Which should I use to kill him?

Which should I use to kill him?



My short-long story started when I gained admission into the university to study Bio-Medical Engineering. I was just eighteen. I loved Biology, Physics and Mathematics when I was in Secondary School and I’d always wanted to pursue a career in the Medical-Engineering profession. The future seemed so bright for me. It was promising. By my calculation, at age twenty-two, I would have completed my degree course in Bio-Medic Engineering, at age twenty-three I would have gone for my Youth Service, at age twenty-four I would have gotten a good job and at age twenty-five …….. I would have settled in marriage and become a mother afterwards.

Love at first sight would be the exact description I could give to what happened to me or maybe to us on a Tuesday morning, the second week for the new student’s registration at the engineering faculty. We had two queues; one for the male and the other for the female students, at the Dean’s office where we were to sign our faculty forms. We were to enter in pair, a male with a female. I was the fifth on the female’s queue and definitely I had to go in with the fifth guy on the male’s queue.

I looked sideways, to my left to see the guy.

OMG! I couldn’t believe another son of Adam could look this cute. I never noticed his presence all the while. His face was like those handsome Bollywood actor’s I only get to see in the movies. He has a very broad chest flanked by wide shoulders. He is tall, his beards; dark, shining and well carved and his hairy soft skin was fair-complexioned. His blue fitted-shirt was starched, properly ironed and was neatly tucked inside a white chinos-trouser that perched on his ankles- slightly revealing his white socks. His neck was laced with a tiny white-gold chain, with the glittering-cross-pendant hooked in-between his chest-buttons. His blue belt and blue footwear complimented his dressing. He had a colorful watch on his left wrist while a golden bracelet graced his right wrist.

My heart lurched delightfully and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. When he noticed this, he looked to his right and our eyes became four. I couldn’t even resist his charming smiles. But, before someone would start to wink at me, I faced front to mind my business. Shortly, I turned my neck again, and I still met his smiling-gaze. Shyly, I broke into smiles and I took my face away. My emotions were already obliging, I couldn’t hide this.

That Tuesday evening, I accepted to be his girlfriend. Yes, why should I start to act like I’m hard-to-get?

He is Jaiye Odumosu. He had been admitted into the aeronautical engineering department, the same faculty with me.

Our friendship got strengthened when I saw more things than just his good looks. Jaiye was brilliant, he helped me with tutorials in the general engineering courses we did together. He had a very nice family and family background. His Dad was the former Nigerian Ambassador to the USA where Jaiye was born which made him an American citizen. He flaunted his American accent. He had his early schools there. His mum rose to the rank of a director at the central bank before she retired. His three elder brothers were working with the diplomatic core. He was a rich kid with a well furnished luxury room and a sexy black Honda Bullet for mobility in the campus.

When my roommate saw my intimacy with him, she warned that I should be careful; “he might be one of these play-boys, can’t you see how he gets attention from every girl on campus?”

But to me, Jaiye wasn’t a flirt. He gave me all the attention I needed. He was always fond of me; he showered me with expensive gifts and introduced me to his friends as his wife-to-be. He was genuinely in love with me. I loved him too, albeit, he was quick at saying he loved me more.

Throughout the first semester in our first year, I declined several invitations to come visit him at home. My mum had warned me never to visit a guy at home. We had all our discussions inside his car, anytime he picked me after lectures to my hostel. He would kiss my forehead and he gave chaste hugs every night before he leaves.

When we resumed for the second semester, I thought I wasn’t fair enough to Jaiye, so I decided to start visiting his house.

On my first visit, I was amazed to see my pictures- framed and was hung at every corner of his room. Some were spotted on his TV, on his fridge, on his reading table and he even tucked one at the bottom right side of his mirror.

I was so excited, I jumped on his back, where he was lying in his bed and I didn’t know how we had our first kiss.

Suddenly, everything went silent, but I hummed and it was of excitement whenever I felt his hand on my body. Gradually, his hand groped around my chest to loose the first button on my blouse and his other hand, zipping-down my jean trouser. His index finger was almost touching my nipple and quickly I pushed him off my body and jumped out of the bed. “Jaiye, so ara e o! (Be careful), don’t you know I’m a virgin? What are you trying to do?” I stood up immediately.

He begged me, and he told me that he was only trying to help me because there’s a disease in every virgin girl and to get rid of it, there must be copulation. Wasn’t he sounding stupid? I can’t remember my mother mentioning this when she took me through sexual education. There is a disease in every virgin that the only cure to it lies in the pendulous thing hung in between the man’s laps? Jaiye must be sick.

I adjusted my bra, buttoned my blouse, zipped-up my trouser, removed the band of my braided-hair and re-packed it, and applied a light powder on my face, at the mirror. I picked my bag and made haste to leave his room, and then, he grabbed my hand from behind as I approached the door. He pleaded severally, saying he was only joking. One thing, anytime I looked into Jaiye’s face, I would nod in agreement. I believed him; indeed it must be a joke.

He dropped me off at my hostel block that evening, but I sensed something was wrong with my boyfriend; he didn’t even wait a minute unlike before that we would still talk for hours before he leaves. I don’t want to lose Jaiye, and I can’t just give my body to him like that. For God’s sake my virginity mattered!

In sobriety, worried about Jaiye’s worries, I entered my room. I wanted to tidy up my bed so I could just sleep, and when I picked my pillow to re-lay my bed, underneath was my roommate’s phone. I picked it up and my eyes got stuck to what she had set as her wall paper “virginity is not a sign of dignity, it is lack of opportunity.” Hmm, I couldn’t help thinking about this.

The following morning, I walked into Jaiye at the faculty walk-way. His perceived anger was obvious and was easily traced to what transpired between us the evening before. Jaiye won’t even hug me that morning. Am I not going to dance to the tune of the man I love? I was eventually going to submit everything to Jaiye.

I told him he should come and pick me after the day’s lectures so we could go to his home together. He shrugged like he didn’t care, but he came for me.

When we arrived at his house, and I told him to lock the door. He screeched with laughter as he rushed to the door and before he turned back, I had already pulled off my blouse. He stood by the door, wondering. I drew him close and pressed his head to my bosom. Then, I whispered in his ear “Jaiye, take the disease away now!”

I didn’t really enjoy it, neither did he. Every time he tried to get in, I felt the slight pain and I pushed him away. And when it seemed as if I was bleeding, I had to stop him. All the same, I think it was fun. It was an experience. I slapped him when he begged to the finish the round.

Years rolled on and we couldn’t control our libidinous desires anymore, that anytime I visited him, we had it. Just the foreplay and I’ll always end up cleaning my body in his bathroom. Now, I had even lost count on the rounds we do have.

Three weeks to the end of the second semester I noticed something; my red visitor hasn’t come for almost two months. Does it really mean I was pregnant? I never had one before so I couldn’t say. Foolish me.

I told my boyfriend and quickly he opted for abortion if it was pregnancy. I didn’t fight it. He took me to a private clinic where I was confirmed to have been carrying Jaiye’s baby for seven weeks.

How could this be? How do I face it? What an unwanted pregnancy it was for both of us.

I took several pills but my flow didn’t come.

Later, Jaiye took me to another private clinic; he told me they were going to get rid of the pregnancy at once here, that I shouldn’t worry, it won’t take time. I was asked to climb on the gurney and put my back flat down with my laps widely opened, just the way I do lay in his bed whenever we had it. I found myself in a theater room. The doctor didn’t even use an anesthetic injection for me. My eyes were wide open as I saw series of tools called dilators pierced through my cervix in the D & C surgery. The only thing I could do was to sob, sob, and sob “Jaiye! Jaiye!! Jaiye!!!”……………………………..

I thought I would die, but God saved my life.

The doctor told me to expect my flow in the next four to five days. Jaiye stood by me and even loved me beyond my expectation.

He took me for lunch few days later, and while we were eating, he asked me jokingly how many kids I’d like to have. I told him four and I asked him same question too, and he said two, saying if I know I want to marry him, I had better reduced it to two. I buried my sorrows in laughter.

When my flow came on the fifth day as said by the doctor, it appeared abnormal. Blood rushed out like water fall. I was scared. I almost lost my life because I bled this way for two months nonstop!

Jaiye wouldn’t leave me. At a point, I wanted to avoid him, reflecting on what I went through, but he won’t stop showing and telling me how much he still wanted me. And there is one thing; looking into Jaiye’s face…..I couldn’t just help it…

I don’t know, however, maybe I should call it love or stupidity? We soon forgot, and what happened to us in our first year repeated itself in the second, third, fourth and to the fifth year that we graduated. We stole sex in his car, his room, bathroom, on his reading table. And sadly, every time I enjoyed the pleasure in between my laps; I had also gone through the pains from the dilators in every D & C surgeries I went through at five different clinics.

At graduation, I had a certificate; second class upper in Biomedical-Engineering, award plaques given to me and Jaiye as the best couple on campus for five academic sessions. A certificate from my Fellowship. An award plaque as the most beautiful graduating student in engineering faculty, and I also sensitively kept in my file, the five receipts for the five D & C surgeries I had for Jaiye. My pains and my gains.

When my name came out for the NYSC posting, I was posted to the same State with Jaiye.

Shocked, until he later told me that he begged one of his uncles to help him manipulate our postings. He just wanted us to be together.

Again, it happened after the camp fire night at the NYSC orientation camp. It was behind the black storex water tank. Jaiye played a fast one on me, in a coded way.

I missed my period when we left camp and I told him we were going to let it stay this time, at least we were done with school. He disagreed, saying he wanted to take me home to his parents as an untouched woman so they can approve our marriage. Untouched indeed. But, since I wanted to live the rest of my life with him, I agreed, and we flushed it out again the sixth time. I mean the sixth time. I was foolish.

Now, I’m 45. My lovely, caring and darling husband, Jaiye Odumosu, 46. My lengthy years and intellectual efforts at the World Health Organization has earned me the post of Country Representative. My husband on the other side would be the DG of the Aviation College, after years of being a pilot.

Our 20yrs of marriage is full of career accomplishments, several business achievements but our home is without kids. Jaiye couldn’t do it the way he used to do it those days that it instantly became pregnancy. In twenty years now, I have never tested positive to pregnancy.

Anytime my mother in-law went to their village and brought those herbs for me and my husband, when she leaves, I’d ask my husband if he thinks that’s the solution to our problem.

One day I brought his attention to what he said at the date we had after having my first abortion. He wanted two children, I said mine should be four.
I told Jiaye that God gave us six; two for him and four for me, but we never wanted them actually. He became embittered and told me not to say that again.

I’m in my pre-menopausal age, and I have accepted my fate. My husband has been very faithful to me, and he wouldn’t touch any woman except me. I would not even allow him. But that night that he came home and called me to the room, he told me an extremely strange story.

Jaiye had to pull all his guts to say this. How he met a lady when he went for his PhD in the States fives years ago, and how the lady became his mistress. He didn’t do it deliberately. My husband claimed. He had to mull it over before he actually voiced out now. He asked me if I could remember the day our family doctor excused him outside of his office; my womb couldn’t hold a baby anymore was what our doctor told him behind my ears.

And now the mistress had called his family that she got pregnant and has given birth to a set of twins ,two years ago in the USA. And above all, his mother had gone to the States and was on her way to our house with the babies and their mother.

“Darling, we’ll only take the kids. I’m not planning to take a second wife. No” Jaiye added in a teary tone.

I wanted to scream and bite his ear but I was totally speechless, moody, and my husband went on his knees.
“Rolake my dearest wife, please be happy about what I just told you. It is four your sake, the kids are yours.”

I buried my anger in a faked smile and nodded in agreement to all he’s been saying for almost an hour on his knees. He used his handkerchief to wipe the tears on my face and pulled my head to his chest. I took his hands off me, and again he reached out to en-fold me in his arms and he scrub my back gently. But the only question boiling on my mind was “which should I use to kill him; knife, gun or poison?”
I am Rolake Odumosu, the wife of the late Jaiyeola Odumosu.

The author fEMI is currently working on his first novel, ‘Echoes in the Web.’
Kindly follow the author on twitter @fEMIoWOLABI


13 thoughts on “Which should I use to kill him?” by fEMI (@femtrols)

  1. the is quite interesting, i love the flow of the story, the delivery was very good if not perfect…Keep up the good Job.

  2. hmm… He’s dead anyway but you need not kill. You should live with the harvest of the seed of murder you sowed with him…

    Nice piece bro.. really enjoyed it.

  3. Good story, I think she should use a poison; it’s very effective. Really cool feature image, I borrowed it.
    One typo though – It is four(for) your sake, the kids are yours.
    Well done.

  4. Bombs are more effective these days, just add it to his favourite meal and the deed is done. Well written

  5. Very well written. I was drawn in all through.

    Very well done.

  6. take heart- good flow, nice story

  7. Again, this is cool.

  8. First flow: Nice…
    PS: Might change later… hee hee hee. Well done on this. Nice.

  9. Second flow: I think there are lots of tense issues with the work. The story is primarily written in the past perfect tense but you find places where the present continuous just creeps in: ‘His face was like those handsome Bollywood actor’s I only get to see in the movies. He has a very broad chest flanked by wide shoulders.’ In the first sentence, past…second, present. This distorted the flow of the story severally. There were few minor errors here and there…
    A little brush up on the errors and typos, a big shaking up of the tenses and the story would work.
    Maybe, you should just look towards having the whole story in past tense till the very last line where you can use the present continuous… Hmm, there are several ways to make this better…
    Oh well, Femi, this is a good read but it can be made better with some reworking. Well done man on this piece…Best wishes on the novel too. Cheers!

  10. You need to polish it, go with Sueddie’s flow and make this better than it is now.
    Nice story…Well done…$ß.

  11. Great story…

  12. I can’t agree any less with @sueddie

    But then, @femtrols you are incredibly good on this one and I know you can only get better, right?

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