Somehow, for some unknown reasons, everyone I spoke with within the holiday season kept saying ‘peace you must be in the village by now’, ‘peace how’s the village treating you?’. Like really? why the so much association with the village Biko? Am i the one holding my village people’s destiny? Why was everyone expecting me to spend my holiday in the village?
Why wasn’t anyone expecting me to spend it in other places like Dubai, America, Zanzibar or even Paris? Why must it be the village? How on earth did I fit to cast for the Nollywood movie titled ‘Peace the village girl, just how?
On the 23rd of December, since we had closed for the year at my office, i went to visit a friend around yaba but was stuck in mushin as the dearth of fuel made it almost impossible to get a vehicle. After I stood for 2hrs reciting psalm 121, yet no help came forth, I humbly carried myself to mount a bike like everyone else.
I had bid price with a bikeman but he said he needed a 2nd passenger unless I wanted to pay for 2seats. I told him I had chairs at home and his bike was not my parlour. In split seconds, we saw a man who was headed same direction. I liked the fact that he was really slim so enough space was guaranteed on the bike. I mounted first and he followed. We got comfortably sitted with space on every corner but the bike man refused to move. When we asked him to move, he said I had to shift closer to him before he could start his bike. He said he wanted to feel me and if I didn’t get closer, his bike wouldn’t start. It was obvious the bikeman wanted some boobs but exactly when did my boobs become an engine to help his bike start? I thought I could defend my boobs but before I could give a speech on how my boobs were strictly for my future kids and the future bearded baby of the house, he asked me to get down as he wasn’t interested in carrying me anymore. Really? Brothers & Sisters! Is it by force to give my boobs to a bike man for him to use as pillow?
I came down and watched as other bikers begged him to forgive me for apparently refusing to give him my hard earned boobs. However, none of them volunteered to carry me b/cos I was the sister who was stingy with her natural pillows.
After a while, I got another bike. The bike man got his 2nd passenger, a fifty-something year old man with all the bellies in the world. When I sat and the man with his belly sat behind me, i felt claustrophobic. It was so tight that I felt somethings protruding from him and hitting me on my waist. With me sitted between a bike man who was resting on my boobs and a full bellied man whose stuff was hitting on me, how best could a threesome be possibly defined? At the time of the illicit hitting, I wanted to turn to ask him which part of his body was hitting me between his stomach and the other stuff so if after two weeks i started to vomit, I would know he was responsible.
At some point where my conscience pricked me to think the man was innocent and could be a pastor, evangelist or a chosen Mopol, our bikeman jammed the brakes while on high-speed which made the man’s stuff hit me harder and he sexily moaned ‘ooooooohhhhhhhh’. -you know, like the oohhhhh baby don’t stop kind of thing. I pinched myself and said ‘peace you are hallucinating due to that porn you watched 5years ago. It’s not real. This man is a harmless old man’! Just few minutes I had convinced myself that he was innocent, our bikeman jammed the brakes again and this old man made thesame ‘ooooooohhhhhhhh’. That was when I knew the man had spiritually reached orgasm the 2nd time and unfortunately, a baby girl like me was the object of imaginary fornication. I had to shift closer to the bikeman as I preferred to give all my boobs to a bikeman than get pregnant for a man old enough to be my grand dad. Even though there was no physical penetration, who knew what happened spiritually?
When the man noticed I had shifted and his stuff wasn’t hitting my softs, he grievously said, ‘the world is collapsing!… Oh no!..’ Grand daddy! Why won’t the world collapse? Of cos, there is no hope for a third Orgasm! Until now, I’m still looking for a priest to confess this unintentional sin to. Incase you know a priest,pls make the confession on my behalf . Thank you!
On the very much celebrated 25th, I went to the movies. I was skeptical the wedding party 2 would wow me b/cos of the bad reviews it had online so I planned to watch pitch perfect 3 but due to my late arrival, the wedding party 2 became my best bet. After seeing the wedding party 2, I know I will;
- Have my wedding in Dubai oh yes!
- Ask the man who proposes to me If it was a mistake or he was for real
- Tell critics to STFU as the movie isn’t as bad as reviewed.
After I left the cinema, I went to an eatery to get sharwama, but little did I know that Nigerians made their sharwamas with pepper soup ingredients. i was drinking water after each bite and with all the tears gathered in my eyes, I missed Benin Republic. You see, of the few things these Beninese are good at, making tasteful sharwama tops the list.
Just Yesterday, I went to the ATM to withdraw 2k from my 4k account and this man walked up to me. I noticed how Harmattan had dried his black lips and also his Ameri-igbotic accent.
Him : Yo pretty, you Nigerian?.
Me: (clears throat to notify my British accent soliders) I am!
Him: you know I don’t stay here and I’m just getting back from overseas but nna Mehn, My car is over there and I’d wona give u a bumpy ride to your destination … Bad gal?
Me: (At the mention of bumpy ride, I remembered my awful threesome experience) no thanks,i prefer keke napep.
Him: baby, I would wona get ur fucking number. I would have given you mine but nna, it’s an Int’l number mehn. Over there, we don’t Fucking store numbers in our fucking heads mehn.
I collected his China phone and imprinted my +229 country code which is for my whatsapp. He saw it and exclaimed ‘nna Mehn! gosh! I knew u didn’t live here motherfucker. So tell me, were you in the U. S, Spain, Germany,Australia,paris’ …..and when he mentioned london, I smiled and shyly nodded. If only he knew +229 was Benin Republic country code. he later texted and out of curiosity, I went to google his +86 country code, Lo and behold! It was China! Why are Aba boys like this? I am asking b/cos it’s only an Aba boy that will go to China and come back with an American accent!
Anyways, that has been it so far. It’s 2018 & I dedicate this year to improving my spiritual life, reading more books, writing more and my NYSC. I believe in setting realistic goals and letting other things fall in place. 2018 is definitely a great year for us all and I can’t help but get excited. so share with us. did you spend your holiday in your village? how did you spend it and what are you dedicating your 2018 to?