TWO WRONGS

Ndifreke decided to have another bath. This time, he took his time and washed his scrotum and armpit with sponge and soap and rinsed with plenty of water. He returned to his room, doused himself with Brut body spray and brought out a new pack of boxers from his bag and selected a colourful pair. The tracksuit he wore only that morning still appeared fresh, so he put it on again, took a good look at himself and stepped out of the room.

He had succeeded in putting Maya out of his thoughts, but for some reason, he found that was not as excited as he ought to be at the prospect of going to be with the beautiful Elizabeth. Still, he would not be deterred. He reached her compound and went through the open pedestrian gate and stood at her groundfloor flat and pressed the doorbell. Elizabeth met him at the door herself.

Whatever doubt or fears he had haboured as he left his house vanished when he saw her. She met him barefooted in only a halter fishnet chemise that told him everything he needed to know about the goddess before him. Her fair skin was as unblemished as an incandescent bulb. Her already hard nipples surged out of the net she wore and as he tried to fully take in the glory of her perfect curves she embraced him and put her hands around his neck and found his lips on tiptoe. Ndifreke’s hand circled her waist by rote as he kissed her back. She pressed her body to his and guided his hand to her breast and he cupped one and kneaded without breaking the kiss. He squeezed her nipple and drew a moan before an alarm in his head made him stop.

“Where is your maid?”      

“I sent her far away.”

They resumed kissing and groping and moved with tangled legs toward the living room couch. She pushed him on the three-seater and stepped away from him. She really was a goddess he thought. She giggled and turned away and moved towards the kitchen. Not sure what her intention was, he shot out of the sofa and followed behind her. She reached the fridge and opened it and bent. Her bottom was so round, her pudenda so visibly moist that he struggled out of his tracksuit and boxers and freed his extra hard penis and took aim.

Light almost went out of Elizabeth’s eyes when she felt him burst into her. She shut the door of the fridge and steadied herself as he held her waist and rammed away. When she felt him getting even bigger inside of her and his movement became faster, she pulled away and tiptoed back to the living room as he chased after her. Giggling, she went on her knees and said “You jumped the gun. Let’s go back to the beginning.”

With that, she took him in her mouth and began to suck. Slowly at first and as he became comfortable and relaxed she increased the tempo until he begged her to stop seeing our perilously close he had come to finish. Then she lay on the couch and spread her legs and he knew it was time to return the favour. He did, and then following a loud instruction from her he eased up and held her legs apart by the ankles and powered into her. He fucked her till her legs began to shake and then her body wriggled like a boa’s as she cried out under the power of an intense orgasm. He found the presence of mind to pull out of her and shoot his seed all over the couch and wall and then he collapsed by her side.

When they could talk again she said: “Why then did I waste my time making my bed with new perfumed sheets?”

“I wanted to save you the trouble of washing the sheets.”

They both laughed and then Elizabeth stood up and removed the fishnet chemise she wore. It made little difference as she was always naked in his eyes. She went to the fridge unhindered this time and returned with a bottle of white wine and two glasses.

“I put something in the microwave. You will need to replenish your energy. You haven’t even started.”

“I’m at your service ma’am.”

They laughed and he said “Was that what you wanted to go and get the other time?”

“No. Ice cream. I wanted you to put it all over me and lick me. But clearly you had other ideas.”

She poured him a drink and they clinked glasses and she said “Do you want to talk about what transpired with your girlfriend?”

“No please.”

“Alright. You are doing the right thing. You two are now even. You can better stand her now.”

“Two wrongs making a right,” he scoffed.

“Is fucking me a wrong?” She said and stood and went back into the kitchen and returned with two grilled croaker fish and a big bowl of salad and bread rolls with a jar of peanut butter on a large tray. They ate hurriedly after which ELizabeth led him to her bedroom.

Two hours and two more rounds of sex and a nap later, she placed her head on his chest and said “So are you ready to screw Jonjo?”

“He has given me back my job.”

“Do you want to go back there and watch him humiliate you, because he is going to make sure you know he is screwing your girl.”

“I don’t know.”

“Then screw him first.”

“By breaking his wife’s heart as you earlier suggested?”

“It kills his business.”

“I don’t know if I want to kill his business.”

“You have to.”

“I am now even with Maya. And I have my job back.”

“Not for long. Jonjo never forgives. While you are there, set up cameras. Make videos. Take pictures. Find receipts in the bin. Be prepared.”

Ndifreke heaved a deep sigh. He was weary now. He did not think his legs could carry him out of there as quickly as he wanted it to.

Elizabeth sensed his desire to leave.

“When am I seeing you again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come and spend the night with me whenever you want.”

“I will remember that.”

As he walked back to number 225 the feeling of trepidation from earlier returned. Why did he not feel happy and fulfilled after bedding a woman like Elizabeth? Why did he feel empty after the kind of experience you thought about every waking moment of your teenage and early adult life? Why did he feel like he had just done something he was going to live to regret?

When he reached the compound the first person he saw was Mama Tobi. Mama Tobi was taking delivery of firewood and smiling at him.

Why was Mama Tobi smiling at him?

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

Evae was happy about the way the morning was going. Whoever said that all new businesses faced teething problems? You often heard about adjustment periods and whatnot. People even told you to be ready to incur losses for a start, and those sort of things. But barely a week into it, the bread factory now sent a van to do her delivery, she cooked three times more beans than she did at the start and she had also advertised for a sales girl who would also help with the cooking. She had started with five thousand naira and could already boast of forty thousand naira in cash. Katakata street was enjoying her ewa agoyin. And Evae was already planning to open a bank account so that she would have a place to be smiling to every Monday morning. Food business really was a steal!

However, that morning, after she had served the first ten people, her first test as a businesswoman in a volatile world unfolded before her.

“Sexy elewa! You wan kill me?”

As she tried to understand what the man was saying, another came and vomited into the gutter close to her. “Togo geh! Na kerosene you use do maggi for your ewa today?”

“Wetin you dey talk?” Evae gasped.

Then one by one everyone she had served that morning returned in different states of physical discomfort. Evae did not know what to do.

“I say kerosene full de ewa. You know say you no go fit do something you come start. Who you wan con kill for here?”

Because she was pregnant she was always nauseous. It was also more difficult eating her own cooking so she did not taste the food and was not willing to do so now either. She scooped some with a spoon and took it to her nose. She could not smell the kerosene.

“Chop am!” one of the aggrieved customers ordered. “Put stew on top chop am!”

A child ran inside the compound and told Achike what was happening. Achike came storming out with Chisco in tow.

He heard someone say “Togo girl! Since wey we don dey chop food for this street nobody don do this kind thing.”

Being a suave businessman, Achike stepped in and stood in front of Evae and addressed the angry group

“Make una no vex. Na mistake. E fit be say na when she wan light the fire. Oya, we go give una back all of una money.”

And so Evae returned all the money to the aggrieved customers and after Chisco had examined the food and confirmed the kerosene contamination, she emptied fifteen thousand naira worth of ewa agoyin into a trash bag and threw it on the street for the waste disposal truck.

The following day the same drama played out. This time Evae’s pot of designer beans had enough salt in it to cook ten bags of beans. Her customers again queued up for refund. Others with the intention to buy from her went over to Mama Cowbell’s for the rice and beans they were used to.

Someone said: “Togo girl. Abeg carry this thing comot here go continue dey fuck de fuck wey carry you come Nigeria.”

That made Evae to cry.

By the third day even though she tasted her beans and got Chisco and Achike to have full meals of it with bread before she started selling, customers shunned her.

Evae had her suspicions about what was happening but she did not have any proof. Achike also did not want to be drawn into it. He had seen too many fights between women over things like that and parents over children squabbles in the face-me-i-face-you that he always pointed to those as a key marriage deterrent while he still lived there. He advised Evae to be more vigilant and not to keep her things unattended.

Evae began the hard work of convincing customers to buy her food again. The contaminated beans seemed like a wake up call to them as they seemed to suddenly realize rice and beans was always the choice street breakfast. Evae began to sell bigger portions for smaller money to win back customers. She choked on her sob when she realized that at the rate things were going, they would have to depend on whatever Achike would make if they were to escape her father’s clutches.

Agbonyibo knew what had happened. Mama Cowbell now trotted about like a peacock and was always heard singing victory songs, and welcoming her old customers back with something short of fanfare. Even though he cared little about Evae and Achike, it fascinated Agbonyibo to see a local woman demonstrate such appetite for malevolence. Agbonyibo had not had the chance to do any recreational evil in a long time. Now he wanted to see if the woman could take some of what she dished out.

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

Papa Efe came out and looked around number 225. He heard the noises from the shops and knew about Evae’s misfortune. He saw the different groups of gossips doing their thing. He observed Mama Tobi and Mama Akunna – the newest besties in the compound doing their own obviously evil tete-a-tete. He saw Agbonyibo trotting about like he owned the world. He also saw that the council of elders was about to gather. He had no interest in all of it. He had made his decision. A decision that was for the greater good. He could hear them talking about everything that had happened recently: Buhari and the APC installing rubber stamps as Senate President and House Speaker, the senseless killings in Taraba, ex-governor Amosun’s mysterious arm stockpile, Buhari building settlements for herdsmen all over the nation without building any schools, Anthony Joshua’s surprise conqueror now demanding $40m to fight him in the UK, the ongoing AFCON and the chances of the Super Eagles; and when somebody mentioned Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo and Timi Dakolo’s wife the gathering erupted.

“See how she was describing the way he brought out his penis and struggled to put it. She just emphasized that so that we will know she has a tight pussy.”

“She was a virgin. All virgin pussies are tight.”

“She is a victim of rape and rape is not a joke,” Mr. Zubi interjected. I will leave this gathering if I hear one more disrespectful word from anyone.”

“Alleged rape oga. The pastor has come out to say the woman is lying.”

“Alright, alleged rape. She still may be telling the truth and if that is the case, you lot should not be joking with any aspect of her story. Rape can be traumatic.”

“Ogbeni make we hear word. This is Africa. Nothing traumatizes us. Much less prick. Prick o! ordinary fuck that she may have enjoyed. She and her husband just want to blow. I don’t want to hear that rubbish of speaking up to get healing or for the sake of others. What healing? Which others? Did she not speak to her family? Has she not spoken to her husband? If you have ever carried a burden, ordinary talking in front of the mirror sef can heal you. They both badly need attention. I doubt that she kept any evidence these nineteen years. So it is his word against hers. We are only being emotional because we know say de pastor no straight. As somebody said, a good lawyer will tear her into pieces in a cross-examination. Dem rape you finish, you keep quiet siddon there till the man go hin moto go bring Krest come open your mouth pour the drink inside. You no even cough. Are you a sex doll? Na jazz? Abegi!”

“Coca-cola should consider bringing back Krest though. Dem go hammer.”

Papa Efe watched as Mr. Zubi walked out of the group in disgust. He too went back into his room to do what he was now sure he had to do.

He brought out the relic palm wine gourd. It was the most valuable piece of sorcerer’s material he owned, handed down six generations. Not even Irikefe with his famed nosiness would have found it in the single room they shared. He brought out the nine nails he had selected and bent in L shapes. He brought out the tissue paper with the human hair, another of poison ivy, stinging nettle and hogweed together. Then he checked again that the door was locked and then went to a corner of the room and defecated in a small bowl. He made sure to direct his penis into the bowl for urine, as both materials were needed. He finished and mixed both properly with the thumb of his left hand and then put all the ingredients into the gourd and covered with dry banana leaves.

The honourable thing would have been to bury the gourd like that. He had lived his life and he deserved to go because he had ventured into the other world. But he thought about Evae. She was young, pregnant, repented and with all of her life ahead of her. Then he removed the dry banana leave covering of his mixture and brought it to his lips and spoke three names.

In the dead of the night, when Katakata street was asleep, when the cocky witches and wizard had had their time on the rooftop and returned to their bodies, Papa Efe found a cracked spot on the concrete floor of the frontage of number 225 and dug a hole and buried the gourd.

TO BE ROUNDED OFF NEXT.

SEXY ELEWA

June 30, 2019

QUIT NOTICE

June 30, 2019