Ha! Ishi, why hast thou forsaken us? Is all well? Its been 7days, 14hours and 50mins. Just saying

This is a link to the Iyawo Nylon Bag Gist Thread. https://www.nairaland.com/1272634/iyawo-nylon-bag-gist-thread

This gist thread is for observations, criticism and discussion about the story "Iyawo Nylon Bag". It has been created to avoid clogging up this thread, making the story difficult to follow for new readers and most especially to avoid posters getting banned for posting off-topic comments.

So come one, come all. Come and gist to your heart's content.

*Singing In Flavour's voice..* Ishi-Baby.. For So Long we've been waiting, for u lady, for so long we've been waiting.. So tell us, when its gonna be... When are u coming to write for us... ? Are u coming in June or July...? Or do we have to wait till November or December... Ishi-Baby!!


Make u no vex ohh.. Its been long since any update, so I say make i croon this lullaby to u, make u shake body 4 d thread.

Santi222: *Singing In Flavour's voice..* Ishi-Baby.. For So Long we've been waiting, for u lady, for so long we've been waiting.. So tell us, when its gonna be... When are u coming to write for us... ? Are u coming in June or July...? Or do we have to wait till November or December... Ishi-Baby!!


Make u no vex ohh.. Its been long since any update, so I say make i croon this lullaby to u, make u shake body 4 d thread.

Please post comments like this on the gist thread. https://www.nairaland.com/1272634/iyawo-nylon-bag-gist-thread

Where IS̤̈̊ Ishilove?

lakeside4love: Where IS̤̈̊ Ishilove?

She's over here: https://www.nairaland.com/1272634/iyawo-nylon-bag-gist-thread

E be like say we don enter one chance. This one wey ishi no gree update again.

Please visit this thread to find out the latest https://www.nairaland.com/1272634/iyawo-nylon-bag-gist-thread

“I can hardly wait for the day when I will write my final paper and leave this fuccking school, mehn. I’ve been jacking since morning and nothing has been entering.”

“What time did you get here?”

“Omo ehn, I have been here since 6.30 am.”

‘Here’ was the UNILAG waterfront, popularly called ‘Lagoon Front’ by the students. Designed like a waterfront park, with tall shady trees and stone benches where people can sit. Students often go there to relax, meditate and read, depending on the period of the semester. From the shoreline one can get a good view of the Third Mainland Bridge which runs over the lagoon from Lagos Island to Oworonshoki. In the early nineties, the lagoon front was known as ‘Love Garden’ because at night, it was the venue for more dubious purposes pertaining to the baser natures of humans. Many an entwined bodies had found themselves rudely pinned under the glaring lights of powerful flashlights, while a disgusted voice barked “Hey, two of you, don’t move!!” Of course the opposite would be the case as the couple would take off, leaving behind articles of clothing; panties here, a boxer there. There was even a case where the identity of a lover boy was established because in the rush to be gone, the young man had left behind his boxers which had his name monogrammed in bold letters. Unfortunately for the young lover, he was a popular fellow on campus, so he was easily traced to his hall of residence, unceremoniously whisked away in the infamous UNILAG ‘Black Maria’ and taken to the security post where he spent a couple of hours answering some very embarrassing questions. The high incidences of cases like this made the university authorities fix security lights there, and while this discouraged the hormone driven students, it encouraged the ‘acada’ insomniacs who converted the lagoon front to a mini library which they used as venues for overnight prep on a near daily basis. However, this came to an abrupt halt when a student ran shrieking from the waterfront one quiet, moonlit night. In between maniacal howls of terror, it was established that he had seen a woman with three breasts emerging from the water. Whether this was true or not, no one ever found out, but the occurrence was enough to discourage students from venturing to the UNILAG waterfront after daylight.

It was exam season, and preparations for the forthcoming second semester exams were in full gear, so the stone benches were fully occupied by students who were swotting, or pretending to swot, like Chilo’s friend George who had been trying assimilate since 6.30am.

“Eh ehn, you’ve been here since 6.30 in the morning? Na you wan finish all the available A’s in Ofuafo, ba? I must sit beside you o.”

This statement was made by Deborah. The main library, as well as the other libraries and the popular Akintunde Ojo library which was built very close to the lagoon’s edge were filled to overflowing, so the next bet had been the lagoon front. She and Chilo had searched in vain for an unoccupied bench to sit on to begin revising for their first paper which would be starting in three days’ time, when they ran into George, hunched over some hand outs and ‘forming reading’, to use Deborah’s words. Now they were seated beside him after Chilo unceremoniously swept the books and papers on the bench unto the grassy earth. George was an easy-going guy who was a favourite among the females in the department because of his laid back attitude to life and sense of humour which was out of this world. He had asked Chilo out back in 200 level, and though she politely declined his offer, he still insisted they remain friends despite it all.

“Ofuafo fire. I was reading Isibor” he said, sounding very bored.

The students often called their courses by the names of the lecturers who taught them. Ofuafo was the bespectacled, easy-going lecturer who taught African Arts and History, while Isibor was their dragon lady lecturer in Movement and Dance.

“I heard everybody don form their voltron finish” Chilo chipped in.

The term ‘forming voltron’ was a tribute to the hugely popular eighties Japanese sci-fi cartoon about an alien robot made up five robot lions controlled by young space explorers that morphed together in hyperspace, to form a mega robot who fought off all manner of allied monstrosities that happened to saunter out of space and take unhealthy interest in Mother Earth and the rest of the planets in the galaxy. Forming voltron in the exam hall meant a group of people with similar goals of 'giraffing' sat together in a pre-arranged section of the hall in order to facilitate free flow of information amongst the giraffes.

“Before nko?” Deborah quipped. “Me sef I’m finding who to form voltron with.”

“No go form voltron with someone who will write OP. The both of you go score the same zero.” George remarked dryly.

Deborah gave him her best ‘come hither’ look and smiled invitingly. “Come, guy, let me, you and Chilo form our own nau. I will make it worth your while”, she said suggestively.

George grinned mischievously, saying “Debbie, you cannot handle me o”.

Deborah snorted. ”You get mouth sha. You with your small thing. Na who you wan handle?”

“Debbie!” Chilo exclaimed, before bursting into laughter. Deborah could be very foul mouthed when she set her mind on it. This was one of such days.

George was used to her antics, so he merely grinned before replying. “How you take know? A trial will convince you, anyways.”

“George puhleeze! The bigger the better, baby.” She retorted, smirking.

"Don't be fooled, Deb, it ain't the size of the boat that matters; what is important is how well the boat cann rock the motion of the motion, you dig?"

"Bah! That saying was propagated by men with small . . ."

"Debbie! Na wa for you o. You need a sanctification of your mind and a renewal of your spirit man" Chilo cut in, exasperated.

“So I have been told." Deborah declared airily, bent on mischief. "Besides, I heard that you can judge the size of a man’s ‘thing’ by the size of his fingers.” she added.

Automatically all three looked down at the George’s hands clutching a sheaf of papers. His fingernails were clean and well maintained, but the fingers were slim and a bit on the stubby side.

Chilo immediately started giggling. George smiled in embarrassment and quickly tucked his hands away into his jean pockets.

“Deb, you are a pervert! So you go around studying men’s fingers, abi?” he asked in consternation. Deborah brayed laughter.

A couple of students sitting a few yards from them looked up from their text books and glared at them pointedly.

“You dey there dey make mouth. I heard that you can judge the size of a woman’s coochie from the size of her lips” he said peevishly.

The two girls gasped simultaneously.

George, his good mood restored, wouldn’t let it go at that.

“Debbie, see as your lips thin. You know what that means na”. He was leering by now. Deborah clamped her lips together. He turned to Chilo. Chilo had full lips.

“Chilo wait make I see your mouth.” He said, leaning closer to her.

“Abeg gerraway! My ears will not listen to iniquity” she retorted, seized by fits of giggles and trying to turn her face away from his line of sight.

“O boy ehhh, see big lips!!” he exclaimed in mock amazement.

All three dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. The other students around them were by now shooting baleful glances their way.

“Ujiji, dem go soon gather us beat shege comot from our body o” Deborah managed to wheeze out between bouts of mirth.

“Okay, you know what? Let's go for a canoe ride. Abeg I wan relax my brain, na since morning I bin dey stress am.” Greg said when they had finally regsined control of themselves.

“Oya na, les go there. But you go spons us o.” Chilo jibed.

“No wahala. Dis na bigger boiz levels.”

“For your mind.”

They got up, left their books on the bench to reserve it and made their way to the waterfront shoreline. Ignoring the daggers the other students present threw their way, they cheerfully chatted at the top of their voices as they manoeuvred their way between the concrete benches and stone tables.

Ilaje fishermen from the neighbouring Bariga were always around with their canoes and they hired it out to students who wanted to take a cruise around the lagoon. Business had been slow since the start of the exam season because leisure had taken a back seat, so Chilo and her friends had the luxury of choice in their selection of a canoe, unlike other times when one had to wait for several minutes before a canoe could be sighted, not to mention hired.

George paid the fare and they climbed in. As the canoe smoothly glided away from the shore, Chilo leaned over and let her fingers run through the cool, opaque water.

“Careful there, don’t lean too much” Deborah warned. “You will overbalance the canoe”

“And what if it does? Hm? Water is an element of creation.”

“Abeg let it be an element for you. As for me, I neva marry and I neva born, so you can like to wait for another time to establish contact with the elements.” Deborah said, sounding half amused, half alarmed.

“Marriage is not a ticket to heaven” Chilo said softly.

“You girls and marriage talk. Abeg lemme hear word jare” George stated, rolling his eyes comically.

“Ujiji, shut up.”

“Your fada nyash”

They chortled and fell silent, everybody lost in their own thoughts. The only sound that could be heard was the swishing of the waters as it was gently parted by paddles. It had a soothing effect, and she found herself relaxing. She watched the fisherman who was paddling the canoe. He had established a comfortable rhythm which pushed them farther away from the shoreline. He was young, under thirty. His face softly gleamed in the morning sun, and his muscles rippled gently under the discoloured tank top he wore. There was something about him, about the way he held his shoulders that reminded her of . . . Eric.

She groaned inwardly, leaned down again and restlessly ran her fingers through the water once again. It had been three weeks since he had disgracefully ditched her after using her. The memory was still raw, the wound still fresh and oozing. She had never felt as self-disgusted as she had felt the days that followed. Outwardly, she remained unchanged, smiling when she was supposed to and giving off the air of contented well-being. Inside, it was a different matter entirely. She was recoiling with shame and self-loathing. She had tried to call again a couple more times but he still hadn’t responded. Some days later, he had sealed everything with a Facebook update:

‘Off to Canada. Lord grant me journey mercies’

Chilo had heard of ‘use and dump’, but she had never imagined that she would be a victim. There was nobody to blame but herself, which made it all the more harder to stomach.

“Chi?” Deborah’s voice quietly cut into her painful musings.

She looked inquiringly at her friend in response.

“Gabriel bought me some provisions yesterday” she began.

Gabriel was Deborah’s boyfriend of six months. He seemed to be a nice guy by Chilo’s observations, but for some strange reason, Deb didn’t seem to be taking him seriously. She had often wondered why Deborah was still in the relationship.

“That’s nice. What did he buy?” she asked

She shrugged. “You know, provisions na. Milo and milk, indomie, tissue paper, detergent, packs of Irish Spring soap and all that.” Gabriel was the manager of a bakery somewhere in Ojuelegba. Going by what Deb told her, his salary was peanuts, so it meant he must have strained his pockets to get her the provisions: a testament to how much he cared for her.

“That is so nice of him.” Chilo remarked, smiling, feeling the tiniest pang of envy. “You don’t seem too pleased. What’s the problem?”

Deborah fidgeted and glanced uncomfortably at George. She didn’t have to worry about him, however. He was lost in a world of his own. His phone’s earpiece was firmly stuck in his ears and he was nodding his head to the beat of the song he was listening to. By the sound of it, it was a track from Tuface’s newly released album ‘Unstoppable’.

“Chi, to tell you the truth ehn, I am tired of the guy.”

Chilo raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

Deb looked her squarely in the face and asked: “Do you know that he masturbate’s?”

Chilo’s eyes widened. Well well well, who would have imagined that? Gabriel was the choral director in his church. He sang for God, for crying out loud! Secret sins seemed to be the order in religion, she thought, her mind reeling.

“It’s a lie!” Chilo exclaimed. ”How did you know?”

Deborah smiled a mirthless smile and replied “He told me himself.”

“He did??”

“Ya. He says he can’t help himself. He’s addicted. Every day, he locks himself inside the bathroom and uses a wet piece of foam and soap on himself.”

“Now that is so disgusting! How can you stand him after he told you that?” Chilo asked, revulsion clearly etched on her face.

Hypocrite. A dark, dry voiced whispered inside.

She silenced it and continued. “So why did he tell you?”

Deborah shrugged again. “He doesn’t want any secrets between us. At least that is what he claims.”

“Eyah. So what are you going to do?” Chilo asked sympathetically.

“I don’t know yet o, but at least I am happy that he isn’t trying to force me to sleep with him.” she admitted.

Despite her brazenness, Deborah was still a virgin. Or so she claimed. Chilo couldn’t trust anybody’s claim to virginity because she herself still proudly proclaimed her virginity to all and sundry. Nobody, save herself, her sexual partners and God were privy to the ugly truth.

“He tried some very nasty stuffs with me when I went to his place before exam started.” Deborah continued.

Chilo’s ear began to vibrate. “Nasty stuffs like what?”

Looking very embarrassed, Deb proceeded to describe how he had asked for anal sex since she didn’t want to sleep with him.

“I guess that is when I finally made up mind to just end the whole thing. I was irritated, shocked and completely turned off.” she concluded.

Chilo’s was dumbfounded. So Mr Prim and Proper was into kinky stuff? Well, you can never judge a book by its cover!

“Did you agree?”

“Of course not!” Deb exclaimed, looking thoroughly scandalised. “Don’t you trust me again?”

Chilo clapped her hands in wonder. “Hm! So then, why did you allow him buy you those stuffs since you know you will be breaking up with him?”

Deb grinned a very wicked grin and said, “You know me, might as well make use of him till the very end.”

“O baby, I trust you!” Chilo crowed, and they both cackled like two old women sharing a very private joke.

When their amusement ebbed away, they lapsed into contemplative silence.


*********
Swish, swish, swish, went the waters. Chilo looked around the lagoon. A few canoes bearing the children of fishermen glided by in the distance. A mild breeze kissed her skin and ruffled her tresses, lifting tendrils of her permed hair and playing with them. she could smell the salty air of the distant ocean. The atmosphere was so tranquil, the water, inviting. The peace and beauty inherent in nature can only be appreciated when one is in quietude, she mused.

The water lapped gently at the side of the canoe. She wondered what it would feel like to jump into the water and sink like a stone . . .down . . .down . . .down . . . to the bottom. . . All her sorrows would come to an end. Her self-loathing, her worries, her double standards, her never ceasing apprehensions over her financial and spiritual status would disappear.

She sighed deeply, still staring at the silver-brown surface of the water. She had read in a novel that death by drowning was very unpleasant. Your airways flooded with water that went straight to your brain; blood vessels burst, your eyes popped out and your anus bulged. She was sure the writer was exaggerating, but the prospect was very frightening. She’d rather lie peacefully in her bed and quietly expire than endure the tortuous process of drowning. Everything tormented her these days.

Her memories, her thoughts, her hypocrisy joined forces to convict her every single minute of the day. Emmanuel was in a corner haranguing her, and to her eternal shame, she had messed up again. After Eric, there had been another man. She had decided that Facebook was indeed the devil’s vehicle and had gone back to Prodigits. In just a few days, she had met a guy named Dark Lord. Dark Lord, whose real name was Tobechukwu, invited her to his place not too far from the main campus. He was very attractive, charming and fun to be with. He was also half-caste. His mum was German and his dad was from the eastern part of the country.

Everywhere in the flat bore traces of wealth that once was, but was no more. His dad was a retired NNPC official who had fallen on hard times and was now into contract based business to make ends meet.

She went to his apartment twice, and on the third date, there had been some heavy petting and the next thing she knew, sex happened. Senseless, boring, mechanical sex that left her puzzled and feeling emptier than ever. He had not even bothered undressing her, but had simply ripped her jeans and panties off and

Slam, jam, it’s over!!!

Under five minutes. The Eric debacle was just a few days past and here she was being used by another man. What was wrong with her? WHAT, REALLY, WAS WRONG WITH HER? Why was she so lacking in self-control? Dear God, did she have to open her legs for every man that came her way?

However, before the end of the following week, she had consigned Tobe to places that rhymed with ‘bell’, because she discovered that he was over-possessive, temperamental and threw childish tantrums like a shrewish woman on her period. He nagged and complained over little things, and the last straw had been when he sighted her in a youth fellowship on campus the previous Sunday. He had called her earlier in the morning, asking to know where she was going to attend service. She mentioned the name of a popular church in Sabo. He then rang off, promising to call back after service. However, a course mate invited her for the campus fellowship, and she allowed herself to be persuaded to attend.

During service, Tobe called her, but since she couldn’t hear him because of the blast of sounds from the speakers, she had cut the call. A few minutes later, a text message entered her phone. She opened the message was shocked by what she read.

I thought you said you will be in Sabo for service. I don’t know why you women are such bloody liars. B.ITCH.


Trembling with rage, with the deep voice of the preacher in the background, she hurriedly typed


You miserable excuse for a man, kindly stay away from me because it is obvious there is something wrong with you. Did it occur to you that my plans changed? STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU CRAZY BASTARD!!!!

And that was that. During praise and worship, the pastor asked everyone to dance round the church auditorium.

“The presence of God is in the place! Dance brethren, dance and shame the devil!!”

And dance she did. She had barely taken a few steps when she ran smack into him. Not the devil, no. It was his cousin, Tobe, in all his petulant glory. His face was scrunched up in a scowl that was almost comical in appearance. He pointedly stared through her, and she returned the favour. She dug her fingernails deeper into his nerves by ensuring she danced energetically where ever he could see her throughout their waltz round the auditorium, hallelujah!

Since then Dark Lord hadn’t called her and she couldn’t be bothered. She didn’t need a ho.rny cry baby to further complicate her already over-complicated life.

“See me as your brother” George cheerfully insisted alongside Tuface. “As your hypertek nigga!”

Chilo dragged herself out of the depressing depths of her thoughts and glanced at him. The canoe was making the last turn around the lagoon and soon they would be heading back to shore. George was seriously making minced meat of the track, snapping his fingers and rolling his feet.

“Ah ah ah, ey ah, ey, brother ey ey ey ey. See me as your brother, see me as your brotherrrrrrr, why don’t you see me as your nigga, as your hypertek nigga nigga nigga”

Deborah shifted forward, careful not to rock the canoe, and snatched the ear piece from his ears.

“Haba, George, if na so Tuface sing the song you for like am??” she queried.

He grinned a very toothy grin. “Na you get your mouth.”

“Sha let us hear word abeg, you are making our driver lose concentration.”

George looked up at the man rowing them and asked mischievously “bros, shey na true?”

The man merely smiled and continued effortlessly manoeuvring the canoe through sea weeds and floating debris.

They were heading back to the shore when her phone buzzed. A text message had come in.


Meet me in front of the Law Faculty, I’m waiting.

************

When they disembarked from the canoe, she mumbled some vague excuses to her friends and went to straight to the Faculty of Law. As she made her hurried way, different thoughts chased themselves about in her head like rambunctious puppies. What on earth did he want in school? He knew that exams were about to start so the last thing she needed was distractions.

His sensual lips curved in a smile and those ridiculously long lashed eyes swept over her as he watched her approaching.

“My babe, you’re looking good” he said, appreciation written all over his face.

“Emma, what is it? What do you want?” she snapped with irritation. God, how she loathed this thin creature before her.

“Is that your good morning? Na wa for you o” he responded, sounding genuinely hurt.

“Look, whatever. I was reading when you interrupted me”

“Okay I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you, that’s all. You know I miss you”, he crooned in that annoyingly sexy voice. “Let’s take a stroll and talk. I promise I won’t take much of your time. Hm?”

She looked into the depths of those dark eyes and said firmly “No, I don’t have time for any nonsense stroll.”

As she turned away to go, he caught her by the arm and pulled her back. That was what did her in. Immediately, he touched her, her resolve melted.

“Chichi, just a few minutes of your time, I promise”, he pleaded.

She grudgingly agreed, even though she had come with the intention of blowing him off and returning to her friends at the Lagoon front.

The few minutes turned out to be a few hours, because instead of the stroll round the campus, he took her to his friend’s one-room apartment in a decidedly rundown part of Bariga. The next three hours saw them engaged in the most frenetic mating session she had ever experienced, EVER.

Initially, she divorced her mind from what was going on, and when Emma noticed how cold and unresponsive she was, he disengaged himself and went to slot in a pornographic movie in the DVD player in the room. The weird thing was she wasn’t moved in any way. She watched with cold detachment the nude, writhing bodies on the screen performing varied acts of se.xual indignities on themselves, making a mockery of something that was made to be beautiful under the right circumstances and remained completely indifferent. It was hard to believe that she had once been addicted to these kinds of materials; it seemed a lifetime ago.

Tired of waiting for her to get aroused, he simply pounced on her and ruthlessly tore away at her insides for the next couple of hours. When she realised that time was not on her side, she forced herself into a toe curling, almost back breaking climax that left her immobile for close to ten minutes.

After she regained her senses and her strength, she dressed up without uttering another word to her ‘boyfriend’. He tried to break the icy silence that she had enclosed herself in, to no avail. Her mind was numb, her conscience, comatose. Her body tingled however and she felt sore in her nether parts.

Emmanuel gave up trying to communicate with her and together, they made their way to the bus stop where she boarded a bus back to school with nary a backward glance. As she was about to pass through the UNILAG main gate, an overpowering stench suddenly flooded her nostrils. Resisting the urge to spit violently, she hurried through the gates and boarded a cab back to main campus. The stench followed her into the cab and back to the lagoon front where her friends waited. Her conscience which had been silent unexpectedly began roaring.

Yes, the smell you perceive is the stench of your own corruption. How many men have there been? Two? Three? FOUR??

Not that many! She whispered fiercely at the red hot voice that just wouldn’t shut up.

But they will soon be, won’t they? You slut! You don’t even qualify as the average slut because you aren’t gaining anything financially or otherwise from all these rubbish you are doing. We don’t even know what that makes you . . . You dirty, stinking, hypocritical fornicator!!

In retrospect, what she smelt could have been the smell of manure from the flower beds that lined the walkways leading into the campus. Or it could have been something else . . .

Nonethelesse, at present, she felt ill to the pit of her stomach. Her head swam and her vision swayed. “Don’t judge me” she mumbled sickly, navigating the stone benches at the waterfront with legs that seemed just about ready to give out. “Don’t you dare judge me! I can’t help myself, but this will be the last time, I swear it.”

But it wasn’t the last time. No, it wasn’t. The next time was a lot worse than the previous ones. . .

Emmanuel called her one evening two weeks later. By this time second semester exams were already underway. She was in church for bible studies and was really deep into the lesson when his call came in. He asked her to come over to his school for a ‘brief chat’. She knew what was likely going to happen, but she felt totally powerless to resist him. Her crotch instantly caught fire; the soft places in her body became hard as she packed her bible and writing materials into her handbag with trembling hands.

“God, please help me, I am mad. . . I am walking out of Your House, in the middle of service to go and fornicate. I can’t help myself. Lord, please forgive me. This fire, dark fire, is burning me. I see him, I feel him, and I can’t control myself. Don’t let this fire scorch my soul and lead me to hell.”

She didn’t say the words out but her spirit screamed out in agony. She couldn’t believe that she was actually abandoning bible studies and the presence of God to wilfully go and commit sin. She couldn’t fathom it, but go, she must.

As she hurried down the aisle to the exit, she felt as if all eyes were on her. There seemed to be a sly knowingness in the ushers’ eyes in the way they stared at her as she walked out of the auditorium. As if they knew what she was up to. It was probably all in her imagination, but she couldn’t tell in her frenzied state.

Emmanuel met her at the entrance of the arts theatre, as arranged. Smiling, he opened his mouth to welcome her but she abruptly cut him off with “Save it! Let’s just get this over with.” He had the good grace to look embarrassed.

He led her to an empty classroom in the lecture block. Though there was an abundance of empty rooms because the college had closed for the session, he however chose the darkest. He spread the wrapper he had brought along on the floor for the occasion

(he seems to have come prepared for everything)

and lay on it, pulling her down with him. She found herself stripped of every article of clothing within seconds, and under ten minutes, it was over.

Her body vibrated with pleasure, but her mind quailed in horror.

What am I doing??

She hastily got up and began to dress, trying not to look at the pathetically thin figure lying on the floor, whose features she could barely make out in the darkness. Fresh waves of loathing washed over her being in surging tides.

“Where are you going? We are not done yet nau.”

She ignored him and searched for her handbag in the darkness. She finally found it, and as she picked the bag, something fell out and hit the dusty floor with a loud thud. Struggling with tears of hatred and shame, she cussed and scrabbled around the floor with hands that felt like blocks of ice. When she found it, the object turned to be her bible. Cringing, she stuffed it into her bag and stumbled blindly to the door.

“Chichi, at least wait let me dress up first.” her tormentor protested.

She didn’t respond, and couldn’t have even if she had wanted to. Her mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool. Chilo managed to open the door while Emmanuel was still trying to find his clothes and fled the building like the devil was on her heels. Perhaps he was; who knows?

She boarded a bike straight to the UNILAG main gate, and was fortunate enough to find an empty cab that dropped her at New Hall where her hall of residence was located. Managing to maintain a straight face, she hurried to her room. A casual observer would have perhaps given no more than a passing glance at the slim, attractive, fair complexioned figure with an almost eerily calm face making a beeline for her room.
However, closer observation of her eyes would have revealed a dark, thunderous storm silently brewing in its brown depths.

Chilo’s room was empty, her roommates dispersed in different parts of campus reading for their next papers. Crossing the tidy room to her wardrobe, she opened it and rummaged through the chaos that was the interior. Having found what she sought, she stripped completely.

Choking on a sob, she went on her knees and folded the object she held in her hand tightly.
She considered briefly what she was about to do, her mind a whirlpool of rioting thoughts. No, she had to.

“Mea culpa!” she cried in deep distress, and lashed out. Finally, the dam which had been threatening to give way since she fled the dark, dirty classroom burst. She wept as she gave herself hot lashes from the heavy leather belt she held tightly wound around her cold, cold hands. The belt was Andrew’s and he had been searching high and low for it. Chilo had even helped him turn the house upside down in their search for the beautiful brown coloured belt that had lain snugly in her wardrobe in school for weeks before its disappearance was noticed at home.

Do you think self-flagellation will help you? the dry voice whispered. Do you think you can do this on you own? Do you think THIS will change anything?

Chilo raised her hand and brought it down again. The pain assaulted her senses, but it wasn’t half as bad as the one that came from deep inside her soul. She tried so hard to be a good Christian, really, really hard to be a good child that her parents could be proud of, but the burden of the guilt of the secret life she lived was tearing her to pieces. She couldn’t remember the last time she prayed because she just couldn’t bring herself to ask God for anything when she knew her way wasn’t right with Him. She could do many things, but live without Him, she couldn’t. Why did this . . . obsession with illicit sex have such a wicked hold on her?

This fire, dark burning desire, will surely lead me down to the pits of hellfire.

She raised the belt and lashed her crotch a third time. Pain wracked her body and groaning, she bent down until her forehead touched the cool, cemented ground, the very image of bizarre genuflection. Thick, briny tears rapidly formed tiny pools where earth met skin.

Pain, shame, sorrow, despair struggled for pre-eminence, and she gave in to them as they came.

I can’t do this on my own. This is not ordinary. This cannot be, no it can’t. Enough is enough. I just can’t keep living like this. I am not a slut, no, I won’t accept it. I need help . . . O God, I need help . . . help me, please . . .

**********
She looked at the face of the man before her. He sat on a white, plastic chair opposite her, hands folded across his chest. He was looking at her expectantly.

He was fair complexioned, rather on the chubby side but very attractive nonetheless. She idly wondered if he was married; he was so distractingly attractive.

Blast it, you really ought to be ashamed of yourself! she thought in mortification.

Clearing her throat, she licked her lips and said in a voice which she could barely recognise as her own:

“Please sir, I think I need deliverance . . .”




THE END












OF PART ONE

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**hears his name, wakes up sees that it is just Ishi, goes back to bed**

Nice work though.

To be sincere, i'm very pissed off at the lack of self control chilo displays in the story! I was frowning as i read the story...
*sad*

P Beni: To be sincere, i'm very pissed off at the lack of self control chilo displays in the story! I was frowning as i read the story...
*sad*

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Really lagged behind, I am. From whence do I begin reading?

PART TWO BEGINS

The road was quiet, except for a few cars that occasionally passed by on their way to the in or out of the school. It wasn’t yet 7.00am, so the weather was still cool. Two girls walked along the road side. One was chubby and dark complexioned, the other was slim, fair and elegant in appearance and bearing. The fair one had a look of discomfort on her face and occasionally rubbed her stomach gingerly. A casual observer would notice that they were modestly dressed, their heads covered with head scarves. They looked like they were on their way to a church programme. And they were.

Chilo, after hemming and hawing, had given the minister she had gone to meet a highly watered down and sanitised version of her problems; things were not moving well with her and family, she was attracted to men and it made her do things that she wasn’t proud of. Things like what, the man had probed gently. Well, things like allowing men do ‘funny’ things to her, she answered, feeling very embarrassed. Efforts to pry out more information from her been futile, so the minister had advised her to come for the deliverance session as soon as possible. It was going to be a three-day dry fasting programme where it was guaranteed that . . .

“Dry fasting, as in no food, no water for three days??” Chilo had interrupted in dismay.

Yes, she would not eat nor drink. The only food she would eat would be the scriptures, and she her spirit would be replenished, the man guaranteed. All the food she had being eating since she was born had not helped her, so what was a few days of abstinence when one compared it to the immense benefit she was going to gain? Besides, it wasn’t a full three days; she was going to break the fast before 12.00pm on the third day.

Despite the reassurances, she felt discouraged, and left the office with a promise to go back to the hostel to ‘think about her life’, as Deborah would say. The man was a minister in the Deborah’s church, that’s why she had opted to go and see him.

Back in her room, she had a tete-a-tete with herself. She reasoned that she was definitely going to die if she went a day without food or water, not to talk of full three days, or two and a half, if the minister could be believed {though what he stood to gain by lying to her was beyond comprehension} . Her body might manage without food, but it would shut down without water! Another part of her calmly rationalised that wouldn’t it be better for her to deny and punish her flesh for a few days if that was what it would take for her to be free?

Chilo struggled with her warring desires, until finally; she decided to give deliverance a trial. Heck, if she couldn’t bear it before the third day, she would break the fast and go her way. After all, she wasn’t the one who murdered Jesus!
When she informed Deborah of her decision, her friend looked at her funny and offered to join her.

“Why?” Chilo had asked, surprised and touched.

Her friend shrugged noncommittally and gave a vague reply about her spirit being heavy and in need of fresh anointing, or something to that effect. She had undergone deliverance a couple of times so the dry fasting aspect was no big deal for her. Despite this plausible explanation, Chilo still felt suspicious. Did Deb carry secrets too? Did she lead a secret life that burdened her with guilt which she felt could be gotten rid of through deliverance? It seemed everybody carried one secret or the other around. If one cared to look deeper into the cupboard, one would likely see a big, slimy, maggot infested skeleton. Chilo judged everyone based on her own standards and perspective of life, because without doubt, she was about the biggest hypocrite that walked on the surface of the planet.

They set the date for the week after the end of their exams. Then, Chilo called the minister and informed him of her decision. From his reaction over the phone, it was pretty obvious that he hadn’t expected her to call back. He was very pleased with her and assured her that she would see the manifestation of God’s power in a whole new way.

I hope so, she thought as she hung up. [i]I really do hope so[i/] . . .

Now, it was the first day of the programme which was to begin at 7.00am in the church premises. Chilo and Deborah had waited at the garage for close to twenty minutes without getting a cab to board, so they opted to trek to the church. The church was at the UNILAG back gate, about fifteen minutes trekking distance from their hostel. Chilo would have preferred they waited a bit longer in case a cab showed up, but Deborah had insisted they trekked because they needed the exercise. Chilo hadn’t felt the inclination to point out the fact that the only person needing exercise was her.

Trudging along the road, Deb cheerfully chatted a mile a minute about everything and nothing. Listening to her chatter away like a typewriter gone rogue, Chilo felt sick to her stomach; literally sick to her stomach. She had made the mistake of eating two full plates of beans and boiled plantain by 10pm the night before and now she was paying for her gluttony. She had reasoned that since she was going to spend the next three days without food, it would be wise to eat as much as possible so that it would be quite a while before she would feel hungry again. She hadn’t taken into the account the painful fact that cooked beans was not a meal that should be eaten late at night, and in large quantities for that matter.

She had woken up feeling like someone had stuffed a pillow into her stomach overnight. It was bloated and distended. She was belching and farting non-stop and it felt like a hot pot of soup was slowly cooking somewhere deep down in her guts.

“What is wrong with you?!” Deb asked when she finally noticed her discomfort. “You’ve been rubbing your tummy since we left the hostel. Is it MP?”

“MP ke?” Chilo replied painfully.” “This one is more than MP o”

“Then what is it?”

She hesitated a bit before reluctantly saying “It seems I over ate beans last night.”

“Ha! Around what time did you eat it?”

“Around 10pm” she answered shamefacedly.

Deborah brayed laughter all over the place.

“Wo don’t laugh jor. I thought that since I would be fasting, let me kuku eat two days’ worth of food. You know, sort of like a bear going into hibernation.”

“But you don’t have the digestive system of a bear!” Deb exclaimed, trying to regain control of herself. “The worst mistake anyone can possibly make is eating beans late at night. Mess and belch go nearly wan kill you. Reminds me of the time I ate rubbish and now crowned it by joining garri to the mixture.”

“But I didn’t eat garri nau” Chilo protested.

Her friend waved her protests away with one chubby hand. “I am not saying you did. The point I am trying to make is if you eat any evil mixture, adding garri to it is disastrous. Okay, check this out- I was like twelve when this happened so don’t blame me too much. Momsie cooked jellof rice and groundnut oil moin-moin that afternoon and I ate like three plates. So, our maid was not around,I think she went for a naming ceremony or something like that, I forget now. Anyway, since there was no one at home to help out, momsie turned me to her house help for the day. She sent me on various errands and each time I went out, I used her change to by something to eat, even though there was already eaten three plates of rice and moin-moin in my stomach.”

“So your gluttony didn’t start today” Chilo wryly remarked.

“Shurrup! As I was saying, I bought different things each time I went out. Biscuits, chocolates, groundnuts and co. I even remember buying a bottle of limca to step everything down. What now spoilt everything was when I soaked a bowl of garri and added milk, bournvita and sugar. It didn’t take up to thirty minutes before my stomach started revolting.”

“I can imagine.”

“You can say that again. So there I was, rolling on the ground and crying to the heavenlies for help when the next thing I know, I vomited everything all over the place. I now followed up with some gangster stooling that lasted for hours. Dem nearly use laugh finish me for house that day” she finished.

Chilo chuckled, and then winced as a bolt of pain lanced through her abdomen. It wouldn’t be funny if what happened to Deborah when she was twelve happened to her today.

“Anyhoo, that devil that pushed you into eating your way into a mega stomach pain, today of all days, will come out this morning after you shake your body.” Deborah continued. She seemed never to tire of talking. She was as outspoken as Chilo was taciturn, which was what made their odd friendship so unique.

“Ehn I will shake. That is if I don’t collapse before then” Chilo murmured miserably, her belly a mass of churning gas and pain. To make matters worse, she felt her bowel beginning to stir like the faint rumblings of an underground volcano.

The volcano erupted about an hour after they arrived the church auditorium. By the time they reached the church premises, Chilo was barely to stand upright. Deborah quickly led them to the registration point for all the registration formalities. There, they met a sober faced woman who took one look at Chilo and sternly declared “You see the problem with overeating? You see yourself now?”

Chilo was taken aback. How on earth did she know? She opened her mouth to speak but her friend quickly cut her short.

“No ma, she ate in the dream” Deborah said with a very straight face.

The woman’s countenance softened when she heard this. “Eya sorry, ehn. They did it so that you will not be able to fast, but it’s a lie, you must fast! Don’t worry, you will receive your healing in Jesus name.”

“Amen!” Deborah enthusiastically answered for the both of them. She rushed through the registration and led the bent over Chilo to the auditorium. On their way, Deb spied her ailing companion staring at her askance.

“What??” Deb asked, the perfect picture of innocence. Chilo managed to giggle, wincing in pain as she did.

“Na God go forgive you sha” she croaked.

Deb flashed her trademark grin and kept silent.

Praise and worship was already in full swing. They chose a seat in the centre aisle, directly facing the pulpit. The area reserved for the deliverance candidates was almost fully occupied so they were fortunate to have found the vantage spot. Once settled, Deborah joined in while Chilo sat cradling her stomach tenderly. She was beginning to feel nauseous and it was all she could do not to give vent to a very long and temporarily satisfying fart. She knew that if she were to fart, the whole service would scatter. It smelt that bad. Deb hadn’t noticed on their way because they had been outdoors and the gentle morning breeze swept the noxious fumes away as they were released from her torturously over-stuffed gut.

She endured for an hour. The minister was just calling out the first set of prayer points when Chilo rushed out of the auditorium with Deborah closely on her heels. Ignoring the curious gazes of the shop owners around, she looked around wildly and noticed an open gutter a few yards from where she stood. She could feel the warning saliva gathering in her mouth. The world tipping crazily around her as she dashed towards the gutter. She was barely at the foot when she leaned over and vomited helplessly into it. It was like a fountain had been let opened. Disgusting bits of half-digested plantain, beans, yesterday’s late lunch of yam porridge and a host of other things which she could put no name to floated around in the gutter like debris from a waste plant. In the back of her mind, she was happy that the registration lady was not around to see the stuff gushing out of her mouth. The mess before her watery eyes would NEVER pass off as the physical manifestations of evil dream food.

After what seemed like hours, she straightened up and for the first time noticed Deborah standing beside her. She was trying, and failing, to affect a sympathetic countenance.

“You may laugh now” Chilo said hoarsely, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

The cheeky girl screeched with laughter.

“You know,” she said, still laughing “this reminds me of a similar thing that happened the first time I was undergoing deliverance. It was the second day of the deliverance. There was this guy at the row in front of me who was behaving as if he was going to die the very next minute. We were in the middle of shouting ‘O God my father!’ when the guy turned and vomited all over my shoes. Guess what he threw up, and on the second day of the programme for that matter?”

Chilo stared expressionlessly at her in response, still trying to recover.

“Fufu and egusi! And we were supposed to be on dry fasting!!” Deborah declared and dissolved into fresh fits of mirth

Chilo was forced to laugh at that point.

************
After vomiting, Chilo still managed to purge three times during the duration of the deliverance session. At a point the minister asked the candidates to ‘shake out every evil arrow’ that may have been fired into their life. Weakly, she twisted her body this way and that, and had to run to the toilet to release what was left of the late dinner that was now tormenting her.

When her bowels were finally empty, she dragged herself to the auditorium and quivering, sat down once more. She watched Deborah shake her body, wave her hands wildly, clap forcefully and pray madly. Watching her friend’s antics was in itself tiring because the energy waves her body movements sent reinforced Chilo’s awareness of the weakness and dehydration she was currently experiencing.

The deliverance session was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She had expected the ministers to lay hands on her and boom! her problems would be solved. She hadn’t expected the crowd she met. There were so many problems in this life, it seemed. Neither had she expected that they would have to pray for themselves. She had read the church’s profile on their website. The ministry was a ‘do it yourself ministry where the hands were trained to do battle against the forces of darkness’. She hadn’t known that ‘do it yourself’ meant just that; do it yourself.

A scripture passage flitted through her mind: Know ye not that ye are gods?

Yeah, she knew, but she believed that there were some cases that required a higher anointing for victory to prevail. She very well couldn’t walk up to a mad man and minister deliverance to him, could she? No, she couldn’t; not when she was a walking warehouse of filth and immorality.

During ministration, she was shocked when people began falling under the power. Women shrieked, men bellowed, white plastic chairs were overturned and scattered as people manifested.

There is no way on earth I am going to behave like this, she thought fiercely. Her shock was further heightened when during prayer against evil dream food, Deborah suddenly gripped her stomach and began coughing violently.

Aha, so you are the dream eater, not I! she thought in mounting horror. The various deliverance ministers had by now began moving through the crowd, laying hands on the candidates who were either manifesting the presence of demons or were on the verge of doing so. Chilo sat stiffly in the chair, staring in wide eyed wonder at what was happening around her.

Deb had fallen on her knees and was shuddering and making retching sounds. A man danced crazily past her and landed in an ungainly heap a few feet from where she knelt. Chilo was still trying to adjust herself when a woman, flailing her hands and shrieking wildly, fled past her and headed for the entrance. A posse of deliverance ministers gave hot chase, caught her just as she crossed the threshold and dragged the woman, still howling, back to the auditorium. Chilo just managed to avoid her kicking feet as the woman was carried like a bag of garri to the pulpit.

O, the indignity of it all, she thought disdainfully. Nonetheless, it was quite interesting to watch.

She was so busy watching people being delivered that she was startled when a beefy hand clamped down on her shoulders and a deep voice barked “sister, stop watching people. Close your eyes and pray for your own deliverance!” She raised her head and beheld the sweaty, scowling face of a minister. Chagrined, she lowered her head and made a show of shaking her head vigorously and moving her lips. She was afraid to stand up in case her bowel was still bent on embarrassing her.

Thankfully, after another thirty minutes or thereabouts, the deliverance ministration ended and calm returned to the arena. By this time Deborah had regained her composure and was moving her lips silently when the last ‘amen’ was announced. Thereafter, the chairs that had been flung hither thither were reassembled and everyone settled down to listen to the message.

The message was on witchcraft powers and their modus operandi. Chilo knew all about witches. Heck, that nasty woman who taught them Contemporary Theatre, Dr Sade Akanji was probably one, which was why getting a C in her course was more difficult than getting good quality shoes in Aswani market.

Still thinking unpleasant thoughts about her lecturer, her mind gradually moved on to other things. Her mind jumped from thought to thought like a restless house fly, dwelling on some and turning away from others like a millipede that had encountered an obstacle in its path. The thoughts she avoided were the thoughts of men and sex, of the pain they had caused her and the journey that brought her to this point.

She was in this state of deep contemplation when the service ended around 11.00am. Thereafter, Chilo and her companion rested a bit before walking to the garage in silence and boarding a cab back to the hostel.

"The rich also cry. We wear the shoe so we know where it pinches the most.”

They were in Deborah’s room resting. When they had gotten back to the room, the silence between them had been so thick and heavy that Deb had felt compelled to say something. Anything.

Chilo knew what she was referring to, but she still pretended not to understand.

“Huh? What are talking about?”

“That stuff that happened in the church na”

“Oh, okay! So what happened?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t describe it sha. All I know is I felt like vomiting, and even felt something coming out of my throat but at the end nothing came out.”

“Eya, sorry” Chilo offered, not knowing what to say.

“Thanks jare.”

They relapsed into companionable silence. A few minutes passed then Deborah started again.

“People think that rich people have no problems, but na we get problem pass.” Deborah was from a well-to-do home, but she never made a big deal out of it because she had been born into wealth. She was very humble and down-to-earth for the simple reason that she had been brought up with the mind-set that riches were temporary and no human being would carry a single pin into the afterlife.

“I dreamt I ate raw chicken and drank toilet water” she continued quietly.

“Ewwwwww!!” Chilo cried with disgust.

Deb smiled woodenly. “Nauseating, right? I think so too. Well, after I had that dream, my period ceased.”

Chilo was flummoxed. “What?! How long has it been?”

“Almost ten months now. Before then, my period was like clockwork. Never late, never early. Always came when it was supposed to. The month I had the dream, it flowed heavily for more than three weeks.”

“Three weeks!”

“Yes o, three weeks. That was the last time I saw it. Since then till now, it”
she made a disappearing motion with her hands, “has gone poof.” She shrugged and sighed heavily. “My momsie even took me for fibroid scan when it was flowing like a . . .burst tank and refused to stop. The scan and tests didn’t show anything. Even pops have taken me to many doctors yet nothing.”


Chilo struggled to find the right words to say. So much pain behind her friend's smile. Sometimes wealth could not protect one from life's challenges. Good heavens, how awful!

Abruptly, Deb changed the subject. “So tell me, why did you suddenly decide to go for deliverance? What you told me was you needed just counselling alone, so why did you change your mind?”

Chilo was caught off guard by the question.

“Emm, I, emm. . . I just wanted to . . . get deliverance from . . . bad dreams. . .” She stuttered to stop. The reason she gave sounded lame, even to her own ears. However it seemed to satisfy Deborah who had never been an overly inquisitive soul.

“Na wa, so so attacks everywhere. God help us” her friend said, folding her hands across her chest in wonder.

“Indeed,” Chilo agreed. However, deep down, she felt very ashamed. How could she look into her friend’s plain, honest face and tell her the sordid truth? Who could she tell that she had abandoned service midway because of her unquenchable desire for a man’s body? She was driven by a smouldering lust that was tormenting her with unholy fire; a dark fire that consumed her every waking thought.

Let the meditations of my heart be acceptable in thy sight . . .

She thought about sex, she dreamed of sex, she saw a man and the first thing she imagined was the size of his member and how he would look without his clothes on. She projected beauty and virtue, but what went on in her heart was the stuff por.n magazines were made from. It was crazy!!

Shamed by her lies and unable to look her friend in the face, she mechanically got up and went to Deborah’s table top refrigerator by the corner of her bed. Without even being aware of what she was doing, she took out a sachet of ‘pure water’ and was about opening it when Deb’s shout of alarm jolted her out of her almost trance-like state.

“Chilo, what are you doing?! We are supposed to be on dry fasting!”

Chilo paused, the unopened sachet between her teeth. She slowly removed it and lowered her hands. Suddenly, she jammed the water back in her mouth, tore the sachet open and took a deep and satisfying gulp.

“Chilo!”

“What?” she asked dryly. “I have been vomiting and stooling all day. I am dehydrated and my insides feel like a dry corn husk. The whole deliverance, I fear, will be an exercise in futility if I am too weak to pray.”

“Must you say everything in big English?” Deb asked in exasperation. “Besides, I believe you could have endured till at least evening nau, haba”.

“Wo, Deborah leave me abeg. After all, no be me kee Jesus.”


***********

She felt a strange restlessness as she watched the man approaching. Something that felt like cold fire was bubbling from somewhere deep in her head and was beginning to spread to the rest of her body. As he got closer, she realised that her body was vibrating. No longer able to coordinate her motions, she began to sway like one drunk. The people around her quickly shuffled away to avoid having their feet trampled upon.

The man kept on coming. When he got to where she stood swaying, he grabbed he elbow and said sharply “leave!”

It was at this point that she heard someone screaming, as if from a long distance. The screams were high, terrible and full of an intractable fury.

Just before she hit the hard, cemented floor, she realised that these maniacal sounding screams were tearing forth from her own throat . . .

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Den dis thread is sure 2 be boring witout comments. Tank u

The rock5555: Den dis thread is sure 2 be boring witout comments. Tank u

Abi o...