FEMININE FLAIRS: BIG, BOLD AND BEAUTIFUL

By Bukky Idowu

How do you see yourself sister? It is the way you see yourself that is quite important. You don’t have to bother your head on how people see you. I always feel sad when people complain about fat, plump, robust, plus–sized or more derogatory word “Orobo” ladies. I feel sadder when this object of ridicule complain about their shape as if they created themselves.

Is it a crime to be fat? If what is written in the Holy writ is anything to go by, we are all created in God’s image, therefore it is sinful to complain about the way God created us.

As a plus–sized lady, I know what it is to be subjected to ridicule. I have been taunted by friends and foes since I was a kid. I have learnt to be who I am and not what people want me to be. I don’t like it when you say “fat” It is too vulgar! So you’ll pardon me if I have to use the word plus–sized or don’t you think it is more like it.

As a plus–sized lady, inferiority complex is the monster you need to battle and win in order to see your good side. As for me, I’m okay now. I live my life to the fullest not comparing myself with someone else. I now see the better side of myself. I take the taunting as compliments.

I now see myself as the “TRIPPLE B”, Big, Bold and Beautiful. It is when you kill the monster in you that the angel will be let loose and you will feel beautiful from inside.

I therefore implore my plus–sized colleagues to desist from watching, listening or reading literature that would dampen their spirits. There are encouraging television programmes and video to boost your morale.

NOTE: READERS REACTIONS ARE WELCOME

A PAWN IN THEIR HAND

By Femi Abulude

I grew up knowing two women as my mothers. One was mama Tolu, while the other one was mama Akin. Was I not blessed with two women caring for me? This initial bliss was short lived.

Mama Tolu was my biological mother while mama Akin was my father’s legal wife. My father was a federal government employee transferred to Ilesha in the 70s. He met my mother who was just leaving the secondary school. He was much older than my mother but he told her that his wife has deserted him way back in Lagos.

The relationship blossomed and he got my mother impregnated in the process. Their parents were the first to notice her state of pregnancy. When he was called upon, my dad did not deny the paternity and her parents could not support abortion either, that was how I came into being

Before my birth, my dad had been transferred back to Lagos. That was when the truth came out. My dad’s wife, mama Akin was all the while waiting and looking forward to when her husband would be transfer back to Lagos. It seemed her prayers and that of her four children had been answered. Therefore, when he got back to Lagos, he was welcomed into the warm embraced of his family.

When my mum’s parents heard about the deceit of this Lagos man, they consoled each other and sent their daughter back to school after she gave birth to me. They took custody of me until I became eight years old.

After my eight years birthday, a strange man and some of his friends came visiting with a car. He was introduced to me as my father. I was confused; my grandpa said I would have to continue my education in Lagos. They packed my few belongings into a bag and I followed them. That was the beginning of my tears, sorrow and blood.

The whole household saw me as an intruder right from the onset. At every meal, I was always made to eat the leftovers of everybody no matter the size of the meal, I must finish it, thus I became a glutton without realizing It.

At that tender age, I became a sex object in the hands of my step sister who was about eighteen years old and my cousin, brother Abbey. It was this brother Abbey that deflowered me at age of nine and he continued doing it till I became twelve years old, when he travelled out of the country.

My stepsister, sister Vic would undress and ask me to be leaking her cunt. If I didn’t do it properly she would slap me. I get used to all these acts and started putting them into practice. I realized that boys saw me as a game and because I enjoyed it two, I became a ready made pun in their hands. News was going round on how good I was in bed. I had to change schools on two occasions because of my sexual escapades. I became pregnant at age 17 and my daddy sent me packing. By this time I had left secondary school with good grade. The baby came out to be a girl.

I took a job as a clerk. I had grown in stature because of my good looks and sexual prowess; I was able to change jobs at will. I eventually got a good one after my graduation in a computer college. With this, I was comfortable enough to take care of my self and my daughter.

All my siblings were doing fine. They were resident in America, but used to come home regular. Sister Vic would always spoil me and my daughter with money and gifts. Could these be her own way of restituting her past actions?

The boy that impregnated me and denied came with his parents. He wanted my hand in marriage. They now realized that my daughter was a replica of his mother.

Brother Abbey became a pastor but I still detested him like a plague. They sent invitation cards but, inviting us to the dedication of his church’s headquarters. After some persuasions by sister Vic. I decided to attend the ceremony in company of my fiancé.

On the D - day, the church was jammed packed. In attendance were my dad and step mother. The gathering was more or less a family re-union.

Brother Abbey climbed the pulpit and started preaching. He was in his elements. The whole congregation was listening with rapt attention. He got to a point where he said “Everything hidden was known to God…” or something like that and he continued.

“…there is a confession I want to make today, today is a special day in my life. There was this sin that I committed when I was a teenager. There was this helpless and hapless cousin of mine that I took advantage of. She was a helpless tool in my hands. I abused her at will… I want her to forgive me and I pray for forgiveness from the Lord…”

He continued like a possessed man. Several familiar faces turned towards my direction and I felt as if the ground could open and swallow me. I felt so ashamed.

ABOMINABLE!

By Femi Abulude

My parents were a perfect couple. True love radiated between them. There was hardly anything they did not know about each other. We learnt they grew up in the same neighbourhood and even attended the same primary and secondary schools. Funny enough, they looked alike and talked alike. Their friends used to taunt them that they were twins from different mothers.

        Our home was a happy one; my twin sister and I complemented this happy family. For reasons best known to them, they did not have additional child after our birth. I was named Joy, while my sister’s name was Joyce. Both of us were in our twenties and in the University. Our dad was in his early fifties, while mum was in her early forties when tragedy struck.

Mum was doing a post graduate course programme at O.A.U, Ife and she used to travel down to the ancient city for her lectures every weekend. She went one weekend and never came back. We made frantic search for her to no avail. The blow was devastating. We felt as if a part of us was dead.

      What could have gone wrong? Where could she have disappeared?

There was one plausible clue though, we did not have a strong prove to back it up, but it was the best and likely option at the time.

      On the day she left Lagos for Ife, there was this multiple fatal accident at the entry point of Ile-Ife where a fuel tanker somersaulted and emptied its liquid of destruction on the road. It caught fire and everything in sight, vehicles and their human passengers, vegetation herds of cattle, were burnt to ashes. Therefore after several months of futile search and publicity in the media we concluded that mum might be one of the victims of the ill-fated inferno.

Years after, our dad refused to re-marry. His family members and friends encouraged him and even made some spirited efforts at match making him with some willing ladies. He refused their offers.

     We became more united than ever, we stayed more indoors and jettisoned weekend outings, our dad got more intimated with us more than necessary; like kissing us passionately and embracing us intimately. One thing led to another and he started sleeping with us .Naturally, this act aroused petty jealousy between us. Both of us were struggling over dad’s affection and attention.

 Dad would pamper us with gifts. We were so involved with him that none of us had a thought of having a boy friend. We became averse to the opposite sex in school. Some were even accusing us of lesbianism. All that changed when I met Zack, he was a handsome and intelligent merchant naval trainee. When my dad met him, he did not hide his hatred and aversion for him. Zack noticed this and drew my attention to it. There was nothing I could do about it, because I knew why my dad felt that way. Zack was unperturbed, despite my dad’s open hatred, he kept on coming. He thought it was the usual parental protection, so he was doing his best to impress my dad. When he suddenly proposed marriage to me, I accepted joyfully.

By then, I had stopped my dad from sleeping with me. He was enraged and threatened to disown me. He said he would not have anything to do with the marriage. He even threatened to strike out my name from his inheritance. At this juncture, I sat him down. I explained to him the religious and cultural implications of his action.

       “Dad, devil has taken over this family since the demise of our mother. What we are doing is abominable.”

What are you talking about joy?”

“You know what I am talking about; we are doing the re-harsh of Lot and his two daughters here. I don’t want what happened to them to happen to us. For the sake of our late mother, let’s stop it. It’s evil and if you insist, I’ll call the family meeting and invite our pastor too. I’ll tell them the reason you are against me marrying Zack.”

“You can’t do that. Have you really weighed the full implications of what you have just said?” he fired back.

Dad it’s you that should weigh your actions. Come out of your shell and get a wife!”

I did not know where the spirit and the boldness came from.

He sat down, put his head between his palms and started crying like a baby.

It was at this juncture that Joyce came in; she glanced at both of us. As he was trying to say something, I waved her down and explained what happened to her.

Before I could finish I started crying, Joyce too joined me in crying.

Enough is enough! That was how the abominable act stopped. Good radiance to bad rubbish!

LEAN ON ME : Aunty Meg

Dear Aunty Meg,

I am thirty five years old. My late husband died suddenly in his sleep few months ago, leaving me with three children; two boys and a girl. (he also had two aged parents and six siblings)
Despite the fact that he had a building in the town of our abode, the family insisted that we should bring his corpse to their home town for burial.
My first shock was that a heavily pregnant woman also came and claimed she was carrying my husband’s pregnancy.
As we were arguing this out, the family requested both of us to shave our heads and our pubic hair.
I refused blatantly, but the other woman agreed. Thus they shaved her head and pubic hair.
Immediately after the burial, I followed my family member and friend back to Lagos.
That was the beginning of my ordeal. The family said because of my refusal to perform the traditional rites, I have no rights to stay in their house again. My husband’s family had given me three mouths to pack out of the house. What should I do?
Well dear readers, you have heard Edile’s story. I want you to send in you pieces of advice and let us see if we can be of any assistance to her.

Adventures of Mr Fari : FARI ON BOARD!

By Femi Abulude

My Name is Mr Fari l won’t let you know more than that about my identity. As you would soon realise as events unfold, I’m a fun seeker and I like to enjoy life to the fullest.

If you had been following the hard copy of AFFECTION magazine, Mr Fari would not be strange to you. No pretence about it. My own column is an espose on my escapades. Enjoy yourself, have fun. This life is too short for someone not to have the best of it. Sadness and I are two arch enemies. Read my story probably you may have one or two lessons to learn. Play save though, always have yourself protected.

Two weeks had passed and I am still smiting over the encounter I had with Queen. Imagine, my friend’s wife insulted me and I could not do anything about it. Let me quickly explain what transpired between us before you start insinuating what was not.

Bobby and his wife, Queen have just packed into our area. It was the wife Queen that I first met. The first time I sighted this ravishingly beautiful woman, she was walking in front of me and from that vantage position, she reminded me of Debola, my former campus girlfriend who eloped with a multi- millionaire (Debola story is for another day)

Queen was tall, light in complexion and she walked with a gait of a queen. Her name fitted her. I parked my car beside this African queen and offered to take her to the bus stop. She entered and expressed her appreciation.

I introduced myself and enquired where she was going under the scorching sun. One thing led to another and we started chatting. Before we knew it, we have already got to the bus stop, she had to dis-embark and I promised to see her some other time. Before she left we exchanged our telephone numbers.

I was the first to call her. She expressed her appreciation again for the assistance rendered, but warned me to desist from calling her at home. I understood what she meant, and I limited my call to official hours when she would be in the office.

All the while, I have never met the husband. As providence will have it, or should I call it ill luck. I met the husband in an un-usual manner we were in the middle of a drinking binge in our usual beer joint one evening, when this middle aged man sauntered in. he introduced himself to us as Bobby and started chatting with everybody as if we were old pals. The guy was full of life and his friendly mien was contagious. He stood up excused himself and went on to have a short discussion with mama Asuquo, the owner of the joint.

When he came back to his seat, a sales girl followed him with assorted bottles of beer, “Gentle men, this uncle …” pointing at Bobby “… said we should serve you these bottles of beer” The girl went ahead and served the said beer.

As we were thanking him one after the other for the gift, Bobby said, “Oh, girl, please serve us plates of pepper soup as well.”

From that moment onward, Bobby and I became friends we always met at the beer joint. One day after our usual drinking spree, he invited me to his house. There I met Queen! Both of us were surprised, but we quickly got over the initial shock. Bobby, introduced us and he told Queen to bring us food and both of us ate. Whenever my eyes met Queen’s she would raise her eye brow as if she was asking.”How come” or “what is happening?”

After that encounter, I deleted Queen’s number from my phone and refused to take her calls. Bobby and I continued with our friendship and I continued eating in his house. I have also invited him to my house too a couple of times.

As should be expected, Queen’s attitude changed and she started giving me cold shoulder treatment  whenever I went to their house.

 The issue got to a head one day. My car was faulty, and I had to take a cab home. Guess what? Sitting directly beside me was Queen. I greeted her, she I did not answer. When it was the time to pay for the fare, I paid for both of us. I was expecting her to thank me, but in stead, she burst out, her voice almost inaudible. “Keep your money… I hate you. Every part of my body hates you.”

“Why should you hate me Queen? What is my offence? Your husband is my friend...” Queen did not allow me to finish my sentence before she exploded!

“That is your headache. The information I heard about you was different.”

“Look, woman, you are a very beautiful woman, someday I could move with and I was thinking along that possibility before I met your husband who has turned out to be a likeable and intimate friend just of a sudden. As you were told, “awo is still de le”, but I don’t do it with my friend’s wife, no matter the provocation or beauty.”

“Fari you are a stupid man. I even hate you the more with that bus conductor’s language. Any day I see you in our house again on your eating and drinking spree with my husband I will lace your food with rat poison. I will even buy the rat poison today…. useless man.”

We were talking to each other at the back of the car as if we were having a casual discussion, therefore the driver and the other passenger sitting beside him could not hear us.

When we got to our bus stop. Queen stormed out of the cab. What type of crisis is this? What reason would I give Bobby for not coming to his house again? Should I dance to Queen’s tune and betray a friend’s? I asked store friends for advice. Some said I should play along with her while some said if the husband should know, he might kill me with magun.

What should I do now? Should I start dating Queen and dare magun or continue with my friendship with Bobby and eat rat poison? Please let me know your opinion fast.

WE THOUGHT IT WAS FUN: KATE DISAPPEARED AND I BECAME A LIVING DEAD.

I was my parent’s pet, being their first and only female child. They were always dotting over me. Dad claimed I resembled his late mother, therefore mum, who agreed with him was always treating me like her re-incarnated mother in-law. “Iya Oko mi” she called me.  What I got myself involved in on the campus was a great contrast from the pampering and affection I got from my dotting parents. When I now looked back, with hindsight, probably the kid gloves treatment I got at home was responsible for the deviant and adventurous girl I turned to in school.  The freedom I got was soothing and challenging. Therefore I went headlong in enjoying myself to the hilt.

I did not just graduate into a campus hippy, the first set of room mates I had were hyper social. the three of them; Shile, Edile and Kate (we were four in a room) were so exposed that the issue of virginity did not mean much to them within few months of our association, they encouraged me to discard the “archaic” idea of preserving my virginity till my wedding day. They were always taunting me with the  issue, therefore when the opportunity came, I got disvirgined by a guy who did not even show any sign of appreciation for getting the prize.

We were jumping from one gig to the other. There was even a particular time we had to travel out to Ghana as hostesses in one of the international conferences held in that country.

Through these numerous social outings, I had met many dignitaries and even state governors and federal ministers. I soon got to realize that the word hostess was another acronym for sleeping partner or harlot. Therefore when Kate invited me out on this fateful night, I knew quite alright what we were going for. This man’s friend, one Alhaji who had just come to town requested for a partner for his friend for the night. This was not the first time I had followed Kate to such impromptu outings. Despite the fact that I had a test the following day I decided to follow her.

This Alhaji was very rich quite alright by all standards but he was the ugliest man I ever met. His set of teeth was brown and stained.  He had a very big head, barrel chest and short limps. These eyes were big and blood shot.  The most detestable thing was his smoking habit. He was always puffing at this enormous cigarette as if his whole existence depended on it.

Well, we had already entered the room and I did not want to disappoint Kate, who had earlier on connected me with many handsome and profitable men. There and then, I decided that after that night, I would never have anything to do with this Dracula of a man. The beast sat on the bed, he had already removed his clothes with only boxer’s pants on. He beckoned on me to come and join him. I realized he had not talked much since we entered the room, apart from asking if I cared for a drink, which I rejected he did not say anything again. I obeyed his gesture, removed my dress, including my undies and joined him. He suddenly sprang up and went to where he kept his briefcase and removed a bale of one thousand naira notes and divided it into two and handed the other half to me. I did a mental calculation, what I was handling should be about fifty thousand naira or there about I went to where my bag was and kept the money.  I went back to him on the bed. When I realized that he was not bringing out condom I asked him why. He said there was no need for it.

He saw the confusion on my face. He explained that he was not going to have canal sex with me parse; he would be satisfied with just savouring my body.  Suddenly his countenance changed. He ordered me to lie down and open my legs wide. Fearfully, I obeyed him. To my chagrin, Alhaji attempted to dip his right big toe in my cunt! on a closer look I saw a blackish ring on this toe. I refused and jumped out of the bed and shouted at him. “What do you think you are doing Alhaji? What is the meaning of this? Nooo! I won’t agree, over my dead body. You better take your filthy money…”

“Don’t get yourself worked up over nothing young girl. That is what I want from you and if you refused, I will call the security men and report that you have stolen my money. The money I gave you and the other ones in my briefcase are numbered serially. It’s my words against yours, you know. Will you answer me now before I call them!” He bawled.

What have I led myself into now? I pinched myself to make sure I was not dreaming. I started begging him and tried to explain to him why I could not descend so low to such an act. He grabbed me in his bear like claw and dumped me forcefully on the bed. All my strength deserted me.  He hit me on the chest, it was then I realized that he had another ring on his left middle finger. I felt as if I was in a trance. I was transfixed on the bed as if some unforeseen forces were pressing me down.

I was conscious of what he was doing, but I could not move. He forced my legs apart and first dipped his ringed fingers into my vaginal before inserting his big toe into it.

As he did this, he started murmuring some inaudible incantations. After about ten minutes that seemed like an eternity he stopped and wiped my vaginal with a white handkerchief asked me to dress up. I obeyed him like a zombie, picked my bag and fearfully scampered out of the chalet.

 I was too afraid; I could not discuss my experience with anybody.  When I got back on the campus, I suddenly remembered Kate. It seemed she had not finished yet with her man. I opened my bag again to confirm if the money the Alhaji gave me was still there. It was there quite alright. I was furious with myself and I hated Kate for what happened. How did she come about these types of men? Did she go through the same ordeal I went  through?

When after two days and I did not see or hear from Kate, I became worried and alarmed. I decided to go back to the Hotel surreptitiously to enquire about her whereabouts.  The receptionist whom I met was the one on duty on the day of our first visit.  I could recognize her because she was starring inquisitively at us that night. She too recognized me immediately.

She informed me that immediately I entered the chalet with my man, Kate and her man changed their minds and decided to go elsewhere for the night promising to be back later, but they did not. We tried to check the records, the names, the address and telephone numbers were fictitious. I tried Kate’s number again, it was responding switched off.

There was massive search for Kate on radio, television and Newspapers to no avail. Her parents were distraught. Luckily for me, they could not trace her disappearance to me, because we did not discuss the outing with anybody. Kate’s disappearance remained a misery up till today. Her issue used to crop up during our discussions until we all passed out of the school.

Since that horrible encounter I had with the brute, I always got this sickening sensation all over my body, my womb was always hot.  After several operations, nothing has been found by the doctors but the sickness persisted. I have not been able to get any job either. Who will employ a sick person; a human effigy of packs of bones?

My parents did not give up on me; they were taking me from one hospital to the other. I have now become a burden on them. They kept on wondering what had become of their once boisterous and dashing daughter. Neighbours were peddling rumours about that I was suffering from AIDS, but several tests had proved negative. Deep inside me I knew I was a victim of money making ritual.                                                                                  

I KICKED UNCLE OKPE IN THE BALLS AND HE YELLED LIKE A BABY

My dad was a very handsome man, we were told how girls used to flock around him like bees to their hives when he was young. It was quite obvious that the beauty ran in the family because all his brothers were handsome while the females were beautiful. When his first wife left him after two children, dad realized that looks alone could not sustain relationship, especially among grown ups.

Dad was handsome quite alright. But he did not have corresponding financial clout to sustain his array of female admirers.  The moment he was laid off in the ministry of works where he was a senior supervisor, his fortune nose dived.                   All his efforts at getting another well paid job failed woefully.

When he was at the ministry, apart from his monthly salary, which was not enough to sustain him, his young family and his extra marital affairs, he had addition or extra income because he was in charge of procurement.  This gave him the privilege of cutting corners and short changing his employers.

He was eventually caught during one of the illegal dealings and he was sacked. The sudden termination of his appointment did not give him time to prepare for eventuality.  The little amount he had in the bank soon got exhausted. What quickly exposed him was that he refused to face the reality of his joblessness in good time. Months after he lost his job, he was still patronizing his regular drinking joints and his array of women. When the money got dried up eventually, the women refused to surface again. He became distraught and his wife was the butt of his frustration.  The wife soon left when she could no longer cope.

Despite this predicament, dad still remained attractive. His targets then were the married women and divorcees. My mum was one of his victims.

Mum had got three children for her first husband before he died of a protracted illness. She met my dad in a party.  One thing led to the other and before mum knew it, she was pregnant for this handsome man who swept her off her feet with his dashing looks.

The pregnancy was about six months old before mum knew whom dad really was. It was therefore too late for her to retract her steps mum was comfortable by all standards.  What she was looking for was companionship, therefore she seldom visited him at home. On this particular visit, what she met was shameful. Two women were fighting over my dad. The two warring women practically naked each other, and dad was in-between them trying helplessly to separate them. Mum had seen enough. She turned back and vowed never to have anything to do with him again.

Before you start blaming her for not looking properly before she leaped, consider this. The party where they met was a high society one. Dad was in his best clothes and in company of well fed people. Although dad was poor, his family belonged to a dynasty and the name opened doors of opportunities.  Probably, the name could have done some magic for him, but his act at the ministry has given him the tag of the black sheep of the family. Therefore everyone tried to ostracize him. In short, nobody wanted to identify with the black sheep.

I was born a girl after same eight years, my dad came for me. My mum refused initially but when the issue was getting into scandal, mum reneged in order to protect her other children.   She dumped me with his mother. Growing up was fun, so I thought.  I was shuttling between my granny’s place, my dad’s and mum’s during vacation.  This afforded me the opportunity of knowing three of them intimately.

There was this uncle of mine that worked with an oil company. She was very rich and always on foreign trips to France, Geneva and so on. She had even paid my school fees on several occasions uncle Okpe always sent credit on my mobile phone. His favourite song when he was tipsy with wine was.

            Ope o ku o

            E wo mariwo okpe o!

Meaning palm tree has not died o.

            As you can see the life

            Palm fronds!

           

This particular day, he called me on phone and requested that I should meet him at a hotel in Surulere area of the city to come and collect the project money I requested he said he was attending is a conference there and that if I got there before him, I should collect a note from the receptionist.

            

When I got to the hotel, uncle was already there. I saw his latest jeep packed in the car park. I approached the lady receptionist and was directed to room 137 on the first floor.  The receptionist must have informed him of my presence; because when I knocked on the door of the chalet, he answered immediately and told me to come in.

            

She seemed to have rehearsed the scenario very well. Immediately I entered, he set the ball rolling. Don’t let me deceive you, the moment I entered that chalet, I knew I was in for real trouble. He went straight to the point. He went about narrating how beautiful I was. He said I had combined the beauty of my mum with that of their family.  He assured me that I would never be in want again if I succumbed to his desire to sleep with me.

            

As he was saying this, he was all over me, hugging me and literally pulling of my dress. I tried to push him off. He dashed to where he kept his brief case. He opened it and I saw bales of thousand naira notes.  I swallowed hard at the sight. I told myself that I had to be very careful of this man.  I knew within me that part of those money belonged to me, but how I would earn it without losing my pride and committing an abomination remained a mirage.  I decided to play along with him by massaging his ego. I removed my blouse and spread it in one of the chairs. He rushed at me, grabbed my breasts and yanked one of them out of the bra! I told him to relax. I said he should allow me to remove the bra by myself. I was thinking fast I returned the breast back into the cup. I made to unbuckle the bra when a thought suddenly occurred to me.   Uncle Okpe was already poised for action. He had removed all his clothes, left for his boxer pant. His rampaging manhood was roaring to go into action. I moved close to him and held his manhood. I gave it a gentle stroke. He seemed to have been assured of my resolve to play along with him. I excused myself and strolled into the toilet taking my bag with me. I shut the door and sat on the toilet seat. I was crying and thinking I gazed at the wall and saw a list of telephone numbers pasted on the wall. I stood up and had a closer look at it. I saw police, Health services, Road safety, EFCC, Rapid response squad, NDLEA, Fire-service etc.

            

When I got to fire services, I paused and thought deeply. I could recollect that when I was coming into the hotel, few meters away was a fire station. I decided to call the station. I told the officer on the control board in a agitated voice, that there was a rampaging fire at the hotel. The man replied that they would be there right away. They did!

            

Uncle Okpe must have heard my voice because he asked what the matter was. I told him that I was answering a call and that I would soon join him. Siren had started blaring. My trick had worked!

            

Few minutes later, he banged on the door and asked me to come out.                         I opened the door for him. When he saw my nudity, he swallowed hard and murmured, “Tito, you have to dress up. There is a fire outbreak on one of the floors. In fact the fire service men are downstairs.  We have to get out of here fast. Everybody had been ordered out.”

            

He was visibly shaken. He gathered his clothes and dashed into the toilet to pee.  I ran out into the room. Before he could come out, I opened his briefcase and helped myself into some neat bales of the naira notes. I greedily loaded them into my poly bag and dropped it by the door. When uncle came out, he only gave me two thousand naira and promised to call me again.  I quickly dressed up, picked my poly bag and ran out of the hotel, thanking my star!.

            

Uncle Okpe called me on phone the following day but not to book another appointment.  He was raking about his money; yelling like a baby.