She sat still in the atmosphere of a cemetery. Lolade looked grim at the barren lines of her paper. Others with swollen pupil having held sleep hostage filled the gaps. She was at a loss of what to pen. The pen looked too heavy to engrave any meaningful writing on paper. She kept flipping the pages straightening the neat edges. She took a long look at the perfect squares of absetos ceiling wishing someone encrypted the answers there. How could a brain be so blank as if it was stuffed with toilet tissues?
“Five minutes more” Dr Olufemi said with sarcastic excitement.
He had a smiling face. He was happy that the lazy students have rightly murdered themselves on examination slab. Their rain of shame was hidden in the clouds of misty sky. Those who toiled all night submitted carrying the smiling faces of a lottery winner.
This is another carryover. She would sit in this dreary hall next year except Dr Peter helped him out. Peter would only help out after slitting his rigid fleshy pole into her pore.
“ How many course will I carry over” she keeps asking herself.
She knew exit was imminent that is why the sexual advances of Dr Peter were the thin cord that held her stay in the university.
Lola’s woes began on the gleaming night. With a pure chastity of a catholic nun, she arrived the University ready to breathe. Lola was just a fresher eager for an academic adventure. She had been regaled with tales of the air of freedom in the ivory tower. No one not her nagging mother would grumble that her skirt was too short or the jeans too tight. She can now ache the eyes of guys flaunting the deep ridges between her twin towers.
She knew she was beautiful but with the matured figures developing rightly, she stuns every passing male. Boys of the October season have started doing their crude arithmetic. How do they unravel her skirt and scribble her on the tainted list?
The application for the most promising fresher was out and Lola knew she had no match. He never allowed guys to stutter those three words carelessly .
“I love you”
“How does that affect me” she answers in brazen anger.
Their leprous hands could defile her beauty. The way she shook her ‘behind’ in the university campus asked a million questions. It was a mockery of the efficacy of the manhood.
Lola applied for the beauty pageant of the department. It was a night beauty was hawked on the stage. The buyers of these luscious goods stood backstage bargaining their costs. She creditably performed well causing tongue to spill saliva in torrents.
“ And the winner is Omolola Omosebi”
Lola who had been anonymous in the university campus suddenly took leap to stardom. She began to attract attention controlling visions of many. She moved around as if she immune from thrust of magical rod. The butterflies hung by the sidewalk inching to suck on her sweet nectar.
“Good Afternoon and where did you get my number?” she answered quickly
Bobo knew the antics of such ladies. They spoke to guys as if love was a terminal disease. He understood that when burning lust of the bedroom detains them, freedom from the soft moans becomes elusive.
Bobo made her phone restless. It beeped nearly every second. He sent multiple text messages and calls. He would stand and stare her tempting body from a distance. They finally agreed for a showdown at the lecture hall basement.
In a cluttered room with wooden chairs arranged in a semicircle, they met.
“Why have you been disturbing me? ”
“Don’t you have better things to do “ she continued
Bobo was not new to such anger. He knew how to cuddle the weak joints until he flipped over the hem of the skirt.
Bobo wasa tall handsome guy with wispy beard . He dressed in a denim jeans and red jersey matched with white sneakers. He began his sermons of love spoke rendering it in a broken tone. He explained how love has gripped his heart.
“I just can’t help it anymore” he with a dying in a spirit
“Lets be friends first, I promise” Bobo continued
“ I will prove to you and the world what love could mean”
Lola just walked away. Lola`s bountiful love was his saving grace. He was relentless until she spared him a thought. Lola lent him an inch of friendship but Bobo took a mile. It started with endless chatter in posh gardens, exquisite joints and expensive boutique in the city metropolis. Bobo believed girls were wares of shelf. With the right price and charming attitude, he got them.
Gradually on a windy afternoon, she lost it to him. The bloody thin membrane – the symbol of her chastity – was wrapped on the cap of his manhood. She was overexcited as she finally allowed the split of the legs .
After three erotic scenes, she became a nuisance to him. No smiles, free chocolates, no hang, late night calls or soft tender, she was now a numbskull. It was a straight face he now carried. It was full of dread and bore misplaced conscience.
Lola gave it up. She was sobbing all night. She now understands the brimming energy of boys lies in the hunger between their legs. After trips of fantasy, their promises of yore were empty mumblings.
After left starved and bare, she could not just stop craving for those sensual scenes. She wanted it badly. Gradually she started falling into cheap antics. The ugly ones who couldn’t piece words to a sentence became the barons of her body. Whenever she walks by, she steals imagination looking behind the zips. I searched for the stiff rod ripened for action. One, two three , four they left no mark. There was no counting meter hung close fleshy pore as she began to lose the tally of mounts. Dismal grades showed up with lengthy list of carryovers on the results page. Dr Peter did his bit. He traded the meagre marks for the sensual piece.
The stage was set again. Objects of beauty bestrode the stage flaunting their wares. They catwalked around the circular podium in a dim-lit hall. The boys of yore who ripped apart the thighs of Lola stood behind the hall. They were taking summaries of their flings and dates.
“ Whose left, whose Next” they all gave a weak chuckle.
“And the winner is Ada Adekambi”. The next victim.
Lola was supposed to be here carrying gleaming crown adorned with beads on the new Miss Sociology. She was in her hostel room taking drugs. Her footprints inched to the exterior of the university gate everyday. Legions of unsuccessful University applicants howled from outside begging her to join their movement. The carryover courses were multiplying and Dr Peter has done all he could. The University senate meets tomorrow to decide destinies. A new twist got added to her tale as she suspended her head for eventuality. Bodily lumps grew in her belly and who owned the budding foetus, Lola couldn’t tell.