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‘Yo Mamma’

Posted by Dan Ochu-Baiye on

Every time I see him, I ‘die’ inside.

On the night we met, everything was perfect.

My cousin had invited me to come hang out with her boyfriend and ‘his friend’.

I know her boyfriend, but I did not like him much. Since birds of a feather flock together, I was certain that I would not like his friend either.

I was a freshman. My last relationship had been about a year ago. That idiot was my first in every way. He obviously was a mistake.

But, my cousin never takes ‘no’ for an answer. And so we presented ourselves at her boyfriend’s place at about six pm.

I was dressed in a peach colored t-shirt. Worn over hot pink bomb shorts. I am well endowed, and I knew the effect I was creating.

Max was typical Max… Ogling me overtly. I do not like him.

He called out for his friend and then my world burst into gold flecks and rainbows…

He is tall, dark and handsome. Well built. Bald. A goatee. And then his eyes!

Jeeeeesusss! (Forgive me Lord)

He had high cheekbones beneath the slits he called his eyes. His eye sockets were sunken. But when (and if) he focused on you, his eyes illuminated your soul. He would be inside your head, your heart… He was too much…

He walked straight to me and introduced himself in the softest and the most cultured voice I had ever heard live – in front of me.

Jeeeeesusss! (Forgive me Lord)

My body betrayed me sorely. I am still ashamed till this day. My orifice moistened of its own accord; all nubs all women possess stiffened and puckered sensually.

I was a quivering mass of desire and lust.

And he is a gentleman!

My sisters, you know that perfect male character in romance novels? That man your mummy warned you about? This man is it.

The evening was a blur. All I remember is how he makes me feel. Yes, he still makes me feel.

He is intelligent and well-read. So when he volunteered his age (33), and then asked me how old I was, I lied. I was eighteen, but I told him that I was twenty one. I had to lie! I could not risk losing this one.

He did not need to invite me back to his place. Max and Myra dropped us off at the Hilton where he was lodged and drove off. Do not forget, I was eighteen. I did not stand a chance.

He made me a complete woman that night.

All night.

Yes.

ALL NIGHT.

I wept, orgasmed countless times, squirted copiously, laughed in pleasure and self pity, and mercifully passed out.

I passed out just when the nearby mosque was calling for the first prayer of the day.

I awakened in his arms, he was kissing my forehead and running his large hand up and down my naked back.

I woke up with tears in my eyes.

I was in love.

He communicated with me.

Really talked to me.

He told me that he was leaving the country for twelve months on a scholarship.

He told me that he liked me and that he would like to date me exclusively.

He told me things that he did not like. They were just a couple. He was big on loyalty, fidelity and Jesus.

Jeeeeesusss! (Forgive me Lord)

I said yes. Yes! Yes!! Yes!!!

Then mandingo ravished me until I was a quivering mess. He barely made his flight back to Abuja.

He left the country a week later.

He called me every day. Every single day!

When I told him a few weeks later that I was pregnant, he did not miss a beat. He had his mum call me and check up on me weekly. He was there every step of the way. In every way that he could.

‘Chairman’ was born nine months later.

When we ‘Skyped’ mandingo jokingly called him ‘Mini – me’. ‘https://danochubaiye.com/2019/02/11/mini-me/

His dad was due back into the country in a couple of months. I combined education, motherhood and gym subscriptions and got excellent results in all three areas.

And why not? I was young and in love. And most importantly, I knew that my beloved loved me back.

He had done right by me. He was blameless in all honesty.

A week before his arrival, my cousin Myra came by my apartment off-campus. She was with Fatima, a mutual acquaintance of ours. Fatima swooned over my love story, we all had tears in our eyes when I was done.

I proudly showed them the e-tickets he had sent. We were going to see him in Abuja. They squealed in joy. They seemed happy for me.

Then Fatima asked me if I had ever heard of ‘Kayan Mata’ (‘Property of Women’ translated directly).

I said ‘no’.

With a twinkle in her eyes, Fatima explained that Kayan Mata was an assortment of incense, Oudh perfumes, sweets and powders. Aphrodisiacs in short. She said that these aids had been used in the north for centuries.

Her voice dropped an octave when she started to tell me about a new addition to the Kayan Mata range. A chicken prepared with natural herbs and spices that I had to eat alone. If I ate it and made love to my man, or any man for that matter they would (and could) never leave me. She said that I would have such a man loyal and committed to me for life!

Instantly I protested. It sounded like voodoo to me. And my mandingo was very clear on his disapproval on all things un-Jesus (except fornicating with me I guess, LOL).

Myra and Fatima cut me off and went on and on. Swore it was not voodoo. And said that they were only advising me as their sister. My man was now exposed to the world, and ‘hot’ as he was, I had to step up my game.

I reluctantly caved in and the Kayan Mata were delivered same week.

**************

Mandingo came back like a messiah!

I swear (down) that he was even more gorgeous.

I was glad that I had my figure back and his generosity over the year had me looking quite chic.

He was still smitten by me (thank God!) and he fell in love with his son instantly.

I have never, till this day seen a child take to his father so quickly and seamlessly.

He introduced me to his family over the next few days. It was a relief how quickly they embraced me.

His dad actually called me ‘his daughter’. The man insisted that we present him with a wedding date within a fortnight… And mandingo contritely answered, ‘yes daddy’.

Jeeeeesusss! (Forgive me Lord)

LOL…

And we were finally alone. Three days later, and we now had time as a family…

I had just exited the nursery when he lifted me up bodily. I was bereft of clothing in seconds. I swear that he ripped off some of my clothes.

I was so turned on that I began lactating, dripping… He was like an animal! The milk did not deter him…

I was flat on my back, moist, wet and ready…

He was ripping off his clothes, his tumescence larger and longer than I remembered…

His turgidity had just grazed my moistness… I was arching my hips in readiness for his initial assault when I felt…

Nothing…

In confusion I opened my eyes and saw him looking down at his flaccidity in even greater confusion…

I sat up bewildered as the problem dawned on me in earnest…

“Baby what is wrong?! You… You are…” I stammered pointing at his limpness.

Then he uttered words that have haunted me to this day…

“What have you done?”

As he looked at me, I saw tears fall down his handsome cheeks. His eyes bore into my soul and they were so intense that I had to look away.

I heard him stumble out of the room and a few minutes later out of the house. I heard his car start and he drove away.

I cried.

I wept for the entire three-odd hours he spent before he returned. He went straight into the bathroom to bathe before he came to bed. He gathered me in his arms and fell asleep.

I could smell the expensive shower gel he had used.

I could also perceive the musky smell of sex.

I wept most of that night.

I wept because I knew what I had done.

I cried because I knew that he had to go see if he was impotent… It is what he would do. That is who he is.

Over the next few months it dawned on us that he was impotent around me.

Just me.

Our son was excellent in his father’s arms. Even more than mine.

Mandingo had, did and has not changed toward me until this day.

It is just that he is impotent around me.

Just me.

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Pax Et Quietam

Posted by Dan Ochu-Baiye on

I am like an assassin

That is reluctant to cause hurt

I am like a dragon

Holding its own jaws shut.

×°×°

I have an inferno within

Raging, crackling tongues of fire

Your love Vesuvius, mine Krakatoa!

×°×

That is why I am silent

My words will break your spirit.

×°

I am trying not to end us.

×

Mini-me

Posted by Dan Ochu-Baiye on

If I get enough requests by way of comments, I will tell the story of his mother…

He is my wee little man.

The boy is a wonder. Not just because he is my son, but because he has the capacity to creep the hell out of me.

Do not get me wrong, I love him. Most people do too. He is only three years old, but he carries on like one much older.

I had been out of the country for a week, and so he had to stay with his mum. It is not as if I have custody or anything, but he prefers to stay with me.

From the moment he was born, he took to me. He loves his mum, but he has decided to terrify me incessantly.

He loves almost every thing I like. The smell of coffee, aftershave and incense.

He loves fast machinery… My Mercedes-Benz AMG® GT, a Harley Davidson I have had for years and watching formula one.

He even likes Spartacus (the series) and boxing highlights that end in knockouts.

Oh, and he also knows how to bypass parental control settings on my decoder.

Did I mention that he is three years old?

I picked him up from his mum’s place and was headed for the Silverbird Galleria when he spoke for the first time that day.

“Dan, we have to be careful today…”

Yes, my three year old son calls me by my first name and is a bit of a psalter.

Creepy-ass kid!

I have an office in the penthouse of Silverbird Galleria. I planned on a brief meeting because with a kid in tow there was little I could achieve.

“Da – an…”

“Yes my Chairman?” (that is his nickname)

“Don’t worry, I will be alright yeah?”

“Oookay… Just hold on to my hand…”

He hates unnecessary physical contact. Predictably, he declined.

Silverbird Galleria is simply a well – maintained shopping mall. It houses a cinema, gymnasium, designer brand outlets, bank branches, lounges, fast food brands amongst other flashy franchises.

Security is strict. Due diligence is consistently observed.

The affluent and wannabe’s alike throng the mall in self – induced self respect. It is a safe place to be.

Chairman and I had just gone through the metal detectors of the VIP entrance. We were then headed towards the private lifts to the west of the mall when a ruckus at the main entrance distracted us.

I remember smiling down at Chairman and telling him that a celebrity was visiting the mall.

Ms. Ini is an amazing actress, recently divorced. Not too tall, and a bombshell. ‘She would be a perfect date for Valentine’s day,’ I told him.

To which Chairman favored me with a sly smile. He is a good looking kid… But creepy as hell! Lol…

I looked across one more time and caught a glimpse of my crush being escorted by her private security up an escalator.

I looked back down and my son was gone.

Poof!

In less than five seconds… My kid was just gone.

I felt my heart constrict painfully.

I started to hyperventilate.

I looked around wildly, nada!

In the center of a sparsely populated mall… Bloody hell!

I shouted for the mall security and they came running.

I am a known patron within the mall. I guaranteed the jobs of at least ten of the malls’ security officers and have another five staff of the mall that owe me favors. They literally shut down the mall for me that day.

A couple of minutes later, his cryptic admonitions started replaying in my head. I felt tears cloud my eyes.

I was hurriedly ushered upstairs towards the security room. All cctv footage were processed there. It was located on the third floor.

Announcements were already being made describing my son over the mall’s public address system.

I was knee – deep in shit!

The heat and malicious rumors his disappearance would generate would ruin my empire! His mum would die of heartbreak. She would sleep tonight and then die in her sleep before morning.

I called the commissioner of police and he benevolently put out a BOL & an ATL. He is a close ally and a great man. The city of Abuja was sealed almost instantly. Check points were activated at strategic locations in concentric circles from around the mall into the city.

“Oga, no be your pikin that woman hold so?” An excited mall official yelped pointing excitedly at the monitor.

“Which floor is that?!” I yelled already dashing out of the door.

“Fourth floor sir, make we follow the stairs. The ‘lift’ fit waste time.”

I was grateful for the dedication of the posse that were panting behind me.

Bless those men… All of you!

I came up out of the spiraling staircase with murderous intent. Whoever she was, I planned on inflicting pain in a few seconds.

I knew that the mall security would hold me back and so I deliberately increased my pace…

And almost ran into Ms. Ini.

The actress / celebrity / crush – thingy I was talking about earlier…

She was even lovelier up close. A lot smaller than the big screen portrayed… But as certain as sunrise tomorrow, she is stacked!

Just the way I like my women.

She and her entourage seemed to be headed towards the stairs I just lunged out of. My mien, speed and bulk had terrified the group into an impasse.

She had my son in her arms.

“Daddy!” He screamed out in glee…

Wait.

A.

Minute…

Why was he calling me ‘daddy’?

Forget that he was in the arms of one of the country’s sexiest filmstars…

And how he got to her at all…

He did not like to be carried…at all!

“Chairman! I was worried! I am so upset with you! I am not happy at all…”

“Dah-ddy… Meet my friend Ms. Ini. She does not have a date for Valentine’s day either.”

She and I burst out laughing nervously at first. and as soon as I took her tiny hand in mine the laughter got quieter. Warmer. Tingly-er…

Everybody loves my Chairman… his cryptic admonitions started replaying (again) in my head. I felt tears cloud my eyes…

“Awww… It’s okay… I found him wandering. He’s such a smart kid. I love him! I would have never allowed him get hurt. We were coming to look for you… He insisted that we take the stairs…come here…”

And she dropped him and gave me one of the best hugs of my life. ‘The first of many’, I mentally promised myself.

Long story short, we exchanged contacts and shared a few cocktails that same night.

Everything ended well. Ms. Ini agreed to dinner come the fourteenth of February by seven pm. She magnanimously agreed to meet up in Abuja.

I planned to call @benmurraybruce, I was going to shut down Silverbird Galleria come February 14 for that night. Just Ms. Ini and I, and maybe some violinists … No matter the cost.

As I sat looking down at my sleeping son at about midnight (that same night), his eyes flew open.

“Dan, she is not your wife. Just have fun.”

He turned away to face the wall, leaving me with my mouth and eyes wide open.

Creepy-ass kid!

If I get enough requests by way of comments, I will tell the story of his mother…

The Day She Died…

Posted by Dan Ochu-Baiye on

We had been quarreling for a while now.

Every little thing seemed to set us off. We were fighting ninety percent of the time these days.

Deola was starting to look like a good replacement..

Deola… Ah… ‘Dee’ as I loved to call her. Buxom. Nubian beauty. Bold and forthright. She had been hitting on me with a vengeance for months. She was promising me ‘heaven on earth’. She told me that she was game ‘whatever, wherever, whenever’, that all I had to do was ask.

Chaaaiiii!

Chika was nagging again. Her gratey voice snapped me out of my reverie.

Chikadibia… Sigh… So beautiful that it was not fair. As smart as starched military khakis too. Her mind is astronomical! It also helped that she was the only woman I knew via recent experiences that could handle me sexually.

That day we were arguing about a wedding she wanted to attend. I had told her that she could not go. She was livid. She was trying to make my life a living hell.

Throughout her tirade I was ‘sexting’ with Deola. Mild stuff.

But,

Deola was starting to look like a good replacement.

Long story short, Chika defied my instructions and went for the wedding. (I am that sort of boyfriend, get over yourself. Thankfully, I am not dating you).

I was seated in my opulent den when she returned. She sashayed toward me, smiling like nothing was wrong. She bent over and leaned in and kissed my cheek and then sat down beside me.

Something inside my head snapped. Audibly I am sure.

I let loose a vile litany of invectives. I was well into giving her a piece of my mind when the corner of her mouth started twitching.

Little tics at first. Then sight tremors and finally that side of her mouth began to twitch.

But I was on a roll.

I had just begun cursing her out, (yes it is that sort of relationship, get over yourself. Thankfully, I am not dating you) when I perceived that all was not well.

My sick, twisted, wicked and premeditated words dried up instantly.

The second I saw the corner of her mouth droop just a fraction of an inch. I bolted out of the room.

By the time I returned with my car keys, she was slumped on the floor face down.

I had her in the hospital about thirteen minutes later. The nurses had her on oxygen and hooked up to a few machines. They were starting to check her blood pressure. They were also trying to get blood from her arm to run some tests.

Chika suddenly stiffened, and then started to stretch unnaturally. Then she seemed to crumple… Then stiffen… Then crumple. It was clearly a bizarre death dance.

Pandemonium broke out. It was grotesque sight. Her previously beautiful face was scrunched up in a series of revolting rictuses.

I was standing by the door. I am a big and tall man, the nurses needed all the space they could get. I had just closed my eyes to pray for her when I heard her start to convulse.

The seizures were so violent that the hospital bed was bouncing off the white tiles of the floor.

I forced the deepest calm I could muster and from within began to pray for her. Inaudibly I think. I did not want her to die. Not because I would have to explain what happened, but because I loved Chika.

I am not sure how long I prayed, but it can’t have been for more than a few seconds… When someone, something prompted me to open my eyes.

I saw a vertical plume of light slowly rise from Chika and slowly start to ascend. I darted forward and held the light.

Yes, you read that right. Until I did it I did not know it to be possible. But it felt like the only move I had. And it worked because I was now somehow holding Chika by the wrist.

On the bed, she had flatlined and the nurses were still struggling to resuscitate her.

Here, about a meter away I was holding on to her spirit.

“Baby-m… (term of endearment, ‘my baby’) please don’t go… Please baby don’t leave me” I begged her celestial version.

“It is time Igwe. My time has come.” She objectively reported.

“Chika, I am sorry!” I remember crying out audibly.

The nurses were practicing CPR on her earth suit at this point. One of the nurses had her hands on her head and was weeping quite loudly.

“Igwe I forgive you… Don’t worry… I am tired… Bye – bye…” She told me in a sad voice. Her guileless eyes held proof of forgiveness. Her entire visage was devoid of malice or ill will.

Chaaaiiii!

Never! Not on my watch!! So I employed the only strategy that I could. I uttered words that I knew would touch Chika’s spirit. A suggestion that was sincere. It would be tendered from my spirit to hers.

“Chikadibia, I want you to be my wife. I want you to give birth to children for us… I will go and see your parents tomorrow.”

Time froze for an instant.

She looked into my eyes for a while. Then she turned around and returned into her earth suit.

Then all of her as I knew it slowly sat up on the bed.

The nurses fled in terror when she sat up slowly. Hospital sheet sliding off to reveal her impossibly beautiful face. They ran because she had just been pronounced, ‘dead’.

We have been married for thirteen years now.

We have three children.

Two girls and a boy.