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Category Archives: Fiction

Be Nice!!

Be Nice!!

Her head was buried in her book and so she didn’t see him approach her table. All of a sudden a shadow fell on her pages, causing her to raise her head and there he stood. He wasn’t particularly tall, he had a little goatee that looked as though it had been photoshopped onto his face. He was developing a little potbelly that would be a marvel when it matures but looked like a dilapidated yam mound in his tucked in shirt.

‘Do you mind if I share the table with you?’  He inquired,

Sylvia scanned the filled up restaurant as though he was talking to someone else, looked at him and without uttering a word, continued reading. Zee pulled the chair and sat down and signaled the waitress who brought him a menu which he scanned through. Before he placed his order, he looked towards Sylvia and spoke

‘Hi, can I get you something as a token for invading your space?’

Sylvia chuckled coyly, placed a bookmaker inside the page she was reading, placed the book on the table, gently raised her head and looked Zee directly in the eyes

Excuse me gentleman, did I tell you that I can’t afford anything here? Ooooh I look like a beggar to you eerh? Can’t a lady just be by herself without pervs like you bothering them? Mtcheeeew!!!

Zee was taken aback and embarrassed by her response to his request that he only could fake a sheepish smilein order not to respond in an equal measure, after all he was only trying to be nice after sitting at her table. Not wanting to draw more attention to himself from the other customers, Zee asked the waitress to let him know when a space was available so he could move.

For some strange reason there was no space available when the food Zee had ordered for was ready and so he was served at the table he shared with his ‘rude host’. The aroma of the food was so heavenly that it hit every damn nerve in Sylvia’s nose that her stomach rumbled like thunder. Damn if she had just been a little nice she would have had free lunch from this guy but hey the harm had already been done.  She raised her head and she locked eyes with him for a split of a second then she looked towards the entrance of the restaurant and then scanned the room. She then picked her phone from the table and began texting. After a while she let out a soft and muffled rant and a chuckle. Just then the table next to where they were sitting became free and without hesitation, Sylvia moved to it.

Zee couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at the turn of events. He tried to rerun the turn of events in his mind to see where he was at fault to warrant such a reaction from her but he just couldn’t find any.  He was contemplating approaching her when he was leaving the restaurant and dishing her a piece of his mind. He could feel himself begin to get angry. How dare she? She could’ve pushed Gandhi to violence with her acerbic tongue.  Lost in thoughts as he nibbled on the food in his mouth as he poked the one on the plate with his fork, Zee caught her at the corner of her eye getting up to hug a guy that had just walked in. Probably he might be her boyfriend, he thought to himself.  He smiled to himself mischievously and turned to glance at the gentleman who was being served a rant for being late.

Ooooooh shit! It was he’s university best friend and roommate Dan,

‘1bromo-2trichloro- 4ditwsetane’ he exclaimed!!! Dan turned and upon recognizing it was Zee got up and gave him a heavy handshake and hug amidst a volcanic laughter erupting from both of them.

Kwe agbormor when you land wey you no make I know saf? Charley you make fresh paaa ooooh’.

Daniel took a step back and sized Zee up before giving Zee another hug. At this point everyone in the restaurant was staring at the two who were somehow oblivious to the fact that they were loud.

Daniel then turned to Sylvia whose face had turned as pale as the flesh of an unripe mango and said, ‘Cuz, meet my homeboy Zee, the one you said you were dying to meet.’

 

 
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Posted by on June 17, 2017 in Fiction

 

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‘Sofi’- The Uncircumcised Curser

‘Sofi’- The Uncircumcised Curser

When a good man is planted in his grave, he does not germinate into a tree to give shade to his loved ones. Today we stand at this cemetery weeping as we lay to rest one of the realest people I have ever known in my entire life. The choir sings melodious tunes as though they we sent down by God himself as part of his disbelief that my dear friend has passed away. People from far and near have come to pay their homage to this great man. Tributes have been poured forth from mouths like water gashing out of the rock Moses struck in the wilderness. Even the President of the country is right here at the cemetery with us. Cameras are clicking and reporters are scribbling things in their notepads. This is indeed the funeral of a national hero. The priest raises his hand and a dead silence falls on the cemetery. Then with the trowel in his hands, he digs into the earth, pours the dirt on the polished oak wood coffin and says

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.

Well, I’m sure if wishes were horses, my friend ‘Sofi’ would wish his funeral was what I described above. But alas, just six of us are present to lay him to rest. The priest who I had to pay to perform the burial rites, the four young men who are the pallbearers, me and his one-eyed dog that looks like offspring of a bow-legged crossed-eyed bitch and one of her stray and starved lovers.  I met ‘Sofi’ as he’s popularly called throughout the village when I was in Middle School form 2. We were just being ourselves that day in the classroom when this man walks into the classroom. He looked dark and hard bodied like a copra that had its husk peeled off the shell and rubbed with a little bit of palm oil. When his shadow fell on the doorway, it was like a sculptured dark cloud had just been dropped right there. He walked in, scanned the room and walked to the empty desk at the back of the class and sat down without uttering a word. We looked at each other’s faces puzzlingly as though the answer to the question of who he was would pop out from someone’s face.  Then our class teacher entered the class and introduced him as our classmate. As the term progressed he and I became friends. I was the brains and he was the muscle. However he’s association with me had absolutely no effect on his intellectualism as he exhibited during one of our technical skills lessons.  A shovel was drawn on the blackboard and he was asked to identify what tool if was. Without hesitation, he shouted ‘Sofi’ with the confidence of a politician who was sure he had won an election and a smile that was like a piece of roasted yam that was puffed open by heat. The whole class erupted into a laughing zoo and thus, the name Sofi was conferred on him

The pursuit and the desire to make my life a better one took me out of the village whilst Sofi remained but whenever I was in town I made it a point to visit him at his home. Six months before his death, I heard that Sofi had won the lottery. It was said that, on the day he cashed in his win, he had a big party at home and had three fat Billy goats killed and prepared. Laughing gourds of foaming palmwine were order from Agbeko the famous tapper and the famous Minamiwoe wanyo boborbor troupe came to perform.  It is said that even the coronation party of the village chief was no match for Sofi’s party. It was under this party that my friend Sofi laid eyes on Dzidedi and like the saying goes, Wine comes in at the mouth and love comes in at the eye. On my next visit to the village, I was told Sofi was getting ready to be married. Which Sofi?  is it the Sofi I know who avoided women as a plague because his love advances was rejected by the young national service teacher posted to our school when we were in form four? How could a forty-eight year old man want to marry a twenty-two year old girl? Weren’t there more mature single women around? Truth be told, when I met Dzidedi, I was awed as though I had just seen the best magic trick performed. Her gait was rhythmic, her buttocks jiggled like that maracas during a charismatic praise session with each step she took and her breast looked firm like two freshly dug yam mounds laying side by side in the loose blouse she wore. And I told myself I understood why Sofi had fallen in love.

I watched in amazement how she came to sit of Sofi’s laps, played with his greying hair, tickled his ear lobes and both giggled. Instinctively I felt there was something weird about the relationship and when Sofi was seeing me off, I told him how I thought it was not a good idea to get married to Dzidedi. One could virtually see fumes coming out Sofi’s ears and nostrils like the exhaust pipe of Busy Boy’s bone shaker that traveled from the village to Ho twice every week. He accused me of being jealous of his success and progress in life and that I had just proven to him that I was not worthy of his friendship. I apologized to him for poking my nose into his affairs and went home.  And that was the last time I saw or spoke to my friend until I saw him hanging from a nylon rope on the huge mango tree at the entrance of the path that led to the farms.

It is said that, Dzidedi and her young lover duped him of his money under the pretense of helping him invest it in some gold business. Then one afternoon, he caught them in bed and when he confronted them, she ridiculed him publicly by calling him a foolish, impotent uncircumcised bed wetter.   Not able to withstand the laughing-stock he had become in the village, Sofi decided to end his life but not before he had walked stark naked from one end of the village to the other with his huge uncircumcised manhood and drooled scrotal sacs dangling left and right as he rained curses on Dzidedi and her lover saying that even the holiest of waters blessed by the Pope and angels would not render the curses impotent.

 
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Posted by on April 25, 2017 in Fiction

 

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I’m in LOVE with a MARRIED Woman

I’m in LOVE with a MARRIED Woman

If you are reading this, it means two things. One, I need you to understand that there is absolutely nothing you’ll think of me that I have not thought of myself. Two, this might be your truth someday so pay close attention

Now back to the substantive issue. As a child we are taught so many things by our immediate family and people we come in contact with but one of the major things that cannot be taught is how you fall in love and who you fall in love with. So today I’m parading my naked truth through this confessional write up. I’M IN LOVE WITH A MARRIED WOMAN and I want her all to myself. And oooh I made sweet love to her Friday night. Now I am not going to be like the proverbial old lady who blames her walking stick when she falls down so let me just make it clear that I take full responsibilities for my actions and I do not regret it. God knows this is true.

So I met her some five years ago at the mall. She was on a movie date with a friend of mine. As they approached my table at the food court, I could feel my soul drool in love. The black dress she wore enhanced her figure like a magnifying glass. Her calculated steps were so rhythmic that I closed my eyes and nodded to the sound of her footsteps. This my friends, was the first time I had seen a diamond in the flesh.  When we shook hands as we were introduced to one another, I felt a shock wave through my body that made me smile. She also sheepishly smiled back and I was just amazed by her. My friend hooked us up and we became very good friends and talked about everything and nothing. She knew my dreams like they were hers and vice versa. We supported each other through everything that it was clear that were meant to be together. In fact we were in love with each other.  Then she got married.

Was I heartbroken that she was married? Hell no! Don’t get me wrong I have always loved her but you see my love for her is that kind of love that seeks her happiness first whether it is with me or not(You can choose to agree with me or not to I don’t care). All I know is that I was happy that she got married and that was when the relationship between us changed. I became a friend from afar and this worked for us until a month and a half ago. I had stepped out for lunch a few blocks away from my office. As I was about to enter the eatery, I saw a friend’s car at the car park and so I walked towards it and knocked on the windows. He rolled down and shouted my name as he opened the door. We shook hands and burst out into laughter as we insulted each other. Then the passenger door opened and there she was.  She screamed my name and run into my arms. Wow, she looked as beautiful as I remember her. Then after a little chit chat we parted ways.

She called me an hour later and we chatted for thirty minutes. The next day we agreed to have lunch together at a restaurant not far from her office. She was twenty minutes late but I didn’t care. All that mattered was her sitting across the table.  We both ordered, held hands and took turns stroking each other’s hand as we waited for our food. Then she told me how much she was not happy in her marriage and was contemplating a divorce. For about thirty minutes she went on and on about how she wished things were different. About how she felt lonely and lost in the marriage and how each of her trails in the marriage was suffocating her. My heart was broken. I thought she was happy in the marriage. Wow! She was going through all these? We barely touched our food as we were so engrossed in our conversation. Every now and then I would catch people stealing glances at us but we just didn’t care. It got to a point I felt a tear swell under my eye and had to look away so she wouldn’t see it fall. I didn’t want her to think I felt sorry for her. Truth is, silently in my heart I told myself I would do everything possible to make her happy again. Then as though we were set up we both chorused exclamatorily about how we much we missed us. After lunch we decided to walk to her office instead of pick a cab. We held hands as we walked from the restaurant to her office and occasionally giggled because one of us had said something silly. It was fun. I could feel her light up and soar in happiness like a Kongming lantern and my heart felt peaceful. We have been constantly communicating and having regular lunch dates that feel so blissful.

This Friday we both closed from work very early and met up. We first went to her favorite ice cream joint in Osu, We got some ice cream and snacks and we went to my place. We kicked off  our shoes sat on the floor as we watched our favorite movie ‘Brown Sugar’ and ate the ice cream and snacks. Around 7pm we decided that we were going to cook rather than go for dinner at a restaurant. So she changed into one of my t-shirts and we went grocery shopping in the neighborhood. We then decided to walk home than pick a cab home.  We kissed on the street, and people walking by whistled. We were like teenagers who had just fallen in love.  We danced around each other in the kitchen as we cooked dinner and in the course downed a bottle of wine. Dinner was another level of fun. I’m sure my neighbors were wondering whether we were high on something because we giggled throughout dinner. She was happy and so was I. After clearing the dinner table and washing the utensils I left her in the living room to take a shower. Some few minutes later she joined me in the shower and my friends what happened during and after the shower cannot be contained on all the pages of the world.

Dear friends, for the past three years that I have been married to my wife. I had never seen her wake up with the sun rising from her lips. Not even on our honeymoon. Ooooh sorry I forgot to tell you guys earlier that the married woman I’m in love with is my WIFE. Truth is, Love is not just a feeling but also a choice. So I have made the choice to love her and make her happy because she’s made so many sacrifices for me and this marriage. I have also made the choice of seeking her opinion on how to make her happy because a happy wife is a blessing to her husband. I have decide to court my wife as I did before our marriage. I mean treat her like a girlfriend and a wife, take her on dates, buy her gifts, give her attention and be silly with her.  I just one lucky guy to be in love with my best friend. I think there needs to be a verse in the Bible or Koran that states that any man who makes his wife happy will go to heaven.

 
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Posted by on April 2, 2017 in Fiction

 

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The Ugly Duckling

The Ugly Duckling

Aside the new building that had sprang up in place of the mud house that housed his family, the old neighborhood had not experienced any significant changes. The road was still as dusty as always and Castle du Assiam as they called back in the days still sat on top of the hill casting a menacing shadow on the other houses at the foot of the hill. The new paint work made it stand out like the clean shaven head of a big headed child. Memories began to trickle down Kuuku’s mind and all he could let out was a chuckle. As the taxi wiggled itself up the hill like a pepper worm, it’s body began to vibrate due to the bass from the music blurring out of the house. He remembered how he and his seven other siblings in their old but new dresses will line up at the gate of the Assiams during festive seasons to receive gifts of sweets, biscuits and squash from Mrs. Assiam. He had always admired that woman and it was going to be great seeing her again. He just was not sure if she was going to make him out. As kids he remembered always being the bone of contention between Sika and her friends. There were times he even got ganged up on and beaten by her elder brother Jones and his friends just for being around her. One time it got so bad that, his Mother made him promise to stay away from any of the Assiams after he got home with a torn uniform and had two missing front teeth. Up till date he still remembered what she said that night as she nursed his wounds. ‘Kuu, when the lizard and its cousin the gecko decided to have a party a butterfly must avoid attending it no matter how enticing the invite is.’ Secretly he still maintained the friendship with Sika till she left for the UK after primary six and that was eighteen years ago. When he received a friend request from her two years ago on Facebook, he was not sure whether it was actually her. Even after accepting her friend request it would take him another two months to respond to messages she had sent and that was when their friendship rekindled. Over the next year they skyped almost every day with each other, and exchanged tons of messages via whatsapp. It was as though they were trying to cover lost grounds. Gradually his emotions began to gravitate towards love and so he told her how he felt about her. When she told him she couldn’t be with him, he felt sad but grateful that they were still very good friends. Deep in his heart he wished that things would change between them and was willing to be patient for this to happen. Two days ago, he received a phone call from an unknown local number and it was Sika. She said she had just arrived in Ghana and was inviting him for a party at her father’s house that weekend.

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Truth be told Kuuku was not sure whether he was doing the right thing or not. Going to this party meant opening closets he was not ready to open yet but as fate would have it Sika had insisted that he come at all cost because she had something important to tell him. Just as he got out of the taxi a saloon car speed towards him and nearly rammed him into the gate. Then a head pops out from the driver’s side and hauls cusses at him ‘idiot do you think this is your bedroom’. As the car drove past him into the house, Kuuku realized it was Max, the guy who was madly in love with Sika when they were kids. Indeed nothing had changed about his attitude. Smiling coyly to himself Kuuku entered the house and after scanning through the crowd walked to an empty table and sat down. A waiter walked up to him and asked what he cared for. Then a sweet voice gave a response from behind him

‘A mixture of Orange juice and pineapple juice spiced with a shot of vodka will do’ replied Sika to the waiter who was taking Kuuku’s order.

Smiling, Kuuku got up from his chair and hugged her knocking a few glasses off the table. He pulls away from the hug, looks at her from head to toe, signals her to do a three sixty turn and hugs her passionately again

‘God you look so stunning girl. Now I’ve realize how much I have missed you’ he whispered into her ears

Sika was lost in her own world in his arms. He smelled really nice and looked more handsome than she had imagined. Indeed this was the right time to be in his arms. Just then the music went off cutting and blurring out of the speakers was Max’s voice.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Can we now have a speech from the lady of the moment my lovely wife Sika. Sika where are you? We are waiting.’

Wife? Wow! Reality has a way of handing rude awakening to the dreamy ones Kuuku thought to himself. Now everything was making sense. Embarrassed by Max’s attitude, Sika wished the ground would open its mouth and swallow her. What would Kuuku think of her now? As the crowd turned towards her and started clapping, Max rushed to her side and virtually dragged her to the microphone stand. With the microphone now in her hand she looked towards where Kuuku was standing, but he was no longer there. Her heart sunk and her feet began to wobble.

‘Errrm, Ladies and Gentlemen thanks for honoring my invitation. To set the records straight Max is my ex-husband who I think has had a little too much to drink. With that out of the way, Let’s have fun. DJ let the music play.’

Sika dropped the microphone and dashed towards the gate screaming

‘Kuuku! Kuu! Kuuku! Wait! Don’t goooooo…’

Just as she got to the gate she saw a taxi speed off. Overwhelmed by what had happened she broke down in tears. Now she has lost the one true love of her life thanks to Max. Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder she turned and it was Max. She felt like tearing him into pieces and scattering it at the four corners of the earth so that no one could piece him together. There are indeed some devils in one’s life that stick like a shadow.

‘Gosh, please get out of my life. Dear Lord, let this divine representative of stupidity vanish’ she yelled tearfully.

As she walked past him, Max grabbed her arm violently and she flinched in pain, then out of nowhere appeared Kuuku.

‘Charley, let go of her, you are creating a scene’ Kuuku retorted

Sika broke free from Max’s grip and rushed into Kuuku’s arms. Her tears rolled off her beautiful cheeks and hit his chest like pellets from a gun. He could feel a mixture of contradicting emotions emanating from them and somehow felt glad that she indeed had feelings for him that she was no longer willing to hide. Then from nowhere a punch landed squarely on his face from Max. Instinctively he Kuuku also threw a punch in Max’s direction but with Sika stuck in between them, he could not hit the target the way he wanted to. He rushed to Sika’s rescue and virtually picked her from the floor. A small crowd had gathered in front of the house during the scuffle and among them was Mr. Assiam. He signaled Kuuku to bring Sika into the home. As the two love birds walked past him, he smiled. Just then Max made a move towards the house but was stopped by Mr. Assiam.

‘Max, go home! You’ve caused enough mayhem for a night.’ With this said he turned and entered his house.

 
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Posted by on October 30, 2015 in Fiction

 

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OLD SOLDEIR,THE PUNISHER

OLD SOLDEIR,THE PUNISHER

There was a loud hush across the court room as I stepped into the docket to defend myself. I do not remember that last time I smiled, for life had not given me too many chances to do so but here I was smiling sheepishly to the judge as he asked me whether there was anything I had to say before my sentencing since I had opted for no lawyer to defend me during this trail. Aside politicians, lawyers were the next people I loathed with a passion. How they can insist something is white when we all see is as black and still get away with this baffles me. Moreover the more money you have the more convincing your lawyer is and so someone will steal five fingers of plantain and get sentenced to 5 years in prison whilst our politicians steal our monies and go scot free. And so with a little shivery but firm voice these were my words before the sentencing.

‘Your Honor, I can still feel my hand still vibrating from the slap I gave the Member of Parliament on his face that floored him. For some awkward reason the accompanying pain in my knuckles feels sensational. All the anger that has built up within me over the years found an outlet and indeed it was unfortunate that it had to be his face. I can sense the surprise look on your faces but I think it was just the right time to put him in his place. I am old and may not understand your modern ways of life but I will not sit down any longer and see a small boy in the name of politics literally hang the under pants of his mother on a pole, fly it at full mast at the market place with pride, call his father impotent and expect people like me to clap for him. Nonsensical nonsense!! Your honor, pardon my French expression.

Your honor, I have served this country with my sweat and blood. At age 18 I was drafted into the army to go to fight in the world war. My testicles were pinched hard every week for a month to make sure I had no hernia and I was fit for battle before we were shipped of like a tin of sardines. Lives were lost on our way to India by ship and I saw friends’ dead bodies tossed overboard into the sea without paying them homage.

When we got to India, rumours went round among the Indians that we are cannibals, chop people and have tails So when we went to bathe in the streams, people asked us not to take our pants off in case they would be frightened by our tails. I survived all the derogatory names that came as a result of these rumours. In the Burmese jungle there was something we called tiger leech. It’s very small, very thin. If it gets to your body it sucks your blood and get bigger and bigger. So we used a cigarette end or a match on the under of that thing to take its fangs out. But if you don’t do that, but just pull it off, the fangs will stay within your body, rot in your skin and go bad – very bad.’

If you are in a war you forget everything. There was no time to pray. This jungle war was not a child’s play – it was something very dangerous, I have seen friends and acquaintances die with their intestines gushing out as though we are at an abattoir. I have choked on and somehow lost my sense of smell because of my exposure to the stench of burnt decomposing human flesh and lead that tore ones nose away from the freedom of fresh air. Experiencing war makes you a different person. You leave behind every civilian attitude, every gentle attitude that you ever had. You forgot … everything. After the war, they did not let us come home straight away. They gave us two good months, with money, to go to any part of India. It was something to refresh us, to let us come back to a human being. An action I still up till now do not understand.

Your Honor, when I came back, all the remunerations that were to be paid us were never paid. To make matters worse my wife whom I had married before my enlistment left me for Efo Dzidefo the corn mill operator behind the cathedral because she could not stand my screaming at night due to the nightmares. To make myself employable, I worked as a laborer on farms and paid for numerous private teachers to teach me

I have been called hideous names and hear rumours about myself that I knew nothing of and surprises me like a mouse caught in a trap just because of a bait of roasted fish head yet I have never for once reacted violently towards anyone in this community. But alas, your honor, the actions of the MP over the years has become the blisters on the soles of my feet that had dragged patience off my bed. I have seen governments come and go, I have met minister and MPs from different regimes but honestly speaking, the disrespect of this young man who can be my great grandson not only towards me but towards this entire community stinks like the flatulence of a pregnant woman who has had her fair share of boiled beings with egg and washed it down with a snack of ‘wagashi’ and ‘di na ta’ milkshake. Last election he promised to make sure the local LA school was fixed and stocked with the relevant textbook, he promised to make sure the was a scholarship for brilliant students from this village, he promised to fix the road for us and make sure we had good drinking water if we voted him as our MP. Me I do not trust him oooh because aside all the empty promises all he brought to us solicit for our votes was four bars of key soap. Your honor, four bars of keysoap for a community of four hundred people. After he won the elections, ask him when the last time he came here was or whether we have seen the shadows of his promise?

Now that it is time for another election he rides in his big car into this community that breastfed him into who he is, choking us with clouds of dust and comes blinking like a malfunctioning disco watch to solicit for votes.

Your honor if you are working very hard to look after a lean man who says he is a sickling and this man begins to win snoring contests against the plump you at night, then something is wrong somewhere. I do not regret slapping him. At age 88 there are quite a number of thing I regret in life but not slapping the idiot. In fact, If I get the chance again I will slap him or any other politician that takes the citizenry for granted. I am tired of all this nonsense and so your honor If you will sentence me make sure it is to death because at least there I will have my piece of mind.’

 

 

 
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Posted by on December 30, 2014 in Fiction

 

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Agbenorxevi, ‘The Cat’ With Nine Lives

Agbenorxevi, ‘The Cat’ With Nine Lives

As the bus left the terminal in Accra, Agbenorxevi, could not help but wonder whether this trip was going to be his very last one or not. All through the journey he avoided eye contact with any of the other occupants of the eighteen seater bus by hiding his eyes behind his two inches thick tad dark tinted spectacles. Secretly in his heart, he blessed the man who invented them because he could see the eyes of the others when they looked at him yet they couldn’t tell whether he was looking back at them or not. To avoid the temptation of being drawn into any form of conversation, he turned up the full volume of his Walkman, that the lady seated beside him turned twice with an expression that asked whether he wanted to go deaf or was just plainly mad without even speaking those words which he thought was very diplomatic on her side. Somehow he caught her nodding and tapping to the Kojo Antwi tune blurring out of his headphones and this made him smile.

After almost eight years of self-imposed exile, it felt a little bit awkward heading back to Ho, the town in which he had grown up. His history in that town were as huge as the spear heads of giants poking out of the dead bodies of those decayed years that it was impossible for anyone who was new in town not to hear or know a little bit about the exploits of Agbenorxevi. When the bus got to ‘Kponvie’ police barrier, Agbenorxevi’s heart began to beat like the tick tocking of a 1956 malfunctioning omega engine wrist watch and his life in Ho began to roll on the wheel of his thoughts that it felt as though he was reliving it. He could feel his body stiffen as the policeman scanned through the vehicle and stared at him for more seconds than he had stared at the other occupants. He could feel a sting in his conscience that made him nearly surrender himself to the emotions swelling up within him. He knew his goatee and the glasses he wore somehow made him look suspicious but these policemen were used to seeing people dressed like him come from Togo and Niger in search of a better life in Ghana and so felt a little bit secured. Moreover his appearance had changed over the years.

pandillero_color_by_thenota

He was not born with a wooden spoon in my mouth for if that were to be the case it would have been a major blessing and the undoing of all the . He was told his mother was a mentally retarded woman who got impregnated by Mr. Nobody. Not wanting to sound blasphemous though, he could count the number of times as a child he had bragged that aside Jesus Christ, he was the only miracle baby conceived by a virgin mother. The only difference between Jesus and I was that, instead of an angel visiting and informing his mother about conceiving him, it was a shameless and ruthless he-goat of a man who decided to rape her, hence my coming into this world. As he grew older, he realized that his mother gave birth to him in the huge gutter along the market like a goat and died shortly afterwards since she had no one, What even sank Agbenorxevi into the base of self-pity and disillusionment was the fact that his mother’s family wanted nothing to do with a bastard conceived by a lunatic. He was also told that initially he was left in the gutter unattended to so he could die because he was considered an abomination but after six hours of starvation and his defiance to live, some of the youth around the market decided to stone him to death with his crime being that he was conceived by a mad woman. It took the intervention of some catholic nuns who run an orphanage to save him from them.

Growing up at the orphanage was hell on earth, not that he had been to hell before but based on the passion with which the nuns described it to them, a bigger proportion was synonymous to hell. Agbenorxevi experienced at first-hand what real bullying was. His first encounter was when he chanced upon Maxwell the oldest boys at the orphanage smoking ‘sigliku’. At age four he was already the bottom of all jokes and name calling and so catching Maxwell was a plus for him. He tried to blackmail Maxwell by threating to report him to Sister Maria, the no nonsense nun that even the Brother who was the head of the orphanage stutter like the sound of a chain of flatulence let out from a man with severe running stomach. Instead, his threat earned him a bloody mouth and Maxwell accusing him of smoking ‘sigliku’. That evening, Sister Maria made sure extra pepper was added to Agbenorxevi’s soup and one could hear ‘usuuuuuush husssuuuuh’ like the last loud coughs of the engine of the converts corn mill before it comes to a halt. From then onwards every little thing was blamed on him especially by Sister Marie. Sister Marie was very petty in structure but what she lacked in the physical seemed to have multiplied in her character. Among the kids of the orphanage, there was a joke about how Sister Marie could crack open a palm kernel with her buttocks and this translated to her nickname “Bum Nut Cracker”. When she finally got to know guess who she blamed as the orchestrator, Agbenorxevi. It was not as though he was not the culprit some of the things he was accused of, but it just got to a point that trying to prove his innocence was as useless as a gift of chewing stick to a toothless old lady. And so, just as Christians attribute everything evil to the devil, everything that went wrong in the orphanage was attributed to Agbenorxevi and Sister Marie was always there to do justice with her punishment.

At age sixteen he was booted out of the orphanage because he was considered a bad influence on the younger ones and based on the fact that he was standing his grounds. Armed with 7000 cedis that he was given by the other Sisters, he dragged himself with his back pack that contained a pair of Khaki shorts and an over-sized Lacoste he had received the previous year as Christmas present out of the opharnage into an unknown world. And so his life of crime and double crossing began after he was robbed off his personal belongings and was forced to join the notorious ‘Kpetonku’ gang and it was based on his exploits the he was named ‘The Cat’ . A name revered the people in the ghettos within Ho. As the vehicle got closer to the sign post that read ‘Welcome to HO’, Agbenorxevi became conscious of his surroundings, let out a heavy sigh and made the sign of the cross as the vehicle veered into the town. In his heart and mind, he knew only God would save him from what lay before him…

 

 

 
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Posted by on July 15, 2014 in Fiction

 

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News on reactions to Kweku Bonsams’s Confession.

News on reactions to Kweku Bonsams’s Confession.

Barely some 24 hours after the news was broken out worldwide locally acclaimed and now internationally known witch doctor Nana Kweku Bonsam claims responsibility for Ronaldo’s injury problems, the GFA President, Mr. Kwasi Nyantakyi is calling for his refund of 10,000 Ghana cedis he paid for special spiritual backings for the Black Stars of Ghana. According to Alakpanyadzordzor Newspaper’s source at GFA, Mr. Moony Watara, the GFA president is very angry that instead of  injury to more than half of the entire teams playing Ghana at the group stages of the world cup, only one player was picked from the lot to get injured. Meanwhile a section of the Ghanaian populace are asking whether Nana Kweku Bonsam’s spirits  couldn’t do anything positive like the corrective surgery he went for in the USA. One particular man, Efo Komla Ganya who spoke to our reporter said ‘So wouldn’t it have been more profitable if Kweku Bonsam used his ‘powers’ to revive the economy rather than injury Ronaldo? Why if Ronaldo no play the World cup den Ghana go win am? World cup we go chop? Naniama’.

Elsewhere, The Portuguese government is calling on their consulate in Ghana to increase its visa fees by 300% because of Nana Kweku Bonsam’s confession. According to their spokesperson Pepe Lucante, Ronaldo is a Portuguese national asset and injury to him means a toll on their economy and since Ghana is responsible for his injury, It is only prudent that Ghanaian’s pay the price. The Portuguese government has also asked its football federation to petition Fifa to withdraw Ghana for the world cup and ban them for life just as they did to India when the used juju to score Ghana 99 goals to 1 in a friendly some decades ago.

Reports reaching us from the President of Ghana’s office indicates that when his Portuguese counterpart sent a message to complain and expresses his displeasure, the response he got was Daddy Lumba’s current hit song ‘Mentie obiaa’ as a Whatsapp response.We will keep you posted as knew information emerges on this story.

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Posted by on June 5, 2014 in Fiction

 

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My Chronicles 3 (Life of a battered young woman)

My Chronicles 3 (Life of a battered young woman)

PASTOR FRED.

Its crazy how writing about my story with Pastor Fred bothers me a lot but this is a major chapter in my life that I need not over look because at the end of the day, it is my prayer that any of you who finds yourself in this kind of situation will at least know that you are neither the first nor the last to experience this. I have read most of your reactions and I know what most of you feel for me is neither sympathy nor pity. Most of you feel I’m stupid to allow myself go through all these things just like my mother did and there is no way I hold these against you. Somehow, her experiences made her more inclined towards the belief that her problems and my problems in relation to men was more spiritual that psychological hence her decision to introduce to Pastor Fred. Our relationship started out like a lost sheep and a caring shepherd who had found the once priced sheep in the most devastating state and trying everything within his power to restore the sheep to its past glory. With the zeal I was working with in the house of the lord, the Church snatched me up to groom me into a wife, teach me ministry etiquette, and give me face time with my pastor so I could “counsel” with him and make sure my decisions were ran through him before I did anything major in life.

To be frank, Fred was a rock star of a growing church…worshipped by many. He came from a gambling and petty background that fed his appetite for the carnal things according to him. He got “saved” and sought a leadership position and was a very talented guy who rose through the ranks quickly. He was very comfortable in the spotlight and extremely charismatic and he actually seemed like a nice guy on the surface though some have reported he can be a jerk…but so can we all at times. Normally I would not date a baldhead man who had a potbelly, which was competing with his head for attention but getting to know (at least that’s what I thought) him more made his body structure the least of my worries. He has this fashion sense that was on point and very admirable. Most often in my conversations with him, he’d tell me how he felt very blessed and privileged to be ‘saved’ just like certain Bishops and Arch Bishops who had similar backgrounds as his. And most often than not, there was this eternal glow that came from within him and shone in his eyes when he talked about his dream of becoming on of the top Pastors in the country.

Gradually our relationship developed into one of admiration and affection towards each other and since he was not married it felt prudent to start a relationship that will lead to marriage. The initial idea was to practice a no sex before marriage but as ‘body no be firewood’ so we found ourselves shagging left right and center like a maracas in the hands of a charismatic praises leader. At church it was an open secret that Pastor Fred and I were dating and this drew its fair share of admiration and envy but to me this was the life I felt God was preparing me for. Little did I know that there was a huge catch to this when he was exposed hiding behind the veneer that he was something he wasn’t.

It started one Sunday afternoon. I had gone to his place to prepare him lunch and supper as had become the ritual. Half way through preparing the foods I heard a knock on the door. I left everything I was doing, went to open the door only to see an angry looking at the door. When I told her he was not yet back from church after she enquired about his whereabouts, then she half shoved me out of the way as she made her way towards the bedroom. I was confused. Who was this? Was this a family member I did not know? Was this a test to see how humble or rude I was? Ten minutes afterwards Fred came home from church and before I could report to him he speed off to the bedroom. What I saw when I entered the bedroom was indeed more than a shock. Here was Fred on his knees begging the lady for forgiveness and the only response he got were to heavy slaps on both cheeks. When I rushed to defend him, he smacked me on the face and asked that I leave the room. The lady went into the kitchen and dumped all the food I was preparing into the dustbin and walked out. I will later on discover that this was a lady Fred had promised marriage, duped and dumped just two months into our relationship after he verbally assaulted me for coming to his rescue. He called me worthless, stupid, an animal that deserved no mercy and in some instances found a way of even insulting me in his preaching. During mid week service after this incident, told the congregation that the Lord had given him directives that the President of the Youth Ministry, me was to do dry fasting for two weeks in anticipation of a fruitful youth week celebration since as the leader, I needed to be sanctified and holy to lead ‘my people’ during that period.

The straw that broke ‘this camel’s’ back was when he called me an idiot in front of other church members for disagreeing with him on a program line up for the youth ministry of which I was the President. When this was raised at a church leadership meeting he charmed his way out of the truth. In some weird twisted way, the other leaders got sprinkled with fairy dust and it blinded them, and I was deemed as crazy, grabbing for attention, and trying to tear down God’s work.  Certain people who I held in high esteem and confided in them will later on betray me by concocting lies about me to the extent that one Sunday half way through his preaching he stopped and said that the spirit of the lord had directed him to break up with me and also demote me as the president of the youth ministry. According to him there were some ancestral demons that were working through me to bring down the church and that I needed prayers. I was hauled by three strong ushers for the whole church to pray for me when I refused to come forward for prayers when he demanded I do so. After this, I consulted a lawyer friend of mine who agreed to sue Pastor Fred and the church for abuse on my behalf. When the affidavit was served them they went to see my mother to ask me to drop the charges with the promise of reinstating me as a member of the church, president of the youth ministry and fiancée Fred. I found this to be very laughable and told my mother to go tell them that they could offer me the whole world; I would still go ahead to sue them. When the saw that I was not barging, they counter sued me for financial malfeasance and fabricated stories on how I had duped some members of the church. As I write this, the cases are still in court and they do not look like winning anything. Next week I’ll tell you about how everything changed for me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2014 in Fiction

 

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My Chronicles 2 (Life of a battered Young Woman)

My Chronicles 2 (Life of a battered Young Woman)

JAMES.

There are times you need to check the pieces of your life and tick some off as mistakes that should have never occurred and this chapter is one of them. Anytime I think about my relationship with James, I do not know whether to curse him or curse the day I allowed him into my life. I met James during the first half of the first semester of my first year in the University. Now, Ideally he wasn’t the one I wanted to date. I had wanted to date Eric a colleague, but Eric was also interested in Sitso my now best friend. Since I couldn’t have Eric, I decided to make sure that he also didn’t get to date Sitso by telling her lies how Eric had confided in me that the only reason he had befriended her was to get into her pants and dump her later. Up till now I still can’t believe she swallowed it line, hook and sinker because Eric was and is still just an adorable cool, calm and collected guy who would place anyone’s happiness above his when he deeply cared about the person. These days I see how Sitso struggles with her relationships and I wish I just didn’t separate her from Eric. Well, enough of the regrets. Let me continue with the James story. James was a year ahead of us and like any ‘adventurous guy, plunged himself into the whole ‘September rush’ thing. His initial target had swerved him so he fell on his back up plan ‘me’. The initial idea was to drain him of some cash by pretending I was interested because the school fees was expensive and I had to struggle for my upkeep in school. James however unlike me, comes from a well to do home and being the first child and only boy, his parents made sure he had virtually everything he wanted. We were friends for a couple of weeks and then he started taking me out to dinners and social events and out of the blues proposed to me. I told him I needed time to think about it and he agreed to give me time to do so. One day as early as 3:00 the strumming of a guitar outside our door woke my roommate and I up. We looked at each other confused as to who would be playing a guitar right outside our door at that time of the night. Then he began to sing Brandy’s ‘Have you ever’. In all honesty if Brandy had sang the song the way he sang it, it would have made absolutely no sale but the mere fact that he thought of an idea of singing to me at dawn and not caring if he woke up the whole hostel, sent a sweet sensation down my spine. I got out of bed smiling like a lunatic set free from the asylum, unlocked the door and planted a fat kiss on his lips that germinated into a yell of joy that attracted some cusses and insults from sleepy mouths.

The first month of our relationship was like a honeymoon. I was served breakfast in bed and treated like a real lady then it began to the envy of most of my other female colleagues. The sex was great too. I mean the kind that had your toes curl and tingle just by thinking about it. He did know how to make me come in many ways that one. On weekends we will visit his parents or younger sister and boy oooh boy did the love to have me around. During the second month things changed drastically. He warned me about getting close to any other guy at the hostel and that apart from his room I was not to go into any other guy’s room. At first I thought it was a joke but when he refused to eat the supper I had prepared for him but rather dumped it with the plate into the dustbin because he saw me coming out of Eric’s room I knew he was serious. There was this particular night that together with some other guys including Eric, they decided to go out for two parties they had been invited for. Around mid-night the whole hostel was up because on their way to the hostel James had picked a fight with Kwabena saying he suspected Kwabena was flirting with me. It had gotten to that point where if Eric had not practically dragged Kwabena away there was going to be a bout. That was when I discovered that anytime James had some alcohol his mental faculty switched to crazy mood. The next morning he left the hostel without a word to me and I thought he just needed some space to clear his mind. Around noon I was in my room when I heard a drunk James screaming my name on the corridor.

‘Gina Gina your whore, idiot! You think you can play with my heart eeerh? Today I teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.’

I rushed and locked my door. He tried to open the door but when he realized it was lock started banging on it and screaming

‘ Herh! Open this door right now if you do not want more trouble. I break this door oooh! Ashawo!’

I was so embarrassed all I could do was sit on my bed with my head between my thighs and weep. True to his words he broke down the door and with his belt in his hands, he gave me the beating of a lifetime. When he was exhausted. He half picked himself up and left the room. Now I know you are asking yourself whether there was no one apart from us at the hostel. Well there were others there, and they refused to come and stop him because I had stopped talking to most of them when they tried to warn me about James. Later that evening Sitso came from home to visit me. Well I do not know whether someone called to inform her of what James had done to me but one look at me and she decided it would be better if I follow her home so she could take care of me. I ended up spending a week at Sitso place and she advised that I end the relationship with James. When I got back to the hostel, I realized my door had been fixed, my bed sheet and curtains changed and a new laptop on my bed. I knew he was the one who had done all these so I packed everything and sent them to his room. He was out of the hostel and it was only his roommate who was there and so I poured the things on his bed and left him a note that I wanted to have nothing doing with him again.

For the next two weeks he was constantly begging me to forgive him, and that he didn’t know why he did what he did but no amount of begging was going to make me go back. Then he felt sick shortly and got admitted to the hospital and his mother came to plead with me to at least visit him since she suspected he wasn’t getting any better because of me. Out of respect for the mother, I agreed to visit him at the hospital, he said he would kill himself if I leave him, promised to be of great behavior and as it will turn out I found myself in his arms again. Everything was going on well then it got to a time the sex really began to suck. We will caress each other and set the mood, then he will undress me and stare at my body for long and tell me he was not in the mood. There were times he would shove things into my vagina all in the name of us being adventurous sexually and film these. Though I was not really comfortable with all of these, I partook in them all in the name of love and hoping it would revive his sex drive, at least that was what I thought. Then one day, I caught him having sex with another lady in his room. When I confronted him, he said left to him alone, he would not have sex with me because I stink and sealed it off with a sound beating. I cried the whole night and it got to a point I felt my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets and decided he wasn’t worth it. I called his mother to inform her that I had ended the relationship with her son because I could no longer take the abuse and then she came to visit me the next day.

She told me that men will always be men and that if I loved her son, I should stick by him no matter what he does to me because she knew he really loved me. That was when I realized her husband treated her the same way her son was treating me. I apologized to her and told her, I’ve had my fair share of abusive relationships and wanted a man who would treat me right. I told her that her son had filmed some of our sexual escapades and threatened to put them on the internet if I broke up with him but if she really loved her son she would advise him not to try that since there would be dire consequences. With this she stood up hugged me and left. The last time I checked, James is in Australia and married with two kids and has not yet killed himself because I left him. Next week I’ll tell you about Pastor Fred.

 
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Posted by on April 3, 2014 in Fiction

 

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My Chronicles.(Life of a Battered young woman)

My Chronicles.(Life of a Battered young woman)

It must have been the tenth time I had seen her this morning without a black eye. Was this really me?  The image in the mirror really didn’t reflect who I am but well shit happens in relationships and whether strange or not I was always the cesspit tank in most of the relationships I found myself in. I know a lot of you reading this will go all judgmental and say I was just a beautiful idiot (well not your typical beautiful girl that would have guys drooling and professing love to me by saying i was the only mosquito in their net so I should just bite them) and but hey I might even agree with you. But before you go any further than that, at least take your time to read my story and get to know me just a little bit.

Growing up, I had seen how my mother had struggled to take care of my elder brother and I. It was said that she was the most beautiful girl in the nine cluster of villages and what captivated most of the men who came in contact with her was that she had a beautiful brain. Educating girls was not a common thing then and most of the girls who had the chance of going to the village school only went up till standard six before they were married off to either some old man whose sexual libido was as short as a midget on his knees or the son of a rich farmer who wanted a girl form a good home for his son. My mother however was too brilliant to be married off to anyone when she passed her common entrance examination with distinction. Despite my grandfather wanting to marry her off as the sixth wife to Dzivenu the famous hunter of the village, the head teacher put his foot down and decided to sponsor her education at the secondary school level. It was here that she met my father. Because of her beauty that dripped like honey, she attracted her own fair share of bees, ants and houseflies. How she ended up with a cockroach like my father and ended her education, however, was and is something even I, a product of his loins cannot fathom. I was three years old when my father packed his things and left the house after beating mother severely and leaving her with a broken nose  and wounds belt stripes all over her body as though she was a zebra. That was the last time any of us ever heard or saw him. After him my mother was in and out of relationships like a ladle serving soup from a pot till there was nothing left to serve and so she decided to focus her energy on making sure we got the best education with the little income she was making.

Enough about my mother, right? So now let us begin with the chronicles of my love relationships.

DANIEL

I was seventeen when I first had a real boyfriend despite the fact that I had lost my virginity at the age of sixteen. You can say it was my curiosity about my womanhood and the things I had heard from friends that made me do it but hey that is a story to tell another day. Daniel was my elder brother’s mate in school and was more than a frequent visitor to our house. Anytime he was around, he would jump to my defense whenever I had a disagreement with my brother. I liked the way he was always defending me and made it a habit of always getting into some sort of trouble with my brother whenever he was around. Gradually he began visiting the house even when my brother was not around just to spend time with me then one day it happened. He had come around and as carefree as I had always been, I wore a see through blouse and could see him the salivate and his crouch bulge in his trousers like an overgrown boil ready to burst open. He tried to cross his legs to conceal the bulge in his trousers when he realized my eye had glided from his face to there. I turned away and smiled shyly to myself at the thought of him being embarrassed because of a natural reaction. Then I felt someone stand behind me.He held my arms and whispered into my ears.

‘Gina, you are so beautiful and I’m sure you are teasing me on purpose.’

Before I could open my mouth to reply him, his hands had cupped my breasts perfectly like a bra made specifically for them and then he began fondling them. I tried to free my breasts from his grip but his grip on them was very firm that the only defense I had was to bite him hard on the arm, which I did. He let go of my breasts and let out a cry of pain before smacked me hard on the face. I must have blacked out because the next thing I saw when I opened my eyes was him kneeling by my side and begging for forgiveness as he tapped both of my cheeks gently. My swollen eyelids seem almost impossible to open, they hurt so badly. The unmistakable taste in my mouth, a combination of tears and blood made me want to throw up but I couldn’t. What lie was I going to tell mother. She had always warned me about dressing properly with the boys around. Daniel was so visibly shaken and I found myself enjoying what was happening in a weird way. For three whole months after the incident , Daniel avoided our house like a plague and my mother even got suspicious and interrogated intensely like a CIA official on why Daniel no longer visited but I denied any knowledge of any reason. Well in the long run a had to lie to mother about the swollen eye and broken lips and she believed me. Well, that’s what i believe since she asked no further questions. Truth be told, I had to convince myself that the lie was the truth to sound convincing.

My mother had traveled and had left some money for the upkeep of the house and also some money to give to the cloth seller from whom she had bought a cloth on credit bases. When I went to give the money to the cloth seller, I was told she had traveled and would be back after three days. Then just as I left the cloth sellers house, I saw this beautiful pair of slippers that was in vogue. I decided to use the money since Auntie Jane had promised to pay me the money she owes me for doing her laundry for a month. I knew mother was not going to like it but hey, some things just need to be done. So here I was preparing to go out when the cloth seller walked in. I went pale like a rich man’s ghost that had just seen the two by four coffin in which he was buried. Yehowaaah! I had to lie to the woman and promise I would bring her the money later in the evening. Whether I sounded convincing enough for her or not under the circumstances was not something I was sure of but she just said I should make sure I bring her the money. Now, my only problem was where I was going to get the money. I ceased everything I was doing and rushed to Auntie Jane’s place to get the money but she also gave excuses. The only one I know who had that amount of money was Daniel and we were not even talking to each other.

I went home and took my bath and got dressed up. To get this money off Daniel I had to seduce him and so off I went to his house on a mission to get the money. When I got to his house I went to his door and knocked. I could hear shuffling from within the room and so I posed like a by force model trying to impress. His smile disappeared into a smirk when he opened the door and realized it was me.

 ‘What do you want here?’ He inquired without looking into my face.

I walked towards him and the door thinking he would allow me to enter the room but he stood his grounds.

‘Won’t you allow me to come in?’ I asked innocently.

He stared at me for a while and made way for me to enter the room. I made my way to the bed and sat on it. He closed the door and walked to wards me but stopped halfway from where I was. I laughed in my head got up and walked to him. I stood right in front of him and held him by the collar of his shirt.

‘Don’t you know I miss you?’ I asked

All he did was stare down at me with that foolish smirk on his face. I wrapped my hands up in his thick Afro hair and pulled his head down to mine and began to kiss him with such an intensity that when I pulled back, I knew I needed to finish this job quick. I had caught him off guard and the look in his eyes was one of him trying to figure out whether the kiss was a distractive mechanism or I was attracted to him as he was. The next hour would be of us naked as two balls of kenkey without their protection of cornhusk all over each other in a hot steaming sin escapade of sex that could burn down hell itself. After this we lay in bed breathing like a shameless boar after a heat session. Then he looked at me and smiled. The bed sheet was filled with stains of blood from the scratches he had received from me during the session

‘I am usually a control freak when it comes to sex or relationships. I see a woman; I take charge; I have sex, and then I move on. However, with you, you were the first woman who caused me to have sexual erotic fantasies just by seeing your smile’ he said.

I nodded, smiled and ruffled his Afro hair. After lying there for a while I got up and began to dress. He looked and my with his dozy eyes and asked that I stay a little longer, but I told him that I needed to go see whether Auntie Jane was back so see whether she has some laundry to be done for some money. He got up and said I shouldn’t bother and offered me three times the amount I needed which I took gladly. Come on! I know what you are thinking but yeah I didn’t need to make it obvious to him that lured him to have sex with me so I could get money. I was and am no prostitute. Well, technically speaking you can say on this occasion I was.

Later that evening I went to pay off Mother’s debt and went home. From that day onwards Daniel and I became a couple and our parents knew about this. Outwardly we were the coolest couple in the area but the truth was that Daniel was a chronic cheat who couldn’t be cured if all the fetish priests of Dahomey combined their powers. He ended up beating me every time I confronted any of the girls he was cheating on me with until one day my brother chanced upon him beating me up. The fight that emanated from this had him getting two of his ribs broken by my brother and causing the end of our relationship. I however visited him twice when he was healing and had some of the best sex in my life but then he wasn’t for me so I move on with my life. Next week I’ll tell you about James.

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 26, 2014 in Fiction

 

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Wisdom Of The Old Flaccid Breast

Wisdom Of The Old Flaccid Breast

I must have been 6 months old when Mother left for the city because aside her yearly visits, she was a total stranger to me. Indeed Naana, my old fragile grandmother whose skin wrinkles were like the abomasum of a ruminant was the only mother I knew. Though almost in her late seventies she possessed the strength and grace eight of the best young maidens combined in the village did not match up to. Who my father was, is as a mystery as whether elephants have stretch marks or not. Life to me was all about my grandmother and I. It was out of the norm not to find her sitting at her usual spot when I got home from school. This was where I had to go through everything I was taught in school with her. She would first display her golden brown teeth that shined like freshly roasted dry maize in a grin that I can neither describe as a frown nor a smile and then ask me to pull out a stool from the corner of the veranda. Spreading out my exercise books on her laps, we would go through all I was taught at school for the day. For someone who had not gone beyond standard six, her arithmetic and basic English was impeccable, well let’s just say by the standards of a thirteen year old who was now in class three, in a village school my grandmother had a very high IQ.

I do not know whether it was out of fright or just because I expected her to be sitting there when I got back home that made me scream her name as I run across the compound in search of her. I could feel my heart race like that of a little squirrel that had just escaped from the jaws of a starved hound. My ears folded like ‘wele’ as I tried to block the voices in my head that were narrating the possible scenarios playing tricks on my mind like an out of tune church organ. Just as I made the sharp curve towards the goat pen at the back of out hut still screaming her name, I was brought to a halt be when I heard my name from the main compound.  It was Mother’s.  Now my confusion was as conspicuous as that of a newborn baby when the midwives and everyone smiles at it when it comes out of the womb.  Then Nanaa emerged from within the room, her demeanor something I had never seen in my thirteen my life. Her facial wrinkles all of a sudden had become as deep as gullies caused by the tsunami of thoughts and pain that had engulfed the plains of her mind via the reality of me leaving her. In her deep but calm voice she told me she had packed all my things for me and I was to leave with mother to the city that very afternoon. A part of me wanted to be happy that I was going to the city but who was going to keep her company, who would fetch her water and fire wood, for would cut grass for the goats and take care of the fowls?  Without uttering a word I walked to her, hugged her and began to cry. It was the first time in many years that tears had rolled down my cheeks and this time Naana did not ask me to be a man and stop crying. Together we bathed in the tears and the memories of the times we had together. After a while she pulled me away from the hug and held me by the shoulders.

‘ I know you will do well in the city, never forget the things I taught you. Respect people, be kind to them even when the dislike you, learn as much as you can from your failures, fear God, appreciate life and be thankful to God for everything.’ She said.

I opened my mouth to speak but words failed me. My whole body was shivering like a faded and torn Ghana flag hanging on a pole.  Then my grandmother surprised my mother and I. She pulled out her flaccid breasts and pushed her palm kernel looking nipple into my mouth without any warning.  My head was greeted by a heavy knock from her hard knuckles as I pulled my mouth away.

‘Suck my breast’ she commanded.

Afraid of what was to follow if I refused to do as asked I sucked on her breast. After a few seconds she pulled it out of my mouth.

‘How does it taste?’ she asked

‘It has no milk and so all I tasted was my own saliva.’ I replied.

She looked at me and smiled.

“Life is going to offer you opportunities and some of them will have no taste like a non-lactating flaccid breast like mine. You can use your imagination and believe it is giving you the best milk you’ve ever tasted or choose to just taste your own saliva. You are a man and so life expects a lot more from you.’ She held the base of the cloth around her waist and wiped my face with it. Without saying another word she picked her cutlass and basket and left the house.

 

This was twenty years ago. After living with my prostitute mother for five years at Sodom and Gomorrah in Accra, I was kicked out when she discovered my friends and I rob her clients after they patronize her services hence the derail in her business. I served a three-year jail term for selling Indian hemp (this is another story to tell) and it was during my jail term that I decided to do something positive with my life per my grandmother’s last words to me. When I got out of jail, I did manual works as a laborer on farms and construction sights and went into apprenticeship as a plumber. After completing my apprenticeship I decided to work with my Master until I could establish myself. It was during this period that I had met her. She had come to ask my former boss if he could recommend someone to fix the taps at her new place. My boss told her I was the best person to do the job for her and that is how we became friends and eventually got married and now have three lovely children who are doing great and fighting their own demons.

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on December 17, 2013 in Fiction

 

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With Love From Dzelukope

With Love From Dzelukope

My Lorlor,
I’m highly intoxicated with excruciating excitement to write you this letter, as the brightness of the sun has given me this opportunity to be ‘francofactically’ frank with you on an issue that has had my heart throbbing like drums of an agbadza ensemble.
They say a picture tells 1,000 words but when I look at yours all I see are these 3, I Love You. Yes I love you like a ripe hamattarn pawpaw. The one appatipre’s have not discovered yet ooooh. Shiny like a clean shaven albino’s head that has been oiled a little bit.
Sweetie Pie Pie whether it is meat pie, onion pie or tuna pie you are sweet papaaa. I have not tasted your love yet but in my mind it is sweet. See, me, I stare at your lips and fall in love with the way they form what you say when you talk ooooh. Your awirishrish kotomire is very beautiful like my grandmorda’s freshly painted clay  tripod stove. It cooks sweet tickling sensations in my ears laaa.
Yesterday I saw you buying ayi borbor from Aman). Herh! Aman)’s borbor is sweet ooooh. she know the right amount of dzomi to add to make it red like the new version of Yvonne Nelson. Yvonne Nelson 3.4 and couldn’t help thinking how pleasant it will be to be a fart escaping from your gbigorooo that jiggles like a maracas being played during a pentecostal praises session
Hmmm, I spend every waking moment second guessing my decision to write you this letter and right now I am second guessing my second guessing but no worries ok! Cos even if you don’t love me, I can love the two of us for us.
I love you twiiitwiii like yesterday fufu in 3 day old palm soup.

Yours sincerely,
Sincere Lormnava

*Ayi borbor — Boiled beans

* Gbigoroo— Well endowed buttocks

 
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Posted by on October 19, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Judging A Book

Judging A Book

He just couldn’t wait for her to undress. He could actually hear his heart beat to the pulsing of his blood veins like thumping of a Makola mummy’s buttocks to the rhythm of her slow but sure steps. He wasn’t sure whether he should help her out of her clothes or not, well, there is no need to rush for his table has indeed been set. It was a though she was shy but the both knew she wasn’t.  What he was seeing before him would make any sex starved man forget his name and who he was. He had always been fascinated about fair ladies and boy oooh boy tonight was going to be the night…

He was feeling bored and the stress at work was not helping matters at all. The only consolation he had was that it was a Friday and he just couldn’t wait for the day to end. As the time crept like the slow motion effect in Nigerian films he let out a heavy sigh when the giant intimidating clock across his desk indicated 5:30. Just as he was about to step out his neighbor Joe had called to tell him the lights had gone out. Oooooh hooooo! Ecg paaaaaa! With nothing to go and do at home he decided to chill out at Celsbridge.

The room was dimly lit and she was the only person on the dance floor. Her dance moves were flawless it was as though she was having the deepest intimacy with the music blurring out of the speakers. He could virtually hear her groan and moan with the whipping of her hair back and forth in a sensual motion he had never seen. He took his seat at the bar and ordered for three shots of Captain’s Rum and a Red Bull and feels himself get into a trance of wanting her after his third order.  Tired of dancing alone, she makes her way towards the side of the bar where he is seated. He could feel his heart race as that of a rat ready to burst out of it burrow to escape the ‘B3la Boys’ digging. Surprisingly, she the next empty seat next to him,  orders the same drink as his and smile coyly at him. This is the opportunity he had been waiting for. He had never done anything of this sort but tonight his trap was going to catch this ‘B3la’. After introducing himself to her and offering to pay for her drinks, they get chit chatting until he finally tells her he wants her to spend the night with him. As they leave the pub and wander off to his house he giggly whispers into her ears

‘I think I’ve found my day and night. And that’s you!

The lights were still off when they get to his place. After fidgeting with the key in the door lock trying to insert the key into the key hole, the key finally found its mark and voila, the door opened. Still feeling tipsy, they clumsily caress and kiss their way to the bedroom. As they draw closer to the bed she shoves him gently unto it and giggles seductively. Then she began to dance to the melody of the night’s own music, holding him spell bound to the bed. Her silhouette looked intimidatingly beautiful as the moon whose light through the Louvre blades. It was a though he was at a shrine where the clay god had come to life to dance and seduce him and indeed it it were so, he did not want to be saved now. Maybe later.

Her smile could blind a man and cause a blind man to see. She danced her way out of her dress like sea waves set lose but the winds. Just then the lights came back on. he is a little bit taken aback by the woman he saw but well, she wasn’t that bad, then as she turned her back, he lets out a frightful scream and yells,

“ Blood of Jesus! How can you back be this dark and your front fair?”

Damn! he had even said she was indeed his night and day. Now the joke was on him.

Feeling misplaced he storms out of the room with his shirt clutched to his bosom as he gasps for air like an asthmatic patient. Then his father’s words about women hit him in the face as the tipsiness vanished like steam in the air. ‘Never Judge a book by its front cover, the back cover to is equally important.’

 
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Posted by on August 13, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Love Me (Letter for the one who makes my heart PAUSE and BEAT)

Love Me (Letter for the one who makes my heart PAUSE and BEAT)

Mine,

I’m not a person who loves to write letters but as circumstances will have it I believe its high time I write you this letter just to let you know this open secret that is emulating from within my soul. Any average guy will give up on two strong rejections but believe me I have never seen myself as anything average. I recount my earlier attempts to get us to start dating and most importantly I remember the answer you gave me the last time I tried.

You said ‘ I pray you find someone better than me be cause as for me I’m waiting on the Lord to give me directives to the Man I’ll marry‘ Well for your information the is no better person for me than you. To be frank with you it took me seconds to realize that indeed as at then I was not ready to be handed a gem like you and not wanting to be like the proverbial Pig in the Bible who knows not the value of a pearl I withdrew so as to allow god prepare me more adequately for you.

Sweetheart, to be frank with you as I have always been,endurance and resilience are not inherent traits I possess but my association with you has been a more than positive turning point.You words of encouragement and belief in me are things that linger in my soul and push me to be the best I can be.Look we’ve been friends for so long that your opinion matters so much  to me and this you know so well. It is said that the best marriage anyone can have is one with someone who has been a friend for a long time and I believe we can be an epitome of this.

My Love,Every morning I wake up with a huge smile on my face not because I have had a good night sleep but rather just being aware that my heart beats for you.Just the thought of how special you are to me and how i pray for you more than I pray for myself  makes me jealous at times. No one makes me laugh the way you do and no on makes me as angry as you do especially when you don’t answer my calls. Moreover no ones’ encouragement and belief in me can be compared to yours.With you I am and will always be me.I  love you so much that is is more than difficult  just to pin point reasons why my emotions run deep when you are the subject matter.

Sweetness, all I want you to know is that I’m convinced now more than ever that you are indeed the woman I need and must have in my life because I see you continue to grow into the virtuous woman whose praise I want to and will always want to sing as a Husband. You’ve brought so much meaning and purpose to my life that I sleep and wake up with you not just on my mind but  inside every living cell of my body.If I had my own way I will always be by your side every second not just to ease my mind but also to draw more inspiration from you.

You are indeed my world,My life and my Everything.I LOVE YOU form the Depth of my SOUL and HEART.So all I ask is you give us a chance and lets see where the Good Lord will take us to based on our commitment,love and respect for each other and what we share.

Love you like life.

Efo Koku Gator

 
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Posted by on July 12, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (6)

Finding Kuukua (6)

Musa was sitting at a table with some friends and ladies and was passively involved in the conversation happening around the table. Most often than not, he was the one who had ribs cracking at his feast of jokes and sarcasm but he was so lost in his thoughts that even google map wouldn’t be able to help him find where he was for his mind wandered as though it was a lost hunter who was trying to find his bearing but the math just didn’t add up. He had not felt strongly attracted to a woman the way he felt about Kuukua. What he felt for her was so deep that he found himself praying for her more than he did for himself. For two straight days he caught himself day dreaming about her and all the magical things he could or would do to her. His mind could trace the curve of her smile and he was sure if an examination was set on her figure he would pass with distinction. He murmured her name softly and gently as the first taste of fresh palmwine on the tongue early in the morning with a tingle that sent a ‘lorgorligi’ sensation down the spine. Just then she walked in. Even in her black dress she glowed like a thousand stars lined up at the door. From where she was standing, he could taste her on his tongue and his sense of smell of her was sharper than that of a grey hound. Indeed they say whatever will kill you will come as an appetite and this was one lady he was willing to die for but he needed to stay clear of her because he definitely knew Muniru was interested in her as our colonial masters were interested in our gold when the set their foot on our shores.

Kuukua walked straight to the bar and ordered for two shot of tequila and gulped them down in record time and smile at the waiter as she sucked on the lemon that accompanied the drinks. Just then the DJ started playing one of her Lauryn Hill favorites and she danced beautifully in her chair that just like the lyrics of the song people just couldn’t take their eyes off her. It was as though a spot light had been placed on her and she was stuck center stage performing for them. If she had done this dance before King Herod he would have given her his head on a gold platter rather that John which he offered to his daughter

When she finally moved to the dance floor it was a though she was dance itself. Her dance moves were as smooth as a baby’s buttocks and of a celestial beauty that had mouths wide open like pot holes on the roads of Ghana. He body moved like the gentle waves of a calm sea caressing Attaa Nii’s canoe whetting the appetite of his ego for a big catch. With her eyes closed she immersed herself in the melody of the song and just allowed the rhythm to lead her in the dance then she sensed a piercing look in her direction like the arrow shot from Atinga the gateman’s bow hitting a bull’s eye. She opened her eyes gently as scanned the dimly lit room for any familiar face and there he was. Like a god at a banquet with her being the main entertainment attraction. She could feel the passion in his look and she was ready to let him have it just the way she had been dreaming about it. The DJ was on his fifth track now and it was a slow jam. She wished he would walk to the dance floor and ask for a dance but she knew he wouldn’t instead he turned away and started talking to a beautiful girl beside him. Disappointed she was making her way off the dance floor when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and realized it was the guy who winked at her when she was the bar. He leaned towards her ears and said

“Let’s dance”

Kuukua smiled sheepishly at him as he led her to the dance floor and there they became one soul. The dance floor was cleared so they could have space to themselves. They danced so perfectly like the tapestry woven by a master kente weaver that some of the spectators began to have mental orgasms amidst the cheers and applause. Having had enough, Kuukua decided to go have a rest but the gentle man would just not let go of her. He went as far as suggesting that they continue the dance at his place in his bed that when Kuukua declined, he tag firmly to her arm that it hurt. Kuukua tried to push him off but her actions just gingered him on.

“Stop playing hard to get Lady, We both know you want me as I want you.” He screamed at her as he pulled her by the arm towards the exit with Kuukua fighting back like a goat being led to the slaughter house.

The next thing people saw was the gentleman lying and Musa beating the hell out of him like an angry Bukom man who caught his arch enemy stealing his last piece of fish from his pot. It took four strong men to pull Musa off the guy and when the even got him off he was still kicking wildly at the bleeding guy on the floor. All this while Kuukua in shock stood a few feet away from where the beating was taking place crying and screaming at Musa to stop. Outside Musa was still boiling inside like a pot of yam in light soup on fire. He wanted to tear the foolish guy to shreds and didn’t care if he went to jail defending Kuukua. The he dawn on him that he had not even checked to see whether she was okay before he stormed out of the club when he was pulled off the idiot. He walked toward the entrance and there was Kuukua, obviously still shaken from the incident. He stretched his hand towards her, she took hold of it and the both walked towards the car park.  At the car park he took her car key from her and asked her to go sit in the passenger seat and after making sure she was secured, he started the engine and drove off to her house. The journey was as silent as the conversation between kindred spirits in the cemetery. When they we finally at Kuukua’s place, Musa got down form the car and went to open the door for her. He held out his hand for her to hold onto as she alighted from the car. Then he brushed the hair off her forehead making her knee wobble. She held him by the shoulder and looked into his eyes. She could hear his heartbeat sing to the instrumentals of his breath. Her blood boiled with passion as he looked down at her and without thinking she kissed him on the lips gently at first, savoring the taste of his plump dark chocolate lip and strongly

Her lips tasted like none he had kissed before. Her tongue melted all his worries and anger but he needed to stop this before the fire turned really hot and burnt the two of them. He needed to break off because he had lost his breath and believed an asthma attack was about to happen. Just then a car drove past the gate creating the window opportunity for Musa break free from the kiss. Without saying a word he walked away without leaving Kukua to wonder whether she had offended him or not.

Muniru could not believe his eyes, here was the lady he wanted to himself kissing his brother. He suspected that something of this sort was going to happen immediately he received the phone call from his spy about what had transpired at the club. Jeez! He needed to act fast and super fast if he really wanted to have Kuukua all to himself.

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (5)

Finding Kuukua (5)

‘What the hell are you doing Kuu? Are you possessed? Oh my God!’ Kobby exclaimed.

How long had he been standing there? Who cares? What a kill joy he is. Just as she was about to climax, he had to appear like an Easter ghost. Feeling a little bit ashamed that she had been caught in the act, Kuukua got up from the couch and began to put on her nightie.

“What are you doing here?”

She enquired with a pinch of anger and embarrassment in her voice. Without waiting for a response she walked off to the bedroom and changed into a jeans skirt and her favorite cream blouse. The one Adez bought for her when she told her she had popped her cherry. They both had weird things they celebrated and over the years this had actually shaped and deepened their relationship. For instance, when Adez left her rich boyfriend because he was so engrossed with his work and had very little time for her, they had a party and invited some few friends over. She was sure Adez was first going to listen to her with a cloak of sympathy and surprise over her face and then going to tease her when she told her but right now she needed to clear her head and get rid of the tension building up in her. Though Kobby was around she, knew he was a lost cause in helping her fulfill her desire to reach her first orgasm, for it was going to be like using green pepper instead for ‘kpakposhitor’ for a hot steamy pot of palmnut soup with all the right accoutrements. She walked back into the living room and Kobby was sitting on the couch and without saying a word to him she walked to the center table, picked her car key and walked out.

Kuukua drove around town going nowhere in particular until she finally decided it was time for her to go to and have a good dance at the Fantasy Night Club. Maybe a good dosage of dancing would calm her sexual libido down. She needed Adez to come with her so that at least there would be someone to pull her reins when she was going too fast. Among the two of them Adez was the crazy and spontaneous one who did crazy stuffs and later regretted but she was the more reserved kind who thought through things and weighing out her options like bags of cocoa  on a scale before venturing into anything but it seemed that that was not the case today. Kuukua called Adez’s phone like three times yet got no response and told herself that, she might be very busy since it was a Wednesday. So she drove off to the nightclub all alone after leaving a voice message.…

The sounds of the midnight blues had her heart beating, reminiscence of her days she and Kuukua used to dance their hearts out when anyone of them was dealing with an issue. Today’s business was great and she had a lot of old and new customers coming through. Running her own beauty shop was great since she was her own boss and no man would demand for sex before offering her a job. Most of the time she wondered why some men did that and decided it was not worth thinking about since most women would choose and decide which man to sleep with and not the other way round. All her workers had left and it was left with only her. Tonight she was feeling a little naughty and wouldn’t mind getting laid but her regular sex mate was out of town and she was sure Kuukua would be asleep. The music was mesmerizing. She reached under the counter and turned it up until she could feel the bass of the beat pounding through her heart. She went to the front door and switched the display lights off, which with the tinted windows allowed her some privacy.

She turned the front door to lock or so she thought. She had not noticed the door slightly propped open with a pebble. Causing the door to look closed but was actually ajar. The beat had her in a trance like a possessed charismatic church prophetic warrior. The music was just feeling so intense to her, her mind danced with the music and memory of the handsome guy who always was the last to come to her shop before she closed to buy some aloe Vera creams. His eyes lit up when she flirted with him when he came around three weeks ago and that was the last time she saw him. He must have traveled, she thought to herself. His smile with his dimpled cheeks caused her nipples to perk to a tautness the other time and she knew he realized it

With some afforded privacy, since everyone was gone and the beat of the music calling to her to just let loose, Adez did just that. She pulled the jeweled pick out of her long curly hair and swayed her hair from side to side while bent at the waist. She let her fingers run loose in her hair. She turned up and saw her image reflected in one of the mirrors lined up on the wall. With thoughts of that man, her eye popped out like an owl’s at night. The hip outfit she had on was good but for some reason after thinking about the man. She decided it needed to come off. She was in the mood to do something daring tonight. She started by swaying her hips to the music. The words dangerously poured from the speakers,the song was singing to her and she felt dangerous. She was going to strip to the nude and rock her naked body all over the store. Knowing a passerby might be able to catch a small glimpse of her naked body through the dimly lit store as she drew all the blinds.

First off was her top. She wrapped it in each hand and began to rub it back and forth between her legs under her skirt, leaving her in only the black lace bra on top. After several up and down motions with her shirt between her legs, she tossed it off to the floor as though she was a stripper entertaining a group of boys who were raining fifty cedi notes on her. The music had her do a few dance moves with hip popping, finger snapping and head twists. She pulled down her skirt and slid it down slowly with her tight round ass facing to the front end of the store. She let each beat of the music cause her skirt to lower slowly as she bent at the waist. The skirt landed on the floor and she stepped out of it in her heels in just her thong underwear and lace bra. The she did a few more moves to the beat. The beat of the music slowed and then built up fast to a sound of a smack. The song was telling her to smack that. She loved being spanked for arousal of some blood pumping sex. The feel of a strong man’s spank would cause the blood to rush to her clitoris, allowing for a tingling that got her ready for a for some real action which seemed elusive but all the same she was just going to preten and have some great fun

The beat of the music got her thinking of the man from earlier smacking her on the ass. She did a pose and with a twist of her body she bent at the waist, flipped her hair down, and back up fast. She turned again and smacked herself on her ass and the sting of her hand got her blood rushing. She began moving to the music, reached for a fedora hat off a display of hats, and slipped in on her head. She strutted around the shop in only her bra and thong. She made it back behind the counter and swayed her hips from side to side. She clicked the keys on the computer register to start the closing of the sales for the day. A lull between the songs caught her attention when she thought she heard a man clear his voice. Then the next song started up and she went to the second register. Once that one was done, she did a few dance moves to the song and when she popped her head back up, he stood behind the counter with the deepest grin on his face and sparkle so bright in his eyes, she was sure he saw some of it… most of it, or perhaps with the way he was looking at her, he saw all of it.

She grabbed the towel off her the rack nearest to her to cover herself up. The beat of the music kept pumping loud; however, she was sure her heart was pumping louder. How long had he been standing there? Why hadn’t she heard him enter or the chime of the entry to the door? Mostly, why had the front door not locked? He cleared his throat, held out his hand, and practically yelled his name. “Hi, I’m Edem.” Then she realized how loud she must have had the music on. She reached with one hand down under the counter to turn the music down while still trying to cover her cleavage with her other hand. She smiled coyly as the music dropped to a regular volume. He spoke up again as she had not shook his hand that he had offered. “I just got back into town and rushed here to get some of the aleo vera cream before you locked up” He looked deep into her eyes. She bet he was won

She looked into his eyes and realized that her opportunities just grew bigger with the moment. He was attracted to her and there was no doubt she was attracted to him. She stepped up her bravado, tied the towel around her waist, walked out from behind the counter, and walked to the front door. Looking for the culprit that kept the door from locking, she eyed the pebble and kicked it outside to the sidewalk, then closed and locked the door and walked back. He had leaned himself back against the counter and his loose shorts and boxers could not hide what she knew was there. She walked up to him and let her hand travel from his neck to around the front of his chest and down his abs to a light brushing of his crouch. “Nice to meet you.” Just as her hand lifted away from his zipper, she felt a twitch between his legs and she smiled. “I’m Adez.” She eyed him up and down as if he was candy and she wanted to lick his alewa.

He was a shy one. His body was screaming yes but he was leaning against the counter gripping it for dear life now. She knew she would have to take the lead and show this guy how into him she was. She stood and smiled while holding a container of the aloe vera cream she had picked from one of the display stands on the counter. He hadn’t reached for it yet. “How many of these do you want?” she smiled. “you know I can give you more than this right?” She wiggled her waist and pushed up her breasts. The sweat on his forehead let her know he was waiting for that answer as he finally let go of the counter and set his firm large hand on her hip, lowered to one knee and let his hand graze the front of her thong. He looked up into her eyes and she smiled down to him shaping the word ‘yes’ with her mouth.. He looked back up at her as his hands set on either side of her thong. “Take it off.” She instructed him. As she let the clasp of her bra undo and slid it off her breasts and the straps down her arms, the pupils of his eyes enlarged, along with the dimples in his smile. He let the thong slide down the length of her body to the floor and she stepped out of it. Then she slightly stepped her legs apart and laid a hand on his thick lush black hair. When he looked back up into her eyes pleading with their deep bright intensity she spoke with certainty. “I’m willing.”

As if she unleashed him from the bonds that were making him hesitant, he smiled and let his eyes travel from her breasts to her belly to her fountain of sensitivities, which she was sure, was giving off the scent of fuck me now. The sweet gentle brush of his lips on her inner thigh was nice, sweet even. However, she now wanted his tongue-lashing and lapping in her fountain. The intense feeling of his hot tongue on her with the music still beating in the background was erotic. The feel of his thick lush hair in her hand as she felt the motion of his head with each tongue-lashing was intensely surreal. Sex with a gorgeous man was not out of the question for her, but with a complete stranger, it made the whole experience so much more intense. They took turns working on each other’s pleasure points and feeling his naked bare skin against her body sent sensations to every sensual spot in her body. She wanted every inch of him touching her. She wanted him in her; she wanted his fingers and hands touching her everywhere. She opened her mouth slightly and then he let his mouth devour her. She loved the taste of him, the feel of his tongue as he deepened in her mouth. The way his lips tingled against her caused her to want to cum. She let herself moan loudly and let her hands wander over his back and up to his neck. His lips pulled away and he groaned into her neck. The vibrations sent shivers throughout her body causing her to smile. His voice on her skin, when he spoke next to her ear, began warming her skin back up. “I wanted you the second I saw you tonight. How is this possible?”

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes and smiled a wicked smile. “It just is.” She let her fingers run up and down his chiseled chest and enjoyed the way his muscles flinched just a tad from her touch. Then as if a light switch turned on, he went from cautious and gentle, to greedy and hungry. Well she knew how to feed a lion. They both climaxed at the same time and it felt like a a fire set on earth that had caused lightning in the heavens. After he had left, Adez, all bubbly dressed up and headed home. Her phone rang and she picked it up only to realize it was a message from Edem thanking her for a lovely evening. Scrolling through the phone she realized that Kuukua had called her three times and left her a voice message.

 

 

 
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Posted by on April 2, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (4)

Finding Kuukua (4)

Immediately he entered the room Muniru felt the vibe between Kuukua and his brother. Truth be told, he had been tailing Kuukua for a while and wanted to have her all to himself. He had just like a master hunter laid his bait for his prey tactfully and like a lion he was not going let her go to another alpha male no matter  who he was. Not even his own brother for even though blood is thicker than water, hausa koko too is thicker than blood. He had seen the chemistry that was brewing between them. Her eyes glowed and squinted and he could feel her body vibrate to the rhythm of her heart beat that sound like the thumping of a calabash placed upside down on water when Musa held her hand. He wanted her like an obroni need sun lotion to keep his or her skin from tanning. What was he thinking knowing pairing Musa, a gigolo with a beautiful woman on a project without thinking would breed trouble? There were times he wished he was Musa. His brother just had a certain connection with women that was difficult to comprehend. It was as if he left an indelible sweetness on the tongues of their curiosity anytime he approached any woman and they never felt aggrieved when he dumped them. Muniru was sure if King Solomon were alive in this age and time, his brother Musa would have indeed been a worthy foe to the King in the affairs of women.

The meeting was quiet tensed and Kuukua could feel the heat of dislike the two brothers felt for each other. It was as though the sun had been plucked from the skies and placed directly in the conference room. You could virtually see smoke puffing out of Musa’s ears and nostrils like an old chimney at an old mission house when Muniru told him that he needed him to be the subject  for  a  documentary on how gigolo’s operate in Ghana. Saying he was outraged was actually an understatement on how Musa felt as he stormed out of the office, and to make matters worse, Muniru shouted the most ridiculous offers anyone could make to his blood brother. A million Ghana Cedis!

Kuukua wondered whether she had just joined the circus or maybe there were hidden cameras around filming her reaction to the drama unfolding before her and someone would jump out of nowhere and scream that she had was being punked. There was somehow a sexiness to Musa’s anger that made her smile like a shy school girl who was being talked to by her crush to herself. His features were more defined that it felt as though his saucepan belly had been dissolved by the anger like salt sprinkled on steaming kotomire. She found Muniru attractive but Musa was the one who had charmed her and moreover she had vowed never to have anything romantic with her boss and was not going to break her vow.

Once he had sat in his car, Musa burst out into a hysterical laugh. So Muniru was actually interested in Kuukua. He knew his brother like the clouds knew the intensity of the sun’s heat yet just like the clouds he always accommodated him. Well it was good to see his brother had found someone he was interested in but from all indications Kuukua seemed attracted to him rather than Muniru. This was the right opportunity to take his pound of flesh but he was not the revengeful type so he was just going to walk away and be the bigger man though the offer was tempting. He drove off as Kuukua emerged from the building and headed straight home. Had she seen him laughing? So unusual of him, Musa drank pineapple juice that evening instead of his customary chilled bottle of beer that soothed his throat and paved the way for his usual fufu or banku supper. All he could think about was the beauty of Kuukua’s arse in her skirt she wore as she bent over to type on her computer when he entered the conference room. It was as beautiful as two yam mounds created by a Dagaati man ready to receive some yam seeds but it was her calm nature  like palm wine in a well-polished calabash when things got heated between Muniru and himself that swayed him into having a deep respect for her now. He was going to avoid her like a plague.

When Kuukua got home the first person she called was Adez, who despite her busy Wednesday was glad that Kuukua had called. She knew instantaneously that something was bothering her best friend and offered to pass by Kuukua’s place but Kuukua declined with the excuse of Kobby going to be around and though she promised Adez she would call her before she goes to bed so they can talk, she knew Adez could pull a surprise on her by coming over, but who cared? Adez was more than a best friend, she was the sister that came out of friendship and her confidant.  Kuukua changed into a silk robe and decided that it was not necessary to wear panties. She went back to the living room and tried to wrap her head around what had happened earlier on and though Muniru had called her to apologies, all she could think about was Musa. It was a though his image had been hot plated and etched in her memory and wanting to loosen herself she went to fetch the bottle of wine she had bought for Kobby from the fridge and poured out a glass for herself. As she took the first sip she began to wonder why she was drinking alcohol but the sharp sweetness of the wine urge her on with its charm on her tongue and before she realized what was happening to her, she had drank more than half the bottle. The tipsiness she felt made her crave for some hot steamy sex  session that would burn her sweetly and leave her speaking in tongues like a possessed charismatic prayer warrior. She heard a car toot its horn and staggered to the window to see whether it was coming to her house.

The night reflection on her window caught her image of herself, with her piercing reddish eyes and jet-black hair. She wore it just past her shoulder blades in a straight cut. She tossed her head left and right like a model in a hair relaxer television commercial and giggled and how silly it felt to be doing so. She then let her hand slide up her body to her breast. She toyed with her nipple until it was taut. Letting the feel, of her pinch and brush motion tantalize her senses. She let the hand that was on the window tease her other nipple. She played back and forth with grabbing and squeezing her breasts, to pinching her nipples to brushing the palms of her hands over the taunt nipples. It felt so good, so right while she thought of Musa’s sexy angry face.She let her black silk robe slide off her naked body as her hands brought pleasure to her breasts and then slowly slid down between her legs.

The ledge of the tall windows was at just the right height for her to set her naked foot on the ledge. She let one of her hands slide up her body to her neck to rub as the other hand slid between her legs, brushing her palm across her naked fountain of sensitivities. The moisture had already accumulated. Feeling her knees tremble with sweet weakness, Kuukua half dragged herself from the window to the couch and continued to play with herself. She had never done this but with the deep burning sensation of excitement about to erupt from within her,she was not sure she wanted to stop. She had never felt like this during any of her love making sessions with Kobby. She felt her body getting ready to convulse and just then the door opened and all she could do was freeze.

 
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Posted by on March 23, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (3)

Finding Kuukua (3)

He began kissing her neck and ear as he took off her hair clip so her hair falls freely. His hot breathe teasing. She could feel the roughness of his palm as he began rubbing his on the back and insides of her thighs. Surprisingly the friction caused by the rub sent short circuit shocks of pleasure that made her tingle and her toes curl. Soft moans escaped her lips as she moved her legs a little farther apart. He gently slid his hand up to the top of her leg and felt the warmth and moisture she had already accumulated. She felt light headed and dizzy trying to catch her breath.His hand gently massaged over her panties touching the front of her as he dribbled soft kisses on the back of her leg. The amount of pleasure this gave her was so incredible she whimpered out.

“BIZZ – BIZZ – BIZZ” Her hand shot out like a zongo watchman’s arrow from his bow in pursuit of a fowl thief on a rainy dawn to the side and slammed the snooze button on her alarm clock reading six a.m. Stretching to wake up she realized she fell asleep to the steamy image of the man on the cover of her romance novel and her dreams filled with one particular man in mind. A man who could very easily be her mystery man. She turned off her alarm and decided it was going to be a great day and headed to the shower.

In the shower she absent mindedly toyed with the cake of soap and then as she felt the lather she rubbed her body like the models in a Lux television commercial. Even when the soap slipped from her hands and fell on her foot, she continued rubbing herself as though she was under an Ewe and Nzema dreamy spell. She closed her eyes and dreamed of a faceless man who no matter how hard she tried to give a face to, was just faceless. Still dreaming she let the water in the shower run extra hot as it steamed up her body. She let the feel of his imaginary hands run the lathered soap run over and between every space and nook on her body. She had let his hand brush once between her legs over her bald center of sensitivities and she felt the excitement build all over again. His hands fully lathered, both went up to her breasts and toyed with her nipples the way she desired to be handled. She could feel him pinch her nipples and rolled them with his fingers. Then he let the palm of his hands brush across the sensitive nipples and a slight tingling surged through her body that caused her to slip and bump her head against the wall making her feel the physical presence of reality staring down at her in the shower. She didn’t know whether she felt more embarrassed by the fact that she was actually playing with herself or the fact that she had slipped and fallen. Her only consolation though was that there were no other witnesses aside herself. Without thinking she knelt down and murmured ‘Father into your hands I commit myself please deliver me from this sweet evil’…

It had been a long time Musa woke alone in bed and it felt awkwardly sweet when he woke up. He starched his hand and it struck his mobile phone. He picked it up and looked at the time. It was just six o’clock. There was no need to hurry out of bed since the meeting with his brother was scheduled for 10:00 am. He toyed with the idea of whether continue sleeping or get up and prepare for the meeting all the same. He so much wanted to avoid the early morning traffic that normally spanned across the yawn of the old Osu road. Travelling on that route most of the time made him wonder whether government really had a clue of long term planning and executions. Webbed thoughts of why the road was never built as a dual carriage road was something that even Ananse the spider could never figure out. Not really sure of what to do Musa decided to hit the treadmill in the living room yet the only problem was how he was going to drag himself with his saucepan belly to the tread mill without losing focus for the exercise…

Kuukua glanced at her watch as she paced up and down the conference room like an abongo soldier on guard duty. She was informed thirty minutes ago that her boss Muniru wanted to have a meeting with her and another person in the conference room at 10:00am and wanting to create a good impression here she was in the conference room waiting. It was just fifteen minutes to ten and her anxiety of meeting Muniru made her feel sweaty and sticky like glue made from cassava starch. She had the urge to pee but decide against it. She practiced breathing in and out to relax her nerves which had other ideas of their own. She didn’t want to see his face when he entered so she chose a seat which had her back to the doorway.She move over to her lap top and arched herself into a posy stance as she typed…

When Musa entered the conference room her nearly screamed out of delight, and he could do was mutter “wo tu nunu” under his breath. Who was this woman with the figure of a walking guitar that had his heart charmed to her music? Her whole body was a whole orchestra producing sweet musi.c Her legs were well defined like puna yams from Salaga market and her hips we just on point. Just as he was thinking about what to say, she stopped typing and turned around and that was when their eyes lock and the recognition became clear.

Wow! So her mystery man was actually her boss? Today was indeed a good day Kuukua thought to herself. Here in front of her was the man she had fantasized about the whole night and morning. Even in his demin jeans and red stripped long sleeved shirt which had the sleeves folded to his elbow with matching red sneakers on, he looked like a demi god. Whose black sister or daughter had Zeus bedded this time to give birth to such an offspring?  Wanting to speak Kuukua found herself fumbling with her speech like a just cured dumb person at a healing and deliverance crusade.

“I didn’t hear you enter Sir’

She finally said.

“It’s a great honor to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so much about you’

Realizing that she didn’t know who he was, Musa smiled and decided to also play along.

‘Nice to meet you too, do the nice things you’ve heard about me included me entering places unannounced?’ he joked as he stretched his hand for a hand shake to which she obliged and when the lock hands each one of them was fighting his own demon.

Her hands were as soft as fleece from a well-kept Zongo sheep and her fingers were slender and long. He nails we short and neat and look as though they we manicure when indeed they weren’t. His handshake was firm as the faith she had that her day was going to be great. Its texture remaindered her of the man in her dreams or was her imagination playing tricks on her? Both of the lost in their own thoughts, they hadn’t realized that Muniru had walked in and it was not until he let out a fake cough that they left their individual trances.

“So I see you to have met” he said.

‘Not really’ Musa replied.

“Ok then, Kuukuwa, you meet my brother Musa.”

What! He was not Muniru? How foolish could she have been? She was about to say something but decided against it. At the right time she was going to tell him her piece of mind. Musa could feel the intensity of the anger burning in Kuukua and knew she wouldn’t hesitate to put him in his place once she gets the chance but he was ready for this new adventure…

 
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Posted by on March 13, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (2)

Finding Kuukua (2)

Who was that hulk that just drove off shaking his head and smiling at her? As she thought about the crazy things she could do with him, her heart began to race like a city mouse running from a countryside cat. Though she had started working with Focus Eye Productions as a Creative Director for just two months, she had never met the owner Murinu Sherif. She had heard how much of a hulk he was and how a lot of the young ladies fantasied over him like a hungry orphan fantasying over a cup of soaked gari as though it were a meal for Kings. So unusual of her, the gossips about Muniru were tickling her personal fantasies and here she was  milling over a man she had not officially met. A man who she wouldn’t be surprised did not know she existed in the company or that she is working for him, looking at the magnitude of wealth and companies he owned around the city. Was he the man who just drove past her and somehow disappointed her by not insulting her as she expected him to do? Never in a million years did she think that she would be pawning for a man this way. However, something about this man felt right. If he was not her dream man, he definitely could be the best man  to replace Kobby.

That night the slumbering thoughts were not working and the Luther Vandross tunes she was playing from her phone since ECG had decided to put off her lights, which normally would soothe her, felt like they were poking fingers into raw nerves. Getting up to close the window, Kuukua saw her reflection with just enough light coming from her hallway and saw the worry in her face. She smiled at herself, opened her eyes wider and tilted her head just a tad, a happier looking expression shown back. She closed the curtains and thought about sleeping in the nude. As her sleep shirt hit the floor she realized there was just enough cool in the room now from the window being open that being naked made her have to pee.

“Tinkle time.” Talking to herself, she began to giggle on the way into her bathroom. Living on her own and now working alone, lately she found herself constantly talking to herself, aloud and in her head. As if, it was a calming effect on her currently wayward life. If it were not 1 a.m. on a Tuesday, she would call her best friend, Adez, to release some of her worries. Adez had always been there for her since she was a little girl. She was the sister she never had. She helped her through puberty, boys and college, and now she had helped her more than ever when she thought she lost the only man she ever considered a dad. Calling Adez would only put two people out of bed. Two people who worked hard and needed their sleep, besides Adez’s Wednesday’s at her hair salon were the busiest. She would need a darn good reason for waking her up.

Feeling silly, walking from her bathroom to her bed in only her socks, she smiled from deep within. She thought of how it would be if a man were waiting for her in her bed, to welcome her back from her late night rendezvous from the bathroom. How he would pull her naked body close and curve his body to hers, trace her cleavage with his finger, suck her nipples till they become hard and red, tickle her with wet kisses provide warmth and protection with his sweet nonsense and finally enter her gentle, rock her gently as he breathes gently yet intensely against her back and finally they both fall asleep with him still inside her. For now, she would grab an extra pillow, set it next to her stomach while lying on her side and tossing a leg over the end of the pillow. It would have to do for now. Counting sheep, it is. She thought to herself. Starting at sixty, thinking somehow that would give her a head start. A few minutes passed as she counted to herself, envisioning a peaceful place by the lake.

Realizing that counting got her nowhere she wanted to be asleep. She kicked off the comforter; grabbing her sleep shirt, she slid it back on and then the light came back on. She got out of bed and went to switch of the light, then, she slid back into bed and flipped on her reading light. She stretched her arm and scanned blindly underneath the pillow next to her and then she pulled out the new romance book she bought the day before.  Staring at the book cover which had a handsome black man in white briefs with a bulge made Kuukua feel a bit dreamy. Who wouldn’t? The man had strong features, crystal clear eyes, and a sincere smile with a detection of a dimple in his cheeks, strong jaw line and dark curly hair with sun kissed highlights…

Tonight Musa felt a little bit not himself and it was obvious with the way his dance steps not being near anything perfect. An averagely built young man with a pouch of a stomach which he referred to as a saucepan belly, Musa was just the toast for every woman that came his way. He just knew how to treat them right unlike their boyfriends and husbands and one of the things he did so well was never to get emotionally involved with any of the ladies he had an encounter with. He had perfected the act of handling women so much that even the toughest of women just melted in his arms like poki on the tongue. He had seen her walk out of the office and was struck be her beauty. To confirm things for himself he had hurriedly driven after her and his inquisitiveness paid off and yet he didn’t understand why he did what he had done. Here he was with his latest client in his arms on the dance floor with yet his mind kept oscillating like a broken pendulum between what was happening on the dance floor and her face. No woman has had this kind of effect on him he thought to himself. Well, he’ll be lying if he says that. Sitso had him at her finger tips some years ago until she crumpled his world when he caught her in bed with her brother Muniru and since that incident he just treated women like a Daily Graphic newspaper. Never going back to read it again the following day when he could a new edition to read. He hated to see himself a gigolo but in real terms that was what actually was. He glanced at his watch and realized it was 1a.m. Jeez he needed to get out of here for he had a long day ahead of him tomorrow. His brother Muniru had finally decided to ask his help on a documentary project he was contracted to do. Tonight he was not going to go for a marathon and so he led the lady off the dance floor and after she had taken her seat, he excused himself and walked out of the night club.

 
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Posted by on March 11, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (1)

Finding Kuukua (1)

She shined like a freshly rolled kube toffee on display in her coffee cloth tied with expertise around her chest as she walked past them with the pot balanced on her head like the skies holding the sun in its place. Even with just a cloth tied around her chest, she looked like combination of Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks in one on a catwalk when they were in their prime or then again well molded hills of fufu in an beautifully designed asanka with her beauty and grace being the grasscutter, smoked fish, snails, pig feet palmnut soup with every spice in the right proportion poured around the fufu and all the boys could do was whistle under tone, for they were more than dazzled by her beauty. Anyone who sees her walk by would believe that cats learnt to walk like her and not the other way round…

Kuukua always wondered why men always cat called after her but none had the courage to walk to her and express how the felt towards her. Maybe what they felt for her  was not a deep feeling that would propel them or even cause them to jerk forward like a rickety la trotro to confront her. As she shifted the gear lever of her car and pulled out of the parking space towards the main road, her mind began to drift like a calabash on a pond on how much her sex life sucked and how getting laid by another man was very tempting.  Not that she wanted another man in her life but her relationship with Kobby just lacked the kind of spark that she wanted but just couldn’t find. Two weeks ago when he came for the weekend there was nothing special about the lovemaking session they had. It was as stale as an unripe mango on the lips of a city child in the village for the first time for holidays.  Sex was supposed to be fun, at least that’s what most of the romance books she read described the act, unless they were actually lying and indeed she would  be the biggest fool to have believed in them but then again the way the other ladies talked about their sexual experiences just made not believing what this books say so wrong.

She remembers the last but one encounter she had with Kobby. On that day she had gotten home from work very early. She prepared his favorite meal, took a shower and waited for him. Immediately he opened the door she jumped into his arms locking him with her feet as though they we octopus tentacles and hugged him amidst kissing him passionately.  For one she wanted to be a whore for her man but his reaction just deflated her excitement like a puffed buff loaf that had been taken a hard bite on. Well, all hope was not lost she was going to be the steamroller he would never forget.

When they had finally made their way to the bedroom after dinner, she suggested they had a bath together to which Kobby obliged, but all he could think about was how strange Kuukua was behaving. If he hadn’t know her better he would have said she was high on something or yet still bewitched by someone but Kuukua was too much of an angel to do drugs or be bewitched.  Kuukua realized that though Kobby’s hand was on her firm breast he was not even squeezing it. Looking into his eyes, she realized he was lost in his own web of thoughts. After the bath his countenance toward their lovemaking didn’t change. It was the same number of thrusts and him collapsing on top of her as he climaxed. All her work resulted into nothing. She was beginning to believe this was just a formality and being someone who was not really a conformist, things needed to change and change fast but what kind of change was she really ready for?

She was brought back to reality by the honking of the horn of the driver who was behind her. As she made way for him to overtake her, he slowed down right by her and instead of insulting her as she expected him to do, he just smiled at her, shook his head and drove off…..

 
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Posted by on March 8, 2013 in Fiction

 

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