₦airaland Forum

Let us hope the probe will yield positive results.

I nodded and thanked him. I got inside the building, climbed up the stair case and pressed the bell of the flat he directed.

In a jiffy, a voice called from within: 'Who is that?'

I cleared my throat. 'I'm the one sent by your mum to get the file.'

There was a moment of pause. Then, the door was unlocked and opened.

'Please, come in.'

I entered the living-room. 'Good morning,' I greeted.

'Good morning.'

Bisola looked like her mum, especially with her eyes.

'Are you Bisola?' I asked. The question was absolutely unnecessary, but I had the urge to ask it.

'Yes, who are you, please?' She looked at me all over as if she was making an evaluation.

'I'm Henry and I work for her.'

She nodded. 'Yes, let me get the file.'

She went to the dinning-table.

'I was told you're a student of the university,' I said aloud. 'Why are you not in school?'

She was soon back to the sitting-room with the file.

'Don't you listen to news?' she parried.

I raised an eye brow. 'What news?'

'Didn't you hear that ASUU is on strike?'

Now, I remembered. Florence said the same thing.

'Oh, I see.'

She smiled at me as I got the file from her.

'Thank you, Bisola.'

'You're welcome.'

I nodded at her and turned to go. 'Have a nice day.'

'Yeah, you too.'

I left the flat and drove back to the office. This time around, there was some traffic. It took more than one hour to get back to the office. About
noon, a truck came to deliver consignments of face caps and t-shirts bearing the name of the senator and the party logo. These were meant to
be distributed to people when campaigns and rallies started we sorted them out and arranged them in bales. By four o’clock, Ms. Davies informed
that I could close for the day. I had not seen the senator since morning. He had probably gone to attend some political meetings.

'I suppose you came with your car today,' she said.

'Yes, madam.'

'Good night, then.'

'Good night, ma'am.'

I changed my mind about going to the club, so I drove home. As usual, Kike opened the main door for me.

'Hello, Kike. How're you?'

'Fine.'

She was acting too cool for my liking. Rather than following me upstairs to my room, she went straight to her room. I followed her there.

'What's the problem, Kike?' I asked.

'Nothing.' She sat on her bed and I sat by her. I just felt I should say or do something that would make her to be excited.

'I miss you,' I said. She didn't say anything.

'Did you hear me?'

'Yes.'

'And you didn't say anything?'

She folded her arms across her chest. I wrapped my left hand on her shoulders.

'You don't believe me?' I asked.

'I don't know.'

'But you should know.'

She didn't respond. Okay, she was playing games. I could play games too.


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Cool

He looked taken aback by my declaration.

“Didn’t you promise to right all the wrongs you’ve done to her?”

“Well, it’s true I told her how sorry I was for all the previous heart aches I had caused, but I didn’t promise her any marriage.”

There was a sly smile on the face of the man. “Yet, you went on to impregnate her?”

He had a point there, but I didn’t willfully impregnate her. It was not planned for, at least on my part.

“How will you reconcile the fact that you’ve impregnated her and she’s keeping the baby?”

I sighed. It was all Yetunde’s pet plan, I thought grimly. “She’s the one insisting that she’ll have the baby,” I explained feebly.

The man studied me for some uncomfortable seconds. “Henry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you remember I told you that you must not break her heart the second time?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, so why are you intent on breaking it again?”

I looked perplexed. If anybody wanted to break another person’s heart, it was Yetunde who wanted to break her own heart, I felt. She knew I was married , yet went on to profess love and affection.

Why must she stick to me, when there were many single and handsome guys out there from wealthy background?
I kept all these thoughts to myself.

“You need to meet with her,” the Senator went on. “The two of you should meet and deliberate on your future. Let the two of you come to an accord. I want to hear the outcome of that soonest.”

Now, from all intents, the man was urging me to reach a fruitful alliance with his daughter.

Well, it was neither his nor Yetunde’s faith. When a guy could not control his sexual urge, he landed in an unsavory circumstance such as mine.

I soon left his office, wondering what next I should do. I picked up my phone and called her line.

“Hello, Yetunde,” I said as soon as she came over the line.

“Hi, Henry.”

“We’ve got to meet,” I went straight to the point. “Where can we meet?”

“Come over to my place,” she said. From her tone, I could discern that the old Yetunde was back – the authoritative and haughty one. She must have known that her victory was in the air.

“I don’t know the place.”

“I’ll send the address to you by text.”

“Okay. I’ll be coming right after I close from the office.”

“Right.”

About five minutes later, her text message came. I left the office about four-thirty and drove straight to her residence. It took thirty minutes of driving. It was a white duplex and it appeared she had the whole place to herself. A lady I suspected was one of her cousins came to the gate.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted.”

“Good afternoon. I’ve come to see Yetunde.”

“Come right in.”

“Thank you.” I followed her to the main entrance and to the sitting-room.

“Please, sit down. She will be joining you soon.”

I nodded and sat myself comfortably on one of the fine, leather seats. The lady disappeared from the large room but soon reappeared.

“What drinks can I get you, sir?”

I shook my head. “I’m okay for now.”

She left again. The large television screen in the room was beaming a love movie. Absent-mindedly, I stared at it.

Some minutes later, Yetunde came to meet me in the room. The pregnancy was conspicuous on her now. She seemed to have added weight, but the pretty face remained as pretty as ever.

“Henry, dear. Why’re you not taking anything?”

“I asked her not to bother.”

She came to briefly pat me on the shoulder before going on to sit directly opposite where I sat.

“How’re you and how’s the baby kicking?”
She smiled and rubbed her right hand on her tummy. “We’re fine.”

I tried to smile too.

“Dad said he has talked to you.”

I nodded. “But, there’s something he said which I found strange. He said you and I had decided to wed again. As far as I can remember, I never discussed anything like that with you.”

“I didn’t tell anything like that,” she defended.

Now, I was perplexed. Who was saying the truth, and who was putting words in the mouth of the other person?

https://publish.okadabooks.com/book/about/a_thorn_in_the_flesh_2/30375

My hand her chest the way you would hold a treasure trove. We both slept off. There would be no need she slept in her room tonight. Right or wrong, she slept in my arm.

At dawn, in as much as I would like to have a replay of the whole act, I decided to reserve my energy till later in the day.

“Hello, beauty,” I tapped her gently. She opened her eyes dreamily and stared at me.

“Hello.”

“Did you have a nice sleep?”

She smiled up at me. “Yes, I did.”

I kissed her lips lightly.

“It’s time for me to start preparing for work,” I announced as I made my way to the bedroom.

There, I brushed my teeth and had a cold bath. I wrapped the thick, white towel round my body and returned to the bedroom.

Edith had left, probably for her room. I shrugged and remembered the previous night. She was a good girl whose performance was satisfying. I wouldn’t mind having such an intimate session with her over and over again.

I dressed up for work. I didn’t even bother to tell Edith that I was on my way out. I folded some money on the center table and left. In the office, work went on smoothly.

During break time, the Senator once again called me to his office. I was with a pen and jotter to take down his instructions or observations. I soon realized that I would not be needing any of the writing materials.

“I call you to discuss Yetunde’s matter,” he stated.

“She said you’ve re-proposed marriage to her.”

I was puzzled by that. When did I propose to marry Yetunde again? When? Where? How?

“I’m surprised to hear that,” I said. “I didn’t make any proposition.”

He looked taken aback by my declaration. “Didn’t you promise to right all the wrongs you’ve done to her?”

“Well, it’s true I told her how sorry I was for all the previous heart aches I had caused, but I didn’t promise her any marriage.”

There was a sly smile on the face of the man. “Yet, you went on to impregnate her?”

He had a point there, but I didn’t willfully impregnate her. It was not planned for, at least on my part.

“How will you reconcile the fact that you’ve impregnated her and she’s keeping the baby?”

I sighed. It was all Yetunde’s pet plan, I thought grimly. “She’s the one insisting that she’ll have the baby,” I explained feebly.

The man studied me for some uncomfortable seconds. “Henry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you remember I told you that you must not break her heart the second time?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, so why are you intent on breaking it again?”

I looked perplexed. If anybody wanted to break another person’s heart, it was Yetunde who wanted to break her own heart, I felt.

She knew I was marry, yet went on to profess love and affection. Why must she stick to me, when there were many single and handsome guys out there from wealthy background?

I kept all these thoughts to myself.

“You need to meet with her,” the Senator went on.

“The two of you should meet and deliberate on your future. Let the two of you come to an accord. I want to hear the outcome of that soonest.”



Full story available @ https://publish.okadabooks.com/book/about/a_thorn_in_the_flesh_2/30375

Good development.

For sure, covid-19 is not a death sentence.

This is serious

We are waiting.

Concerning the migration, something definitely is wrong somewhere.

Interesting episode.

Nice update.

In an erotic, suggestive move, Edith rubbed her pussy against me and smiled with pleasure at my quiet moan. God, she was so attractive, so damned slender and young underneath me.

Easing my hands off her small butt, I settled my full weight onto her. We kissed again, dry humping each other, and I could imagine how incredible it would be to be naked with her in this position.

Excitement was building; while restraint was crumbling, I ended the kiss by sucking her ripe lower lip, eased the side of my body off her, reached down between us, and cupped her pussy.

Silky panties slipped and slid against my palm as I caressed the remarkable shape of her mons and sexy, sexy fullness of her vulva below, warm to the touch. Edith’s eyes narrowed slightly when I traced her cleft.

Excitement punished me. She moaned almost silently and pulled me back into a kiss, her passion more intense, mouth moving. Against my palm, she undulated her pussy, responding, aroused.

Still kissing, she reached down between us and felt my erection, rubbing me over my jeans. Heat hit me. My cock ached, uncomfortably constrained, awkwardly positioned downwards.

Edith explored the shape, rubbed and caressed. She moved her crotch, scrubbing her pussy against my hand and my arousal intensified even more. I traced her cleft, pressed her silky panties into her soft, lush cleft, and rubbed her clit.

Edith gasped, ending the kiss, her breath rapid. She fondled me harder, pressing and exploring my crotch, then let me go and wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on. Her eyes closed, nostrils flared. Damn it was exciting! Was she about to climax?

It was fast of her. Perhaps because she was still so exuberant. In a spectacularly erotic display, Edith held her breath, her body tense, pausing, on the cusp. With an explosive gasp, she tumbled into her orgasm, hips moving, pussy scrubbing.

A look of pain flitted across her face, brows furrowed. She gasped again and, breathing through her mouth, she humped my hand, body shaking. It felt like forever. I forgot my need, enraptured by her sweet ecstasy. And slowly she calmed. With my hand, I came to the climax of the erotic dream.

I shuddered as I felt jolts of energy run all over my body. It was an exhilarating and exciting experience.

I watched my partner. Her face now looked relaxed, while her body became still.

My hand her chest the way you would hold a treasure trove. We both slept off. There would be no need she slept in her room tonight. Right or wrong, she slept in my arm.

At dawn, in as much as I would like to have a replay of the whole act, I decided to reserve my energy till later in the day.


https://publish.okadabooks.com/book/about/a_thorn_in_the_flesh_2/30375

oludavis123:
The heart of a man......

...is desperately wicked.

The SGF’s circular now protects heads of agencies from their supervising ministers’ arbitrariness but may have created a hurdle of red-tapism that may delay – or even prevent – sanction for abuses.

That's the fact.

Precious thought if she broke out of her jail cell, she would run into freedom. She thought if she fled Jane’s Ghetto (brothel), she would break into blossom, and finally set on the path to achieve her dreams.

One month after The Nation revealed her predicament as a sex slave in Bracody’s underworld in Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire, she has fled captivity by Lady Jane, her Nigerian madame, to whom she was sold by her boyfriend, Nonso, for a paltry N220, 000. Lady Jane, the trafficker and sex merchant, claimed that she owed her N480, 000, however.


“There was no way I could work off the debt. I am tired. My body is tired. My genitals are worn. Because I was too eager to make money and pay off my debt, I slept with an average of 17 men daily, ‘short time’ and till day break. They were violent and mean. Most of my clients were vagabonds; street urchins, park thugs and criminals, and they did lots of wicked things to me,” she said, showing the scars of multiple cigarette burns on her left breast to the reporter.

Shesaid, “I got these scars from Lady Jane’s body guard. His name is Franc. He is an enforcer. He is deployed to discipline girls who claim to be sick and whose daily remittances were incomplete. The day he burned me with cigarettes, I was very sick. I serviced six customers between 4 am and 6 am. Then I became tired and I could not go on. I felt truly sick but my madame (Lady Jane) did not believe me. So she told Franc to discipline me. Franc beat me with a rod. He broke my jaw and burned me with cigarette on my left breast. I yielded when the pain became unbearable to me,” she said, stressing that she planned her escape from that point onwards.

Sold into slavery in 2018 by her boyfriend, Nonso, who claimed he was helping her process employment as a house-help in The Netherlands, Precious was instead trafficked via West Africa’s road corridor to Abidjan, where she was put to work as a prostitute in Lady Jane’s sex camp.

After a long, tortuous journey through land borders, the truth dawned on her with vicious pangs: she wasn’t going to The Netherlands to earn $600 a month as a housemaid. She arrived in Abidjan to a rude awakening eerily termed “The welcome party.”

Precious was forced to UnCloth and subjected to “brutal rape” by two of Lady Jane’s pimps and a bodyguard. “I was 15 and a virgin, but they deflowered me,” she lamented.

For three nights, Precious refused to eat and “service” customers and in response, her madame locked her up in a toilet. “She denied me food and water for three days. She said she would kill me and that I would regain my freedom once I pay a “debt” of N480, 000, to cover the money she spent as my travel expenses. I didn’t know how she came by that figure,” she said, claiming that she couldn’t run away because she was “very afraid” of the blood oath that she was forced to make. “They said I would develop leprosy and run mad if I ever ran away,” she said.

Precious, however, summoned the courage to flee two days after meeting with The Nation. “They saw me with you. They knew I told you about Princess, because after my interview with you, Princess was forcibly removed from the brothel by a team comprising two of her clients, Festus, her brother and a policeman. My madame was livid because she happened to be the hottest girl around. She attracted more patronage and bigger fish. Lady Jane swore to deal with anyone involved in her escape. I heard the girls talking about it. If I didn’t run, they would kill me,” she said.

Hence, a few weeks after her story got published in the second instalment of The Nation’s investigative series on sex trafficking, Precious fled Lady Jane’s sex camp in Bracody, on the pretext of going out to fetch water.

Speaking from her new base, she said: “I fled in a wrapper and bathroom slippers. A perfect opportunity presented itself around 8.15 am on a Tuesday. We went out to fetch bath water in a group watched by Franc and his vagabonds. But I escaped while they retreated to smoke weed in a shed close to the reservoir. I didn’t tell anyone of my plan. If not, some of the other girls would rat on me. If I got caught, they would make me ‘disappear’ (kill) me,” she said.

But freedom isn’t as rosy as it was cracked up to be, the 18-year-old would find. Since her escape, she has been finding it tough on the streets of Abidjan.

The first woman she approached for help in Marcory pawned her off to a couple in Treichville. “I thought she was a Good Samaritan but after giving me shelter for a week, she sold me off to a couple, Francis and Lydia Okon, in Treichville. I don’t think those are their real names because they have three different international passports. The duo gave me a room in their apartment and initially urged me to sleep with men to pay for my boarding. When I resisted, the husband forced me. He beat me up. And he later gave me CFA 10, 000. He promised to help me return to Nigeria, if I cooperated. I believed him. I started hustling (prostituting) for them and they paid me CFA 2,500 everyday, even though I made at least CFA 30, 000 everyday servicing customers in their two-room apartment.

“Sometimes, the husband took me out to meet clients in their homes. Sometimes, they took me out and kept vigil while I slept with neighbours in their cars at night. Soon they begged me to get them more girls. They said they were trying to set up a brothel and that they needed my experience in recruiting and managing fresh Nigerian girls,” she said.

Eight days ago, Precious escaped bondage – for the second time in two months – while shopping with Lydia, her new madame, in Yopougon. She has decided to “lie low and hustle quietly,” until the Ivorien government totally lifts the lockdown imposed in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“Immediately they do, I will make good hustle and find my way to Nigeria. I have saved CFA 28, 000 now. Lady Jane is still looking for me. She sends her thugs to scour brothels in Abidjan,” she said.

Precious can only imagine what they would do to her, if she ever got caught. Likewise Princess. At The Nation’s first encounter with Princess one month ago, the 14-year-old, had just arrived in Abidjan via the land border. Looking like a fish out of water, she nurtured both innate and outward bruises. Findings revealed that she was raped by a quartet, who paid her madame CFA 100, 000 to lay with her for the night.

They force-fed her with hard drugs and atote, a local aphrodisiac often taken by many of the vagabonds and other patrons. She didn’t know what she was doing.

She blacked out through her ordeal. I was privileged to be around when the pimps brought her back. They slapped her repeatedly to keep her awake as the thugs dragged her inside and dumped her on the floor of her room, revealed Precious, who witnessed the episode.

As I attempted to speak with Princess, she recoiled in fear, and a massive prostitute called First Lady attacked me. She yanked off my glasses and smashed it against the wall, screaming: “Wetin una want? We no dey service Naija men. Make una carry una wahala go!”

‘Police can’t save you’

The Nation authoritatively reports that Princess has fled captivity in Bracody. Her brother, Festus, revealed that he wasn’t aware that she was put to work as a prostitute. The linoleum trader said he got wind of Princess’s situation after reading The Nation’s report.

He said: “I left her in care of Ifeoma, a family friend, who brought her to Abidjan from Nigeria. She told me she was bringing her here to learn a trade but I was surprised to learn that she put her to work as a ‘runs girl’ (prostitute). I shuttled Abidjan and Bamako for my business. Luckily I was around when the story broke out. I was squatting with a friend in Cocody but I became suspicious after I read of the Princess girl in Bracody.

“Although her real name is Ositadinma (meaning ‘It is well from today’), everybody called her Princess because of her beauty…Ifeoma dumped her with Lady Jane after collecting CFA 2 million on her head. Ifeoma’s family is in Burkina Faso. I was able to rescue her with the help of one of her clients, a bus driver in Atteccoube. Ifeoma called me afterwards to ask why I removed Princess from where she was learning ‘hustle.’ I cursed her in anger and she stopped picking my calls. I learnt Lady Jane called to threaten her and request for a refund of her money,” said Festus.

Further findings revealed that asides their fear of the blood oath that they were forced to make by their madames, most of the girls are wary of running away or approaching law enforcers for help.

“Police can’t save you. They work with the madames. I received the worst beating of my life after I told one of my clients, who was a policeman, to help me escape. I thought he would help me but he revealed my secret to my madame and she subsequently enforced stricter measures to prevent us from getting friendly with clients. In my case, I wasn’t free to canvass for clients on my own. She assigned men to me. They paid to her. I was the youngest. They called me fresh meat,” said Princess, in an exclusive WhatsApp voice call with The Nation from her new base in Abidjan.

https://thenationonlineng.net/21st-century-slaves-4-how-we-fled-sex-bondage/amp/

RIP to the dead.
I hope it is not a bomb that caused it.

Child marriage is a crime It must be stopped.

Can you gladly do this for your girlfriend?