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Playing perfect

Hey people. Hope the weekend was good… I’m sure some will expect me to comment about this weekend but I’ve chosen not to. So, straight away to the Monday rush. I’m excited cause I’ll be introducing y’all to my first guest blogger today. (*inner child back flip*) Her name is Pemi. She’s a young writer and I’m very sure you’ll be seeing her around here a lot more from now on. We’ll definitely appreciate your feedback. Cheers.

Feb 14

Somewhere Not So Far Away

The weather alone should have told them it was going to be a horrible night. The sky was dark, clouds heavy with rain. The cold wind whirled around them consistently, as if urging them to turn around; ‘Gooo Hoooome’ the wind seemed to be hissing.

But they trudged on obstinately. It was the one day in the year when they actually tried to remember why they fell in love. Except New Year’s of course, but they usually got really drunk before any reasons came up. They were a very attractive couple; he was tall and broad where she was petite. She had her left hand through the crook of his arm while her right hand tried to prevent her full skirt from dancing around her head in the wind. He looked down at her pretty face and smiled; she glanced up at him and returned his smile.

‘Oh, why did she have to change?’ he thought to himself.

‘Oh, why can’t he just change?’ she thought to herself.

They finally stepped into La Rio de Janeiro. Raymond had been here earlier in the week for a ‘business date’ with Natasha. But Layo didn’t know that, of course. The place was crowded but he strode up to one of the waitresses dressed in black and white. At his tap, she turned around to face them with a very wide, red lipstick-ed smile. She had a matching red rose on her chest, the size of the rose and the amount of revealed cleavage competed for attention.

‘Damn, now that’s a feast for the eyes!’ Raymond forced his eyes back to her face. “We have a reservation. Raymond and Layo.” ‘I remember when Layo bothered to dress up for me’; he looked down at Layo and mentally added, ‘when it’s not Valentine’s day.’

The red waitress walked them over to their table and Layo watched Raymond watch her skimpy black skirt. “Honey, the place looks beautiful!” Layo said. ‘Though you haven’t noticed that. Why don’t you invite her to join us? Moron. I remember when you looked at me that way.’

When they were settled at their table and the red waitress and her tempting wiles out of sight; Raymond reached over to hold Layo’s hand. “So, do you like the ring?” ‘What choice do you have, it was bloody expensive! And Natasha picked it out, she has good taste.’

Layo smiled; “It’s beautiful. I absolutely adore it!” ‘You never listen to anything I say. I wanted a necklace. Besides, Dapo got me a similar thing, with matching earrings!’

“I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You’ve being staying late at the office these days.” Layo said. ‘You cheating idiot; you could come up with a better lie.’

“Trying to make money for us.” He forced a laugh. ‘Come home to what? You never let me touch you anymore! Ice queen!’

An hour and a half later; they were about ready to give up on their phony smiles and empty conversations. The red waitress had shown up far too many times than was necessary; reminding Raymond of the days Layo had fought for his attention and reminding Layo of the days Raymond had eyes for her only.

“Shit! It’s raining! And we’re packed down the street. We have to wait it out.”

‘Oh Lord, make it stop! I can’t take this anymore. If only he’d talk to me; I’m sure we could make this work. I could make him happy.’ Layo thought.

This bloody rain had better stop now. If only she understood me; this wouldn’t be happening! We could be so happy.’ Raymond thought.

Thunder clapped and the rain fell in torrents; leaving the estranged lovers staring at everything but themselves.

THE END>

For me, this is just typical of a lot of couples out there. Yes, A LOT. I’ll just never understand why people keep these feelings bottled-up inside. That being said, have you ever been a Raymond or are you Layo? Share your experiences or thoughts on why you’d rather only think than express yourself to your partner.

UPDATE: Thoughts are italized and boldened. Also, if you enjoyed this post, kindly hit the share on Facebook or Twitter button below. Thanks 🙂

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Him, my kitchen and I

Long working days and packed weekends have more or less become my life. I hardly notice the amount of stress I have built up in me. Don’t get me wrong, I can feel it, but just as easily as I can, I easily shove it aside and continue with my zombie routines – life of a banker.

Having Daniel in my life did make things easier. He was everything a woman could want. Well, everything except he was also a banker. And it is because of this our weekends have come to be something I couldn’t do without. Yes. Everything was good – the sex too and even though sometimes we were both too tired, just having him there – a comrade, a willing shoulder to lie on, made life easier. That was what I looked forward to that weekend as I opened up the doors to my apartment.

I walked straight towards the kitchen briefly catching the wall clock in my living room area. 9:24pm… I’m early. I gulped straight from the berry blast pack and just as I shut the door to the fridge, I heard it……..

Suddenly, I feel the need – to pull you close to me

He stood there, by the door. A boyish smile planted on his face and I couldn’t help but smile. Daniel can be so silly sometimes.

But I don’t know, if it’s what you want, baby

The voice of R.Kelly crooned from God knows where and Daniel walked towards me looking more serious

Girl show me some kind of sign

that tells me that you’re, miiiine, all mine, baby

Standing inches away from me now, I wondered what was going on. At that moment it was as if my body rebelled against me and I instantly began to feel all the stress that I had built up in my body – I gently dropped the Berry blast pack on the kitchen counter I was now leaning against.

It’s gettin awfully warm, off in this room

With one swift move, Daniel took off the white t-shirt to reveal his almost perfectly built body. With only dim rays of light straying into the kitchen from the window, he could have passed for Tyson Beckford at that moment.

I’m gettin head up off yo’ sweet perfume

I felt his freshly shaved skin as he gently whiffed the smell of my perfume on the right side of my neck..

and I’m ready, to explore, every part of you

He switched over to the the left side of my neck and then I felt his hands as he traced the shape of my body all the way to the end of my skirt briefly touching the intercession of my thighs with my knee..

Girl I’ll take my clothes off first, then now you

Daniel moved his hands towards my neck and one after the other, I felt my buttons give way…. there goes Victoria’s Secret….

Ooooooooooo-oo-ooo-oo-ooo-oo-ooo-oo-ooo baby

Baby.. tonight we’ll be, naked

He turned me around and leaned me against the kitchen sink as he took off my skirt… He paused as his hand slid down my red lingerie …

Oooooooh, oooooooh, oooooooh, ooooooooh

hmmm… “Red….” He whispered.

I’ll take a stroll through your garden of love

and show you so so much

His (now warm) hands traced my body with his fingers telling a story as they brushed past the freshly cut lawn…

Just take my hand, and believe, in our fu-ture

Gettin you open like matchin doors

He stretched out my left hand – my palm against his as if to distract me as he pulled apart my legs with his other hand…

Sheets and covers on, the floor

He shoved aside some stray dishes I had by my sink and seconds later I felt the cold surface of the aluminum against my butt cheeks…

And if the bell should ring, we won’t answer

I squirmed as I felt his lips against my neck narrating his soliloquy – He chuckled.

Girl I’ll take my clothes off first, and now you

Wanna tell, what I want from you

I gasped, “Take me…please…”

He looked me in my eyes, “Please, who?”

I smiled….

Shaking his head, he repeated the question: “Please, who?”

“Daniel,” I whispered. “Daniel…”

Baby tonight I wanna see you naked……..

 

FIN.

Ok, so you’ll notice I’ve introduced a new category – Wet Fridays and lo and behold, the heavens have blessed us with rain here in Lagos today. I’m a big fan of music (I’m sure y’all know now), I’m also a fan of breaking rules (well, going against the norm). When was the last time you tried doing this in your relationship? Share your experience or let us know why you’d never get frisky on your kitchen counter. Cheers.

 

 

 

 

TF(or)A: The two out of three theory

Two out of three theory. Some of y’all are wondering what the hell that is. Well, just as it is, two out of three, thats all a woman needs to meet the “I’ll bed you/I’ll wife you” criteria for most guys. You might have heard guys talking about TAF, TFA or FAT – yes? no? Well, T = Tits, F = Face, A = Ass.

This theory (common among the male folk) that most guys will bed (or wife, depending on your type of person) a chic once she can meet two of the three requirements stated above, has become almost absolutely adopted (consciously or unconsciously) by guys. Yes, it’s no lie that the average male is a very visual creature. He makes choices based on what he sees as opposed to the females but the general idea that it takes meeting only two out of these “very physical” criteria to bed a woman makes me wonder how much our value system has eroded in this generation.

I mean, whatever happened to a decent personality? Does that not come handy even while in the sack? A lot of guys are probably going like HOW? – It’s not as if you give two hoots about her smiling at you or laying your sheets after a roll in the hay (that freaks a lot of guys out by the way)

Women who often see “no-so-good-looking” women with very good looking men will easily pass this off as the height of Male chauvinism but it’s simply the 2/3 theory and to get by, I’ll advice you start taking it seriously.

Ok, so I won’t go ahead and say all men have adopted this theory. I mean, I’ve dealt with a few 1/3 in my short life (mostly having a cute face with little or no T & A) but maybe that’s just due to my open minded nature but then again, I’m very positive that I’m not alone here. I’ve seen other brothers walking along the street proudly holding on to their 1/3 chic (even though she might be making up for this in other ways), the general excuse for this would probably be “she must have a great personality” but did I hear the guys go roooooooight?

For me, it will have to come to 3/4. You just can’t knock out a great personality even if its for something very casual (insert/delete one-night-stands depending on your person). If I find you boring, overtly sarcastic, condescending or insensitive as a person, no matter how hawt you look (T,F & A), well, it won’t be impossible (*cough *cough) but it’ll just be harder to bring myself to ‘just’ bed you.

So it’s time to speak your mind. To the guys out there, do you support the 2/3 theory or you’d rather have all three? And for the ladies, what’s your take on all of this, if y’all have the 10/3 theory, do you think it’s right for us to adopt the 2/3 theory? Have your say.

 

Miss 3 looking for Mr. 10.

Hey guys. Glad to be back here after a sweet break that led up to a very interesting weekend (s/o to my Abuja crew). So I’m back and I’m mad. Yes, I’m angry. Today, I’m going to be talking briefly (cause I’d like to hear more from you guys) about something that has always gotten on my nerves.

Its what I call the 10/3 theory. Having as many female friends and acquaintances as I do, I get to sit in on their discussions from time to time and it never fails to get to me when I hear women dish out their requirements for guys who should even consider making a pass at them. (I’m not leaving out guys from this theory; I’ll be doing a second part, which focuses on us).

• Tall (with specific height)

• Dark (They will even ahead to specify a particular tone of dark)

• Sense of humour (I’m sure if there was a scale for measuring this, they’d include values)

e.t.c. ……..

Now, I just highlighted a few, we all know how long this list can get. Now, I have no issues with this. Everyone should have specific things they look of for in the opposite sex. My issue is what you base your choices for the components of this list on. Life is sometimes not fair, I mean, I still will never understand how or why Heidi ended up with Uncle Seal… but yes, it’s life, there are exceptions but that shouldn’t form the reason why you look like this:

And you want a man like this:

Like, caaammmmaaannn. In the words of one of my blogger mentors: “Most of the people in the world are not extremely attractive. If that were the case, there wouldn’t be any ugly babies and a limited need for plastic surgery.” Yes, I strongly agree with this statement. I’m a decent looking young man and that’s it. I have flaws but I spend a great deal of my time trying hard to correct the ones I know I can. Why? Well, firstly for myself and then, because I have a goal. I know what I want from the opposite sex and I know what I have to do to get it.

Too many times, I’ve seen an extremely good looking dude end up with a erm… not-so-good-looking chic and everyone around talks about how she must have “the good-good” or how she’s a vixen in bed and that’s how she must be keeping him. Well, she might be all of that and even more but if he’s rubbish, then they are rubbish and this here is another myth I hope to deal with in another post.

Now, I’m not saying all of this because I’m bitter or whatever. All I’m just asking for is just a little bit of fairness from our females when they’re putting together their almighty list. And if you choose not to be fair, then please put in some visible effort. Cut the carbs and hit the gym 4 times a week. Shave those legs. Wax. Wax. Wax. Watch a lil more CNN and less Africa Magic. Then you can reach that stage where you’re like this guy:

Who wants someone like:

Ahem. Well, well, I’m still far off (ok, very far off) but you get my point. Have you also noticed this and you feel strongly about it? Go ahead; state your case in the comment box below… cheers.

Lyrical Cards

Hey good people. It’s that day of the year again and this year, I’ve promised to keep my opinions about Valentines day to myself. Instead, I’ve thought up a way for all of us to have fun with the day. Whatever your views are about the day, positive, negative, I’m sure you wont mind having a lil bit of fun.

Last year, I came up with some amazing graphic posters that best described love (I’ll probably put those up later). This year, I’m hoping we can all take a step out of the usual and express the things we really really want to say. I’ll dug up some lyrical cards that well, say things a lot of us would like to really say to our erm …”valentines” gosh, I hate that word

Anyways, there are three cards below, you can right click on he images and save them to your desktops or phones and then send it to that “special” person. For those who follow me on twitter (@thetoolsman), I’ll be twitpic-ing the cards and you can just re-tweet and copy with the name of the follower you’d like to send it to.

There are no rules by the way, you can send as many cards as possible to as many people. For twitter folks though, maybe someone can come up with some nice hash tag (I couldn’t come up with any). So, there you go… Enjoy the day and whatever you do, please please try to put some genuine effort into it. Cheers.

PS: We shall get to the post A-Zed finale discussions sometimes later this week.

 

 

I love it when you call me big papa

I like big butts

Bad, bad, bad boy

Lick me like a lollipop

Oh, me so horny

Let's talk about sex, baby

My Name is A-Zed: Episode 13 (Season Finale)

The footsteps coming towards the door brought me back to the room. I couldn’t process all the things Kassy had just told me. It all sounded too surreal. Like she was making it up. But she couldn’t have thought all of that up just then. Princess was nothing like she had described. I strongly doubted she had killed Tomi. Princess was too kind. I couldn’t understand it and how I had anything to do with this mess. I just wanted to leave, I wanted to get back to my life as it was before …. before I met Kassy and as the door to our holding room opened, I hoped in my heart that our abductors had realized their mistake and had come to set me free.

Two men walked into the room and without saying a word, they grabbed Kassy and I and marched us out of the room. As we walked, Kassy looked at me and whispered, “I’m sorry Azeez” in a barely audible and very defeated voice. I didn’t acknowledge her even though a part of me felt she was really trying to reach me. I drew my attention to where we were. I was blindfolded when they brought me here so I couldn’t make out much but now I saw we were walking down a long lobby. Initially I thought it was a hotel but as we walked past a couple of portraits hanging on the wall, I realized it was probably a private residence. I didn’t recognize the people in the portrait. One was that of an elderly woman – late sixties and the other, a pretty young lady – probably in her thirties. I couldn’t make out the faces even though they looked familiar and the fact that I was even thinking about them when I was being marched off to God-knows-where amused me.

We got out of the lobby and walked down a short flight of stairs. We went past more pictures and even a mantle, which had awards and pictures of other family members and then we finally stopped outside a huge arch door, which had two hefty men standing on either side of it. Both men standing by the door had absolutely no expression on their faces. They were both obviously armed and even had one of those CIA-type earpieces on. Naturally, anyone who got to experience this kind of thing would feel some form of fear, excitement or adrenalin rush, as this was only the kind of thing we got to watch in movies. I felt neither. I guess I was too chocked to feel anything. I took another look at Kassy and seeing her head bowed told her story. She was resigned to whatever faith she had.

After what seemed like hours, one of the hefty guards pushed open one side of the arch doors and Kassy and I were walked into a huge living room area. It looked like something out of the pages of a magazine. I didn’t need to look up before flashes of gold fittings caught my eyes. The floor we walked on felt so soft and relaxed – that was because we were walking on a rug piece I can’t even begin to describe. Grand piano, chandelier, in-door fountain… I could go on. We were definitely in some kind of palace – it had to be.

And who are they?

The words brought me back to reality. I hadn’t even bothered to look ahead of us to where we were being walked. I looked up then and for the first time since my abduction, I felt a huge wave of fear run through my body. In front of us were eight men; two other hefty guards and one young lady. I identified most of them instantly and so did Kassy. I could tell by the way she reacted. Some of the men also knew who we were and even though they didn’t voice this immediately, you could tell from their reaction as well.

The man who had spoken earlier looked round the room and then focused on a young man – probably in his early forties, dressed in a perfect while linen traditional attire, standing not so far away from the seated man who had asked the question.

Junior? Talk to me.

I looked at her just then. She was the only one female amongst them and she was standing beside the man in the white attire. A smile grew on her face as “Junior” began to speak.

Your Excellency. It’s just as I’ve told you. It’s sad but the traitors in our midst are people you’ve considered allies for a long time. But it’s even more disturbing knowing that MY FATHER is one of them.

He seemed to stress the words “MY FATHER” and as he did so, Chief (Otunba has Kassy had referred to him) jumped off from his seat and began to rain abuses in Yoruba on Junior. Senior, who had also been standing behind them, walked up to him, with one hand on a pistol which he had tucked into his trousers and merely gestured to Otunba to sit down and he did.

I noticed Chief George, who was seated right beside Otunba, shifting inconveniently in his seat. Junior continued speaking:

Their plan was simple. Chief here, offered his daughter to my father who was in charge of providing girls for entertainment during our gatherings. She and her partner there, together with their fake contractor – he said, pointing to Kassy and I, were instructed to take pictures of you and them in indiscreet positions using hidden cameras at the Lekki three house.

What?

The man who had been seated asking the questions snapped and moved forward whilst still seated. It was then I saw him clearly. The President himself. I could not bring myself to process what was going on. I tried not to think too much. I couldn’t even think, as I didn’t know where to begin. It wasn’t just me. I noticed the change in Princess’ countenance as she processed what Junior had just said. She took a couple of steps away from where she had been standing beside him and the look on her face was that of a person who was unimaginably shocked and confused.

That isn’t all your Excellency. Both women have been confirmed to be HIV positive.

HA! Exclaimed the president. Otunba! Chief! But what have I done. This is how you wanted to kill me just like that.

Chief George remained quiet in his seat while Otunba sprang up once again to defend himself but he almost instantly sat again when he noticed Senior reaching for his gun.

And just then, he spoke for the first time. All this while, even after we walked into the room, he had just sat there staring, listening. He had not even moved or mad to talk once but now he spoke. Uncle Mufu simply gestured towards the president and said:

Johnny, calm down. Let us take it easy.

I will not take it easy Mufutao. I WILL NOT. Can you imagine these… these traitors. Acting like they are enemies in public meanwhile all they’ve been trying to do is … is…is spoil what we have spent so much and so long building. Just imagine what would have gone wrong if these .. these riff raffs had succeeded.

At that point in time, I felt an anger I had never felt before. I didn’t even understand how I had come to be involved in this mess and here I stood listening to a man I had so much respect for calling me what I wasn’t. I couldn’t understand a lot of things and I had a million questions but I just wanted this to end. I wanted to get out of the room and maybe then I could harass Uncle Mufu for some answers.

Just then, Junior produced a brown envelop out of nowhere and pulled out some pictures from and some sheets of papers from it.

Here, your excellency, the pictures and the HIV Test results.

He said as he handed the documents to the president. Even before he examined the contents, the look on his face told the story he was telling in his mind. He was disgusted.

Seconds later, he rose to his feet, took a good look at Chief and Otunba and then turned to Junior. He walked up to Junior, patted him on the shoulder and said: Good job. He then turned towards Uncle Mufu and said.

Mufutao, I need this mess cleared up immediately. You know what to do to those two and please dispose of them and the evidence. He said as he stormed out of the room.

By them, he was referring to I, Princess and Kassy and as he walked away, I watched to see what would happen. I didn’t have to wait too long. It happened too fast. The moment the door shut behind the president. Otunba grabbed Senior’s gun and shot at his son…

It’s all your fault he yelled as he fired the gun.. and then, he looked at Princess.

I watched him closely and I can’t explain what happened next. It came out of nowhere. I found my legs moving faster than my mind. Senior moved to stop Otunba, I moved to push Princess and in the corner, I could also see Uncle Mufu moving towards Otunba.

I felt cold all over. I held the side of my stomach as the blood gushed out uncontrollably. Senior had tackled Otunba to the floor but only after he had shot Junior and I. Uncle Mufu was slowly walking towards me even as the room began to blur out. The last thing I heard was from Uncle Mufu:

Ha! Otunba, o ti pa mi lomo. (Ha, Otunba, you have killed my son).

THE END

TO GOD BE THE GLORY

Credits:

Azeez (A-Zed)

Princess –

Kassy

Uncle Mufu

Debby

Dare

Tobi

Fadeke

Otunba

Chief George

Tomi

Senior

Balogun

Usman

Prostitutes

Mallams

Baba Ibidun

***********************#*************************

Better take some time off and go and visit her in Cameroun. It’s not as if you have anything you’re doing here.

So she can rape me to death (I said laughing).

And how is that a bad thing ehn Azeez. Better don’t dull.

With that he got out of the cab and closed the door. He looked extra dressy today. That was probably because of the date he had later on tonight. Tobi was quite the charmer and I bless the day I called him after all the drama. You’d never know he had anything to do with helping get this cab. He still pays me every time I take him anywhere. It was a hard decision to leave Uncle Mufu – my father, Princess and all the comfort they could provide me behind, but it was the right decision and one I had so far not regretted. As I drove off I took another look at Tobi and knew everything would turn out well.

Who’s your alter?

Hey people. Good weekend? Yes? No? Ok, maybe we should just skip that. Interesting week ahead though – last episode of A-Zed (yeah, kinda sad) but hey, it’s been one hell of a ride. More on that later.
Today, I want to talk about something most of us probably do. Some consciously, others, well, unconsciously. If I were to ask most of us if we had an alter ego, a lot of you would probably respond and say no. Ok, a little test then, put forward your phones – blackberries preferably (sorry if you use any other product) and lets go through your chats. Chances are, we’ll probably have some chats that look like these:

Chat 1
He: So, what service did you attend yesterday?
She: Second service.
He: Pastor was so on point with that message, I felt like he was talking to me
She: I felt the same way. God has really blessed that man…

Chat 2
He: One look at your dp and all I think about is Friday…
She: *coversface*
He: lol.. I can’t wait to eat you up again
She: oh, stop it, I’m at work now..
He: Hmm…. you’re wearing a skirt aren’t you? How short is it?
She: Oh, behave…

Chat 3
He: Was just thinking about you…
She: I miss you so much.
He: Got plans tonight?
She: 🙂 No, any ideas?
He: Well, do you still have that whip you got for Halloween?
She: *evil grin* Do you still have your cuffs?

Three chats – same person? Well, yes, it’s his phone but all those chats going on simultaneously and he claims he doesn’t have an alter?  A lot of arguments can come up here but I will save those for the comments. Maybe having “alters” isn’t exactly the right way to couch this but what I’m particular about is the fact that most people are in fact guilty of this. So lets hear your thoughts, first, are you guilty?  And then, do you think it’s something you do unconsciously or otherwise. Speak your mind.

My name is A-Zed:Episode 12

It sounded distant at first. The now familiar sounds of footsteps moving closer and closer. This time though, it was louder. Probably more people. Maybe they’ve finally come to take me away, maybe they’ve found the right ritual to use me for or the right slave camp to sell me to. Slave? What was I thinking, I was finally losing it and for good reason too. For what seemed like endless days I had been moved up, down, pushed around from one vehicle to another till I finally got to my current position with absolutely no idea of where I was. I had been blindfolded from the moment they threw me into the back seat of that jeep. It must have been days since then.

My kidnappers – no, I doubt that I have been kidnapped, for what? what? who could possibly pay any ransom placed on me. I sat on the floor in the darkness, eyes still blindfolded thinking, wondering, asking questions I had no answers to. I initially tried yelling, screaming out for help with the hope that someone, somewhere around could come to my aid. But it seemed my abductors couldn’t careless; once the door to the room I was being held was shut, that was it. They kept me well fed though. For kidnappers or whatever they were, the quality of food they fed me was surprising. Almost as if this was a twisted kind of fattening room. As if I was being buttered up for a special event. A special day.

A special day like this one perhaps. When I heard those footsteps coming towards me, my heart began beating faster. I thought the time had come for me to meet my faith. As I said yet another silent prayer underneath my breath, thoughts of people – loved ones – Fadeke, Uncle Mufu and even Princess flashed past my eyes. I had replayed the events of that night over and over again and I was so sure the kidnappers were out to get Princess. I prayed they didn’t get her. Just then the door opened and I heard the sounds of feet shuffling. The kidnappers never said much, if anything at all – probably some kind of training. And then, it flickered – lights? Behind my blindfold, I could tell that they turned on the lights. It instantly made me more conscious of my surrounding. As I was trying to adjust to this new condition, I heard a scream and a loud thud. It sounded as if someone was being shoved against a wall – someone female.

Moments later, the footsteps of my abductors faded away and they were replaced by the silent sobs of my new co-occupant. I tried to listen, hoping the sounds weren’t familiar, hoping it wasn’t Princess and then…

A-Zed….

ehn……

Who is that… who are you…

But I knew who it was. Oh no. If they got Kassy then chances are, they got Princess too…

Where is Princess? How did they get you?

Her sobs began to reduce and I heard as she began walking towards me. I could almost make out Kassy’s figure as she stood before me and began untying my blindfold. The blindfold came off and as my eyes fluttered trying to get used to the light, I felt Kassy checking my bound hands trying to see if she could untie them too but as I knew I had handcuffs on, there was certainly no hope. The men had put them in hours before they brought in Kassy. My eyes cleared up and I looked at Kassy, she looked ok, safe for her slightly ripped top. That must have been from her struggling with the men. She looked sad and defeated – like a prisoner sentenced to death. Maybe that was what we were. Sitting cows waiting to be slaughtered. But I didn’t want to think about that. I still had too many questions floating uncontrollably around my head; maybe Kassy could answer some of them.

Before I said anything, Kassy walked to my side and more or less slumped to the floor sitting right beside me. I had never seen her so defeated – not even when I said no to her offer of running away with her.

Kassy what is going on. Did they get Princess too? Is she ok?

Kassy’s response was a mixture of wild laughter and loud tears, which vanished almost as immediately as it started. Was she ok? Had they injected her with something or what was wrong with her, I thought to myself.

Isn’t life just a funny bitch? She said as I turned to look at her.

If only you had said yes. If only…..

What are you talking about Kassy…

I’M TALKING ABOUT OUR FUCKING ESCAPE – our escape from all of this. And why do you ask me about Princess – Why? She said, yelling.

What are you talking about, both of you got into Seniors car – that was….

So it’s always been her – not your little girlfriend. It’s her isn’t it? She said as she looked me straight in the eyes.

What are you … are you ok Kassy?

Kassy then broke out into another bout of sobs – tears and a lot of crying. She was inconsolable. Nothing I said got her attention. I sat there beside her, watching tear drops fall from her wide eyes and concluded that she must have been drugged or something. This wasn’t the Kassy I knew.

I told her…. I told her it would go wrong… Kassy started saying, then she looked at me, shook her head and said:

I’m so sorry Azeez. Princess isn’t who you think she is…she’s not…..

What? Who is she….

Kassy took a deep breath and….

It started months ago. Princess was just like the rest of us – we weren’t prostitutes or call girls like some referred to themselves. We merely had Aristos – wealthy older men who took good care of us. Despite being a daughter of the famous Chief George, Princess wasn’t directly a beneficiary of his wealth. She lived with her mother who was a simple woman but Princess longed to be identified with her fathers wealth. When some girls and I moved into her room in Moremi as part of our plans to act as students, it was as if that was all she had been waiting for. Her curiosity got the better part of her. She wanted the clothes, the jewelry, the cars.. We became friends and in no time, she became a member of the crew. All the other girls hated her. It was more like jealousy – Princess used all her assets to get what she wanted and in no time, she was far better off than some of the other girls that had been in the crew for years.

I straightened my body as I continued listening to Kassy…

Then sometime early last year, a friend got us a gig as escort girls for politicians during a huge party meeting somewhere in Gombe. Princess was reluctant but I made her go. We were drafted to rooms and someway somehow, when Princesses’ mark walked into her room, it turned out to be her father.

Kassy paused and turned to look at me…

That was when everything changed. Princess disappeared for a while, only for her to return as a true Princess. She had moved in with her father, had a brand new car to herself and moved to a house in High Rise. We all thought her Daddy had finally decided to be a part of her life and she would no longer roll with us. We were wrong. Princess selected a handful of us and formed a new crew. She got invites and passes to high-end parties and events. The prices were higher per girl and some even came in foreign currencies. When I asked, she simply told me she was thriving on her Dads connections, that was until Otunba’s incident..

Otunba?

Otunba Adebayo…. His guards almost killed you and Princess in that swamp..

Oh.. Chief?

I was supposed to work with Princess that day but I had to travel to Cameroun – my mother died the night before………. I recommended some girls to Princess. She didn’t give me details – not until it all went wrong….

Princesses’ Dad and Otunba belong to the same party but it’s no secret where their allegiances lie. While Otunba is a strong supporter of the present government, Chief George supports his opposition within the party and was hell bent on ensuring Mallam Abubakar winning his party’s primaries. When Princess walked into his hotel room in Gombe that day, instead of dirt, he saw opportunity.

What do you mean? His own daughter?

What was the best way to infiltrate the enemies’ camp? A traitor. Princess was already selling her body, Chief thought she could as well sell it for the right price and in the process, help her father gain some dirt to use against his political enemy. Chief could get Princess everywhere and anywhere – especially his party events as long as she posed as an escort girl and had a controller – that’s where you came in.

I sat up just then. What? Was this all true or was Kassy reacting to whatever drug it is they must have given her and making all of this up? I continued listening…..

Once she could get to Otunba and get something incriminating enough to use against him, they could make him sway his delegates at the convention to vote for Mallam Abubakar. Princess had been seeing Otunba for a while before he eventually invited her over to his house. The girls I sent to her were to pose as distraction while Princess got whatever it was she needed but one of the inexperienced girls was way too greedy and ended up stealing some money and even some drugs from Otunba. Princess lost all the trust she had built up with Otunba and he ordered his boys to have both of you killed.

Zino….

Yes. That near-death experience shook Princess but she still did not wake up from her foolishness to realize just how much her father had been using her. He told us to both fake HIV test results and introduced us to Senior who got us into the party at Abeokuta and consequently gave us another opportunity at nailing Otunba.

Wait wait wat…. fake HIV test results? It’s fake?

Yes, a former customer of mine who works at Wellington Hospital got them done for us. We needed somewhere credible….

But for what? What were you going to do with…

It didn’t matter. After the incident at Otunbas house, Princess thought it was all over as there was no way Otunba could find out she was still alive but Chief pushed us, using Senior, to go to the Abeokuta party. He needed Otunba to trust Princess again and his plan was simple. Princess was to save his life from an assassination attack – a planned assassination attack.

Tomi?

Debola almost ruined our plans when she cancelled on us hours before the party and Princess was skeptical about using inexperienced girls. But she had no option but to change her mind when her father wouldn’t budge. Tomi was young, impressionable and eager to please. It wasn’t hard to set her up to look like she wanted to poison Otunba and who was there to save the day? Princess. Otunba made her fire the shots herself. The sick bastard …

I watched as Kassy’s face tensed up and I tried to imagine the party at Abeokuta. While I was with Senior and Balogun, Princess was firing shots at Tomi – and that could have been Debola. I prayed secretly in my heart then that Kassy was making all this up. It was all too much to take in at once.

It was at that point Junior came into the picture….

Junior?

Otunba’s son.

But he’s also against his fathers political position isn’t he?

Yes he is. Still a member of the same party but he and his father are estranged because Otunba would not support his ambition to run in his states governorship elections. Princess met Junior on one of her numerous visit to Otunba’s house and he offered her a way out. A way to pay back her father for all the wrongs he’s made her do and also help him get to his father. It was suicidal but if we could pull it off – it meant vengeance for Princess and a lot of money for me.

And what was that?

Junior wanted us to leave out Chief and Otunba and strike the top itself.

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