Toto Series: That’s Your Problem

Toto Series - That's your problem

Toto Series - That's your problem

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.
I sat in the front seat still strapped waiting for Angela to get back. She had left the key in the ignition and left the stereo on so that I won’t be bored but instead the music kept annoying me with each new song. Do people really listen to the garbage this singers spew? And it’s played on radio? Even though I admit that my anger wasn’t entirely because of the music, I reached for the knob to turn it off. Maybe my mind would have some quiet to sieve through its own noise.

“We interrupt regular broadcast…”

the voice of the announcer rough and untidy interrupted the song and my action.

“… Listen to this. Following the fresh wave of the new virus, federal government is pressed to announce with immediate effect the closing down of all schools, public and private. All  places of worship and leisure. Interstate travel will also be restricted to only personal on essential duty; our security forces, medical personnel and the media. These measures are necessary to ensure the safety of lives of every Nigerian and government is deeply saddened by any inconvenience this may cause. States are advice to follow the safety guidelines in establishing their containment strategies. God bless the… ”

” hope I didn’t take too long? The queue was something else” Angela burst into the car interrupting the rest of the announcement. She put the takeaway packs and other items in the back seat.

“Are you okay?”

She queried and I nodded. Another lock down? This is the type of material nightmares are made of.
“Are you sure you are okay?”

” Dude, just drive okay! ”
” you don’t have to yell at me. Be a sour puss all you want but that attitude better be fixed by the time we arrive Tim’s place.”

Another lock down? With immediate effect? Did this fuckers ever think anything through before making these pronouncements? Could this country survive another round of lock downs? This was some real bullshit. I needed out of here!

“why da fuck is this happening?” I cursed under my breath.

“You said?”


“I heard you say something. Spit it”

“If you heard then why da fuck are you now asking me”?

“I didn’t hear the words and what exactly is wrong with you? Why are you acting like I drowned your cat???”

“I am so not in the mood for this okay… Just drive. Mtcheeew… In fact what did you get for lunch?”

“Are you doing this on purpose? Are you acting mad because it turns me on? If you want some of this… Just say so! She took her hand off the steering wheel to demonstrate her whole body. She knew how to make my frown turn upside down.

“You dey ment. Maifren what did you get for lunch?”

I smiled as I searched the backseat where she dropped the takeaway packs, choosing spaghetti and turkey wings.

Angela and I had shared a total of ten words during our first three years of school. She was a “chirpy-the-day-is-always-sunny-and I’m a pretty yellow flower girl and I kept away from her lot. I was a loner and it served me well.

We actually got to know each other during a school field trip. We had all been paired, two to a room to save cost and we ended up in the same room. I only slept in the room at night to avoid her and her brainless lot. She always had people drawn to her. Like some queen bee. Urgh!

On the day we were to visit the palace of the Ewi of Ado Ekiti, a day before our departure that is, we both woke up by 10am, the bus left since 8:30 am. We then had the grand idea, well actually she had the idea to follow them even though none of us knew the place or knew a word of Yoruba in case we needed directions. The taxi we hired took us to the Ejeye Oka Ere Shrine and left even before we could confirm if the location was correct.

After plenty fails at describing where we needed to be, a good Samaritan offered to take us there. That Samaritan would end up robbing us and leaving us on the side of the road, where we thinking the day couldn’t possibly get worst got drenched by the hardest rain I’ve ever felt. It was like we were being flogged by an unseen old woman for missing the bus.
By this time I was too angry for words. My anger swelled and spilled over my wet cheeks merging with the large strokes pelting my head and back. Angela on the other hand was laughing and talking about looking at the bright side of things.
Even though we had spent the last 3 hours getting fucked, she was all giddy and sunny. That made me even angrier. While we contemplated our next line of action, the bus we missed just happened to pass us. We rode the bus in silence while our lecturer saw it as a teachable moment and went on a tirade of why we should utilize all opportunities or end up miserable like Angela and Edidiong. By the time we reached the hotel I was ready to carve my brains out with a blunt rusty knife. I went up to our room while our lecturer gave Angela orders on whatever. I wasn’t going to stick around longer for the over twenty pairs of eyes judging, pitying and gloating at my predicament. Fuck them all.

I sat at the edge of the bathtub and let my tears fall unhindered. The monies I lost wasn’t even my problem, it’s the fact that I was taken for a fool. Growing in Asaba, you learn quickly that the difference between life and death is gullibility. Person wey fit make you believe am fit kill you. And such an easy con?


It was all Angela’s fault. I actually got caught up in her optimistic spirit and see where it landed me. The door creak interrupted my hiss. And just like the devil being summoned; Angela was inside the bathroom with me. Naked and muddy with that godforsaken smile on her face.

“Can’t you see the bathroom is occupied? ”

She entered the bathtub with me and turned on the shower head. She squealed as the water cold as ice sprayed us. Her squeal tuned into a giggle and full blown laugher while my body shook in anger. That’s when she kissed me. It was a collusion of her lips against mine. That jolted me out of the bathtub, out of the bathroom and almost out of the hotel room. She followed me dripping wet and laughing.

“Don’t evert try that shit!” I shouted. My voice sounding strangely thinner than usual.
“Why? I saw the way you’ve been looking at me throughout today. Don’t tell me…”
“You’re very mad. Who was looking at you? I no dey play this kain game so if this is a joke you better stop it.”

She walked up to me. Stood until our nose touched then lifted my left hand and placed on her breasts. I jerked at the feel of her skin against my palm. But she held it There. I swallowed hard. What was suddenly stuck in my throat? And why was I panting? What was happening to me??

She moved my palm over her breasts in an up down motion. My eyes fluttered closed. I swallowed. I felt her lips. Soft and moist brush over my lips. I tried to open my eyes, I tried to speak, to push her away but I couldn’t move. It was like I was in a trance, awake to every sensation coursing through my body but unable to move. My lips parted and her tongue gained entrance. She played with my lower lip, allowing her lips and teeth and tongue gain familiarity of my mouth as she pressed harder on my palms.

She left my hands to wonder over the marvel of her anatomy while she touched on mine. Her cold hands sent a shiver down my entire body. She rolled her tongue over mine and  tugged on my nipple simultaneously eliciting a deep throaty moan from me. Her tongue was on my neck while her hands were rubbing my breasts showing me places to also touch on her body. It was too much, there was too much happening at once. I pulled back panting like I’d just escaped being mauled by a cheetah.

“I’ve never done this before.”
She gave me a knowing node and led me to the bed.
“Just let go of everything. Follow the flow.”
“You are not hearing me. I said I’ve never been with a woman before. This is so wrong.”
She looked me deep into my eyes before kissing my lips.
“Does this feel wrong?”
She kissed my neck and whispered into my ear.
“Does this feel wrong to you?”
She sucked on my nipple drawing me deep into her mouth before giving me the lightest bite.

“Does this feel wrong.”

She rubbed on the mouth of my vagina lightly before pressing her Index and forefinger into my moist opening. The moan escaped even before I knew there was a buildup. I shut my eyes and swallowed.

“Does this feel wrong to you?”

She asked in the most ethereal voice as her fingers worked me. My body was on fire yet I wanted more. My throat was patched and no matter how much I swallowed I still needed more. My legs couldn’t hold my weight anymore but it didn’t matter because I was floating. I was weightless as her stroking intensified. There I was in a swanky hotel room being pleasured by a woman who was making me feel things I’d never Felt. My orgasm hit me. Fast and hard. I’d never had an orgasm so there was no anticipating It. I felt a jolt like sensation that spread from the back of my head to every single part of my body. It was like I was being fed with electric current low enough to survive and high enough to force screaming from me. She held on to me until the spasms had run its course.

The next day as soon as we arrived campus, I shaved my hair into a mowhawk.

That was seven years ago. We hadn’t been in the same city since after graduation and lost all communications until the first lock down saw us quarantined together in Melbourne. She was running a course that I was facilitating. I’d moved to Sidney to avoid Nigerians and their small mindedness after I’d come out to my mum and she in turn told my dad who arranged for me to be married to his old friend’s son who funny enough was a closet gay. He was willing to go ahead with the union to end months of bullying and threats. I wasn’t. My dad gave me an ultimatum. Be married or disowned. I chose the latter. I left home, Nigeria and everything in it with the intention of never returning until I walked into the lecture hall that faithful winter morning and saw Angela in all her giddiness. She had grown from the girl in Ekiti to a sophisticated woman. She’d been sent by her company which according  to her was going to be headed by her in the fall. She had moved up and it showed on her. She’d replaced her jeans with pencil skirts braids with a bob complete with rich hues. Her makeup was subtle and accentuated her high cheekbones and brown eyes.

After the lecture she came to introduce herself. I’d acted like she was just another post graduate foreign student and didn’t allow my gaze linger beyond seconds. I feigned ignorance then surprise then anger. She was all apologies and laughter. She was staying at the Atlantis and wouldn’t mind if we meet up sometime for drinks. I told her it was against school policy to frolic with students.

“Even old friends?”

“First of all there is nothing old about you, and secondly sadly even old friends.”

For the next three months we shared the same space and built up so much tension. We could’ve powered a village for weeks. It was always there; the undercurrent of desire. Being in the same room and acting like strangers took every single strength I could master. I became irritable and curt with my students. My normal mild Gothic brooding turned into full darkened skies. The more angry I got, the more turned on she became, the more she tried to get me the more I acted. A full circle of intense fucking without any of the pleasure.

After a particularly fucked up day, I called her up in the evening and invited her to my place for drinks. As soon she stepped into the room I pounced on her. She was still giddy and mischievous but I was a grown woman who had tore through women in three countries. This time around I was in charge and I wanted to fuck through the tension of the past three months. I wanted to fuck her smile off her face. She’d taught me a few tricks back in uni, I was about to show her new international tricks.

Her lips were still as soft as I remembered. We were both in a rush to familiarize our lips, hands, bodies. Our clothes left a trail from the living room door to the bed. I made her sit on my fingers. Spreading wide, jutting her juiced big butt filling my grateful palms. Her grind was rhythmic. Deep deep.. Round deep… Low curl deep… Deep deep. I followed her tempo moving to her grind. Giving her room to drive us there. Before long, her head fell to the side in the way I knew her eruption was near.
Not so fast.

I stood up lifting her with her butt to my face. I dropped her on the top of my drawers and went in. She tasted soft like hot marshmellows melting in my mouth. Her nails dug into my back sending me deeper. I could feel her thighs squeeze in as the night was rendered by her moans. She cames in gusts.. Her breath and juices erupted staccato like.  She smiled at me as I took her to the bed.

You ain’t seen nothing yet.

I wore Hercules. All my straps had names. Hercules was my 7 inch pink dildo. I hovered above her, guiding hercules like à taunt arrow.

“I want to have you in the shower.  That’s where I got my first taste of your lips, it’s only right I give you a taste of the monster you made there”

She giggled as she caressed the side of my face. She paused as though an unpleasant thought reached out to steal her joy.

“Is that what you think of yourself? A monster?”
“I’d let you be the judge of that. ”

I’ve not been with anyone else. I couldn’t bring myself to be with someone else after you left.”
“After I left? You and I remember what happened differently. It doesn’t even matter now, we are here. We should be fucking not talking.”

“It matters to me. Do you know what you did? How I felt when you left? No word, no explanation, just silence.”

WHAT! How was she spread in my bed in the glow of her cum fresh and poignant and saying I left her? She must have bumped her head on the wall while I gave her head. Maybe instead of cum she’d orgasmed brain matter.

“That’s your problem”

She knew better than to continue any conversation after I’d said those words. She knew that was me checking out.

She reached out with both hands and pinched my nipples, hard ! My groan was a throaty broken  AHhhh.. Hh!

I thrust in ferociously. She spread open welcoming my deep assault. I was like a hell hound following a faint scent. She was my gateway yet I was doomed to always remain imprisoned. I thrust deeper burying her betrayal. Enveloping myself in the softness of her insides where the sting of her throwing away my love pure and fierce couldn’t reach.

Watching her in the throes of passion drove me mad with desire. She didn’t hold anything back. She gave and received in equal measure. I flipped her over and she provided the perfect arch.

Ahh… Hhha!

I went in!

I tasted of her offering.

She was flowing with molten necter. She was swollen with pleasure and I sucked and teased and drew sounds of music from her.

When her whimpering grew deeper I thrust into her again..driving her to platforms she’d never been on, taking her through dark alleys of desire she’d never knew existed.

I felt my jerking and knew the inevitable was near. Holding on for dear life I exploded in to tiny fragments of nothingness.

“Still think I’m not a monster?”

she insisted we take a shower but we ended up fucking again.  After a dinner of Chinese takeout we were back in my bed. I never allowed any woman sleep in my bed. But here she was all comfortable and shit in my sweatshirt and socks.

“You’re sweet. I don’t know why you think you need to hide behind your clothes and hair and all this..

“Anger? That seems to be your Achilles no?”

The giggle was back.

“I don’t even know how even after all these years you still have a hold on me. Mehn. And the way you fuck? Omo! I almost passed out! That thing you did in the bathroom, I’ve never experienced sensations like that ever. I mean, even if I want to; I can’t claim to have made this monster as you say.”

You were the first woman I was ever with. And it’s not like I wanted to be with a woman before. Sometimes I remember Ekiti and I wonder if we hadn’t gotten lost and duped and drenched, if you hadn’t walked into the bathroom or kissed me, I’d probably be in Ikorodu with two children and a husband stuck in the madness of that city. With no one this wiser. Even if you don’t claim it, you actually made me come to terms with who I am.”

She’d moved into my apartment three days later and a week after that the first quarantine measures where invoked. She was always calling home. The protests in various cities, the warehouse looting she kept tabs on it all. That was also when I knew about Tim. She’d met Tim during our final exams and they’d been together ever since. They were clearly in love. The way she became animated when she talked about him. The way she’d cry silently on nights she spoke to him. That was who she had chosen over me.

She’d introduced me as her best friend and I smiled and waved into the camera when they FaceTimed. As soon as travel restrictions were eased she was on the next available flight back to Nigeria leaving me with a broken heart for the same man again.

Four months ago she faced timed me to show me her ring. Tim had proposed and they were getting married. It was going to be a small wedding with mostly family and a few friends. She wanted me to be her made of honor. I’d cried that night. This woman that had been my first lover, that had made me realize what loving someone totally was, was asking me to come and bear witness as she gave of herself to another man. And somehow I’d agreed? The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I called the twins and even that couldn’t stop my broken river banks.

It’s been two weeks since I arrived Lagos and the tension between us had already peaked. My consolation was that in two more weeks this will all be over and I’d call up Boirj to exorcise Angela’s memory. That was until the announcement over the radio of another lock down with immediate effect.

****** ****** ***** **** **** **** ****

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Toto Series: Undiluted Worship Pt. 2

by, published 2 years, 3 months 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 2 years, 4 months 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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