When iyanga dey sleep, trouble come wake am, wetin you expect? The end result of such action would be katakata. Such was the case of Ifunanya, a close friend of mine. I silently prayed that she would not find out I wrote and published her heart-breaking story inside EE.
It was slated that on May 26, 2012, Ify (as I fondly called her) and her heartthrob, Uche would walk down the aisle. Want to know why I used ‘was’? Yeah, because right now, lots of water had passed under the bridge in their once-upon-a-time sparkling relationship. And now, the marriage plans have been suspended indefinitely.
If Ify had known that her one-last fling with the latest ‘catch’ would land her much-talked about wedding plans into troubled waters, she would have killed her insatiable lust for money and addiction for the joystick in a man’s trousers.
Ifunaya is a ‘runs’ babe and girl ‘about town’. She’s well endowed in the right places with fantastic curves. She’s also pretty and got swag, making her the centre of attraction at every occasion.
She doesn’t hang out with guys that have nothing to offer. She prefers those with class; state of the art cars, designers wears; men that would be ready to cheerfully sweep her off her feet with exotic and expensive gifts.
As time went by, her biological clock was no longer ticking but racing. Ify’s parents were so worried about her waywardness and her inability to tie down any responsible man for marriage. After all, her two younger sisters had long been married and had even stopped bearing children.
I can vividly remember that Ify went home two years ago during the Yuletide to answer the summons of the concerned members of her family, especially her aging mother.
In a bid to find remedy to her long and overdue spinsterhood, they suggested that she should be taken to their village goddess to have her head washed in the river. You know all those abracadabra village people do believing that it would solve all their problems; even the self-inflicted ones.
Frustrated and embattled Ify, obeyed the last order. She performed some cleansing rituals and had her head washed in the river to cleanse off every enemy spell holding her back from getting married and opening her centre for just one man.
After the rituals, she came back to Lagos to continue her carefree and rugged life. As fate would have it, mother luck beamed a smile on her and she caught one cool-headed money-miss-road international business guy.
Uche was attracted by Ifunanya’s astonishing beauty and charisma; he never knew the kind of life she was living.
Shortly after they met, Uche proposed to her and she joyfully accepted. She went home to formerly inform her people. Six months down the line, Uche decided to have the traditional marriage, with the wedding proper fixed for May 26, 2012, so he would move his new family to his home abroad as soon as possible.
Few weeks after the traditional wedding, Uche travelled out of the country, Ifunanya confided in me that she had an emergency call in Abuja, so she would be taking the next available flight to the Federal Capital Territory to sort it out.
Prior to her emergency trip to Abuja, she tried to resist the temptations of spreading her legs wide for all calibre of wealthy randy men to ‘browse’ through her honey pot. She confided in me that she has turned away from the sex-for-money kind of life, (anyway that’s what she told me sha).
So when she told me about the issue she wants to go and settle in Abuja, I had no doubt about the trip.
She ended up spending one week there before running back to Lagos. She cooked up cock and bull stories of how her former boss tried to lure her into his bed but she declined and in retaliation, the guy intentionally delayed in paying her the outstanding money, the company owed her. Poor me! I swallowed everything she said, hook, line and sinker. Abi wetin I for do na?
We were very close as friends. Most times, when she runs into trouble, she confides in me for possible solutions and ‘gbaski’ ideas. Besides, I was supposed to be her Chief Bride’s Maid on her wedding day. So she tried to cover-up her atrocities in Abuja for fear that I would let the cat out of the bag if she confides in me.
Like the adage that says; nothing is hidden under the sun’ and if breeze blow, foul yansh go open’.
Ifunanya did not have any inkling that the American returnee she got the contract to service in Abuja was her husband’s best friend. Worse still, the guy was supposed to be their best man on the D-day.
Topping it all, she showed the guy her certificate in bedmatics and sexology. In other to satisfy and wow the Yankee guy to get his hard currencies, she took him on different kind of wild styles, V-boot, bicycle-in-the-air, touch-your-toe, hands-on-the-wall, let’s-go-there, kill-me-softly, etc (want to know more about these styles, feel free to contact me).
The guy was so lost and carried away with Ifunanya’s vast knowledge and skills on sex, that he paid her double of the slated price so she could spend six days with him instead of the agreed three days.
Two weeks to the anticipated date, Uche came back from his trip with exotic accessories for the wedding. Then he invited me over to the hotel where he was lodging, so I would meet and get acquainted with the best man.
On getting there, I met the husband and wife-to-be chatting and discussing on their wedding plans. Fortunately for me, Peter, the would-be best man hadn’t showed up.
As we were busy rehearsing with so much fun and excitement, Peter knocked… to be continued.