Love, Lust And Lost - Season 1 Episode 69

6 years ago

When the bell went off for the close of school activities that day which was also a Friday, the last day of the school week, most of the students went for their different religious service.

The muslims all congregated for their Fridays’ prayers which was organised and coordinated by a Muslim cleric who often took the assembly every middle of the week on Muslim practices and the Quran. In his absence on any Friday to conduct the prayers, the Vice-principal who was also an Alhaji and vast in the Islamic religion, took his place.

You would see most muslim students bringing out mats; some were setting open twines that had been used to pack the small rubber kettle together in a sack; these kettles were made handy for ablutions at the tap close to the teachers’ quarters.

The female student had all come with their hijabs as they put them on; some reaching their knees while others just hung a bit below the navel. Their male counterparts had their small cap on, as they all in unison trudged to the back of the school where the prayer and lecture session were often held.

The Vice-principal who was the muezzin at the spur of the moment had finished performing his ablution. He went to a mat that had been set aside from the congregation, looking forward, you will see the blue and yellow mat lying in front.

He stepped on it calling all muslims to hurry up and leave whatever they might be doing, to worship Allah, who is the most beneficient and most merciful.

“Allahu Akbar’” he would shout, hold a hand to his ears and the worship was started.

The Christians on their own weren’t left out of performing their duties to God. Though, not many of the Christian students often waited for the fellowship but quite a number were oft present.

“Hurry up now, you know say praise songs go don start and na that part dey sweet pass.”

They hurried to climb the stairs as the person she was waiting for had caught up with her. As they climbed, their bags were clanging at their backs.

The fellowship venue was the SS3 Art class. It was conducted by the Account teacher who was also the Supervisor of the fellowship. Although, there was a President and other executives appointed to do that but because she was the religions type, had always come around to make sure she did her duty to God.

Many of the students who attended the fellowship didn’t go because they wanted to hear the word of God but rather they went so they could dance their sorrows out, dance all the stress that started on Monday till today, a Friday.

It was a weekend tomorrow and they were so happy to be going off for two days, even if it was just that, it was okay by them – at least, they would rest and do whatever it is they wanted.

“We bring the sacrifice of praise!” The president would lead the chorus and the congregation would respond; clapping of hands and beating of drums would begin; students dancing any type of dance as the spirit led.

Oge and Onome and few of her friends haven’t gone for any of the fellowship. May be they were witches, only God knew or our dearest in divination, the traditionalist.

They were seated in the commercial class and Radio Nigeria entertained them, she had asked them to wait. The classroom was littered with nylons of sweets; biscuit; black nylons of doughnuts and sort.

“Eh ehn! Imagine what I saw!!!” She clasped her hands mockingly, her face with a snare.

“Tell us wetin you see o,” they chorused really interested. Gossiper’s Association of Wahab. Their faces were written with a caligraphy pen, enthusiast.

“Make we hear am abeg.”

They all sat properly where they were seated; their legs on the chairs and skirts tucked in between their laps like an old woman cooking in a village hut would do.

“You won’t believe what I saw!” She stood hands on hips, requesting her audience to yawn to hear her break the news or whatever story she had in stored for them.

“Talk na, abi which one be all this yanga wey you dey do!”

Onome urged her, the first three buttons of her shirt were loosed revealing her cleavage. She had loosened her hair and combed it backwards without binding them to a knot. She ran lip-gloss on her lips, skin was way dark than normal as if she had gone mining in the hot sun the afternoon.

She had removed her tie, shoes and socks – sitting barefooted on a desk. Her legs were opened apart forming a `V’ shape revealing her grey underwear (tight).

“Na Mariam I see o!”She began.

“That boyfriend snatcher, I still mean her o, she no fit escape from my trap.” Oge hissed and continued “na God save her self, dem for carry her go do money.”

“Wait make I land na before you `chuk’ mouth,” Radio Nigeria interjected, her audience keeping mute.
“Na waka I dey waka o wey I use this my `korokoro’ eyes see Mariam and Melvin dey kiss. The guy even dey press her b0s0m `pompi pompi’ like say him be Vendor.”

“Sho!!! I hope say no be my Melvin sha?” Oge’s eyeballs brightened a little, she looked to her friend Onome and back to Radio Nigeria, she surrendered her gaze on her.

“Si-don there make jean-string dey enter your to`to,” Radio Nigeria lampooned.

She adjusted her skirt bringing it down a little. She was slim, so slim that her skirt begged for waist to grip on to. It had to give thanks to the zip sewed on the left side of the skirt, if not, would have been a dum-palm nut’s to not fall off her waist. Her b0s0m were so small, they were a dotted note on a staff in music.

“You mean say na my own Melvin you see with that thing!” She rose up furiously pointing to herself to acclaim Melvin as hers and hers alone. She broadened her gaze, they were thin and inquisitive and angered.

“Yes, your ex-boyfriend because as e dey so ehn, him no be your maga again. Person wey sharp pass you na him dey collect him thing. Na she collect am for your hand.”

Radio Nigeria laughter was thunderous, one would vouch such slim body couldn’t have that sort of voice to laugh. She continued to laugh like a witch that it got Oge really angry, she was bitter and pained, she swallowed bile.

“Wetin I go do this girl this time around, she self go see say no be person like me she suppose to dey follow drag boy.”

“You no dey shut-up for once?” Onome faced Radio Nigeria that was still laughing. But before she could turn back to her friend, she threatened.

“I go show this girl today say me and her no dey the same category,” Oge hurried out of the class, her friend followed suit leaving the 3 others in the class.

“You self, your mouth no dey rest? Shey na every prick wey your to`to see e dey collect? Must your mouth say all they see? Arh ahn!!!” one of the ladies attacked Radio Nigeria.

“Wetin come concern you with that one? Abi na me talk say make you no get mouth to talk?” She retorted, hissed and walked out of the class.

“Hmmm hmmm! Wetin dis girl go still cause for this school, her head no go fit carry am,” another girl put in. She sat back on the floor, head between her friend’s lap as she continued to get her hair loosened.

To Be Continued…

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Love, Lust And Lost - Season 1 Episode 68

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