M.O.T.I.V.E.S – Episode 8 (Series Finale)

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Hey guys!

The final episode of M.O.T.I.V.E.S by Uneñ Ameji is here. As promised, this episode is unusually long. The compiled e-Book will be available for downloads soonest. We will keep you posted on that. Without plenty yarns, have fun and don’t forget to recommend reading.

M.O.T.I.V.E.S, a story set in old and modern-day Nigeria, is a riveting, stimulating, suspense-filled tale of a myriad of absorbing characters with Uneñ Ameji’s fluid style of delivering engaging stories of greed, love, lust and power that leaves her audience on the edge of their seats, guessing and usually clamoring for more.

The story features Nigerian Tycoon and powerhouse Bello Badmus. A man who gave power as he willed, a man who controlled Presidents, a man who put men and monsters in seats of power; Florence Ohiemi aka Naomi Mambutu and her identical evil twin Josephine Ohiemi aka KudiraT Sadika Bello who are ever in battle of wills – good and evil, where evil prevails.

In a thrilling twist, the events likened to a classic game of chess sees each piece on the board take power and lose it and take it all over again. An illusion of power, an illusion of control.

Find out if good or evil prevails after all.

Read all Episodes here

*****
Episode 8 – Series Finale

Victor Dakar – 28th August, 2011

“Business tycoon’s illegitimate son inherits estate” – News Dailys
“Chief Badmus Bello, Most Influential man in Africa disinherit family, names illegitimate son as next of Kin” – The Compatriot
“Pastor of TrueWord Evangelical Church of all Missions disinherited, mistress with love child revealed, wife files for divorce” – The True News
“Kole Badmus found dead in UK apartment, killer arrested” Concord Times
“Son, illegitimate heir to resume office, commission gas plant in Benin”
“President orders immediate relocation of the command center to Mubi, partners bordering countries” National Conscience

Several weeks after the reading of the Will at The Castle and Victor was still reeling from the effect. The increasingly sensitive expectations, suspicious managerial appointments, constant change of residence and flying out to The Castle every other week left him emotionally and physically tired. The unexpected silence from his mother despite her promise to explain why she walked him out of her life twelve years ago was more than maddening, if not frustrating. What ever happened to Bello’s wife? and her children? He wanted to know. The silence was uneasy and whenever he brought it up, she would say she had since released them. Where were they if she released? He expected some form of resistance but for the past months, it had been anything but that.
He roamed the premises of the new residence his mother had ordered they stay, like a caged cat. He had so many questions and unfortunately he wasn’t getting them. The resounding silence that answered back every single time the questions and doubt came to him made him want to scream and curse but he couldn’t. The last thing he wanted to look like was a weakling. Somehow Charity made him want to be stronger, better and that was enough for him.
He had waited with abated breath days after the reading of the Will for the headlines. And they didn’t disappoint him. They were all about him and Kudirat Bello but none about their arrest. That was suspicious but that was the least of his problem. His problem was overseeing his father’s company. His call to appoint new Board members was met without a fight and now the ongoing acquisition process left him winded. He remembered the headlines again, made up new ones and took a deep breath. Definitely it was going to look fishy – selling his father’s company barely five months after taking over as the Chief Executive Officer. He was highly conflicted.
The headlines went from hateful to furious, then to comical in the last months. It was as if the News houses wanted to outdo each other with derogatory headlines about him and Bello’s wife. The media had also been agog with tales of the Pastor Debola who had an affair with a church member and a bastard son. The embittered wife had since taken him to the cleaners but report was that the man was yet to defend himself nor did he show up at preliminary hearings. If there was ever a time he regretted the day he met Charity, it was now.
“You mustn’t look so sad” it was Charity in his boxers and cropped sleeveless see-through chiffon blouse coming up behind him as he walked in the cool garden. The two had remained inseparable since the reading of the Will and he was beginning to love and hate her at the same time.
“What’s fucking wrong with picking up your phone and calling your son?” he voiced loudly the moment she offered him the hot mug of black coffee she was carrying from the house.
Charity was also tired of the series of calls and instructions Naomi passed across. If it was not submitting a petition at the court, it was leaving a new house in the dead of the night. Moreover Victor was beginning to irritate her with his insistence whining. Naomi was his mother after all and with her new siblings, she absolutely refused to be dragged further into the Bello Badmus vortex.
He was dead and the group of evil men who were involved in her father’s disgraceful death lay in burnt pieces. As far she was concerned, she had gotten her revenge. All she wanted now was her Grandma and something told her Naomi would not find her in-house sex activity with her son so agreeable. It was time to cut the cord – whatever that meant.
In the last months, she had also endured series of outings at the Federal High Court following Naomi’s directions to initiate legal proceedings contesting the content of Bello Badmus’s Will. The woman was highly contradictory. Why would one contest a Will that left her son the sole heir? To what end? But she did not question the directive and she had filed the petition that was leaked to the press causing another week of embarrassing headlines. That also was the beginning of the Court house charade that lasted months. She served petitions refraining Victor from taking over his inheritance until a paternity test be carried out, petitions preventing him for carrying out his duties, petitions preventing for even stepping in the Castle. The result was always the same – Denied.
As a legal representative to her siblings, she had simply made a mockery of herself. The Newspapers and soft sells had a good time calling her degrading names even going as far as comparing her to her greedy father. The judge had thrown out the petition after she failed to provide her clients for testing. A fault of Naomi who wouldn’t produce the Pastor who was having his own episode of shaming and Laide whose mansion was being repossessed by the bank.
It was all happening so fast.
How the gossip magazine got their stories about her relationship with her clients didn’t bother Charity. She knew Naomi was playing a game but what game? The media loved the sordid tale of affair between her father, Nigeria’s top activist George Ajero and wife of Chief Badmus, Kudirat Bello. Their lives splashed across soft sells and major Newspaper houses were a distraction to what was going on at The Castle. It wasn’t long before Nollywood titles such as Corporate Whore in Hasso Rock made top Naira in the market.
If there was an angle to the circus, Charity was beginning to suspect that Naomi was using the distraction to her advantage and it wasn’t until Naomi told Victor to nominate new Board members and had instructed her to head the merger and acquisition team for the purpose of an outright take-over while offering a ridiculous price Naomi referred to as a bailout did she realize the grand plan of the woman. Naomi Mambutu wanted Bello Badmus’s company and had worked tirelessly to get it. One had to respect the woman’s tenacity.
“It is going to be fine” she reassured Victor by rubbing his back as she moved to go back to the house. Victor knew he was going to sign the finalized agreement in less than 24 hours and he was agitated. He was torn between preserving his father’s legacy and acting on the instructions of his manipulative mother.
“I am tired of being caught in the middle of all these” he said as he stopped her by holding on to her upper arm, stopping her from leaving.
“Me and you both” Charity tried a smile that was plastered on her face that was suffering from a major breakout.
“What does she want with his company? I can’t understand why she would keep moving us, getting all those people voted in and buying the company?” he struggled to understand and for a moment, Charity saw the conflicted child.
“Either ways, you get a good percentage. You are her son after all. What does it matter who has the company?” Charity voiced, looking away as Victor moved closer to lift her chin.
“I don’t care about being on the Board or working in any of their companies. I know she is using me and will throw me out again. She has done it before” he watched her bite her lower lips and smiled.
“You don’t believe me” he noted throwing the cup of hot coffee on the perfect lawn.
“I should?” she asked with a small smile.
“Yes, yes you should” he gave a rare smile as he found her hands and held her softly, massaging them in circles.
“Don’t” she said prying her hands from his manipulation.
“What are you going to do when all this is over?” Victor asked as they stared at each other.
“Is there an end in sight?” Charity chuckled.
“I should hope so” Victor chuckled as well and she laughed.
“Well, I will take a vacation with my grandmother” Charity said wistfully
“You have a grandmother…where is she?”
“Oh I don’t know” she shook her
“What do you mean you don’t know?” he asked finding her eyes shifting around without focusing on him.
“Naomi has her” she stated painfully, looking at her feet before removing her hands and walking back to the three bedroom bungalow sitting on a large green perfectly mowed lawn.
Victor stood watching her walk away. He didn’t stand a chance with her, his parents made sure of that.
Angered, he made to go after her when he noticed the greyish green metallic gate open and black sedan drove in.
It was his mother.
“About time too” he muttered under his breath as he watched the car drive into the parking lot.
*****

Florence Ohiemi, 26th August, 2011

Florence knew the decision to buy the company didn’t go down well with Victor. The decision was arrived at after she listened to Bello’s plan at getting rid of her and her son. Moreover, with the series of meetings she had attended with Jafal, she came to realize that several subsidiaries were mainly a cover for the funds that somehow found their way to purchasing arms and training more recruits. It funded their operations and buying the company was the only legal and smart way of cutting off the funding of the terrorists activities. She knew that to stop flow of funds, she had to handle the affairs of the company. The chip she had left behind on impulse after recording the meeting had brought her the greatest revelation and idea. Every other meeting, she improved to include photos and videos. If she was going to get Bello, she damn well was going all rhw way. All she had to do now was get Inale who remained adamant at being called Victor aware of the the situation.
Bello had been supportive over the past months, teaching her how to behave like Kudirat so that the 7-man group would not discover she was an impostor. Florence laughed at such lessons. Who was he fooling? Himself definitely. He acted as one who had her interest at heart. She followed Jafal to several meetings with the service chiefs, the arms dealers and group members. It wasn’t surprising to find sponsors from international community at such meeting and as always, she recorded the conversation on her phone and where possible took discrete photographs of the faces of the men she didn’t know. Every meeting was more deadly than the last. She knew she was risking her life but what had to be done had to be done.
When she had gathered enough evidence, she had excused herself by saying she needed to take care of domestic issues. Akin, the Vice President was more than happy to follow Jafal on his meetings.
“I see that your illegitimate son is still handling affairs” it was Jafal on their last trip together.
“It seems I must be present or do everything myself” she said refering to failure of her hit men to carry out the assignment.
“You must let the boy go soon. We are going to need more funds after the blast and you must be positioned to get us the funds” Jafal said almost in a sneer. If Florence had not heard the discussion Jafal and Bello had about her, she would have believed she was being taken serious. But it all worked to her advantage.
The irony was, while they thought they were playing her, she was the one playing them. It suited her well enough. On one hand, she was taking over his company, on the other she was gathering enough evidence to nail their coffins firm and save millions of lives that would be at stake if their plans succeeded. The only problem however was that she had no idea when the attack was going to happen. Somehow, they never mentioned it in their meetings.
“Make sure the boy is gone within a week. We can’t hold off any longer” it was Jafal as she got into her private car she had waiting for her at the Nnamdi Azikiwe airport.
“That will be done Sir” she said playful and left him there.
“Ganbo, where is my son now?” she asked her ever faithful driver and body-guard of over thirty years. He had been with her through the years and his loyalty rivaled none.
“I took them to a new place” he answered as he greeted her and opened the door for her.
“Take me there please” she said as they left the airport.
“We are being followed Ma” he said as he watched a car follow them out of the airport.
“Lose him” she directed almost politely.
“Yes Ma” and he did lose the tinted car.
It was only fair that she played their game and win them at it.
The need to see Victor as soon as possible arose because he refused to sign the document after the newly inaugurated Board approved the sale and witnesses had signed their part. Charity made sure of it but failed to persuade or force her son. She knew of their affair but that was not an issue she bothered about. She smiled as she saw him stand impossibly tall and proud. If only he knew.
She came out as soon as Ganbo parked and opened the door for her. She stretched and gave a tiring smile. She was exhausted but she knew it was not yet time for rest. She had few more errands to run.
She walked in her unhurried fashion to the entrance of the house. He stood watching her approach, hands in pocket, lips held tight.
“Such a cozy property” she tried a jab. He didn’t return it. They stared at each other wearily before she smiled and nodded at Charity who came out on hearing the car drive in
“Good evening mother” he greeted finally as she beamed at him before walking past him to the house. They followed her.
“So how have you been?” Florence tried a chit-chat as she sat down comfortably taking in the quiet surrounding. Charity offered a drink she refused to take. There were no friends in the game.
“As you have commanded” Victor returned with a childish air. Florence smiled passively as she made to get her phone from her bag, unhurried.
“I suspect you have issues with signing the document” Florence said to no one in particular.
“I would hesitate too if I were you. However you must believe the worst of me to think I will take over a man’s life work without good cause. I have been away a lot because there were things, people I had to meet, information that would benefit a lot of us” she continued leisurely as she found the files she was looking for on her phone.
“I would like you both to listen to these recordings and watch the videos. Let me know if you still have issues signing the documents. Charity, you have done well. The balance of your fees will be paid into your account but first, you two will be flown out tomorrow” Florence stated easily as if she were talking to her staff.
“Is she doing well?” Charity’s voice shook, her eyes misting at the thought of finally seeing her grandmother, not believing that the end had come, on a day she least expected it.
“What makes you so sure that I am going to sign those documents?” Victor asked, cocky as he stood up at her signal.
“This will” Florence said as she pressed the play button, dropped her phone and leaned back with eyes closed.
The voices flooding the cozy cream-colored room and warm red furniture soon had Victor shifting and looking at the face of his mother. Every word, every minute was revelatory. Charity and Victor sat frozen to their seats, goose pimples running on the surface of their skin as plans after plans were revealed. As one meeting finished, Florence would press the next button and more of the plans were revealed until it got to the voice recording of Bello Badmus and Jafal plotting their death.
80 minutes of listening to the recording and watching raw footage of videos from her top-level meetings achieved the effect she knew was needed to push the sales through. Of course she could decide to force him into signing the documents but it wasn’t necessary. The boy should know exactly why he had to sell his father’s company and shouldn’t be denied the exhilarating feeling of revenge.
Victor sat stunned as the last recording played out. Without being told, he knew who the person in the last recording was and he knew exactly what they meant when they said there was need to get rid of him.
“You understand why I do what I do now?” it was Florence putting her phone into her bag.
“Bello Badmus is alive?” it was more of a statement than a question. Charity knew that voice in her sleep.
“Yes” Florence confirmed.
“And he wants me dead” Victor completed standing up and squeezing his eyes shot. The rush of emotions blinded him momentarily. His own father wanted him dead – for a company he didn’t even want.
“I didn’t ask him to make me his heir! Why did he have to make me his heir only for him to turn around and kill me?” it was a shout.
“I think he enjoys the game he plays” it was Florence, calm.
“He is going to kill you too. You knew he was alive?” he asked again, taking a new sofa.
“I knew he was alive, I was aware of the simple plan of him playing dead so that we could catch my evil sister and expose her lies and plans to eliminate him for the cabal. It was for a good cause he said. I had no idea Josephine was going to go big with her bomb blast. I suppose it served his purpose just as well” Florence wasn’t sure anymore on why she had agreed with him to work on the plan of making her sister pay for her deeds. The game plan had since changed and she knew Bello had been taking her for a ride.
“What is the story with your sister?” Victor asked, watching his mother carefully as he saw a rush of cloud wash down her countenance.
“She sold me to some spiritualist when I was pregnant with you. She married your father after destroying our relationship. She killed my assistant and tried to kill you the day I sent you away, with the help of Charity’s father of course. She would have killed you when you started working at The Castle as a driver. I had Ganbo frame you up and bail you out the next day. I couldn’t allow her find you in your father’s employment. Ganbo leaves you for a week and you find yourself some trouble no?” Florence gave a small smile as she remembered the panic attack she had suffered when Ganbo who had taken a leave of one week reported on resumption that her son was now in employment of Bello Badmus. She had sacked Ganbo’s replacement with immediate effect.
Charity looked away as Florence looked at her when she mentioned her father being part of the plan to eliminate Florence and her son.
“So I take you have scores to settle with your sister” Victor said as he watched his mother with awe.
“That is correct” Florence answered simply.
“After working with him, Bello wants you dead” Victor repeated
“From his conversation, yes”
“Why?” Victor pressed.
“Why is the devil evil?” Florence answered
“Because he is the devil?” Victor tried dry humor and they shared a private chuckle.
“Exactly”
“So what is the plan?”
“Get those documents signed and get you out of here” Florence sat up.
“I mean about you” Victor continued
“I have work to do” Florence volunteered freely.
“Those people, they are responsible for the terror in the North East” Victor said after a moment of silence. He saw his mother in new light and respect. He knew that to have had access to the recording, she must have taken risks. Not only had she saved their lives, she had gone at the expense of her life to save the State. He was proud to call her mother.
“Yes”
“And you intend to expose them” he questioned like a little child, Charity was getting irritated at the questions.
“That’s the plan” Florence smiled at the easy rapport and wondered what their relationship would have been like if there were no craziness.
“How do you intend to do that?” it was Charity.
“I may have to find a way to the President but even he can’t be trusted. He may be compromised”
“I may know someone” she supplied helpfully.
“And who is he?”
“She. Omoni Osagie” Charity continued.
“How sure are you about her integrity?” Florence was skeptical and watching for signs of betrayal.
“I can stake my life on it” Charity vouched strongly
“And how do you know this Omoni?” Florence asked
“She saved my life, paid my way through law school and she is married to Peter Osagie” she offered as they both looked at her with blank stares. “The acting Director General of the DDSS” she volunteered.
“We should set up the meeting” it was Florence. She had heard that name mentioned behind Jafal’s back by the other members of the group but she wondered why they all couldn’t mention his name in Jafal’s presence. The joke was that this man was the only one who could stop Jafal. If this was the man, it was good.
“We should” Victor added looking at his mother before breaking into a full smile at her raised eyebrows.
There was no need for words. When life is threatened by a common enemy, forces are joined. Florence had no doubt about that.
*****

Bello Badmus – 26th August, 2011
Bello Badmus sat in his recliner chair and sipped his drink. All was working according to plan.
Daba had finally located where Florence had taken Kudirat and her children. The same building! She seemed to be more careful than usual at first then she got careless. He found it surprisingly though that she stayed away from Inale. If she did, Daba did not report it.
Florence entertained him, with her double entrees and eagerness at playing his wife and her twin sister, Kudirat at the same time. He laughed out loud as he remembered the first time he met her. He remembered the first night he had her, how eager and naive she had been – eager to please, eager to be pleased. He remembered the bright pink coloration of her labia the first time he had kissed her maiden head. It was breathing hot and shy. He smiled as he remembered the dark skin coloration of Josephine’s labia and mole just beneath her abdomen. The sisters maybe identical but they deferred where only him knew. Their sex.
He had figured that out the next semester after his first night with Josephine. At the beginning of the semester in January, Josephine was impersonating Florence, coming as Florence to his house, asking that they forget about her sister – Josephine and harping on about continuing from where they stopped. He knew Florence would never push that much but then it had not dawned on him. The feeling and conversations were simply different and when they made love, it was too hurried and loud. Florence was anything but loud.
Night and after night until he stumbled on it. The mole and coloration.
His first reaction had been anger at being played and he had thought about going to confront her. If the sisters were playing on his intelligence, it was time to stop it. But when he told Sule, his closest step-brother, Sule had laughed and told him to play along and date the two sisters. If they wanted a game, Sule suggested he played along. The idea had been perfect, even desired but no matter who he met, there was the mole and the dark coloration. And the sex was fast, loud and sweaty. It was then he began to suspect that Florence wasn’t Florence but Josephine. After being pressed, Josephine (now impersonating Florence) revealed that her twin sister – Josephine had deferred her admission from nursing school. That had been the lie that raised his antenna. He should have called her on it but then he let the game play for so long that he let it continue. After all he was going to get rid of her when he got tired of the game.
Why he had gone ahead with the game of deceit to the point of marrying Josephine, he never knew. Perhaps it was because he wanted to hurt Florence for deserting him. After few months, he went back to his old style of having many girls on campus. When Josephine claimed she was pregnant for him, he knew the game was over and he had lost. Confronting her about impersonation her left Josephine threatening to get him kicked out of school and had gone ahead to ingrain herself with his father. His father had immediately insisted they marry and when Josephine had decided to convert to Islam for the sake of unity, his father was ecstatic.
He regretted playing the game but there was nothing he could do. They were married months later and both of them had continued having affairs until Josephine had fallen in love with George. There was no way he was going to let her enjoy being in love when she had denied him the same. The affair with George had been to spite him, he was sure. He was not a jealous man but even he had pride and there was no way he would allow himself be cuckolded. Nothing had made him happier than when the he-goat had been killed. It was the perfect punishment for the crime of impersonation and adultery.
When his father died shortly after their marriage, Bello began his search for Florence but she had simply vanished. It was not until Naomi Mambutu appeared on the radar after so many years that he found who he was looking for.
The random checks of high-profile investors in his multimillion Naira produced the woman he had being looking for for years. Florence was Naomi Mambutu and like a bee to a flower, he couldn’t resist going after her once more.
The walk on the beach in Seychelles had been planned. With Sekinat in his hands as the perfect excuse to be on a holiday, he walked into her blindly on a cool breezy day. The breath had gone off her lungs as soon as she saw him and he could see her trying to decide what cause of action. He didn’t allow her though.
“Florence” he had called, surprised and holding on to her hand as he pulled her up.
“What?” Florence muttered, looking away.
“Florence Ohiemi!” he continued holding her, ignoring Sekinat who was always more than eager to follow him around the world offering bald pussy service.
“My name is Naomi”
“Naomi Mambutu? A major shareholder in my company?” he asked, eyes fixed on hers. Florence had smiled then and he had too.
“Naomi, yes” she recovered, shaking his hand.
“I know you are Naomi Mambutu but to me, you are Florence”
“Who is Florence?”
“The first and only woman I ever loved” he said casually still watching for a crack in her face.
“I see” she said walking away, baffled at his utterance and shaking at facing Bello so many miles away from home and unprepared.
“You look so much like her” he continued, trailing after her.
“I am sure” Florence answered as she walked to her house by the beach.
“Please tell me. You are Florence. I know you are and I am not going anywhere unless you tell me who you really are” he said simply, looking boyish with grey hair and ridiculously long eyelashes and fading pink lips.
“I am Naomi Mambutu and I don’t know what or who you talking about” Florence had feigned ignorance and gone into her beach house.
Bello had smiled at her denial and remembered what it had felt like to chase her over thirty years. Sekinat was sent back to Nigeria the next morning.
He would court Naomi Mambutu the rest of the week. Offering rides, flying her out to lunch, sitting outside her house at sunset and sharing a cold bottle of wine as they shared tales of travels, funny experiences and favorite foods. He was sure Florence had fallen again. The first night they kissed under the receding moon, he knew she was Florence and when he had her in bed that night, his first point of call was her labia. He was not wrong..…they were bright pink, hot and shy.
He had found his Florence.
When she revealed she was indeed Florence and had a son for him, he knew it was not long before things changed. Her tale of finding him married to her sister, George’s affair with his wife and what hand she had in setting him up for his final fall flowed freely. The weeks that followed, he revealed that Josephine had plans to kill him for the cabal and take control of investments possibly to fund the budding terrorism in the State and like his sweet naive mouse, she had swallowed his story and she had gone with the flow.
It was sad that her darling son was going to go but now that he had caught a glimpse of his son in the news, he was having a rethink. Perhaps he could let the boy live. The problem was getting him to do what he wanted. Would he be as pliant and cooperative as his mother? What would he do if he found out that the subsidiaries were covers for illicit operations? What would Florence do? Leave him? Inale was definitely going to the press. He couldn’t allow that. They had to go. Too much at stake and he was one who loathed loose ends.
Just then, the business headline news caught his attention. The Newscaster was saying the sale of his company had being finalized and the new company was being introduced shortly before a clip of Victor shaking an unknown man filled his screen. He knew the company that bought his company. It was Naomi’s!
His roar was enough to bring the house down as he sped into his room where Florence had been last night.
“Florence! Florence!! Naomi!” he called furiously, his heart beat increasing exponentially as Daba came forward.
“Where is she?”
“She has gone out”
“When?” he asked already planning
“Since morning”
“I see” Bello knew something was wrong.
“Get ready, call Sekinat, I need you both for a quick trip” he said as he walked to his room and opened his electronic save hidden behind Florence’s painting.
*****

Josephine Ohiemi – 28th August, 2011

Josephine had since given up on escaping or being released. It had been months since Florence had locked her up in the private quarters. The environment was always quiet, humming.
Some days she was convinced Florence had forgotten about her and other days she waited for the day she would come and pull the trigger. The recent change in treatment was welcomed but worrisome too.
Her meals had changed and she was allowed to bath and change into clothes provided for her. It was after such mornings that she found Florence sitting in her cleaned new room.
“You startled me” Josephine said as she came into the room from the bathroom.
“What did I ever do to you?” it was Florence, sitting on the side single sofa and watching her sister move around the room in her pair of white cotton trousers and navy blue blouse.
“What?”
“Your countless plans to kill me, taking what belongs to me…..all of it, Why?” Florence asked as she unfolded her arms to reveal a pistol. Josephine froze.
“Florence” she called gently, taking a seat on the bed as Florence signaled her to.
“Yes, I am listening”
“Don’t use that, please” Josephine begged.
“That’s a first. The deadly Josephine, wife of influential Bello Badmus, begging” Florence said, waving the gun.
“Florence, you need to understand it wasn’t about you. It was about me, I was just evil” Josephine excused
“I was hoping you wouldn’t use the ‘this has got nothing to do with you’ line” Florence mimicked and stood up as Josephine flinched. After five months in captivity with four of those months living in deplorable condition, Josephine knew Florence was not the person she knew.
Florence watched her sister squirm and smiled. It was surprising that she lived her life for this moment and now that it was here, she wondered why she had wasted her emotions on her all those years. Her drive for revenge on her sister and Bello had kept her up at night, planning, scheming. She felt better as Victor and Charity were flown out that morning. She had driven herself out of Bello’s mini Estate after instructing Ganbo to load his private plane with explosives in the dead of the night before asking him to take the evidence to the man in Mubi. She remembered the serene happy look on Bello’s face as she left him that morning. It would be the last look she would remember him with.
“I see you haven’t heard the news” it was Florence, going back to sit down. The urge to pull the trigger since leaving her.
“No” Josephine answered shaking her head.
“Bello is alive”
“Bello is dead” Josephine said darkly.
“No, he is not but he will soon be” Florence confirmed, eyes firmly on her sister with the ready silencer.
“I killed him. He was blown up” Josephine argued
“You blew up an empty casket”
“No. He was pushed. I arranged that”
“You didn’t push himself Josephine. Moreover, he was on to you from the beginning, well not exactly from the beginning. At some point, I believe Jafal must have sold you out for the seat of the President”
“That is not possible. I saw him lie in that coffin!” Josephine argued
“Are you sure it was Bello you really saw him?” Florence laughed at the expression on her sister’s face. It was the one of being played a terrible joke.
“No” it was barely above a whisper.
“Your husband is alive sweet sister and he has been really busy with Jafal”
“And you? How do you know all these?”
“I have been busy as well” Florence gave a small smile as she pointed the gun at her sister again.
“Wait! Before you shoot me, where are they?”
“Who?” Florence chuckled knowingly.
“Where are my children? Please” it was the first time Josephine referred to her children with the look of utter surrender on her face.
“They are safe. I don’t know for how long though. Somehow, Bello knows where they are and I heard him say he was going to kill them and then you, if I don’t get to it soon”
“Please don’t let him get to them. They have nothing to do with this and Kole needs to be warned”
“Kole is dead Jose” Florence informed pitifully.
“Noo! Noooo!!” she shouted and began to shake and sob. Kole was her favorite mostly because he reminded her of his father, her first love.
“Nooooo! Noooooooo!!” Josephine broke down in tears, heartbreaking sobs escaping her lips. Florence sat through it.
“How did it happen?” Josephine asked finally, standing up and going to the water dispenser that had been placed in her room the night before. She knew she had to distract Florence and collect the gun from her hand. A plan came to her. It was now or never. She chose now.
“He was slaughtered in his UK apartment. His body found after many days” Florence said, standing up noiselessly as she watched her sister fill the glass cup. She was smiling.
“Of course he did! The bastard, the devil, I will kill him, I will kill him” she cried, swearing, her eyes erstwhile downcast shone with revenge and in a blink of an eye turned around to pour the glass of hot water on Florence with the intention of blinding her to take the gun.
Only it wasn’t hot water. The water dispenser had been tampered with to produce only lukewarm water. The look on Josephine face as she noticed Florence standing without flinching gave Florence all the joy in the world as she shot her sister on her right shoulder blade.
Josephine screamed at the impact of the bullet, her shoulder blades enveloping in heat and pain as she landed on the perfectly laid white bed.
“I was hoping you would do that”
“Florence, Florence, don’t. Please I beg you”
“Close your eyes, pray for forgiveness from where you may get it”
“Florence please, forgive me”
“I will see you in the afterlife. Say hi to Bello and George” Florence said wickedly before pulling the trigger at pointblank range.
The scream that started died in Josephine’s throat and calm soon returned to the room.
*****

Peter Osagie – Mubi, 28th August, 2011
It was Farah who told Peter to take residence with the traditional bone setter who served the community in his red old hut built as an attachment to new stalls in the old community market that had since grown to include new houses and stalls for traders. The house attached in the rowdy community had dried herbs and animal parts hanging out in the open.
Peter had arrived Mubi with his team in disguise. With grown beards and dirty kaftans, they made their way to the man who was to give them a cover. Farah swore he trusted the old man and he knew they would blend into the community with the old man as their master. But it was a set up. Farah’s identity had been compromised and for his life, he had told Peter what Yakubu told him to. Although Farah did not understand why his boss and colleagues had to be put under surveillance, he knew that their assignment had been compromised but there was nothing he could do about it especially as he had been tied among the other captives.
On arrival in April, the old man had received them warmly as he took to the task of setting the bone of one of the locals. That night, he had discussed the problem of the insurgent with Peter deeply, speaking in Hausa and vigorously defending the people taking the law into their hands and fighting the Boko Haram. The old Mallam pointed fingers at the governors and financial faceless backers who unfortunately were untouchable.
Peter followed the story quietly and seemed interested in what the man had to say although he was unconvinced. He couldn’t quite place it but he knew something was amiss.
“These people caused this menace, now it has become war, they leave the community to pay for it” he said indignantly in good English. Peter was surprised at his clarity of facts but refused to show his shock or question his sources.
Days turned to weeks and weeks into months and still they were not closer to real evidence of sabotage than they were when they came. It was one attack after another, the terror spreading and residents going about their daily activities with trepidation. The so-called command center gathered no intelligence that was substantial, if anything it seemed it was a hopeless cause with soldiers conducting themselves without rules of engagement and high-profile officers reporting wrong figures to the Head Quarters and news outlet. The figure of casualty was always reduced and number of bomb blasts reported rarely reflected the sporadic explosions across the state.
In reality, the soldiers were losing ground and the superior fire power of the Boko Haram members more than ever convinced Peter there was a plan for show down soon. The problem was timing.
Omoni was still adamant about her position on him being at the center of the deadly attacks. He reassured her of his safety times without number when he took breaks to see her. The last time she had evoked a promise. If nothing happened within the next month, he would come back and be with her as her delivery date drew near. And then her call had come in.
“Hey love” he called sweetly moving away from the other occupant of the room to answer her call.
“How’s my favorite husband?”
“Your only husband is sweating and missing you” he replied, smiling into the phone.
“Well, your days of sweating and missing me are over. It seems what you are finding in Mubi is right here in Abuja” she said, smiling and wishing she could see the look on his face.
“What do you mean?” he was on high alert.
“I got a call from Charity, remember her?”
“Yes, yes” Peter barely remembered her.
“She called saying there were voice and video recordings on the sponsors and some photos. She didn’t call names but she vouched for the authenticity of those recordings”
“Names and video recordings of the sponsors of these boys? I have to leave right away”
“No need. I mentioned you were in Mubi Township and the recording is on its way to you. I have not seen it but I have a good feeling about this. I really want you back her with me” she cooed.
“Very soon too”
“It had better”
“And how is he supposed to locate me?”
“I said to find the bone setter in Mubi Township, Mobil Market. The messenger is familiar with the part. You will know him when you see him”
“I hope so”
“I know Rambo” she teased and he laughed.
“Love you”
“Love you too” she returned and dropped the call to go check on her Irish potatoes she was boiling.
She had just finished lunch, barely an hour later when her doorbell rang.
Standing up heavily, she walked to the door and opened it. The man she saw there made her weak at the knees.
*****
Peter tried to call his wife throughout the day but the phone was switched off. How was it possible that her battery was off? Even the guard’s mobile rang off. He worried deeply and was considering making the trip down when his phone rang. It was her thankfully.
“Hello sweetheart” it was Omoni, her voice sounding rasp and heavy. Peter knew immediately something was wrong.
“What is wrong?”
“I …” and the phone was taken from her as she tried to answer the question.
“I suggest you think really carefully before you do anything with that list” it was a voice he would forever detest, that deep dark voice of a killer.
“Jafal” Peter called with heavy breathing.
“Father would be nice. How are you?” Jafal asked, watching his son’s wife shoot daggers at him with her eyes, she was a feisty one.
“If you as much as harm her, a strand of her hair and I swear I will find you and kill you” Peter threatened darkly.
“Common on son, you know I wouldn’t do anything to my grandchild. Congratulations by the way” Jafal dragged, almost laughing. This was the reason a man like him didn’t have a woman. It was always an Achilles’ heel.
“Let her go immediately” Peter commanded hotly, frustrated and trying to hide his fear. He knew what his father was capable of.
“Destroy those tapes and burn those lists son”
“And what tapes are you talking about?” Peter stalled.
“You know what I am talking about. If I do not receive a call to that effect, I am sorry I must vent my anger on someone” Jafal said darkly.
“And how would you know if I destroy these evidence against you that I don’t even have?” he asked, exasperated. He noticed the eyes of one man in the room shift continuously and his chest grew heavy with anger. A mole in the room.
“I have my sources. The ball is in your court. Get back here with your team or say goodbye to your wife and my grandchild. She tells me you are having a baby girl too” Jafal taunted before cutting the call abruptly.
“Jafal! Omoni! Hello, Hello!” Peter flung his phone on the wall and what remained of the phone fell to the ground as he looked around the room and charged at the man in dirty kaftan and brown beards.
“You!” he said rushing the old bone setter, raising him and smashing him on the wall. His group was beside him in a second and prying the old man from his hand. Umoru his second calmed him down.
Peter looked at Umoru, took a deep breath and left him fall to the floor in a boneless heap.
“Let me have your phone” he demanded quietly albeit fearfully.
“I don’t have a phone” he said in Hausa. The slap that would fling the man across the room mixed with the first sound of explosion miles away.
Umoru searched the old man’s body and produced a phone hidden in his girdle.
The old snitch’s phone provided the confirmation that the information indeed was right.
“Lock him up. Get the SWAT team up and send them to my house. My father has kidnapped my wife” Peter commanded before taking the motorcycle and heading to the Mobil market to wait for the list or whoever had it.
*****

Peter Osagie – Mobil Market, 30th August, 2011

The man in sparkling black suit and a definite spring in his step was not missed. Peter waited as he saw the man approach steadily.
“You are looking for the bone setter” it was Peter on the motorcycle waiting in front of the stall which housed the old snitch’s properties. He had since relocated his team to an abandoned blown up cathedral and was keeping the man in one of the pastor’s room that was largely unaffected by the fire.
“Yes” Ganbo answered the stranger and looked closely at the man. He looked like the picture he saw in the papers and online reports of the newly appointed Director-General of the DDSS. If he was not good at disguise himself, he would have missed him.
“Come with me” Peter said and brought the motorcycle to life as Ganbo hopped on and they drove out of the busy market few minutes before the first blast would start.
*****

The team watched the videos and listened to the recordings quietly. The cold silence and anger was targeted at only one man in the room. Ganbo’s father.
Ganbo had seen his father tied up the moment he had stepped into the room. Peter was particularly too angry to explain the situation but Umoru, his second in command explained to a disappointed Ganbo. The old bone setter was Ganbo’s adopted father and mentor. He had been instrumental to Ganbo’s upbringing as a man who stood for what was right and his belief that evil needed good men to stop it. After so many years, Ganbo was disappointed to see that the man he called father and held in high esteem was a traitor to his people, a gun for hire – like himself. The only difference was that he did correct evil and it made all the difference.
“I am disappointed in you father” it was Ganbo, eyes red shot as he watched the man he had admired growing up. It was sad that he had become the monster that spied on his community.
“I had no choice” the old Mallam said, tired and weak from the random beating Peter melted on him whenever he thought of the danger his wife and baby girl were in.
“You do. There is always a choice” Peter swore loudly as they heard the gun fire begin in earnest.
“The attack has started. What do we do now?” it was Umoru, looking at Dante and Scorpio. The duo rarely spoke but were quick with the guns and loyal to a fault.
“Jafal has Omoni, he will kill her if we get the names out” Umoru continued, turning to Peter who was calling the Ibro, the head of the SWAT team Umoru had assembled. Every hour counted and he couldn’t even imagine a world without Omoni. He would piece the beast he swore hotly.
“We must call in reinforcement” Peter was angered because the call wasn’t connecting and was about flinging the locally made phone at the wall. He couldn’t think straight. Umoru collected the phone and began to dial a number.
Peter could only sit still and hear the raid continue in the distance, as the massacre went on.
“Get me Mr. President” Peter announced thickly after 30 minutes of brooding silence. Umoru nodded and made the call.
*****

Eid el Fitr – 30th August, 2011

The day was a black day. Thousands of Nigerians lying dead as rain washed their blood from their stiff bodies.
The multiple attacks started at 9:20am and lasted through the day. The emboldened members went of a rampage, over powering the military barracks and camps in communities in Borno, Yobe and Adamawa states. Several coordinated suicidal attacks in hospitals, markets, mosques, churches, schools, filling stations and motor parks while they raided residential areas and captured women and young girls. The live stream of the destruction brought the country to a standstill leaving the entire country in mourning.
The military had gone on the defensive leaving their posts, running into hiding as the terrorists gunned them down, taking over major towns, burning their barracks, destroying government houses, police stations and major businesses owned by states and private entities. In some communities, the soldiers surrendered willingly as they gunned them down and marched the senior officers along with their convoy.
The mosques and churches had since been blown up and now the number of displayed persons rose from 10,000 to hundreds of thousands as some fled to neighboring countries while others ran into neighboring Nigerian states before coming to the capital to seek help.
Many families separated, mothers looking for their children, fathers looking for their wives, children lost and weeping as images of persons rushing to border towns for safety filled television stations. The international community and news centers had their spot light on the crises in Nigeria leaving many calling for the resignation of the President. He had failed his first and foremost obligation – to protect every Nigerian life and property, analysts say.
In less than 24 hours, the senate had convened and the move to impeach the President began. The citizenry drove the move as the President was yet to make a statement. There was simply no word from the Executive House and people worried that he was not affected by the dastardly act or more plausible, there was nothing he could do about it. He had failed the Nigerian state and must step down. The analyst called for a military government, other called for separation of state while others simply blamed corruption and past leaders.
However a few argued that the act was an attempt to frustrate the government into submission. These few people couldn’t have been any closer to the truth but the notion of simply sabotaging the government for sake of change of power by killing thousands of Nigerians was more than a larger group of activists and Nigerians could swallow and so did what every society would. They took to the streets as they called for resignation of the President, appealed for international help and condemned the attack in the highest regard before they retired at night to take a bottle of cold beer and steaming plate of peppered assorted meat over heated debates before taking to the streets the next day.
*****

The SWAT team moved noiselessly, steadily advancing the hideout where the signal of Omoni’s phone was strong. Omoni had taken an extra phone as she had being bundled out of the house and had sent Peter a text at night, nearly 72 hours after she was allowed to go alone to the bathroom to ease herself.
She had locked herself and sent the text promising to leave the phone transmitting when he was sure the team was ready.
The text had been received after Umoru had patched Peter’s phone up the night of the attack and he had sent it immediately to Ibro. In an hour, Omoni had requested that she be allowed to ease her bowels again. Tired and irritated, the bulky man guarding her allowed her as she placed a call and left the phone on top of the WC floater and returned to the room where she waited.
One by one, the snipers took out the men guarding the facility and Jafal who sat smoking his cigar in his bedroom and wondering where Bello had disappeared to, was the last one to discover they had been discovered. The game was up.
“Where is she?” it was Ibro as the team came in, taking down Daba who was too late in drawing his gun. Ibro advanced into the room, pointing the gun at Jafal at point-blank.
“Somewhere in the building” he said totally relaxed as they cuffed him minutes later and led him out to the bullion van.
The rescue of Omoni was swift and the news of Jafal’s arrest came with the release of the names of the cabal and the tape of violence in the morning of 3rd of July, 2011. Three days after the devilish attack.
Peter had left Mubi on the eve of the blast leaving his team behind. He couldn’t stay another hour despite the threat of possible attack. He drove his bike to the nearest town, passing bodies and meeting roadblocks set up by the members of the sect. when asked who and where he was going, he simply said he had a message from Yakubu to deliver to their sponsor in Taraba state. The lie was well received and immediately they let him pass as he looked and talked like a holy warrior from Syria. He took an abandoned truck at the outskirt of Maiduguri, hot wiring it and driving for hours, stopping only to refill his tank at deserted filling stations.
He arrived Abuja 24 hours after the attack and had attached himself to the rescue team. The moment he found her seating beside the bulky man she had knocked with a stool and shot with his gun, Peter was laughing with relief as he rushed to her side. She smiled as she saw him and as she made to get up, her water broke.
“On my God, Oh my God” she was saying in a laugh as he carried her off her feet and members of the SWAT team came to secure the room.
“Is it time?” he asked as he carried her out of the house and saw his father turn to look at him before they led him away.
“I don’t care. I just want her out already” Omoni gritted her teeth at her first pull of pain.
In less than 8 hours, Peter was a proud father. His fierce baby girl was bellowing and angry at being birthed 3 days early.
“She has your eyes” Peter comforted as he watched the feisty little tyrant sucking angrily at her mother’s milk breasts.
“She sucks like you too” Omoni said as Ibro entered the room.
“Sir, the president is on the line for you” it was Ibro. Peter after the rescue had sent Ibro with the package to be delivered to the president and ordered Ibro to begin arrest of the names on the list.
“Your excellency” he said into the phone as he eyed Omoni who was making a face.
“I am indebted to you. You have saved us, the country and me” he said. One could hear the relief in his voice.
“I believe you owe thanks to a certain Naomi Mambutu” he said repeating the name the man with the limb, Ganbo had told him.
“I will find her and do so accordingly. However, I need to make this official. Seeing as I have no Vice, would you consider having my back for the next 6 years?” the President asked and Peter laughed heartily.
“I am honored Mr. President but I would rather serve than lead” he answered, looking at Omoni.
“Thank you Peter. I shall speak to you soon”
“What was that about?” Omoni eyed her husband with suspicion.
“He wanted a Vice” he said as he hugged both of them, his little one already asleep.
“And you refused” she confirmed.
“And I did”
“Good’ she answered cheerfully as he took her lips in a kiss.
*****

The recording, videos and photos had since become viral as arrests were made from all spheres. Kudirat Bello had been found dead in her house with a suicide note. The arrest of the service chiefs, his Special Adviser – Nurudeen Soyemi, Vice president – Akin Jolojolo, Jafal Asiedu and the well-respected Cleric shook the country amidst cheers of victory. Bello Badmus had since gone missing but to the populace, he was dead.
He was nowhere to be found and Peter knew he still had his work cut out for him. But Bello could wait. His family was paramount and Omoni wouldn’t hear of it. Perhaps in future he told himself as he watched his wife and baby sleep several days after they were discharged from the hospital.
The country turned vicious after initial celebration taking into the streets, armed and advancing on properties of the arrested men and destroying their businesses and properties. The wives, children and relatives of the evil men were rounded up too and brought in for questioning, Debola and Laide Bello inclusive. The Castle was flooded into by angry youths and it took the intervention of the Police to restore calm after burning buildings.
With appointment of new service chiefs, the quick clean of the Boko Haram group was swift. The funding had been stopped and French supplier caught while international help from the U.S, A.U, French and German countries poured. Analysts began a new discourse and the vote of confidence in the President increased as his impeachment proceedings came to a halt.
The new change brought about a change in war tactics and the flush of fleeing Boko Haram members from their camps revealed women and children held under captivity while several hundred members of the sect were killed and over two thousand captured awaiting trial.
And for the first time since Nigeria’s independence, the country was truly one.
*****

Epilogue

Venice, Italy – September, 2011
His sweet insistent tugging of her brown nipples made her toes curl with excitement, heart racing.
“Stop it” Charity stressed pushing him from her exposed breasts.
“I can’t. You make me sane” Victor tickled, pressing his length down her thighs
“My grandmother is right inside” Charity begged as she tried to leave his arms.
“Not until I have you wife” he said hotly before planting himself in her warmth. The words forming on her lips died a natural death as she welcomed him, holding on to him in the private pool as they enjoyed their first as a married couple.
*****

Nigeria, September, 2011
Florence watched as the private helicopter took off from the helipad and gave a small smile thumbing the remote in her hand.
“Goodbye Bello” she said as she pressed the button and the helicopter in the distance blew into pieces. It was only befitting that Bello Badmus died in flames, a bomb blast.

*****

Seme Border – September, 2011
The man in dirty rags crossing the Benin Republic border attracted little attention. He was sitting in the white bus with little luggage and as they were stopped and told to come down for routine checks, he came down and smiled at the patrol guard with the big head and flappy ears.
“Oga mi, abeg give me small money for bread naw” the patrol guard joked when it was his turn.
“Na you suppose give me some money” the man said in terrible pidgin.
“Where are you going?” the patrol man asked as he watched the dirty man, his face familiar.
“I am going to Cotonou” he replied in good English.
“Where is your passport?” the patrol man asked suddenly in haste to continue his search of other passengers as he saw a new car arrived at the border.
“I have it here” he said going to bring it out.
“Go, go, go” he waved the man away as he noticed his colleague approach the new car.
The man in rags smiled as he walked back to the bus and took his seat, scratching his fake horse beard with a deep satisfied smile on his face.
“Adebayor Kokoro Philips indeed” he muttered under his breath as Bello chuckled watching the patrol guard in rear mirror pocket clean crispy notes and waved the new car past, his private thoughts returning to him. His little Sekinat and Daba must have exploded in his private plane, he smiled wearily at his erection. Florence had won in the end, but did she really win? He asked himself humorously.
The old white bus continued its journey steadily and every mile, every hour took Bello closer to his destination – freedom, a new man. A man who could do as he pleased with his Cayman island account. Perhaps he could buy his company back, perhaps he could find Florence or find a new pastime. He chuckled at the revelation. He could do anything he wanted. Anything.
Whoever said evil did not prevail? Especially if he were wise like the ant who saved for rainy days.

THE END

*****
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
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M.O.T.I.V.E.S – Series Finale

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Like they say, all things come to an end. M.O.T.I.V.E.S by Unen Ameji’s is finally at its end.
We would like to thank our readers, new audience and fans for reaching out, liking our pages and helping out in sharing the story as it unfolded. Thank you.

M.O.T.I.V.E.S, a story set in old and modern day Nigeria, is a riveting, stimulating, suspense-filled tale of a myriad of absorbing characters with Unen Ameji’s fluid style of delivering engaging stories of greed, love, lust and power that leaves her audience on the edge of their seats, guessing and usually clamoring for more.

The story features Nigerian Tycoon and powerhouse Bello Badmus. A man who gave power as he willed, a man who controlled Presidents, a man who put men and monsters in seats of power; Florence Ohiemi aka Naomi Mambutu and her identical evil twin Josephine Ohiemi aka KudiraT Sadika Bello who are ever in battle of wills – good and evil, where evil prevails.

In a thrilling twist, the events likened to a classic game of chess sees each piece on the board take power and lose it and take it all over again. An illusion of power, an illusion of control.

The last episode will be posted next week! until then, enjoy the preview.

Read all Episodes here

*****

30th August, 2011 – Eid el Fitr Day

The man in sparkling black suit from Bello Badmus bomb blast stood anonymously in the large excited crowd. He smiled at the thought of how much his life had changed over the years. From an innocent Almajiri boy begging for his next meal to international eye for the underworld. Of course he was not just an eye to the highest bidder but one did not take pleasure in referring to oneself as a hired killer. No. One left such dark titles to those who thrived on giving unnecessary titles.
He smiled again as a young boy in his white kaftan and brown embroidered cap ran past him, shouting to his friends in a small group to wait for him. Ganbo found the brightly colored women, heavily made-up girls in kohl and animated boys running around the large mosque interesting and for a second remembered what it felt like to be part of the community.
Standing, he watched the scene play out before him. The crowd flooding into the mosque for prayers, the market filled with morning activities as big trucks offloaded clothing and fresh tomatoes to stalls along the street and vehicles entering the petrol station slowly, attendants fighting and shouting at a man who had parked his car strategically to shunt the moment the low metal gate of the petrol station opens. It was a familiar sight, the long queues during scarcity; the day being Sallah regardless.
If anyone was paying attention, they would have noticed the awkwardly tall man with the bad shoulder blade trudge past them. They would have noticed he walked briskly, stopping momentarily to ask for directions before continuing on his way, making haste as he moved from street to street, store to store asking for Gyaran Kashi, the town’s renowned bone setter; his Hausa language since failing him.
He had less than two hours to find the man he knew too well to be resourceful enough to connect him to who he needed to contact.
He had to find his father and time was ticking.
But even Ganbo, a hired eye, did not notice as men and women with extra clothing took positions in various spots, whispering into a local radio.

*****
Mubi – Adamawa State: 30th August 2011 – Eid el Fitr Day

The blazing stores, the burning human flesh, the exploding sounds of gas cylinders and stored petrol and the suffocating smell of burning petrol tanker. The thick black smoke hovering over the community moved heavily and slowly, lazily going up into the clouds, the only place it knew it could find redemption.
The roads and streets around the old large community mosque, new Pentecostal church few meters away, the busy car park adjacent to the church, the old fruit market and petrol station opposite the mosque had a new layer. Littered with dead and burning flesh; human flesh mangled with animal flesh almost in artistic depravity. A headless man had the head of a goat nestled on the severed throat in measured precision as if it were aligned. A disemboweled woman had a tuber of yam for large intestines with mashed red tomatoes for color and an amputated large bird with two right-legged limbs and male organ sprawled across the burning animal in a comical fashion.
Sounds of helicopter could be heard faintly approaching the burning community from the North and the fearless group in black hoods stood over the destruction, chanting loudly as they fired into already dead bodies, waiting for the helicopter with mounted PT-91 Twardy Battle Tank and a RPG-32 anti-tank grenade launcher. It was a fight to the finish and nothing was going to stop them.
The approaching military air vessels met their Waterloo the moment they became visible. Launch after launch, the men and vessels were blown apart. Hot dark flames falling from the skies as roar of jubilation filled the air in flagrant triumph. It was after all the fight for supremacy and the shredded bodies that lay on the streets and hanging on shrubs was evident that the end for the Nigeria State had come. The terrorists jumped into their trucks afterwards and drove away on human flesh flying their flags high while their cameraman filmed on.

*****

It was a black Tuesday as Nigerians sat across the country in front of their Televisions and watched as their country fell under siege. The live feeds coming from Adamawa and Borno states was nothing like they had seen as they saw lifeless bodies of men, women, children and animals littered callously in different communities so much that the citizens lost count of communities that had been captured, frightened and irked at the ruthlessly of the group. The live feeds looked the same in Gombi, Hong, Maiha and Demsa communities in Adamawa state. They watched as the terrorists butchered and beheaded, as the men in hoods summarily executed persons by shooting them straight in the head; they watched as the group destroyed abandoned military stations and took over their weapons and combat tanks, they watched as these men gunned down men who slept on walls, men who vowed to keep Nigeria safe, men in uniforms.
In what was the biggest terrorist attack in history of the country, the Boko Haram had staged series of suicidal bombings in different states in North East while engaging in full combat with foot soldiers and blowing up helicopters in Adamawa, Borno and Yobe States as soon as they were sighted.
It was a show of barbaric dominance and it was clear what needed to be done.
The need to show force, a change in Government.

*****

Jafal swirled the cold drink in his glass, the ice cubes connecting with the glass to give a faint clinking sound. He held the remote control in his hand and raised it to increase the volume the moment the face of his puppet filled his large screen.
“We have taken over your country, your community, your government and your military. Yes, you said we could not, I say to you, you underestimated the power of Allah. Allah gives victory and He has given us victory because we fight, we fight a just cause to free our land from sin, the sin of the West. Today we tell you there is no hiding place for you. We shall fight and we shall win. We have taken over Gwoza, Biu, Chibok….we are winning. It is just the beginning. President Obama, you underestimated us. Come and stop us. We are coming for you. Yes, we shall come for your daughters, your wives and your sons. We are coming to you now. Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!! It was a hooded Yakubu who was known as Abu Bakr al-Shafik to the populace. The country had woken up to celebrate the end of the 30 days fasting but now it lay burning.
Jafal changed the channel and the flood of headlines and calls for resignation of the President took over international and local airways.
Nigeria terror: Boko Haram takes over government – CNN
Over 10,000 persons massacred in Nigeria, Boko Haram is the new government – Al Jazeera
War declared in Nigeria, Nigeria state falls to Boko Haram, casualty rising – BBC
Resignation call: President Jang to resign – NNTA
“I would say this was our biggest victory yet” Jafal said dropping the remote control and smiling wickedly to the man who sat beside him anxiously biting on a cigar.
“I would say” Bello answered, distracted. He knew something was wrong but for the first time, he had no idea what possibly could go wrong. He casually picked up his phone and sent a text. A reply came in almost immediately. Lazily, he nodded to himself and relaxed. He was Bello Badmus after all, nothing could go wrong.
But it was all coming to an end, even for Bello Badmus.

*****
M.O.T.I.V.E.S is written by;
Uneñ Ameji
Author of Memoirs of a Justified Gold Digger on Amazon.com
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M.O.T.I.V.E.S – Episode 3

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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

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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

*****

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Sisi by Tolu Daniel – A Short Story 18+

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SISI by Tolu Daniel

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‘Sisi, touch me, touch me in that sweet and sexy way, the way you touch those boyfriends of yours’ Chief Kunle said in that husky tone of his, as though he was whispering to some unholy genie that would appear as he rubbed the tip of his penis back and forth. He was already far gone, intoxicated by his drive for sex and not planning to get sober any time soon. He wondered for a brief moment how any woman could resist him especially since his instrument of digging was already out and throbbing for a ground to sink. He thought about the way Sisi smiled and laughed at his crude jokes, he had been certain that she wanted him and hence any resistance she gave would probably be likened to a chicken dance.
The way she’d wiggled her tiny waist, whenever she walked out of his office always made him crazy. He had been watching her for a longtime, sometimes through the security camera that was attached to his office. He had imagined a lot of things that he could do with her, how she would stay on top and ride him like a cowboy on a bull and ride him into oblivion, he didn’t give a shit about the consequences. Who thinks about consequences when the girl is as set and as sexy as Sisi.
The first time he had tried to pin her down and ensured that he got a piece of her. He had ensured that he grabbed her breasts, the two generously swollen mounds on her chest that made her look like a black Kim Kardashian; he had not imagined that she would not be all over him and begging him for more. But she had resisted, mustering all the energy she could but he had still blown his load on her before she could escape, the white mucus thingy falling haplessly on the sofa and landing on her dress. She had had to clean herself up before she left his office and he had continued doing the same thing, believing that someday, she would stop resisting and give in and probably give him some head too.
His colleagues from other departments had seen her too and the mere sight of her ass had sent them drooling but he had warned them off her and told them in no small words that she was his and they had stayed away. Some of them had advised him to ensure he smashed her as much as he could reminding him of the legend of Edo girls and their monstrous sexual appetite and he had sworn to get his piece from her. None of them knew that she was resisting of course. After all, he was taking care of her, buying her gifts, making promises of retaining her services immediately her service year was completed, isn’t that the dream of every Corp member? To get a job after their service year, she had never rejected anything from him not even the meager five thousand Naira he always threw at her after their numerous episodes hence he believed that her resistance would wear thin sooner than later and that delicious looking ass of hers would be his to excavate. He knew about the legend of Edo girls, how crazy their sexual appetite was and he was certain that Sisi’s was probably as crazy as the legend’s if not crazier. The last Edo girl that had completed her service year in his office had been a Yoruba girl of Edo descent and had done crazy things with him.
He had never been able to satisfy the girl sexually except maybe sometimes when he had his Viagra around or when he had taken some of the concoction that the Baba whom his driver had brought to his office when he hinted him of his situation as regards his inability to last longer than three seconds. The mixture had done wonders the last time he spent his vacation with his wife in the United Kingdom. Since he had taken up this political appointment, he had decided that it was a sensible thing to keep his wife and kids abroad, so that he could keep them safe from the prying spectacles of the press and also the unfortunate eyes of the detractors of his political party and rival groups that may have mischief on their minds.
The first week he had flown his family out the country, he had spent most of his nights in hotels and brothels; Oloshosor roadside prostitutes as they were called were his specialties. These girls would ensure that they milked him well before they left him; some of them even stole from him. And the result had affected his accounts way too much.
He stopped using this method and adopted a simpler and cheaper way of satiating himself sexually but he never enjoyed sleeping with any of the women that he had to settle for, married women and unattractive spinsters that worked with him at the office and moreover there was too much drama about it all; once he was sleeping with a particular woman who was so possessive of him as though he was married to her. He decided thereafter to keep his little man zipped based on a philosophy that cheating was way too expensive and dramatic and as such, he would rather get laid whenever his wife was in the country or whenever he visited.
All these resolutions were till an old friend of his, introduced him to his niece and informed him that she wanted to complete her service year in his office, reminding him of a business deal. With a wink of an eye, the deal had been agreed and the niece was be payment. Chief Kunle could not be certain if the girl had been briefed about her role in the deal but agreed immediately and requested that the girl, Jessica be posted directly to his office.
He didn’t need to say much to get Jessica’s attention as it seemed as though the girl was compensation for all the money that he had spent while whoring the city because not only was she ridiculously pretty, she was ready for whatever he offered.
He found out sooner enough that sleeping with the Corpers posted to his office was more cost effective and had never looked back ever since. Since her first day on the job, Kunle had been certain that he was going to have her. And have her he did, for one full year, taking her along with him on all his official assignments at home and abroad only careful enough to avoid taking her to the United Kingdom till a replacement came and that had been how the cycle had been for all those years with the other female Corp members.
‘Sisi, come on’ Chief Kunle said, walking close to her as nicely as his baulk could muster. ‘Don’t deny an old man of your sweetness’.
Sisi looked at him, her eyes filled with disgust but Chief Kunle could not see it, infact he kept walking towards her with a solemn grin playing around his face, his hands still holding on to the flaccid attachment to his body. It was clear, Sisi was confused, she wasn’t sure she knew what she was doing, either by refusing him or by allowing him, it was all registered on her face, perhaps this was what the Chief saw . Revenge was heavy on her mind, she wanted to do something that would hurt her ex-boyfriend but she wasn’t sure this was it.
It was almost certain that the one that would hurt most from this would certainly be her. It had been quite a rough week, the idiot had broken off her relationship of over five years only two nights ago, a relationship she had given so much of herself into, and the worst part was the fact that he had not given her a tangible reason but she was sure that it had something to do with that Skunk of a girl that he met the month before, the one that he kept telling her about.
She was in such a bad shape, normally it would have been easy to escape Chief Kunle, she had done it so many times, even though in recent times it had not been a clean escape, but it had been an escape nonetheless; she was in such confusion that her mind could not play out an escape route for her. There was nobody she could talk to; it was as though the other members of staff in the department were in on the conspiracy somehow, because there was always a strange smirk on their faces whenever she emerged from the office of Chief Kunle.
The coolness that the air conditioner in the office brought seemed to have vanished as Chief Kunle closed in on Sisi, trapping her with his round belly to an angle in his office that have served him so well whenever he strafed any of the other girls. There was nowhere to run to now, she couldn’t possibly back away any further, the wall was a willing ally for the chief. The chief was sweating profusely like a buffet pig and it seemed like he might die if he didn’t get what he wanted, his eyes were bloodshot and his face was void of an expression. Chief Kunle wasn’t exactly optimistic about what could happen or what will happen with Sisi, because he was not thinking with his head any longer, he had lost control of it; he was like a zombie trying to capture a person in order to eat their brains.
‘No sir, I can’t do this…..’ Sisi managed to say, as the bigger man drew her closer for an involuntary kiss but before she could finish talking, Chief Kunle’s larger lips had already crushed hers and they were locked in a perverted kiss that looked as though the Chief was going to eat her up if she didn’t disentangle her mouth from his. Sisi was not totally surprised at the audacity of the chief, he had done it before. She felt like she might pass out because his cologne could knockout a fully grown whale. All she could muster was a soft moan that escaped from her throat that made it look as if she was enjoying it instead of trying to breath just as the Chief molested one of her breasts.
The moan was all the encouragement that Chief Kunle needed as his mouth left hers and made its way to her chest where he fought her for the right to taste the sweetness of her breasts. His beefy fingers had violated her enough because she could feel his hands already in between her legs and she really was not gonna have him go to second base without her permission. This wasn’t the first time that he would be fighting her for the rights to touch her down there, Sisi slapped his hands away and from some strange reasons, the Chief snapped out of his trance momentarily and allowed his eyes to settle on Sisi’s half exposed cleavage.
Sisi seized the moment and made to escape the trap that she was in. Her head was clearer now; maybe it was because of the little triumph of winning the battle against the chief. She adjusted her shirt and made to clean her face while trying to ensure that she kept him within at least three feet from her. But as she was making for the door, Chief Kunle grabbed her ass from behind, it was so unexpected that Sisi tried pull away from him jerking her hands free of his hold with such force that they both fell down flat on their backs, the Chief on the marble tile and Sisi fell on the chief.
The fall was awkward for two reasons, the Chief’s shrieked like a girl who just saw a ghost and Sisi for a brief moment thought maybe her tight trouser had let her down and that the Chief’s hard penis had gotten a safe passage into her because he had been so stiff just some minutes ago when he had hugged her but then again, it didn’t seem right, because she only felt his stiffness for a couple of seconds after she fell.
As she made to stand up, she realized that the Chief was not moving and when he in fact opened his eyes, tears pooled in his eyes. Sisi saw why he had screamed and she stood up as fast as she could, he looked sorry and helpless. She had accidentally broken his penis, it was still rounded and had lost its outright stiffness, the white tip now had a shade of purple – an eyesore.

Sisi heaved a deep sigh, stood up and left the office without casting a glance backwards. Chief Kunle had it coming.

THE END
Tolu Daniel is a fiction writer, blogger and administrator of A Poet’s Diary. He blogs at http://toluojuola.wordpress.com and is @iamToluDaniel on twitter.

Ineffable by Tolu Daniel – A Short Story

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Hey Guys!

Yes…..too long. A while since any post made it here…Apologizes…

Today, we will be posting series of short stories by our Tolu Daniel and a new writer Arikor Collins….do enjoy.

INEFFABLE by Tolu Daniel

You wished you could say those words, that you’ve been told she wanted to hear but you couldn’t, logic says no, logic does not understand the language of the heart, so you are stuck with throwing mindless and thoughtless tantrums till you lose her.

Four years later, you meet her at the airport on your way back from a journey to the states, she smiles sweetly at you waving her hands at you. She told you that she has been seeing you on television and had read all your books over the years hoping you’d be impressed that she had finally taken a liking for books like you always wanted her to. You felt a tinge of pride; your success had been a major hit. You had expected that she would definitely have heard about it. And you were indeed impressed that she had chosen not to forget you even if she never contacted you.

Then, it suddenly dawned on you, the reason for her wave of hands, as the blinking ring on her engagement finger caught your sight. She’s getting married she announces; You are not moved, you didn’t smile nor congratulate her, Logic who had always been your best friend starts denying you like Peter at the Crucifixion of Christ.
You are still single, she is now engaged; you couldn’t confess your feelings for her back then because you were scared of immediate commitment. You were scared that you were not man enough for her; your bank accounts as at then couldn’t boast of a thousand naira. She had told you that she didn’t mind starving so far she was with you.

You didn’t believe her; you had seen what the lack of money did to your parents. How it was your mother that had been responsible for most of the things in your house because your father lost his job and broke his spine in an accident that condemned him to the wheelchair the rest of his life. You saw what that had done to him, how hurt his pride had been whenever he had to collect money from your mother to do anything. You had sworn to work as hard as you could possibly work to ensure that your father’s fate never befalls you.

You felt sorry that you couldn’t ask her out back then or call her your own. You felt that she deserved better than you could give; not that you had anything to give her anyway. Now the same commitment that you had eluded back then is all you are looking for but it is nowhere, four years down the lane; you are a successful writer and speaker of international repute. You had slaved yourself over the years to editors and publicists to make a hard living and when success came it had not come with all the perks that you had imagined it would come with, though it had been overwhelming but you couldn’t find anyone who could love you for who you are and you feared that you were still in love with someone who you never expressed your feelings to and whom you are now finding out that she’s engaged.

So you mouthed the words in a mumble that sounded like the gibberish that came readily available to you and didn’t allow them to come out clearly.‘I loved you back then and I still love you’ Bisi strained herself to hear you clearly but you did not say those words again. This is not a movie, you thought to yourself, this is life and this is the shit that happens when you don’t talk when you were supposed to, so sulk it up and move on.

“I could almost guess what you were thinking you know” She says watching your mouth drop as you fear that she may have figured out your gibberish. “You’re thinking of what happened between us those years ago and how it was possible for me to move on after you broke my heart.”

Words failed you; you stared after her in disbelief and wandered for a brief moment if you would ever have the chance to tell her how you really felt about her. “It’s not like that Bisi, and I know you know that too” You say, your guilt renewed like a newly fueled fire.
“It’s never like that with you, everything has got to be complicated and you never talk, you never truly open up except maybe in your books. I read all of your works and hoped that maybe somewhere inside it there was a hidden message for me, something to hold on to, but I found none!”
“That’s not true Bisi, all or at least most of my works were a message to you. I didn’t want to start something that I couldn’t finish with you. I thought you understood that.”
“Understood? Sola was right about you. You really are heartless. Did you ever sit down to consider how I felt?” The mention of the name Sola brought back cruel memories to you. You remember him clearly; he had been the one who gave her the attention that you were not willing to give; the rich boy who roamed campus with his father’s car, who had almost everything given to him on a silver platter. He had been your arch-rival from the get go and despite your best efforts to stave away the trouble which his rivalry might cause to your friendship with Bisi, he had continued to debase you at every opportunity he got.

She could see the effect of her words on you, so she backed off. “I had feelings for you back then and I think I still do. I just couldn’t do it as at that time. I couldn’t handle a relationship then and I didn’t know how else to break it to you than the way I did.”
“I don’t know what to say to you…I’m sorry” she said as a tear rolled down her ebony cheek. You blink back the tears yourself.
“I’m sorry too, so when’s the big day?” You managed to say, struggling to catch your breath, you felt a lot better after saying those words to her because it had been at the tip of your tongue since you discovered the rings on her finger.
“It’s next Saturday and I’m getting married to Sola.” You stared at her in utter disbelief, you felt really angry, not at her nor at Sola but at yourself. You managed a smile even though your heart was in sharp contrast with what your face was producing. You felt like a thousand knifes were stabbing your heart at the same time but you smiled still and urged her to send you the invite to the wedding.

END.
Tolu Daniel is a fiction writer, blogger and administrator of A Poet’s Diary. He blogs at http://toluojuola.wordpress.com and is @iamToluDaniel on twitter.

Beautiful Stranger: Episode 14. Season Finale

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EPISODE 14
JERRY
I turned off the engine as I pulled up under a big tree. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car to take a walk. The vacation had turned out to be longer than forever. We had lived more than a week. I know I am supposed to be excited about Toni seeing a month since the proposed one week, and I am, but I am also worried. I don’t know if getting my hopes up would be appropriate. I have spent the last one month watching Toni sleep and wake up. I have also spent it on my knees praying that she should see the next day and not just leave me. We have all kept vigils around her bed hoping that she didn’t give up anytime soon, and she really is giving it a fight. It looks like she’ll be staying. I can’t help but smile at the thought that she might actually be here with me.
“Hey, man!”
It took a tap from Emeka to bring me back to reality. I turned at him with a frown from the effect of the tap. “What is it?” I asked.
“I saw you pull up and I decided to join you, and now I find you smiling to yourself. Is everything okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “It couldn’t be any better.”
“Great.” He replied and walked by my side.
I stared at him. “Emeka, it’s a month today. Toni is still alive.”
Emeka smiled. “Man, I understand your joy.”
“I don’t think you do, this is beyond joy. This is like a miracle.” I said. “One month and counting. She is still here.”
He nodded as he stared at me. “I know.”
Emeka was silent. I sighed as I stared at him. “Am I wrong to get my hopes up?”
“No, I think it is fine. I think we are right to stay optimistic.” Emeka replied.
I smiled. “I am going to ask her to marry me.”
“Jerry?”
I nodded. “I think it’s the right thing to do. When two people love each other, they should be together.”
Emeka took a deep breath. “Jerry, I don’t think you do this right now. Do you have an idea what the proposal might do?”
“She would accept it. I know.” I replied.
Emeka took a deep breath. “Toni won’t want to marry you.”
“Why are you so sure?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I am not sure. But, I just know she won’t want to do that to you.”
“What are you trying to say?” I asked.
Emeka stared at him. “Jerry, you know better. Don’t do this to you…and to her.”
“Do what?!” I shouted.
“What hopes are you trying to give her? Toni is living every day so positively that we can’t see the traces, but they are there. Don’t weigh her down by presenting a ring now. She doesn’t need it.” He replied.
I swallowed painfully.
“I am sorry if I came off harsh.” He said. “You don’t need this now, enjoy the days.” He added.
“Well, you just ruined my day.” I replied and walked away.
***
NORA
I don’t know what I am doing in a very unfamiliar environment. I am at the back pew in a church and staring at the altar. Toni thinks I should talk to God and she wants me to do it for me. I don’t even know where to start or what to say to Him. All I know is I am really thankful for this last one month. I just thought I had a week more to spend with my sister, but I have enjoyed a lengthier period and I am thankful to God for it. Toni might not know this, but I am glad God has given her more to write about in her book.
I took a deep breath and approached the altar. I have nothing else to do than to give thanks to God for what I had, what I have and what I hope to still have. Toni has been more than a sister to me, she has been a gift. One I’d forever be thankful to have had.
“We have to go.” James called from the back.
I turned and stared at him. “Why?”
“Toni is alone.” He replied. “She shouldn’t be left alone for a minute.”
I nodded. “Give me one minute.” I replied.
James walked out.
“Thank you, Lord, for sending James my way.” I said.

***
TONI
What would I love to do before I die? I guess I have done a lot of that already. Most of all, I have only cared about one thing after my purpose on earth is fulfilled, and that is, making Heaven. What would life be if I didn’t get to meet God after all? Meeting God would be amazing, I would like to ask him what I am still doing in Obudu three weeks after the Doctors say I would be gone? Isn’t it just amazing? One week was the set time and I am still here. It is true that God is not a respecter of any man.
I loved being here. It was fun while it lasted.
Till we meet again,
Toni.
***
With that, I slipped into the bed and drew the blanket over me. A lot seemed to have changed in the last one month. I felt the necessary strength and courage to go through each day.
‘They say you know when your day comes’ I don’t know why, but every passing day in the last one month seemed like a date with Heaven, but yet, it didn’t come. Maybe today seemed more like the day.
I took a deep breath and rolled over to my right. I stared into my mirror. Surely, I have seen a lovelier Toni than who I see now, but then, I have never seen a more ready Toni than the one I see today. It has to be today.
The door opened and Nora walked in. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She replied and joined me on the bed. “How are you feeling?”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t feel at home anymore.”
Nora nodded. “I understand.” She said. “I went to Church today.” She added.
I smiled. “Thank God.”
“Toni, I love you so much and there is nothing that could ever change that.” She said.
I chuckled. “Of course, it’s not like you have a choice.”
Nora blinked. “Toni, when you see Jesus, tell Him I am grateful.”
“Of course.” I replied and pulled her close for a hug. “I’ll tell him just that.”
Nora smiled. “What about Jerry?”
“You’ll take care of him for me.” I replied. “I am sure he would find someone beautiful too.”
Nora broke down in tears. “Toni.” She muffled amidst tears. “Toni.”
The door opened and Jerry stood by the door.
She nodded as she pulled away. “I love you.” She said and kissed my forehead. She turned in Jerry’s direction. “Hello.”
“Hey.” Jerry replied with a faint smile.
Nora hugged Jerry and shut the door after him.
Jerry took a deep breath as he walked over to me. “Hey, Stranger.”
“Hello.” I replied with a faint smile.
He took his seat beside me. “How did it go?”
“I am done.”
He took a deep breath. “So, what’s next?”
“I have sent it to the editor and from there, they’ll take care of the rest.” I replied.
He drew me close and hugged me. “How are you?” Jerry asked.
I stared at him. “Ready.”
“Are…Are you saying-”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Jerry blinked as a tear drop rolled down his eye. “Don’t do this.”
I raised a finger and wiped the tear from his eye. “I love you, Jerry.”
“And I love you, Toni.” He replied and hugged me tight…till I knew I was truly done.

***6 MONTHS LATER***
JERRY
“Toni was a really special woman and we are here to celebrate her. Her lovely and only Novel titled “I WAS HERE” is officially launched today.” Nora announced over the microphone. “As earlier announced, Doctor Jerry and I would be signing the autographs on behalf of the Late Toni in the next forty-five minutes down the hall. Thank you all for coming.” Nora said and descended the podium.
The hall roared with applause.
I smiled from a corner of the room as I watched Nora leave the podium.
James joined me from the right with a drink. “Isn’t she lovely?” he asked.
“She is. Nora is my sister, you can’t mess with her.” I replied.
Emeka joined us. “Are you set for the interview? The press is here.”
“Almost ready.” I said
He nodded and hurried back to meet the press. James tapped me. “I’ll go and help him out. Later, man.”
Yes, I assumed the role of being Nora’s brother and friend, just as Toni wanted it. James was really going to make her happy and I knew it. They were in love.
Toni was everything for me and the last six months have been painful for me. It’s as though I have had a portion of my life taken from me, but every little moment we had together was enough for me to hang on to. The last months have all been about thinking, shedding a tear for the pain but I hang on to the hope that someday I’ll wake up and it won’t have to hurt so much. That, I know.
Toni came into my life and gave meaning to everything that had no meaning. It was all in the little things she did. My gift from God was Toni and I could not question that.
I know I’d find love in another woman someday, Maybe not today or tomorrow or the next, but I know I will.
I turned to the wall and stared at the giant portrait of Toni that stood there and smiled.
I love her.
***

“To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die” – Thomas Campbell

THE END.

Beautiful Stranger is written by @tomi_adesina; Author of Dear Future Husband available for Free on African Stories. Follow @tomi_adesina on twitter for more thrilling stories. Her new book “All Fun and Games” also available for FREE on African Stories

Beautiful Stranger. Episode 10

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Good wet morning Guys! It’s August, so…lets enjoy the downpour yes? Remember to get free eBooks on African Stories Here and if you are a writer or authored a book, Kindly mail us your articles, books and series to post here. It is free service but works must be edited….although we will go through it, it seems only fair that you make our job easier….you are afterall a writer, are you not? hehehe….#ThursayJokes…send it to mailafricanstories@gmail.com and we will take it from there.

Now, your episode for today
Beautiful Stranger. Episode Ten

Read All Previous Episodes of Beautiful Stranger Here

“Come on, man. Think like a Surgeon. Let’s cut!” Jerry said as he dropped an envelope on the table. He bent over and flipped a Surgical Textbook open.
Emeka took a deep breath. He had never seen Jerry so enthusiastic about something and maybe that was a good sign but at the same time, someone had to be reasonable here. Jerry had just stepped out of Toni’s room with the ‘get me on my feet’ rule and he didn’t seem to be thinking straight here. All he wanted was to get her on her feet in its literary context, but that was not going to give a lasting solution. He sighed as he watched Jerry look through a book. “Bro, I think we should talk about this” Emeka said.
Jerry was engrossed in the textbook he was looking through. “Not now.”
“Jerry, I know you feel you can go all Ben Carson on her right now, but we have to be logical here. She has had epileptic seizures from her history and I don’t think we should take that chance again.” Emeka started.
Jerry closed the book. “You are not getting the point. We can cut through and remove the mass of the tumour, do you know what that will do for her?”
“That will buy her more time and in the end, you will still lose her.” Emeka replied. “I think she should start the treatment as soon as possible. Besides, it is the patient and her sister’s wish that she does Chemo and since we know it is the brain we are focusing on, we can switch to Radiotherapy for effectiveness. Don’t start putting your emotions into this thing.”
“You and I know how Radiotherapy works…I can’t watch her go through it. It is so much pain.” Jerry retorted.
“You don’t have to watch. You just have to be there for her, man. I think we shouldn’t waste any more time with these decisions. It is obvious the tumour is escalating to other parts of the system and if we keep dilly dallying about it, we would get nothing done.” Emeka replied.
Jerry shook his head. “The Director asked me what I think we should do and I think surgery is fine, I would go over to him and tell him about my decision and I would try to make Toni and Nora see reason. Besides, AEDs can be given for the seizures.”
“Jerry, you and I know that cytoreduction of the tumour is the best we would get out of this. You have seen the neoplasm, it is better to let her do radiotherapy. Besides, I think we are going to have problems gaining access to the tumour because of the size and location. It is at the skull base, man. Think. There are many possible outcomes of the surgery, we could tamper with her brain tissues, she could suffer memory loss or something worse, are you willing to take that chance?” Emeka asked.
Jerry took a deep breath and leaned against the table. Emeka was right, but he still believed he could remove as many tumour cells as possible, but he had a very slim chance because of the size and location of the tumour. He fumed as he sank into a chair. His eyes were soon wet. “I am out of ideas, bro.”
“Look, Jerry, radiation therapy will kill the tumours but won’t harm her brain tissues. Let’s take a chance on this.” Emeka replied as he took a seat beside him. “Toni is trusting you to get her back on her feet, but not for a month or two. She wants it to be forever.”
Jerry nodded. “This isn’t going to be easy for her.”
“Well, we both know it is not going to be, but she is a fighter. Let’s believe.” Emeka replied.
The door opened and the Director walked in. “What would it be?” he asked as he picked up a copy of the scan that was lying on the table. “Hmm…this is big.” He said and replaced the scan on the table. “Jerry, do you think we can cut?”
Jerry blinked. “Err…Sir, I…I was thinking-”
“-We are thinking radiotherapy would work.” Emeka said, staring at Jerry. “We can’t cut this.” He said through clenched teeth.
The Director nodded as he stared at Jerry. “I hope you know that you would be off most of her treatment.”
“No way!” Jerry objected.
Emeka took Jerry’s hand. “Man.”
Jerry blinked. “Sir, I can’t afford to be kicked off her case. You know what she means to me.”
“And it is exactly for that reason that you have to sit out of this one. I would get you tonnes of cases-”
“-I don’t want anything. I just want her.” Jerry replied, cutting in.
Emeka cleared his throat. “Sir, I think Jerry can be on the team for the Radiotherapy since we won’t be doing surgery.”
“No. I won’t bend the rule even a bit. There is a surgery in about an hour. He is the lead surgeon.”
Jerry fumed. “Sir! Don’t do this.”
“I can’t have you mixing emotions with this.” The Director replied.
Jerry clasped his hands together. “Sir, I have put my emotions aside. I am just a surgeon and her Doctor.”
“It is not so easy, Son. Sit out of this one, we’ve got it.” The Director replied and stared at Emeka. “Come with me, we need to go and prep the patient.” He said and walked out.
Jerry pulled Emeka back. “He can’t do this to me. Please beg him. Toni wants me to do this.”
Emeka blinked. “Jerry, you know how it is. You can’t. You need a right frame of mind.”
“Don’t give me that crap! You can convince him. It is not surgery.” Jerry replied angrily.
“This is why he won’t let you in on it. Cool off, man.” Emeka said and walked out.
Jerry fumed as he kicked the door.
***
Toni brushed Nora’s hair. “So, I want to draw up my will.”
Nora flipped her head over her shoulder. “What is that?”
“A will. Legal statement showing who I give my share of our family’s fortune to.” Toni replied with a smug smile.
Nora frowned. “I know what a will is, I just don’t know what you need it for right now.”
“Oh come on, Nora. You and I know that it is only necessary I do this now, besides, amendments can be carried out in the nearest future should events change.” Toni replied.
Nora took a seat opposite her. “Are we being less optimistic now? Jerry is doing everything he can and you are here throwing it all away with wanting to draw up a will.”
Toni sighed. “Nora, why are you talking like this? I want to live, but in case I don’t, I want to leaveve something behind for my foundation and stuff.”
“Are you saying I am going to collapse your foundation in the event of your death? Give me some credit, Toni.” Nora said, standing up.
Toni sighed. “I didn’t mean it that way, sis.”
“I don’t care how you meant it, but it hurts.” Nora replied.
Toni nodded. “I am sorry.”
“Yeah. I have got to take a walk.” Nora replied.
Toni sighed. “Are you for real? I said I am sorry.”
“I know you are. I just didn’t expect you to have that sort of opinion of me.” Nora replied.
Toni smiled. “Are you trying to pick up a fight with me? I promise I will be dead before you are back from your walk and you are going to carry the feeling that you fought with your sister before her death to your grave.” She concluded with a wide grin.
Nora rolled her eyes. “Don’t start guilt tripping me.”
“Oh yeah…it worked. I am sorry.” Toni said with a smile.
Nora sighed and took her seat. “Don’t start scaring me, Toni. You have to be in the right frame of mind for any treatment to be effective on you.”
“Trust me, I am motivated to live.” Toni replied.
Nora smiled. “James would be here to see you in the evening. He left early this morning.”
Toni nodded. “Hmm…that’s cool. I need to have a talk with him anyway.”
“What talk could that be?” Nora asked.
Toni shrugged. “It’s personal.”
Nora folded her arms. “Personal?”
Toni nodded. “It is important I talk to him, that’s all. Don’t be scared.”
The door opened and the Director walked in with Emeka. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Good morning, Director.” Nora greeted.
Toni stared at the door expecting it to open but it didn’t. She stared at Emeka looking for an answer.
Emeka cleared his throat. “Jerry is not coming.”
The Director stared at her. “As you understand, Doctor Jerry can’t be let in on this due to his emotional attachment to the patient.”
Nora nodded and took Toni’s hand. “Okay, so, what’s going to happen now?”
“We are going to start the radiotherapy by tomorrow. We can’t have any more surgeries as the tumour is in a delicate position of the brain. So, are you ready?” The Director asked.
Nora stared at Toni. “You ready?”
Toni nodded. “Yes. I have always been.”
Emeka smiled. “Okay. So, we would move you into a new room tonight and we can start off from there.”
“Can I see Jerry?” Toni asked.
Emeka nodded. “I’ll tell him to come.”
“No. I want to go to him.” Toni said.
The Director shrugged. “We’ll get a chair for you.” He said and walked out.
“I’ll go with him.” Nora said and walked out.
Emeka took a deep breath as he sat beside her. “I have heard a lot about you and I…I am honoured to finally meet you.”
Toni smiled. “Trust me, I am more beautiful than this. I am just allergic to Hospitals.” She said with a smile.
“Of course, you are.” Emeka said with a soft chuckle.
Toni stared at him. “Jerry is a good guy.”
Emeka nodded. “I know. He is one of the best men around. I am glad he found you.”
“Me too…”
Emeka took her hand. “Would you please not leave him?” he asked as a teardrop rolled down his eyes.
Toni gasped. “Oh…I think you are also emotional. You can’t be on this case too.” She said as she laughed.
Emeka laughed as he wiped his eyes. “You have a good laugh.”
“I know. I can’t help being a diva.” She replied.
He nodded. “You stay alive, okay?”
“I am alive.” She replied.
Nora returned with a wheelchair. “Let’s go, baby.”
Toni smiled as she got on the wheelchair.
***
Jerry sipped his cup of coffee as he stared at his wristwatch. He had a surgery in about thirty minutes. “Make this count, Jerry.”
The door opened and Toni wheeled in.
“Toni?” he gaped as he went over to her. “How did you…?”
Toni smiled. “Never mind…not like you don’t know how I got here.”
“Emeka.” He replied.
She nodded. “So…you won’t be my Doctor?”
He nodded. “Yes. I…I am sorry. I wanted to be there, but the Director won’t let me.”
“Neither would I.” she replied.
He knelt before her. “The session starts tomorrow. I will be by your side every step of the way. I promise to hold your hand throughout.”
Toni rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all mushy okay. Besides, it means you would hold one hand while Nora holds the other. How am I going to cope with two of you professing love?” she asked with a smile.
“I love you.” Jerry said.
She shrugged. “The question is, who doesn’t love me?”
“Are you going to class me with the majority?” Jerry asked with a smile.
She shook her head. “No. You make up the vast minority.”
“Vast? Minority?” Jerry asked.
She grinned. “You are everything…and much more than I wanted.”
“Oh my…I am honoured.” Jerry said as he kissed her hand.
She nodded. “You should be.”
“I have a patient who is due for surgery now.” He said, staring at his wristwatch.
She smiled. “Oh really?”
He nodded.
“Come here.” She said as she kissed his forehead. “Go save a life.”
Jerry smiled. “You got it.” He said and walked out with a smile.
Tears rolled down Toni’s eyes as the door closed after him. “God please…allow me love this man.”
***
JERRY
Who knew surgery could be fun? Tearing…sewing…tearing…sewing…fixing…smiling. I didn’t understand that it could bring me so much joy…until today. Being a surgeon is everything I have always wanted and I forgot what it was to have that dream until today. They say love can do a lot for you…much more than a lot for you. It gives life. It gives light. It gives hope. It gives much more than you have ever expected.
As I walked into the theatre with optimism, my team lit up. I had never seen them smile. It was as though I was ready to lead an army into battle and they were willing to fight with me…for the first time. Toni. It all came from her. Maybe Magic…maybe a fairy tale, but Toni is pure and true. I couldn’t ask for anything more, the gift of Toni to my life was something I couldn’t question.
And yes, my patient lived.
***
“Hey…”
Toni rolled over to see Jerry. “Hi. How was it?” she asked.
He smiled as he took his seat beside her on the bed. “Patient is fine. I am fine.”
“That’s good to know.” She replied. “I am nervous about radiotherapy. At first, I thought it was going to be chemo…but now it has a different name.” she said with a soft chuckle.
Jerry nodded. “Yeah. Radiotherapy is more effective and it is a better option.”
“So I heard.” Toni replied. “I pray I survive this.”
“You will survive it. I know that you are strong and you can go through this. I am here for you…every step of the way.”
Toni stared at him. “Would you?”
He nodded. “I am not going anywhere…you just have to promise me that you will stay.”
“That is not in my power, is it?” she asked.
He looked away.
“Do you love God, Jerry?”
Jerry shrugged. “He created us, right?”
“That’s not the question. Do you love God?” she asked.
He turned in her direction. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” she asked.
He nodded. “He doesn’t have much love for me either.”
“Why would you say so?” Toni asked as she sat up.
He stared at her. “Frankly, I have never had the best things of life except for good grades.”
“Good grades are something.” She said, cutting in.
“They didn’t save my first patient.” He replied.
She smiled. “You lose some, you win some.”
“Not your first. It is unforgivable.” He replied.
“By who?” she asked.
He stared at her. “I don’t understand.”
“By whose standard is losing your first patient unforgivable?” she asked.
He was silent.
“I know the pain hurts so much, but, we tend to take ourselves too serious and important that we forget the essence of being human.” She started. “Would saving your first patient have mattered if you went on a failure streak afterwards?”
He stared at her. “You don’t understand.”
“Make me.” She said with a smile. “Look, Jerry, we are allowed to lose, but the only thing you are not allowed to do is give up. You saved a life today because God was with you.”
“Why didn’t he save my first patient? Why did he let you have Cancer? Isn’t he God?” Jerry asked. “You talk so much about him, and it is obvious you love him…why did he let that happen to you? Why?”
Toni sniffled. “I am writing a novel. I don’t know if I would have all the time in the world to tell you who Toni was before I got Cancer…but I want you to know that there isn’t so much of a difference. I am still happy. I am still alive. I just have Cancer…and oh, I quit drinking.”
“You used to drink?” he asked.
Toni smiled. “Heavy boozer!”
He smiled faintly. “Toni, I want to understand God the way you have come to understand him, but he has to keep you alive for me to like him.” He said.
“Giving God conditions, are we?” she asked with a smile.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Let him keep you alive, then, we have a deal.”
“Ever heard of Job in the Bible?” she asked.
He nodded. “Sort of.”
“Try to read the Book of Job in the Bible. I am in no way comparing this situation to his, but that is a man that never stopped loving God. I am living proof that God cares about you and I. Talk to him. He listens, Jerry.”
Jerry blinked. “I don’t know about that…what am I going say to him?”
“First, you ask him to forgive you of your sins and give him your life. Let him be in charge of it all.” She said.
He smiled. “I think you should rest, Toni.” He said as he rose to his feet. “I have to go home to get a change of clothes and then I would be back for the night. Nora is outside. I would tell her to come in.”
Toni smiled. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
He blew her a kiss and walked out.
***
“So, you ran away because she was telling you about God?” Mrs Aiyenugba asked as they ate.
Jerry shrugged. “Not exactly. But, I don’t understand why she is so passionate about him when clearly he isn’t about her.”
Mrs Aiyenugba dropped her spoon. “Jerry???”
“Yes! You don’t let Cancer come near someone you love…I know he is God and he can do everything. Why can’t he take it away?” he shouted.
She sat back as she watched Jerry rant.
“All I want is for her to be fine…he should know that.” He shouted as tears rolled down his face. “He doesn’t have to take her away from me. I thank him for bringing her my way, but I want to have her.” He shouted as he broke down in tears.
Mrs Aiyenugba nodded and walked over to him. “When I lost my husband, I felt God was unfair too…he knew I loved him, but God loves him more and I had to understand that.”
“Just like that? No disrespect, but you have had the best days with your husband, but God isn’t even giving me a chance with her…” He protested.
She smiled. “The best days are yet to come. As long as you live, you make the most of each day and every moment and who told you that Toni has not had the best of her days with you already?”
“Don’t try to patronize me.” He replied.
She nodded. “Not my plan to do that, but I feel you should give yourself some credit already. Every man has his purpose and duty to fulfil, and when we are done, we are done.”
“Toni can’t be done.” He replied.
She stared at him. “Jerry, talk to God. He listens.” She said and dug her spoon into the food.
***
“So James, what are your plans for Nora?” Toni asked.
James stared at her. “I like her a lot. I know we can make it work.”
“Really?” she asked.
He nodded with a smile. “Am I on the hot seat here?”
She nodded. “Yes. I love my sister and I want to be sure that I am leaving her in the right hands.”
“You are not suggesting that you are going to die, are you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “We would all die someday…or face rapture.”
“Look Toni, I know it seems I hit on you the first day we met, but-”
She raised a finger. “I don’t care about that. I want to know your intents.”
“I want to be there for Nora. I want to love her, protect her, and take care of her. I know I can do it and I want you to trust me to be able to.” He said.
“James, I have nothing against you…Nora would do this to Jerry if she were in my shoes. I wish you guys the best.” She said.
“Are you saying goodbye already?” he asked.
She sighed. “I don’t know…but for as long as I am here, I am here.”
***
“God, I know I am not a good guy. I have not been to church in a long time. I have been drinking too much and maybe a little more than too much. But, I have found a good girl and I can’t let you take her away from me. The Director already said I won’t be treating her, but I don’t believe we even treat anyone, I think you do. Please, God, can you treat Toni for me? God, I…I won’t be able to go on without her…If you knew that you won’t keep her alive, why did you bring her my way? Were you trying to tease me? God, please…I can’t do this on my own…Teach me your ways, help me to understand you and everything that happens around me. Let me love you and help me to be a better man.” Jerry said as he knelt down in his room.
“God, forgive me for all the wrong things I have said to you, but I am hurting so much and I want you to fix me. I want you to take care of Toni. I can’t do this on my own…God, please.” He cried as he slid into the floor.

****
Beautiful Stranger is written by @tomi_adesina; Author of Dear Future Husband available for Free on African Stories. Follow @tomi_adesina on twitter for more thrilling stories. Her new book “All Fun and Games” also available for FREE on African Stories