₦airaland Forum

Happy holidays, people. I posted this last one so you can use my hold body today.

Don't forget that my books are still sēlling on online bookish platforms and physical stores.

Akwaugo
Many Waters
God Michael and Me
Amongst a Thousand Stars (only on soft copy for now, unless you are buying from Amazon)
Paradise (print copies finished in bookstores, but I will restock soon.)

My major bookstore is Bookpeddlers Lagos. E-books platform: Sêlár, Bàmbōōks and Àmazōn.

Abeg, make una buy my books o

Chai love fever don catch Ifenkili. Make bro oghene no enter one chance for Samira hand o. God bless you aunty Rosy. Thank you for the wonderful update

Rosemary33 now that you have successfully made me addicted... Pls don't stop

Thank you for this wonderful update ma'am.

Thirteen
Oghene

“Imo state and Yoruba men walked so that Anambra men could fly,” Sarima had said as she strolled into the kitchen where I was arranging small walensh wey She go chop.

I wasn’t supposed to be cooking for her since we agreed she would leave first thing this morning. Not because of what nearly happened last night, but because allowing her to stay any minute longer was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. Last night was already a mistake I would not be making again in a very, very long time. After all, lean on me no mean make you press my die.

Turning the chopped onions over on a plate, I picked four balls of pepper and began to chop those too, Ignoring her completely.

“The only reason we don’t read much about Anambra men’s slander on social media is because they leave their victims tongue-tied. Void of tears.” she continued, leaning on the fridge by the door, her eyes still swollen from last night’s drama. “Their victims are always happy they made it out alive.”

I didn’t want to hear it. This Okpata wey she dey yan, I no wan hear am. So, I concentrated on the task of making breakfast, setting aside the pepper to add oil in the heated pan on top of my electric cooker, and then I went back to the kitchen counter to crack three eggs and beat them.

I only turned when I sensed her move.

“Bro, Oghene...I’m sorry.”

I stared at her for a while, shook my head, and dropped the fork I was beating the egg with to turn the chopped vegetables into the oil before I added the salted egg mix, flipping it at intervals until I felt it was done. I placed it over the noodles I already prepared and was now on a plate, on top of the counter. I slipped a fork inside the dish and pushed it towards her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again, moving closer to the food. “Last night was—”

“Never happened,” I interrupted. “It’s better we don’t talk about it.” Or think about it. But I couldn’t help the scenes playing in my head like disturbing movie clips. I had let her into the compound because it was late. She was upset, shaken. Her ex-husband found out where she was staying and came to make trouble. She said she barely escaped him in one piece. She had placed a call to Abraham who wouldn’t take her in because of his wife. It was AB that gave her my house address and told her I might be able to help.

“Just eat and leave,” I said and walked past her, heading towards the door.

Grabbing my hand, she said, “Bro Oghene, I didn’t mean all those things I did last night. I was...I wasn’t thinking. You...I was lonely and... It’s been a long time. I didn’t know what came over me. I only wanted you to...to hold me. But seeing you lying on the floor…you were hard and ..and it was so tempting. I wanted to have sex again.”

To have sex again...the way she said it, the thing she did while I was sleeping, reminded me of the way Ifenkili asked me to kiss her even after she rejected me. It reminded me again of how Eserovwe’s mama dragged me into her bathroom and did things to me even when she knew I was scared.

What was it about me that made women desire just to gbensh with me?

Abi person use Ogun swear for me for village say na only gbenshing material I go be to women? I no even sure say I sabi the thing, yet this has been a reoccurring problem—women jumping on me at every little closeness. The cultured ones asked politely.

But Sarima. Even if person tell me for dream say she go do this kain thing, I for swear for that person. But it happened. I woke up to a weight on my body. A weight, a scent, a tongue licking my face as if it wanted to scrape my skin off, and a squeeze on my penis.

I might have touched her too. I wasn’t sure now. I was dreaming. Only that it wasn’t her in the dream but Ife. It was her pleading whimper, urging me to keep touching her, that woke me up. At first, my brain couldn’t recollect who she was or how she got into my house. The only thing that registered was that I was rock hard, and a naked woman was standing a few feet away where she staggered to when I pushed her.

Jesus! Oghene bikor! I still shivered at that image.

She had begged. Not for me to forgive her and forget what happened, but for me to shine her congo—have sex with her. Just like Ife had begged for me to kiss her.
I had insisted she pick her clothes from the floor where she dumped them and cover herself up, but she approached me instead, reaching for my waist.

“See nau, ehn. Your thing is hard. Just this once, Bro Oghene.”

She dey mad? How she go dey put Bro for my name and dey still beg make I gbensh am?

“Please...it’s been long...Oghene please...”

She was literally crying, tears running down her face.

Was the story she told me about her ex-husband coming to abuse her really true? Was she even helpless or had she been planning this since that time we stumbled on each other at Oil Mill, choosing this night of all night, when Ife made me have an erection so hard it ached, a hard-on as mad as an angry dog pawing at the door, begging to be let out?

Sarima took my silence for acceptance. She became bolder, lying on my sitting-room floor, where I’d slept because I wanted her to have the room, and spreading her legs. But whatever else she might think of me, I wasn’t going to play that game with her. I’d left the house, only to return this morning with the intention of throwing her out. But here I was listening to her, pitying her.

Last night was a shock. I was angry at her, at myself, at Ife for being responsible for the hard-on that would have gotten me into trouble. But this morning, though I still didn’t want Sarima several inches close to me, I understood her.

She was lonely. But I wasn’t the man who would satisfy her craving.

“Bro Oghene—”

“Sarima I get. I no dey vex for you. Just eat up and leave.”

“But I don’t have anywhere to go to?” she lifted a helpless gaze to my face, a strand of noodle dangling from her mouth. “Let me stay here for a while, please,” she sucked in the single noodle and said.

Stay where—as how? Her head dey for her neck at all? “Sarima you can’t stay here. I am a single man. It’s not right. People would talk.”

She remained mute.

“You can return to your father’s house if you are concerned about your ex-husband coming after you again.”

Again, she didn’t respond. But she went back to her food, woofing it down like one who’d not eaten a good meal in days. “I’ll wait for you to come back from work, then I’ll go,” she said.

“No. You are leaving now."

...

****

It was mid-day when I showed up at the workshop.

Two customers had already come looking for me. One was now having his Hunda Accord 2020 serviced by Agu, the other—oga Marcus—was waiting with the old model, Nigerian used Nissan Altima I warned him not to buy.

From the look on his face, I knew that the motor don begin show insef. I no fit laugh abeg. My problem with the motor wasn’t the brand, but it was old model and also Nigerian used. I have been in this job long enough to know that immediately one got a Nigerian used Altima, Satan would leave them alone and focus on other people because him know say e don finish for both the moto and the buyer.

“Warri boy, I don dey wait for you since.” The man said, eating what remaining on the cob of corn in his hand and throwing the stick away. “I no know watin dey do this motor.”

Why you go know? When you were too greedy to listen to reasoning. The man saw the gwura-gwura by the roadside. With 400,000 as the asking price. My man thought it was a good deal. He didn’t know that the motor would be coming with a little Orpkorpise—evil spirit.

“Watin dey do am?” I asked, stifling laughter.
“My brother the thing tire me. Nothing dey work for this motor. I wan sell am.”

S-sell watin?

“Use am do give away,” Shukudi said while walking past. Laughter erupted around me, forcing the one I had been stifling to burst out.

“Ehe nau,” Shukudi continue, facing the man. “Oga, your conscience go gree you sell this thing to person after watin your eyes don see?”

Three hours later, after I dismissed oga Marcus with a promise that I would pieces the car and sell the parts, and we were having our lunch at the Elekahia Bole Joint—bills on me, I told Shukudi and Agu about my last night’s ordeal. Not the one with Ife—I didn’t think I was strong enough to discuss Ife’s rejection with anyone—but Sarima.

“You get luck say she no tie you rope in the name of BDSM. Ask Agu, he will tell you how one babe he met online brought a rope meant for tying dragon to his place. Before you know it, our guy was tied up like ram...”

“Hei, Chukwudi! Were you there? No be me tell you the story?” Agu defended with laughter.

“The babe tie you up abi she no tie you up? You beg am before she leave you abi you no beg am?”

At this point, the three of us were laughing so uncontrollably, drawing the attention of some other people having their meals.

“My brother...” Agu took over the story telling. “The more I begged her, the more she wanted me to beg. this babe thought I was in the mood when I was fighting for my life...”

It wasn’t just us laughing now, but almost all everyone within earshot.

“For the first time I didn’t get hard with a naked woman in my front because I was genuinely scared. I couldn’t even focus and try to go with the flow. After almost 30 minutes of begging and pleading. She figured I wasn’t actually in the mood and released me. My brother, I had to dismiss her immediately. I no go ever try that thing again.”

Another bout of laughter erupted in the joint as Agu concluded his story.

“BDSM is really for the rich in Nigeria,” a man eating only yam and barbecue fish at the table next to theirs said amidst laughter, slapping his chest while making a poor effort to sober up. “Can’t be sitting through Waterlines traffic inside bus and coming back to Chinenye flogging me because e de turn am on. Suffer no dey tire me?”

That thing is sweet in abroad o,” Another man chipped in. “There are opportunities to achieve your dreams after getting tied up and beaten. Not here in Nigeria where person no get job, nobody dey send me money, my bank don collect the remaining 60-naira way dey my account. I'm just getting home since morning and you're giving me koboko to whip you? If I remember how conductor kawa with my 100 naira change and made me trek home from the bus stop, I go flog you like wotowoto.”

“I still don’t understand the idea behind BDSM,” I said after a while, when all the laughter had died down and everyone had returned to eating. “Like I should lie down then someone will tie me up and start flogging me like goat.”

“When it’s not that stole something at MTN Artillery, part of my destiny is not to suffer and be beaten like a goat, and I was not caught shagging another man's wife.” Shukudi muttered, washing his hands. “Imagine trying to explore BDSM with your new partner, as a woman, and as they tie your hands and put blindfold on you, the next thing you hear is “how we go move am go Baba place?”

A few people responded with laughter now, others simply chuckled.

“Or after the guy tied the babe up, there will now be a fire outbreak. Won't the guy forget that he has some one’s daughter tied up and run for his life?” Shukudi added. “God will not let us jam agbako o.”

The day went by at a snail’s speed. Thankfully, I didn’t think about Ifenkili so much. Work kept me so busy. That and the joy that came with the knowledge that I’d finished making the payment for the space I wanted for my Workshop. I was now a landlord. Shukudi and my other guys were not yet aware. I would tell them by weekend when my reverend must have dedicated the place.

It was when I came back to the house, relaxing with a plate of rice and stew that the thought of Ifenkili crossed my mind again, bring with it images of her face, her body—though clothed, was the most beautiful thing. Thinking about it, the shape of her suddenly got me tensed, tightening my spine and nape.

The ringing of my phone didn’t allow that feeling to saturate me properly, Thank God.
I checked the caller ID and picked up immediately. It was my Reverend. He wasn’t calling to remind me of our appointment.

“I’d like to see you tomorrow in my office,” he said.

“I know sir. We will be going to the—”

“It’s not about that, Oghene. Sister Sarima—you know sister Sarima nau? The one that got Married some time ago and left with her husband…yes. She is in my house now… with my wife...”

My heart skipped a million bits and then sank into my stomach. I wasn’t sure what this was about, but I feared it wasn’t going t be good.

“She is accusing you of something very serious. It’s not what we can discuss on phone.”

Ahhh, every Jezebels send to Bro Oghene to make him amiss his promise land (Ifekenli ) die by 🔥 🔥,

ah say die by 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

Keep up the good work... Sarima of Life!

just two words from me:FEAR WOMEN!!!thanks for the update ma

Ha, Samira wants to put Bro oghene Nwa chineke in problem. Why she come dey behave like karishika na. Thank you auntie Rosy. We dey enjoy the Tori. Keep it coming

Please come and give us update

Rosemary33, please, let's end the fast; our prayers have been answered. Can I hear an Amen of agreement? ...

Ohibenemma:
Rosemary33, please, let's end the fast; our prayers have been answered. Can I hear an Amen of agreement? ...

🤣🤣 Forgive me for the long wait. I was editing a manuscript I'll be publishing by August. A romantic psychological thriller.

I will drop the next episode of Oghene and Ifenkili story later today, please.

Rosemary33:
🤣🤣 Forgive me for the long wait. I was editing a manuscript I'll be publishing by August. A romantic psychological thriller.

I will drop the next episode of Oghene and Ifenkili story later today, please.

Wow! Such a workaholic. More oil to your elbow.

Ghost mode deactivated...... Ive been following this story from the off, I had to come out from the shadows and comment coz it's a very interesting story and I love it. Pls keep doing what you're doing coz this is some lovely work you've got. Thanks for sharing it

juninhouj:
Ghost mode deactivated...... Ive been following this story from the off, I had to come out from the shadows and comment coz it's a very interesting story and I love it. Pls keep doing what you're doing coz this is some lovely work you've got. Thanks for sharing it

thank you!

I also want to say a huge thank you to those who contacted my bookstore Bookpeddlers and pùrchased my books. I know because I always get purchase updates with names and locations.

You guys are really amazing. This is the best way to support an author and I am grateful.

I can't wait to read your reviews on any platform. God bless you all.

Finally. I started the next episode but couldn't finish it. You know this is a fresh story never written or published anywhere before. I always give una stories from the head. Each episode is written afresh every new day.

So, know that I don't have this story already written anywhere, I am not copying and pasting.

I will complete and post the next episode today.

If I have more time, I can an a bonus episode 😁

💃💃💃💃💃

We are expecting oo 🥰🥰🥰 please that bonus is very important 🙏🙏🙏🙏💃💃💃💃💃💃💃

That Jara on top dey always sweet😁😁😁

Rosemary33:
Finally. I started the next episode but couldn't finish it. You know this is a fresh story never written or published anywhere before. I always give una stories from the head. Each episode is written afresh every new day.

So, know that I don't have this story already written anywhere, I am not copying and pasting.

I will complete and post the next episode today.

If I have more time, I can an a bonus episode 😁

waiting and salivating

Should we still still expect any update today... Coz I don refresh tire

Fourteen
Ife

If my mother's dream was anything to go by, I would be having my traditional wedding in December. Okay, let me give you the gist. I had woken up to the sound of my brother banging on my door. My mother had been trying to reach me, and when I wasn’t picking up my phone, she called my brother who, luckily for her, was still in my house.

At first, I thought that something bad had happened to her, my father, or any of my siblings and relatives. I was relieved to learn that it was none of that. The reason for the urgent call was because of a dream she had the previous night.

In the dream, I was getting married to a very rich man during the festive season. She said it was a confirmation of an answered prayer. Apparently, my mother had visited a prophet who instructed her to start getting ready; my marriage was assured, and it would be at the end of the year.

The prophecy came with terms and conditions though: block all calls from all unknown numbers because her enemies would want to use my voice as a point of contact at their coven. I had asked my mother what concerned her enemies with my number, and why there must be a contention between heaven and hell before someone’s son would take me seriously.
Anyway, the future looked promising already. For the first time in my adult life, I got breakfast, lunch, and a money bouquet today, courtesy of Preye. Truly, miracles no de tire Jesus.

Parking my car in front of a provision store, I crossed to the other side so I could get to Aleruchi’s shop. An unruly and uncouth biker brushed me with the metal body of his bike as he slowed to let a passenger alight.

I lifted my hand in his direction and spread my fingers. “Waka!” I spat angrily.

“Big nyash, getat… Comot for road,” he shouted back.
I was about to return the energy when his comeback settled on me. He had called me ‘big nyash.’ Me, big nyash! “You dey craze,” I muttered with a smile. The man was confused at first, then he smiled back.

“Fine geh,” he said and drove off.

I stepped into Aleruchi’s place with that smile on my face, ignoring her and her customers to go check myself in her full-length mirror. Actually, I checked my backside. I had never thought of myself as a big nyash owner. I never imagined that my backside had enough personality to make a statement. But I was aware the babe was just there, not lacking, not doing too much either. Just chilling. But if an angry man said it was big, then I was compelled to believe him. The man could have called me anything, anything at all... but he chose ‘big nyash.’ That meant he knew what he saw.

“Babe na watin—why you dey look your small bom-bom?” Aleruchi asked.

“Ale, please, allow me to have this moment.”

“Ha, small yansh dey shake,” she retorted and burst out laughing.

“You say?” Taking a balanced stance, legs slightly widened, I bounced so my behind could clap. It did. Ah, who would have thought...I never knew, I’d never tried it before. “See—Ale, can your bom-bom ever! Don’t annoy me now o.”

“Ife, e don do. Your nyash big, I agree,” she hissed. “Something that will not matter in heaven.”

Everyone in the salon laughed.

“Ehen. Make I enjoy am here on earth. Hater.”

After a while, when she was done with the cornrow she was making for a customer, we settled down to talk.

“So, are you going to marry him?” Ale asked with excitement. I had been gisting her about my relationship with Preye, my fears, my concerns. About last night, how he stood me up, though I was able to have fun regardless. Today, while at work, I had kept her updated with the turn of events: the food and the money bouquet. I even made a short clip inside the toilet with the bouquet and sent it to her.

She had awwed.

I had squirmed.

But this question about saying yes to Preye if he eventually popped the question, why did I have to hesitate before giving a response? I knew what response to give, but it would amplify this feeling of uneasiness gnawing inside me since last night, since I left Oghene.

Hey, Oghene. I had planned to call him today, if possible, I had wanted to go in search of his house this evening after work. There was so much I needed to know, feelings I needed to explore, questions that I wanted answers to: like why was I awake half of the night thinking about the kiss he denied me, and my stomach tensing so hard it hurt? Why was I panting softly as the sensations of my longing for him consumed me? Why did I have my eyes shut tight, and in my mind, I felt myself grinding against what felt like the palm of his hand or maybe his wrist, loving the friction it created over and over again? Why did I have to squeeze my thighs, whimpering words that didn’t make sense while imagining him gently kissing my skin, licking it soothingly, murmuring his praise, apologies, filthy words against my damp flesh?

“Madam,” Ale slapped my shoulder. “Where you keep your mind?”

“Oh, sorry,” I hissed. “My mind was somewhere else.”
...

...“Where your mind dey. Abeg, anything you are thinking that is not about how to accept this good man’s ring when he offers, so we can start planning your wedding immediately, I reject it for you in Jesus' name.”

I laughed. One of the beautiful things about my friendship with the crazy Aleruchi, who sucked as much as I did in picking men, was that we had a way of making light of each other’s situations. Here I was, struggling with my newfound feelings for one man I never knew I could give a second look when I should have been full of glee because of this crazy attention I’d been getting from Preye since morning, and Aleruchi was dismissing my confusion with humor.

But I had another fear. The whole back-to-back act of care from Preye seemed odd. I didn’t know why it smelled of all the love-bombing Chizi carried out on me summed up in less than a day. While my female colleagues were literally envious of me today because of this special care and I felt so special and loved after a very long time, I still had this fear.

You know, the last time I was treated this way, I soaked it up. Like, “Yes, I’m the most amazing woman ever. Yes, I do deserve the world even though I’d known Chizi for less than a month.”

Then I found out the truth and I was left stunned. My boosted self-esteem was strongly affected. Now, it was happening again. Even though I felt that Preye was different, serious, and straight to the point with me, unlike Chizi. I couldn’t shake off this discomfort that made my heart skip each time I thought about how fast I was going with Preye.

Maybe it was the bro Oghene’s effect and nothing else. It must have been because until last night, I was feeling so excited about Preye, but now I was struggling to keep the excitement on. No be juju be this?

“Madam, what is it?” Ale asked, shifting closer.

“What is what?”

“Why are you suddenly cold?”

“Cold... how?”

“I expected that you’d come here to invite me to paint the town red with you. Girl, your new man sent you a money bouquet. Real money, not fake. How much is it sef?”

“A total of 450k.”

“What?” Ale screamed. She grabbed my hand, and I felt her excitement from her firm grip. “Girl, this one loud o.”

“See doings na,” one of the ladies in the salon muttered. “Na this kain man I dey find. Men that don’t get scared of spending money on their women.”

“My sister,” Ale concurred. “Men that can match you aura for aura. Maintenance fee 500k.”

“Dey play,” the first lady said dreamily. “This kain man can pay even a million for maintenance.”

The talk went on and on. Like the ladies in my office, these ones felt I was lucky. They wished they were in my shoes, advising me not to lose Preye because he was the dream prize for every woman. Soon, I began to see through their eyes and understood why I must be happy. I loved the soft life, and Preye had shown he could give me that and more. It was when I was finally alone with Ale that I casually mentioned Oghene.

As I spoke about him, I felt this sense of loss, of emptiness, and need for a soul to cling to. A body to keep me warm. To rest and trust; to pour myself into. Like magic, I felt him so close even though he was not. It was like a pull in the pit of my stomach, like hunger but deeper, heavier. Like the saddest kind of expectation.

“What type of job does he do?” my friend asked. “Does he have a car... a house he built by himself? Is he a spender... you know, can he take care of a woman?”

I told her he wasn’t rich but comfortable. He might not have been a spontaneous spender, but he took me to the club and gave me a good time. I told her that he was a nice Jesus guy who would give any woman peace. But Aleruchi turned her nose up in disgust. She didn’t like that I would think of considering an average man for a relationship or marriage.

“Peace doesn’t put food on the table. No woman makes it in life by dating a nice guy who can’t spend lavishly on her.” She called him an impoverished and broke dude.

“No disrespect to anyone,” she said, “but I don’t think you were raised to have a man and still be struggling. Assuming this Oghene asked you to marry him, and you agreed, girlfriend, you’ll continue to struggle. It’s supposed to become easier, not harder, as you progress in life. Suffer no dey tire you?”

I hated it that she would talk about him like that. But sadly, I agreed with her. I’d known struggle all my life as if there was a generational curse upon my head. From hawking stuff along the road to raising money for something as small as exam fees to taking up menial jobs to support myself in the university. I also started drop shipping and kids’ extra moral classes during my NYSC. Now, I had a decent-paying job, but it was never enough as family bills seemed to be choking the living daylight out of me. I should have changed my car—an ancient Kia Picanto given to me by one of our unmarried sisters in church who had relocated to Berlin—but I didn’t seem to always have money to do anything extra for myself. I only had enough to look decently good and live one day at a time.

Seriously, I envied people who had no responsibilities to take care of, no battles to fight, and no generational curses to break. Their homes did not need rebuilding. They just grew up to have everything easy... going to school, getting jobs, inheriting wealth and connections from their parents, and living their best lives. Why wasn’t I one of those people? God, I needed a break. Preye seemed like that break.

I liked him. He was such a cool guy, even with his annoying egocentrism and arrogance. But did I love him enough?

Ale said love alone wouldn’t cook a pot of soup or buy a soft mattress. Besides, since in just a few weeks, he seemed to have checked all my financial boxes, and I’d developed a sort of likeness for him, love would blossom with time.

But Oghene... such an ordinary warmth I allowed myself to take in like air. Such a sweet man. That night he sent me away, I’d wanted to hear him running after me. Then the sound of my door, which would not be locked, being pushed open as he'd step into my apartment. I had imagined him slipping his arms around me, drawing me close, covering my mouth with his without asking, making me want him more than I thought I could ever want another living soul, gently, softly, and with kindness.

A part of me regretted why I was only realizing my feelings for Oghene now. Another part mocked me for being ridiculous. In life, a lady must be intentional when choosing a man, and if I was being realistic with myself, Oghene didn’t seem to be the guy who would give me financial security and comfort.

I wasn’t a gold digger, trust me. But even the Bible spoke about resting from struggles, ‘There remaineth a rest...” it said. So, I needed rest from my struggling.

Yet, Oghene... he was everywhere in my head like an unsettling soulful song, following me everywhere, sleeping and waking up with me. While I tried to concentrate on my day’s tasks, while I chatted with colleagues, while I received Preye’s lavish gifts, ate the food and pastries, counted the money, and celebrated with colleagues, I caught the briefest impression of him: an average tall man possessing a broad form packed tightly with the kind of muscle hard-won through years of hard and strenuous work. Then there was sadness on his face each time I imagined him. It was the same look he had when I refused his offer. Maybe I should give him a call when I got home. We would talk about last night and why we would never be anything other than two delulu adults desiring each other. I would confess to him that I might have fallen in love with him, but love doesn’t buy Prada.

I waited for Ale to close for the day. Then we headed for her place where she changed into something more suitable for a night out and followed me to my house. I’d wanted to change out of my work clothes too. But I wasn’t ready for the surprise waiting for me at home.
None of us were.

Parked in a very conspicuous space in my compound was a brand-new C-Class Sedan Mercedes-Benz decorated with ribbons and balloons. My first thought was that Benson, my neighbor, had gotten his wife a love gift. That man too dey do too much. He was always rubbing how much he adored his wife of seven years to our faces and would grab every little chance to buy her things. The last one was a Toyota Highlander on Salah day! They weren’t even Muslims. I would never forget the day I joined them at the cinema to go watch A Tribe Called Judah. I had already planned to go but then heard them talking about it while walking to their car, so I decided to save my fuel and join them. Eziokwum, that was the day singlehood pointed a gun at my face. These lovebirds almost killed me with public displays of affection. They couldn’t keep their hands away from each other even for a minute.

“Who dem wan propose to for your compound?” Aleruchi asked, admiring the car.

“I know?” I grabbed my friend’s hand and dragged her along towards my flat, while I mentally shuffled through the single guys in my compound who could afford such a ride for an intended wife. Or a lady whose man could afford to gift her this kind of car.

My door flung open before I could slot my key. My brother stood in front of me, wearing the widest grin I’d ever seen on his face. I stared at him with suspicion. Why was he still around? And what was responsible for that smile on his face? Had he won a big bet?

“Sister!” he cooed, pulling me into a very tight hug that I struggled to breathe. “You don hammer!” He lifted me off the floor. I had to kick and punch his shoulders for him to put me down.

“What is this about?” I asked. “What have you done that you are trying to cover up—kedu ihe imebiri?” I looked at Aleruchi to confirm that she was suspicious too. She was also grinning. I knew that grin. She always wore it on her face when she had connived with someone to either surprise or undo me.

Ale glanced at her phone that had just beeped, nodded, and raised her head. “Babe, follow me,” she turned back.

“Follow you to where?”

“Sister, follow her nau. No dey do strong head.”

Before I objected, Aleruchi grabbed my hand and we headed towards the parked car. There were more than a dozen people gathered now—my neighbors, smiling as if they were in on a prank. I was sure someone had planned this and had gotten every one of these people involved. How much did the person pay them?

I stopped walking. “Babe... Aleruchi...” I tried to free my hand from her grip.

“Ife, I no dey carry you go do yahoo-yahoo,” she said, holding firm. “Trust your babe!”

The grin on everyone’s face grew wider and wider as
we neared the car. Aleruchi made us walk to the other side of it and... I froze. Down on his knees, with an opened box containing a ring and a car key in his hand, was Preye.

“Ife, marry me.”

Who dey? Make I run before them catch me

Rosemary33:
Who dey? Make I run before them catch me

Run go where, you suppose hold us 2 updates 😁😁

Marry Who, 🔥 🔥 🔥 burn that yeye proposal to Ashes Amen 😥😖😞
Bia Hanty Rosemary33, I no like this update oooo, Oya talk say na dream

do4luv14:
Marry Who, 🔥 🔥 🔥 burn that yeye proposal to Ashes Amen 😥😖😞

Bia Hanty Rosemary33, I no like this update oooo, Oya talk say na dream

Na wao. Na Oghene update l dey wait for

Abeg make Ifenkili receive sense for this life. Which kain willi willi proposal be this

Nwiboko26:
Abeg make Ifenkili receive sense for this life. Which kain willi willi proposal be this

My Broda the devil issa liar ooo, Ife must reject that proposal ooo