STORY: The Thorn On My Flesh. Complete Episode 1 To 13. | Alex Oduanam's Blog
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 1)
“Dele, stop
it.” She breathes. I hold back my hand slowly. I smile as she turns her back at
me I watch her spotless, creamy-brown figure like it’s the first time she is
lying next to me on bed. Her delicate hips, alongside her overall pleasing
features, always trill me.
——–*********——– I have been asleep for over five hours since I collapsed to the bed at 9pm. My early sleep was due to my long wait for a bus in that heavy rain last night; even now my blood is still frozen. The effort of my blanket proves futile to subdue the shiver… My potent organ is the only hot part. That is due to the ‘agbo jedi’ (local herb) I took while at work yesterday. Indeed, it is my lustful thing that aroused me from sleep. Again, my hand crawls gently towards those robust b-----s which befit a lady of twenty-seven, who had apparently not abused her body. Although she is still on pyjamas. Over the two years of our marriage, that was how I have always roused her. I got to know that rubbing those parts was one of her weak points, followed by working my tongue and lips from the tips of her toes up to her g---n. In fact , that would make her body travel out of this world … But that is needless right now – my body is really shouting for an urgent help.
——–*********——– “Bamidele … stop this rubbish!” Her voice turns up a little. She shifts her beautiful frame to the edge of the bed – her body wriggles. There is something more to this, I think … She hardly addresses me by my full name. She had once told me she found it romantic calling me by that short form. “Titi, what is all this now?” I can sense a tremor in my voice. I don’t know what will become of me if Titi wouldn’t let me convert the chill on my body to perspiration. Sexual urge darts across my body like hummingbird hunting for food from one twig to another. “I am not in the mood for this nonsense, okay?” She says, turning her face to me. The light is off. But the reflection of the street lights through the windowpane leaves a glimmer from which I can see the annoyance that emits from Titi’s eyes. “You call this nonsense?” My voice breaks out from shiver at last, but still in a low tone like hers, “The same thing you said yesterday – you were not in the mood. The day before; same thing … I overlooked those ones because there was neither rain nor cold … Do you want me to die from cold before daybreak?” “What is this thick blanket meant for … ehn?” She feels the texture of the blanket in her hand, obviously to emphasize her statement, “if you are not satisfied with that, this pillow is big enough for you to get rid of the cold.. Please don’t disturb me. I need to rest.”
——–*********——– “When do you want us to produce that glorious seed if you keep avoiding this?” Titi’s throat burst out with a mocking laughter, “You don’t cease to amuse me, you this man,” She continues laughing, and says in a fake romantic tone, “Those ones we have been doing since all these while, what have they yielded, my dear?” “Didn’t we go to the doctor together last week? He said none of us has problem hindering childbirth… So what fault are you heaving upon me?” “Whatever,” she says, waving her hand as if warding off a mosquito across my face. She resumes her position -facing the other side. I take a long sigh, and shake my head. Not now that I’ve taken advice from a co-worker that a ‘local herbal concoction’ would boost my libido since I now engage in a hard-work. He said the herb would strengthen my backbone for a better performance. Yesterday was my first time of giving it a try. My weakness lately is the reason why she has been avoiding me. I believe she is using that infertility as an excuse. But can one actually call three or four rounds of lovemaking a weakness? It’s either I test this ‘agbo jedi’ on your body now or I die. There is nothing like assaulting one’s housewife, of course. I must force you. It’s today you will know I have become a man, like I was during our early marriage – stronger than a horse! Without any further thought, I suddenly shove her from the edge of the field to the center, where the match would be comfortable to play.
——–*********——– I have been asleep for over five hours since I collapsed to the bed at 9pm. My early sleep was due to my long wait for a bus in that heavy rain last night; even now my blood is still frozen. The effort of my blanket proves futile to subdue the shiver… My potent organ is the only hot part. That is due to the ‘agbo jedi’ (local herb) I took while at work yesterday. Indeed, it is my lustful thing that aroused me from sleep. Again, my hand crawls gently towards those robust b-----s which befit a lady of twenty-seven, who had apparently not abused her body. Although she is still on pyjamas. Over the two years of our marriage, that was how I have always roused her. I got to know that rubbing those parts was one of her weak points, followed by working my tongue and lips from the tips of her toes up to her g---n. In fact , that would make her body travel out of this world … But that is needless right now – my body is really shouting for an urgent help.
——–*********——– “Bamidele … stop this rubbish!” Her voice turns up a little. She shifts her beautiful frame to the edge of the bed – her body wriggles. There is something more to this, I think … She hardly addresses me by my full name. She had once told me she found it romantic calling me by that short form. “Titi, what is all this now?” I can sense a tremor in my voice. I don’t know what will become of me if Titi wouldn’t let me convert the chill on my body to perspiration. Sexual urge darts across my body like hummingbird hunting for food from one twig to another. “I am not in the mood for this nonsense, okay?” She says, turning her face to me. The light is off. But the reflection of the street lights through the windowpane leaves a glimmer from which I can see the annoyance that emits from Titi’s eyes. “You call this nonsense?” My voice breaks out from shiver at last, but still in a low tone like hers, “The same thing you said yesterday – you were not in the mood. The day before; same thing … I overlooked those ones because there was neither rain nor cold … Do you want me to die from cold before daybreak?” “What is this thick blanket meant for … ehn?” She feels the texture of the blanket in her hand, obviously to emphasize her statement, “if you are not satisfied with that, this pillow is big enough for you to get rid of the cold.. Please don’t disturb me. I need to rest.”
——–*********——– “When do you want us to produce that glorious seed if you keep avoiding this?” Titi’s throat burst out with a mocking laughter, “You don’t cease to amuse me, you this man,” She continues laughing, and says in a fake romantic tone, “Those ones we have been doing since all these while, what have they yielded, my dear?” “Didn’t we go to the doctor together last week? He said none of us has problem hindering childbirth… So what fault are you heaving upon me?” “Whatever,” she says, waving her hand as if warding off a mosquito across my face. She resumes her position -facing the other side. I take a long sigh, and shake my head. Not now that I’ve taken advice from a co-worker that a ‘local herbal concoction’ would boost my libido since I now engage in a hard-work. He said the herb would strengthen my backbone for a better performance. Yesterday was my first time of giving it a try. My weakness lately is the reason why she has been avoiding me. I believe she is using that infertility as an excuse. But can one actually call three or four rounds of lovemaking a weakness? It’s either I test this ‘agbo jedi’ on your body now or I die. There is nothing like assaulting one’s housewife, of course. I must force you. It’s today you will know I have become a man, like I was during our early marriage – stronger than a horse! Without any further thought, I suddenly shove her from the edge of the field to the center, where the match would be comfortable to play.
THE THORN ON MY FLESH (EPISODE 2)
“What are you trying to do?” She says as she struggles with me. I am trying to seize her hands to the bed. It’s either I tear off the pyjamas and the inner wears if they would be the obstacles to this Important assignment – even if I decide to relent, the spirit of that herb will not allow me.
———*******——— “Do you want to rape your own housewife?” The word heaves out of her throat between the struggle, but still in a low tone. Housewife indeed – a so-called housewife would only deprive her husband of this commodity for five consecutive days. I don’t want to say a word until this mission is accomplished. I keep struggling, and she keeps proving a superwoman with me. “I will shout o!” she pants. “You dare not shout,” I clutch at her panties, after taking off her pyjamas, “only a shameless housewife will do that in the middle of the night, you know.”
———*******——— Now, her strength seems to intensify. I am not surprised about that. Her father is from Calabar, and her mother, Ondo state. (Make una no vex ooo evry Calaber & Ondo abi no b so..) She pushes me roughly, but I maintain my position on top of her. At last, I bury my head into her bosoms. As if a cold water is poured on a fire, her body calms at once. Her struggling hands drop weak to the bed, and she is holding me closer. Moans of pleasure releases from her mouth. Oh! My potent organ will swing to action at last. I will soon be there, baby – Oh yeah…. Suddenly, I felt a painful pierce on my chest.
THE THORN ON MY FLESH (EPISODE 3)
“Ye-eh!” My voice breaks
out. “Oponu oshi” ( idiotic fellow) Titi says as she springs to her feet,
jumping into her pyjamas, “you think you are wise abi.” She says as she opens
the door that leads to the sitting-room. I feel very weak as I grab where she
has plugged her teeth just above my n-----s. My breaths run with pressure. Her
voice faints out from here. I can hear her mumble something inaudible; I am
sure they are abusive words. “Uncle, what is wrong?” An alarming voice comes
from the doorway. It is my cousin, Lara. She is the last child of my Dad’s
elder sister. She had come to stay with us since her school, MAPOLY, is not far
from our place. Lara switches the light on and moves close to me. I cunningly
remove my hand from my chest and cover my body with the blanket. “I heard your
scream from my room. What is the matter? And where is sister Titilayo?” Lara’s eyes
divert to the wall clock and my eyes follow. The time is 2:45 a.m. “Nothing,
dear,” I manage a smile, “I was stung by a giant wasp … Titi just left the bed
because she thought the wasp will also sting her.” “Ah, ” Lara sighs, resting
her palms on her chests, “I thought it’s something more than that … sorry, sir.
Maybe you need to apply something on it. Should I get you an ointment to
relieve you from the pain?” “Oh, don’t bother yourself … I will get over it
soon.” Lara is on a pink pyjamas that, however, defines her well-shaped,
chocolate brown figure. She is really a good-looking girl and that’s also
applicable to her character.
———-*******———
“Okay, good night,” she says, waving her hand sleepily. She turns off the light as she makes her way out. The door creaks and closes gently. This is not the same Titi I married two years ago … This is not the same lady that used to seduce me each time I felt tired to perform. She is the lady that knows how to stimulate me better than I do. So what is the matter with her now? She started this naughty behaviour about thirteen months ago when I faced bankruptcy in my company at port Harcourt. I had to sell all my houses to recover my debt. I sold the remaining two cars I had to rent this two bedroom flat. I inherited those properties from my late father. I started working as a driver for a hotel seven months ago – I would hunch behind the wheel from morning till nightfall with a hard labour of offloading the goods that are being conveyed. I’m not meant to do that, but the hotel manager said it’s part of my work. He said a tall, strong-looking man like me shouldn’t complain of double duties for the age I entered in my written application – I have aged thirty-five. I have to comply to his instruction if I don’t want to lose the job. I had been looking for work over five months before the driving job consoled me. My salary is thirty-five thousand naira, just like my age. When I still had my own company, I wouldn’t wear myself out. I spent only four hours in the office, and my manager was competent enough to make sure everything was in order. Those times I noticed I could perform in bed for a longer period than now – ‘seven or eight rounds in bed no be play-play o’. She really respected me for that, and she would be the one to force me to action. How on earth will that manager know that overworking is destroying my marriage?
———-*******——— The downfall of my libido is certainly the reason why Titi is behaving like this. Or what else could it be? The answer is obvious. It was two months ago I found out that my wife had bought a d---o. I found it by chance in her handbag. I guessed she forgot to keep it as soon as she arrived home from the shop. I didn’t tell her I found something like that … ever since then I realized I have become a loser to her – a d---o does my job better – isn’t?
———-*******———
“Okay, good night,” she says, waving her hand sleepily. She turns off the light as she makes her way out. The door creaks and closes gently. This is not the same Titi I married two years ago … This is not the same lady that used to seduce me each time I felt tired to perform. She is the lady that knows how to stimulate me better than I do. So what is the matter with her now? She started this naughty behaviour about thirteen months ago when I faced bankruptcy in my company at port Harcourt. I had to sell all my houses to recover my debt. I sold the remaining two cars I had to rent this two bedroom flat. I inherited those properties from my late father. I started working as a driver for a hotel seven months ago – I would hunch behind the wheel from morning till nightfall with a hard labour of offloading the goods that are being conveyed. I’m not meant to do that, but the hotel manager said it’s part of my work. He said a tall, strong-looking man like me shouldn’t complain of double duties for the age I entered in my written application – I have aged thirty-five. I have to comply to his instruction if I don’t want to lose the job. I had been looking for work over five months before the driving job consoled me. My salary is thirty-five thousand naira, just like my age. When I still had my own company, I wouldn’t wear myself out. I spent only four hours in the office, and my manager was competent enough to make sure everything was in order. Those times I noticed I could perform in bed for a longer period than now – ‘seven or eight rounds in bed no be play-play o’. She really respected me for that, and she would be the one to force me to action. How on earth will that manager know that overworking is destroying my marriage?
———-*******——— The downfall of my libido is certainly the reason why Titi is behaving like this. Or what else could it be? The answer is obvious. It was two months ago I found out that my wife had bought a d---o. I found it by chance in her handbag. I guessed she forgot to keep it as soon as she arrived home from the shop. I didn’t tell her I found something like that … ever since then I realized I have become a loser to her – a d---o does my job better – isn’t?
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 4)
———-*******——— I proposed
to Titi when I was wealthy, and I made her a full housewife. She had promised
never to leave me under no circumstances – Our love, she has always sworn to
me, ‘for better for worse.’ Although she studied hotel management in the
university, and also learnt hairdressing. I planned not to let her get
attracted to any man outside, but now my plan for her has changed. I opened a
small salon for her immediately my business went down the drain.
———-*******——— “With how much I love this girl,” I mumble, pointing towards the doorway,“ So she can deprive me of my right? I will not divorce you… I believe you will turn a new leaf someday. I can’t quit my job because I want to satisfy a woman. That’s impossible!” I pull over the blanket and hug my pillow. Blank out. My ears start buzzing with a continuous cool music. I spring to life from my sleep. it’s still dark. I realize it’s from a phone … It’s an unfamiliar ring tone in the house (‘Thousand miles’ by Vanessa Carlton). Anyway, that must be Titi’s phone. I seize the opportunity to check the time on my own phone. 5: 07 am. I can still feel a throb under me. Oh, this stubborn thing has not come down yet? I still need a sleep. I do resume work by 6:15 am. My phone alarm would wake me by 5:45 am. My place of work is few miles away from here. I shift my body to the edge of the bed and grope through the small shelve where the ringtone is coming from. I decide to hit the red button to terminate the call or text message – I don’t care whichever. I can feel my fingers handling the phone, but it feels different. I take a better look with the light from my phone.
———-*******——— “A blackberry curve 3G – the latest one?” I mutter, surprised, “from Nokia C3 to this. Where could she have gotten the money.” I decide to check the contact – it’s a text message. it goes like this: “u need to come early 2day, dear. You knw that d one we did yesterday was not it. I want u to give me dat beautiful style today. I can’t just av a gud sleep. Just name how much you want, I will always give u any amount. I just loved that of the day before yesterday.” “What kind of message is this?” I whisper. I check the sender’s name. No name. Just a number? So, Titi is now cheating on me. She has started sleeping with rich men for money. I read the message over and over again, my body grows hot, almost melting down. I switch off the phone and hide it inside my old brief case. She will account for this. I resume my sleep. I am stirred from sleep again. It’s broad day light. 7: 05am from the wall clock! “What!” What is wrong with my phone? Is the battery dead? I dip my hand beside the pillow for the phone. It’s no longer there. I search the entire bed. All around the tiled floor. I can’t find it. I grab my towel from the hanger, and rush to the shower. I quickly brush my teeth. I am late for work for the first time. I will have to give an excuse to defend myself today. But who might have taken my phone? I really need to get it before leaving for work. I met an old friend yesterday while I was offloading crates of beers from the truck. He is Rotimi by name. He is one of those I had helped when time was good. He parked beside me the latest Honda accord. I hardly recognized him. He told me he had several oil companies, and many houses all across the state. He gave me his business card with an appointment to call him today. Thank God! I saved the number on my phone before I misplaced the card. After dressing up, I headed straight to the sitting-room. Titi is lying on the couch. I stand behind the couch, resting my hands on the edge. She adjusts her position at the moment. I guess she has noticed my presence. “Did you find my phone?” I ask, but no response for almost one minute. I repeat the question. “When you give me back my phone, I’ll give you yours!” She says and let out a long hiss. “Don’t worry!” I say with a pretentious pressure in my voice, “I am going for work. You caused my lateness this morning. isn’t? If you fail to hand me the phone at this moment, just keep it forever. I will also keep yours forever … You know I’m a man of my words. Bye for now.” I turn towards the door with a jerk in my movement. “Honey!”
———-*******——— “With how much I love this girl,” I mumble, pointing towards the doorway,“ So she can deprive me of my right? I will not divorce you… I believe you will turn a new leaf someday. I can’t quit my job because I want to satisfy a woman. That’s impossible!” I pull over the blanket and hug my pillow. Blank out. My ears start buzzing with a continuous cool music. I spring to life from my sleep. it’s still dark. I realize it’s from a phone … It’s an unfamiliar ring tone in the house (‘Thousand miles’ by Vanessa Carlton). Anyway, that must be Titi’s phone. I seize the opportunity to check the time on my own phone. 5: 07 am. I can still feel a throb under me. Oh, this stubborn thing has not come down yet? I still need a sleep. I do resume work by 6:15 am. My phone alarm would wake me by 5:45 am. My place of work is few miles away from here. I shift my body to the edge of the bed and grope through the small shelve where the ringtone is coming from. I decide to hit the red button to terminate the call or text message – I don’t care whichever. I can feel my fingers handling the phone, but it feels different. I take a better look with the light from my phone.
———-*******——— “A blackberry curve 3G – the latest one?” I mutter, surprised, “from Nokia C3 to this. Where could she have gotten the money.” I decide to check the contact – it’s a text message. it goes like this: “u need to come early 2day, dear. You knw that d one we did yesterday was not it. I want u to give me dat beautiful style today. I can’t just av a gud sleep. Just name how much you want, I will always give u any amount. I just loved that of the day before yesterday.” “What kind of message is this?” I whisper. I check the sender’s name. No name. Just a number? So, Titi is now cheating on me. She has started sleeping with rich men for money. I read the message over and over again, my body grows hot, almost melting down. I switch off the phone and hide it inside my old brief case. She will account for this. I resume my sleep. I am stirred from sleep again. It’s broad day light. 7: 05am from the wall clock! “What!” What is wrong with my phone? Is the battery dead? I dip my hand beside the pillow for the phone. It’s no longer there. I search the entire bed. All around the tiled floor. I can’t find it. I grab my towel from the hanger, and rush to the shower. I quickly brush my teeth. I am late for work for the first time. I will have to give an excuse to defend myself today. But who might have taken my phone? I really need to get it before leaving for work. I met an old friend yesterday while I was offloading crates of beers from the truck. He is Rotimi by name. He is one of those I had helped when time was good. He parked beside me the latest Honda accord. I hardly recognized him. He told me he had several oil companies, and many houses all across the state. He gave me his business card with an appointment to call him today. Thank God! I saved the number on my phone before I misplaced the card. After dressing up, I headed straight to the sitting-room. Titi is lying on the couch. I stand behind the couch, resting my hands on the edge. She adjusts her position at the moment. I guess she has noticed my presence. “Did you find my phone?” I ask, but no response for almost one minute. I repeat the question. “When you give me back my phone, I’ll give you yours!” She says and let out a long hiss. “Don’t worry!” I say with a pretentious pressure in my voice, “I am going for work. You caused my lateness this morning. isn’t? If you fail to hand me the phone at this moment, just keep it forever. I will also keep yours forever … You know I’m a man of my words. Bye for now.” I turn towards the door with a jerk in my movement. “Honey!”
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 5)
On hearing that, my feet glue down. My ears must be deceiving me.
It’s been long I heard that from her. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you about the phone.”
She says in a soft, apologetic tone. I turn back gently and I am surprised to
see her on her two knees. “Firstly!” My voice raises high to the ceiling, “Tell
me where you got money for that phone. Secondly, you have to account for the
useless text message I saw on it!” Having said that, I match to the bedroom and
return with the phone in my hand. I read out the message to her. “Oh, that
should be one of my customers,” she says confidently, with her left hand
scratching her hair, “ She must be talking about a particular hairstyle” “You
are a liar! why didn’t you save the number with a particular name? And besides,
how could a customer text you in the midnight, telling you she is unable to
sleep – for what? Finally, you need to explain where you get the money for
this.” “I can’t lie to you, Dele … Okay, okay,” she says with outstretched
hands, “I can explain … I gave a new customer my number yesterday, and I forgot
to have hers. She is a rich woman. You can re-read where she texted that she
could give me any amount for the style… I believe she is talking about a
beautiful hairstyle she had seen on another customer.” I re-read the message …
Yes, I think she is right. I must have thought otherwise because of her selfish
altitude lately. My voice calms a little and I demand how she got the expensive
blackberry. She explains to me that her friend, Pricilla, gave it to her
yesterday. I know the lady she is talking about quite well. Her husband is very
wealthy. She had become Titi’s friend in one of the uptown clubs we used to
attend when there was affluence. Out of all her rich friends I think Pricilla
is the only one left with her. “Okay, I have heard you,” my shoulders drop with
my voice, “You know I’ve always trusted you. You are giving me that unnecessary
suspicion when you won’t give me what belongs to me. Now Promise me you will
stop your naughty behaviours in this house.” “I promise, dear.” I ask her for
my phone, and she hands it to me from under the throw-pillow. I dip her phone
in my trousers pocket. I head towards the door. “You are not giving me back my
phone?” “Of course, I will … Let me see your character for some days. ” “I am
sorry, baby,” she says, and moves close to me after standing up. She leans her
body gently on my back. I can feel the caress of those succulent boobs. As if
enchanted by that, my mind changes right away. I bring out the phone and gave
it to her, “Take it and behave yourself.” “Thanks, dear,” She pecks me on my
cheek. “You’re welcome.” I smile..
THE THORN ON MY FLESH (EPISODE 6)
Later in the day, I dial Rotimi’s number while I am in the truck. I have already parked by the road. “Hello, this is Chief Olarotimi Ariyo. Who am I speaking with?” A voice from the receiver says. “This is Dele – Bamidele Olaonipekun.” I reply. “Dele, I have been expecting your call since morning.” “The number is just going through since morning. I think it’s network.” “Sorry about that. I am in the office right now. Just trace the address on that card.” I told him I have misplaced the card and I did not really go through it when I collected it. He explains the direction to me, and I can sense warmth in his voice as he does. At last I arrive at one of his filling stations at Alagbado. There is an eatery there too. I meet a receptionist who politely ushers me to the office. When I am about to enter the office I adjust the collar of my navy blue T-shirt, and I examine my trousers. They have been neatly ironed by Lara. I was hoping Rotimi will welcome me with a handshake, but I am surprised when he welcomes me with a warm embrace. We had been friends since our college days in Ahmadu Bello University. Although I knew him to be a humble fellow then, but I thought his high status would have changed all of that. “Have your seat,” Rotimi gestures towards the white couch that is located far away from his office desk, “I am really happy to see you.” The office is painted white. It is more or less a sitting room, for its wideness. It’s lavishly and sophisticatedlyfurnished. A tall bar is fixed on the wall, full of all expensive wines. There is a glassy table in between the two sitters and one-sitter couch. A flat screen hangs on the wall to the left. Rotimi sits in the opposite two-seater after phoning his secretary to bar any other visitor. A pretty young lady comes in at that moment. She asks what kind of drink I would like to take. She lists almost all the wines and soft drinks in the world. “A glass of table water is okay by me.” I flash a smile at her. Rotimi objects to my request. He says I wouldn’t take a glass of water alone. Somehow, he knows I don’t feel comfortable. He asks the lady to bring two bottles of Pomerol with the water. He knows my best wine. Several times we had dined together when I was still wallowing in money. At last we set to business. “When I returned from France almost two years ago,” Rotimi says, after sipping a wine from a goblet,“ I couldn’t reach you again. I misplaced the phone I was using then. So I lost all contacts… I went to check you in your office at Port Harcourt, I was told the place had been sold out… same thing your two mansions. I have been looking for a way to meet you, until yesterday when I saw you packing some things behind that truck… I was not pleased with the way I met you at all. Dele, hint me… what is happening to you?” I take a sigh, and grunt sorrowfully. I explain to him how the ship that was bringing my goods from Spain had drowned in the sea. “I lost about a billion naira worth of goods,” I continue, “The bank had to sell almost all my properties to recover my debts.” “That is a sad story,” Rotimi sighs, stooping his head. He pauses for some time and continues, “ anyway, such is life. So you are now driving for a living?” “Yes,” I reply, shrugging, “what else can I do? That is my fate.” Rotimi’s face is etched with concern at my statement. He reminds me of over two years ago. He makes me realize that the six million naira he asked me to lend him, which I eventually gave him, is the source of his fortune today. I am surprised to hear that. “How is that possible?” My voice is toned with doubt, “How did you acquire all these wealth with that money?” He narrates to me how he had gone to France for business. On getting there, he visited a white man whom he had met on the internet. The man offered to help him by signing a contract with him. He requested Rotimi to store some wares in his own shop with the money he had. It was there he made huge sales that made him a multimillionaire. Rotimi was a banker who received hundred thousand naira per month when I met him three years ago. “If I decide to divide my wealth into two and give you a half of it, you really worth it.” He says with gravity in his tone, “But I will make sure you rise to greatness again.” I shift to the edge of the couch, “I will be grateful if you can help me with a token which I can start a business with.” Rotimi’s mouth widens with a smile, “Dele, you are very funny. What business do you want to start with a token amount?” He pulses his lips and hums thoughtfully for a moment, “Okay. okay. Let’s do it like this … Give me your account number. I am going to send thirty millionaire into your account for a start. The money will be there before nightfall. I won’t tell you the business to do. I know you have a business sense.” My heart almost bursts out of my chest as I adjust on my seat, “All that for me? May God continue to bless you, my friend. You shall not face a downfall in your life…”
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 7)
“Don’t bother yourself with too much prayer,” he interrupts me, “you are only reaping the seed you have sown. Just down your wine.” Rotimi diverts the conversation to family life. He asks after my wife and child. I told him I don’t have any baby yet. He is surprised. He says he had a female kid some months back. He further says that his wife and the new born baby are now in Paris, spending some time with his mother. I hit the road back as I leave Rotimi’s office. Today would be the last day to drive this trash if Rotimi fulfills his promise to me. Oh, Titi will be very happy to hear this great news! First of all, I will open a boutique for her in the heart of the town. After making profit from the business, I will build or buy a mansion in a place like Lekki phase-1 or Dolphin estate. I want Titi to bear my first child in the U.S. Lara has been a nice girl to me. I will send her abroad to conclude her education … Anyway, I shouldn’t start counting my chickens before they are hatched. I am getting home by past nine in the night. Titi usually returns from shop by 7pm. I notice there are some missing pictures on the wall of the living room. I smile. Titi must have done sanitation in the house today. In the bedroom, the wardrobe top is also scanty. I’m only seeing just two pairs of shoe in Titi’s shoe save. I hang my T-shirt on the hanger after taking off my shoe. I feel like resting, but I think I have to see Titi for the good news. I make my way to the kitchen. She is not there. “Sweetie, I am back!” I say as I walk towards the shower. I check the shower. Empty. I do not bother myself again. I lie on the bed to rest a little. Titi must be around; perhaps with our flat mate, Elizabeth. That is the only friend she has in the house. “Uncle Dele!” Lara’s voice jerk me to consciousness from my drowsiness, “So you are back.” I sit up sleepily, “Omolara … where is Titilayo?” Lara’s face glares with puzzlement at my question, “She didn’t tell you she is travelling today?” “No!” I reply with confusion, “travelling to where?” Lara shrugs, “I wouldn’t know … I just saw her pack her loads inside a taxi this afternoon. When I asked her whereabouts, she said you have already known the place, and it’s confidential.” “What! Titi said so?” “Yes.” Lara nods with a look of surprise on her face, “You mean you don’t know about it?” I dip my hand into my pocket, “Don’t worry. Let me call her number.” I dial the number twice. It’s not reachable. I dial it again. I can hear it ring, but no response till it enters voice mail. I redial once more. The phone barely rings this time before I hear her voice from the receiver. “Hello, Titi where are you?” I say in a calm voice. The next thing I hear is a laughter – a prolonged one. “I said where are you?!” My voice thunders this time. “Don’t kill yourself with hypertension,” She says, “If you want to know where I am, Open your wardrobe and see.” “Are you kidding me? What does my wardrobe have to do with where you are.” “Just do as I say. Okay?” She says. Without a further fuss, I headed straight to the wardrobe.
“Don’t bother yourself with too much prayer,” he interrupts me, “you are only reaping the seed you have sown. Just down your wine.” Rotimi diverts the conversation to family life. He asks after my wife and child. I told him I don’t have any baby yet. He is surprised. He says he had a female kid some months back. He further says that his wife and the new born baby are now in Paris, spending some time with his mother. I hit the road back as I leave Rotimi’s office. Today would be the last day to drive this trash if Rotimi fulfills his promise to me. Oh, Titi will be very happy to hear this great news! First of all, I will open a boutique for her in the heart of the town. After making profit from the business, I will build or buy a mansion in a place like Lekki phase-1 or Dolphin estate. I want Titi to bear my first child in the U.S. Lara has been a nice girl to me. I will send her abroad to conclude her education … Anyway, I shouldn’t start counting my chickens before they are hatched. I am getting home by past nine in the night. Titi usually returns from shop by 7pm. I notice there are some missing pictures on the wall of the living room. I smile. Titi must have done sanitation in the house today. In the bedroom, the wardrobe top is also scanty. I’m only seeing just two pairs of shoe in Titi’s shoe save. I hang my T-shirt on the hanger after taking off my shoe. I feel like resting, but I think I have to see Titi for the good news. I make my way to the kitchen. She is not there. “Sweetie, I am back!” I say as I walk towards the shower. I check the shower. Empty. I do not bother myself again. I lie on the bed to rest a little. Titi must be around; perhaps with our flat mate, Elizabeth. That is the only friend she has in the house. “Uncle Dele!” Lara’s voice jerk me to consciousness from my drowsiness, “So you are back.” I sit up sleepily, “Omolara … where is Titilayo?” Lara’s face glares with puzzlement at my question, “She didn’t tell you she is travelling today?” “No!” I reply with confusion, “travelling to where?” Lara shrugs, “I wouldn’t know … I just saw her pack her loads inside a taxi this afternoon. When I asked her whereabouts, she said you have already known the place, and it’s confidential.” “What! Titi said so?” “Yes.” Lara nods with a look of surprise on her face, “You mean you don’t know about it?” I dip my hand into my pocket, “Don’t worry. Let me call her number.” I dial the number twice. It’s not reachable. I dial it again. I can hear it ring, but no response till it enters voice mail. I redial once more. The phone barely rings this time before I hear her voice from the receiver. “Hello, Titi where are you?” I say in a calm voice. The next thing I hear is a laughter – a prolonged one. “I said where are you?!” My voice thunders this time. “Don’t kill yourself with hypertension,” She says, “If you want to know where I am, Open your wardrobe and see.” “Are you kidding me? What does my wardrobe have to do with where you are.” “Just do as I say. Okay?” She says. Without a further fuss, I headed straight to the wardrobe.
THE THORN ON MY FLESH (EPISODE 7)
I open the wardrobe
almost with force. There is nothing there apart from my cloths! But a piece of
paper falls from somewhere. Slowly I pick up the folded paper. I unfold it. It
becomes Titi’s handwriting. The content goes like this: “Dear Bamidele, I am
using this moment to tell you that I am off your life for good. I can’t cope
with this suffering any longer. I have already met a man who is ready to take
care of me. I can’t bear my first child for a mere truck driver who can be
sacked any day. It’s so fortunate for me that I didn’t get pregnant before you
turned like this. I think God really loves me. I have actually been using
contraceptive drugs since when things suddenly changed. That is the reason why
I have been avoiding any s-x from you lately. I apologize if I have hurt you
with that. Go and cancel our courtship. I am wedding my new man very soon.
Don’t bother to look for me at all. I am now living in paradise. Concerning the
phone that caused disagreement between us in the morning, my sweet heart bought
it for me, and he sent that message you saw too. I know how you will feel after
reading this letter. May God provide you with your own wife … Bye.” Tears roll
down my cheeks as I shake my head, “Why would Titi behave like this? why don’t
you have enough patience?” “Uncle, what is the matter? Why the tears?” Lara
moves close to me, “ May I see what’s inside the paper?” I hand the letter to
Lara. Her mouth turns agape with shock after reading it. I intentionally let
her read it. I really want Lara to learn from what I’m about to reveal to her.
“Uncle, don’t dwell upon it,” Lara sits beside me at the edge of the bed where
I’ve bowed my head, “May God enrich you with wealth and provide for you a
faithful and everlasting wife … I believe sister Titilayo is not meant for you.
Otherwise she will stand by you under any condition … And Granny once told me
about two categories of women before her death. The first one is like a
chameleon who is adapted to any environmental condition; even the time when
danger is at hand… The second is a bird of heron. A bird of heron would fly off
when a wetland turns a desert… I think sister Titilayo falls into the latter
category. ” I was surprised to hear that from Lara; a nineteen-year-old girl? I
don’t need to tell her my mind again. She has said it all. “Thank you,
Omolara,” I reveal my face with a small smile, “that is a wise word from you. I
won’t think about it. okay?” Lara asks what food I feel like eating. I told her
I have no appetite. She gives me a questioning look that suggests: “Are you
still brooding over it?” “I know you are still thinking about it.” She echoes
my thought at last. “No, I am not.” I protest, “I am just stuffed for now.
Thank you.” Lara bids me good night, and I reply in a cheerful voice. When Lara
had gone, I check my phone again. I keep staring at the alert of thirty million
in my account. I shake my head with a distress mixed with joy. The joy is for
the money, and the sadness, of course, is for my wayward Love. At daybreak I
decide to call Titi’s parents for what their daughter had just done. But I
remember that her father has a mental problem. I learnt that excessive
weed-smoking turns him like that. He had been moved to many psychiatric
hospitals for treatment, but he still behaves abnormal. Most times when you are
telling him about A, he would talk about B. On one occasion when I went to
their house, I saw him watching TV. I greeted him and he responded well. At one
instant, I noticed him lift up his leg while using his toes to press the remote
control. I asked him why he refused to use his fingers. Then he told me his
hand didn’t produce any result on the TV screen. When I checked the remote, I
realized there was no battery in it. The old man was not even present on our
wedding day. He was replaced with his elder brother. So I have no choice than
to report Titi to her mother.
“Hello, ma’am.” “Hello o,” says Titi’s Mum, from the receiver, “hope there is no problem?” “There is, Ma.” My voice falls brutally, but the woman’s voice sounds rather aggressive. It is unlike her. Over the years she would respond with: “Hello, my wonderful son in-law.” “Okay. what is the matter?” She asks. “Mama, Titi had packed her luggage to another man’s house.” “Really? When?” “Yesterday, Ma.” Then the woman says bluntly, “anyway, She had come to report you to me several times. She said you don’t take care of her, and she doesn’t want you to ruin her beauty. The advice I gave her was to take any action that would favour her… But I don’t know about this.” “I’m taking care of her the best way I can, Mama,” my voice trembles with tears in it, “ and, besides, there is no sign of suffering on her. Mama, I love Titi so much. Why must she betray me?” “Are you asking me that? Whichever way, I will call her and talk to her. If she doesn’t turn up, I don’t know what to do. I can’t force her on you.” I refuse to say any more word. I just drop the phone on the bed. This woman is so obnoxious! she is now showing her real character to me. It sounds like she knows about her daughter’s whereabouts. Before I married Titi her parents were living in a rented flat apartment, and I gave them money to build a house of their own. I think some mother-in-laws are really devils! **** Four weeks passed, I receive no call from Titi’s mother. I’d tried the woman’s number countless times, but she wouldn’t pick up the phone, and I didn’t bother to call her again. I think I should stop deceiving myself. Although, over the weeks, I had gone to my church to give testimony, and I received a blessing from the pastor for the business I was about to do. Now I’m a proud owner of a car depot. Rotimi had added 25 million naira to the money two weeks ago. I never know that a friend like him still exists on this planet. I still remain in my rented apartment. When I make enough profit I will build a house of my own. The car I’m riding now is the latest Toyota corolla. On this certain night I am lying on the bed, deep in thought. At that moment I hear a knock at the door. I ask the person to come in. I am shocked to see Titi. She moves close to me timidly with her luggage. As I sit up to rage at her like a storm, she collapses to her two knees. “I … I have not come to deceive you this time,” she says in a weak voice, “I am very sorry, my love. I know I have hurt you, but please find a place in your heart to forgive me.” After a long pause of devastation, my voice booms like a gun, “I can’t just believe you can do what you did, Titi! With all your promises to me… How can I ever trust you again?” Titi burst into tears; her eyes appear to me like a dark cloud that let loose a heavy rain...
“Hello, ma’am.” “Hello o,” says Titi’s Mum, from the receiver, “hope there is no problem?” “There is, Ma.” My voice falls brutally, but the woman’s voice sounds rather aggressive. It is unlike her. Over the years she would respond with: “Hello, my wonderful son in-law.” “Okay. what is the matter?” She asks. “Mama, Titi had packed her luggage to another man’s house.” “Really? When?” “Yesterday, Ma.” Then the woman says bluntly, “anyway, She had come to report you to me several times. She said you don’t take care of her, and she doesn’t want you to ruin her beauty. The advice I gave her was to take any action that would favour her… But I don’t know about this.” “I’m taking care of her the best way I can, Mama,” my voice trembles with tears in it, “ and, besides, there is no sign of suffering on her. Mama, I love Titi so much. Why must she betray me?” “Are you asking me that? Whichever way, I will call her and talk to her. If she doesn’t turn up, I don’t know what to do. I can’t force her on you.” I refuse to say any more word. I just drop the phone on the bed. This woman is so obnoxious! she is now showing her real character to me. It sounds like she knows about her daughter’s whereabouts. Before I married Titi her parents were living in a rented flat apartment, and I gave them money to build a house of their own. I think some mother-in-laws are really devils! **** Four weeks passed, I receive no call from Titi’s mother. I’d tried the woman’s number countless times, but she wouldn’t pick up the phone, and I didn’t bother to call her again. I think I should stop deceiving myself. Although, over the weeks, I had gone to my church to give testimony, and I received a blessing from the pastor for the business I was about to do. Now I’m a proud owner of a car depot. Rotimi had added 25 million naira to the money two weeks ago. I never know that a friend like him still exists on this planet. I still remain in my rented apartment. When I make enough profit I will build a house of my own. The car I’m riding now is the latest Toyota corolla. On this certain night I am lying on the bed, deep in thought. At that moment I hear a knock at the door. I ask the person to come in. I am shocked to see Titi. She moves close to me timidly with her luggage. As I sit up to rage at her like a storm, she collapses to her two knees. “I … I have not come to deceive you this time,” she says in a weak voice, “I am very sorry, my love. I know I have hurt you, but please find a place in your heart to forgive me.” After a long pause of devastation, my voice booms like a gun, “I can’t just believe you can do what you did, Titi! With all your promises to me… How can I ever trust you again?” Titi burst into tears; her eyes appear to me like a dark cloud that let loose a heavy rain...
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 8)
“I promise. I will never try to betray your love again,” Titi says
tearfully, “Any air I breathe, I breathe them for you, baby. I realize that you
are the light that feeds the sun in my world. You are my soul. You are my
every….” “Ss-ssh!” I interrupt her as she rattles on. I place my finger over
her lips, and I draw her closer. Slowly I turn her face up. Her lips tremble,
obviously yearning for a kiss. In her captivating eyeballs I can see paradise.
I know she is afraid. I ease the tension for her by aiming my lips towards
hers. Now she is holding my head closer and closer…. “Uncle Dele, the food is
ready!” A voice from a far distance halts me as our lips are about to clash.
“Uncle, wake up!” A touch on my feet yank me back to my right senses. I touch
my lips as I sit up from the bed. “Have I been dreaming or hallucinating?”I
mutter to myself after Lara left for the dinning. I take a deep breath. I have
been dreaming about this girl over the past four weeks. No matter what I do her
thought would sneak to my mind. “I need to uproot all her thoughts from my mind
and start a new life.” I say to myself. The only way I think I can get rid of
her memory is to keep drinking myself to oblivion for many weeks. It does work
for me. I really need to go and take some bottles of wines tonight as well. I
don’t pray to dream about her again. If she ever comes back I shall never take
her. That dream must be very stupid! I take a glance on my wrist watch. 8:30pm.
Then I head for a hotel down the town. Approaching the hotel club, I hear the
sound of music setting fire of life into the atmosphere as usual. The rocking
beats send many people swaying on their seats like leaves that can’t resist the
blow of the wind. The music playing now is ‘I love my baby’ by Wizkid. People
of different ranks maintain their reserved places inside the club. The men of
affluence have their separate gathering at one end of the club; their center
tables are littered with expensive wines. The disco light flickers over and
over. Through its multi-colour reflections I can see ladies of different
statures, twisting their buttocks in front of their men, or rather their
concubines. I decide to take my seat at the verandah of the club. The place is
a bit silent. I can feel the tender fingers of the breeze caressing my skin. I
am the only one sitting at the circle of five deck-chairs. Some ladies are
sitting at the circle of chairs not too far from me. They are seven in number.
One of the bartenders soon hurries towards my table. I order for three bottles
of champagne. And in next to no time, they are placed in front of me. I gulp
two fills from the goblet, and I relax myself. Now I can see some of the ladies
stealing backward glances at me while pointing fingers. To them, they are doing
that secretly, but I notice it all. One of them dip her finger in her mouth as
she casts an amorous look towards me, and another keeps flaunting the wisps of
her long hair. I begin to wonder why ladies always shoot seductive looks at me
anywhere I am; even right from my teenage! Perhaps it’s because of my tallness,
pleasing masculine features, and finally my built physique complemented by a
fair skin. My eyes suddenly fixes on one particular lady. She is sitting
between those two girls I am seeing directly. very fast my heart beat as I
drink in that angelic sight. Can people be so alike? She really shares same
features with Jumoke, my first lover, who I lost about 17 years back. She died
from typhoid fever. I nearly drank a poison the day I heard about Jummy’s
death. Our housemaid came just in time to save me from untimely death. I
couldn’t believe I could get over her thought, but with a continuous
drunkenness her memory dissolved to a low rate. Now the memory is haunting me
back at the sight of this enchantress. Through the reflection of the
streetlights far behind them, I can see the smiles that spread across her face.
It’s just like that of my long lost Love! I think people are created double… I
take a long sigh, and I begin to fill my empty wine cup. “Oh my goodness!” I
have spilled the wine all over the table and it slushes on my cloth. I bow my
head, using my hand to tap it off for almost one minute, but it doesn’t seem to
help matter. “I need to call this bar man for a hand towel.” “You may use this
handkerchief to wipe it off.” A gentle feminine voice says from above me, and I
reveal my face to behold the good Samaritan.
She is one of those girls that were looking at me… a teenage girl. I guess she is less than eighteen. But she seems to have a big stature. She is gorgeously and decently dressed. Reluctantly I receive the white handkerchief. “That you so much, Miss.” I flash a smile at her. “Don’t mention, sir.” She smiles timidly, “ I wonder why you are sitting here alone.” “You mean me?” I reveal my face from the cleaning with a welcoming smile. “Yes,” she affirms shyly, “why not sit close to the more lively area over there.” She points towards the set of seats next to their gathering. “Oh, nothing. Never mind,” I smile, “this very spot is my favourite; Perhaps it’s because of the palm tree behind here. The air feels more refreshing here too… by the way, what’s the name of this young princess?” “I’m Shewa.” “That name really befits you, you know…” I say simply with a questioning look. “Thanks … Anyway, my sister actually asked me to give you the handkerchief.” “Really? Who is your sister?” “She is the fair lady on a purple top and a pink bandanna.” I look straight to confirm the person. I am stunned to realize that it’s the lady that just caught my heart. She diverts her face somewhere else the moment I look towards her. “Please, can you help me tell your sister I would like to thank her personally?” “Yeah, why not,” says the girl, enthusiastically. She immediately waves into the air when the least I expect from her is to go whisper to her ears. The lady sees the gesture, and she pats the girl that is seated beside her on the shoulder. The lady springs to her feet and adjusts her wears. Shewa ascertains that she is really calling her; not the other lady. Then she takes to her feet elegantly and the other lady sits back slowly. I guess she is really embarrassed, for she supports her cheeks with her two hands while she stares gloomily at her friend. As the lady walks closer, my heart drums loudly and my eyelids seem to dance to the rhythms. I mean my eyes are really fluttering. She appears more beautiful than what I was seeing from afar. At that moment her sibling begin to walk away. I quickly call her back and thank her once more. When my heart-throb reaches me I tell her I appreciate her good gesture. She wears that killing smile again and says: “Don’t mention. I just felt obliged to do that.” Wow! Her voice sounds very pleasant. And funny enough the voice might not be thrilling for singing; maybe I should try her. I also like a girl that has a nice singing voice. My late Jumoke was the only girlfriend that is endowed with that so far. “Are you into music?” I am forced to ask her. “Why did you ask?” She beams. “I think I’m just curious.” She seems to be pulsing her lips invitingly while turning her catchy eyeballs. It’s like she is searching for the right way to answer me. “I wonder if you can sit here for a moment,” I show her the chair across my seat, “that is … if you wouldn’t mind.”
She is one of those girls that were looking at me… a teenage girl. I guess she is less than eighteen. But she seems to have a big stature. She is gorgeously and decently dressed. Reluctantly I receive the white handkerchief. “That you so much, Miss.” I flash a smile at her. “Don’t mention, sir.” She smiles timidly, “ I wonder why you are sitting here alone.” “You mean me?” I reveal my face from the cleaning with a welcoming smile. “Yes,” she affirms shyly, “why not sit close to the more lively area over there.” She points towards the set of seats next to their gathering. “Oh, nothing. Never mind,” I smile, “this very spot is my favourite; Perhaps it’s because of the palm tree behind here. The air feels more refreshing here too… by the way, what’s the name of this young princess?” “I’m Shewa.” “That name really befits you, you know…” I say simply with a questioning look. “Thanks … Anyway, my sister actually asked me to give you the handkerchief.” “Really? Who is your sister?” “She is the fair lady on a purple top and a pink bandanna.” I look straight to confirm the person. I am stunned to realize that it’s the lady that just caught my heart. She diverts her face somewhere else the moment I look towards her. “Please, can you help me tell your sister I would like to thank her personally?” “Yeah, why not,” says the girl, enthusiastically. She immediately waves into the air when the least I expect from her is to go whisper to her ears. The lady sees the gesture, and she pats the girl that is seated beside her on the shoulder. The lady springs to her feet and adjusts her wears. Shewa ascertains that she is really calling her; not the other lady. Then she takes to her feet elegantly and the other lady sits back slowly. I guess she is really embarrassed, for she supports her cheeks with her two hands while she stares gloomily at her friend. As the lady walks closer, my heart drums loudly and my eyelids seem to dance to the rhythms. I mean my eyes are really fluttering. She appears more beautiful than what I was seeing from afar. At that moment her sibling begin to walk away. I quickly call her back and thank her once more. When my heart-throb reaches me I tell her I appreciate her good gesture. She wears that killing smile again and says: “Don’t mention. I just felt obliged to do that.” Wow! Her voice sounds very pleasant. And funny enough the voice might not be thrilling for singing; maybe I should try her. I also like a girl that has a nice singing voice. My late Jumoke was the only girlfriend that is endowed with that so far. “Are you into music?” I am forced to ask her. “Why did you ask?” She beams. “I think I’m just curious.” She seems to be pulsing her lips invitingly while turning her catchy eyeballs. It’s like she is searching for the right way to answer me. “I wonder if you can sit here for a moment,” I show her the chair across my seat, “that is … if you wouldn’t mind.”
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 9)
“Thanks,” She settles herself on the chair and says, “ to answer
your question; I am, and I am not.” “How do you mean?” “I love singing, but I
do not take it as a profession.” “Hmn,” I grunt, nodding knowingly, “I thought
as much… Anyway, you might need to do something for me before you leave, but
let me introduce myself to you first.” I tell her my name and surname with a
handshake and she replies animatedly. She is Remilekun by name, and her friends
call her by Remson. “Re-mi-le-kun. That’s a beautiful name, just like the
bearer.” I smile. “Thanks. You’ve got a fine name too,” she blushes as our
hands depart from the lustful union. Her palm feels soft and tender in a way
that makes me want to feel it more and more. I let her know how much she shares
same look with my deceased lover. She expresses her sympathy, and blushes again
when I tell her that the extreme beauty are just the same. She must have known
I am proposing to her indirectly, for She grunts knowingly after my statement.
I tell her I’m really pleased to meet her. “It’s a pleasure meeting you too,”
She says, but this time the smile seems to show more in her eyes. After a pause
she demands what I said she has to do for me. “Oh, it’s nothing much,” I say,
“I just want you to sing for me. I’m in the mood to listen to a song without a
beat.” She bursts into a giggle and glances back at her friends, “you are so
funny. But I told you earlier that am not a musician.” “I know. I just feel
like hearing you sing – any song at all.” “Maybe later then.” She says shyly,
eyes narrow into an inviting slit. I persuade her that I am really hungry for
it than any food. She then laughs like a baby. “Okay. which song should I
sing?” “Anyone at all.” She wears a thoughtful look for a moment and clears her
throat. The lyric that comes from her mouth is ‘My heart will go on (Titanic)’
by Celine Deon.’ Her voice rises slowly like early morning sun. In my ears her
voice is competing with that of the original singer. I do not realize when my
eyes shut and I find myself swimming in ocean of affection. The air I’m
breathing smells like the fragrance of a virgin rose. The song continues – one
minute .. two minutes … With my sense I am measuring the time which I wish
would last an hour or more. With emotion, her voice rises and falls
rhythmically like sea waves. In the end, the passionate lyric drops gently from
her throat as cold water drops from the mouth of a fish. “Wow!” I begin to clap
wildly as a wave of excitement descend upon me, “This is a great voice!” “Thank
you,” she blushes; her eyelashes flutter. “So, we still have talent like yours
in this country?” I say after a little pause of wonder. “Don’t flatter me,
please.” She laughs. After a little more compliments we exchange contact. I
glance at my phone – 8:40pm. At that moment Remilekun takes an excuse. I can
see her sibling waving at her from afar. “I should be going now.” She says.
“Alright, catch yah.” I wave at her as she hurries away. I keep staring at her
until she disappears with her sibling out of the club compound.
After three weeks Remilekun and I have become intimate . Our friendship is beginning to graduate into a romantic relationship. Over the weeks we had one date at chicken republic and we spoke on phone every day and night. Although that didn’t disturb us from pinging every now and then. We have shared our life experiences. I told her my past, including how my housewife left me alone. Immediately she mentioned her father’s name, which she reluctantly did, I got to know that she is a daughter of one of the richest men in town. That, indeed, really shows in her behaviour. She always acts like ‘Ajebota’ or rather ‘Mummy’s pet’. Although I was brought up the same way, but all that changed when I began to face the mysteries of life. According to her, she is twenty-six years of age. She just finished serving last year and now she is going to start working as a director in one of her father’s cement-producing companies. During our date she told me she doesn’t like clubbing, but her friends had forced her that very night we met. She said one of them was celebrating her birthday. Remilekun wasn’t even shy to add that all her friends really admire my look. **** When I’m returning home from the office I pack by the road to call Remilekun. I hardly dial the number before her voice lulls my ear. “Hello, dear.” She says. “He-llo-o, my darling, princess Remson,” I say dramatically, and I can hear her smile, “When should I be expecting you? You promised you were coming to know my place yesterday, but you failed.” “Baby, I am so sorry,” She says with a real sorry voice, “ Mummy went out with my car and I didn’t want to take out any other car.” “Oh, what is wrong with Mum’s car now?” I mimic her usual babyish voice, and she chuckles. She says her Mum’s car is under repair. She let me realize that her car has the lowest status in their house, and right from time, she doesn’t like to ride expensive cars in order to disguise her personality. She further says that her elder brother is riding the latest range rover sport, and her only younger sister, whom I met that night, is also using an expensive one. “And Why don’t you like to show your true personality?” I get curious. “I’ll tell you later.” She breathes. “Okay. Is that another promise?” “Yeah.” At last she promises that she is coming to my place on her way back from Sunday service, which is tomorrow. They normally close from their church by 2: 0 clock. We say goodbye to each other. On Sunday evening, around 4:0 clock, Remilekun has not shown up. I have tried her number several times, but I couldn’t get her through. I have been reading daily times in the sitting room. Every slight sound at the door seems to alert me. And any droning of a car would make me go to the windowpane to peep downstairs. I have done that up to four times, for I am staying at the third floor. If Remilekun should bring her car, there wouldn’t be a parking space for her as the compound is already choked with cars. So the only thing I have to watch out for is a knock at the door. I have already given her my address and she claimed she is used to my area. And therefore the address to my flat wouldn’t prove difficult for her. She is the only guest I am expecting for today. I’ve filled my bar and freezer with her favourite drinks. I asked Lara to prepare some fried chickens, noodles and salad for her before she left for her Mum’s place in the morning. Of course, I have got to know all her favourites through our regular interactions. Lara is going to return in the night. About fifteen minutes later I hear a knock at the door; my heart lurches with excitement. But it has started raining heavily outside. I place the daily times on the center table, and I adjust my cloth as I walk to the door. “Oga, sir. Person dey look for you for ‘down-down’,” Our gateman says to me as I open the door. The old man is an illiterate who speaks pidgin English with a strong Yoruba accent. “You mean downstairs?” I asked politely. “Yes, na down-down steer.” The man points his finger downwards from the balcony. I finally ask the man in Yoruba if the guest is a male or female, and I am glad to hear it’s a female. The old man must have asked her to stay behind. I quickly rush downstairs with the man, but who I meet there is not Remilekun. The lady is one of Lara’s beautiful friends who is completely soaked in the rain.
After three weeks Remilekun and I have become intimate . Our friendship is beginning to graduate into a romantic relationship. Over the weeks we had one date at chicken republic and we spoke on phone every day and night. Although that didn’t disturb us from pinging every now and then. We have shared our life experiences. I told her my past, including how my housewife left me alone. Immediately she mentioned her father’s name, which she reluctantly did, I got to know that she is a daughter of one of the richest men in town. That, indeed, really shows in her behaviour. She always acts like ‘Ajebota’ or rather ‘Mummy’s pet’. Although I was brought up the same way, but all that changed when I began to face the mysteries of life. According to her, she is twenty-six years of age. She just finished serving last year and now she is going to start working as a director in one of her father’s cement-producing companies. During our date she told me she doesn’t like clubbing, but her friends had forced her that very night we met. She said one of them was celebrating her birthday. Remilekun wasn’t even shy to add that all her friends really admire my look. **** When I’m returning home from the office I pack by the road to call Remilekun. I hardly dial the number before her voice lulls my ear. “Hello, dear.” She says. “He-llo-o, my darling, princess Remson,” I say dramatically, and I can hear her smile, “When should I be expecting you? You promised you were coming to know my place yesterday, but you failed.” “Baby, I am so sorry,” She says with a real sorry voice, “ Mummy went out with my car and I didn’t want to take out any other car.” “Oh, what is wrong with Mum’s car now?” I mimic her usual babyish voice, and she chuckles. She says her Mum’s car is under repair. She let me realize that her car has the lowest status in their house, and right from time, she doesn’t like to ride expensive cars in order to disguise her personality. She further says that her elder brother is riding the latest range rover sport, and her only younger sister, whom I met that night, is also using an expensive one. “And Why don’t you like to show your true personality?” I get curious. “I’ll tell you later.” She breathes. “Okay. Is that another promise?” “Yeah.” At last she promises that she is coming to my place on her way back from Sunday service, which is tomorrow. They normally close from their church by 2: 0 clock. We say goodbye to each other. On Sunday evening, around 4:0 clock, Remilekun has not shown up. I have tried her number several times, but I couldn’t get her through. I have been reading daily times in the sitting room. Every slight sound at the door seems to alert me. And any droning of a car would make me go to the windowpane to peep downstairs. I have done that up to four times, for I am staying at the third floor. If Remilekun should bring her car, there wouldn’t be a parking space for her as the compound is already choked with cars. So the only thing I have to watch out for is a knock at the door. I have already given her my address and she claimed she is used to my area. And therefore the address to my flat wouldn’t prove difficult for her. She is the only guest I am expecting for today. I’ve filled my bar and freezer with her favourite drinks. I asked Lara to prepare some fried chickens, noodles and salad for her before she left for her Mum’s place in the morning. Of course, I have got to know all her favourites through our regular interactions. Lara is going to return in the night. About fifteen minutes later I hear a knock at the door; my heart lurches with excitement. But it has started raining heavily outside. I place the daily times on the center table, and I adjust my cloth as I walk to the door. “Oga, sir. Person dey look for you for ‘down-down’,” Our gateman says to me as I open the door. The old man is an illiterate who speaks pidgin English with a strong Yoruba accent. “You mean downstairs?” I asked politely. “Yes, na down-down steer.” The man points his finger downwards from the balcony. I finally ask the man in Yoruba if the guest is a male or female, and I am glad to hear it’s a female. The old man must have asked her to stay behind. I quickly rush downstairs with the man, but who I meet there is not Remilekun. The lady is one of Lara’s beautiful friends who is completely soaked in the rain.
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 10)
My eyes quickly
scrutinize her figure. She is wearing a mini skirt and a thin harmless blouse
which has been made see-through by the rain, and one can see a good portion of
her bosoms from her string vest. Before I say anything she greets me, and she
says she was coming from somewhere and the rain started when she had walked faraway.
She decided to come here because our place is the closest shelter. “I am
feeling cold,” She says, shivering indeed, “I need to meet Lara to get me a dry
cloth and I will be leaving immediately the rain stops.” “Oh, you don’t bother
yourself with too much explanation,” I say, “just come in and change. It’s
really cold … Although your friend is not at home.” The look on her face shows
that she is disappointed or she would feel uncomfortable with only me around.
She shrugs her shoulders hopelessly and follows after me as I climb the
staircase. I directed her to Lara’s bedroom as we get inside. “Thank you, sir.”
she says. ”Just feel at home.” I say to her as I resume my seat. I switched on
the TV, and I changed the station to MTV base. I can see a considerable
difference in this wide flat-screen in comparison to the small one I was using
before. I have changed all the things in my apartment since I acquired my
wealth. I have discarded my old furniture for imported ones. I can see my clear
image through the grey imported tiles. I have changed the whole interior walls
from cream colour to white and the colour goes with my white couches with
curved silver arms; same thing on my glassy center table with silver curvy
legs. in short my apartment now looks like a paradise. Although the decoration
doesn’t suit my taste like the one I would have in my own mansion. The young
lady, or sexy Debby as Lara would address her, soon joins me in the sitting
room. She is now wearing one of Lara’s modest gowns. She is seated in the couch
right opposite me. She crosses her legs and focuses her attention on the TV.
Some minutes later, my eyes stray to her direction as I think I heard a sound
from somewhere. Then I realize that the girl has diverted her attention away
from the music video. She turns her head sharply towards the TV as our eyes are
about to meet. Who knows how long she has been staring at me? Maybe I need to
leave the sitting room for her. I don’t think I’m a type of man that takes
advantage of women. Besides that, my Remilekun will be here any moment from
now. In the midst of my thought, I hear a knock at the door. I hear the
gateman’s voice again. But this time he opens the door before I get there.
Surprisingly he appears with my darling Angel! I almost scream, but I restrain
myself. Instead, I simply give her a hug and she fills my cheeks with warm
pecks. I help her place her umbrella at one corner by the doorway.
“Hello!” Remilekun waves and smiles at Debby. She flashes a wave back with a forced smile. I suppose Remilekun never observes that cold response because she diverts her eyes to the surrounding of my sitting room. And I can see a big smile on her face as she does. “This place aint bad, after all.” Remilekun says, arching her left hand with pride. On her face I perceive a look that suggests, “It’s manageable; just for the mean time.” Now my eyes begin to survey Remilekun’s dressing the same way her eyes had surveyed my sitting-room. I think she has a great sense of fashion. She is cladded in a skirt and armless blouse that are made up of ankara and a glamorous European stuff. The purple dress matches her handbag and her high-heels. She is blessed with a robust butt and perfect hips. “Show me around!” She says. She walks abreast of me while crossing her arm into mine as if somebody is about to snatch me away from her. “Is that your sibling you told me about?” She asks me as I show her the kitchen. “No. she is not around,” I say with a look of assurance, “That girl is her best friend. She only came to shelter herself here till the rain stops.” “I see,” she says, nodding her head. I can tell from her facial expression that she noticed the girl’s bad manner. “What did you see?” I ask blankly. “Never mind.” She wears a naughty smile, moving around to survey the kitchenware. “You know I am still managing this flat until probably two months’ time.” “Yes. I understand,” she takes a sigh, “anyway, can I take a shower?” The question sounds to me like a rhetorical question. Who am I to say NO to such a honorable request? “Yes, why not?” I say with a welcoming smile. She must be a carefree lady. Otherwise how can a woman request to bathe in a man’s house on the first visit! I wonder if I should ask her if she hadn’t bathed in her house in the morning, but I dare not. It is indeed a pleasure to me. “But … I have prepared your delicacies. You need to check them out after shower.”
“Hello!” Remilekun waves and smiles at Debby. She flashes a wave back with a forced smile. I suppose Remilekun never observes that cold response because she diverts her eyes to the surrounding of my sitting room. And I can see a big smile on her face as she does. “This place aint bad, after all.” Remilekun says, arching her left hand with pride. On her face I perceive a look that suggests, “It’s manageable; just for the mean time.” Now my eyes begin to survey Remilekun’s dressing the same way her eyes had surveyed my sitting-room. I think she has a great sense of fashion. She is cladded in a skirt and armless blouse that are made up of ankara and a glamorous European stuff. The purple dress matches her handbag and her high-heels. She is blessed with a robust butt and perfect hips. “Show me around!” She says. She walks abreast of me while crossing her arm into mine as if somebody is about to snatch me away from her. “Is that your sibling you told me about?” She asks me as I show her the kitchen. “No. she is not around,” I say with a look of assurance, “That girl is her best friend. She only came to shelter herself here till the rain stops.” “I see,” she says, nodding her head. I can tell from her facial expression that she noticed the girl’s bad manner. “What did you see?” I ask blankly. “Never mind.” She wears a naughty smile, moving around to survey the kitchenware. “You know I am still managing this flat until probably two months’ time.” “Yes. I understand,” she takes a sigh, “anyway, can I take a shower?” The question sounds to me like a rhetorical question. Who am I to say NO to such a honorable request? “Yes, why not?” I say with a welcoming smile. She must be a carefree lady. Otherwise how can a woman request to bathe in a man’s house on the first visit! I wonder if I should ask her if she hadn’t bathed in her house in the morning, but I dare not. It is indeed a pleasure to me. “But … I have prepared your delicacies. You need to check them out after shower.”
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 11)
Sometime later, I hear her calling my name and I walk towards
where the voice is calling from. I eventually locate her voice inside the
bedroom. She has already dressed up, sitting close to the standing mirror with
her sophisticated make-up kits. She is adding a pink grease on her lips. She is
looking ravishing with all the moderate applications on her face. Although she
still looked strikingly beautiful without them a while ago. “Could you help me
zip up this?” She points her finger towards her back. “Why not?” I move close
to help her, but immediately the zip is up I hear, “Ouch!” “What is it, dear?”
I ask softly. “Please, please, draw it down again,” She says painfully with a
babyish voice, “It has hooked my skin. Do it gently.” Now I am drawing it down
slowly, and suddenly I feel a grab on my hand. Remilekun is holding my arms
from over her shoulders, and she seems to be maneuvering them to where I don’t
know. Somehow I act in accordance to the destination. Finally I find my two
hands on her grape-shaped bosoms. She turns her face up to me; desires sparking
in her eyes. The word I can read out of her eyes is, “Come into me.” I
understand her. But I never had that in mind being her first visit here. Then
like a petrol on a dying fire my sexual urge begins to burn with rage. I become
harder than ever before. I draw her up gently from the seat without saying a
word, or rather I am saying something with my eyes. Things like, “Baby, I am
coming.” Gently she presses her lips into mine. We are both thirsty for the
watery milk that lay buried in our tongues and lips. From our nostrils we
exchange warm breaths which make our spirit become one. Her eyes are tightly
shut, but mine are partially closed. She soon wraps her arms over my head,
pushing it slowly towards her luscious grapes. I never knew, until now, that
her top had been stripped down. Neither did I know when she stripped off the
cups that are masking those tempting globes. in a breathy voice she urges me to
feed on them. As I obey my mistress a loud moan rises high into the air. A
little later she whispers another instruction into my ear, “I would like it if
you eat me before you occupy me … that’s why I had a shower.” I smirk … Is that
not a cunny language for the habit brought by the white men – using my tongue
to play with the honey well…she deserves that from me. What with that pure skin
that is not different from a fresh apple. In the end, I carry out the
instruction beyond what my mistress could imagine. After we both take a shower
we set to the dinning. By now the rain has stopped. Debby is no longer there. I
can see Remilekun’s eyes fixed on me; smile on her face. I urge her to continue
eating and she seems to be eating the food with passion. I am amazed that she
could finish the food she claimed she would only nibble at. When we are done
eating I see her rummaging her bag for something. At last she brings out the
holy Bible. “Swear to me,” she says to me, almost with tears in her voice, “
that you will never meet any woman after me.” She further says that I am the
second man that would see her private world. I have confirmed that – just like
a narrow road that has never been trodden by any foot. She tells me about the
guy that made her a woman who later broke her heart while she was on campus.
She says the young man left her for a lady that is not up to her standard.
“Some men have no heaven!” She continues with pressure in her tone; tears run
down her cheeks, “ and many of them are blind … I have once promised myself
that I wouldn’t meet any other man till my wedding night. But I don’t know what
charm you have used on me.” I am lost for words at her agony. I know how she
feels. The same way I felt when Titi left me for a rich man. But her own case
is different because her father is affluent. I hold the Bible which she had
already stretched at me. We both hold it at equal length. She asks me to swear
that I would never cheat on her or leave her till death do us apart and same
thing applies to me – then we both swear.
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 12)
I have been
reading about a young man who was arrested for drugs and human parts trafficking.
The man and his wife were apprehended together because the man points out that
his wife knows about his job. According to the report, the obnoxious man says
that the day his wife caught a human part with him they both take an oath – If
his wife ever leaks the story she would run mad. More so, he had given her a
condition that if she wouldn’t take the oath there and then he would add her to
his victims. He further says that the fetish he used for the oath wasn’t
potent, but he had to fake it because it’s hard for a woman to keep a secret.
Report states that the man had murdered up to twenty infants and seventeen
grownups. At first I skimmed through the content, but when I began to pay
attention on the details I discovered that the names of the couple are
mentioned. The wife shares same name and surname with my ex-wife. When I
examined the images of the criminals, a cold shiver ran down my spine as I
realized that Titi is in their midst. in fact I can see her weeping profusely
amongst five men. I guess the others are the accomplices. The reason for my
irresistible tears is that this same Titi told me a similar story about her
roommate in the university. The girl is Naomi by name and she had a boyfriend
called Harrison. The both lovers had been together right from 100 level.
Harrison had come from a rich home, and of course Naomi was proud of him. He
would buy Naomi the latest clothes, shoes, jewelries, perfume and the likes.
Naomi became one of the biggest girls on campus for her dazzling beauty and her
latest-in-town wears. But when they got to 300 level Harrison’s parents were
duped of a multimillion naira which consequently subdued their wealth to a
drastic level. Thenceforth, Harrison hardly fed himself let alone catering for
his girlfriend. Naomi was disappointed, but she coped with Harrison for two
semesters, hoping that everything would come back in place. At a time she
couldn’t bear it any longer. Her high status was beginning to fall on campus.
When the shame was too much she began to engage in prostitution in order to
keep up with other big girls. She would follow other big girls to clubs where
they would meet big men. She didn’t give Harrison much attention again, and she
scarcely picked up his phone call. One day Naomi went out as usual and she didn’t
return on the next day. Her roommates believed she had gone home on her way.
They tried her three numbers, but none of them responded. On the third day a
shocking news spread through the campus that Naomi’s corpse was sighted by the
bush around Idumota. Report came that all her private parts were gone… And
funny enough, it was that same day Harrison received a phone-call that her Dad
had received a billion naira contract. Harrison’s parents therefore became
richer than ever before. The man I’m seeing on this paper would have killed and
sold her private parts the day she caught him. Has she not leant enough from
the true life story she told? According to my late grandfather, “Learning is
solely meant for those whose minds and ears have not been padlocked by the
doom-seller.” Grandpa would always call Devil the doom-seller who sells his
goods to the adamant; especially those who are not governed by the words in the
holy books.
“Dele, tell me what is it? Why are you shedding tears?” Remilekun’s voice rings out again. Slowly I shake my head and heave a distressful sigh. “Now I believe that not all preachers are ruled by what they preach.” I say, almost to myself. “I can’t understand you.” Remilekun’s brows wrinkle with confusion. I showed Titi’s image to Remilekun amongst the culprits on the news page. She had once seen the picture we both snapped together in my photo album; so she quickly recognizes her. Then I narrate what I read to her. She gently collects the newspaper from me and read through with a rapt attention. I later relate the story Titi had once told me to Remilekun. She shakes her head with surprise. Then I see a mixed expression on Remilekun’s face – a sorry look beside a faint smile. I try to read her thought. She might be thinking that if Titi had not gone astray how would she have come across me. “They said the culprits are going to be fired on the 23rd of this month.” Remilekun says while she uses her finger to trace the date on the paper. “Really?” I hold the paper at the edge to verify it, “That is five days’ time … So, what am I going to do with the date?” “I suggest we go there to witness the trial.” Remilekun says thoughtfully. “Why do I need to witness that? I don’t think it’s necessary.” Remilekun drops a kiss on my forehead. She insists that we should go together. “Alright, we shall do just that.” I smile, kissing her lips softly. **** On the trial day Omolara is also with us in the court to witness the sentence. After long arguments and appeals by the competent lawyers, those men are eventually sentenced to die from firearms. Before the Judge can pass his sentence on Titilayo he allows a dead silence to pervade through the court. He shakes his head and sighs heavily – the same way I did when I saw the shocking news. The Judge then starts with a parable: “This would be a lesson to every woman like you outside there who are desperate for a pot full of cold water… and most of you do not care about the origin of such water… I am not saying that women shouldn’t marry rich personalities.…of course, apart from intercourse, money is the only means through which we can maintain our women and also take care of our children… But be wise in selecting the right rich men. Try to consult the right pastor or Imam – because we have fakes of them. Ask them to pray over it if the person is the right person for you or not. The desperate ones will never do that – nowadays, hardly can we find a woman who wants to strive with a man – maybe thirty percent out of hundred.” Having said that, the Judge adjusts his broad-framed spectacles and points directly at Titi’s husband whose face had been brutally bruised by whatever whip they have used on him.
“Dele, tell me what is it? Why are you shedding tears?” Remilekun’s voice rings out again. Slowly I shake my head and heave a distressful sigh. “Now I believe that not all preachers are ruled by what they preach.” I say, almost to myself. “I can’t understand you.” Remilekun’s brows wrinkle with confusion. I showed Titi’s image to Remilekun amongst the culprits on the news page. She had once seen the picture we both snapped together in my photo album; so she quickly recognizes her. Then I narrate what I read to her. She gently collects the newspaper from me and read through with a rapt attention. I later relate the story Titi had once told me to Remilekun. She shakes her head with surprise. Then I see a mixed expression on Remilekun’s face – a sorry look beside a faint smile. I try to read her thought. She might be thinking that if Titi had not gone astray how would she have come across me. “They said the culprits are going to be fired on the 23rd of this month.” Remilekun says while she uses her finger to trace the date on the paper. “Really?” I hold the paper at the edge to verify it, “That is five days’ time … So, what am I going to do with the date?” “I suggest we go there to witness the trial.” Remilekun says thoughtfully. “Why do I need to witness that? I don’t think it’s necessary.” Remilekun drops a kiss on my forehead. She insists that we should go together. “Alright, we shall do just that.” I smile, kissing her lips softly. **** On the trial day Omolara is also with us in the court to witness the sentence. After long arguments and appeals by the competent lawyers, those men are eventually sentenced to die from firearms. Before the Judge can pass his sentence on Titilayo he allows a dead silence to pervade through the court. He shakes his head and sighs heavily – the same way I did when I saw the shocking news. The Judge then starts with a parable: “This would be a lesson to every woman like you outside there who are desperate for a pot full of cold water… and most of you do not care about the origin of such water… I am not saying that women shouldn’t marry rich personalities.…of course, apart from intercourse, money is the only means through which we can maintain our women and also take care of our children… But be wise in selecting the right rich men. Try to consult the right pastor or Imam – because we have fakes of them. Ask them to pray over it if the person is the right person for you or not. The desperate ones will never do that – nowadays, hardly can we find a woman who wants to strive with a man – maybe thirty percent out of hundred.” Having said that, the Judge adjusts his broad-framed spectacles and points directly at Titi’s husband whose face had been brutally bruised by whatever whip they have used on him.
THE THORN ON MY FLESH
(EPISODE 13)
*“….And report states that this man is not your early husband. You
have left your early husband because his business collapsed. Yoruba people
would say, ‘Igida eye fo.’ When a place is devoid of trees, birds shall surely
vacate… Now this is my judgment,” at the mention of that, all the chairs begin
to squeak. Everyone begins to adjust on their seats, “As an accomplice to a
murderer, I sentence this lady to ten years imprisonment.” With that, the Judge
vacates his seat. The courtroom bursts with loud grumbles and one woman starts
wailing at this moment. Then some people are consoling her. On a better look, I
realize that the woman is Titi’s mother. Titi’s eyes begin to flood with tears
as the police begin to lead her and other culprits out of the court. When we
get outside I ask one of the police to give me some minutes to talk to the lady
among the culprits. The officer kindly grants me five minutes. He signals to
the sergeant that is leading them to permit me. I walk up to Titi with Lara and
Remilekun. Immediately she sees us, she quickly wipes her tears. Her face goes
blank with shock as she examines me from my head to toe. She must have seen the
sign of wealth on me. “You are surprised; right?” I say to her, “you thought
when you left me I would die or what? The very day you packed your loads out of
my house was the day God answered my prayer. I believe God is not asleep
wherever he is. The absence of faith and patience in your life actually leads
you to this pit of misfortune… see the lady beside me,” I point at Remilekun, “
that is the wife you prayed God should provide for me in your letter. And I
thank God I met the right person. You are just a dark memory in my life. You
refuse to bear me a child. Now my wife is four weeks pregnant.” At the mention
of that Titi’s regretful face begin to stream with hot tears again. She stares
remorsefully at her mother who had arrived there in the midst of my
conversation. Titi shakes her head and bursts into a sob, “Mama, see what you
have caused to my life! Even if I’m eventually free from the prison, can I ever
bear a child of my own? Dele, you need to forgive me. The abortion I had before
I left your house damaged my womb. Mama advised me to do that.” On hearing
that, Lara’s mouth is widely opened with shock. All of a sudden Titi pounces on
her mother’s shoulder with her teeth. One of the officers pulls her just in
time. If the police didn’t succeed in holding her back she might have bitten
the old woman to death. And indeed, little fault is that of her mother. She is
the one that presents herself as the thorn on our flesh..*
… THE END.
Author: Joan H. Richardson
THANKS FOR READING…
YOUR USEFUL THOUGHTS/COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED
6 comments
She was the torn in the flesh of Bamidele.God remove the torn for him.Thanks for the story.
wow...!!! this is not only captivating, its educative n quite interesting. I like the wise words that have been used throughout the narration. Kudos to the great work!! I'm checking this space for more.
you all are welcome...
please visit from time to time for more are coming your way.
Thanks...
this is real lessons for life...patience pays
PATIENCE!!!
Interesting, you will surely step up as you post to give us d lessons of life
I will forever be indebted to the great Doctor TAKUTA for fixing my broken marriage after my husband left me for his mistress for 3 months. I never believed in spells until my friend introduced me to him. At first, I was skeptical about him because I heard a lots about false spell casters but I put my doubts behind me for i was desperate to get my husband back and I did according to what he instructed me to do. Now my husband is back just within 48 hours of contacting him. I'm living happily with my husband again after months of divorce and I will not rest till he's known all over the world. He's also specialize in money spells, lottery spells, sickness spells E.T.C. Get connected with Doctor Takuta now, his email is takutaspellalter@gmail.com or WhatsApp on +2348158676990
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