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Hello fellow Nairalanders. This is my first novel on Nairaland, I would appreciate useful criticisms and corrections.

For Priscillia

CHAPTER ONE
On the beige coloured couch, positioned awkwardly away from the tellie, Lanre sat even more awkwardly, his face buried in a book with shining lettering in its cover identifying it as Ventriloquism Simplified by S. D. Larson. Lanre had seen the book on a dusty, clearly forgotten shelf in the public library, and had started reading the book with the vague hope that that rare talent would fall on him. He had however disillusioned himself from that thought 319 pages after and was only still reading the 568-pager for the beautiful language used.

Beside his once-truly-yellow couch, his hand-me-down BlackBerry Bold 2 vibrated angrily on top of a dilapidating stool, the only survivor from a set made in the 80s, after his parents' marriage.

Whatsapp, he thought, a discernable smile playing on his features, breaking his face into a rather unnatural appearance-a semblance of joy. Whatsapp meant Oluchi Okafor, the only being on earth that could make this poor lad near, if not be in, happiness.

Are you here? her message read.

Lanre knew she was talking about her party, the one she had kissed and promised him 'more of that', to come.

He wasn't going though, not on his life. Too many factors were against him, so much it seemed,to sound biblical, the lines were falling, but this time around, in unpleasant places.

He immediately wished he hadn't hastily read the message. He could have said he forgot, hadn't seen the message but no thanks to instant messaging that wasn't possible. She would, by now, have seen two blue ticks, indicating he had seen her message.

What excuse can I give, he thought scratching his bushy haired head.

Lanre believed he could give excuses because he had, a number of times, gotten away with it. This was definitely not the first time Oluchi was throwing a party and inviting him.
And this is not the first time I am standing her up, he thought feeling notorious albeit sad.

We had vigil. No.

Mum suddenly fell ill. No.

I had to babysit my younger ones, actually my cousins since you know I don't have younger ones. Used it before.

My house was burglarised and we were robbed and my dad shot. Too absurd.

He'ld think something up, he had only to ignore this message and lie convincingly when she saw him.
Ah, he didn't deserve her, he had thought this the moment they started dating and he was thinking it now. He didn't deserve her.

As he got up and stretched his whole 6ft 2, arms almost reaching the ceiling, a thought, one that had never occurred to him so strongly, struck him like a thief lurking in the dark. Simple words: why not.

Why couldn't he go really, because he was eighteen and way too young, according to his old fashioned parents, to attend a party 'unsupervised'-their own words, much less a night party?

Because he didn't possess anything 'wearable', his friends' word for fashionable? Alright he did look like someone from the early 90s anytime he donned one of his 'attires' but God, who cares.

He could go. Since his mood swings, his parents left him alone, and that meant they didn't come to check on him, anytime they went to take a pee or knock on his door to open up when they discovered he had locked it.

For the first time, he believed he could do this, and equally for the first time, he laughed. A crocked horrible sound that was quickly hushed at his brain's reminder that his parents were only asleep, not dead.

I'll be there in half an hour, he typed, hardly able to contain his excitement.

He turned off the tv, shutting up the white noise from it. The clock said 9:35, his parents had gone to bed exactly 45 minutes ago.

I can do this, he thought, speeding off to his room.
Once there,whistling an odd tone, Lanre selected his best shirt, a two-chrismases-ago Polo Ralph T-shirt which was now slightly jump, his very worn and worn out baggy jeans, and a fake Ray Bon his cousin, Tobi forgot the last time he came.

This had to do, he wouldn't bathe, that would sell him out, 'rub and shine' would do.

He dressed, still whistling that odd tone. He could hear his father's loud snorty snores, as he sneaked through the corridors towards the sitting room, Tobi's Converse Allstars sneakers, another forgotten item, in hand.

Getting to the sitting room he manoeuvred stealthily through furniture-his parlour had just too many. He opened the front door, he had not locked it, and theatrically moved outside, only to discover he had left the key inside. He went back for it. Locking the door proved a challenge for his house had one of such doors that creaked and cried at any slight provocation.

Lanre quickly jacked the door closed to reduce the noise, only then did he realise, he had not been breathing. He exhaled, locking the door with the key.

Walking towards the street, he was, for the first time since they moved into this house, grateful that it didn't have a gate.

REGENT ROYAL HOTEL
5-STAR
EXPERIENCE ANOTHER LIFE.

CHAPTER TWO
Regent Royal Hotel, the same one that boasted of 5-star everything, including 5-star internet services, in their almost minutely ads on ITV, smelled to Lanre like a year-old ice cream, and although he didn't know how year-old ice cream smelled, it had to be like this.

In his part of Benin City, hotels like this were not seen, not that he had been to any hotel before, not that his parents would allow, but he knew no such building-a six storey grand palace with annexes larger many many times than his house-existed there.

Standing there, in its spacious lobby, Lanre couldn't help feeling the odd one out, he shouldn't have come although his whole lecture house was there. He wondered how many of his mates had to sneak out of their houses to be there.

Not many, he believed.

The hotel made him think of Uncle Chima, his mother's brother who just return from Canada. Lanre remembered his mum complaining about having to use a hotel to do a welcome party for her brother. It was the cost she was really concerned about, definitely, she would not have wanted to host such a party at her 'very neat', 'well furnished', 'well painted' parlour. She could not have lived with the shame.

Rumour had it, and Lanre wished this one would be true, that his uncle had actually come home for him. To take him back to Ontario for educational purposes, noone was telling him anything, but the now constant family meetings said many. He however knew better than to get his hopes up.

"Hey, you truly came, thought you were joking o."

Lanre turned to see the beautiful Oluchi in red velvet, hip-clinging dress.

Okay, she wasn't really that beautiful, her sharply shaped nose and tiny eyes made her a fairer-think Tonto Dike- version of Adaora Ole. Plus that forehead, nah she wasn't pretty.

But according to Nigerian speak, she packaged. And had the full front and no lesser in the back. And her father owned this hotel as well as a budding transport company covering southern and western Nigeria.

"I wonder what you mean by regent royal, not a very proper name, if you ask me."

He was nervous, she had seen him first,giving her ample time to mask her surprise, disgust and any other feeling she must have had seeing him dressed like, well a servant.

She laughed, her soft girly laugh that reminded Lanre of omelettes and bread.

"Well I was not consulted about the name, maybe I'll tell daddy to ask you before he names another hotel," she laughed on,"like dad named our dog Tonzo, what kind of name is that?" She burst into another round of omelettes and bread.

As they joked and laughed, she led Lanre into Blue Hall, a large lofty hall with Lil Kesh's Shoki blaring from the speakers.

"So what did you tell daddy, that made him allow you today?" She asked jokingly.

Although he didn't show it, that question, a joke or not, annoyed Lanre. She obviously knew he'd crept out without permission and was only mocking him. He felt like saying something harsh and working out on her.

Maybe because he wanted her to come begging, as she had done the last time they quarreled.

He liked her, maybe not as much as she did him, but he didn't understand her really. For example, he didn't understand why she used 'daddy' instead of the normal 'my dad', 'your dad' when she talked about their fathers. Did she think they were already family?

"I don't know what you are talking about," he said, gravely enough for her to get the message.

She took it smiling, brushing strands of hair away from her forehead. God, the fringe was doing a good job covering her forehead.

She let a moment of completely awkward silence pass, before saying in a small but sharp voice,"so are you going to dance or stay here looking at me?"

"You know I don't dance, did I tell you how beauteous you look tonight?" he asked, trying to divert her from urging him to dance.

That's the last thing I'll do tonight, he thought.

Lanre looked at his many classmates dancing religiously to the loud secular music blaring from the speakers.

"Hmmm, beauteous, Dr Professor, I hail o," she said obviously having enjoyed the compliment, "lets dance, noone comes to my parties, and not shake body," shaking her shoulders, rumba style.

And that stupid probing, what Lanre had even named 'why not' came again, and before he knew it, he was beside himself doing justice to Wizkid's In My Bed.

* * * * * * * *

"I never knew you were such a good dancer, God."

She was saying this, many Shoki, Etighi and Azonto steps after.

They were drinking canned Bullet, another indulgence Lanre blamed on Why Not.
The place they sat had a great view of the frenzy going on on the dance floor.

"I practice sometimes when I'm not drinking, I mean reading," Lanre was on his third can, and clearly stunned. His mind wouldn't take him to sensible things like going home.

"You were great." Lanre would later think, that Oluchi had taken something non-alcoholic for all the effect it had on her.

"Do you put things in there?" he heard himself asking, pointing at her tits.

"lol, you are almost gone, where do you live?" she said in between laughs.

"Why do you want to know?" he belged, stumbling while trying to pick something invisible from the floor.

"I'm in serious trouble," Oluchi cried mockingly, trying too get him up and in a serious tone, "We are going home."

* * * * * * * *

It took Oluchi twenty blessed minutes to get an address from Lanre who was now in stupor stage, another ten precious minutes to get him out of the hotel, with help of a male friend.

By this time, most of the party-goers had gone home, leaving their usual mess for whoever cleaned it up.

One of these days, daddy will stop my parties, she thought struggling with Lanre's body, she hadn't thought he weighed this much.

"Deba, thank you, I handle him from here," she said to the boy who had been helping her.

She'd asked security to call a taxi, and could now here its engine's purr.

"You said number ten right?" she asked his dead body for all the reply she got.

"I hope your parents will not be angry, here," she continue, giving him a bottle of warm water. He downed half of it in one swallow.

"Shut up,"she heard him say, the taxi now in view, its headlights illuminating their figures.

"She was about to announce this, when his mouth crashed into hers, kissing her weak.

His hands were strong on her arms, and she gave in to the kiss so willingly.

For all the time the kiss lasted, and she couldn't think, her mind played a familiar tone-When You Kiss Me.

Gud begining. Story luks great definitely following

CHAPTER THREE
Oluchi cradled her phone, checking for the umpteenth time, Lanre's Whatsapp status. It showed her what it had been showing her for a full day now, he'd not been online since the night of her party. He had not been anywhere public either, trust her, she checked.
The library. The lecture house. His friends' houses. His church-even though it was no time near service. The same result, they'd not seen him.
Maybe his parents grounded him, she mused, or worse, he never reached home that night.
If he didn't reply her several messages soon, she'ld just have to break that code that said a 19 yearold girl friend could not go to her male friend's house uninvited.
As she looked around her, the girly-themed decor of her room, with the stupid Miley Cyrus poster on its pink wall and the pinker bedspread matching her wardrobe, she couldn't help but think that pink had never been this dour. No, life had never been this dull. And seemingly empty.
It wasn't the kiss, or was it?
Acknowledge it, you've not been the same.
She couldn't understand it, didn't want to, but it felt good, that kiss and what it was doing to her. Like magic perhaps.
Oluchi wondered if he felt any of this. This tingling. This restlessness she felt inside. This passion to relive the kiss, to repeat...
He better feel the same way.
A thought concealed erstwhile in her heart told her to not be stupid, for it was after all a kiss inspired by the bottle, or in this case, the can. That nothing was special about it.

And it dawned, and sank her boat, the very thought. Maybe he hadn't meant anything with it. Maybe it was not even him kissing, but his intoxicated self. Maybe he'd been dreaming of someone or something else, while he kissed her unawares. But what really tore her heart was this: maybe he'll not remember.
* * * * * * * *
He remembered.
Infact the thought hunted and haunted him, yet made him smile in silliness.
It had been a moment of leaping before you look. It was his intention to kiss her, definitely he could not have kissed her without the courage and guise of beer, but he hadn't been really drunk when their mouths touched, and after that, inner explosions upon explosions, left him very sober-sober enough to sneak back into the house without as much as a sound. It had been magic.
Had been stupid too.
Because he was avoiding her now. After his hangover the morning after, he had switched off his phone for the fear of her call.
What if she didn't really want to kiss him, would she see it as an abuse? Wouldn't his action on the night of her party complicate things, sever their relationship?
Would he become to her, in her words: one of those beasts called boys who just wanted to take advantage of poor girls?
He didn't want to be that, God no!
He should have just continued to be that nice friend, who was always there for her, sucks as it may be, friendzone as it was. Now he couldn't even begin to imagine what he'll do if she was angry with him, how it'll be.

Life will lose its meaning, he decided. And life was already losing colour, what was he saying, he couldn't really imagine just being her friend, but not because it sucked, but because he was crazy about her. He needed to see her.
He got up from his bed, the springs heaving a creak of relief, looked around and realised it was almost afternoon. The previous day had been the messiest day of his life, a Saturday at that, he'd been inbetween pretending to be okay, taking care of the many chores and having to deal with a terrible headache.
He thanked God, that his mother, having seen the sign of his fatigue, had not insisted on his going to church. His parents were in church now, and wouldn't be back till 3pm.
He switched on his phone, and was greeted with 11 Whatsapp messages, all from Oluchi, all 'hi','hello','hw fr','sup'.
The time was past 11, and he refused to think as he typed the question: Can we meet?
* * * * * * * *
'Where' and 'when' were the only words Oluchi thought existed the moment she saw his message. She had been in the bathroom, her mind totally on Lanre, on his kiss. Coming out to see his message pop up on the screen seemed as if her mind was playing a trick on her, but it was still there; Can we meet?
She half expected it to disappear any moment then.
She had gone half way towards her princess size wardrobe, when she remembered she hadn't replied.
Where and when¿¡, she asked typing.
His reply was quick:
Kada Cinema.
* * * * * * *

They sat across each other, on the brightly coloured plastic seats, in the balcony of the second floor of the famous Kada Entertainment Centre.
It was his second time here, the first by incredible coincidence, but he won't tell her any of that. By God, the only reason he asked her to come here was to give her the impression that it was a regular normal thing for him. He was sure that wasn't the case for her, she could afford to come here everyday if she so desired.
However, coming here meant spending money, not spending meant big falling hand. This well considered, Lanre had taken, to put it in absolute truth, his life savings along. Because things at Kada cost many times more than things outside. He once heard a bottle of Coke was N300, he really didn't want to find out how true that was.
"Usually when I come here," she was saying, "I buy snacks outside, their things are deadly expensive but since we didn't, I assume we are not eating"
"Says who?" Lanre said, he couldn't be sure what she meant, if she was testing him, he didn't want to fail, "I'm sure we can get something here."
"I wouldn't bother if I were you, besides,I'm not hungry, only said it incase of next time," She was looking out into Sapele Road, and Lanre could tell she was sincere.
They looked at each other, and at times, at other people, as the talked. Both laughing at things that were really not funny. Both wanting to talk about the night of her party, the kiss,but avoiding it all together.

After a very long while, Lanre, fed up with dodging, broached the issue.
"look, about that night," her eyes were glistening, it was already mid-afternoon, and the sun had done something magical to the shaded balcony.
"Yeah, that night," she interrupted, sounding anxious.
"I wasn't drunk when I kissed you, and I meant it," his heart was literarilly in his mouth, he couldn't believe he was saying this, but he went on, "Now if you don't want to have a relationship with me, this is the best time to say so," he swallowed, "If that be the case, I'll walk out of here and never talk to you in my life again."
Oluchi's expression passed from shock to incredulity to a surprising smile.
"Really?" she joked, in a seductive tone, "can you really never talk to me again?"
Lanre shook his head swallowing hard, of course he couldn't, twas only bravado. He looked at her expectantly.
"Of course genius, I want you in my life, and I want that" she smiled, pointing at his mouth.
"Instead of saying something totally cliche like, be careful what you wish for, I'm gonna kiss you," he said mimicking an American accent and advancing towards her, he took her lips and pushed his tongue, just as he had been fantasizing.
His usual self would have considered how untoward it was for him to be kissing in public but this him didn't just care, even liked it.
* * * * * * * *

Oluchi couldn't stop swooning in the taxi taking her home. Lanre had insisted on paying, and had bought her expensive chocolate amidst her protest. Lanre was such an incredibly hot boyfriend, he had grown from whatever idea she had of him, to the finest, sexiest, most handsome boyfriend there ever was in hours.
It was a few minutes past four, their rendezvous had been cut short by a phone call from Lanre's mum, clearly, she wasn't too happy her boy was not at home. Well, Mummy Lanre shouldn't hear of his exploits and conquerings.
He is your boy ma, Oluchi thought, but he is my man. A real man, at that.

Nix

CHAPTER 4
They both aspired to be lawyers, or at least students of law, for different reasons. For Lanre, his sense of justice and natural eloquence was a sign that law was what his creator desired for him. And beside, there wasn't really another respected art course he knew well.
For Oluchi, it was the uniform, that starched white and black in the university, and that black gown and blonde wig in the court of precious law.
And besides, it was her beau's course too. Another sign it was the right course, she felt.
If anything, Oluchi sensed her decision to study law was callous, her reasons were not reasons enough nor reasonable, yet she refused to consider other options.
Perhaps, it was because of the security her father's wealth provided. If tomorrow, she became a lousy law student and consequentially a lousy lawyer, she still had the wealth and connection of daddy to fall back on. And it greatly troubled her, she had never been one to hide behind wealth or bask in its unfair privileges, she'd always been proud of her modesty.
* * * * * * * * *
It was a Sundayish Saturday evening, six days since Oluchi said yes to him and three hours since he last saw her. His disappearing acts that saw to his seeing her everyday was now getting unbearable for Mama Lanre, who had threatened to call the attention of stern Papa Lanre, who was a no nonsense disciplinarian with 25 years teaching and of course, disciplining experience.

I would have to join the prayer band then, Lanre thought, sitting in the only comfy piece of furniture in their cramped parlour. In order to have an excuse to leave this house, I'ld have to join the prayer band.
The smell of his mum's piquant stew wafted into the sitting room, teasing his nostrils, which in turn teased his stomach. It was yet another family meeting, except today was a Saturday and his presence was required.
This, his mother cooking stew on Saturday instead of the usually Sunday afternoon after service, was in preparation for another family gathering. Uncle Chima was coming yet again for, what Lanre was now convinced was, permission to take him abroad. He, Lanre was thinking about the prospect of his going to Canada with his uncle. He wasn't looking forward to it, he decided, and it was not his village witches at work, as Osas his friend had suspected when he told him, it was Oluchi. He couldn't leave her. Since he had started dating her, he was beginning to feel like an adult-feel that responsibility they owed to loved ones.
Playfully,or so it may have seemed to Oluchi, they had begun to plan their lives together, and Canada was, most unfortunately, not part of the plan. He would sometimes see it, as in a vision, as they talked about how many kids they'll have.
Lanre hadn't had a way about it, but their relationship was beginning to look post-marital and Lanre feared that to Oluchi, it was all a joke.

He wasn't joking, he now understood the seemingly theatrical romance in Telenovelas. Love was stupid and irrational, or more correctly it made people stupid and irrational. And Oluchi, he was sure, felt something for him. What could a rich, nice, fair girl like her,who could make many boys have the hots for her, want from him, if it wasn't love?
And the way she looked at him, he'd only seen that look once before. On his mother's face, looking at her husband on their wedding photogragh that hung on the wall of their sitting room. That expression, its said: I'm clearly smitten.
Lanre felt, more than saw, his father coming into the parlour. And he adjusted intuitively, relaxing less and looking busy and serious.
Mr Adeshina was a slim figure in large-size green wornout polo, that made him look vulnerable, and ash-colour vicker trousers, and bathroom slippers, his at-home uniform. His belly ever so slightly bulging. He was handsome in an offbeat style with his greying hair receding at the corners, somewhat watery red eyes deceitfully suggesting harmlessness. After God, Lanre feared his father, and no one else.
His dad was a man of few words. Lanre couldn't remember his father ever complaining about anything or nagging, never shared personal things with him as did his mother, and this, in Lanre's mind, removed the human in his dad. Plus Lanre knew silent people were deadlier. His father, for example never asked him to read his book, he only took action when result came.

And Lanre was terrified of action beyond words, he venerated his dad and did whatever he said, and most times what he didn't even voice.
His mother walked into the sitting room, a fair woman with body that could only be defined with one word, supple. He often times imagined Oluchi aging like this. To him, all Igbo women aged gracefully.
"Chima will be here any minute, and I have only just started boiling the rice," she said to her husband, standing across from him, "if only oga here will help out." She didn't mean it, she never allowed Lanre into the kitchen to cook, unless he was cooking only for himself.
Lanre thought he saw loathing pass through his father's face, his dad did not like Uncle Chima, simply because a young Chima had shunned his advice to get a B.sc before going abroad. Chima had gone abroad without any degree anyway, and his father who valued education still resented him for that.
* * * * * * * * *
Uncle Chima, whose cologne Lanre perceived from many houses away, came bearing gifts. He had been at their house many times since he got back, at every visit Lanre had been in his room, his mother having instructed him not to come out. Apparently, his parents lied that he was on holiday.
Uncle Chima had come back with suspicious wealth that even his sister had begun feeling a little mistrust for him.
Dressed in a tan colour blazers, with black polo and black carrot trousers, he looked a bit overdress; maybe it was the red pocketfiller.

He was glittering, with fair skin, sparkling gold chain, and relaxed curly hair, styled in a rather boyish fashion, that glistened under the fluorescent bulb of their dinning room.
"Hey, haw you doing?" he had asked Lanre the minute he set his eyes on him. He spoke with Canadian affectation.
He ate, scraping the spoon with his teeth and sweating profusely. He said "Pass me the salt," and "Can I get more water" a little too animatedly, as they ate. Through out dinner, Mr Adeshina said little.
After the meal, Uncle Chima pull off his blazers and sat, legs spread, on the only comfortable chair in the parlour, the one near the noisy, ancient air conditioner. Uncle Chima tried to engaged his brother-in-law in conversation. And he succeeded on the subject of religion. Meanwhile, Lanre and his mum sat mutely, their sofa, in between, Papa Lanre's armchair and Uncle Chima's couch. His mum, changing channels and he, dying to go back to his room, where he'd kept the Ps 3 his uncle brought for him. His uncle also brought clothing items for him, a phone each for his parents.
Toby, will die when he hears about his new game, he thought of his cousin.
"Christianity is this country's greatest problem,"his uncle pronounced boisterously, his Igbo tongue betraying his fake Canadian accent."In Canada, there are some schools of thought who believe there's no God, here we cloak ourselves under Christianity."

"I think it's rather sad that some people," his father began speaking, his voice low and in deep contrast with his uncle's, "who think they have attained a level of great intelligence, can wake up one morning and claim that there's no God, this fashion is getting popular amongst the erudites and deep thinkers, and it's saddening."
Uncle Chima paused, taking a deep breath, obviously he thought Papa Lanre would agree with him.
"I mean, but you have to agree it's a problem, uncle," Uncle Chima said, his tone showed someone who respected Papa Lanre's view, but also wanted to prove a point. "I mean how many people go to church just to serve God, the Christian whites, where I live, worship God without asking anything from him. Here, people don't praise or worship sincerely anymore, they come to ask God for one thing or the other."
"What possibly could there be asking for?" Lanre's father asked reasonable, although he truly didn't think whites people didn't ask God for anything, "they've got social security, artificial insemination,best medical solution, constant power and what not."
"Uncle, it is black blood," Lanre's uncle tattled on, "even if we had everything, we'll still be like this, insatiable, Lanre what do you think?"
Lanre didn't think he heard right, had his Canadian uncle just asked him to contribute? He turned to his mum for clarity, but she was busy with the programme on the tellie.

"What did you ask me to get you?" he asked sounding distracted, totally sure he hadn't heard right.
"Mbanu," his uncle said mockingly, "I was saying... Never mind."
Lanre was disappointed, if only his uncle had requested his thoughts again, he would have said his mind. For people to come and ask God for things, surely that meant they believed in Him and His omnipotent powers. Wasn't that the most important thing? And blacks praised God better in his own view. Didn't God want loud praises, with cymbals and harps? Like they did in church?
They drifted to other issues, all ending with Uncle Chima inferring the superiority of the whites. Later,after he left,Papa Lanre would remark that that was what semi-illiteracy did to people.
There was absolute silence as his uncle said, "Over to the matter I have come here for."
Lanre hadn't really grasp the idea of traveling to North America, his uncle's presence sort of made it real. And he thought that only a fool will refuse to travel abroad because of love. Wasn't there long distance relationships? Did people's love die because they are geographical apart? Of course not. He secretly thanked God he hadn't said anything about Canada to Oluchi.
Then he entertained a thought that froze, of all things, his bowels: what if his father said it wasn't possible?

He looked as his father's dark inscrutable expression as his uncle talked.
"...who can help, and he said he would, all Lanre needs to do is take the SATs and pass, and he would have a scholarship, he would enjoy it, I stay in Toronto, and we may even cross border to Detroit for a weekend."
Lanre's mum nodded excitedly, as though to prod Lanre's father into the scheme.
"Uncle," Uncle Chima continued, "if you see small small Nigerian children there studying, some use to carry akpo in 9ja, but as soon as they get there, they top their class, so one day I called my sister, 'how is my nephew' I said," his voice matching his theatrics, "and she was praising him, 'he does well in school o', this and that, so I wondered how possible it will be for my only nephew to study abroad, my loving sister and brother-in-law's child, these people who made it possible for me to travel abroad in the first place," he relaxed into a climax, "so uncle it is not news, my sister said she has told you, you know how Nigerian things can be, JAMB will jam you, Post you-emu-e, will refuse to post you, and at the end it is foreign educated people they give jobs."
Lanre knew his mother's handiwork when he saw it, her cunning, her manipulation was very apparent, he imagined her threatening her brother to come and take her son abroad, he knew for sure his father will say yes now.
"Well as you said, my wife has told me , and we have come to a conclusion that it is not a bad idea," his mother tugged him joyously

His father seemed serious as he continued, "but there is one thing you'll assure me, you'll look at your nephew closely, you know, they are terrible vices that go on abroad, smoking, sagging, cursing, make sure he doesn't make bad friends..."
"Ah ah, Wole," Mama Lanre said, calling him by his first name, "don't you trust your son, he is well behaved now."
After some minutes of lecturing, Papa Lanre,excused himself, he was going to bed.
It was past nine when Uncle Chima finally left, his sister packed Ukpoka-corn pudding- for him, and she and Lanre saw him off.

Kip d updates coming #nyc chapter

Tomtoxic:
Kip d updates coming #nyc chapter

thanks, I'll try