ALERO JUDAS!

As a young girl in the university I enjoyed life to the hilt. I was even a member of a five girl social club on our campus aptly named “The Glamour Five.” The memberships of this club were not more than five at any given time. If a member or more passed out of the institution, we replaced such members with new applicants.

Apart from organizing social events like beauty pageants, fashion shows, film exhibition and musical concerts, we also served as consultants to those men who were in need of female partners during conferences, political meetings and dinner parties.

As a matter of policy, no member was allowed to have a lover within the precinct of the university. We always kept recalcitrant lecturers at bay with or powerful men outside the campus. Any randy lecture who dared to push things too far did it at his own peril. Our school was a state owned University, so it’s just a matter of pulling the right strings from the ministry and the lecturer would meet his water loo! They knew better and we were always left alone. We even assisted some friendly ones among them to pull strings and enhance their promotions and political appointments. That was how powerful we were.

Despite my various amorous escapades, I still maintained a regular lover outside the campus. Dewale fondly called “Adewalag” (because he schooled in Lagos) was a son of a popular female hotelier in town; he was married to a beautiful daughter of one of the high chiefs in town. This handsome and rich guy was the only man I always had unprotected sex with. I could not just resist him.

Dewale would not hear of condom and I needed his regular supply of money to maintain my status on the campus.

This my indiscretion is the cause of my present predicament. At the last count, I had about six abortions without much ado. When I missed my monthly period again after spending a weekend with Dewale in Abuja, I did not see it as a serious issue. Even after receiving the money for the abortion, I still waited another month before I decided to terminate it.

On the appointed date, the doctor examined me and instructed that I should go for a scan. This was strange, but I obliged. I brought the result back to him. After the initial Pleasantries, he went through it and shook his head. His mien changed and he said in a mellowed tone:

“Nkoyo, I’m afraid you have to go for an operation. This pregnancy is a breach. What it means in a layman’s language is that instead of the fertilization to take place in the uterus, it took place in one of the fallopian tubes..,” what he was saying was too technical for me to comprehend as at then. My major concern was to get rid of the foetus and get going with my Life. I went back to Dewale and he gave me the required funds for the operation. This was performed promptly and it was successful. After few weeks of recuperation, I started my normal way of life again __ “G5 no day carry last!”

After graduation, I entered the world with full throttle. I rocked life is the fullest, but my parents would not allow me to rest. They wanted me to get married at all cost. When my elder brother, Richard, joined in the pressure group, I knew I could not hold on for too long. The recurring topic was marriage, I had to succumb eventually.

There was this handsome guy I met during my first visit to Sweden. I had gone there at Richard’s invitation. One thing led to another, and Soni proposed marriage. I later on realized that it was Richard and his wife that did the match making.

We had to come back home to arrange the wedding ceremony. Unknown to me, Richard had informed our parents about the guy. In a short time, we became man and wife. He turned out to be loving and caring.

 After about three years of marriage and pregnancy did not come, I became jittery. Understandably, pressure had started coming from his family at home.                   

Though, he tried to conceal it, he too had started fidgeting.

I could read it on him. He always had this forlorn look. This was not there at the earlier period of our marriage.

I decided to go for medical checkup. The result? The medical doctor confirmed what I had known; that one of my fallopian tubes was ruptured. The one that pulled the carpet off my feet was that the second tube had been blocked!

I had to rush back to Nigeria to intimate my bosom friend, Alero. She was one of the Glamour five way back in our university days.

She reeled our names of marabouts, priests, Alfas, etc who could be of help. We quickly got the ball rolling; going from one place to another. Spending fortune as we kept on consulting them.

By then, I had got a thriving business in Sweden; therefore, I could afford shuttling between Nigeria and Sweden. At a point, I became ill and Alero had to come to Sweden to take care of me. She had lost her husband in a plane crash some years earlier and her two children were in boarding school. She couldn’t wait for too long though. She had to go back when the holiday time was approaching.

Not long after Alero’s departure, Soni said he had to visit his parents in Nigeria. This trip took his entire annual leave. I became suspicious of this impromptu journey. Was Soni going to bow to the pressure of his parents? Had they got another woman for him in Nigeria? I decided to hope for the best; My Soni would not do such a thing.

We kept on communicating on daily basis. I tried to detect through the tone of his responses if there could be any tell – tale signal of infidelity. Nothing gave him away. Even when he returned, I did not notice any sign.

Not for too long though. One chilling evening, I received an anonymous call from Nigeria if I knew that a lady was carrying my husband’s baby. After dropping the bomb shell, the caller switched off her phone and I couldn’t link up with her again. I allowed the information to sink. I did not confront him immediately. When I eventually plucked up – courage to ask him, he denied it vehemently.

“My Angel, I’m not entirely surprised at such rumour. Many guys and ladies over there were envious when I arrived in Nigeria. This could be their machination. Forget it Nkoyo”.

That was how he dismissed the issue. When I told Richard, he advised me to be calm. My next life of action was to call Alero in Nigeria to help me do espionage on the pregnant lady. Her phone was ringing but she did not pick it. What could have gone wrong? Has she lost her phone? After several days of trying her number, I gave up.

I became confused and restless. I decided to visit Nigeria myself. On such trips, Alero was always handy to welcome me at the airport, but on this fateful trip, Alero was not available and I felt it. When we alighted from the aircraft and concluded the necessary protocols and formalities, I picked a taxi and decided to go straight to Alero’s house at Ogba. At least if she had left the town, there would still be some neighbours who would know her whereabouts.

Alas! Alero was at home. Alero! I screamed. She did not sound too enthusiastic to see me. I tried to hug her but I realized she was spotting a protruding belly. Alero was pregnant! “Wonders shall never end” I thought.

“Alero, how are you? What happened to your phone? I made several attempts at getting in touch with you on phone without luck. You don’t look happy… Why?”

She tried to mumble some words and stopped. Could it be the pregnancy that was taking its toll on my friend? She tried to put up some false pleasantries, but I was not fooled. Something was wrong somewhere, but I could not put my hands on it. I did a fast thinking and told her that I had to rush to Abuja that day that I would see her in three days time. I picked my load again and dragged them out of her house on the street. I flagged down the next available taxi and drove straight to Airport hotel in the neighbourhood.

After settling down in my room, I decided to call some of my other friends in town. The first one I called, Kike, gave me the clue to my worries. In fact, she was the one behind the anonymous call I received in Sweden. She dropped the bomb shell. She revealed that it was guilty conscience that was troubling Alero. She disclosed that the pregnancy Alero was carrying belonged to my husband. She made several frantic efforts to terminate it, but Doctors advised her that it was too risky to attempt. That was why she left the pregnancy. I thanked Kike and hung the phone.

“Alero, pregnant for Soni! My mind flashed back to her last visit to us in Sweden. I recollected my suspicion on Soni is sudden vacation trip to Nigeria. So this was what it was all about? The battle line is drawn. I can never allow Alero to spoil my joy.

BENEFACTOR INDEED! BENEFACTOR INDEED!

I had a flourishing wholesales textile business in Balogun market. I was very popular in the market and one of the privileged few who pioneered traveling to Dubai, Hong-Kong, and Bangkok to order for textile materials.

My ordeal started when a friend introduced me to a quick business. I had just recovered from illness and needed some money to cover the lost ground. It was smuggling. I new it was illegal before I dabbled into it, so when our trucks loaded with contraband materials were intercepted by the men of customs and excise and arrested, I knew what I was into. From fry pan I landed myself in fire. Therefore instead of struggling out of my financial mess, I was wallowing in it.

We thought of bribing the sector commander of customs in charge of the operation. Those who were close to him warned us against it. They said the man was incorruptible. They advised us to forget the idea if we did not want to end up in jail.

“What can I do now?” I wondered aloud. I needed an urgent solution to my problems. When my husband who had just retired saw what I was going through, he promised to bail me out of my financial mess. This he did. He assisted me in securing a loan we used two of our buildings as collateral. My business started booming again.

There was this driver of mine named Rasaq. His peers called him Rosco. He was loyal and hardworking. He was a guy I could confide in, in fact I related to him as Aunt to a Nephew because we came from the same area. Therefore when he called me one day and advised that I should fortify myself with juju, so that my fortune will no longer nose dive, I started thinking.

“Alhaja, I was just watching you all the while. But I can no longer hold it again. You are like a sister to me even when things were bad, you did not send me away. My observation is that you are too exposed. You go about unprotected. That’s why you are an easy target.”

“What you have just gone through recently should serve as a lesson. Most of your mates in this market have juju men as their backbones. They work for them and wave evil and bad luck away.”

“If you don’t mind, I know of a man who stays in a village not far from here. Alhaja, this man is hot!”

I thanked him and told him to allow me to thing about it. About a month later, he raised the issue again; I decided to give his suggestion a trial. We fixed a date and Rasaq said he had to go and arranged with the man ahead, so he could prepare for us. I allowed him to go.

On the appointed day, we met the juju man, I was expecting an old man, but our host was a man in his forties. He prepared some concoctions and said I should bath with it in the midnight. After this, he said I should not talk to anybody until the day break. He also gave me a substance and a bottle of honey. He said I needed to make some incisions on my head in his presence. He said as a rule, he could not make it. It was either my husband or somebody I see on regular basis.

How could I ask my husband to do such a thing? One, he did not believe in fetish things, two, I did not inform him about the trip. The lot fell on Rasaq. I was the one that made the suggestion, and both of them agreed. He assisted me in making the incisions, seven in all and rubbed the blackish powder on the lacerations.

There was this lazy sister of mine, Tawa was her name. Her husband was a rich man but any time she visited me, her topic of discussion was Rasaq.

“Alhaja, we are ashamed of what people are saying about you and your driver. They alleged that you have abandoned your matrimony and settled for a common driver; your own driver for that matter. Sister, I’m sure this boy had charmed you …”

“Tawa, stop there! It is you they will charm, not me. Busy body, I will tell your husband to find you a time consuming job. You are lazy, that’s why you have time to be listening to hear say. What is my concern with what anybody says? What value will that one add to my trade? Didn’t they talk when the custom seized my goods? Did their talk and fake sympathy bring back my goods?

“Tawakalitu, Elejo! Alaroye, Akede-agbaye!!! Carry your bag and go! Oya take your bag and go!”

I shouted on her and warned her never to come to either my shop or home again. She carried her bag and went out.

There was this all ladies social club that made me their matron. They invited me to their new member initiation ceremony. In the middle of the ceremony, they gave me a glass cup. Every one of them held a glass like the one I was holding. The president went round filling the cups. This seemed strange to me, but when. She started a toast, I relaxed my suspicion. (They later on confirmed this and confessed that they did not drink theirs).

Few minutes later, they invited a middle aged man into the gathering. It seemed as if I had seen him before, but I couldn’t place the face. The president of the club rose up to speak.

“Alhaja, we members of this noble club respect you a lot. We know you are morally upright and have an enviable record as a family woman. Your business accruement came as an appendage. Your name topped the list of the twelve short listed highly place women in town.

We were therefore surprised with what had been going on in your life in recent time. We sensed that a toad was not running in the daylight for nothing. How could this enviable model change overnight? We wondered. This issue saddened us a lot.”

“We embarked on our investigation and found out that Rasaq, your driver was not your benefactor as you believed.”

At this juncture, Tawa, my sister entered the hall and took a seat.

“The man you are seeing here was the man Rasaq took you to in the village.” The president continued, “We would not have known, but Rasaq was a “kiss and tell” person. He used to boast of his sexual escapades with you.

“It’s quite unfortunate that your activities with him had become the talk of the town. We realized that you had been be-witched. Our determination to bail out our matron out of this public disgrace led us to this man. After listening to us, he apologized and promised to right the wrong. The wine you have drunk was the antidote to the charm. For your information Alhaja, we are not initiating any new member. Look around you, can you see any new face? The two non-members here are this man and your sister aunty Tawa, who is also part of this arrangement. She concluded.

I broke down and wept like a baby.

EBUBE NASTY!

 My mum, Ebube did not know her parents. The duo died in an auto crash on their way from Benin to the village in the eastern part of the country. She leant that she was also in the ill – fated car, but was rescued unscathed from the wreck. The onus of raising her then rested on her maternal grandmother, mama Uju. Mum never lacked good things of life. She grow to be a spoilt child and a tomboy. Mama Uju was dotting over her like a hen to her chick. Because of this over protection and indulgence, she was able to commit some grievous offences and went scot-free un like her peers.

I was told that she once slapped a male student-teacher who pinched her buttocks, when she was in the secondary school. When the issue was investigated, the horny teacher was sent off from the school and Ebube became a folk heroine among her mates. She even had a nickname; everybody was calling her Ebube Nasty!

As she was known for her notoriety in the village, Ebube was said to be very brilliant in her educational pursuits. When she sat for her secondary school final papers, she came out in flying colours. Mama Uju was very proud of her granddaughter and she grew wings and became uncontrollable. She was a regular figure at night parties and always on nocturnal trips, even outside the village, this weird development sent some jilters into Mama Uju. All her treats and entreaties to stem this behavior failed.

Respite eventually came. Whether it was the best option was controvertible. A young guy had just come back home from Dublin on vacation. Kalu’s (that was his name) Parents did not want him to go back to Dublin without a wife. He agreed to their request but with a proviso; the bride to be must be educated or possess a good result that would put her on a good stead to continue her education in Dublin. Ebube readily fitted in. The mariage rites were hurriedly arranged and performed. Her travelling documents were expressive processed and perfected and the new couple left the shores of Nigeria for their base in Dublin. Mum got pregnant in her first month in Dublin. Because of this development, she had to suspend her educational pursuit.

When I was born, I was taken to a foster home in order for my mum to prepare for her matriculation examinations. She was successful and offered admission to study nursing.

There was a snag though, the couple did not have enough financial clout to foot the educational bills and still cater for my up-keep. Contrary to the impression my dad gave when he came home on vacation, though he was well educated, he had not secured a permanent job. It was then resolved that I should be taken to Nigeria, this was hurriedly done and my paternal grandparents became my foster parents. My mum passed out from her school and was employed in the same teaching hospital. She gave birth to three other children, three boys in a tow and were all raised in Dublin.

I grew up in Nigeria and qualified as an English language teacher with combined honours in English language and education. My siblings were calling me Nigerian made. When they say Niger made I would answer them Proudly Nigerian!

I met this charming young man at a wedding ceremony. It was on that same day that the propose marriage to me. Though I liked him I found his request ridiculous and unbelievable. I was the chief bride made at the wedding ceremony, while Dan was the best man. After some months of playing hard to get, I gave in to his request and we started courtship. He was handsome, intelligent and comfortable.

After meeting into his parents, I traveled to Dublin to intimate my parents about the wedding arrangement. As promised during my visit, they came for the ceremony my mum brought the wedding gown, rings and other accessories. And even Dan’s wedding suits and pair of shoes were provided by her.

She had got our measurements during my last visit to Dublin.

My parents liked Dan. He two liked them. He even remarked enthusiastically once-“What a happy family you have Ini, I’m very proud of you all”.

An unbelievable thing happened in the week preceding my wedding day. Precisely three days to the D-day, we were putting finishing touches to the wedding arrangement, going through all what we had done and the one yet to be accomplished  when mum quietly called on Dad and said, “Honey, you won’t lead Ini to the alter on her wedding day. It will be morally wrong of you to do so” I thought my ears were playing some tricks on me. I pinched myself to make sure make that I was not dreaming.

“Dear, what are you talking about? Are you out of your senses? Is the tension of this marriage taking its toll on you?” It was my Dad that was talking. I decided to chip in something to douse the tension.

“Mum you…” She did not allow me to finish my sentence before she continued her verbal diarrhea.”Ini my daughter, you can’t understand. The truth must be told. I have wronged Oritse a lot. I must return what is his to him. Kalu, the truth is that barely a month before you came home on your vacation to pick me for marriage. A burial ceremony took place in the village. One of the daughters of the deceased, Aunty Vero, who was my cousin, came with her fiancé, whom she later got married to. A friend accompanied this man and I got intimated with him. I was his partner and lover throughout his stay in the village. It was after he left that I realized I had missed my monthly period. I was at the verge of sending messages to Aunty Vero to intimate her on my predicament when you came on the scene. Before I could put my acts together, you were talking about marriage and both families were all over me. I could not think straight before we travelled out.”

The issue had been pricking my conscience all these years. Respite came when we had to send Ini back to Nigeria for upbringing. Why I have decided to return Ini to her real Dad is that I met Aunty Vero some years ago during one of my trips to Nigeria. She told me that Oritse’s wife died during child birth. Since then, he had not got another child. Two other women, whom he settled down with on separate occasions, each left him without producing any child.”   “These women are now proud mothers in their respective homes, while Oritse remained childless. A meeting was arranged and I told him about his daughter. We have been on constant communication since and he is equally preparing for this wedding ceremony in his own way. He has met you Ini on two occasions but you did not know him. I would arrange for a meeting between him and us tomorrow so that we could sort things out.” I was too engrossed in what mum was saying to notice that Dad was just sitting down there, his breathing was no longer regular. While mum was giving her epistle, she was pacing up and down like a pastor delivering a powerful sermon from a pulpit. She too did not know that Dad was no longer listening to her. I drew her attention to his state of health and we rushed at him. He could not raise his limbs again and his mouth had bent at an unpleasant angle. We rushed him to the hospital where we were told that be had suffered a severe stroke! He died few hours later.