Jazz Freak:

Correct NaijaBabe, Abeg show directions on how to reach Tunde Leye's write-up.
Since Isi refuse to update , let me past-time with Tunla's gist.

Isi... gradually, you dey lose customers bi dat ooO !

http://bloggers.com.ng/author/tunde-leye/


Finding Hubby. Episodes 1-24, the series is finished so no suspense for you

Ishilove, I yam SMH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks...

I am going to drag Miz Muse from the marketplace and beat her into submission. .

A new update at noon,tomorrow, ex-corper's honour

Ishilove: I am going to drag Miz Muse from the marketplace and beat her into submission. .

A new update at noon,tomorrow, ex-corper's honour

At last!!!

"O for goodness sakes,sir!!" I howled in utter vexation, "will you just fuccking stop this joke??" I had regressed to using impolite four letter words. He didn't respond but continued wheezing. Goodness me, perhaps he wasn't acting.

As Schwartzeneggar famously said in one of his movies, "O boy,I'm f**ked!" .

***REWIND, SEVERAL DAYS EARLIER***

I was resting in the staffroom during breaktime when my phone rang. I already knew who it was even before I picked my phone to answer the call.

"Hello sir, goodmorning sir", I greeted my caller warmly.

"Ajuwaya!" Honourable boomed into my ears. I could just imagine him grinning as he was speaking.

"Thanks for the other day, sir," I said.

"That was nothing, my dear. By the time I am done with you, you will be head and shoulders above your peers." He replied. Those were his exact words.

Something shifted inside me. What was I doing? Why was I giving audience to this man? It was very obvious what he wanted from me, yet I was still giving him audience. We chatted for a while, then he invited me for another date. I was about to agree when I caught myself. What was I doing?? I decided in that very instant to decline his offer.

When I opened my mouth to speak, what came out of my mouth was "lemme check my schedule and get back to you".



Honourable urged me to get back to him asap so that he would know how to schedule the rest of his day, then he dropped the call. I gently set my phone down on my disorganised table strewn with files, textbooks, notes, papers and pens. Slowly, without even noticing what I was doing, I began to arrange and move objects around the table. I did this because in trying to restore order to my table, I was unconsciously trying to re-order my confused thoughts.

Round and round I moved objects.

Round and round my thoughts spinned.

Another politician. Another middle-aged man. Another potential groper. Another "Chairman experience". Why,o why did I always attract these kind of men?? Why were they always drawn to me? My mother's warning came back to me. " Ishi, don't let anybody 'foolish' you. If they 'foolish' you and you bring back 'big problem', you will carry it alone".

Ah, yes, the Honourable wanted to 'foolish' me, and instead of blowing him off like I normally do with all those over-sexed young men that came my way, I was actually contemplating giving him audience. I was appalled.

The objects on my table knew no peace. I noticed I needed a wet rag to wipe some off the stubborn stains on the surface. How like my heart this table is, I mused. Scattered and filthy, badly in need of redemption.

So do you want to go back after school is over to your dismal mud hut and sitdown watching cars go by? Do you want to sit down alone in the dark, listening to JP and Azeez pull Akeem's legs? Do you want to listen to the farmers talk about their latest exploits in the field of cocoa farming? Do you want to lie down in your room for hours on end listening to the cockroaches and lizards playing on the ceiling? Do you?

Then I thought of the crisp, minty 1000naira notes safely hidden in plain sight in my jungle boots.

My agitated hands began to slow down.

I am not a cheap girl and I will not allow money to abandon my scruples. I will not be blinded by materialism, neither will I give heed to my wicked, carnal desires.

My thoughts, like dry leaves, floated down. . .down. . . and settled somewhere in my stomach. . .

My hands stilled. I stared down at my table. It still looked like a tornado had passed over it. I gave a mental shrug, picked up my phone which was lying dangerously close to the edge of the table and dialled the Honourable's number. . .

I just stumbled on this thread
Good news is it's only 8 pages so I'll catch up quickly! Woo hoo!

ijebabe: I just stumbled on this thread
Good news is it's only 8 pages so I'll catch up quickly! Woo hoo!

You've missed out on 8 pages of fun

Ishilove:
You've missed out on 8 pages of fun

I fully intend to capture those fun moments, love

Ishilove:

hey! What happened in that wooing challenge na? You were not wooed o! Anyway, it has ended but please pick me in the ladies version ya? I go gree sharp sharp!
Nice write up today. I've searched for that 'finding hubby' thingy courtesy of you. Hey,PM me na. I'm feeling you o. For real. . .

brokoto: hey! What happened in that wooing challenge na? You were not wooed o! Anyway, it has ended but please pick me in the ladies version ya? I go gree sharp sharp!
Nice write up today. I've searched for that 'finding hubby' thingy courtesy of you. Hey,PM me na. I'm feeling you o. For real. . .

Thanks. I will pick you sharpaly too

semid4lyfe: Hmmm. . . .you were really swimming in "maya" before you got introduced to M _ _

'Man'?

Yay!!! Update but too little

naijababe: Yay!!! Update but too little

I updated it while attending to about a gazillion children at a time. I operate best in a serene environment devoid of distractions. Later in the week I promise to give you a much longer narration. Promise

Thanks hon. Wished it was longer. But I saw your explanation. Will look out for the longer. Still sizzling though

semid4lyfe:

Promise and Failure = SIN. I'll hold you to your words

Hold tight,bebe!

Ihedinobi: Thanks hon. Wished it was longer. But I saw your explanation. Will look out for the longer. Still sizzling though

Thanks for understanding, dear.

Well I can honestly say I enjoyed all 9 pages of this thread.

Please update more often love, you are really talented

hey ma'am. i just finished reading all episodes of that 'finding hubby'. it was really captivating. i finished them all in two sittings, all 24 episodes. anyway, i think you are as talented as that dude, Tunde Leye if not more. but my wahala with you is that you procrastinate too much. maybe its writers' block? anyway more sand paper to ya brain and please come back here and finish this ya chronicle o!
see e-you later by 7pm today. pls can you ask them to move up our slot? i have Chelsea match to watch by 7.45pm o. cheers

Ishilove:
Thanks for understanding, dear.

I am peeping at this understanding ooO !
Isi, kindly understand as well, we all find you an excellent writer;
held us spellbound & second-guessing on what happens next, only for you to update bi-annually... comon !
You wan kill persin with anxiety ...
Okay, make I bribe you with small eulogy so your head go swell well well
"the fair maiden of Wasimi
her beauty radiates life in perfect splendor
her unique disposition attracts roaches, reptiles & all fauna of Wasimi.
she so gorgeous all chairmen adores her as a chairlady
the Kopashun extraordinaire.... the this of that...."

Let me stop for now.... my head is swollen too , you're too much.

Jazz Freak:

I am peeping at this understanding ooO !
Isi, kindly understand as well, we all find you an excellent writer;
held us spellbound & second-guessing on what happens next, only for you to update bi-annually... comon !
You wan kill persin with anxiety ...
Okay, make I bribe you with small eulogy so your head go swell well well
"the fair maiden of Wasimi
her beauty radiates life in perfect splendor
her unique disposition attracts roaches, reptiles & all fauna of Wasimi.
she so gorgeous all chairmen adores her as a chairlady
the Kopashun extraordinaire.... the this of that...."

Let me stop for now.... my head is swollen too , you're too much.

Hahahahhhaaaa!! Yeye

Thanks for the eulogy. My greatest challenge is time. I have so little of it these days.

Another thing is this narration is a mini-autobiography of my service days, and thus if I update too frequently I will soon run out of things to write about. Asides my MANY brushes with the menfolk, not much happened to me. My service year was one long merry-go-round of near misses and endless propositions from lust crazed men, so much so that I wondered if perhaps it was my time to marry. I have heard that that time of a girls life when she is being wooed left, right and centre is the time to select her suitor and get hitched. What stopped me from accepting was my strong Christian background and the fact that 80% of them wanted to ravish my young, luscious body. The remaining 20% were either too broke asss, too catholic, too Yoruba-ish, too Igbotic, too young, too old, or too attached to Ondo for me to consider their proposals seriously .

Be that as it may, I am writing about the experiences that stand out in my memory. These outstanding experiences are few, so I am trying to make them last as long as possible. Either that or I start making up stories to hold everyone's attention. Since I am trying to be as honest as possible, with the barest minimal embellishments, I will eschew the latter and stick to the former. Please bear with me and stay for the ride

brokoto: hey ma'am. i just finished reading all episodes of that 'finding hubby'. it was really captivating. i finished them all in two sittings, all 24 episodes. anyway, i think you are as talented as that dude, Tunde Leye if not more. but my wahala with you is that you procrastinate too much. maybe its writers' block? anyway more sand paper to ya brain and please come back here and finish this ya chronicle o!
see e-you later by 7pm today. pls can you ask them to move up our slot? i have Chelsea match to watch by 7.45pm o. cheers

Let 7 be 7 ...

Ishilove:
Hahahahhhaaaa!! Yeye

My service year was one long merry-go-round of near misses and endless propositions from lust crazed men, 80% of them wanted to ravish my young, luscious body. The remaining 20% were either too broke asss, too catholic, too Yoruba-ish, too Igbotic, too young, too old, or too attached to Ondo for me to consider their proposals seriously

You have again tickled my belu belu (Uvula) .
Deduced from your response, you now owe your esteem audience 7 full-fledged write-ups;
one for each class of men mentioned above ... particularly the too old.
Would make an interesting read on how they fooled themselves whilst trying to jump your skirt.

Your honest & sincere narration is well appreciated, that's why yours is more refreshing compared to ...

He picked up on the first ring. Almost as if he had been expecting my call.

"So what time will it be?", he enquired.

"6 pm, sir", I calmly answered.

"When are you going to stop calling me 'sir' ", he complained, "I want to make you my very special friend so it is high time you started treating me as a friend. Or aren't we friends?"

O spare me the sermon, lecher!

"We are friends o. Okay, I will call you . . . (I mentioned his first name). How about that?"

"Ehen, that's better", he declared, sounding very pleased.

Why wouldn't he sound pleased, when in a few hours he was likely going to be having a fresh young thing for dinner??

O he had me for dinner quite alright. And no, thou filthy minded reader, he didn't 'have' me in the biblical sense of the word. Rather, he had me accompany him to a really classy hotel somewhere in the middle of Akure where we had ourselves quite a jolly time.

That afternoon after school, I vividly recall wanting to look extra good for my date with my middle-aged 'friend'. When I got to my room, I had another battle with my door, jamming and re-jamming the door in an effort to shut it tight in order to avoid any unwanted intrusion. A student or a farmer could come to 'greet' Aunty Corper, and I wasn't in the mood for 'greetings'. Selecting clothes for a date was serious business and I didn't want any disturbance. I was able to successfully jam the door shut after almost crushing my fingers in the process. This done, I flung my knock- about bag somewhere into the dark recesses of my room and headed straight for my suitcase of clothes.

I dragged my suitcase into the centre of the room. The case was dusty and to my utter horror, had become home to some miniature life forms. i.e, baby cockaroaches. . .

Now I harbour a pathological hatred for cockroaches, especially those flying ones that land on one's hair and bare skin and leaves one shrieking in a sickening state of terror and disgust . These baby cockroaches frantically scrabbling around beneath my baleful glare had the potential to metamorphose into those little flying monstrosities I so completely abhorred, so I set about annihilating them with more gleeful force than was necessary. This done, I set aside my broom and slippers and earnestly began sorting through my sparse collection of clothes.

Mmmm, no, too faded!

Uhn uhn, not this one. Makes my butt look flatter than usual...

Ahhh, my favourite. This one should be just right. Let me try it on...

I was shocked when the jean trousers couldn't zip properly. Hmm, it seemed I'd have to cut down on Iya Onifufu's fragrant fufu. I didn't eat chocolates, cake and all that junk girls are so fond of, so fufu must be the culprit behind my weight gain. I discarded the jeans and moved to the next item of clothing. By the time I was halfway through, I was sweating profusely. I got up to open my door to let some fresh air in and I had barely settled down on the floor beside my dusty suitcase when someone shook the door curtains.

"Ishi love-ey", called JP from the other side of the curtain.

"JP, how far na?", I replied sourly from amidst my small heap of clothes on the floor. The discovery of my weight gain had soured my mood because it meant I was unable to wear my favourite jeans. This jean brought out my hips, gave my plywood butt an illusion of rotundity and generally looked downright sexy. I had stumbled on it in a shop in the famous Emmab plaza in Balogun market and I rarely wore it because I wanted to preserve its shelf life, but now, no thanks to my great fondness of fufu, it seemed it would have to go back into storage. Blast!

"Ishi, make I enter?", John asked.

"No o, I'm na.ked!!", I answered.

"Na.ked ke??", shouted John," I must enter, I say must enter the place!", and he started shaking the curtains vigorously. We burst into laughter, just as he peeped into the room before entering. We often went through this charade ever since the day Nedu, a batch B corper who passed out shortly after I arrived Wasimi, one cool evening barged into my room without knocking and beheld me in my butt na.ked glory. My miserable excuse for a door could not be bolted from inside so he had just walked in just as I dropped my battered yellow towel on the bed at my feet haven just finished bathing.

Nedu had gaped at me in my glistening nu.dity in total shock for about five seconds before covering his eyes and exiting the room in a great hurry. I was too shocked to be embarassed, and although he swears till this day that the image of my beautiful body still gives him nightmares, I know he means the exact opposite.

Since that day the other guys took exaggerated care when entering my room, but JP turned the whole thing to a charade which I hilariously joined him in. When he saw me on the floor with my clothes around me, he asked me what mischief I was up to, to which I glibly lied I was sorting my clothes for laundry. He believed me, abandoned his questions and invited me for a candlelight dinner. This was another joke between us because the so-called candlelight dinner was exactly what it was: dinner by candlelight, sans romantic atmosphere, plus mosquitoes and the sounds of rumbling generators and passing vehicles. The menu was Iya Esther's finely moulded pounded yam and vegetable soup with fresh fish. Azeez would be joining us for dinner.

Well, well, well, I mused, isn't this my lucky evening??

However,I gave vague excuses, citing my weight and distrust of Iya Esther's spiritual state as reasons for declining his invitation. I told him that perhaps the woman washed her netherparts and used the water to cook for the boys, that was why they loved her cooking so much . He goodnaturedly accepted my excuses and left me alone.

JP. Such a sweet guy .

Eventually, I was forced to settle on my over-tight jeans because all my other trousers just didn't feel right. I would have to wear my tight trousers. Either that or my flowing ankara skirt and blouse. Goodness me, I wasn't going to church, I was going on a date!!

I chose a pretty baby pink shirt with tiny ruffles in the front to go with my sexy jeans and my trusty block heel sandals. I must not forget the black hand bag I used for the rare special outings...Wikkid! I was going to look so fiiiiine and hawt!!!

After cleaning up and bathing, I settled down to the delicate business of making up my face. Now folks, I am a homely girl and make-up has never been my thing. Whenever you see gIshi baby beautifully made up, do not be deceived, it is not my handiwork. Someone somewhere has gotten fed up with my 'dry' face and decided to spice it up a bit. Whenever I try to makeup, my face ends up looking like the artwork of an over-eager six year old.

I was able to do 'one or two things' with my face. My eyelids were a bit too orange, my lips too brown, but I consoled myself that it was 'night make-up' so it didn't matter. . I don't know why I even bother. Mother says I am fine enough without slathering goo on my face but I just won't listen!

I squeezed my considerable form into my jeans, wrestled with the zip and used every muscle in my body to clip the waist band . . . .

Okay let me stop exaggerating . Though I struggled to button the trousers, it wasn't however as uncomfortably tight as I initially feared. I brushed my hair, brused the dandruff flakes from my shirt and shod my feet in my block heeled sandals. With the sandals, I stood at an 'impressive' 5 ft 7in.

Dear reader, do not be fooled when you see this tall, statuesque young woman. She is wearing high-heeled shoes. Mum says I went AWOL the day our Heavenly Father was handing out portions of tallness .

I spritzed on a potent cocktail mixture of perfumes and body sprays ( I am a perfume freak).

Spfff!, my wrists.

Spfff!, my cleavage.

Spffff!, behind my ears and the hollow of my throat.

Spfffffffffffff!!!, all over my body, beibay! Woohoo!!

I looked into the mirror and pouted. O yeah...,magnifico! Ishi, you're just too sexy for your own good .

Finally, I was ready. Not wanting to mess up my clothes and hair, I delicately sat down in my lone white plastic chair, the one whose bottom housed my bag of cement and polythene bags. The waist band of my over-tight jeans dug deep into my belly but I ignored the discomfort.

Now to wait for my date...

Hmmmmm I'm so loving this write up but wat happend 2 ur keyboard Ishi? Continue na ...oh I 4got u r waitin 4 ur date ....I guess its tym 4 us 2 wait 4 ur post-date

Wish Her A Happy Birthday Here------>https://www.nairaland.com/1064664/happy-birthday-ishilove#12413546

Thank you so much Cuddlemii, I am very touched