MOTHER IN LAW PART 2

The buffet was great as I was esteemed. I felt it was my wedding day. She introduced me to Uncle Fash, Engr Ehis, Auntie Gloria, Rev Sis Mammush, Justice Slater and his wife. These people were all in attendance, and three other people who never became relevant. Everyone asked questions and prayed for us. The slow music gave a free flow to the food being served. She made it look like we’ve known for a while. I was so surprised by the action of the family. Even though Patrick was the only son; that doesn't give room for the whole reception given to a normal girl like me, who is not even respected in my own house. I enjoyed the day afterwards, but I was really shy.

The photographer was of national class, and the designer came to take my measurement. She told me I needed to go for masters, and if I needed a job, calls would be made. Everything seems to me like I was Alice in wonderland. Patrick was comfortable with all that was going on, and then I knew I was in the right family. The mum pulled me inside the room with Auntie Gloria and asked when they are coming to see my parents. There is no reason for us to wait any longer. I just thought of something; we are less than three weeks in this relationship and you are talking about marriage. The bamboozled state I was ended with me saying very soon and that was a mistake I never would make again. Gift were coming in from all side for me. My phone was changed that day and the mum told me if I needed money I should tell her. 

How wonderful could a family be if not like the Odekus. The gist was long when telling Betty and our other friend. They were amazed and envious. They felt good things come around me only but today I feel the opposite. 

Patrick’s dad was a former ambassador of Nigeria to Poland, Belgium and Jamaica. He has 11 companies with a net worth of $350million spread around the world. They are so conservative on the outside that you don’t know. The man as I heard was a disciplinarian, thus you don’t exclaim the potentials of a billionaires son in his sight. Patrick said if dad was still alive; all these would not have been possible. I thanked God he was dead. 

I had a free entrance to the Odeku’s residence and I now make decisions in the house. My parents are beginning to be worried about my attachment to Patrick and his family. This made my mum call me to order. She tried advising me about taking things slow, and getting to know the guy and his family better, before getting deeper into the relationship. At this point I knew my mum was jealous. My dad was tired of me already, and he knew my mind has left his house, I saw myself more as Mrs Matilda Oluwatoyin Odeku. 

One faithful afternoon while waiting for Patrick to return from Port Harcourt, his mum came to his room to meet me. She is bored most of the time, thus she needs somebody to talk with. I sat up as she sat close to me on the bed and said let’s talk woman to woman talk. I felt a little panicky with the tone she started with. 

My daughter: hope my son is satisfying when it comes to sex?

How do I answer that question? I was in that house that day waiting patiently to be positioned by Patrick and here is his mum asking if he was good at sex. 

I smiled and said; it’s alright ma. She jumped up and started acting furious. She wore her glasses and brought out a magazine. Opening to the middle page she read out loud: ten ways not to loose your woman to another man …… No 1: satisfy her with sex

I laughed when I discovered it was those magazines they put titles for people to buy. I wasn’t moved any longer as we laughed and played about it. 

When Patrick came back I showed the magazine to him and we both laughed. I watched him strip and I couldn’t hold myself any longer looking at a man I love naked under the shower. Slowly I undressed and joined him in the cleaning process. Rubbing our bodies against each other under the shower, thus finding a penetration that was heavenly was made possible. The bath took almost thirty minutes and when we came out of the shower we were both drained. It was later I discovered the mum has been eavesdropping at my soundtrack.

The whole affair went on like that until the next six months. The pressure on me to get married was now much this time, that I felt I was wrong not getting married. I accepted the offer and told my mum about it. She was trying to drag it, thus I moved straight to my father. In all pleasure he danced to the proposal as he told me to invite the boy for questioning. My dad followed the normal traditional way of getting to know your prospective son in law, but gave him no stress at all. Mummy met all the pastors in Abuja to pray for the wedding, and thank God none of them saw anything wrong. 

The day was fixed and Patrick’s mum took the wedding like a project. She travelled to four countries to buy things for the wedding. We did three pre honeymoons tours before the wedding, and the whole world was to be invited to the Odeku’s only son’s wedding ceremony. Holy trinity was to be the venue, where sixteen Reverend Fathers was to grace the occasion. Three Bishops and two archbishops were also in attendance. The velodrome in the stadium was the reception center and all television stations covered it. It was a glorious event, not to be forgotten in a long while. I was fagged out and tired, but there was this strength I reserved for my first night as a Mrs. I needed to use it for my husband. 

We have agreed to stay a little at their family house before moving out. Our chalet had been arranged beside the mansion, but inside the same compound. The normal washing of feet was done; aunties and mummies welcomed me into the family. I looked back and discovered my friends and family were leaving and what that means is I’m no longer going home. I was now a member of the Odeku’s family. I was going to miss my house but not so much. I didn’t know I was crying until my mother in law held me so close and pet me. I stopped crying and walked into our chalet. My husband was there waiting like a hungry wolf to devour a prey as I entered. He held me so close and we started to kiss. Now that he owns everything, I was so free with him. I gave him every part of my body, and at the peak of the action his phone rang. He looked at it and surprisingly it was his mother. 

Hello Patrick, please come and help me put this DSTV on Africa magic………

MOTHER IN LAW PART 1

I have always heard mothers in law are hard to deal with; thus I made up my mind I would have the best. I don’t know how that would be, but I knew it was possible. The two guys I first dated have lost their mums, and I felt God was answering my prayers on how to deal with this menace called mother in law. 

Retrospectively I had the best mother in law, but presently I declare my husband an orphan. That woman to me is no longer living. She has become most miserable part of my life, and the reality of her existence all the time gives me pain. 

She was my best friend, a mother I never had, a prayer warrior and all you could need in a hubby’s mother. Patrick’s mum was an angel in disguise. I couldn’t believe a mother like her existed. Sincerely she was better than my mum to me. I was pampered in a house that I was about making my home. Part of the reasons the relationship got into marriage was because of Patrick’s mum. She had invited me for all events and occasions going on in their house. I was a daughter to her. From the first year of our relationship, she always supported me when we have issues, and gave me advices that I feel my mum lacked. She drew me so close that I changed my thought on mothers in law. When my friends find it hard to go see their boyfriend’s mum, I felt something was wrong with them. I had pleasure people thrive to have. I loved Patrick’s family house more than my house. I was a queen, and thus I was celebrated. I knew this would continue once Mrs Odeku lives. 

Patrick Odeku was a guy I met in a mall. I was hot and I knew it. He was also a fine boy and we both were rigmarolling around the whole mall. He was with a friend; same with me. I was game for a chat and a hang out, but my culture doesn't support me talking to a guy first. I waited while Betty made the first move. She moved towards Patrick to ask a question only God knows. She tapped Patrick from the back and he excused himself immediately towards me. He was polite with his greeting as he introduced himself. He was so straight to the point and his courage swept me off my feet like epilepsy. He rolled my trolley for me, and then I started picking everything I didn’t even need from the mall. He paid for everything, and invited me and Betty for a drink. Who am I to say no……… I blushed and played and sincerely that was one of the best days of my life. He didn’t ask me out but he never stopped telling me “you are so beautiful”. 

Betty found it difficult to relate with Julius, she’s the out spoken type but with her lack of beauty, most men don’t get interested. They both worked with Chevron and their cadence was special.  Patrick was not the perfect guy I always thought of as my Romeo, but honestly I will be insatiable to let him loose. We stayed a while at salamander café before he drove me gently to my father’s house. Zone six was a place he would soon be visiting on a regular basis and Maitama was about turning to my home. After dropping Julius and Betty, he came back to my house. I had forgotten my other phone in his car. I gave a hug that sent a message across.

We spoke almost all night and didn’t deny the truth that feelings roamed our thoughts. I liked him enormously but there was going to be a problem. Patrick is a smooth talker and a ladies’ man. He has almost everything ladies need and that’s not a good think to behold in Abuja. The ladies here can fight themselves even for a cripple not to talk of Patrick. So I swore to protect my relationship with everything I can. 

The next few days were like honeymoon. I built up the friendship so well that I forgot I had female friends. He did everything I wanted, and I felt like a woman when I’m with him. All my friends and family knew there is a guy that has taken my breath away; but I know as much as Patrick we are still friends. Nine days after we met was the first time he introduced me as his girlfriend and I was shocked. 

We had gone to his house to pick up some documents he wants to send to a friend. As usual I sat in the car, and looking at the balcony I saw a woman reading a magazine at the balcony. It seems she was looking at me. So I came down from the car; with my two knees touching the ground, greeted her good afternoon ma. She replied with a wave and a prolonged greeting. 

When Patrick returned to the car, he was to bring me upstairs to see mum. I rearranged my clothes and checked my lipstick not to look too sophisticated. I walked gently swallowing the chewing gum that was now the noise maker, and knelt a second time to greet her. She pulled me up and hugged me while Patrick did the introduction. Mummy this is my girlfriend Matilda …… and most likely the last girlfriend I will have. The mum danced a little; like she was surprised at what her son said. She looked at me again and pulled me close. Matilda my daughter, how are you doing? How is mummy and daddy? What of your siblings. She was a mother. She prayed a little for both of us, as Patrick told her we are rushing to the airport to send a parcel. She got my number and promised me lunch the next day. I was dumbfounded as I said no problems mum.

The acceptance was subconscious, and with a first peck we were leaving the mum’s presence. As we drove out of the gate, I looked at Patrick and asked, are you serious about what you told your mum? He stopped the car in the middle of the road and said yes. I smiled and told him he should have said that to me first, and as if we were horny birds we started kissing. It was the honk from a trailer that gave us consciousness. We laughed as we continued the drive to the airport. 

We kissed multiple times that night in front of my house as I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come. The lunch wasn’t the excitement; Patrick was it. The night was slow as I couldn’t sleep. I needed to be with Patrick but with his mum first. I rehearsed what to tell the mother tomorrow, and with my script I was good to go. 

It was 1.30 pm and Patrick was outside. He had called me and I walked outside with my baby sister. She loves chocolate, thus he bought the normal snickers for her. Seeing Patrick I got the strength that was missing and now I needed to know if this mummy is who I wanted or not.  The gateman opened the gate and Patrick drove in. We were chatting as we walked into the living room. Nine adults I later got to know stood up, and welcomed me to the house. The supposed lunch was converted to a feast all by my mother in law ……..

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.. 

add the storyteller on 2A5ED99A or follow :@wolfaxdiaries

PAINS AND GAINS PART 5

Mrs Pamela Anthony came into my life also, from a reply to my bulk mails I’ve always sent. She was an old woman who needed to be loved again, thus I presented myself as a widower who needed love too. I wasn’t a Nigerian but an African and she was a Canadian. Progressively, our love got impressive. We chatted all night, saying erotic things and turning ourselves on. We sent voice messages on yahoo messenger, and did nude pictures sometimes, to expose the level of our commitment to ourselves.  Honestly; only distance was the problem. 

Pamela told me she needed to meet a Nigerian. I was shocked when she said that. I asked what she wanted to do with a Nigerian and she sent me a mail. She said there is a truth about her she has never told me. That night we chatted for over two hours at a stretch.  We talked about her family and her late husband. She said she needs someone who can come to Canada and invest some money. She said she has an inheritance grant that is huge and she is choosing a Nigerian because they are the most desperate and conclusive. A Nigerian can get anything done at any cost. She didn’t disclose the amount anyway but I was fully interested. She said she wants to transfer the inheritance grants into the business. That is the major reasons she is looking for a husband. I tried to figure everything out as I browsed to confirm there was something called inheritance grant, or was her husband the real Mr Anthony of Canada. 

The man had been a very wealthy man with estates spread across the country. In his testament, he had asked for his wife’s denial from all his property, until she has started showing a sense of being responsible. I was amazed by the man’s request and I knew at a point white men can be stupid. My arrangements changed and I started planning on how to invest money in Canada. My love for Pamela intensified this period, and all I was looking at was getting money from my other clients to make the best living to come in Canada. 

We agreed we are going into real estate also, and agriculture, thus we registered a company online. We worked out the intricacies of success in the business, and we argued we don’t need a business consultant. We worked out everything on our own. Pamela is a meticulous person; if you don’t greet her in the morning, she gets furious. If you don’t pick your calls, you have to explain. I was just coping with all these because I know it would soon be over. We agreed we needed sixteen thousand Canadian dollars to get the investment on the row. 

The week after the company’s registration I chose to tell Pamela the truth. One faithful evening I called her and told her the truth about myself. I confessed being a Nigerian and told her based on the hardship, I scam people for a living. I told her I wasn’t supposed to tell her the truth, but with the feelings I’ve grown for her in these last three weeks, I cannot but just tell her the truth. She cried and cried for up to two weeks and said it was going to be very hard to build trust in me again. I convinced and apologized to her, and afterwards she accepted. She told me to stop doing the work, and said we should live a normal life together. She asked how many people I have scammed, and I obviously reduced the number. I intensified my scam works and payments were coming in. it was three months with Pamela now, and I’ve hit the target of sixteen thousand Canadian dollar but I need to make extra cash for myself before travelling. Now I knew Pamela inside out. I knew where she stayed, knew her neighbours and her staff. She was a real part of me. Our talks ranged from the best sex she has ever had, to the fact she can’t stay without sex for long when she’s in a relationship. I started giving  her orders from Nigeria. She sent her measurements for me to make native wears for her which I did.  I had made almost three thousand dollars extra and now it was turn for me to come to Canada. 

It wasn’t easy selling off my things in Benin. The prices were not impressive at all. She had also gotten a property for me in Ontario which I could buy. The purchase would have been reasonable before I travel or I should just initiate it. I sent the first part of the money to Pamela which was eight thousand Canadian dollars. She sent to me the papers and actualization receipt. I went to the embassy with the papers and my visa was denied because I’ve not fully paid. She reported to foreign missions department in Canada about me and they gave me another hearing. 

We both agreed to pay fully for the property so they don’t have any reason to deny me again. I sent the remaining part of the money. Then the confirmatory receipts were sent to me. I have sold everything this time; all I had left was my car. I’ve left my house and was staying with Esosa. Even Esosa doesn't know I was buying a property. In Benin; as opened as everybody is, no one tells the other what he or she is doing. I waited for two weeks to get my visa and those two weeks were the longest two weeks of my life. My tailor has finished sowing Pamela’s clothes but I didn’t collect it because I don’t want anyone questioning me. She has started the process of inheritance retrieval. We were going into a wedding and the church was aware I was coming. All was set for me to live in the life I expected. 

I had a plan. I had made up my mind on how Pamela would die. I would inherit everything and change my name. All plans were on point as I closed the accounts I didn’t need. 

The text message read three weeks, thus I went to the embassy to collect my passport.  Collection was in the afternoon so I had to wait. Lagos is full of traffic hold up, but I didn’t mind every time I made the trip. It was a trip to somewhere. When I finally got the visa; I was given a multiple entry visa for five years. I called Pamela immediately to tell her, and she screamed on the phone. I was scared for her. Hope her neighbours didn’t report her for disturbance? She couldn’t hide her happiness. I left Lagos for Benin that day to sell my car, buy my ticket and finish up what could be done. When I settled at home I picked my phone and called Pamela and to my surprise a guy picked the phone and told me: congratulations and welcome to Canada in a short while. Guy I be Benin boy no worry yourself. Then I knew the scammer have been scammed. I fell on the bed and ………….