Hideous Truth

HIDEOUS TRUTH

    “Ete my son,” the 75-year-old Elder Obong called right in his sitting room. “We invited you home to hear from the horse’s mouth.”

    His 66-year-old wife, Mrs Obong who was seated very close to him nodded.

    Ete, a 45-year-old successful young man based in Uyo, Akwa-Ibom State, Nigeria who worked with one of the oil servicing firms in the said state in which he also hailed from, was the first child of the above named couple. He obviously had anything money could afford. That he was still a bachelor at 45 in spite of the fact that all his younger ones had gotten married, was to say the least a thought-provoking and striking phenomenon to all his loved ones particularly his beloved parents, Elder & Mrs D.A. Obong.

    “We want to know why you are still single.” Elder Obong who was sharing with his wife one of the three-in-one upholstery chairs in the room said succinctly.

    His amiable wife nodded as usual.

    Ete who was seated directly opposite his parents in a single upholstery chair remained calm and silent. Prior to this moment, he needed not a seer to inform him the purpose of that very meeting which marked the umpteenth time a meeting would be hosted by his father for such reason.

    “You are the dream of every lady.” The old man attested frankly.

     Mrs Obong assented via a nod.

    “If anything is the matter, please kindly tell us.” He added.

    “Besides,” his mother chipped in. “Since we gave birth to you, we haven’t seen you with any woman.”

    Elder Obong concurred through a nod.

    “Not even for once.” She landed.

    “Please my son, tell us the truth,” the Chief Host continued. “What’s exactly the problem?”

    Ete noisily exhaled fathomless air, shook his crossed legs continuously and placed his left arm on his left chin. “Papa and Mama,” he finally broke his silence. “You worry yourselves over nothing.” He said, paused. “There’s nothing absolutely wrong with me.”

    “Then, why the unnecessary wait?” his father ranted, concurrently tapped his right leg on the tiled floor furiously.

    His mother slightly clapped her hands continuously indicating how amusing her son’s statement sounded.

    “I’m waiting for the appropriate time.”

    “Appropriate time…?” the old man quarrelled. “Did I hear you say appropriate time?”

    “My son,” she chipped in. “Why are you doing this to us.”

    Ete was unresponsive.

    “What have we done to deserve this?” She added.

    “How many of your mates are still single?” Elder Obong proceeded emphatically. “Answer me, how many of them?”

    “Or even at your working place,” Mrs Obong came in again. “How many of your male colleagues are single?” She reiterated.

    She was of the view that even a 20-year-old man who was privileged to secure the kind of job Ete had wouldn’t wait for a second before getting married let alone Ete, 45 despite the fact that he got the said job over six years back.

     The bombardment from the old couple continued to an extent that the interviewee couldn’t bear the tension any longer. Hence, he pleaded to take a leave; or would I say, he walked out on them. He left for Uyo that very moment in one of his private cars he came with.

     Henceforth, Mr Ete Obong thought it wise to keep a reasonable distance from his parents in order not to encounter further query. Notwithstanding, the distance never served as a deterrent to the old  but agile couple who were seriously willing and prepared to sacrifice anything towards ensuring that their first son who had turned a deaf ear to their unrelenting importunities settled down without further ado.

    As time went on, the persuasive argument which proceeded unabatedly via phone calls became so intense and severe that Ete was left with no other option than to do otherwise, perhaps just to fulfill all righteousness. In view of this, he tied the long overdue nuptial knots with Ukot Abang, 34, a young lady he came across few weeks back in the city of Uyo.

     The long awaited union brought another explicit joy to the entire family of Obong that on the day of the white wedding, the family was agog. Elder Obong who couldn’t hide his extreme gladness felt not unlike a 20-year-old man; to him, it was like a dream come true.

     Having fulfilled the expected righteousness, the newly wedded man was relieved of the endless trauma which was solely manufactured by his elderly parents. Ironically, it seemed the trauma was shifted to his innocent wife, Ukot. For several months instantly after their honeymoon, which lasted barely fourteen days, Ete hardly paid attention to her especially on issues relating to bed affairs.

      He went to work on weekdays and returned late at night almost on a daily basis, and when confronted by the wife he would tender frivolous excuses. More pitiably, at the weekends when he was meant to spend more time with her, he would prefer to hang out with his so-called friends. The melodrama lingered persistently until she decided to share the ugly experience with both her biological and matrimonial parents.

     The aforesaid couples - Elder & Mrs Obong and Mr & Mrs Abang, who frowned at the incident the moment they separately received the complaint took their precious times to enquire from Ete why he had chosen to treat his wife cruelly rather than doing the needful, even when everyone earnestly looked forward to hear the cry of a newborn baby. The defendant who claimed that his actions weren’t deliberate, therein abjured the idiosyncrasy.

     Consequently, he adjusted his lifestyle as promised for a few weeks but later reawoke his real self. This time, it was densely unbearable. Hence, Ukot made up her mind to spy on him, thus she employed an expert to do the critical job.   

     “Hello madam.” The spy called Ukot on phone as she picked the call.

      It was barely two days after she assigned the work to him.

     “Yes Bassey.” She answered.

     “Please, are you alone?” Bassey inquired.

     “What’s it?”

     “I’ve an important message for you.”

     “Go ahead.” She urged.

     “Go to Avocado Hotel right now,” he enjoined. “Your husband is about to meet his guest in Room 301.”

     “A woman…?” She exclaimed.

     “Maybe.” Bassey responded with a thick voice. “Good luck, madam.” He added, cut the informative call.

     Avocado hotel was situated about ten kilometres from their place of residence. The moment she arrived at the hotel, she went straight to the room having received a direction from the receptionist; she lied to the receptionist that she was an expected guest.

     As soon as the door was let open by starkly naked Ete on hearing a knock which he thought came from an awaited waitress, Ukot could not believe what she saw. Right in the hotel bed was a nude young man who appeared to be in his early thirties partly covered with the bedspread. It wasn’t even her fellow woman as she presumed.

    The astonished Ete was speechless, stood still at the door. Whilst the other deviant seemed paralysed as he lied helplessly in the bed.

     So, ab initio this had been the reason for his weird lifestyle? Really pathetic and astonishing.

    Therein, Ukot who couldn’t withstand the ignominy attached to the hideous truth passed out right at the entrance.

    What transpired afterwards ought to be a story for another day. Think about it! 

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Across The Border

ACROSS THE BORDER

    Anyone was liable to insinuate that he was psychologically suffering from myopia. If not, why would he abandon his workshop for an undefined odyssey simply because he yearned for a bigger venture? No wonder he had been putting on a wistful feeling ever since he founded the workshop perhaps out of weariness, having forgotten that a journey of a thousand miles must begin with a step. Nevertheless, only the 34-year-old Dapo knew exactly if such step taken by him was consequential and the needful.

    Dapo, a graduate of Electrical/Electronic Engineering who thought it wise to set up an engineering workshop after his long years of search for a white-collar job proved abortive was really an industrious and intelligent young man who appeared to be very dedicated to his professional handwork. Fascinatingly, he was receiving an encouraging patronage unabatedly because he was unarguably equal to the task. The aforementioned abrupt change of mind transpired barely eleven months after he established the said workshop with the help of his lovable parents owing to the encounter he had with his old time friend, Tunji in one of the famous joints situated in the city of Akure in Ondo State, Nigeria where he resided.

     “Could this be Tunji?” He thought as he caught sight of him in the distance the moment he stepped into the joint.

     It was about 6:13pm on Thursday 17^th of September 2015.

     Tunji, seated at one of the corners in the joint in the company of his contemporary friend Segun of the same age bracket, looked up and also sighted Dapo. “Who am I seeing?” He thought aloud, though wasn’t heard by Dapo who wasn’t yet near.

     “What’s it?” Segun said.

     “The guy who just walked in appears exactly like one of my close pals called Dapo those days in the university.” Tunji cleared the air.

     “May be he’s the one.” Segun reasoned.

     Within a few seconds, Dapo walked closer to where they were seated. The moment he got there, he became astonished having confirmed that it was Tunji. Little did he know that he would come across him again in his lifetime. “Tunji!” He managed to utter.

     “Oh my God,” Tunji exclaimed dumbfoundedly, stood up hastily. “So it’s you, Dapo!”

     They hugged each other passionately.

     Segun smiled heavily as he observed the reunion.

     It was indeed a nostalgic moment.

     Dapo was instantly offered a seat at the round table. Prior to his arrival, Tunji and Segun had already emptied some bottles of lager beer coupled with plates of pepper soup. He was enjoined to join the chorus. “What are you doing in Akure?” He asked Tunji.

      “I came to see my friend.” Tunji replied, pointing at Segun. “Please, forgive my manners.” He asked Dapo having acknowledged that he was yet to make the needed introductions.

      “No wahala.” Dapo accepted.

      “Please meet Segun, my beloved pal.” Tunji rode on, gesticulating. “He also hails from this state.”

      Dapo being an indigene of Ondo State nodded in appreciation.

     “Segun, please meet Dapo,” Tunji continued in a similar style. “He was one of the best brains during our days in UniLag.” He enthused frantically.

     Dapo and Tunji were both engineering graduates of the University of Lagos (UniLag), Akoka in Lagos State, Nigeria.

     “He is also a son of the soil.” Tunji landed.

     Tunji was a guest in the state; he hailed from a neighbouring province, Ogun State to be precise.

     Segun quickly straight out his right hand for a handshake; Dapo complied. It was a warmth and pleasant greeting, “Nice to meet you.” Segun dished out amid the handshake.

     “The pleasure is all mine.” Dapo responded.

     Tunji smiled. “Segun and I are both residents of Italy,” He intimated. “We import goods to Nigeria from time to time.”

     Dapo nodded.

     “So, do you based here?” He asked Dapo.

     “Yea,” said Dapo. “Ever since we finished our NYSC about seven years ago, I have been here.”

     “And, what have you been into?” Tunji stylishly enquired.

     “My brother, leave matter for Matthias.” hinted Dapo who wore blue jean trousers, black polo and brown leather slippers.

     “Meaning…?” Tunji who put on black three-quarter jeans, grey T-shirt and white trainers verified.

     “Na long story, my brother.”

     Segun who clad in ash jean trousers, white shirt, black plain shoes and a white face cap shook his head in sympathy as if he already knew the yet to be disclosed tale.

     The incidental get-together lasted for about forty minutes before they departed for their various residences. Prior to their exit, Tunji and Dapo scheduled to meet the following two days at Segun’s place.

     During the said meeting, Tunji and Segun who were drug barons succeeded in winning the mind of the frustrated-looking Dapo. Obviously, the gangsters needed not many words to convince the desperate Dapo that their kind of business was the most ‘lucrative’. Therein, he willing agreed to follow suit.

     The Italian based bachelors who could boast of anything money could afford specialized in exporting such illicit drugs as cocaine and marijuana to various European nations, and at intervals they would import some goods into Nigeria. They had been into the ostensibly successful game for over four years without encountering any hitch.

     Dapo, having gotten the needed modus and operandi of the densely risky venture, made up his mind to sale off his workshop to enable him raise the required capital. He consequently lied to his parents that he was leaving the country for a European nation in search of ‘greener’ pasture. Indeed, he was psychologically myopic as being speculated by those who learnt the silly decision he had taken.            

     On the day of Dapo’s first move in the company of his accomplices Tunji and Segun, specifically on Sunday 4^th of October 2015, three of them were caught at the border with about 92.5 kilograms of cannabis by the men of the Nigeria Customs Service (NCS).

     Afterwards, they found themselves in jail in respect to a verdict, after they willingly pleaded guilty.

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What Goes Around

WHAT GOES AROUND

    ‘She’s talkative, brainless, possessed and troublesome, though naturally pretty.’ That was the apt way the 17-year-old Funke could be described by anyone who knew her person to the core. The annoying teen who was still in J.S.S-3 owing to her several failures during exams wasn’t just a nonentity but a girl everyone saw as someone who was mistakenly created. When others were learning, she would be busy disturbing the class. Every effort displayed by her teachers and kin to reshape her unbearable lifestyle were all in vain. The most worrisome was that no one including her helpless parents could prevent her from doing whatever she intended to. She was indeed naughty.

    The good side of her idiosyncrasies was that being the first child of the parents among their six children she was a good cook, though she could help her mother, Jumoke in the kitchen only when she felt like. She was really giving her mother hell; to assert the least, she detested Jumoke unconditionally with passion. Going by her actions, it seemed as if Jumoke was sharing the same man with her. She had been like that from birth, but the attitude was ignored or laughed over hoping that she would definitely turn a new leaf when she grew up.

    ‘What could be the problem?’ ‘Something must be wrong somewhere.’ everyone wondered. In spite of the gravity of the insinuations accompanied with wonders, the bone of contention remained to see who could unravel the mystery.

     The unfortunate intrigues proceeded unendingly to the extent that one fateful day she framed an unspeakable lie against her mum. She falsely notified her dad, Mr Biodun that her mum had been sleeping around with several men.

     “What?” Mr Biodun exclaimed at the top of his voice right in his sitting room the moment he got the forged news.

     “Dad,” she called passionately. “Have I lied to you before?”

     Mr Biodun who was still shocked shook his head.

     Another good side of Funke who was her parents’ only daughter was that, although talkative, she hardly told lies and everyone to include her parents could attest to the fact.

     Both of them were seated in separate upholstery chairs in the sitting room. It was about 3:17pm; she had earlier in the day told the dad that she had something very tangible to discuss with him when she returned from school. The man in question couldn’t wait for her arrival because that was the first time she would engage him in such appointment.

     Jumoke - a hardworking civil servant and an industrious housewife, was yet to return when the lamentable incident was transpiring.

    “So I wouldn’t start now.” Funke claimed.

    “But why haven’t you said this all these while?” Mr Biodun queried.

    “Dad, there’s time for everything.”

    “Oh my God!” the confused Biodun lamented. “Are you very sure about this?” He added.

    “Since you don’t seem to believe me,” she furiously said, stood up. “I’m out of here.”

     “Hold on, hold on, hold on.” He urged.

     “What’s it?” the brat ranted, stood still.

     “Sit down, my daughter.”

      She hastily resumed her seat, frowning.

     “Since when have you been noticing this?”

     “Dad, I have told you all I know,” she responded unfriendly. “No further questions.”

     Thereafter, the successful trader, Mr Biodun couldn’t wait for his wife’s arrival to confront her with the breaking news. In less than fifteen minutes time, the awaited guest whom could best be described as ‘the most wanted’ arrived home just as her intended host anticipated. Therein without much ado, she was confronted with the weird allegation, which she refuted frantically in a depressed and shattered mood. He never disclosed to her the source of the information.

     Consequently, despite the frantic rebuttal from the accused person, within 24 hours Mr Biodun got estranged with her. He sent her back to her paternal home that was virtually deserted owing to her parents’ eternal exit.

     None of her male siblings was residing at home; three of them were all resident in the city. Only members of the extended family could be found within the vicinity. Jumoke was the last child and only daughter of her departed parents amidst their four children.

     Biodun’s abrupt divorce, though informal, with Jumoke was the greatest mistake he had made so far. Jumoke was reckoned to be virtuous that everyone within saw her as an epitome of a real housewife, and every bachelor that knew her longed to settle down with her like. Owing to this, he was severely blamed by all his friends and kin for the unceremonious action taken by him. He never told anyone, except his intimate pals, the genesis of the whole brouhaha. The deed had been done; the most valid question then was who could proffer a remedy to the unwanted scenario.

     Funke later blamed herself for the wicked lie told against her mother. Apart from the guilt, Jumoke’s absence was seriously telling on her alongside her younger siblings; that was when she understood the inevitable impact of a mother, even a cruel type, on her children.

     In spite of the overwhelming speculations as well as blames, Biodun remained firm in his decision, even though the situation was also telling on his person. And, the circumstance lingered unbearably for several months.

     Those who knew the origin of the incidence were of the opinion that Biodun really went astray. To start with, how could he have listened to a girl who was believed by all and sundry to be a member of a coven?

     Jumoke was left with no choice than to go in search of the root cause of her predicament. With the help of one of her childhood friends, Kemi who was deeply touched by her condition, she was lucky to meet a genuine soothsayer who told her the story of her life that was seemingly forgotten.

     “My daughter,” the soothsayer called Jumoke in the company of her friend. “You are the cause of your problem.” He frankly hinted.

     “What?” Kemi exclaimed in awe.

     “How do you mean, Baba?” Jumoke enquired apprehensively.

     “Many years ago…” the soothsayer began the awaited tale.

     Jumoke being the only daughter of her late parents, prior to her marriage with Biodun, she was the only companion her mother had when she was still alive, after her father’s departure. And, she was a very stubborn and wild girl, though she later calmed down the moment she tied the nuptial knots, that in most occasions she ended up nagging with or talking rudely to her mother; she never cared a bit for her (the mother). Her endless unconditional hostility towards her aged mother was giving the woman invariable sleepless nights. The series of intervention coupled with severe warnings from her elder brothers whom were visiting home at intervals, proved abortive. The awful experience lingered till one fateful day when the old woman cast a spell on her (Jumoke); she was told that her daughter would definitely treat her in a similar way when she got married.

     kemi and Jumoke were left dumbfounded after the narrative essay; it was really an untold story. Truly, what goes around comes around. All the men of God Jumoke and her estranged husband had consulted regarding their daughter’s plight never disclosed such tale.

     “What do we do, Baba?” Kemi said.

     “She needs to appease the spirit of her late mother.” The old man landed succinctly.

     After all said and done, Funke was delivered from the attack and her parents were happily married again. The reunion as well as the deliverance ushered in a totally different era in the family of eight.  

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