Toto Series: Do you have a problem with it?

Toto Series - That's your problem

Toto Series - That's your problem Part II

This is a sequel to That’s Your Problem which can be accessed for free on our profile.

I was put up at the Continental. That was where the ceremony was to take place. Tim's friends from out of town were also going to be lodged there when they came in. His best man who had just returned from the UK was also lodged but I avoided him. Angela had asked me to tone down the Gothic.

"This is Nigeria abeg. I can't have my maid of honour looking like the man I'm saying I do to."

"Is that your fear? That you want to say I do to me instead?"

"But you are not my Man, na? With your chest that is competing with my own?."

"wanna touch?"

"Go away! I'm serious. Please try and be more ladylike. The wedding is attracting unnecessary attention and our families are being scrutinised like lab rats or Something. It's insane and I don't want to give these jobless bloggers lunch money. Abeg for my sake."

"sure. Anything for you."

And so I bought dresses, heels and wigs for my stay at the Continental. I attended family luncheons, followed her for fittings and cake tasting and all the unnecessary things intending couples piled on their to-do list before signing their life away. She'd asked and I was willing to play the part.

Tim's father was a shrewd businessman who made his fortune after the Nigerian Civil war. He had oil wells as well as shares in banks and other places only mentioned in whispers. Tim was raised to take over the empire. He was an honour student at Harvard before heading to the Robert Kennedy College in Zurich. He carried himself well. He was kind and decent, with impeccable fashion sense. He had introduced me to Kunle his best man who everybody agreed was the most eligible bachelor in Nigeria. I didn't like him nor did I pretend to. That didn't stop him from trying though. Poor guy.

Before the lockdown was announced, Tim came to the Continental. I'd finished a particularly rewarding massage session with the lady with the softest hands. After she "de knotted" my muscles, she was more than grateful for her outpouring. Nigerian women are always shocked at how much fluids I can draw from them. Change your boyfriends' dears. This particular one soaked Her massage bench through and through.

He said he dropped by on Angela's orders and asked if he could come in. I invited him up and replaced my robe for yoga pants and a matching tank top to come off as more girly. His aura was powerful. As soon as he stepped into the room, he filled it up. Not in an intrusive way, but still potent. He sat on the couch and handed me a gift box complete with a dusty blue bow.

"I hope it isn't another dress"

"Well... Angel says you can't have too many dresses, so... "

I shook my head while he smiled. It was indeed another dress and a long wig with deep full waves.

"She knows I'm not wearing this!"

The dress was too glittery, a sharp rose gold sequinned dress with straps at the back. the hair looked full and in Lagos heat? Hell no!

“She ordered me to order you to wear it"

"You can't be serious!"

Of course, he was. So like Angela to pull off a stunt like this. They were having one of those dinner meetings to discuss the guestlist for the ceremony. Angela came from a professional political family starting with her great grandmother who worked closely with Awolowo when he was Premier of the old western region. Her father was running for governor, and this alliance served both parents well.

These dinners were nothing but political meetings. After a few photographs and old reused jokes, the "men" excused themselves and entered into closed-door meetings that never ended. This was the third dinner to talk about the guest list.

"No offence, but I can't stand these dinners! The only good thing about them is the food and I can't even indulge because your fiancé keeps forcing me into these unholy contraptions she calls dresses!"

Just like his aura, his laughter filled the room drawing me in. I was laughing too.

"You are the first woman I know to call a dress an unholy contraption. Don't tell anybody, but I also hate these dinners. But I love Angela and I'd go through a thousand more as long as it makes her happy."

"You and me"

I said without thinking. He arched his eyebrow but I didn't fill up the growing silence. I didn't try to persuade him one way or the other. He could make of it what he wanted. The silence stretched on and with it an unspoken appreciation. The knowledge that we both loved the same woman and we were both willing to give up everything to please her.

"Thank you for doing this"

I smiled.

"The things we do for love" was all I could say. As I went into the room to change into my latest unholy contraption complete with matching heels, a clutch and a smile.

He offered his bent elbow and I held on as we made our way to his car. And just like that, the energy between us had shifted. In our love for Angela, we found a sort of kinship. At the end of the ride, he whispered into my ear and kissed my lips before dropping.

"Did you tell Tim we've fucked??"

"What? Well hello to you. I see you've hit the bar already?" Angela didn't look so chirpy this Evening. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail at the base of her neck. She was wearing a dusty pink sweetheart neckline gown with low box heeled sandals. She looked tired but like the soldier she is, she was keeping on. I didn't care.

“Answer my question. Did you... “

“... Is that why you dragged me here like this? And why would you think that?"

"Answer the fucking question dude, did you tell him we fucked?"

"Shhhh... Stop shouting, does it make sense for me to tell anybody?

"Think Angela, think. Maybe while he fucked your brains out, or maybe during a drunk episode. Did y'all compare notes? Was that what you did after ditching me in Melbourne ?"

I know I wasn't making any sense. I sounded mad even to my own ears but I couldn't help it. My chest was being squeezed by a blackened hand. Hard and unforgiving. She was the one who didn't want tongues wagging. She was the one who wanted me to play pretend so why would she tell anybody? much Less Tim?

She led me to her room to get away from the eyeballs we were beginning to attract.

"Edi, you need to calm down and stop shouting okay. This whole place is buzzing with journalists and everybody looking for a good story or something to use against my father and I can't have your loud mouth jeopardizing... Wait... Why do you even care if he knows or not?"

"FUCK you! Fuck you, Angela."

“Edi What is this about? Because I am sure as HELL know this isn't about what you're talking about. "


Why did I care truly? It wasn't that he knew. It was that he knew I was her lover and she STILL chose him over me. It was the way he casually delivered those words knowing their truth stung more than anything he could've thrown at me. He was the better man and no matter how hard I played pretend, I would never be good enough for her.

"It's about you sending me that text in May saying you couldn't do this anymore. No explanation, no room for me to understand why you'd up and leave. then tell me you hadn't been with another woman because what we shared was sacred. It’s about you lying in my bed soaked through by our lovemaking and you leaving the next day with a frigging note saying you couldn't do this anymore. It's about.... "

Her lips were dry and I could tell she had been biting on them. The wedding must bother her more than she let on. This was just like Angela. To kiss and fuck her way through me. She knew that I wouldn't be able to resist her. I couldn't all those years in Ekiti, I couldn't in Melbourne and now...

I bit her instead. She pulled away from me dazed! Good. I needed some distance between us. I needed to say what was on my mind and her pressing against me didn't give more room for thought.

"You fucking bit me???"

“ I know and I am sorry. Now listen...

"you fucking bit me, Edi!"

Then it registered. She wasn't angry, she was extra turned on. Before I could step back she was on me. Her hand holding my jaw while she crushed my lips with her bloodied lips. I tasted blood. Her blood and grapes and a tangy taste of dark ale. I felt the now-familiar current buzzing at the back of my head but I didn't move. I stood and let her.

She yanked at the straps of my dress until my breasts were hanging out. She was in a hurry, her hands grazed over my nipples down my dress meanwhile her other hand tried to keep my face firmly on hers while freeing her breasts. She was everywhere Trying to do too many things at once. she was making a mess. But I let her. I let her spread my legs which was surprising in the tight dress I'd squeezed myself into. She was back on my sore nipple from the chafing. I groaned which she took for a pleasure moan. her lips were on my neck, my face, leaving a wet trail.

Tim entered.

My heart swelled with pride at the sight of his utter shock. Well, Tim, who's got the girl now? Really? I looked at the frozen fear on Angela's face and felt like a pig. Looks like there is no winning Tim.

He walked out as quietly as he came.

Angela lunged at the door. Bare breasts and dishevelled hair. Running after him. What fuckery. I caught her before she was out of the room. She clawed and tried to squeeze through to get out.

"I'm finished"

"No, you're not. He knows better than to do anything crazy what with this place buzzing with paparazzi and his father's business associates."

How can you be so sure? Didn't you see the look on his face? My god! I'm finished! O my god.

And the way to "unfinish" yourself is to flash your boobs abi?


"Weren't you the one giving me a lecture on not creating a scene 10 minutes ago? Running after your fiancé half-naked is normal behaviour here abi ? "

How. Can. You. Be. This. Callous? My fiancé just caught me with you and you are this calm?

“As opposed to what? What do you want me to do? Turn hysterical and jump out the window? Besides, he's known about us So dust yourself off and let's go and eat.”

“Isn't that just grand? Durst yourself off let's go and eat like it is that simple? Do you know the magnitude of what we have done? Of what I have done? How can I face him? What have I gotten myself into? Do you think he will call off the wedding?”

“O please! Don't be silly. Tim loves you too much to call off the wedding. Is he pissed? Maybe a little but Y'all would be fine.”

“What am I going to do? “

“You can stay here and lament while I go down for a drink and some of the food. O by the way, what explanation should I give for your absence?”

Watching her unravel so easily at the thought of losing Tim was pissing me off. Angela had been turned into an incoherent mess and I hated it. Nobody, not even me should have such power over her. Here I was, me, Edidiong consoling her and assuring her of the love of Tim. I pushed my selfish desires along with my growing dislike for him and tried to salvage the situation. I ordered her into the bathroom to take a shower and called Tim.

He sat across from me looking straight into my eyes. He was pissed too I could see. Good. Pissed is good. When he dropped me, he'd told me I'd not be a part of his wife's life post marriage a "Your thing, whatever it is, is done and I'd very much love to have my wife all to myself".

"What do you want?"

"What we both want. Angela happy."

"If you think..."

"I think you should listen to what I have to say. Look. It's like you said. My time with her is done. She wants to be with you not me."

"I know that."

"Good. So don't jeopardize your happiness because of that episode earlier...

"That episode was my fiancée dry humping another woman with all of our family and friends under the same roof a week to our wedding.

The guts on you to sit there with that smug face telling me not to jeopardize my happiness. I should have you arrested and jailed if for nothing else to see how long that smug look will last."

"I am not going to apologize so don't expect it. And we can spend the whole day accusing and threatening each other but that's not going to help our little situation now would it? See, I'm only here till the wedding and I'd be out of Y'all lives for good. However, you need to decide if you love her and want to continue with the wedding plans or you can go downstairs and call it off."

"How do I know you won't try to make a move on her? What assurance do I have that, that little episode as you called it is the last of it?"

"You don't. But I won't."



So we all went downstairs and had dinner and they finally decided on the guest list that was basically everybody. Kunle was by my side playing the victim of double patriarchal standards. I endured it with a smile and champagne. The food as usual was delicious and the conversation boisterous.

Angela sat beside Tim who held her hand under the table. She was still quite shaken about earlier. Even with fresh new clothes and make-up she still looked out of her wits. She wasn't giggling and only spoke when spoken to. After the guests had left, she drew me aside to thank me for saving her. Her big brown eyes were shiny with unshod tears. I watched her talk and all I could think of was her clumsiness earlier. I should've kissed her back. I should've gone with the flow. Guiding her frantic energy with calm expertise. Now it was too late. I had given my word and even though I hated Tim’s guts, I always kept my word.

“Madam! Did you zone out or something? I said what time should I come to pick you?”

"For what?"

"The final fitting is Wednesday. I'd pick you and we would head to Tim's house so we can all go together. So, what time? Know what, never mind. I'd come by 8am so that we can beat traffic.

“You can go without me. I'd rather spend my day allowing Monica to work on my tense muscles."

“Say what?”


“You're here the whole of 3 seconds and you have a Monica?”

“And à host of others. Do you have a problem with that?”

“A host of... How could you do this to me?”

“How is this doing anything to you? I'd say this is the exact opposite of doing to you.”

“This is my wedding, you are my guest and you are in Nigeria. You know that's 14 years right?”

“second time Today I'm being threatened with arrest. First, it was your Tim and now you. What's this madness na? You are getting married and yet you're having a seizure a woman is going to be in my bed tonight. Wake up to the real world Angela. You can't eat your cake and have it.”

“Ladies... What cake are we talking about.”

Fruitcake. I answered. This was unbelievable. What exactly do women want? Angela is here throwing a fit at the thought of me with another woman yet she is the very same woman who almost ran through the house half-naked after Tim. Tim had come to "collect" his bride to be while Kunle was to drive me to the Continental.

“She's staying the night.”

“She is?”

“I am?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with it?”

The question was to Tim. I'd never heard the steel in her voice before but it was there, unmistakably heavy. Her words hung in the air for a while. Tim looked at me, nodded and kissed her cheek goodbye. I stood awkwardly at the door while he walked past. head held high, ego bruised.

"What the hell is wrong with you Angela? You know I am the last person to tell you how to treat people but did you have to dismiss him like that?"

“We needed the time to talk”

"Whatever it was, girl that man is about to be your husband and you sending him off like he's the help?!."

"Edidiong stop trying to deflect okay. This isn't about Tim and me, this is about you always having random women in your bed."

"I don't see how that is a problem or any business of yours. Besides you didn't have a problem being a part of the random women in my bed as I recall."

Twack! Twack! Twack!


This woman slapped me. I mean the slap itself didn't hurt as much as how I stood there. Not just once but three times. And it was even paced. Almost like she counted to three in-between and I stood there and took it all. Did Angela put anything in our drinks tonight that made us into her puppies or what? This was some bullshit and I was tired. I was tired of being in this dress, hair and shoes. I was tired of her family, judgy lot with their nose stuck in the air like disabled ostriches, I was tired!!!!

The buzzing undercurrent had grown to a ranging growl and that little episode earlier had let the beast loose but I knew we had to kill it before it consumed us and I ended in Kirikiri or worse.

"I'm out of here. Fuck you, Angela. Fuck you very much."

She was walking behind me while I hobbled through the dining room to the living room in those nasty heels id been standing in for the better part of the evening.

"I heard you that night. you thought I was asleep but I heard you."

I kept on walking. I didn't know what she was talking about but I didn't care. All I wanted was to be out of here before the waterworks started.


"In Melbourne, I heard you talking to Butch or whatever her name was."

One leg in front of the other, that's how you do it. Just keep walking. She is trying to bait you, don't fall for it. Dear Jesus don't let me start crying here, I'm almost at the door.

"That's fine. Walkout, run away as you have always done"

O hell no!

That's your forte dude. I never run from a fight.

“Isn't that what you are doing?”

“I am leaving before this place becomes a murder scene. I am leaving so whatever cooked up bullshit you have about the nastiness that is beneath that sunshine facade you put up is maintained.”

The doors were locked. Shit!

“If there is any nastiness in me, you put it there. My life was perfect before you came and ruined everything.”

"how about you open this door and watch me leave your life with all my nastiness. At least you won't have to continue pretending to be friends with poor folks."

We were both crying and screaming now and yet somehow nobody came running to witness our howling.

"O don't look shocked. Wasn't that what I was to you? That poor girl with the attitude problem you took upon your gracious self to elevate her status.

"That's not true. I loved you."

"You didn't love me. You loved how I fucked you alright. And as long as you got it, you were good."

"That's on you, not me. I tried to hang out with you but you wouldn't let me. In class, you acted like I didn't exist even when I sat beside you. I bought you stuff but you always rejected them or returned them."

“I wasn't a charity case.!”

"How was I to know my being rich offended you that much? Was my being rich also the reason why there were girls in your bed?"


"Don't what me. I went to your room to drop off your birthday gifts since I knew how you'd react if I gave them to you and I found a girl half-naked in your bed. And she wasn't the first. That's why I left".

“Dude. I lived in a frigging hostel. I shared a room with close to 8 girls on a good day and you assumed some random girl in my bed was my girlfriend? Are you serious?”

"What was I to believe? You only came around to fuck and leave. Not to mention how you were always rubbing all the attention you were getting in my face. I loved you and wanted to be with you but always pushed me away."

“Is that why you sent me that nasty text and blocked me?”

"Well, you didn't seem bothered."

“And Melbourne?”

"I told you. I heard you talking to that girl. You thought I was asleep but I saw you kiss her too. I wasn't going to stick around for round two."

"Boirj was my girlfriend. We were together for 7 months before you showed up. I broke things off with her as soon as you moved in. She was upset and came over for closure. I know it doesn't make any difference but she kissed me. I swear to you I never cheated on you. Never!"

She uncrossed her hands and walked to me until our nose touched.


I didn't realize I was holding my breath. How did we go from yelling to me being this breathless.?


Because I won't let you go ever again. Because if we cross this line,na Kirikiri get us. Because I will die if you ever leave me again. I cant was all the lump in my throat would allow.

"You can't or you won't?"

My whole being wanted to but let's be honest you are the one that walked away from me; twice. You are the one that is about to get married. You are the one that should be stopping us.

I can't do this.

Do this?

She kissed me. Lightly, slowly as if waiting for me to bite her. Instead, I parted my lips and allowed her access. As long as it wasn't me who made the first move, I figured I technically didn't break my word. She stopped.

Do you want this? Because I do. I want to kiss you and touch you and allow you to make nasty heart thumbing mad love to me. But only if you want it to.

Well, I'd be damned.

Yes, I very much want to.

There was an awkward 30 seconds before our lips touched. She leaned into the kiss. Pressing her lips against mine. I swallowed. I shivered with excitement and fear. We were kissing in her house and she and Tim had unkindly reminded me that this is Nigeria and I could end up in jail. Just me the daughter of a nobody while they would sail into the Nigerian version of sunset. Her tongue sought entrance and I obliged. There was no hurry to her movement and I matched her energy. I was wet and a finger up her crotch showed it was mutual. How I wish the mamba was here. The mamba was my 9 inches thickly veined black dildo complete with a customised strap. O yes, it will serve me well at this moment. I would love to draw throaty moans from her, fucking her inside out until she lay spent then do it again. Angela was an embodiment of passion and she never hid her pleasure. I peeled off her clothes and she mirrored me. We stood naked hearts beating in unison. This was actually happening. All the fights, the angry outbursts, the tears were culminating in our lovemaking. I knelt before her kissing from her belly button to the patch of hair. She held up my head obviously self-conscious she had allowed that much hair growth. I kissed her gently on the base of her waist to reassure her. I didn't mind. If she grew it, I'd become a cavewoman it was that simple. I kissed her slow but deeply. Tasting of her woman moist and engorged. Her body responded to every flicker of my tongue every suckle, every nibble. She began to quake but I wasn't ready to allow her to find release just yet. I let her fall on me and I gently laid her to the carpet. I laid on top of her and looked into her eyes. The fire was back where it belonged. Then she giggled and looked away.

“Do tell me, are you shy?”


Well, I'd be damned.

I kissed her neck, the base of her throat, the rise of her breasts, her nipples were already as hard as rocks when my lips found them. She moaned as I suckled on them. She rubbed on my clit and dug the fingers into my wet vagina. We were in no hurry. I sucked on her breasts and she drew hot liquid from my swollen clitoris. I positioned myself above her to ensure she got maximum pleasure and began to ride. She stopped me and ordered me to sit on the couch. I obliged and spread my thighs wide.

Whatever she was doing to my vagina I felt in my throat. Her tongue found all the nerve endings available and caressed them. While her tongue fucked my clitoris her fingers - index and middle fingers fucked my vagina. My orgasm hit quick and heavy. My body stretched out like I had been struck by a lightning bolt. My toes curled as my groan filled the room. She then climbed me and began to ride. I didn't know why but I began to cry. I buried my face in her neck and urged her on. Soon she had climaxed.

“What’s wrong”

“Fuck angela, what have we gotten ourselves into.”

“Are you regretting this?”

“Fuck no!”

"Good. Because I will just strangle you."

“Talking about death, where is everybody? I kept expecting your father or somebody to enter with a gun or a sword or something. All that noise and not a soul stirred?”

"This is my father's private section. It is soundproof. World war 3 can happen here and nobody will know." the way out is on the other side. I can't believe you still don't know your way around by now.

“Everything looks the same abeg.”


“I cant. You are getting married and my life is in Australia.”

"What if I don't get married would you stay?"

"And constantly look over my shoulder because of who I decide to love?"

"Then I will come with you."


"I'm not losing you ever again. You either stay or I go with you."


Isn't it funny that no matter what you are going through life is happening? Like you can be in the deepest of shits and someone is pissing the champagne they got drunk on celebrating all over you. Life is always happening.

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Toto Series: Undiluted Worship Pt. 2

by, published 9 months, 3 weeks ago

Undiluted worship shitoto series konji

I was still spread out for his viewing pleasure when a thought crossed my mind. We had talked before about the things we would like to do when we eventually meet. Of course at that time I didn't think our meeting was ever going to happen so I painted quite the picture of an explorer, to match him. Even though he was miles a way and there was no chance of us meeting, what he thought of me somehow mattered to me. I closed my legs, did my best pirouette and walked to the door. His eyes followed me. First with surprise and as what I was about to do dawned on him, a sly smile crossed his face.

Here we were in their family compound in Ikeja Lagos state. His great grand mother on his father's side, a princess and last surviving matriarch at 93 had died. It was celebration of life and every member of the family was mandated to come and pay their last respects. There was more celebration than mourning but it was still death that brought everyone together.

I flew in from Kano the night he arrived Nigeria. He came to the airport to carry me himself. When I approached where he was he looked me over as if to to confirm if the pictures we had shared over time was indeed mine. He was also checking to make sure I had complied with his directives. Wear a black Burqa with nothing underneath. "When I see you, I want your nipples straining through the fabric. " I had protested that because of the heavy nature of the garment there is no way my nipples would show even if they were granite. He consented and said I should wear a gold laced black kaftan instead before cutting the call. That shit is transparent ! How can I walk about the airport like that, and in Kano no less ??? You see these Americanas eh ! It's like as soon as the leave the shores of this country and their innit and yo'mehn enters they forget what happens back home. I had watched all three parts of fifty shades of grey so I didn't argue before he would use me to learn work.

I decided to fly the 6:30 PM flight and hoped that it would be dark in Lagos. My prayers were answered. The flight didn't depart Kano until 8 PM and on arrival I quickly went to the bathroom and changed used a shawl to wrap myself until I walked to where he was. So when he looked me over I could see satisfaction. In the car, he ordered me to spread my legs which I did. He brought out a small satchel, like the type men use to keep clippers and all. Inside he brought out a bullet looking thing. It was purple and felt cold to the touch. He placed it on my clitoris and it began to vibrate. He moved it up and down... Up and down.... Up and down. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. "open your eyes. We are in traffic, act normal." I looked at him in wonder. "do you care what people think or what ? " " I don't give a rats ass what they think, this is about me and you. If you make any sound, or close your eyes I'll stop, and you will pay for denying me my pleasure. And trust me, you don't want to make me mad. " I swallowed again. The words were said casually but I'd be a fool if I didn't believe every single word he spoke. I was tempted to tell him to stop there and then but I truly didn't want to get him mad. So I nodded and gestured for him to continue. The slight buzzing began and stimulation followed. I licked my lips and forced my eyes to stay open. I looked out at the other commuters, their faces partly obscured in the growing darkness. I tried to focus on the noise. Lagos go-slow is famous for the drama that always seems to happen. Yet somehow I didn't hear the blasting of horns and the expletives that always followed in Yoruba or pidgin. I didn't even feel the car's movements as his driver tried to maneuver through the chaos. He stopped and put back the gadget into his satchel and smiled at me. we are going to have so much fun you and me he beamed. We rode the rest of the journey in silence me in a puddle of my own making. That was yesterday night.

I walked over to his satchel and opened it. There were things I couldn't even describe inside, so I picked the one I was more familiar with. I have watched too many movies where handcuffs were used and since he is a fan of bondage I figured I could excite him enough to give me an orgasm. He was right behind me. Took the handcuffs and kissed my fingers. His eyes where ablaze. He led me to the closet and handcuffed my hands to one of the high cabinet handles. The feel of cold steel stole some of the warmth from my heart. He gently spread my legs, caressing my thighs, soothing me like a cat about to be put down. His satchel produced ropes he used to tie my legs each to a lower drawer on either side. I was spread wide and he stared in satisfaction.

Then he knelt under me.

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Toto Series: Vibes and Insha Allah

by, published 10 months, 3 weeks ago


"Why won't you look into me when we fuck?"

I was buckling my shoes when I heard him from the bed. I heard the slight shake in his voice. He was trying to pass this off as casual talk after a very thoroughly satisfying session but I knew better. I wanted to tell him the truth. He was just a random dick I enjoyed now and then, nothing more.

Instead, I climbed into the bed, still wet from our latest session and kissed him deep in the mouth. I teased the insides of his mouth, while giving him soft bites on his full, soft-like-marshmallows lips. He sighed as if in resignation, and matched me tease for tease. I came up for air. Kunle, knew the assignment. When it came to my body's needs, he understood the assignment.

"You make it so. How can I control myself when you get me fucked up. Literally!"

His lips parted in a full smile and I mirrored his. No need hurting his feelings. I needed him to be happy. A happy dick is a more than capable dick. I made a mental note to send him extra money as my driver drove me out of his premises.

Kunle and I met at a Christmas food drive. I had sponsored the drive for 70 widows. On the 20th of December, I got a call from my assistant that some of the volunteers were a no show. That was how I drove to the venue in my jeans and Tees to lend a hand.

He looked at me and I guess he tried to asses my level of importance and judged I was just another volunteer in the ranks. I played along while he tried to school me on the art of volunteering. "you see this gig? Don't stress too much. Just show up and smile. You already have your looks and body working in your favor. After the whole event make an endearing post on social media. This one has been paid for by an annoynmous person which means you can take credit. You sha have to do it codedly, that way you don't get into trouble.

He was a pro. He made sure everybody was coordinated. He took pictures, gave lectures, cracked jokes, pep talks, the whole works. By the time we arrived the point of departure, I was worn out, but fond of him. He collected my number and promised to call. I didn't think much of it, but was happy when he did call.

I was going through a messy divorce that had me flying to and fro the US and Nigeria. His calls always served as salve to my frayed nerves. I knew I was a mark but I didn't care. I allowed myself to feel wanted again. To feel young and desirable.

After a truly nerve wrecking week, I called him. His number was switch off. I couldn't get a hold of him. I asked my assistant to find him and when she couldn't, I fired her. I entered my car by 11 pm and drove round town. I went to all his hangout spots - the ones he had told me about. He wasn't there either. It was like he had vanished. I finally summed up courage to drive to his place. He didn't know I had gotten someone to find out information about him. Since I was sure I was a mark, I needed to know who I was dealing with. Looking back at that faithful night as I headed for my 4pm appointment at the state secretariat building, it was sheer madness. Madness I tell you. I was behind the wheel looking like Cruella Davil with my hair disheveled and smudged makeup. I arrived his home and was grateful there was still lights on inside. I was at the door knocking. It was like I was being propelled beyond my will. Like a lightly puppet strung to a mad puppeteer. He opened the door and the look on his face should have sent me back into my car, to my house, into the earth and stay there. But the puppeteer wasn't quite finished with me. In a rush of words, tumbling over each other I told him to fuck me untill I lost my mind. "I don't think you need me for that. The loosing your mind part. Margaret, what are you doing here?" He looked up and down the street, I guess trying to make sense of what was going on. "Kunle, I need you to do all the things you said you would do to me when you catch me. And I need you to do it to me now." He led me into his apartment but the look of biwildment mixed with panic stuck on his rough face.

Even in the madness of the moment, I noticed the fresh breakouts and wondered what could have caused the violent redness scattered accros his face. Kunle at 26 had a smooth face like that of a teen pre puberty. I asked him for something hot and he got me coffee.

"Margaret, what is going on?"

I dropped the mug on the carpet and walked over to where he sat opposite me. I tried to remember how to be sexy. It felt like many lifetimes ago I was this way. Iman, my soon to be ex husband had been more than generous with his criticism of my body. I unzipped the bubu I was wearing and let it fall to the ground. "Kunle, I said I'm here to get fucked till I lose my mind."

That was four months ago.

The 4pm appointment would drag on till 10 pm. I had sent the driver home by 8pm together with the car. I hated to overstretch my workers and Fabian, my driver who had stuck with me even after his Oga, my now ex husband had left - had a 6 week old baby at home and needed to be with his wife.

By 10: 16 pm I stepped out of No 7 Tonga drive, adjacent to the state secretariat building, to a chill night. I adjusted my coat to ward off the cold and began walking down the streets. It was a beautiful night and I opted to walk instead of the offers to drop me off. Kunle said he was 12 minutes out. I figured that by the time I'd reached the intersection, by the overhead bridge, he'd be there. My heels as the hit the newly laid asphalt echoed in the quiet, causing a certain lull as I walked on.

"Kin kawo mana mai"

I spun at the voice so close behind me. It was dark, so I couldn't make out the face, but I saw four forms. I nodded to an inaudible greeting and continued walking down. I've experienced fear and intimidation most of my adult life. Growing up in a place like Jenta Adamu prepares you for the scum of the earth. I've faced intimidation in South Africa and the US. In business, in relationships, in life. I've always been a fighter.

"Na che kin kawo mana mai "? This voice belonged to a different speaker. His voice sounded hoarse and had a bite to it, unlike the first one. They had kept up the pace with me. I closed my eyes as the unwanted bubble rose to my throat. Fear. Living in Jenta felt so otherworldly, like a distant dream. A terribly bad dream. I kept walking, willing Kunle to appear. The cynical side of me still purred, hands akinbo to question "What are you expecting Kunle to do? He's only good for fuck. How is he going to help you now?"

"Ke" his hand touched my shoulder and I took off. I began to run but it was futile. In my new Guiseppe Zanotti sandals, it was difficult to run. And I couldn't fling them because of the buckles. One of the boys tackled me to the ground. He was over me, punching the back of my head, hard. The rest surrounded me. The one who tackled me, called Ahmed, used my newly installed wig to pull me back towards where I was coming from. The pain seared through me, as my face burned, and my hair ripped. Ahmed, taunted and cursed me in Hausa while the others laughed on.

"shegiya kowai. Kin fi ni gudu ko ? Ina kudi'n da su mazan chan sun baki da an gama chin ki?" "Za ki chi Ubanki, shegiya har kin sani gudu." He kept at it. Cursing me while pulling me down the road. Eventually, the wig ripped off and they all laughed as if on queue. He commanded me to stand. I couldn't. So I lay still. That earned me a kick in the ribs. I was incapable of wailing anymore. My tears, mingled with blood and sand flowed down my torn face. He commanded I stand again while one of them busied himself removing my jewelry, shoes, and other valuables. I braced myself for the assault I was sure was coming. It didn't come. I heard a thud, like a heavy sack falling, then footsteps receding. I didn't dare raise my head. I couldn't even if I wanted to. So I lay there expecting the worst.

"Margerate". It was Kunle. Relief washed over me and I suddenly found my voice. He lifted me like a rag doll, over his shoulder, in the dark and took me to his car. He dropped me gingerly in the back seat and made to close the door. I didn't mean to, but my fingers dug into him as I reached out to him. "don't leave me here" I managed to say through my sobbing. I was badly shaking. He needed to get the rest of my items he said. "Please don't go" I said over and over again untill he entered the car with me. He made a cryptic call then put the car into gear.

He took me to a private clinic inside Dong, away from scrutiny. I was examined, cleaned and stitched up. I had lost some blood and he was given a list of drugs and food items to place me on immidiately. No questions asked, no answers offered. On our way back, he stopped at around wild life park and turned off the engine. I'd been given a cocktail of drugs that had began to kick in, but somehow I could hear his phone conversation. There was a sentence that stuck. It was as loud as if he shouted it into my brain. "Leave that one, na me go kill am". I fought the blackness. What did he mean by that? Kunle... How ? Who do you want to kill Kunle?

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