Assurance1000:
lshilove, I see you viewing. loving the story line. keep up the good work sis.

Thanks dear

Ishilove:

Without warning, she felt pain. Her eyes, which had been shut as she savoured every bit of the experience, flew open.

He was not honouring the agreement!

His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see when she opened hers. He had an intense look of concentration on his face. She opened her mouth to protest this breach of the arrangement, but the sound that issued forth was a cross between a groan and an animal moan. Another wave of electric sensations swept through her even as simultaneously, the pain grew.

The man above her pushed some more, and she felt something give way inside her, just as the tidal surge of her pleasure reached its peak.

With the coast clear, he began to rock back and forth. And once he began moving, there was no turning back.

Chilo, who by now was returning to her full senses, felt hot and cold at once. She tried to disengage herself, but it was too late. Emmanuel was already in the grip of his own pleasure and nothing, absolutely nothing was going to stop him from milking every ounce of the moment.

This was not how she had imagined her first time would be. Not in a tiny, stuffy room, in a strange bed, with someone she barely knew; and surely not with her shirt pooled around her throat like some strumpet giving it to the neighbourhood boys in a back alley. NO, IT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS!!!!

Dear God, what have I done?!!

Briny, her tears mixed freely with the warm sweat beginning to drip off the stranger’s face above her, soaking the pillow beneath. . .

Naptu2, I remember feeling really bad when I wrote this. I almost wept because I felt so sorry for her, even though she is a low key hypocritical hoe.

Ishilove:

Naptu2, I remember feeling really bad when I wrote this. I almost wept because I felt so sorry for her, even though she is a low key hypocritical hoe.

eeya it's a conscious attachment to the character

Ishilove:

Huddling against the cold and sinking further into the over-soft chair, she spent the rest of the insomnia plagued night feeling miserably sorry for herself.

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

Chilo listened as the line she was calling rang and rang without anyone picking. When the call ended, she placed the phone against her throbbing temple, feeling (and looking, she felt sure) all the world like The Thinker. It had been four days since Eric had put her in a cab the morning after that dreadful night, given her 1500 naira and bade her goodbye with nary a backward glance.

Since then, he hadn’t picked his calls neither
had he responded to her text messages. She knew he was not incapacitated in anyway because she saw his Facebook activity. He didn’t even respond to her Facebook messages.

So much for the great romance.

How low can you descend, Sister Jesus? Face it sweetheart, you had a one-night stand. He is done with you and doesn’t need your ‘services’ again. Hypocrite!

She squashed the mocking voice within and began tidying her disorganised locker. One did not know how dishevelled the interior really was until one took a closer look.

Something ran down her right cheek. Distractedly, she brushed it off. Her hand came away wet. Tears were running down her eyes but she had been too pre-occupied to notice.

"O my, this is strange" she whispered.

But she let them fall; thick, silent and bitter, blurring the world around her. Not bothering to wipe them, as she went through the motions of existing. . .

*sigh*

This one made me feel especially bad. What a hoe

:'

So touching

Ishilove:

*sigh*

This one made me feel especially bad. What a hoe (

Ishilove:

*sigh*

This one made me feel especially bad. What a hoe

Do you want to buy a hoe?

Ishilove:
God bless whoever is liking the posts. It is making me reread the story with fresh eyes, and while i admit, with humility, that I am actually enjoying the story, I feel I can do better than what I have written here.

I will start updating again from next week, if anyone is still interested.

Aunty Ishi, when exactly is next week?

Ishilove nothing to like again this beautiful story needs to be completed. When are you resuming updates biko??

Ishilove:
Silence smothered the room. The silence was so thick; she felt sure if one spoke, the words would come out muffled. The only sounds Chilo that could hear were the sounds of their breathing, the sounds of her own brain waves and the sound of Oliver rummaging through Mother’s bag in the next room.

Chilo felt the gathering of a storm and sat stock still, afraid to move in case the storm broke over her head. She ventured a peek at Mother’s face. Mother was staring unseeingly at the wall, her countenance seeming to be carved out of granite. Her face looked like one of those faces on Mount Rushmore. She knew about Rushmore because she had seen it in a movie and Father said Mt Rushmore was real and not ‘film trick’.

Mother finally broke the silence. She said: “How long has being touching you?”

“I don’t know, Mummy. It has been long.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, or your daddy, or your elder ones?”

Chilo hesitated, unsure of what to say.

“Speak, you silly girl!!” Mother spat, furious. “Why?? It has being going on for a long time yet you couldn’t open up to any of us. If you were too ashamed to tell me or your daddy, couldn’t you have told Andrela? Or Kodi? Or even Andrew? Why didn’t you speak out?? Or were you enjoying it?”

The child gasped, and burst into fresh tears. Mother instantly felt ashamed. Dear God, this was a ten year old. She probably didn’t comprehend what was being done to her, but knew on a certain level that it was a bad thing.

“I’m sorry, my dear” Mother apologised weakly, all the anger draining out of her features. She gathered the small body in her arms and began to coo softly until the tears subsided. Speaking very quietly, Mother coaxed everything out of Chilo. Well, not quite everything. For reasons she couldn’t quite understand, she failed to mention the funny sensations that she usually felt when Prince caressed her nip.ples. She felt a shame that had no name and decided to omit that part in her narration.

“Did you kick him well?” Mother asked grimly when Chilo had finished.

“Yes, mummy. I kicked him three times” the child declared proudly.

“What were you wearing when you kicked him?”

“My ordinary slippers”, she answered, and raised her feet for Mother to inspect. The feet were shod in green bathroom slippers.

“I wish it were spiked boots”, Mother muttered. “Chichi’m, I am so sorry.” She sighed wearily. "So, so sorry." Mother repeated, looking suddenly tired and older than her age. She covered her face and was silent. It was only when Chilo spied water leaking out from between her fingers did she realise that Mother was crying. She was surprised. She had never seen her mother cry.

Her mother sat still, shoulders bowed and unshaking, and wept silently.

Chilo, who a few minutes earlier had being consoled by Mother, put her arms around the weeping woman and did her best to comfort her.

After a few minutes, Mother, without removing her hands from her face, wiped her eyes thoroughly. When she finally put down her hands, the only sign that she had cried were her red eyes.

“Thank God you told me, Chi. Not to worry; he will not tell us to leave. He dare not.” She drew her child closer and the little girl rested her head on her mother’s bosom.

“Are you sure?” the child asked, worried.

Mother smiled a mirthless smile and said: “I know what I am saying. He will not ask us to leave. And Chi?”

“Yes, mummy?”

“Starting from today henceforth, if he ever touches you again, scream out loud. When I come home, tell me and I will boil water, add pepper to it and pour it on him. I don’t care the consequences, but if he ever touches you again, I will kill him.”

Startled, Chilo looked into her mother’s face and from the frightening glint in her eyes, knew that she meant every single word.

“Okay, mummy,” she said softly.

* * ** **

That night, her parents had a whispered meeting. Chilo knew it was her case that was being discussed because at the beginning of the meeting which was held behind the closed doors of her parents’ bedroom, she had heard Father roar “HE DID WHAT??” Mother shushed him and the meeting had continued in whispers. After the whispering had ceased, her parents had exited the room and headed straight for Prince’s quarters.

Chilo ran to her bedroom and scrambled to the window, just in time to see Mother bulldoze her way into the boy’s quarters, with Father bringing up the rear. She expected to hear protests, accusations, denials, raised voices and sounds of blows being administered to human flesh, but it seemed Prince had been expecting them as there was nary a scream to be heard.

After what seemed like DECADES, her parents came back to the house. Though they were still upset, but they were a lot calmer than when they had left the house about two hours earlier. Chilo had been standing sentry at the window and knew exactly when they left the Prince’s apartment. Her siblings did not know what was happening, but they all waited for their parents to return. Her parents summoned the whole family together and Father was the first to speak.

“Chi, mummy has told me everything and we have gone to warn Prince. Don’t worry; he won’t come near you again. And if he dares try anything again, he will regret the day he was born.”

“What did Prince do?” Kodi asked, bewildered.

“He has been touching Chilo in a very bad way”, Mother explained, her face beginning to turn red. Mother was very fair complexioned and her emotions showed on her skin like a mirror. When she was happy, her skin glowed. When she was angry, like now, her face turned a dull red.

“Bad way? How?” Andrela interjected.

“He has been touching her in her private parts!” Father said indignantly.

“Oburogwoloko!!” Kodi exclaimed. Andrela, for once not smiling, was too bewildered to comment further. Andrew’s scowl deepened and he said coldly, “why didn’t she say anything? I would have arranged some of my friends to deal with him!”

“What a pig”, Kodi said in disgust. “Doesn’t he know her age? And here we were thinking he genuinely liked Chichi, not knowing he was committing evil behind us. I just hope he isn’t doing this to other children”. Kodi was sixteen but he often spoke like an adult.

The person at the centre of the storm spoke up for the first time. She said: “Ehen, which reminds me…”, and proceeded to tell them about Prince and his niece. Since Prince seemed to have an unsavoury fondness for little girls, it was most likely that there was more to the relationship than meets the eyes.

When Chilo finished, Mother looked sickened to the pit of her stomach while Father gravely commented that it seemed things were more serious than they initially thought. Her siblings had identical expressions of shock and disgust.

“Who would have imagined. Prince, of all people. There are so many sick people out there”, Kodi said, eyes wide in amazement.

True to her parents’ words, Prince never came within ten feet of Chilo again. She didn’t know what had gone on when her parents had stormed her tormentor’s lair, but whatever warning they might have given Prince worked wonders because she was left in peace after that night. However, the nearly daily visits from Prince’s niece continued. . .

Chilo could never tell anyone about the strange sensations she had felt when Prince had been pawing her sensitive parts. It was a sensation that had no name. She often found herself thinking about it in the months that followed her ‘freedom’ from the evil caretaker’s bondage.

******************************************
About a year later, Father was finally able to secure a job and they moved out the house. Even though Prince didn’t bother them about house rent, the family decided that it would be best if they moved far away from the caretaker’s disgusting presence. According to Mother, living in the same compound with Prince made her feel dirty, like she was being a partaker of his evil deeds. Besides, who knew when the devil might possess the goat of a man and he would suddenly remember her daughters.

By the time Chilo gained admission into an all-girls public secondary school, she was eleven years old and had missed a whole academic year. However, she was a very bright girl so her parents decided that there was no need for her to enrol in Jss1. She would jump straight to Jss2, or Grade 8 as it is now known in certain schools. With the help of a teacher in one of the public schools in town, a report card was forged and presented to the secondary school’s admission officer.

“A very good result”, the civil servant commented as she perused the fake result that lay on her cluttered desk. Files upon files lay in untidy heaps at the foot of the desk. The office was sparsely furnished, and the table where Chilo’s bogus report card now lay open before the tired looking public officer was a leather covered firewood-supplier-in-the-making that had seen better days. The office was the typical civil servant’s office: depressing, as Mother later remarked.

There was an abundance of blue ink and very little red ink on the score columns. Mother prayed that the teacher who forged the report card hadn’t gone overboard with the scores.

“She must be very intelligent to have such good scores,” the woman stated further. Mother gave a brilliant smile while Chilo looked on, trying not to look guilty, and said cheerfully “We thank God!”

With a barely concealed yawn, the officer snapped the report card shut, handed it to Mother and said “She is in.” Waving off the grateful parent’s effusive thanks, she gave them a file and directed them to the Records Office, and that was that.

Chilo began classes after the mid-term break of the second term. She had missed one academic year plus a term and a half, but she was able to cope because she was a precocious child.

Her classmates were an assortment of pre-teens like her, and girls who well into their teens. Their teachers came to class to teach about three times a week, and on those days when the students didn’t see the shadow of a teacher anywhere near their doorstep, they amused themselves with idle chatter and gossip. The subject of their conversations were usually focused on trade, boys, and of course s.exx.

I want to leave school early today, my mother wants I and my brother to hawk the plantains. Did you know so and so was caught pants down in her boyfriend’s house, by his mother?? This boy in my neighbourhood is on my case. He won’t let me be. My boyfriend took me to drink pepper soup yester night and I almost disgraced myself by vomiting. I have being vomiting every morning; I wonder what could be wrong with me. Guess what? So and so’s elder sister, yes, the one in SS2 E, had an abortion and her mother was the one who took her to the clinic herself. What a scandal!

By the end of the week, Chilo’s ears were permanently hot and tingly. She had always been sheltered, so this sudden exposure to conversations which bluntly vocalised the baser nature of humans was quite jolting, to put it mildly.

She buried herself in the storybooks she regularly stole, or 'fapped' -to use the secondary school parlance- from the school library and tried to block out the filth that flew around. Yes, filth. Mother said those girls were doing ‘foolish’ things. They were ‘foolishing’ themselves and they were going to end up with ‘big problem’. Indeed. Sadia in Jss2 B ended up with the ‘big problem’ before the end of third term. She suddenly stopped coming to class just shortly before the mid-term break. The word on the grapevine was she had gotten pregnant and her parents had had to withdraw her from school. Chilo found it hard to believe because Sadia had always appeared to be a decent, easygoing girl who never made trouble, unlike the other ‘alata’ {pepper seller} girls who populated the school. It was speculated that the father was a popular Baba eleran {meat seller} in her neighbourhood.

Sadia was soon forgotten and life went on in the school as usual. Chilo was shocked when one day, many months later, on a very hot afternoon on her way back from school, she espied Sadia sitting close to one of the shops that dotted the streets surrounding her school. Her ex-schoolmate had a baby girl strapped to her back, and she was sitting in front of a bowl containing iced water tied in transparent nylons. She hurried over to where the young mother sat, exchanged pleasantries, paid for two naira’s worth of iced water but collected only one. One nylon of water cost one naira. Sadia was grateful for the extra one naira, but Chilo waved away her thanks and went on her way. She hadn’t been thirsty but she needed an excuse to go gawk at a ‘foolish’ ex-classmate who was foolish enough to go about ‘a’foolishing’ and had gotten ‘big problem’ as a reward for her foolishness (to use Mother’s language).

Making her way back home, she wondered what people found so fascinating about se.x that made them do foolish things.

As the months passed by, Chilo gained a reputation as a hard-nosed, bible believing loner. Although she listened to tales of escapades with amusement, that was as far as she allowed it to go. She was urged by her peers to get a boyfriend, but she ignored them and concentrated on the mundane task of living.

She wasn’t much of a bookworm, but she tried as much as possible to do her homework and read for tests and exams when the time came. Thus when she wrote her JSSCE, her result wasn’t exactly remarkable but she was able to pass well, getting credits in almost all her papers, with the exception of Yoruba language, where she got an E.

On the home front, conditions had improved greatly. After her exams, Father decided that it was time for her to leave the public school. A private school not too far from home was selected.

In the proprietor's office, her report card, the real thing this time, was presented for perusal. The result wasn’t as stellar as the previous bogus one {there was an abundance of red ink in this current one}, but it was good enough to secure her a place in the school.

Chilo, who was by now thirteen years of age, found her new school to be a totally different place from her old one. For one, her classmates were in her age group, and most amazing of all, the teachers actually came to class EVERYDAY! Astounding, to say the least.

She quickly settled down in her new school, made new friends and her grades improved drastically.

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

“ORGIM,” Bamidele mouthed. Chilo rolled her eyes.

“It’s o.r.g.a.s.m, fool.”

“Worreva. Would you like me to take you to orgam, or whatever?” the question was accompanied by a leer.

This conversation was taking place in their near empty classroom, during break time.

They had just finished biology class in the last period before break, and the topic had been Reproduction and Contraceptives. The biology teacher, after threatening to deal ruthlessly with anyone who would venture laugh while the lesson went on, proceeded to give a very insightful lecture on the human reproductive system, sex.ual intercourse and contraceptives. The parts that interested the students most was the definition of se.x, and orga.sm.

While the lesson went on, Chilo, who was now in SS2, realised for the first time that what she had felt when Prince had caressed her a lifetime ago, was an orga.sm. She was intrigued.

During break, Bamidele, her tiresome, gutter minded classmate who felt every female that was not related to him by blood was a potential girlfriend, was trying to see if he could get Chilo to talk dirty with him.

“Not even in your wildest dreams”, she replied wryly.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Stop asking stoopid questions.”

“I could touch you in special places, arose you and make you have an orgim”. Wink.

Chilo sighed in exasperation.

“Bamidele.”

“What, baby girl?”

“Stop auditioning for the role of village iidiot. It is very unbecoming.”

He grimaced. “You this girl, you like to abuse stylishly sha. You and your big big grama.”

“The middle finger to you!” she responded merrily.

“Sharaap!!”

“Your mouth!”

And back and forth they went until the bell was rung, signalling the end of break.

At home, later that night, as Chilo lay on the carpeted floor, her mind drifted back to the biology lesson and its intriguing revelation.

“Pleasant sensations that are felt as a result of se.xual stimulation is called aroosal”, Mr Ene had explained, trying to maintain a dead pan expression.

“Please sir, can you spell it?” someone eagerly asked from the back row.

“You will see the spelling when I give you the note to copy”, he snapped. “Stop interrupting!”

“Now as I was saying, aroosal leads to orgasme, or climax. Climax is the peak or highest point of the aroosal.”

Yes indeedy, thought Chilo, as she lay twiddling her toes, what she had felt was definitely an ‘orgasme’, as Mr Ene had pronounced it. To borrow Bamidele’s words, she had being ‘arosed’ by that dirty lecher of a man, Prince. She wondered how that was possible.

Chilo raised her hand and gently touched her exposed bosoms. She was nu/de from waist down because the weather was baking hot and NEPA had done their thing.

She didn’t feel anything. She tried to remember how Prince had touched her, and mimicked the moves.

Finally, she felt an ancient stirring deep down in her womb. It was familiar, exciting and . . . felt oddly natural. She began rocking herself to the motion and rythym of her hands. The stirring grew and grew, consuming the very fibre of her being. Her breathing became heavier. Every thought in her head rushed to that central point where the absolutely delicious flow was headed. When the sensations peaked, she stiffened and let the explosions rock her.

When the tremors had passed, she realised she held her bosom in an almost vice-like grip. She slowly relaxed her fingers. Her joints felt like jelly.

Stunned and sweaty, fourteen year old Chilo gasped “What the hell did I just do to myself??”

She had no answer, and she refused to dwell on it because at that moment, she felt that something had shifted in her world. Something that had no name to it but was fascinating, dangerous and…exciting.

PTSD. Ishilove I love you I swear.

Goalnaldo:
PTSD. Ishilove I love you I swear.

I love you too, even though I can like to shove your face under my unwashed armpit for quoting the entire post

Ishilove:

I love you too, even though I can like to shove your face under my unwashed armpit for quoting the entire post

hahaha sorry even to cut the post is tedious. Tell me are you from ukuani area of Delta State? We are probably the only folks that call head ishi. My younger sisters name is ishioma (good head)

Goalnaldo:
hahaha sorry even to cut the post is tedious. Tell me are you from ukuani area of Delta State? We are probably the only folks that call head ishi. My younger sisters name is ishioma (good head)

She's my namesake

Ishilove:

She's my namesake

Good head for good sized d

Ishilove:

She's my namesake

wow I knew it. Otofe ma

ornicus:


Good head for good sized d

Is that all you ever think about? I'm suspecting you

Goalnaldo:
wow I knew it. Otofe ma

Ajie. Idawu?

ornicus:


Good head for good sized d

Hmm evil man

Ishilove:

Ajie. Idawu?

Hmm sisö egwu

Goalnaldo:
Hmm sisö egwu

I don't understand this your version of Ukwuani

Ishilove:

I don't understand this your version of Ukwuani

I'm a pro sis. Just tell me to teach you. How do you write 'only hunger'

Goalnaldo:
I'm a pro sis. Just tell me to teach you. How do you write 'only hunger'

Egu so (pronounced soh)

Ishilove:

Egu so (pronounced soh)

lol sisoh egu is the right one

Goalnaldo:
lol sisoh egu is the right one

No be ndokwa west Ukwuani you dey speak o. In my side we say egu iso. You're likely from Ndokwa east

Ishilove:

No be ndokwa west Ukwuani you dey speak o. In my side we say egu iso. You're likely from Ndokwa east

this is becoming interesting! My parents are from utagba ogbe (Kwale) where are you from?

Goalnaldo:
this is becoming interesting! My parents are from utagba ogbe (Kwale) where are you from?

Ehen, i was right. Ndi utagba are the ones who turn the language upside down.

I'm from Emu

Ishilove:

Ehen, i was right. Ndi utagba are the ones who turn the language upside down.

I'm from Emu

you made my day enjoyable. I had wanted to ask you about your ethnicity before but remembered today as I was reading your literature. I came across where you said 'obulogwoloko' . Good night dear.

Note: utagba ogbe is West not East.

Goalnaldo:
you made my day enjoyable. I had wanted to ask you about your ethnicity before but remembered today as I was reading your literature. I came across where you said 'obulogwoloko' . Good night dear.

Note: utagba ogbe is West not East.

So I have clarified. Utagba people, though west still turn the language on its head

Good night dear. A pleasure making your acquaintance.

Ofu obi!

Ishilove:

So I have clarified. Utagba people, though west still turn the language on its head

Good night dear. A pleasure making your acquaintance.

Ofu obi!

....ishilove I admire your writing skills...this work as I'm reading this episode is as if I'm reading a brand new story...it's been long it was aboundoned... when are you updating again? Please I can't wait to finish this great work of yours.

Ishilove, I don dey read this story since 5am
E long die, but I gatz finish it.

DriggityDre:
Ishilove, I don dey read this story since 5am
E long die, but I gatz finish it.

Dre darling, I hope it is not boring you?

Chibuking1402:
....ishilove I admire your writing skills...this work as I'm reading this episode is as if I'm reading a brand new story...it's been long it was aboundoned... when are you updating again? Please I can't wait to finish this great work of yours.

My dear I'm having writer's block o

Ishilove:

Dre darling, I hope it is not boring you?

Nah, you can never bore me . Don't worry. I'll review it when I'm done