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TOASTING HER

TOASTING HER

By Itzprince in 26 Oct 2018 | 04:26
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Itzprince Itzprince

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MEET DAVID NJOKU


Mama Ruka’s canteen was packed as
usual that Thursday
morning. It was a well-known fact that
if a person made the mistake of coming
after 10:30 am to buy food at her stall,
he or she would have to wait for close to
an hour to even get inside. An incredibly
long queue would have formed outside
her stall, and this was the lunch crowd.
The dinner queue was far longer, more
boisterous.
Funny enough, Mama Ruka did not serve
breakfast.
On a regular day, the queue would start
piling up before 10:00 am, and one
wondered if the people on the queue
had jobs, seeing as they were trying to
buy lunch so early in the day. No one
asked the other, so they just speculated.
The long wait time notwithstanding,
people came from as far away as Ajah to
buy food from Mama Ruka’s canteen in
Akoka. The student body as well as
faculty members of the University of
Lagos formed the core of her clientele,
which was expected: her canteen was
located on their campus
David Njoku, a 200 level Mathematics
student at UNILAG was familiar with the
peculiarities of Mama Ruka’s canteen. He
was what one would describe as a
frequenter as opposed to a regular. As a
frequenter, he visited the canteen 3 – 4
times a week, usually for lunch. The
regulars came in more than 10 times a
week, excluding weekends.
Being the savvy businesswoman she
was, Mama Ruka, a jovial, well-
proportioned woman in her early 40s,
made sure she was familiar with her
customers’ tastes, whether they were
regulars or frequenters or first-timers.
In the midst of the chaos that raged
within the stall, she still found time to
greet each customer warmly, inquire
about their day, their families, and
launch into animated and exciting
discussions on topics selected from an
assorted list: the hot weather, neighbors’
pussy cats, the price of petrol, Boko
Haram, inflation and occasionally,
adultery. In short, they talked about
everything under the sun. Or at least,
under the Nigerian sun.
Adultery was not on David’s mind that
morning. Having just returned from a
painfully boring lecture, his mind was
blank. But by the time he joined the
queue around 10:48am, he got an earful
of gist that should have been labelled
“for mature audiences only.” As could
be expected, the queue had formed in
front of Mama Ruka’s stall and it was
growing longer every minute.
There were at least twenty people ahead
of David on the queue. Of that number,
two men who were directly in front of
him provided a little entertainment while
he waited in line. From their shabby
appearance, he surmised that they were
non-teaching staff members or more
specifically, “errand boys” attached to a
particular department or faculty on
campus.
They were engrossed in an intense
conversation that was so loud that David
was sure the next 10 people in line
would have no trouble following their
gist. The decidedly savory parts of the
conversation were prefaced and
punctuated by wild gesticulations that
were just as interesting to watch as it
was to listen to the content of their
discussion.
“The lecturer don off im cloth o. As im
wan knack de girl, na so those cult boys
break the door–” said the man in the
blue shirt and brown trousers.
“Ewooooo! Why dem no lock de door
now? Which kain rubbish be dat?
Person wey go dey do dat kain tin
suppose get key to lock door,” his friend
in the green and yellow ankara shirt and
trousers observed, as if there was a
training manual for committing adultery,
which the lecturer had failed to read. His
friend hissed and continued.
“Siddon dere, dey yarn say im no lock
door. Na responsible man be dis? If to
say he dey consider wetin he dey do well
well, he suppose do am for im office?”
“Wait o. Na wetin you come dey talk? Say
e for better make dem go hotel?”
At this point, the man in the blue shirt
who was telling the story to his friend
got slightly annoyed with his friend’s
hotel suggestion. But, he quickly forgave
him and completed his story.
From what this man heard, the night
before, a lecturer had been caught
literally with his pants down in his office
with a female student. After weeks of
threatening to give her a failing grade
for his class if she did not give in to his
lustful advances, she finally gave in. The
class was one she needed to pass to
graduate, and the lecherous lecturer was
the only one who taught it.
Unknown to him, her cousin was a
member of one of the deadliest secret
cults on campus. Up to that time, she
had kept this man’s threats away from
her cousin’s ears. But seeing herself in a
tight fix, and after hearing rumors that
another female student had given this
same lecturer Herpes, she decided it was
time to bring her cousin into the picture.
Knowing the reputation of that
particular cult, she made it clear that she
did not want the lecturer killed. She just
wanted him to learn a painful lesson. Her
cousin had told her that he could not
make any promises, but he was certain
the lecturer would change his ways after
they had finished with him.
On the night the lecturer had picked, the
girl’s cousin and his friends – five men
altogether – waited for the lecturer to go
to his office in the company of his
supposed victim. Then, they waited
outside his door waiting for the girl’s
signal. It was the word “oya.”
As soon as she gave the signal, they
burst into his office, cameras and
camcorders recording his irreversible
moment of shame. Of course, the
lecturer knew it was all over at that
point, and began to plead for his life. But
the cultists ignored his last-minute
repentance and beat him within an inch
of his life. According to the man
recounting the story, the cultists actually
thought they had killed him.
But the man miraculously survived.
“E no go try dat kain tin again, lai lai!”
the storyteller exclaimed.
His friend was not so optimistic.
“Some people no dey learn their lesson
quick quick like dat. He fit try am again,”
the other man observed.
David hissed inwardly. He wished his
lecture had ended earlier. That way, he
would have arrived here before the
dreaded queue formed and would not
have to listen to this silly story.
Lecturers and students .
Was there anything new under the sun?
His stomach growled in response. The
answer was a plain “No.”
Inasmuch as he would much rather have
listened to someone recount the details
of the Manchester versus Chelsea match
he had missed the week before, there
was something in their conversation
that had piqued his attention: the name
of the girl at the center of the whole
drama. Her name was Sade.
***TO BE CONTINUED***
26 Oct 2018 | 04:26
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REGISTER @freshgirl @qeenvick @denciebabe @victoriouschild @jummybabe @frankkay @pearl @fridex @jerrie @john451 @pappyjay @c-roderick @cookey @isabella1 @sanctus4real @ryder @temmyluv @jacopet @wizy308 @coolval222-2 @itzprince @sabinto @bestabbey @pearlily @delexzy01 @luvlydamsel @hormortiyor @fb-mhizlilygold @elisco1453 @anachrist @fridex @royalgoldAnd others come o
26 Oct 2018 | 04:42
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Present, is it truly possible for people to queue that long for food?
26 Oct 2018 | 05:45
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Na pant the woman dey cook 4 dem
26 Oct 2018 | 06:11
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Wetin con happen after?
26 Oct 2018 | 15:30
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Nice start
26 Oct 2018 | 15:45
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next pls
26 Oct 2018 | 18:22
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Waooh nice one
27 Oct 2018 | 04:18
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@itzprince tnx for IV.. sorry i havent b replying ur Calls... kinda busy i hardly read stories... but will follow dis particular one ok... nyc start...
27 Oct 2018 | 04:56
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While they did not mention the girl’s last name, David was still worried. He knew a certain Sade, and would have given anything in the world to make sure she was not the same person embroiled in this dirty lecturer scandal. Sade was a very common name, especially on campus, and it was possible that this Sade was not the person he knew. But, David had tasted enough surprises in his 20-year lifetime to put him well above the ignoramus level. He knew that a university campus was itself a community, and a very small one at that. There was always a chance that public gist of this nature involved someone you knew or the friend of a friend of someone you knew. It was just a matter of degrees of relatedness. The brain cells in David’s erstwhile empty head began to quibble with the details of the story, and a mental compare-and-contrast was initiated. The full name of the Sade he knew was Folasade Onakoya. She was a 200-level Economics student. The men had talked about a girl in the Faculty of Social Sciences. “Hmmmm … The Department of Economics is in the Faculty of Social Sciences,” David observed. “But, I don’t know if she is related to a cultist. Oh no! What if she is? That changes everything. I mean … if I mess up–” he thought to himself. David’s reference to “messing up” was a classic case of putting the cart before the horse. You see, he had never even spoken to Sade, yet here he was thinking of dating her and maybe breaking her heart. The latter part is what he referred to as “messing up.” But, he had not worked up the nerve to approach her and have a normal conversation with her. In David’s world, there were many guys who would have chased after Sade many times and inundated her with “I want you to be my girlfriend” requests. Bold, brave guys. But David was not like them. He was painfully shy and introverted. To make matters worse, he was an incurable romantic. The common joke among the few friends he had was that he was already married. To his books. They said that any woman he married would only be a second wife. While David did not find the recurring joke funny, he understood where they were coming from. As far as they could see, he was too serious with his academics, spending long hours in the library every single day. When he was not reading school books, which in some circles is called ‘studying,’ his eyes were glued to the pages of one of those paperback romances, which are ever-present all over Lagos. David nursed his shyness by reading about the lives of people who were doing the opposite of what he was doing. The men he read about were bold, handsome and desired by beautiful women. In short, all the things he wanted to be. He imagined that reading about these men whom he envied would somehow inject him with the courage he needed to approach women. At the moment, only one woman would be worth all the trouble. Her name was Sade. He had taken a class with her in his first year at UNILAG. Being a 100 level student, he took general courses outside his area of study. One of those classes was English 102. As part of the requirements for this class, they had to read and analyze The Marriage of Anansewa, written by Ghanaian author, Efua T. Sutherland. During one class, the lecturer called on students to provide their opinions on the theme of the book. That was the first time he heard her speak. Sade in a few, eloquent words, dissected the book in such a remarkable way that it drew even the admiration of the lecturer. From that moment, David was in love with Sade. To him, there was something incredibly sexy about a woman who could express her genuine opinion in everyday language in front of other people. She sounded so sure of herself, so confident. David wished he was that confident. In fact, he remembered wishing the ground would open up and swallow him when he saw the lecturer come close to where he sat in the front row, looking like he was about to tell David to answer the question. But Sade, who sat just a few seats to his left, saved the day when she spoke up and answered. Since that day, he constantly plotted and planned on how to get close to her. But, it seemed that David was cursed with ill luck. Every time he saw an opportunity to approach Sade and talk to her, some other guy would come along and whisk her away. To make matters worse, she did not live on campus, so there was no cooking up an excuse to visit her and pour out his heart. David carried this burden till he was in his 2nd year. And now that there was some gist flying around campus about a certain Sade and a lecturer, he hoped and prayed that his Sade was not the one. David’s stomach growled again. The line had moved considerably, but David was still outside Mama Ruka’s stall. The men in front of him had shifted their discussion to politics, which was of very little interest to David. Craning his neck forward to see how far the line was before it was his turn, he noticed inadvertently that most of the people on the line had all sorts of food containers with them. Some had regular plastic bowls with lids, but most people had insulated food flasks of varying sizes. They did not plan to sit and eat there. “I should have brought my own flask too,” David said in a low voice to himself. “Abi o. Me too.” The voice of the person who had spoken belonged to a woman. David turned around in surprise and came face to face with an older woman. She looked to be in her 30s and wore a wedding band on her finger. She wore a fitted floral print dress on a body that betrayed the signs of recent childbirth. The sun had melted some of the pomade she rubbed into her hair, making her forehead shiny. She smiled at him. “Honestly, I should have brought a flask with me o. This line is too long,” she complained. “Sorry. It will soon be our turn,” David said, trying to comfort her. Then, a thought occurred to him. “You can take my spot o. You look very tired,” he said, pointing to the spot in front of him. “Ah, no. That’s very kind of you, but no. I’m waiting for my friend. It won’t be fair if both of us cut in front of you like that,” she insisted. “Are you sure because I don’t mind at all–” “Okay. Since you don’t mind,” the woman finally said, accepting his offer and walking to the spot in front of David on the line. She thanked him again and then introduced herself. Her name was Joy. She did not give a last name, but told him she was also in the Faculty of Social Sciences, studying Sociology. At the mention of “social sciences,” David remembered the lecturer gist he had overheard some minutes before, and wondered if this woman could give him more details. By now, his typical shyness had left and even though the woman was doing most of the talking, he was having a conversation with her. Somehow, he worked his question into their conversation. Joy, the woman he was talking to, said that she had heard of the incident and actually knew the Sade in question. That Sade was a student in the Department of Sociology, not Economics, and her name was Sade Ilegbusi. David could almost have danced for joy. Joy did not know the great service she had just rendered, but she did not miss the look of relief that came over his face when she confirmed the identity of the other Sade. “But you know, it was not her fault. Sade, I mean. Nobody asks for these things to happen … for a lecturer to pick on you and ask for sex before you can pass his course. But for as long as she is a student here, everybody will know her as the girl that exposed that lecturer–” Joy remarked. “–And as the girl whose cousin is a cultist,” David thought to himself. He nodded in response. “I mean, if it was me that a lecturer was harassing and putting pressure on like that, and my husband even heard about it, he would kill the man o–” Joy said laughing. “You mean a lecturer would go after a married woman?” David asked incredulously. Joy clapped her hands together dramatically. “Of course! When has marriage ever stopped any man from chasing women?” Joy asked. David did not have to answer. Someone else did. “It’s true, my sister. Nothing can stop such a man. But hands down, they prefer to prey on single women.” The person who said these words had been standing behind Joy before she switched places with David. After the switch, this person was now standing directly behind David. The whole time he had been talking with Joy, and possibly even before that, she had a large textbook spread out in front of her blocking her face from view. As soon as she joined the conversation, she put her book away and for the first time David saw her face. He almost screamed in shock. It was Sade Onakoya, the girl he had wanted to toast for the longest time. – to be continued –
27 Oct 2018 | 11:05
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REGISTER @freshgirl @qeenvick @denciebabe @victoriouschild @jummybabe @frankkay @pearl @fridex @jerrie @john451 @pappyjay @c-roderick @cookey @isabella1 @sanctus4real @ryder @temmyluv @jacopet @wizy308 @coolval222-2 @itzprince @sabinto @bestabbey @pearlily @delexzy01 @luvlydamsel @hormortiyor @fb-mhizlilygold @elisco1453 @anachrist @fridex @royalgold and others come o
27 Oct 2018 | 11:11
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Nice start
27 Oct 2018 | 12:31
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Thanks for the call @itzprince Ride on.
27 Oct 2018 | 15:30
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hey @itzprince over here ooo show ur face
28 Oct 2018 | 05:06
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Sade was one of those women who believed in simplicity. It was her philosophy and it reflected in everything she did, and most noticeably, in her appearance. She had a small, narrow face with eyes that sparkled when she spoke. Her hair was straight and pulled back away from her face and secured with a rubber band. She had a boyish figure and was almost as tall as David. That day, she wore a t-shirt with blue jeans and suede shoes. It was a very simple outfit, but in David’s eyes, she looked like a queen. As he looked at her, he felt all the boldness he had been cruising on, leaving him and in his nervousness, he worried about what to say to her. For months, he had plotted and planned what he would say to her – a bunch of ill-conceived pick-up lines, really – the posture he would assume, and even the details of her reaction, which included kissing him, jumping on an imaginary white horse, or unicorn, and riding with him into the sunset. Or at least into Jaja hall where he lived. Were horses or unicorns allowed in Jaja Hall? David had not worked out the details in his daydream, and he certainly had not prepared himself to meet Sade that morning. He forgot that Sade had already joined the conversation and that they had moved past the awkward “pick-up line” stage. “So what do you think, David?” said Joy, turning to him. This was his moment, his chance to impress Sade with — with what? His intellect? In front of Mama Ruka’s canteen? What would he say? Never mind that the topic was whether dirty male lecturers preyed on married women versus single women. He knew he could somehow work in the Laws of Aerodynamics into the conversation and that it would make sense. But just as he opened his mouth to say something, it happened: a hiccup. Then, another one. And then another one followed in quick succession. Without waiting for the fourth one to strike, David’s reflexes kicked in and he did the number one thing he always did whenever he was having hiccups: he licked the back of his right hand. It was one of those superstitious beliefs that had been ingrained in him as a child and had followed him into early adulthood. The problem was that he was licking the back of his hand in front of the most important woman in the world. Crap! What a loser! Did she see him? A peal of laughter escaping from Sade’s mouth was the answer to his last question. Yes, she had seen him. Joy looked amused. “Oh my goodness! I can’t believe it. You mean, you do that too? Me too! Thank God, I am not weird!” said Sade, still laughing. David could not believe his ears. Was Sade really admitting to him that she also did the same thing? “For real?” was all he managed to say. In his heart, he wanted to leap for joy. He was just glad he had not sent her scuttling away in the opposite direction. At that point, his boldness returned and stretching out his right hand to Sade, he said: “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name. My name is David, and you are?” “Sade. Sade Onakoya. Nice to meet you,” she responded with a firm handshake. And that was how David finally met Sade. They continued chatting like they were old friends, finding out in front of Mama Ruka’s canteen that they had similar interests: books, chess and jazz music. By the time it was finally David’s turn to order his food, he had forgotten about the hunger in belly. A strange, thrilling kind of excitement filled his heart. But he got his food anyway, paid for himself, Sade and Joy, thanking God that Joy’s friend never showed up, as he would have felt obliged to pay for her too. They all sat down to eat, and after they cleared their plates, he got Sade’s number and had to leave for another lecture. As he walked to the lecture theatre, there was an unmistakable spring in his steps that was absent hours before. Patting the pocket which held her treasured phone number, he declared aloud: “This has been the best day of my life.” And indeed, it was. – THE END –
28 Oct 2018 | 14:55
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He didn't make her his girlfriend
31 Oct 2018 | 04:05
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wonderfully written :yes:
31 Oct 2018 | 06:13
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nice one wat u have been running after since two yrs is now urs
31 Oct 2018 | 08:02
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Where is my cushin chair. waiting for the next episodes. pls i need some to keep me updated.
31 Oct 2018 | 09:53
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He has not Toasted her yet now.
31 Oct 2018 | 13:40
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Funny
31 Oct 2018 | 18:00
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hmmmmmm,,,,t
31 Oct 2018 | 19:03
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Hmmm U could have made it a little longer and add more details to it, I mean the wooing part
1 Nov 2018 | 15:49
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What happened to the lecturer is a huge punishment...David and sade can start something more than what they have started
1 Nov 2018 | 18:06
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THE END
1 Nov 2018 | 18:08
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he didn't ask her out?
2 Nov 2018 | 15:41
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Sweet
16 Dec 2018 | 16:00
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