The rest of the week was all work for Clara,
she had to do her civil duty at the Cross
River liaison office where she worked at the
same time tend to the needs of her fast
growing boutique, she was so busy that her
friend Wilma had to come to the house to tidy
and keep things in order, Wilma was her
closest friend among her other friends. it
would seem that Wilma didn’t have much to
do, she was one of this rich girls who having
gotten a degree, bluntly refused to work,
living off her family wealth at least until one
ready-made guy comes along, marries her
and whisks her abroad, that was the thing
with the rich, no matter what happened along
the way there was always a ‘happy ever after’
at the end of the tale.
Wilma had a soft spot for me she fondly
called me ‘Mr s*xy**’, when I intimated her on
my life ambitions, my love for writing together
with my ‘very soon to be lawyer status’ she
liked me even more. Wilma was quite handy,
she was an excellent cook too, she knew how
to prepare all sort of Meals, Delicacies,
beverages etc. her specialty was her fruit
juice which she called ‘9 Alive’, she often
boasted that it was far more tastier than the
popular 5 Alive drink. She was not a spoilt
rich kid after all.
Wilma was a 28 year old woman, which was
shocking because she looked much younger,
she was a tall girl, but not as tall as Clara, she
had a little mole on her face, which gave her
a distinct personality and s*x appeal, she was
light in complexion, really endowed with Barca
(Buttocks) and Manchester (bosoms), she
was hippy too. She often gave me a Situation
any time she laughed at my stories and fell
jokingly on my body, when she noticed my
bulge she would look at me and say with a
smirk ‘Bad boy’ as if it was my fault,
considering her vulgar topics, not to talk of
her ridiculously skimpy cloths.
I arrived the gate of the house from the
nearby shopping plaza, where Wilma sent me
to buy fresh tomatoes and grapes two of her
many secret ingredients, i found Adamu (gate
man) and another haggard looking Hausa
man exchanging words loudly, the Hausa man
in a deft move gave Adamu a hard blow to
the jaw, Adamu instantly enraged jumped into
his quarters beside the gate drew out his
matchet and chased this man, giving him a
sharp lash to his back causing blood to spill
out like a choked fountain, the man weakened
by the impact fell to the ground while Adamu
kept on mumbling curses in Hausa
‘Damburubaka… wetereba container’ which I
later interpreted as ‘I will cut your genitals
and put in a container’. I cleverly left the
scene and headed upstairs to my door,
altercations like that most times extended to
the onlookers, it would be so silly for me to
die not of a stray bullet, but of a stray
matchet.
I came into the house to hear Wilma
screaming my name ‘’Enitsua!’’, she probably
wanted me to get a towel for her because she
was fond of leaving it behind before she
entered the bathroom, after cooking she
usually freshened up with a bath. I answered
‘’Yes am coming!’’ so she knew I was coming
to her aid, I ran to the guest room where her
voice came from to help give her the towel,
on opening the door Wilma jumped out of the
bathroom stark nakedd, with water dripping
out of her body unto the floor, her pubicc hair
was glittering from the pockets of water
entrapped on it, the hairs were meticulously
carved, assuming the shape of an inverted
triangle, her whole body was glowing, the
aromatic smell of her soap together with the
graphical image of her Unclothedness hit me
hard and for a moment I froze, Wilma too for
a moment stared at me absent-mindedly as if
I was the one that was nakedd, and then
playfully she hopped to the bed to pick her
towel, I watched with my mouth open in what
seemed to be slow motion, her full perky
breastss hopping with her, swinging
carelessly, making clapping sounds, as it hit
against her wet soapy body. I suddenly came
to my senses when she said to me ‘’baby
attend to the knock’’ it was then I heard
someone knocking the door, even with this
unlikely encounter Wilma made little attempt
to cover her nakednesss instead she wrapped
her towel round her waste and gave me a
recap of her swinging breastt when she
turned and said again ‘’come on s*xy**, go
open the door, i would go but am nakedd’’
she said it as if it was completely normal for
her to pose nakedd in front of me. Still trying
to get the sight of Wilma’s moist breastt off
my mind I ran to the door and swung it open
and there she was, Beautiful Tiffany, there
was this childish excitement between us like a
11 year old kids who just met themselves in
school for the first time after a long vacation,
she held in her hand a plate and a glass, and
said with an insecure expression ‘’Hi…I was
wondering if you would like a glass of milk
and some cookies?’’ I replied ‘’sure… just come in first’’ and she did smiling.
While having a fill of her delicious snacks, we
talked passionately, this surprised me
because the last time she came my
conversation didn’t seem to interest her at all,
Wilma having prepared launch and freshened
up came out of the room, she hailed Tiffany,
and told me ‘’goodbye’’, on-going out she
said ‘ O Enitsua I won’t be around this
weekend, so I’ll see you when I get back’’ she
said it so passively with no emotion, it made
me wonder if she was the same woman that
generously showed me her unclothedness
seconds ago or was it just a figment of my
imagination. It wasn’t up to minutes when
Clara came into the house looking tired and
weary, she must have been overworked at the
office, she gave me a bright ‘’Hi’’ gave Tiffany
a peck and headed straight to her room, the
next time I saw her was the next morning.
I didn’t see much of Clara during the
weekends, and I cared less because Tiffany
was there to keep me company, her visit
became a daily routine and each time we
would talk for hours unending.
Tiffany was not my usual traffic stopping
beauty or the object of every guy’s wet
dream, but there were many things about her
that intrigued me, Tiffany was my age mate,
she was 22 years old, she had these short
black hair which gave her a Keri Hilson look,
dark complexion, small nice eyes, I liked the
way she looked at me playfully when I lied or
exaggerated about something, Tiffany stood
at 5 foot 3 almost Clara’s height, she was a
slim person with small perky bosoms but
buoyant from the waist down, she was really
endowed, something like an hour glass figure,
her big Buttocks fitted perfectly well with her
slim frame.
I got to know a lot about her during this
period, she was a medicine student, who just
finished her 1st MB exams and was on
vacation. she had real passion for literature,
when I asked her why she studied medicine
she said it was to save people from their
Ailments, which most times were inflicted on
them by nature or circumstances beyond
their control, she then looked up to me and
said ‘’I will find the cure for Aids one day, and
when I do I’ll give it to every sufferer for free’’
and i said jokingly ‘’The condom factory will
despise you, because you’ll put them out of
business’’ and she laughed heartily. Tiffany
was passionate about everything, and we
shared a lot in common, Music, politics,
Religion, writing etc. Her face lighted up when
we talked about love or any romantic movie
or novel, she could talk about the movie
Titanic for hours while quoting the lyrics of
the different casts verbatim, titanic was her
favourite movie. I sometimes wondered why
she never had a boyfriend, anytime I asked
why she was single; she simply waived it
aside saying boys were too much trouble.
As the days went by my likeness for Tiffany
became deeper, and I know she felt the same
way it’s just that she was the hard to get
type, she would always strive to avoid any
form of body contact I tried to establish.
Tiffany was the type of girl you could take to
the aisle, she was sweet, intelligent and
charming but looking closely at her I could
see a girl with so much rage and agony
bottled deep inside, Tiffany lived with her
grandmother, when I inquired about her
parents she said her Dad lived in the U.S, she
said this with disgust in her tone, she spoke
very lowly of her father calling him ‘’A good
for nothing Dog’’ she blamed the death of her
mother on him, saying that due to his
cheating ways, her diabetic mum went into a
state of depression and later died of Heart
failure, as a result of hypertension caused
majorly by her Diabetes, as she said this she
started to cry and I comforted her, she made
me promise her that I would not discuss this
with any other person.
I was immediately woken up by about 4am,
by a loud cry, a cry of pain, someone was in
trouble, and am sure most people were woken
up too. The noise came from outside, it
sounded like that of Adamu together with
various other voices who were shouting in
Hausa language which I didn’t understand,
my ears immediately recognised the clanging
of Machetes and I could hear someone being
kicked and beaten, i could hear the slap on a
bare body, with this, the moaning and
shouting got louder, I was now convinced it
was Adamu, when i tried to stand up from the
parlour chair, I noticed someone was lying on
my lap, it was Tiffany, we must have talked
for so long that we slept off together, I
thanked God her Granny was old, and if
Tiffany was lucky Granny would not even
notice that she had slept out that night. Clara
came running to the parlour and held me
close trembling with fear, before we knew it,
Adamu’s shouting soared high as he was
administered heavy matchet blows, he
squalled like a dog being led to the abattoir,
this were followed by deafening gun shots
which brought Adamu’s outcry to an abrupt
end, hearing this my mind quickly flashed
back to the altercation that ensued some
days back between Adamu and a Haggard
looking fellow, though I didn’t know how it all
ended but I reasoned the fellow must have
brought re-enforcement to avenge the assault
done to him, though I never liked Adamu but I
prayed that he should survive the attack.
Adamu died that night, in a pool of his own
blood, he had been made a sport of, his body
was full of deep cuts and his throat was slit
open, he laid down there lifeless with his
brown shirt which had turned to red. He was
whisked away by the paramedics in an
ambulance at about 6 am but Adamu was
already long gone, there were many stories
surrounding his death some said he killed
himself, others said the police came and killed
him because he was a member of the boko-
haram, but the most convincing of them all,
was that the guy he assaulted that day had
come back with his gang for revenge which
led to Adamu’s death. It was said that due to
the fellows rugged appearance, Adamu had
tried to barricade him from entering the
compound, and had giving him a cut on the
back with his machete when he punched him.
Anyway that was how we lost Adamu that
night, rumour later had it that the culprits
were all arrested and were each giving life
sentences. It amazed me however the alacrity
with which this certain group of people were
enraged and how a thing as murder could
result from such minor provocation, I guess it
is true what they say ‘A hungry man is an
Angry man’.
*JOURNEY BACK TO CALABAR*
It was my third week in Abuja, and though I
had enjoyed myself so far I really didn’t have
the adventures I had hoped for, but all these
didn’t matter anymore, because Clara was to
travel out of the country on a seminar and I
couldn’t be left alone in Abuja with strangers.
On a Tuesday morning she came and relayed
the sad news to me, to say the least it was
disheartening. I was to take a flight back to
calabar that afternoon. I didn’t achieve much,
I didn’t get to lay s*xy** Clara, I didn’t get to
feel Wilma’s bosoms, I saw it but I couldn’t
touch, I didn’t even get to kiss Tiffany, highest
I got was a hug which was given with much
begging on my part, I was to go back home
an unfulfilled man .
We arrived the airport around 2 o’clock that
day, Wilma was back from her break so she
accompanied us, Wilma wore a bump short
and a yellow sleeveless top, all the men
around stared lustfully like zombies, but as
usual, Wilma didn’t give a rats Bottom. I had
tried Tiffany’s number over a million times but
her phone was switched off, I didn’t see her
that morning because I was too busy
mourning my untimely demise plus I had to
pack my stuff’s, before I left I went to
Tiffany’s place to inform her about the
development but her house was locked,
during my stay i noticed that the house was
locked every week on Tuesday between 1 and
3 o’clock, I wondered why. The airport
reminded me of the day I landed at the Abuja
airport, the moment I set my eyes on Clara
from a distance and the hug that followed, a
clog of tear almost rolled down my eyes, of
all the things I would miss, Tiffany would be
missed the most, but I knew we would talk
everyday on the phone.

To be continued in the next post