joseph1832:
You didn't make a cover for my collection of poems.

Can you mail me. mrsexplorer21@gmail.com

MrsExplorer:


Can you mail me. mrsexplorer21@gmail.com

Okay, I will. But why didn't you do it when you were doing for everyone?

MrsExplorer:


I'm seriously jumping around with excitement. Thanks so much for the comment and i would definitely work on my punctuations.

I have a few story in the literature section, could you check them out.

Thanks again

Okay ma. You're welcome

Action film

generalbush:
Kill yourself and run away

lol

MrsExplorer:
This is a long story and i am currently on the run. It first started from a strange dream i was having. In the dream, i'm usually sitted on a chair in our bedroom while i watch as my husband engage in sexual activity with another woman. In this dream, my husband and the woman would laugh at me as they do what they are doing but what is worst is i am usually sexually aroused when i wake up and find out that i am always wet after this dream.

Now this is where the twist is. My husband has been impotent for sometime now or so i think, that is, he cannot get it up no matter how hard i stroke and blow, he just cant, keep in mind that we've just being married for 2 years and truth be told the sex has never being really great.

So imagine my surprise when one day i came home to find my husband in our parlour, on the sofa ontop of another woman, his penis as erect as a totem pole, pounding up and down like a faulty molue in a pot hole ridden road, his face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and stress.

They didn't hear me as i came in and i just felt weak, totally lost as to the best way to react. I slowly sat on the nearest chair to me as my legs couldn't carry me any more, but as i watched the madness going on, i noticed that i was begining to feel aroused, my thighs suddenly felt hot and for a minute it felt like i was enjoying the show.

It is crazy i know but i kept watching and even bent down a little so i wont be seen. Eventually when i've watched enough, i left before i could be seen, tears in my eyes and shocked at this self discovery. That night i locked myself in the bathroom and used my Love Machine, crying my heart out as i reached orgasm.

I did not confront my husband and we lived like everything was normal. Over the next few weeks, i'd tell my husband i was going out then lock myself up in the visitors toilet which is just in our parlour.

I watched as my husband brings different kind of women home and proceeds to have sex with them. He never takes them upstairs to our bedroom and as you might have already known, i never confronted him because i loved the show in a perverted kind of way. I'd peep from a crack in the toilet door and watch, totally aroused and wet. When i hear my husbad moaning, it's like a fire was shot through me and i'd get more aroused and every night i'd lock myself in the bathroom, use my Love Machine and think of what he is doing, always crying as i reach orgasm. It was like a drug.

but everything changed when one day, i locked myself up as usual and lo and behold he came home with one of my friends, i know what you must be thinking, this is nollywood, right? i wish it was.

I initailly thought maybe she came to see me and met my husband on the way but that was not it. They actually proceeded to getting down in a way sex starved teenagers do. She kept saying ''take me upstairs'' and my husband would say ''not yet'' while at the same time attacking one of her breasts with his mouth, his hands moving like a mighty spider inbetween her thighs

I was aroused alright, but it was like getting punched continuously by your favourite celebrity, you are bound to start getting angry and i boiled with anger, every tiny pleasure i felt was trippled with the anger brewing inside of me.

I flunged the door open, grabed the flower vase on the table and before they realized that a mad woman had been set loosed, broke it on my friend's head, the vase shattering in a loud thud, she collapsed instantly, struggling so hard to get on her feet.

I picked one of the sharttered pieces and stamped it on her neck, the sharp end piercing her throat, blood gushed out of it like a tiny tap left open. I kept stamping and stamping, hitting and hitting till i'm sure there was like a hundred holes on her neck and face and chest, i even smashed one of her eyes, i knew for sure she was dead but i kept hitting, my husband looked on in shock totally paralized.

My hands and feet were soaked in blood and i was laughing maniacally. I got up and stood face to face with my husband, there was blood on my face and he looked really scared, he started to move backwards and i moved towards him till i had him cornered, he kept saying, ''Calm down, calm down'' but i was having non of that.

I dived on him and bite a large chunk of his neck, pulling his flesh out in the process, a tiny piece of his raw flesh, stuck on my teeth, it tasted like raw meeth. Blood poured out of his neck and in that instant i got my senses back, it felt like i was possessed minutes ago.

long story short, i called the police to tell them what i had just done and they said they are coming. But as the minutes ran on, i had a change of mind, packed some of my clothes and now i'm on the run to no where in particular. I am currently typing this from my phone in a bus going to(can't say, i dont want to be found yet)

I am confused, should i give myself to the police or do i keep being on the run. Please what do i do and what the best way to hide.

Thank you

Dear op,

I was there.


Okay, I wasn’t there in the room literally, but I watched you day by day as you hid in the parlour lavatory to watch your husband have sex with all those women. I watched you from the roof in the next house. I’m ashamed to say as you vouyered him, I vouyered you.


Who am I? You know the house next to yours, that one where they are constructing a new building, the former bungalow that they are adding two more floors to, the one that you see once you look out the parlour window? I am one of the construction workers there. John is my name, although that will not matter to you, not yet anyway but I am hoping in the near future when we see we can become friends, and if possible, maybe something more… But I’m getting ahead of myself.


I’ve been spying on you ma, ever since the first day I saw you walk in on your husband as he plowed away at that young secretary of his. She had been in your house twice already, moaning and groaning like a goat on heat, twisting and turning to the pleasurable torment your husband put her through. My colleagues and I were taking a lunch break on the roof when we were attracted by the noise in the opposite building. When we peeked and saw the free show we stifled our laughter and silently cheered him on before being driven back to work by our foreman. We see such things once in a while when working on buildings, it’s nothing new to us. We have the privilege of looking into carelessly opened windows and by doing so we have the rare opportunity of seeing the most private parts of people’s lives. I could fill a book with the number of weird stuff I have had the pleasure of beholding: a banker who curses his boss while he showers, a pretty goddess of a lady who farts loudly when she is doing the number two in her toilet, a young lawyer who masturbates to porn on his PC in the early hours of the morning before going to work, and several married men who pretend to be doing something in the kitchen and then grab their housemaids from behind as soon as the madam is out of sight.


So many things I have seen.


But this is the first time I am witnessing a murder.


I had a feeling you would react eventually. I and my group of friends placed a bet on how much you would take before you exploded in that toilet of yours. There is only so much a pink vibrator can do. I observed you the longest, long after all the others lost interest in you and your lonely orgasms. I saw the way you always cried afterwards, the heaving in your chest as the sobs burst forth. And I felt so sorry for you. I had made up my mind to somehow introduce myself to you, to see if I could wipe away your tears…But I was afraid because I thought you would look down on me. What would you want with me, a lowly construction worker with an 8 inch tool in my hand?


And then you saw her come in and I knew immediately something was wrong. You recognized her, it was obvious. Your chest heaved again but this time it was with a rapidity I knew that signaled danger. As you rushed out of the toilet I called out as loud as I could for you to stop but you didn’t hear me.


I didn’t think you had it in you. I didn’t believe you would go so far as killing her, and then killing your husband as well.


Well, all that is water under the bridge. The important thing for you to know is that I have been following you since then. When you called the police I waited to see what would become of you. I didn’t tell my colleagues what I had seen, I didn’t want anyone else to be involved. I wanted to see if I could help you in any way; serve as a witness to say you lost your sanity temporarily, hopefully that would give you a lighter sentence. But you changed your mind and ran. I had no idea what you were going to do next, I didn’t want you to get hurt or hurt anyone else. So I followed you.


I followed you ma.


I know where you are right now.


I know that in the past 30mins that I have been composing this, you have been on your phone, browsing or playing a game, I’m not sure because your back is to the window and I cannot see the phone screen clearly. But I know you are a regular reader on nairaland. Sooner or later you will read this. Others will see it as a joke but you will know it’s for real because you know you are lying in a room right now, on a bed with a yellow bedsheet, rumpled because you haven’t arranged it for the past two days. You haven’t gone out since because you are afraid someone might recognize you; you still haven’t gathered the courage to call the police. Well, I’m here to help you make up your mind.


I want us to be friends ma. Good friends if you catch my meaning. I loved the way your eyes went dim as you orgasmed with your vibrator. I would like to see it again up close.


If you agree, and once you get to know me, you’ll see I’m a jolly good fellow. A little obsessive, but aren’t we all.


If you refuse; I will let your husband’s people know where you are. From what I have heard in the past few days, by the time they find you, you would wish you had called the police.


Nod your head twice when you read this. I will be watching.





I’m always watching.

....and Royver sticks the landing!

Dear John,


I did not mean it to get to this, to kill my husband and watch as his mistress bleed to death. What do they say about the choice of a lonely woman? Nothing. I made my choice and right now i am supposed to live with. But what can i say about you? Can you really live with the choices you've made?

You watched with your friends as a lonely woman go crazy, i'm not blaming you or anything but i mean you could have done something. I remember you, Dear John, the construction guy that would smile at me when i go to dry my clothes outside, my eyes swollen from the tears and lonely orgasms from last night. I love watching the way you lifted those heavy duty machines, the rips in your muscles and then i'd swallow my spit almost choking my self in the process from the way i was hungry to have a man treat me like the woman i am.

You knew this, you knew i was lonely, you know my little secret, peeping from your own little hole, But what did you do? You followed the perverted path, you and your friends having a hang from watching me and i guess with some few bottles of beer. Was it fun? Did you enjoy the view, the minutes details of how i masturbated my misery away only for it to come back the next instant with the force of a thousand demons.

Oh, you knew i was going to do something silly, you knew that no woman can perfectly handle what i was going through, you see, the difference between you and i is, i did not know what i was capable of, i never planned to kill anyone. You should have offered a helping hand or your di.ck, which ever you think was strong enough to lift me from that pit of loneliness. I would have been more than willing to play along with you, if not for anything but to spite my husband, to pay him back in his own coin.

I know you have a thing for watching crazy and lonely people do crazy and lonely shits, maybe that's all you are good for, but next time when you see a lonely heart, a broken mind, or a hungry and sex starved woman who's only way of getting it on is watching as her husband sleeps with numerous ladies, its best you offer any help you can in anyway that you can.

I'm lying in my room right now, on my bed with a yellow bed sheet totally rumpled cos I've been in this position for the past 8 hours, too weak to stand up, too distraught to move and in truth I've been playing a game. You know chess? Its a game of kings and queens, that's the only thing that can take my mind off this pit hole i dug for myself.

Its a game with tactics and strategies, offering poisons to kill your opponent, the opening i love most is called the Queen's gambit. Beware John. I've read your message and i feel compelled to reply and also to say you would never see me upclose. Your threat don't do anything to me, my husband's people can go to hell, but most importantly its the fact that you could have helped but you choose to do nothing.

Now that i know you are watching, i'll be watching too. Its now a game of chess for the both of us and know this, I'm the queen here and i have a gambit; dear John, i have a gambit. I have killed before, 2 people i must add and i won't be afraid to kill again. I am determined to live through this no matter what but i cannot say the same for you.

Watch your back!
A woman like me is not someone you want to fvck with, Literally.

The game is set rolling
I'll surely see where this will end
Oya oga royver over to you

wow!
Love d new show

Spit swallowed... Definitely following... Baddo royver i dey wait...

oya both of you comman finish what you started

Ah, the classical Bravado infused response.


A lot of my friends reacted this way at first. They would ruffle their feathers and screech out audaciously at my request, blaming me for their actions or lack of it, not realizing that this knee-jerk response comes from a deep-seated instinct of fear and trepidation. Some of them came to see reason with me after a while. The others, well, let’s just say they will not be disagreeing with anyone ever again. I'm quite sure you'll be sensible enough to be among the former.

I'm not very good at chess. I do not have the patience for strategies. I'm more of a go-in-and-destroy-everything-in-my-wake-and-leave-the-mess-for-someone-else-to clean-up kind of guy. Chess is for wusses without muscle. And I am all about muscle as you have rightly seen.


But for you my love-lorn beauty, I will reserve a little patience.


Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a very hard working engineering student. He came from a lowly family that didn’t have any money to send him to the university. He made good grades in his JAMB, WAEC and Post_UME, but his parents just couldn’t afford the money to send him to school. So this young man went a-begging. He begged his rich uncles who had ties with the Goodluck administration, He begged his cousins who knew university lecturers. He begged his friends who were better off than he was for a little fund. All of them declined his requests. The young man was filled with a lot of anger and disappointment. He felt betrayed by his family, betrayed by the ones he looked to for support, betrayed by the world.


And then after pondering for a long time he realized that being angry never solved anything. Feeling disappointed was no solution to his problem. Fear and trepidation were mere feelings. The young man realized something early in life. If you want to make it out there in the real world you have to be tough. You have to rely on no one but yourself. You have to be resourceful.


And so this young man became resourceful. He kidnapped one of his rich uncle’s little kids and left a bloody finger behind for them to find and a type-written note for one million naira. Not much I know but he wasn’t greedy. He just wanted enough to cater to his needs. His uncle was so terrified he didn’t dare to involve the police. He released the money pronto and got his kid back. And from then on the sky was the limit for our young engineer. He found out that there were easier, more straightforward ways to solve problems than the conventional, socially acceptable methods. Anytime there were speed-bumps on his road to success he knew what to do. And he knew how to keep his nose so clean he was never the object of suspicion. Each and every member of his extended family paid his tuition through school one way or the other and they never knew it. Whether it involved causing family disputes or blackmail, kidnapping or missing items or frame-up jobs, this young man became a master of cunning and skill.


He eventually graduated with a 2.1, a meaningless number in this country of ours if you don’t have the right connections. But our young man hasn’t given up. He has been working on construction sites on the low key but is gradually working his way up. If he sees something he fancies, he takes it; it is only a matter of time.


The hawker that came to your door this morning insisting that you buy her pap? I sent her. The knock on the door twice and when you opened no one was there? I was the one who knocked. I spent half the night spying on you and taking pictures with my cameraphone until you read the post on nairaland and hurriedly went to close the window blinds, thus robbing me of a chance to feast my eyes on the ravishing beauty of your sleeping form in pink underwear. I’m glad you remember me; at least you do not see me as a non-entity. I’ll go easy on you and give you tonight to think about it. Our budding relationship I mean. I’m a gentleman and wouldn’t want to force myself on you. But my patience is running thin. I could even help you out with the police, show you tricks on how you could re-start your life in another state. Whatever you want.


But first fulfill my obsession. Allow me the pleasure of your company. Do whatever you like after that; strategise and play the queen all you want. Let me worry about my own health. When next I knock, open the door.





Open the door and let me in.

Oh wow!!.. .MrsExplorers and Royver be killing me!!!

I'm not very good at chess. I do not have the patience for strategies. I'm more of a go-in-and-destroy-everything-in-my-wake-and-leave-the-mess-for-someone-else-to clean-up kind of guy. Chess is for wusses without muscle. And I am all about muscle as you have rightly seen.

I love this!!!!

speechless

Sticking around

I love the combo...especially for the fact that it was a spontaneous one

Brilliant job MrsExplorers and Royver!

Royver:
Ah, the classical Bravado infused response.


A lot of my friends reacted this way at first. They would ruffle their feathers and screech out audaciously at my request, blaming me for their actions or lack of it, not realizing that this knee-jerk response comes from a deep-seated instinct of fear and trepidation. Some of them came to see reason with me after a while. The others, well, let’s just say they will not be disagreeing with anyone ever again. I'm quite sure you'll be sensible enough to be among the former.

I'm not very good at chess. I do not have the patience for strategies. I'm more of a go-in-and-destroy-everything-in-my-wake-and-leave-the-mess-for-someone-else-to clean-up kind of guy. Chess is for wusses without muscle. And I am all about muscle as you have rightly seen.


But for you my love-lorn beauty, I will reserve a little patience.


Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a very hard working engineering student. He came from a lowly family that didn’t have any money to send him to the university. He made good grades in his JAMB, WAEC and Post_UME, but his parents just couldn’t afford the money to send him to school. So this young man went a-begging. He begged his rich uncles who had ties with the Goodluck administration, He begged his cousins who knew university lecturers. He begged his friends who were better off than he was for a little fund. All of them declined his requests. The young man was filled with a lot of anger and disappointment. He felt betrayed by his family, betrayed by the ones he looked to for support, betrayed by the world.


And then after pondering for a long time he realized that being angry never solved anything. Feeling disappointed was no solution to his problem. Fear and trepidation were mere feelings. The young man realized something early in life. If you want to make it out there in the real world you have to be tough. You have to rely on no one but yourself. You have to be resourceful.


And so this young man became resourceful. He kidnapped one of his rich uncle’s little kids and left a bloody finger behind for them to find and a type-written note for one million naira. Not much I know but he wasn’t greedy. He just wanted enough to cater to his needs. His uncle was so terrified he didn’t dare to involve the police. He released the money pronto and got his kid back. And from then on the sky was the limit for our young engineer. He found out that there were easier, more straightforward ways to solve problems than the conventional, socially acceptable methods. Anytime there were speed-bumps on his road to success he knew what to do. And he knew how to keep his nose so clean he was never the object of suspicion. Each and every member of his extended family paid his tuition through school one way or the other and they never knew it. Whether it involved causing family disputes or blackmail, kidnapping or missing items or frame-up jobs, this young man became a master of cunning and skill.


He eventually graduated with a 2.1, a meaningless number in this country of ours if you don’t have the right connections. But our young man hasn’t given up. He has been working on construction sites on the low key but is gradually working his way up. If he sees something he fancies, he takes it; it is only a matter of time.


The hawker that came to your door this morning insisting that you buy her pap? I sent her. The knock on the door twice and when you opened no one was there? I was the one who knocked. I spent half the night spying on you and taking pictures with my cameraphone until you read the post on nairaland and hurriedly went to close the window blinds, thus robbing me of a chance to feast my eyes on the ravishing beauty of your sleeping form in pink underwear. I’m glad you remember me; at least you do not see me as a non-entity. I’ll go easy on you and give you tonight to think about it. Our budding relationship I mean. I’m a gentleman and wouldn’t want to force myself on you. But my patience is running thin. I could even help you out with the police, show you tricks on how you could re-start your life in another state. Whatever you want.


But first fulfill my obsession. Allow me the pleasure of your company. Do whatever you like after that; strategise and play the queen all you want. Let me worry about my own health. When next I knock, open the door.





Open the door and let me in.

Jesu..... Royver dun CAP am...... Mrsexplorer i dey sip kunu here dey wait for u...

This is soo cool

If I may...

There was and still is, something oily about the guy who paid me to deliver pap to the lady at the motel this morning.

I had been plying my usual route that morning when a carefully dressed man had called to me. He had been standing in front of the three-storey tenement at No. 19. Although the gate seemed shut (it was usually shut anyway), I had assumed that he lived there, probably having recently moved in. I had never seen him before as well. I only had one client in that compound - a aged woman who had gone on a trip last week. She lived alone on the first apartment on the ground floor. I had never had opportunity to explore the grounds, so I couldn't claim to be too familiar with the goings-on in the rest of the building, especially as the gateman never let me linger.

But this young man with the nice biceps had seemed intent on my merchandise. Until i realized that he wasn't bargaining for just the few pieces he had selected. He had other services he would have me render and he was ready to pay. I could have declined.

The exorbitant amount he offered to have me deliver such a small quantity of pap to the motel lady down the street set off alarm bells in my head. There had to be more to this, I thought. His near-frenzied insistence that I memorize and repeat the details he told me, spooked me too. Otherwise, his conversation was polite and soliciting. But beneath the cool demeanour, I couldn't help but sense a quiet malevolence about him that disconcerted me. The fact that traffic along the street that early in the day, was almost non-existent didn't bolster my courage too. He looked capable of doing quick damage to my petite frame if he'd chosen. I had to at least appear to cooperate with him.

I really should go to the Police.

But he had also promised me more money if I kept quiet and did his bidding whenever he requested. How could I refuse otherwise? He had said he would find me when he wanted. That had alarmed me some more. How could he know where I lived?

It was only fortunate that the security guard on duty at the motel was a client of mine too, or getting in would have been impossible....

Continued

As I watch my three boys sitting here munching contentedly on their rice and chicken, I can't help but smile. There's Joba smacking his lips in his signature expression of satisfaction. It's been ages since they had a real meal. They deserve this and more. That worthless father of theirs was no help whatsoever. For all his claims not to have money, he had a robust reputation at the downtown bar. My boys will never be like that idiot! I did need the money and more as it came.

But I can't keep this up indefinitely.

Although the money the man had given me for my services was the equivalent of a month's worth of hardwork selling pap, no one ever got all their Christmases in one day. And I would only be naively optimistic to think this shadiness would go on for much longer. Something had to give soon.

Speaking of which, except I was paranoid, the motel lady had seemed agitated when she eventually opened the door. And I had had to knock quite insistently for a few minutes before that. Without a response, the door had been opened slowly and cautiously till she could just show her face around the edge. Only when she saw me in my simple garb and with the black waterproof bag grasped in one hand, had she stepped out beyond the door, carefully pulling it back in place behind her. She definitely didn't want me looking inside.

The air that wafted out of the room was stale. She looked like she had been crying. Her hair lay in a disorganized jumble on her head, like she had been tossing and turning in bed, for some time. She was clad in a bath robe that bore the motel's brand. She stood on the threshold and by her posture, I was sure she didn't want me to get beyond that point.

What!?? She demanded in a hoarse voice, the irritation dripping from her lips.

Her furtive glances down the hall on either side after I had told her my intentions, and all the while I was speaking, told me she didn't appreciate my visit in any way.

She had not been interested in the pap except that I had insisted and begged that I couldn't leave otherwise. I didn't also have a name to give her when she asked who had sent me. I don't know his name. He refused to tell me, I had protested. She hadn't been satisfied with my answers till I had made an attempt to describe the young man to her. A very brief flash of recognition had passed across her face then.

Only then had she received the pap with a look of resignation and slammed the door in my face.

Should I be worried? I had often had to deal with at least one such weird experience on my daily routine. Two obviously linked weirdos in a weird situation however, was a different ball game.

I want to see how this plays out. And the pay has been good so far.

nuwell:
Continued

As I watch my three boys sitting here munching contentedly on their rice and chicken, I can't help but smile. There's Joba smacking his lips in his signature expression of satisfaction. It's been ages since they had a real meal. They deserve this and more. That worthless father of theirs was no help whatsoever. For all his claims not to have money, he had a robust reputation at the downtown bar. My boys will never be like that idiot! I did need the money and more as it came.

But I can't keep this up indefinitely.

Although the money the man had given me for my services was the equivalent of a month's worth of hardwork selling pap, no one ever got all their Christmases in one day. And I would only be naively optimistic to think this shadiness would go on for much longer. Something had to give soon.

Speaking of which, except I was paranoid, the motel lady had seemed agitated when she eventually opened the door. And I had had to knock quite insistently for a few minutes before that. Without a response, the door had been opened slowly and cautiously till she could just show her face around the edge. Only when she saw me in my simple garb and with the black waterproof bag grasped in one hand, had she stepped out beyond the door, carefully pulling it back in place behind her. She definitely didn't want me looking inside.

The air that wafted out of the room was stale. She looked like she had been crying. Her hair lay in a disorganized jumble on her head, like she had been tossing and turning in bed, for some time. She was clad in a bath robe that bore the motel's brand. She stood on the threshold and by her posture, I was sure she didn't want me to get beyond that point.

What!?? She demanded in a hoarse voice, the irritation dripping from her lips.

Her furtive glances down the hall on either side after I had told her my intentions, and all the while I was speaking, told me she didn't appreciate my visit in any way.

She had not been interested in the pap except that I had insisted and begged that I couldn't leave otherwise. I didn't also have a name to give her when she asked who had sent me. I don't know his name. He refused to tell me, I had protested. She hadn't been satisfied with my answers till I had made an attempt to describe the young man to her. A very brief flash of recognition had passed across her face then.

Only then had she received the pap with a look of resignation and slammed the door in my face.

Should I be worried? I had often had to deal with at least one such weird experience on my daily routine. Two obviously linked weirdos in a weird situation however, was a different ball game.

I want to see how this plays out. And the pay has been good so far.

this is really good, really really really good. But i give up on the both of you. You can have me now......, LOL!!!

Royver:
Ah, the classical Bravado infused response.


A lot of my friends reacted this way at first. They would ruffle their feathers and screech out audaciously at my request, blaming me for their actions or lack of it, not realizing that this knee-jerk response comes from a deep-seated instinct of fear and trepidation. Some of them came to see reason with me after a while. The others, well, let’s just say they will not be disagreeing with anyone ever again. I'm quite sure you'll be sensible enough to be among the former.

I'm not very good at chess. I do not have the patience for strategies. I'm more of a go-in-and-destroy-everything-in-my-wake-and-leave-the-mess-for-someone-else-to clean-up kind of guy. Chess is for wusses without muscle. And I am all about muscle as you have rightly seen.


But for you my love-lorn beauty, I will reserve a little patience.


Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a very hard working engineering student. He came from a lowly family that didn’t have any money to send him to the university. He made good grades in his JAMB, WAEC and Post_UME, but his parents just couldn’t afford the money to send him to school. So this young man went a-begging. He begged his rich uncles who had ties with the Goodluck administration, He begged his cousins who knew university lecturers. He begged his friends who were better off than he was for a little fund. All of them declined his requests. The young man was filled with a lot of anger and disappointment. He felt betrayed by his family, betrayed by the ones he looked to for support, betrayed by the world.


And then after pondering for a long time he realized that being angry never solved anything. Feeling disappointed was no solution to his problem. Fear and trepidation were mere feelings. The young man realized something early in life. If you want to make it out there in the real world you have to be tough. You have to rely on no one but yourself. You have to be resourceful.


And so this young man became resourceful. He kidnapped one of his rich uncle’s little kids and left a bloody finger behind for them to find and a type-written note for one million naira. Not much I know but he wasn’t greedy. He just wanted enough to cater to his needs. His uncle was so terrified he didn’t dare to involve the police. He released the money pronto and got his kid back. And from then on the sky was the limit for our young engineer. He found out that there were easier, more straightforward ways to solve problems than the conventional, socially acceptable methods. Anytime there were speed-bumps on his road to success he knew what to do. And he knew how to keep his nose so clean he was never the object of suspicion. Each and every member of his extended family paid his tuition through school one way or the other and they never knew it. Whether it involved causing family disputes or blackmail, kidnapping or missing items or frame-up jobs, this young man became a master of cunning and skill.


He eventually graduated with a 2.1, a meaningless number in this country of ours if you don’t have the right connections. But our young man hasn’t given up. He has been working on construction sites on the low key but is gradually working his way up. If he sees something he fancies, he takes it; it is only a matter of time.


The hawker that came to your door this morning insisting that you buy her pap? I sent her. The knock on the door twice and when you opened no one was there? I was the one who knocked. I spent half the night spying on you and taking pictures with my cameraphone until you read the post on nairaland and hurriedly went to close the window blinds, thus robbing me of a chance to feast my eyes on the ravishing beauty of your sleeping form in pink underwear. I’m glad you remember me; at least you do not see me as a non-entity. I’ll go easy on you and give you tonight to think about it. Our budding relationship I mean. I’m a gentleman and wouldn’t want to force myself on you. But my patience is running thin. I could even help you out with the police, show you tricks on how you could re-start your life in another state. Whatever you want.


But first fulfill my obsession. Allow me the pleasure of your company. Do whatever you like after that; strategise and play the queen all you want. Let me worry about my own health. When next I knock, open the door.





Open the door and let me in.

Hi friend, i know i should keep this going but lol, i can't. maybe we could arrange a more elaborate drama some other time...., Thanks for ehm, ehm......., everything.

MrsExplorer:



this is really good, really really really good. But i give up on the both of you. You can have me now......, LOL!!!

I inadvertently know where you live now and I'll be watching too

MrsExplorer:


Hi friend, i know i should keep this going but lol, i can't. maybe we could arrange a more elaborate drama some other time...., Thanks for ehm, ehm......., everything.

I enjoyed every minute.
Your writing is really good. I'm not usually online these days but back then when i was a frequent storyteller on the literature section i would have loved to do a collaboration with you.
Keep up the good work, you are going places.

And Thank you too for, you know

JeffreyJamez:
Oh wow!!.. .MrsExplorers and Royver be killing me!!!






I love this!!!!

You're featuring in my new Chukwudi series as a streetsmart detective with a touch of villainy. I hope you dont mind

Royver:

You're featuring in my new Chukwudi series as a streetsmart detective with a touch of villainy. I hope you dont mind

i'd be very happy. n i do not mind at all....,plus i would love to read it too.

Royver:

You're featuring in my new Chukwudi series as a streetsmart detective with a touch of villainy. I hope you dont mind

I am Honoured!!!

It would be a crime if i did not hop onto this:


It's 6am. I stretch, yawn and crack my knuckles as I get out of bed. Not an actual bed. A few clothes I had worn days earlier were carefully piled on a wooden table and arranged to make me comfortable as I battled the army of mosquitoes that sought a feast of my blood. I remember the first time it happened. It had not been more than an hour after Madam left for work that the Oga next door brought home a light skinned lady. I needed no one to tell me what was going down as the intimacy between the pair was obvious. It was not my business so I did not care. However, one day it happened that Oga's wife came back home just after Oga had brought in one of his girls. Curious, I informed John who worked as a contractor in the same building my stall was. We agreed to be the invisible third party.

I knew John had a thing for pretty, married women. Heck, that was why he was my go-to candidate in the first place. What I find appalling is that John wants to take advantage of this unfortunate incident to advance his own selfish, lewd and ridiculously immoral desires. So I decided to keep an eye on him.

He is watching her... I am watching him...

And when things go south....

I will be watching too.

I should add too.....

It was not as if i loved drinking pap or i had someone whom i bought them for. Everyday I see this pap woman ply in front of the motel i secure and the only thing that beclouded my heart was love,I wished I could tell her how i feel but having made some research on her i garnered she didn't have just a child but children and the husband was no where to be found. I tried to create the friendship by buying pap from her on a daily basis. Today when I saw her enter the building where she sells pap to an aged woman who i know had travelled I had expected her to come out immediately then I saw this muscular man talking to her ,he seems to be saying something of interest to her and pointing down the street where our motel was then i saw him give her some cash "How much pap is he buying that he is paying so much?" I thought.
she came out of the building with a nylon containing pap I guess and walked up to the motel, for the first time she smiled at me and my brain sparked and said she would like to drop something for one of our guest,I couldn't refuse her so I let her in. As she walked towards one of the rooms I followed her without her knowing,I hid behind a wall close to the room and watch the drama that took place between her and the woman,I heard everything they said and I was suspicious of the man that sent her, within I know sooner or later he would come to the motel and I will be ready.