As it opened, Nasra sneaked her face in.
"Didn’t I say ‘No calls’?” Jezebel’s voice rasped right away.
"Sorry, Madame, it’s your father,” In a little shaky voice, Nasra explained. “He said he tried your mobile and it’s not reachable.”
"Eish! What does he want?" Asked Jezebel, and quickly conceded "Ok. But after that…no one else!"
"Yes Madame.” The secretary ran her eyes quickly at Elijah whom had now moved on to the glass walls and stood there, awkwardly staring outside,
his back at the two young women. She could smell and read the map. She spoke to her Boss in a very
polite manner, “Madam, is it alright if I leave for the day…? Tomorrow we start fasting Ramaddan...”
"That’s fine, Nasra." Jezebel said, dragging herself up to pick her extension line. "Vunja jungu eeh?"
She added with a weak smile.
"Yes Madame, umejuaje?" Responded Nasra, in a slight giggle. She closed the door behind her and disappeared.
With Jezebel talking to her old man, Elijah, still taking rips on a burning joint, drew off his cell phone and dialed his wife’s number. From the glass walls he could see it was getting dusky and definitely he would get home late. "Hi darling… Yeah, I’m ok…. Oh, you won’t like to hear about my
day... heeeectic..! Oh really? I’m so glad then…Oh honey, I could feel that, so sorry. But I’ve got a great idea about that. And by the time tomorrow
comes all will be history... uh-huh …of course, of course…Still in the office, yeah. But I’ll be out in half an hour or so… Oh c’mon sweetheart, do I
sound drunk, really...? Don't be jealous baby, hahaaa..! Yeah, alone, yeah...you know me…Ok, go
ahead, I’ll be there in an hour or--" That's when it happened. Before he knew it, a hand came off his
back and forcefully snapped his cellphone. Jezebel had caught him off-guard. In that instant he was speechless! He didn’t know, with the phone in her hands, what Jezebel’s next move was. She gave only one angry stare at it and quickly zeroed herself on him. And to his amazement she slipped the phone inside his jacket's pocket. There was no
chance for his recovery. She clasped his static body in her arms. "Let’s get down to business, stud."
"Jazzy, wait!" Another awkward protest as Elijah tried to jerk back. Jezebel had managed to take off
his fitting jacket, up to his hands.
“Wait a second, oh, wai--” His hands now tagged behind his back, he lost balance and knocked his foot on a side table. And as he tried to grab her for support, Jezebel pushed him recklessly and landed him on the sofa. She climbed right on top of him before he could react against.
"No, no. Jazzy… No!" He tried to push her off him, but her arms pressed down hard, around his shoulder blades. Her naturally-long fingernails dug him in. "I know what you want, baby." She spoke confidently, gyrating her fat hips with her tongue.
She eased her miniskirt over her naked buttocks before her hand reached down in between her legs.
She touched herself a few times then trailed her fingers right up and across his lips, under his nose.
He could smell the strong, musky scent of her sex. "Hmmmm!" He groaned wildly. She bent her head down and pressed her glossy lips, tightly onto his. She kissed him roughly, herself groaning. Her lips traveled down his jaw line and pressed into the hollow under his ear.
"And guess what," She whispered, hot marijuana breath warmed his skin. "Not there tonight, baby. She
wants it in the ass. She wants you to bang her bootee, hard!" That said, her lips roamed lower and, without warning she bit the side of his neck.
He growled and let his lips part. She used that opportunity to push her eager tongue between his teeth and let it play with his. His tongue pushed
back and she let him explore every contour of her mouth. The mixture of wine and marijuana in their mouths killed him. His kisses became responsively aggressive. A little moan escaped in the back of her throat, exciting him more. They kissed fiercely, unable to let go of each other.
Few minutes later, she pulled herself back, detached from his grip. She unbuttoned halfway of her sleeveless-top. "Oh, Shit!" He mumbled when
he saw her explosively enhanced breasts, halfway uncapped in a bra. With an evil smile, Jezebel said,
"Baby, some things never change,” She bent down and kissed him, eagerly. “And some things just get
better with time…"
His hands ran over her mini-skirt, moving around her rear. He was responding to her seizure."Oh,
Jazzy, c’mon…"
"Remember all the things we did, huh?” She murmured the warmth air on his neck. “Remember?”
"Damn… yeah, I do." His breathing got stronger. “But--”
"Things nobody knows about you, but only me," She said, herself breathing faster on him. "Our little sweet secrets…" She kissed him few more times before she stopped and unceremoniously unfastened his shirt buttons. He tried to push her back to no avail. She was already onto his nipples. She bite one, almost chopping it off. Elijah groaned heavily, in a pleasurable pain.
"Mm-mm, just lie down and let me take you, right?"
Her normally white eyes turned bloody red, with desire. She moved her right hand down in between their legs, this time onto his crotch. She rubbed him a few times "Oooh, God! You've got all the powers I need..."
"No no no no nooo…" He tried to take her hand off him. His nipples became stiffer. She saw them. She followed them again and sucked them. Elijah
rumbled. His pecs rippled. I got you...Jezebel thought, satisfaction all over her sexual face.
Quickly she slipped underneath him. "You've got something I dearly want…" She unzipped his pants. And in a flash, his hardness sprung out...
"No, Jazzy. noooo!" He snapped. She grabbed it. She squeezed. Then she caressed it, all the way up, and down. Elijah grabbed her head, trying to stop her from going there. He knew her baddest habit. Call it 'addiction.' "Ooh…ooh. Goddamnit, No!"
"Don’t stop me…Come on…don’t!” She was getting mad and his attempts were baring no fruits. He
knew her so well, especially when she became that way...you better get out of her way or else...
"Oh, noo-oh-nooo…" He was melting.
"Quiet! Who said I’m going to bite, huh?" She spat heavily on his hood, before she ran her hand up and all the way down the trunk. "Let me do
whatever I want, for a night. You'll get back to your lazy wife afterwards!"
"Damn you, Jezeb--" She slapped him hard in the face. He cried out heavily.
"I said quiet! Lie back there and let me be the boss. Right? Right?"
"Shit!"
"Answer me!” She took a burning joint from the ashtray and pressed it right onto his hardened, left nipple.
"Aaaarrrghhh! Stop! Stop!" He groaned out in pain.
She grabbed and pressed on his shoulders before he was able to react, and pushed him back down.
"Just be a good boy! Just be a good boy and all will be alright! Okay?"
"Oh, bitch!"
"I said…?" She barked at him.
"Ok! Ok! Fine! Shit!" He responded quickly and felt her mouth taking him right there and deep inside her mouth. He let out a loud, throaty groan. She knew all his weak sides and she was not gonna give him a chance.
“Oh noo, wait…please, wait…‛ He fought back weakly.
She released her mouth grip on him. “Hush-hush, baby, what?” She ran her fore finger over his lips and dipped it inside his mouth teasing him. “Look, nobody has to know. Nobody gets hurt, huh?”
“Oh, my…!” He was slipping off his mind as he felt her getting back on him. She was taking more and
more of him, burying him deep. “No honey, don’t… oh, shit!”
The warmth and the feeling were undeniably evil. He collected the last energy he had, pulled her face from him, and managed to forge his way off the sofa. Panting, he stood up and grabbed her. “What do you want, bitch? What do you want?” He kissed
her, rough. He threw away his suit jacket. The beast in him roared.
“C’mon, do it.” She challenged. “Is that what you want huh?”
“Mh-huh.”
He grabbed her. He ripped off her bra and threw it away. Her boobs popped out, violently. He was all over them. Lustfully, he scooped one into his mouth. He sucked it, hard, while caressing the other. He pinched the thickness of her nipple. She threw her head back and gasped, a small moan
escaping from the back of her throat with each suckling. Her back arched in a rainbow. She thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest. He licked his way up her collar bones and her neck, stopping at her lips and kissing her passionately, groaning quietly. His tongue traveled the shape of her lips, making her heart race even faster. His lips shifted down to her left ear, biting on her lobe, lightly.
“Oh God!” Her moans got so high pitched and their breaths got faster, shallow. He lifted her, took her in his hands, and carried her up to her desk. He placed her on top of it. He spread her legs. He ripped off her damp, white string and run it across
his big nose. It's sharp odor made his mind jolt.
"Oh, shit!"
"Oooh-oooh, baby, thug me!"
His left hand slid down her rib cage, curved around her hip, down her inner thigh and stopped there. She couldn't breathe. She moaned his old a.k.a, urging him, "Touch me!" Her arm moved down and grabbed his forearm, demanding.
He stared down at her face. She stared back and saw exactly the animal she was looking for. "Oh, bastard, touch me, touch me." She made out between short breaths. And when she felt couple of his fingers passing through her oozing slit, Jezebel let out a surprised moan of which he breathed in with a muffled gasp. She fought to contain herself,
partly embarrassed that her body was on verge of premature release.
"Oooh, I want you, in my ass!" She screamed.
"No!" Elijah said, but couldn’t stop doing what he was doing to her.
"Tell me, you did miss it. You did miss it, huh?" And in a surprisingly-quick motion, she pushed him off her. "Wait!" She snapped, sliding her legs down. She turned around and bent over the desk, spreading her legs wide. His eyeballs flashed by that crab tattoo on her lower back. "Damn you,
Jezebel!" His rumbling came out so huskily, his lips sagged at the sight of Jezebel, now on all fours with nothing left inhibited.
Her package staring right at him, Jezebel ran her fingers tantalizingly over a cascading tail-fan of gemstone-beads that surrounded her shapely
waist, before she spread her cheeks so wide apart, he could see the pleasure prize. Elijah flinched. His
nature muscled up. His face moved forth and under, drugging himself of her erotic sweatiness.
"Oh, shit!" He remarked, his eyes lost at her centroid. His fingers changed lanes.
"Oh, yeah…yeah…touch me. Touch my pooper!" She commanded, insistently. "Oh yeah, how is it? Aaasshhh!" Her chest was so low that her boobs
were pressing on her scattered files and stuff. Her hands scrapped restlessly and hit her laptop, which
slid off the desk. But He saw it. He placed his leg of which to fall on top. The laptop hit him, before it slid down the carpeted floor. She was groaning
carelessly around his fingering, her moans became louder and more intense with his movements.
Elijah drew his fingers out of her. He pushed his pants further lower, letting them slid their way down the ankles. He got hold of her waist. He moved forth, slightly touching her rear slit with his enormous hood. He stopped there. "Damn, I can’t do this!"
"Now!" She commanded, spreading her bootee lips further apart. "I want you, now!"
"I’m not gonna do this." His heart wrestled with his heads. "No, I can’t."
"I want you…get inside me." She grabbed his manhood. She was getting mad. "I say do it, bastard!"
"Goddamn it. No!" His body detached from hers.
Yet she still had him in her hand.
"Don't stop. You just can’t stop!" She turned around. She was fumbling with his body.
"No! Oh shit! No!" He tried.
"C'mon, I know you want my ass! Oh yeah, I know. Now, take it bastard. Take it!"
"Gosh!" He was overwhelmed. "Fuck you, Jezebel!"
He pushed her over the desk, laid her on her back. He swept her legs up and spread them wide apart. He lowered his face and spat, twice.
"Yeah, fuck me! You missed it…you always do... Oh-h-shh!" She taunted hysterically as she felt him
taking her legs further forth, they almost crossed with her shoulders. "Oooh! Oooh!"
His hardness barely had kissed her forbidden fruit, when something happened...
Lights went off, and the generator failed to pick up instantly. Everything stopped. The place became so dark they couldn’t see each other. With a little moral energy and strength left with him, Elijah detached his lower body from hers.
“Whuaat?” She screamed, fumbling with his hand in darkness. He pulled himself strongly, off the desk and moved further away.
“You stick your dick in my mouth then you don’t want to--?” She blurted. And in a vain effort to get hold of him, Jezebel sprawled across the desk.
Missing the edge of it for support, her body sprung all the way to the floor. She let out a sharp, agonizing cry. Sprawled across the floor, she tried
to say something, but nothing came out. She was breathing so heavily, matching his breathing that had by itself become erratic and too audible.
Half dressed-up, Elijah struggled to find back his suit jacket, and his cellphone.
“What happened to you?” She said, on her knees, collecting herself up.. “You never used to be this way.”
“My wife has moved back in. I can’t mess with her anymore.”
“Your wife made you stupid!”
He didn’t bother to respond. He kept on searching for the jacket, which he got hold of, a minute later. He paced on the direction of main door. But before he touched it, power came back and lights went on.
She saw him. "You son of a bitch!" She barked. "Get back here and finish what you’ve started!"
He didn’t turn back. He was opening the door now.
"You hear me?" She was shouting hopelessly, following him outside her office. She saw him rushing down the stairs. “I say come back and finish what you started or else you are--”
He turned around. "You get back inside there and get dressed," He shouted back at her. "Look at you!"
She stopped and stared down at herself. "Oooh my!" Her upper body was nude. She was standing
at the stairhead, watching him hopelessly, as he disappeared downstairs. “You hear me, coward?”
She shouted across, her voice was that of a violent uncontrollable anger. “You are fucking dead!”
____________________________________
Bwire Amos © 2012
Sunday, 29 July 2012
Thursday, 26 July 2012
WHO THE HELL IS MR RIGHT???
I've been made to believe since my teen years that there's a Mr Right for me. Someone who will waltz into my life and sweep me off my feet. Someone who won't flinch if I fart loudly in public because he is my Mr Right. Someone who would help me build my dreams and also make it a reality. Someone who wouldn't care if I cry like Goldie whenever I miss Big Brother Africa Eviction show on TV. Someone who will totally accept me for who I am.
(Wait a minute! Accept me for who I am???)
I have been living in this castle for (God-knows-how-long) years, waiting for my shining Knight to come set me free. I'm in my mid-twenties and there is still no sign of Mr. Right. (Screaming) Who the hell is he???
Quite a number of men have swam into my life; some I wish I had never dated, some I wish things were different. It seems there is always something holding each of them back from being Mr. Right.
If I could remember vividly what they told me back then, Mt Right was supposed to be someone who is Perfect for me, who don't see my flaws, who will make my bed in the morning while I jam to some P-square or Wizkid hits.
(Wait a minute...let me go through my ex list and see if any one of them had done such for me)
Naaa... None of them (are you sure???)
Yea...damn sure. They all come with their flaws. And with time, even the perfectly hidden ones begin to crawl out of their shell.
It's so damn hard to find Mr Right when young men of nowadays just want to get the booty. And even those who claim to be faithful, jeez...you should check them out in the closet. They are hypocritical!!! It's either you aint doing this right or what others think you should do right!
(Readers are advised not to take the above outrage personally)
Btw, how do I get to know Mr. Right? Is he gonna come dressed up in a white armour or should I expect just a slob?
Is he gonna have a deep sexy voice or a shrill kinda voice?( I hope not the latter)
Is he gonna be rich and famous or just an ordinary guy you pass by on the street?
Is he gonna be a charmer or just that guy who sits by the corner in a gathering with a creepy smile on his face?
Is he gonna be a good dancer or one who just taps his feet and calls it his customised Azonto?
Is he gonna be a fluent speaker or do I need to shush his mouth each time he tries to speak to save myself from embarrassment?
Is he gonna be a good kisser or someone who laps his tongue all over my face like a dog?
Is he gonna be an American, Spanish, European, Asian or an African?
Is he gonna be the one who will cuddle after a steamy sex or doze off after he climaxes?
Is he gonna be any of these? Is he???
But what if he is not what the movies, books and our parents made us believe he is?
What if he is just that lame boyfriend of yours who you can't imagine hanging out with?
What if he is just an ordinary guy, nothing spectacular or dazzling?
What if he is not supposed to be dressed in all that shiny armour, maybe just some drab second-hand clothes?
What if he is not that PERFECT, maybe just a human being with flaws like you?
What if you are not yet RIGHT to be with Mr. Right?
Whoever Mr Right is, I feel so sorry for him because he sure got tons of work to do. He's sure going to make all my fantasies a reality.
I have so many expectations of Mr Right, I just pray he can handle the pressure cos I'm going to make him work. He has to pay for all the years I have spent waiting for him.
There are so many things I want him to do for me. Like he should be able to give me access to his bank account without hesitation, maybe put me as his first priority in life. In fact, he should make me feel like the only girl in the world (clasped hands together...day dreaming).
While we ladies are busy trying to figure out who Mr. Right is, we should also evaluate ourselves. Are we really ready to meet Mr Right? Is Mr Right seeing us as his damsel in distress or are we just another Cinderella's step-sisters he has to shove out of his way?
Maybe I've met Mr. Right without knowing it. Maybe I've been consumed with my expectations of him and failed to pay heed to his expectations of me. Maybe he is still out there waiting for me to really need him.
Whoever you are Mr. Right, I'm ready to meet you...my clock is ticking and it ain't funny anymore....
(Wait a minute! Accept me for who I am???)
I have been living in this castle for (God-knows-how-long) years, waiting for my shining Knight to come set me free. I'm in my mid-twenties and there is still no sign of Mr. Right. (Screaming) Who the hell is he???
Quite a number of men have swam into my life; some I wish I had never dated, some I wish things were different. It seems there is always something holding each of them back from being Mr. Right.
If I could remember vividly what they told me back then, Mt Right was supposed to be someone who is Perfect for me, who don't see my flaws, who will make my bed in the morning while I jam to some P-square or Wizkid hits.
(Wait a minute...let me go through my ex list and see if any one of them had done such for me)
Naaa... None of them (are you sure???)
Yea...damn sure. They all come with their flaws. And with time, even the perfectly hidden ones begin to crawl out of their shell.
It's so damn hard to find Mr Right when young men of nowadays just want to get the booty. And even those who claim to be faithful, jeez...you should check them out in the closet. They are hypocritical!!! It's either you aint doing this right or what others think you should do right!
(Readers are advised not to take the above outrage personally)
Btw, how do I get to know Mr. Right? Is he gonna come dressed up in a white armour or should I expect just a slob?
Is he gonna have a deep sexy voice or a shrill kinda voice?( I hope not the latter)
Is he gonna be rich and famous or just an ordinary guy you pass by on the street?
Is he gonna be a charmer or just that guy who sits by the corner in a gathering with a creepy smile on his face?
Is he gonna be a good dancer or one who just taps his feet and calls it his customised Azonto?
Is he gonna be a fluent speaker or do I need to shush his mouth each time he tries to speak to save myself from embarrassment?
Is he gonna be a good kisser or someone who laps his tongue all over my face like a dog?
Is he gonna be an American, Spanish, European, Asian or an African?
Is he gonna be the one who will cuddle after a steamy sex or doze off after he climaxes?
Is he gonna be any of these? Is he???
But what if he is not what the movies, books and our parents made us believe he is?
What if he is just that lame boyfriend of yours who you can't imagine hanging out with?
What if he is just an ordinary guy, nothing spectacular or dazzling?
What if he is not supposed to be dressed in all that shiny armour, maybe just some drab second-hand clothes?
What if he is not that PERFECT, maybe just a human being with flaws like you?
What if you are not yet RIGHT to be with Mr. Right?
Whoever Mr Right is, I feel so sorry for him because he sure got tons of work to do. He's sure going to make all my fantasies a reality.
I have so many expectations of Mr Right, I just pray he can handle the pressure cos I'm going to make him work. He has to pay for all the years I have spent waiting for him.
There are so many things I want him to do for me. Like he should be able to give me access to his bank account without hesitation, maybe put me as his first priority in life. In fact, he should make me feel like the only girl in the world (clasped hands together...day dreaming).
While we ladies are busy trying to figure out who Mr. Right is, we should also evaluate ourselves. Are we really ready to meet Mr Right? Is Mr Right seeing us as his damsel in distress or are we just another Cinderella's step-sisters he has to shove out of his way?
Maybe I've met Mr. Right without knowing it. Maybe I've been consumed with my expectations of him and failed to pay heed to his expectations of me. Maybe he is still out there waiting for me to really need him.
Whoever you are Mr. Right, I'm ready to meet you...my clock is ticking and it ain't funny anymore....
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Rihanna saved me...
I saw this tweet last night on Rihanna's TL on Twitter and I couldn't help but retweet it...
"Heavenly father I trust you, even if it doesn't feel good, even if it doesn't look right!"
Before I logged on to Twitter, I was in a sour mood. Someone got me really upset and this sprang up other disappointment and hurt I have been going through lately. I felt like throwing in the towel. It was like every effort I made have been thwarted by God-knows-who.
I felt dejected, hopeless and overwhelmed by a strong wave of doubt. I began to wonder if there was a God out there. Was He really listening to my prayers? Or has some Grinch hijacked my prayers and sent it to hell instead?
Where were all the beautiful promises He made to me? Why are my dreams not coming true?
Out of frustration, I logged on to Twitter and came across this lovely message on Rihanna's TL:
"Heavenly father I trust you, even if it doesn't feel good, even if it doesn't look right..."
Wow! That was a humble prayer and a very strong one too. That was faith staring back at me. Where is my faith? Why have I allowed doubt and fear to fill my heart?
There's a point in life when we get choked up by our problems. When everything seem static. It's like you are surrounded by one problem or the other. If you move to your left, there seems to be a financial block waving "hieeey" to us. If you move to the right, an emotional block is throwing those little rocks of rejection, hate, hopelessness at us. It seems there is no way out. And you are gradually crumbling, sinking, drowning in the sea of endless problems.
At this point, faith is so hard to achieve. When our prayers are unanswered, we lose faith and give in to doubt. We no longer trust in God to save us from our mess.
But it's times like this that God wants us to trust in Him. To let him take the wheels, to let him lead us while we follow, to let him work in His own way.
We are always eager to do things in OUR own way and time. We have to learn how to let God do things HIS own way and time.
When things are rosy or going as planned, it's so easy to say "God, I trust in you."
But when nothing is working out, it's a different story. But all that has to stop.
You don't have to give up because he's been silent. You have to push on, despite the ups and downs, despite the temptations, the disappointments, the failures, the tears and heartbreaks. You have to be willing enough to let him guide you, to trust in him to see you through, to believe in his word that he who has started a good work in you will complete it...(Phillipians 1:6)
Are you worried today? Do you feel like all your efforts to achieve a dream is not working? Do you feel bad that all your friends got all the latest gadgets and wears and you have none? Does it look like what you are doing now will not work out for you? Do you feel you are praying in vain that God is not listening to you? Do you feel like giving up?
Don't!!!
God is there, right there with you. He is planning your breakthrough. His silence doesn't mean nonchalance.
He cares about you. All you have to do is TRUST!!!
Trust in him, have faith in him. And you will live to declare the marvellous work in his life.
Rihanna may not know this but that humble tweet of hers gave me a ray of hope, an upliftment in my spirit, an inspiration. I'm grateful to God for using her tweet to speak to me.
And I hope it does the same for you.
Have a blessed day!!!
"Heavenly father I trust you, even if it doesn't feel good, even if it doesn't look right!"
Before I logged on to Twitter, I was in a sour mood. Someone got me really upset and this sprang up other disappointment and hurt I have been going through lately. I felt like throwing in the towel. It was like every effort I made have been thwarted by God-knows-who.
I felt dejected, hopeless and overwhelmed by a strong wave of doubt. I began to wonder if there was a God out there. Was He really listening to my prayers? Or has some Grinch hijacked my prayers and sent it to hell instead?
Where were all the beautiful promises He made to me? Why are my dreams not coming true?
Out of frustration, I logged on to Twitter and came across this lovely message on Rihanna's TL:
"Heavenly father I trust you, even if it doesn't feel good, even if it doesn't look right..."
Wow! That was a humble prayer and a very strong one too. That was faith staring back at me. Where is my faith? Why have I allowed doubt and fear to fill my heart?
There's a point in life when we get choked up by our problems. When everything seem static. It's like you are surrounded by one problem or the other. If you move to your left, there seems to be a financial block waving "hieeey" to us. If you move to the right, an emotional block is throwing those little rocks of rejection, hate, hopelessness at us. It seems there is no way out. And you are gradually crumbling, sinking, drowning in the sea of endless problems.
At this point, faith is so hard to achieve. When our prayers are unanswered, we lose faith and give in to doubt. We no longer trust in God to save us from our mess.
But it's times like this that God wants us to trust in Him. To let him take the wheels, to let him lead us while we follow, to let him work in His own way.
We are always eager to do things in OUR own way and time. We have to learn how to let God do things HIS own way and time.
When things are rosy or going as planned, it's so easy to say "God, I trust in you."
But when nothing is working out, it's a different story. But all that has to stop.
You don't have to give up because he's been silent. You have to push on, despite the ups and downs, despite the temptations, the disappointments, the failures, the tears and heartbreaks. You have to be willing enough to let him guide you, to trust in him to see you through, to believe in his word that he who has started a good work in you will complete it...(Phillipians 1:6)
Are you worried today? Do you feel like all your efforts to achieve a dream is not working? Do you feel bad that all your friends got all the latest gadgets and wears and you have none? Does it look like what you are doing now will not work out for you? Do you feel you are praying in vain that God is not listening to you? Do you feel like giving up?
Don't!!!
God is there, right there with you. He is planning your breakthrough. His silence doesn't mean nonchalance.
He cares about you. All you have to do is TRUST!!!
Trust in him, have faith in him. And you will live to declare the marvellous work in his life.
Rihanna may not know this but that humble tweet of hers gave me a ray of hope, an upliftment in my spirit, an inspiration. I'm grateful to God for using her tweet to speak to me.
And I hope it does the same for you.
Have a blessed day!!!
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Sunday Read: FIGHTING JEZEBEL by Amos Bwire
When it comes to writing sexy romantic fiction, no one does it better like my Tanzanian friend, Amos Bwire. He never cease to amaze me with his stories. From its well-detailed plotting to the witty remarks and use of sultry expressions, Bwire is bound to get u hooked on your PC, laptop or mobile phone.
Just read this recent piece of his and I couldn't resist the urge to share it here.
Just for your Sunday; read and enjoy "Fighting Jezebel"
“I have won the tender!”
“What?" Remarked Elijah. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. I’m not kidding." Her voice overly excited. "My company has won it. I’ve won it!”
“Oh, what a great news! Congratula--”
“Oh c’mon…you are not that bad, Eli." She interrupted, her voice too sly. "I thought it would be a better idea if you'd drop by my office tonight
and, tell me that, face to face…”
“Well, I wish I could. But, you know I can’t.” His voice was lowered.
“Eish! Don’t tell me you’re still scared of me!”
Last time the two met in person, was almost two years ago, and she was the last person Elijah could be comfortable of meeting again. “Jazzy, you know I’m not scared of you…but you also know I can’t take the risk...”
A treacherous laugh heard from her end. “See? That's what I'm talking...coward!”
“Whatever, man. I just can’t be seen with you again. I vowed that to my wife. I can't break the--”
“Oh, really? So are you telling me that you want to see me but you are just afraid of your wife! Ololol!"
“Jazzy--!”
“Jazzy what?" She barked. "I just wanted to celebrate my best day of the year, with you, and you tell me you--”
“Hey listen--” Elijah was getting irritated.
“Four o’clock sharp…in my office, or else take a good care of your coward-self, Mr. Ciaoooo!” That said, her end of the line went off.
“Bitch! Who the hell does she think she is?” Elijah cried out to himself. And why does she hang up the
phone on me like that! He thought. His mood got restless...
___________________
Her wall clock read 4:45pm. There was no sign of him coming.
Pacing around her elegant office, Jezebel- a Group CEO at her father’s multinational construction Company- was getting nervous. I must have
infuriated him. Why did I...? Stupid!
Thirty minutes later and she was done. Angrily, she seized her handbag and was storming outside her office when her cellphone rang. She felt a thud off her chest. She fumbled with her Galaxy S3, almost
letting it slip off her hand.
“Where are you?” She shouted over the line without even checking on a caller ID.
“Hi Boss!” To her dismay, it was Othman, a Project Manager in her Nairobi branch. He called in to congratulate her. Jezebel had to apologize, desperately making up a story to brush off her gaffe. And while still online with Othman, her extension line rang.
“Hold on for a second, Othman! Have to pick this call…” She put down her
mobile and was on her extension line. It was Nasra, her PS, calling in to tell her that she had a male visitor. Jezebel responded, quickly, “Show him right through in, please!”
Then she picked back her mobile as the door opened and Elijah stormed inside.
As soon as she saw him, there was a momentous miscommunication between her upper and lower body. She whispered at him “Have a seat please!”
Elijah strolled past her wide-U executive-desk and to the Ola Sofa, far left of the spacious room. Beside
the sofa, placed a small bucket of ice and inside it was a sealed bottle of expensive white wine. There was a pair of tulip-shaped glasses beside the bucket. Elijah stood there for a moment, staring at the bucket. Shaking his head, he walked over and
to the glass walls. There he rolled the venetian blinds, wide open. He thrust his hands in his trousers’ pockets as his eyes surveyed down a congested Samora Avenue.
“So glad that you’ve made it…but you’re late!”
Jezebel said, approaching where he was standing. “Anyway, come give me a hug!"
Elijah turned his chiseled frame around and met with her embrace. Nothing would disturb him more
than being squeezed against Jezebel’s bosom. She gave him a tight hug and then held him at arm’s length, giving him an appraising look. "Is it raining
outside?" She asked as she spotted few rainy spots over his suit jacket.
"You know Dar weather, so unpredictable..."
"You should take it off and get dried--"
"Oh, no. Not now. Later." He protested. “And where did you get that?” He asked, his finger pointing at
the bottle of wine, trying to avoid any more confrontation with her. “I’ve looked all over the place for it, five days ago, and couldn’t get one.”
Jezebel ignored the question. Instead, she stared right at his face before she said, “You kept yourself in good shape, stud. Nice…hard.”
He forced a grin. “Thank you. You look fabulous too!" He meant it.
“Always!” Jezebel concluded. There was an abrupt mutual laugh. “Well, I've been working out for over a year now. Since the time you threw me off the window, I haven't really felt like going out and being around people, you know. So working out has been the only thing that gives me an excuse to get out of the house at night, without really requiring me to talk to anybody."
“But I didn’t throw you off the--"
"Yes, you did!"
"See, circumstances could no more allow us to--”
“I said you did!" Behind her coyly smile there was hidden emotions.
"Actually you did more than just
that!”
“C’mon, Jazzy, are we here to talk about that?”
“Oh, ok. Mr. Faithful Husband. Done.” And with that, she took off her fuchsia suit jacket and threw it on the sofa.
For a moment, Elijah stared at her. He didn’t like what he saw. “You didn’t answer my question...”
“Hum? Which question?” She rolled her eyes deceptively and saw him pointing at the bucket.
She bent over the table and picked the opener.
“Oh, okay! See, I like my boy to be happy," She quipped with a confident smile. "Go ahead, open it.”
He shrugged before he took the opener from her and opened the bottle. He poured in and handled a
glass to her. Seconds later, the two shared a toast.
“To your envious success!”
“Thanks honey. You know, the competition was so high. I’m glad I have won it.”
“You’re extraordinary smart…so relentless. I envy you for that.”
“Oh, don’t hype me, stud. I’m so ordinary…just one lucky woman.” She moved on to the sofa and her
hand gestured for him to come and seat beside me.
He did so. “Tell me, how did you make it happen?”
She summarized that whole tender process to him.
“Wow! You’re a dangerous lobbyist!” Elijah credited her as soon as she was done.
“Well, honey,” Jezebel blushed. “It takes 'some money' to make 'a lot of money.' Isn't it?”
"True that. True." Elijah said in agreement. "So, what's the plan?" He asked, less because he was curious, than because it gave his hopeless-self
something to say, and the wine had soon warmed the company.
"A Plan?" Her hypnotic eyes stared intently at him.
"Mh-huh! How do you plan to celebrate this?"
"Any idea in one of your big heads, stud?" She teased him in return.
"Oh, c'mon! I was just asking.”
"Oh, ok, ok. Just dinner with you, I guess," She said, brushing back a long strand of her naturally-dark dreadlocks, trapping it behind her ear. "Then Ifigured we'd have a drink and just talk a bit. I feel lonely. For over a year I haven’t really been out
much, seriously. I need to open up a bit."
Elijah smelt trouble…a serious trouble. “Oh! But you know, I shouldn’t ever be part of such plan."
“Are you sure?”
“Dead sure.”
“I see...” She conceded, nodding her head. A short silence followed, then she suddenly said, “Let's smoke some pot! I had some tacked in somewhere
here…Wait!" Simultaneously, she moved out and away from the sofa.
"A weed?" Elijah seemed as surprised. "Jezebel, you still on that?"
"Yeah. Not all the times, though." She turned around and stared back at him. Seeing his stunned face, she giggled, "C'mon, I know you do, either. Don’t you?"
“Hell no. I did quit doing that, way back! She won’t even share a bed with me if she smells that shit on
me.”
“C’mon, Elijah! Be a man that I know you are.” She taunted him. “Live your life, not your wife’s!”
Wordlessly, his eyes distantly hovered over hers. Unacceptable memories rushed right inside his head. Yes, in a course of their six months infidelity,
the two did share together just about everything imaginable. Theirs was unspoken fantasy-comes-true affair spiced by recipes that could compete for a top place inside hell’s kitchen. But the price that came along with his marital disloyalty caused Elijah a couple of irreparable damages, including death to his innocent 3-years old baby girl, in a car crash.
Such unfolded reality forced Elijah to shut himself out and away from Jezebel for almost two years,until recently when the two bumped at each other coincidentally while commenting on a common
friend’s Facebook wall...that took them to the inbox, one thing led to another, up to this informal "party" meeting in her office. “But I won’t smoke,” He shook his head, watching her strutting nimbly across the room.
“That won’t change.” The mini
skirt was hugging her body and extenuated her tall form and curves. He could see her rear cheeks’ movement as she strode onto her work desk.
Although Jezebel was tall and trim, she had a full ass-set that matched extremely sinfully with her surgical-enhanced breasts.
"Come on, it'll be fun, you know." She responded, teasingly, already working out a roll. “I'll make us a smoke. Pour me some more wine…"
Now back on the sofa, her devious eyes ran all over him. Her palm rubbed across his chin. Sniffing it
back, she complained, “Man, your aftershave makes me feel intoxicated!”
Her plea suddenly awakened him from unknown stupor, "Hum?"
“Uh-huh.” Her voice became wavy.
A couple of drinking and unnecessary updates passed on. Now, halfway on their second bottle, Jezebel declared, "Lord, this is too much, I need
some satisfaction!" She outstretched her hand, offering the joint to him.
Elijah held his breath. This can't be
happening... His inner-self battled. He hadn't smoked that for all that period after he announced the end to his affair with her. It's something he had
vowed to his wife and himself, not to ever do again in this life. Now he was overly tempted at the wrongest timing of all. "No, Jezebel. I told you I
can't."
"Don't be an asshole. Take it!" Then the realization hit in with her. "Oh God, I can't believe I just said that. I'm sorry!” She blushed. She was slightly
drunk and high. He could tell by the glazed look in her eyes. Also, that particular wine always had the
effect of making Jezebel completely uninhibited.
But Elijah never imagined she would act that way inside her Five-Star office. Even worse, he could feel
his own hormones starting to bubble. He couldn't keep his eyes off the mighty jiggling pair of boobs
and her lovely, hairy legs. "Shit!" He cursed out and grabbed the joint from her hand and puffed in a long one. It choked him, prompting her to giggle.
"Have you forgotten all the sweet things, darling!
Ndoa ndoana, huh?"
Intimidated, Elijah gulped all the wine left in his glass. He took another large toak of chron.
Seeing his eyes blazing, a contented smile displayed on Jezebel's face. Now I got my bad boy back! She thought.
“Damn, I can't do this!" As if to counter her thoughts, Elijah blurted. He collected himself and stood right in front of her. “I think I have to go.”
“Whuaat?” There was alcohol confidence in her voice. “Just like that?”
“Jazzy, it’s different now. I’m fully dedicated back to Abella." His voice was heavy.
“Oh really?” Asked Jezebel, taking him less seriously. “Okay…” She outstretched her sexy hands towards him, begging, “Okay…Let’s finish
our drink, then I’ll kiss you goodbye. Right?”
He thought for a moment, then his chest heaved in a deep sigh as he moved and seat back on the sofa.
"By the way, how's she doing?" She asked, a moment later.
“Mh?” He was a little lost.
She slapped him lightly, on his lap. "You heard me, stud.”
He stared blankly at her. A mixture of marijuana and too much wine was having an obvious effect on his logical senses.
“Your fat wife! How is she doing? Isn’t she happier-than-ever now that she has taken you completely away from me?”
"Whoa! Whoa! Firstly, my wife isn’t fat, right? She's just a lovely, sexy, pure African woman..."
“Really?" She took another deep drag off the spliff. Exhaling a chunk of white smoke.
"Yeah! And she’s doing pretty well, considering fact that she’s fully recovered now. We both have left
the past behind us. Moved on--"
"Eish! Am I the past you are talking about, Sir?”
"Jezebel, see--" He tried to explain but she cut him short.
"What? Look at you," Her eyes glued on his crotch as she said, huskily. "That's 'hugely' betraying your
words, Sir."
"Oh, c'mon!" The pressure was mounting. “You don’t get it, huh?”
“No, I don’t even want to.” Her voice was druggy, and before Elijah responded, her burning, smoky mouth engulfed his, her smoke hitting his throat.
He grunted. "C’mon Jezebel! Stop it.” He protested helplessly. “Your secretary is just next doors!"
"Shhhh!"
"Five seconds’ walk to--!"
"Shhh! I own this whole building. I own eeeeeveryone who works in here!” She declared, amid her intense kisses. She laughed hysterically,
her voice partly lost in his mouth. “And we've been quicker than that before, huh?"
Forcefully, he extracted himself from her embrace. But his facial and physical expression underneath
him, betrayed him badly. Then they heard a slight knock on the door. They stared at each other. As it
opened...
To be continued...
Just read this recent piece of his and I couldn't resist the urge to share it here.
Just for your Sunday; read and enjoy "Fighting Jezebel"
“I have won the tender!”
“What?" Remarked Elijah. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. I’m not kidding." Her voice overly excited. "My company has won it. I’ve won it!”
“Oh, what a great news! Congratula--”
“Oh c’mon…you are not that bad, Eli." She interrupted, her voice too sly. "I thought it would be a better idea if you'd drop by my office tonight
and, tell me that, face to face…”
“Well, I wish I could. But, you know I can’t.” His voice was lowered.
“Eish! Don’t tell me you’re still scared of me!”
Last time the two met in person, was almost two years ago, and she was the last person Elijah could be comfortable of meeting again. “Jazzy, you know I’m not scared of you…but you also know I can’t take the risk...”
A treacherous laugh heard from her end. “See? That's what I'm talking...coward!”
“Whatever, man. I just can’t be seen with you again. I vowed that to my wife. I can't break the--”
“Oh, really? So are you telling me that you want to see me but you are just afraid of your wife! Ololol!"
“Jazzy--!”
“Jazzy what?" She barked. "I just wanted to celebrate my best day of the year, with you, and you tell me you--”
“Hey listen--” Elijah was getting irritated.
“Four o’clock sharp…in my office, or else take a good care of your coward-self, Mr. Ciaoooo!” That said, her end of the line went off.
“Bitch! Who the hell does she think she is?” Elijah cried out to himself. And why does she hang up the
phone on me like that! He thought. His mood got restless...
___________________
Her wall clock read 4:45pm. There was no sign of him coming.
Pacing around her elegant office, Jezebel- a Group CEO at her father’s multinational construction Company- was getting nervous. I must have
infuriated him. Why did I...? Stupid!
Thirty minutes later and she was done. Angrily, she seized her handbag and was storming outside her office when her cellphone rang. She felt a thud off her chest. She fumbled with her Galaxy S3, almost
letting it slip off her hand.
“Where are you?” She shouted over the line without even checking on a caller ID.
“Hi Boss!” To her dismay, it was Othman, a Project Manager in her Nairobi branch. He called in to congratulate her. Jezebel had to apologize, desperately making up a story to brush off her gaffe. And while still online with Othman, her extension line rang.
“Hold on for a second, Othman! Have to pick this call…” She put down her
mobile and was on her extension line. It was Nasra, her PS, calling in to tell her that she had a male visitor. Jezebel responded, quickly, “Show him right through in, please!”
Then she picked back her mobile as the door opened and Elijah stormed inside.
As soon as she saw him, there was a momentous miscommunication between her upper and lower body. She whispered at him “Have a seat please!”
Elijah strolled past her wide-U executive-desk and to the Ola Sofa, far left of the spacious room. Beside
the sofa, placed a small bucket of ice and inside it was a sealed bottle of expensive white wine. There was a pair of tulip-shaped glasses beside the bucket. Elijah stood there for a moment, staring at the bucket. Shaking his head, he walked over and
to the glass walls. There he rolled the venetian blinds, wide open. He thrust his hands in his trousers’ pockets as his eyes surveyed down a congested Samora Avenue.
“So glad that you’ve made it…but you’re late!”
Jezebel said, approaching where he was standing. “Anyway, come give me a hug!"
Elijah turned his chiseled frame around and met with her embrace. Nothing would disturb him more
than being squeezed against Jezebel’s bosom. She gave him a tight hug and then held him at arm’s length, giving him an appraising look. "Is it raining
outside?" She asked as she spotted few rainy spots over his suit jacket.
"You know Dar weather, so unpredictable..."
"You should take it off and get dried--"
"Oh, no. Not now. Later." He protested. “And where did you get that?” He asked, his finger pointing at
the bottle of wine, trying to avoid any more confrontation with her. “I’ve looked all over the place for it, five days ago, and couldn’t get one.”
Jezebel ignored the question. Instead, she stared right at his face before she said, “You kept yourself in good shape, stud. Nice…hard.”
He forced a grin. “Thank you. You look fabulous too!" He meant it.
“Always!” Jezebel concluded. There was an abrupt mutual laugh. “Well, I've been working out for over a year now. Since the time you threw me off the window, I haven't really felt like going out and being around people, you know. So working out has been the only thing that gives me an excuse to get out of the house at night, without really requiring me to talk to anybody."
“But I didn’t throw you off the--"
"Yes, you did!"
"See, circumstances could no more allow us to--”
“I said you did!" Behind her coyly smile there was hidden emotions.
"Actually you did more than just
that!”
“C’mon, Jazzy, are we here to talk about that?”
“Oh, ok. Mr. Faithful Husband. Done.” And with that, she took off her fuchsia suit jacket and threw it on the sofa.
For a moment, Elijah stared at her. He didn’t like what he saw. “You didn’t answer my question...”
“Hum? Which question?” She rolled her eyes deceptively and saw him pointing at the bucket.
She bent over the table and picked the opener.
“Oh, okay! See, I like my boy to be happy," She quipped with a confident smile. "Go ahead, open it.”
He shrugged before he took the opener from her and opened the bottle. He poured in and handled a
glass to her. Seconds later, the two shared a toast.
“To your envious success!”
“Thanks honey. You know, the competition was so high. I’m glad I have won it.”
“You’re extraordinary smart…so relentless. I envy you for that.”
“Oh, don’t hype me, stud. I’m so ordinary…just one lucky woman.” She moved on to the sofa and her
hand gestured for him to come and seat beside me.
He did so. “Tell me, how did you make it happen?”
She summarized that whole tender process to him.
“Wow! You’re a dangerous lobbyist!” Elijah credited her as soon as she was done.
“Well, honey,” Jezebel blushed. “It takes 'some money' to make 'a lot of money.' Isn't it?”
"True that. True." Elijah said in agreement. "So, what's the plan?" He asked, less because he was curious, than because it gave his hopeless-self
something to say, and the wine had soon warmed the company.
"A Plan?" Her hypnotic eyes stared intently at him.
"Mh-huh! How do you plan to celebrate this?"
"Any idea in one of your big heads, stud?" She teased him in return.
"Oh, c'mon! I was just asking.”
"Oh, ok, ok. Just dinner with you, I guess," She said, brushing back a long strand of her naturally-dark dreadlocks, trapping it behind her ear. "Then Ifigured we'd have a drink and just talk a bit. I feel lonely. For over a year I haven’t really been out
much, seriously. I need to open up a bit."
Elijah smelt trouble…a serious trouble. “Oh! But you know, I shouldn’t ever be part of such plan."
“Are you sure?”
“Dead sure.”
“I see...” She conceded, nodding her head. A short silence followed, then she suddenly said, “Let's smoke some pot! I had some tacked in somewhere
here…Wait!" Simultaneously, she moved out and away from the sofa.
"A weed?" Elijah seemed as surprised. "Jezebel, you still on that?"
"Yeah. Not all the times, though." She turned around and stared back at him. Seeing his stunned face, she giggled, "C'mon, I know you do, either. Don’t you?"
“Hell no. I did quit doing that, way back! She won’t even share a bed with me if she smells that shit on
me.”
“C’mon, Elijah! Be a man that I know you are.” She taunted him. “Live your life, not your wife’s!”
Wordlessly, his eyes distantly hovered over hers. Unacceptable memories rushed right inside his head. Yes, in a course of their six months infidelity,
the two did share together just about everything imaginable. Theirs was unspoken fantasy-comes-true affair spiced by recipes that could compete for a top place inside hell’s kitchen. But the price that came along with his marital disloyalty caused Elijah a couple of irreparable damages, including death to his innocent 3-years old baby girl, in a car crash.
Such unfolded reality forced Elijah to shut himself out and away from Jezebel for almost two years,until recently when the two bumped at each other coincidentally while commenting on a common
friend’s Facebook wall...that took them to the inbox, one thing led to another, up to this informal "party" meeting in her office. “But I won’t smoke,” He shook his head, watching her strutting nimbly across the room.
“That won’t change.” The mini
skirt was hugging her body and extenuated her tall form and curves. He could see her rear cheeks’ movement as she strode onto her work desk.
Although Jezebel was tall and trim, she had a full ass-set that matched extremely sinfully with her surgical-enhanced breasts.
"Come on, it'll be fun, you know." She responded, teasingly, already working out a roll. “I'll make us a smoke. Pour me some more wine…"
Now back on the sofa, her devious eyes ran all over him. Her palm rubbed across his chin. Sniffing it
back, she complained, “Man, your aftershave makes me feel intoxicated!”
Her plea suddenly awakened him from unknown stupor, "Hum?"
“Uh-huh.” Her voice became wavy.
A couple of drinking and unnecessary updates passed on. Now, halfway on their second bottle, Jezebel declared, "Lord, this is too much, I need
some satisfaction!" She outstretched her hand, offering the joint to him.
Elijah held his breath. This can't be
happening... His inner-self battled. He hadn't smoked that for all that period after he announced the end to his affair with her. It's something he had
vowed to his wife and himself, not to ever do again in this life. Now he was overly tempted at the wrongest timing of all. "No, Jezebel. I told you I
can't."
"Don't be an asshole. Take it!" Then the realization hit in with her. "Oh God, I can't believe I just said that. I'm sorry!” She blushed. She was slightly
drunk and high. He could tell by the glazed look in her eyes. Also, that particular wine always had the
effect of making Jezebel completely uninhibited.
But Elijah never imagined she would act that way inside her Five-Star office. Even worse, he could feel
his own hormones starting to bubble. He couldn't keep his eyes off the mighty jiggling pair of boobs
and her lovely, hairy legs. "Shit!" He cursed out and grabbed the joint from her hand and puffed in a long one. It choked him, prompting her to giggle.
"Have you forgotten all the sweet things, darling!
Ndoa ndoana, huh?"
Intimidated, Elijah gulped all the wine left in his glass. He took another large toak of chron.
Seeing his eyes blazing, a contented smile displayed on Jezebel's face. Now I got my bad boy back! She thought.
“Damn, I can't do this!" As if to counter her thoughts, Elijah blurted. He collected himself and stood right in front of her. “I think I have to go.”
“Whuaat?” There was alcohol confidence in her voice. “Just like that?”
“Jazzy, it’s different now. I’m fully dedicated back to Abella." His voice was heavy.
“Oh really?” Asked Jezebel, taking him less seriously. “Okay…” She outstretched her sexy hands towards him, begging, “Okay…Let’s finish
our drink, then I’ll kiss you goodbye. Right?”
He thought for a moment, then his chest heaved in a deep sigh as he moved and seat back on the sofa.
"By the way, how's she doing?" She asked, a moment later.
“Mh?” He was a little lost.
She slapped him lightly, on his lap. "You heard me, stud.”
He stared blankly at her. A mixture of marijuana and too much wine was having an obvious effect on his logical senses.
“Your fat wife! How is she doing? Isn’t she happier-than-ever now that she has taken you completely away from me?”
"Whoa! Whoa! Firstly, my wife isn’t fat, right? She's just a lovely, sexy, pure African woman..."
“Really?" She took another deep drag off the spliff. Exhaling a chunk of white smoke.
"Yeah! And she’s doing pretty well, considering fact that she’s fully recovered now. We both have left
the past behind us. Moved on--"
"Eish! Am I the past you are talking about, Sir?”
"Jezebel, see--" He tried to explain but she cut him short.
"What? Look at you," Her eyes glued on his crotch as she said, huskily. "That's 'hugely' betraying your
words, Sir."
"Oh, c'mon!" The pressure was mounting. “You don’t get it, huh?”
“No, I don’t even want to.” Her voice was druggy, and before Elijah responded, her burning, smoky mouth engulfed his, her smoke hitting his throat.
He grunted. "C’mon Jezebel! Stop it.” He protested helplessly. “Your secretary is just next doors!"
"Shhhh!"
"Five seconds’ walk to--!"
"Shhh! I own this whole building. I own eeeeeveryone who works in here!” She declared, amid her intense kisses. She laughed hysterically,
her voice partly lost in his mouth. “And we've been quicker than that before, huh?"
Forcefully, he extracted himself from her embrace. But his facial and physical expression underneath
him, betrayed him badly. Then they heard a slight knock on the door. They stared at each other. As it
opened...
To be continued...
Friday, 20 July 2012
FRIDAY HEAT: Who is to blame for teenage pregnancy? The media, the society or the family?
The rate at which teenagers get pregnant these days is quite baffling. It's like every caution drummed in their ears to avoid pre-marital sex has been drowned in River Niger. You see a 15 year-old girl heavy with child and you begin to wonder if she can go through the labour pains that accompanies pregnancy.
Nowadays, it's difficult to differentiate between an adult and a teenager. Young girls are eager to dress like adults, act like adults, and be addressed as an adult. In addition, the rate at which these kids mature is alarming. Back in the 80s and early 90s, the age when a young girl can start her menstrual period was between 13-15 but in this generation, you will see a 10 year-old girl already on her menstrual period.
Does early maturity contribute to this decadent norm in the society?
What about the society? Are things put in place to provide for these kids or not?
Then we have the media which role in the society include education? Are they implementing that role efficiently? Or the social media which has provided a platform for social interaction, how has it affected our teenager's perspective generally towards lifestyle and aspirations?
Thus, the question who is to blame for teenage pregnancy? Is it that the family is not playing its role well or what?
Is the media contributing to this in any way?
Or is the society we live in encouraging these kids to engage in pre-marital sex?
What is your take on this? Let the heat begin.
Nowadays, it's difficult to differentiate between an adult and a teenager. Young girls are eager to dress like adults, act like adults, and be addressed as an adult. In addition, the rate at which these kids mature is alarming. Back in the 80s and early 90s, the age when a young girl can start her menstrual period was between 13-15 but in this generation, you will see a 10 year-old girl already on her menstrual period.
Does early maturity contribute to this decadent norm in the society?
What about the society? Are things put in place to provide for these kids or not?
Then we have the media which role in the society include education? Are they implementing that role efficiently? Or the social media which has provided a platform for social interaction, how has it affected our teenager's perspective generally towards lifestyle and aspirations?
Thus, the question who is to blame for teenage pregnancy? Is it that the family is not playing its role well or what?
Is the media contributing to this in any way?
Or is the society we live in encouraging these kids to engage in pre-marital sex?
What is your take on this? Let the heat begin.
Monday, 16 July 2012
CASANOVAS ARE BETTER LOVERS
Dear diary,
There's something about casanovas that I've not been able to wrap my finger around on. Something about the way they waltz into a woman's life and turn her brains inside out, and dance out of her life still leaving her brains inside out.
How they do it, I can't really say, irrespective of their looks or age. And whatever charm they use, it takes a long while before it rubs off.
Just like the one sitting in front of me, Tony. I knew he was a player. It wasn't hard for me to tell he was-with the gold necklace glued to his neck, sexy smile, the arrogant air that surrounds him and the sugary words that flows out of his lips-he oozes sexuality like an angry fountain.
Why I always get involved with them, I can't really tell myself. I wonder if there is a sign on my forehead that reads: "Hey all ye players, I'm up for grabs!!!"
After my painful break-up with Chris, I promised myself I will never fall in love with his kind. But here I am, on the verge of repeating same mistake.
But I have to give kudos to all casanovas out there. I don't know how they do it but they really live up to their title. From the sweet-coated words that flows out of their lips to the charming way they get you in bed, you have to give them a thumbs up for the whole acting.
It is quite weird you know how they will go through that stress of making you happy and then dump you like you never really matter to them. Just like Chris did to me...
It all started with a simple hello. Typical of me, I shrug him off. Not because I met him at a bus-stop, but I knew he was too handsome to be serious with a lady. Almost every lady at that bus stop got their eyes on him as he offered me a ride in his Toyota Corona but I just had to play hard ball, just to see how far he would go.
And he didn't disappoint me. He stalked me for days until he finally got my mobile number. Then the calls started rolling in, followed by the text messages. All through the conversation, he never implied he had any intention to take me to bed. It was just an illustration of pure love.
On our first date, he took me to Golden gate restaurant at Ikoyi. From the moment we walked in, he pulled every female in the restaurant like a magnet to us. A pang of jealousy gripped my heart and I had this fleeting thought of insecurity mixed with pride.
Here I am in a luxurious restaurant with a charming prince and all the ladies are gawking at him, green with envy as he held the seat out for me to sit, poured wine for me, even fed me the vegetable salad we ordered for.
Gosh! Is this how Cinderella felt?
Then as if he knew I needed more conviction to say yes to his proposal, he had to sweep me off my feet by ordering a florist to deliver me a bouquet of flowers every evening.
He would pay for a cab to come take me to work every morning and bring me back home in the evening. I was in heaven and soon got my close friends green with envy.
Meanwhile, Chris never gave me the impression that he wanted me in bed, neither did he kiss me for once. It was just me dying for his touch, for him to even say something like "I want you."
It was so painful watching him being so nice without having carnal thoughts about him. There was this time I was down and he had to leave work to come take me to the clinic. Then he wouldn't go home but spend the night at the clinic till I was discharged the following morning.
Now tell me, what lady wouldn't fall for such charm. Once he tried to kiss me after a date at the cinema. Though, I longed for it more than anything, I restrained, giving him my cheeks instead. If he was disappointed, he masked it very well. He just shrugged and bade me goodnight.
The calls didn't stop, neither did the shopping and other niceties. It was heaven on earth with him.
I decided to pay him a visit one evening with one mission in mind: get down with him.
As usual, he gave me a breathtaking reception, from the sumptuous fried rice and shrimps he prepared for me to the therapeutic massage he rendered to my shoulders.
As his hands massaged my shoulder blades, a warm feeling spread through my nerves, making me feel all jelly.
Then there was that magic moment when our eyes met, and all sanity was lost as we devoured each other with so much sexual frenzy.
That was the beginning of our sexual escapades. It was like we couldn't do without each other and soon, we became the latest couple in town.
A month later, Chris told me he was travelling to the East to see his parents. A week's stay turned to weeks' stay.
When he returned from the village, his countenance towards me changed drastically.
The usual excitement that accompanies our meeting became dry. He became distant and that got me really worried. I even entertained the thought that maybe I have offended him in any way.
To make matters worse, he would go on days without calling me. And when I finally call, his response was always nonchalant.
Everyone close to me noticed the signs that I was unhappy and tried to cheer me up but I won't have any of it. I was dying inside of me. I missed Chris, I missed all the attention and loving he gave to me. At nights I will sit up, reminiscing on the good times we spent. Once or twice, I was tempted to go to his place to ask him what I have done wrong but my dignity usually stopped me. I just can't let him see me as a weakling for his love.
Three weeks later, Chris showed up on my doorstep with a dozen bouquet of flowers, looking as charming as ever. He apologised for his past behaviour, blamed it on some quarrel he had with his parents.
As a lonely kitten who had missed her master terribly, I gingerly walked into his arms. And the lost love was found once again. But this time it didn't last long.
In a matter of days, Chris was back to his old self, cancelling our dates and giving me flimsy excuses.
I became dejected, I felt I was taken for a ride. I knew then that Chris was not that charming as he had initially presented himself. It was a terrible heartbreak because despite everything, I still love Chris. I still want to be held in his arms, watch him feed me, hang out anywhere with him, listen to those lovely words of love and devotion flow from his lips, make love with him all through the night till we are sated.
I wish I had the strength to confront him, to tell him how much I loved him, how willing I am to right any wrong I have ever done to him.
I was such a fool for love.
Then the call came, it was from my girlfriend telling me she just saw Chris kissing another lady in a supermarket. I didn't believe her. It was so shocking to be true. Was this the reason he had been acting strange to me lately?
I wish I had the guts to confront him but I couldn't. I knew it was better for me to ignore everything and face my future. I will lick my wounds and forge ahead.
As if that was not enough, I saw him with my two eyes kissing a lady at a bar we usually hang out. Why I even came to the bar, I can't really say, just my intuition driving me wild.
Watching the way he dazed the pretty woman in front of him with his charm, I couldn't take it anymore. All the anger I had harboured inside fought violently for a release. I walked towards them, strutting the "don't dare me" look.
If I was expecting any look of surprise from Chris, I was highly disappointed. Chris pretended like he hadn't met me before, giving me that blank look. Even had the audacity to ask me if he can help me.
Without much ado, I rained all manner of insults on him. There was no stopping me, I raved like a mad woman. Not until I was pushed away by the barman did I realise how I have disgraced myself. I cried all the way home. How I survived that night was a mystery.
The next day, he came to my office and warned me never to ever try what I did yesterday evening at the bar again. If my eyes were guns. I would have shot him repeatedly but I thanked my stars that I had recovered from his deceit and hurt. With dignity, I called the security guard to walk him out of my office with a strict order never to allow him in the premises again.
Here I am, gazing at Tony as he tried to win my heart again with his well-rehearsed words.
What do I do diary?
There's something about casanovas that I've not been able to wrap my finger around on. Something about the way they waltz into a woman's life and turn her brains inside out, and dance out of her life still leaving her brains inside out.
How they do it, I can't really say, irrespective of their looks or age. And whatever charm they use, it takes a long while before it rubs off.
Just like the one sitting in front of me, Tony. I knew he was a player. It wasn't hard for me to tell he was-with the gold necklace glued to his neck, sexy smile, the arrogant air that surrounds him and the sugary words that flows out of his lips-he oozes sexuality like an angry fountain.
Why I always get involved with them, I can't really tell myself. I wonder if there is a sign on my forehead that reads: "Hey all ye players, I'm up for grabs!!!"
After my painful break-up with Chris, I promised myself I will never fall in love with his kind. But here I am, on the verge of repeating same mistake.
But I have to give kudos to all casanovas out there. I don't know how they do it but they really live up to their title. From the sweet-coated words that flows out of their lips to the charming way they get you in bed, you have to give them a thumbs up for the whole acting.
It is quite weird you know how they will go through that stress of making you happy and then dump you like you never really matter to them. Just like Chris did to me...
It all started with a simple hello. Typical of me, I shrug him off. Not because I met him at a bus-stop, but I knew he was too handsome to be serious with a lady. Almost every lady at that bus stop got their eyes on him as he offered me a ride in his Toyota Corona but I just had to play hard ball, just to see how far he would go.
And he didn't disappoint me. He stalked me for days until he finally got my mobile number. Then the calls started rolling in, followed by the text messages. All through the conversation, he never implied he had any intention to take me to bed. It was just an illustration of pure love.
On our first date, he took me to Golden gate restaurant at Ikoyi. From the moment we walked in, he pulled every female in the restaurant like a magnet to us. A pang of jealousy gripped my heart and I had this fleeting thought of insecurity mixed with pride.
Here I am in a luxurious restaurant with a charming prince and all the ladies are gawking at him, green with envy as he held the seat out for me to sit, poured wine for me, even fed me the vegetable salad we ordered for.
Gosh! Is this how Cinderella felt?
Then as if he knew I needed more conviction to say yes to his proposal, he had to sweep me off my feet by ordering a florist to deliver me a bouquet of flowers every evening.
He would pay for a cab to come take me to work every morning and bring me back home in the evening. I was in heaven and soon got my close friends green with envy.
Meanwhile, Chris never gave me the impression that he wanted me in bed, neither did he kiss me for once. It was just me dying for his touch, for him to even say something like "I want you."
It was so painful watching him being so nice without having carnal thoughts about him. There was this time I was down and he had to leave work to come take me to the clinic. Then he wouldn't go home but spend the night at the clinic till I was discharged the following morning.
Now tell me, what lady wouldn't fall for such charm. Once he tried to kiss me after a date at the cinema. Though, I longed for it more than anything, I restrained, giving him my cheeks instead. If he was disappointed, he masked it very well. He just shrugged and bade me goodnight.
The calls didn't stop, neither did the shopping and other niceties. It was heaven on earth with him.
I decided to pay him a visit one evening with one mission in mind: get down with him.
As usual, he gave me a breathtaking reception, from the sumptuous fried rice and shrimps he prepared for me to the therapeutic massage he rendered to my shoulders.
As his hands massaged my shoulder blades, a warm feeling spread through my nerves, making me feel all jelly.
Then there was that magic moment when our eyes met, and all sanity was lost as we devoured each other with so much sexual frenzy.
That was the beginning of our sexual escapades. It was like we couldn't do without each other and soon, we became the latest couple in town.
A month later, Chris told me he was travelling to the East to see his parents. A week's stay turned to weeks' stay.
When he returned from the village, his countenance towards me changed drastically.
The usual excitement that accompanies our meeting became dry. He became distant and that got me really worried. I even entertained the thought that maybe I have offended him in any way.
To make matters worse, he would go on days without calling me. And when I finally call, his response was always nonchalant.
Everyone close to me noticed the signs that I was unhappy and tried to cheer me up but I won't have any of it. I was dying inside of me. I missed Chris, I missed all the attention and loving he gave to me. At nights I will sit up, reminiscing on the good times we spent. Once or twice, I was tempted to go to his place to ask him what I have done wrong but my dignity usually stopped me. I just can't let him see me as a weakling for his love.
Three weeks later, Chris showed up on my doorstep with a dozen bouquet of flowers, looking as charming as ever. He apologised for his past behaviour, blamed it on some quarrel he had with his parents.
As a lonely kitten who had missed her master terribly, I gingerly walked into his arms. And the lost love was found once again. But this time it didn't last long.
In a matter of days, Chris was back to his old self, cancelling our dates and giving me flimsy excuses.
I became dejected, I felt I was taken for a ride. I knew then that Chris was not that charming as he had initially presented himself. It was a terrible heartbreak because despite everything, I still love Chris. I still want to be held in his arms, watch him feed me, hang out anywhere with him, listen to those lovely words of love and devotion flow from his lips, make love with him all through the night till we are sated.
I wish I had the strength to confront him, to tell him how much I loved him, how willing I am to right any wrong I have ever done to him.
I was such a fool for love.
Then the call came, it was from my girlfriend telling me she just saw Chris kissing another lady in a supermarket. I didn't believe her. It was so shocking to be true. Was this the reason he had been acting strange to me lately?
I wish I had the guts to confront him but I couldn't. I knew it was better for me to ignore everything and face my future. I will lick my wounds and forge ahead.
As if that was not enough, I saw him with my two eyes kissing a lady at a bar we usually hang out. Why I even came to the bar, I can't really say, just my intuition driving me wild.
Watching the way he dazed the pretty woman in front of him with his charm, I couldn't take it anymore. All the anger I had harboured inside fought violently for a release. I walked towards them, strutting the "don't dare me" look.
If I was expecting any look of surprise from Chris, I was highly disappointed. Chris pretended like he hadn't met me before, giving me that blank look. Even had the audacity to ask me if he can help me.
Without much ado, I rained all manner of insults on him. There was no stopping me, I raved like a mad woman. Not until I was pushed away by the barman did I realise how I have disgraced myself. I cried all the way home. How I survived that night was a mystery.
The next day, he came to my office and warned me never to ever try what I did yesterday evening at the bar again. If my eyes were guns. I would have shot him repeatedly but I thanked my stars that I had recovered from his deceit and hurt. With dignity, I called the security guard to walk him out of my office with a strict order never to allow him in the premises again.
Here I am, gazing at Tony as he tried to win my heart again with his well-rehearsed words.
What do I do diary?
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
WHY I CHOSE ABSTINENCE...
I have always thought I was smart when it comes to sex. I would beat my chest and brag to my friends (those who care to listen) that nothing can make me fall victim of sex; be it pregnancy or STDS. That was how meticulous I was when it comes to sex.
Right from my puberty age, I had always being intrigued by sex, thus when I first had it, I knew I had to play it safe if I don't want to hate it. Unlike what we read in books or watch in movies, first time sex is awful... Maybe it's just me but the day I lost my virginity was a hell of a day to me.
However, I made sure whoever my partner was, be it a fling or someone I'm currently dating, uses a condom. Even when we are done, I have to pour water in the condom to ensure there has been no leakage because I couldn't bear the thought of being pregnant.
Despite all my cautious steps, I still found myself pregnant. I was perplexed when the result came out positive. How could it have happened? There was no way I was pregnant. We used protection and I never felt anything flow inside of me.
True, I had been carried away with the passion last time with Femi, a banker I met at Shoprite at Surulere. We had this amazing chemistry on our first date, thus it wasn't a big deal to me to get in bed with him on our fourth date.
It didn't dawn on me to go for a pregnancy test until I noticed the tenderness of my breast. As a precaution, I made it a routine to study my body for any unusual body changes.
That is the disadvantage of pre-marital sex for me. Whether I had safe sex or not, there is this nagging thought that something might have gone wrong. Peace of mind totally eludes me until I see those unfriendly bloody flow. I was always edgy and anxious, afraid that something might have gone wrong. Contraceptives was out of the way since I hate taking drugs. It was either safe sex or nothing. Thus, whenever I felt funny, I would quickly visit the clinic for a pregnancy test or a get a pregnancy strip from a pharmacy store and carry out the test myself, which was much quicker. At the back of mind though, I knew I was not pregnant but sometimes I get this funny feeling that something might have gone wrong during the heat of the passion. Though I have always been proved wrong until now.
Still unable to believe the pregnancy test result, I visited another clinic and it was confirmed that I was pregnant. I couldn't believe I was, I had carried out a urine pregnancy test two weeks ago and it had been negative. How could I be pregnant?
As much as I wanted to believe that there had been a mix up somewhere, I knew I was pregnant. I had missed my period and my breast was tender. This alone was a sign of early pregnancy. Drat! I cussed. How could I have been beaten to my own game. I quickly called Femi to let him know of my latest body status and he told me he will see me later in the evening.
That evening, he didn't show up but called to say that he was working late.
I was furious. I couldn't sleep, eat or think properly. All that kept ringing in my head was what will become of me. How will my parents feel if they found out that their 17 year old daughter is pregnant. It was bound to be hell for me. My dad will definitely disown me. There is no argument in that. Being a well respected deacon in the church, my being pregnant will certainly dent his reputation in the church. My mum won't be that mad but she won't be happy either.
I checked through my period calendar and prayed that a miracle would happen. That my period would appear somehow. I have never been desperate for my period like I was at the moment. I, that usually pray the monthly visitor will not show up for a while due to the cramps that accompanies it now wish for it more than anything ever.
For days I found myself moody, unable to do anything, confused and just distraught. Meanwhile, Femi had told me he was cool with whatever decision I made but I should keep marriage out of it since he is not ready to ply that road yet. I was mad at him. The nonchalant way he told me about his decision got me more infuriated. Was this the "I love you" he was singing to me few weeks ago while he was thrusting in and out of my tunnel? To even make matters worse, he left me at the bar to go watch a football match with his friends. I never felt so stupid in my life as I watch him walk away from "our" responsibility.
While I was busy worrying my big head on what to do, Femi was busy having the time of his life. He would club, hang out with friends, go to work and come back home with nothing to worry about while I, on the hand can't seem to do anything. If I'm not thinking of how to handle my situation, I'm working hard to act normal so that my parents won't notice my body change. I couldn't even hang out with my friends for fear that they might tell on me if not laugh at me. I was in my own world and the stupid idiot who was responsible for it was somewhere having the fun of his life.
I will fringe when I see a mother nursing her baby. I even avoided looking at the baby for fear of guilt. It's like the baby would point an accusing finger at me and tell the whole world that I'm carrying a child. Psychologically, I was losing it. I ponder on how my life would be if I should keep the baby. Though Femi has given his word that he would take care of me but I just don't have faith in his words. If his recent attitude was anything to go by, I think I will be more comfortable on my own. I will spend hours online reading articles on pregnancy and abortion, wondering how I will fit into the society as a "teenage mom."
That, definitely was not in my picture.
After much deliberation, I decided to abort the baby. I couldn't bear the thought of raising a child alone. I was just a teenager, I have no source of income. What would become of my education, career and especially my reputation in the family? I will become the bad egg of the family. How will I cater for my baby? My dad certainly won't lend me a hand. My mum may, but for how long? How will I juggle my education and child together. One thing I was very certain of was that if I had this child, he or she will never lack of love. But the child also needs food, clothes, shelter, how am I supposed to get all these for my child? All these thoughts led me to take the decision on abortion. I just couldn't take it. It was risky I know but I rather do it at this early stage than later.
But as fate would have it, I had a miscarriage two weeks later.
I had a big fall down the staircase on my way to turn the generator on one night and sprained my ankle in the process. At first, I never felt any pain or thought the fall would affect my unborn child in any way until two days later. I had this miserable pain in my lower abdomen. It was as if I wanted to poop but the pain kept cutting through my pelvic region on the right hand side. I was so scared to even cry out for help, all in an attempt to keep the secret away from my parents.
I couldn't sleep that night, I had to call Femi to come but the idiot didn't show up, told me he was far away from home.
Ever since I broke the news of my pregnancy to him, he had been avoiding me, not that I expected more from him, but a little caring wouldn't be a bad idea.
When the pain became unbearable, I had to run to my mum for help. My mum got me some pain killers and sedatives that night so that I could sleep. By morning, the pain had subsided but I woke up to find dirty dry blood stains on my panties. Been a naïve girl, I didn't know what could have happened to me, I just ignored it, thinking maybe it was a dirty blood getting out of my system until late at night when I started bleeding. It now occurred to me to visit my doctor for fear of losing the child.
Since it was late, I had to wait till the following morning to visit the hospital where it was confirmed that I have had an early miscarriage. I was relieved and sad at the same time. Relieved that I didn't have to go through the whole abortion process but sad that I had lost my first child.
I called Femi to tell him the latest update and begged him to come stay with me while the evacuation is carried out but Femi as usual gave me another flimsy excuse. I went into that theatre alone, bore the pain without a hand to reach out to or a soothing voice to assure me that everything will be alright.
It was then I made a decision to abstain from sex. Here I am, paying for the sins I committed with a partner, alone. Was the sex really worth all this pain I'm going through right now? What if I gave up the ghost right now, is this how my destiny will end? Where is the so-called man who used to adore me? Probably hanging out with his friends or maybe sleeping with another girl right now. And here I am, going through this pain, this horrible experience in my life. I shut my eyes as the doctor drill more blood out of my womb.
On my way back home, though on wobbly knees after taking a shot of vitamin K to stop me from bleeding more, I reflected on the advantages of abstinence: I won't have to worry about my period or diseases. I won't have to go jumpy if I don't see my period, I will have peace of mind because I know with or without condom, I can never be pregnant.
"No sex, No pregnancy!" kept ringing in my head throughout the journey.
On getting home, I made posters of my new slogan for life all over my room to remind me that pre-marital sex wasn't worth it at all. I will rather save it than play safe and still be caught in the game. As for that idiot called Femi, he is already history to me. I just hope the next girl on his list will be wiser than me.
Six months counting, I have not had sexual intercourse with any man. No matter how sexually aroused I may be, once I remember what I went through in that clinic 'alone', I knew I will be safe without the trouble of unwanted pregnancy or STDs!
To all the teenage girls out there, let this be your watchword: No sex, No pregnancy!
DISCLAIMER:
The above story is fiction and does not relate to any real-life character. Any similarity to reality is a mere coincidence.
Right from my puberty age, I had always being intrigued by sex, thus when I first had it, I knew I had to play it safe if I don't want to hate it. Unlike what we read in books or watch in movies, first time sex is awful... Maybe it's just me but the day I lost my virginity was a hell of a day to me.
However, I made sure whoever my partner was, be it a fling or someone I'm currently dating, uses a condom. Even when we are done, I have to pour water in the condom to ensure there has been no leakage because I couldn't bear the thought of being pregnant.
Despite all my cautious steps, I still found myself pregnant. I was perplexed when the result came out positive. How could it have happened? There was no way I was pregnant. We used protection and I never felt anything flow inside of me.
True, I had been carried away with the passion last time with Femi, a banker I met at Shoprite at Surulere. We had this amazing chemistry on our first date, thus it wasn't a big deal to me to get in bed with him on our fourth date.
It didn't dawn on me to go for a pregnancy test until I noticed the tenderness of my breast. As a precaution, I made it a routine to study my body for any unusual body changes.
That is the disadvantage of pre-marital sex for me. Whether I had safe sex or not, there is this nagging thought that something might have gone wrong. Peace of mind totally eludes me until I see those unfriendly bloody flow. I was always edgy and anxious, afraid that something might have gone wrong. Contraceptives was out of the way since I hate taking drugs. It was either safe sex or nothing. Thus, whenever I felt funny, I would quickly visit the clinic for a pregnancy test or a get a pregnancy strip from a pharmacy store and carry out the test myself, which was much quicker. At the back of mind though, I knew I was not pregnant but sometimes I get this funny feeling that something might have gone wrong during the heat of the passion. Though I have always been proved wrong until now.
Still unable to believe the pregnancy test result, I visited another clinic and it was confirmed that I was pregnant. I couldn't believe I was, I had carried out a urine pregnancy test two weeks ago and it had been negative. How could I be pregnant?
As much as I wanted to believe that there had been a mix up somewhere, I knew I was pregnant. I had missed my period and my breast was tender. This alone was a sign of early pregnancy. Drat! I cussed. How could I have been beaten to my own game. I quickly called Femi to let him know of my latest body status and he told me he will see me later in the evening.
That evening, he didn't show up but called to say that he was working late.
I was furious. I couldn't sleep, eat or think properly. All that kept ringing in my head was what will become of me. How will my parents feel if they found out that their 17 year old daughter is pregnant. It was bound to be hell for me. My dad will definitely disown me. There is no argument in that. Being a well respected deacon in the church, my being pregnant will certainly dent his reputation in the church. My mum won't be that mad but she won't be happy either.
I checked through my period calendar and prayed that a miracle would happen. That my period would appear somehow. I have never been desperate for my period like I was at the moment. I, that usually pray the monthly visitor will not show up for a while due to the cramps that accompanies it now wish for it more than anything ever.
For days I found myself moody, unable to do anything, confused and just distraught. Meanwhile, Femi had told me he was cool with whatever decision I made but I should keep marriage out of it since he is not ready to ply that road yet. I was mad at him. The nonchalant way he told me about his decision got me more infuriated. Was this the "I love you" he was singing to me few weeks ago while he was thrusting in and out of my tunnel? To even make matters worse, he left me at the bar to go watch a football match with his friends. I never felt so stupid in my life as I watch him walk away from "our" responsibility.
While I was busy worrying my big head on what to do, Femi was busy having the time of his life. He would club, hang out with friends, go to work and come back home with nothing to worry about while I, on the hand can't seem to do anything. If I'm not thinking of how to handle my situation, I'm working hard to act normal so that my parents won't notice my body change. I couldn't even hang out with my friends for fear that they might tell on me if not laugh at me. I was in my own world and the stupid idiot who was responsible for it was somewhere having the fun of his life.
I will fringe when I see a mother nursing her baby. I even avoided looking at the baby for fear of guilt. It's like the baby would point an accusing finger at me and tell the whole world that I'm carrying a child. Psychologically, I was losing it. I ponder on how my life would be if I should keep the baby. Though Femi has given his word that he would take care of me but I just don't have faith in his words. If his recent attitude was anything to go by, I think I will be more comfortable on my own. I will spend hours online reading articles on pregnancy and abortion, wondering how I will fit into the society as a "teenage mom."
That, definitely was not in my picture.
After much deliberation, I decided to abort the baby. I couldn't bear the thought of raising a child alone. I was just a teenager, I have no source of income. What would become of my education, career and especially my reputation in the family? I will become the bad egg of the family. How will I cater for my baby? My dad certainly won't lend me a hand. My mum may, but for how long? How will I juggle my education and child together. One thing I was very certain of was that if I had this child, he or she will never lack of love. But the child also needs food, clothes, shelter, how am I supposed to get all these for my child? All these thoughts led me to take the decision on abortion. I just couldn't take it. It was risky I know but I rather do it at this early stage than later.
But as fate would have it, I had a miscarriage two weeks later.
I had a big fall down the staircase on my way to turn the generator on one night and sprained my ankle in the process. At first, I never felt any pain or thought the fall would affect my unborn child in any way until two days later. I had this miserable pain in my lower abdomen. It was as if I wanted to poop but the pain kept cutting through my pelvic region on the right hand side. I was so scared to even cry out for help, all in an attempt to keep the secret away from my parents.
I couldn't sleep that night, I had to call Femi to come but the idiot didn't show up, told me he was far away from home.
Ever since I broke the news of my pregnancy to him, he had been avoiding me, not that I expected more from him, but a little caring wouldn't be a bad idea.
When the pain became unbearable, I had to run to my mum for help. My mum got me some pain killers and sedatives that night so that I could sleep. By morning, the pain had subsided but I woke up to find dirty dry blood stains on my panties. Been a naïve girl, I didn't know what could have happened to me, I just ignored it, thinking maybe it was a dirty blood getting out of my system until late at night when I started bleeding. It now occurred to me to visit my doctor for fear of losing the child.
Since it was late, I had to wait till the following morning to visit the hospital where it was confirmed that I have had an early miscarriage. I was relieved and sad at the same time. Relieved that I didn't have to go through the whole abortion process but sad that I had lost my first child.
I called Femi to tell him the latest update and begged him to come stay with me while the evacuation is carried out but Femi as usual gave me another flimsy excuse. I went into that theatre alone, bore the pain without a hand to reach out to or a soothing voice to assure me that everything will be alright.
It was then I made a decision to abstain from sex. Here I am, paying for the sins I committed with a partner, alone. Was the sex really worth all this pain I'm going through right now? What if I gave up the ghost right now, is this how my destiny will end? Where is the so-called man who used to adore me? Probably hanging out with his friends or maybe sleeping with another girl right now. And here I am, going through this pain, this horrible experience in my life. I shut my eyes as the doctor drill more blood out of my womb.
On my way back home, though on wobbly knees after taking a shot of vitamin K to stop me from bleeding more, I reflected on the advantages of abstinence: I won't have to worry about my period or diseases. I won't have to go jumpy if I don't see my period, I will have peace of mind because I know with or without condom, I can never be pregnant.
"No sex, No pregnancy!" kept ringing in my head throughout the journey.
On getting home, I made posters of my new slogan for life all over my room to remind me that pre-marital sex wasn't worth it at all. I will rather save it than play safe and still be caught in the game. As for that idiot called Femi, he is already history to me. I just hope the next girl on his list will be wiser than me.
Six months counting, I have not had sexual intercourse with any man. No matter how sexually aroused I may be, once I remember what I went through in that clinic 'alone', I knew I will be safe without the trouble of unwanted pregnancy or STDs!
To all the teenage girls out there, let this be your watchword: No sex, No pregnancy!
DISCLAIMER:
The above story is fiction and does not relate to any real-life character. Any similarity to reality is a mere coincidence.
Monday, 2 July 2012
HERE COMES THE RAIN!!!
It's that time of the year when the heavens opens and pours our showers of blessings. I guess not everyone is excited about the rains like I am; talk about flood and traffic. I'm sure some people fast for days and nights so that the rain will not come down. (and hey... What's that superstition about some wise men holding back the rain, is it for real?)
However the case may be, I love the rain. It gives me an orgasmic thrill. Just to hear those platters of rain splashing on my window panes, or watching the lovely drops form the love heart as they splatter on the ground...gosh!!!I love this feeling.
The rain also bring sweet memories for me. Talk about those magical moments you share with someone who truly adore you. The kiss, the tease, the undressing, the foreplay and then the real thing. But these memories hurt more when you are all alone. You are only left with your teddy bear or pillow to hug (and if you don't have any of this, you can hug your wrapper).
In times like this, be it at the office or at home, I got good music to keep me company.
If the rain gives me orgasm, music gives me more than orgasm. And when I mix two of them, you can imagine the inexorable pleasure I can derive.
It would be stingy of me not to share this beautiful love songs to lighten up your day. I know some people are still caught up in traffic, and if you have an insensitive boss, I can imagine your frustration. Or you got a leaking roof (I actually do, but hey, life goes on), maybe you've been up for a while, mopping the floor or placing buckets all over the hall to avoid having a small stream in your room. Or you live in a flooded area and have to swim your way out. Pele!
Here are some love songs to put a smile on your face.
These songs can be downloaded from www.mp3skull.com
1. "I love you" by Debelah Morgan
2. "Oxygen" by Spice girls
3. "And it feels like" by LeAnn Rimes
4. "I'll remember" by Madonna
5. "Dreaming of you" by Selena
6. "Everytime" by Janet Jackson
7. "I don't want to miss a thing" by Aerosmith
8. "I know what love is" by Celine Dion
9. "Love is all around" by Wet Wet Wet
10. "Back for good" by Takethat
11. "Said that I Loved you but I Lied" by Michael Bolton
12. "Next to you" by Jordin Sparks
13. "No you hang up" by Shayne wards
14. "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden
15. "Breathe again" by Toni Braxton
16. "Rain" by Madonna
17. "Say it Again" by Natasha Bedingfield
18. "Show me Heaven" by Maria Mckee
19. "kiss the rain" by Tracy Chapman
20. "One night" by the Corrs
Hope you enjoy it... Have a blessed rainy day!
However the case may be, I love the rain. It gives me an orgasmic thrill. Just to hear those platters of rain splashing on my window panes, or watching the lovely drops form the love heart as they splatter on the ground...gosh!!!I love this feeling.
The rain also bring sweet memories for me. Talk about those magical moments you share with someone who truly adore you. The kiss, the tease, the undressing, the foreplay and then the real thing. But these memories hurt more when you are all alone. You are only left with your teddy bear or pillow to hug (and if you don't have any of this, you can hug your wrapper).
In times like this, be it at the office or at home, I got good music to keep me company.
If the rain gives me orgasm, music gives me more than orgasm. And when I mix two of them, you can imagine the inexorable pleasure I can derive.
It would be stingy of me not to share this beautiful love songs to lighten up your day. I know some people are still caught up in traffic, and if you have an insensitive boss, I can imagine your frustration. Or you got a leaking roof (I actually do, but hey, life goes on), maybe you've been up for a while, mopping the floor or placing buckets all over the hall to avoid having a small stream in your room. Or you live in a flooded area and have to swim your way out. Pele!
Here are some love songs to put a smile on your face.
These songs can be downloaded from www.mp3skull.com
1. "I love you" by Debelah Morgan
2. "Oxygen" by Spice girls
3. "And it feels like" by LeAnn Rimes
4. "I'll remember" by Madonna
5. "Dreaming of you" by Selena
6. "Everytime" by Janet Jackson
7. "I don't want to miss a thing" by Aerosmith
8. "I know what love is" by Celine Dion
9. "Love is all around" by Wet Wet Wet
10. "Back for good" by Takethat
11. "Said that I Loved you but I Lied" by Michael Bolton
12. "Next to you" by Jordin Sparks
13. "No you hang up" by Shayne wards
14. "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden
15. "Breathe again" by Toni Braxton
16. "Rain" by Madonna
17. "Say it Again" by Natasha Bedingfield
18. "Show me Heaven" by Maria Mckee
19. "kiss the rain" by Tracy Chapman
20. "One night" by the Corrs
Hope you enjoy it... Have a blessed rainy day!
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