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Stats: 2,095,733 members, 4,531,315 topics. Date: Thursday, 18 October 2018 at 12:55 PM
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Preetiex(f): 11:12am On Jan 08|
Centino:ok we are waiting
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by nkay2020: 3:19pm On Jan 08|
@centino...my love happy new year...mama akunna a witch? I saw that coming
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by YINKS89(m): 3:30pm On Jan 08|
@centino I trust u re goin to gv us d best.
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by WHOcarex: 9:49pm On Jan 08|
Lol. I'm so loving this
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Pinkfeet: 10:58pm On Jan 08|
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by EKLE: 2:47pm On Jan 09|
Centino abeg drop update for them boys
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by sheycrown(f): 7:51pm On Jan 09|
Happy new year Centino. What's happening with updates now.....the week is going already. Trust you're good??
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 1:54pm On Jan 10|
WILLIAMSKECH, ADECULATE, INDUSTRIALFAN, Preetiex , okeyben10, nkay2020 , YINKS89, WHOcarex, Pinkfeet, EKLE, and sheycrown...thanks for checking dear. My own holiday started when others' ended But I'm back now. Missed Y'all.
I dwelled on Mama Akunna and her infant grandchild’s exchange much longer than was necessary. For some reason, it kept tugging at my heart. I stood outside wondering, long after the baby stopped crying and everyone had dispersed. The image of the transformation of the baby’s eyes would not leave my consciousness, but I pushed it away all the same because I needed to get busy. I had been considering joining my cousin Mkpoikanna to go hustle at the wharf full time since I have had no luck getting a white collar job. Being a graduate of Forestry, I knew my options were limited, even though in this country you could read Yoruba and become Minister for Science and Technology. But everywhere I went I met a brick wall. I have failed many bank aptitude tests and once got to the final stage of an interview into a top courier company only for one of the interviewers to say he felt uncomfortable about me, that there was something about me that did not go well with him. He said I had an “aura”. I noticed that the others on the panel were concerned as this guy was going over the top. But he excused himself and left the interview midway. He was the most powerful person on the panel. I was never called for the job.
My cousin’s body language in recent weeks suggested that he was beginning to get uncomfortable with me hanging around contributing nothing. At first, he liked it that his graduate brother was living with him. He said he would pray that I got a good job so that when I moved into my three bedroom apartment he would move in with me. He gave me transport money to interviews and the occasional pocket money; even though I made sure I used it to buy something for both of us. I made sure there was always beans porridge to drink garri with – a favorite of ours – or I did concoction rice or boiled yam which we ate with palm oil. I sha made sure that I was not clearly a burden. But all of a sudden my cousin was no longer impressed. I have refused to connect it, but I would say that it all started after Maya slept in our room the first night. I did not think that my cousin would be jealous because he always told me I should enjoy myself in that manner. But when I thought about it well, I remembered that in the morning I insisted that Maya stayed for breakfast and I made indomie and egg and we ate together. Mkpoikanna refused to eat. Since then he had become cold.
I had been to the wharf to hustle before, about that time I began to tell this story. There were always damaged cars to push for the clearing agents, there were always people wanting to smuggle things whom you could lend a helping hand to. In fact, that was what I did most as my education and carriage always fooled officials and I could cross many boundaries for cash. It was Mkpoikanna that discouraged me and said I should concentrate on searching for a proper job. I risked going to jail and he would not forgive himself if that happened while under his care. But now I think I have to go back there for all it was worth. When I mentioned it to him in the night he did not object. So now I know I have to go and earn some money if I want to be treating my girlfriend to meals.
I went to the backyard and fetched water in a bucket and went to join the queue for the bathroom. While there Maya also came with her bucket of water. She only had a towel tied around her breasts and wore a shower cap to protect her hair. I winked at her and she smiled at me. I could not take my eyes off her. There was something about a beautiful girl in only a towel that always threatened to drive me insane. Suddenly I lost my situational awareness. I did not remember that I wanted to go and hustle for money. I could not think that she was out there so early to have her bath because she too had somewhere to go to. I did not consider that there were other neighbors around busy at one thing or the other while aware of whose turn it was to enter the bathroom. I had become afflicted with a serious debilitation that involved the entire weight of my body shifting to my groin.
I spoke to her with my eyes and shortly after I entered my room she turned the doorknob and entered as well. There was no need to say anything. With just a finger I managed to free her from the towel and she was stark nude before me. Even now I cannot remember where I flung my boxers. I pounced on her, kissing and squeezing and sucking like it was the last stage of an interview with an oil company where I could not afford to fail.
“Haa this calabar boy” she mourned.
“Yes sweetie” I replied and continued to work on her.
I explored her readiness for a while with my fingers and then eased up and reached for the pack of condoms I kept in the drawer beside the bed.
“No. This is not happening” she said and sat up.
“Dear, it is happening live.”
“I mean the condom.”
“We should use it. It is for our safety. We are not ready for any additional responsibility yet.”
“This is exactly as I saw it in my dream,” she said.
“What dream honey?” I said, my er*ection getting firmer and looking angry.
“I have never had such a dream before,” she said.
Now, my friends, I don’t know if you understand what I was going through at that moment. There I was with the biggest arousal possible with the most beautiful woman in the world n*ked and ready for me and then in the middle of it she stops and starts talking about a dream.
“Darling, we can worry about the dream later,” I said, as I threw the foil wrapper away and unrolled the prophylactic over me.
“I saw that you were going to use it and I did not let you.”
“Honey, this is real life and I want you right now and I already have it on and it is for our own good.”
“Don’t use it.”
“It was a revelation, not just a dream.”
“You could be pregnant Maya.”
“It is my safe period.”
“You don’t know anything about safe periods Maya.”
“I am not a prostitute.”
“Holy Methuselah” I breathed and peeled off the condom.
It was the silkiest entry ever. I rammed for about a minute and exploded like I have never done before and then collapsed on top of her.
“You came quickly,” she said.
“I wanted you too much,” I said.
Then I remembered we were in the queue to have our bath. Then I remembered I did not know where my breakfast was coming from today.
“It will soon be my turn at the bathroom.”
“You have satisfied yourself abi?”
“Come on Maya.”
“No problem. I will sleep here tonight.”
With that, she grabbed her covering and left the room.
Now more than ever I knew I had to go out to find money. It was not good manners to not entertain your girlfriend. With some luck, I could get chicken or fish from the smugglers. Breakfast after Maya tomorrow would be something.
Now that I have to go out to hustle, a lot will be happening in the compound I would not be able to see to tell you. Hopefully, Centino would let you see what is going on through the eyes of another person. For now, I dey go baff. Hustle calling.
TO BE CONTINUED.
13 Likes 3 Shares
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by UncleSnr(m): 3:10pm On Jan 10|
Too bad the story has lost its erection. Signing off.
1 Like 1 Share
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Preetiex(f): 3:22pm On Jan 10|
UncleSnr:dont worry uncle, centino is gonna pop some champane in d story soon
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by INDUSTRIALFAN(m): 3:44pm On Jan 10|
This is centino's way of telling us "story don dey finish ooo"
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 3:57pm On Jan 10|
Oh ye of little faith
Story just dey start joor.
Preetiex, INDUSTRIALFAN. I see you.
UncleSnr, better come back hia!
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by tsharp(m): 4:07pm On Jan 10|
I see a new narrator. Hopefully, it is the more devious characters like irikefe or even mama akuna herself. new year new twist . well done centino.
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:29pm On Jan 10|
tsharp, hold my beer
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by INDUSTRIALFAN(m): 4:33pm On Jan 10|
Centino:fear bin don dey catch me o... Lol... Great assurance
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by kikiwendy(f): 7:14pm On Jan 10|
Oga centino thanks for the update.. Make Maya no go get belle sha
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by YINKS89(m): 7:24pm On Jan 10|
Now dats d twist we desire.... Centino thumbs up
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by elpatron95(m): 7:49pm On Jan 10|
Jejey ffw d tQry Jejey ffw d tQry
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by copg22(m): 12:55am On Jan 11|
Katakata dey for 225 katakata street...nice story bro
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by tsharp(m): 7:23am On Jan 11|
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by okeyben10: 2:36am On Jan 12|
who was it that related d journey btw corporeal mama akuna and d baby??
was it ndifreke??if he cud c all of that make hin sef kwantinue d story lol. his going to hustle shouldn't stop nathing lol
anyway we no send who tells d story so fa yu keep d updates juicy and steady.
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 9:32am On Jan 12|
You're welcome man. I repeat. The story has only just begun. You don't want to miss what's coming on Sunday
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by nikz(f): 6:18pm On Jan 12|
Kikikikikiki you won't kill somebody oh centino!
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by HORLADSTAR(m): 6:25pm On Jan 12|
Bro I doff my hat for you o,thumb up to you mehn
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by ikevictor22(m): 7:22pm On Jan 12|
Centino baba! Maya must get belle
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Emperortj93(m): 12:37pm On Jan 13|
centino baba, i like the way you structure the story and the humor are just so nice, neat, refreshing and timely. weldone sah. We know you gat to hustle but can you please try and be dishing out two updates (which would obviously not be enough) every week.
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Emeralddan(f): 1:18pm On Jan 13|
you are a wonderful writer,emphasis on wonderful. how do u manage to write so beautifully?. I love dis story and I can't wait. for tomorrow
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 4:59pm On Jan 13|
Other things being equal Emperortj93 it's twice a week. Wed and Sun for the moment. Days of the week may change going forward but yeah, twice a week the deal.
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 5:07pm On Jan 13|
Thanks, Emeralddan Tomorrow coming.
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Centino: 10:03am On Jan 14|
Castro lay in bed thinking about his life. He had messed up badly and was now an object of ridicule in the compound. Since he returned from the hospital, he had remained indoors. He was grateful for the fact that they lived in the self-contained and shared nothing but the corridor and frontage with the rest of the compound; meaning that he could take care of his basic needs without needing to be in contact with any neighbor. He wished that they forgot about him soon enough. But he knew that that was not possible. They would all be waiting for him to reappear to make a mockery of him. The truth of what happened that night had come out. Another boy on the street present at the club that night came home with the story. His mother and siblings remained sympathetic and kind towards him. But his father had been as savage as Irikefe was at the hospital. Every morning his dad would come to him and say, “Are you not yet fully recovered? Are you afraid to go out and face your just reward? The whole street is waiting to see their new asewo lover. Don’t disappoint them ehn? Ewu gambia.” What was worst with his father was that he had now stopped calling his younger ones Ewu gambia. He was now the exclusive Ewu gambia in the house. This made him sad. His father was right about the street. Katakata Street thrived on scandals. And with the multitude in the predominantly face-me-I-face-you houses on the street, it meant that he could go a lifetime and not finish meeting all the people that would have interest in his shame. Then an idea struck him. He would give his life to Christ. Yes, that is what he would do. People generally left those brave enough to give up the world for Christ alone. He would say that what happened to him was his Damascus. They would come to see that night at the club as predestination and elevate the event to something close the experience of Saint Paul. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He could in that repented state also be able to get closer to Sister Esther. He had noticed but refused to accept that he was attracted to older women. What he did with Mama Kike’s daughter was just to prove to Irikefe that whatever Irikefe was capable of, he too was. But deep down he knew he fancied older women. She let him touch her breasts once; she could let him again and possibly let him do more. As Irikefe reasoned, she was already giving it to The Undertaker and they were not married. What he would do would be to gain her trust in Christ, ask her to take him as her son, and then see how things went from there. He still wanted to have his father beaten up. But that would wait for the time being.
Achike sat up in bed and thought about his life. He was forty years old now and still unmarried. His okrika business had been thriving in the past months. He had been able to put away some money as savings. He was considering a poultry farm on that small property of his at Sango. He also wanted to buy a keke and put on the road for extra income. But all that he knew would not give him happiness. What he needed was a woman: a young beautiful thing with a womb as soft and sharp as a magnet. One that he would not need to fire three times before it caught a foetus. The only such young beautiful woman he knew was Maya – that mama Tobi’s daughter that was more beautiful than a mammy water. The other day as she was coming back from where she went he had taken a good look at her. The movement of her waist. Chineeeeke! But he had to admit that the full transformation into a woman that had taken place with Maya happened since that new Calabar boy started firing her. Achike worried about Ndifreke. He had never seen a man so good looking. On impulse, he stood and regarded himself in the standing mirror in his room. He was short and pudgy and ugly without a doubt. Ndifreke, on the other hand, was tall, broad-shouldered; his face was like it was sculpted with Egyptian clay. He was also well educated; spoke English like he was the son of Queen Elizabeth. It was understandable that Maya opened it for him despite running away from men since her father did that great evil to her. But one thing that was sure was that he did not have shi-shi in his pocket. That made Achike grin. He would approach her mother. Yes, that was what he would do. He would dangle money in front of her and she would let him have her daughter. If she was ready to marry her off to that old cripple the other time, there was no way she would refuse him. Once that was done, he would take her and run far from Katakata street before all his children would look like the Calabar boy as happened to his friend Akunna and the tailor.
Awero rolled over and pulled a handkerchief from under her pillow and caught the immotile semen her husband had just deposited into her. That was all she was to him. A sperm receptacle. She sighed, produced a torch, flicked it on, and saw that the baby was sound asleep. She pointed at the floor and saw that the other children were also sleeping easy. She was careful that the beam did not reach where her mother-in-law lay for she knew what would follow if that happened. Satisfied that her family was comfortable she switched off the torch, covered herself properly with her wrapper, and showed her husband her back. She wanted her lover. Simple as that. Talabi was the man for her. It was a miracle that her last child turned out to be her husbands because for the whole time they had been married she had not stopped seeing Talabi. Akunna underestimated what they had even though he knew from the beginning. He had called it infatuation. That now that she was going to be with a real man, she would overcome her ‘childish impulses’ towards Talabi. But eight years on, he was still the only one capable of igniting the fire in her. In the past, whenever her husband came to her and left her like that, she left the room and went to Talabi who would do a proper job on her. Akunna knew but pretended not to. What else was he supposed to do if he still wanted her as a wife given his uselessness as a lover? In return, she remained docile and continued to give him her body to relieve himself into. But now that he had allowed his evil mother into their house for good, she could no longer go to Talabi without being discovered. Add that to the misery the old witch had turned her existence into, no one would blame her if she carried out the plan Talabi had come up with. She thought about it for a while and shuddered. She would do what she had to do.
Mama Akunna got up and locked the door. She was the only one in the room now and only needed five minutes. She brought out the twenty-liter keg of ogogoro she just received and unscrewed the cover. She produced a bowl from under the bed, squatted and urinated into it. She then poured the urine into the keg and shook it.
“Dem say person no dey use hin money buy bad tin. So anybody wey pay money as e buy my market make hin drink get peace. But anybody wey buy for credit, or any long-throat wey buy but no gree pay, or anybody wey make mistake tiff my market, when hin lie down to sleep make hin head be like say dem start motorcycle inside. If hin sleep by mistake make masquerade pursue am flog am well well. Make hin suffer until hin come pay me my money.”
She then covered the keg and put it aside. She arranged her cups and tumblers and mixed the various herbs she would offer and then set everything in one corner of the room. She then opened the door and let Awero and her children in and said, “Oya, basitad one. You see this thing wey I put here, no make mistake touch am you hear?
The little boy nodded.
“Basitad two. You hear wetin I tell your broda?”
“Basitad three. You nko?”
“I don hear mama.”
“Basitad four. You hear?”
She looked at Awero who had her baby balanced on her hip. There was no need saying anything to her. She dared not trespass and she knew it. She then left the room. Evening could not come soon enough so she could start her business.
Cosmas sat and examined his life. It had been three years in Katakata Street and he knew that the journey was still far. He knew about spiritual homogeneity and the fact that if he was there at Katakata Street it was because he had something in common with the people there. He could look at anyone in his compound and see a bit of what he struggled with in them. Until he found his illumination, he succumbed easily to the urgings of his body like Talabi or Ndifreke. He was thieving like Irikefe. Pompous like Zubi, confused like Akunna, manipulative like Akunna’s mother even. Fearful like every single one of them too. But he recognized that he had to work his way through all of his faults to be qualified for the afterlife he wanted. Every time something happened, he always sat and examined himself and looked for what he could learn to be better in similar circumstances, being careful not to judge anyone in doing so. Then one by one, he gave out good thoughts towards everyone and prayed for strength for them all. He then looked out the window and saw Nifreke passing. He stepped out, beckoned him over, and offered him a seat.
“I see you have started going out daily. You found a job now?”
“Not quite sir. I go to the wharf to do this and that. I have been trying for a job but no luck. I don’t have any connections.”
“Good. Movement is a law we all need to obey. Stagnation would have been your ruin. Whatever you can find now do it. By the way, connection for a job is a myth. You know that?”
“I don’t think so Mr. Cosmas. All my friends that graduated the same time as me who knew one big man or the other have jobs now but me, nothing.”
“What you are experiencing now is what you need for your growth. At the right time, the connections you need will show up.”
“I hope you are right sir.”
“We will all pass through phases and if you are mindful, you will understand why what is happening to you is happening at every turn. What you need to do is to embrace it and stay thankful for the opportunity to experience and understand that there are no mistakes in nature.”
“Even as I am poor and jobless when I know I deserve better?”
“You think you deserve better. What you have now is what you deserve.”
Ndifreke let that sink in and then yawned. “I’m hungry,” he said. “I have to go and cook beans before Mkpoikanna returns.”
“You can have a drink with me first.”
They were seated at a bar on their street where the owner had little patronage because she did not have DSTV with football showing that attracted people to the other bars in the area. It suited Cosmas because he liked to do his thinking over a beer in an uncrowded place.
“How come you are drinking alcohol?” Ndifreke said.
“And what is wrong with drinking alcohol?”
“The religions I know condemn the consumption of it.”
“I don’t abide by any creeds. One day when you have the time I will tell you about religions.”
“But you talk about God and stuff and you carry yourself like a holy person.”
“Well, as you can see, I am not holy.”
“Then what are you?”
“I am spiritual, like you, like everyone else. Only that I am conscious of my spirituality, unlike many.”
“Hmm well, thanks for the offer but I don’t drink, I can take away a pet bottle of coke if you don’t mind.”
“That’s fine. Grab one and be on your way.”
“But tell me Mr. Cosmas, how can drinking alcohol be okay? I assume you believe it is that is why you do it?”
“Over two thousand years ago a man who was perhaps the greatest that ever lived, being accosted by religious people of the time over a similar dogma did say and I repeat, “It is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a man, but what comes out of the mouth, that is what defiles a man. You can find that in Matthew 15:11.”
TO BE CONTINUED
17 Likes 2 Shares
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by Preetiex(f): 12:49pm On Jan 14|
|Re: Number 225 Katakata Street by EKLE: 12:52pm On Jan 14|
wow! nice 1 centino... I wish dis story can b a season film
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