Gentlemen Of The Bar - Literature (4) - Nairaland
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Raising The Bar Of Scholarship From The Left / Gentlemen's Club. Sex Series. / Story: Another Morning At The Bar (2) (3) (4)
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| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 12:30pm On Nov 19, 2014 |
ANGELA We sit in civilized silence by the swimming pool and review Hussaina’s case. Naden is saying something about bringing in new evidence at the next court sitting, but I am not listening. I am thinking about our dinner three nights ago. I am disturbed by the fact that my memory of events after the dinner is submerged in a hazy fog. What happened after I left the table for bed? I look at Naden as he leans to write something in his journal. Should I ask him? He looks up to find me looking at me and lifts his left brow in question. “Do you have anything to say?” I lean back in my chair and nod. “Yes.” “What?” “I am thinking about the dinner, the one you ordered days back.” Abandoning his pen and relaxing backwards in his chair, Naden watches me coolly. His expression says very little. It is hard to guess what he is thinking. “Okay, what about it?” “Was I drunk?” Naden is silent for a while. I frown at him. “Yes or no?” Exhaling and returning back to his upright position, he gathers the papers on the table together. “Let’s go back to the room. I need to talk to you about that night.” My thoughts uncoordinated and scattered, I pack my things and walk in the shadow of his slow assured steps. As soon as we enter the room, I organize my thoughts and face him. “Okay, I am listening.” ******************** NADEN I can tell she is nervous, but even that knowledge is not enough to assuage my apprehension. A part of me is tempted to hide the truth, to sugar coat the reality of what transpired that night or present a more digestible version of the conversation that had taken place between us, but I tell myself she has a right to know. “You got drunk.” Her eyes widen and then narrow. “I got drunk?” I nod. “Yes.” Her lips thinning, she crosses her arm against her chest. “I remember now," she says, nodding slowly. "You kept pouring wine into my glass.” She cocks her head, a disdainful smile playing on her lips. “I guess that was your plan, right?” I shrug. “Yes.” Moving with lightening speed, she charges towards me, but I am prepared. I catch the hand cutting through the air before it can reach its target. “Don’t,” I tell her, looking into eyes brimming over with hatred. “I have warned you before.” “You are just a….” I watch her struggle for words. “Bastard…idiot.” I shrug. “Whatever. Don’t just put your hands on me again or you will regret it.” She tugs her hand free with a violent pull. I let her go and feel a small twinge of wicked satisfaction as she staggers backwards. “Idiot,” she tosses at me again, stomping off to the table where her phone is lying with the papers we had been working on. “I am calling my father right now.” She grabs the phone and spins round to face me. “I will not work with a shady character like you.” I nod. “Good, be ready to tell him about your plan to sabotage our efforts.” She stops tapping her phone to look at me. “Sabotage what efforts?” “Well, you confessed to visiting Hussaina several times to help her. Don’t forget to tell your father that part too.” The hand clutching the phone returns to her side, and defeat enters her eyes. I begin to feel sorry for her until I see her take a step back, one hand lifting to swing something at me. I duck in time and turn to see her phone hit the wall behind me. Turning instinctively to avert the attack I know is coming, I prepare to face her, but I am not quick enough to avoid the inevitable crash as she hurls herself at me. Hard blows rain down on me from all directions. I deflect them and grab her hands. Losing what is left of my control, I jerk her forward so that our noses are only inches apart. “This is the last warning I am giving on your wild behaviour. I don’t play nice.” I expect her to shrink, to beg for release, but instead a low growl escapes her throat and she shoves her weight into me, forcing me backwards. I take control of the situation quickly and turn her around just as our legs hit the bed. We stumble into the bed, and I make sure to keep her pinned under me, her arms high above her head and imprisoned in my hand. “Let me go,” she says through gritted teeth, a feral expression on her face. “No, until you promise to stop acting like a child.” Bucking wildly under me, she struggles to free herself. I tighten my hold on her and we squirm around the bed for some minutes before she stops struggling. “Let me go,” she says again. This time her voice is unsteady. I see a slight sheen of tears in the eyes staring viciously at me. I exhale. It was time to apologize. “Sorry. I was wrong in getting you drunk, but I just needed to know what you were up to.” She closes her eyes and then opens them again. “Release my hands.” I release my hold on her wrists. She sighs and massages them one after the other. When she is done, she lowers them to the bed, her eyes traveling past my face to my chest. The expression on her face is thoughtful. I find myself wondering what she is thinking. Her eyes return to mine briefly, and then we curiously look down at the same time and notice the same thing. The buttons of her top have come completely undone and breasts moulded to perfection stand proudly in a black brassiere with lace at the edges. Her nipples are hardened and visible through the fabric of the brassiere. I remember her words from three nights ago. Maybe we should just have sex. *********************** |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Oolayeancah(f): 1:49pm On Nov 19, 2014 |
:DWow! Wow! Wow! Big ups Madam Virgo.. U've gat a very 9ice story here. Keep it up |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 1:53pm On Nov 19, 2014 |
ANGELA I am aware of him in ways that make me uncomfortable. I am irritated by the fact that I allowed him push me to the verge of tears and beyond disgusted at myself for the wild thoughts dancing wildly in my head. He has a nice body. You are Hot. I ignore my inner voice and decide to beg for my freedom. It is either that or a bad decision. The minutes were ticking dangerously. I close my eyes and open them again. “Release my hands.” He takes the pressure off my hands. I massage my wrists slowly, aware of the hardness between my legs. It feels nice, my inner voice says, panting with need. He obviously wants you just as much as you want him. Stop it! I have a boyfriend. Ha! Peter is your boyfriend now? I bite my lower lip and frown. Yes, he is. No he is not. He is your human Love Machine. That was what you told Amina, remember? I lift my head to look at him, but find myself looking at his chest and down the space between our bodies. What is in there? I draw in a deep breath and will my inner voice into silence. I succeed. Relieved, I lock eyes again with Naden, and as I do, I feel a sudden cold settle around my chest. I look down to investigate the reason for the cold and find my top open, my chest completely laid bare to his gaze. I attempt embarrassment and a little anger but nothing works. I give up and just breathe, but even that is hard. The electricity in the air seems to have taken up all the oxygen. Suddenly breathless, I make a slight movement and then freeze when I realize that I am not trying to get away from him but pressing hard against him, against the hard thing between my legs. His face is an inscrutable mask but when he lowers his head, I read his intention clearly. I tense as his lips brushes tantalizingly against my own. His breath is clean and tastes of the vodka he had been taking while we sat outside. I part my lips and press against his lips to taste more of him. We kiss slowly, tongues lightly touching and withdrawing until need consumes me. I lose my restraint and let lust guide me as his hands travel all over my body. Our bodies become entangled and I find my legs wrapped around his waist, my body grinding against his own. I push my hands into his shirt and lean to trace the shell of his ear with my tongue. He releases a low moan that makes me tingle all over. I suddenly want him naked. “Take off your clothes.” He pulls away. I grab the hem of my top and pull the top over my head. I unclasp my bra and toss it aside. I turn to find him still in his shirt, a frown on his face. “Are you sure?” Dazed, lustful and unable to comprehend his question, I reach to pull him close and whisper something in his ear. I don’t know what it is, but whatever it is spurs him into action. He pulls his shirt off. I help him get rid of his trousers and the black boxer briefs underneath. I don’t have time to admire his body because I am falling back to the bed and yielding to the pressure of his legs between my thighs. I feel his fingers touch me at the juncture of my thighs and press against his hand. His fingers begin to move slowly in teasing circles the same time his mouth lowers to my breasts. Sensations shoot through my body. I squirm against him and try to climax, but he is slow, so slow it hurts. I reach and stroke him. He says something about condoms and shakes his head. Reaching past me, he searches the drawers beside the bed, smiles a little and shows me something. It is a condom. He tears the foil off the condom in one easy rip and rolls it on himself. When he is ready, I lift myself off the bed and press against him, determined to lead. He falls back on the bed and I straddle him, lowering myself on him until his entire length completely disappears inside me. Feeling a little full, I begin to move slowly at first until I find my rhythm. I am aware of his moans but I am more focused on the vibrations coursing through my body. Sometimes I lean forward and grind against him, other times I lean backwards and thrust my chest out towards his expert fingers. He matches my aggression and tries to control my movements with his hands on my waist. I am on the edge of a climax when he turns without warning and I find myself under his body. He stops moving for some minutes, his eyes burning into my own. I am restless. I strain against him to urge him on. He seems to smile even though his lips do not move. After what seems like eternity, he resumes his thrusting, pushing deep into me until I can feel him everywhere inside me. I sink my nails into the firm flesh of his buttocks and rock hard against him. His thrusts become faster and I spin with him, holding on to every kiss, every fevered moan until the waves rush over me and I shudder violently in his arms. It is not long before he reaches his own climax. My breathing takes a while to return to normal and when it finally does, I find Naden rolling away from me and standing up from the bed. I refuse to feel the guilt pouring into places lust had been a few minutes ago. Naden returns from the bathroom and I leave the bed for my own shower. When I return back to the room, he is on the floor, on his makeshift bed, dressed in a black T-shirt and gray pajamas, his eyes on his phone. The sheets on the bed are straightened and inviting. I climb into bed and stare at the ceiling. I had sex with Naden. The notion is hard to take in but the dull throbbing between my legs is a mocking reminder of my abandon a few minutes ago. I turn on my side and face the empty space beside me. “Naden?” “Yeah?” His voice is cool, almost distant. “This means nothing. We are not in a relationship.” “I can’t remember asking you out Angela.” I frown a little in the dark and try to interpret the lack of interest in his voice but I am too sleepy to be analytical. I pull the covers up my body and give in to sleep. ********************** NADEN I hit the send key after composing a reply to the text from Jewel and turn on my side to sleep but sleep evades me long after Angela stops moving on the bed. I give up trying to sleep and think about Angela’s statement. This means nothing. I play the words over and over in my head and then remember Jewel again. Will you be my boyfriend? My answer had been vague. We’ll talk when we see. I lie in the dark and think of the woman lying on the bed above me. What have I done? |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Nmeri17: 7:59pm On Nov 19, 2014 |
Virgo dearie  you'll say I'm always criticizing. I actually find yo story interesting that's why I'm hooked  but why do I keep getting the feeling that these latest episodes were rushed I am certain I've seen better from u. Then the sex scene. rushy rushy  and it was predictable shay u know. remember when I wanted to give spoilers?? the way it played out was exactly what i was gonno say!! make me cringe baby twist the storyline beyond my spoiler limits!! yur too impatient to  1 Like |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by crystalsaint(f): 10:55pm On Nov 19, 2014 |
following...I love naden...action man 1 Like |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Nobody: 12:09am On Nov 20, 2014 |
Thank you Virgo for this update. It was...refreshing! welcome back too. 1 Like |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by kaymolla(m): 10:14am On Nov 20, 2014 |
Am a big fan of legal thrillers frm the likes of John Grisham and co so wen I came across dis....even though its Nigerian, I got hooked. Thanks Virgo for dis story...so loving it...#waiting 1 Like |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 2:40pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 2:42pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
Jennimma: Thanks darling, and congratulations on your win. 1 Like |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 2:45pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
kaymolla: Glad to hear you are enjoying the story. |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 2:52pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
Nmeri17: It's okay to criticize dear. However, the story has gone beyond what you read here. These are old episodes. I rushed the updates so NLanders can catch up with the latest episodes on my website. Still, your contribution is highly appreciated. |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 3:03pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
EPISODE 11 ANGELA Glowering at Barrister Shuiabu from his exalted position behind the dais, the judge is almost frightening in his anger. The court room is silent and the eyes of the fifty odd persons in the room are trained on the visibly quaking Barrister Shuaibu and the judge. “Sir, but the prosecution is not bound to call every witness…the case of…Oforkete versus the state and Ihemegbulam Onye….” “You have not brought a single witness Barrister Shuaibu,” the judge says, cutting him off. “And you submitted a list of three witnesses with your statement of claim.” “Yes sir…but – ” Shaking his head, the judge picks up papers before him and thumps them on the dais. “Barrister Shuaibu, you have wasted the time of this court for the past two weeks. I wonder if you think we came here to play.” “No sir,” Barrister Shauibu says, folding into half, his face sagging with embarrassment. “It is not my fault sir. Witnesses have refused to come to court.” The judge shakes his head and begins to sort through the papers in his hand. As the court waits with bated breath for his next pronouncement, I remember my last visit to Hussaina and her story about receiving three strange men the previous day. According to Hussaina, the men had come in a car which in her limited vocabulary could be described as a hybrid of a Toyota Camry and a Honda, but she had been adamant about one thing – the car was big and the windows as dark as midnight. Tinted, the car was tinted right? Her slim shoulders rising in a shrug, Hussaina had fallen into a sullen silence, eyes staring into a secret place that neither her mother nor anyone could reach her. I had gone soon after that, taking the knowledge that men who were probably government officials were visiting her. “….at the next hearing and parties shall submit their written address…” I snap out of my reverie as the court seems to erupt with voices. I turn to Naden and see him closing his journal and reaching for the case beside him. Closing the case with a snap, he looks up. Our eyes lock. “Ready?” I pull my journal to me and leave my seat without a word. He is right behind me as we leave the court. In the car park, I head straight to Ahmed’s car and make myself comfortable at the backseat. He joins me ten minutes later after dumping the case in the boot of the car. We drive out of the court in silence. I try not to think of Hussaina but it is hard. Did her refusal to come to court have anything to do with the visit of the men in the big car with dark windows? What about the other two witnesses? Did the men visit them too? ********************* IKOYI LAGOS Damilola sat in the living room of her friend’s duplex, legs crossed and nursing her favourite punch drink. Tosin Osiyejo, her friend of twenty years was on the phone with her son, angular face relaxed as she listened to something he said. Tosin laughed. “Bawo, I am not playing with you. Find a girl who knows our tradition…you told your dad? What did he say?” Bending over with more laughter, Tosin slapped the arm of her coffee brown leather sofa repeatedly, her slim body quivering with her mirth. Seconds later, she straightened and tried to sound stern with her third child. “I am serious. I want an African daughter in law.” Tosin ended the call with her son and apologized to her friend for the distraction. Damilola smiled and lowered her nearly empty glass to a glass side table with steel legs. “No problem.” Tosin remembered the last thing Damilola had said before the call from her son came. “So he is talking about meeting with your husband?” Damilola stopped smiling and sighed. “Yes.” Leaning back in her seat, Tosin jiggled her legs and studied Damilola. “Do you want that to happen?” Damilola looked down at her gold band on her wedding finger. Her husband had metamorphosed into something that once existed only in her day dreams. Could she risk losing that over a few seconds of madness, a mistake that she wished never happened? She shook her head. “No.” Tosin, avowed truth teller and faithful wife wore a reproachful frown. “Don’t you think you owe him the truth?” Damilola toyed with her wedding ring. “Nothing happened.” “Well Tunde feels differently. If he felt the same way you did, I don’t think he will be talking about seeing Martin.” Damilola looked up at her friend. “He cheated on me too.” “I know,” Tosin said in a soft voice. “I know.” “Maybe I should just meet with Tunde and talk him out of meeting Martin.” “No,” Tosin said, head moving slightly to the left as she made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Don’t. You will make things worse.” Damilola threw her hands up in despair, gold trinkets running down her hand and clinking against each other. “I give up. If Tunde wants to see Martin, so be it.” Tosin’s legs stopped jiggling. Her eyes became intense. Her voice was persuasive when she spoke. “Tell Martin the truth. Reach him before Tunde does.” Damilola looked down at her wedding ring again and wished she could erase the encounter with her former confidant from her past. Now the ghosts were back to haunt her and she did not know how to face them. ********************** |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 3:04pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
THE OYELOWO MANSION MARTIN OYELOWO’S STUDY Martin Oyelowo was on the phone with the Assistant Commissioner of police who was calling from Kano when his wife walked into his study. His eyes swept over his wife’s figure as she approached his desk. He wondered where she had been. He had been disappointed to find her room empty earlier in the day when he had stopped there. “Hello? Are you there?” Martin decided he had learned enough from the Assistant Commissioner of Police. “I will call you tomorrow,” he told the man, pulling his phone away from his ear. His hand lowered to the table, eyes going back to his wife. Now sitting primly in the seat across his desk, her lips were twisted in what could have been a smile if only it had reached her eyes. “Where are you coming from?” Damilola’s lips fell back into a line. “Tosin’s place.” “Okay.” “I need to talk to you about something.” Martin watched his wife for some minutes. He tried to read her. She was worried. She had something important to tell him. What was it? Damilola told him. “I cheated on you.” The study could have been a graveyard. Nothing moved. No sound was heard. Even the voices that had been coming from the television seemed to have disappeared. Martin Oyelowo blinked twice and turned to stone. “When?” “Last year.” “I see.” Damilola lowered her eyes to her lap. “Sorry.” She stood up and left her chair. When she closed the door behind her, Martin Oyelowo drew in a deep steadying breath and came to life again. ******************* UPSTAIRS THE OYELOWO MANSION DAMILOLA OYELOWO’S ROOM Damilola was drifting off to sleep when the lights came back on. She turned, nervous, towards her husband. He stood at the foot of the bed for some minutes, watching her, a predator stalking his victim before the strike. She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. She was scared. There was something in her husband’s eyes that scared her. So when he began to advance towards her, she shrunk into the headboard of her bed. Her heart became a heavy spongy mass, pushing against her rib cage and cutting off precious air supply. Damilola tried to breathe, but instead found that she could not. He reached one hand towards her. She jumped. Her voice, broken and whispery fought its way past her tortured throat. “Wai...wait.” He frowned and seemed to hesitate. “What?” Damilola saw the confusion on his face and became confused. “I thought….” He sighed. “You didn’t think I was going to….” He shook his head and then reached for her. His touch shocked her with its gentleness. Damilola stiffened, her eyes following the progress of his hands up her thighs. He touched her just then. He touched her in all her secret places, drawing confessions that had nothing to do with former friends. Damilola forget fear and surrendered completely to the man she had pledged the rest of her life to. Their lovemaking was fast and intense. When he fell away from her body, he took her with him. “I knew,” he said, fingers stroking her back as she cuddled against his body. Damilola raised herself on her elbows and pushed damp hair from her eyes. “You knew?” Martin shrugged his powerful shoulders, eyes boring into his wife’s own. “Yes.” “How did you know?” Martin cupped his wife’s left breast, thumb grazing her nipple. “I have my ways.” “Did you talk to Tunde?” Martin’s lips turned in a half smile. “He talked to someone.” Damilola was horrified. “He talked to someone?” “Yes.” Damilola bit her lower lip. The news of her cheating had already traveled far. She imagined the gossip and snide comments. “Someone I sent to him.” “It turns out your boyfriend has a loose tongue when he is drunk.” “He was never my boyfriend Martin. We did not have sex. He just touched me….” “I don’t…think that is necessary Damilola.” Damilola swallowed. Martin’s face had become impassive. He leaned closer and kissed her breast. She watched the top of his head, wondering how much he knew, marveling at how much she loved him in spite of everything. ********************** NADEN I close the case file and reach behind me to massage my neck. Feeling a little better, I push the chair back and stand up. Angela is on the bed, back turned to me and concentrating on her phone. I leave for the bathroom to relieve my full bladder. I return back to the room to find Angela on her back. Her eyes are no longer on her phone. They follow me everywhere I go. I walk to the bed and pick up my pillow from it. “Have you finished the address?” I look into curious eyes. “No.” I grab the folded bed sheet at the edge of the bed. “Naden?” “Yes?” “Can I talk to you for a moment?” Clasping the sheets against my side, I turn back to the bed. Angela sits in the middle of it, comfortably propped against the pillow resting against the head board of the bed. I nod at her. “Go ahead. I am listening.” “I think you should sit down.” I take the spot where the bed sheet had been and sit directly opposite Angela. Her face scrubbed free of make up and her white oversized night shirt swallowing her frame up completely, Angela is almost a different person. “It is about Hussaina.” My guard goes up immediately. The old Angela is back. The T-shirt and lack of make up was a disguise after all. “Okay.” Picking through the facts of our case, relaying every event as if she had been a spectator herself, Angela makes a case for Hussaina, painting a pitiful picture of a girl suffering from the trauma of rape. Genuine concern causes her voice to tremble a few times. I find myself picturing the girl whose case I was paid to fight. My spirit sinks a little at the picture I conjure in my mind. “So?” I look at Angela and I am reminded of her father. The jaw is the same, the determined look so similar it is as if I am looking at him. I am hit by the realization that I am caught between father and daughter. Angela’s desire to help Hussaina stemmed from her own desire to rebel against her father. I dismiss the vision of Hussaina in my head and steam the flow of sympathy inside me. “There is nothing we can do for her Angela.” Looking disappointed, Angela leans back into her pillow. “Is that it? You won’t even consider meeting her?” I shake my head firmly. “No.” I stand up from the bed. “Wait!” I sigh inwardly. What now? ********************* |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by virgo(f): 3:04pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
ANGELA I reach out as he leaves the bed. “Wait!” He turns towards me, brows drawn together in a frown. I puzzle over the questions in my head as I look at him. Why this case? Why did strange men visit Hussaina and her mother? “Yes?” I say the next thing I think. “You can sleep on the bed if you want.” He stands at the other side of the bed, his face giving nothing away as he watches me. “I know the floor is not comfortable.” His lips thin. “I am not complaining.” “I know, it is just…it will make me feel better.” “I have been sleeping there for weeks Angela.” I manage a smile. “Okay.” I pull pillow behind me and plump it with tight fists. I see him move from the corner of my eye. Soon the bed sinks with his weight. I place my pillow back in its place and turn from him. *********************** EHOR FOREST EDO STATE The kidnappers led Senator Nosakhare Osarodion out of the forest, beams of torchlight dancing on the trees ahead of them as they fought the thick darkness that surrounded them. The senator was blindfolded and bare feet, his white lace native attire, torn and hanging loosely from his emaciated form like rags. He was led forward by one of the kidnappers, while the other followed closely behind him. Something poked into the soft over pampered feet of the senator and he whimpered in fright. “Shut up there,” the fat kidnapper behind the senator growled, swinging the butt of his rifle into the back of the senator’s knees and causing him to stumble. “Ordinary stick na im dey make you cry like baby.” “Sorry…sorry,” senator Nosakhare said, bound hands clasped and lifted upwards as if in prayer. “Sorry sir.” The men continued their journey in silence, their boots making squishy sounds as they crushed leaves swollen with dew and light rain. They found themselves at the edge of the forest and approached the narrow road that led to the express. A Honda Element stood waiting for them on the road. It was empty. The kidnapper in front switched his gun from his right hand to his left one and fished for the keys in his pocket. He opened the doors of cars and directed the second kidnapper to put the senator in the backseat. Nodding quickly, the other kidnapper shoved their victim into the car. The senator tumbled headlong into the car and landed in an awkward twisted heap on the floor of the car. He stayed where he was, mumbling incoherently as the car started and shot forward. The kidnappers drove to the expressway and turned in the direction of the place they had described to the senator’s family. They drove for several minutes, eyes checking the rear view mirror and everywhere for suspicious movement behind them. They began to relax after driving without any incidence. The kidnapper in the passenger seat had a wide grin on his face. They had gotten through. Twenty million was theirs. “Did you notice anything?” The smile hobbled on the kidnapper’s face as he looked at his friend and driver. “Notice wetin?” he asked in the same low tone his friend had used. “It felt like someone was following us.” Turning in his seat, the other kidnapper looked back and checked for cars behind them. He saw only pitch darkness. He laughed nervously. “I no see anything.” They finally arrived at the deserted filling station where they had ordered the ransom money to be dropped. They flashed their headlights on the Ghana-must-go sitting on the pavement. “Na the money be that,” the passenger seat kidnapper said, his eyes growing bigger. “Make I go carry am?’ The driver seat kidnapper nodded, eyes showing worry as he looked at the bushes flanking their car on either side of the road. “Yes. Go.” His partner never made it to the bag. They were surrounded by the state’s anti-crime squad before they could reach their bounty. The police released Senator Nosakhare from the bounds that kept his limbs immobilized. The senator at once free, became a Christian again. He jumped and sang loudly in the dead of the night as his kidnappers groaned under the knees of red eyed policemen with fierce expressions. Convenant keeping God, there is no one like you….Alpha and Omega, there is no one like you… *********************** NADEN I wake up suddenly, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. I try to remember the dream but my memory is a blank sheet. There is nothing there to remind me of the nightmare of a few minutes ago. I become aware of the weight on my arm and look down to find Angela sleeping, back drawn against my chest. I forget all about my nightmare as she moves in her sleep, pushing her backside into my groin. She mutters something in her sleep. I am torn between putting her back in her space and letting her sleep in my arms. As I bother myself about options, the room comes alive with the light from the screen of my phone. I stretch my hand gently and pull it from under my pillow. I squint at the screen. My mother. I check the phone. It is exactly three in the morning. “Mum?” “Naden, abeg help me pray,” my mother says, a sob catching in her voice….”I dream say dem kill Boma. Help me pray. Na only two of una I born o!!” There is a clicking sound and the call ends before I get a chance to ask questions. Dialing her number immediately, I wait for several frustrating minutes before she picks. Her words are punctured and stretched by deep uncontrollable sobs this time. “I dream….help me pray….na only two of una I born o!” I finally let her go, but not without the assurance that I would pray for my brother. It is hard to sleep after her call. Something has happened to Boma. I know it. 3 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Nmeri17: 3:28pm On Nov 20, 2014 |
kaymolla: bro have u read The Client??  Virgo this is more like it!! |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by morhtunrahyoh(f): 10:17pm On Nov 25, 2014 |
Pls pity my mb nw av been checking since bt u dnt update thirsty of ur update o i beg. Really love the story very interesting keep it up bro |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by tunery004(m): 11:48pm On Nov 28, 2014 |
Virgo........shey na like dis u wan abandon dis grt story? Pls try an update now......op u r good sha |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by tijehi(f): 4:19am On Nov 29, 2014 |
Go and read this masterpiece on her website, she's passed this episode. The addy is www.umariayim.com Come thank me later  |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Nobody: 11:30pm On Dec 04, 2014 |
Where are you dear?  |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Nobody: 4:47pm On Dec 17, 2014 |
Virgo please where are you? If no other person misses you,i do. Please,come and complete this beautiful story. |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Nmeri17: 5:18pm On Dec 17, 2014 |
Jennimma: they say she's now on her blog fully. she ain't here no more. the address is in her signature I think |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Nobody: 5:20pm On Dec 17, 2014 |
Nmeri17:ok,thank you for the info |
| Re: Gentlemen Of The Bar by Charmin1(f): 7:46pm On Oct 16, 2021 |
virgo: Please Umari, I have been trying to get the complete version of Moshe's Diary. I bought once from you but I can't find it again and the one in okada books is not complete. Please how can I get it? |
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