, romance, and gbenshing, I no be virgin. My journey to sexual discovery started when I was fourteen. It was Eserovwe’s mama who did it to me when I came to look for her son. She had asked me to help her draw water from the well in their backyard since Ovwe wasn’t around. Then she took me inside, made me watch her have her bath, stripped me, and put her mouth on my penis, sucking it until I cum.

I didn’t recover from that experience many years later. I was a good boy, so having that happen to me left me disgusted filthy, and ashamed. I hated myself for not putting up a tougher fight even though she seemed bigger and stronger. I hated her husband for defending her and calling me a liar and a rapist when I finally told maleh and paleh who went over to their house with me to confront them. I hated Papa Ovwe even more for threatening to arrest my family. Even him wife wein molest me no talk anything. It was because of them that made paleh relocated us to a new town where it was difficult to make friends because I never go over that incident. Each time I remembered it—which was, then, almost every time, I felt filthy afresh.

It was Ezioma, Shukudi’s wife, then his girlfriend, who noticed my struggle. She'd always come around those days we were camping in that uncompleted building to bring food for us. At first, I didn’t want to talk to her about it, but soon, she got me opening up. Her constant visits and the time she spent talking to me helped a lot. She made Shukudi start dragging me with him to his local gym center. According to her, ‘It would help fasten my healing and rebuild self-esteem.’

It was she who took me to church after I’d stayed away for a while. Their’s wasn’t a very big church, but I found comfort and purpose, and I thought I also found rest until years later, when Papa Ovwe came to service one Nisan Morano at our mechanic workshop. My body had gone into an erratic mode and instantly, I remembered everything; his wife...what she did to me, how she kept quiet while her husband accused me of raping her, and how he went about telling everyone—my school principal, our pastor, every parent in the area—that I jazz into the zanga when him wife dey baff and raped her.

Shukudi wanted me to let my anger go. He suggested that I leave the workshop, but I couldn’t. I don already cut chain rush the man, landing punches on him. Kicking and slapping him all over while screaming out my pain. I would have smashed his head with the two-by-two spanner I grabbed from the ground had someone not held my hand and another pulled me away.

It was when I got home that I cried.

That was my release.

That was my rest.

That was the fight I told Ife about when we spoke in the van when I thought there was some possibility of her considering me as a man she could go out with. I’d had sex a few times after that incident. Temptations that I couldn’t overcome. That was what I called those moments of weakness that I regretted. But I had become stronger in my walking with the Lord. I could now say I had gotten to a point where I could now flee from all fleshly enticements. All but one. Ifenkili. I wanted her. Tonight, on that dance floor, inside the Sienna, in my arms.

It didn’t matter that I’d not been with a woman in years and that the law of the Lord was ringing loudly in my head, “Thou shalt not fornicate...flee from every appearance of evil...” I’d wanted my fingers that had reached out and was lightly tracing her exposed collarbone, to set every inch of her skin on fire. It did.
She could barely manage to keep breathing, so my hand moved to the hollow of her throat, careful and caressing. I had touched her before—earlier today, inside the banking hall, and in front of that communication center where I took her hand and led her into the Sienna, but she'd acted as if those times were simply normal. She hadn’t shown any hunger, longing, or curiosity.

Or maybe I was the one who was curious. I knew I shouldn't be. But hadn't I wondered what it would be like to be wanted with the intensity that she seemed to want me a few minutes ago?

“Kiss me. Here, now. Just this night. Please.”

Her voice was thick with something like sleep. When I looked up, her eyes were a pool of lust and I instantly felt like I was tumbling into them...

...I should have just done it. I should have given her what she wanted.

“I mean... na just this once,” I said softly while pulling the van into my compound. “In the morning, I would forget it. E go hard but watin Waffi boy go do? I would pretend that I didn't care about her and the man she chose over me. But for tonight, I should have pretended she was mine.”

I unlocked my door and walked in. The place still smelt like jollof spaghetti, the chewings way I been arrange before I hurriedly comot to deliver Oga Emeka’s Sienna. Now, I didn’t feel like chowing anything. The fish I shared with Ife still sat heavy in my stomach. That and the rejection she served me later.

I was making a note out of recorded BUS 317 Layifa sent to me some minutes after I had my bath, while the soft sound of P-Square's Onyinye played from my Bluetooth that was connected to my other phone when fragments of tonight flickered into my head. It was the music, its lyrics, and the images it invoked in my head. Images of Ifenkili moving her body for my watching pleasure, she inside the van with me, my hand on her chest, my thumb stroking... her scent filling my senses, her rejection. My throat tightened with renewed anger at the thought of that rejection.

It wasn’t the feeling of not being enough for her that drove a dagger into my heart, but the knowledge of who she had chosen to love instead. A man who stood her up only to send a miserable apology text after a very long hour. Apart from that, there was something not just right about him. I saw it the first time I set my eyes on him, I did again when he walked into Shukudi’s party.

She no dey feel that guy bad vibe, abi eyes no dey her head?

‘She be fool,’ Oghene meh! I had never been so infuriated by a woman in my life. And never more aroused. I didn’t know whether to scream some sense into her head or kiss her. The urge to do the latter was so strong because all those times I took her hands in mine and my body accidentally brushed against hers while we enjoyed the night, had scorched my skin and lit a fire within me so intense that I thought I would burn. It was worse when I placed my hand on her chest—an act I didn’t plan and almost wanted to correct, and she froze, her gaze locked with mine. That was when I realized how much she wanted me, and how, in that moment, she feared that it might be hard for her to tamp down the desire burning inside her for me. When did that happen? That desire burning in her. It had given me hope and boldness. That was why I asked her to be mine.

But she’d refused. And had asked that I kiss her instead.

I scowled, remembering how I had suddenly thought of doing a lot more than kissing her. Tonight, she made me think of lovemaking. The kind that would be interrupted by conversation, and then the conversation by lovemaking. Maybe I just wanted strong intimacy, the tangible kind. The let’s-get-to-know-each-other-from-the-inside-out kind. The make-we-warm-eba-chop-at-one-in-the-morning-so-we-can-gbensh-some more-kind.

Maybe I wanted a union.

A forever.

It wasn't until she'd entered her compound and closed the gate after her that I released the breath I'd been holding all the while I waited for her to leave. I had refused her even though I wanted her so much. Not because the desire to do things to her and with her wasn’t overwhelming, but because I was afraid that if I acted on them, they would undo me. I could lose myself to her and would not be able to forget her.

I doubted that I would be able to forget someone I’d been in love with longer than I realized, but I had to live. So, I must erase every memory of her from my thoughts and purge her from my blood.

Ah, Oghene meh. This was impossible. Wishful thinking, not what was or could ever be.

The remedy to it might come in the form of me getting busier or acquiring a new thing. The latter sounded more appealing. I could use this time to finish up the payment for the property at Diobu where I would be relocating my mechanic Workshop. And the sooner I moved to that site the slimmer the chance of me running into Ifenkili except on Sundays during church services.

I fit change church sef.

But... what of my customers who’d known me at Elekahia Mechanic workshop? I might lose them as most of them seemed to be staying around that area. What this meant was that I would start scouting for customers afresh, proving my competence to maintain the ones who came by.

E go hard o. But it could yield great results too.

I might even get other mechanics who would want to rent some space and pay me yearly.

I could also send text messages to my old customers about this new place. After all, most of them had gotten so used to me taking care of their toys and wouldn’t want to have another mechanic working for them. Oga Emeka said my hands work wonders in cars. He and some others might follow me to this new place. Then I would recruit new boys to help out when we don dey get plenty customers.

I was rounding up the note when my phone rang.
It was an unknown number and the first thing that greeted me when I picked up the call was a sniffle followed by sobs.

“Hello?” I said.

“Bro Oghene...”

It was Sarima, the woman I met at the oil mill market earlier today. “Hello, Sarima. You dey cry?”

“Bro Oghene I’m tired...I don’t know what else to do. I-I don’t know who to call and... and.”

“Sarima. Calm down. Where you day?”

She was silent.

“Sarima?”

“I’m sorry bro Oghene, I didn’t mean to—”

“Where you dey?”

“For...in front of your house.”

Jesus. Lord! By this time of the night? How did she even know where he was staying?

Rosemary33:
...—”

“Where you dey?”

“For...in front of your house.”

Jesus. Lord! By this time of the night? How did she even know where he was staying?

Great job, Rosemary66... The action actually started at the end... Hope we won't be waiting for too long for the continuation? Receive grace to continue NOW!!! Can I hear an 'amen?'

Ohibenemma:


Great job, Rosemary66... The action actually started at the end... Hope we won't be waiting for too long for the continuation? Receive grace to continue NOW!!! Can I hear an 'amen?'

Amen

****
Ifenkili

Oghene, Oghene, Oghene.

Was there ever a more beautiful sound than his name? To speak it aloud made my heart ring like a bell. Strange to imagine that, wasn’t it – a heart ringing. But ever since something shifted inside me on seeing him yesterday at that house opening party, and again in the bank today, I realized that, recently, when I thought of him; the way he looked at me, the feeling of his touch, that was what it was like: as if my heart was ringing in my chest and the sound shivering down my veins and splintering my bones with a confusing joy.

Confusing yes! Because...how...why? When did he insidiously take over me so that I’d forgotten about my new man, Preye?

And why have I scribbled Oghene’s name on this paper I tore out from my diary to pen down a complaint letter to my HOD before I would type it? That was because I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight. How close I’d come to kissing the one man that, two years ago...last year...last month, I didn’t know I would be lusting after like an idiot even though I knew that lust was a dangerous thing. I felt this wasn't just lust or infatuation, this was a sudden intoxication, a craven’s craving I could not explain. A want of the flesh and of the soul. I wanted Oghene. I didn’t know when this wanting started but tonight had made it worse. I simply couldn’t not want him.

What was it he did that made me really see him? What word did he say that made it impossible for me to breathe freely? Tonight, I wanted him in a way that was so absolute I couldn’t care if he didn’t want me back the same way. Tonight, I was reminded of what it felt like to be consumed. I’d forgotten how good it could feel—so good that I didn't feel the pain of it until I was already long gone, reduced to a needy woman begging for a kiss. When I thought of it—how I’d done everything tonight for his eyes...for him to notice and crave like I was craving, and how he’d turn cold on me all of a sudden when all I wanted was just...only a simple...him. Just for a moment, I felt the most complete despair.

God! Rejection had never hurt this bad in a long while. Maybe because I was foolish enough to lose my head to the euphoria of the moment and had acted like a woman whose lady beat had been asleep for decades only to wake up with a desperate need for relief in its depth. How did that even happen? How did I go from, ‘Bro Oghene, my God will judge you,’ to wishing he had taken me in his arms and murmured into my mouth while his hands searched out my other craving parts?

I couldn’t count how many times I’d relived those moments we shared just before he ruined it...I ruined it. His eyes on me while I moved my body for him on that dance floor. Him! His shy smiles, his jokes, his stories. When his hands touched her skin, his thumb...fingers stroking my collarbones and my neck. It was like a heated blade glancing through my body, warming and cooling every part of me at the same time, making something dull and dark inside me to briefly light up with violence.

He ruined it, not me. I never asked him...wanted him to make up for my frustrating night. He offered. When he took my hand to help me into the Sienna, my heart had made a funny and frightening summersault that wasn’t just from the physical desire his physical presence had ignited but from some new and unfamiliar.

Respect yourself, Ifenkili, I had thought.

That didn’t work for all through the time we spent in each other’s company, he effortlessly hit my veins like a stiff drink on an empty stomach, carried me off like a beautiful dream, charming me, kicking out what was solid in my heart and seizing my attention sharply, breathlessly, like a coil around my throat. It wasn’t tonight it all started. This unholy and selfish desire for him. Selfish yes, because I was sure there would never be any long-lasting thing between us. Just friendship and that feeling of regret that we should have been an item if I wasn’t searching for something more solid, something permanent. I had asked for his kiss because he was in my head...my brain. Tonight, he was like a substance I was indulging in for the first time, and its effect got intense every subsequent hour, after the first sniff.

All I wanted was to sink into him and keep sinking. Just for the moment, for tonight. That was why I wanted him to kiss me, to touch me, or the whole of me would shatter to pieces. That would be enough, right?

But he didn’t want just a moment. He had never wanted just a moment with me, I knew. What I didn’t expect was his offer, his proposal. Hearing his voice like that while he pinned me to the chair with just a hand to my chest was like a rumble in the quietness of the van. It was a plea, a prayer, and a question, all wrapped into one. I had gone from being overfilled with cravings to getting drained in less than a second, then back to being overwhelmed with emotions when I saw the disappointment on his face immediately, I refused him. That look...it had aroused in me a fresh desire to touch him, touch every part of his face with my lips.

Maybe that was why the words, ‘Kiss me,’ erupted out of my mouth before I could stop it. I didn’t think I wanted to stop it because I asked him again, begged him even to kiss me.

My blatant plea shocked and shamed me. And when he pushed me away instead of taking pity on me, I had run without glancing back as I feared I might very well expire if I did.

He ruined the night for me...for us...for me. And though I wished I hated him now, I still could not concentrate on what I wanted to do with this piece of paper I tore out. Or on Preye who called a while ago to verbally apologize, my phone still buzzing with his messages after his call. I couldn’t even settle my mind enough to think about the real reason for my brother’s visit and his insistence on sleeping over. All I could think about was my time with Oghene. Everything I settle my eyes on now reminded me of those intimate...near erotic moments: the basket of fruits that was delivered to me while I was away—A peace offering from Preye, received by my brother and was now sitting on the dining table, the flowers by the TV stand, even the shape of the empty wine bottle lying carelessly on the floor reminded me so much of what he had aroused inside of me. How unaware I was of my emotional lacks until Oghene made me realize how much in need I was.

Jesus! I wasn’t just attracted to Oghene, I might actually have an itsy-bitsy love for him.

Stunned, I lost my ability to form words in my head as the room spun for a moment at the craziness. I hated this kind of craziness. Detested it. And in this case, I could hear the mockery laughter of the walls around me, and the soft nudge to book a ride that would drive me to the length and breadth of Port Harcourt until we got to Oghene’s place, then I would ask him how long he’d been planning this onslaught on me.