Pls can u update frequently.... the suspense is killing me

Op, come and update now.. Make I no curse you for this Ramadan o

bqlekan:
Op, come and update now.. Make I no curse you for this Ramadan o

Still typing.....no vex

I'm waiting too...

Me too

DJ Slam was all laughs as I narrated my experience with Katty to him. He said Tessy would soon come for me but I did not believe him and I vowed to ensure it does not happen again with Katty or Tessy for that matter. I told him I would confess to Chioma but he warned me never to try it.
Old boy wetin dey do you? He asked; you be woman wrapper? Why you dey talk like a Jew man so? Listen make I tell you the truth Omo! Many babes dey die for you for this town o! Na me just dey discourage them by telling them say you be homo!
Wetin? I shouted. You tell them wetin?
He laughed and said; listen let me tell you Omo, some of the babes you see around me at school or here in the hotel come to meet me in order to get to you but you don’t seem to look their way and since I don’t want to get you so distracted I simply tell them that you are gay and I end up sleeping with them! He continued to laugh.
Old boy this is not funny nah! I said; of all excuses to give them, why tagging me a yansh man? Couldn’t you have said I am not interested in women or something else?
Ehen! Listen to your self now, he said; you just said it now that you are not interested in women! If you are not interested in women what would you be interested in? No be men? He started to laugh again.
That’s not what I mean and you know it, I said. What of Chioma? Is she not a woman?
And that’s the problem! He exclaimed; Chioma! Chioma! Chioma! You go dey follow her up and down like dog dey follow small pikin wey wat to shit for Village. Old boy, explore! Rule your world! See as you tall and fine! You come sabi book join am but you dey jones!
I no dey jones! I countered
Oh you no dey jones? Simply because Chioma friend come wire you for your room you don dey feel say you too belong abi? If the girl no come to you, you for get the liver to toast her? He said
Why I go toast her when I dey date her friend? Is it normal? I asked
Then why she come wire you, not withstanding say she be your babe friend? Why? He asked
I no know! I replied
Why you go know? He said. Jew man feeling funky! Omo I beg make you wake up o! Na Owerri you dey o! No be Ekiti! For here we dey shine our eyes! Are you aware that Amara is dying to date you? He asked.
Amara? Which Amara? I asked
The same Amara wey dey come do holiday job for here nah! Oga Dan sister! He said.
Yee! I exclaimed; Oga Dan sister? Innocent Amara? I asked
Common shut up ya mouth! He said; wetin you mean by innocent?
Amara na good girl nah, every body know! I said.
Oh no! Oh no! He exclaimed; Bolaji you dey fall my hand! How could you be so gullible? There is no good girl or innocent girl any where these days, it died in the era of our fore fathers!
Okay no vex! I pleaded. Ehen! Back to Amara issue, na who tell you say she like me? I asked
She told me herself! He said;
Did you also tell her that I am gay? I asked.
No nah! She knows you are not, she knows you are dating Chioma!
Hmm, yet she still wants to date me? I asked
And you said she is innocent and good! He replied. Well, she believes that Chioma is a runs girl and not fit for you!
So did you wire her too? I asked
No! She won’t agree, she knows me very well, he said
But why she no tell me face to face nah? I asked
You be Jew man nah! Slam said; how else you want make she take talk am? All the green lights wey she dey show you, you no fit to decode! Is it until she uses Katty’s style? Even before you started dating Chioma, that girl has been coming around you, flirting with you but you dey form good boy! Abi Amara no fine reach?
Haba! Amara na fine girl nah! But na my Oga Sister o! I said
And so what? Na Oga Dan go marry his sister? Abi Oga Dan no dey wire other people sisters? He asked.
Mba nu, Slam, Amara is like a sister to me I beg! I said
Shattap ya Yoruba mgbati-mgbati mouth there! He shouted; na wetin relate Amara with Bolaji? Wetin relate Ekiti and Enugu? Yeye jew man! No be only ya sister, na ya mama! Old boy wake up na! He sounded pissed with me.
Kai! Kai! The girl fit don hate me now o! I exclaimed.
She can’t hate you, in fact she does not hate you, and she was only disappointed in your taste! Slam said.
How nah? My taste how? Is Chioma not good enough? Chioma was not a runs girl nah and you know it Slam! Why didn’t you tell her that Chioma was not a runs babe? I asked
Wetin be my own? Do I know Chioma before? Na me born am? I sabi wetin she don do before she come Owerri? Look! I cannot vouch for any babe that is above fifteen years! Even my younger sister! He said.

Well, all I know is that Chioma is a good girl and I love her! I said
No vex o! No vex! He said and he left me to attend to his musical set. We were talking outside the DJ cubicle.

I continues to have a secret relationship with Katty, she happened to be very close to Chioma and she knows her itinery so we were discreet but I always looked forward to moments with her, those were explosive moments. I still respect her till date on how she comports herself whenever I am in their company. I found it difficult to meet her gaze so that Chima would not be suspicious but Katty acts so natural that I sometimes wonder if she was not the girl I was cheating Chioma with. But in all of these, I never stopped reading at night. After closing the bar at 2.PM I read until 5.PM before sleeping, I wake up at 7.30AM and go to school, I return at 4PM and sleep until 9PM. It was a routine that I tried to keep.

My first problem with Chioma started when she realized I had over a million naira in my bank account, she was cleaning up my room in the hotel when she stumbled upon my bank pass book. She reminded me of the Car I wanted to buy and I told her what Mr. Adegoke told me about sending the wrong signals. She did not like the idea at all; she said I do not have to listen to Mr. Adegoke because everyone know I was a hustler and could afford the Car. I declined and told her I have always followed Mr. Adegoke’s advice. She was angry and as she ranted, she cautiously avoided insulting Mr. Adegoke so as not to hurt my feelings. Eventually she threw the bomb!
If you don’t want a car, me I need a car! She said defiantly. It was as if I was slapped from behind my back. What? You said what? I asked
I need a small Car of my own! She said; I need a Gulf 3!
Is this a joke or something? I asked.
BJ! I am dead serious! Since you cannot spend your money on yourself, then spend it on me! I am your girlfriend!
Listen Chi! I said; even if I am to buy you a car, it should not be like this nah!
Like how? She snapped
I mean, like quarrel! Like you are forcing me to! I said
I am not forcing you! I need it! I have been wanting to tell youth is since! I was only waiting for you to buy yours first!

But you know that would drain my account nah! How would I just buy two cars at once! I said.

BJ you can afford it! I know you can! She said.
No my dear! I cannot afford it! The future is still bleak! I need to save up for the rainy days! Listen my dear, I am a student! You are a student! I know I work here and there to make ends meet but I am not that buoyant! Don’t I provide all your needs for you?
What do you mean by you are not buoyant? She threw my pass book at me; you have over a million naira in you bank account! Three fifty to four hundred thousand naira will buy the car for me and you will still have enough in your account! Bolaji! Do you love me? She asked
Of course Chi! You know I do! I replied.
Then buy me my car! She grabbed her hand bag and walked out of my room crying.
I was confused! I need to talk to Slam.

Sorry for you, Bolaji.
Na only God go help you here

My guy is about to enter one chance..

Ghost mode deactivated.

OP, your story is full of lessens for the young and old.

Thank for sharing .


Ghost mode activated.

Nice one oga Dom.all your stories have been hit back to back from restless survival to thorn in the flesh and this.you are gud sir.we are privileged to have you as a writer here.jah bless you.

Oga DOMAWOLEYE am here again .... This is another thriling and educative story nice obe boss ... I will always follow ur work just alart me and i will be on ur thread

kudos brother, I really love the story. more ink to your pen

This one na big Gobe..,...make Bolaji be wise oh .i sight you bro,ride on

peeled

Thank s for d update. But more plsss

nice update bro
u have made my day.
more ink to your pen

Dis story was so touching.

Waooo, oga don thanks for the update hope it won't be too long b4 you update again

Interesting!!

Interesting update.

CHAPTER 17

I took a short vacation and traveled west. It was an impromptu decision I took after reading the last letter from Uncle Goke. I felt home sick; I was done with every academic activity except for my clearance that would be done before the NYSC programme. The only people I told about my journey were Oga Dan and the Manager of Vita Logistics. DJ Slam was away on political rally; he mobilized body guards for some politicians and had to be on ground to keep his dogs under close supervision.

My first point of call was at Mr. Goke’s house at Ibadan, a four bedroom bungalow with a two room boys quarters at Apata area of the city. He lectures at the sociology department of the University of Ibadan, he also owned a two hectare of land along old –Ife road where he farms, he goes there on public holidays and week ends.
He was visibly surprised at the transformation he saw in me. I had grown taller and muscular compared to how I was five years before.
His first child Oluwayemisi had gained admission into the University of Ife and was away at school when I came. The son was in final year in secondary school and the wife runs a Grocery shop built at the front of his house.
I was with Madam at her shop after all morning chores and Mr. Goke had gone to work and the son to school. Madam left the shop at mid day to the popular dugbe market to replenish her stock. I was with the two paid sales girls she employed at the shop. Customers were trooping in and out of the shop from morning till evening. It was more hectic in the evening because the house is strategically location at a junction of three streets and as such returnees from work make their last minute purchases at the shop before getting to their home after the days activities.
Mr. Goke had three cars in his compound. The Mitsubishi Van used by the wife for her business, a Toyota RAV 4 used privately by the wife and a Toyota Camry 2. 2 used by himself. I was proud of him as he had steadily climbed up the success Ladder over the years; he has even developed a budding pot belly. He does not drink and he does not smoke but he entertained me with my Ultimate Lager when I came around. “Gulder, the Ultimate”. The wife sells chilled beverages in her shop.
I got to his house on a Thursday evening; I rested on Friday though I helped out at Madam’s shop then on Saturday we went to the farm with his son Gbadebo. When we got to the farm we changed into farm clothes, I wore an old cloth of his though it was under sized, it suited the purpose, we went plucking ripe maize and cutting down the stem of the plant, we later went to the Wife’s Garden and plucked the ripe Okra, pepper and vegetables, the harvest was reasonably large because the back of the Mitsubishi Van we went with was full.
After working for three hours, we settled down and roasted some fresh maize. We made a big fire and threw the maize in it without peeling of the shaft. The fire cooked and roasted the maize, and then we pulled the burnt shaft out and peeled it off the maize revealing well cooked and delicious fresh maize grain. I ate six pieces and I was full. We drank from the chilled water bottle we brought from home before proceeding on second round of work which was tidying up the farm and the area we cooked. We gathered all the maize stems that we cut down and the shafts of the maize we ate and kept them on a plane ground to dry up for burning by the next visit to the farm. This would allow enough air into the farm land for other crops to thrive.

We got back home around 4 PM and went to off load our harvest at Madam’s shop. She immediately displayed the maize and vegetables in smaller portions on a table outside her shop. She sold off everything before retiring into the house at 8 PM. People returning home from work in the evening bought off the fresh farm produce. Madam shared the proceeds of the sale into two halves and gave her husband a portion. That is how they live their lives; there was mutual love and understanding. Uncle Goke then gave Gbadebo his pocket money out of the money. He offered me some money but I declined. He was feeding me free of charge already. I owe this man my status today.

I left for Ijan Ekiti on Saturday morning to return to Ibadan in four days before going back to the east.
My house was as I had left it. I had to break the padlock because I had lost the key. I got there at 9 AM and started to clean up until after noon. There were dust and thick cobwebs all over the place. I opened all doors and windows as I cleaned
Villagers came around when they noticed that some one was in the house. Every one that saw me screamed out their surprise at how much I have grown over the years, my physical features had changed save for my eyes. I left as a boy and returned as a man.

On Monday morning I went to my land. The two plots given to me by the community some years back. It has been left uncared for all this while and has been over grown by trees and weed. I decided to keep my self busy while at home by clearing the land and fencing it.
I went round my home town. Some of the old butchers were still alive and selling. I saw some urchins on stand by waiting for the butchers to throw something away. I greeted the butchers, they were happy to see me; the old women that sell vegetables and fruits remembered me and prayed for me as I gave them some money.
I went to greet Modupe’s Landlord “Baba Landlord” who happened to be my name sake. Another tenant had taken over Modupe’s house. He was very surprised at my transformed self. He asked if I ever ran into any member of Modupe’s family. I said no. He sent some fresh curses to them where ever they were and I said Amen.

Akin, Modupe’s boy friend years back came to my house the next day Tuesday, I was at my plot of land working in company of Tunde, a young Lad that was born just before I left for secondary school years back. He is the grand son of Baba land lord and has taken an immediate liking to me. He saw me going out of my house with my Cutlass in the morning and had run to pick up his own Cutlass to join me; he thought I was going to farm. He was named Babatunde then because he was born a day after his father died. The pregnant mother died out of high blood pressure which had led to a forced labour that produced him. He had been with his grand father since then. He did not suck his mother’s breast. Baba Landlord has three daughters while in active service. His wife had died of cancer several years back and he lost his first daughter who gave birth to Tunde. The other two daughters are in their husbands houses.

Things were not too rosy for Akin. His influential father had died six years back and his wealth shared amongst relatives. He did not get much. He had graduated about three years back but yet to get a job. None of his father’s acquaintances could help him. He had believed so much that his father’s connections would pave way for him. He was disappointed in the City so he has come back home to farm, and since he cannot farm alone, he had put a young girl in the family way; at least life must go on! He had said.

He apologized to me for taking sides with Modupe years back when we had a quarrel. He said Modupe and her family had relocated to Lagos with my money. Modupe gained admission into the University of Lagos to study secretariat studies while the mother shuttled between Nigeria and Dubai for business. He said they lived in Amuwo Odofin estate. He could not continue his relationship with Dupe after the death of his father because he was short of cash and could not continue to service the extravagant life style he was living with Dupe. He was ashamed of himself as Modupe was then a Lagos girl with high taste and expectations.
He went to my house to get a Cutlass and together, the three of us worked on my land until the evening. We retired to my house and took our baths. I sent Tunde to buy a gallon of palm wine from “Baba Elemu” the wine Taper. We sat outside the house on the terrace drinking and gisting and before long there were about ten youths drinking and gisting. Baba Landlord joined us later with an additional gallon of freshly tapped wine.
Akin reminded the small forum to stop referring to me as Bolaji but Engineer, he told them it was not a small feat to achieve while Baba land lord went into a story telling session about the white man’s technology called engineering, he held the listeners spell bound with lies that sounded like fact to my hearing.
Baba landlord was a police officer that had worked in several Cities before retiring in Lagos as a superintendant. He built his houses while still in service and till date, his detractors say he built the houses out of bribe money called “egunje”
Every time he told a lie that surprised the small audience and they exclaim their disbelief, he told them to confirm from me. I simply said “beeni” it is so! Every one was high on palm wine and would not remember the discussion by the next day. Akin was just enjoying himself laughing at their gullibility.

By Friday, the two plots of land was cleared, my friends that came to drink at my house all turned up with their Machetes the next morning and we descended on the land cutting down and up rooting trees. Of course at night we drank ourselves into the night again and this time, there was bush meat and some Village girls too to spice up the forum. Three girls joined us from no where. These were girls that have had at least two kids in their father’s house and were ready to go home with any man as long as you can buy them drink and food and give them a little change to fend for their Kids.

I called a brick layer to build a fence round the two plots of land while a contracted a local welder to built a gate for me. He was happy to charge me half of the amount I had expected to be charged for the job..

There were no more innocent girls in the Village. All the little girls I left in the Village have become Baby mamas to some elusive boys. They roam the village with their babies strapped to their backs while their boy friends eke out their living by riding commercial motor cycles in Ado Ekiti, the capital City. Their only hope is to be married eventually to a widower or to be second wife to a local rich farmer. It was sad to see how low our girls had degenerated.

They were shy to come to my house for fear of being ridiculed by the elderly, especially Baba Landlord who has made my veranda his resting place in the afternoon drinking palm wine until evening.

Dom! I've missed you o... I'm so glad you are back.

I'm so enjoying your story Op, thanks for sharing God bless you.

Thanks for this update op... But pls can yo make it more frequent?

charijee:
At last

Hehe, I got released from the prison.. I've been digesting the 22 rules since morning


Good afternoon ma'am, how are you today?

charijee:
Lol ....you don't wanna be a victim again

Afternoon sir, i'm good

Nice update Domawoleye,

No oo.. I learnt my lessons

Have a fruitful day ma

So interesting and educating, I had to read from page 0 to page 2, I want to believe that the story is still far from the end.
nice write up,
thumb up.

adecares:
So interesting and educating, I had to read from page 0 to page 2, I want to believe that the story is still far from the end.
nice write up,
thumb up.

Thanks a lot Ade! Story still dey brekete! lol!