₦airaland Forum

D A M N!!!!!!!

Ihedinobi: D A M N!!!!!!!

What are you damning, good sir?

Loving your story Ishi. Pls continue...

(This woman get talent, nor be small thing eh!)

Ishilove: What are you damning, good sir?

You sure can tell a story, Miss Pretty

Thank you Mena, Ihedinobi, I am humbled

semid4lyfe: Interesting as usual but with a few errors this time

Op should go over it and correct the errors

Done. Thank you semid

Another date, another politician. I wondered what surprises awaited me.

O there were surprises alright. BIG surprises.

I cooked palmoil jollof rice with smoked fish that day. The rice turned out wonderfully well and I wished my dear mother was close by so that she could taste this culinary triumph. I have often been teased that I am a horrid cook, but I know that it is just 'bad belle' worrying all my haters . My friend in Akungba came over one day and I served her jollof spaghetti cooked with sardines. After just a few spoons, she pushed the plate aside and declared my spag one of the worst spag concoctions she had ever tasted in her entire life. After this scathing verdict, I was forced to swallow my pride and go to Mummy Nurse's shop to buy her Mirinda, bread and groundnuts. Deep down in my heart I know she bears a grudge against me that's why she condemned my fine cooking. Hmph!

Anyway, I ate my delicious rice sparingly so that my tummy wouldn't shoot out too much. I have a flat tummy but fufu was doing some serious 'strong tinz' to the shape. Ridges and contours were appearing where there was hitherto firm flesh. I intended wearing my sexy jean trousers again and since the waist band was tight, it was going to push all the extra flesh UP towards my bosom area. Since that could not be avoided no thanks to fufu, the least I could do was to minimise my food intake so as to minimise the bulge. Portion control, Ishi, portion control.

I ate, washed up and took my bath. Bath time was severe torture because of the sand flies. My 'bathroom' was located outside my mud hut, and I shared it with several bachelor neighbours and Egi Momoh. It was an open shed built with raffia palms and had no door. When you wanted to bath, you simply hung your towel or wrapper at the entrance and that was it. God help you a particularly strong gust of wind blew away your 'door'. You are on own.

The sandflies ministered to every area of my anatomy, save for that area where the sun NEVER shone on. And I am not talking about the bosom,tummy or butt for that matter. Yes that's right, THAT area. By the time I fled into my room, everywhere itched and smarted. I usually take my time when bathing,scrubbing all the 'scrubbables' and washing all 'washables'. However this time, I was in and out of the bathroom in less than five- a record that can be attested to by those familiar with my personal hygiene routine. In my haste to flee, when I was almost at my doorstep I slipped on a wet patch of mud and went sprawling sideways, hip first to the ground like a kid learning how to walk. 'Kid', as in baby goat. . .

How I managed not to break my bucket still mystifies me till this day. Buzz Lightyear in 'Toy Story' will call it "falling. . .with style".

I managed to gather myself together and rose painfully. An idea formed in my head even while I was still in the process of rising. When I was on my feet, I looked left, looked right, limped to Boda Akeem's (my bachelor neighbour) door and after another cautious glance around, I, faster than than the speed of sound, transferred the water in his big bucket into mine. This done, I painfully strolled back to the bathroom where I endured another tortuous five minutes.

Back in my room, I discarded my soiled wrapper and stared at my itching and smarting body. I wondered if it was a premonition. Bah, it can't be, I thought and perished the thought.

I creamed and powdered my skin and wore the attire I had chosen for my date. My 'segzy' jeans, a spotted brown cotton shirt, dangling gold hoops on my ears ( well, they weren't real gold. They were of the variety the Yorubas call 'kpanda' ) and my trusty block heeled sandals.

Ahhhh, now time for make up. Wow, this make up session ought to be interesting. I started with my eyelids, moved to my eyelashes and nearly stabbed my eyes out with the mascara brush. That done, I moved to my eyebrows. Drat, my eyebrows needed trimming. They were so bushy I could plait 'kpatewo and base' with them, or even 'Bob Marley' sef. How could I have let them grow so thick?? Mschewww . Well whatever, I could try make them look like T.Y Bello's, and try I did. Whether I succeeded or not is a matter for heated debate.

I moved to my lips and did 'a few things' with them. When I was finished, I powdered my face again. I set down the hand mirror on the floor where I sat, took a deep breath and picked it up again to examine my 'artwork'.

Hmmmm. . . Let me see now. . . The eyelids are a shade too wine. . . Wine goes with brown, right? I was wearing a brown shirt so I figured wine coloured eye shadow would match. Just tone it down a bit. . .ah, yes!

The eyelashes are a-okay! I have rather pretty lashes if I may say so myself.

I took one look at 'The Great Forest of Idumagbo' that were my eyebrows and quickly looked away. No remedying THAT .
I briefly wondered if I looked a teeny little bit like Chairman. . .

Chairman!! I had completely forgotten about him! . I wondered if he was still waiting where I left him. I felt a tiny pang of guilt for deceiving the old man and abandoning him by the road side, because the Good Book after all exhorts us to respect our elders. I however squashed the guilt because how can one respect an elder who wouldn't respect himself?

I dismissed my aged admirer from my thoughts and focused on other important matters, like my face. My eyes moved to my lips and . . .

Good heavens my lips looked overly meaty!!!! No, this will not do! I wiped off the goo on my lips and applied plain lip gloss.

Ah, that's more like it.

I laid aside the mirror and picked up Mein Kpalasa to check the time. It was a few minutes to 2.pm. Still time for one more adjustment. I got up from the bed where I had sat to apply my make up and noticed my bosoms were misaligned. One boob faced north, the other faced east.

Blast this 'omo na bouncing bra'!! . I unhooked the bra and was in the process of re-stuffing my corpulent bosoms into the bra when my phone rang.

Cradling my bosoms in one hand, I picked up the phone from the floor where it lay face down.

My date was calling.

I have to stop now folks, battery needs charging. Will update asap.

Hmmm. . . Only 2 days and i don de miss NL like this. Ishi seriously its high time you check inside that pipeline for that novel na. Wetin you think?

Yeah! Thaz how iz done. Holdin my breath for the next.

Am sooooo loving this..Got me laughing all thru.well done Ishilove, you are soo talented..keep up the good work and plsss keep the updates coming

Ishilove, i'll describe your work in one word "awesome". Your really a great writer. I'm glued to this thread.

brokoto: Hmmm. . . Only 2 days and i don de miss NL like this. Ishi seriously its high time you check inside that pipeline for that novel na. Wetin you think?

I think that afraid is cashing me...daz wat I fink. I am not yet matured enuf to write a full novel, but the day go cam one day one day

fredoooooo:

[quote author=j-slimz]Ishilove, i'll describe your work in one word "awesome". Your really a great writer. I'm glued to this thread.[/quote]

naijababe: Singing Ishi baby, sugar sugar

[quote author='yindamola]Am sooooo loving this..Got me laughing all thru.well done Ishilove, you are soo talented..keep up the good work and plsss keep the updates coming[/quote]

Ihedinobi: Yeah! Thaz how iz done. Holdin my breath for the next.

Wow, all these accolades for lil 'ol me?? I blusheth a bright crimson hue .

I am really humbled, friends, thank you so much. I wish I were better, but it takes time and constant practice. I will update asap, pls bear with me

I waited for a beat before picking the call. One musn't appear overeager. 'Tis so unladylike.

"Hello my baby, how are you?", boomed the cheerful voice of my date. I winced and put the phone a little distance away from my ear. Why on earth was this man always so cheerful?

"Hi . . .(his name), I'm fine o" I replied.

"I hope you are ready because I'm almost at that your village," he announced jovially.

"Urr. . .ya, I'm ready", I returned. Even as I spoke, my free hand was trying to stuff one of my breasts into the drooping bra in vain.

"Okay dear, see you soon", he said and rang off.

I immediately dropped the phone on the bed and continued adjusting and readjusting. When it seemed the bra wouldn't coperate, I hissed with disgust, unhooked the bra and threw it into the dark recesses of my room.

Drat, what do I wear now? No time to waste, my date was almost around the corner and I musn't keep Sir Teeth waiting. It seemed I would have to settle for my 'koste' bra, so called because it turned the booobs of the wearer to veritable weapons. You could wear the bra to jog from Lagos to Timbuqtoo, no shaking.

And I mean that literally.

They were the complete opposite of 'omo na bouncing', but I however didn't like wearing it often because if you are as well endowed as I am, the last thing you need to be wearing is a 'koste' bra because it simply MAGNETISED the eyes of the male and female folk alike to your chest. In this case of my upcoming date in particular, 'koste' was the 'wrongest' undergarment to wear. Honourable was most likely going misconstrue my intentions.

How very right I was . . .

I brought out the bra from its sanctuary and put it on. Behold, my double D cup bosoms were jutted agressively, proud and fierce in their majestic splendour. They pointed a perfect 180 degrees; so sharp they were. I jiggled them a bit. Yep, no shaking. Literally speaking, of course.

I sighed in defeat. Well, at least these were better than 'omo na bouncing' which usually allowed one's booo.bs jiggle and bounce like they were a separate entity from the rest of you. I knew this was small consolation but what was I to do? I had been putting off buying a new set of undergarments for quite a while now and this was the price of my procrastination. In the absence of the desirable, the available becomes desirable. These would have to do.

I put on my shirt, mopped my sweaty brows and powdered my face for the third time. I had broken out in a light sweat without noticing it. I was just buckling my sandals when my phone rang again. Good, right on time. I picked the call and informed him that I was already on my way. I quickly spritzed on my favourite potent cocktail of perfumes, stuffed my NYSC cap into my handbag, jammed my bent glasses on my nose and departed the room.

While hurrying out, I tried to ignore the fact that my jutting breassts preceded my exit from the room. No point dwelling on things one can't change because I, after all, am fearfully and wonderfully made .

Anyone seeing the attractive Aunty Corper hurrying on her private business would never have guessed she had carried out water theft that afternoon and that she was about embarking on a journey of 'iranu' (mischief).

I got to where my date parked his vehicle and eagerly opened the door. To my utmost chagrin, the person who sat behind the steering wheel was not Honourable, but Mr P.A McGrouch.

My eager smile wobbled and flatlined.

Just as I was about to inquire what the hell he was doing here in Wasimi, the deep voice of Honourable boomed out from the back seat.

"Ajuwaya!!".

I was immediately relieved. I shut the door while PA glared on and hurried to the back seat to join my date/tour guide.

"My baby is looking very sweet," Honourable said in open admiration. I demurely accepted the compliment, all the while making sure my eyes didn't stray to his teeth.

P.A set the car in motion and drove off to AK citeeeey!!! .

The memories of the tour are hazy, but I do remember having so much fun. He took me to different places, most notably the State House of Assembly, the airport, the governor's residence and a particular GRA in Akure. I remember seeing the worship center (??) of the Grail Movement and marvelling at the big, black and white painted gate. The gate was so big, one couldn't see a single thing happening behind the iron barrier.

The tour was much more interesting than the one I embarked on with Chairman. Honourable was a lively and charming companion who made sure there was no dull moment.

Throughout the tour, I noticed Honouable's eyes more often than not lingering on my chest, but I ignored the warning signs.

When the tour was over, we headed to a quiet little hotel tucked away in the interior parts of the GRA. The hotel was spotlessly clean and the ambience, cool and relaxing. We left Mr P.A to man the car while we go into the hotel to ''relax'', to use Honourable's words. Surprisingly, we didn't go through the whole double oh seven routine we had gone through in our previous dates.

I guessed he was a regular when he headed to the reception where without questions, he was handed the key to 'Room 21'. He motioned me to follow him, and together, we headed for Room 21...

Ooooooohhhhhhh!!! naughty, naughty, naughty girl!!

Oya, continue sharp-sharp

^^^^wahala!!!

[quote author=Efemena_xy]Ooooooohhhhhhh!!! naughty, naughty, naughty girl!!

Oya, continue sharp-sharp [/quote]Madam no vex, Daughter of Man wan sleep.

Ishi, so you oppressed the poor honourable with your boobs eh! I am intrigued, curious to know how you wangled a safe exit outta this one.

naijababe: Ishi, so you oppressed the poor honourable with your boobs eh! I am intrigued, curious to know how you wangled a safe exit outta this one.

Relax babe, we shall know in due time

*rubs palms wickedly and connivingly*

ishilove must not escape this one
at least honorable must touch something
it's not every time she go dey do double 0, 7

esere826: *rubs palms wickedly and connivingly*

ishilove must not escape this one
at least honorable must touch something
it's not every time she go dey do double 0, 7

Abi o

Na lie o! Ishi we shall not be kept waiting this time.
*stands sentry at ROOM 21* na here i go de till you come out come finish ya story.no waste time o, if not i go begin peep through the keyhole. . .:p

Ishi,I have been following this thread from the outset. Your talent is rare. I see another generation of Soyinka's and Achebe's rising, and you, Ishi, will be one of them. Keep it up girl, the sky is your limit .
Much love,Pretty Woman

@ishilove

A good writer should be able to take the readers into her world
The good writer sometimes use visual aids to achieve this

Sister Ishilove, abeg go and update your profile pictures.
We need to see clearly what chairman and honourable where seeing


(kai I'd better run back go my xtian religious section before dem catch me drooling here)

^^ Lol!!