OBLIVIOUS TARGET



By Femi Abulude

Anytime I think about this story I am about to recount, I always shudder, at the same time I give thanks to God. My escape from an imminent agonizing death was not by my power or might, it was by divine intervention.

When I was a struggling bachelor and a cub reporter in a pioneer soft sell magazine in Lagos. I rented a two room apartment at Ketu. Our landlord who had three wives was staying in the same house with us then.

One queer thing I noticed about this man was that he did not have a separate room of his own. If he came back from work, he would retire to his sitting room. He slept in any of the rooms of his three wives. My own apartment was sandwiched between the sitting room and three of his own rooms.

Out of these three wives, the last one, who obviously was older than the one in the middle, was the trouble causer of the house. This childless woman was always quarrelling. Her bone of contention with the one in the middle was that the husband did not tell her that he had two wives during their courtship. It had then become a morning ritual to witness the thorough bashing of this errant woman by the husband.

Due to the unpredictable nature of my job, I always left home late in the morning and returned very late in the evening. Because of this, I always witnessed this early morning show of shame. While the man was slapping, kicking and whipping this lady, other wives and neighbours would be making half – hearted attempt at separating the warring duo. I would make sure I separated them and piloted the man to his sitting room. Funny enough, he had never refused this gesture, though grudgingly, he would follow me.

One thing led to another, and this troublesome wife packed out of the house. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

There was this elderly man called Mr. Aderoju in the house. He was a respectable gentleman, married and had two of his younger brothers staying with him. One evening, the younger of these boys was arrested for wandering by the police. It was an eye witness who knew him that came to report to his brother.

When I got back home that night, Mr. Aderoju knocked on my door and said he had been waiting for me. He narrated the arrest of his brother to me. I calmed him down and promised to follow him to the station the following day as it was late.

We got to the station; I requested to see the Divisional Police Officer in charge of the station. I introduced myself to him and explained our mission. He asked if we were sure that the boy was in his station. Mr. Aderoju answered in affirmative. He gave his name and description. Few minutes later, the young boy was brought to us. He narrated how he was abducted along with others despite the fact that he produced his identity card of the plastic company he was working for. The DPO apologized on behalf of his overzealous boys and released the boy to us.

Mr. Aderoju was full of appreciation. He said “Brother Journalist”, (That was what they called me in that house) “I don’t know how I could express my appreciation. I know you are a very nice person, but what you have done this morning beat my imagination. Just keep on with your good behavior. God will always be your guide”.

I thanked him and told him that it was my pleasure. When we got home, he invited me to his room and closed the door. “What does this man want again?” I thought. He started explaining in whisper how the landlord had put me on surveillance. He said, the man had been suspecting me of having illicit love affairs with his last wife. I did not know how I screamed out. “The troublesome woman?” He answered in affirmative.

He said the man held his suspicion on the boasting of his wife that she was the one that assisted me to purchase my newly bought video set at a cheaper rate from her sister in Idumota market. (This my video set was the first in the whole neighbourhood then). Mr. Aderoju said it was because of this that the landlord sent the woman away. His advice was that I should go and meet the landlord and explain my own side of the story, I should say he was the one who told me.

I could not go to work again on that day. I was waiting for the landlord to come back from work. When he eventually came, I told him that I wanted to have a discussion with him. He said I should wait till the following morning.

When I got to his sitting room the following morning, I met him and his elder brother who used to collect the house rent. He must have sent for him because he was not staying in our house. I greeted them and he motioned me to a seat. At this juncture, Mr. Aderoju too entered the room. I told him what I heard, leaving out the source of the information. I bought out the receipt of the video set, video cassette rewinder and the chromed – iron stand I bought on the same day from a departmental store in Oyingbo market.

He collected the receipts from me perused them and handed them over to his brother, his brother glanced through and handed them to Mr. Aderoju. He read through them too and returned them to me.

It was the elder brother that first spoke. He said they were already preparing my eviction papers as my rent would due in few months time. He said with the receipts and my rebuttal, they would give me benefit of doubt, but still keep me on surveillance.

The landlord said he liked me a lot. He confessed that many at times when I separated him and his wife, he would feel like pouncing on me too, but he would not have the courage to do so. He also confessed his love for this woman. He said he did not send her away as some people believed. He said he only relocated her. He warned me that if there was anything between us, I should put a stop to it otherwise I would regret it. He also threatened that he had instructed some boys in the area where the woman was relocated to deal with me if they sighted me with her.

The elder brother concluded that probably the lady was just boasting in order to make her husband jealous and danced to her tunes.

I thanked all of them and prayed for their children. I later on went to Mr. Aderoju and expressed my appreciation and thanked his wife most especially for advising him to inform me. There and then, I made up my mind to vacate the house, therefore when my rent expired. I packed out willingly.

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.

FEMININE FLAIRS: MOTHERHOOD

By: Bukky Idowu

It was the famous American family therapist, Heather Mc-cue who said “The whole point of woman – centered birth is the knowledge that a woman is the birth power source. She may need and deserve help, but in essence, she always had, currently has, and will have the power.”

Some young mothers I spoke with recently explained joyfully that their first birth experience had been that of inexplicable happiness. One of them even put it this way “The joy of having my flesh and blood through child birth had been overwhelming… that first cry was the beginning of reality.”

Motherhood is one of the major duties of every woman. It involves more that just caring and feeding the baby. The mother needs to be patient, cautious, alert and be healthy enough to take proper care of her baby.

She should look forward to motherhood with a positive mindset. It is not a bed of roses though stress and sleepless nights will rear their heads. She should be unperturbed and remain resolute. The joy of motherhood will cushion all these pains.

The husband should not be an onlooker. He too has vital roles to play in this. As an accomplice, he should not shirk his responsibilities. He sow the seed, he should be ready to nurture it to fruition! His words of encouragement and assistance in various forms will go a long way in ameliorating the stress and fatigue that go along with motherhood.

Happy motherhood to all our nursing mothers. Ciao!

ADVENTURES OF MR FAARI: ADIEU “BOLA FOR SURE”

I am in a mourning mood. I got the sad news of untimely demise of one of my long time ladies few weeks ago. It was Rashidat that first called me. I did not believe her because both of them were arch rivals. It was not Rashidat Deen o! It was Rashidat Owoh.

Bola was introduced to me some years ago by one of our social aunties fondly called “City Mama”. Bola was a popular hairdresser in one of the state capitals around us. She and the two Rashidats always kept my company whenever I visited that state; it depended on whom I saw first.

Our first outing left a sour taste in the mouth, though she eventually made up the disappointment. It was at one of City Mama’s friend’s birthday party. The ceremony was in the top gear when this motor-cade blearing siren disrupted the gathering. The vehicles grounded to an abrupt halt and a young man jumped out of the SUV vehicle and ran to the celebrant where she seated. She stood up and embraced him. He gave her a peck and handed her a bulky envelope. I later on learnt that he was the cousin of the celebrant.

“Sister, I won’t stay long o! We have to go back to Lagos tonight.” He shouted. He looked around and saw Bola. He beckoned at her. She ran to him. He whispered something to her and both of them rose. To my chagrin, Bola followed him and the convoy left noisily the way they came. I felt empty. I was boiling all over. The wine I was sipping became tasteless in my mouth.

About two hours later, Bola emerged from nowhere and sat quietly beside me. Her defence was

“Faari, don’t be annoyed, Omo-Oye was my boyfriend right from our secondary school days. You see refusing to answer him in public like that would be an insult. The guy has just come back from the United States and he is seeking an elective post. I’m even one of his campaign agents here” she kept on defending herself.

Another disappointing scene was when I went to that city on an important appointment with a top state functionary. After arranging for the next day, I called at Bola’s Salon. She was happy to see me. She arranged for my feeding and booked hotel accommodation for me. She went back to her shop and promised to call again in the evening. That was the last I saw of Bola o.

It was like “waiting for Godot!” If you have not read that book go and read it. When it was about 11pm and I did not see Bola, I started calling her number. She had switched off her phone. I slept alone that night. I woke up early, needless telling you that I did not enjoy my sleep. I was afraid what could have happened to Bola? Did armed robbers attack her on her way? Various thoughts kept coming to my mind.

I decided to check on her on my way to the state’s secretariat. There I learnt she did not sleep at home. My appointment with the commissioner was for 8.00 0’clock and I was to travel with him to Abuja that morning. It was from Abuja that I went back to Lagos. Bola called me later in the week and started apologizing and giving excuses. I was not fooled. She was otherwise engaged and did not want me to see other alternatives.

You can now understand my feelings when I heard that she died in a ghastly auto crash. I was curious, therefore I instructed our Bureau Chief in that State to investigate the circumstances that led to her death.

According to his reports, Bola in her characteristic manner followed one of her men to a drinking joint in the outskirts of the town. They were in the middle of enjoyment when this pretty young girl entered the hall. She was this man’s girlfriend. The girl was hesitant at first, but the man beckoned at her and asked her to sit on his laps. Bola was furious. I knew her to be of terrible temper. Bola was a stammerer! She picked her cup and that of the man with both hands and poured the contents on the duo.

She picked the man’s bunch of keys on the table and stormed out. She ran to the car park, entered the man’s car and sped off. Few minutes later, she ran the car into a stationary truck in the road with full speed. Bola died instantly!

BEHAVE RESPONSIBLY; LIFE IS SHORT!

TEJUMOLA OJODABARU; WHAT A NAME!

I was the last child of my aged parents. My dad was in his 70s, while mum was engaged in petty trading. The onus of my training therefore rested on the first born of my parents; Brother Isaac, whose wife had born him three children.

Despite his commitments to his nuclear family, Brother Isaac made sure I never lacked as far as my upkeeps and education were concerned. This abruptly came to an end. When I was in the third year in the University, Brother Isaac lost his job.

I left the campus, this fateful day, full of hope and expectation I had borrowed some amount of money that I needed to pay back. My mission was to go and collect my monthly allowance. The mood I met at home made my heart skipped a beat. Brother Isaac, his wife and the children were all at home. This was strange, at least the two elderly ones were supposed to be in the boarding house. They seemed to be in the mourning mood. Who died? What could have happened? Why this somber mood?

I did not have to wonder for too long. Brother Isaac had lost his job few weeks earlier. The children had been sent away from school when he could not pay their fees. Without been told, I knew there was no way I could squeeze a dime out of this couple in this their present state. I expressed my sympathy, prayed for them and left.

Where should I go now? I thought aloud. I struggled to get to the bus stop. I just stood wondering. How would I pay my debt in the campus? The money I had in my purse could not even take me back to school. “I have to start begging people for money if I don’t want to get stranded”. I was thinking how I would go about this when suddenly; I felt that my dress was drenched with storm water gathered in a pot hole beside where I stood. This sudden wetness brought me back to my senses. I started crying.

The SUV vehicle that splashed the dirty water from the stagnant pool parked few meters away. The driver alighted. He came over to me and apologized “Sorry young lady, Chief said you should come”. He pointed at the direction of the big vehicle.

I followed him sheepishly. The man at the back of the vehicle lowered the side glass and said “Young lady, accept my apology. I’m sorry to have soiled your beautiful dress. Could you come in so that we could do something about it?” Before I could say anything, he opened the other door. I entered and the vehicle sped off.

He introduced himself and gave me his complimentary card. He was a contractor of some sort. He requested for my school address, course of study and home town. He was quite inquisitive. Through is persistent questioning, he knew about my predicament. He consoled me and opened his briefcase. I took time to look at him very well. He looked handsome to me. He was not even as old as I thought. He brought his cheque book out and scribbled something on it.

He asked for my full name and wrote it on the cheque leaf. He handed it over to me. I thanked him. I looked at the cheque. I was to cash a sum of twenty thousand naira only. I looked at him and thanked him again. He also requested for my brother’s field of specialization and I told him it was geology. He brought out another complimentary card and asked for his full name as well. He wrote some things on it, brought out an envelope and addressed it to the managing director Great soil solid minerals incorporated.

“Jane, give this to your brother Alhaji Dan Sakwa will surely get him a job in due course, just promise me you’ll be a good girl. I’m on my way to Abuja right now for an important presentation. I hope this our meeting will bring me good luck.” I started praying for him. “That is my girl. You can give me a call next week.” He gave me a cash of two thousand naira and asked the driver to park the vehicle when we got to Ojota bus stop. He bade me farewell. I alighted into the scorching sun and the vehicle sped off towards the old toll gate.

Was this strange man an Angel or Aristo out to lure me into fornication? Chief came out to be both. I said so because if I had not met him on that day, I didn’t know how I would have survived. Brother Isaac went to meet Alhaji Dan Sakwa of the solid minerals as chief directed. He got the job in the managerial level, his fortune changed immediately and the couple remained eternally grateful to me.

When chief came back from Abuja, he gave me a call. I thanked him for all he had done. I also informed him that Brother Isaac had secured the job. I asked him how his Abuja interview went. He said it was positive. According to him, that was his third attempt at getting the job. He said I was the one that brought him luck. He invited me to his office for celebration the following day.

When I got to his office, he was in a meeting. After waiting for about an hour, the secretary ushered me into his office.

“Janet Abomide!” I was confused at this statement. My name is Janet quite alright, this “ABOMIDE” was not clear to me

“You are Abomide now. If not because of that water that splashed on you, we wouldn’t have met”. He stood up, walked to where I sat, bent down to my level and looked me straight in the face. He said, “Jane, I don’t want to beat about the bush. I want us to start an affair”.

I was dumb founded. “What do I say to this now?” I thought. One thought said I should reject him and beat it, the other side, I should grab this opportunity. I listened to the latter. I lowered my gaze. He was not bad to look at. He was handsome. Deep inside me, I’m beginning to like him.

That was how I became the mistress of Chief Rodeke. He was my first man. When he realized I was a virgin, he started worshipping me. The affairs could no longer be hidden among my folks, but my parents expressed their resentment over the relationship. Understandably, I had succor in my brother and his wife.

Before I left school, Chief opened a boutique for me and employed qualified staff to run it. When I celebrated my twenty second birthday, he bought an SUV vehicle for me as my present. Me that my friends knew as a borrower and user of second hand clothes suddenly became a celebrity on the campus, one of the respected big girls. Because of my generosity, my peers were calling me Angel Janet! Twice I became pregnant; twice I lost my pregnancy mysteriously. Don’t miss understand me. I did not terminate the pregnancies, far from it. I had given my whole life to this man. I wanted to carry his baby. I wanted to be his wife.

When I passed out from the university, Chief influenced my posting and I remained in Lagos. I practically did the service in my shop. He rented a duplex for me. By this time, I had gone far with him. Some of his friends and siblings had known me.

I became his official consort. But whenever I asked about his wife, he always brushed the issue aside. He warned me that it was a no go area.

This was not for long though. Bubble burst one evening when chief decided to spend the weekend with me. We were just driving in from a night out, when this elderly woman came out of a big car parked beside my gate. She must have been waiting in the dark for some time.

She charged at the Chief. “Ramani Akanni Rodeke! I have respected you enough, but you failed to reciprocate this. Why you allowed yourself to be carried away by this useless harlot beat my imagination. A homeless gold digger of a girl made you loose all your senses of dignity. Have you forgotten our covenant at the shrine? You forget the source of all these wealth and affluence so soon?”

She turned to me. “Look Tejumola Ojodabaru, Ramani cannot take another wife or else heads will roll, that’s if they have not been rolling already! He is mine and mine alone. Take a final look at him.”

She dragged him out of the car and the man followed her without any resistance. They entered the waiting car and sped off.

I phoned the chief the following morning and he confirmed what his wife said. He said I should take care of myself. He assured me that all the properties in my possession were bought in my name. He advised me to make good use of them. My mind kept going to the statement of the woman about “heads rolling”. Could my still births be the heads that had started rolling? Will this not affect my future? Oh my God! This woman is a spoiler! Can you imagine, she even gave me a name, Tejumola Ojodabaru!

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.

ADVENTURES OF MR. FAARI: TONIA HAS COME FOR RETURN LEG

Guess who came calling last weekend? It was Tonia. You don’t know Tonia? Are you that forgetful? She was the girl we picked at Ekpoma on our way to Agbor! Tonia came to Lagos live and direct and as usual I did not disappoint her.

When the receptionist buzzed me that I had a visitor in her Office and that her name was Tonia. I knew I had to cancel all other engagements I had for that weekend. I instructed her to send her in.

She burst in like a rocket and started accusing me of not phoning her or picking her calls.

“You Lagos guys are all the same. You could not call me and when I called, you refused to pick my calls. Well if your mountain refused to come to my Mohammed, My Mohammed has decided to come to your mountain”. She concluded I could not even say a word. I was thinking of the birthday party I had for that evening. I apologized for my inability to call her and informed her of the party I had that evening. My earlier intention was to go to the party from the office but because of Tonia, I had to go home so that she could fresh up and change to more decent clothes.

Tonia’s presence in my office has really destabilized me. I could not concentrate again. She was feeding on me with her eyes and checking on her wrist watch intermittently. Why the hurry? You’ll ask.

Immediately I finish the file on my table, I left the office with Tonia. When we got home, I did not bargain for what I saw, my intention was for both of us to fresh up, change our dresses and go for the party. It was meant to be a cock tail affair among few friends.

“Faari, (that was Tonia calling me) we are not attending any party. We are having our own party here. You should also inform your other girls to steer clear of this house until Monday. My dear, you are under house arrest!”

I opened my mouth, I could not close it, When I regained my speech, I said “Tonia, what you are doing is tantamount to kidnap, are you from the South – South? “Call it what you like lover boy; If you like call me a militant!” She fired back.

A song came to my mind and I started humming it:

“Efrebor, Efrebor you go…”

Don’t tell me you don’t know that song.

BEHAVE RESPONSIBLY; AIDS IS REAL.