kwencypresh:

Welcome back

Thanks dear How have you been?

Fembleez1:

Wow! That's nice. Yap, Amen bro!

A bigger amen bro..

Fembleez1:

Thanks dear How have you been?

very good

kwencypresh:
very good

That's nice

Fembleez1:

Thanks dear How have you been?

very good

Fembleez1. May God bless your hustle. Please resume

diago94:
Fembleez1. May God bless your hustle. Please resume

I resume this weekend bro Amen and thanks.

Welcome back bros

harjibolar10:
Welcome back bros

Thanks much boss. I duly appreciate your patience!

Part two on its way!








Typing,.........

Update dedicated to God, shoyemiayodeji and all occupants of block A Room 71 Zik hall, UI. I duly appreciate you all.

---

Part 2, episode 51.

---

She had been basking in the glow of a single joyous thought, when she got up from the rest she had decided to court - while she had gotten back from school; after the inter-house sport events. She stared into the ceiling of her room continuously, as various thoughts started to register and stroll across her mind.


The room was lit red by two bulbs on either side of the width of her bedroom. The atmosphere was neither tensed nor was it cozy. It tried to stabilise its course between both choices. Yet, she felt all cold on her bed. She shifted her gaze off the ceiling and straight to the wall they fell; moving off her peach blanket below her midriff with her hand - she maintained focus.


A smattering coolness welled through her whole being. She reached out her right hand to endear to herself, her snow-fur-teddy-bear which had two black buttoned-eyes. Embracing the bear with ruffling carefulness, she felt her pants wet. So wet was it that she knew she had just reached a climax by the way her body shook strangely rewarding.



This she felt had not been brought about by the manipulation of a lad, nor clinton - her very dear lover. She released her hold on the bear as the thought rolled out of her mind that, she had been longing for something she wanted very much but at the same time detest. She knew she could have her way if she wanted but she was afraid, frightfully afraid. A very little charm of her tender age she thought.



In swift instance, Clinton came to her mind again. Should she try to give in to Clinton's invitation to come visit him at his home? She knew what she wanted but couldn't bring herself to terms, she was going to trust a guy. Though, she hadn't any slightest inclination about their jittery as had been told and warned bitterly by her mum - how guys were wicked, unscrupulous and extremely dangerous.


To her, it was not what she believed about men; not what she had witnessed nor experienced with her own heart and mind. Nevertheless, she found it hard to appear she was trying to antagonise her more experienced mother, in the reign of existence.


Contemplating on bringing herself to terms on what step to take, she rose up from the bed and sauntered towards the bathroom. After she had finished taking a shower and changing into a chemise, she strolled along to the window of her well-spaced bedroom. Pulling the shutters aside, she leaned her head to the left side of the window-frame and started sobbing.


She was besotted and knew very well she was. She wanted something so badly that she thought denying herself of it was like damaging her heart, stabbing them to shatters. If she had someone she could explain this to; how she doesn't understand her feeling since the start of puberty; the passion burning inside her. She wished she could keep wishing for it but never was she going to get it. Not even from her caring mother.


She lifted her right hand to her eyes and wiped off her tears. She knew what she was going to do. She nodded and smiled to herself.


Without forceful antecedents - came the lyrics of the song she knew from 3 miles away; from the club atop a four storey-building brothel close to her residence.


“I'm gonna wrap-up all my body in your arms,” she sang that line and pirouetted away gingerly from the window.

She released the shutter she had been romancing while she stood close to the window. It thud and returned back to its position after some momentary darting against the wall.



She tried to remember the composer of the song but she just couldn't. An un-anticipated smile carved out of her cheeks and she decided to visit the second window in her room, which was adjacent the Mariner waters - 15 miles away. She picked her phone up, passed her wardrobe, then pulled the drape aside.

She got a good view of the water because her apartment was taller than the other two houses before the road bordering the water-banks from her street. It was such a breathtaking sight to behold. The water was paraded with blinding flashes of bulbs of different colours. Yellow, white and red bulbs were the most admiring sight she could remark as they lit the water.

The water which had risen to a certain level now, flushed and washed itself against the concrete barricade constructed by a German company so many years ago.


Moving her inquisitive eyes left-ways, she saw a ship titled Queen of the South - with 'whiteys' as they promenade here and there on the deck. One of them stopping beside his colleague, moved his mouth very fast that made not only the men chuckled; but also Fatimah. They went out of view - downwards into the cabin.



That moment, she checked her phone for the hour of the night it was. Realising it was half past nine, she opened the message she saw on her phone - Adefemi being the sender. Message tagged as 'A congratulatory message on the success of your house today at the inter-house sport.'

She read through the message, then getting to the last paragraph, she saw.


“If I don't say this, Fatimah - then I must be pretty-myopic. You were ravinshingly beautiful today. I longed for just a hug from you. Kisses !!! Goodnight princess.”



What more could she had done than to open her mouth in astonishment; bubbles racing in her heart. Sweats gathered all round her body, at the same time, a sudden cold filled her body. She smiled coquettishly.




Clinton had never sent me such message before. Oh, how dear was Adefemi to have sent this, she began. I wish he was all mine. She never knew she was moving backwards until she went unbalanced by a pile of dirty clothes she had heaped-up beside her bed.

She fell lightly on the mattress and the laughter that followed, filled the room. She felt so happy - she forgot her manners. No sane person could wallow in such laughter at this time of the night - without suspicion. She kept quiet and resolved to chuckles, and giggling.


* * * * * *



Sharply, he rose up from the thunderous and injurious somersaults he had taken. He was panting heavily. Panics were a litotes in such vicious encounter. Sweats cascaded down his face in great numbers. His uniform was soaked; stained morbidly that the pink shirt had turned into a blood-shot red. They were torn about in parts that despite the water that lapped them, they still obeyed the winds attentively.

His trousers was dirty too; brown now grazed with black engine-oil-like colour. It was so much in love with the thorns that it held them, piercing sharp pains into his thighs. He writhed in bridled measure, not to arouse his assailants towards where he hid in the looming darkness of the night.

He had lost one of his shoes in the mud he got stuck when his pursuers had chased him with machetes, and guns.


Four fierce looking men, huge like beasts - handled the guns in their hands and cutlasses; determined to beef him into chunks.



As he heard the rustling of leaves close-by, still in the thick forest that looked evil: some liquid strolled down the side of his cheek, finding passage into his mouth. Thinking it were sweats but realising it was blood, he hurriedly examined his head that had been macheted opened; his skull was cracking against his long fingers: heinous pains benumb him into a crying little man.



“I dey hear him cry near that tree wey dey there.” He heard one of his assailants said, pointing the torch towards his unidentified direction and scampered ahead, racing towards the most dangerous part of the forest.


Without calculations, he lost his bearing caused by a root and bumped into the grasses; milling down into a cave. When he had come about, he saw himself in the torch-lit cave; thudding against a girl who was in fright as he was: he realised he knew her voice.



“Mariam,........Arh!!!” He exclaimed poignantly, when he had beheld her horrified face head-on.




“Arh, George!!!” She started sobbing like a baby in her appearance that looked so unkempt. Her face was uninvitingly paraded with sweats; snort and tears. It took very long for him to ascertain how lean and deprived she had grown.



The next sound that echoed into silence both victims hysteria was the cracking of the gun. It was pointed mercilessly at Adefemi's forehead and went off in no time; shattering his head into pieces as Mariam shrieked in fear. Pee scald her buttocks ominiously.




“You are going that way too. They've paid for your life initially but since this fool had decided to prove he was boss to come after us, that's what he gets.” The masked-man 7ft huge lashed out in a threatening - yet determined bassist voice.


He caressed his gun, walking away but another of his gang rose up rapidly with his Ak47 in rage and walked towards Mariam. He dragged her by her hair along the floor as she retorted unsuccessfully - stepping on Adefemi's dead body. He threw her against the rock, positioned his gun and pow-wow; he sent two shots to her head at the scream of “Allahu Akbar!!!”




She repeated “Allahu Akbar,” as she rose up rapidly from sleep. Totally besotted was she - that she couldn't accede to have said the first Allahu Akbar.


Then the unanticipated happened at that moment - that crept baneful fear into her whole existence. The lights went off.






T,b,c,.............

Then the unanticipated happened at that moment - that crept baneful fear into her whole existence. The lights went off.

Huh... that awkward moment, when you have a nightmare and those yeye power supply has nothing good to do, than to take off the light, so as to worsen the situation


Mehn, you are just good in what you do bros
Keep em coming


Thanks for the update

Thanks for the dedication man ........expecting more update.

Sageez. It has started o.

Fifty miles away, a tortuous palpitation overtook Mrs. Bar. Sweats filled the inner shimmy she wore. She felt the hot patch of sweats at her armpit and a itch startled her to scrub at her shaved underarm.

She couldn't bring herself to realisation as she continually gazed into the wall clock that hung on the white painted wall; dazzled by the rays of glittering blue and red lit bulbs. It gave the room some 'clubbish' and a hotel room overtone.

She looked sideways on the mattress at the blue-clothed pillow which laid idle; Mariam's papa not home to share her grieve. She imagined how she had bore the pain alone on that night on birth-stool. She brought herself to an unacceptable assertion that, men were only necessary to warm the bed; warm the lady with thrust, spunk, and at the end of the day - when the pregnancy was due; they get missing one way or the other.


Definitely, she was going to bear this night's anguish alone. Nah, she retorted tersely, I need to put a call to that uncaring husband of mine. But snapping the phone off the mattress, she had compassion on the man who had paid to marry her. Truly, he was trying; providing the necessities of the family and they never lacked anything.


She knew she had also made a resolution to have a man who could provide for his family. Not a wretched man. Though, he might have little care may be, or - totally uncaring. At the same instance, she needed all the care a husband and father could provide, damning his money.



Still wallowing in the loathe she thought she was beginning to nurture this night for that man who called himself her husband - just because her daughter hadn't returned yet from school at quarter-to-ten; she stood up enraged. She tied a wrapper she had picked-off the line handy in the room - over her night gown, then got hold of the door knob.



She waited at the door to contemplate where she was going.


“Yes, where am I going?” She asked as though she were already running out of reasonable thoughts, out of sanity.



She had already gone four times to Mariam's room but she wasn't there. She peered menacingly backwards and scanned the room: the dressing-table; off to the wardrobe: then to the desolated bed. Her gazed wandered-on in exasperation till she dropped it all - off on her toe, that was beginning to shake visibly.



She trudged her body which had now gone weak and unwilling to move - out of the room to Mariam's room once more. When she got inside, she ambled to the window and peered out after the curtain, looking at the well lit environment.

She recalled how electricity had been a bone of contention to the environment. And Generators had not only been making irritable noises but also endangering the lives of the people with carbon-monoxide.


With hateful condemnation, she cursed herself inward. What in the name of Allah was she thinking about? Power shortage that was nothing to write home about over her daughter that had not returned from school at this time of the day.

In quick strife, she paced towards the door, offsetting the bottled water that had been laid probably by Mariam at one side of the bed. She got hold of the door handle, opened it and off she went to knock Mariam's sister up from sleep.



As she approached, she became morose than she had been earlier. How can this girl be sleeping comfortably, so uncaring to realise her sister had not returned home.


Knock! Knock!! Knock!!!


She knocked the second time and on getting no replies, she forced her entry into her room - whose door wasn't bolted. After striding towards the bed, she made no examination of thought on what to do - as she clenched her fingers into a fist. She banged severely with offense at her daughter's buttocks.



“Get up you foolish girl. What in the hell could enchant sleep into your stupid eyes!”



She straightened up and perched her head sideways, ire rumbling in her heart.

“Your sister, whom you both attend same inter-house sport with, is not back yet and you have the guts to sleep.” She emphasised stretching the length of what guts her daughter have got.


Hadizah heavily turned on her side, roughly setting aside the blue blanket she had used to cover her body. She yawned horribly, rubbing the back of her right hand against her grimy eyes. Groggily, she lifted her merely opened eyes to the wall of her room; immediately ignoring her mother's image to where the love-shaped silver plated wall clock was hung.


“Oh Allah!” She snapped and sharply rose up from the bed, putting her legs down.


She happened to have just been awake now. Her mother, rather than brewing another rile for her daughter, flopped into the mattress; her palms to her face, she started crying bitterly. Her body shook in grieve. Her throat and head ached as though an heavy hammer was being sledged on them.




Hadizah moved closer to her and rested her head plaited into a gallant shuku on her chest. She buried her own head aside the shuku and started off after her mother, sobbing.


It took several minutes and inward conviction for Hadizah to know she wasn't supposed to be crying as her mother was. She was needed to be strong and able to persuade and comfort her mother - everything was all right.



“Mum, have you put a call through to Fatimah?” She asked in a low soothing voice, it took strains for her mother to hear what she said and respond.



“No I haven't. Never thought she could stay off in her house without calling home to inform me.” She replied after she had dabbed her tears with the tip of her wrapper.



Then it dawn on her now that, it was the first thing she should have done. She fixed her gaze on the crimson carpet in the room, tears held back at her lenses like shard of ice, waiting to shatter.



“I believe she is passing her night at Fatimah's place. The inter-house sport must have been very stressful for her. And considering she is in same house with Fatimah; they might have been sorting things out till the dead of the evening without realisation.” Hadizah said assuredly, giving her mother the hope she wasn't sure was genuine. Nevertheless, she intended it to relief her worries, and lure her to court some sleep.




“Mum, hope you'll go to bed now? I believe she is fine. Though it would have been nice to put a call to Fatimah now but you see, it's dead late already.” She caressed her mother's cheek and planted a warm kiss on it.



“First thing tomorrow, we'll get to see her.” She concluded and led her mother back to her room to sleep.

Hope Mariam is safe ooo

Fembleez1:
Sageez. It has started o.

wow! At last, thanks Fembleez1, hav bin waitin for this

kwencypresh:
Hope Mariam is safe ooo

I'm stl waitin for ur news o

Lilyomi:
I'm stl waitin for ur news o

ok ma

Update drops later today or very late into the night.

Nobody care about your update again. If you like update or not nobody care again. All of you writing story on Nairaland are bunches of fools. You expect people to always beg you before you update. Middle finger for you bro

jayesmalling:
Nobody care about your update again. If you like update or not nobody care again. All of you writing story on Nairaland are bunches of fools. You expect people to always beg you before you update. Middle finger for you bro

seconded

jayesmalling:
Nobody care about your update again. If you like update or not nobody care again. All of you writing story on Nairaland are bunches of fools. You expect people to always beg you before you update. Middle finger for you bro

Ok. Thank you bro. But often try to imagine what situation might have handicapped the writer.

Afz9095:
seconded

And you, do you even know I just gained admission and my clearance is on Thursday? Do you know how I've been running around to get all the documents I need?




I will just shake my head.

And if not because readers are Lord at this stage of my writing and just that - I'm trying to maintain my composure this afternoon, I know how much I could have bash you with what you used in ending your grievances. if another writer has offended you, you don't come and lash it on me.

As he got up from bed that early morning, he felt outwitted and dejectedly furious. He had managed a bathe after much consideration - if bathing was needed in such situation he was in.



He didn't understand what really happened, what went wrong with Blacky and his mate. He wish he could get an explanation to their negligence soon as possible. He had waited so long with his friend; a major behind all the plots. But Blacky and his colleague didn't return to give a benign exposition of what had happened. His friend had later asked him to go back home and they would get to speak and meet with both men today.



Though, he already had gotten a text this morning that they were to meet at Takwa-Bay beach, to hear Blacky out. He felt really haggard. How was he going to even get to that mysterious place where no car could get to except by boat? He knew he had to find a way because it was highly important. He needed to know who had kidnapped Mariam in place of his own gang.



His plan was to kidnap his niece and demand the recordings of his coquetry and his intended molestation. He never had the plan to kill or hold her to ransom - in demand for some sum. He even planned on instructing the guyz to go dump her somewhere close to her school once the recordings were within his reach.



Queer sweats drifted down his face as he lifted a spoonful of cornflakes - wafting in liquid-milk up to his mouth; across the dining table. He couldn't open his mouth to take it in. It wouldn't even gulp an inch down his throat if he tried to. The thoughts of what really had happened were now playing erratically across his mind.



On the right-hand-side on the dining was his wife in her immaculate veil. She was a light skin lady; fleshy but moderate in size. Her face had been slightly pancaked a little to match the colour of her skin and a red dot stood between her brows.

As she ate, her cheek maintained a smile as though they were carved that way. Down her neck, she was clad in an impeccable gown with a large scarf grazing down from her shoulders.
She swallowed after some rest - the last spoon of milk devoid of flakes and looked up to her husband's sweaty face - then, down to his bowl.



“Alhaji, why are you not eating? Your bowl is still full.” She inquired, ignoring the way perspiration dabbed his face.



She dressed her seat back, stood up and went to the back of his seat; leaning down across his feature; her hands down his chest.



“Oh!” He was jolted back from his thoughts, “I just don't have the appetite.” He lied and smiled dryly.




“Are you sure nothing is wrong, and it is just the no appetite, Alhaji?” She brushed her cheek on his face, lovingly.




“No problem at all my wife.” He replied with a false grin.




She need not stress him any further as she stretched back to her height; walked towards her seat and picked up her bowl. She looked at Salisu with pity as though she knew what he was facing; his ordeals. She stared at him for long till their eyes met. She trailed her gaze off him, shaking her head again and went directly towards the kitchen.



Salisu looked really pale. He looked like someone that had been found out, caught in the very act of stealing. What was she shaking her head for? And the look she gave him, has she found out what was going on?

In swift imagination, he tried to see the probability that Mariam might have come to give her the recording - or even make her listen to it. With the way she looked at him, it pointed to the fact because he had never seen his wife looked at him with such piteous examination.


He looked stupefied at what might have really happened in the space of weeks. He should have ordered his wife from going to Mariam's place. He should have informed and pleaded his wife's forgiveness, he thought. Many thoughts were beginning to make their presence known to his mind.


His eyeballs became blood-shot-red. The lenses were in a flinch - a pit of fury lit. Hot sweats drivelled down his moist face in numbers. His armpits became itchy and irritating. There was a flush and rumbling, down - inside his stomach and in a throbbing harshness, his bladder got expanded and scalding pee heat the walls of his lower abdomen.


What if he had informed his wife and pleaded her forgiveness? He asked himself, trying to bridle his emotions. That would have been a disaster.


“Allah!!!” He exclaimed silently between breaths.


That would have been the end of his life; the end of his marriage. He was not just going to lose his wife alone. He was going to lose the respect of everyone in the neighbourhood; particularly, his uncle - who was Mariam's father.



Then an idea struck him. He was going to take the chance. He was going to summon courage and pretentiously ask his wife may be she had help him receive anything from Mariam. Say, a document, a file or whatever, he thought.


But it was a grave thing to do. What if she attacked him furiously, calling him names? What if she grapple him by the neck, threatening to strangle him to death? What if,....?

This was a suicide mission he was going to take. There was no need for what if, anymore.

He dropped the spoon inside the bowl and stared at the picture of himself and his wife on the wall, opposite where he sat, across the sitting room - still at the dining.

The picture was the primitive stage of their marriage. He almost wept when he recalled as it had all started, rosily. Then, he gazed left-wards in the mashed purple and peach painted room. The plasma TV had its edge showing from the curved-wall-crossing that separated the dining from the living-room.

His eyes shifted from the black settees and settled on the glacial middle-table.



“I'm going to take the risk,” he grumbled incoherently and stood to pace towards the Kitchen to inquire from his wife, if she had helped him receive anything from Mariam.





T.b.c,..............

Fembleez1:

And you, do you even know I just gained admission and my clearance is on Thursday? Do you know how I've been running around to get all the documents I need?




I will just shake my head.

sorry 4 dat bt it's nt lyk i knew dat b4

Fembleez1:

And you, do you even know I just gained admission and my clearance is on Thursday? Do you know how I've been running around to get all the documents I need?




I will just shake my head.

sorry 4 dat bt it's nt lyk i knew dat b4 anyway congrat nd gudluck in school. face ur study,dnt luk @dose girls wit short skirt #advice

Fembleez1:
And if not because readers are Lord at this stage of my writing and just that - I'm trying to maintain my composure this afternoon, I know how much I could have bash you with what you used in ending your grievances. if another writer has offended you, you don't come and lash it on me.

bro I am sorry. I am just angry cos that's the normal way of life of all the Nairaland writer.

Afz9095:
sorry 4 dat bt it's nt lyk i knew dat b4 anyway congrat nd gudluck in school. face ur study,dnt luk @dose girls wit short skirt #advice

Lol. I pray I don't chase skirts cause I love skirts much

jayesmalling:
bro I am sorry. I am just angry cos that's the normal way of life of all the Nairaland writer.

No problem bro. I'm actually not like that if not because of my admission issue now. But I will try and make updates available at least between two days or three.

Fembleez1:


Lol. I pray I don't chase skirts cause I love skirts much

Lol. Jst bcareful d greatest king meet his fall under skirt

Afz9095:
Lol. Jst bcareful d greatest king meet his fall under skirt