The alarm bells rang in my head like a 10.0 magnitude earthquake.

Noticing the puzzled expression in my face, he said calmly, “just relax, I‘ll shower and join you now so we can discuss about the burial”.

With that, he dashed upstairs and Joseph, my uncle’s wife’s cousin, who I had not seen since I arrived, appeared from a room upstairs, asked if I was ready to have my dinner to which I replied in the negative. He then collected my bag and showed me a room downstairs where I would be passing the night.

There had been previously occasions where I had ‘squatted’ with some of my friends who had lodged in 2 or 3 star hotels, but none was as clean and well prepared as this room. Even the towel kept in the bathroom was new. With the knowledge Uncle Emmanuel would not be sharing the same room with me; I mentally became relaxed and free.

With no change of clothing, I resisted the urge to enter the bathtub; I would have had to reappear and discuss with Uncle Emmanuel scantily clad. I quickly had a pee and went out to await Uncle Emmanuel.

He came downstairs and signaled that I join him at the dining table. He asked why I was not eating and I replied that the meal I had taken earlier in the afternoon was still filling. I unconsciously took in his appearance and noticed that he didn’t look bad. He was in a simple track shorts and brown T-shirt and smelt of expensive cologne.

“Snap out of it!” my brain told another part of my brain. Luckily, Uncle Emmanuel’s next question did just that;

“So have you done your calculations or do you have a budget?” he asked.

“Yes I do”. Then I produced a piece of paper I had reworked to reflect N500, 000 in the face of ‘new developments’ (yimu).

He didn’t look too surprised and quietly went through the list before him. My silent prayer was interrupted by the sporadic beatings of my heart.



After about 2- 3 minutes of glancing through the list and asking one or two questions for clarification, he dropped the list on the table and continued eating. Then he called Joseph to bring his bag.

He muttered to me about not having so much at that time and wrote me a cheque of N400, 000!

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I collected the cheque and expressed gratitude. My mind immediately went on overdrive calculating how I would spend the extra N100, 000 once I had deducted the N300, 000 needed for the burial expenses. Perhaps I could even get an I-pad? (Alex will have to wait some more jo).

“Thank you Uncle! I can’t thank you enough”. I gushed.
“Don’t mention. Would have given you more if I could. Just remind me to call Bank tomorrow morning to confirm the cheque”.

After his meal, we sat and discussed over a glass of cognac about every topic possible. Initially, I was uncomfortable with some of his snide remarks and comments on issues I considered rather personal, (he asked about my relationships and sexual orientation) but as soon as the heavy alcohol in the wine started removing shreds of my inhibition, i started growing into the ‘flow’.

At a point I must have totally forgotten this was my uncle because when he asked me the last time I had sex, I replied without restraint;

“Been a while o…maybe 2 years” (where you all expecting I would say 6 months ago or that I would consider my rape as sex?).

‘Wow! I guess cobwebs must have started growing down there o’ He chuckled.

We both laughed and then descended on a long and loud silence whilst watching E! Entertainment TV. We both knew the direction the conversation was going and we both unconsciously knew that the next action would indicate the direction the night would end up (mind reading things). The wine must have perverted and twisted my mind so much that at that point, I stylishly started imagining my uncle in bed.

Rather bizarrely, it was at that point that it dawned on me that it had actually been a while I had a man touch me at the right places and made sweet love to me. It had been 6 months since I broke up with my ex-boyfriend and three months that I was raped and never since then had I felt as Hot as I felt at that point. (Could it have been instigated by the wine or the conversation?).

I felt like making love right there and then; or more like being screwed and banged hard. This may sound weird but ever since the rape incident, I had longed for a hard dick to bang and enter deep into me. Unfortunately, I was with the wrong company.

Out of the blues, my uncle stood up and said; “I have to go and sleep now, would you feel comfortable in your room or will you feel more comfortable sleeping over in my room?”

I wondered why he didn’t just say “let’s go and have sex”. I instantly got repulsed at the rather undiplomatic manner he asked for sex. At that point, my tipsiness gave way to a bout of common sense and reality. How would my aunt feel if she were to learn I slept in the same room with my uncle? The very idea repulsed me and I replied; “no uncle. I‘ll be fine. The room is comfortable”

“Ok o. Goodnight” he said reluctantly.

With that he went into his room whilst I retired into mine. It was already 12.45 am. One more glance at the cheque and I kept in carefully in my bag. I had a brief shower and tried to shake off the tipsiness and excitement and get some sleep. I had gradually started getting some sleep when I heard a knock on the door.

It was 1.30am.


http://www.naijastories.com/2013/02/musings-of-a-hustler-episode-7/