The Marriage Counsellor

My hands were sweaty in anticipation as I sat behind the mahogany desk that vested me with authority. It didn’t happen always, I didn’t get nervous over counseling sections often. I had been a marriage counselor in the church for seven years. The way it went in my church; you applied for the position, with reasons why you wanted to serve in that department of the church.
I still remembered the day I sent in my application. One moment I was cuddled up in bed with my favourite blanket and favorite Gary Chapman book, feeling floozy and lovey, the next I was considering how beautiful it would be to make a side career from being a marriage counselor. A Christian marriage counselor. I sent in an application on that whim however I would later refer to it as the spirit of God in me, conveniently forgetting a lot of things that had happened in my life that led to that flashlight moment.
My application went through and my interview was smooth; I was exactly the kind of person they needed on the team; dynamic, not-too-old, knowledgeable, zealous and passionate about relationships and God.
“I think the church has gotten to an extent where we are slack about the relationships we keep. There’s no seeing eye, no one fears God anymore to think about what they do in their relationships. God is invisible to them, we are the god they see. We are the ones to censor whatever goes on when they leave the church premises and go back to their lives out there. I am willing to give my all to make sure that there is no unequal yoking going on in church and there are no games being played behind our backs.” That was the speech that won over the Pastors who interviewed me. A speech that whenever I recalled, I always smiled, giving myself a mental high-five.
I liked to think that it was that same memorable speech that got me steadily climbing the ladder till I was made second-in-command on the Marriage Committee. Deputy Head Counselor, a title I wore with…pride. The good kind of pride, as expected. I was a Christian and pride was not a part of the fruit of the spirit.
I shuffled the papers before me, trying to look important, trying to not show how nervous I was to start this session.
“Sister Jumoke, are you okay?” it was Mrs Nike speaking. She had wide teeth I thought looked like a rabbit’s. Her makeup was always bland, a dash of talcum powder, no doubt and then lip gloss as light as vaseline applied on her thick lips. And yet she was married. It beat me how God worked. I knew I wasn’t exactly Miss World, but then again I wasn’t Miss Ugly, I didn’t have rabbit teeth and didn’t use makeup like a morgue attendant. So, what was wrong with me? I often wondered when I looked at her.
“I’m fine,” I replied, trying to pretend I appreciated her kindness. Another reason I wasn’t really comfortable with her was because she had been passed over for The Deputy Head position and it had been handed to me.
It was no secret that the position was the most envied position after the Head Counselor; the Deputy Head was powerful enough to determine if a wedding would hold in church or not. Sometimes desperate couples bombarded the Head Counselor and Deputy Counselor with ‘gifts’ while hinting on what they actually wanted from them.
Once, in my short tenure as Deputy, a sister who’d been undergoing counseling with us had approached me and offered to ‘take me shopping’ and ‘spoil’ me as ‘directed by the Holy Spirit’. The reason for this she later confessed to me was that she had discovered she was pregnant and needed my help to cover it up for her wedding to go on.
“So you’re telling me the Holy Spirit directed you to commit fornication then bribe me to help you cover up the consequences?” I asked.
“No ma…erm…please…”
“Don’t ‘ma’ me!” I yelled more annoyed at being called ma than anything. Did the position come with such salty respect or did I look that old? “It is people like you that are desecrating the house of God, tarnishing the image of Christianity.”
“No, please! I beg you…in the name of God, just help me. if we don’t get married soon, it will…the pregnancy would start showing and…my father will…please ma, just help me for God’s sake.” she was almost kneeling, her lips quivering.
“Was I there when you were doing the deed?” I asked, my voice tinged with contempt. “You dare bribe a servant of God and blame it on the Holy Spirit? Jesus Christ!”
“No…it was the…devil. Yes, the work of the devil.”
I didn’t tell her I envied her. That the real reason for my self-righteousness was because she had what I didn’t. A man to love her, to want her, to touch her. She had a baby growing inside her!
I was thirty-six, never been touched by a man, never experienced an orgasm in my lifetime. The closest I’d come to pleasure were those moments in my bathtub at home, imagining Bro Terence with my fingers groping.
Bro. Terence who was due to arrive any moment for his marriage classes to begin.
Bro. Terence, tall and good-looking whom I had wanted from the first time I heard him sing, yet he never noticed me. Whenever our paths crossed, he greeted me with a slight head bow and a ‘ma’ attached.
The first day he called me ‘ma’, I had gone home and cried myself to sleep. Was I that old, that unappealing? I wondered. Did he now see me as his mother instead of as a woman?
I wasn’t much older than him for Chrissakes! And looking at his file before me now, I saw he was even a year older than I was. How. Dare. He. Ma. Me!
“Ahem.” the sound snapped me out of my semi-trance.
I looked up. The couple was just entering.
My eyes drank in Bro. Terence, dressed in a white U.S.A T-shirt and jeans with blue sneakers, giving him a casual but ‘hot’ look. His haircut was the same; adult punk. He had well-shaped fingers that I often imagined in my lonely nights, dancing across my thighs, squeezing my nipples.
Fingers I wanted to kiss.
Sighing, I shifted my gaze to the lady. Sister Angela was her name in the file but when I saw her, something in me snapped.
****
More than a decade ago, I had been in love with a wonderful man. Or so I thought.
Tunji was my first and so far, only love. I was a new convert, a babe in the faith when he’d approached me. He was the Brothers Coordinator of the fellowship, the crush of every sister. Tall, handsome, Holy Ghost filled and tongue-tongueing.
I was no exception. I fell hard when he came to me.
“I see you in my future,” he’d said as we sat in the school’s Love Garden one evening.
My heart raced. I knew God had promised me a husband if I followed Him diligently but I didn’t know it would happen so fast…I was barely six months in the faith.
“You’ re special Jummy,” he continued, his fingers entwining mine. “You and I together, can fulfill purpose.”
The word ‘purpose ‘ rang in my head. We’d been talking a lot about that in church recently, how we had to find the purpose we were on earth. We were studying Rick Warren’s The Purpose -Driven Life at the time.
“What do you think?” he asked, turning his dreamy eyes on me.
“I…I’ll think about it.” I replied.
“Think, but not too much. Praying is more important.”
I blushed then. Could life get any better?
I did neither praying nor thinking, instead I fantasized. Whenever we were in church, I would stare at the back of his head thinking :
“He chose me! Out of all these sisters, he came to me!”

We started dating a month later and it wasn’t difficult to imagine him in my future. A future we spent every second planning for, we would sit on his bed in his room, leaning against each other, talking, naming kids we didn’t have, discussing in-laws we hadn’t met.
The crown of it all was he never made a move towards sex. When we first began, he had held my hands, looked me in the eye and said;
“I will not touch you inappropriately Jummy. I respect you and would want to see where God takes us with this relationship.”
I knew how many sisters in the fellowship lamented about their boyfriends and how they demanded for sex, I remembered the many nights I thanked God for the man I had.
We were three years into our relationship when Toke joined the fellowship. Toke, who looked good in mini skirts or Mary-Amakas. She didn’t have to wear mini skirts to be every brother’s fantasy, all she had to do was just be her. And then she had the charisma of Margaret Thatcher. She was outspoken, the kind who could stand up in church and give a word of prophecy without balking.
I didn’t think much of her at first, until she was made the sister’s coordinator few months after she joined. Tunji had just graduated then but was called back as an alumni to give a three day seminar to incoming excos.
Perhaps I should have seen it coming, but I did not. Soon, Tunji was spending less time with me and more time elsewhere.
It wasn’t long before he told me it wasn’t working between us.
“What do you mean it’s not working?” I asked, almost hysterical. I had given him my all, for the future he promised.
“I mean, I think God is leading me elsewhere. I don’t want to hurt you, Jummy,” he had the good grace to look contrite.
“The same God who led you to me, made a mistake before? Or did you just see someone with wider hips and decide you’d fulfill purpose better with her?” Even then, I knew somehow that there was someone else.
I didn’t know it was Toke until three months after we broke up. I was still depressed, dressing like a homeless person. I saw them leaving the cinema together, laughing and holding each other.
I turned and walked away, not wanting to be seen.

Toke’s face was forever etched in my memory.
And now I’m looking in a face; Angela’s face, and I see it’s none other than Toke. Toke, the one who’d taken Tunji from me, had done same to Terrence.
How had Terrence found her? Of all the women in our church, why had he gone outside and picked this relationship wrecker?
I stared at her, checking to see if she recognized me. I didn’t expect her to anyway, I was faceless to her. She had never bothered to know whose man she was stealing when she did.
Looking at her now, she hadn’t changed much. Yes, she was older, but she still had that slutty-sisterly quality about her. I could see why men would be attracted to her.
I zoned out as I listened to the remaining counselors ask them questions. I looked at Bro Terrence and saw Tunji. Tunji, who I gave three years of my life to and suddenly couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Tunji who had made me become obsessed with relationships and what went wrong with them. Tunji who made me take up this position as marriage counselor, because the only way I could see myself being a part of any marriage was by doing what I did. Being an outsider looking in. Years had gone by, I was thirty-six; an old maid and the best I had done was masturbate myself to sleep.
And then it occurred to me at that moment; who was I keeping myself for? It had stopped being about God a long time ago, everything about my life was no longer about God. It was fake, God was the facade I used to hide my flaws.
The reason I had wanted to become a counselor was not because of God, the reason I obstructed weddings and refused to budge when bribed was not because I was noble; it was because I was powerful. I loved the power, I loved knowing that I had the fate of a couple in my hands. Like now.
It was time to crush Toke and Terence.
I looked up, smiling in my heart;
“Are you a virgin?” I asked, directing the question at Toke, who sat cross-legged in her knee-length skirt.
She blinked, then glanced at Terrence.
I could feel the eyes of my colleagues on me. This was not part of the script.
“Please answer the question, sister.” I prodded.
“I…I don’t see how that’s relevant,” she said, mild irritation showing in her voice.
“Do you want to marry this man or not?” I asked, unfazed.
“Yes.”
“Then answer.”
“No, I’m not,” she mumbled.
“Have you ever been pregnant?”
This time there was an audible sound from my colleagues. Toke was looking at me, frozen.
“Why are you asking her that?” Mrs Adejumo passed a note to me.
“As the spirit leads.” I replied.
Infact, it was no spirit. When Tunji had jilted me for Toke years ago, I had made it a mission to keep tabs on their lives, especially Toke.
I knew she had gotten pregnant at some point in their relationship; that she had gotten rid of the baby was a tidbit that I had happened upon by chance. The doctor who had performed the abortion was a friend of my sister’s.
“Angie, please answer,” I saw Terence nudge her.
“You want to marry this man, don’t you? ” I asked again. “The key to a happy marriage is communication. It is getting rid of all secrets before you walk down the aisle.”
There was a pleading look in her eyes as she looked at me. Her lips quivered as she said;
“Yes, I have.”
From the look on Terence’s face, I knew he had no idea. Strike one.
“What happened to the baby?” I continued.
Terrence was staring at her, like he was seeing her for the first time.
“I…I don’t have to answer that. It’s…private,” she stuttered.
By now, everyone was curious, waiting in hushed silence.
“Let me help you answer it then. You had an abortion, yes? During which your womb was damaged. Sister Toke, you can’t have children, can you?” I didn’t blink as I let the words leave my mouth.
There was a gasp from somewhere in the room.
Terrence stood abruptly, his face a mirror of the pain I felt years ago. Strike two.
“Is that true?” he bellowed, turning to her.
“Terry, please. Just…just hear me out…please…” she stood too, a hand on his arm. Tears streaming down her face.
“And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t tell me! God! I can’t handle this right now!” With that Terence stormed out of the room.
Toke glanced at me once, pain and anger written all over her face.
“You think I don’t remember you? You exposed yourself the moment you called me Toke. No wonder Tunji left you! No wonder you’re still alone after all these years! Your heart is wicked!” with that she rushed out after Terence.
Her words sank into me like water into a sponge.
Strike three and…out.

Mimi. A.

The Club Of God-Fearing Men- 10

She picked on the first ring, like she had been waiting for the call.
For an instant, Genesis was caught off-guard.
“Finally!” she spoke, almost breathless. “Hello, who’s this?”
“I…um…this is Genesis from…”
“Ah, Genesis! I need a favour from you immediately, please! Do you stay anywhere around Opebi?”
He didn’t understand what was going on, but he replied, “Erm…yeah. I stay somewhere around Berger.”
Her sigh of relief was audible. “Good. Please, I need you.”
“Excuse me, but do you know who you’re speaking with?” He asked, befuddled.
“Genesis, yeah? Stalker dude with the weird name from Grace Assembly and then the club?” her words came out sounding like full-stops. Like she was fighting to be cordial yet abrupt; like she was talking to a 911 operative.
“Well, yes…no. I mean…”
He was no stalker dammit.
“Which is it please?”
“Yes, I am that Genesis.”
“Please I need your help…just…come over, please. Here’s my address.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond as she rattled off the address.
“When you get to the gate, just call me,” she said, with a finality that he could not argue.
Genesis wanted to ask if she was crazy, if she knew what time of the night it was. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t coming.
Instead, he said okay and hung up.
He did not think about it as he hurried into his clothes. There was nothing to think about, his brain wasn’t going to process anything about the situation at this moment so he figured his best bet was to get to her place and figure this whole thing out.
As he drove out of his compound, it occurred to him that she hadn’t bothered to know how he would find his way to her place. What if he didn’t own a car?
It was Sunday night, the roads were free and in ten minutes, he arrived at her gate.
As soon as he called to inform her of his presence, he saw the gate parting to let him in. In the dimness of his car lights, he saw her. She was carrying something.
He watched her struggle with the gate with one hand, while using the other to support the bundle she was carrying.
He stepped out of the car towards her.
“Leave it. I’ll open it,” he said, taking over.
She nodded and he noticed she was perspiring. Her feet were bare, like she had rushed out not caring.
What was going on?
He drove in and closed the gate behind him. By the time he was out of the car, she was standing on the porch.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“Come in. I need you to help me with the girls.”
She turned to enter the house and Genesis saw her stumble, instinctively he reached out to steady her and his hand brushed against her skin. He recoiled.
She was burning hot.
“Jesus! You’re burning up!” he exclaimed, stretching his hand to take the bundle, which turned out to be one of the girls, from her.
“I’ll be fine. She’s worse.”
And yes she was; the little girl’s body seemed to be prickling with heat.
“You’re all sick?” he asked, following her into the house.
“Talk later. I need to get a wet towel to calm her temperature down. Would you do that for me, please?”
Genesis thought she looked terrible, she was almost swaying on her feet and there were bags under her eyes.
“Sure. Where do I get water and the towel?”
She pushed a small pink towel into his free hand and pointed him in the direction of what he surmised was the guest bathroom.
“Just keep dabbing her body with it. I have to attend to Amber.”
He didn’t ask questions; instead, cradling the whimpering girl in his arms, he set to work.
He didn’t see her again for another thirty minutes, mostly because he was busy with the girl and he didn’t bother looking up to know her mother’s whereabouts.
“You’d be fine, honey,” he whispered, over again to the child. Sometimes he found himself muttering soothing words he couldn’t remember, words whose origin he couldn’t fathom.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Abbey’s voice startled him from behind.
“It’s better than before,” he replied, touching the girl’s neck.
“Okay. I need to give her Paracetamol. Give her to me.”
“You can’t handle any more tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll carry her.” With that he lifted the child and carried her back to the living room.
He laid her on the couch, placing the damp towel on her forehead.
“Which one are you?” he asked, hoping to get her to talk.
She sniffed, blinking. “Augusta,” her voice cracked with unshed tears.
“Beautiful name for a princess. Augusta, you will stop crying now, okay? By tomorrow morning, you would be up and running, promise.”
Her nod was barely visible.
Abbey knelt beside him, touching her fingertips to her daughter’s face.
“Star baby, mummy’s gonna give you your drugs now and then pray for you. And then you’re gonna sleep and wake up tomorrow, good as new, okay?”
Genesis glanced at her, admiring the cheerfulness and hope in her voice. One he was sure she didn’t feel.
“Mummy…I’m afraid,” her voice was small as she spoke.
“Oh my baby, afraid of what?” Abbey was sitting now, a tremor in her voice.
“What if…what if…I don’t wake up tomorrow?”
The sheer simplicity of her question tore at Genesis heart and without thinking he said;
“Of course you will wake up tomorrow. Or don’t you want to see my handsome face again? Remember I promised you a treat when you get well?”
His heart warmed at the semi-smile that formed at the corner of her mouth.
“Okay…but my sister will come with us too.” She said, still in her soft voice.
“Deal.” He gave her a small tap on her hand.
*******

The next time he checked the clock, it was half past midnight and that was when he had the opportunity to actually settle down with Abbey.
After administering her meds, Star had drifted to sleep almost immediately but Amber had needed more attention because she had been having difficulty breathing all night as a result of her asthma.
After some struggle, she had finally drifted to sleep and Genesis had helped tuck both girls in.
It was when he and Abbey both slumped on the couch in the living room that he realised how much time had gone by.
“You don’t know what you’ve done for me, Genesis,” Abbey began, running her fingers through her weave. “I owe you big.”
She looked tired, like she had just been through a marathon. Despite the chilly air in the living room, she still had beads of sweat formed on her nose. It was then he noticed she was still fully dressed in one of her customary turtle necks.
“You should take a cold bathe. Your temperature was a bit on the high side when I came in,” he said. It occurred to him that there was nothing suggestive about his suggestion. It was something he would say to an old friend. The thought of it made him smile inwardly.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” she said.
“At least get rid of the turtleneck,” he said. “We don’t want you sick too.”
“Genesis, I said I’m fine, okay?” she snapped.
He nodded, standing. “I think I’ll take my leave now, ma’am.”
She shuffled to her feet too, her hand reaching out to touch him. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit strung out. You’ve really been a God-send. It’s late, you should stay…”
Under different circumstances, Genesis would not have hesitated to take her up on her offer, but it crossed his mind that she was probably asking out of courtesy, not because she really wanted him there. After all, she had used him, what more did she need him for?

And so he shook his head.
“I should leave.” He didn’t wait for her to protest; instead he took long strides to the door, closing it softly behind him, he let the darkness embrace him.
To Be Continued…
Mimi A.

My Spring

Hey dear readers, you know how I love to keep y’all entertained, so I’m trying out this new idea to see if it works. The story is written by Dike Nsoedo, a friend and an excellent writer whom I’ve featured here before. His works have appeared on Naijastories, The Nukan Niche and The Naked Convos, to name a few. To read his story,please click on the image above and return to give your feedback here. Trust me, you’d enjoy it.

Thank you all!

The Club Of God- Fearing Men- 5

Genesis week was usually busy; living in Lagos had taught him to be quick on his feet. He left home most mornings before 6 am so he could make it to his office on or before 8 am and even though he usually closed work by 5pm, he didn’t usually get home till sometime around 7pm depending on what day of the week it was.

So it was little wonder that during the week he had little or no time to socialize, well, apart from flirting with the ladies that worked with him, people whom he tired of seeing their work-hardened faces every day, he had no other means to sate his natural affinity to women.

Which was why he looked forward to weekends; Fridays were usually eventful for him. He and the boys hung out at any club they chose; drinking, talking, laughing and he usually left the club with a woman on his arm and if she was lucky, in his bed.

Some of them made it to his arm, but ended up in the restroom stall or the back of his car, depending on how drunk she was. He was a man who liked to be in control; as much as he liked the women, picking up women when drunk wasn’t his thing.

In fact, getting drunk or stoned wasn’t his thing, generally. That was more Tango’s thing. He wondered how his friend still kept his body fit for the modeling jobs he did.

This Friday, they had agreed to try out a club/bar/whatchamacallit. Among the quartet; only he and Chris had cars of their own. Tango didn’t like driving, he said he preferred the adrenaline rush that came from jumping into Danfo buses and he was more likely to meet women in transit than from the comfort of a private car. They would think he was a serial killer or something if he tried picking them up; yes, his body could be bad news like that.

Genesis often wondered if Tango’s mum had birthed him through the right part of her body, because the things he said and did were like he was from another planet.

Sly, on the other hand, was saving up to buy a land which according to him, was on the top of his priority list.

Apparently, he had a phobia for living in rented houses because of what he and his family had suffered when he was still little. His one obsession was to become a landlord soon.

“Being a landlord can mean just owning your land. That’s the first step. If I have my own land now, I can open canopy there and be sleeping under and nobody will disturb me. That option is still better than living in some ugly, hungry pot-bellied man’s house.”

They arrived at the bar in twos, Genesis picked up Sly from Maryland on his way from work and Chris picked Tango up from his latest modeling company. They had agreed to do a small briefing on Operation Nail a Spirikoko Woman that evening.

Genesis wasn’t much looking forward to it mostly because he hadn’t yet found the woman, he had tossed Abbey’s card inside one of his jacket pockets when he got home from church that Sunday.

He had made up his mind, she was no-go area. A widow and a single mum? C’mon, he wasn’t looking to start a charity organization here. He’d find someone else; he had after all seen some prospective women at that Grace Assembly church on Sunday. Abbey could go to hell, for all he cared.

They arrived at the club early. It was just 9pm and on a Friday night, the club was supposed to be vomiting human beings like a volcanic eruption.

Genesis loved it. The mesh of bodies grinding against each other on the dance floor, the opportunities to grope and cop a feel without being labeled a pervert. Heck, he’d had women grab his ass on the dance floor and pretend it was a mistake; baby, please make that mistake often, he always thought.

Tonight though, he took one look at the setup of the club and knew this was not a regular club.

He turned to Chris since he had been the one to suggest this place; “Guy wetin be dis na? Dem get live band for hia!”

“That’s the beauty, Gen.” Chris was a teacher in a secondary school and avoided speaking pidgin so much because he said it affected him while teaching at school. He knew an English teacher who had been fired because she slipped in pidgin while she taught her class. “No be every time pesin go listen to pirated music. Trust me, their bar here na wa.”

Genesis sighed. Of all his friends, Chris was the softest and most loveable. He had a big heart that Genesis often envied. While the rest of them ran after women just for the heck of it, Chris actually cared. Women are to be treated like treasure chests, he often said in a melancholic tone.

It was no surprise, he had five sisters. He was probably hoping that if he treated the girls he met nicely, some other dude would do the same for his sisters.

“Una dey dull pesin. Abeg I need a drink,” with that Tango pushed past them and headed towards the bar.

“If we needed live band eh, Chris, we for go church. Dem plenty for dia.” Sly punched him playfully and followed behind Tango.

“Drink?” Chris asked Genesis as they scouted around for seats.

“Vodka and juice. Make I go find table,” both men parted ways.

Genesis particularly liked the twirling multi-coloured lights. He also liked the fact that the club had an outdoor setting. The platform for the live band was sheltered in a small brown alcove with dazzling lights. The dance floor was a few paces away from the platform.

He patted his pocket as he settled into a table with four chairs. Friday nights were usually so crazy that if you were too drunk or too careless, they’d pick everything off you; your phone, wallet, ATM cards, every damn thing.

His first attempt at clubbing had been like that, he had gone with an older friend who had promised to pay for everything. The friend’s pocket had been picked while two girls draped themselves over him, with boobs ogling at him. Genesis remembered sneaking out of the club when he realized what had happened.

“Oya, hafar?” his friends had returned, each nursing a drink. Chris handed a glass to him and Genesis downed it, grateful for the chill as it travelled down his throat.

“Any luck?” Sly continued. “I don see church, see babe join sef.”

Genesis listened with rapt attention as Sly recounted his escapades. Genesis could tell that Sly’s church tilted more towards RCR because the girl that had caught Sly’s attention didn’t wear trousers and had her hair bundled under a heavy scarf.

“Her legs na die! Jesus! As we dey talk, I just dey imagine say I dey use tongue dey romance di leg.”

As he said that, a quick picture of Abbey flashed into Genesis’ mind’s eye and he sighed, involuntarily.

“So, wetin be di plan?” Tango asked.

“I dey go di church next Sunday na. From dia we go see.”

Chris was next. He was still going after the girl that had caught his attention before. For him, it was no game. Yes, he wanted to conquer but there was something more.

“There’s something about her that just…I no even know sef.” He shook his head, bewildered.

Tango was apparently finding it difficult to blend into a church. Churches irritated him, he said. Coupled with the fact that his body was quite er…obvious, girls gravitated towards him more often than not.

“How I wan take find spirikoko babe when all of dem dey hustle for me?” he lamented. “Even in church!”

“Look for di one wey no dey hustle you. Na she be real spirikoko,” Sly advised.

“What if dem no dey? What if…they all want some of this?” he puffed his chest out in a comical way.

His friends laughed.

“One go dey wey no want. And even if she want, she no go dey follow you like monkey.” Genesis said.

“Oya, talk ya own. You don find church abi babe?” Tango asked.

Genesis paused. He had found the church, right? The babe nko?

As he opened his mouth to tell them no, he hadn’t found the woman yet, he spotted her.

She had just entered and stood in the walkway, beside a man who had earrings on. She looked a little different from when he saw her on Sunday, she was clad in jeans and t-shirt and sneakers.

What the heck was she doing here?

“Guy, wetin you dey look?” Sly nudged him.

His mouth opened and closed again, the words didn’t come out.

Whoever had said he would forget about Abbey the singer so soon had been lying. She was here, in the flesh. At the club!

To Be Continued…

Mimi A.

Of Valentine And Politics

Dear Reader,

I know it’s coming one day later than the fourteenth, but who says Valentine can only be celebrated in one day?

So, dear reader, happy Love-Day. I hope you spent enough  time with that special someone yesterday? I hope you whispered love notes in his/ her ears? I hope you called your Mama and Daddy up and told them how much they mean to you?

And most of all, I hope you showed love to those street kids, those orphans who have nobody?

Here’s my Valentine gift to you, a story I entered in for an ongoing  Valentine  competition. Please do read and follow the link below to comment on the story and give me a chance at winning.

I love you, dear trusted reader. And thank you in advance.

 

Remember, the rest of the story can be read when you click the link below, and don’t leave without dropping a comment, it is very important. Gracias.

 

********

 

He gripped the worn out chair that stood between them, his chest heaving from the explosive words he had just let loose.
‘What did you just say Bode?’ His girlfriend asked.
He debated whether to repeat his words, had he meant them? Was he ready to go down that road?
‘Bode, what did you say?’ Her voice was low, a dangerous sign and a stark contrast to the screaming girl she had been a few minutes ago.
‘You heard me,’ he said.
‘So, you’re saying if I don’t vote Buhari, we’re done? You really mean that?’
He was stoic, unblinking, belying the pounding in his heart. How had a simple political argument turned this sour?
‘So, cat got your tongue now? You know what; I’ll make it easy on you. We’re done right now. Why wait till tomorrow? This…is over.’
‘Nancy…’ he began, unsure of what to say.
‘Don’t. You just proved something to me. Our relationship isn’t worth anything to you.’
He watched her pick her bag from the seat and march towards the door, he wanted to reach out to her, to apologize and tell her that nothing mattered except her but he didn’t. He had already crossed the line and as the door banged behind her, he felt his heart rip to pieces.
What had he just done?
Why hadn’t he let sleeping dogs lie? The election had always been a sore topic between them especially since Nan had aligned herself with PDP, using her status as a journalist to plant herself behind the President even when Bode had told her he didn’t agree with it.
He had told her clearly that he didn’t support the President’s re-election and she had laughed about it, telling him she was just doing her job. And then she had gotten her PVC and it had moved from just-a-job to I-vote-Goodluck.
‘Why?’ He had asked consistently.
‘Why not?’ Had been her rejoinder. ‘He’s a candidate and I have a right to my vote.’
‘But, you are my girlfriend and I don’t support Jonathan,’ he said, kissing her. He knew how selfish and silly that sounded but he didn’t care.
She had thrown him a look of despair that ended the conversation.
And now this. He should have known when to leave things alone. He shouldn’t have pushed her.
Now, they had broken up one day to the election. Happy now, Bode?
**********************

She would not cry. She must not. She could not admit that he had hurt her that much. Absolutely not.
She blinked back tears as she lay in bed that night, a coldness enveloped her. She missed the warmth of his body. They were supposed to be together right now, cuddling and eating popcorn most likely.
Over.
She couldn’t believe it. Bode, had been her life for the two years they’d been together. Somehow, he had come to be a part of her; that extra limb she hadn’t known she needed and that she now couldn’t do without.
Maybe she should have backed out from this politics thing when he asked her to.

Read more here http://www.elsieisy.com/valentine-politics/

Lookout For Miss Right- 19

We dug in our heels facing each other; I could see the challenge in her eyes. How on earth did I manage to get myself involved with such women? I wondered.
“Get out, Jake,” she said in a quieter tone. “You have no right to judge me”
I looked at her wistfully, I no longer saw the beautiful girl who had caught my eye; instead I saw an unscrupulous woman who didn’t care who saw her nakedness. In my eyes, she was cheap and used.
Without another word, I walked out of the house, making up my mind never to return.

I drove to Oscar’s feeling like shit. The time was almost nine pm. I didn’t know how to face Femi, but I knew I had to tell him the truth instead of letting Barbs do it. She was bound to tell some lies. That wasn’t the only reason I wanted to tell my friend the truth… I knew it was the right thing to do. Femi and I had been friends for as long as I could remember, it was no use losing a friendship this beautiful over a woman who was undeserving of us both.

    I knocked on the door and Flores opened it; almost immediately, she flew into my arms, hugging me tightly. I don’t know why; but I suddenly felt like crying. Weird, right? But hey, I’m only human and I needed to ease myself of the burden on my heart. Believe it or not, these past days with Sonia and now, Barbara…had caused some sort of emotional strain for me. I had looked forward to this weekend with my friends to get my sanity back, instead I had blown it.
At that point, I knew what I needed the most were my friends. Finally, Flores let go of me and peered up at my face.
“Come in. Where have you been?” She held my arm and pulled me inside. “We’ve been calling! Why would you just go off like that?!”
She was behaving exactly like my mum would, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I think I craved it. I needed someone to talk some sense into me.
“I’m sorry,” I apologised.
That was when I noticed Oscar and Femi in the living room.
“Hey guys,” I said.
Oscar stood and walked up to me. He looked terrible; his eyes were red and swollen.
“I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know you were just trying to help.” He said.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, too.” I replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. My friend was in pain and I could see it. “Are you okay?”
“If you mean, ‘has he gotten over Abbey?’ Then, no.” Flores replied, a worried look on her face.
We all moved fully into the living room and sat down.
“He told us everything,” Femi said. “Stupid of him to end their engagement, even I know that.”
“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Oscar said. “But I don’t know what to do. I feel betrayed, like she played me.”
“Do you love her?” I asked.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” He replied. “More than life itself. But is love enough?”
None of us had the answer to that question. The truth is; we all felt betrayed. Abbey had lied to our friend about something very serious. As much as we sympathised with her, we loved our friend more, and seeing him hurt was hurting us too.
At that moment, Femi’s phone rang and from the ensuing conversation, I knew it was Barbara. She had been bluffing after all. He hung up and I felt the guilt again.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“Barbs. She wants me to come over,” he replied.
“And?” I pressed.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “And…nothing. We have a major crisis here and I can’t leave. I’ll see her tomorrow.”
At that point, I admired Femi immensely. My friend wasn’t stupid after all. I, on the other hand, felt stupid. I had let myself get sucked in with Barbs’ antics. I knew now was the moment of truth.
I cleared my throat.
“I guess, now isn’t the right time to say this, but I really need to get it off my chest.” I began.
They all looked up at me.
I turned to Femi; “I owe you an apology.”
“For?” he asked.
“I was with Barbs this evening. After I left here I went to a restaurant to eat, I don’t know how she found me but she did. I’m not gonna say she’s responsible for whatever…”
“What happened, Jake? What did you guys do?” It was Flores who spoke this time, and I could hear the disappointment creeping into her voice.
“Nothing, technically.” I said, trying to avoid the accusing looks on my friends’ face.
“Technically?” Femi asked.
The whole story came pouring out of me; I didn’t leave any word of it out. I told them what Barbs’ told me about Sonia, and how the fight eventually ended.
When I was done, no one said a word. I could imagine what was going through their minds.
“C’mon you guys, I’d rather you crucify me than give me the silent treatment,” I said. “I’m sorry, I know I messed up.”
“Why do you think I didn’t want you to have anything to do with her in the first place?” Femi asked after a while. “You think it’s because I care about her? Ha! It’s you I’m worried about. It’s you I care about. I’ve always known my step- sister was loose. She doesn’t deserve you”
I was speechless. What could I say? My friend had just proved that he was smarter than I thought, possibly even smarter than me.
“I’m going to bed,” Oscar announced, standing.
“Don’t be tempted to commit suicide ooh,” Flores said.
He gave a small smile. “I’ll let you know if I’m thinking about it.”
“Everything is going to be alright,” Flores said, in her motherly voice. “We’re going to figure out a way to make this right.”
Oscar nodded and went into the bedroom. Femi retired next, after another apology from me. Flores and I were left alone, she didn’t talk to me. I could feel the disappointment emanating from her.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked sheepishly. I respected her immensely; I didn’t want to spoil her opinion of me.
“Should I be?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe…I don’t know”
“Good.” She stood. “I’m going to bed. Good-night”
Without waiting for a reply, she went inside.
When I finally slept, it was a short and tumultuous sleep. I had a series of bad dreams which featured Sonia and Barbs. Just as I was beginning to enjoy my sleep, I was awoken by a push. My eyes flew open instantly.
Femi was looking down at me.
“Something wrong?” I asked groggily.
“It’s Abbey. Oscar just got a call that she’s been rushed to the hospital. We’re going with him.”

To be continued.

MIMI .A.

Lookout For Miss Right- 18

      Standing in the doorway like a bull getting ready to fight was someone I had come to fear more than the devil himself. Sonia.
Barbs and I scrambled to our feet, half-naked. I was clad in my blue boxer shorts, Barbs in her bra and panties, clutching the pink bed sheet.
“What is going on here?” Sonia bellowed again. She began advancing into the room, a crazed look in her eyes.
“Sonia, let’s talk about this please…” Barbs was saying.
“Talk? Talk? Okay…let’s talk about how you stole Austin from me! And now Jake!” Sonia screamed. She turned to me. “Is this your sick mother, you bastard?”
I didn’t know what to say, especially now that I knew her mental condition.
“Sonia…” I began.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” She yelled. “Barbara , you slut! I warned you never to come near my man, didn’t I?”
“It’s not my fault they prefer me,” Barbara wasn’t backing down. “And don’t you dare call me a slut again! How did you get in here? Get out! Get out now!”
Her words were cut off with a resounding slap. I hadn’t seen that coming.
Barbara reared back like a wounded cat. I thought she would start crying, the next thing I knew she had landed an equally resounding slap on Sonia’s face.
I was confused. If there was one thing I had learnt, it was never to get in the middle of a ladies’ ruckus. But I couldn’t leave them to kill themselves.
“Ladies please…” I began
It was no use; they had pounced on each other already. I did the first thing that came to my mind. I packed the rest of my clothing and exited the room as quickly as possible.
Why did trouble always have to catch up with me? I asked myself as I crawled into my car and slammed the door behind me.
Within minutes I was out of there and on my way home. I changed my mind when I remembered that Sonia knew my house and could easily find me.
I went to the only place I knew I could go. Oscar’s.
I didn’t know how I was going to face Femi, knowing what I had almost done. We hadn’t had sex technically, I consoled myself. But you were going to, another voice reminded me.
Well, Femi didn’t have to know about it. I couldn’t stand having him mad at me. So, I decided to keep it a secret and hope that Barbs would too.

              

Thinking of Barbs made me feel guilty. I had left her alone in the hands of a maniac. What if something terrible happened? Sonia was crazy and would go any length to have me. What if this led to something more serious?
With these nagging thoughts, I made a U- turn and began driving back to Barb’s place. I was partly responsible for the situation, so it only made sense that I do my best to salvage the damage.
I arrived barely twenty minutes later and rushed inside. The living room was empty as before, so I guessed that they were still in the bedroom. I made my way to the room cautiously and stood at the door. Both women stood facing themselves, like a staring contest. They were obviously tired of using their fists. I don’t think they knew I was there.
“He’s mine. I don’t want you near him,” I heard Sonia say.
Barbs threw back her head and laughed drily. “If he’s yours…what was he doing in my bed?”
“You seduced him, just like you seduced Austin.” Sonia spat the words out with venom. “Just like you seduced my father!”

I gasped. Chief Odeniran and Barbara? Oh my God…
“Oh please…your father wanted me. He came after me. Guys find me irresistible, deal with it!”
Was she actually boasting about it? I wondered. The thought dawned on me that I had become one of those guys. First Femi, then Austin, now Chief Odeniran… what else didn’t I know about Barbara Bode- Johnson?
“Guys find you cheap! Irresistible is in your imagination. Stay away from me, Barbara…or you’ll see the bitch in me!” Sonia said in a menacing voice.
“Get out of here! You’re crazy!” Barbs yelled
It was at this point I stepped into the room. Both ladies instantly quieted.
“I think it’s time to leave, Sonia.” I said as calmly as possible.
She glared at me, the pointed a finger in my face: “You belong to me…and if I can’t have you, no one else can.”
With that she stormed out of the room. We waited until we heard her slam the front door behind her before our heart was put at rest.
“I thought you left?” Barbs asked.
“I did. Then I came back.” I watched her. My earlier attraction had faded.
She managed a small smile, and then touched my face. “My hero. See how crazy my cousin is? I can’t believe she threatened you.”
I moved away from her. There was a lot about her I didn’t know, and it made me uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?” She asked. Her face was swollen in the places Sonia had hit her.
“Why does Sonia hate you so much?” I asked.
“Sonia hates everyone. It’s her mental condition.”
“Is she really your cousin?” I asked.
“Why all these questions? Am I being interrogated?” She was frowning at me.
“Just answer me,” I said shortly.
She stood. “No. I’m going to take a bath. You can help if you want.”
I stood too, and held her by the arm. “Answer me, Barbs.”
“You are not my boyfriend! I don’t have to answer your questions!” She yelled. “Let go of me!”
“So, who’s your boyfriend? Femi or Chief Odeniran?” The question was out before I knew it.
“You son of a bitch!” She loosened herself from my grip and raised her hand to hit me. I was faster than her and stopped her hand in mid- air.
“The truth is bitter, huh?” I asked sarcastically.
She eyed me furiously. “Well, deal with this truth… Femi is on his way here. I wonder what he’ll think when I tell him what transpired between us.”
I glared at her, and noticed that my heart began to beat a little faster than normal.
“You’re bluffing.” I said.
“Try me.”
I stood, wondering if I was ready to take that risk.

Dear Future Husband; A Letter

Photo by LivluvCreate

Dear Future Husband,

Believe me I will not be writing this letter to you if it were not so important. I have pondered on it many times and have decided it is important I communicate this with you before you approach me.

There is one thing you will need if you want to marry me. Forget the cars, the duplexes, the 9-5 bank job or the fat wallet, this thing is more important than all those. In fact, if used well, this thing will get you all those.

I am sure you are dying to know what it is that will be your ticket to marrying me. Let me tell you, it is something seemly insignificant but I tell you it is a case of the pen being mightier than the sword. And please do not laugh because if you do it will just convey to me that you are not the kind of man who understands the deep things of this life.

Okay here it is, my dear future hubby, you need dimples.
And no, I am not some dumb blond. I will not tell you what I have not researched about. I have seen the power of dimples first hand. In fact, the other day I went to the bank to do a transaction and while at the counter waiting my turn, a lady brushed by me and marched to the front like she owned the place.

I opened my mouth to tell her it was my turn next and she turned to me and the moment she smiled I knew that the battle was lost. This lady had the freshest dimples you could imagine. I almost died and went to heaven.

She now spoke in one tiny voice like that and said things I cannot remember because I was too busy basking in the glory of those two deep holes in her cheeks.
Now, I am not gay(how could I be, when I’m rooting for you?) but dimples have this effect on me that it doesn’t matter who has them; man, woman, animal, alien. I do not mind. They drive me crazy, in a good way.
You should know how the rest of the story goes.
So, future hubby; you don’t have to be tall, dark and handsome. Don’t worry dimples would take care of that. They have a way of wiping off any sort of ugliness in anybody. When you show them, everybody forgets about whatever inadequacies you have. With dimples, you are beauty in the eyes of every beholder.
And by dimples I don’t mean those semi-dots, those wannabes that appear by mistake on people’s faces. Like mine. Do you know how many times I have stood in front of the mirror and folded my mouth in just to produce actual dimples? I can’t count, I tell you. I mean real dimples, the deep ones that your finger can fit in.
Let me tell you why dimples are important again, for us. You see, dimples are like boobs. I have boobs so I can tell the effect they have on men alone, this time. They open up closed doors; they are powerful in an inconspicuous way. And with dimples you and I will never have to fight. Because I am very sure that by the time you bestow me with a glorious dimpled smile, my anger will evaporate and I would forget what I had been angry about in the first place. That way, we get to have lots of make-up sex even when there is nothing to make up for.
But that is good, right? After all, the key to a successful marriage is sex. And from what I hear make-up sex is the most beautiful kind; spontaneous and passionate. If we keep doing that, our marriage is sure to succeed. Do you know why?
Dimples.
Do you now see why it is paramount for you to have them?
With dimples, even if you don’t have a car or a good job when you come to marry me, my mother would convince my father to hire you and then marry me. You see, mother is a sucker for dimples too.
I am concerned about this because I am dimpleless and it has been a source of worry for me all these years. I have however made up my mind that when I have become a millionaire like some of these celebrities, I will fly abroad and have plastic surgery done. The kind where they only put dimples in my face. I hope that kind of surgery exists because I am thinking, if they could change a black man to white with plastic surgery, why not put dimples where there were none? Faces are like pasta, no?

photo by drahanorov

But I digress; I was saying that I am sure that if I marry you, dimples would automatically be in our children’s jeans…I’m sorry, genes. That has been my earnest prayer all these years.

Lord, what I have never been able to get, my children shall have in hundred fold. Amen.
So you see, you are paramount to the answering of this prayer.
Now, I know you will read this and I am telling you now, please, biko, mbok, ejooo drill a hole in your cheeks if you want me to ever recognise you because I have asked God to blind my eyes to any man whose cheeks are naked.
And my God answers prayers.
I will wait for you.

Your Dimpleless Future Wife.

Photo by Hitarek.net

Dear Reader: A Must Read

THANK YOU.

I know, I know. You were probably expecting a sermon, something more colourful than a simple thank you. But what is more beautiful, what captures gratitude like the word THANK YOU?

So, here I am thanking you, the faithful followers and readers of the Hourglass. You’ve been wonderful. To those who take out time to comment, I am thankful. You make blogging fun, you make it worth it. You make the Hourglass what it is.

I hope to do better in 2015, I hope that as we close this chapter and open another in a few hours, I wish you all an amazing 2015.

Lots Of Love!

Lookout For Miss Right- 16

The story was getting more interesting. I was itching to hear more.
“So…did you know that Austin was Sonia’s ex before you started dating him?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I found out two months into the relationship but I didn’t tell Austin I was related to her.”
“Why?”
“So he’ll think I was as obsessive as she was?” Barbara said. “Anyway, the relationship didn’t last long, Sonia made sure of that. Soon, Austin and I were history and Sonia hated me. Four years later she was diagnosed with O.L.D.”
“So she’s fixated on me because…”
“You bear a resemblance to Austin. In her mental state, she thinks she can re-live her affair with Austin with you. And she’ll go to any lengths to do it.”
“Isn’t there a cure for it?” I didn’t like the idea of Sonia stalking me for the rest of my life.
“She was being treated in America. She has meds for it, but the problem is; she stopped taking them since she met you. That’s why she seems to be out of control.” Barbs slid a hand across the table and squeezed my hand. “I know this doesn’t sound comforting, but…”
I interrupted her, “So what happened that Wednesday night that we were supposed to have a date?”
She sighed. “Chief found out about it and also discovered she had stopped taking her meds. So he had her drugged, and sent me to check who her date was supposed to be with. That’s how I ended up there that night. She was asleep the whole time.”
“Wow,” I was actually intrigued. “She showed up at my place later that night, you know.
“Yes. No one knows how she managed to leave the house after she woke up. You need to know that her condition is a secret. Hardly anybody knows about it. And Chief intends to keep it that way, that’s why he’s been concerned about you. That’s why he’s gone so many lengths to keep you away from her. He didn’t want you to find out about her condition.”
“So why are you telling me this?”
“Because I feel you have a right to know. After all, you’re her latest obsession. And we need your help to get her back. She’s been missing for days now, we need to find her and have her sent back to the States.”
It was my turn to sigh. My life had just become more complicated.

“We need you to inform us as soon as she gets in touch with you. That’s the only way we can get to her.”
“I was with her yesterday. At a hotel, I don’t know if she’ll still be there. She doesn’t seem to want to be found,” I said.
“Well, that’s up to you. But I can tell you, it only gets worse.”
“If that was supposed to alleviate my fears, you didn’t succeed.” I said.
She laughed. “Now you know the truth. Let’s talk about more pressing matters.” She winked at me.
“You sure you’re not mental too?” I asked jokingly.
She laughed, diffusing the tension. “You ready to go home now?”
I stole a glance at her. “Am I supposed to insinuate something from that question?”
“I like this game we’re playing. But we’re not kids anymore, Jake. Let’s get outta here please.” She stood and held out a hand to me. “I know we didn’t start on a great note…but I’m ready to call a truce.”
I stood; there was no use causing a scene. We exited the restaurant together. She followed me to my car.
“So…you were saying?” I asked, leaning on the car.
“I find you attractive, Jake. And trust me; it’s not all the time I find a man attractive.” She said unabashedly.
Strangely enough, I was turned on by her brazenness. But something still bothered me:
“Barbara, you’re sleeping with my best friend, at the same time you’re propositioning me?” I asked.
She smiled wantonly. It was getting dark and the air between us was crackling with sexual tension. I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to her, but I had promised myself I wouldn’t dabble with anyone that Femi had claims on.
“My relationship with Femi is purely physical, you know that. You on the other hand…are different. There’s something about you that’s irresistible. I can’t quite figure it out but I intend to,” she leaned forward and I felt her lips on mine. It was a light kiss, I didn’t resist. The kiss deepened and I found myself responding. My head told me I shouldn’t be doing that, but my body refused to obey.
I don’t know what would have happened if we weren’t in a public place, but thank God we were, because soon enough we became aware of the sounds around us and we ended the kiss.
“Let’s get outta here, Jake.” Barbara whispered.
I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was. Flee or give in? My groin was throbbing, madly. Barrbara had to be a she-devil.
“You think too much. Just stop for a moment… and don’t think.” She was saying.
“Barbara, I don’t think this is right.” Even I knew that excuse sounded weak.
She kissed me again. This time I knew she had me.

To Be Continued…

Mimi .A.(C) 2013