brokoto: don't mind her. Guilty of the same crime yet accusing others. Better upload your own pix o! Else I'll cut off that hanging tongue.

THE GANG. . .

From left to right:

Akeem 'Akeembo' Aremu: Dimunitve, dark complexioned, muscular and tribal marked, Kwara state-born Akeem is a no-nonsense guy who makes up in sharp mouth what he lacks in height. He often took us to the cleaners and gave us a thorough washing down whenever we made fun of his beloved Kwara state. A staunch muslim (and the only muslim in our midst), he gave me a series of lectures on 'jinn', or evil spirit. He said we are to recite something or the other before taking our baths to clear off jinn from the environment. Then when bathing, we shouldn't talk and we must keep our private parts covered. When a couple wants to make love, the lights must be off so that jinn will not be given a free show or something like that.

I will never forget the day JP and Uba stole his clothes when he was bathing. After washing the soap from his eyes, he discovered to his chagrin that his clothes and towel had vanished. Since he couldn't talk, he could only growl and grunt deep in his throat in frustration, while the guys stood at the other side laughing hysterically. Nice and funny dude. Really miss him.

Azeez 'AZ' Lawal: AZ from Kogi state is an Igala boy who talks the talk but sure as heck don't walk the walk. In Wasimi, he was a ladies' man who had an eye for pretty women, Yours Truly included. If I had given him a chance to "enter the place", the dude would have dived in without hesitation. Nevertheless, he is a very funny and easygoing guy. He and I had our very private language: refined Igbira language. We theatrically mimmicked our Igbira neighbours when greeting each other and this earned us stern warnings from The Guys . When I heard from him last, he now works in NNPC as a contract staff.

Uba 'Ubaneezy' Okafor: Now this dude from Enugu state is one heck of a character. A typical Igbo man who has the Igbotic mentality of what a woman's place should be. According to him, he was going to wife me ONLY if I lost some weight. And he meant every word of it.
He is a health and fitness nut who jogged with Nedu for miles and miles on end twice a week. They were able to convince JP and Akeem to go jogging with them on two occasions. JP said he almost collapsed on the way and was forced to take a cab back to Wasimi, while Akeem, after jogging twice said he had better things to do with his time. The day he made the mistake of dragging Ishilove along, he and Nedu had jogged for less than three minutes when they suddenly remembered I was supposed to be tagging along with them. They stopped and looked back to discover that I had slunk back to my hut like that insidious cat, Sylvester in Looney tunes. I can't kill myself abeg.
He is with FRSC now, where I am sure his superfitness is working in his favour.

John 'JP da Josman' Christopher: JP my love, my darling, me sweetheart!! He's my favourite Plateau man any day, any time. He was engaged back then in Wasimi, but he confessed that if hadn't being attached, he definitely would have had tried to have a relationship with me. He flirted with me every minute of the day and I flirted back with great vigour. He was also the closest to me among the guys. He is a very sweet guy, a lively conversationist, a spiri-koko guy and an all round great person. I had the biggest crush on him but since I respect people's relationships, I didn't try to muscle in on him.
He got married two years ago and had his first child, a boy last year. I keep joking with him whenever we talk on phone that his then fiancee stole him from me.

Great guy. Very great guy

Grin Grin - She was called to take this picture while she was in the middle of doing her laundry on a hot evening. Sweating, her hair encased in a hair net and feet shod in blue dunlop slippers, she had stripped off her wrapper, grabbed one of her battered jeans and tee shirt and joined the guys. Fufu thainz were already at work. Notice JP beside her. JP never missed an opportunity to be close to her.



Nedu 'Biggie' Ejikeme: Abia state-born Nedu was the only batch B corp member. 6ft3, handome and chubby, he is the quintessence of the that specie of manhoood called 'The Igbo Nigga'. He was the vey first corp member to welcome me that fateful March day. He ushered me into the staff room and gave me a pep talk, all the while insisting Wasimi wasn't as bad as it looked. He is a believer of bloody revolution as a vehicle for change in the country.
He, along with Akeem were the only ones who did not hit on me because he likes his women tall and slim. He however did confess that after barging in on me in my room one evening while I was in my birthday suit and beholding my glistening, glorious body (), he seriously reconsidered his stance.
He passed out a few months after I took up residence in Wasimi and he is presently into private business (bizinays)

Da Hood Niggah: I don't know this dude's name but he was one of the eligible bachelors in da hood. He was quite popular with the girls and Wasimi damsels swooned anytime he smiled their way. He combined cocoa farming with some business runs, so he was quite comfortable, in a local champion sort of way.
I really don't know who invited him into the picture because the photograph was supposed to be an all corpers affair. Nevertheless, the guy added a sort of 'local swag' to the photograph, so it's all good

So there you have it. THE GANG.

They made life a bit bearable for me in that backwater roadside village that was home to me for one year. Though we are dispersed in different corners of the federation, I carry them in my heart everywhere I go

The thread left me rolling on the floor, anty ishi with very little work you'll be a worthy successor of one on nigeria's illustrious sons, mr Obabhagon.

Ubenedictus: The thread left me rolling on the floor, anty ishi with very little work you'll be a worthy successor of one on nigeria's illustrious sons, mr Obabhagon.

Obahiagbon?? Na, don't think so.

Ishilove:
Obahiagbon?? Na, don't think so.

maybe you even beat obahiagbon when u narrate, the way you capture u audience and all, infact your discription is superb but seriously your grammer makes me think of obahiaghon, i think u'll really make a fortune by writting or just speaking (like our politician do). Have you ever though of puting this piece into a book form?
Unfortunately for me it seems i was born with a very bad timing, i usually meet the party when its over.
Keep up the good work

Ubenedictus: maybe you even beat obahiagbon when u narrate, the way you capture u audience and all, infact your discription is superb but seriously your grammer makes me think of obahiaghon, i think u'll really make a fortune by writting or just speaking (like our politician do). Have you ever though of puting this piece into a book form?
Unfortunately for me it seems i was born with a very bad timing, i usually meet the party when its over.
Keep up the good work

er... bros. i think you need to search for Larrysun here on nairaland. its probably him you are referring to

brokoto: er... bros. i think you need to search for Larrysun here on nairaland. its probably him you are referring to

As in ehn. The guy's grammar is something else. Can't understand half the things that guy writes.

Ubenedictus: maybe you even beat obahiagbon when u narrate, the way you capture u audience and all, infact your discription is superb but seriously your grammer makes me think of obahiaghon, i think u'll really make a fortune by writting or just speaking (like our politician do). Have you ever though of puting this piece into a book form?
Unfortunately for me it seems i was born with a very bad timing, i usually meet the party when its over.
Keep up the good work

Thanks. I intend to.

brokoto: er... bros. i think you need to search for Larrysun here on nairaland. its probably him you are referring to

i'll check out d sun guy, but i was impress by ishi's construction and all.

Back in the staffroom, I was trying to prepare for my next class when the devil started ministering to me. I tried to block out his very persuasive voice, but after some time I found myself listening to his submissions.

That's very wise of you to have discerned that demon talking to you... i'm also intrigued and captivated by your narrative

dis ur tory dy dull moment jor.....

Phinity318: dis ur tory dy dull moment jor.....

Pele. You fit waka pass if you no like am, or write ya own make we read.

trolling: Back in the staffroom, I was trying to prepare for my next class when the devil started ministering to me. I tried to block out his very persuasive voice, but after some time I found myself listening to his submissions.

That's very wise of you to have discerned that demon talking to you... i'm also intrigued and captivated by your narrative

Thank you sir. We have been given the power to discern between right and wrong

Ishilove:
LONELINESS.

It is a terrible thing. It can drive a person to the edge of dementia. It can make one cook all manner of evil in the laboratory of one's heart. It can even make a mentally stable person seriously contemplate suicide. Add boredom to the mix and you have a recipe for unbelievably outstanding mischief and disaster.

In Wasimi, this deadly combo were my constant companions and inevitably, I bowed down to their promptings.

My 'adventure' with Chairman had temporarily driven thoughts of escape from my mind and for a few weeks I was able to concentrate on my students' academic needs.

Now my students were in a class of their own. The males had cocoa farming on their minds and their greatest ambitions were to build cocoa empires that would surpass that of 'Egi Momoh' ( 'Egi' is a sort of title for adult men).

Momoh was my employer who had a VERY modest cocoa trading business and only managed Kind Comprehensive College,Wasimi on the side. His elder brother had been the original owner of the school but he was tragically killed while helping some children cross the fairly busy Ondo-Akure expressway a few years before I arrived at Wasimi. Momoh successfully ran the school down, but that is a tale for another time.

The females on the other hand had stellar ambitions of becoming 'Iya so so and so', or 'Aya so so and so' and even while I was still there some managed to accomplish this 'great' ambition.

The children of Wasimi had wonderful visions indeed, so they attended school just to fulfill all righteousness. Us bloody corpers with our paper degrees could go stick our education up our collective khakied heinies, didn't we know they were going to surpass Egi Momoh who lived in the wooden storey building someday?? Didn't we know they would marry Egi so and so and give birth to Mimiko's successor?

Only a few amongst them took classwork seriously, but a vast majority of them, the most intelligent girl in the school inclusive had set their sights on some muscular farmer gentlemen whom they were sure would make good mentors and good husbands. The most intelligent girl in the school, fifteen year old Nnenna was a great dissappointment because she eventually ran off before my service year was over to go and 'settle down' with her twenty-year old apprentice vulcaniser boyfriend in Ondo town. Her mother had seen the signs before hand and had come to our quarters weeping and begging us her teachers to help her counsel Nnenna. Uba 'Ubanezzy', the only corp member of Igbo extraction took it upon himself to counsel the wayward teen and did so in the staff room for close to an hour. Yours Truly tried in vain to eavesdrop, but they had been speaking some very conk igbo dialect so I could not make out what they had discussed, but whatever Uba said obviously hadn't made any impression in Nnenna's mind because a few weeks later, she performed a hijrah to Ondo town. What a waste,
such an intelligent girl. . . Intelligence isn't always enough I guess.

With Nnenna gone, we were left with the er, 'challenged' students like Jacintha Okoro and her ilk. A very dull bunch these set of students were. I will never forget a certain day John 'JP Da Josman' Christopher screamed in the staffroom, scaring the bejeezus out of all us.

"JP, wetin happen na?!?" Azeez 'Azeezma' Hassan had wheezed out in alarm. JP screamed again, and it finally dawned on us that JP was screaming in laughter. What was the cause of JP's mirth? JP who handled agricultural science and economics had given the SSI students a test and as usual the kids had murdered the test. Jacintha Okoro, who was probably the dullest student in the entire school performed spectacularly woefully in Economics, but her agric science script was the inspiration behind John's paroxysm of laughter. One of the questions in the test had asked:

"What is heat period in animals?"

Our Jacintha (spelt 'Jecinter' by Miss Okoro herself) had confidently answered:

"Heat period is when a male and woman comes together for joiking" .
(Heat period, in a manner of speaking, IS a period of 'joiking' ).

Pretty Jacintha was very confident about her answer because young as she was, 'joiking' was one of the very few things she was extremely good at. The neighbourhood boys gave glowing testimonies to her skill and expertise in this area, and even our own Azeez had received tutorials from her. The shameless Azeez had alleged that she had bested him on every side. How apalling.

(Earlier this year I sent the question and answer as a text message to JP. John, now happily married and living in Jos had called back immediately. He brayed manaically with laughter in my ears for about a minute or so before dropping the call and calling back some minutes later after he had composed himself )

In biology, Azeez had his own share of laughter.
One of the questions had gone thus:
"What is a ruminant?"

A student, a male this time (I forget his name) had written:

"A ruminant is when you have four spinal cords"



At the junior level, one of the questions had asked:

"List the methods of fish preservation you know".

Rabiat Mohammed in Jss 1 wrote:
1) In Baikin
2) In Kajola
3) In Wasimi
4) In Obondo

(these places are the sorrounding villages close to Wasimi)

I handled CRK,government and literature,and in that particular test, I had asked the junior class what manna had tasted like and they unanimously agreed on pounded yam! (Months later another group of students opted for fufu, but that is a tale for another time. The thought of God raining down mounds of fufu and pounded yam on the hapless Isrealis in the wilderness always makes me shake my head in wonder at these kids).




I really have to take a break now. Need to charge my phone and crack my knuckles .

And perhaps text JP again,its been quite a while

Lmao!

Smh...how time flies

Ishilove:
*** I called JP's number to catch up on old times. His madam picked. I borrowed myself brain and quickly cut the call ***

As I was saying. . .

Though the students' classwork and assignments provided some sort of comic relief for us corpers, it wasn't enough to satisfy my deep yearning for "more". I felt as if I had stopped living and was merely existing. I have always been a restless spirit; I have always wanted to travel the world alone and see sights that will dazzle my senses in an explosion of colours.

I had being cooped up all my life in Lagos; birth, residence and education, all in Lagos. For the first time in my life I was leaving home and nothing in this world was going to stop me, so when my folks had wanted to work my redeployment back to Lagos when I was in camp, I stubbornly and consistently foiled all their attempts.

Wasimi was the reward for my stubborn determination.

Whenever I called home to bemoan my 'condition', my elder sister would laugh into my ears and declare expansively, " I think you want to see the world, abi? Oya sit in front of your mud hut and watch cars passing. Its part of seeing the world!!"

Life in Wasimi merged into one long, mind numbing, monotonous struggle to avoid that black hole called Dementia. Same routine, different days, or like rapper Method Man said, "same sheeit, different day".

Get woken up by the blare from my next neighbour's mega Kchibo radio, 6.30am
prompt.

Say my prayers

Get ready for school.

Go to school and talk myself hoarse in front of a bunch of kids who didn't give a rat's mangy asss about what this Aunty Corper was blabbing about.

Squint at barely legible handwritings and puzzle out what the students were trying to tell me in assignments and classwork written in 'Engli-igbo' and 'Engli-yoruba' language.

Make way back to my humble ('humble' is actually an understatement) abode by 3.30pm.

Doze fitfully for a couple of hours if the blazing Ondo sun would allow it.

Sit outside by 6.pm and despondently wait for Iya oni fufu (fufu seller) to pass by to buy my daily ration of fufu, while at the same time keeping an eye out for my neighbour's pesky four legged thief of a nanny goat who had an obssessive fondness for my waste bin, and fighting off the relentless onslaught on my skin by the ubiquitious sunflies.

Assemble with the rest of the guys in Ubaneezy's room by 7.30 to squabble over charging space for my phones.

Make my weary way back to my room by 10pm to rage at the heavenlies over my "imprisonment" in Wasimi.

Fall asleep mid-rant.


Get woken up at 6.30 am by conk Yoruba music from neighbour's small but mighty radio.

Whole vicious cycle of mind numbing, soul destroying, dementia inducing monotony repeats itself.

On and on it went. No respite, no variation. I was so terribly lonely and unhappy, sometimes secretly shedding a FEW tears to lessen the weight of the terrible yearning in my heart. Loneliness and desperate boredom inspired my 'adventure' with Chairman.

Loneliness inspired another 'adventure' few weeks after the Chairman incident.

This made me smile. I've forgotten so many things about that rustic rural settlement, but reading this brought almost everything flooding back

Ishilove:
A house burned down in Wasimi. Well, at least a mud hut {i call it a house because Wasimi is a community of mud hut dwellers}. The tragedy occurred around 8pm that fateful evening.

We {corp members} had gathered to charge our phones in the hut of a corp member who was ingenious enough to have connected a wire to the barber shop next door,so that whenever the barber put on his generator,his little room would have electric power. Everyone was in foul mood that day,as I recall. The weather was very sultry,mosquitoes were feasting on our sweaty bodies with reckless abandon,and the whole atmosphere felt oppressive. Nearby a group of farmers were chatting away happily. I continually glared malevolently in their direction. "How can anyone be happy on night like this?", i asked myself. Restlessly i got up to check if anybody's battery was full so i could charge mine,it was getting late and I badly wanted to go back to my tiny room where my companions were 'roaches and rats, to rage at the heavenlies and NYSC for bringing me to this backwater village.

The normally amiable John 'JP Da Josman' Christopher noticed my movements and snarled "Ishi don't disturb my charger!". I barked back, "I'm not disturbing your phone!!". JP usually made it a point of duty to flirt with Your's Truly at a every given opportunity {I was the only female corp member in the midst of seven guys}, but not so this night because everyone was in a foul mood indeed.

Out of the blues, screams of " ile n jono!!" rang through hot night.

I wondered which raggedy asss mud hut had caught fire. Everyone rushed out of the hut to behold a dilapidated building burning merrily. My guys rushed to the scene of the fire,leaving me alone with the charging phones. Immediately the broad shoulders and muscular and hairy chests exited the room,my eyes began to gleam evilly.

Ignoring the anguished and terrified screams outside, I pounced on the unattended phones and set about disconnecting phones and replacing them with mine. This done,i went outside and did my own share of sympathetic screaming and rushed back to guard my phones jealously.

Corper Akeem 'Akeembo' Aremu, a very dark complexioned, dimunitive, tribal marked version of Iron Man rushed into the room, beheld my treachery with the phones and promptly usurped the remaining unattended charging phones with his own with amusing alacrity. When he had connected all his phones,my partner in crime winked at me and declared expansively that he wanted to go back to watch "that bush conflagration" {as he put }. Na person burning house den turn to cinema.

Hours later,when my guys returned and beheld Akeembo and I's shenanigans with the phones,a very vigorous quarrel broke out. Wetin be my own; the koko be sey all my phones charge wella

LMAO

KAPABLE3:
Superstar Beklin Brown Set To Drop Show Me Your Love Ep

Get this shit_away from my thread.

Ishilove:

Grama ke? You neva see grama o. Go to the Religion section and read the posts of folks like Deep Sight,thehomer,Enigma,plaetton and co and you go fear fear wey go fear you. Won ti ya weyrey ni be.

Na run me run comot for that section before my head go somersault with all the big big grama den dey blow dia.

Awon weyrey

Ishilove:
A house burned down in Wasimi. Well, at least a mud hut {i call it a house because Wasimi is a community of mud hut dwellers}. The tragedy occurred around 8pm that fateful evening.

We {corp members} had gathered to charge our phones in the hut of another corp member who was ingenious enough to have connected a wire to the barber shop next door, so that whenever the barber put on his generator, his little room would have electric power.

Everyone was in a foul mood that day,as I recall. The weather was very sultry, mosquitoes were feasting on our sweaty bodies with reckless abandon,and the whole atmosphere felt oppressive. Nearby a group of farmers were chatting away happily. I continually glared malevolently in their direction. "How can anyone be happy on night like this?", i asked myself.

Restlessly i got up to check if anybody's battery was full so i could charge mine, it was getting late and I badly wanted to go back to my tiny room where my companions were 'roaches and rats, to rage at the heavenlies and NYSC for bringing me to this backwater village.

The normally amiable John 'JP Da Josman' Christopher noticed my movements and snarled "Ishi don't disturb my charger!". I barked back, "I'm not disturbing your phone!!". JP usually made it a point of duty to flirt with Your's Truly at a every given opportunity {I was the only female corp member in the midst of seven guys}, but not so this night because everyone was in a foul mood indeed.

Out of the blues, screams of " ile n jono!!" rang through the hot night.

I wondered which raggedy ass mud hut had caught fire. Everyone rushed out of the hut to behold a dilapidated building burning merrily. My guys rushed to the scene of the fire,leaving me alone with the charging phones. Immediately the broad shoulders and muscular, hairy chests exited the room, my eyes began to gleam evilly.

Ignoring the anguished and terrified screams outside, I pounced on the unattended phones and set about disconnecting phones and replacing them with mine. This done,i went outside and did my own share of sympathetic screaming and rushed back to guard my phones jealously.

Corper Akeem 'Akeembo' Aremu, a very dark complexioned, dimunitive, tribal marked version of Iron Man rushed into the room, beheld my treachery with the phones and promptly usurped the remaining unattended charging phones with his own with amusing alacrity. When he had connected all his phones, my partner in crime winked at me and declared expansively that he wanted to go back to watch "that bush conflagration" {as he put }. Na person burning house dem turn to cinema.

Hours later,when my guys returned and beheld Akeembo and Ishi's shenanigans with the phones,a very vigorous quarrel broke out.

Wetin be my own; the koko be sey all my phones charge wella

*chuckle*

Ahh, memories...

Thoroughly enjoyed reading Wasimi chronicles. Spent 2 hours+ of my sleep time and I don't regret it...yet(I'm sure I will by 6am).

I've known (about) you on NL, but this tales has shown me a new side of you. Cool. To think we're from the same state too. Feeling kindred.

Asiseeit:
Thoroughly enjoyed reading Wasimi chronicles. Spent 2 hours+ of my sleep time and I don't regret it...yet(I'm sure I will by 6am).

I've known (about) you on NL, but this tales has shown me a new side of you. Cool. To think we're from the same state too. Feeling kindred.

Thanks

Lol.... love this ❤️ , BTW ishilove , you don't write anymore? Would totally read anything you write

chrysan:
Lol.... love this ❤️ , BTW ishilove , you don't write anymore? Would totally read anything you write

Thanks for reading. Life happened and I got distracted. I still write occasionally when I remember I have a laptop

I have a couple on my profile

Ishilove:

Thanks for reading. Life happened and I got distracted. I still write occasionally when I remember I have a laptop

I have a couple on my profile

Lol... okay. All the best

Ishilove:

You had fun,ba? Good for you.

I'm a reserved person so I didn't exactly have 'fun'. Those who could have given me fun experiences, corpers and civilians alike, had an unflattering fondness for my knees and waist . No thank you very much. I chose to take my chances with the Wasimi farmers, turkeys, goats and 'kotonkan'. At least these set of creatures are predictable. Well,except for the goats... Do you know that goats eat fish??!!

I made this startling discovery the day I kept two roasted 'eja Hawusa' (Hausa fish) outside. I had bought the fish in Ondo main market some days before,and since I wasn't ready to use them,I left them outside my mud hut to dry in the blazing sun. Less than ten mintes later, I came out to spread my laundry. After spreading, I was about to re-enter my hut when something stopped me.

Something seemed . . . off . . .

Standing under the hot sun, feeling hot and icky, I was still wondering what was amiss when my eyes casually fell on the tray I had placed the fish. The tray lay gleaming dully in the midday sun sans fish. Before I could stop myself, I howled "What da fucck?!!" (I usually resort to french when I'm upset). Who was the bloody thief that had stolen my fish in less than ten minutes?!? Had they been timing my movements?!?

My neighbour, Mummy Nurse, attracted by my rants came to enquire what had upset her bespectacled, usually reserved, quietly intense corper neighbour. By this time my glasses lay askew on my face and I was foaming at the mouth. I know its just fish but I had had serious plans for the fish, and besides I paid good money for it, so I deserve my money's worth,right??

I reported this spectacular theft to Mummy Nurse, liberally spraying her face with spittle while I was at it. She made her investigations and it was discovered that my neighbour's nanny goat was the only creature abroad in the less than ten minutes it took for my fish to grow legs and dance off merrily into the sunset. I suddenly remembered that the goat had rigmaroled the area shortly before I came to drop the fish outside, and she had stood a little distance off, watching me as I innocently placed the fish outside.

I thought goats ate only grass! So goats eat fish!? Mummy Nurse solemnly answered in the affirmative. I was . . .embarassed. Good thing nobody was around when I was letting rip the stream of "sheeit"s and "fucck"s

I ended up eating my soup with eja Shawa

Who is liking these posts? You are bringing back memories

Ishilove:
Another date, another politician. I wondered what surprises awaited me.

O there were surprises alright. BIG surprises.

I cooked palmoil jollof rice with smoked fish that day. The rice turned out wonderfully well and I wished my dear mother was close by so that she could taste this culinary triumph. I have often been teased that I am a horrid cook, but I know that it is just 'bad belle' worrying all my haters . My friend in Akungba came over one day and I served her jollof spaghetti cooked with sardines. After just a few spoons, she pushed the plate aside and declared my spag one of the worst spag concoctions she had ever tasted in her entire life. After this scathing verdict, I was forced to swallow my pride and go to Mummy Nurse's shop to buy her Mirinda, bread and groundnuts. Deep down in my heart I know she bears a grudge against me that's why she condemned my fine cooking. Hmph!

Anyway, I ate my delicious rice sparingly so that my tummy wouldn't shoot out too much. I have a flat tummy but fufu was doing some serious 'strong tinz' to the shape. Ridges and contours were appearing where there was hitherto firm flesh. I intended wearing my sexy jean trousers again and since the waist band was tight, it was going to push all the extra flesh UP towards my bosom area. Since that could not be avoided no thanks to fufu, the least I could do was to minimise my food intake so as to minimise the bulge. Portion control, Ishi, portion control.

I ate, washed up and took my bath. Bath time was severe torture because of the sand flies. My 'bathroom' was located outside my mud hut, and I shared it with several bachelor neighbours and Egi Momoh. It was an open shed built with raffia palms and had no door. When you wanted to bath, you simply hung your towel or wrapper at the entrance and that was it. God help you a particularly strong gust of wind blew away your 'door'. You are on own.

The sandflies ministered to every area of my anatomy, save for that area where the sun NEVER shone on. And I am not talking about the bosom,tummy or butt for that matter. Yes that's right, THAT area. By the time I fled into my room, everywhere itched and smarted. I usually take my time when bathing,scrubbing all the 'scrubbables' and washing all 'washables'. However this time, I was in and out of the bathroom in less than five- a record that can be attested to by those familiar with my personal hygiene routine. In my haste to flee, when I was almost at my doorstep I slipped on a wet patch of mud and went sprawling sideways, hip first to the ground like a kid learning how to walk. 'Kid', as in baby goat. . .

How I managed not to break my bucket still mystifies me till this day. Buzz Lightyear in 'Toy Story' will call it "falling. . .with style".

I managed to gather myself together and rose painfully. An idea formed in my head even while I was still in the process of rising. When I was on my feet, I looked left, looked right, limped to Boda Akeem's (my bachelor neighbour) door and after another cautious glance around, I, faster than than the speed of sound, transferred the water in his big bucket into mine. This done, I painfully strolled back to the bathroom where I endured another tortuous five minutes.

Back in my room, I discarded my soiled wrapper and stared at my itching and smarting body. I wondered if it was a premonition. Bah, it can't be, I thought and perished the thought.

I creamed and powdered my skin and wore the attire I had chosen for my date. My 'segzy' jeans, a spotted brown cotton shirt, dangling gold hoops on my ears ( well, they weren't real gold. They were of the variety the Yorubas call 'kpanda' ) and my trusty block heeled sandals.

Ahhhh, now time for make up. Wow, this make up session ought to be interesting. I started with my eyelids, moved to my eyelashes and nearly stabbed my eyes out with the mascara brush. That done, I moved to my eyebrows. Drat, my eyebrows needed trimming. They were so bushy I could plait 'kpatewo and base' with them, or even 'Bob Marley' sef. How could I have let them grow so thick?? Mschewww . Well whatever, I could try make them look like T.Y Bello's, and try I did. Whether I succeeded or not is a matter for heated debate.

I moved to my lips and did 'a few things' with them. When I was finished, I powdered my face again. I set down the hand mirror on the floor where I sat, took a deep breath and picked it up again to examine my 'artwork'.

Hmmmm. . . Let me see now. . . The eyelids are a shade too wine. . . Wine goes with brown, right? I was wearing a brown shirt so I figured wine coloured eye shadow would match. Just tone it down a bit. . .ah, yes!

The eyelashes are a-okay! I have rather pretty lashes if I may say so myself.

I took one look at 'The Great Forest of Idumagbo' that were my eyebrows and quickly looked away. No remedying THAT .
I briefly wondered if I looked a teeny little bit like Chairman. . .

Chairman!! I had completely forgotten about him! . I wondered if he was still waiting where I left him. I felt a tiny pang of guilt for deceiving the old man and abandoning him by the road side, because the Good Book after all exhorts us to respect our elders. I however squashed the guilt because how can one respect an elder who wouldn't respect himself?

I dismissed my aged admirer from my thoughts and focused on other important matters, like my face. My eyes moved to my lips and . . .

Good heavens my lips looked overly meaty!!!! No, this will not do! I wiped off the goo on my lips and applied plain lip gloss.

Ah, that's more like it.

I laid aside the mirror and picked up Mein Kpalasa to check the time. It was a few minutes to 2.pm. Still time for one more adjustment. I got up from the bed where I had sat to apply my make up and noticed my bosoms were misaligned. One boob faced north, the other faced east.

Blast this 'omo na bouncing bra'!! . I unhooked the bra and was in the process of re-stuffing my corpulent bosoms into the bra when my phone rang.

Cradling my bosoms in one hand, I picked up the phone from the floor where it lay face down.

My date was calling.

LMAO!! Did I write this?? Fucking hilarious!!

Ishilove:


I was already relaxed and beginning to feel sleepy when he suddenly asked me if my bosoms were firm or droopy.

I was startled back to alertness.

I cautiously asked him why he wanted to know.

He said my boobs were harassing him and calling him names and he wanted badly to tame them. He wanted to show them who the boss was, so would I be a good little girl and take off my bra let him give them a stern warning? He said these with a very straight face.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. .

ROTFL!!

Ishilove:
"Baby, I said come here and relax with me. Or are you shy?". His voice snapped me back to reality. Reality being that I was about to be impaled by a suspiciously big masculine tool. He was staring at me intently, mentally undressing me and ravishing my young body. The fire in his eyes made me uncomfortably aware of my own vulnerabilty, and this for some strange reason. . .excited me.

". . .I do not understand my own actions. . .that which I hate I find myself doing it. . . Woe is me".

There is a vixen locked in every woman. A purring, sensual cat just waiting to come out. The right circumstance can unleash it. I felt my inner feline shake its tail and go "meeow. . .".

My mouth suddenly felt dry. I smiled awkwardly at him, fidgeted and swallowed hard. I could taste the after flavour of the sumptous meal I just had with my host. My eyes scanned the dining area and zeroed in on the nearly empty bottle of Eva table water. Yes, escape. . .

"O please," I breathlessly said, "I am very okay here jor". I quickly got up from the chair and pounced on the Eva water. I gulped down the contents before turning to him.

I smiled and casually asked for the tv remote. Wordlessly, he pointed to where it lay beside the hotel extension. I picked it up and switched on the television. His eyes were following my every move. I am sure he had been wondering what game I was playing. Truth be told, I wasn't playing any game. I was trying to buy time to gather my thoughts and get myself together. My own lustful reaction to the Honourable's probing gaze both shocked and embarrassed me and I was trying to quell any iniquitous thought that would make me let my guard down.

I absent mindedly flipped through the channels before stopping at a movie channel. A teen high school musical was showing. I was trying to adjust the volume of the tv when he spoke up again.

"I don't know about you, but baby, I need a drink", he declared. "Let me order for us". I let him order for us without even bothering to listen to what he ordered for.

When room service brought in our drinks, guess what mine was? Nope, you guessed wrong.

Smirnoff Ice. 5.5% alcohol

I took one look at the frosty bottle of my favourite drink and flatly stated, ". . .(his name), I told you I don't take alcohol."

Ladies, I have said it before and I will say it again, never EVER take alcohol when you are with a man who is neither you husband nor blood relative. It will make you lower your inhibitions and compromise your defenses. Alcohol was the last thing I needed flowing in my blood stream in this situation.

I stoutly refused to take the drink, even though that perverse part of me was clamouring for just a sip. Yes, just a teeny weeny sip. . .

Anyway, while he nursed his chilled bottle of stout, I nursed my fears and anxieties. I was wondering the day would pan out. It was already getting late and I had a sneaky suspicion that this man would ask me to spend the night with him. I was worried about how I would get home to Wasimi because in my hurry to leave, I had forgotten to bring along 'vex money'. Vex money, aka emergency money, is the money girls bring along with them when they go on dates. Perchance their dates bleeped up, they wouldn't be at the mercy of the men and they could use the money to clear themselves.

Vex money. Today of all days I forgot to bring it.

He spoke up again.

"Baby you are beginning to annoy me", he complained.

"How?", I enquired.

"You are being such a prude", he replied.

I chuckled nervously and asked "how?", yet again.

"Are you asking me how? When you have refused coming to sit with me. Or do you think I am going to r.ape you??".

I considered my options. Not many. Okay then, bottoms up!

I smiled and got up from the chair. With a few steps I crossed the self imposed gap between Honourable and I. I gingerly sat beside him. The mattress was very firm.

Wow this is serious, I thought, my heart pounding like I had just run a marathon.

"Ehen, did that kill you?", he gushed.

No sir, but you might, thought I, grimly.

To my surprise he didn't try to act funny. He started talking about Nigeria's abysmal performance in the world cup, the corruption in the sports ministry and so and so forth.

I was already relaxed and beginning to feel sleepy when he suddenly asked me if my bosoms were firm or droopy.

I was startled back to alertness.

I cautiously asked him why he wanted to know.

He said my boobs were harassing him and calling him names and he wanted badly to tame them. He wanted to show them who the boss was, so would I be a good little girl and take off my bra let him give them a stern warning? He said these with a very straight face.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. .

This reads like something the 2015 version of me will say.

ShaqFu:
This reads like something the 2015 version of me will say.

And what will the 2022 version of you say?

Ishilove:

And what will the 2022 version of you say?

I'll rather tell you that in person.

ShaqFu:
I'll rather tell you that in person.

You are not serious