There are some moments that stand out of several, and there are some memories that we want to take to the grave due to the sweetness. Read this writer’s.
I happened to be having a s*xual relationship with a lady I met on social media far back in 2011 during my National Youth Service programme in Ogun state. She was a police officer. Quite a crazy person with an unbearable urge for s*x. After talking sweet online, we finally met in Ibadan. she wasn’t too beautiful but had alot to offer on bed as she boasted.
As time went on, we set a day for the pleasure deed and it was really explosive with me hitting her up to 10 rounds in just two days at her place in Badagry. She wanted me to stay with her up to a week but I had a feeling my death was close due to the frequency and intensity of the s*x.
I wasn’t too impressed with her physically and considering her poor communication skills, I told myself it was over as I returned to Ibadan where I used to be based then with my family. I got s*x-starved as time went on and after continued pleas from her, we decided to meet again for another round of lovemaking at her place in Lagos. I took an excuse from home and embarked on the trip. On getting to Badagry, I called her to notify her of my presence but events took a dramatic turn. To my greatest shock, she switched off her phone. I tried severally and couldn’t reach her. I checked my phone call records when I remembered she once contacted me with an Etisalat line. I finally found it and called her up but when she heard it was me, she switched off the phone again.
I was so disturbed and confused. I was wondering what happened as the day was getting dark and such areas are not safe at night particularly for a stranger like me with an innocent face. It wouldn’t take a hoodlum a second to know I am new in the environment. I was so unsettled as she was the brain behind my coming with her sweet words and sensational promises.
As the day got darker, I knew I was in danger. I have friends in the core parts of Lagos and as for inside Badagry, I had nobody. I started racking my brains on how to locate her house which I visited about 7 months ago. I missed my way initially but I was able to locate the particular junction to her house from which I discovered her place eventually. I met her neighbour’s daughter and her younger brother. The neighbour’s daughter was almost 18 years old then. They quickly recognised me and gave me water to drink on my demand. I felt like committing suicide. The entire ‘illegal’ journey started to dawn on me. I lied to my parents I was going to my former school to secure my transcript which I needed for my Masters admission. I almost cursed my life. It was obvious I successfully crossed my boundary.
It was a face-to-face apartment and my fling’s door was locked. The girl gave me more water and toothpaste. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. We both discussed where I could possibly lay my head for the night. My bank account was slimmer than Mavin’s female act, Di’ja, so lodging into an hotel was a no-go-area. The girl who believes my fling is my sister for security reasons opened up to me that she is married to one mobile police officer attached to one unit in Lagos and that I am one of the numerous guys that pay her visits. Immediately, the image of the ‘hard-face’ of mobile policemen in Nigeria struck me. I knew I was playing with the tail of a rattle snake. I just wanted to sleep. She gave me the option of sleeping on the bench of their passage as her father was around and wouldn’t accommodate me.
Meanwhile, while the whole drama was on; I confided in a friend who is like a crime partner to me on ‘bed-related issues’ he ran out of options too. He was like ‘please just find a way to stay alive for the night’ It was really getting late; time was almost 10pm with no hope of a place to sleep. I was getting disturbed. I saw a church along the street (name withheld), no service was going on but the doors were opened. My plan was to go and explain my plight to the pastor with a cooked up story so that he would allow me sleep. Funny enough, I had 10 packets of ‘bullets’ in my bag. I was thinking about throwing them away because the man of God could decide to ascertain the contents of my bag. On the sight of those ‘weapons of mass destruction’ he would know I am not a gentleman.