A Tale of Two Sisters 


Baal-khenaz, I beseech thee

May her happiest day be her saddest 

I pledge my life as surety 

Give her sorrow, shame and stigma… 


This tale of two sisters… Where do I start? 

One was called Goldie. The other Tiwa. They were neighbors. They were family friends. 

They were physically alike. Both beautiful and intelligent. Both were the same age. And as the story goes, they hailed from the same state of origin. 

They were used as reference points by their parents to motivate the other academically, spiritually and morally. 

They attended the same schools. Fiercely competed for first position in class. Both were eloquent speakers. Both were destined,  to all of us that had the pleasure of their friendship, destined for greatness. 

That was where their similarities stopped. 

Goldie was a gifted dancer. Tiwa, a blessed singer. 

Goldie tended towards the sciences, Tiwa preferred arts. 

Goldie was fair-complexioned. Tiwa dark of skin. 

And so they grew. And got older and wiser. In retrospect, their parents meant no harm. The proof lay in the almost unholy alliance Goldie and Tiwa shared. 

Aye, they stuck together throughout college. They went to the same schools. 

They were roommates even in the university. They were disturbingly intertwined in almost every way, a dorm mate stated emphatically that Goldie and Tiwa were lovers at some point. “There was something strange about those two.”  

It is not quite clear how and why they started poaching each others lovers… Which by the way were few. But they seemed to need to prove to each other that one was better, hotter and sexier than the other. Not against Joanne or Catherine or any other female, just betwixt them both. 

As they grew older still, their lovers (though few) thinned and then became specific, special beloved. Love, romance and marriage found anchor and became possibilities. 

Goldie at this point was an architect of great reckoning. She was a public figure and a real estate authority. She had become very wealthy and engaged to a fine young man called Felix. It was common knowledge that she was utterly besotted with the man. 

Tiwa on the other hand fell in love with a man yoked by marriage. When it mattered, his wife cloaked herself in abject humility and submission. And alas, he chose to remain with his wife. Tiwa, a popular talkshow host on television surprisingly took the heartbreak in stride and went on to seduce the entire country via her daily television talkshow hits. She was like Oprah. 

The devil incidentally came by (yes him… Satan, Lucifer, whatever you know him as), consequently Felix, (Goldie’s beloved) had reason to be featured on one of Tiwa’s prime time shows. 

And as only the devil is capable of orchestrating, Tiwa and her best friend’s lover fell in love thereafter and commenced a very public and a very torrid affair. 

To the utter amazement of the country, they elected to get married a few weeks later. And to the utter bewilderment of the country, Goldie elected to utter nothing. 

Understandably the wedding was high society. The wedding colors were gold and white. The upper crust of society were in attendance, duly arraigned in dazzling shades of gold and white apparel and accessories. 

Felix held his own, the vice president of the country was the sponsor of the wedding and presided over the ‘cutting of the cake’ segment of the wedding. 

At his bidding, Felix performed his first official role (of many more) by feeding his wife a piece of cake and then some champagne. It was beautiful. Guests, celebrities and those in attendance cheered and attested to his composure and gentle nature. 

At his bidding, Tiwa performed her first official role (of many more) by feeding her husband a piece of cake and then some champagne. It was beautiful… Until suddenly Felix clutched his throat and staggered backwards a step. His eyes bulged in obvious pain as he sank slowly to his knees. Reaching out to his wife for help it seemed…, a drink perhaps? Tiwa reached out and barely had her fingertips touch her husband’s before he keeled over sideways in a dead faint. 

All these took place within ten seconds. No one had the presence of mind to react. Though she could not confirm Felix’s death at the time, as she looked around in shock and confusion, her arm now pressed to her bosom, she saw Goldie stand up with a grim smile and sashay out of the cathedral.

Goldie was dressed in a black dress. A black veil of see-through chiffon over her head. A black diamond-encrusted  brooch bearing the likeness of a spider was pinned to the dress, on the left side of her bosom. 

The Auditor 

Felix realized too late that he had made a mistake. 

Chibuzor was too much of an ass to be this nice. Plus, the shady character Chibuzor had arrived with did not help curb his feeling of foreboding. 

As they both leaned over his shoulder, their fetid halitoses reeked of cannabis. That fact did little to ease his growing sense of unease. 

They had both failed his subtle tests of focus and concentration, they were clearly too high to vet or verify his accounting. So, they were in his hotel room for something else. 

 “Does the printer have paper at all?” He casually asked glancing toward his right hand side. 

Predictably, Chibuzor went towards the contraption, Felix rose swiftly but the other character was faster. Felix felt the sharp prick in his buttocks through his pajama bottoms. He immediately delivered a mule kick backwards. The grunt and satisfying squelch of the characters’ testicles was all the proof he needed as assurance of success. 

He swung his laptop viciously into the head of Chibuzor in one fluid motion. Chibuzor crumbled noiselessly. 

He felt the debilitating pain seconds later. He collapsed gently. From the floor he groped for his infinix hot note 2 on the table and feverishly punched in his password. He opened the application be was looking for and hit ‘OK’. With rapidly blurring vision he inputed his secret password and pressed ‘OK’ again. 

He managed to lock his screen just as the most intense flash of pain shot from his heart to his brain…and then everything went black… 

Monica sat forward, I had her attention. Her identical twin Monique favored me with intense scrutiny. 

They were usually very attractive sisters. Exaggerated vital statistics on women that were not tall… A very pleasant sight to behold, very easy on the eyes and soul. Please take it from me. 
I have been Felix’s account officer for over a year now. 
He was transferred into town to be with his wife Monica. They had been married for a little under two years. 

Felix came into town with his social guns blazing. He was a HASHER® through and through. A MANTREKKER® also… He was a very active participant in both hiking associations. He naturally (as an accountant and a Certified Financial Analyst) handled the post of treasurer in both groups. All payments for hikes and tours were made to and through his accounts. He was impeccable with money. The HASH® was almost three hundred members strong. MANTREKKERS® about a hundred and fifty members. The sheer volume of bookkeeping he had to handle was bewildering. Yet his finances were always conducted and balanced impeccably. 

I watched as tears coursed down her face as I handed over Felix’s statement of account and the contents of his safety deposit box. 

Ordinarily, your husband owning a home in a decent part of town should be good news. But this was a unique situation. 

Ordinarily, your husband transferring a hundred million in cash to your company account should be good news. But this was a very unique situation. 

Ordinarily, your husband making you his next of kin to his estate which included accounts totaling hundreds of millions should be good news. But this was one hell of a unique situation. 

The commotion outside was becoming calamitous. I rose and held out my hand to her, weeping she took my hand and rose. I led her outside… I made sure I had my arm around Monique’s waist, I had long range plans for her. She hadn’t gotten that memo yet. 

We were greeted by  a cacophony of cheers, screams, catcalls and a rousing ovation. 

“God bless you madam!”

“Oga Felix dey for heaven!”

“We are solidly behind you!”

“Aunty, nothing do you!”

I watched Monica’s face as it froze in a curious mask of sorrow, surprise, shock and happiness. Over three hundred people were gathered within the grounds and outside the gates. Powerbikes could be heard lustily roaring nearby. 

Felix was a ‘biker’ too. 

Monica glanced at me in dire need of some explanation. I drew her voluptuous twin tighter to me as I elucidated. 

To say Felix committed suicide was as ridiculous and as improbable as a child meeting a suicidal tiger for a Chicken Caesar salad in a restaurant in Abu Dhabi. 

To say that Felix embezzled close to a billion naira was as ridiculous and as improbable as a child having sex with an unimpaired giraffe in the middle of Trafalgar square. 

Yet, the official cause of death reported was suicide.

Yet, Felix’s office had attempted to freeze his accounts through various antigraft agencies and via multiple court injunctions, citing fraud. 

He had been in touch with me the entire time he was auditing the company headquarters in Lagos.

Felix was my friend, we go way back. He was a hothead. A speed freak. A gym rat. And a very good and honest Christian. His word was his bond. He had integrity. 

He was the natural choice to head the audit of the curiously defunct head office. Within days he had evidence on the scope and magnitude of a number of large-scale fraud.

And he would not play ‘ball’. 

One of the drawbacks of wire transfers… About a billion Naira was wired into his account overnight and the perpetrators sought to blackmail him. Either way, he was screwed he told me. These people were old aristocracy, had old ties in government and with access to old enchantments. 

One of the drawbacks of Internet money transfers (and an account officer that is your friend and high up the management ladder); at some point before he died, Felix transferred millions of Naira from the cash intended for his blackmail into the accounts of every HASHER®, MANTREKKER®, CHOIR MEMBER, BIKER AND FRIEND. It would seem that every account detail he ever handled, he inexplicably stored. It seemed that Felix transferred at least a million Naira to every account he could remember just before he died. 

The crowd here comprised of gratefully ecstatic Hashers®, Mantrekkers® et al, gathered to offer thanks (and swear allegiance and protection) to his widow, Monica.