₦airaland Forum

Those monkeys deserve national award.

Good development.

I studied English language in the universiy, but I teach Yoruba language in addition to my main subject.

Èkọ́ Yorùbá dára púpọ̀.

If you have food in your fridge, clothes on your body, a roof over your head and a place to sleep, you're richer than 75% of the entire world.

If you have money in your wallet, a little change, and can go anywhere you want, you are among the top 18% of the world's wealthy people.

If you are alive today with more health than illness, you are more blessed than the million people who will not survive this week and die.

If you can actually 'READ' this message and understand it, you are more fortunate than the 3 billion people in the world who cannot see, cannot read or suffer mental retardation.

Life is not about complaining pain and sorrows. It's about a thousand other reasons to be grateful and happy.

Thanks for Reading.

Focus

Focus is key. One must remain unwavering in the determination.

Many factors can derail the focus. The harsh economic realities can make one lose focus or hope.

This must not be allowed. Under no circumstance must one lose focus.

A Nigerian man is devastated after learning that none of the four children he has been raising are biologically his. The shocking discovery came after he took the children for a DNA test.

In a video shared by Lucky Udu on Facebook, the man revealed that he and his wife had been married for 16 years. However, a DNA analysis recently showed that he did not father any of the children he had been providing for all these years.

The man recounted meeting his wife in 2005, and in February 2007, she became pregnant. Accepting responsibility, they planned their wedding and got married in September of the same year. Over time, they had four children together.

In 2020, the couple had a disagreement, which led to the man temporarily leaving their home. He later returned, but in 2021, his wife left the house without any apparent reason. In 2023, as he sought to reunite with his children, he decided to conduct a DNA test. To his horror, the results revealed that none of the children were biologically his.

The man shared that the news caused him to collapse, and he was in a coma for seven days. Now, he is considering taking legal action against his wife and has expressed his desire for the government to take custody of the children

Determination

After setting the goal, it is important to have determination. One must have determination to succeed.

There must be the interest and the zeal. Nothing must stop or derail the determination.

Goal setting

It is important that to succeed in life, one must set a goal.

Yes, one may even achieve beyond the goal, but at least, one must have set it.

Goals must be realistic and reasonable. Setting fantastic goals has made many people to become frustrated. Your goals must be achievable.

She is Christine, from USA. She is sitting next to the cobbler on the pavement of Janpath, New Delhi, India.

She had to wait a while, until her broken shoe was fixed. She chose to sit near him on the floor.

No inhibitions, whatsoever. None caste, status or race reservations.

You know what: The cobbler did not take a penny from her.. because he felt respected, for never ever has any one sat next to him while he was doing his job.

Life has always had challenges. From ages to ages. The challenges of life currently must not overwhelm you.

I have decided they will never overwhem me. I will not allow the Nigerian situation that is in the throes of hardship to choke me.

No, I must survive. I must succeed and I must excel. I urge you to have the same zeal.

A lady worked at a meat distribution factory.

One day, when she finished with her work schedule, she went into the meat cold room (Freezer) to inspect something, but in a moment of misfortune, the door closed and she was locked inside with no help in sight.

Although she screamed and knocked with all her might, her cries went unheard as no one could hear her. Most of the workers had already gone, and outside the cold room it's impossible to hear what was going on inside.


Five hours later, whilst she was at the verge of death, the security guard of the factory eventually opened the door.

She was miraculously saved from dying that day.

When she later asked the security guard how he had come to open the door, which wasn't his usual work routine.

His explanation: "I've been working in this factory for 35 years, hundreds of workers come in and out every day, but you're one of the few who greet me in the morning and say goodbye to me every night when leaving after work. Many treat me as if I'm invisible.

Today, as you reported for work, like all other days, you greeted me in your simple manner 'Hello'. But this evening after working hours, I curiously observed that I

had not heard your "Bye, see you tomorrow".

"Hence, I decided to check around the factory. I look forward to your 'hi' and 'bye' every day because they remind me that I am someone.

"By not hearing your farewell today, I knew something had happened. That's why I was searching every where for you."

Be humble, love and respect those around

you. Try to have an impact on people who

cross your path every day, you never know

what tomorrow will bring..

Stay Blessed.

“Why do you close your eyes?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I completely removed her bra. Now, I could clearly see those lovely boobs. They were modest in size but very firm. I was breathing hard as I kissed the nipples. I could feel them harden as my mouth made contact with them. Now, I had the authority to cuddle, kiss and caress them.

“They are beautiful,” I said in a voice scarcely above whispers. “I’m not surprised. Just like I said before, they’re the most beautiful breasts I had even seen.”

She clung unto me and held me very tightly. That very evening, I proved to her that I was a complete man.

Now, I was happily married. I loved my wife and liked her upbringing. I liked the fact that her father was a pastor and that she had a good and godly background.

Busola turned to be a good wife and a wonderful home maker. With my connection, I was able to get her a job in a giant multinational telecommunication company. I also give her some money to upgrade her wardrobe.

Our first child was a boy named Anthony. Two years later, a baby girl came and we named her Elizabeth. I was now in the fourth year of working for Ms. Morgan. It was election year and by June, the baton of leadership would change in the national assembly. Simply put, the work of Ms. Morgan and I would soon come to an end.

It had been worthwhile and I would never forget the experience. I was yet to make up my mind whether to continue to work for Ms. Morgan or to look elsewhere.

By middle of February, when campaigns were winding up, I got a most devastating news of my life. Busola was driving to her office and she got hit from behind by a truck that lost control.

It was a ghastly accident. She was the only one in the car and was rushed to the intensive care unit of a private hospital. By the time I got there she had passed on.

I could not believe it. I was even too shock to cry at that moment. Busola? My own darling wife? It was incredible. Later, I was inconsolable. How could this happen to me? How could I have a marriage that lasted just a couple of years?

How would I cope without Busola? And the children – oh, poor children. They were still young; how would I cope with taking care of them?

I almost lost my bearing the following days and weeks. But then, I realized that life always had ups and downs. It was an unfortunate thing, but life must go on. Thankfully, my mother-in-law agreed to take care of Tony and Elizabeth in Osogbo. What a turn of life!
The following day, after Busola's burial, Ms. Morgan paid me a visit.

"You need to take heart and not to remain depressed," she advised. "Such is life. Take, get out of the doldrums and come back to life. You can always count on me. I'll be there for you."
"Thank you madam." Before she left, she gave along bear hug I felt was longer than necessary.



In the first week of June, Ms. Morgan called me to her office.

“Mrs. Bukola Abdulahi has been reelected as a member of the House of Representatives,” Mrs. Morgan started, “but she will not come back as deputy Speaker in the new assembly. What are your plans after this job has ended?”
I sighed. “I’m yet to decide, I will take time to decide what exactly to do with myself.”

Ms. Morgan nodded and smiled. She seemed happy about my answer. “I have an offer for you,” she said.

I tried to grin. Ms. Morgan was always trying to be nice. “What offer, madam?”

“Listen, Tayo. Let me say this, your coming into my life has brought many good things for me, and I won’t forget that. I want you to be my G.M.”

“G.M? General Manager?”

She chuckled. “No, I mean Group Manager. I want you to be the manager that oversees all many stores and business outfits. Of course, the money is not as good as what you’re currently earning, but I’ll still make it worthwhile for you.”

I was full of thoughts. “Madam, your coming into my life has been wonderful for me, too. I really thank God for bringing me into contact with you. I really appreciate you. I will accept your offer, madam.”

“Hey, you don’t even know how much I would offer, yet.”

I shrugged. “I know it will be okay.”

She stood up from behind her big desk and came towards me. “I’m glad you accepted, Tayo. Come and give me a hug.”

I stood up to hug her. Again the hug was long and I could feel a shocking wave pass through my body. Why was it that anything I had a full body contact with her, I had such an experience?

Was I the one imagining things?

At the end of the Abuja work, I returned to Lagos. Meanwhile, T.K had married and I could not stay with him again.

"I just acquired a new duplex at Ilupeju," she said. "There's a self-contained mini flat in what used to be the boys' quarters. If you don't mind, you can stay there at no cost."

It was a good and tempting offer but I had to say no politely. I should be on my own by now. I went on to rent a two-bedroom flat at Mafoluku to start another phase of life.

Ms. Morgan had three stores now and I was to oversee all of them. I had decided to give the job a trial. If things did not go as I envisaged, I would quit. The job meant I would always be on the move, from Allen to Opebi and Ogba. The good thing was the businesses were doing well and I was able to adjust easily.

The pay was good, but still far lower than what I was getting before. I also had to adjust my spending habit. The good thing was I was always prudent with spending.

The significant thing was Ms. Morgan remained very generous to me. Two months after coming back to Lagos, there was a Sunday she called me in the afternoon.

"Are you at home?" she asked. "I want to come around to see you. I was surprised by her intent.

"Let me come around to your place, Ma," I quickly said.

I carried her to my bedroom and we flopped on the bed together. I stared at her bust.

“Why are you staring like that?” she asked.

“Staring at what?” I asked cheekily.

“Why are you staring at what you are staring at?”

“The question is: what am I staring at?”

She giggled. “You mean you don’t know what you’re staring at?”

I grinned. “I don’t know what they call it.”

“Call what?”

I slightly touched her right boob. She seemed surprised and almost cringed.

“Don’t worry,” I quickly said. “I’m only playing with you, and there’re limits. So, tell me, what do they call this?”

I touched her breast again. She closed her eyes.

“Call what?”

I gently caressed the breast. “This thing I’m handling.”

“What are you handling?”

Those were smart answers. I squeezed the breast.

“It looks and feels beautiful.”

Her eyes remained closed. “How could you tell something you’ve not seen is beautiful?”

“Ops, you’re right. Can I see them?”

She didn’t answer me. Should I take that as a go-ahead answer? Maybe.

She was wearing a sky blue shirt over a long, denim skirt. Gently, I unbuttoned the shirt. It was encouraging that she didn’t resist. I could see that she was wearing a peach bra.

The modest sized boobs nestled inside the cups of the bra. I stared at them for some seconds.

Of course, I could never forget that I had made a no pre-marital sex vow to her, and she had agreed.

Still encased in the cups of the bra, I kissed the right and the left breast. I could see her breathing hard. I was breathing hard too.

Alright, it was enough.

“They are the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen,” I muttered.

“Thank you,” she cooed.

I started buttoning her shirt back. She opened her eyes in surprise.

“I thought you were about to break your promise.”

I shook my head. “No. Even if I strip you completely naked, I will not break the promise.”

She grinned without saying a word.

“I will have full access when we’re married. Then I will nibble at the nipples and suck the breasts.”

She still didn’t say anything.

Unlike Lawyer Becky, Busola had agreed with all the conditions I gave. I didn’t expect anything else.

About a year into the relationship, which was about three months after she did the passing out parade with the NYSC, we did a small wedding in Osogbo, Osun State.

Despite telling Ms. Morgan I wanted a quiet wedding, she brought many guests, some from Lagos and some from Abuja. She virtually sponsored the wedding and I was eternally grateful to her.

My new bride and I had lodged in a small hotel in Osogbo. At our first night together, I had looked at her proudly. Busola was dressed in a wedding down that was well and beautifully made without showing any cleavage. I put her on the bed.

“Permit me to UnCloth you, my dear,” I said. Slowly, I undressed her to the white bra and the white pant. Everything she wore was new, including the undies. Now, I had the right to unclasp the bra and see her breasts in total nudity. She closed her eyes.

“Why do you close your eyes?”

In a restaurant in America, the waitress gave a lunch menu to a man and his wife and before looking at the menu, they asked her to give them the two cheapest dishes because they did not have that much money.

They were going through a tough time as they had not received their salary for many months.

Waitress Sarah did not think for long. She recommended them two dishes and they agreed without hesitation that they were the cheapest. She brought both the orders and they ate hungrily and quickly, and before leaving they asked the waitress for the bill. She came back to them with a piece of paper in her billing wallet which read: “I have paid your bill from my account considering your circumstances. This is a hundred dollars as a gift from me and this is the least I can do for you. Thank you for coming.

To Sarah’s surprise, she was extremely happy to pay the couple’s lunch bill despite her difficult financial circumstances. However, she had been saving money for almost a year to buy an automatic washing machine as she had difficulty washing clothes with the old washing machine.

When her friend came to know about the matter, Sarah’s friend scolded her a lot. Because she had saved this money by putting her own and her child’s needs behind. She needed to buy a washing machine for herself more than helping others.

Meanwhile, she got a call from her mother who said loudly: “Sarah what did you do?”

Fearing an unbearable shock, she replied in a slow, trembling voice: “I did nothing. What happened?

Her mother responded: "Social media is going crazy in praising you and your gesture. The man and his wife posted your message on Facebook when you paid the bill on their behalf and many more people shared it. I am so proud of you."...

She had barely finished her conversation with her mother when a school friend called her and told her that her message had gone viral on all digital social platforms.

As soon as Sarah opened her Facebook account, she received hundreds of messages from TV producers and press reporters asking her to meet them to talk about her special move.

The next day, Sarah appeared on one of the most popular and most-watched American TV shows. The presenter gave her a very luxurious washing machine, a modern television set, and ten thousand dollars. She received a five thousand dollar shopping voucher from the electronics company. The amount of appreciation for her great humanitarian gesture even reached more than $100,000.

Two dishes costing less than a hundred dollars changed his life.
Generousness is not giving something you don't need to someone, but giving something you need to someone else in need.

Real poverty is the poverty of humanity and attitude.

Sometimes, she would we needed to work on Sunday. I must say she was very generous. She was always giving and asking me if there was anything I needed. Our relationship remained official but cordial.

For now, I was under the payroll of the federal government. Of course, the remuneration was times three of what Ms. Morgan had earlier offered. I never hesitated to thank her for the opportunity she had given me.

I threw myself at the work and gave it my best. To be at par with current happenings, I read a lot of political news, articles and commentaries. I even read a lot of Nigerian political history, learning the differences between the parliamentary system of government that Nigeria practiced in the 1st Republic and the presidential system she practiced in the current 4th Republic.

Months into the job, I was having a good time. My lifestyle had changed and I could afford a lot of things I could not achieve before. Apart from trendy wears, I had a Honda car. I also got a better apartment, a two-bedroom flat at Kubwa area. Any time I visited Lagos, I still stayed with my dear brother, T.K. he genuinely felt happy for me.

Since the day Lawyer Becky reacted angrily at me for not yielding to her amorous request, I had not heard or communicated with her. I could confidently say that she had become one of the past events of my life.

A year after I started working for Ms. Morgan, things continued to be rosy. My job afforded me the opportunity to mix with not only members of the House of Representatives but some politicians. A year and half after I started the work, a female corps member by the name Busola was posted to do her national service at the office of the CoS to the deputy Speaker.

Specifically, Busola was posted to my office and she was to work under me. She was a twenty-four-year-old dark and slim lady who dressed conservatively. I mean she neither used make-up nor wear any embroidery. She was quite pretty but always appeared shy and reserved. I liked her for the fact that she was dedicated and hardworking.

I would soon be twenty-seven and I felt it would not be bad if I should start planning how to settle down. Busola seemed to be the ideal lady for me. For the months that she had worked with me, I had neither been romantic nor show amorous inclination towards her. Now it was time to do so.

On a Tuesday afternoon, I called her and expressed my desire to be her love. I made her understand I was not talking about a fling or office romance.

“I really desire to settle down with you. I want you as my legal life partner. I want to marry. Are you interested?”

Busola did not immediately agree, but neither did she dissent. A relationship started between us. It was purely platonic. Even when she visited my apartment, I restrained myself from having sexual inter course with her.
In one of such moments, I held her gingerly by the waist and stared into her eyes.

“You’re so pretty, Busola. But, above all, I love your character.”

“I love you too.”

“Me or my character?”

She smiled warmly. “Both. Everything about you.”

I carried her to my bedroom and we flopped on the bed together. I stared at her bust.

“Why are you staring like that?” she asked.

There was bitterness, anger and hatefulness in her tone. I decided not to stay a minute longer in her flat. As soon as I stepped out, she slammed the door at my back.

What an anticlimax! Life could be such a big paradox. The same woman I was kissing and caressing some minutes ago was the one hissing at me and treating me so scornfully.
This was certainly a misadventure, I concluded as I returned to our flat.


On Sunday morning, I decided to do general clean-up of the house, T.K would soon be going to church. He did not like my infrequent attendance of Sunday service, but he had to let me be. I remained indoor till afternoon. About 1.00 p.m. I prepared lunch of rice.

“I’m definitely going miss to you,” T.K said. “All the same, best of luck.”

At two o’clock, I took my bag and left for Ikeja. At Off Toyin Street, Ms. Morgan lived in a three-bedroom apartment. I met Linda there. Minutes later, Linda drove Ms. Morgan and me to the airport. I could see tears in her eyes as she waved bye to Ms. Morgan. The fifty minutes’ flight was smooth. I sat next to Ms. Morgan who was busy reading some documents.

At Abuja airport, we took a cab to the legislative quarters. Ms. Morgan had been allocated a detached three-bedroom bungalow. In the house, she had a maidservant and a cook. Briefly, she explained some working and living schedules to me.

“You would have to manage a room in the back quarter for now,” she said and showed me to the room. It was a neat and standard room with a 4 inches by 6 inches bed, a reading table, a chair and an in-built wardrobe.

I opened my bag and arranged some of the clothes I had brought inside the wardrobe.
Some minutes, the maid came to tell me that madam would like to see me in the main building. I went to see her.

“I hope you’re not bored. I will get a television for your room by tomorrow,” she said as soon as I got inside the large sitting-room.

“Oh, I can always manage to get by.”

She motioned me to one of the exquisite, leather seats in the room. I sat down graciously.

“You can stay around for now to watch the t.v. Do not hesitate to let me know anything you need.”

I nodded. “Alright, madam.”

She soon left the sitting-room. I changed the channel of the television to a news channel. A while later, the maid told me food was ready.

“Will you like to eat it here, or should I take it to your room?”

I thought I needed privacy, so I said she should take the food to my room. I got up and returned to the room.

I followed Ms. Morgan to her office in the official car the following day. Everything still looked like a movie to me. On her instruction, her secretary gave me letter of employment and identity card. She also briefed me about where my office would be and other official matters.

Working for Ms. Morgan was interesting and fruitful. Now, I was closely working with her. The working schedule varied, as sometimes we could be in the office as late at nine in the night. Sometimes, she would we needed to work on Sunday. I must say she was very generous. She was always giving and asking me if there was anything I needed.

Our relationship remained official but cordial.
For now, I was under the payroll of the federal government. Of course, the remuneration was times three of what Ms. Morgan had earlier offered. I never hesitated to thank her for the opportunity she had given me.

Action breeds more clarity than thought, so you can’t think your way into a new life, you have to act your way into one.
How do you find out what you actually want in life? You lean into what you think you want and take action toward it. That’s the best answer I can give you because here’s what I’ve learned: Action breeds more clarity than thought.

I spent the majority of my teen years thinking that what I wanted to do with my time on earth was to become a CEO of a multinational firm until I joined a corporate conglomerate and realized: That’s not what I want. A few years later, I spent the majority of my time at Google dreaming of becoming an entrepreneur and building the next big unicorn startup, until I launched my own company and realized: That’s not what I actually want.

Action breeds more clarity than thought  because, at the end of the day, you will only learn, improve, and figure it out, by doing. You’ll learn how to cook by cooking. You’ll master the art of writing by sitting down to write every day.

When you lean into your curiosity and walk the path, you will gain experience, and the answer to what you actually want will reveal itself to you as you work toward what it is you think you want.

All you need, then, is a direction to move into. All you need is the “where,” not the “how.” Once you begin to walk the path and trust the process, the answers begin to reveal themselves to you, and the way begins to appear. That’s why you can’t think your way into a new life; you have to act your way into one.

Your entire life can change in an instant. So instead of passively taking what you have for granted, be grateful for it and do whatever good you can with it.

When I was 27, I flew off a bike and blacked out on the street. In an instant, I fractured my spine and tore the main ligament in my knee. In an instant, the entire trajectory of the next year of my life changed.

Earlier this year, the third-largest explosion in human history rocked my home city of Beirut. In an instant, 200 people lost their lives and 300,000 thousand people became homeless. I could’ve easily been one of them.

We often forget that death hangs over us; it lingers in the space we cannot touch, and in the blink of an eye, in the flash of a second, it can capture us and strip us bare of the most precious blessing of all: The gift of being alive.

Your entire life can change in instant. So stop taking what you have for granted. Instead, be grateful for it, and do whatever good you can with it.

I raised an eyebrow. “How else do you want me to prove it?”

“Come over here,” she said.

I stood up and stopped. "Should I believe that we've reached an agreement on this relationship?" I asked. "Do we agree on just caresses only?"

"Oh, just come over here."

I moved over to her. She raised her hands in a gesture of me pulling her to her feet. I did, like I did some days ago. She instantly clung unto me and swooped kisses on my lips. I was expecting an action like this. I wrapped my hands round her and kissed her gently.
But she didn’t want the gentle approach.

Her kiss was hard and ravenous. Take it easy, woman, I said in my mind. She seemed hungry for intimacy. Her hand moved all over my body to handle me. I was ready to oblige her up to a point. I was also ready to reciprocate her gesture in measured response. So my right hand went under her t-shirt to handle her breasts.

They were big and handful. My fingers tried to tease the nipples in a most gentlemanly way. She moaned. I suddenly realized I was going too far, so I stopped.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Don’t you ever stop.”

Her hand went down to my crotch as she groped the area. She caressed and rubbed my groin. I slowed down the kiss, but she clung more to me. She suddenly stopped, unbuckled my belt and tried to zip down my trousers. Now, I had to act.

I held her hands tightly. “There would be no need for that,” I said.

“Why?” she demanded. “Why no need for that?”

“It’s not in accordance with what I said.”

“To hell with what you said.”

She struggled briefly with me. I held her hands tightly. “Calm down. Just calm down.”

“Why are you treating me like this? How could you leave me so high and dry?”

“Just calm down,” I repeated.

Her body suddenly shivered. “No, I’m not calming down. It’s either you give me what I want or you leave right now.”

She stopped the struggle, took her seat and closed her eyes. There was a long silence.

She opened her eyes and glared at me. “Listen, Tayo. I didn’t call you here for pranks. You either give me what I want or get the hell out of my life. That is final.”

Maybe she felt scorned, I reasoned. Perhaps, I should give her some time to calm down.

“Let’s try to be mature about this. Kissing you and caressing you should be enough for now.”

“Go!” she said angrily. “Go and leave me alone. And please, never come back.”

I left her apartment and returned to ours.

The lady who blamed bad governance for not getting a husband has got a man interested in her.

Congrats.

Pace Yourself
Often when we’re young, just beginning our adult journey we feel as though we have to do everything at once. We need to decide everything, plan out our lives, experience everything, get to the top, find true love, and do it all at the same time.

Slow down—don’t rush into things. Let your life unfold. Wait a bit to see where it takes you, and take time to weigh your options. Enjoy every bite of food, take time to look around you, let the other person finish their side of the conversation. Allow yourself time to think, to mull a bit.

Taking action is critical. Working towards your goals and making plans for the future is commendable and often very useful, but rushing full-speed ahead towards anything is a one-way ticket to burnout and a good way to miss your life as it passes you by.

Too bad.

It is unfortunate that protests always turn violent in Nigeria.

Make life better for the people.

That is the point.

Money Will Never Solve Your Real Problems
Money is a tool; a commodity that buys you necessities and some nice “wants,” but it is not the panacea to your problems.

There are a great many people who are living on very little, yet have wonderfully full and happy live and there are sadly a great many people are living on quite a lot, yet have terribly miserable lives.

Money can buy a nice home, a great car, fabulous shoes, even a bit of security and some creature comforts, but it cannot fix a broken relationship, or cure loneliness, and the “happiness” it brings is only fleeting and not the kind that really and truly matters. If you’re expecting the “stuff” you can buy to “make it better,” you will never be happy.

This is actually the most important lesson that I have learned. Call it saving the best for last... it is the one I want to leave fresh in your mind.


I honestly don't know where I would be without God in my life. I have to pray. I have to seek God's Word. I have to know that I am doing what He has laid out for me. I have to pray for others.



God is there - always; in the darkest hours and on the brightest days. He answers - always. His answers may not be what I think they should be, but He knows best. Prayer is what gets me through everything and without it, I would be lost.

I was about to turn and go.

“Wait. Let me ask you this: do you have any feeling for me at all?” she asked.

I smiled again. At that moment, I decided to give her a superlative answer.

“Of course, I do. You’re a very beautiful and attractive woman. I can see that you combine beauty and brain. Why would a man like me not have feelings for you? Why would I sit here and eat your food? Why should I do what I did for you yesterday?

"Why would I hug a woman and kiss her deeply if I didn’t have feelings for her? You’re worthy much more than me having feelings for you.”

I could see that my answer pleased her as her face lit up, but only momentarily. “And yet, you really are rejecting my offer. You’re rejecting the money and my body?”

“I’m sorry about that. I’m indeed sorry, but what I want to take is much more than money and your body. What I will like to have is your heart.”

I moved to her again, gently pulled her to her feet and gave her a bear hug. The hug was long, I supposed that was significant. I finally stopped the hug.

“You will not regret if you allow me to love you,” I said. “I mean love, not lust. Goodnight.”

She looked at me solemnly. I wondered what went on in her mind. She remained silent as I left her apartment.



I was at the Allen store the following morning as early as seven thirty. It was Thursday morning and the traffic was very light. I had discussed latest issues with T.K the previous night and he had been pleasantly surprised about the whole thing. The only thing I didn’t discuss was Lawyer Becky’s issue. Yes, deliberately, I decided that I would not dwell on her matter for now.

By nine, Ms. Morgan called me to ask if all was well at the plaza.

“No cause for alarm, madam,” I replied.

“Everything is going on smoothly over here.”

“Send me your account details. I want to send the wardrobe allowance I talked about to you.”

"Okay, madam. Thank you very much.”

I sent the account details to her and within a couple of minutes, she sent one hundred thousand naira to my account. That was very generous of her. Now, I could get myself some new wears.

I engaged myself in moving, from time to time, around the store. I was now like a supervisor. In the afternoon, I looked around for a place to get a decent meal. I decided I would go for shopping on Saturday. I would get some things such as ties and perfume from Morgan’s store, but I considered their men’s shirts and trousers quite expensive. I knew places I could get them cheaper, yet with good quality.
Linda did not come around.

When I called her to ask why, she said there would be nothing for her to do. I closed at eight p.m. I had not heard from Lawyer Becky. She was probably still thinking of what action to take. I allowed her to be.

The same routine played out at the place of work on Friday. From what Ms. Morgan said, I would be joining her in Abuja the following week. She said she would be coming back to Lagos on Friday and would be returning to Abuja on Sunday. I would be on that trip.
On Saturday morning, I went for the shopping. I also bought a leather bag with wheels that I could use to travel. Concerning the flight arrangement, Ms. Morgan said she had done everything.

The flight was supposed to be by 4.00 p.m Sunday evening. I was to join Ms. Morgan at her home off Toyin Street, Ikeja.
By three o’clock Saturday afternoon, I was back at our home from shopping. I should have been at the Allen plaza, but Ms. Morgan said I should take the day off. T.K had gone. I was left to watch some live football matches on the television.

My phone rang. It was Lawyer Becky on call.

“Are you in the house?“ she asked. “Can you come over to my flat?”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” I said.

I switched off the t.v, locked our flat and moved over to her place. The nice perfume she was wearing hit my nose as soon as she opened the door.

Today, she was wearing a denim bum shorts. It bared her thighs and legs in remarkable way. Her top was a white t-shirt with the inscription: Love me. She smiled up at me. There was no bra under the t-shirt. I could see the outlines if her nipples.

“Good afternoon,” I greeted, smiling back.

“Come in.”

I stepped inside the sitting-room. She had sprayed scents in the place – everywhere smelt nice.

“You look delectable,” I commented as I took a seat.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

She swayed her hips as she sat opposite me.

“You also look bewitching,” I added.

Her eyes looked smoky. “What does that mean?”

I chuckled. “It means you are captivating.”

There was a pause. “I don’t believe you.”

I looked surprise. “But of course, it’s true.”

She looked daring. “Why don’t you prove it if it’s really true?”

I raised an eyebrow. “How else do you want me to prove it?”

“Come over here,” she said.

Having a victim mentality will always keep you a victim.



We are supposed to learn from the things that happen in our lives and move on. I'm not saying to forget the bad things, I'm saying don't let them define who you are.



Many people are stuck in the past and cannot see what greatness and potential lies ahead. You cannot move forward if you’re constantly looking backward. Create a future based on your past experiences and use the pain to make your life meaningful...like helping others through the same type of experience.