Fiction Series

The Secret Life Of A Naija Runs Girl 7

From Last Time

 

code-of-silence

 

 

 

It was one thing to be pregnant and single, but an entirely different situation if that pregnancy was for your friend’s father. Nneka was no saint, but she didn’t deserve this, not from me, not after she helped me leave poverty. But how was I to know? Someone had to take the blame and unfortunately, I was best positioned. Maybe if I didn’t panic the day she found me on her father’s bed, forgetting to take my pills, I wouldn’t have gotten into this whole pregnancy problem.

Abortion was not an option. The night Baba initiated me into the spiritual pact, he warned me specifically about it. He told me never to take anyone’s life in any way.

But “Warri no dey carry last”; as a sharp Delta girl I had to find a way out of the tunnel. My life was just getting started and I was not going to let anyone’s spoil my blues. I braced up and started thinking of what to do to turn around my misfortune. A glass of juice in my hand, legs crossed and wiggling as my eye went dim like I was about to initiate a major offensive against a notorious terrorist group. It took a while, but eventually the perfect plan can calling and I answered.

The only way I could carry the pregnancy was if I got a man who would accept responsibility of it and maybe marry me. The only two names that echoed in my mind were: Tunde and Alhaji Jibrin (the real estate tycoon). Tunde would not marry me, there was no need fooling myself. He had knowledge of all I did and he was in a serious relationship. Aside, that he was not just settled; he couldn’t be a father in 9 months.

Alhaji, on the other hand, was best suited to take up the job. He was very comfortable and stable, and even though he had two wives, he could still marry me- he was a Muslim. This was not my ideal ending, but a girl had to do what she had to do to survive. I didn’t like licking wounds.

So, I scheduled a meeting with Alhaji Jibrin for Thursday evening. He was in Lagos for a brief engagement and I knew he needed a woman to cool off. I had to treat him right in every way so he’ll know I was wife material. Time check, 6:00pm and I got a call telling me he was already on Ozumba Mbadiwe Road, that is barely 10 minutes from my apartment – or do I say ‘his apartment’. Dinner? Check! Bed?  Check! Anklet? Check! Okay Jibrin, I’m ready for you, let’s head to cloud 9.

“My ‘frincess, how are you doing?” He said as he walked through the door with arms wide open and all 32 teeth out in preparation for a big hug. “Yowah!…. It’s been a while. Always looking good Walahi, always”, he let go of my body for the couch.

He was impressed with what I made of his apartment from all he saw in the living room. After a little talk, I went on to invite him for dinner which was already served on my mini dining table. He queried if I indeed cooked the meal, and I answered positively with all delight. So he took a bowl and dished three pieces of beef in sauce and took it back to the couch where he sat with his feet up on it too, rubbing his legs as he ate. I got closer to him and soon, we were in the bedroom touching each other…

Culled from The Bug Campus Magazine

Photo credit: http://www.rolereboot.org

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