Beauty and the best is a Nigerian other room story (+18) Part 2

And the story continues …..

This is the longest 30 minutes Ewa has ever been through. Thoughts fly through her head; “what if he dies? What if the surgery is not successful? Does he really love me?” She notices the painting on the wall; it was the image of a nurse tending to a patient in a hospital bed but placed in a basketball court. Whatever that meant really wasn’t what Ewa was interested in. She seeks distraction and brings out the new phone BROS got for her at the mall. She scrolls through the various apps and picks the notorious mind gosling candy crush turning the volume low as she was conscious of the other two people at the waiting room.  30 minutes is a very long time away.

Its 2:30pm in Lagos, the traffic is intense with buses, cars and mini havoc called “keke” which are actually tricycles maneuvering their way through the gridlock and starching car bumpers as they leave motorist with yellow paint marks on the cars and angry madams and bosses.

In the mist of all the scrabble pieces which is the best way to describe the chaos, sits Mrs. BROS at the back of her SL600 Mercedes Benz, legs crossed as she steers through the tinted window. No expression on her face, she rarely gives anyone a clue of what’s on her mind, her driver knows better than to try and figure it out as well. She is cold.

Mrs. BROS wasn’t like this earlier in her life; she was happy girl as a child. The only daughter of the great Chief K. “Baba ni yen” , the phrase given to Chief K over the years which means “That’s the big boss” each time he steps out of this palatial home only to be greeted by a crowd of thugs and market women during his days a politician.

Chief K has no time for politics these days, he has wind down that bit for others or proxies as the case may be. Made billions of naira as a contractor to the military during the junta, he was in charge of supplying boots and uniforms during the war. It was his special thank you for providing certain generals the girls required to warm their nights as he was not a silver spoon child. He knew he had few options in life but was determined to live like the children of the school principal who was very friendly with the white missionaries. It’s a wonder what seeing a principal in clean white shirt, well iron khaki trousers with razor sharp linings, white socks and a set of blue, red and black biros lining the breast pocket can inspire in a man.

All Chief K wanted was to be a teacher. He loved the look, the respect and mostly the type of food they had access to from the Catholic missionaries who built the schools. Those days a teacher can tell a parent not to eat for two days so the child can be smarter and they would not doubt it. He loved the attention and power they got. One thing was lacking though for Chief K, his mind was not programmed for formal education. He had a short attention span due to his imaginative mind. Some skills are better used on the streets than in the classroom. Chief K couldn’t pass his standard 6 exams despite being very clever. Latin. Oh Latin, the killer subject for him. 

He kept failing that dame subject. After many failed attempts, he discovered that the bread, eggs, butter, milk and chocolate the missionaries enjoyed didn’t come from heaven. They even didn’t come from Rome neither was it free. They came from a market in “Eko” or Lagos as his principal always tried to correct everyone in his village.

Chief K took his bag, hopped on a trailer carrying cocoa from his village to Lagos for onward export and that’s was the end of his teacher dreams.

Chief K was good with numbers, he quickly joined a group of boys that carried cocoa sacks from trucks to warehouses, gathering his little cents and buying milk, eggs, butter and chocolate back to his former principal and missionaries. Back then he was not Chief K, he was just that boy that sold what the missionaries eat cheaper than anyone else.

One evening, Chief K arrived from this village with monies he had just been paid form his supplies. It was quite late and the bus he boarded had broken down at the dark side of town. A notorious area I might add. Everyone came down from the bus asking questions and pleading with the driver to find a solution. With the driver not knowing what to do as he just took captainship of the vehicle from the former owner, everyone had to find their way to their various destinations and that’s when Chief K noticed a place he had never seen before in his life. It was a small building with different bright lights. This place had light bulbs of different colours, blue, yellow, green and they all blended to give a mystical ambiance.

There was music echoing from the house. The sound was what tricked the senses to look towards the lighted place. As Chief K walked towards this place he noticed a crowd of people, murmurings which later evolved to audible chatter came from them. As he moved closer he could clearly see them, they were women, ladies and young girls, in different shapes and sizes; some dancing and whining their waist to calypso music with blend of Ghanaian high life music. Some men sat on chairs under a portable canopy while some came out of the house looking exhausted adjusting their trousers as they take their leave. He had never seen so many beautiful women in one place. Their hair was well done, fingers and toe nails polished with coat of coloring that hypnotizes the men as they troop in.

“Fine boy, why you dey look na?”, the words that snapped Chief K back to reality. “Come in and enjoy ya self, oya sit don here”. Wow, what a welcoming gesture from a beautiful lady Chief K thought. She gave him a seat and before you could say jack be nimble she sat right on his lap. Chief K is in shock. A woman on my lap? What can a young boy do at this point?

That night Chief K discovered the sweetness of a woman and he would ever take just one thing from that experience; it cost him 50 pounds and most of his capital for business.

He formed a particular likeness for a young 16 year old girl; Precious P. You dare not touch Precious P, as her mother was the leader of the prostitutes at the brothel and despite her chosen career; she had other plans for her virgin daughter. Chief K would bring gifts and secretly pass them on to Precious P. She also liked Chief K, as she had someone she could share stories she read from school with. She also hated Latin. 

As Chief K moved up the social status of a young merchant trading everything from cocoa to bed sheets, he had the opportunity meeting a certain major in the army. This young major was in charge of procurement for the three main barracks in the region. The friendship was mutual, as Major S was found of having sexual adventures with ladies whom Chief K easily provided from the brothel and Chief K was given consistent supply contracts; some of which the army paid up front and at twice the price the retail stores sold things. Chief K was living the life.

“I want a virgin”; those where the words that hit Chief K like a punch from Major S as they sat down to eat lunch. Major S continued the request “I have never had a virgin and I wish to have taste”; as Chief K gently drops his cup after a gulp of water, keeps a straight face like he could deliver on his promise yet wishing the request was just table talk and Major S would laugh it off and keep to the program. “I am being transferred to the North on Monday, and I will introduce you to the new procurement officer Major Z, he was my junior in the academy and we are like brothers. If you get me a virgin as a send off gift I will instruct Major Z to continue with the pact we had”. This was the toughest thing anyone would put Chief K through, he would rather take a Latin language exam than this; but his future was on the line and when there is a will, there is always away. “Give me till tomorrow, and I’ll bring someone, but she might not want to come to the barracks, we would have to get room a bit out of town.”Major S pauses robbing his fingers against his jaw, then he instructs, “Fine, let’s meet at Jumbo cross motel at 18:00 GMT (7pm to us civilians), I will be there, but make sure you don’t fail.”


To be Continued tomorrow .. share the post . Bless