I lied and left the house.
I am not an expert when it comes to telling lies; I get caught easily. But I practiced hard for the lie I told this evening; I locked myself in my room and tried to convince my self the lie I had planned out was foolproof. My strong biblical upbringing might be the reason I found it difficult to tell good lies, I had become so accustomed to speaking the truth and doing things the right way that my parents always noticed my discomfiture whenever I told a little lie.
I had just finished my WASSCE examinations and considering that I attended a seminary boarding school far from home made it impossible for me to have close friends at home: I spent more time in school than home, so most of my friends were from school. Whenever my parents left for work and my younger brother for school, I would lie on my bed and browse through the social network Facebook, adding girls with pretty pictures to my friends’ list. I didn’t have anything to discuss with these fair ladies when they accepted my requests: The seminary school was boys only, so I grew up interacting with mostly boys. PHCN were not helping issues, I would have appreciated if they called off the strike they embarked on, that way I could get myself busy watching the movies I bought from school.
I was managing my boring, uneventful life and getting used to it until a fateful Wednesday afternoon: my Mum called on the phone and asked me to go buy her vegetables from the market before she returns from work – my elder sisters were in the University. I hate going to the market, but since I knew dinner depended on the vegetables, I upped and went.
That was how I met her.
‘Her’ was the girl who sold the vegetables to me, she was about my age, and she was pretty – very pretty. I didn’t know of any cool way to start a conversation with her without looking stupid. I couldn’t get her off my mind; I kept on drawing up scenarios in my head on what lines to use if I saw her again.
I wanted to see her again.
I saw her again. In the church during service. God forgive me; I spent most of the time glancing over where she sat, rehearsing in my head of what would be a nice way to approach her. After the service, I mustered up courage and went over to her.
“Hi.”
“Hello.” She replied dryly and continued walking.
“Remember me?” I asked with a forced smile. She wasn’t making things easy.
“No.”
“Okay. sorry. I saw you in the market the other day.” I tried to explain myself seething with embarrassment, hoping she would be gentle in kicking me off.
Her face showed no recognition.
“Iam Nnamdi.” I introduced.
She looked me over for some seconds and I got myself prepared for the insult.
“Ifeanyi.” she finally replied.
“Ifeanyi?”
She smiled. “You can call me Ify.”
I met her again the next sunday. The Sunday after that. And so on.
We became very good friends. Ify had just completed her secondary education too, and was helping her mother out that day at the market. She said her mother was down with malaria and couldn’t make it to the market that Wednesday we met. I added her on Facebook, and started spending my free time chatting with her.
Ify started visiting me everyday after I mentioned my boredom to her during one of our facebook chats. One day, during one of such visits, something led to another and Ify kissed me: It was my first time of ever kissing a girl. Whenever she came over, we would gist for some minutes, and then kiss the rest of the time away. On one of such days, Ify held my hands while we kissed and moved it to her breasts. I hesitantly felt them as we kissed on; I enjoyed touching her there; I had heard my roommates back in school discuss their sex-escapades, I now understood what they were talking about. She then moved her hands towards my trouser zipper, and I jumped up. Even though I was curious about sex, I couldn’t bring myself to go further.
“What’s wrong?”She asked readjusting her blouse.
“Uhmmm…Nothing.”
“You are a virgin?”
She asked the question like I had a problem.
I looked away…
We met again and I got bolder and matched her pace, thanks to sexual tips I got from the Internet -it was not pornographic in nature; just some write-ups on sex and pleasing your partner. pornography is a very serious sin. She wanted us to take it the next level, but I couldn’t bring myself to commit such sin under my father’s roof. I had this uneasy feeling he would find out if I tried such a thing at home. We settled to meet at a certain uncompleted building later in the evening to continue where we stopped…
“Daddy, I need to go over to Brother Philip’s house to get some materials.”
Brother Philip is the prayer secretary of our Youth fellowship. I decided to use his name because my dad would not have a problem with my visiting someone of his kind.
My dad glanced at the clock. It was 6:30pm
“This night?”
“Yes Sir.” I swallowed.
“This night?” He asked again.
I nodded.
“And tomorrow?” he asked.
“It’s for an online scholarship application, today is the deadline.”
“What were you doing during the day? You were home all day.”
“I forgot.” My palms were beginning to get sweaty.
“You forgot? Foolish boy.”
“Thank you Sir.”
My practice paid off; I succeeded. I lied and left the house that evening for a sexual adventure.
I got to the uncompleted building and sat waiting for Ify. I could hear my heart beat; I was not so sure I wanted this.
My conscience was seriously pricking me – I think it was the way the chemist judged me with his eyes when I bought the condom. I couldn’t come to terms on why Ify was pressuring me to have sex with her. I didn’t want her to think I’m a Jew guy; that is the only reason I agreed to this. I have heard of girls who initiated young men into occult societies through sex; girls who slept with men to transmit sexual diseases; girls who slept with men to pin them down with pregnancy; girls who -
“Nnamdi?”
I turned to the direction of the whisper and saw a figure coming towards using a phone as flashlight.
“Ify?”
“Shhhh…”
She came up to where I stood and pulled me towards one of the rooms of the uncompleted building. She moved like someone who knew her way around there very well; the darkness of the night was not a barrier to her movements.
She pushed me to the wall and started kissing me in a way I didn’t like at all – I felt she was too willing. She made a space on the floor using her phone as a flashlight to see in the dark; I thought I saw something like a wicked grin flash across her face when the light from the phone caught her face for a moment. She lay on the space she created on the floor, pulled me onto her and continued kissing me. Then I heard footsteps…
“She must have called the rest of her evil cult to witness my initiation” I thought to myself.
Several thoughts flashed through my mind as the footsteps drew closer…
“Chairman.” A voice called out as a beam of light blinded my eyes as I lay on Ify. I was shocked and scared to my bones I couldn’t move.
“Na Philip house be this?”
I now recognized the voice. It was my younger brother. He was laughing at my embarrassment and fear.
He had followed me from home.
The sexcapades of Nnamdi gone awry. Check the tense mix-ups though eg I didn’t want her to think I’m a Jew guy. A few terms seemed to be English made in Naija sha. I hope Nnamdi gives up this matter till it can be done right:with a willing bride on his wedding night! Thanks for sharing .
Thanks.
Haha…even the best laid plans can go awry. You should remember to put spaces after your punctuatuons, though…
Thanks @queenNobo. I’ve taken take note of that.
Jew guy, one of those boarding school slangs. It reminds me of those good old days.
The story is comical in a way. But it still needs some work to make it shine. Keep writing…
Interesting…always listen the voice of your conscience…especially when it says don’t!!!!
Hehehe….Saved by the bell I had say. Girl was way too bold. Her eye don tear reach back but you never comot ur sunshades yet…
Who knows what plans awaited as u crossed d V junction…
Reread and correct em’ mistakes to make this better. Well done…$ß
I was amused by the fact that the mc thought pornography was a serious sin but didn’t feel extra marital sex was that serious a sin. I wonder what makes one sin serious and the other “unserious.”
You can write.
You just need more grasp of punctuations.
Well done
Thanks Man.
Enough has been said said about the punctuations… But the plans were not that we’ll laid… Consult the gurus ofvsexcapades next time… Like me…
Apart from punctuation that need to be rightly put, you do weave a good tale.
The story was realistic…something that everyone can relate to – the truthful telling of the kind of things that adolescent minds spent their time exploring.
Good job.