Dimeji leaned against an abandoned broken down commercial bus that had become a street prop and resting rendezvous for most of the area boys in the vicinity. He lit the rolled up weed and pulled on it till its embers lit up like a vehicle’s taillights.
He made an ugly shape with his mouth and he let out the thick smoke as the weed’s effect burrowed into his system. He made a quick scan of the area, seeking opportunities. The garage was noisy with buses lined up and their conductors bellowing with taut neck muscles and rippling veins for passengers to load up. Street hawkers consisting of kids, young men and fashionably garbed ghetto damsels darted to and fro in and out of the lined buses to get their wares sold. The next bus that was to depart had only two passengers so there was still enough time before Dimeji accosted its driver to pay his dues.
He put out the weed, tucked the remnant in the breast pocket of his worn out sleeveless jacket which he wore over a white singlet gone brown with age and a pair of green locally sown jeans, and sauntered out of the garage.
He needed to find out where Silifa was. There had been rumours that she had been selling more than just oranges but he didn’t care as long as she shared some of the cash she made with him. It was no longer news that many of the female hawkers had been delving into undercover part-time prostitution while trading on the streets.
Dimeji was not dumb; he knew his girl very well and he knew that it was a matter of time before a local beauty like her became one of them and the local whore every area boy wanted to sleep with. Silifa on the other hand cherished him; she would do anything to keep him to herself hence her constant jealousy anytime she saw him in the company of any of the other girls around the garage or market.
Though rogue and ghetto-bred, Dimeji was still a handsome hunk with a build that mirrored the image of famous actor, Djimon Honsou. The ghetto ladies kept throwing themselves at him, and many of them paid dearly for it – in form of swollen faces, bite and scratch marks courtesy Silifa.
He walked past several roadside shops where Igbo merchants sold generators. They hailed him and he acknowledged their salutes; he was a force to reckon with in this territory. He stood by the roadside watching out for any commercial bus manned by his buddies that he could latch on to. He needed to make his journey further up the road to where Silifa was hawking oranges in-between cars in a traffic hold up.
A silver Honda Odyssey mini bus with shining rims drove past him and parked some distance ahead of him. He was just beginning to admire the vehicle when its reverse lights lit up and it backed-up to where he stood. Its windows were tinted and he couldn’t see who was at the wheel, though he could make out the outline of a well dressed female.
He smiled more to himself than to the mini bus in front of him. Here was an opportunity. This woman had probably lost her way and needed direction. He would offer to help direct and he would expect to get paid a token too.
The automatic window on the passenger side came down with a soft whirring noise and Dimeji felt cool conditioned and freshened air caress his bony and partially scarred face. A very fair complexioned woman, probably in her early 30s in an elegantly designed red and white Ankara outfit sat behind the wheel looking at him. She wore short locks on her head, her neck and hands bore expensive jewelry; their glitter instantly intimidated Dimeji. Her face was well made up but her eyes were hidden behind sunshades. She smiled at him and said nothing.
Then she removed her sunshades and looked at him in the face.
Big bright beautiful brown eyes sitting under well sculpted and arched eyebrows held him.
A sweet smile tucked behind glistening rosy lips sent ecstatic electricity feathering down his spine. He felt the world around him become a blurry flash of movements; the only thing he could see for some reason was this beauty behind the wheel. His trembling hands moved and found the handle to the door of the mini bus. A soft snapping sound rang through the vehicle as she released the central lock and Dimeji found himself climbing into the passenger seat beside her.
The last thing he remembered seeing was the automatic window on his side going back up and the woman’s soft hand touching his dark forearm.
*******************
Silifa balanced the tray of oranges expertly on her head and walked slowly along the sidewalk; her big hips struggling under the tight grey jeans worn under a sweat soaked yellow tank top. Beads of sweat plastered her face smearing her cheap make-up and making her face glisten like well oiled suya on a barbecue grill. She was dead tired and needed to get some rest before going out to hawk the streets again. She wondered where on earth Dimeji was. He had promised that he would check on her that day but he never showed up. That was unlike him because he was a stickler for keeping his word; an attitude that earned him respect amongst every area boy and street urchin.
She slowed down her walk as a strange sight greeted her eyes.
Her boyfriend was disembarking from a nice looking vehicle with a woman at the wheel. The mini bus sped off and he stood there by the roadside looking about him like a lost puppy. There was a docile expression on his face and he wobbled as he walked.
She hurried her steps and caught up with him.
‘Dimeji!’
He said nothing but stood there looking at her, face sunken, eyes drunken, blank in stare and totally oblivious of where he was and who stood before him.
Silifa looked closely into his face. Initially a bout of jealousy had hit her on seeing him coming out of a nice vehicle with a female at the wheel but it didn’t last the moment she looked at him.
Something was not right.
He looked drunk yet he wasn’t; unconscious yet still on his feet.
Silifa looked towards the fast disappearing Odyssey in the distance and back at Dimeji.
‘Dimeji! What happened?’ she hollered in yoruba.
Dimeji held onto her shoulder and strained his eyes in recognition as his senses began to clear. Silifa helped him stay his balance while still holding onto the tray of oranges on her head. She was baffled; she had never seen him in such a vulnerable state before. Dimeji had always been known to have the ‘liver’ to stand strong after several bottles of local gin or beer. What on earth had he been given that seemed to knock him out of reason?
She needed to get him home. Maybe after resting for a while and fully getting himself back, he’d be able to recollect what had happened.
‘Come, let’s go,’ she said pulling him along. He followed her without a word. His mind was still clouded and in his semi consciousness, he fought with his reasoning faculty to figure out what had happened…
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Afronuts @Afronuts
Everything around me has a story to tell.
I'm here to tell it.Go to Afronuts's profile, and read more of his/her posts.
Nicely told Afronuts, also enjoying your characters. It sure looks like there is a second part cos something happened in that car that I am so curious to know
Well done bruv.
You mean a third part!
Yes sir, I mean a third part .it sure looked like there’s one inthe making.
yeah. There is a third part…I’m just not sure what part this story will stop by the time i’ve loaded it all…
just keep em coming its worth the read.
Dosent matter bro, as for me I am infected wit the strange woman bug and can’t wait to know what the secret is and wat next
lol…wait and see…
Oh now, Afro! You only succeeded in heightening the suspense. When will you tell us whats up with these women and their jazz-eyes.
Great one. I enjoyed reading.
lol! @ ‘jazz-eyes’
Thanks Uche.
Exactly, I am wondering why he seem to think a part three is not necessary.
Haba…I never said there won’t be a part three oh…when did i say that paul?
You never said that sir but that was what you made it sound like, glad you changed your mind
Finally..the long awaited continuation! and now he’s left us wanting more AGAIN!!!!
Good work! please who is this woman and wat is she doing to these poor guys…please cant we have just a hint…
You want a hint? lol…You wan spoil story be that!
I haven’t read part one yet, so i’m going to look for it
one quick question though: Afronuts is a guy?!??
I…I had no idea!
Yes, Afronuts is a guy.
You can check people’s genders by going to their profile page.
- Go to this link: http://www.naijastories.com/members/ or click on ‘MEMBERS’ in the green menu bar at the top of the page
- Search for the member in question by typing their name in the Search box at the top right of the page. This should bring up a link with the person’s name, as well as their avatar and their points.
- Click on the link with the person’s name, or you can click on their avatar – that will take you to their page;
- On their page, just below their avatar, you will see a ‘Profile’ link. Click on that – it will take to their profile page.
Thanks for the informate, Tola!
No problem, Afronuts.
By the way, do you have plans to finish this story?
whoa! How could I totally forget that one.
Well…I would finish it if everyone feels its okay and worth finishing…
I guess I need the encouragement to go on with it.
Now why on earth do people keep mistaking me for a chick? Is it because I have strong female characters in my stories?
Hmmm, you asked the question and answered it tioo, I have been wondering how you manage to pull it off having such strong female characters, it makes you kinda feminine.
Haaa!! Noo! Me feminine ke? No be so oh! Infact, I have stories with strong males too…don’t get carried away by my female characters
i keep beating myself on different ideas this ladies could be up to..i certainly know they aren’t good sha..
nice 1 afronut… keep up the telling
keep writing.
Like I told frebby…if i talk, story go spoil!
Wyl describing the beauty in the mini van and how dimeji felt seing her,…..u took time, and care as if u were eating a hot bowl of eba n ogbono soup made with extraterestrial condimnets….nuff sed.
LMAO! Chei! This is the most powerful comment of the day!
Eba and ogbono soup made with extraterestrial condimnets ke? Man…your mind is loaded oh!
Very good story. You have done very well to keep the suspense. I know you’ll free us someday.
Keep it up my guy!
LOL @ ‘free us someday’…Na wah oh. Did I hold you all that captive?
U no wan free us? Hehehe. Nice one again…
lol…bros…no be my fault…na my imagination
Well done Afronuts. I enjoyed this. Looking forward to the 3rd part.
Thanks. 3rd part soon to be up.
Gosh! You sure know how to weave a tale…..
And you have done it to us again, held our minds in suspense. Ok o…..
Well done!!!
lol…no vex oh! I’m just trying not to feed you with too much at the same time!
Nicely put together. And about the suspence, good work. Just watch out for avoidable repetitions that could make your work monotonous. For instance “…a street prop and resting rendevous…” gave the idea of abandoned. I hope you understand.
I feel your swagger though.
Actually thats what I meant – that it was abandoned and used as a resting rendevous by the street boys…
Thanks for the notice though.
Very descriptive, like you are in the scene. i love it.
Thats what i was hoping to achieve. Thanks
nice one here
I’m not sure i’ve read the first part…but this one is engaging. I like the suspense and the whole thing.
I just knew the woman was up to no good. Just how much damage did she do our ‘local champion’?
Can’t wait.
if you’ve not read the first part…you should because it sets a tighter trap than this one. trust me
Bros…you no dey miss from first part like that now. Check it out like Xikay talk.
vu.
What language are this Mr. @colotrends?
lol…beats me too.