................

I remember the day I was too ill to participate, let alone attend the dance festival of my age group in the village. I remembered the pain I felt knowing that Iheoma and my peers would be out there jiggling and shaking their small rotund buttocks while I lay on my bed hapless and helpless. I cried my soul out that day like I am doing now, as I am being led out to find my “Iyi-Uwa”. The only difference is that today the gods are crying along with me and as the intensity of my tears increases so does the out pour of the rain outside. It was like the celestial bodies were mourning the iniquities of my life along with me.

The search is about to begin and I am surrounded by a handful of the villagers but I am surprisingly filled with renewed vigour because of the sacrifice I have decided to make today. Deep down I know I won’t survive the night for I most surely would die from the long trek into the forest, but I would rather die than face the painful rites of “Ibe-Ugwu”. I go light hearted and with hope because of the promise my missionary teacher made to me. He was the only one who vehemently fought for my release, he was the only one who came to visit me throughout the two weeks I spent in the dibia’s shrine and he was the reason I agreed to take them on this wild goose chase for if I hadn’t, he would surely have been harmed for interfering. His explanations that my Nna and Nne were the reasons for their predicaments fell on deaf ears, he tried to explain that there was something in both their genes that made them incompatible and therefore led to them birthing sick children but that only further infuriated Nna and the elders for they were willing to use the gods to blame an innocent child for nothing she knew about rather than accept the blame.

I remember his last words as he left my side, “Anyuli I will do everything in my power to help you because I know that this isn’t your doing, I leave you now not because I want to abandon you but because I want to gather help and save you from this hell, and with the support of the mission I will forever put an end to this abomination. Wish me God’s speed and wait for my return,” Then he mounted his shiny bicycle and rode towards the sunset. Tonight I pay the ultimate sacrifice for others like me out there so remember my names, “Anwuli” which I was named because I was supposed to bring happiness along with me, that same happiness I have been accused of robbing off my Nna and Nne. “Okwukwe” which I was named for I had brought hope to my parents, the hope they have lost in me and that I am now giving to others like me out there, and “Ifunaya” which I was named because of the love I had brought along with me into this world, the same love I have lost from my everyone and now showing to you all by sacrificing myself. Please weep for me, please remember me.






LOVE YOU GUYS.....

......

'Is there anyone there?' she asked out loud uncaring the wisdom of speaking out loud. She had power, the bruises on her face and the wounds on her hand told her that much.

The silence that answered her question ensured Chamzo's embarrassment. She was flighty, paranoid like a criminal. A few moments passed before she heard Olkani's voice reassuring her that she was coming and no one was in the house but them two. Still uncertain Chamzo rose steadily and moved towards the open door to look in search of the person that shadow belonged to. The only person she saw was Olkani waddling towards her comfortably balancing a heavy tray laden with a jug of sweetly spiced tea and a platter with sweets of coconut, sugar and cardamom. Chamzo rushed forward to collect the tray from Olkani.

Back within the confines of the guest entertainment room, both women settled on the carpet supported by plump cushions. Chamzo watched Olkani serve the steaming tea in small cups of bronze, her stomach rumbled in hunger as the aroma of the sweets wafted to her nose. How long could she survive her escape?

no body commented on the write-up......i will cry
any way is a way.....
I will happily give u d rest...

.......sorry it took me soooooo long to upload..............



...........
“I will like to take your orders, Oga”
The waiter at the Imo Concorde Hotel said. He wore a red bow tie. I wandered if he had a valentine. Or if he was cursing the stones because he had to work on such a lovely day. I also noticed that he had funa's check bones. Strong and proud.
“Oh yes, I will have rice & salad” I replied, as my jaw almost dropped while ‘Funa squeezed my hand. His touch warm, but like ice; sending shivers up my arm. I couldn’t believe I could be on earth, but have an angel sit across me.
Funa didn’t place an order. He said he’d watch me eat.
But knowing funa and his appetite, I figured that he couldn’t afford lunch for two at this exquisite hotel, so he wanted only me to eat. I looked over to the table by our right and i saw this very pretty young ladies, in her 20's accept to an old eye-burgling man's proposal. He was too old he couldn't stand up to kiss her hand, as funa did. Then Ikemefuna kissed my left hand,as if to draw my attention to his beautiful gaze. It was beautiful.


"“Help! Help! We need help here. My wife is still breathing.” Help! Smoke filled the whole room, children and mothers lay burnt like waste products at Uratta housing estate. It was the last thing I remember, the lights going out and noises rising from different sections of the hotel. I couldn’t see red. I saw black burnt bodies in blur vision. ‘Funa was holding my neck, for some reason, trying to get people to come to my aid. His strong palms gave me a scar.”"


The fire started from the kitchen, it spread right through the lounge and into the restaurant I saw the old eye-bulging man leave his lover to run for his dear life. A mother tripped as she tried to make way for her 5kids to flee from their table. I couldn’t see the fire on time, but I saw blood. Noise was everywhere. I was caught up in the conversation with funa. He told me sweet little stories of mermaids and cartoons. He told me about playing hide and seek in his village while growing up. Then the fire reached the table close to us. It was spreading. I became hot.

""The Imo Concorde hotel was set ablaze by unknown people. It claimed the lives of 267people, with only 3 survivors. The fire lasted for about 45minutes before it was put out, one lady who survived was found under her husband’s body. Rumor has it that the man lay on top of her to shield her from the fire. Nothing has been said about compensating the victims. Barrister Emeka Chidubem survived as well as Mrs Igwe and the lady saved by love…Mrs Paulina Ikemefuna-…….”"


The radio stations couldn’t stop saying it, the women on the streets couldn’t stop gossiping, and the lovers in my town couldn’t stop whispering. It was the most tragic thing in the history of love in my town.
I couldn’t stand hearing the presenter complete the name. My husband is dead. He died before he could watch the sunset with me. Before he could teach our un-born baby how to hunt and wrestle. I was finally at home, staring at the bottle of fragrance ‘Funa bought for me, it has only been 24 hours and I’ve walked through the hottest part of hell and back, I made my way through the door, and headed out. I walked 3hrs, 279kl. It was cold. The rain poured heavily, as if to mean that ‘Funa has been received by the Angels. The Angels of love. When I got to the supermarket, I handed the perfume over to the shop assistant. She spoke under her breath, something in Igbo. She was from Anambra so I couldn’t pick so much out of what she said, but I was sure she was talking about me. Suddenly, I had become more famous than Zik within a period of a woman's child labour. I didn’t give her a second look. She was smiling like a baby born at the General Hospital where only the rich go to; wearing a red dress with a black hat. I wandered if her boyfriend took her out. I was jealous. Jealous of the smile across her face, Jealous of the fact that Funa paid too much concentration on this day. Jealous that her red dress had more glitters than mine. It wasn’t all so much in the end. I returned the un-used perfume ‘Funa gave me and stormed out. I spent the night before life goes on, walking home in the rain to an empty room, an empty bed, trying to remember our last kiss; while singing the sweet songs of the legendary Michael Bolton.






love you all........

jaylove007:


NO, HE ISN'T THE WRITER OF THIS. GO TO www.edithsmiles..com.

Anosike Keside is the original writer.

.........SORRY.....BUT YOUR SOURCE WASN'T FOUND


the story continues.......

“Girl, you need to have seen the bag! Smooth, real crocodile skin like polished silver! And in a beautiful shade of chocolate brown! It was lust at first sight!”

“Why didn’t you buy it then if it was so pretty?” asked Meera, smiling at her friend’s colourful language.

Tracy grimaced as if she had tasted some bitter medicine.
“It’s my dad o! He seized all my credit cards and placed a limit on the amount I can spend while shopping. And do you know how much that is?” she queried. Meera looked at her eagerly like one expecting a great story.

“N500k! Can you imagine! A whole me, Tracy! What am I supposed to buy with that kind of money! It’s not even enough for a designer dress and a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. God, that old man is driving me nuts!” she said with feeling.
From the other end of the large sitting room, I sat reading a newspaper while paying half an ear to the conversation between Meera, my wife and one of her closest friends, Tracy. I could always predict what they spoke about whenever they met for some ‘girl time’ as my wife put it. It was often about the latest designer clothes, shoes and bags, the ‘hottest’ human hair weave from Brazil or one Asian country or the other, the best diet to trim belly fat and so on...
Initially, I had found it all amusing but recently, it was beginning to get on my nerves. I couldn’t understand their obsession with such stuff, things I considered frivolities.
“You know your problem, Dave. You take life too seriously! Learn to relax. And enjoy life! And what is money meant for if not for spending on things one likes?” she had said a few weeks before when I had complained about her spending habits especially on clothes.
You see, Meera grew up in great wealth. Her late father, a multi-millionaire industrialist and businessman had denied her nothing as a child. She had thus grown up with a sense of entitlement, that she could get anything she wanted in life. And she usually did. Afterall, she got me, didn’t she? But I’m getting ahead of my story...
I turned the paper to the sports section and was reading a story on the recent titanic clash between Chelsea and Man U in the English Premier League competition when my four year-old-daughter Cyndi came into the room. She had just woken up from a nap and her eyes looked swollen with sleep. “Daddy I’m hungry! I want something to eat!” she demanded, tugging impatiently at my hand. I looked in the direction of her mother who was still chatting animatedly with her friend.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you meet Mummy? I’m sure she will prepare something nice for you to eat,” I told her, caressing her plump cheeks fondly.
She skipped towards her mother and I returned to my paper.
“Can’t you see I’m busy? Go and meet Cook!” I heard my wife telling Cyndi in a sharp tone of voice.
“But, Mummy, she’s not at home! And I’m hungry!” And she began to cry. Being Sunday, it was the Cook’s day off. Usually, one of the two maids we had did the cooking during the man’s off days. But both were not around as well. So, why can’t Meera, the madam of the house do the cooking, you might wonder. The truth was that she can’t cook. That might sound strange to some people that a grown woman with a family can’t cook but it’s the truth. And there’s a reason for it which I will explain to you, dear reader later.
As I could not bear to see Cyndi cry, I had to go to the kitchen to prepare lunch that day. After feeding my daughter, I also made some food for Meera and her friend.
“This is nice,” Tracy said as she ate the rice I had prepared. Then turning to me, she added:
“You must be an exception as most men I know can’t cook. You seem to have so many talents. I envy you Meera. You don’t know how lucky you are to have him.”
Meera didn’t say anything but simply focused on her food. As I left the table, I could feel Tracy’s eyes boring into me and even without looking at her, I knew what the expression in them would be. Lust. Desire. Longing.
My wife’s friend had never hidden the fact that she wanted me to date her. It didn’t start recently. It all began from the early days when I first met Meera and our story began:









........THE STORY CONTINUES.....

The gangster’s girlfriend (2)
The following week, Jovi came to the shop with a girl of about my age whom I thought was the girlfriend. But as it turned out, she was his younger sister who had come from their hometown to visit him. He had brought her to do some shopping and I was glad as he spent so much money that day on clothes, shoes, accessories and other stuff.

“So, when can I see you again?” he asked when the sister and an attendant had taken the items to the car outside.
I told him I was busy, that I would let him know when I was a bit free
“Please make it soon as I really want to see you,” he stated. Before leaving, he gave me some money as a tip, “for attending to us so well,” as he put it.
After that second meeting, Jovi kept calling me to take me out. I had no boyfriend then as the guy I used to date back in school had dumped me for someone else after I dropped out of school. Relationships were the last thing on my mind then as I just wanted to focus on my work and making enough money to go back to school. Jane had been on my neck, though, pestering me to start dating again. “How can you just stay like that, without a boyfriend when you are not a nun!” she often used to say.


One evening at the shop, we were getting ready to close for the day when Jovi arrived. I was not expecting him and I looked up in surprise when he came in through the door. He was dressed in shorts and a cream T- shirt.
He waited while I locked up and gave one of the girls assisting me some errands for the following day. We then stood outside by his car, chatting.
“So when can I get an answer to my request?” he asked, looking at me intently.
I shrugged.
“I don’t know. The thing is that, I’m not interested in a relationship now. Maybe we can just be friends or something.”
He sighed.

“I doubt if I can just be friends with you. You see, since I met you, I think about you all the time; you are always on my mind,” he said.
I smiled, then changing the subject, asked:
“So, are you going jogging or something, the way you are dressed?”
He laughed.
“Actually, I’m going to the football field. There’s a group of young boys I coach regularly at a school on the other end of town. We have a meeting this evening to discuss about a youth football tournament coming up soon. Will you like to come? Maybe we can go out for drinks later,” he asked.
I thought about it then said:

“I would have loved to but I can’t. I have to get home to brief my Madam on sales today at the boutique. I’m usually free on Sundays, though. Perhaps, we can make it then.”
“Ok. I’ll call you so we can fix a time. I really look forward to hanging out with you,” he said, smiling warmly at me.
The following Sunday, he came to pick me up at an appointed place and we left for the field where the boys usually practised every weekend. Most of them were already there when we arrived.
“Hope you won’t be too bored watching us practise,” Jovi stated as we got down from the car.
”Not really. I love football,” I said. The boys, who numbered over ten and dressed in a colourful mix of shorts and T-shirts, stood around eagerly waiting for their coach.

“Alright, boys! Let’s get going,” he shouted and blowing a whistle vigorously, he started running round the field, his wards trailing behind him. They did a few laps before settling down to a game, with the boys divided into two teams.
I stood by the edge of the field, watching them as they played, with Jovi regularly shouting and dishing out instructions to them. I was so engrossed in the game that time passed quickly. Just before it got quite dark, Jovi blew the whistle for the last time and the game was over.
“Till next week then. No late coming! And behave yourselves!” he said.
“Yes, sir!” the boys chorused.
“I have to push them really hard as I want them to be fully prepared before the competition,” Jovi said after the practice. He drank some water from a bottle and after wiping his sweaty face on a towel, we got into the car and left.
He took me to an eatery not too far away and as we ate, we chatted.
“You really enjoy training those kids,” I commented.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

I shrugged.

”I see it in the passion and zeal you show while doing the job. So, tell me, how much are you getting paid for all this hard work?” I asked.
He laughed briefly before saying:
“No one is paying me a dime. I enjoy what I do. Besides, it’s my own little way of encouraging these kids, to make sure they don’t go astray like I did when I was their age,” he replied.
I looked up quickly at him, surprised at his words.
“You? I don’t believe it! You look so cool and responsible!”
He laughed again.
“Looks can be deceptive so you better believe it. I was a real wild child, a truant who got into all kinds of trouble. I really gave my parents, especially my mother tough time,” he said, smiling.
He put down his fork, then looking at me keenly, said.
“Enough about my bad past. What about you? What was your childhood like? What kind of pranks did you play?”
At his question, I grew quiet and just stared glumly at my plate of food.
“What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?” he queried, a slight frown on his face.
”No, it’s not that. It’s just that, it reminded me of my late parents, brought back memories of happier times with them,” I stated.
“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked if I had known,” he said apologetically.
I looked up then.
“It’s ok. I’m fine,” I said smiling a little.
Then I told him about my parents, how they had showered so much love and affection on me and all the horrible things that happened after their death, especially the issue with my father’s relatives.
He listened quietly while I spoke. Then when I finished, he shook his head.
“You mean you went through all this, at such a young age? How sad!” he stated.
I shrugged and said:

“That’s life. You never know what it can throw at you at anytime.”
“Yeah. You are right. But is there anything I can do to help? Especially concerning your uncles. They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with what they did. It’s criminal!” Jovi declared vehemently.
I shook my head.

“There’s nothing anyone can do now. They got away with it because of my age then. I was too young to fight them. Besides, my dad never wrote a will so even if I want to, I can’t take them to court so as to get my father’s properties back,” I explained.
“Those your uncles are really wicked. How could they do such a thing to their own brother’s child? Nasty people!” he said.
“I’ve left the matter to God to judge. I know he will see me through these dark times. And as for those my relatives, they will surely reap the fruit of their evil deeds and all the pain they caused me,” I stated.
“And I say Amen to that,” he intoned.
Later, after we had left the restaurant and were driving away, he turned to me and said.

“You know something, at least you were lucky to have inherited something from your parents, though those your greedy uncles took everything away. As for me, all I got from my old man was an old, rusted dane gun.”
“What! A gun,” I exclaimed in a surprised tone of voice.
“Yes,” he said. “It belonged to my grandfather who was a famous hunter in his day. I remember when I was a young boy, my father used to take us to the village once in a while. My grandfather would take us deep into the forest to hunt. He taught me how to use the gun and with time, I became very good at handling it. Once I killed a small deer and I was very happy.”
I looked at him, a quizzical look on my face.
“Were you not scared going into the forest? What if you were bitten by a snake or something,” I queried.
He laughed with great mirth.

“Snake, ke! That’s the last thing on your mind when you are in the bush. All you are thinking about is how to get as many wild animals or bush meat to kill so you can make some money!”
“It sounds scary,” I said.
“Yes. To an ajebutter babe like you. But to a tough guy like me, it was fun,” he said.
I laughed at that and we continued chatting till he dropped me at home.
Before driving off, he said to me:
“I’ve enjoyed our date today. Hope we can do this again.”
I had no objections to that. I liked him and enjoyed being with him so I accepted and he left.


In love
Jovi and I saw each other regularly over the next couple of months. From just liking him, I began to fall in love with him. Maybe, this had something to do with the way he treated me. Since I told him about my parents, he became very protective and was always concerned about my welfare. Nobody had cared about me that way since my parents died and I felt really touched. He was like an older brother as well as a boyfriend.
I was always happy whenever he was around. He made me laugh and helped take away some of the pain I felt from all the nasty things that had happened to me since my parents died. With time, I even introduced him to Madam J. He had come to the shop one day when she was around and I had taken him to see her.
After he had left, she said to me:
“He seems a nice young man. What does he do?” she asked.
I told her and she nodded.
“He must be doing well for himself considering his lifestyle,” she remarked.
Then pausing briefly, she asked with a slight glint in her eye:
”So, when are you two getting married?”
“Ah! Auntie! He hasn’t proposed yet! Besides, I don’t want to get married right now. I want to complete my education before thinking about such things,” I stated firmly.
“That’s ok. Getting an education is good. But marriage is also important. You know, Linda, you are like a daughter to me and I want you to be happy. So, if you like the young man and he makes you happy, then there’s no harm in considering him as a future partner. Think about it,” she said.
“Ok, Auntie,” I said smiling and left to go back to work.
That weekend, Jovi came to pick me up and we went to a wedding of a relative of his. After the ceremony, we ended up at his house. He lived alone in a nicely-furnished apartment in a quiet neighborhood in town.
“I’m hungry! Can you fix us something to eat?” he said as he made for his bedroom to UnCloth.
“But you just ate at the party! How can you be hungry again so soon!” I exclaimed.
“You call that food? That tasteless crap they served us? I need something tastier. So, get into that kitchen and fix something really nice for me, ok?”
“Yes, sir!” I stated playfully and pulling off my shoes, I went to do his bidding...
After eating, we sat watching a movie on the cable channel and by the time it finished, it was nearly 7pm.
“I’ve to get home. Auntie J will be worried about me,” I said as I got up to look for my shoes and handbag.
He came up and held me from behind.
“Must you go? I want you to stay with me tonight.”
I wriggled round to face him.
“You know that’s not possible. Auntie won’t be happy with me, sleeping outside. You know she has been very good to me and I don’t want to do anything that will upset her,” I explained.
“Ok, ok. I understand. In that case, how about staying for a little while longer. There’s still time. Don’t worry about getting home as I will drop you. There’s something important I want to discuss with you,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to the couch.
I looked at him expectantly.
“So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” I asked curiously.
”Relax. This will take some time,” he said, bending down to remove my shoes. Then reaching up, he began to unbutton my blouse.
“Jovi, what are you doing? So, this was what you had in mind all along! You are a really bad guy,” I said.
“Yes, I know. I’m bad. And looking at you makes me worse. Because it makes me think of ‘bad’ things I will like to do to you...”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like this,” he stated, cradling my face in his hands and kissing me, before starting to caress my body in a slow, sensual manner. Before long, he had taken off the singlet he had on and I ran my fingers over his chest which had a sprinkling of dark, sleek hair. As my hand slipped down towards his navel and below, he began to moan with pleasure...











.......THE STORY STILL CONTINUES......

guyz, thanks alot for following.......below is the second part.....

Flow.....u ar a brain-box. Kudoz.

Mazi, i don dey follow u like assasin from one thrend to another....... Ur write-up ar so on-point. Kudoz!!

Correction noted,
Thanks for following..... That isn't d end, this is just d begining....

Oh no!!.....cool
don't go attempt suicide.

I just can't imagine my parents lecturing me about 'se.x education' after all d 'blue films and porn magz' under my bed......
I recormend dis movie 'LIFE ON TOP'...... And u won't need Mazi.

When I was very young, my mother used to tell me to be careful of people, that the world was full of wickedness and evil. I did not understand back then as I was just a child, not yet ten. What could a kid of that age know about the wickedness of the world? Anyway, I began to understand what she meant as I grew older. I was 15 and in secondary school when my parents died in a car accident. I was the only child and since they were well-to-do, they doted on me, giving me whatever I wanted. I lacked nothing and in a way, you could say I was a bit spoilt. I lived a sheltered life, cocooned from all the harsh realities of life.
But all that changed when I lost both parents in one day. I was at school, in boarding house when the news got to me. I was devastated, feeling as if my world had come to an end. Who was going to take care of me now, to love and protect me, I kept thinking. Looking back, if I had known what life had in store for me, I would have prayed that I had gone with my parents back then. Unfortunately, I was left behind, all alone to face this terrible world by myself.
After my parents’ burial, I went to live with an aunt of mine. She was my dad’s younger sister and to be fair to her, she was very kind to me. She ensured I finished school and provided well for me. This was unlike my father’s other siblings who were only interested in his estate. They sold his thriving business, all his properties including some plots of land, the house we lived in and cleaned out his bank accounts. They kept everything, not giving me a single kobo. When I protested, they said they were saving the money, which ran into millions, for my university education. As things turned out, it was all a lie.
When I eventually got admission, I went to see the eldest of my uncles concerning payment of my school fees and other expenses. He only gave me a part of what I asked for, claiming my dad’s money was in a fixed deposit account and he could not access it till after some time.
“This is all I can give you now. You should manage with it,” he said, handing me some money. I looked at the money, then looked up at my uncle.
“But uncle, this is not even enough for the school fees. And I have books and other stuff to buy,” I protested.
He glared at me.
“You are really ungrateful! This is my own money, from my own pocket that I’m giving you and you are still complaining! What an ungrateful child you are! How many students see this kind of money to take to school? Spoilt brat! I was always telling your father that he was spoiling you but he didn’t listen! See the result now! You better take this money and go or ...” he said, making as if he wanted to retrieve the money from me.
I left then, feeling very sad and close to tears. When I told my aunt what had happened at my uncle’s place, she shook her head and hissed.
“He will never change. Greedy man!” she muttered to herself.
She promised to make up the balance before I resumed at school, which she did. I completed my first year at school without incident. I was almost finishing my 200 level when an incident happened that threatened to truncate my education. My aunt’s husband had been pleading with me to sleep with him ever since I started staying in their house. Despite the fact that I turned down his advances, saying it was wrong for me to be having an affair with my own aunty’s husband, he continued to pester me.
Things came to a head one day, though when he began to threaten me, saying he would throw me out of the house and ensure my aunt stopped supporting my education as well. I didn’t take him serious, thinking he was just saying that to scare me. But unknown to me, he went to my aunty and told all kinds of lies against me, that I tried to seduce him several times. It was all lies but to my surprise and utter shock, my aunt believed him and took sides with him. In anger, she threw me out of the house, shouting and cursing me.
“After all I did for you, you want to snatch my husband from me. Little tramp! I never want to see you again! Get out and stay out!” she screamed as she threw my bags at me.
I had no where to go as it was during the long vacation and school was closed for the session.
I called a friend of mine and she agreed that I could stay in her house for a while. When school resumed, things got worse for me. My uncles and other aunties were no longer interested in supporting me, as a result of the false story my aunt and her husband had been spreading about me. They called me all kinds of names and were even insinuating that I was a witch and was responsible for my parents’ death. I knew it was all lies, just a ploy to cut me from my inheritance. Because when I went to my uncle to ask him to give an account of my father’s property, he drove me from his house, saying that all the money my dad left was gone, that they had spent everything on my education! I was shocked when I heard that because I knew the total amount of money he had given me for my school fees and other expenses was small compared to my dad’s wealth. I begged and pleaded with him but he remained adamant. It was the same with all his brothers and sisters.
None of them wanted to have anything to do with me. They all abandoned me and I became virtually alone in the world, too young to fight for my rights with my father’s greedy relatives. Since there was no-one to pay my school fees, I had to drop out of school. I felt really bad and wept bitter tears of sorrow and anguish. I remembered how my dad had planned to send me abroad for my higher education and I became even more saddened at my present abject situation.
That my father’s relatives treated me in such a cruel way might come as surprise to many, but looking back, I was not really surprised. You see, my father’s family had never accepted my parents’ marriage. From the story I had heard when I was younger, my dad had gone against the family’s wish and married my mum who hailed from a neighboring West African country.
“Your father’s people never liked me and they did everything to break us up,” I remember my mum telling me some years earlier. To add to her sins, she only had one child- a daughter, with no son to bear the family’s name.
“How can a man have just one child and a girl for that matter? And he’s not even bothered about it. That foreign woman must have bewitched our brother!” my dad’s relatives used to say.

Living with Madam J.
One day, while I was still squatting in my friend’s house, I ran into an old friend of my mum. I narrated to her all that had happened since my parents’ death and she took pity on me. The lady, whom I will call Madam J took me to her house and I became a part of her household. She had some businesses including a boutique and restaurant. I started working at the boutique and once in a while I also helped out at the restaurant.
Madam didn’t pay me any salary. Though every month, she gave a small allowance which she said I could use to buy personal items I needed. I opened an account and started saving some of this money. My plan was to go back to school when I had saved enough money no matter how long it took. Madam J, though very strict, was nice to me and treated me like a daughter. I enjoyed staying with her and her family. She had a daughter, Jane who was about my age and we became friends.

Meeting Jovi
Madam J was separated from her husband and lived in a large house with her two daughters, Jane and Alice. Jane was about my age and with time, we became very close. She attended a university in another town but during the holidays, we were usually together. Jane was a party and fun-loving kind of girl. She didn’t like me working at the boutique and always complained anytime I was going to work.
“Must you go to work today, Nicole? There’s a place I want to go to and I want you to come with me,” she said one morning as I got ready to go to the shop.
I turned from the mirror where I had been fixing my hair to look at her. She had entered my room while I was dressing and was lying on the bed, her face still caked with the face mask she had applied the night before. Jane suffered from pimples and tried all kinds of beauty treatments to get rid of them to no avail.
“Sorry, I can’t go with you today. We are expecting new goods at the shop this morning and your mum wants me to do the inventory. Perhaps, I can go with you some other time,” I said.
“Ah, Linda! You are so boring! Work, work, work, that’s all you do. Girl, you need to catch some fun now that you are young and fresh. Is it when you are an old woman that you will start enjoying yourself? You never want to go anywhere but that stupid shop!” she grumbled, getting up and flouncing out of the room.
I turned back to the mirror, smiling ruefully to myself and thinking that it was the money her mum made from the boutique she referred to in such a derogatory manner and her other businesses that she used to pay her school fees at the expensive private University she attended. I often wished Jane would be more appreciative of her mum’s efforts and support her more. But all she did was party and spend money as if it was going out of fashion.
In a way, Jane reminded me of myself when my parents were still alive. All I thought about was myself and my own needs and desires, never giving a thought to other people’s feelings.
A few days later, Madam J sent me to the bank to deposit some money from the sales at the shop. It was over N500,000 cash and her driver took me to the bank. I had finished depositing the money and was about to leave when a gang of robbers burst into the hall. Their faces were covered with black cloth, leaving a small space for the eyes and they brandished some mean-looking guns which they waved around menacingly. The men shouted on everyone to lie down on the floor and place our hands above our heads. There were about five of them. Three went into the inner room where I had been depositing the money a few minutes earlier while the rest kept their watchful eyes on us. I was really scared and my hands shook as I placed them over my head. It was like a scene out of a movie.
I prayed fervently that they would not shoot us. I cautiously raised my head to see what was happening and my eyes met those of one of the robbers standing at the other side of the hall.
He shouted at me to face the ground, threatening to shoot me if I didn’t comply immediately.
“Do you have a death wish?” he shouted at me, coming over to give me a hard kick on my leg. I faced down at once, my heart pounding erratically. Soon, the other men came out dragging a few bags along. Then, firing a few shots in the air, they left the bank as dramatically as they had arrived. The whole operation had taken less than twenty minutes.
After they had gone, there was pandemonium as everyone made for the exit. I ran outside to the car and we left that place as fast as possible. It was a very traumatic experience, one I prayed never to encounter again.
It was about a month later and I was going to see one of our customers who was owing us some money. I stood by the roadside, waiting for a cab when a black-colored SUV stopped by me. The man driving, leaned across the passenger seat to ask for direction to a street that was not too far from where we were. After telling him how to get to the place, he offered to give me a ride.
I declined, telling him I was waiting for a taxi. But he insisted so I got in and he drove off.
“The name’s Jovi. What’s yours?” he asked.
I introduced myself and we got chatting. He told me he was a businessman into the import and export business.
We got to the street I was going to and before alighting from the car, he gave me his card. He wanted to wait for me to finish my business so he could take me back to the shop but I told him not to bother.
“I can find my way back,” I assured him. I stood waving as he drove off.
“Nice guy,” I said quietly as pushed open the gate of our customer’s residence and made my way in.
That was how Jovi came into my life, a chance meeting that would have profound effect on my life .
.......

Ishilove:
Good heavens!

so soon......are you already in the mood

Miss Ishi, i hope dis isn't ur real life story.....but anyway, i dey feel u like tòtò. Carry go!!

Mazi_Omenuko: Dear ishi,
Did you notice that the number of viewers and followers increased tremendously? This is not unrelated to the fact that your last update has sex-plicit contents!!!
S-e-x sells fast, and its real hotcake

Bring it on dear, we can't wait for Chilo to start having real or.ga.sms.
I will bring some of my fans over here. I see ITBOMB and Emperor are already here. Those guys can smell p.o.r.n from a mile.

Mazi without s.ex is like a pen without it ink.....abeg make u leave dis born-again people alone.

Hu Ishî, chi han kun ta hun tantu hanta chan ta hu muhaà
(Dear Ishi, job well-done)

luvmijeje: Is madam gbogborogbo a ghost?I just don't understand that part.

......she's gonna be an invisible being.....only her voice could be heard (i guess).
Dis name (gbogogro.......) fit scatter person teeth.

@sambroose.....u ar on point, i'm waiting for more updates to knw watz-up.

Kudoz bro.
But u should reduce ur "i was brought back to life" stuff.
U should also be very mature and imaginary when u describe ur environment or people.
Why do i have dis feeling dat u just wanna go séxual in d write-up(my tot).
Well done, i go dey follow ya towi like shadow.
Check out my write-ups

Guyz, flow1759 is a changed person (nice guy), e don even marry with pikin.
He is only telling us about his past and not d present so don't go around trying to follow his acts, otherwise......