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SYNOPSIS

Coming from a wealthy Nigerian family, OlaDuhu in a bid not to be swept up by the machinations of his family, runs from Lagos to find peace in a small village in Osun State. A peace that will be shattered with the death of his father and a dying wish he could not refuse.

Copyright ⓒ Jon Doe, 2018

Moral right of author has been asserted. All rights reserved. This story may only be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means with prior written permission of the author Jon Doe.

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I, like my Maker, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidences

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 38

In the visor mirror Zainab saw features that had been long without the blemish of a touch. Custom fitted, the mirror was much larger than what regular cars came with. Her cheeks gave a natural shine, lips a dull pink. Today no lashes rode her lids, no concealer graced her cheeks. Namdi had said more than once she did not need it. She would always laugh at that. Ignorant man, she thought. In her hands she held a business card. With a sigh she checked the address again, fingers drumming an even floating sound on the wheel of the car. More than ten minutes had gone by since she parked, her target a couple buildings away. Twice she'd driven past the nondescript building unsure if it was the place. It seemed they truly valued anonymity.

Faster, her fingers drummed against the steering wheel, her eyes scanning the business card again. It had been on the dinning table, right beside a near empty decanter of wine and a single glass. Even though she had just woken up, it did not take much to put the clues together.

"He really wants children."

Out loud to none but herself she said these words, convinced this was a singular need from her husband. The clues pointing solely to this one conclusion. That he would play it off as nothing for so long caused her hand to rub an itch at the corner of her eye. Her stay in the vehicle could not last forever. Her fingers stopped drumming, the last note fading away, her mind steeled and made.  

A thumb ran across her lips noting the way they bounced back from the gentle pressure. A bag, large sun hat and dark sunglasses soon found their way into her hands. The wide brim of the hat covered much of her as it rested on her hair. It's darkness was in stark contrast to the white knee length dress she wore. Determined brown eyes went into hiding from the world behind large Cartier sunglasses. With one last check, she stepped out of the car.

Firmly she walked her chosen path, much of her facial features hidden. Her gait remained steady as the blackened doors of her destination loomed before her. Looking up her lips curled, body reaching a state of tension she did not like. Her stay in front of the door could not go on in perpetuity. At some point, she intrinsically understood, there would be a need to move forward into the jaws of the unknown. Her hand reached for the door.

Stepping through the blackened doors, what hit her first was the smell. Having subconsciously  pictured a grey world, she was thrown off by the colorful sights, cool and pleasant fragrance.

"Welcome to Ala Alusi, how may I be of service?"

Zainab turned to the sing song voice of a short robust woman seated at a transparent waist high table, a flyer in an outstretched hand. On her face was a welcoming smile that melted away the unease Zainab felt when her expectations were flipped upside down. She studied the woman who was more round than straight and full of million Naira smiles. A bubbling brook in human form. Her glasses and hat still remained on. It did not phase the woman behind the table, such sights not being an uncommon occurrence walking through those darkened doors. She waited patiently as Zainab stood near the door and came to terms with what surrounded her. 

"I'm here to see Doctor... em... hold on one second."

"No rush, take your time."

Through her bag she rooted, head down, fingers pushing aside lip stick shades, compact, and a host of odds and ends. Between her thumb and forefinger she held a card, the harvest of her fishing expedition. Bringing it out, it slipped from her fingers floating into the air behind her on a gust of artificial wind. She turned to catch it, her path sending her into a small scale collision with another woman heading to the door. The slight bump was nothing more than a cushioned impact of chests, both parties not hurt in the slightest. An apology was already at the tip of Zainabs tongue as she she looked up to face the woman she had slightly wronged. Zainab's apology did not see the light of day when she saw the woman's appearance. Within eyes hidden behind Cartier sunglasses a hint of recognition found life. 

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AryEmber:
It would be a terrible sin to read this and not say anything. Damn! You're amazingly perfect!

This brought me a nice high. You are very sweet and your comment is cherished. Thanks

When I saw him, butterflys fluttered, When I heard him, humming birds held their breath, When I savored him, he held me hostage as I became hooked/addicted.

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 37


A city with millions of souls sped by. Heat - generated not from connected bodies but the red orb residing in the blue sky - fell without mercy. Each soul within possessed a story that could fill volumes. Most would go untold; from unsung heroes to untouchable monsters. In this tale there are yet no unsung heroes, a thought no where near the mind of a Namdi situated in the passenger side of his wife's car. As she concentrated on the road before her, his full attention was absorbed by her mute tones. Well aware Zainab would leave no heterosexual male's neck unmoved if she walked into a crowded room he was a little thrown by the simplicity she currently adopted. He pondered if it was safe for him to ask, a thought he quickly shelved not wanting to douse the current high from earlier this morning with frigid water. His temperature rose, the rising sun outside the car innocent; thoughts of their recent coupling the culprit.

"So what was the 'thank you' for?"

"How many times do I have to say I'm not telling you." Zainab said in a teasing tone.

"It was for cleaning up the dinning and kitchen wasn't it?"

"I'm not saying."

"For spending time with your dad?"

"Namdi just forget it. Even if you are right I won't say."

"I know now; it's for not taking advantage after undressing you last night."

"Taking advan... You dare!?"

Her hand lashed out to punch Namdi where it would truly hurt. He was prepared, trapping her slight fist in his before it could reach the weak center of his lap. In his hand he held hers, bringing it up and brushing the knuckles with a kiss. Zainabs hand remained trapped in his. She smiled, her eyes still facing forward. Over the center console their fingers intertwined as the car sped down the highway, one among many on a path.

The white Mercedes pulled to a stop in front of a large black gate. Namdi stepped out, pulling his suit along with him. He stopped at the driver side window, the tinted glass coming down.

"I could have driven in."

"No need, you seem to have somewhere you want to go."

"Oh, What time should I come pick you up? There's a video of a proposal I want to show you."

"Zainab don't worry about it, I missed a full days work yesterday. Going to be late."

"But I don't mind..."

"No buts. I'll call an Uber whenever I'm done."

Namdi turned around making his way to the gate. He stopped, turning back to the car. Zainab was there waiting patiently the window still down. With a sheepish grin he leaned in and kissed her. A horn blared while their noses stood side by side. At first short, then incessant, the owners patience wearing thin. He couldn't be blamed much, where Zainab had stopped was blocking the entrance. Unable to tune out the horn, Namdi pulled away. Zainab grabbed his tie pulling him back for a second kiss, longer this time, the blaring of the blue Honda nothing but background music.

Guards at the gate ran forward, stern looks on their face as they made their way to where Namdi stood. The man behind the wheel of the blue Honda had a smug look on his face. Your father can't block me, it's now you that wants to block, he thought; glee in his heart as he waited for the couple to be unceremoniously berated and dragged away. A puzzled expression soon appeared on his bearded face. Upon nearing the car window, the guards had abruptly stopped, each throwing a panicked salute.  The puzzled expression grew when he saw the guards were now making their way to his Honda.

"Get out of here oshi!"

"Who do you think you are?! Carry this your dead car and park it in the middle of the expressway!"

"Can you press horn for your father that you are pressing horn here!"

Batons came out to hammer against the body of the Honda as the guards cursed the driver. A cold sweat dripped down the drivers wide forehead in defiance of the morning heat. Unable to make sense of the sudden 180 of the guards he did the only thing he could think of. Locking the doors he threw the car into gear and drove away.

Zainab remained unfazed by the turn of events, tucking a ribbon into Namdi's breast pocket. Her husband on the other hand couldn't help but throw glances at the unfolding drama. A small part of him felt sorry for the driver. He could remember a time when his owning of such a car would be a dream come true. With an imperceptible sigh he ran a hand to caress Zainabs cheek before walking towards the high rise building. 

"Shake it for me baby!"

Namdi blushed hard. He could feel every eye trying not to look at him when Zainab shouted those words. It was then he could feel how closely the lining of his pants followed the curve of his cheeks. Knowing he would fuel days of gossip for these guards regardless of what he did, Namdi held his head high and strutted his stuff. Zainab laughed, two fingers finding her mouth as she whistled. When her husband disappeared behind the black gate, she looked up gazing at her maiden name at the top of the high rise building. It had been sometime since she had stepped into her families company. She thought once again of Namdi's laudable attempt to shake his rump for her, a giggle escaping from her unpainted lips. The window rolled up as she drove away, her destination firm in her mind.

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Part, each petal revealed through fancy, a lotus flower in bloom.

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 36

Pure, each droplet of water born from the cage of metal and grey. Transparent, clear, unblemished, devoid of the taint of human input. Or so it would look to the naked eye. Most found their way on Namdi's light chocolate colored skin, some starting from the curls of his jet black hair. Unable to escape the reality of change, their purity became a sacrifice for another.

The running water was a salve to his pounding head. Memories of the night before previously drowned by the devils water came to life. They flitted across his mind, his most pressing concern the father of his beloved. He definitely knew something, Namdi thought with an uneasy conviction. It could not be something concrete or else his father in law would have resorted to more drastic measures rather than the intimidation he had subjected him too. Pounding in Namdi's head began to intensify as his thoughts flowed, the throb moving from affliction to torment. In a bid to survive the hangover he quieted his mind.

Glass walls surrounded the shower, an enclosed box, a barrier keeping the rising steam from the rest of the bathroom. White, thick, it built up, sparing no single surface. Visibility was impeded, a truth that had no impact on Namdi whose lids were firmly shut as he drowned out the space around him for a time.

Pain blossomed on his upper back, right below his shoulder. It was short and sharp. He did not reach nor cry out, his only reaction a gentle bite of his lower lip. Pain, again, sharper, now on the opposite shoulder, a small bite barely penetrating his tightly corded muscles. A groan from his throat was muffled by the running water. Soft lips soon followed, pressed against the shallow teeth marks, tender, loving, sealing the pain with words unspoken. Breath as hot as the vapors around him reached his neck, two pillows pressing against his back. Namdi saw nothing as he felt everything, one sense deprived intensifying another.

Her finger traced the path of his spine, nail carving into the softened flesh, unhurried, enjoying each vertebrae that managed to poke through the folded tissue. Starting from the small of his back, the journey continued till she reached the base of his neck, leaving an unseen thin red streak. On the tips of her toes she stood, making his lobe her possession, a bunny nibbling on a wisp of lettuce. She bit, her hand snaking around him for support. He stood there,  rooted, seemingly firm against the storm that fell on them; betrayed only by her arm that felt the slight tremor as she bit into him. So close to his ear she couldn't resist.

"Thank you."

She said, barely heard over the sound of running water, her reasons why left unexplained. Her feet left the blend of stone and marble floor ending up wrapped around Namdi's waist, arms circling his neck. His hand reached out, the water reduced to a light dribble. Without a word he adjusted her position till her hardened peaks pressed against his bruised chest. The expected ache was barely felt, a hand running through her damp hair. Faintly he noticed the scent of violet. Her bum quivered, suspended less than a feet away from his hung inches. In the steam their lips found each other, feasting, stealing, igniting a need within them both. Zainab's back connected with the glass, an act lost to her, all sense of touch concentrated on the pink that danced in her mouth. In her mind a small bomb exploded, a big one ticking down beside it. The shower got a little wetter, her arms around his neck tightening as she strained to draw him deeper.

To the world above, his head tilted as he drew a much needed breath, his powerful neck stretched taut. She leaned forward, planting kisses on his apple. With a flicker her small pink darted out, seeking, tasting, caressing. The sensation of vigor and tremor spread to her mouth furthering her delight, growing her need to the point of running over. Instinctively he felt it, a primal state awakening, a thirst that could no longer be held back as the blood from from the extremes of his body raced to his center. From without the shower room, through the steam, their bodies remained hidden except for two perfectly shaped butt cheeks pressing over and over against a steamed glass.

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The heavens grow jealous of the love we share

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 35

Holding his wife, her face still buried against him, he felt powerless unable to erase her suffering. Namdi could tell she had fallen asleep from the rhythmic rise and fall of her breast against his chest. Her tears had come to an end for some time now. Still he did not move. In front of him was the plate of eba and vegetable no one had eaten. He looked at each cut piece of the processed cassava, a conflicting smile appearing on his face. I miss old school eba, Namdi thought. He had always felt it tasted different, no, better, when he used his hand to dig into a big ball of swallow. Working his fingers to knead the lump he had excavated into a round smooth ball before dipping it into a bowl of vegetable soup with a light flourish. There was something in the ritual that couldn't be captured when a fork was used to spear already cut portions. He would never tell Zainab this. She wouldn't even use her hand to eat a hamburger. A small price to pay, Namdi whispered to himself. 

Planting his feet firmly on the ground he stood up, the sleeping Zainab a feather in his arms. She stirred a bit but did not break away from the land of dreams she had deeply lost herself in. With measured steps he made his way out the dinning to the stairs leading to their bedroom. She nuzzled deeper into him, purrs of content coming from her throat as he climbed the stairs. The room was dark save for the moonlight coming in from the bay windows. Laying her down on the bed Namdi undressed her, each article of clothing neatly folded and placed at the foot of the bed. Moonlight bathed her skin in its white glow. His heart quickened, blood boiling in his veins. Tamping down on his budding desires he got a slip from the the armoire. 

Taking his time he managed to dress her in the lace and satin night wear without disturbing her slumber. It barely hid the delicacies she possessed. Planting a kiss on her cheek he tucked her in and returned to the dining. An hour later Namdi sat at the table with a glass of wine in one hand, the large windows behind him. The kitchen and dining room had been cleaned, the uneaten meal packed into Tupperware and safely stored in the fridge. The only thing that remained on the table was the decanter of wine. 

Namdi refilled the glass from a now half filled decanter. He gulped rather than sipped. On the table in front of him was the card his father in law had dropped on his lap. Glass after glass he drank but the words on the card did not change.  

"Fe...rti....lity c...c....clini"

After nearly polishing off the bottle of wine his words came out in a mangled mess. His thoughts meshed together, brain becoming mired in a quagmire of intoxication. Grabbing the now half full glass of wine he made to throw it against the unblemished white walls but stopped, a keen sense of self preservation keeping him from such an extreme. With two big gulps he drained the liquid instead. On unsteady legs he made his way up the stairs to the bedroom they shared.

A full Redeem choir pounded out heavy chords in Namdi's head. He woke up with a groan, a dull pain wherever skin stretched. Opening his eyes he saw he had missed the bed by a few feet, a night spent on the carpeted floor. His clothes from last night were still on him. Reaching into his pocket he brought out his phone. It wasn't yet seven. Ignoring the headache he softly called out.

"Zainab are you awake? How you feeling?"

Hearing nothing he picked himself off the floor only to see an empty bed. She must have gone downstairs, he thought. With tentative steps he made his way to the adjoining bathroom. It was a large bathroom, easily three times the size of what he was used to before he met Zainab. In the center was a bath suspended above the floor by four golden paws. He had never used it to bath, at least not alone. He preferred the shower at the far corner of the bathroom. Even that was a testament to extravagance having multiple nozzles that could give quite a massage. Namdi's first stop was the medicine cabinet. Finding the pain killers he had been prescribed, he ignored the written dosage and popped four of them. 

Stripping his clothes from his skin he looked into the mirror noting his bandaged ribs. They were stained a dull red having spent a night soaking up the wine that had spilled on his shirt. He reeked of a mid quality winery. Impatiently he unwrapped the bandages letting them fall to the floor. Naked as the day he was born he stepped into the shower, hoping the water would wash away all that happened the past couple days. A false hope.

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When all others turn their backs and walk away, you can count on me to stay.

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 34

Together they held their breath as they strained to make out the faint words floating through the closed door. They both failed, unable to decipher the harsh but hushed tones. They were not given much time before the sounds ceased completely. Zainab was ready to barge in, a hand on her shoulder making her rethink her actions. He was right, it would be too coincidental if immediately after her parents row ended they stepped in. It was better to risk one of them coming to the door and finding them standing there. A minute walked by and with it Namdi opened the door. 

They were treated to Mrs. Shagari seated on the opposite end. The wide painting hung above her, the drip of the red wishing to end on the top of her head. A smile was on her lips but it did not reach her eyes. Her neck stretched proudly, hands clasped on the edge of the table. She said nothing when her daughter and son in law stepped in. On the table center Namdi and Zainab set what they carried then walked to take their seats. 

Mother faced daughter, Father faced son in law. More than an arms length separated one from the other.

"Let us pray, we thank you for the bounty before us and beseech thee that..."

Namdi's eyes opened as Zainabs father carried on like a pastor at a Passover feast. Turning to his left he wasn't surprised seeing Zainab's head bowed, eyes closed, and excitement coloring her cheeks. When it came to her father she became a completely different person. He wondered how their friends would react if they saw Zainab like this. Pinching themselves in an attempt to wake up from a dream would be one common reaction. Church was a four event a year affair for them. Easter, Christmas, Thanks giving and the occasional wedding. While Namdi watched Zainab, he was unaware that he in turn was watched by her mother. 

"So have we prayed."

A soft amen floated to the rafters, a seal of finality. Zainab got up to serve the meal she had poured her heart to prepare. Before she could reach the first dish, a chair scraped against the black marble floor. The sound swept all attention to the sight of Mr. Shagari on his feet. 

"We are leaving."

Zainab was the most surprised from her father's words, his footsteps already taking him towards her before she could come to terms with what was happening.

"Leaving? But you just got here, we are about to eat."

She sputtered. In her words she was unable to hide the disappointment of a little girl. Seeing her dad's intent unaffected Zainab showed unease.

"I made this meal especially for you daddy."

Her second attempt did not slow the footsteps of her father. Before he could pass, she reached for him, her hand filled with the fabric of the native he wore.

"Babbana na kai na"

Zainab said in a near whisper. Her father stopped. Turning he looked into his daughters eyes seeing the pleading in the depths of the brown. With his free hand he brought her into his embrace, enveloping her in a gentle hug. Kissing the top of her forehead he gave her slight shoulders a quick squeeze.

"Somethings come up that can't wait. I promise we'll reschedule. There is no need for you to see us out, we know the way."

By this time her mom had reached them, standing a bit off to the side. Breaking away from the embrace, Mr. Shagari held the door open for his wife. Zainab stood there watching the door her father had disappeared through. She didn't move as she dealt with her inner turmoil. Two strong arms slipped round her waist lending her strength. With care she was guided back to her seat, her body showing no resistance. In a daze she sat down, her eyes closing. The night had not gone anywhere near what she had envisioned. 

In the background she could hear the scrape of metal on ceramic, an event she cared little for; her mind solely focused on other thoughts. With great care she felt herself lifted off the chair only to be set back down on what was firm and warm. A gentle heat tickled her soft lips. Opening her eyes she saw she was on Namdi's lap, a fork in front of her. On it was a white block very similar in look and size to the Dangote sugar cube that comes in a blue paper pack. On top of the block was a small serving of vegetable. There were more perfectly cut blocks sitting on the plate before them.

"Your eba and vegetable smells delicious, I'm sure leaving must have hurt your dad as much as it hurts you." 

He said the words in comfort, his love for Zainab greater than the enmity between him and her father. She broke down, burying her face into his chest. Dropping the fork back onto the plate, he held her, whispering soothing words in an effort to dull her pain.

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Oluwakemi65:
Yipee! you're back.

Lol not quite back to more or less daily chapter release but working on it. Thanks for your support

INDUSTRIALFAN:
I guess it's a Nairaland trend for writers to get their readers hooked then leave them stranded. If you are having stuff going on and can't update, atleast be kind enough to let your readers know that there will be a pause or total halt of your posts.

Apologies, I also know what it's like waiting for an author - Patrick Rothfuss, the 1 in a billion chance you are seeing this, where's the 3rd installment? -

Think I commented earlier I had a project deadline that would affect release and would try to get up to 3 chapters a week and increase word count to 800. Increased word count but was more 1-2 chapters.

Thank you for getting hooked and sorry for the haphazard releases. Hopefully in a couple weeks it will steady out.

Thanks for your patience

I'm as single as a humming bird moth at the end of June

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 33

Ash fell on Namdi's lap, the lit cigar somehow still between his lips. A snowy storm of black and grey, near perfect match to the hair the older man sported. He could no longer taste the flavors, his senses deadened. A phantom pain pushing all else aside. Motion in front of him left him holding his breath, unsure what more he would be subjected to but knowing fully he had little left in him. 

Each step Mr. Shagari took brought him closer to a visibly shaken Namdi. With disdain a card dropped from his hand to join the ash on Namdi's lap

"Here's a number to a specialist. I shouldn't have to wait any longer to be a grandfather because you are barely a man."

With those parting words Mr. Shagari walked out the glass door. Alone in the fully illuminated balcony Namdi let out the breath he had been too afraid to release. In the light his weak state was fully evident. Taking the cigar out of his mouth he flung it as hard as he could into the sky. Balling his hand into a fist he began to beat his chest. Over and over he struck, the thumps growing louder, the pain more biting. Teeth clenching from the torment he stopped. 

Getting up from the wicker chair Namdi's legs did not visibly shake. He took the small victory. To the floor fell the ash that previously resided on his lap. Wanting to brush away the evidence he spied the card. His lips curled into a sneer when he picked it up. Not bothering to look at the information he stuck it into his pocket. Turning he walked to the glass door but did not slide it open. Hand on the handle his eyes closed. There he remained, his thoughts his own. When his lids finally fluttered open his breathing had evened out his mind tranquil. With a firm hold he slid the door open making his way straight to the dining room.

Stepping into the dinning room, there was no surprise when Namdi looked to his left and saw Mr. Shagari seated at the head of the rectangular table. Behind him were frosted windows reaching from floor to ceiling. The table could seat six comfortably. Currently only four chairs surrounded the mahogany table on which a vase of rare orchids was the sole ornament. Pristine white walls held nothing but a single painting, a bitter red dripped on a parchment that matched the longer width of the table. From the ceiling a chandelier hung, a marriage of iron and glass wrought in a style long discarded. 

Leisurely Namdi made his way to the chair on the right of the door. Behind him a cabinet stood, blending easily with the walls. He was determined not to be blind sided again. Across from each other they sat, no love lost between them. None spoke as they waited. Namdi turned to the painting, wishing to look at anything but his father in law. He stared in awe at how the red came alive, half expecting it to continue its drip right off the painting and onto the walls. 

The dining room door opened and an apron free Zainab walked in with her hands full. On her heels was Mrs. Shagari with a bottle of wine in one hand and a decanter in the other. Quickly Namdi left his seat taking the wine and decanter from her.

"Let me take care of this while you take your seat."

"You are too good to me." 

With wine and decanter in hand, Namdi headed for the kitchen. Behind him Mrs. Shagari made her way to her seat her path taking her past her husband. 

" Sarauniya ta"

Mr. Shagari spoke while taking his wife's hand in his. Words that reached Zainab's ears as she made her way back to the kitchen. In the kitchen she ran into Namdi working the wine opener.

"I don't get you and my dad."

"This is about your mom isn't it?"

"How can the two of you be so blind. The woman is evil!"

"Your mom is sweet. She has treated me with nothing but kindness."

"I could shatter your world right now but you are lucky I love you. Dad said a replacement Mercedes will arrive in a few days."

Namdi looked up from the wine he was pouring a frown on his face.

"Zainab I don't remember asking you to meet your dad concerning this."

"It's no big deal, he was happy to do it. He was also the one who took care of the wreck. Till it arrives I'll be your beautiful chauffeur. Emmm Namdi the wine is pouring on the floor."

With a sigh Namdi corrected the pour; finishing up before walking to the pantry to grab a mop and paper towels. Decanter in one hand, Namdi joined the waiting Zainab and together they made their way back to the dining room. Zainab reached out a free hand to open the dining room door. She didn't get far, Namdi grabbing her arm in a vice like grip. Shocked, she turned only for her to see Namdi with a finger on his lips. Puzzled she bit back the harsh words she was about to unleash. Quickly Namdi cupped his hand behind his ear and pointed to the door. It was then Zainab noticed she could faintly hear a heated argument.  

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Nothing quite like a tale of revenge. Looking forward to how you handle the political angle and the reveals. Goodluck

We all have a story to tell

Let me start by saying I am far from an expert but then maybe the little I've learnt might help someone.

These are not suggestions that should be followed to the letter. They are merely things to think about


SHOW DON'T TELL

Seems pretty obvious. Still I find myself self inflicting more often than I'd care to admit

Omo got very angry when she saw her boyfriend kissing her best friend Kemi.

Omo's hands clenched into a fist, nails biting savagely into her soft palms when she saw her boyfriend kissing her best friend Kemi

As much as he tried Dele could not hide his disappointment when it was announced Ore would be promoted instead of him.

Dele's shoulders sagged as he forced an unconvincing smile on his lips when it was announced Ore would be promoted instead of him

Aliyu was afraid when the armed robbers entered his air conditioned office.

Sweat dripped from Aliyu's forehead, his hands visibly shaking when the armed robbers entered his air conditioned office.


Much like IRL (In Real Life), someone doesn't always have to say their emotion before we realize it. When a friend is happy we can usually tell without them having to say 'I am happy'. The smile on their face, energy in their steps, enthusiasm in their speech, brightness of their countenance.

Same with anger. When a friend is angry with you, they rarely need to say it. Furrowing of the brow, hardness of their speech, distancing of their body, tense nature of their bearing...

So too in a story. Sometimes you might want to show anger through actions rather than say someone is angry.

Jide was furious with Seun after she hung up

After she hung up Jide grabbed the picture frame of him and Seun and ruthlessly smashed it against the wall.

All said, sometimes writing the emotion is enough so you don't bog down the story. Balance is the goal.

Well that is it, happy birthing

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If anyone found this useful and cares for more of such or have ideas of your own to share...

If you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you'll learn things you never knew you never knew

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 32

Namdi's determination to not look at his Father in law grew the more he listened. Why is he telling me this? Namdi racked his brain to no avail, meaning eluding him. The night grew darker, a cover of clouds denying the twinkle of the heavens. Namdi's hands gripped the balcony railing steadying himself; the feel of the cold metal a reminder this was not a dream. 

"Was it love? I'm not sure. But what I cannot deny is she lit a roaring fire within me. I once believed with conviction I would never be that man. I had the war to blame."

Mr. Shagari took a deep drag from the cigar in his mouth, the smoke billowing from his nose like the discharge of a fired cannon.

"Our passion burnt fiercely. Alas she wanted more than I could give her. She soon burnt out."

What does he mean by burnt out? Namdi thought, his tongue losing its function when he attempted to voice out the question. 

"You must be wondering why I am telling you this. Wondering if my wife knows." 

The cigar fell from Mr. Shagari's mouth landing on the floor, the end still smoldering. Without bothering to look down he flattened it beneath his sole.

"It is simple, you can do nothing to me. You are powerless, insignificant, a bug beneath my shoe. Crushing you can be achieved with a mere thought"

As he listened Namdi found it more and more difficult to keep hold of the railing. Palms sweaty, knees weak, he cut a pitiful picture. All that kept him upright was the dread of the shame he would have to bear if he collapsed in front of his father in law. Mr. Shagari brought out another cigar, this time bringing out a cigar cutter made of bone. Namdi could not see this cigar cutter but in the silence he could hear clearly every minute movement his father in law made. 

"You must know by now how much I treasure these cigars. Between you and what I hold in my hands, which I hold in higher regard should be evident. I know you can't see what i'm about to do to this cigar but your imagination should fill in the blanks"

With the bone handle cigar cutter Mr. Shagari snipped the head of the cigar. Namdi heard distinctly as the blade bit into the brown shaft of the cigar with a crisp clear snip. The older man did not stop there. Bit by bit he snipped, the pieces fluttering to the floor till only a gold band remained. It was neither hot nor warm where they stood; still beads of sweat popped out the forehead of Namdi. Each made its way down his cheeks to be absorbed by his collar. Namdi did not dare reach up to wipe it away, reduced to a rabbit a paw away from the jaws of a beast. 

"Have you cheated on my daughter?"

The question slammed into the gut of an unprepared Namdi. His heart beat a mile a minute, shivers running down his bent spine. His mind screamed at him there was only one answer. There was only one path to life and all others would lead to his eradication. Truth be damned his inner demons chanted as they all marched to the only option they could. NO! was the answer he thought, the only answer that mattered. A deep sense of hopelessness fell on him bathing every inch of his person as his mouth opened to speak. He wasn't given a chance

"You know what, don't answer. Your words don't matter. All that matters is that she and more importantly I don't find the answer to be yes."

The balcony light came on, flooding what was once dark with a rich white light. The roller coaster of emotions was too much for Namdi. On shaky legs he made his way to the only chair on the balcony. He sat down heavily, the unapproachable broad back of his father in law filling his vision.

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FictionEditor:
You've got a good story buried somewhere, but... I'm currently reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy. You should read that too.

^{The answer to life, The Universe and Everything is... 42!}

Had a mini geek gasm from your list. Been years since I read those books; well except for the Nigerian authors, sadly haven't read those.

To pile on, Dune, Hyperion, Terry Pratchett are hurt you left them out. Starship Troopers could help shape the militaristic aspects

A Sin personally committed is easier to spot, easier to accept, in others 

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 31

Nothing followed those weighty words which hung heavy in the air between them. Each syllable delivered with little emotion or inflection, lips held in a straight line. Still, in it Namdi could sense a threat, a promise of unrestrained violence simmering just below the surface merely waiting, hoping, for a reason to be unleashed. Namdi did not dare look in the direction of the older man beside him. The forest of curly hair along his arms stood straight, remnant of long forgotten instincts. Somehow he managed to keep the pandemonium in his mind from his facial features. Woodenly Namdi looked on into the night wishing desperately there was a thousand miles between him and the manifestation at his side. However wishes granted are a thing of fantasy, his only option to fight now that flight had failed him.

What did he know? Namdi internally cried out the question, his unease manifesting in the rigidness of his posture. Carefully he combed over his memories of the last couple days searching for any aspect that would raise alarm bells. No, there is nothing that would give him a reason to suspect; Namdi concluded, his muscles relaxing as tension bled from fibers. Pivoting, he faced his father in law.

"I don't hurt the ones I love."

Time had trudged on before Namdi answered. Enough to be noticeable but not enough to be unfathomable. Mr. Shagari turned, steady gaze on his son in law. Namdi did not flinch away from the piercing brown eyes of the older one, wholly determined he would not be cowed; a determination not lost on the man before him. In the dimly lit balcony the whites of their eyes were all they could truly see. A slight curve appeared unseen on the lips of the older man. His hand reached into the deep pockets of his native attire bringing out a leather humidor little bigger than the length of his hand.

Carved ivory ran along the edges of the leather, the pearly white still able to gleam in the gloom. Popping open the case revealed four Connecticut Broadleaf Maduro wrapped cigars. A slight aroma of cognac wafted through the cool night air. With great reverence he took one out placing it beneath his wide Nubian nose. His eyes closed drinking deeply, Namdi standing in front of him temporarily forgotten. No longer able to wait, he clipped the end of the cigar. In-between his teeth it went, thumb and forefinger holding on to the golden band.

Namdi did not waste any time, bringing a match to life. It flared up driving away the subtle darkness around them for a time. It lit up Mr. Shagari's face, alternating between shadow and light giving a hard unyielding vibe. Around his eyes Namdi could see lines forming trenches that told a tale he knew he would never take the risk to ask. It did not mean he was any less curious. War was an experience they did not share. Like all things alive, the match soon died, its life passed on to the smoldering end of the now glowing cigar. The scent of cognac grew stronger in the air among other flavors Namdi could not quite pin point. His father in law took a long drag from the cigar, his countenance visibly becoming as the smoke he released into the air; free. 

An expression of surprise grew on Namdi's face when he saw the hand with the leather case held up to him. It was not the first time Mr. Shagari had lit up in his presence, yet each time he had been nothing but a spectator. Afraid a change of heart would occur Namdi put aside his reservations, helping himself to his father in laws generosity. In his hand Namdi could feel the opulent nature of the cigar. It was heavier than he initially expected. Finger and thumb travelling down to the band led him to the truth behind the mystery. Real gold! he realized, shocked enough the etches in the band were lost to him.

Clipping the end he placed the cigar between his teeth, a match lighting the end. Two puffs in quick succession followed by the release of bluish white smoke. He watched the smoke float, dragons in the cool night air. They curled around roaring silently, freedom suiting them well before their inevitable disappearance into the ever dark night. He felt he could watch them till the end of time, the multitudes of flavor still undecipherable. Like all good things, there will be some kind of end.

"The first time I cheated on my wife was not planned." 

The two men no longer faced each other, pupils firmly trained on the stars above them.

"I can never forget her name, at least I could never bear to try. Even now those sweet four letters hold me in their sway."

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It is the lies I seek, that my fantasy may live on

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 30

Soft laughter was Zainab's answer to her mothers words. Without turning she could already feel her mom studying her closely. 

"Will there be a day when you come to this house and not accuse my husband of cheating?"

"Daughter of mine, men are not as they seem. Look at your father didn't he..."

"Don't you dare say anything about daddy!"

Mrs. Shagari's lips firmly pressed against each other after her daughters outburst. The kitchen was devoid of the sound of voices. It was not a complete silence, the torrent of water from the kitchen tap a reminder the tranquility was not true. Dish after dish was washed and rinsed; passed from the hands of daughter to mother. Soon there was no more dirty plates to occupy the hands. Still they stood there, both not wanting to be the first to move. The tap now off Zainab began to feel the pressure of the quiet. Unable to take it anymore she caved, turning to her mom. 

"Just because you say it over and over doesn't make it true."

"What about the tracker I put in his car for you. You are telling me he has never once lied about where he was?"

Zainab hesitated then began to speak.

"Yes, he has never once lied. Just because you have no trust in daddy does not mean I have to be you."

"I am your mother, no matter what you do in the end you will forever be like me."

"Never!"

Zainab's mom laughed, walking to the kitchen island to sit down. 

"Daughters grow up to be their mothers my dear. You could have told him about the tracker in his car at anytime but you didn't."

A pain crept up her heart when faced with the inability to refute her mothers words. What a hateful woman Zainab thought, fingernails biting into the softened skin of her palms. She said nothing in reply, choosing to ignore the one who sat on her kitchen chair. Rather she made her way to the stove to put the finishing touches on dinner. Her mother on the other hand would not let up.

"You will thank me one day when you too have children of your own. Then you will understand all I do is for you. Speaking of which, have you convinced him to..."

Mrs. Shagari stopped mid sentence as she heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. A smiling Namdi walked through the open door. 

"Is there anything I can help with Mrs. Shag.., I mean mommy."

"Such a good child, don't worry yourself, your wife is taking good care of me."

Namdi did not notice anything amiss as he walked past his mother in law on his way to Zainab's side giving her a short hug.

"Food smells amazing. Where are the matches?"

"Cupboard beside the sink. What do you need matches for? You and dad better not be smoking again."

"Of course not. We wouldn't dare."

He sounded very unconvincing. Finding the matches he quickly made his way out of the kitchen not wishing to give Zainab a chance for further interrogation. Having escaped an atmosphere which felt like a recent battlefield Namdi stopped just out of sight of the kitchen door hoping to hear snippets of their conversation. As he waited, he looked to the floor remembering Zainab had shattered a few cups against the wall earlier today. Seeing nothing he smiled in his heart at the meticulous way his wife handled things. Having fruitlessly stood there for a little under a minute, Namdi made his way to the balcony.

There was nothing special about the place they called the balcony. It had been a last minute addition to the architectural plans. Zainab wanted to be able to spy on the neighbors or at least that was what she said. A strange reason considering at the time they had no neighbors. Instead they were surrounded by acres of forest. The second time they had made love beneath the stars had been right there. It had been late December, the heat they generated with their bodies easily driving away the cold. Celestial objects gazed upon them, twinkling in approval of their fiery affair. Her father currently stood on that balcony, looking out into the dark star filled sky.

Standing outside the glass sliding doors Namdi watched Mr. Shagari. Even alone the man stood ram rod straight, his military bearing hard to miss. Though not as tall as Namdi, there was never a time Namdi stood beside him that he felt above the man. Clamping down on the budding fear within him, Namdi slid the door open. His father in law did not turn around, his eyes fixed on the starry night sky. Namdi's mouth opened and closed, unsure if he should speak. After a quick debate he decided to remain silent and just watch the stars as well. Decision made, Namdi took a step placing him shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Shagari. As his chin lifted to the heavens he heard words coming from beside him that made him shudder.

"Do not hurt my daughter."

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holarbolu:
Am glad you do enjoy this, and I'm sorry I had to break into diction vault, and you have to bear with me.

I hope my previous comment was not construed as a request for a change in your current parlance. It's nice to see certain choices outside classic literary works. I merely wanted to draw your attention to the increased importance of the other aspects of a literary work when working with striking vocabulary.

Imperfections playing Bach's Chaconne should seem more evident than lets say Allegro.

Quite an interesting, expansive and ambitious world you are attempting to build

That said,

Though there's nothing wrong in being a wordsmith and showing of your extensive vocabulary, it becomes glaring when it is not used properly; turning your work into a turbulent read rife with syntax, tenses and grammar problems.

It is especially heavy in the prologue but with each chapter you tamp it down bit by bit leading to less and less misuse which invariably makes for a better rhythm and flow to the story.

Rereading your story out loud sometimes helps

Goodluck, i'll check in for your next update

Oluwakemi65:
No problem. Still following

Lol. Thanks. Looks like it is you and me on this till the end

I swim in an ocean of love

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 29

At the door a couple waited, unmasked impatience on the face of one. On their person were attires matching in fabric but very different in their design.

"Namdi how many times must I tell you to call me mommy."

A look of longing appeared on Namdi's features for a fleeting moment as he heard this. Her hands went to her tapered waist in a posture of disapproval, her lithe body bouncing on the ball of her foot. Framing her softly made up face was long wavy dark hair.  She was still a pretty woman even with her approaching 50th birthday a little over a week away. One could easily see where Zainab's beauty came from.

"Welcome mommy."

"Yes my son! Now come here."

Namdi took a step, walking into her open arms now glad he had taken the painkillers. Her perfume drifted to him with each breath, subtle and pleasant. The top of her head was easily visible. He still could not tell where her natural hair ended and the long locks of Virgin Peruvian began. Zainab had said her mother had Peruvian ancestry but she would never be able to finish the sentence with a straight face, breaking into laughter each time. How could this woman be over 40 Namdi thought, his knees slightly bent so he did not tower over her.

"Please come in, mommy you should find Zainab in the kitchen."

Stepping back from her embrace Namdi moved to the side for them to enter.

"That daughter of mine is in the kitchen. What happened to the chef?"

"On vacation. Should be back in a couple weeks."

"I better hurry then before what we eat is less food and more..."

Namdi did not hear the rest of it, her voice far enough away. Turning he saw his father-in-law staring intently at him, still outside the house.

"Sir?"

Feeling uncomfortable under Mr. Shagari's scrutiny Namdi's fingers began to fidget. Not wanting the older man to see them he quickly put his hands behind his back, involuntarily standing straighter. The man had not said a word, merely standing there like a boulder in a flowing stream unaware of the passage of time. An unseen pressure came of him that Namdi felt the full brunt off. He never could explain it but each time he met Zainab's father he felt less a man and more an object the man had obtained at great expense to his wishes.

"This door does not suit this house."

"Sir?"

Namdi felt stupid with how he seemed to only have the ability to say 'sir' to this man. Determined not to be reduced to single word sentences he began to speak again.

"It's not..."

Mr. Shagari walked past him into the house, ignoring the next words out of Namdi's mouth. Namdi's speech ground to a halt. He did not let his current emotion see the light of day. Swallowing the insult he followed behind Mr. Shagari as they made their way to the balcony, walking past floating kitchen gossip. 

"This my daughter, can't you see the vegetable should have been steamed for longer. And the meat on this high heat? They've already killed the animal, are you trying to kill it again?"

"You don't have to be here."

"Then where should I be?"

"The house is big there are plenty places for you to go to."

"My own daughter chasing me away after I..."

"Yes, yes you spent 18 hours giving birth to me. How many times will you play that card."

Zainab threw the sponge in her hands into the left sink half filled with water, splashing her apron with a healthy dose of soapy liquid. Her mother walked up beside her, picking up the sponge and handing it back to Zainab. Rolling her sleeves up she began to help her daughter rinse dishes, her mouth still working though dropping in volume.

"So you know now?"

"Know what again?"

"Zainab why are you pretending to your mother? That your husband is cheating on you."

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Pain, joy, loss; the extremes of emotions leave the deepest prints in the sand that is our memories

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 28

In the entrance of their home Zainab let herself sink into Namdi's embrace. Faintly her senses picked up the last traces of the hospital on him. Like that they remained, saying nothing, merely enjoying the calm they both knew would be shattered at this very door hours from now.

"We have to go in at some point."

"Why?"

"There has to be food for a dinner to happen."

"Can't the cook do it?"

"Silly, you've already forgotten cook's on vacation."

"If I help can we stay like this for a little longer?"

"Maybe if I want to burn down our kitchen you can help."

She shrieked, Namdi having pinched her bottom in revenge. He had no other way to reply her nod to the past. It had been the first time she had come to his apartment. Wanting to impress her he had taken advice from a supposed friend to cook her a meal. They both knew he couldn't cook. Namdi could vividly remember how his friend had gushed about how she would love it, completely glossing over the difficulty of it. To think it would end up with Zainab having to help him put out a fire. As he watched all his meager efforts go up in smoke, kitchen walls dark with soot, his will still remained strong until he heard his front door closing. She had left. Only then did he sink to the kitchen floor, his dreams of how this day would play out now smoke in the wind; on the walls. Namdi did not know how long he lay on the kitchen floor before he felt a foot prodding his thigh. Opening his eyes he saw Zainab with a smile on her face, in her hands two bags of Chinese food.

Her elbow dug into his still bruised ribs. The pain knocked away his thoughts of the past. His hold on Zainab weakened and she took the opportunity to nimbly slip away. Dashing into the house she left behind the giggles of a school girl. Pain subsiding Namdi chased her following the giggles to their source.

"Don't take a single step into this kitchen Namdi."

He stopped one foot in the air just before the kitchen door.

"We've got a few hours before they get here."

"I know, that's plenty of time for us to savor our sweet flavors."

"Stupid man, the only thing you'll be savoring is the aroma of my cooking. Go make yourself useful elsewhere."

"Haba, You are such a general when your parents are coming."

"I can't give my mom any excuse to start judging me."

"Your mom loves you Zainab. I've seen how she is"

"Namdi you truly are blind when it comes to my mom. The woman is a snake."

"I would think it would be your dad that one would call a..."

A cup flew out of the kitchen aimed at Namdi's head. He knew it would be coming already ducking out of the way.

"You truly are daddy's little girl" he said smiling.

"Namdi you want to try to say something about my dad again?"

In her hand was another cup.

"I wouldn't dare. But then a few nights ago, in the bedroom weren't you calling me..."

A second cup flew out the kitchen, barely missing and smashing against the wall behind Namdi. With a wide grin on his face Namdi backed away.

"Why don't you stand still."

"Because you don't throw like a babe."

She too was smiling, a third cup in her hand. When Namdi saw the cup she was nonchalantly tossing in the air and catching, his wide grin was no longer so wide.

"You win. Do you mind not breaking that one?"

"So you finally noticed. Alright, now get your tone butt up those stairs and go get ready."

With a sharp salute Namdi turned around heading for the rooms above. Now alone in the kitchen Zainab looked at the cup in her hand, her thumb running along the image of a bright eyed baby whale. She sighed, grabbing a kitchen cloth to wipe away non-existent smudges, the cloth soon slightly damp. Only then did she carefully return it to the back of the cupboard from whence it came. Walking to her bag she brought out her phone, a notification of downloaded files glanced at but set aside as she noted the time. Behind schedule she thought quickly grabbing an apron before she began to cook. Time marched on, the sweet aroma from the kitchen soon dominating the whole house. The sun slowly set, the disappearance of the last of its rays announced with the ringing of the doorbell.

The sound pierced through the silence, passing through the house unhindered. From the kitchen and from the rooms above, Namdi and Zainab turned towards the origin of the resonance. Mentally they prepared for what was to come. Knowing he could not dally, Namdi made his way to the front door. Taking a second to calm his nerves, he reached for the handle pulling it open.

"Mr. and Mrs. Shagari, welcome."

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Oluwakemi65:
My bad, I wasn't aware.

Hope all is well. No updates?

I wasn't aware either till a little over a week ago so my bad too lol.

Got a project I've a deadline on so haven't had as much time. I'll be increasing chapter content to 800 words and will try to release at least 3 chapters between Wednesday and Friday.

Sorry about the change in release schedule.

Thanks for your support

To trust another completely is to thrust on them an impossible task

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 27

Patiently Zainab waited for Namdi's response, one hand on the wheel and her eyes glued to the road. Houses came and went, the road pleasantly free of the usual noon day traffic. Namdi wet his lips, his left hand reaching for Zainab. He took her free hand in his. So small, so delicate he thought, her hand like a child in his.

"I'll say the same thing I have always said. It doesn't matter to me."

"But Namdi, they still think you are the problem..."

"Doesn't matter, it's not like I'm so weak I can't handle the pressure."

A sigh escaped Zainab's lips. She could not look at Namdi, a rare expression of guilt appearing on her face.

"Maybe we should just tell them the truth?"

"What would that accomplish Zainab?"

"I... I... I don't know. If only that bitch of a mother would just die of..."

Zainab stopped herself at the same time Namdi's hand left hers.

"I'm sorry, I forgot for a moment. I didn't mean to say that Namdi."

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

Looking at him Zainab could see it wasn't fine. He once again looked out the window watching the scenery go by. Like that they drove in silence, the clock on the dashboard marking the minutes go by. Wanting to break the deadlock, Zainab's right hand reached out, landing on Namdi's thigh. Getting no reaction from him she began to work her way up, her eyes leaving the road to ensure she was on the right path.

"Hey hey, focus on the road!"

A broken down trailer blocked their way, two men frantically waving tree branches desperate for the car barreling towards them to change lane. With no time to spare, Zainab quickly swung the wheel, safely speeding past but sending the two men diving for cover.

Both hearts jack hammered an inconsistent tempo, struggling to break free of their enclosure. They looked at each other and began to laugh, the grim reapers sickle safely left behind. The tension in the car eased. Fiddling with the knobs, Namdi got the radio working switching stations till he reached one playing soft tunes.

"You really do like copying me."

"Pray tell what do you mean?"

"Because I crashed my car you too want to join the crashers club."

"Oh so now you are proud about being in an accident."

Balling her hand into a fist, Zainab lightly punched Namdi in the ribs. Namdi howled in pain, his face a carbon copy of a wounded puppy.

"Stop exaggerating, we both know it doesn't hurt that much."

"Woman you are too cruel. Is this how you treat your husband?"

"Yes, and it will be how I treat my next husband."

"Next husband? Which next husband?"

"If I can change clothes why can't I change husband."

"Zainab, I'm not going anywhere."

Each word was laced with emotion, his hand holding onto hers once again. The second soon joining to create a protective cocoon.

"Even when i'm old and grey and no longer as sexy as I am now."

"You'll always be sexy Zainab."

"Please don't come with these cheesy lines again. Beauty fades with time"

"Okay, okay. By the way did you find the ring?"

"No. Checked at the forgotten items and the front desk. Probably someone took it at the crash site."

"Maybe we can go there and check if..."

"Forget it Namdi, it's just gold in a circle with an inscription. We can get a new one."

"Alright, alright."

Zainab did not notice the relief that flooded Namdi's face.

"Did you have the doctor check the burn on your fingers?"

The car slowed down, Zainabs foot easing off the accelerator with a slight tremble. Namdi saw nothing amiss, the turning to their home approaching.

"Can't be disturbing the doctors over a little stove burn. I was too busy worrying about you!"

"What would I do without you Zainab?"

Turning into their drive way, Zainab parked the car before swiveling to Namdi. With both hands she cupped his chin, enjoying the strong jawline and the feel of his rough prickly day old beard against her palms. Around them soft music joined the scent of violet, enveloping them in. Leaning over the divide she kissed him. Short and sweet, pulling away before he could get more than a taste.

"You'll never get the chance to find out Namdi."

With that she opened the car door and began to walk towards the entrance to their home, bag in hand. Reaching the simple door made of cheap metal she frowned. Zainab said nothing, merely rooting in her bag for the keys. With a twist she dealt with the lock, expending some effort for the door to swing open. Before she could take a step into the dimly lit hall, two strong arms wrapped around her waist, embracing her from behind.

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Innocence lost cannot be regained

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 26

Behind a white Mercedes, a hospital shrunk into the distance; white bunny having the last look. Zainab sat at the wheel looking straight ahead. The scent of violet hung in the air. Beside her Namdi remained in quiet contemplation, feeling better after putting that building behind him. Not a word had been said since they got into the car at the hospital. More than a few kilometers had speedily gone by thanks to Zainabs complete disregard of the speed limit. The cities noon day sun hung in the air working hard to punish those who had no choice but to brave the elements. Namdi and Zainab felt none of it, cocooned in their air conditioned luxury.

Red went the traffic light forcing Zainab to come to a complete stop. The sound of little hands hitting the passenger side window woke Namdi from his musings. 

"Uncle. Uncle. Uncle. Uncle. Anything, anything..."

Unwashed, thin, battered, they crowded the window struggling with each other to be the one in front. Beads of sweat were born on their foreheads only to be smeared away using the dirty fabric of their sleeves or palms with finger nails more black than pink. Longingly they looked through the slightly tinted windows seeing an escape to the heat that mercilessly beat on their heads. The smallest of the lot hopped from one foot to the other. At first it seemed like she too was trying to see into the car. On closer inspection one could see her bare feet had no protection against the scalding hot asphalt of the paved road. 

Namdi did not see the little girl, the ones in front were too densely packed. His eyes instead were glued to a little boy who struggled to stay in front of the pack. He was not the smallest of them but he also was not the biggest. In his eyes was a determination the others lacked. On him he wore a shirt that was merely a step away from having more holes than shirt. Still, Namdi could just make out the picture of what must have been an animal of some sort. 

"Uncle. Uncle. Anything..."

Hands went to mouths, a constant motion, the universal sign of hunger (except in Italy). Unable to silently watch any longer Namdi reached into his pocket only to meet fabric and nothing more. Looking down he remembered Zainab had brought him a change of clothes, his wallet still in his old pair folded neatly in the trunk of her car. Turning to Zainab he began to ask her for money but stopped himself when he saw she was looking right at him. The light turned green but she didn't move, impatient horns beginning to blare behind them. She ignored them holding Namdi's gaze as she searched for something. Only when she was ready did she begin to move, the little hands desperately and fruitlessly trying to hold on to the smoke passing through their fingers. Left behind once again.

"Kids?"

It was the first word any of them had uttered since they entered the car. It hung there, side by side with the scent of violet. Namdi did not immediately reply as he thought carefully how to respond. It would not be the first time they would be down this road.

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surveyorchimez:
The kind grammar you blow too much I got read with dictionary. But I must commend you r a fine writer..

Lolz, I apologize. Using this to train myself. I'll be more aware about my word choices from now on. Thanks for commenting

MYKELDAYO:
Nice one brother

Thanks for taking the time to comment. Sweet it's to your taste

The cost of satisfying our desires

TANGENT - My attempt at posting 2 chapters in 1 day. Trying to balance quantity, quality and pacing is such a chore. Slightly optimistic about the result


BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 25

He watched as she rose, his phone in hand, the screen dark. Namdi loathed this roller coaster of emotions he was being subjected to, cursing that other woman in his mind. Now all she needs to do is hand it to me. God why don't I password my phone. Namdi thought. When they first started dating it had been a surprise to Zainab when she picked up his unattended phone and realized it was not locked. Returning to their table after settling the bill, Namdi was treated to the view of Zainab going through the pictures on his phone. Unnoticed, he stood behind her for a few more minutes seeing how far she would go. When he saw her opening his Gtb bank app he lightly coughed. Like a little girl caught stealing meat from the pot she shrieked dropping the phone with a guilt ridden look that still somehow came off as cute.

"It doesn't look cracked, maybe I should turn it on to check if..."

Watching her press the home button Namdi's heart flew up to his throat, his hand damning it all and reaching for it even though it was already too late. Desperation drives us to attempt fruitless endeavors. In full view of the both of them, the home screen of the I-phone came up without a single crack.

"You really are lucky, no crack even after dropping from such a height."

Her finger tapped her lower lip like she pondered his luck. Seeing the home screen, all the tension bled from Namdi's muscles as he took the phone out of her hands. With the same care shown to a new born he cradled the phone in his hand unaware of Zainab's interest in his actions. Hope had planted a seed in his heart once again. He could finally see a possible rainbow at the end of this storm ridden times.

"I can't take this hospital anymore. I want to get out of here."

It came out in a whisper, his head shaking from left to right.

"Namdi, doctor said you can leave in..."

"Don't care, I won't spend another minute. The pain is bearable enough."

"Ok, ok i'll get Doctor Oluwakemi to sign the discharge papers. Men sometimes..."

His forcefulness only slightly surprised Zainab. Behind it she could still sense pain. The knowledge that he was not a fan of hospitals was not new to her. She had never felt closer to him than when he had shared it all to her. With the door closing behind her, Namdi let out a breath of relief. Quickly he began deleting again, determined to be rid of all the damning pictures, some of which contained more than just her. Finally he reached the last one, the first he had seen. A few seconds passed before he realized his finger still hovered over the delete button. She looked back at him, brown eyes reminding him of his truth. Another crossroad, a decision of his own making, the consequences to be borne not by him alone. Namdi watched the upload bar till it reached hundred percent. Only then did he delete the last picture from his phone.

twitter - @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

Thanks for reading

Oluwakemi65:
As the saying goes 'fear women'

Lolz. You learn it the easy way or the hard way. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

Ehmjay:
Lol
I knew Zainab knows something
Lemme kwantinue looking how this unfolds
Thumbs up OP

It's nice to know my little efforts to leave clues here and there are being picked up. I to am curious how this will unfold. So many options and one has to choose 1 hoping it's a good one.

We all have secrets (we think) we know no one knows

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 24

On a bed she lay, body facing up, Cleopatra in her pose. Stomach stretched, back arched, a single finger between her teeth as she gazed longingly at him in nothing but a white shirt. His shirt, the buttons undone, showing the outline of the flat of her stomach while revealing the valley of her bosom; each peak barely hidden. One leg reached forever into the sky toes curled; the other bending at the knee with a hand caressing a taut thigh.

Namdi could not look away, eyes glued to the marvel he saw on his phone. It was the first photo. He looked at her as she looked back at him, the blood in his veins pulsing harder, pumping faster, heat coming off him in waves. Even in 2D she was vibrant and alive. Swipe of the thumb to reach the end merely gave birth to photo after photo, each more provocative than the last. The sound of hurrying footsteps outside the door of his hospital room stopped him cold.

Horror set in as the danger of his situation hit him like a sledgehammer. Namdi knew he had to move but his body refused to comply, frozen in terror. Do something! He silently shouted in vain, unable to do anything but listen as the footsteps got closer and closer. It reached his front door, an agitated Namdi waiting, watching the knob of the door, the executioners axe coming closer and closer to his neck. Hearing the footsteps fading into the distance, Namdi felt a heavy pressure lifted from his shoulders, mobility returning to his limbs.

The fear of what might have been galvanized him, his fingers a flurry of motion deleting the pictures. Picture after picture disappeared from the world, nervous glances aimed at the door. More than half way through Namdi let out a small sigh of relief knowing he would soon finish and devoting his full attention to the task. The door knob turned, shocking an unprepared Namdi, the phone slipping from his hand, a picture of her curving seductively against a door filling the screen.

Over and over the phone turned, gravity embracing it in her unforgiving grasp till it landed face down on the unyielding hospital floor. Namdi nearly cried out in frustration.

"Honey you won't believe the things that people forget here!"

"Do tell Zainab. Find anything for the one who has everything?"

His voice remained steady, mind working a mile a minute. I have to distract her, Namdi thought while also trying to remember how much time he had set for the screen to turn of.

"Has everything? What is that meant to mean?"

"Zainab, you know how hard it is to get you a gift. Remember your birthday shortly after we started dating..."

She laughed as she reminisced. Running a hand through her dark hair she moved to Namdi's bedside, her complete focus on his cut lip.

"You thought you were such a Casanova back then. What did you even get me again?"

"Woman, stop pretending like you don't remember."

"Oh, so you know what I remember and don't remember. I'm guessing you also know what i'm thinking too."

Zainab looked at Namdi, seeming to dare him to read between the lines, her face inches away from his. From the door to his side he could swear she glided on air.  He forever marveled at the way she moved. She has the grace of a panther, sleek, silent and elegant but sometimes it felt like there was an inkling of something more; A thought Namdi could not quite shake off but did not dwell on. Seeing her so close to him he reached up to kiss her, body still emanating heat.

"This guy! After we were just caught red handed."

Roughly she pushed him away, her hand pressing his back to the hospital bed.

"Alright, alright, I thought you wanted a kiss is all."

"After the time we were pretty much caught at the company Christmas party, we agreed we would be more careful."

"And whose idea was it? Zainab tell me whose idea it was to use my bosses office?"

Zainab looked sheepishly at Namdi.

"He never comes for the Christmas parties. How was I meant to know... It's weird you still call him boss even now."

"I'm sorry Zainab, I'll try harder to stop. Now come here and tell me what you found."

He reached for her but she nimbly dodged his outstretched hand aiming for her waist.

"What is this? Isn't this your phone on the floor?"

Dancing away from him she saw the phone slightly under the bed.

"Zainab don't worry about it, first tell me what you found at the lost and found."

"Namdi why are you now acting like i'm a spoiled brat that can't bend down to pick up a phone."

Chuckling she reached for the phone. Namdi lay there, powerless to do anything, reduced to praying enough time had passed. Mind crunching up one unsatisfactory answer after another for what she might see.

twitter - @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

Thanks for reading

Ehmjay:
The story is amazing...
Lemme quickly take frontseat dey enjoy diz masterpiece

You sir are too kind. I tip my hat to your commentary. Thanks