Aaahh! Femiii!! It's finally done! It is well, as you're welcome to fatherhood. Rest assured of our support. Nice story, OP. Still following back-2-back. Reminds me of some little naughty bits of mine back in the day . . .

SeyiJay:
Aaahh! Femiii!! It's finally done! It is well, as you're welcome to fatherhood. Rest assured of our support. Nice story, OP. Still following back-2-back. Reminds me of some little naughty bits of mine back in the day . . .

Lol... So you were one of Femi's accomplices ?

Episode 20 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌

~ Femi's POV ~

I was in the bathroom with my whole body shivering, while my father’s voice pierced through the whole house in shock at what I didn’t know who told him. Who is he talking to? I had pondered inside the bathroom. Then, my mom also came out of her room.
"Kilode? What is it? What did Femi do?” she asked in one breath?
“So this boy has chosen to disgrace me and has sworn to drag this family's name in the mud,” I heard my father say. He sounded bitter and upset.
“What has he done this time around?” Mom queried.

It was then I felt it must be about Biola's pregnancy. Could it be she had issues with the abortion or what? I kept pondering about what my father was informed about over the phone.
I haven’t spoken with Biola ever since Pastor Ben told me to make sure she didn’t abort the baby.
Truth is, I actually didn’t want her to keep the baby. Yes, I wanted Biola to get rid of the baby because I knew the outcome would have so many consequences including my chances of going to University. Having a baby as a teenager was not part of my plans. So I refused to call Biola after the youth pastor told me to make sure she keeps the baby. I planned to call her after a few days and hopefully by then she must have gotten the pills like she talked about the other time. And by the time I meet Pastor Ben again, I’d tell him she already did the abortion before I was able to reach her. That was how I had it in my head.

“Can you imagine? Your sister just called me…”
“Imagine what? What did Bose say?” asked my mother
“Femi impregnated Biola and he has been living in this house with us,” my father finally broke the ugly news.

I became so cold like a fish. I couldn’t make a move while I stood there inside the bathroom. My heart raced faster than Usain Bolt. I had several thoughts about my father’s next line of action and my whole being was in chaos.
“Ahhh! This boy has disgraced me,” stuttered my mom. I literally felt her words so deep inside of me, and I felt I had truly disappointed them.
“Where is that boy?” my father thundered. And I could hear him push the dining table.
“Femiii..,” my mom called, stressing the last syllable. I could sense they were looking for me as I overhead their footsteps from one end to another.
“Agatha, where is Femi?” I heard my father ask.
“I think he is in the bathroom,” she announced. And I could feel my heart thudding against the ribs. As soon as I overheard footsteps approaching the bathroom, I quickly bolted the door and wore my shorts.

“Femi, will you open the door and get out of that place,” he yelled, causing my heart to pound faster. Yet I remained calm and quiet not until he started to bang on the door.
“Femi, If I break this door, you won’t like yourself,” my father added aloud.
“Femi, won’t you open the door?” came my mother’s voice.
“Please, daddy, I’m sorry. I’m a changed person now.” I finally broke the awkward silence. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I was sober and scared of the unknown. I knew what he could do to me if I eventually open the door.
“Femi, if I break this door, you’ll get it rough with me,” my father said and banged on the door.

I kept contemplating whether to open or let him do his worst. I felt breaking the door as he said was kind of a threat and a way of tricking me to unlock the old wooden door. Not until I felt the weight of the door on my forehead. Yes, he eventually pushed the door so hard with his weight and it got loosened from the bolt. I couldn’t help but yell in pain as soon as the door hit my head. This was happening around 11 pm. The compound was as quiet as a graveyard. Only the sound of a generator from the next building was the only sound that filled the air.

My father came in and pounced on me. He slapped me hard on the face. He hit my head and every other place he could get hold of. I tried to run but he caught me in my shorts and continued hitting me so hard. “Please, daddy please…” I cried. Yet he was never moved by my tears and pleading. Despite my mom’s intervention and pleads, he went on till he saw blood gushing out from my mouth and face.
“This is just the beginning,” he said, then walked out of the bathroom.
“And this is the person you want us to send to the University? Eh? So he would go there and become the second version of Solomon in the Bible,” he turned to my mom who stood there motionless.
“Get ready to start working because you’ll soon father a child,” he said. He then reached his room, went in, and slammed the door.
I stood outside the bathroom, tears, and blood rolling down my cheeks at the same time. Subconsciously, I tasted my blood, and my tears tasted salty.

“Femi, how could you?” my mom queried

Silence.

“So this is all about you staying back in Ibadan?" she yelled.

“Yes. That’s it! He wanted to stay there and continue his atrocities with Biola.” My father screamed from his room.

I knew Agatha and Shola were awake but they couldn’t come out of the room. My mom went on to rebuke and say all manner of things that made me feel worthless. She added jocularly that she would have to cut my pen!s off.

~ Biola's POV ~

Morning sickness came pretty quickly, and I began to feel tired all the time. I felt so bad knowing I was always sleeping all day. It was Aramide who did almost all the house chores. It was my first time being pregnant and it knocked me down beyond my expectation.
Aunty Bose wouldn’t like to see me idling around, doing absolutely nothing. I knew she badly wished they call off the strike, so I could just go back to school and leave her husband’s house. It was through her, that my brother, Gbenga found out I was pregnant.

So, one Sunday evening, Gbenga visited us. He was so disappointed in me. He literally said I was stupid for spreading my legs for Femi. At a time, I didn’t know if he actually came to insult me or to see how I was coping with my first pregnancy.

Gbenga went ahead to remind me we had no mother again and my father in the village would barely show any form of financial support if at all I have any hope of getting support from him. Actually, we came from a polygamous family and my late mother happened to be the first wife. My stepmother and his children lived with my father in the village. My brother went on to say he regretted ever allowing Femi and I in his apartment the day we came to see him. He presumed that was the day Femi must have slept with me. I barely said anything to him and he was so pissed off at what I had put myself into. Gbenga was one of my brothers who had been supportive financially in my school and then he felt disgruntled.

****

The next three we were as rough, with my Aunty Bose rarely talking to me, despite her extroverted, charismatic nature. I began to feel really odd. I would burst out in tears at random times. I was depressed for being such a disappointment to everyone around me. Yet I hung on, determined to carry my cross.
One Monday morning, I was in the toilet when I discovered tiny spots of blood on my toilet paper. I didn’t know what it means and I didn’t know what to do. I’ve seen enough movies to understand the seriousness of bleeding while pregnant.
I rushed out and met Aunty Bose in the kitchen. I told her and waited to hear her say some nasty words, or perhaps, scold me but she didn’t. I could only see the shock on her face. I’ll never forget her face that very day. She told me to get dressed and we quickly went to the hospital.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer
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Femi papa na John Cena

this part reminds me of my pass experience with one girl in my neighborhood then in sokoto she nearly got pregnant sighs

Well . . . I wouldn't call it "accomplice" per se . . . just one of those acts of youthful exuberance . . . but i'd say Femi's escapades senior my own o . . . well well!

frankwriter:


Lol... So you were one of Femi's accomplices ?

Episode 21 �

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌



~Biola’s POV ~

We got to the hospital; a private hospital in Ibadan. We waited a long time before we saw the doctor. Then I got my very first sonogram. I found out I was actually two months along. More disappointment fell on Aunty Bose's face. The doctor also told us I wasn’t miscarrying and I needed to go home and have a good rest. He said the bleeding was due to the fact I was always worried and lost in thought. He further advised and encouraged me to avoid any form of stress, be it mental or physical stress. After describing a medication, Aunty Bose settled the bill and we left later in the evening.

~ Femi's POV ~

The following day, I fell ill from the beating I got from my father. My face got swollen and with a few bruises. Yet my father seemed unconcerned and unbothered when he saw my face. Thank God for my mom who was caring enough to get some pain reliever and other drugs for me at the nearby chemist. I used them and the pains subsided.

For good two days, I was indoors, and never had any reason to come outside. I was supposed to attend the second youth program but I couldn’t go anywhere. During that period of two days, my father barely said anything to me. All he kept saying was, that I should just forget about going to the university and go look for work that would enable me to take care of my unborn baby. He equally said that my nonchalant attitude had only found a way to fire an arrow in his heart. He said each time he preached and rebuked people about premarital sex and its likes, he always heard a voice that reminds him of his son at home. My father was of the notion that the devil was using me to fight him and his ministry, and I think that was more reason he didn’t take it lightly with me.

Seeing me every day in the house was something I knew he wished he could avoid. I knew I irritated him so much that he wanted me to go somewhere else after that incident. Instead of giving me support to survive through the predicament I found myself in, he made it worse by inflicting me with horrible words.
He also had this feeling that he failed as a father and a pastor for not raising me the way I should have followed.
My mom on the other hand was the opposite. She made me feel that l could still be a better person if I change my ways. And my father felt she was only pampering me despite what I have done.

I tried reaching Biola but she wasn’t taking my calls and she wasn’t replying to my WhatsApp texts too. I needed to know how she was coping with the pregnancy but she was ignoring me. I guess she must be regretting her silly actions with me.

One night after dinner, my father turned to me and asked, “Femi, what’s your plan with Biola? How do you both intend to raise your baby?” I was mute and didn’t reply to him. I was rather offended by his question. I wasn’t the first person to be in such a predicament, so why make me feel like I was the worst person ever? I pondered. I wish I could say it to him. I wish I could say a lot of things but that would only result in another serious beating.

“My major concern is your sister, Bose,” he turned to my mother.
“You think Biola would be a disturbance to her?"
“Yes. Why won’t she? A pregnant woman would always behave like one, so…”
“But I thought the strike has been called off the day before yesterday,” said my mother.
“Yes, I heard so. I tried reaching Biola but she’s not picking up my calls,” I finally spoke.

“Poor girl. Do you expect her to pick before? You have almost rendered her dreams…”
“Rendered her dreams what? Why won’t she pick? Did Femi force her? Did he rape her?” my mother interrupted.
“Like mother like son. I have always known you will support him,” my father said, his eyes widened.

“I never supported Femi nor Biola. I sincerely do not like how you have been going about with the whole issue. The deed has been done. All we need now is a solution and how to support the two of them in the way we could. How long do you want to keep making him feel rejected?” asked my mom. She sounded like she was sobbing and I felt my belly churn.

“And you think Femi deserves all your pampering? He doesn’t deserve it any bit. I won’t stop making him feel this way. Who knows, tomorrow, we might come back and hear that either Agatha or Bukola is pregnant for him,” my father sad to my discomfort.
“God forbid!” my mom replied speedily.
“God will only forbid if you spare the rod and spoil the child,” he said and went inside his room.

I was just calm. My fingers crossed, with lots of thoughts going through my head. I wished I could just fly out of the house and never have any reason to return. I needed somewhere I could find peace. I badly wanted to leave the house for my father and have no reason to ever come back.

~ Biola's POV ~

Finally, Aunty Bose's prayer was answered. The strike was eventually called off. It was time to return to Lagos State Polytechnic and I wasn’t excited to go. Not even a bit. I wished the strike continued for long till I was put to bed.
Two weeks were gone and I didn’t feel like resuming. I got calls from my friends and coursemates, asking when I’d be back to school. I kept telling them anytime soon. It was Seyi who kept calling me regularly. She knew me to be that serious student who normally returns to school on time and rarely misses classes. Each time she asked if everything was fine, I’d tell her yes.

One day, I got a call from an unknown number, and it happened to be Femi's mother. I wouldn’t have answered if I knew she was the one calling, but it turned out she actually meant well to me, unlike Femi's father who called days ago and made me feel worthless. Sometimes, whenever I was in my solitary confinement, his words came ringing in my head and I felt so bad.

Well, Femi's mother was more concerned about my health like a mother. She never in a way sounded harsh or rude over the phone. She was just positive and she went straight to the point about why she called. Her major concern was how I would cope with school and pregnancy. I did make her understand I was in my second year in Poly and after my exams, I’d go on one year of Industrial Training before thinking about school again, that’s if I’d still like to continue.

“You’ll,” she said. She went on to encourage me to stay positive and never allow it to weigh me down. She said she would send some money to my account later, so I’d use it to get some stuff before going back to school. She said I should feel free to call her if I have any challenges in school. And for the first time in a long time, I felt so relieved. I couldn’t thank her enough for her support and words of encouragement. She gave me hope and I was glad I answered her call.

“I’m sure you must have learned your lessons and I wouldn’t want you to repeat this in the nearest future,” she said. I replied in the positive.
“So send me your account details later in the day,” she said.
“Alright, ma.”
“And don’t forget to register for antenatal when you get back to school.”
“I won’t forget.”
She ended the call. I heaved a big sigh of relief. I went in and started arranging my clothes.

To be continued..
©Frank The Writer
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Femi you better hustle,cos na twins

i really felt for both femi and biola

Episode 22 �

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌Do Not Copy or Repost❌


~ Biola's POV ~

I was finally leaving Ibadan for Lagos and I could tell there was some sort of relief it gave Aunty Bose. Before then, I went to see my brother, Gbenga.
Despite the fact he was disappointed in me, he still encouraged me and gave me some money.
Did I forget to tell you how much Femi's mother later sent to me? Forgive me. She sent a whooping 40k naira to my account after she talked to me that day. I couldn’t hold my joy. I called her and thanked her for being so kind and caring. With her support, I was able to get some stuff from the market. I’m sure you’d be wondering if my brother's wife (Bose) gave me any money? Well, I wouldn’t like to label her a bad person. She gave me foodstuffs and I could tell that was what she could afford. Besides, she had her son and Aramide to take care of. It was obvious she had many mouths to feed from the little earned.

***
Fast forwarding, I got back to Lagos Sunday evening. The school environment as usual bubbled with students here and there. Loud music from unseen stereos and stuff like that. Of course, my outlook already changed. Though my belly wasn’t that big and noticeable, someone could still tell I was pregnant by merely looking at my face.
One of my fear was being judged by lecturers, my coursemates, and friends. And the last thing I wanted was for it to affect any of my classes—and I didn’t want to have any kind of judgment on me. Truth is, I wasn’t the kind of girl everyone expected to get pregnant in school. I wasn’t religious either, but I had this kind of ‘ambitious girl attitude' on campus. I’m sure you know what I mean. Yes, the type that was always attending seminars and all kinds of self-development programs.
That’s by the way. Well, I’m not going to go into details to bore you with every single thing that happened when I got back to school. I’m only going to share a few vital ones.

Back to classes, I told a few good friends. I trusted them and knew they would support me like Femi's mother. I was wrong. Soon after telling my ‘friends,” I found out that some of them suddenly stopped speaking to me. I bet they weren’t able to deal with the fact they knew I was pregnant. And I was chastised for being immoral for having premarital sex and for deciding to carry my pregnancy.

Well, somehow, I felt lonely. It was a very challenging time. A lot of people that you thought would be there for you, won’t. It was surprising because I had a few friends, but there seem to be nobody I could relate to except Seyi and Kemisola. Both were the ones who didn’t disappear completely. Then I remembered a quote I once heard on a radio station, and it went thus, “Before sex, you help each other to get naked and after sex, you only dress yourself. Moral of the story: In life, no one helps you when you’re ‘f*cked’.
I was emotionally drained. I knew I needed a shoulder to lean on but there was no one around me. I attended lectures about two-three times a week. My only hope was that I’d be free after exams.

~ Femi's POV~

Biola went back to school and yet she didn’t want to talk to me nor changed her mind and answer my calls. It bothered me why she was keeping malice with me. I soon realized she was always talking to my mom over the phone. So one day I tried calling her with my mom's phone. She picked up as soon it rang. Biola went mute the moment she heard my voice.

“Biola, what have I done to deserve this long silence from you? Did I offend you in any way?”

Silence.

“You keep ignoring my calls and texts,” I continued.

“Femi what else do you want us to chat about? I’m not in the mood for all these conversations. My mental health is paramount to me, please,” she said and paused.

“Yes, I know we don’t have much to talk about. Hearing your voice is enough. I still care. I really do. It’s only my father who has been taking the whole thing too far,” I added.

“Thank God you know he’s been overdoing things. Your father literally talked to me like I was a prostitute. There was nothing he didn’t say to me,” she lamented.

“I thought as much. And I’m sure that’s the reason you have been avoiding me. You wouldn’t believe what I went through in his hands.”

“Femi, whatever. I’ll be fine,” she hanged up speedily.

***

Well, I reserved my hatred for my father. For the being whose blood flows in my veins. He thought himself above mistakes and seemed like he was the most righteous man on earth. Whenever I talk to my father, I end up frustrated. My father and I began to have issues in our father/ son relationship. He messes with my mental health whenever I talked to him.
I honestly didn’t know how to stop getting so worked up over it. It’s usually him telling me something, giving me advice or telling me his opinion on something that I’m doing, or telling me something about what someone else has done and just trying to teach me something. I usually describe it as a lecture. One that I didn’t sign up for.

There were times that I decide to listen, and there were times that I get so worked up. When I told him about how I get frustrated when I talk to him, one of the things he said was along the lines of, “you don’t need to get so frustrated."
I know I don’t like my dad because I get so prickly over anything he says plus I kind of try to avoid him, limit any time we can talk to each other which can make me feel kind of guilty because I know he means well. But, this doesn’t stop the fact that he gets on my nerves and how I don’t like talking to him.

It’s great when I don’t care and I’m not listening and just want him to finish talking. But, I don’t think I’m always going to be like that. Randomly, I’d decide that I want to actually hear him out but I get so worked up afterward that it’s difficult for me to concentrate on other things. That’s annoying! So I had to complain to my mom so she could talk to him but then my mom called me to a corner and she said: "You might feel he doesn’t understand you, isn’t supportive of you, or doesn’t give you the independence you need. The important thing to remember is that your dad is probably trying to do these things but in a different way from what you want. Have you tried to tell him how you feel? Imagine in your head the way you would like him to talk to you and then tell him your suggestions. If your dad does mean well, as you say, he will listen to you." She said and paused. After some seconds, she continued:

"We can love people and be annoyed or dislike them at the same time. When you find these negative feelings to take over, remind yourself of positive memories with your dad and your relationship with him. This could be as small as him driving you somewhere or saying goodnight before you go to bed. Think of something you would like to do with your dad and let him know. Spending positive time with him may also help decrease your feelings of dislike.
When we are angry or frustrated, we often react rather than respond. This means we do and say things without thinking and often end up regretting them or feeling guilty. When we respond, we have had time to not let our emotions take over. It might help to try to respond to your dad rather than react. So when you are recognizing yourself getting worked up, stop, take a deep breath and either tell yourself some calming words in your head or take some time out by yourself." Mom finally stopped.

That was the first time I watched my mom speak so intelligently and I was wowed. Through the help of my mom, we were able to convince my father to allow me further my studies. He accepted but he gave us a condition that he wasn't going to spend on my unborn baby. He said Biola and I would find a way to carter for the baby. He would only fund my school and nothing more.
And that was how my dream of going to University was revived. In the next episode, I'm going to tell you what my life at the university was like. Till then.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer
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Well done OP
I feel for Biola alot.
Femi's father should try and be a little lenient

Reading this ,sort of .....
Made me feel somehow.

Maybe because my name is Femi.
Lol.


Good job op

Semako36:
Well done OP
I feel for Biola alot.
Femi's father should try and be a little lenient

Lol.. He's a pastor

Fmghewzy:
Reading this ,sort of .....
Made me feel somehow.

Maybe because my name is Femi.
Lol.


Good job op

Lmao..... Thank you Femooo

The story felt so real

Frank na baba

Femi deserved an Award, what A Story!

Seconded! Can't help but agree!
Keep the story flowing bro! Thumbs Up!

Kyrestas:
Femi deserved an Award, what A Story!

So far so good ur stories have bin great but u need to add comic relief for d depressed n sad fans also more elaborate erotic scene for the soapy n vibrator gang. Hope u see my comment now. Am david frm facebook. Anywhr u go i follow.

Episode 23 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌

~ Femi's POV

The thought of knowing that the University of Ibadan was a very competitive school always sent a chill pill down my spine as I awaited the admission list. Even though my Jamb score was high, I was uncertain of what it would turn out to be. The course of study I chose was also competitive.

That very day, I sat relaxed on the couch in the sitting room. My phone was in my left hand as I scrolled through my newsfeed on Facebook. Then came Shola’s voice from the bedroom. “Femi, UI admission list is finally out. Hope you are aware?” She said and dashed out of the bedroom with a half smile. “How did you know? Are you sure of what you just said? Please, don’t joke with me.” I turned in her direction.

Shola and I have been very close right from childhood, and oftentimes we do prank each other and play other expensive jokes too. “No. I’m not joking. Why would I joke about such a thing?” she looked me in the eyes, and then I could tell she wasn’t joking. “Why not check their website and see for yourself,” she said, letting out a smile. My heartbeat suddenly went faster. It seemed like unusual electrification went through my veins as I stopped what I was doing with my phone and quickly clicked on my browser.

Subconsciously, I was sweating. Deep down, I prayed to be among the chosen ones, just as if my prayer could have changed anything then. Since I already had my jamb reg number copied to my clipboard, it was very easy to paste it on the box wherein my Jamb reg number was to be typed. Shola was watching from behind as she stood behind me.

“Femi, your hand is shaking,” she teased me.

“You won’t understand,” I replied with a half smile.

She simply chuckled and had her eyes glued to my phone.

The University of Ibadan had been my dream school when I was much younger. It was a childhood dream to end up as a student at the prestigious university. I can’t really tell why but I grew up to fancy the school based on numerous positivity that emerges from there. Their students are quite intelligent; both academically and morally. I knew so many people who desired to be there but eventually didn’t reach the cut-off mark. Some ended up in Polytechnics, others opted for other universities the following year.

The network seemed so bad as the browser loaded very slowly. I just couldn’t wait to know my fate. I quickly turned off the data and turned it on again in a second. In the blink of an eye, I was wowed to see an offer of provisional admission to study Mechanical Engineering; my dream course. I screamed joyfully while embracing Shola that we almost fell flat on the floor, but the couch in the living room saved us. I was overwhelmed; my heart leaped up for joy. I felt a surge of happiness. That was one happy moment of my life.
"Finally, I will be leaving this house for you all,” I said jocularly. Shola busted into laughter.

When mom returned, I told her and she was happy about it. She congratulated me while she seized the opportunity to advise me to be prepared for the challenges ahead. My father was glad when I told him I made the merit list. For the first time in a long time, he was proud of Femi. I guess I was the happiest person on earth.

***

Weeks later, it was finally time to move out of Ondo to Ibadan where my journey as an undergraduate would set in. I received tons of advice from my father: “Femi, don’t forget where you are coming from. Femi, don’t do this, don’t do that.” I responded positively to everything he said. Well, I was already a changed person; my mind was made up to turn a new leaf after the encounter with pastor Ben. I decided I was going to live right as soon as I step my feet in UI.

My mom was like, “Femi, don’t allow anybody to pressure you. Be contented with what you have.” I was just nodding my head like an agama lizard. I was going to miss them all and it was quite an emotional moment for me. Bidemi was equally around. She was back from school for the long break. I would miss her too. I told them I would miss them and they were honest to admit they would miss me too. Shola teased about coming with me so she would be cooking for me. Everyone busted into laughter. Indirectly, she made jest of me for not knowing how to prepare meals.

My black echolac bag was filled with my clothes. The other two bags contained my foodstuff and other home appliances and accessories I’d be needing in school. It was on a Saturday morning, and I was to go with my father in his car.

~ Biola's POV ~

Three months of pregnancy and all I can say is, that it hasn’t been an easy ride. Yet, I was keeping up by the day. I thank God for Femi's mom who was steadily checking up on me. She was there like a mother to me. She was the person who informed me about Femi's admission status. Femi didn’t call me again after the very day I ended the call on him. I realized I was being harsh on him, but that was how I felt then. He truly didn’t deserve any form of rejection from me because we were in that mess together. Maybe I was tensed up because I was the one carrying the load.

After some days, I decided to call Femi. At least to congratulate him on his new feat. He was surprised I called, and at the same time, he was happy to hear my voice. It seemed there was something about him that I can’t get off my chest. I still liked Femi and I missed him too. Yes, I do. Femi and I got talking on the phone, and he told me he had changed from the old Femi I used to know. We laughed over it while he added that he changed from being nonchalant to being a very ambitious guy. He also talked about his challenges as a fresher. He confessed it hasn’t been an easy task. The call lasted for ten minutes and I was glad we got talking again.


~ Femi's POV ~

As a new student of the University of Ibadan, I guess I was the newest ‘Jonny Just Come' on campus. The school environment was new to me and there were so many things I needed to adapt to.

I wasn’t staying off campus. My father wanted me to live in the school hostel. He believed that would curb my possibility of living a wayward life on campus. Living in a school hostel wasn’t actually what I wanted, but that was my father's decision for me. Nevertheless, living with people I barely knew in a room was something that really bothered me. But since we weren’t more than four in our room. I believed I would cope, I consoled myself. Although the room looked congested, I had to manage.

The University of Ibadan is also a very big school with a serene school environment for study. They have good infrastructures and good lecturers too. Though some people believed that the school is boring but I don’t agree. It’s generally up to you if you want to be bored.

I met lots of people and faces I barely knew would turn out to be my friends and coursemates. But just like my father had advised, I was conscious of the kind of people I relate with. Well, I’m definitely going to bore you if I begin to narrate in detail every single thing that happened in UI. So I’m just going to be brief enough.

One of the challenges I faced was stretching my intellectual prowess. I have never read in my life the way I read in UI just so I could meet up. I had to learn to strategize, learn smartly, discuss with a few coursemates, and collected lecture slides from people too. I was told they don’t set simple questions. On average, I can say a typical UI student is a bookworm. The majority of them are bibliophiles.
My early life at UI was kinda boring because I avoided night parties and all sorts of social gatherings that were held at night.

***

One fateful Friday, Biola called me on phone. She didn’t mince words before telling me why she called. She wanted me to pay her a school visit. She was literally craving my presence. I could feel her loneliness in her voice and it melted my heart. It was her first pregnancy and I felt she must be going through a lot.

Me: I will come around whenever I feel we have lesser lectures ahead.

Biola: That will be in a very long time.

Silence.

Me: Um, I don’t know yet but I’ll try.

Biola: Anyhow shaa. Just try and come.

Me: Okay. I’ll.

(Call ended).

From the look of things and how Biola sounded, I knew she must be missing me badly. I couldn’t feel well when I dropped the call. She could be facing some challenges, I had pondered. Throughout the night of that day, I didn’t sleep well. All my thoughts were centered on Biola. I had to call her on phone the following day being Saturday.

“Can you text me a proper direction? I’ll be coming today,” I said when she picked up the call. I could feel she was elated to hear I was coming to see her.
"Wow! Today?”
“Yes, today.”
“Okay. I’ll send it as a text message,” she excitedly responded and hung up immediately.

Ibadan to Lagos is about two hours plus trip. So even if I decided to leave Ibadan later in the day, I’d still meet up, but because of security reasons, I left around noon, having informed two of my roommates, Kunle and Ifeoluwa.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer

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Awaiting father
Thank you for this very small piece
Sweet popcorn for you

Femi as you're going start doing family planning o.

Biola will be so relieved to see him

Semako36:
Femi as you're going start doing family planning o.

Biola will be so relieved to see him

Recall that Femi needs to shine the kongo very well for easy delivery
This is the time they need to enjoy themselves wella
After all the pregnancy is already there and there is no need for fear of anything
If you know you know
Ann2012 I trust you understand me here
Sweet popcorn for una

Adesina12:


Recall that Femi needs to shine the kongo very well for easy delivery
This is the time they need to enjoy themselves wella
After all the pregnancy is already there and there is no need for fear of anything
If you know you know
Ann2012 I trust you understand me here
Sweet popcorn for una

I understand you jare

Exactly nothing to fear.

Adesina12:


Recall that Femi needs to shine the kongo very well for easy delivery
This is the time they need to enjoy themselves wella
After all the pregnancy is already there and there is no need for fear of anything
If you know you know
Ann2012 I trust you understand me here
Sweet popcorn for una

Nice one sir........ I finally caught up with the story

pearlbest:
Nice one sir........ I finally caught up with the story

Congrats....
Lol

Episode 24 will be out later today.
I have been busy lately.

what I enjoy most bout this story is the level of suspense

Keep it up Franky

Episode 24 ��

Written by: Frank The Writer

❌Do Not Copy or Repost ❌


Fair warning: ⚠️ This episode is long but not too long. Additionally, it's rated 18+. Thank you.

***

My trip from Ibadan to Lagos was a successful one. I arrived in Lagos somewhere between 2 to 3 pm. I can’t really tell the exact time. And it happened to be my first time coming to Eko— Lagos. Yeah! All my life have been revolving around Ibadan and Ondo. I didn’t tell any of my family members about my trip to Lagos. Neither my mom nor my father would agree if I ever informed them I was going to see Biola.

Just like Biola had directed, I got on a bus when I arrived at Ojota. The distinct yellow ‘danfo’ bus which is peculiar to Lagos State. I held my small black bag firmly, to avoid stories that touches the heart. I was dressed simply in a black shirt and plain trousers.

Sitting down on the danfo bus, sweating profusely, I began to have random thoughts: “What if something bad had happened to me on my way to Lagos? What if this, what if that?” They were all negative thoughts. But I tried to shove them off my head by scrolling through my phone. Then my phone rang. I glanced through it and noticed it was Biola calling.

“Hello..”
“Femi, where are you now?”
“I'm on the bus already.”
“Okay. Please, be careful. This is Lagos.”
“No problem,” I smiled.
“Don’t dull yourself oo,” she added in Yoruba.
“Don't worry, I’ll be fine.”

I sat at the extreme side is the bus, just to see things for myself. Cars and trucks swooshed past, but we were stuck at one point. I have always heard that Lagos and traffic are like bread and butter. Between the incredible heat, the smell in the danfo, and the noise—both inside and outside the bus—I would be very happy if I get to Ikorodu in one piece.

Finally, the bus began to move approximately 150 cm and then back to standstill traffic again. When the driver switched off the engine, I felt my heart sink into that special zone of despair reserved for a 'JJC' in Lagos, on the brink of missing my way or perhaps arriving at my destination late in the night.

Then an argument ensued between the conductor and a passenger who wanted to know why the driver had followed a different route only to find out the road was also blocked.
Their disagreement took two left turns, crossed a bridge, climbed a hill, and somehow ended up with both the conductor and passenger screaming at each other. The duo became a source of joyful entertainment for the rest of the passengers as loud laughter rocked the bus while they insulted each other in what seemed like ‘Lagos Yoruba' not the kind of Yoruba we speak in Ibadan and Ondo. One of the passengers farted while she was laughing out loud and that got everyone laughing so hard. I must say, I was so entertained by these Lagos people.

Eventually, the traffic started to move and we finally arrived at the bus stop. I glanced at my timepiece, it was 4:12 pm.
When I alighted from the bus, the two men were still heartily calling down evil and chicken pox on each other’s presumably innocent parents. I bet the conductor got Master's Degree in abusive words. The dude was so brutal with his choice of words in Yoruba. I heard words I never heard before.

***

I looked round to see the bustling here and there. Lagos, a paradise for Nigerian hustlers. The city where everything is for sale, the city that never sleeps. They said every race and religion, every tribe and language are in Lagos, and I couldn’t believe less.

As of then, Okada riders were rampant, I found one and told him where I was heading to—and instantly I hopped onto his bike without negotiating—a very big mistake I made. We got to Laspotech minutes later, and I was unable to argue with the opportunist okada rider ( a young Yoruba boy with two rolls of tribal mark on his cheeks) who charged me a thousand naira for about eight minutes drive. I was mad at him and mad at myself for not negotiating in the first place.
I had no option but to pay the greedy fellow. I walked out angrily. I walked to a spot and took out my phone from my pocket to call Biola. She answered and said she was on her way coming out. I heaved a sigh of relief on hearing that.

About seven minutes later, I looked up and sighted her coming with her protruded belly. My heart suddenly sank on sighting Biola. She had changed from the last time we met. That was a few months ago when I was still in Ibadan. I walked in her direction and I could see smile wreathed on her face. Her smile was so infectious that I couldn’t hold mine. I smiled back.

Biola and I finally embraced each other when I got to where she stood. I could feel her heartbeat and warm body. I felt so emotional. I had a wave of old memories rushing through my head. I have really missed her and it was obvious. But Biola wasn’t so comfortable embracing me in the public. She was quick to discharge herself and I understood that perfectly. She was still shy and nervous as a pregnant student.

“Femi, longest time,” she said in Yoruba.
“Yeah. Been months now. How’s it going?”
“Um, you have seen me naa..”
“Yes. And you ain’t looking bad.”
“Don’t say that again oo,” she turned and looked me in the eyes.

We were both walking together. She lead the way while I followed.

“Omo University,” Biola teased. She meant University Boy.
I just giggled and said nothing.
“How's UI treating you?” she added.
“UI is not for the feeble. Always choking us with unending assignments and loads of work.”
“I thought as much. It’s written all over you.”
“Oh! Really? How do you mean?”
“Your neck is longer now,” she laughed.

Biola and I got talking as she lead the way to her lodge located around Success Garden, Agbowa, Ikorodu. She told me it hasn’t been easy with her if not for my mom’s steady support. She said sometimes she had cravings for things she can’t afford. I really felt for her as she shared her pregnancy story. When she was done, I told her about my experience with the bike man and she told me I gotta learn the distinction between being smart and being street smart.


~ Biola's POV ~

I felt so relieved seeing Femi again. There was this feeling of joy in my stomach. I had long craved his presence and I could feel my baby kicking but I didn’t understand what that meant. Yet I didn’t tell Femi exactly how I felt. I felt there was no need to tell him how I feel about his presence.
I had finally gathered enough nerve to put the wheels of my plan in motion and now that Femi came through for me, my happiness knew no bounds. Femi presented himself as an eagerly submissive male from the very onset. Our bond is a perfect example of how two opposites attract.

~ Femi's POV~

We got to Biola's apartment; a single-room apartment with a toilet and kitchen. I walked quickly to the door with her following and then she stopped a meter from the door to allow me to do the gentlemanly thing. I opened the door and we went in. I looked up at the wall, and my eyes caught the multicolored wall clock on the wall; it was 5:00 pm.

Biola’s room was neatly arranged and decorated with some nice artwork. One was a frame of an African woman with C cup breast, a narrow waist, and a gigantic backside. There was another beautiful frame of Pablo Escoba which hung on the wall. I later learned she got it from her ex-boyfriend.

I dropped my small bag at a corner where she kept some of her clothes. Silence stood between us for some seconds before she asked if I had eaten.
“I'm very hungry. Did you cook anything?” I asked. She replied in the negative.


~ Biola's POV ~

When Femi said he was feeling hungry, I made tea and bread for him to cool off before I headed to the kitchen to prepare food. I already bought the foodstuffs for Efo soup before his arrival.
While I was in the kitchen, Femi lay on the bed on his back as he got busy with his phone.

A moment later, I came out to meet Femi already fast asleep. The soup was ready but hot water for eba was still on fire.
Seeing the way he lay on the bed, I had several crazy thoughts in my head. I craved to lie on top of him as I watched his belly as it rose and fall back while he breathed.
When finally I made the food was ready, I dished out the soup and eba on a stainless plate. “Femi,” I tapped him, but he didn’t respond. I tapped him on the shoulders the second time before he sluggishly rose from bed—yawning and stretching his arms.


~ Femi's POV ~

I was woken up by Biola to feast on eba and efo soup. It was dawn already. The light from the moon flickered through the window. I heaved a sigh of relief while Biola stood and stared at me. I pondered what could be going on in her mind. “Let's eat together,” I said. She joined me and sat on the bed which served as a chair while the food was on the tiled floor. It felt like we were a newly married couple experiencing marriage life and expecting a child soon. Yeah, that was exactly the way I felt as Biola and I ate from the same plate. She would constantly gaze at me and then continue eating. I didn’t understand that gesture. I simply smiled.

By the time we were done eating, I told Biola I needed to take my shower—and she showed me the bathroom. I reached for the corner where she left her clothes, unbuttoned my shirt, and also pulled my trouser. I was just on my boxers. I quickly unzipped my bag and brought out my white towel. I went inside the bathroom and bolted the door. My phone served as a source of illumination. I turned the tap and was glad the shower was working. So I quickly pulled out my boxers and began to have a cool bath.

About three minutes later, it seemed I heard a knock at the door. I kept quiet to be sure I was right. Then the knock became obvious.

“Biola, is that you?”
“Yes. Please, open the door,” she busted.
I was puzzled by her demand.
“I'm not through yet. Do you want to take something?”
“No. I’m not taking anything,” she stuttered.
“Okay, so…”
“I want us to bath together, please,” she said.

I felt a lump in my throat. I was bewildered to hear Biola make such a ridiculous request.

“Femi, please, I have long craved for this. Don’t say no,” she said and paused.
It became obvious Biola wasn’t joking. I was awestruck. I didn’t want to do any of these with Biola. One voice was telling me to ignore her while another voice was countering it, saying, it’s part of pregnancy cravings. I was mute and didn’t know what to tell her.

“Femi, I know we haven’t done this before, but please, for the sake of my pregnancy, let me in,” she continued.
“Femi, this is a temptation, don’t open the door,” — a voice that rushed through my head.
Water dripped on my body while I contemplated my next line of action. It seemed I was helpless. Lots of imagination and pictures already clouded my head.

To be continued...
© Frank The Writer
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Why Femi still dey act lke kolo person?
Anyway, he is a novice in the game
He does not know that he needs to lubricate the punna as often as he can
Anyway what do I know?
Frankwriter is in charge, let us see how it goes.
Sweet popcorn for una