UNCLE KAY SEPARATED ME AND MY SISTER FOR LIFE!

By Femi Abulude

Ever since I could remember, people had been commenting on both physical and behavioral similarities between Sister Eliza and I. This was not surprising though Sister Eliza was the first daughter of our parents. Ours was a family of seven, made of three girls and two boys. I was the forth in the family.

While I was growing up, I saw Sister Eliza as my role model, hoping to become a nurse like her in future. Our other siblings were always envious of the mutual understanding between us. I was her protégé, always running errands for her and following her about on social visits to her friends.

Sisters Eliza was already a nurse working in one of the government owned hospitals in the present Osun State that was in the 80s. Before the other family members knew about her fiancé, obviously I had already known brother Kayode. He was a pharmacist working in the same hospital as my sister. Therefore, when both of them got married, it did not require much persuasion before my parents agreed that I should follow the young couple to Osogbo.

Sister Eliza wanted me to be a nurse like her, this had always been my life ambition and I was studying very hard to achieve this, Uncle Kayode was loving and caring too. When sister took to bed and was delivered of a baby boy, our joy knew no bounds Uncle Kayode and Sister Eliza were planning a thank you visit to our parents and his after the naming ceremony. They were to go on Saturday evening; the journey had to be adjusted slightly when Uncle Kayode came back from the office on Friday evening to announce that he would not be able to go. He implored his wife to go because the two parents would be expecting them. That was how sister and the baby went without him.

On this particular day, he came back from the office earlier than usual; I did not suspect any foul play. I prepared dinner in the evening and shortly later retired to my room for my normal evening studies. At about 10:30pm, I had a knock on my door, it was Uncle Kayode. I opened the door for him and he entered the room. He sat on the bed and cleared his throat and asked: “ Roda my dear, how are you preparing for your examination?” I told him I was trying my best, he collected the exercise book from me and was going through the mathematical sums I had practiced.

He made some corrections and explained the answers, after this, Uncle Kayode rested his both hands on my shoulders and said in a very deep tone. “ Roda, you know, you really resemble your sister. In fact, you can go for her double take, the type of love I have for her is the one I have for you too...” He kept on like that, as he was talking, he was removing his boxer pant, I was stupefied. He dashed to the door and locked it from behind, I was afraid. He came back to where I was rooted to the floor unable to move. I wore nothing underneath the wrapper I tied around my chest, he carried me like a baby and dumped me on the bed, he made a gesture to me not to shout. When I screamed he covered my mouth and face with pillow then spread my legs wide apart. I felt his manhood around my naked cunt. He kept on ramming into me. After some jerkins and pumping, he forcefully entered me. Uncle Kayode had deflowered me!

I was alarmed, after some time, he released his power and fell on top of me like a deflated balloon. He attempted to kiss me, I dodged my mouth, I just lay there helplessly. The pains in my groin could be better imagined; he stood up and warned me never to tell my sister or anyone what had happened, he threatened that if I did, he would kill me.

Sister Eliza came back from her journey and I pretended as if nothing happened, I kept what happened between me and her husband to myself, he was extra ordinary nice to me, but I hated him like plague. But the beast has tasted me, and would no stop. He made it a regular affair. He impregnated me once and quickly arranged for abortion.

Nemesis caught up with us one evening. Sister Eliza had just given birth to another baby. Uncle Kayode said he had some private studies to do another baby’s cry. He kayoed said he had some private study to do, he also complained about the baby’s cry. He told his wife that he would prefer my room. I knew I was in for another round sex.

Few hours later, Uncle Kayode came and resumed his sexual orgy. I struggled with him, but as usual, he had his way, we were in the middle of the action when the door suddenly burst opened. In his lustful haste, Uncle Kayode forgot to shut the door! Sister Eliza caught us pants down. She screamed. “Kayode! Roda!!”. She turned back covered her face with her both hands and ran back to her room.

Uncle Kayode quickly dressed up and went to meet his wife. Quarrel ensued between them. Before the day broke, I decided on what to do. I packed all my belongings and left that house. I stayed with some of my mates who were residing in a rented house very close to our schools. That was where I was throughout my examination period. When I was through, I went to my parents. Sister Eliza kept the secret between us till the time I am writing this story.

I eventually became a nurse like her but I did not have a settled home. I am a single mother of two children: a boy and a girl.

OPINION: OUR MONEY IN THEIR HANDS

By Femi Abulude

This is the era of abandoned money. What we were used to in this part of the world were abandoned projects and abandoned children. The various uncompleted projects were caused by unscrupulous politicians, who after collecting the lion share of the contract money from the contractors, rendered them incapacitated. The projects would be abandoned mid way and the story would end there, because all the people concerned and those that were supposed to supervise or approve the projects had been compromised.

The issue of abandoned children is about unprepared mother, who suddenly found out that she was pregnant, could not abort it, and went through the pregnancy and delivery, then abandon the baby.

Somebody said the last civilian regime was like the days of Jackals, it was the buccaneer era. The common wealth of Nigeria has been squandered and shared among the people in authority. When the party was over, the hapless nation was left in limbo. Economy recession took over; the poor masses that had been famished already are told to tighten their belts on waist less hips. The money is now hot in their hands. Somebody said somewhere that if Nigerians had not voted them out at the last general elections, Nigeria would have stopped existing by now. Morbid as this sounds, it seems to be the home truth.

In the real sense of it unfortunately between the last regime and the present one in power, the dramatis personae have not changed much. Apart from the president, Mohammadu Buhari and his vice, Yemi Osinbajo, the political players are still the same. Visit the senate, you will see majority of the former governors, ministers etc. The same thing goes for the characters in the House of Representatives. This is the reason why Buhari war on corruption has been a herculean task. Corruption is fighting back seriously and Buhari’s slim and frail structure cannot withstand the onslaught, hence, his frequent visits to the hospitals.

One thing is going for the nation though. The stolen money is hot in the hands of the looters. They could not keep it in the bank, could not transfer it abroad, could not keep it at home and could not donate or give it out as gifts. If you want to open an account in the bank now, they would ask you if you are a politician or related to politicians. The noose has been tightened on them, hence the decision to abandon these huge sum of money anyhow and anywhere. There is no where they could not hide the ill gotten money. The most absurd is the cemetery. When I first heard this, I thought it was an exaggeration. Pictures don’t lie; the operatives of the EFCC were shown exhuming loads and loads of money from a cemetery.

The money is too hot in their hands and they are bringing it out. I hope the money would not end up in private hands again.

We thank God that the lost money is coming out; my prayer is that accountability will prevail. The money belongs to the masses, let them benefit from all these. The lost money abandoned and the ones traced abroad should be spent judiciously, they are our common wealth.

OPINION: GENERAL ADEYINKA ADEBAYO; DEMISE OF AN APOSTLE OF PEACE

The death of General Robert Adeyinka Adebayo father of Richard Adeniyi Adebayo came as rude shock. Why? This baba was a reference point and always ready to lend his voice and render useful and meaningful advice to issues that concern Yoruba in particular and Nigeria in general.

I had my first personal encounter with this sage and military colossus in 1993 when I was the manager in charge of promotions of KSA Holdings. King Sunny Ade was organizing his foundation (KSA foundation) and I was at the same time gathering materials for a book I was writing on him.

General Adebayo was a member of this foundation. I had an interview with him which I copied verbatim below:-

“Sunny is a nice man who respects his elders. He is humble and generous. Though I met him by accident, I have not regretted my association with him.

Ideally, I am not supposed to be a member of his foundation being his elder, because a foundation is supposed to outlive its founder, but as his ardent fan and one of the people that propped up his musical career, I don’t have other choice than to make him realize his dream.

I met him through a friend, Late Chief Adeleke Osijinrin in 1967, few days before the Nigerian civil war. I had just lost my Dad and we were looking for a juju artiste to play at the funeral ceremony after Tunde Nightingale told us of his in ability to play for us, because of his earlier commitments.

This friend of mine enthusiastically told me about this new juju sensation in Lagos called Sunny Ade, we contacted him and he played for us at Iyin – Ekiti and we all enjoyed his music.

Sunny did one thing after the show that I had never experienced before. He came to me with some of his band boys in the morning and offered me all the money they made. He said the money was their own contribution to my father’s funeral!

I was surprised by this generosity, I noticed that he came to this party in a chartered bus, so I called one of my friends who was an accountant with SCOA motors and handed the money over to him. I instructed him to give Sunny a bus when they got back to Lagos. That was how he got his first bus.”

Why did they tag him Owanbe Governor? As could be deducted in this interview, General Adebayo was a socialite and one can hardly blame him on this. The Western Region in which he took over as the second military governor in 1966 had just gone through a political turmoil.

This was the “WETIE” era; the period of bonfire when properties of political rivals were been burnt, when human lives were not worth a dime

Chief Obafemi Awolowo, who was the political leader of the region, had been sentenced to 10 years imprisonment on charges of treasonable felony by Alhaji Tafawa Balewa led Federal government. This did not go down well with his followers.

The premier of the Region, Sir Ladoke Akintola had been swept off by the first military coup of January 15, 1966. Lt. Col. Adekunle Fajuyi, who came after Akintola was later assassinated along with the military head of state, General Aguiyi Ironsi in a counter coup of July 1966 in Ibadan the capital of Western Region! Tension was high. Some of those who survived the imbroglio were thrown into jail. This was the period of Jackals.

General Adeyinka Adebayo brought hope. He brought joy. He brought peace. He needed to reach out to all the warring parties. This he did successfully in a place hitherto referred to as “Wild – Wild – West”. This made him a regular patron at social ceremonies. The tag “Owanbe” could be translated as “Was he present at the party? And the answer: “Owanbe” he was present!

General Adeyinka Adebayo had played his own role and he is probably giving accounts of his stewardship now. Adieu the ever present Governor; peace maker Baba Niyi, Baba Yoruba, our veteran war hero!

LEAN ON ME: DEAR AUNTY MEG

Dear Aunty Meg,

I want you to help me out of this my present predicament. A couple had just packed to our neighborhood. The wife happened to be my former girl friend whom I lost contact with when I left my home town several years ago. I am happily married but my wife travels a lot. She is an international trader.

This lady took advantage of this and always visited me during my lonely period. I won’t deceive you, I slept with her the last time she came visiting. I don’t want to cheat on my wife again. What should I do?

--- Tee Jay

Tee Jay,

Sleeping with another man’s wife is a sin against God and an offence punishable under the penal code of the land. You should put a stop to this illicit affair. If everyone is sleeping with his/her former lover, what would the world turn to? What would be your reaction if you suddenly catch your wife sleeping with her former lover?

You are the man; let the woman see reasons why you should stop this adulterous act. You need to pray for forgiveness and the courage to stop the illicit affair. God will help you.

---- Aunty Meg

SWIFT DR. LAZARUS

My husband, Lazarus, was an advertisement executive officer in a media house, while I sold provision materials and toiletries in a shop near our house. He lost his job through what I gathered later on to be due to his fraudulent actions. Having nothing to do again, he joined me in the shop.

He was the one that prompted me to join the health team of our church. In this team, we had trained health workers who treated church members and majored in child delivery. I soon learned the nitty – gritty of child delivery.

My husband had mis–informed the people in our area that he was a medical doctor, and that his wife was a nurse. They started bringing their pregnant women for delivery. We became popular and money kept coming in. He later abandoned me in the shop and went to rent a bungalow and erected a clinic signpost in front of the building. He said I was a thorn in his flesh. The reason being that I always taunted him with the fake life he was living. “Dr. Lazarus my foot!”

“Laz, you know, you are not a medical doctor. Why are you deceiving the people? You may end up in jail if the truth is known. Besides, our church members had been grumbling about your deceit…” Jealous woman. I know you are not happy about my progress. It is you and your family members that would go to jail, not me…” We would go on and on. He would shout me down and threatened to beat me up.

The bubble burst when a lady died during child birth in his clinic. Her family did not take it lying low with him. They got him arrested. The police requested for his certificates. He had none; therefore he could not produce any. They milked him dry. He spent close to six months in detention. We eventually rallied round and got him off the hook. He had no other option than to close down the fake clinic.

Shame could not allow him move freely in the community again. He left me and the children and relocated to another part of the city. He established a school and named it “Dr. Lazarus International School”. He sold a dummy to the people that he had PhD in Education. On hearing this, parents started withdrawing their children from the existing schools. They were registering them at Dr. Lazarus International School.

Nemesis eventually caught up with him when it was time to register students for final examination. He had boasted more than what he could handle. Pride could not allow him to approach the schools around him for guidance on the registration procedures. His school was not registered. He was still ruminating on what to do when the registration period expired. Therefore, he could not register the students. Unfortunately for him, an Uncle of one of the students was a top official in the State’s Ministry of Education. This man miffed with what happened did his investigation and realized that my husband was a fraudulent person.

Expectedly, Lazarus could not produce the registration fees he collected from the students. That was how the school was shamefully closed down and my husband ended up in the police net again.

As I am writing this, I have relocated to my home town. The shame was too much. I am thinking of divorcing Lazarus. He had got another woman. It was this lady that came to inform us about his present ordeal. Can you imagine the effrontery!

ADVENTURES OF MR. FAARI: TELEPHONE CONVERSATION

I had an appointment with Roluke as she did not come on time; I decided to wait at the hotel’s garden and was sipping my drink. As I was settling down, I took a cursory look around me. Among all the pretty faces, a particular one caught my attention.

Aa - ah! It was Tessy! This was the girl I brought here last week. I picked my phone and sent her a text message.

Mr. Faari: What do you want here again?

Tessy: Oobi! Useless man (she replied)

Mr. Faari: You are so shameless; you cannot even tell him to take you somewhere else.

Tessy: How does that concern you?

Mr. Faari: It is my concern because I used to bring you here. I own this land!

Tessy: Which land?

Mr. Faari: Tessy, you are an incorrigible prostitute.

Tessy: See me o! Kettle calling pot black!

Mr. Faari: If you annoyed me, I’ll come and create a scene at your table over there.

Tessy: You dare not. The man here is an army officer. his ADC is the one sitting behind you.

I looked at my back and saw this hefty looking guy in smart military uniform. I sulked in silence. Tessy had won this battle. Where is Roluke o?

BEHAVE RESPONSIBILITY; AIDS IS REAL!

RIPPLES!

I worked as a touring cashier in a large firm. This job exposed me to a lot of money. I used to turn this money by using them to import rice from the neighbouring countries. After deducting my gains, I always paid back the money into the company’s coffers without anybody’s knowledge.

Nemesis caught up with me when the customs officials intercepted my trucks during one of my operations. My men and drivers escaped but all my goods were seized. When I could not pay back the money at the expected time, the company invited me to face an investigative panel. At the end of the exercise, I was dismissed from the company.

At this time, I had got three children, one boy and two girls, who were twins. My wife was working in one of the government parastatals. Not long after I lost my job, I realized that my wife was being promiscuous. She was keeping late nights and attending parties almost every weekend. There was a time I saw her in a picture with another man, both of them were wearing the same type of dress. The picture was taken in a social party. When I confronted her, she claimed the guy was her colleague in her place of work. On a tip off from a friend some weeks later, I saw her with this same man at a beer joint very close to their office. This was after office hours at about 6.30pm. My friend had taken their picture. I waited in a vantage position close to their rendezvous and saw everything clearly.

When she got home that night, I confronted her with my findings. Instead of being apologetic, she blew her tops; she accused me of monitoring her movement. She said if I had got a job I would not be following her all over the place. She shouted on me calling me busy body and jobless man who could not provide for himself talk less of his family.

The illicit affairs went on unabated. On another occasion, my wife claimed she was travelling to her parent’s village over the weekend. She said she will take off after the office hours on Friday.

Something within me sensed she was not going to her parent. I therefore pre – empted her. I went to her office and waited at a restaurant opposite their office. At the closing time, I saw the staffs trouping out of the office. I saw my rival coming out as well and entering his car. Few minutes later, my wife came out carrying her travelling bag. She looked around and sighted her lover. She walked towards the car, open the door and entered. They drove out of the premises and sped out towards the out skirts of the town.

I became mad with rage. My mind went to the police emergency number I saved on my mobile phone. I dialed the number. The voice on the console answered immediately. I told him that a dare devil armed robber had just snatched my car and sped with my wife out of the town. I gave the registration number, the make and color of the car.

Few hours later, I received a call that the armed robber had been shot dead and the woman sustained serious injuries and was in coma.

Up till the time I am writing this piece, my wife has not recovered from her coma. Despite what I had gone through in the hands of these two adulterers, my conscience is still pricking me that I have overreacted.