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IkeIgboNiile:
Really interesting story. Keep it up.

Thank you

Mhizzard:
are you the one that wore black your FB Dp?

Yeah, I'm the one.
There is only one Frank The Writer

Episode 10

The first cash-out felt like a dream come true. I didn’t expect it to be that fast, but just like Kola said, my grace is automatic. I chatted with him when finally I was calmed. I asked him how the money would be shared and how soon.

"Bro, calm down. We are together. I’m not running away with your money."

"No, I didn’t say so. I just wanted to know the latest. Remember we have a third party."

"Sure, that one wouldn’t be a problem. You will settle him yourself. The money will get to everybody."

"Okay, no problem."

"Yeah, this is just the beginning. Keep b0mbing. Your life is going to take a new turn soon," he said.

"Thank you, my boss."

"And remember one Cl!ent could change your life."

"Sure."

"So, how do I keep up with this man now that he has paid? He wants to come see me and desperately wants to video call too." I told Kola

"There are still more from where the 5K dolls came from."

I didn’t understand what he meant, so I asked him what that meant.

"I mean, where this money came from, there is still more to come from there, so continue your sweet chat with him, give him more attention now, and make him believe he’s gotten your heart. Trust me, he will pay more." Kola explained.

It was then I understood what he meant. Well, I just hope it works out. Smith has been kind and patient enough to see me on video call. I just hope he doesn’t lose it.

*

The next day, Osas came looking for me. The last time we chatted, I told him that there was progress. When we met, he asked if Smith eventually paid, and I told him the truth. He shook my hands excitedly.

"Congrats, bro." He said.

"Thank you, my guy."

"Bäd boy. Who come be Aza man?"

He actually meant whose account the money came through. That's the middleman. He asked if it was through me. I told him it was through Kola my friend who had introduced me to the game.

"Are you sure he won’t sly you? Do you trust him that much?"

"Chill, the Kola that I know won’t betray me. We have been friends since childhood."

"See, let me tell you, this is street business. You don’t trust people that way. Anybody can f*** you up, open your eyes. Don't dull oo."

"There is nothing to worry about. He won't run with my money." I assured Osas.

"I suppose to get a share from the money too," he added.

"Normal. Your share of the money will get to you. I just know Kola won’t disappoint," I replied.

Osas and I sat and had a very long talk in the corridor. I learned he has been surviving through this Yahoo for the past few months. He told me his story; how one of his uncles came to his village and promised him that he would help him learn a trade. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned, and he ended up securing a job instead, though the job wasn’t paying the way he wanted.

Sadly, the uncle d!ed the following year after he brought him to Lagos. Since then, Osas has continued to pay the rent and live in the apartment, surviving through Yahoo and other things he does. His uncle had no child or wife.

In return, I told him my story, not sparing the fact that I came from a bröken home. And my parents weren’t staying in the same place. He had this p!ty look on his face when I was done narrating it. And that was how Osas and I became close.

Later that day, I went for my usual lesson work, this time, happily. There was this joy inside my heart. Words can’t describe how I felt. I sat on the yellow Danfo bus heading to Ketu. I thought about all the possible things I would buy with the money. The one I will send to my mom. And how best to convince her about the source. I had so many things running through my head, that I couldn’t wait to receive my share of the money from Kola.

Two days later, Kola texted me. It was about the money. He told me it was 2 million plus in naira. That was the total money. I trusted him because I hadn’t done any foreign transaction before and I didn’t understand naira rates then. Kola said he would give me 75% and take the remaining 25% and from the said 75% I would give Osas whatever I want to.

Well, I didn’t argue about it. He was the one who introduced me to the game, and he received the money too. I wanted to say why not 80:20 but instead I replied. "No problem."

I didn’t have enough will to challenge his decision. Truth is, I didn’t even think 75:25. I thought he would want 40/60 or 70/30. I felt that way because I didn’t struggle to make the money anyway.

So, I sent him my details and in less than two minutes, Kola credited me with 1 million plus. That was the first time I had seven figures in my account. I stared at the figures. I can’t really recall the exact amount, but it was above 1.5 million naira.

"Thank you, boss," I texted him in appreciation with some love emojis.

"Enjoy my guy. And don’t forget there is more where that one came from, so keep b0mbing."

"Sure, I will."

"And always remember that one client could change your life."

"Definitely."

I couldn’t believe I made my first million from Yahoo in less than two months. I told myself I wouldn’t stop. I felt motivated to do more. I didn’t really think if Kola cheäted me or not. I wasn’t in the game for long to know that.

My happiness was the figures in my bank account. I barely had five figures throughout my stay at the university. So, having that kind of amount in my account felt different. I wanted to send 50K to Osas but it seemed so small. So, I doubled it because of his story. Besides, he knew the exact amount involved in it. He was the one who finalized the deal with Smith.

I had thought Osas would ask how Kola and I went about the money, but he seemed not interested. I sent him his share. He was thankful. He said I should give him updates if I have so both of us can also work together and make more money. He told me the last time he cashed out, was three months ago, and since then he has been struggling to meet potential clients. It has always been fāke, fäke accounts like him.

Back to my conversation with Smith. I continued our sweet and flirty chats. He said he wanted to see me, so I told him to wait for three weeks. By then I would be done with my Master's degree. I further told him that I would personally come to the U.S. and see him myself. That was what Kola suggested. He said that was the best way to make him send more money. Because I would ask him to send flight money, which he would gladly do. Kola said after that, we will conclude what next to do with him.

I still kept in touch with other cliënts, building relationships with them while waiting for an opportunity to strike. Smith was too quick to pay, I won’t lie. I didn’t expect it that soon. Kola was hopeful he would pay more and this time, he would page hugely.

Well, money sweet sha. Now that I have a million plus in my account, what’s next?

In the next episode, I will tell you how I spent it and how my life continued after my first cash out.

To be continued..
©Frank The Writer




More comments to unlock the next episode

Xavier5:
frankwriter, nice read, but it could have been better. It could have been better in the sense that the story was rushed. There were lots of events and adventures that weren't detailed or explored, but should have.

* The relationship between Frank and Benita should have been explored in details.
* The relationship and adventures of Frank with Chris and Cynthia should been well detailed.
* The relationship between Frank and Benita after graduation should have been explored, especially Frank's relationship with Benita's father, likewise the reason she changed her phone and lost his number.

These events are elements with rich story potentials but unfortunately those potentials weren't seen thanks to compressing and summarizing everything into a chapter. Seriously, justice wasn't done to the story. The story deserves more than this.

But all in all, nice work 🙃.




#Xavier

Yeah, the story was rushed by me. I intentionally did so because, at that time, I was multitasking myself and my fans on Facebook were calling and asking for the next episode.
So, I decided to conclude the story before most of them lost interest. And to also focus on what I was doing, too.


All protocols duly observed.
Thank you, Xavier.

GuyFawkes7:
I still remember vividly when my own homie sly me of 8k dos back then 2020......werey say the work done die and I later heard from his friends say the aza nor die say maye pay.......

Any how sha,this work of art dey give me nostalgia..

Chaiii... Though, this story is not here to promote fraud

The end of the story is what matters.


In case I'm unable to complete this story on this platform, y'all should follow my Facebook page: Frank The Writer.

Shomek:
hi mr frank i have been wanted to chat with u on ur fb acc but u are not replying me
i want to tell u that i want to repost this your story am going to put ur name

What's your name on Facebook?

I barely open my messenger on my page.

The messages there are always "Hi, Hello"

Episode 9

I was actually confused about how to go about the fictional brother I told Smith that went out to get something for me. I contemplated whether to use my normal voice and make it sound thicker.

Usually, when Smith and I talked, I sounded like a lady, but I feared he might find out if I still use my voice as that of my brother. What do I do now?
I quickly reached out to Kola. Dude said I shouldn’t have told him about my brother’s part. He thought for some seconds and asked if any coded guy was leaving in our apartment.

“Yes, but I don’t know if he’s around. I haven’t seen or even spoken with him before,” I replied Kola.

Kola eventually suggested three ideas; one, try speaking as the brother. Two, get someone to play the role and not just anyhow person. Three, If the two options can’t work, see a way to cover up and fabricate more lies, and let him forget about speaking with your brother.

He hung up.

Honestly, the last option was totally out of it. Smith would start suspecting me if I tried to cover up and give him reasons why my brother couldn’t speak with him. So, I desperately walked out of our apartment and stood in the corridor to see if one of these guys I usually see in our apartment was around. I’ve seen about three different faces. Boys in their early 20s.

Smith was still texting. I sent him a voice note, telling him that my brother would be back and he would get to speak with him soon.

I had stayed outside like 30 minutes, but I didn’t see those guys. Today that I needed them, none was available. I was contemplating giving in to the third option from Kola but I felt it would ruin the whole thing.

Fortunately, 10 minutes later, the gate opened and I saw one of those guys walk in. Tall and fair-looking dude. He wore a big white polo and black shorts. I heaved a big sigh of relief. He seemed to be in a hurry from the look of things, so I quickly walked up to him.

“Bro, how far?” I stretched my hands as we shook hands together.

“I dey bro. What’s good?” he said in what sounded like Benin dialect. His intonation sounded like the Benin people of Edo State.

I didn’t waste time before telling him what I needed him to do for me. The good thing was that he was into the game and that made everything perfect. The moment I saw him, I knew he must be in the game too. My instinct never fails. His appearance also said a lot about him. H said his name was Osas and I told him mine too.

“Dave, when you are ready, hit me up.”

“I want it now before my uncle comes back, let me call him.”

I already told Osas what he would say. I showed him our previous chats, so he understood what I was up to. Even before I called Smith, we practiced shortly. I asked him questions as if I was Smith and he answered pretending to be my brother, in a very sweet American asset.
Osas sabi work!

When I opened my messenger, he already dropped messages. I noticed he was online, so I replied immediately. “How is your day going, my darling?”

“My day has been fine, except for the bäd news you shared. I’ve been worried about you, sweetheart.”

“I will be fine, darling. My brother has been doing the needful.”

“Okay. That’s good. Can I talk with him now?”

“Yes, he’s back.” I signaled Osas to get ready.

“Hi dear, I’m Smith. Your sister already told me about you and I’m glad to hear from you. You’re the best brother.”

“Hi Smith. Glad to hear from you too. My sister said so many good things about you. Hope to see you soon,” replied Osas in an American accent. He was perfect like those American movies I watched.

“Sure, we will get to meet someday. I hope she’s responding to treatment,” Smith asked.

“Yes, she is. She’s not badly injured. We’ll leave here as soon as we pay the bills,” replied Osas.

"Alright, I will discuss that with your sister. You didn’t tell me your name," said Smith.

"My bad, forgive my manners. My name is Ben."

"Alright Ben, I will discuss the bills with your sister. Give her the phone.

I took the phone and continued.

"Babe, I’ve missed you online. You haven’t been here for two days. How much is the hospital bill? Can you afford to clear it or do you need money to pay the bills?" He asked.

Osas looked at me, our eyes looked in contact. I was all smiles. Deep down, I was like, finally, this man got to pay. At the same time, I didn’t get overwhelmed. I didn’t want him to see me as needy and broke.

"Um, darling, the bill is not much, but I’ve got lots of bills to clear in school."

"Oh, that’s true. So how much do you need? I need you to leave there so you can have time for me, OK?"

My heart was tudding against my ribs. I just hope this man won’t change his mind.

"Yeah, I’ve missed you here too. I will leave here as soon as we clear the bills." I told him.

"Just tell me how much it is, OK."

“Five thousand Canadian dollars."

“Um, alright. So, how do I send you the money? Bank transfer? I’m not familiar with these banks stuff.”

“That's not a problem, darling. I need to rest up. I will text you the bank details.”

“Alright, love. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

That was the end of the call and U couldn’t be happier.
Osas shook my hand excitedly. “I will see you later. Follow him up before he changes his mind oo,” he said and we exchanged contacts before he hurriedly left the compound.

I dialed Kola's line immediately. “Dave, hwfa? What’s the update?”
I told him how everything went. He was glad about the new development and progress. He said he would send me a detailed bank account. He cautioned me not to mess up at this point. “Text him romantically more and make him madly in love.” He advised.

When we ended the call, I went on Google searching how to receive money from the US. Western Uni0n, Bank tran$fer, MoneyGräm, Remitly, and so on popped up in my search engine. I didn’t even understand any of them. Well, Kola had promised to send foreign account details that would receive the money, so I kept my cool and trusted him. It was on a Tuesday, so I wasn’t going to my lesson job.

I continued b0mbing other clients. Some of them just needed a companion and some wanted someone for s3x chat and all manner of frëaky and cräzy sh!t You know how these white folks behave. Amelia stopped texting when I told her I couldn’t video call, and that my phone was faulty. I can’t really tell why she stopped, but I didn’t care. She doesn’t look like one who would pay.
My focus was on money and not any sort of love or LG.TBQ sh!t

Fast forwarding. Kola texted me the bank details later at night. I forwarded it to Smiths and told him it was from my brother because the account had a male name attached to it. I became extra romantic, like Kola had advised after I sent him the details.
That night too, Osas chatted me up on WhatsApp. He asked about the progress and I told him how it's been going with Smith

"Correct guy. I don’t know you’re into this game too. You look so innocent," he said in a voice note, teasing me in his Benin accent. I simply replied with a laughing emoji.

"I still be JJC. I never teey for the game," I added.

"And you're already cashing out. You be bäd boy!" Replied Osas.

Moments later, Smith's message popped up on my screen.

"I sent you the money, baby. Tell your bro to confirm it," Smith. Texted me.

Wow! I felt my heart beating I was so elated. Couldn’t believe this. He sent a receipt in three seconds.

"Thank you so much, darling. You are a sweetheart. I can’t wait to get home."

"Anything for my love. I’ve missed you here badly and I can’t wait to come see you in Canada."

"Sure. Very soon."

I called Kola and he confirmed the money. He showered me with praises. "Your grace na auto," he jokingly said.

Maga finally paid. My first cash out as a Yahoo boy.

To be continued...
©️ Frank The Writer

jimmyvic:
Nice story OP

Thank you

oloyedprince1:
nice story

Gracias

MummyIMadeIt:
Nice story

Thank you

Away from The Hustler.

Guys, anticipate my incoming book!!

LITB is Coming…

This month, it’s been ten months since I released “No One Sleeps Forever” one of the best things that happened to me last year.

And before the end of this year, "Laughter In The Broken" will be released. An emotional story that leaves you with a heart full of love and hope.
It’s a typical story of an average home in Nigeria; a broken home filled with family heartaches, and unshakable mother-daughter love where expectations are high and disappointments weigh heavily.

Boluwatife the protagonist portray complex situations children from broken homes go through, which include father-daughter relationship, divorce, grandmother-daughter relationship, dating and love, Lagos life, women striving, and, a dose of adventure in a dramatic, vivid setting in South West Nigeria.

LITB promises to sweep you away until the very last page.

It was quite a process working on this masterpiece and I'm really proud it's on the way.

Coming soon to your doorstep. Don’t miss it!

The release date will be communicated to y’all soon.

"Laughter In The Broken" will be available on Amazon, ebooks, and in print.

LITB is coming..

Anticipate.

❤ 🦅

©Frank The Writer

Episode 8

So, gradually I was getting used to the game. I was a fast learner and Kola was a good teacher as well. I began to enjoy staying at home with my phone unlike the other days, I was jobless, doing nothing. I continued my lesson job on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
I was just using it to pass time.

Kola had advised me to quit, but I just couldn’t. What would I even tell my uncle? I didn’t want him and his colleague whose child was already enjoying my tutorial. Quitting the work so suddenly would surely make my uncle suspect some fishy stuff.

Deep down, I was hoping and praying that one of my clients would pay, and once the money comes, I can now decide when to quit and how to go about it. So, in the meantime, Dave, just bömb and do your tutorials.
I learned the 'bömbing' slang from Kola. He would always be like, dude, keep bômbing, your paydays are on the way. "Na who give up, F**k up."

I believed him and I didn’t relent at all. He also showed me how to bömb on YouTübe by commenting with a foreign e-mail on YouTübe videos.

Truth is, some of the comments you see on YoüTube are fakë. Some folks are just looking for client by saying they are commenting from so so country and oftentimes their pictures look alluring, just to draw attention. Though, they are still genuine ones.

There was this particular lady from one of those Facebook groups who was so obsessed with me. She kept chatting with me like a man and later said she was a Lésbian and that she would love to meet me. She said she lived in Canada. I told her I was chatting from Germany.

For every client, you will tell them a different country depending on how you both started and mostly when he or she tells you where they live. She told me her name was Amelia. Her profile looked real and got the rainbow sign on her bio as proof that she is a proud LGB.T member. She was fun to chat with and we literally joked about everything.

Smith and I also continued our conversation. I then set my time to his. Each time he was up, I would be up, and he's from the United States. He told me how his marriage packed up. He also told me he has a daughter who moved with his ex-wife in New York.

Smith always sounded emotional. He said he regretted marrying his ex-wife. According to him, the woman was a bully and so toxïc that they continually argued and fîght until he called it a quit. His daughter is just six years old. He said he’s been looking for true love thereafter.

"I want to give love another chance," he had told me.

We also did voice calls because I told him my camera was bad for the moment and no room for a video call. I got American and British access, as I said earlier, from the secondary school I went to, and I listened to foreign music as well. So, I always talked like a lady and he loved my voice. He never suspected because I tunned my voice so well, like that of a lady.
Before the voice call, I'd always be in a quiet background, mostly in the bedroom. He called me sweet names and I reciprocated.

My contact was also growing with boys who are into the game, all through Kola. The purpose was to drop updates for each other. We even have a group chat where update flows and also for security reasons, should in case the uniform men were reading a particular street, you would get informed from the group, so you don’t pass through that route and get caught. It was mainly for them because I lived quite far from Kola and his boys.

Did I forget to say that I stopped going out with my smartphone? Yes, I did. I only went out with my smaller phone. I kept the other one each time I stepped out, especially while I was heading for the lesson. I didn’t want to take chances because of the way Nigerian policemen härass and search young boys on the road. Imagine being caught when you are yet to cash out!

Kola was using his boutique to disguise himself as a businessman whereas his major source of income was Yahoo. He said once I picked money that I should look for one business and open it. Create an ID card and do the necessary business stuff and use it to frame up while still chasing the bag. He said that way, the police wouldn’t easily see me as a Yahoo boy.

He also drives about with his business cards in case the uniform men ask for his source of income or something similar, he would find something to present.
Well, I will wait to cash out first before any business idea.

One month passed and I didn’t cash out. After several b0mbing and sleepless nights, nothing to show up for it. I didn’t get discouraged, I continued. The fifteen thousand naira I got from the lesson job was used to buy data.

All this while, my uncle didn't know about my indulgence. He believed that I told him about the online class.

Kola encouraged me not to give up and that someday 'maga' must pay. I believed him. I had always believed that nothing good comes so easily. I didn’t want to bill Smith yet. Kola said I should let our relationship foster first, before any other thing. I agreed. I often entertained him with some pictures of Alexandra.
Her pictures weren't the only ones I was using for the game.

For the clïents I met on YöuTube, I used different pictures I also got from Twitter. But Alexandra was more regular in posting her pictures.
The woman was so fine. Smith was dy!ng to meet me because of her shape and endowed body. I kept promising him that I would visit his city once I rounded up with my Master's degree in Canada.

I was so skeptical to ask him for money. I was in my second month in the game and the following month would be the last month for the lesson job, which means after that I would remain jobless again. I was desperate to cash out.
Kola suggested an idea to me, which I followed duly to see if Smith would succumb.

The following day, I didn’t open Smith's message. We had bonded so well that we couldn’t go a day without long hours of text and sometimes voice calls.
That day, he kept texting, but I ignored him. I also didn’t make any random posts, too.

Two days later I still didn’t reply, he called on messenger severally but I ignored him. Though I was still texting other potential clients, Amelia was inclusive.
Smith was restless. He texted morning, afternoon, and night for those two days, even when he didn’t get any reply.

Finally, on the third day, I replied to him, he asked why I hadn’t been replying, so I told him I was involved in an accident in school.

"What? What really happened? So sorry, honey." Smith texted.

"I already knew you would be worried. That’s why I’m here to inform you," I told him.

"Damn, I’m so sorry. Can you drop your home address? I need to come see you," he texted.

"You don’t have to worry yourself. I’ll get better sooner."

"Oh, I just need to see you. I can travel just to meet you." He insisted.

"I will be fine. I only need to clear the hospital bills but I’ve got my brother here who’s taking care of me." I lied.

"That's so glad to hear. Let me speak with him." He requested.

"Sure, that’s when he returns. He went to get food for me."

"Alright, honey. Just let me know when he’s back. I’m so worried right now. I need to come see you soon."

To be continued..
©️ Frank The Writer




Don't be a gho.st reader.

Candid2022:
Ride on Frank and the readers should note that this piece is not in any way promoting fraud ❌🚫

Not at all.

It's not promoting fraud oo

That's not the intention

Mhizzard:
This story literally make me remember when i was into this game.yeah that is true 'a client can changes one's life entirely'

I dey look you with one eye

Episode 7

The following day was Sunday and I didn’t go to church because I woke up very late. My uncle had left with the hope that I would come later. It was 8:15 a.m. when I got down from bed to do my morning rituals; brush my teeth and wash my face. I stretched my arms and yawned tiredly. My eyes still hurt from last night.

I could hear sounds from different churches praising and worshipping. Unfortunately, our apartment was surrounded by Pentecostal churches and every Sunday felt like a noise pollut!on each time they began to sing, clap and hit their instruments.
One particular denomination was really good at doing this. If only they knew the havöc they caused with their noise pollut!on every week. I’m sure Lagos has thousands of different churches. It doesn’t matter if the members are ten or twenty in number, that’s immaterial.

I thought of what I would tell my uncle if he came back and found out I didn’t go to church. He wasn’t that much of a religious person, but he never misses church on Sundays and doesn’t like the idea either. Unless one had a tangible reason. If not, you don't stand to miss church on Sundays in his house.

I finally get to pick up my phone to see the latest update from the faké Facebook account I created. The blue app was the first thing I clicked on when I picked up my phone.
Damn! I had about 30 unread messages. The other man who said he loved my choice of words already called me on Messenger, but I wasn’t available. The man was already missing my presence online. I was sure he was obsessed and couldn’t wait to see my message.

I sat down on the sofa in the living room. The rotation of the ceiling fan was the only noise that filled the room. I reached for the TV and turned it on. Sunlight beamed through the windows. I began to open the messages in turns. I replied to some and left some unread.

I would check and scroll through their profile before replying to their texts. Kola told me one trick that would help me figure out faké accounts and when I noticed them in some profile, I didn’t bother replying to their texts.

At intervals, I would reach out to Kola and he would tell me what to reply. He was very active all the time. Each time I texted, it would always double-tick. And seconds later, he would reply. He kept feeding me with the right response to use on them. He reminded me not to reply faster as if I was desperate.

Time was ticking. I was there with my phone typing; replying and texting.

Then came Smith Robertson's text, the man who said he loved my vibe last night.

"Oh, my darling, where have you been? I missed our conversation."

As usual, I tried waiting for some seconds before sending him a text, but he started calling video call. I just left the app and refused to answer. He called again, so I declined and told him. I was in the middle of something. "I'm in the bathroom," I teased him.

He replied quickly.

"Wow, I can only imagine how those figures of yours look without clothes."

This man must be a pervét, I said to myself.

As we texted, I was giving Kola updates. When I told him about Smith's response, he said I should quickly transfer him from Facebook to e-mail. According to him, his kind of person would pay just to see nudës. And moving him from Facebook to e-mail would save us from losing him. Just in case the faké account gets blocked. Facebook usually bäns or blocks suspected accounts. So he configured one e-mail which I used.

Smith Robinson was my potential client. I did as Kola said, even though we continued to chat on Facebook after the e-mail stuff.

Suddenly, I looked at the time on my phone. It seemed as if time flew. A few minutes before 11 in the morning. I knew my uncle would be on his way back. The new parish priest was good at dismissing on time. I quickly turned off my data, swept the rooms, dusted the furniture, went to the kitchen, and washed the dishes.

After that, I went into the bedroom and lay there pretending to be sick, while I patiently waited for him to come in and ask why I wasn’t in the church.
So I got back with Smith and other folks in my DM. Smith was asking too many questions and wanted to do a video call.

There was something Kola usually said, and that was, "One client could change your life." My mind was already on Smith as that one client that could change my life. I was cautious and didn’t want him to give up. I kept giving him reasons why I couldn’t answer via video call. I promised him sooner he would see my face.

Kola then suggested I send him one of those uncläd pictures. I did as he said and the man was very excited.

"Such a huge bréast. I can’t wait to have them on my lips," he replied. And in my mind, I was like, look at this finished man.

"Can you send more?" He demanded.

"No, I can’t. I wasn’t supposed to send that to you. I don't know you too well, yet."

"Oh come on, you know I’m already falling. I like you. You are gorgeous. Damn, pretty damsel." He continued to blab that I should send more. I didn't send anything. And that reminded me of Alexandra. I quickly checked her Twitter account and noticed she tweeted something recently. But this time it was just a random post without pictures.

*
Sadly, I didn’t even know when my uncle walked into the bedroom because I was so glued to my phone, and the screams from our neighboring churches didn’t help matters.

"Dave, I didn’t see you in church," he said, and I was startled to see him standing there.

I wanted to say I was sick, but I didn’t look like one who was sick. I had wanted to cover myself as soon as I heard his footsteps, but he came so suddenly.

"I will go for the evening Mass," I said instead.

"You will go for evening Mass? He asked sarcastically and I nodded my head.

"Since last night you’ve been on this phone," he complained.

"Yeah, there is one online class I’ve been following lately." I lied.

He didn’t say anything, He just walked past.

Mehn, I was getting so addicted to my phone and I knew it. I hope this doesn’t affect my lesson classes.
I quickly rounded up some chats and turned off my data. It was time to hop inside the kitchen and prepare Sunday meal. Our routine was to cook after church. My uncle used to buy meat, tomatoes, and other ingredients after church.
So, whenever he comes back, we cook. Sometimes he cooked and sometimes I do it myself.

I went to the kitchen and met the ingredients right inside the basin. I washed my hands, brought down a medium pot, and turned on the gas cooker. I wasn’t bad at cooking. But my father was the best, no fluffs.

Later at night when my uncle had gone to bed, I resumed work. I didn’t want him to see me often with my phone anymore since he already noticed my recent addiction.
I was hoping to meet Smith online, but he wasn’t. Kola reminded me we share a different time. He said it might be morning or afternoon in his location. He was right. I recall we shared different times with some countries. Kola said it was another thing I should study, so I wouldn’t mess up.

"Ask him where he's texting from when next he comes online," he texted me.

Kola went on to tell me other formats I could use to bill clients as we proceeded and one of them was "Emergency."

He said I could tell them I had an emergency like I felt sick or needed money to get some treatment. It could also be house rent.

Another tip was allowance. He started by saying that one of his clients pays him $500 every weekend for his upkeep. And he has been paying him for almost 8 months now. I tried converting it into naira in my head.
The figure was mouthwatering, and that was when I realized how the new car came. If only one client could pay him $500 weekly for eight months. And some other clients might have been paying on their own terms.

This money must be made, I assured myself before sleeping that night with the thought that Smith Robinson would be my own savior.

To be continued..
©️ Frank The Writer



If you like what you're reading, Commënt & Sharé
❤❤

Posting Episode 7 right away.

GuyFawkes7:
Ex- ghost reader had to relinquish his title just to admit that this piece is maddttt....
[color=#000099][/color]

You're under arrest for being a ghost reader.

😂😂

IkeIgboNiile:
Keep it coming boss. It's getting increasingly interesting

Yes, boss.

Episode 6

That Saturday morning Kola opened my eyes to a lot of things I never knew existed. We really had a long talk and he said I could start with my phone till I get a laptop. He said there were things a laptop could do better than a cell phone.

"Dave, you need to get started. I wish you are here so I can easily show you some tips," He said.

"I might still visit Festac next month, I told him, just to make him feel that I’m interested."

"Okay, so first of all, you will need a working picture," Kola continued.

"Working picture? I don’t get it. How do you mean?."

"You need to look for a white woman’s picture."

"White woman?" I asked, perplexed by his response.

"Yeah, she must have clothed pictures and nak.ed photos," he said.

I was wowed but then he continued. It was on a WhatsApp voice call.

"The picture has to be natural and not edited or filtered like the ones on Instagram. And she must be someone who posts regularly, so you don’t lack new pictures?"

"Oh, Okay, but how am I going to get these pictures?" I asked.

"Dave, chill. I’m coming. Listen to me first."

"Alright," I said.

"The girl must be mature and se.xy and have no tatt0os to show she is responsible to some extent."

I just kept saying, okay and he went on.

"Now, about where to get these pictures, you have a Twitter account, right?" He asked.

"Yes, I do. But I’m not frequent there. I go there once or twice a week," I answered.

"Well, now you’ll be visiting there regularly. I will tell you later how to find white women accounts and then you make your choice."

That was the very last thing he told me before saying he needed to attend to something important, so he hung up.

Man, that was incredible. I had even forgotten I hadn’t eaten anything since morning. It was almost noon and I still felt filled. I already had this hope of making money in no time. I bet I was desperate to be like Kolawole. My goal was to take care of my mom and my younger siblings. I really didn’t like how they were faring at Ketu after the separation from my father. I long promised myself that if I hit it big, first of all, I would change my momma’s life. That woman has really seen 'shege' and deserves to enjoy life before she d!es in struggles and depress!on.

Well, that’s by the way. I just hope the sun shines someday.

Later in the day, I noticed Kola dropped voice notes on my DM. About three of them. None was below 4 minutes. I quickly opened his DM and played the voice notes. My uncle was in the sitting room while I lay on the bed in the bedroom. It was Saturday and he didn’t go to work on Saturdays.

After listening to Kola's voice notes, I was awestruck by the information contained in them. I didn’t hesitate to take the first step, which was getting a white woman's picture on Twitter. I followed his instructions duly, as he instructed me.
Lo and behold, there were several accounts of white women. So, I started making my choice, looking out for the ones that posted regularly without tatto0s, mature and séxy. What again? Okay, nak.ed pictures and clothed ones.

You know how these white women always flaunt their pictures online. They are good at posting pictures of them on und!es and all manner of revealing wears.

I took my time and finally decided to use one Alexandra. Her profile ticked all the required needs. She even posted a striking picture an hour ago. And she had about 900 followers on Twitter. She seemed wealthy too.

I moved on to the next step Kola told me which was creating a faké profile with the pictures on Facebook and some other free dat!ng sites.
I also foll0wed some pages like Dating and Love Pages on Facebook. I also joined a dating Facebook group with over 300k white folks.
Just like Kola had told me, I posted one of the pictures I saved from Twitter on those platforms I joined, advertising myself as a lady who needed true love and a partner.

Two hours later, when I checked my phone, my Facebook was filled with tons of text from different men from different countries. I was wowed. This thing really works like magic, I said to myself.

Some of them were double texting, desperate to get a response from me. At that moment, I felt like a Demigod. I felt on top of the world. I quickly called Kola and informed him of the latest.

"Dave, you have to chill. Don’t get too excited and lose guard. Always remember you are a woman whenever you are replying to them, so don’t mess up."

"Sure I won’t," I answered him.

The next step was getting them engaged which Kola termed the trapping stage. He said that even though the messages were coming in tons, I must take my time to select the right ones.

"You must never be quick to reply to their messages and when you do, give them time before you reply again," he had told me.

He ended the call and I got back to work.

According to Kola, if I reply quickly I would come off as cheap and desperate, making me look like scám. "And replying them fast would make them throw some stup!d questions."
They would want to know if you are truly real. But when they see you reply after an hour or so, they would make use of their time whenever they see you online, because they know you are likely not to reply again in a long while.

Doing this would get them trapped. These were things Kola said in one of those voice notes. He also said I’m likely to meet other fäke users just like me, so I should be very watchful.

Some minutes later, my post was approved in another Dating group, so many comments came in as soon as the admin approved it. And likewise, messages trooped in on my messenger. I couldn’t believe this.
The night was drawing nearer and I had been with my phone all day. I could feel it. My eyes were hurting already. But there was more work to be done.

The next step was the convincing stage. Kola sent me lïnks of other fâke Facebook accounts owned by him and his colleagues. He asked me to send a request that they would accept it. I did as he instructed.
Those accounts accepted my request, and as soon as we became friends, they all liked and commented on my profile pictures and two other posts I made just to make the account look real.

He also asked me to return the favor to those accounts, which I did quickly.
Some of the messages that came in were asking for a video call because I said in that post that I needed love and a partner to settle down.

At last, the major basics were done that night and before I slept, I noticed one white man, a potential client who seemed so interested and seemed real, too. He was already loving my pictures and how engaging I was via conversation. He said he loved how I communicated and my choice of words.

The very night I slept late, but I bet it was worth it.

My life as a yahoo boy has just begun!

To be continued..
©️ Frank The Writer

___

More comments before I continue...

Mhizzard:
oh,okay

Yeahhh.. Posting right away.

Mhizzard:
The update is slowing.you are trying though

I have been busy lately, but I'll drop another episode today.

Medancareers:
The word Master piece is accurate. Thank You Frank for bringing Romance at it heights to us. I liked every bit of it. You are doing well. Welldone

Gracias

IkeIgboNiile:
Another interesting update. Keep it coming op.

Alright, thank you.

Episode 5

While we were in Kola's, car, he asked if I didn’t mind spending the night at his place. I told him my father would be worried and besides he was sick and needed my presence. I was in the front seat with him while the other guys sat at the back.

"It's fine, but I don’t know if we can see again before you go back to your uncle's place," he said.

"I don’t know yet, but I will text you," I answered him.

"Alright, my guy," he said.

He drove me down to the street where my father lived, and I thanked him for the kind gesture. We then shook hands. I bid the other guys goodbye before he zoomed off on the tarred road.

As I walked down the street approaching my father’s rented apartment, thoughts about what Kola said filled my head. He seemed to be living large already, and I could tell from everything I saw. Back then he was broker than a church rat, though he was fun to be with.

Although he didn’t really mention a particular business he was into, but my mind was telling me something.

Well, I got back home and met my father enjoying a sumptuous meal; Egwusi soup and eba. He was a good cook and that was one of the reasons he didn’t miss my mom that much. And he doesn't play with his stomach.

"Where are you coming from?" He asked when he saw me walk in through the door.

"I was having drinks with Kolawole and his friends," I answered.

"Which of the Kolawole?" He asked.

"The one you knew back then, Kola is a big guy, now. He has a car," I added, like my father cares. I was sure things like that didn't move him.

"Hmm, Kola of yesterday," he muttered and swallowed his eba.

"Dude has changed now. Power of money. If you see Kola now, you will not recognize him again." I continued with more descriptions of him.

"Who knows what he ventured into," he said. "Children of this generation, they can do and undo," my father added.

"I don’t know oo," I said and walked straight to the kitchen to dish my food. I was feeling very famished.

After our dinner, my father and I were both seated in the living room and for the first time since he left us, I summoned courage and asked him to reunite back with my mum.

"Aren’t you tired of this separation? How long are we going to keep up with this? For years now, you both have been living in a different location and that’s not what it should be. It pains me and your children, too." I said and stared into his eyes.

I haven’t spoken to my father this way before. I don’t even know what boosted my morale. Maybe the drink I had in the evening? I can’t really say.

The look on his face tells a lot. I could sense he was surprised and at the same time dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to say something, but words failed him. Silence accompanied us for some seconds before I left him and retired to bed. I was so tired that I didn’t take my bath that evening before I slept off, still wearing my outing clothes.

*

The following day was Monday and that was the day I planned to return to my uncle's apartment and continue my teaching work later in the evening. I told my dad my plans to return, but he wished I stayed back for more days. I promised him I would visit again, but before then, he should make peace with my mum. He simply smiled and laughed over it. If only he understood how we, the children feel about the separation and all that stigma.

Well, before I left that morning, he gave me some money and foodstuffs. It was unlike him and I was very surprised. "My regards to your uncle," he said. We bid each other goodbye as I left the apartment. My happiness was that he had fully recovered, unlike when I came and met him looking pale.

I found my way back to Ikotun, that was where my uncle and I lived. I got home around 11 a.m. My uncle was already at work, but I had a spare key to the apartment, so I went in and slumped tiredly on the sofa.

I picked up my phone and dialed my mom's number and she picked up immediately. "Dave, how are you and your father?"
"I'm fine, he had recovered and I'm back to your brother's apartment," I answered her.

"Okay. Thank God for journey mercy."

"Yeah."

I also chipped in that I told my father to make peace with her. "What was his response?" My mum had asked.

"Hmm. He didn’t say anything. I don’t know what he thinks."

"Don’t mind your father, he is too stubborn. I’m sure one day he will get tired of staying alone when old age comes knocking."

"I pray so. Though he doesn't seem like he’s tired."

"So what did he give to you?"

"10,000 naira and some foodstuff."

"Hmm, your father has changed."

"Yeah, same thing, I said. I was even surprised." My mommy and I laughed over it.

I have missed her so much, even though we talk on the phone often. Hopefully, one of these days I would pay them a visit at Ketu and see my siblings too, I said to myself.

As I lay slumped on the bed scrolling through my phone, I noticed Kola posted something on his WhatsApp status. Since we exchanged contacts, I haven’t seen any of his posts. So I quickly checked out his WhatsApp story. Lo and behold, Kola was celebrating a brand new car, the Black Lexus 350. And this was about three years ago. The car was worth millions of naira. He posted a video of himself with two of his friends inside the new car. I watched and rewatched them four times before swiping up one of the videos.

"Congrats, Kola, more keys," I said. It was one of those usual way people congratulate car owners. But he didn’t reply as he kept on posting more pictures and videos.

Deep down I was like, where do you people see this money? Honestly, I was tempted to ask him to show me the way but self-respect kept me. He already told me the other day that if I was interested, he would link me up, but I just didn’t want to. My inner spirit didn’t let me.
Thirty minutes later, he still didn’t reply to me. I turned off my data and had a good sleep.

Later in the evening, around 4:30 p.m. I went for my teaching work. I met Jane's mother and she asked how my father was doing. I told her he was better now.
"Thank God for that," she replied.

Jane was the only one available for the class, she said Jessica wasn’t around, but hopefully, she will join us later. We went inside and I started a new topic and towards the middle of the class, Jessica joined us. Throughout the week, I was there to cover up the previous week.

It was after one week when Kola finally replied to my message on WhatsApp. It was on a Saturday morning.

"Dave, don’t tell me you’ve gone back to continue earning 15K monthly." That was his response that pierced my heart, unknown to him. But I just replied to him with "Lol" But deep down I felt bad.

"Don’t dull yourself, my guy. Men are chopping life and updates are still much available. I know you’re very smart. Even your accents fit into this work," Kola continued.

His words were penetrating. I won’t lie. I am the kind of person who gets motivated by things I see. The evidence was there that he was making cool money.
I was like if the Kola I knew back then in school could cash out these big, why wouldn’t I? I will surely make it big too.

Gradually, when he noticed, I was showing interest, he called me via voice call and we had a very long conversation. Kola assured me that my life would soon change if I trusted the process and did the needful.

To be continued..
©️ Frank The Writer






Don't be a gh.ost reader.

Twelvedemon12:
Ride on

Alright

IkeIgboNiile:
Sweet update but like Oliver twist, i want some more

Posting right away.

Candid2022:
Even if frank refuses to invite me, me don show by myself.
I hope my front seat still dey for me

Lol.. No vex o

Episode 4

When finally I got to my father’s apartment, I met his absence. The door leading to the living room was locked – and likewise the backyard. Could it be he still went to the shop despite being sick? Oops.

I found a corner and dropped my bags before dashing out to Iya Bolu’s canteen. Thanks to God, she still had food – because I was really feeling famished. The hours trip already sapped my strength.

“Dave, o ma ti pe e – It’s been a while,” said Iya Bolu when she saw me standing before her table. She was dishing out food to another customer on a foil.

“Beeni ma –– Yes ma,” I replied lamely.

“Awon siblings e nko?” she asked further.

“They are fine. I want to buy food,” I added speedily.

“Oni elo –– how much food?”

“Put rice seventy naira, erm.. beans forty, dodo thirty naira, and one meat,” I ordered. She brought out a stainless plate to dish it. “do am well oo,” I added. The worms in my belly were already partying with my intestines.

The food amounted to a hundred and ninety naira. It’s actually one of those things I’d always prefer Lagos to Owerri. Here, you can actually buy food of any amount from the roadside sellers unlike in Owerri where you must at least have three hundred naira to buy a plate of food.

I sat all alone like a king on the long bench behind the canteen, while I muscled the food. Iya Bolu’s rice was salty. It was unlike her. I couldn’t force myself to finish the food despite being hungry. Just when I picked up the meat to throw into my mouth, I heard someone call my name from afar – and when I turned, it was Kolawale.

“Who do we have here?” he said excitedly. “Egbon!” I hailed him.
We shook hands and embraced affectionately. I felt the inviting fragrance of his perfume and it spoke volumes of money. Kolawale was dressed in Palm Angel’s top and trousers. His slide was Gucci make. He looked hale and hearty. His cheek had grown fatter – and his voice was thick when he spoke. It’s been a long we saw each other. Over five years.

“Mehnn… you look good, Kola. Show me the way naa,” I teased him. We busted into laughter. “You just dey whyne me,” he said. “Kola, no be whyning, see as you fresh like today’s bread.”

Iya Bolu was just there staring at us with a dim smile. When our eyes got locked in contact, she was giving me some kind signal which I later found out she wanted me to pay her before I forget. I soon brought out two hundred naira note and jokingly asked her to keep the balance. “How much is even your change?” she said, laughing. “I don’t know… just keep the balance,” I answered, while Kola and I walked slowly down the street.

“Dave.. Dave! It’s been long, my man.”

“Since two thousand and….”

“Two thousand and sixteen,” he cuts in.

“That’s quite a long time. How has it been at your end?”

“Not bad, Dave. Erm, how’s your popsy?” – he was referring to my father.

“My Pops man dey. Local man has been down with sickness. Na why I come,” I uttered in one breath.

“No worry, e go better,” he said.

“Amen.” –

“So, how about Amarachi?” he queried, describing her figure on air.

“Amarachi? You mean the fat one? your wife?”

“You are mad!” He responded with a friendly punch on my shoulder. We busted into laughter, laughing so hard at our jokes. Kolawale and I had known each other right from Ketu where we grew up, before his family relocated to Festac – just like my father, who left us behind at Ketu. Kola's was a different scenario; it was a unanimous decision by his parents. They all relocated, leaving no one behind.

Meeting Kolawale brightened my day. We stood and talked about old times and our naïve attitude as teenagers. The memories will always remain unforgettable. I had lost Kola's contact, so we exchanged it again. Before he left, he asked if I’d stay at Ketu till the weekend so we could hang out and talk. “Yes, I’ll.” We shook hands and bid goodbye to each other.

**
It was around 7:30 p.m. when my father finally arrived. He looked dull and pale.
“Good evening, sir,” I greeted.
“Good evening,” he simply replied. He then walked straight to the door. He inserted the key and turned it left before the door unlocked. I followed him while silence accompanied us.

Later in the night when we talked, I realized he was actually coming back from the hospital. He had locked his shop around 5 p.m. before he left for St. Peters Hospital for his daily medications – which include injections.

“Have you eaten?” he later asked.

“Yes, I ate at Iya Bolu’s shop.”

Unlike my father, it didn’t take long before he dozed off. I stayed up with my phone till 2 a.m. There was a power supply too, so I later plugged in my phone before hitting the sheet.

The following day, my dad was still asleep when I went about my morning chores. I looked around for possible things I could clean and wash. I started by washing his clothes before cleaning up the kitchen and bathroom.

When finally he woke, I was mobbing the floors of the room. “Good morning Dad,” I uttered when our eyes got locked in contact. He just nodded his head and uttered nothing. It was totally unlike him to be such dull and cold. Later in the day, we left for his shop.

Fast forwarding, weekend soon arrived. Sunday afternoon precisely. Kola called around 3:00 p.m. to remind me of the hangout. I told him I was going to come once he sent the address.
Around 4:16 p.m., I was at J. Luxzy's Villa. A popular hangout arena. Two male friends of Kola were seated beside him.

Cool music blasted from an unseen stereo. People loitered about. There were flashy cars that drove in and out of the premises. The breeze was cool and the weather was perfect.

While we sipped our drinks and ate the barbecue sauce, Kola asked what I do currently to make ends meet. At first, I felt shy and uncomfortable to begin. Where do I even start from? Should I just tell him I teach – and avoid other stories I intend to tell? No! That would surely make him think low of me – for settling down as a lesson teacher after years in the University. Kola was just a Secondary School leaver. The only thing I remember he did, was learn computer after writing his SSCE.

Kola had that pity stare at me when I was done narrating my ordeals after I finished school. “Mehn, life is not always as easy as we bargained. Oftentimes, it plays opposite of our expectations,” he said and paused. “Yeah. That’s true,” I replied shortly. “Dave, I hope you wouldn’t want to continue with your teaching work if I tell you things you could do to better your life,” Kola said and stared doubtfully. I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. Goosebumps everywhere.

“Seriously? I wouldn’t mind my guy. I need to make money.”

“Well, all you need is a good system.”

“A good system? You mean a laptop?”

“Yes.”

His phone rang amidst our conversation and when he answered, “Hello, yeah. I’m yet to receive the money. Do you mean it could be network? Alright, when I receive the alert, I’ll let you know.” He dropped the call and turned towards me. “Dave, that was a call from a client,” he said. There was a short silence before he continued. “You are smart and intelligent. You would fit in so well.”

I was wowed and at the same time dumbfounded. Lots of thoughts rushed through my head –– and I was left with doubts –– if this could be a legit work. Well, legal or not, I think I’m going to take the risk. I said to myself.

Later that night, when it seemed everyone had taken enough drink. We all left on Kola's Mercedes Benz.

To be continued..
©️ Frank The Writer





Don't be a gho.st reader.

IkeIgboNiile:
Eagerly following. Keep it coming

Alright, Chief.

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Episode 3

Jessica’s question really threw me off balance. I was bewildered at how she suddenly came up with such s!lly question.

“These words are in no way related to what we have been discussing so far,” I said, after rebooting myself like a corrupt system.

“Yes, I know. I just thought you should know better as an English teacher,” she winked.

“Please, focus on what we have learned so far and ignore these for now,” I rebuked her.

“It was a harmless question, sir. I found them in one of the YA novels I read recently,” she added.

“Jessica, when you discover new words while reading, all you have to do is use the dictionary,” I told her bluntly, looking more serious than I was. And she didn’t say anything further.

Throughout the remaining time I spent teaching, she was mute and refused to say anything further. Our class lasted for almost two hours before I noticed signs of tiredness on their faces. Jane was itching to leave her seat and likewise Jessica who was long offended by my response to her question.

I was able to conclude two topics, after which I gave them some work to do against Friday when we met again.

“Thank you, bro Dave. I really enjoyed your class,” said Jane.

“You are welcome,” I replied.
Jessica said no word as she stood and left.

*

“How was the class?” Jane's Mom asked the moment she saw us coming out.

“It was okay, Mom. Bro Dave is good,” Jane answered.

“Okay. That’s good,” replied the young-looking woman.

“Thank you, ma,” I said.

“You’re welcome, Dave. When next are we seeing you?” she added.

“Um.. Friday, ma. God’s willing,” I answered.

“Okay. Take care.”

*

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday was the weekly routine. I had taught them for two weeks before I got bad news from home. And during those periods of two weeks, Jessica was like a pain in the @ss. She kept acting nas+y and would always come up with some sort of questions that were out of context. I guess she was making sure I didn’t find it easy being a lesson teacher.
I remember vividly, those days in secondary school, there were some set of students who were fond of throwing all manner of questions to the teachers, just to make sure they frustrate them. Some would go as far as getting controvers!al questions, just to stress the teacher. This was what Jessica literally did. I really kept my cool and ignored all her attempts to bring me down. I had always known that challenges are bound in everything we do. So, I let it slide.

*
The bad news I got after two weeks was from my father. He was down with sickness. Why won’t he fall sick? When all he ate was roadside foods and junk. Ever since he parted ways with my mother, all he ate was cooked by random food sellers. Even when we visit him, we always end up buying food from Iya Bolu, a popular food seller in the street. One of the reasons we hardly visit him. When I informed my mom about my father’s illness, she was worried and I said I should go see him – while I inform her if things get out of hand.
I knew my mom still loved my father, regardless of them being separated. I really doubt if my father loved her the same way she cared for him. Truth be told, he was just too stu.bborn and would hardly accept anyone’s decision, except his.

It was time to pause my teaching work, so I called Jane’s mom and informed her about my father’s illness. She felt sorry and told me to go see him with the condition that when I returned, I’d run the classes on a daily, to cover up the lapses. That’d surely be stressful, but then I was left with no option.

Two days later, I was set to go to Festac where my father lived. I had arranged a few clothes and other stuff into my sizeable bag. My uncle was kind enough to assist me with some money for transportation.

It was on a sunny Thursday afternoon when I left for Festac. There was traffic as usual and the roads were jam-packed. On a usual workday, if you step into the streets of Lagos with a plan to navigate your way to-do list and make it right on time to the comfort of your bed with your complete body intact, Lagos always comes with some form of distortion that leaves you handicapped, perhaps totally helpless.

On arriving at my father’s apartment, two little girls ran out – and embraced me. I was surprised to see the duo run out of my father’s self-contained apartment. They looked like twins but one seemed taller and older. I lifted them in turns, trying to be friendly. They just smiled and stood beside me, as if waiting to get candies or biscuits from me.

It was unusual to see strangers around my father’s apartment. My siblings and I knew how he detested having people around. He barely relates with anyone in that compound.
So, I stood, pondering who they could be. I was still in the corridor trying to unbuckle my sandal. Could it be that my father… Oh! No! I quickly waved off the thought that ran through my head. I really didn’t want to assume things on my own.

When I walked in, they followed me. My father lay on his back on the bed. He looked pale and sick. His lips looked burnt. By his side was a young woman – whom I presumed to be the mother to the little girls behind me. She should be in her late thirties – if my assumption could be right. She looked younger than my mom too.

“Oh! My God. This is serious,” I stuttered.

“Dave, you’re here. Ekeabo – welcome,” the woman said when she saw me.

“Omo mehnn, a Yoruba woman?” I asked myself, looking totally lost. How did she even know my name? How did she know I was on my way? My father must have told her.

Damn! I pondered. My heart was beating faster like a lizard that fell off a tree. I still couldn’t respond to her greetings and welcome notes. She bent down and scrolled through her phone. I was really startled by the scene. I didn’t know what to say to her. She turned again – and our eyes got locked in contact. I soon averted my eyes. Silence was what accompanied us for a few minutes. The only sound that stood between us was the one coming from the ceiling fan; it was rotating very fast. Yet, I could still notice my father was sweating.

“Your father is asleep. He’s getting better,” she said and paused. I was there contemplating what to say. There were voices saying this and that. I quickly turned to look at the girls behind me to see if they had any resemblance with my father or my siblings, it turned out wrong, they looked like the woman sitting beside my father. It finally dawned on me when finally, one of the girls said,

“Daddy is still sleeping, let’s go and play!”

A jerk of the bus brought me back to the real world. Sorry, it was all a dream. I had been sleeping right inside the bus. When I peeped through the window, then, I realized we were very close to my destination, so I stayed up till we got to the last bus stop.

To be continued...
Frank The Writer




Don't be a ghost reader.

YoungTobi:
Op didn't even mention me for this new banga

No vex Chief