Memoirs of A Repentant Slut 4


I remembered clearly the ‘first’ time I met Jide, it was through Sola, a friend who has a crush on me. Yea! That’s if attraction is the same thing as a crush but who cares for fairies and wishes? I’m for real in Flavour’s voice. Dreams, crushes and wishes when it comes to girl/boy matters are better left for the teens. I’m a grown ass woman; yea right! God bless Black American films.

The first time and countless times I ever met Jide was not as significant as the first day I met him. The first time a woman meets a man is distinctively different from the first day she meets him. I wish I can remember that distinctive moment without remembering Sola.

Sola is a handsome young man, unreserved, very agile, ambitious, and a volatile film person. He was a senior by two years in the university, can’t remember how we met; guess it’s not that distinctive but I know we became close at a point. He’s got good profile for every dream man but I really just couldn’t date him. He’s controlling, domineering and manipulative and I think he has less control over the pendulum in-between his thighs. Sola could be funny even though he makes dry jokes. He has a girlfriend but lies about having one but I never hesitated to throw his lies into his face. He’s a trying liar but he definitely lies to the wrong person. . . I’m a female Carl Lightman but natural as Torres in Lie to me Series. . . I watch too much films right? I know.

Sola and I were close until the day he crossed a huge line.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Seriously, how many times do we have to discuss this? Put your attraction for me under check. All I want for you is to be a good friend and if you don’t want to, the door is as good as wide but kissing or shacking up with a man I’m not dating or seeing is a no-no for me.” I stressed with my voice at the highest pitch.

Who says hookers don’t have standards? Maybe those by the road sides.

“I like you, I’m attracted to you, I love you, I want to date you but we really can’t make it public till I’m sure we are taking this serious.” Sola said.

Lest I forget, Sola enjoys being treated like a baby and you know the worst part, you have to be a strong woman like I am not to fall for his deceptive bedroom voice. Guys do have bedroom voices too you know and when a guy is using that on you, he’s either trying to calm you down for real or trying to get that big bro into that tiny hole. Very manipulative voice! From experience but that’s a red light sweetheart. I deserve better than secrecy but really, do I have to scream into this guy’s ears that I am not willing to go down that road with him not to talk of dating on a low-key?


* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So how have you been?”

Jide’s succulent voice brought my body and soul back to life. If there is anything I love about him, it’s the way he picks his words and the voice lighting up and turning up the air-condition of my body. Jide definitely knows how to make a woman let her guards down.

“I’ve been great. And you?” I replied.

“Obviously doing awesome my dear.”

I saw his eyes flash through my cleavage. I remembered how he kept his eyes glued on my boobs the day he told me he was into me. He obviously still has a crush on those wonderful works of Jah. I chuckled.

“What?” he asked. I guess he was wondering why I chuckled.

“What’s what?” I stressed back with my eyes graciously focused on him.

“Seriously what?” he asked again.

“Really, you want to the what thing? Stop doing that!” I screamed sexily.

Having a woman screamed sexily is one of the greatest enthusiasm guys feel. The more he tried to hide it, the more his eyes increasingly gave him away.

“Stop doing what?” Jide said but this time, more daring as he pouts his face into mine.

“It’s been a while you know. . .” he said.

Jide kept his face into mine for like five minutes and who knows how much he would have stayed till a petrol tanker flashed its red lights and that crazy sound the horn always make.

“You might want to keep your eyes more on the road you know!” I winked at him and he readjusted.

“Hmmmm, never mind me, you always intrigued me anytime. Those eyes, those legs, that face, that brain, that woman! Seriously, it’s just been six months I went away and it feels like I have never met a woman before in my life even though you turned me down till I left.”

“Exactly what I need you to stop! You flirting with me Jide, not nice!” I said.

“And you enjoying every bit!” he replied.

Now I couldn’t hold my laughter. He caught me, I was really enjoying it. I love it when a guy flirts with me especially when it turns out to be someone I like! It’s not only me I guess. Most ladies like it!

Wild thoughts began to run through my mind! Hmmmm, bad girl! The worst thing that could ever happen in this SUV right now is to have that awesome experience! Well, yeah! Amaka tells me about having a sexual affair with a crush she never said yest to and how awesome it always feels shacking up with some you are not exclusive with. . . Many strings attached, less emotions involved! I want to try it some day. I love to try new things you know!

“So where are you off to?” Jide asked, breaking the silence!

“Well. . . Why didn’t you call me to tell me you are around?” I fired back.

“And why should I tell you? . . . ” he said trying to get something out of me.

“Because I know you really do wanna tell me right now.”

Now, that’s me trying to psych him.

“And why would I want to do that?” he said.

“Hmmmmm” I sighed licking my lips.

“Six months, I was away for an advanced course and you never thought it nice enough to call or reach out, even though we weren’t a thing but I did try to make us a thing but for some reasons I don’t know, you kept on turning me down. So, when I came back, which I just did yesterday, I never really thought I was one person you would be interested to see.” He said with so emotions and I can feel it.

“Awwww. . . I’m sorry but really you could have tried and see what my reaction would be but seriously, I do wanna see you!”

I couldn’t believe I just said that.

“Really?” he asked eagerly.

“Yea. . . but don’t blush.”

“I won’t. . . lol.”


* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Leave me alone! You hurting me!”

I was screaming loud, hitting him and was sobbing but he never gave a damn.

I remembered the day Sola molested me. He never slept with me but he rumpled with my body. I remembered getting tired of hitting him that I just laid there at a point and allowed him have his way till he gets tired if he ever does!

We just finished sharing a nice meal of roasted plantain popularly referred to as boli with groundnut and a bottle of coke and I guessed he mixed his with an half bottle of ‘Osomo’. I got busy surfing the net and Sola began getting cozy with his mouth to my ears like a dog licking another dog’s ear wound. I told him to stop; he did and later on continued and this time, he was like a beast. . . like I’ve never seen him before.

He was voraciously eating my ears like a dessert; his hands on my breasts; then his mouth. I couldn’t take it anymore! I screamed silently sobbing. He stopped and went silent like an alcoholic trying to be sober.

I stood up, fixed my hair with my hands and I took my bag to leave.

“I’m really sorry. I’m not like this. I just really like you, you know and I missed you!”

I was silent. It felt stupid hearing a guy I was never having an affair with talking about missing me like as if we’ve been sleeping with each other or touring each other’s bodies. Some guys are beasts and it so sad have met more beasts than a cooing rabbit in a lifetime.

“At least if you must leave, can you wait while I get you something to comb your hair?”

I wasn’t angry, in fact, I couldn’t place what I was feeling; whether annoyance, hate or anger. The truth is, a guy who can harass or molest, can rape and hell be let loosed if someone ever claims this guy can’t rape!

He went in with my bag as a security measure for me not leaving by the time he returned. I took the brush, ran it through my weave, he continued to apologize till I took my leave.

He called my phone endlessly, sending texts but who cares for an apology over a cloth that has been rumpled after all there’s no light to iron it. . . How I wished he had tried it with Amaka, he’d have been in the ‘market’ by now. Mad girl!

All things being said, no grudges or unforgiveness harboured but that was the last day I was going to speak to him




Memoirs of A Repentant Slut 3


It’s been a while I felt a sharp-thrusting in between my thighs like I did yesterday night. I remember clearly the surprise and disdain widely capitalized on Amaka’s face the day I told her I wanted to stay off sex for a while but who would have thought I was going to break my 6 months old celibacy with Papa Seun’s ‘divine sword’!

Papa Seun isn’t my type but seriously, how many ladies with a voracious sex appetite like mine considers who or who is not a type when on heat? Mtcheew! Most times, we end up having random sex with people we never thought we could have it with. Well, not ‘we’, maybe just me!

Sitting at the edge of the bed and ruminating over it all, I caught Papa Seun stealing glances at me as if it were some agile man winking at a sexy female bartender. I shook my head unbelievably at what I just rode powerfully without an energy drink. Yorubas must be definitely right about sex and foul spirits. . . There’s nothing enticing about this man on my bed but I just screwed him or did he screw me?

I hate to remember the ugly details of my ‘sexcapades’ but this one just keeps clicking for no reason. The thought of

EIt’s been a while I felt a sharp-thrusting in between my thighs like I did yesterday night. I remember clearly the surprise and disdain widely capitalized on Amaka’s face the day I told her I wanted to stay off sex for a while but who would have thought I was going to break my 6 months old celibacy with Papa Seun’s ‘divine sword’!


Papa Seun isn’t my type but seriously, how many ladies with a voracious sex appetite like mine considers who or who is not a type when on heat? Mtcheew! Most times, we end up having random sex with people we never thought we could have it with. Well, not ‘we’, maybe just me!


Sitting at the edge of the bed and ruminating over it all, I caught Papa Seun stealing glances at me as if it were some agile man winking at a sexy female bartender. I shook my head unbelievably at what I just rode powerfully without an energy drink. Yorubas must be definitely right about sex and foul spirits. . . There’s nothing enticing about this man on my bed but I just screwed him or did he screw me?

I hate to remember the ugly details of my ‘sexcapades’ but this one just keeps clicking for no reason. The thought of Eliza flashed through my mind. Obviously, that girl must definitely have an eye defect maybe color blindness. It wasn’t Amaka with Papa Seun but do I even need to spell it out that it was me? I go iron that girl mouth one day.

It’s 8.30am, I adjusted the  curtains to peep through the courtyard. It was as silent as a grave yard except for the small kids running around in their nakedness. That’s my cue, Papa Seun can now leave my room as everybody has gone about their daily jobs including the likes of Mama Seun who never takes her bath and the nosy Eliza who sees the wrong person.

“Papa Seun, come and start going o” I said silently.

Who dares struggle with a mad man, you never know if he has lost his teeth or if they are still very much sharp.

“Shey time don reach to go ni? Abeg make we do one round join na”

“E be like say something dey worry you o! No be only one round, na four”

“Nothing spoil na. I am ready for you. You sef know say I be man na. I dey hear your moans of pleasure yesterday o!”

“Papa Seun, e don do o! I go call you when I come aus for evening.”

I supported him to the door with my hands pushing him forward. Who go see free meal and no go wan pitch tent for there? I actually just lied about seeing him in the evening. We definitely won’t get to see.

I locked the door after him and I hit the showers. I removed my clothes, staring at the mirror; I stared at myself. Who says nakedness isn’t a good sight to behold. I firmly cupped my boobs with my hands, I smiled at how perky they still remain even though there were days when they were lot perkier than that.

The water sprinkled down my body, and it was so soothing and sweet but as it runs over my face, the memories of the night keeps flooding in. Papa Seun is indeed a man; little wonder why Mama Seun can never let go or behave as if he’s not missing. No woman ever likes to share her man’s goody sacs with another. And that was the only good thing about Papa Seun. Everything physical about the man was boring except that!

He’s 5ft tall, that’s how I managed to stay on top. He’s ugly but educated, Primary Six School Leaving Certificate; lol at least that’s what he said! The worst part is he’s got protruding tummy. How can someone of that body size be nursing a tummy and a whole me just devoured that piece of bread, ‘Konji’ must really be a bastard!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Ojota! Ojota! Ojota!”

Loud voices and bad breaths equals to some Agberos!

With my on point figure 8 firmly enclosed in a Denim trouser and a long-sleeved crop top, my hair tied into buns and my legs rocking a black sandal Amaka got me from Dubai, I waited by the road for an Oshodi bus with a small travelling bag and an handbag in my hand.

The early morning sun was beginning to take a peep at me and I was impatiently tired of waiting till an exotic car slowed down beside me. It was Jide, my ex!

Memoirs of A Repentant Slut 2


. . . And there I stood, it wasn’t a dream. It was me staring into the bulging faces of Mama Seun and the beautiful ‘gbeboruns’ of No. 5 pretentiously referred to as neighbours. Staring at each other, we were both lost for words for few minutes. The meeting was so awkward and it was first of its kind in the history of my co-tenancy with Mama Seun.

“Omo ilu mi, ma binu jare, na only you dey house?” Finally some words!

I made a prolonged silent hiss motivated by anger and frustration. My anger towards Mama Seun for spoiling my morning and sabotaging my sleep wasn’t a small one after all, it seemed like I wasn’t the one she was looking for.

“Mama Seun, na only me dey house, wetin happen na?” I asked with a stern in my voice and a grin at the likes of Eliza, Mama Titi and Papa Chinyere; the clueless neighbours at my doorstep.

“I dey go work o Mama Seun, wetin happen na. Answer the babe o.”

Mtcheeeew! Yeye neighbour, I felt like smacking his head. Old man sha wan talk so tey him no sabi say na weekend we dey, abi person dey go work for weekend? Maybe e dey work for mortuary, who knows!

I let it stride without expanding the comment made by Papa Chinyere so it won’t become a distraction for Mama Seun to jump into.

Papa Chinyere is one of my best neighbours in the compound. Maybe I like him because of his head sha. Bald-headed men trips me especially those with pot-belly; it somehow makes it interesting you know; and my one wish ever since I got my apartment at No. 5 was to get my hands on Papa Chinyere’s head whichever way even if it has to be the best way I know how to. I must before I leave the compound.

“Ma binu jare omo ilu mi.” Mama Seun’s response cut my imaginations short and threw me back into the reality of the moment. The woman can ‘famz’ for Africa.

The ‘omo ilu mi’ ish is what always makes me tired of her. We both happened to share the same State and Town; the only thing we never shared was our Local Government Areas. She is from the South part, while I came from the North part and we just weren’t really close but she never ceases to maximize any opportunity she has with me to flaunt the fact that we came from the same state as if it was some Dubai visa.

“I know say you go don vex since, no vex abeg. I no know say na you dey house na.” Mama Seun continued

“So you no even know who dey house before you started shouting and screaming our names to come help you join in your matter?” Mama Titi added facing Mama Seun.

“Abi o Mama Titi. Me dey waka go my room o abi na wetin?” Papa Chinyere turned to go.

“Come make we help them settle this matter na. Papa Chinyere! Come back abi na wetin sef? Na only you waka come here? Shoo!. . .”

“Ehn, Mama Titi, e don do abeg. No start another matter for my doorstep. Only you and Eliza don do to settle why Mama Seun dey bang my room early momo.” I lashed out facing each of them at a pause in utterance.

“Sebi I don tell you say make you no vex na. Ma binu simi, we no fit fight na.”

“I no vex o Mama Seun but who you con dey find?” I replied.

“Na Amaka”

‘Hehehehehehehe’. I laughed weirdly. Somehow, her response threw me off balance. Where con be the boiling point of ‘a proper madman’ and ‘an occasional madman’? Maybe at the point of insanity sha.

“Amaka no dey o. My babe has travelled since yesterday and I don’t think Amaka would be coming back anytime soon.” I gushed out.

“Itumo?”Mama Seunsked eagerly in Yoruba.

“Wetin happen sef Mama Seun? I screamed the words at her; I was already running out of patience but I couldn’t help but pity. . . A typical local Yoruba wife looking for her man!

“Well, Mama Seun, the itumo be say, Amaka ti travel, ‘mi o mo igba to ma wa’ or better still, ‘ko wa mo’. I emphasized.

The only time I speak my mother tongue is when I’m being frustrated or loosing my patience with someone; but really is that the only time I should express myself in my mother tongue? But who cares anyways, I hate when you have to repeat something all over and over again. Only God knows where  common sense has gone to in this country with some people!

“Well, e be like say you go gimme her number o because I dey find my husband.”

Now, I couldn’t contain my laughter anymore. Amaka and Baba Seun? I really don’t seem to understand.

“But Mama Seun, shey you and Amaka don dey share your husband ni because I don’t understand what Amaka or Amaka’s number has to do with your husband?”

“Me I sabi wetin I dey talk o plus God save her say I no meet her for house and help me tell her say if she like herself, make she no come back to this compound again o!”

Now, I was really beginning to laugh real hard. Mama Seun na ‘were’ (madwoman) but her madness no reach Amaka own. We both know she’s just bluffing. Somehow I seemed lost in her conversation, and the next minute, I was really feeling like I was in control of the whole situation.

“Abeg, shey your husband dey miss ni abi wetin. Fill me in na, Mama Seun, na me o, your omo ilu?” . . . I was beginning to enjoy the whole scenario now.

“Wo, leave me jare. The last time I saw my husband was yesterday morning before I go drop Seun for school and when I came back late in the evening from my outings, I couldn’t find my husband. I asked everyone, checked everywhere till Eliza told me that the last time she saw my husband was with Amaka. E for even better at least; na the way she saw them gave me concern.”

Choi! Eliza the ‘loose’ girl. When I said she is loose, that’s what I meant. Loosed-mouth everywhere. She is the type you have to be secretive with or else, ‘your own don done for Africa.’

“How she con talk say she see them o, Mama Seun?” I asked

“Sebi Eliza sef dey here na, oya talk na.” Mama Titi interfered facing Eliza with seriousness written all over her face.

“Erm! Erm! Erm!. . .”

Hehehehehehehehe, that was Eliza stammering. Mama Titi and Mama Seun were wondering about the reason for her sudden slow in speech and were pressuring her to talk but ‘sebi na only sane person go sabi why insane man dey chop savage on top refuse dump.’ Indirectly, I sabi wetin dey make Eliza stammer. Eliza no wan chop another dose of me, but whether convenient or no, Eliza just have to talk o. Mama Seun won’t allow her not to and I won’t allow her to miss my dose either!

“Erm, Erm, I saw Aunty Amaka putting a measurement tape around Baba Seun’s thing.!”

“Ah! Lobatan o!” Mama Titi screamed

“Which one con be thing na, you better talk well well.” Mama Seun screamed.

“Erm, I mean say, Aunty Amaka was measuring Baba Seun’s thing.” Eliza said, making gestural descriptions.

“Was she holding it or how she dey take measure am?”

“Errrm! E don do o Mama Titi!” I lashed out. The woman too like male anatomy but people don’t see it because Mama Titi gets to hide it well under her ‘spirikoko’ attitude but as Amaka dey take talk am, “Na one robber fit identify the other.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the whole scenario. Baba Seun isn’t Amaka’s type. Maybe whatever they were doing was misunderstood by Eliza and that one sef go hear am from me.

“Well, Mama Seun, I would try and reach Amaka for you because her number is presently not available and whatever that was Eliza saw, I’m sure she misunderstood it.”

“Okay o! Sha warn the stupid girl for me, make e no go chop poison one day.”

Mama Seun hissed and left. Wow! I just had a comic morning of my life. I just lied to Mama Seun about Amaka’s number not reachable but seriously what would Mama Seun have said to Amaka if I had given the number to her? Well, na Mama Seun sabi o!

I entered my room to an annoying sound like a grunting of the pig! Yeah right! That was a man snoring on my bed; yet he has no potbelly and less fat, except for the thing in-between his legs. Been there, done well! Lol!

“Bebe, come to bed now!”

“Thought you still sleeping?”

What kind of man snores and yet he is awake? I murmured to myself.

“Been awake since jare! What was that about?”

“Your wife is such a raging bitch you know. . .”

Memoirs of A Repentant Slut 1

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Memoirs of A Repentant Slut

Come out now o! I no dey follow u play o! which kain nonsense be dis na?” “O o ni jade abi (you won’t come out now abi), ashawo, you don overchop dis time o! ‘Amuofia come out na o, ehn ehn!” Mama Seun was shouting at the top of her voice and banging the door at the same time. . . Sometimes, I wonder what type of microphone is rooted in the woman’s oesophagus. It was just 5.00a.m. in the morning; God knows that my sleep had been murdered; chai! Abi which kain gobe be this one on Saturday morning?

I wasn’t lost in my thought that much when the iron hand and microphone-pitched voice of Mama Seun threw me back into reality. “Were, so o ni bo o de ni? (madwoman, won’t you come out) ‘Onyiara’, ‘Onyiochi’ . . . Papa Sola o! Mama Titi, Ada, Eliza! Make una come out o. . .” she continued to rant. Walking hastily to my door, I was full of laughter to the brim, this woman will not finish me for this compound. “Wetin eyes never see sef. . .? that’s my mind calming me; but wait o, “this smells bad, this one wey Mama Seun don dey alert everyone wey dey No. 5. . .” my other mind was warning me. . . but seriously who cares? I haven’t done anything to be worried for.

Mama Seun’s heavy fist landed on my door again; I held the door knob, trying to open the door but God knows that my mind was long gone, one minute I am feigning ‘wetin she go do’, the other minute, I’m f**king scared and I don’t know which of the feelings is real but something tells me that na the fear real pass. “Shey if I no open the door, she go kill me? she go just frustrate commot na ni” I murmured to myself. Mama Seun is not one to be toyed with and ever since I became a tenant at No. 5, I have made it a point of duty to always stay in my own lane. I chuckled; “what’s so funny babe?” I said to myself. Nothing much really; (na me dey ask, na me dey answer). Anyways, I just remembered one of my real goons, a brother soon to blow in the music industry wey be say na only shikini time remain, his name is Bragadosa. That’s not his real name though, that’s one of his songs title, but that’s what I call him. He always says “na my lane I dey o”; very funny, but that slogan had kept my relationship with Mama Seun at a sane level. Where should I even start from?

Mama Seun’s body structure can make Aki and Pawpaw piss for body if dem try nonsense. She’s black not dark, heavily built, 6.3ft tall with a broad chest that always make me wonder each time I see her, if she be gym instructor in her past life. She’s big from her chest side to the waist line, then from her waist, she con slim no be small. . . I can’t remember what body figure Amaka gave her body but I know say the figure number no dey this world. . . The worst part is she has small tits, like the size of fruit; the biggest size a fruit tree seed can ever be. Why do they even call that thing fruit sef? I chop that thing tire when I small, even till undergraduate days. After I don chop am finish, I go carry heavy stone to break it and eat the groundnut inside it.

Hmmm (I sighed), Mama Seun’s tits can be small but she unbelievably fed four kids with that small thing. Choi! I don miss Amaka o, that girl na proper ‘were’, she can lampoon Mama Seun’s tits like crazy. She go talk say, “wetin Papa Seun dey hold sef?” and na true talk; the man hand big no be small, one hand is as wide as a plantain leaf. It can couple me and Amaka’s boobs together and the hand go still get space and no be fruit tits o! Proper B and C cups. . .
Hmmm, I lifted up my eyes and caught the clock, it was already 5.30a.m., Mama Seun still dey shout for there; na she sabi, na when I wan open my door, I go open am. Walking back briskly into the room, Mama Seun’s voice began to intensify, she wasn’t the only one screaming this time, I could hear murmurings from neighbours. One voice that was distinct enough was Eliza’s. That girl can ‘gbeborun’ for Africa; I’m so sure she would be the first person to come out on Mama Seun’s call.

Eliza and Mama Seun na 5 and 6; always together tending to their daily businesses, and guess what that is, gossiping of course. Me and Mama Seun would have been the closest neighbour at No. 5 but me being me, I don’t mix with ‘hybrids’, I do pure ‘werewolves’ or pure ‘vampires’ only; too much vampire diaries and supernaturals. Elizabeth turned Eliza, thanks to people like Mama Seun. Elizabeth is too ‘tush’ to pronounce, but Eliza is more Nigerian for her. I almost beat that babe one day, but na ‘tori’ for another day. Eliza already grew to like the way she’s being called. Wetin the yeye girl sabi before; ‘all eyes on me’ and ‘olasanmi’ no be the same thing?

Eliza is a Senior Secondary School 3 student, she is Igbo, born only but bred in our area, she is popularly referred to as ‘Mama Seun’s Igbo Teacher’. Yea right; she is the one who teaches Mama Seun all her sickened Igbo insults she’s been vomiting since morning except that she is a good teacher and Mama Seun na terrible and poor student. Eliza is a black beauty, she’s sharp, intelligent, 5.7ft tall, slim but proportionally ‘hipful’ with a rounded perky breast which she flaunts about in transparent clothes without a girdle to hold them. She always reminds me of my young self back in the days. Her only defect is that she’s highly ‘loose.’

Lifting up my head from where I was seated, the clock sounded and then it dawned on me that it was 7.00a.m. already. I definitely have places to go to today and Mama Seun that I know would never retreat until I surrender. I decided to brace up to the fate at my doorstep, I walked smartly to the door in my hot night-wear, my hands on the door knob with an attempt to unlock it and there it was, I just did


Memoirs Of A Moron

img_2984A girl and a young man who was anxious to fall in love. And as such our character met his girl. The minute he set eyes on her, all he could think of was dating her. He was so much in love with the girl. He did his research. He blabbered to his friends about her and got teased. He made up his mind. He had to date her. A number of IMs, phone calls and web pages later, he found out about the department of the girl, got her blackberry pin, and her twitter handle. She was a smart one. The type that aced the class, she had natural prowess with the books. Wale started “setting P”.

He added her on his BBM and after answering all the expected “where did u get my pin and so on” questions, Wale became close friends with the girl. He checked on her every day they became BBM buddies. The feelings reciprocated. The girl began to fall in love. And then He figured it was time for him to make his big move.

Unfortunately for him, when he asked her out, the girl had a trip to Togo and the guy was going to London. So the girl asked the boy to follow her to Togo to talk about his proposal. The boy totally loved the girl with all his heart and he could forfeit anything for her. He agreed to go to Togo with her.

She agreed to date him concluding that for him to forfeit his trip for her then the love must be real. They started dating. She was very intelligent and didn’t want to date anyone less so she started asking him about his grades. He knew she was a smart girl and wouldn’t want to date anyone less so he told her that he had high grades. I bet she actually said in her mind this is the right guy. Was he? They started dating. It was going on fine. They started calling themselves pet names. Both of them being Yoruba indigenes their pet names were “Ayanfemi and Ololufemi”.

The relationship was still going on fine until when she got to find out some things about him.  She found out that her bf was a liar not an ordinary one but a deadly one. He lies about everything. The girl became to doubt if the guy speaks the truth at all. She found out that her bf wasn’t as smart as she was told. Guess because of the love she had for him, when he told her about his grades she didn’t have to find out about his grades.

She called him and said she wanted to see him that night. They met that night and she still really angry with him. She didn’t give him a chance to greet her before she started spilling everything with annoyance. I doubt if the guy heard anything she said but I’m very sure he heard when she said ‘I AM DONE WITH YOU WALE’. She couldn’t trust him no more. So she thought it best to get out from the relationship.

When he heard that he was shocked and dumbfounded for a while. But as a chronic liar and deceiver an idea popped into his head. Immediately he fell down on his knees and started crying. He was putting on a straight and serious face. She tried not to look at him so she wouldn’t pity him but she couldn’t resist she was totally in love with the guy.

She pulled him up from his knees, sat him down and she also sat down. They were both in silence for a while but she decided to break the silence. She asked him why he lied to her. Immediately he broke into tears again and she started begging him to stop crying. Wale was about to do his thing again. Deceive the world.

She asked him why he was crying then wale started his story with a sad face. He started with a rhetorical question. Do u think I’m happy as I lied to you? It wasn’t my fault. I’m not dumb. He said this time last year my grades were high I was very intelligent. I was sick for a while and when I went to the hospital the doctor said I will need to have a kidney transplant.

My parents didn’t agree on this so we didn’t do it last year. I came back to school. I couldn’t face my studies all I could think of was the operation. I didn’t want to do it but it kept on disturbing me. I couldn’t read and that’s how my grades began to drop. Wale had to perfect the lies. So as he was saying his stories he broke in tears again. She held his hands and said ‘My Love please stop crying’. She wiped the tears off his face and Wale continued with his stories. My grades fell drastically and I couldn’t pick them up again no matter how hard I try.

She had pity on him and said you should have told me this earlier on. Wale responded in a sober voice I didn’t know how to tell you and I also didn’t want to bug you with my problems. All I needed to find was love and that was when you came around. Wale stop saying that, she responded. Your problems are my problems. We are in it together. I love u Wale’ *

Wale smiled. She started apologizing for everything she has said and wale kept on saying ‘it’s okay dear; I’m the one at fault’. She kissed Wale and bid him goodbye. Wale escorted her to her hostel and walked back to his hostel feeling like a boss.

That night, she called him several times to check on him and make sure he was okay. Wale was so happy not knowing it was still going to bounce back. Their relationship was going on smoothly until one Sunday afternoon when Wale’s phone ringed with the normal Wizkid’s ‘dance for me’ ringtone.

Wale danced small and stretched to get his phone, checked who was calling and it was ‘Ayanfemi’ that was how wale stored Biodun’s name on his phone. Wale cleared his throat and picked his call. The conversation started with wale saying ‘hey love, the talked talked and talked laughed laughed and laughed, until one moment when ‘Ayanfemi’ asked him a question that he will prefer to be dead than answer the question.

She asked him about his kidney transplant and the operation. Wale was shocked. He didn’t know what to say but all he knew was that he had to say something.

He told her that he went to see his doctor that he said he had to go on with the operation and the transplant. He even asked her if she could give him a kidney. She was shocked and dumbfounded. She didn’t talk. They ended the conversation. Wale didn’t know what to do again. After like 2weeks he called her and told her to forget about donating kidney that he had seen someone that will donate for him.

He told her that he was going for the operation the following week that she should pray for him. Biodun really loved Wale. She was so bothered about him. She kept on praying for him and crying at different occasions. She cried almost every time because she couldn’t imagine the love of her life dead. Next week came and went. Biodun decided to go and see him after he told her that he had survived the operation and he was okay.

He thought Biodun will have forgotten about the operation and will only ask questions about how the operation.  He didn’t know she was going to ask more. She got to Wale’s house, she cooked for him, and she was taking care of him believing he was someone that survived an operation and needed serious attention. They ate in silence until when she decided to break the silence and ask him about his surgery.

Wale kept on his game because he knew he couldn’t quit. In a calm voice he said “We Thank God”. After they finished eating, Biodun asked him to show her the mark of the operation. “GHEN GHEN GHEN GHEN”. There is a problem. Wale didn’t know what to do, he started shaking and sweating profusely. He didn’t know what to do. Biodun asked him again thinking he didn’t hear the first time. Wale couldn’t do anything.

The smart boy ran out of ideas. Wow!!! Karma is a Bitch. Wale was trapped. All his lies had to end that moment. He had to speak the truth. Wale decided to man up and tell her the truth. He told her that he didn’t go through any surgery that he lied.

Biodun was mesmerized. She was lost. She had been living in lies all this while. Her relationship was a lie. Even wale is lie. She was sad and disappointed. She left wale’s house in tears. She had been deceived and thrown around like a fool. She was upset, thwarted, disillusioned. She ended the relationship with wale that day and wasn’t ready to listen to any explanation. She found it hard to believe any boy.

Wale started sending people to beg her, but she refused. She was played. She believed wale could kill. That was how wale jeopardized the love someone had for him for lies.




Strapped heels, lacy corsets, g-strings, nude bras and perfumed bodies, all part of what was going to be the embodiment of the clubs tonight. Tara looked at her face in the mirror over and over again as she tried to figure out if the dark blue mascara and blush hid the shadow in her eyes. Her brown lipstick made her already pouty lips more defined and lustrous. She pictured the men staring in a mixture of awe and hormonal urges. Of course they would! She checked her purse for ids, cash, car keys and condoms. She sprayed one last splash of perfume when her phone rang.


“Tara… why haven’t you been picking my calls?”

“Long time no talk to you too Ishaya.”

“Well it wouldn’t be so if you picked up my calls”

“I don’t have time for this…”

“Are you at home? Am coming over…”

“You don’t wanna do that…”

“You are at home aren’t you?”

“Don’t come over…”

The line went dead. She held up her hands in anger. Quickly fumbling her phone and perfume into her purse, she turned off the lights and ran out of her apartment.

“Me definitely not at home tonight” she said as she locked her door.

Her heart beat in cold denseness as she pulled out into the highway, swearing and muttering under her breath: “Men, you give them a centimeter and they want to go the whole ten yards.” She felt very pent up at the red lights. It was a two four-way intersection with cars streaming seamlessly into the night. She pictured him driving down to her apartment in a hurry, hoping to find her there. She smiled to herself; he’d definitely not want anything to do with her after tonight. The thought of that gave her a surreal sense of satisfaction, more like an eagle after feeding its children a fat slab of snake corpse. She delighted at her freedom of emancipation. It definitely had been a while. She felt so choked and boxed up under him. “Tara go here… Tara do this… Tara NO!” Who the hell did he think he was?

She smiled as she pulled up into the parking lot across form posh nightclub. The line was long. She stood there basking in the October fall wind as it brushed against her face. Her jet-black hair swayed along. Ten minutes of this made her walk to the front and pay to skip the line. The bouncer at the door smiled at her. A sign of good luck, she regarded. When she entered, her heart melted away. She headed straight for the bar and got a strawberry martini, a starter to get the night going. As she sipped on and stared around the bar, she spotted the man she wanted to take home. He was tall and dark. Not so handsome or easy on the eyes. His facial features were prominent, especially his mouth. She didn’t mind. He was good enough. A quick glance at him, another longer shy glance and then a slight turn in his direction with her eye on him as she drank, and he was heading her way. She quickly garbled the last of the martini down her throat and made her way to the dance floor. The man target followed suit.

She began to sway her hips and move her feet to the rhythm. He followed her hip movement and quietly grabbed her around the waist. She was surprised but pleased. She thought it would take longer. As the music continued, they danced longer and closer to each other, until finally he asked her name:

“Naomi…” she replied

“OP” he replied. She was pleased. He obviously knew what he was doing.

Dancing moved into grinding as she moved harder on him and he held her tighter. He had begun nibbling her ear. She turned to face him and whispered into his ear to go out. She lead, he followed suit. When they were outside, she asked if he brought a car. He said no. She smiled. They took her car. As she drove, they could not keep their hands of each other, thighs, and arms and all. She pulled out a cigarette. He lighted it for her. She drew and poofed.

“Benson and hedges I see” he said to her. She passed it onto him. He took a long draw.

When they pulled up to her driveway, Ishaya’s car was parked across the street. Her parlor lights were on. He was in there and she knew that. She began kissing OP at the door as they walked in. Ishaya stood in across from them as they entered. Op stopped when he noticed Ishaya. She continued. On sensing Ishaya, she tuned around to him. He had murder in his eyes.

“Yooo meeehhhnnnn I didn’t know she had a man…” OP started. He didn’t want to be shot tonight.

“You should have asked before you followed a woman home.” On that, OP turned around and left. Tara simply locked the door after him.

“Couldn’t you have just told me it wasn’t working instead of bringing another man home.” She started clapping her hands in delight

“Bingo you are catching up… guess the phone call trick didn’t work so well now did it?”

“Tara what have I done to deserve this?” his eyes went dark in anger and resentment and shame boiling though his loins.

“You want too much Ishaya… you want too much…”

“But isn’t that what everyone wants? A family? Is that too much to ask the woman I love?” she stared at him in disgust: “Well not this person here” she retorted back.

He started away from her and headed towards the door. He dropped a key on the floor as he went past her: “Here are your apartment keys. You will never hear from me again.”

She locked the door after him and said “thankyou…” when she was alone.

She turned around and stared into the room. All the frustration suddenly came rushing back. She tried to fight it, but her cold heart could not fight back. She broke down and began to sob violently.

FORBIDDEN LOVE 26 – Grand Finale


As scared as I was, I told the truth. I told her from the beginning to the end. The first time I was raped by uncle Sam to what had been going on between us. She couldn’t believe her ears after I stopped talking.

“Mesomma, tell me this is not true. Ewo oooo. Ewo ooo. Àrù  (abomination in igbo language). How can Samuel do this? Ahh Samuel! ị na-adịghị egwu Chineke (Samuel, you don’t have the fear of God in igbo language)” I watched as my aunt cried while lamenting. She was an older sister to uncle Sam who were both from my paternal side. My mum had no sibling so I had no aunts or uncles from my maternal side.

My aunt could only shed tears. Now that uncle Sam was dead, it was too late. Too late to prevent all that already happened. I kept mute and watch my aunt cry in pain.

The next minute, aunty Jennifer walked in. She entered and met aunty Mary crying so she asked what happened. Nothing could come out of our mouths. Aunty Mary suddenly stopped crying, looked up at aunty Jennifer and said;

“Sam is responsible for Meso’s pregnancy.”

“Which Sam?” She asked looking confused and when none of us could speak, she got very angry.

“You’re telling me Samuel, my husband, impregnated Mesomma ehh aunty?” She said looking at aunty Mary, then glanced at me before bursting into tears. She immediately left the room and aunty Mary followed her behind I guess trying to calm her down. My heart was racing; I don’t know why. I wanted to just be dead that moment. Things were going to get worse, I knew that for sure.

A week later, I was discharged from the hospital. Aunty Mary had spoken to me concerning my pregnancy and moving to Port Harcourt with her. Nobody spoke plenty about my pregnancy even relatives that visited me during my stay at the hospital. There were times they spoke to me about certain things and spoke in private amongst themselves but nobody ever mentioned uncle Sam. I didn’t even see aunty Jennifer after that day at the hospital. Everyone now knew that uncle Sam was the father of my unborn child which was regarded as foul, an abominable act. Many couldn’t believe it and some even denied him as a relative and friend. You could tell from their faces and behavior that they were all disappointed in both of us. I saw it coming so I always tried to hide my face from the shame. I was never beaten or anything but I was counselled several times. Things were definitely not the same again.

A month after, I was already in Port Harcourt with my aunt, her family, and Esther. One night, she called me and spoke to me concerning everything that had and was happening. She said she knew nobody spoke about uncle Sam because of what he did and that she was very disappointed in him but she was disappointed in me too. She said she wasn’t saying it to make me feel bad but to know how she really feels because I could have prevented a lot of things. She looks at my tummy and says;

“Meso, this wouldn’t have been so. You are just a baby having baby. It’s not right and as much as I don’t want to mention this, your parents would have wanted better. There’s no need to start feeling guilty or sad hmm Meso! ị na- ege ntị?(are you listening in igbo language).” I nod when she says this even though tears were already appearing in my eyes before she continues. “…Life has to move on. Ama m na ị nwere isi (I know that you have sense in igbo language) but my dear you have to be careful. You’re just a fourteen years old, a child. I know that things will change and become different. People will talk and say what is more than their mouth. You will see things differently but all is not what it seems. Always remember that you have an elder sister who looks up to you. You are older than Chinyere and Ijeoma (two of my cousins who are her children) who also look up to you as an older sister. Please, Meso. Try to do what is best. Confide in me if you need help and I’ll always be there for you. ị nugo (Have you heard?)” These words stuck to my head like a magnet.

After we spoke for a while, we heard the bell ring. I thanked my aunt before going to see who was at the door. “Good evening sir,” I said, opening the door to pastor Francis. He was the pastor from the church my aunt attended. He was told about my situation and I had been counselled by him several times. He opened my eyes to the things I wished I had seen earlier. He told me that God had forgiven me as long as my heart was fully repented. I used to feel different and ashamed to do anything or even go to church with my aunt and her family but later on, it became the least of my problem. Pastor Francis counselled me that day as usual and asked about my well being before leaving.

After about 7 months of ups and downs, I gave birth to my babies. The night of my labor was not a good one for me. I had just gotten dressed after taking a bath when my water broke. Luckily, everyone was at home that day so they managed to rush me to the nearest hospital. For two and a half hours, I was in labor. The most painful state I had ever been. I almost gave up because I couldn’t bear the pain neither could I breathe properly. I managed to survive the whole process and delivered my twin boys. They looked very adorable but I felt a bit sad. I hadn’t planned to have children for my uncle neither did I plan on being a mother at fourteen but even with all the sadness, my babies gave me happiness because they were innocent. With the days and times that past, my relatives, especially my aunt helped me with all they could. I was helped in looking after the babies and assisted in doing a lot of things. I even started school a few months later. It wasn’t very easy with my babies but I managed. Sometimes, I looked at Esther and thought of what she might think of me and the stigma that I may have caused but because she only showed me love and care, I could only try to be happy. I promised myself to be a better person. To try my possible best to give good examples and slowly erase the bad even though damage had already been done. Many a times, I heard gossips about me but ignored it as much as I could. My aunt was a very strong pillar in my life. A woman of virtue who taught me about the things I now know. She went through a lot because of me and I just couldn’t thank her enough. Life moved on and I lived everyday with the way it was presented.

One day, I came across Daniel who was my school father back at the school I attended in Lagos. I saw him at the university of Port Harcourt. I had gone to hand something to my uncle, aunty Mary’s husband who worked as a professor there. He was the one who saw me first and called out to me. I remember having mixed emotions when seeing him. I wasn’t sure if I was to be happy or sad or angry. It was just strange seeing him after a very long time. He looked really different. He kept a nice hair cut with a well-trimmed beard. He certainly didn’t look like the boy of yesterday. I mean this was about three years ago since the last time I saw him. He gave me an awkward hug and smiled at me for a while before speaking up. He asked so many questions from where I had been, what had happened and when I arrived Port Harcourt. I only told him that I had moved and started a new life after the death of my parents. He showed his condolence and made a joke in order to ease the tension that already formed in the air. He told me that he had just recently arrived Port Harcourt to continue his higher education. I didn’t tell him about my babies nor uncle Sam. I avoided anything leading to questions I wasn’t ready to answer. I spoke to him about a few other things before letting him know that I was on an errand. He asked for my contact but I couldn’t give him any because I didn’t have at the moment so the last thing he said to me before I left in a hurry was; “I’ll see you some other time, Meso. Take care.”

Many times I had cried to God, tears of thanksgiving because he had given me a second chance. Yes! I was abused by a man who was supposed to be my uncle but I had also given him the opportunity to do the many things that he did to me. I was manipulated, deluded and abused but because I was blinded by what I thought to be love at such a young age, I put myself at risk and caused a lot for myself. Even when I was raped by this same man, I still let him into my life because I believed he would slowly heal the wounds that he had caused me. I gave myself to a perverted man who used me to fulfill his own pleasure. The many lies that then, seemed like they were genuine. I used to look at him like a father, a good-hearted uncle, a loving and caring man because he in the past, was always there for me, my family and had good intentions. I didn’t know what went wrong and the unexpected happened. If he was still alive, the nonsense could have continued and maybe things would have gotten out of hands. Each time I look at my babies, I remember the day a mistake began. I remember the man whose own relatives didn’t want to remember. I think and think of the many explanations I would give to my babies but each time I hold them close to my chest, they remind me of the second chance I obtained and I never cease to thank God.


Thanks for reading Forbidden Love and pardoning my mistakes. I  truly appreciate your time.

Forbidden Love Review

Mesomma who was nicknamed Meso was a young adolescent who fell into the wrong hands. Exposed to many things and deceived at such a young age. She falls in love with a man who is supposed to be her uncle and who she thought was the fatherly, caring and loving man. Uncle Sam like she normally refers to him was a man of deceit and a man full of his own self. He uses Meso as one of his tools for pleasure as he was a man who never saw his own mistakes. He pretended to Meso just like the way he did to the many girls he was with even at the same time he was defiling Meso. And then marries a woman in order to keep a respectable status. A young girl corrupted and abused because society was blinded, actions were misinterpreted, prevention was avoided and intentions were acted upon

Thoughts on Forbidden Love

I hope this story has in a way positively affected you like the way I was while writing it . I actually came across a lot of things and even became aware myself of the many things that I have previously ignored. Even though this story is of fictional characters, it only reveals a tip of the iceberg because I know for certain that much worse things have happened. I only hope that as much as you enjoyed reading the story to the end, you not only read it to pass time, fulfill leisure purposes but also learned a few things and became much more aware of the things happening in our society.


Thank you once again for reading. I appreciate your time, patience and encouragements.