Thursday, 18 October 2018

ShortStory II Such A Mess

 
  By Fred Doc Nwaozor    

         “Hello handsome!” Lady Bolanle greeted.
         The salutation was dished out as she walked closer to the supposed recipient having caught sight of him in the distance in one of the most famous supermarkets in Yaba, Lagos State, Nigeria.
        Bolanle, a single mother at 45 whose only child begotten out of wedlock was ten years old, was no doubt a prosperous importer who specialized in all kinds of gold jewellery. Owing to her ego, she had vowed never to settle down with any man or to be under any mortal in the name of matrimony; to her, marriage was a forsaken union. Towards quenching her libido, she went for any young man whom she chose or whomsoever she found suitable for her classy person.
        “Hi!” the supposed recipient, Akeem responded, still concentrating on the wares showcased in the shelves.
         Going by the tone of her abrupt greeting, he needed not a seer to interpret what she was up to.
         Akeem a bachelor at 30 though deeply engaged, was a graduate of Human Physiology from the Lagos State University (LASU), Iyana-Oba, Lagos State who was yet to secure a promising job.
        “Sorry for bashing into you.” Bolanle tendered.
        “Noted,” Akeem said, looked at her. “What can I do for you?” He added unfriendly though seemed charmed by her elegant look.
         Balanle who had her handbag in her left hand was indeed both in nature and appearance a very attractive lady that had all it takes to win the attention of any man regardless of what he was made up of. She was fair, huge and about 1.75-metre tall. She put on a multi-coloured dress, grey balanced-heeled sandals, low-cut hairs and sunshade spectacles coupled with designer perfume and various gold jewellery ranging from earrings to necklace, wristwatch and what have you; everything on her was golden in appearance as it could be testified by even a visually impaired being.
        On his part, Akeem, clad in black jean trousers, light-green shirt, black trainers spotted with red colour and a red cum black baseball cap, was about 1.70-metre tall, chocolate and plump. Although financially less-privileged, he was actually looking resplendent and buoyant in his dress.
        Bolanle, who leaned on one of the shelves, stylishly removed her specs. “Don’t you think you are being harsh?” she queried cheerfully. “Common.., be a gentleman.” He urged submissively, smiling.
        This time, they were facing each other and closer too. Both of them were carrying their trolleys in their right hands.
       “Sorry if that was harsh.”
       “It’s okay,” she said. “Well, I am Bolanle.., but you can call me Bola.”
      “Alright,” he replied. “I am Akeem.”
      “Let me not waste your time,” she hinted, dipped her right hand into her handbag. “This is my card.” She added handing over her complimentary card to him.
      “What for?” He queried, ignoring the offer.
      “Please take it,” she enjoined. “Call me anytime, we need to talk.”
        He reluctantly collected the document and glanced at it stylishly.
        She smiled over the compliance.
       “I still don’t understand,” said Akeem. “What are we to talk about?”
      “Till you call, Mr…” She said, seemed to had forgotten his name.
      “Akeem.” He reminded.
       She nodded. “Mr Akeem, please try and call me, okay?” she reiterated, looked into his eyes passionately. “You would be glad you did.”
       “I will try.” He replied, looked away and continued with his shopping.
       “Cute man indeed.” She thought pleasantly, looked at him for the last time and left the arena for where she was, felt fulfilled.
        On Friday, 22nd March 2002 being exactly three days cum three nights after the incident, having employed reasonable delay and tactics, Akeem made up his mind to put a call across to Bolanle with the opinion that the lady might be of help to his future since he was still job-hunting; a call that instantly transformed his status from a weary to a magnificent one just like a magic.
        During the phone call, they scheduled for a meeting at her office. Consequently, she succeeded in luring him into her net. Akeem concurred with her proposal to go on a date with him having disclosed to her that he had a fiancée. Keeping a ‘sugar mummy’ in his life was one of the ‘evil’ experiences he never dreamt of, little did he know that he would someday fell prey to such a mess.
        Afterwards, the moment the romantic affair commenced, Akeem was provided with everything a man of his age needed as he was promised. He could boast of a car, expensive wears and a befitting house in Benin, Edo State where he chose to relocate to.
         Prior to this time, he had lied to his pretty fiancée Bukola who was also resident in Lagos State that he secured a job in Benin with an oil servicing firm. The lie became consequential because he needed to distance himself from her in order to avoid any iota of suspicion that might arise in the future.
         Bolanle was very comfortable with the arrangement. She was frequenting Benin whenever she wanted to meet him, or she would send for him directly to a hotel suite in any locality in Lagos – apparently the choice was hers.
         The ugly scenario proceeded for over six months till one fateful day when Akeem thought it wise to lead Bukola down the aisle. Hence, he disclosed the intention to Bolanle who rejected it emphatically and threatened to make his precious life miserable if he dare went ahead with the plan. The unpredicted altercation dawned the awful truth on his person.
         He was so myopic to be preoccupied with the notion that whenever he disclosed to her the intention of settling down, she would hastily hug, cuddle him and therein lick his toes since he told her from the onset that he was seriously engaged.
         Though at the beginning, she agreed to allow him get married with his fiancée whenever he chose to, but just like the saying goes ‘it’s easier said than done’. No sane woman would be glad to watch her man walk out of her life let alone when the woman in question had spent a fortune on him.
        The depressed and flabbergasted Akeem who felt suppressed, later wore a bold skin, hence decided to give her warnings a deaf ear. Thus, he went ahead with his plan to settle down with Bukola having estranged from Bolanle. In view of this, he sold his duplex in Benin and relocated to Asaba, Delta State having told his wife-to-be that he got a transfer.
        Bolanle seemed to had been spying on Akeem right from when their estrangement set in contrary to Akeem’s presumption that there was no way she could trace him; needless to state that she was smarter than him.
         Two weeks on, Saturday 14th December 2002 specifically, Akeem who hailed from Ogun State headed for Oyo State to pay Bukola’s bride price. On his way to the epoch-making ceremony in the company of his friends and relatives including his parents, the beautifully groomed bridegroom who wore a traditional tartan kilt was brutally murdered in cold blood along Lagos-Ibadan expressway. The assassins comprising three huge men whom had stopped the deceased’s motorcade for a brief scrutiny disguised themselves as policemen.          
         It was a very hard blow to his parents alongside the bride who got the news in a jiffy.

Nwaozor, a playwright, novelist & poet, could
be reached via frednwaozor@gmail.com
Twitter: @mediambassador
                

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