I am Foxybone the writer, dancer, poet, actor and every other talent you can think of. If it is talent, it is in me but then, I want to write a story here. Itz been long I did that but then what will all men do since comedy seemed to have ended with FLOW1759's story.

Oya na, make una come campaign for me as the next comedy writer. I will try as much as I can to stick to good English.

God bless you as you comment.

Signed.

Foxybone -- The Writer

Papa Emeka sat down dejectedly his chewstick hanging at an oblong angle of his mouth which from a distance looked like a bulldog. His lips were so scattered that at first look his wife commented that his teeth made her remember a night filled with stars. At first it sounded like a compliment but we all know what it means, his teeth are so f*cking apart. Papa Emeka had been bemoaning the fact that his Landlord had not only come to threaten him but had dealt him two slaps when he tried to argue with the man. Sometimes Landlords could act like they are the Almighty, may God forgive them.

Since he had known himself, poverty had clunged to him like a second skin. He had to beg his way through school and the annoying part was that he dropped out at Primary three and could barely spell his name because he always came late having had to sell Akamu all through the neighbourhood. He was thrown out of business after the woman who gave him the Akamu to sell passed on. Papa Emeka was devastated but then, the will of God sometimes could make someone think he was created to fill in space.

Papa Emeka adjusted his sitting position, this time shaking his open leg thoroughly and making his unclothed privates to dangle. Unknown to him the whole world was staring at his blokous as the short he was wearing had a large tear in the center.

"I can feel a coolness I was not feeling initially, could it be that my prayers are being answered?"

Papa Emeka thought until little Ugochukwu giggled and pointed innocently at his dangling member.

"Papa, look at a black rope"

Papa Emeka quickly adjusted his seating posture, he had far more things in his head to think of than get angry at his son that doesn't even look like him. Unlike him, the boy had a nice carved out face and teeth that fitted into his mouth. Thoughts of his wife being unfaithful always rings in his ear but who would want his equally ugly wife? To him the answer was "nobody", but me and you know better, as long as a woman doesn't possess the organ of a man, there is always a man that will chase her just to stick his organ into her.

"Kpoi, kpoi!!! Papa Emeka"

A voice shouted from outside before the owner pushed open the wooden door that served as a gate to the compound. A man in his late forties entered, his caftan which was white looking dirty brown, his trouser pulled up to knee level with an unkempt beard. His eyes looked wild but he had a smile that was dented by tobacco and kolanut. His name ---

"Mustapha, Mustapha, you don't need to know before entering into my house. My house belongs to you"

Papa Emeka said in a solemn voice like the whole world was against him.

"God forbid for me to own this kind of house, it is better I sleep under the bridge, Malam Fafa Emeka"

Mustapha answered looking round the compound.

Mustapha could be right if he was living under any better condition but then as a Nigerian he need to make light any situation since the popular Nigerian slogan is "Man must survive".

"Musty, if you are not my friend, I would have shown you the way out of this house, is your own place any better?"

Papa Emeka asked his eyes boiling from mocked rage.

"Haba mana, you know my place is not better but it is like Aso Villa compared to what you have here"

Mustapha fired back obviously enjoying the fact that it was Papa Emeka that was the joke that day.

"Enough of your yabbings my friend. Let's go and see if there will be anybody to employ us today."

Papa Emeka said standing up and dusting his buttocks.

"There will be as far as work is concerned. I am just afraid you will drink away the proceeding of today."

Mustapha said walking towards the door with Papa Emeka following closely behind. Mustapha turned back and looked at him laughing before saying:

"Mallam Papa Emeka, you are not dead yet, please go and wear your trouser, we are going to work not the other thing."





To be continued...

Front seat tinz ...........I go com bak com read am, but guy no fuckup o

If u Bleep up, i will but ur member.

mstcheeeeew you again

"Madam please give a pepper for N50 and Tomatoes for N80 and Onions for N20."

Emily said adjusting her dirty wrapper of her chest which was bare up to the shoulders. She watched as the seller measured everything using a kind of plate called "kwanu" in Hausa. She made sure none of the actions of the woman escaped her eyes.

"Nshhhh"

She blew her nose beside her and used the back of her palm to wipe the little ones sticking out of her nose.

"Ah ah Madam, don't drive my customers away with your actions o"

The pepper seller complained as she scooped onions from where she had kept them.

"Do not be angry with me, I caught a little cold last night after exposing myself to the rain yesterday."

Emily replied.

"Sorry o, you should try take boska or flucor-jay, I hear it works"

The woman really had a heart of flesh. Her last remark made Emily looked at her one last time before muttering a thank you and making her way through the street. She walked like she had a burden on her shoulder as she thought of her life since she met her husband. He was her husband by the virtue that he accommodated her after she was kicked out of the house by her father after he discovered she was sleeping with the landlord of his house.

"Madam, abeh watch where you dey go make you no go kill yourself"

An okada rider screamed at her shaking his index finger.

"No vex abeg"

She shouted back. Why would she not think when she just knew that it was the end of the world for her since poverty now shares a surname with her. Though she had no clothes to wear she still looked hot as her shape could still make necks turn. All she had was the wrapper tied firmly over her bre.asts and a gown with a blouse which she hardly uses since she doesn't go out. Though there is more to her story.

"Mama welcome"

Ugochukwu said as he ran to hug her. He was looking dirty as usual with only a pant hiding his small member away from public view.

"Ehen, my son"

She patted him fondly on his head since he was the reason why she had decided to hang on to life, but like I said, there is more to her.

"Mama I dey hungry"

Emeka said moments later as she settled to grind the pepper using a grind stone. A grinding stone is a flat stone that has a smaller one attached to it that is used in grinding almost everything grindable if you are short on cash to visit a grinding machine.

"No worry, food go still done"

She answered him pushing him slightly impatiently as she stood to fan the firewood she was using in cooking. Rice was boiling on the fire and the same food will be eaten both for lunch and dinner though in small quantities.

In efik we call your type " Ndara'ke" meaning i won't rejoice ... Cos small time now you will run off

Balewa looked at his face in the mirror this time a grin playing on his lips, he all but knew that the going was good and everything will worked as pre-planned. Papa Emeka his lousy tenant would be out of the house the moment he chose to return back to the house. He will only meet Emily and he will threaten her as usual. He knew deep within him that whatever he was doing was wrong but the woman had a body he could not just ignore. He waited patiently for the old hag he called his wife to serve him “koko da kosai” which is bean cake and corn pap.

“Haba Hajiya, kin a so yunwa ya kasha ni ne? (Do you want hunger to kill me?)

He screamed from his inner room. He had married her when he was still a struggling kolanut seller. She use to bring “Shinkafa da mai da yaji --- garau garau” (Local rice prepared white and spiced up with groundnut oil and pepper sometimes served with salad). Sometimes he gets the food free from her because he knows how to say funny things a lot. Having befriended her, one day they had met in the bush path behind her father’s house. He ended up doing the thing which result came out barely a month later. She was given to him as “sadakka --- sadak” (men who do not have the means of marrying women in the north are actually given wives for free with the marriage ceremony performed for them free).

Though the child in her womb died due to complications caused by malnutrition, and she had not been able to take in, he unlike his tribal men decided not to get married to another woman but chose to pregnant girls outside and abandons them to their fate. He never wanted an extra mouth to feed.

“Alhaji, ka abincin karyawa” (Alhaji, here is your breakfast)

The woman who just stepped into his room said after doing “salama” outside.

“Na gode” (thank you)

He barely looked up as he devoured the food like it was going to escape him. He had gone round all the houses he had built collecting rent money as is his practice which he normally does at the beginning of each month. He had threatened fire and brimstone to those who told him to come back the next day and had even taken the extra step of slapping Papa Emeka, the husband of Emily. He had built each house each time money came in and made sure he lived in all of them before finally moving to the present house he is occupying.

“Ma’sha Allah” (this one is tricky o --- it is said at the end of every meal)

He said raising his two hands towards the roof. He coughed to clear his throat and spat the phlegm to a corner of the room before standing up to go ease himself in the bathroom. He spent some time there admiring his member before finally stepping out of the bathroom. He looked to the sky taking note of the time of the day, the direction of the wind and how much cloud had gathered. All this will point to his mission being successful or not.

If you nor finish this story na me go kill you

The sun was already up and burning when Mustapha decided it was time to rest even though Papa Emeka wanted to continue cutting woods. They were high up on the hill of Karabula, a hill that overlooked the town of Madalla. Though the hill appears steep from an onlooker's view, it was easy to climb if you know your footing. The hill is blessed with numerous dried trees in the steepest region that only those with the bravest of hearts could venture to. That was where Papa Emeka and Mustapha had chosen to work that day since the other trees were still fresh and government had posted law enforcement agents there to prevent people from stripping the hill of all the trees. Though the policemen presence seemed everywhere, they too don't venture to the steep part, not once nor twice had they seen someone falling helplessly with a loud scream before plunging to his death. None had survived the rocky ground of the hill, all the policemen do is to identify the victim, tag the body and deposit it in the popular AMINCO hospital before the relatives come to claim it.

"Fafa Emeka, you don't have to kill yourself, if you die today, how will I pack all this firewood?"

Mustapha asked with the intention of provoking Papa Emeka into resting.

"See, you won't understand, today that I braved it to come and cut woods here, I won't allow you to deny me the pleasure of making more money."

Papa Emeka answered while panting as his strength was concentrated on felling the tree that he was working on. How Papa Emeka came to be called Papa Emeka, Mustapha wondered. His son who doesn't look one bit like him is not named Emeka. Well, he decided to ask him.

"Fafa Emeka, why are you called Fafa Emeka instead of Fafa Ugochukwu?"

Mustapha asked the umpteenth after he was ignored the first and subsequent times.

"See Musty, your plan will not work here, just allow me be."

Papa Emeka cursed under his breath.

"Waiyo, see folice are coming oooo"

Mustapha screamed unusally loud making Papa Emeka pause his work to give him a long dose of curses. Mustapha cared less because his aim was achieved as Papa Emeka decided to rest a little too before going back to his work. Papa Emeka had dropped the axe and walked towards Mustapha his shoulder drooping like his energy had finished with the last swing of the axe.

"Mustapha, sometimes I wonder how we come to become friends considering how your people kill my people down north"

Papa Emeka lamented as he took a space beside Mustapha.

"Let them kill themselves, the funny thing is I would have killed you by now if it was down north and you would never have trusted me."

Mustapha was a sarcastic bigot but none of his sarcasm provoked Papa Emeka since he was used to it.

"Yes, I know that's why I always look at you warily each time you get angry. You people are used to expressing yourselves with daggers than with words."

Papa Emeka countered him. There was a little silence between them as each of them seemed to be engulfed in his own thoughts.

"Hmmm, Papa Emeka, I have been thinking of asking you this question for a very long time."

Mustapha said in a silent voice obviously unlike striking the interest of Papa Emeka in whatever question he wanted to ask.

"We've been struggling for so long yet we have nothing to show for it. No matter how hard we try to save, we end up paying debts we had incur in the months with the money."

Papa Emeka was reasoning in the same line, he too have been having sleepless nights because of the matter so he just nodded his head to allow Mustapha continue with what he was saying.

"Are you sure we are not cursed?"

Mustapha finally rounded up with an awkward question. Papa Emeka looked at him turning the last question in his head before answering.

"Mustapha, I think we have rested enough for the day, let's bring this tree down, remember that we still need to split it for easy carriage and sale."

Papa Emeka said standing up immediately. He still had that question in his mind and he definitely was going to get an answer for that. Mustapha followed prompt albeit grudgingly, he knew he had offended his friend with his little speech which will make the rest of the day boring but then he just had to speak his mind out.

Hours later saw Mustapha and Papa Emeka headed down the hill with huge chunks of firewood between then which they carried easily by constructing a make-shift stretcher of two straight woods which was tied with strips of tree backs. They headed down cautiously so as to avoid a slip, made their way past the policemen who greeted them and headed straight to the market where they know people will be eager to buy wood from them.

More updates,please?

foxzee419@2go
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dont keep me waiting........

Short of words

sambroose: Front seat tinz ...........I go com bak com read am, but guy no fuckup o

oya b4 I open my eyez make u don comot 4 my space (Front seat). because I go buy pop corn u come take advantage abi. Oya ale le. @ foxybone if u run away dis tym.......I swear??.

Today is 30th ... Better come out here and update ... Or else

"Walahi this is sweet, kai... Emily you are za bomb walai"

Balewa said as he panted on top of Emily who closed her eyes to allow everything pass by. The old bed was croaking but Emily found it hard to decipher between the sound of the bed or the sound of the joint movement of the dirty old man on top of her. She knew she was being unfaithful to her husband but then that was the only way should could help in putting food on the table since she had no formal education.

"Gashi (take), use it to take care of my child"

Balewa said as he adjusted the "tazuge" (a kind of rope used as a waist band in hausa styled trousers) breathing in and out. Sure he had exacted enough energy but then it was worth every step of the way. He was attracted to Emily in a strange way, maybe because she never put up any resistance each time he comes. The only time she had shown some form of resistance was when he had first approached but since he had his way, it had been a smooth ride through.

"Alhaji, please come and start going, my husband might come in any moment from now"

Emily said as she covered her exposed chest with the only piece of wrapper she had. Her bosom still stood firm despite the fact that Alhaji always took a keen interest in it. (Not trying to digress, this is not an erotic write-up).

"Haba Emily, if he comes, you know I can say I came to look for him"

Balewa answered baring his kolanut stained teeth. Emily turned repulsively away, the sight of the old man sickens her but poverty is something that pushes one to the extreme to put body and soul together.

"You came looking for him inside the inner room eh? Biko, come and start going"

Emily was beginning to get impatient.

"Okay, okay, don't get all worked up"

Balewa answered as he backed out of the room to the part of the house that is partitioned as the living room. Using the word living room for that space is an abuse to whoever invented that word because the room was far from living, it should be named "dead-room". From the crooked, termite infested chair, unswept floor, rag hanging loosely as the curtain up to the cobweb filled ceiling. Everything stank but Balewa never minded once the stimulant "Maganin Bura Tashi" he always took before coming to Emily's place started working.

"If your husband should come, tell him I came to check for him"

Balewa said winking before backing out of the room.

"Please go"

Emily's voice was teary. As soon as Balewa backed out of the room and she heard his footstep back out of the compound, she broke down and wept, her tears flowing freely like they had gathered there for many days. Her lips shook as wave after wave of pains surged through her body but then those were the only antidote to the pain she felt within as she could not kill herself.

She felt a gentle tug on her side that made her jump and wipe her face before turning to face who ever had tugged her. Looking at her with eyes shiny and teary too was her son Ugochukwu, his innocence showed with the way he searched her face for explanations as he had heard her silent sobs and her bloodshot eyes were a testimony against his mother.

"Mama, did he hurt you again?"

Ugochukwu displayed innocence but the mother did not find it funny. She smacked him hard on the face and shoved him away from her like he was a kid infected with a communicable disease. Ugochukwu landed heavily on his backside and bust in a shrill cry, his little mind confused as ever. He had always noticed how his mother treated him each time the angry looking old man comes and goes. Never once had she been happy after his departure and today that he had summoned enough courage to ask his mother, she had smacked him. Why would mother beat him, he had not soiled himself, neither had he come back to the house with gutter on his body.

"Go outside and play with your friends"

Emily more of commanded than ask her son. She loved him truly but each time Alhaji visited, she would always be filled with guilt that she would wish she could turn back the hands of time to the day she discovered she had taken in. How she knew the Pregnancy wasn't her husband's baffles even her. The coming of the child had further confirmed her fears because he came out looking fair and frail with a cute little face which was a stark contrast to her and her husband's own. The child bore a stark resemblance to the landlord. Her husband had looked at the child only once and turned away from the room which still had the smell of blood in it. Since that day he had kept mostly to himself while she was left to live with the guilt. Even though he never questioned her and still treated the child like his, she knew that deep within him were questions and actions waiting to burst.

"O God, please help me"

She said a silent prayer as she stood up to go take her bath before her husband comes back from the days work. Her prayer could have been answered if she believed in it her self for she knew that God truly was far from her and redeeming her was something that needed more than grace to accomplish.

Ah ahn... I'm still following this thread?

**unfollows**

Ure inconsistent man.............abi dem use suspense swear for u ni ..........come update this thing o

*following*

Foxybone is my best Nairaland writer... He paints my imagination with pictures and his words are really thrilling to read. Gosh!!!!!!!

Br3nd4: Ah ahn... I'm still following this thread?

**unfollows**

foxy no mind am jhor

Alright let see how it goes