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I create narration clips (stories) from everyday dramas and imaginations, worthy of reflection.

01/05/2023

MAY this month be as sweet as wine🥂

03/04/2023

On the eve of the gubernatorial election, I was starving and penniless. The effect of the cashless policy was harsh on me. It became difficult to feed myself.

That afternoon, I lay in my small room empty and hopeless. Then, there was a knock on the door. My schoolmate opened in with the news of hope.

The news was that a certain aspirant was recruiting people as observers for the election. They would be camped in the hotel, fed, and paid for by him. It didn't sound like thuggery, and he attested to it. So I got dressed and followed him.

We took a bike to the primary school in the village which was the meeting point. I met other young men in small groups, some looking harmless, and some, daring and dangerous.

Shortly, a bus appeared and took a sect away, while we waited for another.

When the bus arrived, we were taken to a certain hotel away from the living area, with high walls and a vague giant gate. The hotel was not in operation.

The gate was locked, and manned by a fellow in black. He was often speaking in whispers with the two other guys who led the trip. We couldn't get into the rooms, so we lazed about at the reception.

We were served a plate of rice with malt drink, which I finished in a hurry. It gave me the strength to a near-constant watchfulness.

The air was heavy with the smell of Indian herm for hours, till I grew dizzy and felt so faint that I had to step outside. I was surprised to see the dark clouds outside. Then I realized we had been inside for too long. Looking around, the gate was still locked and the guard was not found.

So I took a walk toward the back of the hotel. Soon, the walk in the fresh air conjured my dizziness away. Then I heard a phone conversation inside the building. I lowered my steps, as the phone call slammed into my ears like a truck backfiring.

I limped a few steps forward, and then paused, listening.

It was the voice of one of the trip leaders. He was receiving orders on something concerning money, arms, and charms. I held my breath and took a few tentative steps closer to the wall.

But the call ended, and I took a few steps back, shuddering in wonder. "Did he hear my footsteps?”

I turned and slipped away, disappearing after a few steps. As soon as I entered the reception, I swept around for my schoolmate, but couldn't find him. He was outside.

Just then, there was a loud honking horn outside the gate, and everyone was alerted at the sight of the arriving vehicles. One conveyed the aspirant who then got us assembled back at the reception.

He addressed us with a bit of cordiality, stating the 'flimsy' task required of us, then made a cash promise of 50k per person, and that revived my uneasiness. Maybe, the phone conversation I overheard earlier was about somewhere else, I thought.

The moment he left, the gate was locked, and our leaders took charge. We were split into two groups; those with arms and those without arms. I was left astonished, mostly when I saw my schoolmate with a local gun on the other side. He looked away.

With that, our money was slashed to half. But we still had a chance to redeem some amount – a suicidal chance.

We were marched into the buses waiting in the premises, and taken away in the dark to another location, toward the end of the village. The road to the end of the village was known for one act – black magic and sorcery.

I sat quietly on the bus, hoping to arrive at a different destination. When the bus stopped at a dead end, my heart skipped. We were going to be fortified. It was not a strange thing in the village as most young men were initiated into it.

While others stepped out in readiness, I was sober. I lost the sight and company of my schoolmate.

Then panic swelled within me. I was heading to be shot dead. There’s a deadly curse in our family against black magic and cultism, and that haunted me. The thought of running away crept into my mind. As quickly as I remembered, we were disarmed before we got into the buses. Slowly, I began to skim through the middle to the side.

When the moment came, I took a deep breath, ready to run into the thick bush. Suddenly, the cloud erupted with a gunshot, signaling our presence. I je**ed, nearly dropping to the ground. I couldn't run, fearing being shot.

From that point to the shrine, a part of me was dead. I was unusually weak on the ground with others. Thoughts of my family, the news of my demise, and life after death weaved through my mind.

The process had begun, and some bravely took their turns. I was next, and then a whisper echoed in my ears, "You’re dead.”

My heart skipped. I knew I won’t survive it. I had just risen toward the herbalist when there were sounds like a gunshot from behind, and one of our leaders and I dropped to the ground. I thought I have been shot dead.

When I opened my eyes, it was the police. We were outnumbered and surrounded. Some of us were arrested, and others fled.

That night, we were taken to the police cell, yet I thank God for that moment. We were released the next day, after the election.

My schoolmate took a bullet in the back of his leg. He fell into a pit and hit his head. He bled to death.
• Saved •
©

01/04/2023

🙏

27/03/2023

Eno tricked her husband. That cold evening, she brought her friend, Grace into the house to spend the weekend with them. Grace was married too, but lonely. Her husband was away at work, where he spends 3 months on an offshore oil rig.

Eno had previously told her husband about her and how lonely and longing she had been. So he welcomed the idea to ease her loneliness in their house.

After dinner, they drank a lot of wine, making merry, until they were evidently tipsy. When bedtime came, Grace was shown the guestroom, while the couple slept in theirs.

But Eno had a plan.

Shortly, Grace knocked at the couple’s room, consumed by loneliness and longing. She opened the door, dressed in red loose-fitted sleepwear, revealing her largely bare curves and breasts.

Eno welcomed he into their queen-size bed. They shared the same bed on a cold night full of wild thoughts.

In the morning, Eno rose early to the office leaving her friend and husband on the bed. It was weekend call-up at the bank.

The moment she left, her husband stood over Grace looking down at her body while she slept. His senses tingled with lust. He lay back, smoothed the hair from her face, and rested his hand on the soft skin of her exposed thigh. She moved her body.

Her breath caught up as his hand invaded her body. She shivered. Passion came without warning, completely consuming them, and they had s*x.

Suddenly, the door opened and Eno stepped into the room. She met them in the act. Her husband froze mid-way as she entered. She picked a device from the table and then walked away without saying a word.

She closed the door behind them, smiling. "There’s breakfast in the kitchen, Grace. I'll be back at noon,” she echoed behind.

For a moment, her husband looked confused, then turned away. He couldn't shake the fire in his blood. So they continued as if nothing had happened.

After the weekend, Grace left their house. But still having an affair with her friend’s husband.

One week later, the husband came back home late. He opened the sitting room and saw ladies’ bags on the chairs. There were pairs of ladies’ shoes on the tile floor, empty glasses of wine on the side stools, and the TV was left on.

He called on his wife but no answer.

As he stepped toward the bedroom, sounds of panting and moaning were heard from the room. His heart raced immediately. He opened the door at once and found his wife naked on the bed snuggling over the wave of intense pleasure with three naked young ladies.

He stared at them, too shocked to speak.

Then he stepped out and sank into the sofa. For a moment, he wondered what was happening in his home. He grinned as he realized that his wife was a le***an. His affair with Grace has ridiculed him, and there was nothing he could do.

Eno did not stop. The number of naked young ladies increased in her bed. She found the way back to her affection after three years of pretense in marriage.

• Set-Up •
©

23/03/2023

I have never seen a ghost. But like they say, there is a first time for everything.

At about 5:30 am, I woke up when the main gate was unchained and opened. No one leaves the compound that early. I lay back listening intently.

Footsteps sounded inside the compound and stopped. Then it started again. It was soft but sounded like one in a hurry.

I watched the window, hoping to see the security motion light turned on. But it did not.

The footsteps breezed through till they died away down the yard as I listened. Then I waited for whose apartment among the two other occupants would be opened.

Surprisingly, it was the barrister’s doorstep.

The door wasn't forced open.

I rose from the bed overwhelmed with shock. Barrister had merely left the compound about an hour ago to the park. He was traveling to Lagos by morning bus. I heard him announced his departure at my window, opened the gate, and stepped out.

Who is that in his apartment?

I stepped toward the kitchen, held my breath and waited. Quietly, I opened the backdoor and heard something inside his apartment.

At first, it was soft, indistinct gibberish, sounds of laboured breathing, and footsteps walking around the house.

"Barrister," I called in a lowly tone. There was silence. I felt strange about it. Then he responded in his husky voice. I wasn't satisfied with the tone of his voice.

So I stepped toward his door, knocked, and held the k**b, and it was unusually warm.

When I opened it, I was struck by a gloomy aura in the room without understanding it. I saw him seated on the cushion, calm and sober. My heartbeat raced immediately. He wasn't looking at me. I took a few steps, then paused, glancing around the room.

"What happened?” I asked curiously, unable to take a seat. In my mind, I thought he was robbed.

"I couldn't make it anymore, I will have to go elsewhere,” he muttered, touching his head. His movement was a bit faster than normal.

“Where?” I asked with a mix of relief and curiosity.

“Elsewhere,” he said looking away. I still couldn't get an eyeball on him. But his face was pale.

"I'm sorry for my daughter. I will never get to be at her graduation. It was the only chance to prove my support for her modeling career which I disapproved of at first. I promised her I will be there. But it's too late for me now. I have failed her,” he muttered with sadness and then covered his face with his hands.

"Are you going elsewhere for a job?”

Before he could answer that, there was a loud and desperate knock on the gate. I looked at the time on his wall and it was about 6 am.

So I stepped outside. At the gate, I met two men behind the gate. One was the vulcanizer on the main road. I didn't know the other fellow. There was a Toyota Sienna packed behind them and a man stood at the door. I was a bit relaxed.

"Good morning, please, is this where the Barrister live?” they threw on me at once.

"Yes," I replied reluctantly, thinking they were the ones that had his journey canceled. They turned to each other unable to say a thing.

"He's in that car…he’s dead. We found him by the roadside early this morning, knocked down by a suspected one-way driver.” the fellow stuttered.

I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying as I opened out.

“The vulcanizer identified him. We need to contact his relatives to get him to the mortuary,” he added.

I shook my head in deep doubt, then stepped towards the car. Slowly, the door was pushed open, and lo, a body lay, still, and soaked with blood from a terrible head injury. I drew closer, and it was Barrister.

I couldn't believe my eyes. In my head, it was not real. No, it wasn't.

“What about the man I met in his house?” I asked myself, and goosebumps grew all over my body.

"A ghost!”
©

20/03/2023

Before they went to bed that night, his girlfriend locked the front door. But about 2 am, when he rose to p*e, he found the door slightly open.

He stopped. He wondered what had happened. Quickly, he turned to the corner of the house where he keeps his laptop, and it was in place. Then to the wall and the flat TV screen was still hanging there. Nothing was missing. His girlfriend was sleeping in the bedroom.

Then who opened the door?

He felt a spasm of panic sweeping over him. Slowly, he stepped towards the door, holding his breath. As he got closer to the door, the electricity went off.

He turned toward the window instead, and p*eped through the blinds out to the dark outside. But saw nothing. He stood back in confusion and panic.

Quietly, he turned away from the door, slipped back to get his phone, and woke his girlfriend. He was shocked at the empty bed. She was not there.

Curiously, he checked around the bedroom. Her phone was on the bedside and none of her belonging was missing.

Where is she?

He dashed to the kitchen and toilet, and she was not there.

Worried, he went back to the front door and opened it gently. It was dark, cold, and quiet outside. He swept his eyes around the outside. Then he crept toward the backyard and a low moaning noise hit his ears. He stood still, listening intently.

His heart raced as the moaning got clearer. He p*eped into the dark yard and saw his girlfriend having s*x with their neighbour, Bassey. She was pinned to the wall and ravished savagely from the back. She kept moaning on and on.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He was so shocked that he could hardly hold his phone. His face flushed with intense anger.

He recalled her few reports on Bassey’s advances to her and how she abhors him. Bassey was the filthiest human being any woman could get closer to. He dealt on condemned iron and stinky rubbish, and barely had his bath.

Recently, she reported to him about his offer of a hundred thousand Naira for s*x. She felt insulted, though, they laughed about it with the thought that it was some kind of terrible joke – but it wasn't.

His girlfriend worked in a private firm and earned half of the offer. "How could she do this?”

He stood watching them with a broken heart. Then he dragged a deep breath, with his eyes closed, striving to remain calm.

Quietly, he went back inside, feeling stabbed in the chest and locked the door. He wished he could disappear or leave the apartment that night.
©

17/03/2023

On my first night at my uncle’s country home, there was a robbery attack.

I crept towards the door, my heart thumping out loud. I could hear my two cousins’ footsteps thumping over my head. They had run upstairs to the safe room.

I was left behind. They tried to wake me up, but I am sleepyhead.

In a moment of calmness from the outside, I opened the door quietly and tiptoed into the lobby. Just then, there was a loud bang from the sitting, and the front door was brought down. I stood back halfway, frightened, not knowing where to run to.

The dared robbers were snorting into the sitting room. Long shadows of their features were cast on the walls, highlighting their weapons. It was coming towards the lobby.

I found a door beside me. I crept through it closing the door gently behind me. I took a deep breath, eyes closed, listening to their footsteps. Shortly, it died away.

When I opened my eyes, I couldn't see anything. The room was dark, foggy, and creepy. I stepped away from the door, beating the fog for vision. Then I found myself in an open and fog-free space in the room.

In front of me, was a slightly open wardrobe. Something was moving inside. It was creepy. My heart stopped. I was cold and covered with goosebumps.

Slowly the door creaked open, revealing a boy, stained with blood. The smell of blood struck my nose. It was awful. I couldn't spit.

“Junior!” I gulped my spit, recognizing his dead face. I turned back and run into the fog.

For minutes, I was running in circles. The room was endless, I couldn't find the door anymore. Suddenly, I bumped into another wardrobe, flinging the door open. Something stirred instead.

I stood back, shivering and stiff as a dead man presented itself. It was Uncle John, wrapped in a white loin. I collapsed on the cold floor.

Unconsciously, I felt a cold hand on my shoulders, followed by a gentle whisper, "Wake up, child. Run now, before your uncle finds you.”

I found my feet, not knowing how long I had passed out. The room was vague. I stumbled into it, swirling along for the exit door. "That way!” the mystery voice sounded lowly into my ears. I couldn't see anything except the thick fog.

When I disappeared into the fog, I found myself panting inside the dark bush. From panic, cold, and shock, a feverish shivering shook my whole body. "Help me, Lord,” I muttered in self-pity. I hung to myself, eyes sweeping over the dark bush.

Then I heard a long stroke of sweeping over a distance. It was indistinct at first, till it unfolded into a recognizable sound. I sensed the road was close by. Quickly, I stumbled through the bush toward the direction of the sweeper.

I appeared on the road, gasping and scaring the street sweeper. She dumped her broom and ran without looking back.

I ran behind her, calling on her to help me. At one point, I stopped running after catching sight of a known landmark. Then I slipped home, totally shaken up. The memory of the dead in the wardrobe roamed in my head.

Junior was my uncle’s only son. He died one afternoon after a brief fever and two years after Uncle John had died. My uncle used them for money rituals.

For three days, I shivered and couldn't talk. I hardly got food past my tongue. I would open my mouth but words wouldn't come out. My mother sat sick beside me, praying and weeping.

On the fourth day, my uncle died the same hour I found the dead in the wardrobe. I was able to talk again.
©

17/02/2023

The girl screamed, abandoned the bus, and ran out of the motor park, causing a strange commotion, while some people scampered for their safety. She thought she had seen a ghost.

Idara hid her face in shame, turning away from the crowd. Her encounter with her schoolmate scared the girl away, thinking she was a ghost. It was barely two weeks after her funeral service, and her schoolmate was present in the sad event, conducted at her residence.

Idara was believed to be dead and her body razed, yet she roamed in a sister state, alive, homeless, and hungry, unable to return home.

All her life, she had been under the strict watch and control of her rich but cagey parents, especially her father who was quite over-protective of his children. They were just three but never allowed to go out on their own.

After she graduated from a privately owned university which was as cagey as her home, she was caught up again in boredom at home, with no one to talk to, except their housekeepers who were always busy with chores. Besides, they had nothing interesting to talk about. Her siblings were in school and she was always alone all day watching tv and lazing around.

She began to crave for company, within or outside their prison-wall fence.

One evening, when she offered to check on the visitor at their gate, Essien, her school mate strolled past their house at the same time. She greeted him as if they were old friends, stunning him. In a minute, they exchanged pleasantries and she gave out her number to him. He promised to call her.

Essien lived in the neighbourhood with his uncle. They have been neighbours for years without knowing each other until their last year at the university.

Two days passed by, and there was no call from him. On the third day, he called in the afternoon while she was having a nap yet, a rush of excitement coloured her cheek.

At first, it was a mere chitchat between them. Slowly, they became fond of each other, speaking every minute on the phone till they were overtaken by their feelings for one another. Eventually, they fell in love and craved to spend some time together.

But Idara was restricted from going out, not for any reason, except for church services which had the company of her parents. So they spent every night in secret on the phone till dawn.

As their desire to spend some time together grew stronger, they waited and hoped for the slightest chance to come by. But the chance did not present itself, instead, Essien’s uncle relocated from the neighbourhood to a remote area, and the outskirts of the town – something that broke their hearts.

They kept in touch as usual. Essien was allotted an apartment at the boys quarters, and the privacy excited him. His longing for her company rose above the meter. So he gave her an invitation to his apartment. It was all the invitation she needed despite her restriction, and she promised to visit him someday.

Idara came up with a plan when her professional body had a conference in a distant State. That morning, a feeling other than anxiety washed over her. She waited in the car for her father to drop her at the park before going to work. When her father stepped into the car, he glimpsed around her and was convinced by her readiness. Then he drove out of the compound, and her anxiety was greater than joy.

At every street they passed behind, her anxiety increased, and she kept her phone aside, winning her father with her focus.

As soon as they arrived at the park, her father helped her into the vehicle which had her name on the passenger manifest. He stayed back in his car until her vehicle took off. When the vehicle zoomed off, she waved emotionally at her father, and her gap tooth displayed a sweet smile. He waved back and drove out of the park, gasping a sigh of satisfaction.

A few minutes after leaving the park, she told the driver to stop as she discontinued the journey. She stepped out of the vehicle amid disgruntled passengers.

Quickly, she called her anxious lover over the successful plan. Then she boarded a taxi and started on her way to meet him. She curled in the backseat, her body buzzing with lust and anticipation.

Half an hour later, she arrived at his house and Essien presented himself outside. He entangled her in a warm hug, his arms wrapped around her and his chin on her head. Then a quick hand at the door k**b and Idara disappeared into the bedroom of her lover.

They jumped on one another and later, the air of the dim light room smelled of s*x and hot breath, and their naked body lay side by side having a delightful talk. Then, Idara stretched out reaching for her phone which was dumped underneath the pillow, and was shocked at the multiple missed calls from her parents and others. Her phone was on silent mode since she left her house.

She panicked wondering what the calls were all about. By her calculations, the time she spent with her lover was not long enough for her to reach her destination.

Unknown to her, the vehicle she boarded and abandoned had caught up with fire along the road and everyone was burnt to death.

She screamed, jerking Essien off the mattress as the news appeared on her phone screen. She showed the phone to his face shivering with fear and found the situation extremely frightening. Undoubtedly, it was a great deal of trouble with her father and she knew it. Her lover’s words were ineffective in calming her fears.

At last, she was calmed as he promised to cook up a story. He advised her to switch off her phone and she did. Together, they tried several tales but none could explain why she abandoned the vehicle.

As time passed by, she opted to call her parents, accept her fate and live again, but he feared more for himself and rebuked her. She had no trouble understanding him, so she decided to remain a mystery for a while.

A few days later, Essien considered that the risk of accommodating her would not pay off well. He lied to her that his uncle was suspicious of her presence in the compound, and that was detrimental to him. So he sneaked her out in the dark to the guest house in the neighborhood.

One night, the guest house was robbed and raided by robbers, and she lost her phone and credit card to them. Her life was never the same again, as she couldn't reach anyone or took care of herself. Essien did not return to her anymore, he got tired of her and felt that she was a burden and danger to him.

She was broke and at the mercy of the guest house attendant who shared his food with her and permitted her to stay on. He flattered her with lies that Essien would return and she became comfortable with him. Then a problem arose.

He began to subject her to s*xual harassment every night, threatening to kick her out of the guest house, unless she succumbed to him but she pleaded with him. One night, after his last attempt at her failed, he kicked her out at dawn.

She cried.

Before sunrise, her tummy was itching for food. So she sold her wig which was the only thing of little value to her, took a little snack, and wondered elsewhere to go. Instinctively, she found her way to the park hoping to find help.

Suddenly at the park, she met her schoolmate who ran away at the sight of her, thinking she was a ghost. It was barely two weeks after her funeral. Idara was looking quite unhealthy and miserable. She couldn't believe it. Then she hid her face in shame and self-pity. "I am not a ghost, I am not a ghost!” she wept uncontrollably, attracting the baffling crowd to herself. At that moment, she was broken and willing to be rescued!

ClipGloss

12/02/2023

I'VE BEEN SHÓT MANY TIMES. I am down and miserable with too many scars. I could have always gotten away when I had the opportunity but I got myself shót.

On one occasion, I only had to stay humble, get along, and be nice to others. But I saw myself better than everyone, not knowing that my helper was among them. Shortly, I was shót and a lifetime opportunity slipped out of my hands.

I also remember when I only had to say sorry for what I was mostly wrong about. But I didn't because the one involved was only a woman, and that was enough for me to flaunt my manhood. "How can I apologize to a woman?" I said hitting my chest. Later I was shot and I couldn't find love anymore. I lost grace.

There were other great opportunities to life destinations and open doors that only simplicity and humility could have seen me through. But I got shot by my senseless ego and lost everything. Please don't let it shoot you too.

A great week awaits you.

ClipGloss

11/02/2023

My fiancee wrote a story about a "family of secrets" and one of the characters in the story turned out to be him.

I was at my workplace when my friend called my attention to a story on the "Stories by RantHQ” platform, posted by my fiancee.

I anxiously read the post smiling at the end. I know my fiancee's art of writing. He could write life into a statue. So I called my friend and told her it was mere fiction. But she said I should be watchful.

There was nothing to worry about. I have read a lot of stories written by him on the platform before we met. I was caught up by his writing skills, followed him, and became friends, till we ended up together.

Pondering over the story he posted, it didn’t have any likeness to members of his family, except that he also attended the University of Calabar. His parents were late and his sisters have been married for years.

Last weekend, at about 3 pm, I was in the bedroom, when his phone rang and a familiar caller "Aunty-Calabar” appeared on the screen. He was in the sitting room writing. I didn't bother taking the phone to him, as he seldom answered her calls.

Once I asked him about the caller and he explained that it was his father’s only surviving sister who only called to ask for financial support. I believed him.

There was a time he sent money for her to pay her daughter's school fees, and that was when I knew she had a child. I praised him for that act of generosity, though at the time he was financially grounded.

When the phone rang again, I took it to him. I thought she needed help. I was halfway back to the room when he raised his voice on the phone. I waited to eavesdrop on his phone call, but he was quiet. Then he took the phone call outside. He has never answered her call in my presence, and I don't mind.

Soon he returned looking upset. Then he dressed up and told me that he wanted to see his elderly aunty to address an issue and that it was urgent. He promised to brief me when he comes back. I nodded and told him to be careful.

Unknowingly, my fiancee was going to meet the mother of his daughter, and her daughter at the motor pack. She was the one on the phone with him, saved as "Aunty-Calabar”.

Four hours later, I called him twice, but he didn't answer the call. I thought he was busy. So, I relaxed for a while hoping he would call me back as always, but he did not.

At about 10 pm he wasn't back nor returned my calls. I called him again but he wasn't answering. I became worried, then called his younger sister and told her what happened. She promised to call him immediately, and then get back to me. I ended the call, anxiously waiting for her call. Shortly, her call came, and surprisingly, she told me that he answered her call and was going to call me.

"Why is he not picking up my calls?” I vented in anger, after ending her call. I didn't call him again till I slept off.

At midnight I heard him open the door. I turned and sat up in the dark room. He crept in, switched on the light, and je**ed as he met my eyes wide open.

"Sorry dear, I missed your calls,” he stuttered in a low tone. He tried to explain that his phone was in silence mode and that things got complicated, and so on. That her aunty is pushing to return home with her child and no one is ready to shoulder her burdens, that he was so unstable.

Slowly, I was calmed. You can’t be angry for long with the man you love.

Later, we managed to sleep off.

At about 3 am, when I stood up to take a p*e, I noticed the light on his phone by the bedside. It was ringing but the phone was in silence mode. It was "Aunty-Calabar”.

"Why is this woman calling him at this hour?” I muttered.

I went to the toilet and back, and met another missed call, followed by a message.

“What is wrong?” I was disturbed. Suddenly, l was overtaken by curiosity. I turned to look at my fiancee who was lost in a sudden sleep. Then my curiosity grew deeper, and I picked up the phone.

“12 missed calls,” I stood in awe. "What is it?”

Then I opened his messages, and after reading the first message from her, the phone almost slipped off my hand. I wasn't sure if it was "Aunty-Calabar”, maybe from someone else. I begin to wonder if he was cheating on me with someone. I hurriedly went to his phone book to confirm the contact but it was her.

I was going crazy and couldn't believe my eyes. I managed to read through her messages with my heartbeat thumping aloud.

That evening, she came into Uyo unannounced, and that got him bewildered. He resorted to paying for a hotel room for her and the daughter, against her mission, and pleaded to get some money for them to travel back to Calabar. Though she threatened to leave his daughter with him and nothing else since he abandoned them.

"So my fiancee has a daughter and hides from me? He even went ahead to write about it. Was he preparing my mind towards it?" I kept asking myself.

Just then, he opened his eyes and saw me rooted with his phone. He jumped out of the bed at once. I pointed the messages to his lying face, and handed the phone to him, quietly.

I wasn't interested in any explanation, he had nothing to explain. Quietly, I picked up my phone and searched for any available Bolt driver.

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