Grace to Grass

GRACE TO GRASS

     “Hello…” Lilian exclaimed as she picked her phone call.

     It was an unknown number.

     “Good morning, dear.” An unfamiliar masculine voice greeted immediately.

     “Good morning, Sir…” she responded. “Please, who’s this?”

It was about some minutes past ten on October 8, 2008.

     “Please, is this Okoro Lilian?” The unknown voice enquired amidst the suspense.

     “Yes,” she replied in a very low tone. “Please, who is this?” She queried anxiously.

“Eh-eh-m,” the caller quickly cleared his throat. “Okay, this is Adewale Martins.”

     The name was relatively unknown to her.

     “The Human Resources Manager of Arise Group of Companies, Abuja.” He clarified.

     “Oh,” Lilian exclaimed. “Good morning, Sir.” She reiterated excitedly and apprehensively.

     Arise Group of Companies Limited was one of the notable firms in Nigeria whose headquarters was situated in the country’s Capital Territory, Abuja; it majored mainly in production of foods such as garri, baking flour and condiments, wheat and corn flour. Lilian successfully passed through both the oral and written job interviews of the company few days back alongside other several applicants.

     Lilian, a 29-year old lady, was a graduate of Marketing from the Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma, Edo State, Nigeria; she graduated five years back, precisely 2003, after which she participated in the Nigeria’s compulsory one-year National Youth Service programme.

     Mr Martins who happened to be the leader of the 5-man interview crew set up by the company got her phone number from the Curriculum Vitae (CV) she tendered to the company.

     “Morning, my dear,” He responded to the greeting. “Where do you reside?” He added.

    “Kubwa Sir.” She answered.

    Kubwa, which was one of the major suburban districts in Abuja, was slightly near to the location of the company.

     “Okay, you’re a resident of Abuja?”

     “Yes Sir.”

     “Can you make it to our office first thing tomorrow morning?”

     Of course, that was one of the most vital questions she longed to hear considering how long she had spent in the labour market.

     “Like what time, Sir?”

     “By 9am.”

     “Yes Sir,” she gladly concurred. “I can.”

     “Okay, till then,” he said. “Ask of me when you come.”

     “Okay Sir.” Replied Lilian, smiling.

      He cut the call instantly.

      The following day being October 9, 2008, Lilian who couldn’t wait to embrace the moment arrived at the company as scheduled at exactly thirty-one minutes past eight in the morning (8.31 am) far earlier to the agreed time. When she got to the place, she was told that the HRM – Mr Martins was yet to be on seat, so she had to wait till about some minutes past nine when he eventually arrived.

      “Good morning, Sir.” Lilian greeted, head bent as she walked into Mr Martins’ office having closed the door.

     Lilian clad in black suit coupled with black plain trousers, black plain shoes and a white shirt recollected the face she was seeing having come across Martins on a few occasions.

     “Hello pretty,” Martins seated on his office chair in his white suit exclaimed, smiling. “How long have you been here?”

     “Almost an hour, Sir.” She said. Stood still.

     “Please sit down.” He urged.

     “Thank you, Sir.” Said Lilian. Majestically sat on one of the chairs positioned opposite the host.

    “You are welcome.”

    There was a few seconds silence.

     “Actually… I invited you for a crucial interaction,” he said. “That would be helpful to you.”

    “Okay Sir.” She said, nodding. Smiled heavily.

     Her arms, which held each other, were placed on the table.

    “You see,” He rode on. “I like helping young girls like you.”

     “Thank you, Sir.” She appreciated, lowering her head which was beautified with gorgeously plaited black hairs.

     “Especially pretty ones like you.” He added.

      She smiled.

      Lilian who was naturally endowed, was obviously a dark pretty damsel that any man would wished to behold; she was plump and average in height. Mr Martins who was in his early fifties picked interest in her during the interview exercise.

    “Before I proceed,” he said. “I would like to ask you a question.”

    “What is it, Sir?”

    “Do you truly want to get this job?”

Amazed. “Sir,” she said. “This is what I’ve been looking for, for over four years now.”

     “Meaning,” said the HRM. “You can’t wait to have the job, right?”

     “Yes Sir.” She replied passionately.

     He smiled. “So,” he said. “Are you willing to do what is expected of you?” He finally hinted.

     “Like what, Sir?”

     “It’s a pity you’re not familiar with the tradition.”

     The unsuspecting applicant remained curious.

      Since the interview segment Mr Martins picked interest in her, he had been preoccupied with series of fantasies regarding his foreseen relationship with her. Mr Martins was a randy man to the core in spite of the fact that he was happily married with four children; he was very good in playing games.

     “Meet me at New Haven Hotel tomorrow by 10am,” Martins urged. “By then, the picture would be clearer to you.”

     “Hotel…?” Lilian shouted naively. Deeply surprised.

     “Stop acting like a kid,” Martins enjoined. “This is what your mates do to get what they want.”

     At this point, she needed not a prophet to interpret the circumstance to her; she couldn’t believe herself. When she was invited over the previous day, she was totally of the view that she was coming to pick her employment letter unknowingly to her that the reverse was the case. Lilian was an ardent practising Christian owing to her family background, who couldn’t imagine betraying the faith she had nurtured since childhood let alone doing so with a man who was old enough to be her father.

     “Sir, are you actually asking me to have an affair with you?” She verified.

    “The handwriting is bold and clear,” he said. “Or, isn’t it?”

    “I’m sorry Sir,” she said. “I can’t.”

    “Stop being naive, young lady…” He ranted.

Martins was a no nonsense man who believed he could get anything he wanted on a platter of gold.

     “I’ve painstakingly gone through your CV,” he continued, frowning. “You have been in the labour market for four years now.” He said, looking into her eyes seriously. “And, I’m sure you wouldn’t wish to continue with the unending job hunt.”

Immediately, he appeared to her not unlike a monster. The scene occurred to her like a daydream.

     “Besides, do you think you’re the only lady among the teeming applicants?” He proceeded. “I chose you because I care so much about you.”

    There was absolute silence.

   “I’m sorry Sir,” she said. “I can’t.” She disclosed. Stood up.

   “Are you sure about this?” He enquired. Amazed. Still on his seat.

    He was yet to encounter such manner of rigidity since he commenced his promiscuous lifestyle.

Lilian was speechless while standing. She felt like pouring him acid.

    “Well, I will give you some time to think about it.” He added.

    “There’s nothing to think about.” She ranted. Hurriedly took her handbag which was kept on the table and walked towards the office entrance.

    “Nonsense,” Martins lamented. “Go and remain in the street; apparently that’s where you belong.”

     She hastily stopped on hearing the abuse, angrily turned her head to where he was seated, sighed at him and dashed out.

     “Non…sense!” Martins reiterated disappointedly. Stood up. “Look at someone I wanted to help.” He thought aloud.

             * * * * * *

     “Hello,” Mr Martins said as he answered his phone, which had already rang twice, right in his office. “Who’s this?”

    “Sir, it’s me.”

It was an unknown feminine voice.

     “Who, please?”

     “Lilian,” the voice answered. “Okoro Lilian.”

     Probably he didn’t save her number on his phonebook.

     That was the least of the names Martins expected to hear. It was in the morning on 16^th of October 2008, exactly one week the caller furiously left his office.

     Lilian thought it wise to resort to his demand after she got a misleading advice from one of her closest friends, Kemi who was also a job hunter. Having shared the ordeal with her (Kemi), Kemi told her that that was the kind of opportunity she had be awaiting, stating that she wished she was in her (Lilian’s) shoes; hence, warned her not to forfeit the offer. She never minded discussing the issue with her mum as she had always done; thus she decided to keep her parents in the dark.

    “So, what can I do for you?” Martins queried.

    “Please Sir,” she said. “Can I come and see you in the office tomorrow?”

    “For what?”

    “I will explain when I come, Sir.”

    “Young lady, tell me what you’re coming to my office to do,” he urged. “The last time you were here, I was like a monster to you.”

     There was silence.

     “Would you speak?” He reiterated. “Or, should I cut this call?”

     “No Sir,” she feverishly said. Gushed out tears. “I’ve accepted.”  She eventually hinted in a low tone.

     “Accepted what…?” He pretentiously enquired.

     “The offer, Sir.”

     “Which offer?” He loudly asked. Laughed falsely. “You amuse me; do you think we are selling crayfish here?”

     “Please Sir.”

     “I’m sorry,” he said. “Someone who’s more serious has taken the space.”

     “Plea…se Sir,” she pleaded. “I’m very sorry for all the pains I caused you.”

     He smiled; the plea was so fascinating to him. He was wondering if such plea was coming from a woman who acted exactly like a saint few days ago in his office.

     “So, what do you want me to do now?” He said. “Manufacture a space for you?”

    “Sir, I know you can do something.” She thought aloud. “Please, I’m on my knees.”

    “Okay,” he said. “Meet me at same venue at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

    “Remind me the name, Sir.”

    “New Haven Hotel,” he responded. “Room 235.”

    “Okay Sir,” she concurred. “I’ll be there by ten.”

    “Good luck then.” Martins dished out. Cut the call even though he wasn’t the caller.

     Afterwards, in two days’ time, Lilian became a staff of the Marketing Department of Arise Group of Companies Limited. Interestingly, she was issued an official car with a driver on commencement based on the ethics of the company.

     Amazingly, Lilian’s romantic affair with Martins continued to the extent that the silly game was being played even in their respective offices. Initially, it remained secret not until one fateful afternoon when they were caught in the act right in Martins’ office. The company’s Management couldn’t believe it; Martins promiscuous behaviour was undoubtedly hidden to them prior to the unthinkable incident.

     Subsequently, both of them were dismissed from the company. The unforeseen moment of grace to grass came at about four months after Lilian secured the employment, February 2009 specifically.

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Unforeseen Confession

UNFORESEEN CONFESSION

     “The Lord is Good!” Mr Amakiri eulogized, looking at the sky while in his promising farmyard.

     “All the time.” His son Kosarachi added excitedly.

     Mr Amakiri was an industrious and well respected farmer in the whole of Umuokanne – the ancient community where he hailed from. Apparently, between 1982 and 1989 or thereabouts – the period when his name rang bell most, it was only a day old child that was yet to be conversant with the name ‘Amakiri’ whenever‘ farming’ was mentioned; needless to state that the name was synonymous with farming or agriculture. His prospect became astonishing that his Traditional Ruler Igwe P.O. Duru bestowed on him ‘Eze–Ji I of Umuokanne’, which literally implied the ‘greatest yam producer in the land’, owing to the outstanding yam cultivation invariably witnessed in his various farmyards that consistently led to harvest of thousands of yam tubers annually.

      Clad in his not unusual farming attire in the company of his son Kosarachi who put on a hat made of a wick material, that fateful day, MrAmakiri had gone to his farm as usual to inspect the growth of his crops; and luckily for him, they were doing very well. The aforementioned eulogy ‘The Lord is good’, which came as soon as they arrived at the farmyard, was as a result of the euphoria attached to the fascinating scene he just witnessed. They spent over thirty minutes admiring the flourishing plants while taking time to went across the four corners of the enviable farmyard.

      “Kosarachi, my son.”Amakari called tenderly while still taking a walk round the said farm alongside his son who happened to be his only child.

      “Yes Papa.” Kosarachi answered.

‘Papa’ is the native way of addressing a father in Igboland, which was their place of origin.

      MrAmakiri stopped, looked at his son, “Do you know why I always bring you here?” He said while stationary.

     “You mean the farm?” asked Kosarachi who was also stationary.

     “Yes,” Amakiri said. “And the other farms.”

     “No Papa.”

     “Sit down my son.” Amakiri urged while lowering his waist to sit on the farmland.

     “kosarachi complied. Both of them quickly sat on the available farmland within their reach having used bunch of plant leaves to cover the nudeness of the land.

     “I inherited this farm business from my late father,” Amakiri proceeded.      

     “Omemgbeoji.” He added referring to his late father’s name.

    They were facing each other, and also closely seated.

    “Being his only son,” He rode on. “He wanted the best for me.”

     Kosarachi nodded twice in comprehension.

    “He always told me that he could not wait to see me being in charge of his farms.”

    “He really loved you, Papa.” Kosarachi insinuated.

    “Yes he did.” Amakiri asserted. “That’s why I did everything humanly possible to please him.”

     His son nodded. “Amazing.” He dished out. Smiled.

     “Kosarachi my son.” He reiterated.

     “Yes Papa.”

     “I want you to know that,” the great farmer whom was in his late fifties continued. “I always bring you here because I want you to understand everything about this farming business.”

      Kosarachi, a young man in his mid-twenties, became very attentive.

      “There’s more you need to know about this business.” Amakiri disclosed.     

      “Therefore, you must dedicate all your time to it.”

      His son nodded severally. Remained calm.

      “Farming is a very lucrative occupation.” Amakiri notified. “But it requires enormous time.”

      There was a few seconds silence.

      “Kosara nwa m.” He proceeded.

     ‘Nwa m’ implied ‘my son’.

     “Yes Papa.”

     “One day,” said Amakiri. “You would be in charge of all my farms.”

     “I know Papa.” Kosarachi chipped in.

     “That’s my son.” His father appreciated. “I know you will make me proud.” He added, smiling. Paused. “Even in my grave.” He hinted.

They looked at each other passionately. “I want you to promise me one thing.” Amakiri said.

     “What Papa?”

     “That you will remain serious-minded.”

     “Ah – Ah, Papa…” Kosarachi exclaimed. “Of course, I will always be a serious boy.”

     “You promise?” His father verified anxiously, looking into his eyes.

     “Yes Papa.” He reassured confidently.

     “That’s my boy!” The zealous farmer excitedly exclaimed. “Is time to go home.” He suggested.

     His son concurred. They immediately stood up and left for their abode.

     Two weeks later, being April 13, 1989, unfortunately Mr Amakiri gave up the ghost owing to a snakebite that transpired right in one of his farmyards. Thereafter the burial, life became so unbearable to Kosarachi and his mother, that, they hardly knew where and how to start as regards the farm business. But with their little knowledge and experience, they vowed to make the deceased person proud in his grave, which was all he ever prayed and worked for all through his lifetime; on the contrary, little did they know that hard times lied ahead.

 

        * * * * * *

     “Kosarachi…” Maduka called the moment he was offered a seat at Kosarachi’s home.

     Maduka was one of Kosarachi’s closest uncles, and he was also a farmer by profession but he was a small-scale farmer compared to his late brother Amakiri. Maduka was undoubtedly a very greedy and dangerous man whom was in his early fifties, that, every second in his life his mindset was preoccupied with an intended evil act; every indigene of Umuokanne was very much aware of his dangerous lifestyle.

     Kosarachi was also warned by his late father while alive to be very careful with him (Maduka) and he heeded the candid advice seriously because he sincerely believed in every word that came from the deceased’s mouth.

     Maduka whose house was sited very close to that of Kosarachi’s late father, had walked to their sitting room where he (Kosarachi) was relaxing with his beloved mother Obiageri in the early morning at about some minutes past six of that very day being April 28, 1989 barely two weeks after his late step-brother’s exit; and just three days after the burial.

     “Yes uncle.” Kosarachi responded.

His mother was seated adjacent and closely to him while Maduka sat opposite him but a bit farther.

      “This one you came by this time,” Kosarachi added. “Hope all is well?”

Obviously, Maduka’s countenance wasn’t friendly that even a visually impaired person could notice it.

      “Eh-eh m,” Maduka hastily cleared his throat. “I’ve come to warn you to stay clear from my land at Umuobodo.” He disclosed frantically.

      Umuobodo was one of the clans situated in Umuokanne Ancient Community. The aforesaid land was where both Maduka and his late step-brother Amakiri separately owned farmyards; the land, which was duly shared among them, was inherited from their late father Omemgbeoji. Ab initio when Amakiri was alive, the greedy Maduka had made several failed efforts to deprive him (Amakiri) of his portion; he kept on finding fault at the boundary between the two lands. And, Kosarachi was informed of the dispute by his late father.

      It was actually on that land that Amakiri got the snakebite that led to his untimely death.

      Unarguably, Kosarachi and his mother were shocked over the uncanny warning; though they were very much aware of what Maduka was capable of doing but the early morning warning, which came exactly fourteen days after Amakiri’s departure, was the least they expected from him.

      “Uncle,” Kosarachi called. Frowned. “I’m surprise at you.”

      His mother, Obiageri who was still shocked, remained calm.

      “Is this what you came to tell me at this time of the day?” Kosarachi continued. “Barely three days after your brother’s burial?”

      “I’ve warned you Kosarachi.” Maduka repeated fiercely. “That land belongs to me.”

     “Besides,” Kosarachi interrupted. “My father never told me that the land in question is in dispute.” He lied.

     “Okay,” Maduka said. “Maybe he would tell you when you meet him in the grave.” He hinted harshly.

      “What?” Kosarachi exclaimed in a high tone.

      His mother shook her head in shock. Remained silent.

Obiageri was indeed an easy going woman that tried every means to avoid troubles.

     “Obiageri,” Maduka called. “You better warn your son.” He concluded. Stood up and left for his home crazily like one whose house was on fire.

      “Okay,” Kosarachi ranted. “We shall see.”

      “Kosarachi my son,” Obiageri called tenderly as soon as the August visitor left. “You have to be very, very careful.”

     “How Mama?”

      “That man is evil.” She informed. “I’m sure your late father told you about this.” She hurriedly added referring to Maduka’s evil nature.

      “Mama, that man cannot do more than a dead rat.” He replied naively.   “You people are just fearing him for nothing.” He concluded.

      Two months later, Kosarachi fell critically ill. Every medical diagnosis in respect to the illness detected nothing, which prompted the intervention of their church Reverend. At the long run, it was ascertained that the unending disease, which had already claimed much of the family’s wealth, was attributed to a spiritual mechanism. Thus, the family was placed on a two-week fasting and prayers after which a deliverance was conducted at the family’s compound at the night of July 7, 1989.

      Something very remarkable and amazing transpired at that very night while the family deliverance was taking place. Surprisingly, Maduka hastily ran out of his house half-naked to Kosarachi’s compound where the deliverance was ongoing. He instantly fell on the ground and sought for their forgiveness having confessed to them that he was solely responsible for Kosarachi’s illness as well as his father’s death. The confession, which kept everyone dumbfounded, was never seen coming by the poor family.

 

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Intriguing Moment

INTRIGUING MOMENT

     “Nenye…” Ada called.

     “Yes dear.”

     “Lest I forget,” Ada said. “I’ll be leaving for Abuja tomorrow.”

     “Hope all is well?” Nenye verified.

     “Of course,” said Ada. “My Chairman wants to see me.”

     “Chairman?”

     Ada and Nenye were undergraduates in one of the campuses situated in Rivers State, Nigeria and they happened to be roommates, though were of different departments. They met each other during their first year, twelve months back to be precise, the moment they found themselves on campus.

Contrary to Nenye’s lifestyle, Ada was obviously a flirt both on and outside the campus and her pattern of living was really telling on her innocent roommate who was wholly devoted to her academics.

     Ada who could afford anything money could as a student because of her acquaintances with her so called Sugar Daddies, was cajoled into the ugly trend by some of her schoolmates barely eight weeks after she found herself in the institution. Funny enough, as a second year student, she hardly sat for any course during her semester examinations and at the end of the day, she would come out with flying colours to her classmates’ greatest surprise; what she knew how to do best was to cruise around with her friends of like minds in her red Sport Toyota car bought by one of her countless ‘sugar daddies’. But whenever she visited home, she wouldn’t dare travelling in the car so that her parents wouldn’t realize her true self; she would rather go in a public cab.

     “My man, of course.” She clarified.

      They were seated in their apartment, right inside their bedroom.

      “Hmm,” Nenye murmured. “So you now have a man in Abuja?”

      “What kind of question is that?” Ada interrupted, frowning.

      “Ada,” Nenye politely called. “When will you change?”

      “When did you become a Pastor?” said Ada. “Abeg, abeg, abeg.” She urged, waving her right hand.

      “Ada,” Nenye continued. “Is not that I’m trying to decide for you.”

       Ada was relatively calm.

“After all, you’ve your life to live.”

       Ada remained silent, facing the other side of the room.

       “But you should have known that we just resumed for a new session.”      Nenye relentlessly reiterated. “Right now, I expected you to be concerned about how this 200 Level would be…”

      Ada quickly crossed her left leg on the right one, backing her roommate.

     “Rather than travelling from one city to the other.”Nenye landed.

      Ada appeared adamant. “Please, Nenye…” she chipped in. “Spare me these uncalled preaches.”

      “Is not what you think.” Nenye rode on. “I’m only trying to let you face reality.”

     “Enough of these,” Ada ranted at the top of her voice. “Please...” She added. Stood up angrily.

      “Is okay, is okay.” Nenye surrendered, waving her two hands.

Both of them were seated on their 16-inches foam which was lying freely on the tiled floor.

      “So, what time are you leaving?”

      “Now you’re talking.” Ada applauded. “This is what you should have asked since.” She said. Resumed her seat.

      This time, she was facing Nenye her presumed enemy.

      “I said is okay,” Nenye urged. Pause. “Ada baby.” She teased her pretentiously.

     Ada smiled. “Na wa for you, oh!” She exclaimed.

“So what time?” Nenye reminded.

      “Well,” said Ada. “I’ll be going by flight, as usual.”

     “Big girl!”Nenye teased.

    “You won try…?” Ada responded in pidgin.

    Nenye smiled in accordance.

      “I’ve asked you to join the winning team,” Ada chipped in. “But you wouldn’t listen.”

      “Don’t even go there.” Nenye warned.

      Ada had been persuading her to join the trend but she consistently rebutted the proposal.

      “I’m sorry.” Ada said. “That was slip of tongue.”

      Nenye became really unhappy over the utterance.

     Ada having observed the bad mood hastily moved to where she was seated. “I’m sorry nah.” She reiterated, tenderly shaking Nenye’s body with her right hand.

      Nenye smiled. “I’ve heard you.” She said. “So what time is your flight?”

     “Hmm,” said Ada. “10am.”

     “Okay,” Nenye dished out. “I wish you safe journey.”

     “Thank you, darling…” Ada appreciated.

 

   * * * * * *

      “So, how was the trip?” Nenye enquired.

      “My dear,” Ada said. “Enough torridey, oh!” She replied in pidgin, which meant there was a lot to discuss.

      It was few minutes after Ada’s arrival from Abuja where she spent a night with her newest Sugar Daddy – Chief Wale.

Nenye sat on their reading chair, which was paired with a plastic table; she was busy with her assignments. Whilst Ada who just had a cool shower was standing with a white tower tied round her gorgeous waist; she was plump, chocolate, and average in height – she was apparently naturally endowed.

      “So gist me.”Nenye inquisitively said.

      “My dear,” Ada continued. “Chief Wale is stinkingly rich.”

      “Who’s Chief Wale?”

      “The man I went to see in Abuja nah.” Said Ada.“My newest Chairman.” She added, smiling.

      “Hmm…” Nenye murmured. Shook her head. “The people you date are men that are as old as your father.”

       Ada was calm.

     “If not older.” She landed.

     “And so?” Ada nagged. “Provided they give me what I want.”

     Nenye was silent.

     “Or, you want me to move with these boys that can’t even give someone up to 20k per night?”

      “Hmm…” Nenye sighed. Shook her head for several seconds. “You can’t stop amusing me.”

There was silence.

      “You still haven’t gist me about the trip.”

      “Are you not the one dampening my spirit?” Ada responded. Sat on their foam which was situated beside the reading chair where her roommate was seated. “Chief took me out for a shopping.”

Nenye repositioned herself. Became curious.

      “You wouldn’t believe it.” She rode on. “He bought me gold this, gold that…”

“Serious?” Nenye enquired.

      “Are you doubting me?” Ada said, quickly brought her handbag and opened it to Nenye’s delight. “Check this out.” She proudly said.

      Obviously, the handbag was loaded with all kinds of gold to include necklace, earrings, and wristwatch, among others.

      “Eeye…!” Nenye exclaimed. Astonished.

      “My dear, that is not all.”

Nenye couldn’t wait to hear the rest. She widely opened her eyes.

      “As if that wasn’t enough,” Ada proceeded. “After the night at the hotel suite, guess what he gave me?”

      “What?” Nenye anxiously said. Filled with extreme curiosity.

     “You wouldn’t believe it,” she continued. “Chief showered me with a hundred thousand naira, cash.” She said, hurriedly dipped her right hand into one of the inner partitions in the handbag which was still in her hands and brought out a mint bundle of #1000 notes.

      “What…?” Nenye exclaimed. Couldn’t believe her sight.“Just for a night?”

      “That’s exactly what I’ve been telling you.” Ada hinted. “These men are fully loaded.”

Nenye, still preoccupied with amazement.

       “They are just looking for ladies that would help them eat the fucking money.” Ada landed.

       There was absolute tranquillity for a few seconds.

      “Nenye I’ve good news for you, oh.” Ada broke the silence.

      “Good news?”

      “Yes.”

      “What’s the good news?”

      Ada hesitated. “Chief would like to see you.” She finally hinted.

      “See me?” She surprisingly enquired, placing her left hand on her chest. “Which Chief?”

       “Yes.”

       “You still haven’t answered my question,” Nenye ranted. “Which Chief?”

       “Chief Wale, of course.”

      “For what?”

      “Nenye calm down,” Ada enjoined. “I’ve something to tell you.”

      “I’m listening.”

      “There’s this Chief’s friend that’s in need of someone.”

      “Someone like?”

      “Why are you sounding like this,” Ada quarrelled. “A lady, of course.”

       During Ada’s last meeting with Chief Wale at the Abuja hotel, he asked her to help him get one of her schoolmates for his business associate who was resident in Lagos, and Ada promised to comply soonest.

      “And you think I’m the right person for that?” Nenye said. Became irritated.

      “Nenye, you are like my sister,” Ada convincingly continued. “I can’t see a good thing and let someone else have it while you are here.”

      “As you can see,” Nenye said. “I’m busy with my assignments.”

      “My dear, you need to think about this.” Ada urged. “It’s for your own good.”

Nenye hastily faced her reading table thereby backing her roommate.

      “Just look at yourself,” Ada tenderly rode on. “You can’t even boast of anything you want as a student.”

Nenye was silent.

      “I know you’re not lacking anything,” Ada added. “But at least, you need something more than these.” She hinted referring to Nenye’s possessions.

Nenye remained speechless, still backing her.

      “After all, your dad is well to do.” confirmed Ada. “Still, he doesn’t want to give you just a common car.” She said. Paused. “This is one of the stuffs you can get from these chairmen.”

       Nenye quickly looked at Ada. “Am I complaining?” She chipped in. “Ada please…, leave me alone.” She urged.

      “Okay ooh,” Ada exclaimed. “But you need to think about it.” She added. Stood up.

       Nenye repositioned her skull. “I’ve heard you.” She replied just to discharge her, facing the books on the table.

       “You can’t afford to miss this golden opportunity.” said Ada. Stood still. “Use your brain.” She concluded, furiously dashed out of the room having dropped the handbag on the bed.

       Nenye dished out a deep sigh. “Non…sense.” She lamented.

       Few days later, amazingly Ada succeeded in convincing her roommate, Nenye having pleaded with her to give it a trial with a view that a trial wouldn’t harm her.

      The following day, both of them left for Abuja the venue for the proposed meeting via flight.

On that fateful day, Chief Wale had gone to bring them from the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja while his friend Chief Obi was relaxing in his hotel suite.

      “So what’s the name?” Chief Wale asked Nenye the moment the two ladies assumed their seats in his black Lexus Jeep.

       Nenye, a light-skinned, tall and slim looking lady who was in her early twenties was seated on of the back seats in the car while Ada was stylishly seated on the front seat like the ‘Madam’.

      “Nenye, Sir.” She responded.

       “Interesting,” Chief Wale exclaimed while on the steering. “So you are also an Igbo girl?”

      “Yes Sir.?”

      “My friend will like this.” He testified.

      Both ladies smiled glancing at each other.

     “So, Nenye who?” Chief Wale verified, referring to her surname, twisting his big head so he could look behind.

      “Nenye Obi.”

“Obi?” Chief Wale shockingly exclaimed on hearing the surname which was exactly her friend’s name.

      “Yes Sir.” Said Nenye.

“Any problem?” Ada enquired.

      “No,” Chief Wale replied. “Just marvelled over a coincidence.” He hinted.

      “Coincidence?” Ada apprehensively verified.

      “Never mind.” Chief Wale said. Became sober.

      The two ladies immediately looked at themselves. Amazed.

      There was maximum silence till they arrived at their destination.

      When they got to the hotel, Nenye was directed to the suite where her awaited host, chief Obi was lodged.

      As soon as the man in question who had lied to his wife in Lagos that he was coming to Abuja for a business deal opened the door for Nenye who was clad in a sexy pink gown having received an expected knock on the door, an unthinkable intriguing moment transpired. Both parties, on seeing each other stood still at the entrance not unlike electrocuted bodies.

      Chief Obi was actually Nenye’s biological father; she was the third among his four children. Wonders, they say, shall never end.

 

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