57: Daisy, My Daisy

posted in: Season 2: The Shadow Chase | 1

Before 12pm, the following day, Daisy called and said she was on her way. Since she was bold enough to take me to her house, it was time to return that Favour.

I walked down and waited for her in front of the gate. When she arrived, I took her down to the call girl’s place and bought two recharge cards. One for her and one for me. I had held her hand while walking down there. The call girl said nothing as she gave the cards to us, took N1000 from me and gave me N160 balance. I had purchased double N400 card and mathematically, I was supposed to get N200 back. Maybe it was tax or something but I wasn’t interested in asking. It had been that way since I returned. I never witnessed such thing in Europe.
The good news was that my appearance at her call table with Daisy had effectively put an end to her affairs with me.
”No matter how ugly a woman is, the vice of Jealousy still lingers on her mind”

We walked back hand in hand to our house. I was hoping that Stella would come down and see us but she didn’t. We got to our flat and I carried her on my laps.
”Where is Mummy” I had asked.

”She had gone to our shop in Idumota. She works there too with our apprentices” she said and kissed me before I said anything else.

She thanked me for coming yesterday and said she would love me forever if I followed them to the beach on Sunday.

”I would love to go with you alone sweetheart” I joked.
She said it would be the best but didn’t think her mother and sister would like the idea. I concurred.

We watched TV and discussed dresses, hairstyles and shoes as was with most young girls.
A new trend of hairs called the ‘Brazilian hair’ was making its debut in the Nigerian markets. According to Daisy, it was the best as well as the most expensive. I wondered why the hairs of the Brazilians had suddenly became better than that of the Europeans and Americans and Asians. Why on earth were African ladies not contented with their own black and beautiful hair formulas?

I personally loved African hairstyles. It made them look natural and cute but somehow, our ladies had decided that weaving on some long artificial fibres over their heads was the best. The wave came just as foreign Religion and took over our entire system.

”Do you know that brazilian hairs cost as much as N60, 000.” Daisy had said, interrupting my thoughts.

”Did you see the one my mother wore Yesterday, she bought it N60, 000” she continued.
Great! Mrs Importer’s wife would sell a TV or two and bought brazilian hair with it, but if an apprentice ate food with two meats, she would threaten to sack him.
It wasn’t my business anyway but I couldn’t help but wondered how Africans allowed such mental invasion from Americas, Europeans and even the Asians.
What part of our identities have we been able to export to them in return? Non except crimes which apparently came from individuals such as Ozoigbondu and other Igbo boys who sold drugs in the streets of Germany, Madam Grace and other Benin women who smuggled teenage girls to Europe for prostitution, Charles Femi Adoyele, Wole Ogunewen and other Yorubas who traveled to Europe and USA to hack people’s credit cards, The Abu Mutallabs and the other Hausa religious fanatics who bomb foreign interests and of course the advanced free fraud squad; the popular 419.
Those were the things we exported to them in return for sending us their technology, science and their hairs. Africans were not to be blamed totally because all my days in Europe, I had never came across any African product in their malls. The only place I saw African products such as Palm oil, Yams, pepper, Egusi and others were in the small African shops whereas back in Nigeria, their products covered every corner of our super markets and even the local markets.
The World trade organization had decided that our products were not good enough for the outside World and as a result, Hunger and suffering drived us out to their lands to do whatever it takes to succeed in life.

The reverie had somehow took my thoughts away from the beautiful young body sitting on my laps but when Daisy turned her attention from the TV and planted a kiss on my lips, I decided to leave the problems of my people behind and savour the moment.

”I feel hot, do you want us to make love” I asked her as soon as her mouth left mine.
She nodded and smiled.

I carried her into the room and laid her on the bed. Slowly, I pulled out her skirt and blouse with the underwears. She had taken her bath and had creamed her body with sweet smelling lotion. The cunnt I had shaven a few days back had started to grow some soft young hairs again and it looked so sweet just to look at it.

I was tempted to lower my mouth and give her some licking but the ” No licking in Nigeria” rule still overruled the urge.

In exchange, I slipped a finger down her Vagynna and brushed the clitoriiiis on my way in and out. She started moaning softly like she did the first time we did it..

”Happiness is never ready-made. It comes from our own actions”

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One Response

  1. i still wonder hw these girls jump to bed with u just like dat. Maybe cos dey r nt working class, or only bc they are small(age) or cheap.

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