JamesKudooski:


Wow, Joromi! I love this your Big Brother Naija style ooo.
Up team #yemisola

lol how?

yemi should not be angry nau.. if Na me I go fear too

good job James!

joromi36:



lol how?


yemi should not be angry nau.. if Na me I go fear too


good job James!

Joromi, true talk oooo.

Thanks for the compliment.

skubido:
Plz Comma update oooo

Skubido, loading....

oya ooooooo anoda update plsssssss am begging

skubido:
Plz Comma update oooo

Skubido, loading...

Folashadee:
oya ooooooo
anoda update plsssssss
am begging

Oya, loading...

JamesKudooski:
FRESH EPISODES LOADING ...

extraordinary story, hope update would be frequent

Interesting story

EPISODE 18
(CHAPTER SEVEN)


WATCHING YEMI WALKED AWAY was too much for Simisola to bear. So, she ran after him and caught up with him. She held his hands and dropped on her knees, “Mr Yemi, please I can explain ...”

“There is nothing to explain. There won’t be any need for that,” Yemi responded. She looked up at his towering figure. Surprisingly, Yemi bent low and raised her up. He continued, “It’s okay, Simi. I quite understand your fear. I don’t blame you.” He smiled reassuringly. “Up till this morning, I was a stranger to you. I was just one crazy guy who barged into your shop and called you my wife. I gave you money and came to take you out today ... It all seems strange, I know. So, I don’t blame you for having us followed in case I tried to do something funny.” Then he laughed and added, “Intelligent thinking!”

Simisola heaved a sigh of relief. “So, you are not angry?”

“Not at all, Simi,” he replied and pulled her cheeks like an adult would pull the cheeks of a naughty child.

“Thank you for your understanding, sir. I am really relieved. When I saw you walked away I was scared you were walking out of my life and I felt so bad”, she said with the innocence of a child.

Yemi grinned. “I only wanted to see your reaction.”

“Hmmm? You got me there.”

Yemi walked up to Scorpion and held out his hand to him for a handshake. “Hello Mister, now that you know that I know you are trailing us, so there’s no need of spying on us any longer. You can join us. We were actually on our way to that eatery to have something to eat,” he said pointing to a Mega Chicken outlet opposite the plaza.

Scorpion shook Yemi’s hand vigorously with both hands and bowed low as if he was shaking the President. “Thank you, sir ... Thank you, sir ... I am grateful, sir.”

Yemi grimaced as he absorbed the pain caused by Scorpion’s powerful grip. The palms were hard and the irritation of their rough surfaces almost burst the pores of his skin open. Afterwards, Scorpion helped put the shopping bags into the car and they all strolled across the road to the eatery.

They treated themselves to a wonderful time. Simisola enjoyed herself like no other but Scorpion enjoyed himself the most. He was given the freewill to order whatever he wanted and he used the opportunity to the fullest. Yemi insisted that Simisola bought takeaway packs for the other ladies at Pink Roses which she did with special orders for Auntie Funmi and Ngozi, her bosom friend. By the time they were done, Scorpion’s belly was bulging out and he belched every ten seconds. Simisola could not help but laugh at him each time he did.

Scorpion followed them to the car and opened the door for Simisola. Yemi dipped his hand into his pocket and counted Twenty Thousand Naira from the pack of money he brought out. He handed it over to Scorpion. “That’s for taking the pain to keep your eye on my friend, Simisola.”

Immediately Scorpion collected the money, he jumped up and stamped his legs on the ground. “Double tuaile, Baba Oyinbo. You get mouth, baba. Thank you very much, sir. Baba, you too sure. Tuaile, baba!”

“You are welcome, Mr ...?”

“Scorpion. Call me Scorpion, sir ...”

“Scorpion?” Yemi turned to Simisola with raised highbrows. She responded with a smile.

“Yes, baba. Scorpion,” Scorpion reaffirmed with pride. “You are too much, baba. In fact, your head is there. Triple tuai ...” He couldn’t complete the statement as another round of belches seized him. Simisola laughed again.

The ride back to Pink Roses was smooth. Scorpion rode in front of them like an escort of a government official clearing the road.

“Mr Yemi, thank you so much, sir. I really enjoyed myself today. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

Yemi turned to look at her and then asked, “Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Please go ahead, sir.”

“Please can we stop this ‘sir’ and ‘Mr Yemi’ stuff? They make me feel uncomfortable. Can you please call me Yemi?”

“Ah!” She covered her mouth with her palm.

“Ah what?”

“That one is too big for my mouth ooo.” She shook her head reluctantly.

“Too big?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable calling you by your first name, sir.”

“Yes. I asked it of you.”

“Okay, sir ... Oh, sorry ... Yee ... Yemi.”

“Better.”

Simisola blushed like a shy little girl. “Thank you so much, Ye ... Ye ... Yemi. I really appreciate all that you have done for me, sir ... oh, sorry ... for me.”

“Don’t worry you will get used to it.”

“I hope so, Yemi.”

Yemi’s lips extended into a smile as he thought to himself, ‘She is learning fast.’

Soon, they arrived at Pink Roses. It was getting late and Yemi’s home at Banana Island was still far. He dropped Simisola off and left immediately without entering into the shop. Scorpion helped Simisola with the shopping bags inside the salon.

“Ah, Auntie Funmi, Baba Oyinbo is a ‘correct’ guy. Simisola has caught a very big fish,” Scorpion said as soon as he caught sight of Auntie Funmi in the shop.

All the other ladies flocked round Simisola as she narrated all that went down during the outing. She then handed everyone the packs she bought for them. Shakirah and Risi, as usual, stayed at a corner with arms crossed and eyes full of envy and animosity. If only they could send thunderbolts.

Simisola then went into Auntie Funmi’s office and intimated her of how the outing went. Auntie Funmi almost fainted when she heard that Yemi busted Scorpion’s cover. However, her admiration for Yemi soared when she heard how he handled the situation.

As Yemi drove home, he replayed in his head the events of the day. He realized that he had not been that happy in his life in a long time. His feelings for Simisola now was strong and the attraction enormous. His eyes beamed as he thought about it. He remembered the few times he had gone outing with Nicole. He noticed that what he felt then could not compare at all with what he felt today. He squinched his face at the thought. He now understood the real meaning of true feelings. Spending time with Simisola had opened his eyes to many things he didn’t know about her before. This had changed not just his view about her but also his view about the ghetto as a whole and its products.

Yinka’s statement now made more sense to him than ever before. ‘Who says True Love has any particular address? Or is there anybody who can tell where True Love resides? Friend, if your True Love is in the ghetto, go for it, man!’ That was the most powerful statement he had heard in recent times. He grinned. ‘Yinka is definitely The Philosopher and he deserves a carton of Gulder,’ he thought.

Yemi now became convinced than ever before that his feelings for Simisola was real and that his own True Love resided in the ghetto and he had found her--there was no question about that!

He was ready to go for it! But what he didn’t realize was that getting his True Love wouldn’t be a piece of cake!

To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

tonexyx:
extraordinary story, hope update would be frequent

Thanks, Tonexyx. I will try on the frequency.

Marvelous352:
Interesting story

Thanks a lot, Marvelous352. Happy you're enjoying the story.

He'll surely have to earn it especially wre we have shakirah.

Tanks a lot 4d update.




U too much.

EPISODE 19
(CHAPTER SEVEN)


Victoria Island, Shooters Club and Bar, 7. 25 p.m.

Yinka raised his glass of Gulder, looked at it with longing eyes and downed the remaining content of the glass in one gulp. He licked his lips and robbed his stomach in satisfaction. “Wow! Nothing compares with my bottle of Guuuulder,” he said and belched. He refilled the glass and continued to listen to Yemi who was floating in the air as he narrated his experience with Simisola.

Yemi and Yinka sat down at their usual spot at the bar. It was a table at the far right corner of the bar that made it easy to see whoever was going in and out of the bar. The bar smelt nice. The aroma of the goat pepper soup ravaged the air. The beers were chill and the bottles sweated.

There was an incandescent glow in Yemi’s eyes as he told the story. It was obvious that he derived as much pleasure in telling the story as in experiencing it. At a point, he paused, looked at Yinka admiringly and continued, “Yinkus the Philosopher, the Aristotle of our time, you’re the man, mehn. This thing I feel, I have never felt like this before. Thank God I listened to you, bro.”

“I’m glad you did, bruv.”

Yemi turned towards the barman and called out, “Barman, two bottles of Gulder for my friend.”

On hearing that, Yinka’s eyes brightened as he hailed Yemi, “Yemiscoli, correct guy. Your head is there!”

“Yinkus the Aristotle! Mehn ... you deserve a carton of Gulder but I don’t want to be responsible for your drunkenness!”

“Yemiscoli, you know I don’t get drunk easily on Guuuulder!” He pulled in his lower lip. “Mehnnnn, if you have ever taken a bottle of Gulder before, then you will know that there’s no other beer like Guuuulder.”

Yemi smiled. “But Yinka, I wonder why you don’t have a pot belly by now with you Gulder intake.”

Yinka laughed hysterically. “Pot belly? Yemi, what you don’t know is that Gulder and my body have developed a chemistry that is second to none. It will never harm my body.”

Yemi laughed. “Talk of a drunk man,” he teased.

“Nope! Talk of a wise man; wisdom of Aristotle.” Yinka took a sip from his glass cup and licked his lips. Both of them laughed. “Yemiscoli, have I ever told you ...”

“The meaning of Gulder?” Yemi interrupted. “Yes! One million and one times.”

“Ehn-ehn.”

“Now, back to where we were. Bro, I think I have eventually found my True Love. How ironic! Who would have thought that my True Love could pinch her tent in the ghetto? Wow! This world is full of surprises.”

“But I told you that True Love doesn’t have a particular address. I’m happy for you brother.”

“Thank God you opened my eyes to it. But Yinka, there’s a problem.”

“Problem? What problem is that?”

“Mum!”

“Mum? What about her?”

“Mum prefers me marrying Nicole. If not Nicole then it will take someone in her class to get my mum’s buy-in. And Simisola ...” He paused. “Hmmm!” He sighed. “Simisola is way too low for mum’s standard and I smell trouble; a big one at that.” The glow in his eyes disappeared.

“Hmmmm!” Yinka placed his glass cup on the table and relaxed his back on his seat. “Now tell me, what’s so special about Nicole that makes her the golden apple in your mum’s eyes?”

Nicole was a childhood and family friend of Yemi’s. She was the daughter of Mr and Mr Abimbola, best friends of Mr and Mrs Williams. Her father was a wealthy real estate mogul with properties in prime areas of Abuja, Lagos, Port Harcourt, Dubai, London, and the United States of America. Like Yemi, Nicole was also schooled in the United States of America. She had a successful career as a TV presenter and commanded a massive followership both in the brick and mortal world and on social media; she was the star so many loved. She had loved Yemi since their teenage years.

Since Yemi and Nicole were little children, their mothers had agreed that they would marry each other when they grew up. The women believed that such consummation would further strengthen the bond between both families. Nicole had often heard this from her mother, so she had grown up with a subconscious feeling of being Yemi’s rightful lover and owner.

Though they had been close friends, Yemi had never taken his mother’s talks about marrying Nicole seriously. Nicole was a fair, beautiful young lady who preferred her natural hair to the artificial ones most ladies wore about. If beauty was the sole criterion for marriage, one would have wondered if Yemi had grown nuts in his brain not to have reciprocated Nicole’s feelings for she was as pretty as a goddess.

“That’s interesting. So, it’s more like you two were betrothed to each other from childhood.” Yinka inferred.

“Exactly! That’s the point and that’s why mum is so particular about Nicole. She has her reputation with her friend to protect. I enjoy this little freewill because of dad. Thank God is was just an informal arrangement between our mothers and not our fathers.”

“This is not looking good, Yemiscoli. But if you asked me, in this time and age I don’t think our parents should be the ones dictating or arranging our marriage mates. At the same time, I can’t advise you to rebel against your mum either.”

“So, what do you advice I do?”

“Hmmm ...” Yinka poured himself some more beer. The tiny golden bubbles sparkled and the foam rose to the brim of the cup. He gulped it down and licked his lips as usual. “I think what you have to do is to groom Simisola up to your mum’s standard. That’s all. If that means you have to hire a tutor or something, fine. So, by the time you present her to your mum, you would have elevated her level considerably.”

“Wow! Pretty idea! How come I haven’t thought of this?”

“You are not the one who drinks Gulder. Remember?”

“I’ve always known that your brain works best when taking your Guuuulder.” He turned to the barman again, “Barman, two more bottles of Gulder for my friend.”

“Yeah. You can say that again, Yemiscoli my man.”

“You’re the man, Yinkus the Aristotle!”

Yinka belched and they both laughed heartily. Yinka reached for his glass of Gulder once more. Yemi watched as his best friend licked his lips and belched after downing another glass of the beer. It still beat his imagination how Yinka had been able to keep his stomach flat despite his fondness for Gulder. Anyways, one wouldn’t have expected less from a frequent user of the gym. Yinka enjoyed exercising as much as he enjoyed his bottles of Gulder.

Yemi had met him while in college in the States and had fallen for his superlative reasoning ability--for which he earned the moniker, ‘Yinkus the Aristotle’ back in college. More so, they shared the same sentiments about being proud of their motherland. They had become bosom friends ever since. When Yemi made known his intention to return to Nigeria, the idea sounded good to Yinka and they both relocated to Nigeria. Yinka lived a few blocks from Yemi in Banana Island and they engaged in early morning jogging and other exercises at the gym together.

At about 9.30 p.m., the two friends left the bar. On getting home, Yemi whistled and swayed happily, whirling his car keys round his forefinger on his way to his bedroom upstairs. After some short ecstatic dance steps, he crashed into his bed. A joyous grin escaped his lips as he thought back to his outing with Simisola. He was elated that Yinka had again provided a solution to his problem. He was enthusiastic that Simisola had the intelligence needed to make the task of grooming her to taste easy. He picked up his phone and called Simisola. She picked at once and the two were locked in a conversation that was not only long and intimate but that took them to the world of fantasy and daydreams.



To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

how can I get the complete story

YINKS89:
He'll surely have to earn it especially wre we have shakirah.

Abi ooooo, Yinks89.

skubido:
Tanks a lot 4d update.




U too much.

Skubido, I sight you.

JamesKudooski:


Abi ooooo, Yinks89.

since I share d same name with that oda yinka den... Les gt more update

rukidanty:
how can I get the complete story

Rukidanty, you can get the complete book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

Interesting story Op

JamesKudooski:


Skubido, I sight you.

WaGbayi baba

EPISODE 20
(CHAPTER SEVEN)


Yemi visited Pink Roses from time to time. One Saturday afternoon, he decided to stop by on his way back from the project site but Simisola was not around. After both Ngozi and Yemi tried her phone severally without results, the overly zealous Ngozi suggested she took him to Simisola’s house. The idea sounded good to Yemi and they both got into the car and left. After driving some distance, Ngozi advised that they parked the car and continued on foot as the remaining part of the road wasn’t accessible with the car.

As they walked the street, Yemi got carried away by the different sights that welcomed him. He saw sweaty boys covered in dust playing soccer on the rough road. They made small goal posts from stones placed a short distance apart. He watched with admiration as they exhibited great skills with the ball. What really caught his fancy was a small boy who masterfully dribbled those who were much older than him. He was fun to watch. He watched as the crowd cheered the little footballer, calling him names of international soccer stars. He definitely was the ‘Messi’ on the rough ‘pitch’. Yemi, no doubt, saw that the boys enjoyed so much the game he heard some of them called ‘Monkey Post’.

He also saw kids who wore nothing but pants rolling bicycle and car tyres about and mimicking the sound of moving vehicles as they did so. Some even honked with their mouths. He was so thrilled by the scenes that he didn’t know when he burst out laughing. “Wow! This is great. These dudes are surely having great fun.” He came to appreciate the fact that people didn’t necessarily have to be rich or live in mansions to be happy. Here were people who had very little yet were having a swell time with the little they had.

Just then, the ‘Messi’ made a superlative dribble and fired a thunderous shot that blazed through the open post. “Gooooooooaaalll!!!” they screamed in celebration but stopped immediately they saw the direction the ball was heading. The dirty ball was heading with rage towards the neatly dressed Yemi and Ngozi!

“Aaaah!” the boys said as they covered their widely opened mouths with their palms, watching the ball helplessly. A thousand and one thoughts ran through their minds. It was obvious that the muddy ball was going to hit the ‘Aje-butter’ and stain his cloths badly and they didn’t know what reaction to expect. But to their surprise, Yemi controlled the ball like a professional footballer and joggled the ball skilfully without minding the dirt. The boys started cheering, “Eeeeeh ... Eeeeeh ... Eeeeeh!!” After entertaining the boys with some joggling skills, he kicked the ball back to them and they cheered some more, “Eeeeeeeeeeeeh! Lionel Messi!!!” He laughed and gave the boys a thumbs up sign. He looked down at his shoes. “Oh-oh.” He puckered. They were messy!

Ngozi smiled and shook her head in wonderment, “Ah, Bros Oyinbo?”

“Ngozi, what?” He smiled. “I play football, you know.”

After walking down the street a little more, Ngozi took him through an alley that lead to a cluster of tenement buildings closely packed together. Simisola’s house was the one with whitewashed walls and an open space at the front. The house was a sixteen-room tenement building (popularly called face-me-and-face-you) with two rows of eight rooms each. The rows were separated by a long poorly lit passage way between them leading to an open backyard where a general kitchen, bathroom, and toilet stood.

The kitchen had several kerosene stoves and mini cupboards belonging to the tenants. In a place like this, it wasn’t uncommon to see some tenants cooking in their rooms, against the instructions of the landlord, in order to maintain some privacy and avoid the rowdiness of such kitchens. Buckets, jerry cans, and drums for storing water lined the walls of the backyard. A narrow gutter carried water from the bathroom down to a bigger one at the front of the house.

Ngozi and Yemi greeted some women doing their laundry at the front of the house before making it through the passage way. Simisola’s room was the fourth on the right. Ngozi knocked on the door.


“Who’s that?” They heard Simisola answered from inside.

“It is me, Ngozi.”

“Ah, Omo-Ibo, what are you ...” She froze as she opened the door and saw Yemi smiling behind Ngozi. “Ah! Mr Yemi? Erm ... Erm ...” She squirmed in embarrassment. “Please come in ... inside, sir.” She wondered what Ngozi was thinking to have brought Yemi to the home she considered not presentable enough for someone of Yemi’s pedigree.

Both Yemi and Ngozi entered while she shut the door behind them. Yemi took a cursory scan of the room. It stood in contrast to the entire building in that it was tidy and neatly arranged. The room was small. Her bed was at the far end of the room. She had two small chairs and a small wooden centre table. A wall hanger that held her dresses hung above the space next to the bed. ‘Ghana-must-go’ bags that served as her wardrobe rested neatly below the hanger. Opposite the bed stood an old fourteen-inch-television box and a small stereo. A kerosene stove with a pot sitting on it and another one stationed beside it was at a corner of the room. Just before sitting down on one of the chairs, Yemi spotted the drawer he suspected must had been the ‘safe’ that was burgled the first day he met Simisola. Simisola sat on the next available chair while Ngozi sat on the bed.

As Yemi sat down, Simisola held her breath and silently prayed that the small hidden nail that had decorated the buttocks of her visitors with holes wouldn’t poke his buttocks. The rogue nail had embarrassed her several times in the past. Unfortunately, the nail had hidden itself carefully that Simisola had not been able to remove it. She ordinarily would have been the one to take the seat if not for the few seconds she stayed behind to shut the door and that the unsuspecting Yemi had unknowingly chosen it.

She heaved a sighed of relief when she didn’t hear Yemi make the usual sound victims of the rogue nail often made. She knew that the silly nail had behaved itself this once. Simisola sat down downcast, fumbling with her fingers. She was too ashamed to look up at Yemi. Yemi sensed her uneasiness and decided to make light the matter.

“Simi, what a nice place you have here.”

“Nice place? You call this a nice place, sir?”

“I am dead serious. It’s looking nice, neat, and presentable.”

“Oh, thank you, sir,” she smiled and Yemi knew his efforts were working.

Yemi then saw the half-finished plate of rice on the table, evidence that Simisola was eating before they came in. Her oily lips confirmed it.

“Wow! Simisola, it looks like you were enjoying yourself before we came in. No wonder my nose was dancing when I came in. Do you mind if I have some? I’m famished!” he said. He wasn’t really hungry. He just wanted to make Simisola feel comfortable with his unannounced visit.

“Ah! My ‘concoction rice’? I’m ... I ... I’m ... not sure you can eat this, sir.” Her eyelids batted uncontrollably out of embarrassment. She turned to Ngozi. “Am I not right, Ngozi?” She needed a backup.

Ngozi rolled her eyes and kept mute.

“Why not let me be the judge of that, Simi?” Yemi insisted.

She turned to look at Ngozi. Her expression changed into a frown. She eyed Ngozi. Ngozi got the message. She was in effect saying, “Omo Ibo, I will kill you for this!” Ngozi threw her eyes to the other direction as if she didn’t care.

Sensing her reluctance, Yemi went further, “Well, Simi, it’s okay if you don’t want to share ...”

“Nooooo, sir. I was just worried you might not like the food.” With that, she quickly got up and served Yemi. She didn’t want to come across as someone who didn’t like to share especially not with Yemi after all he had done for her. Yemi smiled. He knew he had just hit the right spot to propel her to act.

“Here it is, sir.” She presented the food in a tray.

“Ah-ah, me nko? Is it only Mr Yemi that you will serve?” Ngozi spoke up feigning a frown.

“You are not serious, Omo Ibo. If you are hungry you better go and serve yourself or you will starve.” She excused herself and after a few minutes, she came back with bottles of Malta Guinness and table water.

“Where did those come from?” Yemi inquired.

“Across the street. There’s a shop over there where they sell cold drinks.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you.”

Simisola sat down and watched as Yemi began to eat the food. She was praying he enjoyed it.

“Hmmmmmmm ...” Yemi muffled after taking the first spoon with his eyes closed.

“What is it, sir?” Simisola was scared. Had he hit on a pebble? She was seriously hoping that wasn’t the case.

“This food is ...” Simisola held her breath. Yemi continued, “fabulous! It is extremely delicious. Did you attend catering classes, Simisola?”

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She smiled and blushed as she answered, “No sir.”

“Then, you must be a great cook.”

“I try a little, sir,” she responded, looking down to hide her grin.

“Impressive.”

Ngozi watched attentively as the two of them conversed. She smiled but minded her food. Simisola flushed repeatedly as she watched Yemi did justice to the food. She could tell that he enjoyed every morsel of the meal given the way he ate it and she was happy about that. She was especially impressed by his down-to-earth attitude. Here was a wealthy, high profile man that lived, slept, and ate in luxury, sitting in her small room in an unpresentable ghetto house and enjoying her ‘concoction rice’ as if it was a meal prepared in heaven.

“Simisola, mehn, if I ate your food one more time, God knows I will become a slave to you.”

“Ah-ah, Mr Yemi. This flattery is too much.” She blushed again.

“Simisola”

“Yes, sir.”

“I thought we had an understanding.”

“That what, sir?”

“That you will call me Yemi instead of this your ‘Mr Yemi’ and this ‘Sir’, ‘Sir’ of yours.”

“Yes ... but I still feel uncomfortable calling you like that, sir.”

“And I feel uncomfortable hearing the ‘Mr Yemi’ and ‘Sir’ all the time too.”

“Okay, I will try, ssssi ...”

“Okay, let me make it easy for you. I think I will have to stop coming around. At least that way, I won’t be hearing this ‘Mr’ and ‘Sir’ all the time.”

“Ah! You don’t have to do that, Yemi. I will adjust. I promise you, Yemi.”

“Better.”

After the meal, he spent some more time with the ladies. They cracked jokes, played Ludo game, and watched her photo album together. He made Simisola feel at home in her own home. By the time he was ready to leave, Simisola had so much enjoyed his visit that she wished he didn’t have to leave. But he had to. Simisola decided to walk them to the car. When they got outside, Yemi was few steps ahead of them because Simisola had to lock the door while Ngozi lingered behind a little waiting for Simisola. Immediately she locked the door, she pinched Ngozi and whispered to her, “Omo Ibo, you no try at all. In fact, I go killed you today. How you go carry Yemi come this jagajaga house?”

Ngozi whispered back, “You no serious, yeye girl. Na me say make you no charge your phone? When we dey try the phone and the thing dey say switched off. Bros Oyinbo had to see him babe nah; Romeo gat to see his Juliet you know.” She winked. “Apart from that sef, how long you go fit hide your place from am? The earlier, the better. Na wetin Oyinbo people talk be dat.”

“I go strangle you today, Omo Ibo. Wait make Yemi go finish.”

“You don forget say na me be Omo Ibo; na me dey chop akpu? I strong kakaraka.” Ngozi waved her fist in front of Simisola. “This one na one blow, seven die.”

Just then Yemi turned back. “What’s up with you ladies?”

The two ladies looked at each other quickly and faked a smile. “Nothing,” they answered in one accord and quickened their steps to catch up with him.

Soon, they were at the car. Yemi entered into the car while Simisola came to his side of the car and rested on the door. She looked straight into his eyeballs. The look was powerful and said volumes. She held his hand and said in a soft, inviting voice that almost sent him into a frenzy, “Thank you so much, Yemi.”

Those eyes. Yes, those dark, beautiful, and fascinating eyes! They reminded him of an occasion he stumbled into a celebrated model in Miami. His head had spun in circles and had felt like he was floating in the air. He felt exactly the same way now looking at Simisola.

She rubbed the hand softly. The touch sent bolts of electric charges through him and flung him across oceans and mountains to cloud nine in an instant. He felt like pulling her close and kissing her succulent lips affectionately. The feeling was mutual. They held each other’s gaze. Her searching look spotted something deep inside him; it was an inextinguishable fire and it consumed her in a flash. It sent sparkling currents down her spine and took her breath away. Her legs wobbled. Her strength waned. She could only pray the car didn’t move immediately so that she could regain her strength lest she fell. She had never felt anything this strong before. But wait! On second thought, falling might be a good idea. It only had to be falling into his strong arms and being whisked away into the land of fairytales!

And so it was that Love found its target in their hearts, igniting a burning passion that birthed one of the most unlikely relationships in human history.



To be continued ... Watch Out for the Next Episode!

NB: The book is NOW AVAILABLE on online stores. For those who don't want to wait for each episode to be released, get the book here:

1. OKADABOOKS: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/jewel_from_the_ghetto/18237

2. SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/814412


Àdùkẹ́!
...My Story, My World.

YINKS89:
since I share d same name with that oda yinka den... Les gt more update

True talk, Yinks89. But do you drink Guuuuuuulder too?

Joislim:
Interesting story Op

Joislim, glad you are finding the story interesting.

JamesKudooski:


True talk, Yinks89. But do you drink Guuuuuuulder too?

I don't drink.

very interesting story.. let me relax with my Heineken and wait for the next update

Tanks a lot 4d update. Jah bless




Good morning

rukidanty:
very interesting story.. let me relax with my Heineken and wait for the next update

YINKS89:
I don't drink.

Wow! Splendid.

skubido:
Tanks a lot 4d update. Jah bless




Good morning

Good morning Skubido,

UWC.

JamesKudooski:


Wow! Splendid.

althou I've done dat in d past Bt found out Ts nt worth it