PAINS AND GAINS PART 6

I fell on the bed and slept. I thought the only form of consolation for this wicked act could only come from a sleep. My dream was scarier than the reality. I woke up into the certainty I just been defrauded. I had to bear the consequences of what I do to people. I was broken; I still had some money but cannot rent a house again, buy a car then start buying things inside the house one after the other. Whatever these guys had done to me, was more advanced compared to what I knew. I had to learn it.

I walked into our popular cybercafé (Monte Carlo), if there is no solution here then ……… I called a friend and told him my experience with the whole Mrs Pamela stuff, and he laughed and laughed and laughed. He told me to buy him a drink and he would expose me to what they did to me. Opposite the café was a wine shop, thus I sat him down there and politely he said we’ll need to travel the next day.

Usen is a village on your way to Okada; all in Edo state. It’s the headquarters of African traditional religion in the state. If Christianity and Islam are acting too slowly; in Usen they hasten matters. It wasn’t a good ride as the road had so many potholes. But it was less than an hour for us to get there. The hut was rickety in look, and the people around look like idols. I’ve not seen that form of parochial setting before in my entirety. And something came to my mind; I am coming to meet poor people to teach me how to get rich. Do they forbid riches? Gradually it became clearer I’m about to do some rituals for money. But let me wait and listen to them, as I told the old woman my own side of the story.

She is not just old; she is ancient. With all her hair fully grey, and so many of her teeth pulled off her mouth, she walked out into her imaginary living room, stinking of odours, from many dead animals. She bowed to almost eight idols she called her fathers and mothers, before she gave room to listen to whatever we came for. 

My friend started the narration in the local language, but after sometime we switched to Pidgin English. Then I could understand better. She told us after listening to our full story and answering so many questions that we will succeed in this business we are doing. It’s just a simple thing we need to do. We would have to appease the gods and be closer to them. I thought to myself (hope not these stinking gods).  We must romance the gods, for the gods to move on our behalf to any nation we so desire. Any voice we want to imitate becomes imitated; anybody we want hypnotized, gets hypnotized, in short whatever we want gets done. 

I became a little furious; it sounds so well like a lie. How can we hypnotize whoever we went to hypnotize. Can we use these on Obasanjo or Bill Clinton? But she continued by saying we should bring our phone, she would soak it inside a concoction and whoever we speak with is submitting to our demands. Then I knew those guys have been here. It wasn’t a natural scam that they pulled on me. But how on earth would I drop my communicator inside one concoction to spoil it or what? 

The woman called one of her small deity looking girls, and told her to bring something. The gourd she brought contained small oil as she pulled her top. The long breast was resting on her body and she poured the oil on it and rubbed. She asked us both to bring fifty naira each for the activities of the gods, and I wondered how cheap they could be. I brought out a hundred naira for both of us, and she dropped it at the shrine again. She called my friend first and told him to come closer and suck her breast. He considered not going first, but afterwards proceeded and started sucking the dirtiest and most non appealing substance I’ve ever seen. I nearly puked when she started moaning exposing her teeth as dirty as it was, and my friend sincerely sucking the breast like it was a secondary school girl’s breast. He lasted almost twenty minutes before the woman finally pushed him away, and said some blessings on him. 

It was my turn I knew, but I wouldn’t do that for anything. She opened the gourd again and she poured the oil now on her private part. I didn’t wait for her to tell me what to do before I ran out of the house. I prefer to live in poverty than put my mouth at an old dirty woman’s private part. The race was not for the swift as the guards pursued me. I ran out of the compound following a supposed road until I discovered everywhere was becoming bush the more I run. I was also getting tired so quickly. My whole mind told me something was wrong but I didn’t want to accept. I started stepping on bushes and after a while I hit a road. The first car I saw stopped to help me, and I told him to please just run. He said he cannot go to Benin now because he came to see one old woman who is living inside the bush somewhere here in usen. A chill ran through my veins. I came down abruptly from his car, and I suffered so many injuries. The onlookers came to my rescue as they thought the man was a kidnapper. The effect of the fall had got me wounded and they rushed me to the hospital. It was when I woke up in the hospital that I saw two policemen beside my bed. My friend that sucked mama’s breast is dead and I’m accused of his death. 

My whole experience started from unemployment to a murder case. It took him two hours to die after sucking the breast; imagine me giving a head it would have been immediate. I tried locating mama’s house again but to no avail. I’m to be killed for what I know nothing about. For all I’ve scammed in the past I wish you forgive me. My name is Peter Jumbo………………

.... we apologize for the delay in the publication of the concluding part of this story.... it was based on network and a little bit of illness. stay connected as we serve the best by noon today titled: MOTHER IN LAW.. 

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