M.O.T.I.V.E.S Episode 5 – @UnenAmeji

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10 days to public holiday! Swearing in a new government or not, a break is always welcomed.

And yes, we have got Episode 5 of M.O.T.I.V.E.S By @UnenAmeji

Read all Previous Episodes Here

Episode 5
*****

“The new faction, Al Sahaba al-Islami, the terrorist group has taken responsibility for the bomb blast that took the lives of 105 people, leaving 126 people critically injured. It has been confirmed that Mr. Tamiyu Samson, Minister of Information representing the President, ex-leaders and President Abdulrasak Abubakar, Gana Itunu Konamu and Shola Ige Adebowale are among the dead while businessman Wole Jim, Governor Tashimu Kolo and Reuben Yakubu are in critical condition. Minister of Power and Transport, Hauwa Babale and Abdulahi A. Abdulahi are said to be recovering in the National hospital. This tragedy has been firmly condemned by the presidency in the strongest of terms and the President has vowed to bring this deadly group to their knees. The new group said that their action was in line with their earlier message to the Government. In a video released last month, they had demanded that the Government change the constitution of the Federal Republic to recognize the Sharia law which in effect means the country becomes an Islamic State. They had threatened the execution of statesmen in and out of office should the Government pay no heed. The mastermind, Aminu Hussein Waziri is on the run but other members of the deadly gang are now in custody of the state security service. Investigations are ongoing and the special adviser to the President on security, Ramsey Igoh has assured Nigerians of the commitment of the administration to ensure security of lives and properties. ‘These attacks will be stopped and these killers will not escape justice’ he is quoted to have said at the briefing with security chiefs. Meanwhile, the Federal Government has begun compensation of living relatives of the victims. Analysts say this new faction is politically-oriented and controlled by organized body with ties to International terrorist group, ISAS. However, this has not been confirmed by the State Department of Security. My name is Gbenga Ololade, reporting for NNTA” the articulate reporter rounded up his report as Charity who sat at her desk in her lingerie took her remote control to reduce the volume of the television.
It has been three weeks since the incidence and two weeks after the last email from her client Naomi telling her to forestall actions as against earlier instruction. It has also been two weeks of constant chat and teasing. It started as a joke after he called to report that there had been a bomb blast and his intention to forget about getting the inheritance money he humorously referred to as JRS – Jumbo Retirement Savings. The intrusive WhatsApp messages followed after and then it turned erotic until she had stopped it and refused picking Victor’s insistent calls. He had sent couple of messages after to reinforce his decision to forgo the JRS and Charity understood his fear but he was not in the position to determine if he wanted it or not. Naomi had her by the balls and there was no escaping the soft spoken blackmailer. She simply couldn’t afford to lose her grandmother who was in the custody of the woman.
Mama J, as she fondly called her grandmother, had been diagnosed with acute case of renal tubular acidosis. Late detection had caused her kidney to fail and the expensive weekly dialysis took all of Charity’s savings. She began borrowing funds from her friends and almost gave up hope before the call came.
The job was simple – sort out inheritance issues. It was the ideal standard request Charity got every other day but this time, the fee was suspiciously too good to be true but she needed the money and she believed in a miraculous God. The money however wasn’t enough to cover the new cost of keeping her Mama J alive. Naomi offered to take Mama J to India for the surgery, all-expense paid. How Naomi knew about her ailing grandmother did not occur to Charity at the time for Charity would have sold her dignity to see her Mama J smile one more day; and was grateful for yet another wondrous act of God. It wasn’t until Mama J reached India before the job description was given. She was to go against the big icon, Badmus Bello. A firm of one? she had asked herself.
This was a feat that she knew was above her competence and told Naomi there was no way she could deliver. Naomi, after successful transplant, took Mama J from the hospital to a location that was kept away from her. It was old school kidnap, only Mama J didn’t know she was kidnapped or in danger. She was alive but in captivity. Another heartache for Charity.
“This was not the deal” she complained after she was told she could only talk to her grandmother once a day when an unknown number would call her.
“You should focus on getting the job done. Your grandmother is in good hands” the soft spoken blackmailer had stated firmly but calmly.
Mama J, 59, was indeed doing fine. She sounded excited all the time now, recounting stories of places she had been, continuously praising her caretakers and asking for a visit from her dear Charity. At the end of every call, Charity’s heart broke and she cried for the position she found herself. There was only one option, give Naomi what she wanted. So no, it was not in Victor’s place to accept or reject his inheritance. Her grandmother’s life was at stake and nothing was going to stop her from getting her back.
Just then her phone rang.
“Hello” she said into the phone with a small smile. It was her latest admirer, as he called himself.
“It is Victor” he announced almost in a growl.
“I know” she smiled imagining the look on his face, his thick brows in knots, eyes piercing and lips tight in annoyance. She had watched as her gate-man turned him back few days ago but she knew she couldn’t afford to let her feelings get in the way. She was thinking too much about him lately and that was not good for the focus his blackmailing mother asked her to have. Why would she even consider a younger man whose father murdered hers and whose mother was blackmailing her and holding her grandmother hostage? She needed an intervention.
“I suppose you have been busy” he said looking at his reflection in the wooden mirror hanging askew on his wall and rubbing his beard that needed shaving. He wanted to hear her voice, wanted to argue with her, watch her sharp mouth curve in a sardonic smile and her eyes light up with amusement. He was way too interested in her and he wondered why he found her attractive. His dead iconic father had killed hers, there was no way she would be interested in him.
“Yes, I have” she lied, she had been sitting around waiting for an email from his mother.
“I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be pushing for the inheritance” he said for a lack of what to say. He had called but didn’t expect that she’d pick up. He couldn’t tell her the reason he called was because he simply wanted to hear her voice or see her.
“It is not in your hands” she said tersely, hating herself for the position she found herself.
“What do you mean?” he asked, biting his lower lips in annoyance.
“I mean you don’t have a say in it”
“You do realize that Bello was blown up, even in death. Someone hates him more than you do” he tried a dry joke.
“Trust me, that is not the issue” she said, a sad smile playing on her lips.
“I would like to know what the issue is” he pressed imagining her in her bikini. He really should stop.
“I can’t say at the moment. You should stop by the office if you really want to know. We have to go over a new document from your mother” she lied, biting her tongue at the invite. She shouldn’t be inviting him to her house. She knew what was going to happen and she was going to let it.
“I will be there” he said, smiling before ending the call.
He would make her and his mother understand that he was not interested in stolen money. He wanted nothing to do with the man but wanted everything to do with feeling those legs wrapped around him in ecstasy, those eyes drowsy with need. He smiled deeply, scratched his beard and decided against shaving. A hawker didn’t have time for grooming.
Charity stared at her screen after the call and like timed bomb, the email she had been waiting for all week popped at her. She took a deep breath before opening the new mail from Naomi.
Reading of Will at The Castle, Date – 21st March, 2011. Be there with Udale.
Call 08138911937
it said.
She had been looking to find a way to be at the reading of the Will with Victor, as she preferred to call him, and Naomi had graciously provided a number.
She made the call.
It was 8:20pm.

*****
He stood, watching the doorway like a wild cat alert for his prey. In his ripped faded blue jeans and navy blue sweat shirt, Victor was tensed as he was calm. The nagging need to see her took him by surprise and at 9:45pm, he was standing in her living room. He knew there was no way he was going to sleep one more night without seeing her. He would have her and get her out of his system for good, he kept telling himself. He was not a teenager for God’s sake.
He waited.
Charity stood staring at herself in her bathroom mirror and shook her head at herself for the umpteenth time. She was hopeless. The moment her gate-man told her a Mr. Victor was here to see her, she sped into her shower and took a cold shower. Still, she felt her heart pound against her rib cage.
“For God’s sake! I am a grown woman” she scolded herself, tying her hair into a disheveled bun and dropping it on top of her head. Taking a deep breath, she walked out to the sitting room upstairs where she had told the gate-man to take him.
She walked out just as he imagined. In a bathrobe, her hair in an untidy bun and her eyes dancing with amusement. He also knew she was not wearing underwear. He knew these things.
“Some of us have curfew” she greeted, stopping to watch him stare at her calmly.
“Some of us don’t” he said, a little smile playing around his lips. Charity watched his pink succulent lips twitch and forced her eyes away from him. He looked terribly sexy standing there, his beards overgrown, teased her; his voice filling the room and she could swear she could feel his body warmth where she was standing.
“We will be traveling for the reading of the Will” she said, going over to the installed wall refrigerator where she stored her wine. Her throat suddenly felt dry.
“I won’t be going with you” he said coming around.
“You will” she smiled as she filled two glasses and handed him one.
“I missed you” he said raising a brow after he took the first sip.
“I know” she watched him over the rim of her glass and smiled. Gosh, she felt so stupid and reckless.
“Did you miss me?” he asked as he stepped into her space, collecting her glass and staring at her pale pink lips with longing.
“Tonight we are going to forget you are a client and we are never going to talk about this” she stated calmly while her heart pounded loudly.
“I want nothing more” he said almost in a whisper. She smelt like rose water, pale scent going up his nose.
“We are going to the Castle” she said softly as his hands wound round her waist.
“What are you wearing underneath your robe, little one” he teased, breathing hot air into her ear.
“Nothing. We are going to the reading of the Will” she caught her breath as he tickled her already poking nubs.
“I am not going to the reading of the Will” he countered, moving her slowly to the wall as she moved out of his reach.
“We are” she maintained as she left his arms and walked to the middle of the room; stood in a pose with her right leg raised slightly and began losing her robe. He swallowed painfully, his eyes following her hands, heart beating out of rhythm and his second half growing painfully hard in his trousers.
She took a deep breath to steady herself, running her hands all over her partially exposed body before dropping her robe, standing there in nothing but a golden body chain demarcating her breasts in an provocative manner and an untidy bun on top of her head. He swallowed loudly as he feasted his eyes on her fresh nakedness, the junction of her thighs beckoning, the lazy lightening above giving her a glow.
“Say yes” she said slowly, staring back at him with unabashed longing. He smiled, walking over to her before dropping his head to her lips.
“No” he said in a warm breath, taking her lips in a sweet kiss.
It would be a night they both would remember for a long time.

*****
21st March, 2011 – The Castle – Reading of the Will
Alhaja Kudirat Bello had done nothing but remained in her quarters all week after she had gone to the hospital to see her daughter-in-law, Martha, who was being prepared to be taken out of the country for a surgical operation and to commiserate with the affected staff and families of those who lost persons in the bomb blast that she facilitated. Kole was in hiding, she made sure the police dogs couldn’t get him. Soon, when she assumed office, she would make sure not one uniform personnel would intimidate her last son. Debola had little stitches across his forehead, his assistant – Pastor Tayo had died in the bomb blast and he was visibly shaken.
Kudirat was disgusted with the show of weakness in her first son and wondered how he got that crowd in London to believe in his God that allowed wickedness to triumph. Laide was another thorn that had been left unharmed. Without been told, Kudirat knew Laide was busy with her manservant, Kasimu when people had gone to her father’s burial. She chuckled at the thought – uncontrollable sexual urge saving her nymph of a daughter’s life. Kasimu must have been tired by now but how else could they keep her on the leash? Such a waste. She cared less for the wench that was now helping herself with her teenage adopted sons. Bello had been right to threaten to disinherit her. The little girl indeed thought her hired gun had been the one that killed her father. Such ignorance made her want to laugh.
Kudirat remained elusive and quiet, as a widow should; waiting for the reading of the Will that would make her the President of Funtua Group of Companies in name but much more in dark circles of power. She planned to eliminate the head of the seven-man committee and soon merge with former members of the cabal who were now without leaders. She, Josephine Ohiemi, would be in charge of ruling the country. The most powerful woman in the country. It was her ultimate mission, her life purpose – to head the cabal, to dictate, to determine the fate of the country. The thrill of power was exhilarating. Such power was the reason she existed.
She had everything she wanted but in few hours she would truly own the world. The empire that she had killed and fought for would be hers. She smiled and took a sip of her herbs, adjusting her veil. If only Florence was alive to see her, gave a little triumphant chuckle. As if that was possible.
She waited for the lawyers.
It was 7am.

*****
Victor Dakar, 21st March, 2011 – The Castle – Reading of the Will

The air was fresh, pure and cool yet it was suffocating him. Sitting behind the Lexus RX Hybrid with Charity beside him in a smart grey trouser suit and impeccable red lips. He closed his eyes as they sped past the Security Guards at the main entrance of the Estate to the venue of the reading of the Will. Charity met a group of lawyers the day before and the lawyers in their flashy cars drove ahead of them to the venue. Victor was uncomfortable with the secrecy seemed to be projecting but said nothing to her.
“You will be fine. I am here” Charity said sweetly as they watched from afar the sectioned grounds where the bomb had gone off.
“I would rather be in bed with you” he said without humor, looking into her eyes. He was serious about being in her bed but more serious about having her as his. The memorable night, if anything had made the attraction worse and all he thought about was when he was going to feel her against him. He hated the fact that he gave in to her demand that he come here. He was afraid of what his reaction would be, the reaction of Bello’s wife who he surprisingly had never seen, the legal battle that will follow, his safety, the press…it would be unending mess.
“We both want that” she said and gave him a peck. He smiled as he remembered their night together.
“Not fair” he groaned, giving a deep-throated chuckle.
“Life is not” she said and he nodded as they stared at themselves.
The large office complex sitting firmly on a large square foot was finished in glass walls and Victor remembered the building. It was the first green building project in the region and as a driver newly employed in Bello’s convoy, he had been privileged to be sent with some contractor to the site for evaluation few days before he had been detained for theft of some materials and anonymously bailed out. It was in the past now but what did they say about life as a circle? he asked himself as he got down from the car.
“Are you ok?” Charity asked, swallowing the tension that was threatening to leave her bowels as she joined him.
“Yes” he smiled confidently. She smiled and walked past him to the team from the firm handling the reading of the Will. How Naomi knew them was none of her business. It made her job easier.
The elderly man with impressive white hair stepped down from his car and walked past the team of his attorney into the building. Charity was tempted to go introduce herself to the legend Jimi Brown but she decided against and together with his team, entered the imposing structure.
She was ready as she could be.

*****
Josephine knew the exact moment the lawyers arrived and had called her driver to come around the entrance. She stood up from the black sofa in her waiting room to go to the office complex where she had fixed as venue for the reading of the Will. It felt right to seat on Bello’s chair as she took power.
“Good morning Ma, the lawyers are here” it was Bello’s personal assistant Sakinat, the little cheater Bello had been running around with. She would deal with her in due course, she thought with light-hearted malice.
“Is Debola there?” she asked, emptying the content of her small mug.
“Yes Ma, everyone is seated and waiting for you” she said simply, not mentioning the new faces that had been admitted into the boardroom.
“I will be there shortly” she said coolly, dismissing the flat-chested girl.
Josephine had since been in touch with Dele Adewole who confirmed that the Will that he was going to read was the one Badmus had made over a decade ago where he named her his sole heir.
Dele who escaped the bomb blast told newsmen who cared to listen that the only thing that saved his life was a phone call, an emergency at work that needed his attention and that staying behind in the executive mansion for few minutes to sort out the issue was the reason he had not been blown into pieces like some of his colleagues that had come to pay their final respect.
That wasn’t the truth. The truth was that Josephine had asked him to wait for her in Bello’s office but she had no intention of meeting him there. She had done that to save his life because she needed him to read the Will. She could only imagine what he thought would happen in Bello’s office. The first and last romp was to make sure he stayed a loyal dog. And so far, he was.

She arrived at the glass house, past the reception and walked majestically into the boardroom, barely glancing at the array of suited men at the table. The atmosphere was charged with expectation and she could feel it. She turned in time to see a man in black suit jacket and blue jeans stare blatantly at her with contempt. He looked like someone she knew from another life. The resemblance had her brain scrambling for recognition. She watched him and he looked like he was about to say something when Jimi Brown, Adewole’s partner came in her line of vision. She would ask the young man of his father when the reading of the Will was over, she thought. He looked vaguely familiar and in her line of business must have met his father.
“Where is Adewole?” she asked as she shook him, taking her seat.
“I am afraid Adewole had to go to London on an indictment charge” Jimi said with a small smile, walking over to the other end of the room to take his seat. Josephine had never really liked Jimi because of his upright stance and white hair that he thought was a mark of excellence and distinction.
The week before, offline and online media had been flooded with the news of bomb blast with various editors and column writers giving their views and analyzing polls supporting the act of terrorism against the executive arm of the Government. Opinions were that the new faction group was doing the country a favor by wiping out corrupt politicians. She couldn’t agree more. This week however, the front page featured the reading of Chief Badmus Bello’s Will. Josephine couldn’t wait to have her pictures splashed across newspapers, magazine and interviews.
Seating at the head of the dark brown mahogany conference table with a seating capacity of thirty people with Debola, Laide, Feyi – Bello’s sister, Sule – Bello’s step brother, the attorneys and two strangers she believed where necessary to capture this historic moment sat, she signaled that Jimi commence the read.
“I will be presiding over the reading of the Will” Jimi said quite loud for the occupants of the cold room to hear as he sat at the other end of the table with a speaker placed in his front.
The room was silent, belying the tension in the room. Sweat was pouring under Debola’s armpits, Laide sat with her legs crossed; the excitement in the building would be transferred to her manservant; Feyi, Badmus’s sister and thorn in Josephine’s side sat expecting a showdown and Sule, Bello’s step-brother sat uninterested. He was here because he wanted to be. He had his own empire to run.
“I would like to tell all in this room that this document is the last will and testament of Chief Badmus Bello. He has chosen us as the executioners. We will proceed if there are no objections” he continued, looking around the faces as the Will, sealed was brought out from a briefcase. He waved the document to show that the sealed was not broken.
“Go ahead” Sule waved quickly.
“Alright” Jimi said
“This is the last dying will of Chief Badmus Bello. I read” the lawyer said and began to read.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
Of
Chief Badmus Bello, FSV, OON

1. Declaration
I hereby declare that this is my last will and testament and that I hereby revoke, cancel and annul all wills and codicils previously made by me either jointly or severally. I declare that I am of legal age to make this will and of sound mind and that this last will and testament expresses my wishes without undue influence or duress.
2. Family Details
I am married to Alhaja Kudirat Sadika Bello hereinafter referred to as my spouse.
I have the following children from her:
Name: Adebola Olusegun Bello. Date of Birth 17th June, 1983
Name: Laide Yejide Bello. Date of Birth 30th March, 1984
Name: Kolawole Bankole Bello. Date of Birth 2nd June, 1986
However, these people have ceased to be my family as I have since known that my wife of 29 years have been unfaithful and heartlessly imposed her lover’s children on me. Her lover, George Ajero, is their father and I have supporting documents to this claim.
I state here that I have a son with Florence Ohiemi.
Name: Inale Ohiemi-Bello. Date of Birth 1st September, 1982. He is the only son I have.
3. Appointment of Executors
3.1. I hereby nominate, constitute and appoint Adewole & Jimi, Attorneys at Law as Executor or if this Executor is unable or unwilling to serve then I appoint Florence Ohiemi as alternate Executor.
3.2. I hereby give and grant the Executor all powers and authority as are required or allowed in law, and especially that of assumption.
3.3. I hereby direct that my Executors shall not be required to furnish security and shall serve without any bond.
3.4. Pending the distribution of my estate my Executors shall have authority to carry on any business, venture or partnership in which I may have any interest at the time of my death.
3.5. My Executors shall have full and absolute power in his/her discretion to insure, repair, improve or to sell all or any assets of my estate, whether by public auction or private sale and shall be entitled to let any property in my estate on such terms and conditions as will be in the best interest of my beneficiaries.
3.6. My Executors shall have authority to borrow money for any purpose connected with the liquidation and administration of my estate and to that end may encumber any of the assets of my estate.
3.7. My Executors shall have authority to engage the services of attorneys, accountants and other advisors as he/she may deem necessary to assist with the execution of this last will and testament and to pay reasonable compensation for their services from my estate.
4. Beneficiary
I bequeath the whole of my estate, property and effects, whether movable or immovable, wheresoever situated and of whatsoever nature to my son, my blood, Inale Ohiemi-Bello
5. Alternate Beneficiaries
5.1. Should my spouse, Alhaja Kadirat Sadika Bello disagree, I direct that her three children be subjected to paternity test in full glare of the media and results published in the National Daily. I have provided my DNA at The Trinity Hospital, Ikoyi and Dr. John Gagbena is commissioned to carry out the test.
5.3. I direct that the inheritance devolving upon any of her children under my last will and testament as well as the proceeds, the reinvestment of such proceeds and the income thereon be ignored.
5.4. If any of her children are proved to be indebted to me before my death by means of a legal instrument, then his / her debt shall not be paid from my estate.
5.5. I direct that my adopted grandsons be placed on monthly allowance of $1000 until their 25th birthday and actions be taken against their mother should she be unwilling to let them go as I have constantly instructed.
5.6. I direct that the 10 hectares of farmland in Kuje, Abuja be given to my step-sister Feyi Bello.
5.7. If my spouse and her children cannot reach agreement or publish paternity tests within one year of this will coming into effect, the Executor shall transfer the whole of my estate, property and effects, whether movable or immovable, wheresoever situated and of whatsoever nature to my son, Inale Ohiemi-Bello.
6. Special Requests
I direct that on my death my remains shall be buried at my Mausoleum located at my estate, The Castle, Ondo State and all funeral expenses shall be paid out of my estate.
7. General
7.2. Should any provision of this will be judged by an appropriate court of law as invalid it shall be subject to provision of proved paternity of spouse children.
Signed on this 10th day of February, 2011 at headquarters of Adewole & Jimi, Attorneys at Law, Lagos in the presence of the undersigned witnesses.
SIGNED: Chief Badmus Bello, FSV, OON

The quiet room erupted into a high pitched laugh and Victor, who held his breath throughout the reading turned to look at the source of the sound. It was Laide. The man who looked like a known pastor sat with a stunned look and suddenly Charity looked like a car ran over her, her eyes going from the girl laughing and the stunned pastor. The only person in the room who was unaffected was his mother, who sat poised with a small smile on her lips. Was this how she wanted to compensate him? His mother was Bello’s wife? Why did she send him away all those years? To cheat on her husband to have more children? Why would she cast him away and raise another man’s children in his father’s house? Did she have them before him or went back to him after she threw him out? What was the reason for the change in the Will? Didn’t Charity say they were to get $10 million each? And why was his mother not looking at him? Victor wondered, more confused than ever. There were no answers to his questions and he felt like standing up to demand answers. Just then his mother spoke.
“Have you finished?” Josephine Ohiemi asked as she fixed Jimi a cold stare.
“Yes” he said returning the stare squarely. Jimi Brown had never been happier than he was now. Finally, his friend was doing something he approved of and moreso because he had the honor of putting the little tick in her place. How he loathed her.
“There is no truth in this document. I must say that my husband may have lost it these past months. For one, my sister, Florence is dead and she never met my husband because she died over 30 years ago. There is no son anywhere. I believe you have cooked up this Will with an imaginary son perhaps to cause a sensation or perhaps you simply have the wrong Will. Get Dele to clear up the mix. You have wasted a greater part of my day. I expect that this embarrassment should not repeat itself anymore ” she waved nonchalantly as she made to stand up.
“The Will is valid Josephine” it was a voice Josephine Ohiemi taught she had silenced forever, it was the voice of the only one who could take her down.
“I am not dead” the voice was stronger now as the woman who had being waiting all her life for this moment walked across the room to where Josephine was standing, rooted to the spot, speechless.
It was Florence Ohiemi, in flesh and she was ready for her pound of flesh.
And this time, she would get more than a good slice.

*****

Till Next week!

M.O.T.I.V.E.S is written by Uneñ Ameji
Author of Memoirs of a Justified Gold Digger on Amazon.com
See new book Love on the 25th on Okadabooks http://goo.gl/hmsKnv
W: http://bit.ly/1Il23U3
T: https://twitter.com/UnenAmeji

*****

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Thank you to @GEzeogu and @IamTimayin for sending in their corrections of previous episodes.

P.S: Kindly make observations of your typos and structures and send to mailafricanstories@gmail.com.

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M.O.T.I.V.E.S – Episode 4

Featured

We good? And yup! We got you Episode 4 of interesting new online series from @UnenAmeji

Read Previous Episode Here

Thanks for comments outside post and most appreciative of persons dropping comments below. Thank you Mr. Ezeogu for your email on the typos and errors.

Enjoy…..remember to comment!!!

Episode 4

*****
Auchi, Saturday, June 2, 1962

There is something terrifying about the night. The far-reaching darkness. The thickness of nothingness and the pure weight of cold fear. One could touch it if one but stretched out his hands. The unending stretch of blackness, the absolute stillness of silence and unsettling tension in expectation of pure evil.
Then at first ray of light, the hope of life is restored. Hope replaces fear, and man would roam the earth as one who ruled completely, one without fear – for twelve hours. Alas, darkness descends again and if one thought about it deep enough, one might discover that the earth recreated itself in 24hours.
A repeated cycle starts with these altering words – Let there be light.

It was on such a terrifying night that Agnes Ohiemi, wife of dedicated choir master, Kimi Ohiemi, after 19 hours of labor gave birth to two beautiful girls. These identical twins would grow to hate themselves and wish the other was never born. No two human beings could be any more different than these two.
The first, a rather small bundle, with a loud aggressive wail came out the moment the minute hand clocked 3: 00 am. The three women from the church shouted praises as they held the feisty baby and severed the placenta from the mother not paying attention to the weak Agnes who was fast losing strength and blood. The pastor’s wife who doubled as the official midwife of her parish began the bloody task of cleaning the exhausted Agnes when she noticed movement in the bowels of the mother.
“There is another baby coming” the pastor’s wife proclaimed and the old prayer warrior among the women broke into spiritual tongues that sounded like confused clash of vowels and Greek alphabets. The task to birth the second child proved more difficult than any other birthing they had witnessed while the mother slipped in and out of consciousness.
“Let us take her to the hospital” Sister Pamela, the new convert weakly suggested only to be rebuked hotly and told to continue in supplication for the life of their dear sister.

The thing was, the church forbade orthodox medicine and believed strongly in fruits to cure diseases ranging from prostate cancer to HIV/AIDs. As dedicated and core believers, Kimi and his wife decided to follow the church mandate and all through her difficult pregnancy refused to go to the hospital. Instead they believed in the word of God and the holy unfailing words of the prophet while taking fruits, vegetables and the Holy Communion after they broke fast daily. While Agnes had not completed the 40 days of dry fasting and prayer as required, she was severely malnourished and weak.
The battle to give birth to the baby girl turned spiritual as they began praying and singing praises like Paul and Silas, speaking in holy tongues while the old prayer warrior continued to force the baby out.

After another 3 hours, just at the first ray of light, the second baby girl glided out, pale and still. The mother, almost gone now urged the women to make her baby cry. And when she gave her first cry after a weak cough, the beautiful young woman smiled and laid down comfortably, closing her eyes with a smile, welcoming the sweet relief as her ravaged body allowed her breathe escape and her gentle spirit ease out into that place of permanent darkness.
She had finished her purpose, so the pastor said the next day in a powerful sermon in church while the distraught husband led the choir. Weakness was of the enemy and only show of strength could drive the devil far away.
The first girl would later be named Josephine and her quiet and frail sister, Florence.

Kimi didn’t mourn his wife, in fact after eight months, he got married to a dedicated sister in the choir. It was necessary because a man was not meant to be without a wife, temptations abound and this man had new born babies – two beautiful identical girls who up until the shabby wedding were with his mother in the village.
It was this new woman, this desperate repentant prostitute Eunice, that would raise the girls up in a wicked way, fueling the jealousy and hatred in their little hearts. It gave her pleasure when they fought, she always instigated it because it calmed her heart. She could not bear children because she had lost her womb several years ago after an unsuccessful attempt in aborting a child that was as a result of rape she had continuously endured in the hands of her sister’s husband.
It was only human that her sister threw her out into the streets and from where she sold her barren womb for money until she met the lord and accepted Him as her lord and personal Savior. She was a new being and she ate more vegetables and fruits than were necessary. Perhaps, at the scent of rain, her dead womb would sprout forth. It never did.

Kimi fathered a son outside his home 3 years later but it was forgivable in the sight of God and the church. A man needed an heir, and like his father Abraham, he had found himself a Hagar – Eunice’s best friend – and his Ishmael became the responsibility of Eunice.
It was this dysfunctional home that Josephine, Florence and Kenneth (Ishmael) had their childhood. Josephine, born several hours before Florence, was arrogant, selfish, intelligent, covetous and utterly wicked. She wanted everything for herself and couldn’t stand the fact that another being had her exact flawless pretty features. It became too much when Florence, quiet,brilliant, reserved and vengeful grew more beautiful. Her eyes shone bright when she smiled and her breasts stood proudly, framing her hourglass figure that stood on impossibly long straight legs. Florence despised Josephine for one reason only – her ability to take what was rightfully hers and get away with it.

From the first day they could walk and talk, they stayed away from each other like one would avoid a leper. Kenneth got into trouble at school for removing panties of his female classmates and would later lose his life as he tried to escape a robbery where he had gotten carried away and raped his principal’s daughter who teased senior boys in school.
The principal who overpowered the trio, forced their locally made guns from their hands and shot at their heads one by one.
He was a member of the Kimi Ohiemi’s church. That was the last day Kimi went to church.

Florence first memories of Josephine’s covetousness went back to their clothes, plates, school bags and boys. From the moment boys became a steady diet in their days, Josephine was perpetually on the lookout for the latest boy that Florence was dating and within days deceived them into thinking she was Florence. At the beginning, Florence threw a storm and burnt all her clothes but their step-mother had sided with Josephine and asked Josephine to burn hers in return. Kimi was far too gone in liquor to care about the fire in his home. That had been the last time Florence retaliated actively. Instead she poured purgative in Josephine meal, tore her notebooks and misplaced her assignments. Once she poured wata pia-pai inside Josephine’s plate of Ogbono soup but had a change of heart and threw away the food before she got to taste it. Florence figured she had to find a way to get rid of her sister, rat poison would be too easy. In years to come, Florence would greatly regret this.

Josephine couldn’t care less. She enjoyed the thrill of stealing whatever belonged to Florence and most especially the boys. They should be coming for her, she was the oldest and so naturally, she should have the handsome boys, loveliest of clothes and the attention of everyone, including their pastor who had since been ministering to her behind locked doors.
At 18, Florence got admitted into the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria to study Architecture and was thrilled at finally leaving home to chart a new path away from her twin, however, it was one of those dreams one had before mid-day, short, believable and abrupt. The next year, Josephine transferred herself from Nsukka to Zaria School of Nursing and became a torn in Florence’s flesh once more.
It was at this time that Badmus Bello entered their lives. It was at this time that they became mortal enemies.

*****

Zaria, October, 1981

Badmus Bello, son of Otunba Falaye Bello, exporter of cotton, groundnut and tomatoes was known across Northern part of the country. Otunba Funtua, as fondly called by the locals had considerably amassed a good name, great influence and intimidating net worth. Badmus was funny as he was intelligent and rich on campus. Popular, handsome and domineering, it was inevitable that females flocked around him and him, having more than enough females to go round would share with his friends.
He was a Mechanical Engineering student and was in his 3rd year at the University with a lot of females vying for his attention. Life of the party, one did not host a party and didn’t invite him. His friend Abba, an equally egoistic territorial animal was hosting a party and Godiya, Florence’s new friend was invited to attend the hottest party of the semester. She absolutely had to go and needed a wing. Florence would be that reluctant wing. After several weeks of non-stop pestering, Florence gave up and was forced into a pair of tight flamboyant trousers and blouse that pressed against her breasts like rubber band. She hated herself and Godiya even more.

The teaming house with equally tight clothed females and randy males irritated Florence to no end. It was everything that she knew it would be and more. She finally snuck out of the building the moment Abba had taken Godiya to the dance floor. Practically escaping out of the big house, she stepped out just in time to see a male student hit a female few meters away from the gate of the big house in the Government Residential Area, in glare of loiters who were drunk and fooling around. Angered, Florence watched him slap her again moved swiftly where they stood and removed her high heels in quick succession before slamming him on the back of his head with all the strength in her tiny limbs and heaving chest that was beating furiously. The impact left him in deep pain as he turned to find the source of the attack.

He turned with a stunned look on his face. Speechless as he stared down at the slim pretty girl with flashing eyes and heaving chest. It did no go good that her firm breasts pressing against her blouse revealed her tight nipples.
“How does it feel now? You don’t slap her around like some slave because you can” she said in a hiss and watched him stare at her as she walked past them and found her way out of the compound, eyes of bystanders following her out.
The next morning, he was waiting in front of the hostel for her.
“You think I won’t find you?” he asked as soon as he saw her stop in mid steps, regarding him carefully. Tall, domineering and a little intimidating, Badmus Bello watched her eyes regard him coldly before matching past him in a hurry. Now that she wasn’t angry and irritated, Florence was afraid of the male leaning against his car.
“I don’t know you” she answered as he caught up with her, stopping her from breaking into a run. She was heading to her class to finish an assignment. It was a Saturday.
Florence at this time was in her second year but she was dedicated to graduating with a first class for a scholarship that would take her out of the country and forever away from her evil sister and her fragmented family.
“Sure you do. I have you to thank for this” he said removing his face cap and Florence drew in her breath. His head where she had used her shoe had a blood soaked cotton wool sticking to it.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t know I hit you that hard” she apologized, looking at the red soaked cotton wool and looking away, ashamed of her anger, afraid of what he’d do to her now or if he would ask that she pay for the treatment. She couldn’t afford that.
“I thought you said you didn’t know me?” Bello asked, trying so hard to keep a straight face. He was intrigued by the constant change of her facial expressions and the biting of her lower lips, eyes framed by long natural lashes hiding her beautiful eyeballs. She was a fine thing and he wanted her.
“Look, I am sorry. You had no right to slap her like that and I got carried away” she said as she decided to go back to her room. She didn’t feel safe standing with him while he looked down at her.
At 5ft 5 inches, she was petite as he stood at 6ft 4inches of pure maleness. In the daylight, she noticed his good looks and for a moment looked at him straight in the eyes that registered an awareness that would be the beginning of their relationship.
“I had no right. I was fuming mad at her but I know I crossed the line and I am sorry” he apologized with a half-moon smile dancing on his lips while he peeled off the red cotton wool on his head.
“You tricked me!” was all she said in a laugh as she noticed that there was nothing wrong with his head. He joined in the laugh too.
“You deserved it” was his playful reply. It was a go.

The two were inseparable after then. It would be the first time Florence would give herself to a man completely. Bello, instead of Badmus, as people called him, was her first, and her last.
She had screamed and bitten him the first time he pushed into her wetness on his firm mattress where he had taken other girls but this time, he didn’t understand his need to consume her, remain embedded in her warmness and tightness. He couldn’t even remember his name as he spilled his seed and murmured her name again and again. She was shaking like a lone leaf in harmattan and wanted nothing more than his warmth. Her heart beat so fast she counted numbers to slow down the rate at which her heart pounded against her rib cage.
The next time he saw her, after a week of trying to ignore her on campus, he felt drawn to her, like moth to flame. He couldn’t stay away and ached when she did as much as smile or laugh at something a male friend of hers said. He had taken to randomly visiting her department building in hopes of seeing her but actually telling himself he was checking on his young brother, Sule.
“I thought we were done” she said bravely as she sat in his car as they took an early evening drive outside the school. She knew the moment she left him the day he had taken her virginity that he had gotten what he wanted and was not surprised when he stopped coming by her hostel and class.
Now here he was, looking at her and smiling, occasionally shaking his head.
“I thought so too. Apparently, I can’t get over you as I have with other girls” he said easily with a light laugh. He felt the opposite. He was afraid of his true feelings. He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he had been caught in the proverbial web of love as his friend Garba had the previous year and had gotten married to Laila, his second cousin who was barely a teenager. He just couldn’t be falling into love with this Eastern girl, he couldn’t. But he was and it terrified him that he knew the end of his free days were here.
“Look, I am not other girls and certainly won’t die for you like they do” she spat almost too forcefully. She lied, she liked him terribly and hurt every day he didn’t come around to see her.
“I don’t want you to die for me. I just want you to be mine only” he said as he parked in a secondary school football field several kilometers away from the University.
“That’s not possible” she said, her heart singing for joy at his demand.
“It is. You just have to make it possible. Right now, I want to see you behind the wheel” he said in a laugh and got down for her to take over the steering wheel.
That was the start of their exclusive relationship.
He couldn’t wait to see her in school, have lunch or cook dinner with her. The moment he wasn’t with her, he wondered what she was doing. Was she with another man? Did she want him as much as he wanted her? Did she love him as he did? Bello had finally bitten the love bug and his friends teased him sore.
Then one Sunday night, he saw her in the arms of another boy at the Nursing department and was so mad that he charged across the hall and hurled the boy away from her.
He demanded an explanation and for a moment, a blank stare replied him before a smile broke out knowingly on the same lips that he had fallen in love with for the last 5 months. Only that, the girl who stood before him was not Florence but her twin sister, Josephine.

The moment Josephine knew that Florence had deceived her into thinking she was going out with Obinna, the boy who had been hurled off her, she dropped the confused boy like hot nail and moved on to Bello in a heartbeat.
“I was just telling him to let me be” Josephine impersonated Florence’s smooth small voice when she wanted to clear up a situation. Nothing gave Josephine satisfaction like seeing Florence heartbroken or sad because one of her handsome boyfriends had fallen into her trap again. This time, it was the big catch. Who didn’t know bad boy Badmus Bello.
Bello stopped at the voice and watched as she came over to take his hand. Florence wasn’t this forward but he let her hold him anyways. He felt the disconnection but it didn’t help that she kept trying to explain what he just saw and was apologizing as he drove her to her hostel.
“Where are we going?” Josephine asked, fearful at the direction they were going. She didn’t want to go to her sister’s hostel.
“To your room” he answered quietly.
“But I don’t want to go to my room now. Let’s go to your place” she cooed.
“You have to study for tomorrow’s paper” he reminded her.
“I am done” Josephine lied.
Bello, eager to show her who she belonged to did not waste time and took her straight to his house. He was on her the moment she had her leg in the door, tearing off her skirt and blouse, ripping her bra and pushing her against the wall.
“I told you, you belong to me. No man else. I want you to know that, do you understand that?” he asked hotly as he pounded away, too hot to bother about the difference in the feeling. She wasn’t snug and tight like Florence, she didn’t hold him and clinch the tip of his maleness with her clitoral muscle as she normally did.
Bello was in bed with the wrong sister and like it would always happen, Florence who was indeed done with her studying decided to go surprise him. It had been a long time without him and she missed having his arms around her when she slept.

Florence opened his front door with her key and walked quietly to his room. What she saw that night broke her spirit. Her twin sister had won again. Lying in each other’s arm, naked and blissfully asleep, she stood and wept noiselessly, sniffing and crying all over again.
She stood there for a couple of hours before Bello felt presence in his room and switched on his light to find Florence standing in front of his bed, tears and catarrh running down her nose.
For a moment, he was confused but skipped out of bed when the hand splayed across his broad chest moved. There was another Florence on his bed.
“What is this? Who are you?” he asked Florence, putting on his discarded boxers hurriedly. Florence watched Josephine wake up and curl comfortably without bothering to cover herself. The rush of pure hatred that filled her that the day was like none she had experienced over the years. She was in love for the first time and Josephine had destroyed it.
“You just had sex with my twin sister Josephine. I am Florence. Goodbye Bello” she said slowly, stemming her rage as she pointed at Josephine with dead eyes before rushing out of the house. A dumbfounded Bello stood looking at the girl on his bed, seeing no difference, he followed his heart out a minute too late. She was gone.
Josephine, shaken by the look Florence had given her knew this was the last straw. She knew it was never going to get any better than this and knew instinctively if she did not act now, Florence was going to get even. How? She didn’t want to find out. She had to get rid of her mirror image. It was settled.

*****

Florence left Zaria to Auchi two days later, after her last paper and avoided Bello like a plague. She had found out she was pregnant the following day after the horrible night at the student clinic and was afraid of what she was going to do about it now that it was over between them. It would be the last time she would see Bello.

Over the holiday in Auchi, an attempt would be made on Florence’s life that left Josephine, family and church members to believe she was dead. The burial had taken place days after finding a faceless body that had been sacrificed to a deity and thrown on the bush path.

What nobody knew was that Josephine had sold her supposedly virgin sister to some group of boys who needed virgins because she was sure Florence was one. What she didn’t know was that Florence was pregnant and the deity rejected her because it could not take a new life, or so the native doctor said when his ige told him the girl was pregnant.
Florence, weak and spaced-out, was left in the thick forest to die. However, a new convert of the terrible gang returned for her at nightfall and rescued her. He told her days after she recovered from her state not to return home because her sister had staged her kidnap and would try to get rid of her by paying his leader who she had been sold to.
Afraid for her life and the Bello’s baby, she fled with the new convert to Osogbo.
The body belonging to an actual virgin that looked like Florence’s was left as arranged. Josephine was ecstatic. Her mirror image was gone forever.

In far north, Josephine took over Florence’s course, friends and forgave Bello, as was intended. No one was any wiser of the switch. Josephine, an intelligent girl, graduated in Florence’s stead and after another three years graduated as Josephine.
Bello, still in love, proposed and took Josephine home to meet his parents.

Later, Josephine would convert to Islam to impress Badmus father who wanted his son to follow his faith. That singular act endeared her to Otunba and not long after their wedding, she became Alhaja Kudirat Bello, wife of Chief Badmus Bello.

If life wasn’t for those who took it by force, who else’s would it be?

But this was not the end, this would only be the beginning.

*****

M.O.T.I.V.E.S is written by;
Uneñ Ameji
Author of Memoirs of a Justified Gold Digger on Amazon.com
See new book Love on the 25th on Okadabooks http://goo.gl/hmsKnv
W: http://bit.ly/1Il23U3
T: https://twitter.com/UnenAmeji

*****

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M.O.T.I.V.E.S – Episode 3

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Hey guys,
Sorry for delay in posting….internet providers messed us up…we back online though…Apologies.

We got you Episode 3 of *spanking new online series from @UnenAmeji

Read Previous Episode Here

Enjoy…..remember to comment!!!

Episode 3
*****
Faction Meeting – Seven meet at undisclosed location in the Federal Capital Territory
Agenda – Termination
Date – 8th December, 2010
Time – 2: 00 am

The quiet hum of the cold room registered the entrance of the last member of the deadly group with firm clicks of wooden heels on the shiny marble tiles. The bunker, located underneath the perpetually sealed off property, was eerily lit and one could feel the evil in the air as they sat still, not talking to each other. These people decided affairs of the State and they had gathered to decide the fate of some old weathered thorns, thorns who wanted them exposed and dealt with.
The fallout had come right after the nomination of the next President of the Republic. The disagreement over the candidate and the policies to be implemented caused some of the Elders- as they called themselves – to leave the coven and force the hand of the group by inciting the public in demanding for a change in governance and administration of their monies. It was the submission of the repentant Elders that the looting and bleeding of the treasury had gone on for too long, that it was time to develop the country and focus on rejuvenating dead sectors. The seven meeting in this room did not think so.
They were of the opinion that those that called for a readdress probably had more reserves than they claimed and as such was simply a farce and a case of hypocrisy.
The scheduled meeting had been called to find lasting solution to recent overturns of policies that served that interest and most recently the sentencing of two of their members to 25 years imprisonment over money laundering and embezzlement charges. It was time to put an end to the witch hunting and they were ready to do what was needed.
The meeting was set to start and the room stilled as the leader spoke.
“I see we are all unanimous in our decision” the leader, a tall domineering figure with thick voice spoke, confirming the thoughts of the seven people in the bunker. They knew why they were here.
“It must not fail. It must not be traced back to us” another said carefully, the unsure but dissatisfied element in the group was not particularly comfortable with the killing of former members but his greed knew no bounds. He simply did not want to get caught.
“You have nothing to worry about” the thick voice belonging to the mastermind of the group said with live cigar in his hands. He had no idea why he need these lily-livered fools, he thought. He knew he could do this by himself but he also knew that there was always need for scapegoats.
“A good scapegoat is nearly as welcome as a solution to the problem” his father always told him. But as he looked at the woman sitting quietly, carelessly thumbing her phone, he doubted briefly if she was working against them. Wife to a member who had decided to ‘repent’, he wondered what she was doing here. His curiosity had been the reason for admitting her into the group after several correspondence..
“We do” it was the woman.
Six pair of eyes were turned to her. She continued thumbing her phone as she spoke.
“I think the method proposed in eliminating the bottlenecks is greatly flawed, very common. Forgive my objection but if this was to come back to us, we would have a lot of amendments to make. We may lose more than what we intend to gain” she said as one who had rehearsed her speech.
“What is your submission then?” the thick voice asked, eyeing her with caution and watching as other members of the group listened to her with rapt attention.
“Why don’t you leave it to me to deal with this?” she asked, finally meeting their eyes.
“We cannot just let you handle it. If you fail, it comes back to all of us” the man who was already panicked said.
“I am ready to take the fall for it” she said, fixing her eyes on the leader of the group. A silent staring match that lasted several minutes ended as the men nodded their heads in the affirmative.
“I suppose you will keep me updated on your next course of action” the leader of the group said at last, trying to maintain his authority.
“Watch the news” she answered with confidence as she smiled.
“If I can be excused, I have a little event to plan. Gentlemen?” she smiled charmingly as she stood up and left the bunker through the secret passage to her car.
Out of the seven cars parked, she unlocked the car she had rented from the airport and headed back. She believed in working alone because she knew aides had a way of leaking secrets, leakages she could not afford.
She arrived at the private wing of the Nnamdi Azikiwe International airport at 4:30 am and casually waited for her husband as airport officials greeted her as they went about their business. He was flying into Abuja on his private jet and she intended to take it back home.
“My darling wife! I am sorry to have kept you waiting” it was Chief Badmus Bello in his usual style, wearing his starched crispy white Agbada and black Suede cap with Italian brown leather shoes to match.
“It is no problem. I just got here” she lied as she stood up to a kiss. A peck on the mouth. The time was 7:45am.
“I know, I should get you your own private bus too” he teased, holding her hand as he escorted her aboard while his female assistant, Ribina followed dutifully. He was overly jovial because he had come to Abuja to conclude on the privatization deal with the President on power.
“You should” she playfully admonished him.
“See you at home” she said as he gave her another light peck before getting into the plane
“Don’t hold your breath” he muttered under his breath as he walked back to the reception with his female assistant trying to catch up with the rest of the escort in her impossibly high heels.
Badmus knew his wife of 29 years was up to something and not the smoke screen of attending women empowerment seminars she had put up in the last months. He had hired a private eye to look into her affairs but after three months on her trail, there was nothing out of the ordinary except the uneasy way in which she regarded him. Her proper sanctimonious smiles she threw at him when she knew he was cheating on her drove him up the wall. Reports were that she was busy with the Minister of Women Affairs and Social Development but he knew in his gut that his darling wife was up to no good.
But what?
He had no idea.

*****
23rd February, 2011 – Day of Burial – Peter Osagie Jnr. Residence

“Honey! Stop! I am serious! I am so pregnant!” it was Omoni giggling like the pregnant woman that she was as she tried to fend off her horny husband who was trying to get her to bed for the umpteenth time.
“I know you are but Sade said we could still have sex…until” he crowed, grinding behind her and dropping his head to lick her ears as she stood in front of the gas cooker making Nkwobi. The steaming goat meat peppersoup stirred Peter’s appetite but nothing could quench the hunger he had for his 8 months pregnant wife. It would seem that the more she grew, the more he wanted to have sex with her. The raw need was almost too much to bear.
“Make love, not have sex. There is a difference” she corrected as she felt his hot breath fanning her ears and his restless hands palming her stomach, breasts and thighs.
“You are so soft” he whispered teasing her sensitive nipples as she gasped, mauling her full breasts and pinching her nipples the way he knew drove her insane.
“Stop it Peter” she said, twisting from his arms.
“Say you like it, I am turning you on, am I not? Uhhmm, say it, admit you like it” he continued as he unbutton the multicolored sleeveless cotton blouse she was wearing.
“Peter! God, Yes, Yes! you are turning me on, you big devil” she cursed in a laugh as she turned in his hands and got her lips enveloped in a wet searing kiss. He feasted on her hot lips, kissing and probing as she returned the kiss fervently.
He had just exposed her firm pink tits and dropped his head to suck on the full breast when his phone rang. He groaned loudly.
“Saved by the phone” she laughed as he palmed her buttocks.
“Go and answer your call” she laughed pushing him away from her.
“Okay! I will go. But be warned, I am coming back in full force” he teased spanking her round buttocks before answering his call.
It was work. He had just gotten his one month annual leave to spend with his wife. The last he needed were work calls.
“Sir, there has been a bomb blast” it was Sani, his subordinate without preamble.
“Where?” he asked, already saying goodbye to his leave and his hot wife.
“At the Castle. The burial ground” Sani supplied with finesse, waiting for the next instruction. Peter didn’t have any. He hated the Bellos and he had chosen Sani to head the extraction of Kole Bello immediately after his father’s burial. This was a complication he wasn’t ready for.
“Who would want to kill a dead man?” he asked, not expecting an answer.
“Who would want to use a dead man to kill more birds?” he asked himself again, still not expecting an answer.
“Sani” he called
“Yes Sir”
“Get a team set up. I want to know the number of casualties, how many were dignitaries and who is taking responsibility for the act. Also, get me information from the Presidency. We need to know if they intend making a statement and what it would be”
“Yes sir”
“And Sani”
“Yes Sir”
“If Kole Bello is dead, I want to see his body or parts of it”
“Yes Sir”
“Good” he said forcefully as he ended the call.
As head of the newly formed CID special squad in handling criminal activities of the uber-rich and persons who thought themselves above the law, it was his duty to investigate and prosecute these elements in conjunction with appropriate authorities.
“What is wrong?” it was Omoni coming out of the hot kitchen with sweat sprouting on her forehead. She had buttoned her blouse.
“Apparently, there had been a bomb blast at the burial of Badmus Bello” he said going over to get a drink.
“Oh my God! That’s awful. Who would want to kill a dead man?” she said rushing to change the channel that had been on a movie channel. It was breaking news on FTV and a couple of stations she surfed.
“At least this is the first bomb blast that has a different undertone” Peter said carelessly as he watched the report live from the scene of the blast. The bald reporter was putting the casualty figure at 226 persons and commending the quick response of the Emergency Units. Although the names and identity of persons were yet to be released, the bald reporter said that it was likely several powered executives and statesmen were feared dead.
“What undertone?” Omoni asked as the report finished and she changed it to another channel reporting the attack.
“I think this was targeted at the dignitaries and not a terrorist attack. I will be surprised if the boys took responsibility for this” he said sadly as he watched the repeat report.
“I will not be surprised. Didn’t you tell me they issued some threats months back? This attack will boost their portfolio and up the stakes especially with the new demands they are making” Omoni said as she took a seat to rest her legs.
“I am certain they won’t” he said confidently as he helped her to seat on the long couch.
“Why?” she asked, signalling that he switch on the Air Conditioner.
“Because Farah has not contacted me yet” he finally revealed
“You are still in touch with Mohamed Abdirahman?” she asked sitting up in alarm.
“I am sweets” he said with caution as he watched the emotions play out on her face.
“Why?” she asked, angry.
“I need Intel and he provides really accurate from time to time” he defended weakly coming to sit beside her.
“You promised to….” he did not allow her to finish. It was always the same argument. Farah was bad news and they both knew it. It was only a matter of time before he would be found out as a spy. If they were lucky, he would not reveal the squad and the man behind it. Omoni was scared and she had every right to be.
“I know I promised. It is just hard right now but I am careful, I promise I am” he begged as she looked at him, slowly releasing her pent up breath.
“When are you leaving?” she asked, looking at the Television but not seeing anything.
“In a bit” he said as he looked away from her. She pushed herself up and made to walk past him as he stood up and caught her hand.
“Don’t be like this” he coerced.
“I can’t help it. We discussed this…remember?” she said, biting her lips from saying more.
He nodded.
“I am just using him to get inside information”
“Until they find out and come for you. I just……have a safe flight” she said as she walked into their room and locked him out.
Peter stood in the big sitting room before following her to beg.
It was going be a long afternoon

*****
23rd February, 2011 – Day of burial – The Presidency

“Mr. President, there has been a tragedy” it was Nurudeen Soyemi, Special adviser to the President on Media matters.
“There is always a tragedy in this moronic country” the man who was voted into the highest office in the land said distastefully as he watched a rerun of the football match, paying no attention to his Special Adviser. He had missed the UEFA Championship match between his club Manchester United and Chelsea because of a late night meeting with some old men who wanted him to pay striking workers. Why should he pay when they had collected the allocated funds? He had wanted to ask them in presence of some of the overzealous pressmen but decided to let them waste his time and requested for his little Nina, his pleasure for the rest of the night.
“Yes Sir. It is the Chief’s burial” Nuru continued, a little sardonic smile breaking on the old man’s face.
“I told you to send a representative Nuru!” the President spat impatiently as he briefly looked the old man who had been forced on him.
“See our boys doing well ehn?” the President continued, pointing to the Newspaper beside him that had headlines of the National football team qualifying for the African Cup of Nations.
“Sir, there has been a bomb blast” the tired Special Adviser said grinding his teeth that had few missing from his last appointment with his dentist.
Oooooooh! Ehn! Wich kain tin be dis? When was this?” he complained loudly finally looking at his Special Adviser.
“Just a few minutes ago, Your excellency. They blew up Chief Badmus’s burial. It is breaking news on NNTA” he said pointing to the remote that the President was gripping hard.
“Are you serious? They wanted to blow me up? Who is they?” President Jang Wuyaku asked rapidly, turning back to his large screen and changing the channel.
“I don’t think that was the plan” Nuru said and bit his tongue at his blab. He should be more careful, he thought shifting on his legs.
“So they would have killed me now” the President continued, oblivious to the statement that Nuru had just made.
“No Sir, God will not allow it”
“He will o! Thank God I sent that yeye Minister” he continued as he watched the report and wreckage, shaking his head.
“I think we should make a statement to condemn the act and call the I.G of Police to get to the root of this fast” he continued
“Yes, Yes of course. That’s your job naw. Go do what Nigeria pays you for” he said with a belittling smile and waved him away.
“Old mumu” he muttered under his breath, hating the fact that he could not fire him without another old man scolding him.
“Fool” Nuru muttered as he went to his office to make a private call.
The phone rang twice as he walked over to his door and locked it.
“Good day Sir” Nuru said into the phone.
“We are secured?” it was the thick voice.
“Yes Sir, we are. It is done” Nuru continued, eagerly waiting for some kind of commendation.
“Has this been confirmed?” it was the voice.
“Yes, it has been confirmed. There are all gone. Yes, we can continue with the program”
“Good” and the line went dead.
Nuru sat for a moment, reeling in the news before calling his assistant.
He was too old to write press releases.

*****
23rd February, 2011 – Charity Ajero’s Maitama Residence

The breaking news on the screen jotted Charity from her bed as she rushed for the remote control in her lingerie. She was preparing for the trip to the Castle with Victor and had instructed her temporary driver, Bantu to get ready to drive them to Ondo State.
“There has been a bomb explosion at the mausoleum of late Chief Badmus Bello in the Castle. While the total number of casualties is yet to be determined by the police, report say 226 people are dead and several others injured. In a new list, Mr. Tamiyu Samson, Minister of Information representing the President, ex-leaders and President Abdulrasak Abubakar, Gana Itunu Konamu and Shola Ige Adebowale, business man Wole Jim, Governors of Bauchi, Taraba, Kogi, Nassarawa and Oyo state were said to have been among the dignitaries in attendance. Others include Minister of Power, Transport, Water Resources, Agriculture, Aviation and the chief Imam. There has been no confirmation that they are indeed causalities but they are indications that they were at the site at the of the attack. The terrorist group, the Boko Haram are yet to make any claim however. We await word from the Presidency on this barbaric attack and updates on the identity of the casualties from the police. The question on the minds of many is “what is the implication of an attack on this magnitude on the country?” Stay tuned as we bring more on this development. My name is Kingsely Maduike for FTV News” the reporter said, ending the update.
Goose pimples ran up her limbs as she stood fixated, eyes glued to the television. How possible was this? She wondered, a little shaken at the names. Her phone rang just as she picked it up to make a call.
“I suppose you have seen the news” it was a female voice.
“You did not tell me this was going to happen” she accused, not raising her voice.
“I had nothing to do with this” the female voice clarified.
“Then who would do something like this?” she asked, getting agitated.
“My sister”
“Do I thank her for killing those responsible for my father’s death? How would she feel with your demand for Victor, should we still go ahead with the plan?” she asked, temporarily confused. She had taken up the case because she had wanted to shame the memory of the man who, with his friends, had killed her father. Now that those people had been killed, what was the need in continuing to represent her reluctant client?
“You may have gotten your pound of flesh, but I have not gotten mine. You will be wise to continue as planned” the female voice who had introduced herself simply as Naomi and mother to her client threatened.
“But at this time? I suggest this blows over” she said, thinking fast.
“You will do as I say. Check your email. You are to follow the instructions” the voice directed firmly.
“And if I don’t?” she managed to challenge the female voice.
“Let’s say you won’t be alive to find out” the line went dead.
Rushing over to her office downstairs, she accessed her mail.
Downloading the attachment, she closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer.
Scanning through the document, she nearly bit her tongue as she stopped herself in time from crying out.
She was to organize a press release to expose illegitimate offspring of the late Badmus and demand that his net worth be published and shared equally between his legal heirs.
There were two issues – Calling for the published net worth of the man who expose the Government in dirty dealings. And she had been blessed with three more claimants. More update soon, the email ended.
She was caught in her web of revenge

******
23rd February, 2011 – Alhaja Residence, several buildings from bomb blast

The moment she heard the bomb explosion go off far in the distance, she smiled underneath her veil as she lay on her bed, about a thousand meters away from the blast. She had cried herself to exhaustion and got hysterical when they had suggested that the burial ceremony start. Her doctor had given her tranquilizers and recommended bed rest after she had staged a major breakdown.
Josephine Ohiemi rubbed her red nose and took a deep satisfying breath. The deed was done.
After 29 years of marriage to Chief Badmus Bello, she had successfully killed him and his cohorts. Now, all she had to do was inherit the empire, the legacy that she had killed her sister for.
It would only be a matter of days before that silly lawyer will dance to her tune and change the Will.
She smiled.
If only her good for nothing sister was alive to see her victory.
Yes, she had killed Florence. She had destroyed her sister and married Badmus, the lowly worm.
There was nothing she, Josephine Ohiemi, now Alhaja Kudirat Sadika Bello could not accomplish if she put her mind to it. Her phone rang then. She picked it.
“I suppose congratulations are in order” it was the thick voice.
“I suppose so” she said proudly, sniffing.
“We are not crying, are we?” the voice teased.
“Only because we are happy” she replied proudly.
“Yes, one should cry for joy. Abubakar and Ige were beginning to get really personal” the thick voice said slowly referring to the ex -Presidents Abdulrasak Abubakar and Shola Ige Adebowale who were taking a strong stand against their former colleagues.
“They were. Flies that refuse heed follows the corpse to the grave, literally” she said in a little chuckle.
“They certainly do Madam Badmus, I fear you” it was a tease but the owner of the voice knew better. A woman who single-handedly kill her husband in order to achieve the feat she had achieved wasn’t a woman to be toyed with.
“Good. In the next few weeks, I expect some sort of power shuffle”
“Yes”
“Good. Now I shall continue to play the widow”
“My condolences” he joked and she laughed lightly.
“Thank you” she said as she slipped into deep sleep.
It was time to get rid of the mastermind.

*****
23rd February, 2011 – Praslin, Seychelles

Florence Ohiemi sat watching the screen quietly and sipping on her homemade pineapple juice.
The news of his death and bomb blast did not come as a surprise to Florence. She knew what her twin sister was capable of and had since waited for this day.
Josephine had reached her zenith but it would be her destiny to bring her down.
There was no forgiveness.
There would be no mercy.
It was time to play a game of the dead.
“Now we play” she said over the rim of her glass.
“Now is my time”

*****
M.O.T.I.V.E.S is written by;
Uneñ Ameji
Author of Memoirs of a Justified Gold Digger on Amazon.com
See new book Love on the 25th on Okadabooks http://goo.gl/hmsKnv
W: http://bit.ly/1Il23U3
T: https://twitter.com/UnenAmeji

*****

Next week!

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