Faspen:
Me been thinking say that well respected thug scorpion will come to their rescue because it happen in his hood

Another splendid line of reasoning. Thanks for sharing your thought, Faspen. Fingers crossed.

YINKS89:
at dis junction yemi needs to kom to deir aide again or else all hell wld let loose... Bt I suspect scorpion shld b able to retrieve d money.

Good thoughts too, Yinks89. Thank you for sharing your thoughts too.

phoenixchap:
Jameskudooski abeg I nor read again jhoor all these troubles for one person... It's too much to bear bikonu

Aw, Phoenixchap! The wise men say, 'No pain, no gain.' thanks for expressing your feelings.

phoenixchap:
Jameskudooski abeg I nor read again jhoor all these troubles for one person... It's too much to bear bikonu

Aw, Phoenixchap! The wise men say, 'No pain, no gain.' Thanks for expressing your feelings.

Mi have arrived for the next episode oo.

YINKS89:
Mi have arrived for the next episode oo.

Wow! Thanks to everyone who shared their thoughts, emeraldlife, Yinks89, Faspen, and phoenixchap. You shared nice perspectives to the storyline.

But, here's what actually happened...

JamesKudooski:
Wow! Thanks to everyone who shared their thoughts, emeraldlife, Yinks89, Faspen, and phoenixchap. You shared nice perspectives to the storyline.

But, here's what actually happened...

Can you sell the complete story to me for #200 ?

EPISODE 13
(CHAPTER FIVE)


“HA! HA! HA! HA!” THE ROBBERS LAUGHED as they zoomed off the scene. They had made a big kill for the day and they were very happy about it.

“Ol’ boy, that dough na 200K. I see am with my korokoro eyes. We don hammer today,” the one who snatched the bag said grinning from ear to ear.

“Maga don pay ... Oya shout Halleluyah,” the rider sang. “See, if we fit dey do this kain business two times for one week, ol’ boy, we don arrive be dat. We go even build house sharp sharp,” he added.

“Guy, you are mouthed,” his partner guffawed as he replied. He then added, “Guy, do sharp sharp make we comot for here o. You know say dis place no be our area.”

They were approaching an inception.

“True talk. You make sense ...” The words had barely left his lips when a powerful bike rammed into them from the side at an incredible speed and knocked them to the ground. Their bike skidded off several meters away with a squealing noise. It smoked and let out sparks of light as it grazed the ground. The robbers were tossed high up into the air and on landing on the ground, they summersaulted and rolled off distance away. Blood covered their bruised arms and faces. They groaned. The pain was indescribable.

The daredevil who knocked them down screeched to a halt. He walked slowly and deliberately to the robbers who were yet to fully recover from the crash. They watched in agony as each step got closer in what seemed like a slow-motion. He soon stood imposingly over them and signalled to them with his forefinger to get up. He said no word. He didn’t have to. His mean face said it all. The scared robbers gawked at his feet. The look slowly climbed up his body. And by the time their eyes settled on his hard face, they cringed in fear. Their manliness melted away like ice cream exposed to fire. They began to whimper. His face was scary. A deep machete scar decorated the left side. His half-shut eyes were as red as the devil’s and his lips as dark as hell--it was Scorpion, the Nemesis of Molesters!

Truly, nemesis caught up with them on that day. After Scorpion finished with them, he was sure that they would never again rob anyone in what was left of their miserable lives. Even if they somehow had the motivation to do after healing from the wounds, he was convinced that he had incapacitated them to the point that they would never be physically fit to carry out such feats ever again!

He picked up the bag, started his bike and rode off.

Few minutes later, he arrived at Pink Roses where Simisola and Ngozi were brooding over their loss.

“Does that look like your handbag, Simi?” he tossed the bag to Simisola.

The bag landed at her feet. She picked it up and opened it in a rush. She saw that the money was still intact. She screamed for joy and jumped at Scorpion who caught her in a warm embrace.

“Thank you so much, Scorpion,” She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I’m so grateful.” After Scorpion put her down, she looked at him quizzically and asked, “But how?”

“I saw the bastards when they snatched your bag and I intercepted them. Well, I don’t think they will ever do that again anyway,” he explained in his guttural voice.

Simisola, Ngozi, and everyone else vividly understood the final part of his statement; they knew he must had dealt with them in ways unimaginable.

“So, what did you do them?” Ngozi was curious.

“Omo Ibo, nothing serious.” He flattened his lips. “I just taught them a small lesson. That’s all. Just crushed jaws, three or so broken ribs each, and I had to break their hands so they won’t be able to handle a bike or snatch a bag ever again,” he replied casually as if it was nothing.

“Ah, Scorpion! You called all that small lesson? And what if it was a big lesson, nko? What would have happened?” Simisola reacted, alarmed by his response.

Scorpion just let out a broad smile and shrugged his shoulders.

To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

alphacyborg:


Can you sell the complete story to me for #200 ?

Hmmmm... Alphacyborg, that means you just got yourself a 60% discount. Let's me know when you are ready to buy.

JamesKudooski:



Hmmmm... Alphacyborg, that means you just got yourself a 60% discount. Let's me know when you are ready to buy.

Can I have your number so I can send it as airtime tomorrow morning ?

alphacyborg:


Can I have your number so I can send it as airtime tomorrow morning ?

You can get it on Okadabooks. Just let me know whenever you are ready tomorrow morning. You will get it at that price.

JamesKudooski:


You can get it on Okadabooks. Just let me know whenever you are ready tomorrow morning. You will get it at that price.

Thank you

EPISODE 14
(CHAPTER FIVE)

Ajele Village, Simisola’s Parents’ Residence.

Iya Afusa and her gang arrived at the Fatundes’ residence. She had succeeded in talking the other women into unleashing violence on getting there because she was certain that Simisola’s mother wouldn’t have gotten the money. As a result, the women came prepared for vandalism with sticks and clubs in hand.

When Simisola’s mother heard their noise, she walked out to meet them confidently. Her confidence disarmed the women that they lost control of the situation. She smiled and addressed them:

“My friends, ah-ah! What is this? The situation has not gotten bad to the point of coming to my house with sticks and clubs as if I were a criminal. Is it not the money you came for? Well, you won’t have to use your ‘weapons’ on anybody. Your money is ready.”

On hearing that, the women became even more unsettled and looked at each other in amazement.

“Are you saying that you have our money? All of it?” asked one of the women in disbelief.

“Liar! How could she have gotten N150,000.00 within such a short time when we all know how hard times are right now? She’s lying.” Iya Afusa countered.

“So, you now know that times are hard, Iya Afusa? You are a very wicked woman!” Simisola’s mother snapped at her almost poking her finger into her eye. “Well, like I said, your money is ready,” she added, pointing to the black polythene bag in her hand. She began to bring out the money from the bag for confirmation.

Iya Afusa was dumbfounded. “Ah, it is true ooo. She has the money really,” she admitted in shame.

“So, can we sit down like gentle women and settle the accounts? I don’t think we need sticks and clubs to count money. Do we?” Simisola’s mother said sarcastically.

The women looked at each other and dropped their weapons in shame. They were still counting the money when they started hearing a loud noise from the distance. It sounded like the commotion of an angry mob who had just caught a thief.

The women stopped what they were doing and strained their ears towards the direction of the noise. The noise got closer and louder. They heard the cries and pleas of about four men who evidently were in pains. Their voices were drowned in a much louder noise of a mob singing at the top of their voices, “Oju ole re ... ole! Oju ole re ... ole!” which when transliterated meant, ‘Here are the faces of thieves ... thieves!’ It was a song usually sung for thieves when caught. The women exchanged glances completely lost. Then the scene came to their full view. Iya Afusa was the first to react. She sprang to her feet at once. The pack of money in her hands dropped to the ground. Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged out of their sockets! It was as if she just saw a demon. But what she saw was no demon!

Those crying and begging were Adelaja (her wayward son) and his gang. They had gone to burgle another house when the village’s vigilante group caught them. They had confessed to the crime and several other ones in the village including the burgling of Simisola’s mother’s house and the different goats, sheep, and chickens that had been missing in the village. The four men were in bad shape. The stench of fresh blood covered the air. They had been mercilessly gashed by the aggrieved mob. Their faces were covered in blood and gore. The vigilante group--the village’s police force--had not been able to fully prevent the angry villagers, who were bent of lynching them to death, from inflicting them with gory injuries.

Iya Afusa threw her hands in the air. She shouted, “Ye! Mo ku ooo. Adelaja ti pa mi ooo!” (Ye! I’m dead ooo. Adelaja has killed me ooo!). Her wrapper flew away revealing her underskirt. One of the women quickly picked up the wrapper and covered her up. Iya Afusa dropped on her knees and crawled to the vigilante chief. She held his legs and begged in tears, “Baba Asipa, please sir. I plead for them.”

Chief Asipa pushed her away. “Woman, I cannot help your son and his friends.” He shook his head vigorously. “They have really caused too many atrocities in this village for me to let them go. Ask them and let them tell you with their own mouths what they have done.” He dragged Adelaja, the leader of the group, forward and slapping him hard across the face, he ordered him, “Oya talk. Tell them all that you and your friends have been doing.”

Iya Afusa winced at the sound of the slap. She begged further, “Baba, di ẹ́ di ẹ́. Ìyẹ́n tí pọ ju.” (Baba, please take it easy. That was too much.)

Adelaja started narrating all the crimes they had committed in the village and the sorrounding villages. The magnitude of their crimes got the crowd and Iya Afusa’s cohorts hooting, “Aaah!”, “Ooooh!”, “Ehn-ehn!” as Adelaja and friends recounted each crime. At a point, the culprits started trading blames that lead to a fight amongst them. It took the lashing koboko (whips made from dried animal skin) of the vigilantes to separate them.

Iya Afusa bit her fingers and scolded her son amidst her cry, “Adelaja ... I warned you several times about your association ... I told you that your bad company would land you in trouble someday ... Can you see your life now?”

Simisola’s mother there upon faced Iya Afusa and her group, “Can you see? It was even your thief of a son that broke into my house and stole the money that you, Iya Afusa, had mobilized these women against me to cause me pain and humiliation several times over. I am pressing charges. We shall take this matter to the king.”

At that, Iya Afusa knelt at the feet of Simisola’s mother and begged, “Iya Simisola, please don’t let us do that. Let’s settle the matter here, please. I will pay back the association’s money. You can keep your money, please.”

“Well, woman,” Chief Asipa cut in, “This is not a case of Iya Simisola pressing charges or not. These are crimes against the village and it is our duty to prosecute the criminals whether anybody is pressing charges or not. So, we are taking them to the king’s palace. We just wanted you to know what your son and his friends had been up to before taking them to the king for judgment. That’s why we brought them here when we learnt you were here; to cause trouble I suppose.”

“Ah, Baba Asipa, please tamper justice with mercy.”

“Your son’s case is very bad, woman. Apart from committing all the crimes, he confessed to, the graver crime is that he brought outsiders from other villages to commit atrocities in our village. Everybody knows that this is a great crime in our village.”

“Ah! Adelaja has killed me completely o. Please just go and bury me,” Iya Afusa wailed more as she threw herself to the ground.

“We all know the laws of our land,” the vigilante chief continued, “We know that anyone caught committing these crimes shall be given 200 lashes of koboko before being sent to jail!

On hearing that, Iya Afusa rolled on the ground. She knew d horror of receiving 50 strokes of the dreaded koboko let a lone 200. Her wrapper fell off again but none of her friends made any move to cover her up this time. They had distanced themselves; nobody wanted to be associated with the mother of a thief. She begged harder. Chief Asipa thought for sometime.

“Well woman, what I can do for your son and friends is that I can plead for them to be given 199 lashes instead of 200.” Chief Asipa said with the body language of someone who had granted a huge concession.

“Aaaaahhh, 199 lashes!!!” the crowd squinched and cupped their faces in their hands as if they just watched the actual whipping.

At that, the vigilante chief gave the order and his boys dragged the culprits to the king’s palace.


To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

alphacyborg:


Thank you

You are welcome, Alphacyborg.

Nice update... Kip it up man

[quote author=labvick post=66783704][/quote]

Hello Labvick, thank you for your interest in the book. The book is N500 on Okadabooks. However here's my digits: 08028460247.

Jameskudooski. Good work, the story is turning out better than I expected though I foresee further trouble but I believe simisola can survive them with yemi's true intentions.

Good job again Op

nice episode!.... 199 lashes!!! heheheh
team #yemisimisola



jameskudooski.......

phoenixchap:
Jameskudooski. Good work, the story is turning out better than I expected though I foresee further trouble but I believe simisola can survive them with yemi's true intentions.

Good job again Op

Thanks again, phoenixchap. I quite agree with you.

joromi36:
nice episode!.... 199 lashes!!! heheheh

team #yemisimisola




jameskudooski.......

Wow, Joromi! I love this your Big Brother Naija style ooo.

Up team #yemisola

This is one of the best story i've seen here

abubakarbabang7:
This is one of the best story i've seen here

Thanks abubakarbabang7, I'm happy you are enjoying the story.

EPISODE 15
(CHAPTER SIX)


Back in Lagos, Monday Morning.


Yemi woke up with feelings of inner peace and happiness that came from deep inside. The feelings surprised even him. He began to wonder what could be responsible for the feelings. He racked his brains to remember any good news or extraordinary encounter he had in the past two days. But there was none.

Instead, the past four days had been a period of internal conflict and confusion. So, the plausible reason for his state of mind eluded him. It was when he realized that he unconsciously lingered in front of the mirror and took more time than necessary in deciding what to wear--that inner urge of wanting to look one’s best--that it dawned on him that the joyous feeling might not be unconnected with the fact that he was seeing Simisola today. Upon that realization, he paused, sighed heavily and sat down on his bed. He buried his face into his palms.

He remembered vividly how he felt after what he did at Pink Roses on Thursday while driving home. He had felt very happy and satisfied that he made the move. He had seen the Hidden Beauty face-to-face and had been blown away by her ethereal beauty which was more disarming in person than in the pictures. She was cultured and appealed to his senses. He had felt like an angel of love touched him at that instance. That night, he had dreamt about nobody else, nothing else but her and the attraction had grown stronger.

But by the time he woke up the following morning, all that had changed! It was then the implications of his action fully dawned on him. He started to wonder what the hell he was thinking to have walked into a salon of a bunch of local ladies and pulled the stunt he did simply because he allowed his imagination to run untameably wild. He almost slapped himself for it. How could he have ever thought of going out with a local girl? How could he present such a girl to his highly opinionated mother? The gap between them was too wide in every imaginable way. Here was someone at the bottom of the pyramid and he was so stupid to feel that he could change all that by asking her out!

At the same time, he still found it hard to explain what force it was that pulled him into the shop on that day. It was as if he had no control of his limbs. ‘Maybe God just wanted to use me to take care of her pressing need at that moment in time.’ He had concluded within himself. After thinking hard about everything, he had concluded that there was no point starting what he might not be able to finish. Hence, he had decided to truncate any further desire to start a relationship with the poor ghetto girl. He would still take her to the bank nonetheless to open the account as promised but that would be the end of it. With that conviction, he had shut out every thought of Simisola, the Hidden Beauty, from his mind!

However, the long hands of love was not yet done with him. By the time he slept on Friday night, he found himself wandering into dreamland once again hand-in-hand with Simisola! The feeling came back again. And it was so elating that he wished he didn’t wake up. He had to admit despite himself that dreaming about Simisola brought him much happiness and pleasure but it didn’t seem right. As a result, he found himself sinking in a catch-22. When it looked like the confusion was going to split his head in two, he had called his best friend, Yinka. Hours later they had hooked up at Shooters Club and Bar, where they normally hung out. He had explained his ordeal to Yinka as they enjoyed their favourite brands of beer. Like words on marble, Yinka’s statement that evening had stuck indelibly to his heart.

Yinka had told him, “Guy, who says True Love has any particular address? Or is there anybody who can tell you where True Love resides? I bet, not even Shakespeare or Aristotle with all his philosophical wisdom can tell you.” He had taken a sip of his glass of beer and continued, “Friend, if your True Love is in the ghetto, then go for it, man!”

“Hmmm ... Who says True Love has any particular address?” Yemi had nodded slowly as he repeated the words to himself.

Yemi had always referred to Yinka as The Philosopher and had called him Aristotle several times but never had anything he said in the past made such an impression on him as this one.

“But mum would prefer Nicole or at least someone in her league.” Yemi had added with a forlorn expression.

“Hmmm ... Nicole, your TV presenter childhood friend? Good call! Well, nice chick, beautiful, elevated status, presentable, Lekki babe, and mum’s favorite ... Impressive resume. But let me ask you, friend, have you considered if she would give you the kind of happiness you desire?” He had taken another sip of his beer, licked his lips, and continued, “See Yemi, I have known you for a long time and never have I seen you as happy as since you started telling me about this local chick you saw her picture on one ghetto salon despite Nicole being there all along! It’s your call bro--Lekki or Agege? It’s your choice but let me remind you once more: no one can ever tell you where True Love resides. Your True Love might be in the ghetto for all you care.” Yinka had concluded. He had taken his glass and gulped down the remaining content in a swig. He belched and refilled it from the bottle of Gulder standing next to it.

Yemi saw his point. “It seems your brain works best when you are downing bottles of Gulder,” Yemi teased.

“You can say that again, mehn! There is nothing like my Guuuulder.” Yinka raised the bottle of Gulder up to his eyes level and stared at it admiringly and continued, “Yemi, have I ever told you the meaning of Gulder?”

“G uide U s L ord D uring E very R ound of Gulder! You have told me a million times over,” Yemi replied and they both laughed.

“Yeah! You got it. Your head is there, mehn.”

Yemi had gotten home later that evening thinking about Yinka’s statement that was fast becoming his motto. But his mum had called that night and had nagged his head off with talks about Nicole and how she was the best for him. That had shot him into another bout of perplexity and stifled any enthusiasm towards Simisola. Therefore, he had decided to use Sunday to clear his head. He had tried as much as possible not to think about Simisola either positively or negatively. And he succeeded in doing so.

Fast forward to today, Yemi had woken up with an incredible feeling of happiness that he couldn’t initially explain until he discovered it was connected with Simisola. Perhaps, True Love had decided to pitch its tent at the ghetto this time around!

He stood up, got dressed, picked up his car keys, and left.


To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

EPISODE 16
(CHAPTER SIX)



Pink Roses Beauty Shop.

By the time Yemi got to Pink Roses, Simisola was already set. Scorpion too had taken his position somewhere not far from the shop. When Yemi set eyes on Simisola, his eyes beamed, his cheeks glowed, and almost an electrical feeling surged through him. Her beauty took his breath away. He muttered impulsively as he struggled to catch his breath, “Damn! Is there anybody who can tell where True Love resides?”

Auntie Funmi had insisted that Simisola looked her best. So, on Sunday, she had told Ngozi and two others to work on Simisola’s hair. They had made her hair into One Million Braids that bounced attractively on her shoulders. And now she packed the hair into a ponytail and allowed two braids to stray freely down her temple. She wore a peach gown with matching pair of shoes. Her makeup was moderate but alluring and her perfume was inexpensive but pretty pleasant. She was simply gorgeous, to say the least. Yemi would definitely be proud to walk by her side.

She smiled at Yemi who had not fully recovered from the stunning effect her beauty had on him. “Good morning, Mr Yemi. You are welcome, sir.” Simisola greeted him.

“Good morning, Angel. Damn, you look gorgeous!” Yemi responded as he followed her into the shop. He greeted Auntie Funmi and the other ladies.

“Good morning, sir, they all replied at once. “You are welcome, Brother Oyinbo,” Ngozi added.

“Brother Oyinbo? Wow! That’s ridiculous. Yemi laughed.” He turned to Simisola, “Are we set?”

“Yes, sir,” She replied.

At that, they left and minutes later, they were on the road to the Iyana-Ipaja Branch of BTC Bank. Immediately the car hit the road, Scorpion followed at a considerable distance on his bike. Simisola settled herself on the soft leather seat that welcomed her into its comfort. The interior of the Range Rover blew her mind. She had never ridden in such an automobile before. The best she had ever been in was a rickety car that was as hot as an oven. As the air conditioner flew across her face, she started enjoying the outing that had barely begun.

“Thank you for the other day, sir,” Simisola expressed her gratitude for his kind gestures days before.

“Oh, don’t mention, Simi. It’s the least I could do,” he replied and put on the stereo. A collection of foreign R & B songs starter playing and Simisola hummed along each of the songs. “Wow! So, you know these songs?”

She laughed gently and responded, “The fact that we live in the ghetto doesn’t mean that we don’t know what’s happening around the world. It will surprise you to know how much we know here in the ghetto, sir.”

“Really? Are you kidding me?”

“No, sir.”

“Wow! That’s interesting. So, how’s your mum? Hope she’s settled the issue?”

“Yes, sir and thanks to you. You saved the entire family from a serious mess.” The apple-shaped air freshener clinging to the air vent released a whiff of fragrance into the air. Simisola drew in the scintillating scent and her nose basked in pleasure. “My mum has not stopped praying for you ever since and I can tell you categorically that God hears her prayers fast.”

“Really? And what has she been asking God in my behalf?”

“That God gives you a good wife amongst others.”

“Oh, that’s a powerful one. I am beginning to fall in love with your mum already. I will definitely meet her someday.” Yemi negotiated a turning.

“And what will you tell her?”

“That she stole one of God’s angel as her daughter.”

Simisola blushed shyly. The conversation was getting interesting and both of them were enjoying every bit of it.

Soon, they drove into the bank’s premises ...

To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

EPISODE 17
(CHAPTER SIX)

Soon, they drove into the bank’s premises. Yemi flashed his Exclusive Customer card and everybody began to treat him as a king there upon, starting with the security men. Simisola watched in amazement as a young smartly dressed beautiful lady in high heels ushered them into a cosy lounge tagged ‘Exclusive Lounge’.

“Tea or coffee, sir?” the lady asked.

“Coffee will be fine,” Yemi answered.

“What about you, ma?” She turned to Simisola.

“I prefer water.”

“Right away, ma.” The lady left and after a few minutes, a Tea Boy came in with a tray containing a cup of coffee and a bottle of water.

“How may I be of help, sir?” The lady asked.

“My friend here ...” he said indicating Simisola, “needs to open an account.”

“Okay, sir,” the lady replied and turning to Simisola, she asked, “Savings or Current, ma?”

Simisola was lost. She looked at Yemi quizzically. Yemi smiled and answered for her, “Savings will do.”

“I will be right back, sir.” The young lady left and came back almost immediately with the Account Opening form which she handed over to Simisola.

“Or would you prefer I fill it out for you, ma?” The lady offered.

“Don’t worry. I will fill it myself.”

Yemi was surprised at how well Simisola could write when she started filling out the form without any fuss. He had thought she would hardly be able to read lest write and would have jumped at the offer made by the young banker but she proved him wrong. In no time, she completed filling the form and gave it with the requirements to the lady who collected them and cross checked that everything was in order. She nodded her head.

“When will her account number and debit card be ready?” Yemi asked.

“Hmmm,” She checked her watch and rolled her lips momentarily. “Say in thirty minutes, sir. We now issue instant debit cards.”

“Nice. We will wait then.”

“Ma, how much would you like to open the account with?”

Simisola began to open her purse.

“And what are you doing?” Yemi stopped her.

“I still have the N50, 000. 00 balance from the cheque you gave me on Thursday.”

“Keep your money, Angel. I was the one who brought you here so let me finish what I started,” Yemi said. He then wrote a cheque and handed it over to the lady. “Please could you help cash this? Take Fifty Thousand Naira for the account and help me bring the balance.”

“Thank you, sir.” Simisola appreciated him.

“Okay, sir. I’ll be right back. Just in case you need anything, please dial ‘0’ on that phone, sir ... ” the young banker pointed to a telephone box sitting on a stool close by. “and I will be here in a jiffy.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Simisola was moved by the way everyone treated Yemi. Even though she had only been to the bank once, she could tell that Yemi was definitely a big customer of the bank. She compared her experience now with the one she and Ngozi had in the same bank, the same branch just three days earlier and she concluded that the difference was clear.

“Mr Yemi, I can see that you are a very special customer here going by the way they treat you,” Simisola noted.

“Well, let’s just say I’m simply an Exclusive Customer.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means that I operate one of their premium accounts that qualifies me to enjoy all the treatment we just received and more.”

“Wow! I want to be an Exclusive Customer when I grow up,” she teased and they both chuckled.

About twenty five minutes later, the lady came back with Simisola’s account details and a MasterCard debit card. Simisola signed the necessary registers and they left the banking hall after thanking the lady.

Yemi took her to the Automated Teller Machine (ATM) and put her through how to change her PIN (Personal Identification Number) and how to use the machine for other transactions. Simisola was very thankful. She really enjoyed her experience at the bank. The fact that one of the corporately dressed ladies whose looks had intimidated her on Friday when she came with Ngozi was at her beck and call and had called her ‘ma’ countless times made her feel on top of the world.

As they got back into the car, Simisola saw Scorpion mingling with the customers on queue for ATM withdrawals in a bid to disguise his presence. She started feeling bad. Yemi had been so nice to her that she started feeling regret over not trusting him and arranging for Scorpion to trail them. She wished she could tell Scorpion that she was in safe hands and that he could go back home but there was no way she could do that without blowing the cover.

“You surprised me back there, Simi.” Yemi’s voice interrupted her thought.

“Surprised you? How sir?”

“Sorry to say this but I didn’t know you could read and write. I wasn’t sure you could fill the form correctly. And that handwriting of yours ... Oh, damn!”

Simisola smiled. “I noticed that.”

“You did?” Yemi was taken aback.

“Yes, sir. I saw it in your eyes. And why did you think I wouldn’t be able to read and write well? Because I am a poor apprentice in a salon in the slum?”

“Um ... Um ...” Yemi was touched by her question and he felt ashamed of himself.

“Well, I dropped out of school at Junior Secondary School (J.S.S) 3 not because I was a dullard nor because I didn’t feel like going to school anymore.” Her face grew dull. “I was actually the overall best student in the ‘Junior WAEC’ in all the schools in my Local Government Area that year. In fact, nobody was able to beat the record I set for the following three years. I actually wanted to be a lawyer ...”

Yemi’s eyes grew wide and he covered his mouth with his palm in shock. “So, what happened?” He inquired.

“I had to drop out of school because my parents couldn’t afford sending me to school any longer. More so, I am the firstborn child of my parents. I have to help take care of my siblings and I can only do that if I learnt a handiwork and start earning money in time.” She twisted one of the straying braids round her finger. “I completed my apprenticeship a year ago but have to stay back at Pink Roses until I am able to save up enough money to set up my own shop.”

Yemi felt a wetness in his eyes. He was so moved by the story that he had to fight hard to hold back the tears that threatened his manliness. He berated the fact that nobody could have sponsored the education of such a promising child. “I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her lips shaped themselves into a benign smile. “Mr Yemi, you don’t have to. Do you know that I now enjoy my hairdressing work more than school?” The spark in her eyes returned. “It gives me joy that I have a job that makes people beautiful and proud of themselves. And who knows? I might not have met someone like you had I continued with school. I still read a lot though. So, don’t be surprised when you see that I know a lot of things you never imagined my little ghetto brain could handle.”

“Interesting! You are such a wonderful lady.”

For a moment Yemi was lost in thought. Seated beside him was such a cute, intelligent lady who could have been an extraordinary lawyer if she had had the opportunity. He had underestimated her level of intelligence and misjudged her ability to grasp concepts he once thought were bigger than her level of exposure. But not any longer--that was a genius seated beside him! He was sure that her Intelligence Quotient (I.Q) could be nothing short of extraordinary.

Yemi turned his head sideways and looked at her again. She was smashingly pretty in her gown. Nonetheless, he could tell that her wardrobe was poor. He wondered how mind-blowing she would look if her wardrobe was elevated a bit.

“Sir, where are we going? You’ve left the road leading to Agege behind.” Simisola’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I know. We still have one more place to visit.”

“Really? Where sir?”

“Just wait and see.”

“Okay ooo. I’m waiting ooo.”

Soon, Yemi drove into a plaza and parked in front of a high class boutique. He took Simisola inside. They shopped for all kinds of dresses, shoes, accessories, and underwear. It was a complete wardrobe makeover for Simisola. The dresses were those befitting classy ladies. Simisola felt her insides vibrate; not for fear or pain but for joy that knew no bounds. Her life had taken a 360 -degree-turn in just four days that she felt like shedding tears of joy. She remembered her parents’ prayers again--the ones said on the very day she met Yemi--and she could testify that their prayers were being answered at an alarming rate!

As they got out of the boutique with hands full of shopping bags, Yemi saw Scorpion hanging around somewhere in the parking lot. Their eyes met. And that was when the unexpected happened!

Yemi stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes darted searching all over Scorpion. He squinted. His mind did a quick re-run of the journey so far. He remembered that he had spotted Scorpion with his bike close to Pink Roses when they were leaving earlier. His rear-view mirror also caught a glimpse of him as he negotiated a turning sometime later. Yemi also recalled that he saw a bike that looked exactly like Scorpion’s when they came out of the bank though he didn’t see Scorpion himself. And now there he was standing at the parking lot!

Yemi knew something was amiss. He looked at Simisola and saw that she was squirming. His gaze raced back to Scorpion and he was also unsettled. He completed the puzzle in his head.

“What!!! Simisola, you had us trailed?! Oh, goodness! You thought I was going to kidnap you or something? Simisola, you didn’t trust me? Damn!” Yemi was furious.

“Erm ... Erm ... I’m ... sorr ... erm ...” Simisola began to stammer.

“I am disappointed in you, Simisola!!!” He dropped the bags in his hands and walked away.

The shopping bags dropped off Simisola’s hands. Her mouth dropped wide open and the muscles appeared too weak to close it back. She held her head. “What have I done?!” she questioned herself rhetorically as she stood riveted to the spot. Just few minutes ago, she was thanking God for answering her parents’ prayers to the minutest details. She was elated that her life had made a good turn but within a twinkle of an eye, all was crumbling at her very feet right under her very nose!

She looked at Scorpion who was more stunned than she was. She turned her glaze at Yemi and watched his back as he walked away. She wanted to call out after him but her lips could only twitch. She was completely morose.


To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

Wonderful Story bro

Interesting

ok