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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Could it be Real?

COULD IT BE REAL?

    Wonders, they say, shall never end. The least he foresaw; the bashful Nneka just bashed into his matrimonial room. “Could she be drunk?” he thought while sceptically and astonishly glancing at the pale-looking beautifully created creature that was clad in a white night gown as she stood at the room entrance leaning on the closed metal door. Emeka who was lying in his bed in his boxers couldn’t fathom his view; it was unarguably just like a dream. But could he be dreaming while his eyes were widely and enthusiastically open?

     “Nneka,” he managed to exclaim. “What are you doing in my room at this time of the night?”

      It was about 11:08pm.

     “I was feeling lonely,” she shyly responded. “I’m sorry.”

     Nneka was Emeka’s sister-in-law, precisely the immediate younger sibling to his newly wedded wife, Adaku. The couple tied the knot barely a few months back, and Nneka who was awaiting her National Youth Service programme having successfully rounded off her degree course some weeks back had been asked by the new couple upon request to join them in the city of Port-Harcourt, Rivers State while she await her NYSC; she just arrived their home three days back.

     Right from when the couple was still courting, Nneka had been attracted to Emeka without his knowledge nor his fiancée’s. Each time he visited their home in the absence of every other person including their parents, she would employ every tactics to prolong his stay even when he was very anxious to take his leave, unknowingly to him that she was up to something. Even on the day the couple tied the nuptial knots in which she was the chief bridesmaid, she felt as if she was the one getting married to him; the fantasies, euphoria as well as the not unusual sensational thoughts peculiar to such epoch-making moment were being nurtured by her person.

     On that very night when she appeared at the couple’s matrimonial room unannounced or like a ghost, Adaku – a practising gynaecologist who was engaged with one of the government general hospitals in the city had been called earlier at the night at about 8pm via telephone to report at the hospital for an emergency and she complied as usual, not knowing that her darling hubby was a targeted prey.

     “You were lonely…?” Emeka verified, still lying in his bed.

     The fair, slim, and about 5.1 feet tall Nneka nodded calmly.

     Her sparingly transparent night dress was showcasing her nude boobs coupled with her white panties thereby making her seemed irresistible.

     “Was that why you couldn’t even knock at the door?” He queried, though in a friendly tone. Kept his head upright with the support of his left arm.

     “I’m very sorry, Sir.” She said, gushed out tears and attempted to leave the room having kept the door open.

     Emeka was moved by the deceptive tears. “Hold on, hold on.” He urged, stood up from the bed.

     She stood still, held the partially opened door with her right hand.

     “Come.” He enjoined passionately, sitting on the bed.

     She quickly closed the door and walked pitiably to him with tears on her face.

     “Sit down.” He requested soberly.

     She complied.

     He asked her to wipe out her tears and she heeded the advice.

     They were seated on the bed about two centimetres apart from each other.

     “What’s wrong with you,” Emeka inquired. “Is there anything you’re not telling me?”

     The 24-year-old Nneka quickly looked into his eyes romantically. “I fell in love with you the very first day I set my eyes on you.” She disclosed vocally.

     The 37-year-old Emeka who became dumbfounded and depressed, frowned at her, stood up.

    There was a moment of silence 

    “Are you out of your mind?” He ranted. “Are you insane?”

    She stood up and joined him, holding his waist with her arms. Her booms were stylishly touching his bare chest. “I’m so sorry,” she dished out. “Just that I couldn’t hide my feelings anymore.”

    The chocolate, plump and about 5.4 feet tall young man couldn’t resist the unpredicted tender touch and lyrics; she was already all over him. Every dick and harry in him was feeling the unimagined warmth sensation, and of course his ancient driller was therein seemingly on her going by its renewed posture; it seemed her sinister motive had been actualized. Apparently, there was no need for a prolonged preliminary since every needed instrument was within their reach. In view of this fact, in less than ten minutes time, the deed had been done.

     Immediately after the unscheduled tango, they concurrently but coincidently took a glance at the clock hung on the wall – it was 11:45pm. Adaku had called to inform them the moment she got to the hospital that she may be back at the midnight.

     Could it be real? Did it really happen? Those were the thoughts expected to be running through Emeka’s medulla oblongata as he lied in his bed watched Nneka depart for her alleged lonely room.

     On the other hand; who knows, would she feel lonely again as she earlier claimed, or had the loneliness been quenched by Emeka’s rugged trustworthy driller? Any good observer who was privileged to observe the melodrama wouldn’t hesitate to ponder over this required inquiry.

     Who on earth would presume that Nneka, the renowned mouse-like and sanctimonious girl would attempt to seduce a bachelor let alone her brother-in-law. Anyone who knew her very well could swear that she was still a virgin. As the saying often goes, ‘the known devil is better than the unknown angel’; that was the most suitable clause for Nneka’s case.

     Four weeks on, Nneka who was really obsessed with Emeka deliberately conceived for him while Adaku was yet to be impregnated. She disclosed the latest development to the father of the unborn baby who frowned at her and persuaded her to get rid of the pregnancy but she refused.

     Emeka’s wife, Adaku who never knew that wonders were happening behind her or imagined any antics, was totally kept in the dark until the said pregnancy became conspicuous in two months time. When confronted, her kid sister disclosed to her unequivocally that her husband was the owner of the unborn child; the disclosure was tendered when her affluent husband was away to Dubai, United Arab Emirates, for one of his numerous business trips.

     Adaku who couldn’t wait to have her hubby’s presence to confront him with the accusation, felt like an electrocuted creature within the two days and nights that ushered in his return.

     Upon arrival, the awaited Emeka was issued the query. Surprisingly, contrary to his poor wife’s expectation, he never refuted the allegation, though it was admitted with the aid of an apologetic utterance.

     Adaku died shortly afterwards owing to the poison she took. She couldn’t bear the awful reality of the news relating to incest.

     But I repeat; could it be real? Think about it!

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