Story Source: www.bussydave.com.ng
Long Distance Relationship………. Episode 1
It is one thing to be cheated and know it, but it is another thing to be cheated and not know it. Tobi had been cheated of a husband and his name was Mayowa. It did not matter that they were just dating when they parted ways. She knew they were headed for the altar.
Tobi and Mayowa had known each other for five years, with four of those years spent together in the same university, before Folake came into the picture. Tobi still could not believe that Folake, her best friend, was the reason she and Mayowa were no longer together. Folake the go-between, who Tobi had sent as an emissary to Paul in Abuja to give him letters, had stolen her man from her.
If Tobi was going to be honest, she would acknowledge that things between her and Mayowa had been rocky for months before Folake came fully into the picture.
Tobi’s friendship with Folake dated all the way back to their university days, even though they went to different schools: Tobi went to the University of Lagos (UNILAG), while Folake attended Olabisi Onabanjo University in Ogun State (OOU).
Folake had met Mayowa on different occasions and was informed to all the details that best friends typically share with each other. After graduation, Mayowa had moved to Ogun State for his youth service, while Tobi stayed in Lagos. Folake also served in Lagos. However, it was after their youth service that the strain on their relationship became obvious.
Almost immediately after completing his youth service, Mayowa had gotten a job working as an Auditor at FBN Insurance in Abuja. If the National Youth Service had made their long-distance relationship seem like a temporary thing, this new job in Abuja made it indefinite. Tobi did all she could to find a job in Abuja, all to no avail. Even the job applications she sent to companies and organizations in Lagos and other parts of the country were rejected. It seemed like the whole universe had conspired to keep them apart, but Tobi was determined to make things work with Mayowa.
She pressed on in spite of Mayowa’s non-challant attitude to the situation at hand. He called less often and blamed it on work, and Tobi, willing to believe anything took him at his word. During that period, Folake was offered a job with a marketing firm in Abuja, which required frequent travel from Lagos to Abuja. So, she was in Lagos every other week. Tobi, who saw this as an opportunity to communicate with her passive boyfriend, began writing love letters to Mayowa. She wrote almost every day, pouring out her heart to Mayowa, updating him on what was going on at home and telling him how much she missed him. How she was able to do this on several sheets of paper every single day, without boring herself was amazing. But with all the free time she had on her hands, coupled with the fact that she expressed herself better on paper, it was effortless. So Tobi wrote, and Folake delivered these handwritten epistles to Mayowa whenever she was in Abuja. Sometimes Mayowa wrote back, and other times, he was ‘too busy’ to reply. But, he always managed to tell Folake to say hello to Tobi.
It was around this time that Folake told Tobi that she was seeing a guy called Jide. And that was all she told Tobi. No amount of persuading and begging for more details could make Folake part with more information on this mystery man. “This guy sha … I will meet him one day.” That was what Tobi always ended those sessions with whenever Jide’s name was mentioned.
The strangest thing was that she finally met him, a few days shy of the 6- month mark of Mayowa’s relocation to Abuja. During the Eid-el-Fitr holiday, when Mayowa finally got a few days off from work, he came to Lagos. Tobi was of course, excited and had prepared in advance to see him. She had wanted to throw him a mini-party and cook for him, but he had coldly turned down her offer when she told him over the phone.
They had agreed to meet at Tantalizers for lunch, with Mayowa refusing every attempt of Tobi to come and visit him at his house. She had actually tried to visit but he was not at home. Or at least, that was what the gateman told her. Tobi was the first to arrive at the restaurant, and she waited for almost an hour past the time they had agreed to meet. Mayowa eventually showed up and apologized for keeping her waiting. And then, without even sitting down, he gave her a one-sentence break-up speech. “I’m not feeling this anymore and I think we should go our separate ways.”
Tobi asked him over and over again for an explanation, wanting to know what was going on. The only response Mayowa gave her was “I met someone.” He left Tobi standing there and went back to his car, supposedly to fetch the “someone.” He returned less than two minutes later, with Folake in his arm.
Tobi almost fainted. The rest was a blur, but she remembered Folake saying she did not plan to hurt Tobi, and Mayowa telling Folake to stop being apologetic for their relationship. That was the last time she laid eyes on both of them.
Later, she received an invitation card from Folake, asking for her presence at her wedding. Beforehand, she had sent a text message begging Tobi to attend her bridal shower. She really had the gut! Tobi had ignored that text, just like she had ignored all of Folake’s calls, texts, emails and other efforts at reconciliation. Now, it was the day before the bridal shower, and Tobi was at home battling serious depression. As she slipped in and out of a period of despair, she thought up different ways to pay Folake back for her betrayal. “I am sure there is a special place in hell for best friends who steal their friends’ boyfriends. You’ll go there soon enough,” Tobi muttered to herself. Ironically, she did not extend the same ill wishes to Mayowa who was at the center of the whole affair. (Love has blindfolded her eyes)
Just then, someone knocked on the door, prematurely halting her unforgiving thoughts.
Who was it? Checkout in the next episode. – to be continued –
Source: www.bussydave.com.ng/2015/12/story-long-distance-relationship-episode-1/

Anyone following?

Yea, am following. More

Long Distance Relationship…Episode 2

It was her father who called….“Look Tobi, it is taking too long to get a
job here in Lagos. Your mother and I have discussed this. Go to Asaba
and stay with your uncle, Fashola. He has connections there and might
be able to get you a job. At least, you won’t be among strangers. I know
you don’t want to leave Lagos because of your friends, but you can–“
“Papa, I’ll go to Asaba. When can I leave?”
“Ah, I’m surprised o. I thought you didn’t want to leave Lagos.”
“There is nothing left for me in Lagos, Papa. I’m ready to leave.”
“Okay then, you can go tomorrow.”


That was how Tobi left for Asaba on the day Folake was having her
bridal shower.
Tobi’s uncle, Chief Fashola, was a kind-hearted person, with a face that
matched his heart. He believed that life was to be enjoyed in the
company of others. So, he surrounded himself with people, and was
well-connected and well-known in Asaba. He had worked at the Delta
State Ministry of Works and Housing for almost ten years, rising through
the ranks.
But his ambition outgrew the civil service, and he left to devote himself
full-time to the business he had been partially devoted to: importing and
exporting Italian furniture. His wife, Priscillia, was a former beauty
queen, having won the Miss Delta State title at one time.

Although the
title was in the past, that youthful beauty was barely touched by time,
and she looked just as radiant as she did back then.
Her uncle had told Tobi’s father that Auntie Priscillia would meet
Tobi at the motor park. So, Tobi had taken an early bus, leaving Lagos at
around 7 am, and arrived in Asaba just a few minutes shy of 3 p.m. The
journey had taken almost 8 hours.
As soon as the bus arrived in Asaba and after Tobi had secured the single
travelling bag she brought with her, she went in search of a light snack.
There was a woman selling Plantain Chips close to where the luxury
buses were parked. Tobi approached her and asked how much she sold
her Plantain Chips in a rude manner. The woman looked at her like she had just uttered a
curse word, and Tobi quickly corrected herself.

“Madam, well done ma! How much is your Plantain Chips?”
That did the trick. She paid 50 naira and sat on a bench beside the
plantain chips seller, munching away. She had just put another slice of
chips in her mouth when a newspaper vendor walked past her carrying
some bunch of newspaper. Maybe it was the bright red t-shirt the vendor
was carrying or just the need to fix her gaze on something other than the
typical motor park regulars. Whatever it was, Tobi caught sight of the
newspaper headlines, which read:

ABA RAPIST BELIEVED TO BE IN ASABA

“You must be kidding me,” Tobi thought to herself. “Of all the times for
a rapist to be in town, it had to be when I was visiting.”
Turning to the woman who sold the chips to her, she proceeded to pump
her for more information. The woman did not seem in the least bit
interested in chatting about criminals, and made her reluctance obvious.
Tobi gave up after two failed attempts, and decided that she would buy a
copy of the paper herself. No sooner had she decided on this, than she
heard a familiar voice shouting her name:
“Tobi! Tobi!”
It was Auntie Priscillia who had spotted her and was briskly making her
way to Tobi. At this point, she knew her short stay at the motor park was
over. She gathered her belongings, got up and was about to leave.
Suddenly, seized with an unexplainable boldness, she turned to the
chips seller, said in a low tone:

“The chip no sweet sef! Mtcheww!”

Without turning back to watch the woman’s reaction, she quickly ran
towards her Auntie. Something about this city was excite.
Auntie Priscillia was the first person to meet Tobi at the motor park
when she arrived in Asaba. After exchanging pleasantries and greeting
her warmly, they entered the green Toyota Land cruiser that had
conveyed Auntie Priscillia to the motor park, and left to go home.

Auntie was chatting excitedly, telling Tobi about the many pranks of her
two youngest daughters, who were still in secondary school, and lived at
home.
“Can you imagine? We caught Mary jumping the fence, the other day!
Your cousin, Mary now sneaks off to parties at night. Her sister, Chikodi
… Ahn ahn! Tobi, why are you crying?” Auntie Priscillia asked in alarm.
“It’s nothing, Auntie,” Tobi lied. Just mentioning the word ‘party’
triggered off a boat-load of memories of the ones she and
Mayowa attended together. They were almost inseparable. And now …

“Come on, Tobi. It’s me now. You know you can tell me anything,”
Auntie Priscillia cooled. Tobi was not sure about that. If her cousins
felt like they could not approach their mother to ask for permission to go
to a party, then what on earth made the same woman approachable on the
issue of relationships?

Tobi dried her tears and kept quiet.
“You don’t want to tell me, abi? Or are you shy because of Godwin? He’s
just the driver. What can he do? Shebi it’s between you and me?” Auntie
Priscillia continued. Tobi knew her aunt very well. She would not drop
the matter, but would persist till she got the answers she wanted. So, she
finally gave in.

“Mayowa broke up with me. He left me for Folake. She was my best
friend, and … and … they’re getting married!” Tobi broke down crying
again. Her aunt pulled her close and comforted her.

“It’s okay, my dear,” Auntie said. “It might seem like it’s the end of the
world, but it isn’t. If he left you for another person, he wasn’t really
yours in the first place.”

Tobi kept crying, and Auntie continued her counseling.
“But he left you for your best friend? That is wickedness. In fact, both
of them are wicked. Oya stop crying now, stop crying. Another man will
come–“

“No, Auntie. I don’t want another man. I want Mayowa!” Tobi moaned,
in between her tears. This was the first time she had allowed herself to
grieve openly since Mayowa left her. She had put up a front for so long.
But now, it felt good to just let it all out and cry.
Tobi cried for a few more minutes, during which time Auntie
Priscillia promised her that things would work out for her good. Maybe
coming to Asaba was a setup for a new chapter in her life, Auntie
reasoned. By the time they reached the house, Tobi had started to
believe her.

– to be continued – Please stay tune!

Source: www.bussydave.com.ng/2015/12/story-long-distance-relationship-episode-2/

wat a beautiful story u've got here. Op tanks 4 sharing,abeg keep d updates coming

virtuedagirl:
wat a beautiful story u've got here. Op tanks 4 sharing,abeg keep d updates coming

Thanks @Virtue

Am still on board.

Thanks so much @everyone
Now let's continue with the story!

Pals sincerely i can't explain what's happening....I'm receiving the message "An Error occurred please try again later" once am about posting the new episode
Please pals, what could be wrong?
Or should i just leave the link to each episodes?

Sharing d link is not bad but it up to u.

For Episode 3...Check this link www.bussydave.com.ng/2015/12/story-long-distance-relationship-episode-3/

aprilwise:
Sharing d link is not bad but it up to u.

Thanks @aprilwise...Seems this idea will work out!

Episode 4.....www.bussydave.com.ng/2015/12/story-long-distance-relationship-episode-4/

I hope people get to read this story, please try and understand me pals...Don't really like dropping links for people to follow. Would have prefer sending all the episodes here for all to read..Can't explain what's wrong

Anyone have an idea, please reply back!
Thanks for reading through pals.

Long Distance Relationship…Episode 4
“Na so e dey start,” she muttered to herself. “From ‘Hello’ to ‘I no do again.’ That’s how the story ends.” She promptly emptied the dustbin and was about to enter the house when she heard a man’s voice yelling “Hello.” It was the same guy. He had decided to vocalize his greeting this time, but Tobi’s reaction was the same. She simply ignored him and went inside. “I came to Asaba to look for a job, not to make friends,” she reasoned as she retreated indoors. Later that afternoon, one of Chief’s friends came to visit. His name was Professor Jonathan, and he taught Physics at University of Nigeria, Nsukka. Professor Jonathan was a smartly-dressed middle-aged man. Although he was dressed in traditional attire, it was easy to see how he would look in English wear. He had an air of unshakeable confidence around him, like a man who had wrestled with deep questions, and had perceived the answers by trial and error. He was in Asaba for a friend’s 60th birthday, and decided to greet Chief Fashola while he was in town. Chief was known as a very hospitable man and as was his custom, offered his friend something to drink. “Any soft drink will do,” Professor Jonathan said. Auntie Priscillia searched the house and discovered that there were no soft drinks on hand. Tobi offered to go and buy some cold drinks from a nearby shop. “But my dear, you don’t know your way around this neighborhood. Let Godwin go and buy them.” “Auntie, please let me go with Godwin. I might as well use this opportunity to learn my way around town.” Auntie Priscillia agreed and Tobi hopped into the car with Godwin. He took her to a one-storey mini-supermarket about five minutes away from the house. He parked outside, and waited for Tobi to return. “Madam, please I need to buy a crate of Coke and Fanta. Mixed. Do you have any cold drinks?” “Yes. How many you want?” the woman asked. “Twelve bottles of Coke, eight bottles of Fanta, and four bottles of Schweppes, if you have any.” “We no get Schweppes, but we get Mirinda,” the woman said, sounding apologetic. “Shuooo! How I go take buy Fanta plus Mirinda? No be the same thing dem be?” Tobi queried trying to form an igbo accent like say she sabi “No, they are not,” a male voice answered. “Fanta is made by The Coca- Cola Company, while Mirinda is made by Pepsi Co., the same company which makes Pepsi.” “Who cares? They are both orange drinks,” Tobi answered without even turning around to face the interrupter. “Come o, who be dis ITK (I TOO KNOW) sef?” she asked, her face wearing a frown. With the question still hanging in the air, she turned around and came face to face with the human encyclopedia. She recognized him immediately. It was the man she had ignored that same morning, while taking out the trash. When she saw him that morning, she only caught a slight glimpse of his face. But now that he stood within touching distance, she carefully assessed him from head to toe. Tobi was about 5′ 7”. This man appeared to be at least 2 inches taller than her. He had what Tobi later admitted was an adorable little afro, the kind that just makes you want to reach out and pat it, just to feel the softness of the hair. He had a gentle face with a bold nose that did not seem like it belonged in that face. She paused at his ears. Both ears were pierced, revealing little holes where ear-rings had once been. He looked like he was badly in need of a shave, but all that facial hair did not hide the Adam’s apple, which kept bobbing up and down whenever he swallowed or spoke. He had the build of a man who was not afraid of hard work, and could handle physical labor without whining. He was dressed casually in t-shirt and jeans, and his hands, very hairy hands, were stuck in the side pockets of his jeans. He wore blue loafers, and as Tobi’s eyes trailed all the way down from his head to his toes, and then back to his face, his lips parted in a smile, revealing gapped teeth. It was when he smiled that she saw them for the very first time: little round dimples in his cheeks, the kind that made one say a special prayer of thanksgiving to God for blessing men with dimples. They made all the difference in the world. “You’re checking me out, ehn? But this morning you didn’t even answer my greeting,” the stranger teased. Tobi did not answer. She was still enjoying the way his face came alive when he smiled. Those dimples … Hmm … Correct! “I’m Dimeji, by the way. Oladimeji Richard Bakare. Call me Richard.” Nene still did not answer. “Why does he have to introduce himself with all his names? Weirdo,” she thought. Dimeji kept talking. “Ahn ahn … Are you going to ignore me even now, when I am standing right in front of you?” he asked. A frown had twisted his brow into odd waves of skin, and the dimples made a very limited appearance as if they were shy. Tobi snapped out of her fantasy. “Oh sorry … What did you say again?” “I’m Dimeji Bakare. You can call me Richard. And you are?” “Tobi. Tobi,” she said repeatedly, smiling at of herself. “Auntie, na which mineral you want make I give you?” the woman asked. She was tired of watching this drama and just wanted to get paid. “The Mirinda is fine, Madam. Twelve bottles of Coke, eight bottles of Fanta, and four bottles of Mirinda,” Tobi replied, turning back to face the woman. “Madam, please add two cartons of Chivita, the pineapple one. I will pay for everything,” Dimeji offered. Tobi tried to convince him otherwise, but he was just persistent. “Consider it a gift, from a neighbor,” he said, as he paid for everything Tobi had purchased, including the crate of drinks. As she thanked him, he said it was his pleasure, and was about to ask her some more questions when his phone rang. He answered it and immediately burst into fluent Hausa. Tobi was shocked. The phone call lasted for just a minute, and Tobi immediately asked about his speaking Hausa. “I grew up in Kaduna. I moved to Lagos when I was about to start secondary school. Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to delay you. Your visitor will be waiting for the drinks.” “How did you know they were meant for a visitor?” Tobi asked puzzled. “I saw him entering your house as I was driving past.” “Your eyes are sharp o.” “Not as sharp as they need to be,” Dimeji replied. That last sentence further confused Tobi, and as she returned home, she wondered what he meant. She left him and returned to the car where Godwin was waiting for her. They both returned to the house. Tobi told Auntie Priscillia that a neighbor had paid for the drinks, and she was very pleased. Tobi went with a tray of drinks to serve the visitor. She knew he would only drink one bottle, but it was for the sake of variety that she presented him with three different bottles. After greeting him, he pointed to the bottle of Mirinda. She was just grabbing the bottle opener when her uncle addressed her: “Tobi, Prof and I have been talking. The friend he came to visit is the General Manager at one of the local banks. He might be able to get you a job there.” “Oh, really? Oh, that would be very nice, sir,” Tobi said in response to her uncle. Then, turning to Prof, she said almost knelt down while the words, “Thank you, sir,” escaped from her lips. Prof smiled his acknowledgment. “What course did you study in school?” Prof asked. “Business Administration, sir,” Tobi replied. “Come on, Prof. You know that even if she read Agric. Science, she can still get a job at a bank,” Chief teased. Both men laughed and the conversation switched to politics. Tobi took that as her prompt to slip away from their midst. After Prof left, Chief told her to send her CV to him by e-mail, which she did promptly. He would forward it to his contacts, including the very prospective one they had already discussed. That night, Tobi went to bed full of hope.
– to be continued –Please stay tune!

Long Distance Relationship…Episode 5

The following day, Tobi woke up still full of hope. The day was pregnant with the promise of great things, and she basked in it. She savored that warm, delightful feeling, which envelopes a person rising from sweet sleep, that sweet nothingness that entices the waker to sleep back under the covers and continue dreaming. But a noise reached her ears, forcing her to abandon any desire to go back to sleep. It was the same noise that had woken her up. “Papa, please … please … I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” a voice pleaded. “You said that last week, and the week before. Why should I believe you?” a male voice fired back in response. Wham! Wham! Wham! Tobi did not need a foreteller to tell her what was going on. Someone was getting a thorough beating, and she knew it had to be one of her cousins. What had they done this time? She quietly went downstairs, and walked into the sitting room to witness the scene that was already playing. Her uncle, was wearing a house robe, which Tobi admitted, actually made him look younger. Gone was the kind-faced man she called uncle, and in his stead was a man keen on stamping out every form of disobedience from his children. His face portrayed this determination. In his hand was a long thick cane, that looked like it had been freshly plucked from a tree because it still had a few leaves attached to it. One of her cousins, she could not tell which, was half-kneeling, half- prostrated on the floor of the sitting room, wailing in a loud voice. Her mother stood nearby, hands extending outwards, dressed in a lace blouse and wrapper and crowned with an elaborate head tie. Tobi deduced that this was Auntie Priscillia’s Sunday wear. She did nothing to withhold her husband from administering justice, but instead encouraged him more, yelling to her daughter that this was what happened to children who disobeyed their parents. Tobi walked over to her Auntie’s side and asked her what had happened. “Can you imagine? This one–” and as she said ‘this one,’ Auntie Priscillia walked over and gave the girl a knock on the head (Am sure you also received this same knock when you were young ) It was when she raised up her head in protest, that Tobi saw that it was Mary, the older of her two cousins. “This one,” Auntie continued, rejoining Tobi, “went off yesterday night, when she thought we were all asleep,” and did not come back until 6:00 a.m. this morning. 6 am!” Auntie yelled, as she made as if to attack the girl again, but Chief who was closer to Mary gave her another stroke of the cane on her back side. Mary yellled out in pain and pleaded again for mercy, but it fell on deaf ears. Tobi looked at the time. It was barely 6:15 am, and she wondered why her Auntie was already dressed up so early in the morning. “I was getting ready to go for the 7 o’ clock service,” Auntie continued, “when I remembered that Chikodi had asked me for money to buy materials for a Maths project. I came to their room to give it to her, and saw Chikodi sleeping in her room. When I asked her where Amaka was, she started stammering: ‘I-I-I don’t k-k-k-now, Mama,’ “Auntie said, mimicking her younger daughter’s voice and mannerisms. “These children think we were born yesterday,” her husband interrupted, still glaring at the offending child. “Yes, Papa. They do. As if I was never a teenager myself. I knew she was trying to cover for her sister. So I went and told their father, and we both waited. Papa waited at the front door and I waited at the back door. Within a few minutes, I saw her creeping in through the back door–“ “Dressed like a harlot! You see her? My own daughter, wearing mini skirt and brazier! Your bride price has reduced,” Chief said his voice heavy with anger. The mention of what Mary was wearing earned her another five strokes from her father, who beat her as if he had just heard that she stole a neighbor’s goat. The girl’s voice was now cracked from shouting, and Tobi felt sorry for her. But her parents were not done. “Foolish girl! So, it is when the news is everywhere that the Aba rapist in now in Asaba, that you decided to be going for night parties and gallivanting all over town, abi? She said she was in Agbor for a party. What if a car had hit you or the Aba rapist had finished you–” Chief began, but his wife cut him short. “Tufiakwa! God forbid. My daughters will never be raped or killed. I will not mourn any of my children o. Papa, it’s enough.” Auntie Priscillia switched gears and began to plead with her husband to forgive the naughty child. At first, he vehemently refused, but after a few minutes, he agreed. Mary ran upstairs to her room still crying. Her sister, Chikodi who had watched quietly from the top of the stairs, had also disappeared into their room. She had made herself scarce during the entire session knowing that seeing her might make her parents transfer some of the beating meant for Mary to her as well. Tobi tried to go after Mary, but she locked the door of the room behind her, putting an end to any consolation from her cousin. Tobi, who was now living in one of the spare rooms upstairs, retired to her room briefly. As she began to meditate on what just happened, she recalled that she had seen the Sunday newspaper lying on the dining table. Her uncle’s brief reference to the Aba rapist had stirred up her curiosity and she went in search of the paper. After retrieving it, she went back to her room and looked for an update on the ongoing investigation. There was a short article mentioning the cities that the rapist had struck, and they included Agbor, Onitsha and finally Aba. Some of the victims had provided the police with brief descriptions, and the paper reported that the man they were looking for wore two studs in his ears, and smelt like fish. The other descriptions they gave were common place and from what Tobi could see, they might as well have been describing any man who lived in that region: medium height, thick lips, beard, moustache, strong build. “Good luck catching him,” Tobi shrugged as she put the paper down. The report also mentioned that he had struck in Agbor the night before. Tobi could now understand her aunt and uncle’s fears for their daughters, especially since Mary had been in Agbor that night. She got up and got ready to go to church. She had no intention of going to her aunt’s church, which was a Baptist Church. Instead, she planned to attend a popular Pentecostal church on Ilukwu Ilah road, which was not too far from the house. Being that it was a Sunday, Godwin the driver was off duty, and since Tobi could not drive, she had to find her way to church alone. She walked to a street corner not far from the house and stopped an okada, which took her to church. When she got there, the service was in full swing. She thought the service was for 10am, but as it turned out, she was an hour late. A well- dressed usher shoved a bulletin into her hand, and directed her to an empty seat in the middle of a crowded row. She had barely set down her bag, so she could join in the praise and worship, when someone on the right tapped her. She turned to come face to face with her neighbor, Dimeji Bakare. She could not hide her surprise. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m not an infidel (un-believer)!” he yelled into her ear, trying to make himself heard above the noise of talented and talentless vocalists alike, singing praises to God. Tobi thought of telling him that she did not know him well enough to come to such a conclusion, and that coming to church did not mean he was a believer, but decided against it. She just smiled and shook the hand he extended to her. Less than twenty minutes later, when the woman on the pulpit asked visitors to stand up for the church to welcome them specially, Tobi and Dimeji stood up at the same time. It was his first time too? Tobi was shocked. After the service, they went with other visitors to the visitor’s parlor for refreshments and to learn more about the church. Dimeji attached himself to her, and followed her everywhere like a lost puppy. Tobi was amused. When the meeting was over, Dimeji asked if she had other plans for the rest of the day, to which she responded in the negative. “Might I interest you in lunch at Mr. Biggs?” he asked her. “Why not? Which one?” Tobi replied. “Is that a trick question? The only one of course. The one on Nnebisi road.” “That was a trick question. I’m not pleased that you didn’t fall for it.” “Oh yeah? Don’t worry. I’ll pretend to fall for the next one.” They both laughed and Dimeji led the way to his silver Toyota Camry, which had been mercilessly roasted by the sun. “So do you always take your neighbors to Mr. Biggs every Sunday?” Tobi asked, as Dimeji drove them to the restaurant. “Of course. Haven’t you heard? Father Christmas moved to Asaba, and he’s not an old man.” Tobi smiled and proceeded to ask him where his red suit was, and why he was delivering presents in August. Dimeji did not have an answer for that, but announced to her in a clear voice: “If you hang around me long enough, you’ll uncover even more secrets.” Then, he winked. That wink. It spoke of upcoming mischief and reminded Tobi of someone she used to know in primary school. The boy used to wink at her anytime she saw him stealing pencils from the store at the back of the class, which was quite often. Tobi wondered if Dimeji had ever stolen anything before, and then rebuked herself for thinking such evil thoughts of a man who was treating her to lunch.
– to be continued –
Source: www.bussydave.com.ng/2015/12/story-long-distance-relationship-episode-5/

Hope you guys are enjoying the story?
Comments please before i continue with my story

Hope demiji is not d rapist in town? Nice job well done

aprilwise:
Hope demiji is not d rapist in town? Nice job well done

We'll get to know soon!...Just watchout

Long Distance Relationship…..Episode 6

As they drove, there was a beep from Dimeji’s phone, which was in his breast pocket and he made as if to retrieve it. “What do you think you’re doing?” Tobi asked, a tinge of fear in her voice. “Don’t tell me you’re going to check your phone while you’re driving?”

“You’ve predicted my future by asking a question. O Great One, if you already knew, then why did you still ask?” Dimeji asked in a playful voice. Tobi was not smiling. “To knock some sense into your head, obviously.” “Are you saying I’m senseless?” “Your words not mine,” Tobi said, pouting like a spoilt child. “Or how else would you describe a person who fiddles with his phone while driving? There’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate on your driving.” “You mean to tell me that you don’t text, answer calls, type articles, make eba, pound yam, make akamu and even wash clothes while you’re driving?” Dimeji asked, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Tobi laughed at his effort to lighten her mood. “I don’t drive, so the answer is ‘No.’ I don’t make eba while driving. But, put me on the back of an okada, and I might even make stew to go with the eba.” Dimeji laughed. It was one of those genuine, heartfelt laughs that rise from the belly and explodes through the mouth.
“Hmmmm … But you’re clearly one of those back seat drivers,” he said, as the laughter died down. “What gave me away?” “Ah! The way you’ve been pointing and gesticulating and telling me to slow down since you entered my car. I’ve been waiting to ask if maybe you be yellow fever or LASTMA officer.” Tobi chuckled. And then it struck her. That mention of LASTMA could only mean one thing.

“Wait o, Dimeji. Have you been to Lagos?” “Ah, I resemble village boy to you? So, on top of all my baffing up, you still think I’m a local boy? See my life?!” he moaned in jest. “O-o-o-h! Stop it jo. I was referring to the LASTMA comment, not your clothes. No one says “baffs” anymore, old papa youngy …” “Your body don wrinkle …” Dimeji sang. “Pata-pata!” they both chorused and the car erupted in laughter. “You dis girl! You’re just as razz as I am. I like that.” They had by now arrived at the Mr. Biggs on the ever busy Nnebisi Road. This was one of Asaba’s commercial areas, but it was less busy that day, being a Sunday. The restaurant was not as packed as Tobi had expected. Many of those present were young couples with small children, but some older people were also there.

Dimeji paid for their food, and they went to sit at a table with three chairs. “Won’t you check your phone? Your girlfriend won’t like to be kept waiting,” Tobi teased, in between sips from a bottle of Fanta. Dimeji pulled out his phone and came round to where she sat. Still holding it, he placed it right in front of her eyes, and opened the text message that had come in earlier. It was from someone called Tiff Adesanya, and it read:
I hope you’re expecting me, Dimeji. I’m coming to visit in one month. With a questioning look, Tobi tilted her head and looked up at Dimeji. “Oh, that’s my cousin, Tiffany. We … I mean … I call her Tiff for short.”
“Hmmm … That’s what you all say. It’s always your cousin when you’re out of town. But if she was here, you would act like you didn’t know me.”

Dimeji cocked his head to one side and gave her a funny look. But, he walked back to his seat without another word. Tobi wondered if she had not offended him. She did not have to ask him for he spoke up: “I can’t speak for all men, and I shouldn’t even have to. But let me say this: Regardless of your own past experiences with men, we are not all the same. There are still some good men out there, and–“
“Let me guess,” Tobi said, interrupting Dimeji’s one-minute sermon. “You’re one of them, right?” she asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yes.” “Ever heard the saying ‘Don’t blow your own horn’? It’s good advice, you know. Your opportunity to convince me of your humility just flew out of the window. It has probably flown half-way to Onitsha by now.” “I had to address a more pressing issue, my dear,” said Dimeji. You made a generalized, and might I add, very stereotypical statement about men, when in fact, the qualities you referenced are reserved for certain types of men.” “And what sort of man are you, Dimeji?”Tobi asked, throwing the question at him in a deceptively quiet voice. Tobi had already drawn her own conclusions about the sort of man Dimeji was, but she took delight in drawing answers directly from people.

To her, listening to people describe themselves offered a rare opportunity to test the level of humility in a person. A proud person would describe himself in near-perfect terms, omitting his weaknesses and over- emphasizing his strengths. But a humble person would either decline the invitation or give a more balanced description of himself.

As Tobi was about to discover, Dimeji fell closer to the humbler end of the spectrum. “I’m a patient and forgiving man, who still has a lot to learn in life. I love deeply and people often take advantage of that, but it won’t stop me from pouring myself out.” “Is that all?” “The rest you’ll have to find out over time.” Tobi who had paused in the middle of her struggle with a piece of chicken to listen to Dimeji paint a self-portrait with words, resumed her war. The chicken was winning against Tobi even though she was equipped with a fork and knife, but by the time Dimeji finished speaking, Tobi had won the battle.
“Who says we’ll be spending more time together?” Tobi asked. That Dimeji assumed that they would be spending more time together was inferred from his last statement. “You just said ‘We,’ Tobi. I rest my case.”

– to be continued – Stay tune!
Source: www.bussydave.com.ng/2015/12/story-long-distance-relationship-episode-6/

Anyone following??

I hv read ur story till d end and I must confess that I was moved to tears when at last Tobi's sister said she wud join d next available bus to asaba. I also love d part when Tobi turned back to hear Dimeji's explanation. You did a good job but I wud advise u get firmer with ur writings.

Yeah. Am an addict follower of ur epistle.

following o.nice piece

Essyprity:
I hv read ur story till d end and I must confess that I was moved to tears when at last Tobi's sister said she wud join d next available bus to asaba. I also love d part when Tobi turned back to hear Dimeji's explanation. You did a good job but I wud advise u get firmer with ur writings.

Thanks for the encouragement @Essyprity..... Would make corrections to that, thanks for the observation. Am glad you love the story

Thanks guys. Am encouraged by your comments. Keep it comin pals

Now lets continue!

Source: www.bussydave.com.ng/category/entertainment

Long Distance Relationship....Episode 7


Tobi shook her head and rolled her eyes. This guy was just jumping to conclusions, but she was enjoying his company. They continued talking as they ate their lunch.

Tobi told Dimeji that she was in Asaba job-hunting. He told her that he was in a joint venture with his best friend, Chuka in Lagos. Their company sold electronics and was considering opening a branch in Asaba. He had come to do the groundwork to prepare for the new branch, which they planned to launch before the end of the year.

“You’re lucky you have an uncle who is willing to help you secure a job. At least, you studied a sensible course: Business Admin. As for me, na Geography I read o, so I knew I was on my own.”

“My friend, don’t talk like that! You know that even those who graduate with a degree in Yoruba work in banks,” said Tobi.

“Yes, but they need serious connections to cut that deal. I didn’t have that. I’m happy with the path I chose though. Entrepreneurship, I mean. More like it chose me. Even if I worked at a bank, for example, I could not possibly work there forever. I was going to be an entrepreneur eventually. It has brought fulfillment in a lot of ways.”

“I wonder if your girlfriend, Tiff, agrees,” Tobi said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Haba! Don’t tell me we’re back to this non-existent girlfriend? Did that bobo hurt you so much?”

“How did you know?”

“That was the only logical explanation for your refusal to let go of my presumed infidelity.”

“Or you took a wild guess and got lucky?” Tobi queried.

“That too … Look Tobi, I understand. I really do. I have been there.”

There was something genuine and sincere about the way Dimeji said the words ‘I have been there’ that was heart-stirring. Tobi wondered what his story was.

“So, Mr. I-have-been-there, what happened between you and her?”

“You know, it is not good to discuss exes on our first date,” Dimeji said, a naughty grin on his face.

“Say what?! Which date? Don’t get it twisted. I’m just here as–” Tobi said, clearly flustered.

“Sister Tobi, cool down for Jesus! I was just kidding … for now,” Dimeji said. That mischievous twinkle re-appeared so often during their conversation that by the time Dimeji dropped her off at home, she concluded that he was born that way.

Later that evening, she spoke with her mother who called to find out how she was settling down in Asaba. She gave her mother a condensed version of her experiences, including this neighbor who had taken her out to lunch.

“Keep an open mind, Tobi. You don’t know what God has in store for you in Asaba.”

Those were her mother’s words, and that became the mantra she recited to herself every morning. It helped her through the disappointments she faced over the next four months, where she attended job interviews that were unsuccessful. Her uncle’s connections helped her get a foot in the door in some companies, but that was only for the application process. It seemed like the same ill luck that she had tried to escape from in Lagos had followed her to Asaba, and she battled discouragement daily.

In the midst of all this, Dimeji remained at her side, being the listening ear she needed and occasional shoulder to cry on. Tobi had thought that her cousins would have played that role, but they were both disconnected from Tobi’s reality. They had not tasted the pain of disappointment that came from having doors shut in one’s face in places where open doors were expected, promised even. Dimeji, who had walked in Tobi’s shoes a few years back, having gone through the same process, knew exactly what she was going through, and it seemed also, how to comfort her.

He was usually out during the day, busy with the demands of opening a new branch office. However, in the evenings, he made himself available, coming to visit her at home and taking long walks down the quiet streets in their neighborhood. Occasionally, they visited local attractions like the Mongo Park Building, FSP Children’s Park and Otu-Ogwu Beach, but it was those long walks that Tobi loved the most because they got to enjoy each other’s company and talk for hours. What better way is there to get to know a person than talking to him?

In four months, Tobi knew more about Dimeji than she had known about Mayowa in five years. She knew that he had two younger brothers who were still in the university, that his parents had divorced when he was just five, and had learnt to speak Hausa fluently while he attended primary school in Kaduna, where his mother lived.

Because his parents felt that the schools in Lagos were better than the ones in Kaduna, he had moved to Lagos after finishing primary school, to attend a private secondary school. He studied Geography at Olabisi Onabanjo University, in Ogun State, formerly known as Ogun State University (OSU). Youth service was at Kogi state, and that was the last time he had been in a relationship.

He was reluctant to tell Tobi about this past relationship, but Tobi was not one to be ignored. She cornered him one Friday evening, during one of their numerous leisurely strolls, and asked him point blank to tell her about his ex-girlfriend.

“Talking is therapeutic, Dimeji. You of all people should know that. It’s what you’ve been drumming into my head almost every day since we met,” Tobi said, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her face. “Oya talk.”

“Why now? You’re ruining the mood. Look at the way the sun has colored the sky as it is going to sleep. Isn’t God amazing?” Dimeji said, making a last minute attempt to change the subject. Tobi did not fall for it, and insisted on him speaking about her.

“Okay. Remember that day at Mr. Biggs? I told you that I love deeply and that people often take advantage of that.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Okay, that’s what happened. I loved her too much and she knew it. It didn’t work out. The end.”

“Oh no, sir. That summary is unacceptable. You’ll have to do better than that.”

“What do you want me to say, Tobi?” Dimeji asked, in a frustrated voice.

“For starters, you could tell me her name,” Tobi said, coolly.

“Her name. Hmmmm …. Her name was … is Enitan Ibiwoye.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t. She was a fellow corper. We were both posted to a secondary school in Asaya, Kogi state. She taught English, and I taught Health Science. We spent a lot of time together.”

“Was she fine? Or should I say beautiful?”

“Yes, she was … on the outside. We were inseparable.” And here, Dimeji smiled as he remembered some happier times he had shared with this Enitan person.

“Go on. I’m listening.” Tobi began to wonder if asking him to talk about his ex-girlfriend was such a good idea.

“She had this … this face. How do I describe her? When she braided her hair, she looked just like a Malo chick.”

“Malo what? What’s that?”

“Hausa girl. She looked like an Hausa girl.”

“She was very athletic too. She represented our platoon and won many of those running competitions. Her favorite meal was–“

“Abeg, abeg! I didn’t ask you for all the details on her life. I just wanted to know what went wrong.”

“Shebi you were the one asking about my ex? Now, you’re tired of hearing about her abi?” Dimeji asked in surprise.

“Why did you people break up? Simple question. Oya answer it,” Tobi responded, arms folded across her chest.

“I was not the only one who was attracted to her. I mean … she was hot! A lot of the other male corpers thought so too. They were always toasting her, flirting with her, and she did nothing to discourage them. I confronted her with this shortly after we started dating, and she just brushed off my concerns. Said I was too sensitive. And then the rumors started … that she was seeing other men.”

“Sleeping with other men, you mean,” Tobi said, a stern look on her face.

“Well … yes, that’s what they said.”

“Let me guess … You didn’t believe them. You thought she was above all that. Am I right?”

“Yes, yes, exactly. I told her that people were talking, but that I didn’t believe them. That I believed in us.”

“And what did she say?”

“The first time I confronted her with the rumors, she threatened to break up with me. That there were many people who were jealous of her, especially other female corpers, and they were the ones spreading the rumors.”

“There’s no smoke without fire,” Tobi muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Dimeji asked.

“Nothing. Continue. I’m listening.”

“She denied it and said that I should stop feeding my ears with gossip. So, I took her advice and ignored the rumors. I actually quarreled with some of my friends over this issue. At some point, some of them said I was jazzed.”

Tobi laughed. That was typical. An African man’s unshakeable loyalty to a woman could always be explained by jazz or juju. It had to be a love charm mixed liberally with some mouth-watering meal she had cooked for him. Love by itself, in its purest, unadulterated form was not enough.

Dimeji paused, took a deep breath and continued.

“The rumors increased and so did the intensity of Enitan’s denials. At some point, I thought I was hallucinating, that I had imagined all these stories about her and other guys. Eventually, I got tired of self-therapy, and decided to find out for myself. So, the very next rumor that reached my ears, I took it to heart and investigated.”

“And what did you find out?” Tobi asked, even though she already guessed the answer.

“That I had been a big fool. She wasn’t only messing around with corpers but with teachers and even the headmaster.”

“Headmaster? Well, I have to hand it to her. She didn’t aim low. She went straight for the oga at the top … if you can call the headmaster that,” Tobi said. Dimeji did not find her joke funny and told her immediately. She apologized.

“After that, I broke up with her. The funny thing is that I still loved her though. If she hadn’t–“

“Do you still love her?” Tobi asked, looking into Dimeji’s eyes. Without hesitating, he replied:

“No. It took a while … years actually, but I got over her.”

“And how do you know? I mean, how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because when she came–“

Dimeji’s phone rang at that minute, interrupting their conversation. He answered it before Tobi could stop him and began to speak Hausa to someone over the phone. Tobi could not make head or tail of the conversation, but she wanted Dimeji to conclude his Enitan gist, so she waited for the phone call to end. Five minutes turned to ten minutes.

By this time, they had walked back to Okpannam road and were standing in front of Chief Fashola’s house. The front gate opened, and Rita, the house help came to call Tobi.

“Madam dey call you, Auntie,” she said to Tobi.

– to be continued –

virtuedagirl:
following o.nice piece

Thanks Virtuedagirl

aprilwise:
Yeah. Am an addict follower of ur epistle.

Thanks @aprilwise. I sight you boss

Source: http://www.bussydave.com.ng/2015/12/story-long-distance-relationship-episode-8

Long Distance Relationship....Episode 8



Tobi tapped Dimeji on the shoulder, told him she was leaving and retired indoors. She knew that she would have another opportunity to ask more questions the following day.

One of her father’s friends was celebrating his 54th birthday in Agbor that Saturday, and Dimeji had volunteered to take her there. The man, Mr. Johnson would not have bothered celebrating 54. After all, most people threw parties to celebrate major milestones like 21, 30, 40, 50 and so on.

But Mr. Johnson had survived a major boat accident earlier that year, and felt that a party was in order.

Tobi’s father would not be in attendance, but his daughter would represent the family. Chief Fashola and Auntie Priscillia would also be out of town attending another function.

As soon as Tobi entered the house, she went to the back of the house, where Auntie Priscillia was sitting eating sugar cane. Tobi greeted her, fetched her own plate, and joined her aunt to consume the sugar cane.

“Tobi,” Auntie Priscillia began, after spitting out the chaff from the chewed-up sugar cane, “That man you’re always going about with, what’s his name?”

“Dimeji, Auntie. His name is Dimeji,” Tobi replied, before throwing a piece of sugar cane in her mouth. She was not surprised. She had expected her aunt to question her about her friendship with Dimeji and was ready with answers.

“So, what are the two of you doing together, ehn? You’ve been spending all this time with him, and you’ve been gallivanting all around Asaba together. Tobi, I know I am not your mother, but I won’t open my eyes and keep quiet if I see something wrong happening to you.”

She paused. She did not expect a reply from Tobi, but started coughing. Tobi dived indoors for a glass of water. After drinking and clearing her throat, she continued.

“Now, this Dimeji, has he made his intentions known to you? I mean, has he asked for your hand in marriage?”

“Haba, Auntie! We’ve only known each other for four months, and you’re already talking about marriage. We are just friends.”

“You children don’t know anything. How long do you think it took before your uncle married me? Just two months. Marriage was his intention from day one, and he made it clear. He didn’t waste time at all. Tobi, I don’t want this man to waste your time like that other Mayowa fellow. If a man wants you, he will make it clear.”

“Auntie, we are just friends. I’m not his girlfriend or anything and–“

“You see, that’s the problem. Anybody seeing the two of you together would think you were in a committed relationship, and you’re now telling me he is just a friend. Tobi, it is a woman who determines the pace of a relationship, and she is the one who sets the boundaries too. With your mouth you’re saying you both share a casual friendship, but your actions tell a different story. Don’t let any man make a fool of you. I know not every man is upfront about his intentions like your uncle. Some men need a little push to make a commitment. This Dimeji fellow must decide whether he will commit himself to you or move on. If he has not raised this issue with you, then it is your duty to do so. Or else–“

And here, Auntie Priscillia’s voice trailed off as she threw another piece of sugar cane into her mouth and chewed it with a rugged determination. It was like the words that should have come after “or else” were crushed with the pulp of the sugar cane and promptly discarded with the chaff.

Tobi knew that what her aunt had said was true. She had thought about it many times, but each time the thought presented itself, she had pushed it farther and farther away into the recesses of her mind. It was something she was not willing to deal with simply because she was enjoying the steady pace of her friendship with Dimeji.

They were getting to know each other without the boyfriend-girlfriend tag, which in Tobi’s opinion, could ruin everything. Their friendship was unhurried and she did not feel the pressure she had felt with her relationship with Mayowa. Until that evening with Aunty Priscillia.

Why rock the boat?

Tobi was sure that bringing up any talk about relationships or commitment with Dimeji would spoil the simple friendship they already had. Besides, wasn’t that his place? Why did she have to do a man’s job for him? And she did not want to repeat the same mistake she had made with Paul with any other man.

Certainly not with Dimeji.

Tobi was forward, outspoken sometimes, and in the months after her breakup with Mayowa, she felt a deep sense of guilt for the way things had panned out between them. A part of her felt that her being too forward was to blame, and she had consciously tried to tone it down when she came to Asaba.

Poor Tobi! If only she knew that there was no amount of ‘toning down’ her character that could have saved her relationship with Mayowa. They had already drifted apart before he went to Abuja, but she still held on to him like a drowning man clutching at straw.

For Mayowa, the physical distance between them was a manifestation of what was already going on emotionally. He had gone to Abuja thinking of starting afresh. It just so happened that it was Folake who had walked into his life at a time when his own heart was searching for someone else. Tobi with all her letter writing, phone calls and emails was fighting a lost battle.

But our dear Tobi was not a mind reader. She only knew what she could see and understand. This revelation, of course, came later.

That evening with Auntie Priscillia, she realized that her attempts to suppress her nature were failing. In fact, they had failed. The longer she sat there thinking about what her aunt had said, the more she realized that she had been the one deceiving herself.

There was nothing simple about her friendship with Dimeji. They had crossed the friend line a long time ago, but they never made it official. He never made it official.

“I’m not going to Agbor without a formal commitment. In fact, I’m not going anywhere without defining this yeye friendship. What would I even introduce him as? My friend? Let me not disgrace myself. I will confront him today.”

With her mind made up, Tobi thanked her aunt for her advice and retired to her room. Once she was within the confines of her room, she sent Dimeji a text with the four words men do not like to hear:

We need to talk.

Tobi had expected that Dimeji would reply with “Okay, we’ll discuss this tomorrow.” But she got a big shock when he replied with “Okay. Me too, I have something to say. Meet me outside your gate in five minutes.”

Five minutes? She had hoped for a meeting the following day so she could collect her thoughts and decide what to say. But now, five minutes?

“Well, there goes my plan,” she muttered to herself as she went to the designated meeting place.

How did the discussion went?

– to be continued –

Every relationship must be define nd give it a meaning nd value if not abuse is inevitable. Thanks man for d update.

Ahn ahn, please update this story asap! Running outta patience..

aprilwise:
Every relationship must be define nd give it a meaning nd value if not abuse is inevitable. Thanks man for d update.

Exactly @aprilwise...You've said it all!

Am glad you are still following the story...*Thumbs up*