MURDER ON VALENTINE (Tales from 9ja)

It was 6pm, Monday, February 14th. It was valentines day. A young man, hands covered with blood, walks around in a room. Meet Jude.

Jude looked at his blood smeared hands dazed beyond words. As though he were in a trance, he paced the room, seeing nothing and hearing nothing except the blood on his hands and the groans which echoed and re-echoed in his skull.

“Today is supposed to be valentine”, he wondered aloud. He paced a little bit more and stopped at the crumpled figure before him. Then he looked down unseeing. A little storm began to build up in his head.

Suddenly, his phone rang and that brought him back to consciousness. He picked up the phone and switched it off. It was no time to pick calls. The devil has really gotten him in a tight corner.

He peeked at the figure again and caught a glint in the twin iris, they were gazing at him. His heart skipped two beats. “Could she be alive”, he wondered.

Sobered, Jude knelt beside the corpse of his girlfriend, his valentine until some moments ago. She was still very dead. Blood had congealed around her temple. The cut was deep. Two hours ago, he wouldn’t have believed that Temi would ever lie immobile for more than a minute. Even in her sleep, she was always a restless one, her tantrums were unequaled.

It’s been over an hour now and Temi was still, dead as a piece of beef. Jude picked her hand. It was cold and his hands grew misty as big drops of tears dropped on her face, on her sightless eyes. Temi, the same Temi with whom he had planned the most memorable valentine ever.

Something liquid seeped through his trousers. It was the wine from the broken Champagne bottle, they were supposed to be toasting with it. He glanced ever so casually at the upturned table. Beside it was a squashed valentine cake and beside the cake was the ring. Yes, the engagement ring he had planned to give her and now she was dead. Reflexively, he looked at her middle finger and wondered how the ring would have looked on it.

He shook his head as if to clear the clouds in his skies and tried to make meaning out of the events. Temi had come in looking as gorgeous as ever that afternoon but she was moody and he had asked her what the problem. She had declined offering any response. He had gotten pissed off and as they argued she spoke the words that sent his world crashing: a three months old fetus was breathing inside her.

Pregnant? Three months!  He had slapped her thrice in the space of a second. How could she be pregnant? He had never touched her; she was the ‘special one’, she bore the forbidden fruits that would be untouched until she became his wife. That was their agreement. Now she was pregnant.

Temi was the first girl he had really loved, before  then, all he was after was sex and more sex. but with Temi, he found the consuming spark and fell in love. Temi, vivacious, likable and beautiful, she had taken him away from alcohol, women and hemp. She had cleaned him up, literally. She was his idea of a woman, a saint in the making. How could she then be pregnant?

It wasn’t until she had revealed who was responsible that he got really mad. It was Mike, his bosom friend and it had been too much to take. He forgot the bottle of wine on the table, he forgot the cake yet unwrapped and forgot the diamond ring he had bought for her. The dream had been too blinding to wake from and in his blindness, he had struck her and pushed her away violently.

Her head had struck the pavement with a resounding, sickening crack as she fell and she had died quickly without a sound. As blood flowed from her head, she twitched like someone being electrocuted.  He had rushed to her side alarmed but nothing could have been done for her. She died. It was murder, murder of mother and unborn child, unborn bastard.

His other phone rang jolting him back from the subconscious.  He picked it and terminated the call; this was no time for calls. Not when there was a murder, a murder on valentine.

Mind made up, Jude dialed 911. It was best that way he thought. A voice came over the line.

“Hello, you have reached the police emergency number, how may we help you”.

Without responding, Jude terminated the call. He had a better thought of how to handle the situation. If the police got him now he would surely rot in jail. There was no point, he had to escape the murder. He remembered the bottle of local rat poison in the cupboard. He went there and emptied the bottle down his throat without batting an eyelid.

He had no time for a suicide note. Let the world wonder. He walked back to the corpse and kissed the stiff lips for the last time. As he sat down beside her, he began to feel the first pangs. Death was calling.

There was no better way to get away with a valentine murder than with a valentine suicide. CHECK_OUT

24 thoughts on “MURDER ON VALENTINE (Tales from 9ja)” by Kukogho Iruesiri Samson (@xikay)

  1. xikay, way to go man. nice. they say anger rests in the bossom of the fool. tho dat kind thing dey pain but…3 slaps?man, i don’t know what i would v done sha.

  2. Captivating stuff…

  3. @neo-lite is 3slaps not even small? you realise that the girl you have been cooking for marriage, abstaining from sex, is pregnant and you learn that on vals day?…
    @annabella, thanks…

  4. Now, this is a bomb… What-a-nice-craft..! Mehn, the beauty of your work here is like a romantic painting… Lol.

  5. @idoko, we’re just trying,…hoping to satisfy the honorable NS masters. THANKS sire

  6. Well written. I wonder though why you put certain parts of the flashback in quotes? And then you also said that her head hit the pavement? I thought they were inside a room? Does 911 work in Nigeria?

    I like the idea of an anti-valentine story, well crafted.

  7. @Myne, as a newspaper journalist, my work bore on this story…the highlighted portions are to bring the reader to the IMPORTANT/ HIGH POINT…dont mind me
    on the issue of 911, you’ll see more in my next story on Tales from 9ja…
    as for the PAVEMENT, i must confess, its a blunder should’ve been HARD FLOOR or something…good point you noted here….

  8. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Naija Stories, Naija Stories. Naija Stories said: Well written. I wonder though why you put certain parts of the flashback… #amreading #writing […]

  9. Myne has already pointed out the issues I had with a few details here and there. The delivery was good too, I enjoyed reading it. Well done xikay.

  10. Good story. You’d have dropped a tiny hint on why she ‘valentined’ with the bosom friend though. But still a very good story. You rock man.

  11. yeah…I ditto scopes again word for word. Let me steal a line from someone up there…
    “captivating stuff”.

  12. Good pace, brilliant ending and a smooth delivery. This is very good. yea, concrete floor? in a room? work on that, pls. you are good man…

  13. @jaywriter, thanks bro…i’m feeling you
    @seun-odukoya, i’m pleased you like it
    @engineer, thanks sire…noted….was rushing to meet up with the val…funny i still missed it.

  14. Xikay, dem don talk am finish. Next time, make whatever she strikes her head on to have an edge; say, the edge of a table or something.
    Still, great stuff.

  15. @yep i agreed with them but it must not have an edge…a hard floor can do the trick..abi?

  16. @wealth, what are gwan that you are ‘awwwing’?

  17. Not particularly memorable – it’s a story I’ve heard many times before – but simple and straightforward. I agree with Jaywriter – it would have been good to hear why she slept with his friend.

    What’s with the multiple links to the same site?

  18. its just a craze, the links…dont mind me….

  19. its just a craze, the links…dont mind me….twas a rushed piece

  20. God you write so well! your work is beautifully crafted, it’s almost kind off fool proof.

  21. dont make me blush now…u can see that i do also make blunders just like we all…learning never ends

  22. This is a nice story. I had some problems with the flow of the narrative at some points though. There were a number of comma splices and improperly constructed sentences.

    Well done. Keep improving your art.

  23. Yeah, this was very ‘on the spur of the moment’… lotta errors cos I was rushing to meet teh Feb 14 deadline. thanks anyways

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