Enjoy or better yet ponder while you read!!!!!!!
En route Port Harcourt May 2005, I boarded a waiting
Agofure bus, responding to an invite for a revised career choice for service to
my motherland under the DSSC with the boys in blue. A chance encounter placed me right beside her
– already loudly self proclaimed by nearly forgetting her bulging valise once before
in Asaba where she revealed she was returning from and yet again in Warri. My thoughts were directed towards her as I
beseeched God for an adventure and what an adventure it has been. In number it
spanned the four seasons of a half decade; an ill destined adventure but an
adventure I truly sought and was given. Janus announced his priestess by her
talismanic BIRD handset which she
clutched like an amulet, constantly engaged with it as a priestess would offer
incantations. Such an avid roadster she
was that even in the darkening hours, she freely dispensed locations to many
like us who eagerly sought to announce our arrivals to those we left behind and
those we were going to meet.
Breaking a self-creed of never engaging commuters on a
commercial vehicle, I plunged head-first into the miry waters that have
consumed many but for His Grace and Mercies which have long kept me. From lips that have been cursed with death,
the lies were spun of a visit to a brother in Port Harcourt (born of the same
source but yet her goat to command) concealing as usual a tryst with her
sacrificial victim of the moment – Ernest
the cyber café owner. From the
clutches of his embrace, she plied me with countless internet sms so much so
that my host remarked with levity, your choice has been made. Like a benign tumor, a festering sore that
begins with an itch, a tale of woe and regrets was beginning. Amused not by her, a companion so well versed
with the shadows, that even her profile was but a silhouette as we parted ways
that day; I was pursuing a request made and obtained, the re-enactment of many
biblical characters was to be my purpose. To understand a love so profound,
that it has been captured thus “while we were yet sinners, He loved us even to
the point of dying at the hands of those He chose to love and save. A creation of His hand for His good pleasure
– but yet a life of sin made by choice.”
An alumni of the Ivory Towers guarded by the two lions
she professed to be but as the days passed, she erroneously revealed a course
of study so plagued with failures that like the basket being used to draw water
from the well, it was futile making it out.
Another sacrificial victim – Mr
Oluah, she ‘blamed’ (as one of those lecturer types), for wanting to test
her waters as a prerequisite to granting her the needed pass. As a knight to the rescue, I dropped in
unannounced at her ‘institute’ to reason with Mr. Oluah but alas ensconced in the
embraces of yet another of her victims – Dr
Lewis the eckist, I met her. Like
the renowned but un-acclaimed Oscar winner, she spun a tale of a
student-lecturer relationship as he so eagerly waited on her and chauffeured
her for the entire day to eateries and visits whilst I was cramped up behind in
his Toyota coupe. Like a good host, he
offered their chambers of indiscretion as a place for the night and like the
weary traveler, I sought for sleep as my mind grappled with comprehending a
tale so filled with discrepancies that it was though a fishing net could be
used to cover one’s nudity. A kiss and
more they shared as she sought to explain my presence to her client of the hour
even as my weary eyes watched them whilst they believed I slumbered.
At the park, she pleaded with me and confessed she would
end it with him even as he waited to drive her away, a lecturer turned lecturee.
A bemusement to behold – the lecturer waiting on his student, but a sight so pitiable that the eyes would
but water in grief. And yet others
seasoned with the ways of the god would roll in bellows of mirth. On her return
she swore it was over but alas he only was concealed beneath the identity of
another client on her amulet even as she strung him along. Dr
Peter (doc P) was her client in Okada university but to me she explained
that she was working on a fishery under the good graces of a major benefactor, DJ. A heavyweight he was indeed, more
of a horse jockey than a disc jockey. A relationship that she was emboldened
enough to take to her home just like that of Wuri, one of many that had pre-empted her banishment to the rural
academic town where she was nothing but sorrow and woe to the relatives who
were unfortunate to be saddled with the failed responsibility of a mother. Let
the tare grow with the wheat, twas declared and so it was –a goat amongst
sheep, a ram amongst deer.
A highly priced escort she was, as she was on call for DJ whenever he had functions to attend
and there she was like the locally enjoyed treat of ‘point and kill’ for the
pleasures of the members of the House of Reps committee on oil and gas whilst
he sought to obtain the favors of the lewd male legislooters. Her amulet was constantly on ring, its ring
tone would still be heard in my sleep as she answered many asummons of her
clients – the legislooters seeking to plunder her waters and slurp at her
breasts, a gift offered that must be received.
Heady with her conquests, she regaled me with her exploits as one would
seek to preen like the peacock. Her
maternal Aunt Ego’s husband, a
client for virtual sex – she revealed correspondences that would make the
readers of Fifty Shades of Grey blush
at the explicit contents. Not incest she
professed, he wasn’t related to her however his regular stipends of US$100
served as his payments for services received. Need I mention the regular gifts
of yankee prophylactics he gave her
as mementos?
to be continued............................ and remember it can only get better.
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