Story: True Life Story Of An Addict

8 years ago

Story: True Life Story Of An Addict

Let me tell you guys a little about Deola.

Deola is one woman that really fascinates my fantasy, an uncommon woman actually. She was just 22yrs old when we met. She did all her schooling abroad, Birmingham, England to be precise. She’s got the British accent to show for it. Her holidays however has always been in Nigeria. Her dad worked with Chevron Limited and her mother was a lecturer at Bowen University ,Iwo. She was well trained, focused and committed to her job. She’s got a car of her own and lives in a 3 Bedroom Flat alone in one of the estates opposite Jakande Estate, Lekki.

According to her, she hasn’t meet a real man to settle down with. I no blame am. Unfortunately, most 9ja guys are always after a successful lady’s purse. Besides, I thought she was still very young to have contemplated on marriage at that tender age of 22 for we 9ja. Her mum was always on her neck to go find a man and bring him home so that they can endorse and perform a marriage rite for her (say wetin happen? 22yrs? Abegi). She never really liked her mum because she nags too much; her dad was her best friend and companion. She won’t do a thing or go anywhere without informing her dad first. Such a bond!

Because of her frequent visit to Nigeria during her schooling days, Deola was able to understand her mother’s tongue so fluently that one would thought she grew up in 9ja. She speaks the language anytime she wanna talk to her dad or call her mum, if need be. She is just down to earth and simple. The western life has shaped her philosophy so much that I envy her simplicity and honesty. She is just a wonderful woman: sweet, simple, saucy!

Enough of the advert on Deola abeg. More about her later on.

Cynthia called me as she promised, as early as 5am. She asked about my health and I told her everything is going as it should. She promised to call back around 3 in the afternoon. A little here a little there and the call was over. I went back to sleep and got up around 8am. Well, my phone actually woke me up. Ini was calling,

Ini: Good morning Oga Femi.

Me: Hey you. Morning.

Ini: Did I wake you?

Me: Sure you did. How are you?

Ini: I’m fine sir. And how are you too?

Me: I’m good. Are you at shop already?

Ini: Yes sir. I resume 8am.

Me: Ok. That’s cool. I hope you haven’t forgotten our deal?

Ini: No sir. In fact, that’s why I called. Can I come and collect the money for the soup before my madam arrives?

Me: Sure you can. Thanks.

Ini: Ok. I’ll be there soon.

Call ended.

I got up from bed pretty fast, brushed my teeth cos I don’t want my breath smelling awful. I counted 5k from my wallet and left for the sitting room. She arrived as promised witha knock on the door. This time, I did not even bother to ask who it was. I just opened the door and there she was, smelling good, looking radiant and sparkling. A reminiscent of what had happened yesterday flashed my mind. I opened up my arms again, and this, like she had been expecting me to do that, rushed into it again. I held her so close and more tightly than yesterday’s. She held on to my shirt again in full consent to whatever I feel like doing to her.

Me: Thanks for helping me Ini.

Ini: You’re welcome sir. Do you have the money here? I need to go back quickly.

Me: Oh yes. Here it is.

I handed the 5k to her and asked her if it will do the cooking. She counted it and asked,

Ini: All these for soup you are going to eat alone? Or are you expecting that your ‘friend’ today?

I sensed a jealous tone there woman. I laughed and replied,

Me: Is it too small or too much Ini?

Ini: Noooo. It will be ok. Let me get back sir. I’ll see you by 1pm.

Me: Please do.

I drew her closer, hugged her and whisphered, “Have a nice day.”

She hurriedly left my house and I shut the door behind her. “Why are women so jealous of themselves?”, I asked myself as I made my way back into my room. “Well, she will be in better position to answer that when she comes back”, I concluded.

Experience has taught me that women comes in various shapes, sizes, likes, dislikes, taste, needs, emotional display, passion and intellect.

1. Some will love you for who you are; not because of what you are/have: your status, where you work, how much you earn, your asset and so on. They just want a companion, a guy they can relate with, share their feelings with and the likes. They want you for themselves alone, not willing to share you with anyone.

2. Others are what we guys made them to become. Believe me, girls are like paintings: they are what we want to see. If you lavish a woman with money, be prepared to sustain her with that money or else, she would walk away! This type of girls are only concerned about what is in store for them. They are into relationship for what they can get!

Yea, I’m no marriage counsellor but hey, I’ve seen enough. And I tell you, we’ve the second category in abundance out there today! I only had an experience with one of them, Janet (More about her much later). *sighs*

As I la!d me down on the bed that morning, I kept thinking about the kind of ring I threw myself into.

Cynthia – Yes! There is something going on.

Ini – It doesn’t look like it yet, but it can.

Deola – Femi, you sure say this Britiko go open leg for you?

When I couldn’t think straight any longer, and with my present health condition, I resigned to fate. Let me allow things fall into place by themselves.

*Qui cera cera: What will be, will be.

I prepared Golden Morn that morning to fill up my empty stomach, at least until Ini comes to cook. I took my bath and resorted to Video Games, having cleaned up everywhere that day. I was into the game when I received a text message from Deola,

“Hello Mr. How are you this morning? Just checking on you. Please take your drugs o. Have a nice day.”

“This is girl is only trying to be professional now Femi”, I said to myself. At that momemt, every momentum of anything happening between us diminished. I started seeing her as just a friend, a good friend that can be trusted (*coughs* that’s all). I replied her by simply saying, “Thanks. You too.”

Instead of wasting time over what may not be, I began to fantasize on the prospect of yanshing Ini. The myth of how good and monstrous Calabar Girls are on bed fueled my fantasy. The opportunity of really finding out by myself gave me joy. I just kept checking my wall clock every minute and wished I could just turn the hand of the clock. But wait oo, we are still at the preliminaries now. I never tell this girl anything about loving her, and she hasn’t too. The only thing we exchanged was a mutual seductive hugs. Could that be the key to unlocking her world? Time will tell.

Guys you know the feeling of trying to wait for someone now. The clock no gree move ooo. In fact, it was as if hold-up dey inside the clock. I felt the need to call Ini but something restrained me: I don’t wanna look as if I am drooling over her joor. I’ll appear weak and desperate.

The only way to pass this test is to switch off my phone. So I did. I lost myself into the games only. When computer wan finish my life with their ojoro, I switched off the game and in stead, continued my all time numero uno classical seasonal film: 24. Thank God I made this choice cos it really took all of me into it. Only a film built on so much suspense can do that.

In a flash, my eyes travelled across the wall clock’s position: 12:49pm!

Quickly I switched on my phone, paused the movie and sat up. I received up to 15 messages immediately I put on my phone. Alas! All the messages where from Ini: 3 text messages, 12 Please Call Me(s). Chai! See wahala.

Message 1.

“Oga Femi, my madam has left the shop. Should I go to the market now?”

Message 2.

“Oga Femi, I have been calling your line since 10 O’clock. I am on my way to the market.”

Message 3.

“Na wah for you oo. I am back from the market. I will come by 1pm as promised.”

See my life! I can’t imagine what she might have gone through because she was trying to help me. I thought of how to appease her for all she had gone through. I replied her messages by saying,

“You’re an angel darling, a God-sent damsel; sweet and caring. Sorry I didn’t respond quickly. I’ll be waiting for you.”

I think Ini’s best companion is her phone. She replied instantly by saying,

“Ok ooo. I thought you were angry with me. I’ll see you soon.”

There were two more girls in the supermarket aside Ini. By virtue of who was first employed, Ini enjoys some priviledges more than the rest of the girls. She could decide to stay longer than her usual 2hrs break as long as her boss is not around. All she need do is tease and scope the other girls who cannot but submit to her. She earns a lot of respect because people trusted her. She is faithful with money and very honest. She is the only female attendant in the supermarket who had the priviledge of going to her madam’s house in Ikeja whenever she needed to pick something at home. According to Ini’s confession, her attractiveness almost made her madam’s husband sef wan press button ooo. He tried on many occasions to ripe her cloths off her body. She was saved that day because she was very close to the door. Hmmmm! This life sha? Wetin me never chop, somebody wan take am by force? Tufiakwa!

A knock on my around 1pm suggested that Ini is finally around. I walked majestically to the door and opened up. I welcomed Ini with a smile and felt like kissing her already. Too early right? Yes, too early. I couldn’t hug her too because of what she was carrying. I flunged the door open for her and she made her way straight into the kitchen to begin the cooking. By the look of things, she is time restrained. She’s got 2hrs to do all the cooking.

I joined her in the kitchen to see if I could be of her while she cook and yes, I was useful in my own little way. I washed the pots, rinsed the meat and fish she bought, salt the fish and plucked the vegetables. I try now abi? She looked at me and said weldone.