You are welcome to Escapades! Your Best Platform for Spell Binding True Life Short Stories. For Advert Placement, Product Promotions, Book Editing on this blog, please call: 08054701481 or send an email to: &!

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Nuptial Vows (2)

Adetunji came in to find the door of the house opened wide. He was furious and ready to pounce on his lazy wife again, knowing she would be sleeping in bed. He took giant strides that was at par with his throbbing head…

He stood cold at the door of the bedroom when he saw another man on top of his wife.
The man ran out of the house when he sighted Adetunji, but his ‘innocent’ wife- Ifedayo just laid on the bed, unashamed, and without a hint of remorse.

“I want a divorce," she said.

He jumped on her and beat her till he thought she was going to die. He didn’t leave until he was sure he had left her a scar, a memorabilia of her unfaithful act- he broke her arm.

The next morning, Adetunji missed his morning devotion, he was angry with his pastor, his church, himself, his life, his wife and even God. Sometimes he saw himself like a madman. He took his bath and to his surprise the dining table was set, breakfast ready.

How could she have managed to prepare food with her hand broken?

Ifedayo had gone to the hospital a few hours after her hand had been broken by her husband. 

She came back, not only with her arm in a cast, but with something else.

She noticed as her husband dragged his feet to the dinning room and took a seat opposite her.
She wished him to wash his hands, that he be washed of his sins. God knows, she would have wrenched and thrown up into his food, so he wouldn’t have to eat it. 

But he didn’t even look at the food twice, he thought she wanted to poison him.

The son of a bitch will not renounce his sins and be washed clean? she thought.

She’s god now, and it was time for justice to be done. She asked her husband:

“Adetunji, do you remember the vows we took on our wedding day? You only quote it in part. 'For better for worse.'

She paused to make her message register.

'Till death do us part.'

She brought out an automatic pistol, and before Adetunji’s muscles could twitch, she pulled the trigger and he fell back, the chair with him with his head scattered on the floor.

Ifedayo drew the water closer to wash her hands; of her sins and guilt. She then pulled the food closer. 

 She observed a moment of prayer; not to bless the food, but to ask for forgiveness as she took a lump of the semovita and dipped it into the efo-riro she had poisoned, and swallowed it. 

 The blood that gushed out of her dead spouse’s scattered brain didn’t make her lose appetite; after all it was her last supper...

 Granny's advice
“Did she die granny?”asked Anthonia at the end of Granny's story of Adetunji and Ifedayo.

“ It's too loud! What's it you children of these days put in your ears? You talk so loud that it can cause a loud Jezebel screaming in your ears that you can become deaf," Grandma grumbled.

“Mama decibel, a unit of the measure of the intensity of sound, not Jezebel,” Steven, her grandson, corrected her.

“Listen to me you two. You think I will be on your side because you are my grandson? Please, don’t turn into a beast that will hurt this girl. Hian! Beasts are ugly.”

Then grandma turned to Anthonia,

“And you princess. Don’t you ever turn this gentleman into what he’s not. I watched him grow up and I know him well. Fan his love into flames; don’t wake up the beast in him.”

The young lovers looked at grandma’s wrinkled face and a head seasoned with grey hair.

“As much as I love you two, think it through before you take that vow before God and His people tomorrow at the church. If you are not ready now, you can wait till the year you are sure…even if I’m dead and I’m not around when you eventually tie the knot, I will rest well.”

Grandma looked from the deep, warning eyes of his grandson to the smiling, soulful eyes of his soon to be bride, and asked her,

“Do you know he smokes?”

Anthonia’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Ah! I thought as much," Grandma said.

Steven walked out on them. As Grandma watched Steven walk out of the Grey Center for The Old, Yaba, Lagos, she looked at Anthonia with a warmth in her eyes that a mother hen will hope for her chicks on a cold December night, trailed by words that tugged at the strings of her weak but broad heart,

“I’m not saying this because I don’t like you. You can swear by Almighty God I do, Oh! I do, and you know it.”

She looked into the now tearful eyes of Anthonia, as if for a reassurance.

“I know my grandson well, he will tell you I’m senile and I say whatever I like because I have no one to talk to. But that’s not true, my best friend was just wheeled away to his grave yesterday, we had a great time talking with each other.”

Anthonia smiled, “Thank you ma.”

Anthonia got out of the building to meet a defensive Steven ranting:

“Baby, don’t mind mama. She’s getting senile…and she probably made that story up! That’s what a long time not talking to somebody does to you.”

Anthonia shook her head and said,

“She does really know you well.”

With that, she walked away.
Steven ran after her,

“Please, babe…don’t walk away.”

Anthonia turned back to look into her lover’s eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

“I just have my fears Steve, and I know you have yours too, but we don’t talk about them. We only discuss ideas, not our emotions.”

Steven drew nearer to her, humbled and replied,

“Now, let’s talk.”

The End!
By Oluwaseun Ojegoke - Contributor (courtesy-

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Nuptial Vows (1)

It started so beautifully, like all fairy tales. But it was for just three years. And then his soft touches began to hurt and his tender smiles became devilishly smug.

 The nights cuddled together in bed, bearing dreams full of stars, turned to Gothic red-mooned nightmares. 

 The moments she felt butterflies in her tummy transformed to bugs in her gut. Their love slowly faded away like the lipstick stain on a rain beaten wall, until for better became worse.

Ifedayo sniffed what remained of the fragrance of the shrinking red rose flowers in the ceramic pot by the sitting room window. She wondered how something so divine, could lose its beauty- if not watered.

She had been so busy she hadn’t noticed; when the flowers begged for water and laid down their crowns to plead for sunshine. She guiltily placed the pot on the table beside the window, hoping it could be revived.

 They had been so busy they hadn’t noticed; the words left unsaid, kept in the closet of negligence and tagged with 'We’ll talk about it when I get back from work' had turned into a mess- a mass of decayed elements that snuffed out the air out of their marriage. 

 No wonder the flowers were dying; no wonder everything around them were dying. He lost his job but she never had one for he made her a sit-at-home full house wife. 

 She sometimes delighted in her husband’s loss of his job, a thing she should have been guilty about. Her hope was that, it will create the time to talk about the shelved issues. 

 She had been wrong, rather things became worse. You can swear by God she felt more guilty…Oh! Yes! She did. The many tearful nights that resulted were in hope she could wash away her guilt. Her incessant sobs irritated her husband, Adetunji, the more, making him to turn the sitting room to his bed room.

 Then he started breaking plates and cups to prove his points. He started hitting the wall at any burst of anger during many of their heated conversations, and she wondered if he had wished it was her body he pounded on. 

 Like always, she felt guilty again.

I shouldn’t have made him mad. I shouldn’t have said this, I shouldn’t have said that. If he wasn’t ready to talk, I shouldn’t have forced him. He’s my husband; I’m his wife. I should listen if he wants to talk, and shut up, if he wasn’t!

So, she often thought like a guilty and wretched bastard!

To her surprise and of course the whole world, Adetunji frequented church more often, even than she did. Yes, the whole world noticed, for the name of the church he attended was ‘The Global Church of God’- the globe can be interchanged with the world, or earth, you know.
But he never behaved like a church man. 

 He would wake up as early as 4 a.m to pray but wouldn’t wake his wife to join him. He never did pray for his wife.

One early Saturday morning, around 4.a.m., she was still sleeping and didn’t hear him knock at the door. He was coming from a vigil in church. 

When she eventually woke up and went to open the door for him, he responded to her greetings with a slap. Then she realized it had begun. She wasn’t wrong this time, he had tested the waters and it boosted his ego.

  Ifedayo became a punching bag; he needed not go to any gym. His home became a boxing ring, only that the opponent was a weaker vessel.


One morning, he woke up his wife. Ifedayo was surprised at his soft touch.

“It’s time for morning devotion, honey.”

 Morning devotion? Wonders shall never end in this house, Ifedayo thought. She was hoping it was going to be a new beginning for them. 

 She had thought an angel appeared to him in a dream and whispered or even hollered into his ears, “Tunji! Tunji!! Stop beating your wife or I will smite you with the sword!”

The man of the house began his exultation, and it was on the issue of marriage.

“The Bible says the only authentic and genuine and legal ground for a Christian woman to get divorced and get sent back to her father’s house is when she’d committed adultery,” Adetunji preached, looking straight into her brown eyes.

What’s he getting at? Did he catch me cheating on him? Me?

Those thoughts ransacked her mind, as if unsure of herself.

He continued, “but you are a woman that doesn’t have the gut. Of all your faults, infidelity is not one.”

So, pastor, what are you driving at?

“So, don’t let it ever cross your mind…you can’t ask for a divorce. It’s in my hands.”

Ifedayo took in a very deep breath.

“Let’s share the grace," he said.

Since that day, anytime thoughts of divorce crossed her mind, she dismissed it as the work of the devil and tried evading such thoughts by overworking herself- washing her husband’s clothes, used and unused; and plates used and unused. 

 After all an idle hand is the devil’s workshop.

One unfortunate morning, Ifedayo served her husband breakfast on the dining room table, and only God knew the devil that steered her to go carry the water meant for her husband to the sitting room and wet the flowers in the pot- the flowers she hoped to revive.

 She had never been to space, but she had a glimpse of it when Adetunji’s slap landed hard on her face. What was meant to bring her back from her daydream rather boycotted the realm of consciousness into an interstellar space.

She could only hear faintly the sound of the crashing flower pot, and all she just wished for was that some alien should appear and elope with her, he does not need to be handsome, he just needed to be an alien, not from this world- for she was tired of life.

Later that day, Ifedayo made a call to one of her friends, Emeka; he used to be her only boyfriend. 

 He never scored with her as Emeka usually said, and the pressure for sex made her to dump him then, in school. So, Ifedayo married Adetunji, a virgin- what else did he want from her?
Emeka had been calling Ifedayo for quite sometime now but she had refused to see him.

“Emeka, do you want to score some goals?”

 There was silence at the other end of the line.

 “Come quick to my house right now, before the final whistle.”

“Your… he-” he stammered.

“Don’t worry, he traveled, and won’t be back till next week. Come now before I change my mind.”

She lied. She knew by the time Emeka will be at her place, it will be the same time Adetunji will get back from his job search...

By Oluwaseun Ojegoke - Contributor (courtesy-

To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Launch of our e-Novel

Hi everyone,

In a post sometime ago, I wrote about some of the projects we are working on in this blog to keep up with our mission to entertain readers and visitors with interesting stories and stuff.

I'm happy to announce that one of them, our first e-book, is ready and will be launched soon. So watch this space for more details about the book and how it can be downloaded from this blog and other websites.

 Below is the promo of the novel so as to give you a hint of what it's about.

 I want to thank all my readers, visitors, business partners and other well wishers, who have been very supportive to us since we started this blog.
Your words of encouragement and commendation through emails, messages, Facebook, Twitter etc are well appreciated.

 Stay blessed and a lovely weekend to you all!

Patience- Blog Author

Tomorrow Never Ends  (an eNovel)

A love that transcends time, space, period...

They met by chance in traffic on a hot, sunny day on a street in Lagos.

It was hate at first sight. There was no recognition, the old bond was broken; a new one had to be made...

With time, love triumphs over hate.

 But their love is not meant to be. For forces beyond their control including incidences in a past life, threaten to destroy their love for each other.

 From the stable of Nigeria's No 1 website for enthralling short stories: Escapades- comes this sizzling eBook that's bound to keep you hooked from the very first page!

Oma and Daniel's tale is a story of star crossed lovers that is full of mystery, magic, history (of old mysterious Africa), passion, intrigues, betrayal and restoration that will leave the reader wanting more and more...

Coming soon!!! Watch Out!!! It's a must read for the summer holiday!!


Friday, June 24, 2016

   The Spiritualist and I (4) end game

Then, some weeks later, my doctor who had earlier examined me and conducted some tests, when I complained of being unwell, called me to his office where he gave me really shocking news.

 He said I had contracted a venereal disease (syphilis) and I had to be placed on treatment immediately for the sake of my baby and my wellbeing.

 I nearly passed out at his diagnosis.

 I kept wondering where I could have got it from. Ben? It could not be.

 He was a faithful husband who would never cheat on me.

 Then my mind went to the spiritualist. Could I have contracted it from him? 

  The doctor was not done.
 "We'll have to contact your husband so he can be treated too."

 I got really scared then. That night, I kept tossing and sighing, wondering how I was going to get out of the mess I found myself.

 When Ben returned from work two days later, his face looking like thunder, I knew I was in serious trouble.

 He threw a lab test result on the dining table, sat me down and pointing at the test, demanded in a barely controlled voice:

 "This can't be from me so I want the truth. If you want to remain my wife, I want the truth and nothing else."

 The look on his face frightened me. I had never seen my husband look so angry. It was as if he would kill me then and there.

 I knew the game was up and I, broke down in tears.

 Between sobs, the whole story came out- my meeting with the spiritualist, the anointing service, the nights spent with him when I said I was with my friend or at my parents house in Festac.

 Anyway, Ben threw me out of the house. When I finished my story, he called my parents and told them he was coming over with me.

I thought he would beat me, but he didn't. He only said in a voice filled with disgust, that he had been living with a prostitute all this while without realizing it.

 I begged him earnestly, blaming everything on my desperation for a baby but he was beyond reasoning.

 "Your sins have found you out," he screamed at me. "I never want to see you again in my life! And take that bastard you're carrying to the rightful owner because it's definitely not mine! Ashawo! Prostitute!" he threw at me as he dumped me and my bags in front of my parents' home.

 All this happened a few months ago. I've not seen Ben since then. My parents have gone to plead with him, all to no avail.

 I learnt his mother has sworn I will never return to her son's house and that she had found another wife for him.

 As for me, it's like my life's over. I feel so ashamed of myself, at my actions. I barely go out of the house. I stay indoors weeping, at the loss of my husband, the breakdown of my marriage and our wonderful relationship which I destroyed due to my desperation for a baby.

 I also weep for my unborn child, at the uncertain fate he will face in life with no father. Or a mother for that matter.

 For each day, as my delivery date draws closer, I pray I never come out of the labour room alive.

 There's nothing to live for anymore. Except a life of regrets and endless sorrow and anguish!
A wonderful weekend to you all and thanks a million for stopping by today!

The End!

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

The Spiritualist and I (3): sweet bundle

At Belinda's words, my resolve not to go to the spiritualist again weakened. She was right afterall.

Whenever my mother-in-law visited, I could see her eyes inspecting me, looking for signs of pregnancy.

These days, she barely answered my greeting and was always frowning and making faces at me.

The following week, I reluctantly returned to the spiritualist's place. Everything happened as before- the service in the hall, the anointing with oil, the screaming and rolling on the ground...
 I also ended up in bed with the spiritualist at the end of the programme. 

This went on for several months. With time, my guilt at cheating on my husband eased and I even began to enjoy my time with the man. I looked forward to being with him and began to enjoy his lovemaking more than with my husband.

 In fact, at a point, I no longer wanted to sleep with my husband and always came up with excuses anytime he wanted intimacy.

"Dear, it's my period."

"I have waist pain and a headache."

"The pastor said I should fast so..." 

These were some of the excuses I gave him just to avoid his touch. It was that bad! I only gave in once in a while so I could conceive as directed by the spiritualist.

My husband trusted me and never suspected me of sleeping with another man. Three months after I began to meet with the spiritualist, I found out I was pregnant.

I was full of joy at the news. Ben was so excited, he could not stop hugging and kissing me.

"I told you, it would happen with time. See, our patience has paid off," he declared, grabbing and dancing round the living room with me.

I happily registered for antenatal classes and began to make plans for the sweet bundle of joy coming our way.

I thought my lovemaking sessions with the spiritualist would end as soon as I got pregnant but I was wrong. 

He wanted us to continue meeting. He explained: "To keep the baby safe and secure. You have to keep coming till you are close to delivery."

I agreed as I always did to all his suggestions. I don't know what that man did to me but I suspect he must have cast a spell on me for me to obey his every word.

Anyway, we continued to see until something horrible happened five months into my pregnancy...

To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Monday, June 20, 2016

The Spiritualist and I (2)

He looked at me and stated:

"My daughter, rejoice for your troubles are over. You are in the home of wonders and miracles. So, your miracle is at hand."

 I don't know how to describe the feeling but it was like a great burden was lifted from my shoulders and I felt a kind of peace I had not known for some time.

 Later, he gave me a list of items I would need for a spiritual cleansing that he said would make my womb attractive to babies. 

 I was to return in a week's time for the cleansing to begin.

 I was ready to do whatever he told me if that would give me a child so I quickly got the items. The following week, I returned to the man. 

 My husband was not aware that I had visited a spiritualist; I knew he would not approve so on the day my appointment, I told Ben I was visiting my friend Belinda who was very ill. 

 It was a lie but I needed an alibi to cover up my tracks.

 On my arrival, I was taken to a room in the main house attached to the man's consulting room.
  My escort, a young lady told me to undress and handed me a long, cream colored gown like a caftan, to wear.

 After I put it on, we went to another place. It was a long hall with an altar and a long row of benches facing it. 

 There were other people, mostly women already seated. They were all dressed uniformly in the same robe like the type I had on.

 I sat down and waited in anticipation.

 A short while later, the spiritualist came in. In his long white robe, he looked different from the first time I met him.

 A service of sorts started which was like a normal worship service with singing, clapping and dancing.
 Thereafter, the main deliverance programme started.

 Those of us who were looking for the fruit of the womb were called to the front. I went and knelt down among the other women who numbered over a hundred.

 I could see him anointing some of the women to my left. Some were convulsing as if they had epilepsy. I heard a woman scream and began to roll on the ground.

 She caused quite a commotion but the spiritualist and the assistants that followed him ignored her and moved down the line.

 Soon, it got to my turn.

 He rubbed some olive oil vigorously on my forehead, all the while speaking in tongues. At a point, I began to feel dizzy and before I knew what was happening, I was lying flat on my back on the ground.

 Later, an attendant led me to a seat where I relaxed for a while.

 I must have slept off because the next thing I knew, someone was tapping me on the shoulder. It was one of the spiritualist's assistants.

 I looked round the hall. All seemed quiet. The anointing service was over and many of the women were lying around on the benches and even on the ground.

 The place was cold and I shivered a little. I had no watch on me but I knew it must have been very late.

   Under a spell
 "The master wants to see you," the man, an assistant said. Thinking it was part of the deliverance service, I followed him.

 He led me to a room that was lit with a candle and nothing else.

 Seated behind a large table was the spiritualist, still wearing his robe.

 The assistant bowed to him and left the room, leaving me alone with the man he called Master.

 "Come closer. Don't be afraid," the spiritualist said, smiling genially at me. 

He asked me how I found the service and I told him it was ok. 

 "But I'm tired now and I'll like to go home and sleep," I told him, suppressing a yawn.

 "You can sleep here," he stated pointing a finger to his right. For the first time, I noticed a large bed at the other end of the room. 

 He then told me there was something he still had to do for the deliverance to be effective so my womb could open up for babies.

 "Lie down," he said. Perhaps by then, I was under a spell or something because I simply got up and went to the bed.

 The man brought out a bottle of anointing oil and began to rub it on my stomach, muttering things I couldn't understand under his breath.

A strange feeling came over me as if my spirit was drifting away from my body.

My limbs became weak and I could not even lift my arms to push the man away as I felt him undressing me and fondling my body, kissing and caressing my breasts and thighs before climbing on top of me...

 I woke to bright sunshine which streamed in through the windows in the room.

 At first, my mind was blank, the events of the previous night came flooding in and I sat up abruptly.

 I felt dazed and confused. Did that spiritualist actually have sex with me or was it all a bad dream?

 As if in answer, the man came into the room then from the adjoining bathroom, a towel tied round his waist. He had just taken a shower and water still dripped from his body.

 I broke into tears when I saw him.
"You took advantage of me! You're a wicked man!" I screamed at him.
 He simply smiled and sat on the bed.

 "How are you this morning, my dear?" he asked. He tried to draw me to him but I shrank from him. 

 He then explained that his sleeping with me was part of the deliverance service, that it was what will enable me get pregnant. 

 I was not ready to listen. I jumped up from the bed, hurriedly dressed and ran out of the room as if demons were after me.

"See you next week, dear!" I heard the man say.

I was full of guilt as I went home. I felt bad that I had allowed another man to touch me, making me betray my husband.

I also felt used and deceived by the man. What kind of deliverance involved my sleeping with the prophet? 'Lecherous fool,' I fumed.

The deliverance was supposed to last a month but I swore never to return to that place again.

But when I told Belinda what had transpired between the spiritualist and I, she did not see anything wrong with it.

"If that's what will make you get pregnant, so be it," she bluntly stated.

"But it's wrong! I've never cheated on my husband since we got married. I feel bad that I did this to him. What if he finds out? He'll kill me!"

 "Who's going to tell him?" she queried. "Look, Fina. The most important thing is for you to get pregnant. It doesn't matter what you do to achieve your goal. Just try to bear it.

 "Remember that your in-laws are beginning to lose patience with you and if you are not careful, they might bring in another wife for their son to bear children for him."

 Will Fina return to the spiritualist? Please log in tomorrow to find out!

To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

The Spiritualist and I (2) Preview

My escort, a young lady told me to undress and handed me a long, cream colored gown like a caftan, to wear.

 After I put it on, we went to another place. It was a long hall with an altar and a long row of benches facing it.

 A short while later, the spiritualist came in. In his long white robe, he looked different from the first time I met him.

 A service of sorts started which was like a normal worship with singing, clapping and dancing.

 "The master wants to see you," the man, an assistant said. Thinking it was part of the deliverance service, I followed him.

 "Come closer. Don't be afraid," the spiritualist said. 

 "But I'm tired now and I'll like to go home and sleep," I told him, suppressing a yawn.

 "You can sleep here," he stated pointing a finger to his right...

 The full story will be posted this evening. Don't miss it. 

 Have a great day everyone and thanks for the visits and comments on the blog. You all are highly appreciated!

To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Friday, June 17, 2016

The Spiritualist and I (1)


At my age (early thirties), I should have a lot to look forward to in life. But right now, that's not the case. 

I feel as if my life is over. That there's no use remaining in this world anymore with all it's troubles and tribulations. 

How did I get to this stage of my life, that I've become filled with so much despair? So much pain, sorrow and regret?

It's a long story but I won't make it too long so as not to bore you readers.


 My problems began about five years ago after I got married to my husband, Ben. Ben and I met in the church. He was a very dedicated worker who was in charge of the youth fellowship.

 Other girls in the church had their eyes on him because of his good looks and caring nature. Besides that, he also had a good job in a telecoms company.

 But I was the one he was interested in. We courted for about two years before we got married.

 All was fine for the first few years of our married life. Ben was loving and caring and did everything to make me happy. I had no regret choosing him as my life partner.

 Baby blues
But our happy state did not last long. And it was all due to my inability to conceive after four years of marriage.

 Some might say, that's not a long time. But to a young bride and in a society like ours where the cry of a baby is expected to be heard a year after the wedding, it's like eternity.

  Though my husband was not really concerned (at least on the surface), I was worried about my childless state.

 My anxiety was compounded by my childhood friend, Ivie who got married the same year that I did and was already the proud mother of two.

 As the years went by with no pregnancy, having a baby became an obsession for me. I would spend hours on my knees praying and crying for a baby, for God to bless me with a child.

 Ben saw the stress I was going through and began to fear for my health.

 "Fina, dear, you need to take it easy. I understand how you feel. But stop being so anxious about this matter. With time, we'll have our own child. Be patient," he advised.
 But I was not ready to listen. I wanted my own baby like other women I saw around me every day.

 How long was I going to wait, I kept wondering.

 Was it when I'm old that I'll have my own children?  I had run out of patience and I was ready to do anything to be a mother. Besides, my in laws were already showing signs of displeasure at my condition. 

 'I have to do something before they will consider marrying another wife for their son who will bear him children,' I kept telling myself.

 Visit to a spiritualist
I had a very good friend Belinda who was my colleague at my place of work. One day, I told her about my problems with having babies. 

She was really sympathetic, promising to help find a solution.

 Two weeks later, she told me she would take me to see someone about my problem. I thought it was a doctor at first but she shook her head when I asked.

 "It's someone very experienced in these things. Don't worry, Fina. You'll surely have a baby after visiting him," she stated confidently. 

 That gave me hope and I looked forward to seeing this wonderful person who could give me my heart's desire.

 We went to see the man one Saturday morning at his centre at the Iyana Ipaja area of Lagos. He turned out to be a spiritualist or prophet who Belinda assured me was very powerful and had helped many people in solving their problems especially barrenness.

 "Lots of women have had babies after they consulted him," she stated.
 There were many people waiting to see the man on our arrival.

 We found seats and waited our turn.
 Finally, we were ushered into his office. He was not what I expected. Instead of an old man with a long beard and flowing white robe, I saw a middle-aged man dressed casually in a brown linen shirt and trousers.
 He had a smooth round face with piercing eyes that seemed to see through one.

There was a strong smell of incense in the room.
The man listened calmly while Belinda told him my story, about my childlessness. At the end, he looked at me with those piercing eyes of his and said:

What went down at the spiritualist's place? Details coming soon!


To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page


The Spiritualist and I (Preview)

Our new series titled 'The Spiritualist and I' begins tonight @ 8 pm (Nigerian time). Don't miss it!

Here's an excerpt from the story-

A strange feeling came over me as if my spirit was drifting away from my body.

My limbs became weak and I could not even lift my arms to push the man away as I felt him undressing me and fondling my body...

Join us tonight for the full story. Do have a swell day!

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Destiny's Game (4) Finale

The incident happened two months before our wedding. The arrangements were going smoothly with the reception venue booked, invitation cards sent to the printers and our outfits including Rachel's wedding gown almost ready for the big day.

Running around making all the plans was stressful but I did not mind as they were plans for our future together as man and wife.

I thought Rachel too was happy or so I thought. How was I to know that she was seeing someone else besides me even as we were making plans to marry?

I only got to know of her deception one day when I got a call from her mother one Saturday morning. 

She wanted me to see her at home on an urgent matter. 

Thinking it had to do with the meeting I was to have with Rachel's older brothers on the traditional marriage ceremony at her father's house the following month, I went over.

The woman was not her usual cheerful self when I arrived at her place. She looked pale and weak and I thought she was ill. 

But she assured me she was fine when I remarked on the way she looked. She was alone in the house as Rachel, who had got a job in a media house, was on duty at work.

"Why don't we go to the hospital? You don't look too well, Mummy," I stated as I sat in a chair. 
She shook her head.

"I'm fine. It's just that..." she started to speak then stopped. Then to my surprise, she exclaimed:

"How could she do such a thing? I used to think she was the most sensible of all my children!"

I looked curiously at her, not comprehending what she was saying.

"What's the matter, ma? Who did what?" I inquired.

For answer, she picked up a paper from the centre table and handed it to me. 

It was a letter addressed to me. I read the contents quickly not believing what was before my eyes.

How could this be true; my own Rachel with another man? How? Was someone playing a cruel joke on me, I wondered as I flung the letter angrily on the ground, too dazed and confused to say anything for a while. 

Her mother looked at me warily, a look of concern and anxiety on her fleshy face.

"I tried to stop her but she would not listen! Such a stubborn girl! I don't know what has come over her! " the woman fumed.

In the letter, Rachel had written that she had called off the wedding, that she could no longer marry me when she was still in love with Tony, her ex-boyfriend. 

He was back in the country and she had left to be with him and I should not look for her. She was sorry for taking that decision but she could no longer continue to deceive herself...
Picking up the pieces

To say I was devastated over the unexpected turn of events was stating the obvious. 

 It took me over a year to recover from the shock brought on by Rachel's betrayal. 

 I just could not get over the fact that she had dumped me just weeks before our wedding for an old flame. 

 How could she? Was it something I had done? She had assured me she was over the guy so how could she hook up with him again? 

 So many questions that needed answers to but there was no one to answer them. 

 With time though, with the help of my family and friends, including Rachel's mother who was not in support of her daughter's actions, I picked up the pieces of my life. 

 I tried to put everything behind me and start all over but try as I could, I could not forget Rachel.

 I kept thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, what informed her actions and...

  She was like an obsession for me and I simply could not let go.

 I did not see her for nearly two years after our break-up. She had left the country with Tony after she left me and I heard they were planning to marry. 

For sometime, I did not hear much about her. I had moved out of our old neighbourhood and I did not see her mother that often.

 Then one day, I had gone home to see my parents when my younger brother, Mark who still lived at home told me that Rachel was back in Nigeria.

 "I saw her three days ago at Madu's chemist shop down the road. She came to buy some drugs for her mother. She asked after you," he stated.

 Rachel back? 

I wondered if she was in the country on vacation with her husband as it was the Christmas period when some of our people abroad often travel home to see their family and friends.

I wanted to ask my brother about that but resisted the urge. She was married to someone else now and no longer part of my life or so I thought.

About three weeks later, on my way from another visit to my parents, I was driving towards the gate on the street when someone called my name.

I looked through the window and saw Rachel. My first instinct was to ignore her and just drive away. 

But seeing her again, hearing her sweet voice killed all the anger and frustration I felt at the way she had treated me.

I got down from the car and we exchanged greetings.

She said she had wanted to see me since her return to the country and wanted us to go somewhere quiet where we could talk.

I was initially reluctant but had to give in after much pleading. That day, she apologised profusely for what she had done, stating that it was stupidity on her part and Tony's smooth words that made her do it.

"I'm really sorry Julian! I don't know if you can ever forgive me for what I did to you. It was a terrible thing for someone to do to his fiancé. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me!" she pleaded earnestly.

 I smiled wryly at her words.

 "I forgave you long ago, Rachel. All I wish for you now is happiness with your husband."

 "What are you talking about? What husband?" she said quickly.

 I looked at her confused.
 It was then she told me the story of her time with Tony abroad. She explained that she and Tony had never married though there were plans for that. 

 She said the guy turned out to be a criminal who was deeply involved in the drugs business and other fraudulent activities.

 "I only found out when I got to Canada. Right now, he is in prison for a drug related offence-he was given a fifteen year jail term," she said. 

 It was all news to me and you might say, it serves her right for what she did to me, dumping me for a sleaze bag like Tony. 

 But instead of feeling happy at her predicament, it was pity I felt for her.

 That day, I realized I still loved Rachel, that infact, I had never stopped loving or wanting her.

Anyway, to shorten the story, Rachel and I got back together. People who knew us and our story particularly my family and friends thought I was crazy to take her back after her treatment of me.

 "You still want that woman back after what she did to you? Are you sure you are alright, Julian? There's nothing wrong with you 'upstairs?" my good friend Dapo asked, with his forefinger pointed at his head. 

He had come to my house earlier that day and found Rachel there. As soon as she had left to buy some drinks at a nearby store, he had started bombarding me with questions.
I smiled at his words.
 "Of course I'm ok! You won't understand the way I feel because you have never been in love," I retorted.

 "Well, if this is what love does to people, making them reason in an irrational manner, then I never want to be in love!" he fired back.

 I simply laughed at his words, feeling happy and contented for the first time in years. 

 My Rachel was back and that was all that mattered to me. 

 I don't care what people have been saying, that she has charmed me or used voodoo or 'juju' or cast whatever spell on me. 

 They simply don't understand.

 What do they know about my feelings for Rachel, that when she's not by my side, I feel empty, incomplete as if one of my body parts is missing? 

 Now she's back in my life, I feel complete, a total being again.

 Rachel and I are like the tortoise and its shell, inseparable. It was our fate, our destiny and there's nothin anybody can do about it...

The End!
Did Julian do the right thing by accepting Rachel back or you consider him a fool as some believe?

Readers feedback are welcome!

You can follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only)

Saturday, June 11, 2016

Destiny's Game (3)

We were talking on the phone one day when Rachel said:
"Julian, I'll like to be with you, be your girlfriend." 

 That day, I was so happy I went round for the rest of the day with a big smile on my face.

 "At last! Why did it take her so long to accept you?" my friend and roommate, Phil said when I told him the news.

 "Better late than never!" I rejoined smiling adding: "I don't care how long it took as long as she has agreed to be mine!"

 "So, when is she coming to visit? I can't wait to see this babe that has made you so happy. I've never seen you this excited over a lady before!"

 I simply smiled and picking up my soap case went to the bathroom to take a shower.

  Rachael came a week later to visit and we had a swell time together. Being with her as a couple was magical and I knew within me that I never wanted to be parted from her again. I had found my Eve...

   Five years later...
   Time went by, the seasons came and went. I graduated, started work and began to make plans for my future. Rachel, who had gained admission to my former school to study Computer Science, was a strong part of that future. 

 Our relationship had been going well and in her final year, I proposed to her. I had made up my mind that she was the one I wanted to spend my life with, that there was no one else for me. 

 As I slipped the ring on her finger that day, I said: 
  "Please be my wife, my future, my everything. I love you Rachel."

  "I love you, too, Julian," she said as she slipped her arms round my neck. I hugged her tightly to me and kissed her sweet lips.

 My parents were happy with us when I broke the news to them. 

  My mother especially liked Rachel and stated that I had picked the right 'one'.

 "At least it's not the older sister who is all over the place with different men. Such a big flirt," she said scornfully as she and my Dad sat talking about the engagement and Rachel's family.

 "So, when are you two getting married?" Rachel's mother asked about six months after our engagement. The woman wanted us to set a date for our wedding as soon as possible, stating there was no need to delay it.

 "Ah, Mum! It's too soon! Besides, I'm still in school," Rachel said. 
 "What do you mean? You are both of age. I was 22 when I married your dad. And you are much older than that. The earlier you marry, the better, don't delay too long," she said emphatically.

 I assured her that we were already making plans, that as soon as Rachel completed her studies, we would marry.
 As soon as she left school, we began making wedding plans. We chose a date about six months ahead so that we could have enough time to make our plans. 

 It was during this period that something happened to Rachel.

 Unknown to me, Tony, my fiance's ex- boyfriend had returned from his base abroad. He had also contacted her and they had started seeing again. 

 I was unaware of all these until much later when we had gone far in our plans, when I was already dreaming about our future together. 

 How could this happen, you might wonder? Why would Rachel do that to me, someone that I loved so much and I had planned my whole future around? 

 Well, that's life; you make plans and something you never expect comes along to truncate them. In my own case, Tony was the enemy, the villain who wanted to destroy my happiness...

Watch out for the rest of the story coming soon! Do have a great weekend, everyone!

To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Friday, June 10, 2016

Destiny's Game (2)

It came to a point whenever I was home on holidays, I spent more time in Rachel's place than in my own home.

"We hardly see you these days, Jul. You are always with Rachel. Have you fallen in love with her? Is she your new girlfriend? What about Funmi?" Mark, my younger brother queried one day.

"Are you jealous?" I countered teasingly. It was a Saturday and we were downstairs washing our parents' cars in the courtyard.

"You bet I am! I have lost my only brother to a 'strange' woman! Brother snatcher!" he said in mock anger.

I laughed, playfully splashing him with some water from the bucket on the ground. 

"Stop oh! Or I will throw this soapy rag at you!" he said, waving the cloth at me threateningly. I laughed again and ran into the house.

Later, in my room I thought about what my brother had said earlier about Rachel. He could be right. 

For whenever I was with her, I felt a kind of happiness and inner peace that I had never felt with any other girl including my current girlfriend, Funmi. 

We had been dating for nearly two years and though I cared about her a lot, things had changed since I met Rachel. 

Most times, she was the one on my mind, the one I was always thinking about.

  I was not sure she was aware of the way I felt about her; I had not told her about my feelings for her but I knew it was only a matter of time.
  A few days before I was to return to school, I invited Rachel out on a date. I borrowed my Mum's car and we went to watch a movie. 

 That evening before I dropped her at home, I opened up about the way I felt about her.
 "I know this might come as a surprise to you. But I can't pretend any more. I'm in love with you, Rachel," I stated.

 She did not look surprised or anything; she just looked up at me quickly before stating simply:
  "You can't be. You have a girlfriend."

  "I know. But I don't love her. It's you I love and want to be with," I stated. I added that when I returned to school, I was going to break up with Funmi

 "It's not fair to her, remaining with her when I'm in love with someone else," I pointed out. That day, she did not give me any firm answer; she said she needed time to think about my proposal. 

 So, I remained hopeful as we parted that night.

  On my last day, I went to Rachel's house to inform her mother about my leaving for school the next day.

 "She has gone to the salon to fix her hair," the woman said on my arrival. She was watching a movie showing on the cable TV in the living room so I sat to keep her company. 

But she seemed to have lost interest in the film for she was more interested in chatting especially about her youngest daughter.

 "So, you like Rachel. I knew it! I could tell from the way you look at her!" she declared succinctly.

 "What?" I said, taken by surprise at her words.

  She laughed before saying:

 "Rachel told me everything. She tells me about her love life, you know. Unlike her sister!" 

  She paused before adding:

 "I think she likes you too from the way she talks about you. You know, you are the first guy she has shown interest in since Tony."

 Rachel had never mentioned him before and I became curious about him.
 "He was her ex-boyfriend," she explained when she saw the quizzical expression on my face. 

 "I think he was her first love; she used to be so crazy about him. When they were together, she would talk about him all day long till I got sick of hearing his name! 
But two years ago, they broke up and he left the country. He's based in Canada now. Though she denies it, I think my daughter still loves him."

  Rachel came in shortly after.

 "Hope Mum has not been boring you with tales of the past when she was the most beautiful girl in Nigeria!" she said teasingly.

 I laughed at her words.

 "No. We were talking about you instead," I stated. She glared at her Mum, grumbling about how she would not mind her business but always sticking her nose in her affairs. 

 "Busybody Mama!" she scoffed. Then picking up her bag, she went to her room.

  Her Mum laughed, stating: "What other business do I have but you? Afterall, I'm a jobless woman!"

 "Your hair looks fine," I complimented her sometime later as she saw me off. She smiled up at me and to my surprise, took my hand in hers.

 We walked in silence till we got to the gate of my house.
 "I will miss you," I said, holding onto her hand. 

 "Call me when you get to school," she said.

 "You bet I will!" I assured her. I kept to my promise, calling her regularly and enquiring about her Mum. 

 It was while we were chatting one day on phone that she stated:

 "Julian, I'll like to..."

To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Wednesday, June 08, 2016

Destiny's Game (1)

Any reasonable man whose fiancé dumped him some months before their wedding for some one else, would have counted his losses and moved on.

But not me. I refused to let go and hung on to her.

What man would do that?

A big fool, you might say. Well, I'm that fool. Call me a fool in love and you will be quite right. 

Most people especially my friends, relatives and others who have heard about my story and what Rachel did to me keep wondering if I'm ok in the head. Or what powerful 'juju' did she use on me, they wonder...
 There's nothing wrong with me, my mental faculties are all intact. I'm not crazy as some might think. The only 'madness' I'm suffering from is that emotion called love. It's eaten deep into my soul and made me lose all sense of reasoning as my family keep saying.

 The thing is, they don't understand. What do they know about my feelings for Rachel, that when she's not by my side, I feel empty, incomplete as if one of my body parts is missing? Don't get me wrong. I have loved other ladies in my life but with Rachel, it was different...

 My name is Julian and here's my story...

I got to know Rachel when she moved to our neighbourhood in Surulere, Lagos with her family. 

 Her parents were divorced and she lived with her mother and older sister. The sister, Florence whom everyone called Flo, was the one that first drew the attention of the guys on my street. 

 Flo was stunning looking, one of the most beautiful ladies I had ever seen. Within a few months of their arrival, most of the young guys in the area were jostling for her attention. 

I was in my final year at the University of Lagos back then and during the holidays, when I came home, I used to watch with amusement as some of my friends on the street made 'bets' on who would first date Flo.

 But Flo turned all of them down, stating she was not interested in 'street romance' with idle guys who had nothing better to do than hang around street corners to 'eye' young ladies. 

 They thought she was proud and stuck up but Flo had her reasons. Back then, she worked in a company at Ikeja and on her return from work at night, different flashy cars would drop her at home. It soon became clear that Flo was only interested in certain types of men; those with money, lots of it.

  With all the attention on Flo, the younger sister Rachel was mostly overlooked. It was not that she was unattractive or something.

  But her older sister had the kind of radiant beauty that tended to put all other women around her in the shade. The first day I saw her, I remember she had her arm round her mother's waist and was helping her into their car. 

 The woman had a health condition that made her pay regular visits to the hospital. It was Rachel who was not working or in school then who had to be taking her for her treatment.

 'Such a caring daughter,' I remember thinking whenever I walked past their house and saw her either taking her Mum to the hospital or bringing her back home. 

 It was later when I got to know her better that I learnt about the sacrifices she had had to make for her mother.

 After her secondary school education, Rachel, at 17 had got admission to the university. Unfortunately, it was the same period her mother's illness worsened. 

 Flo was busy with her job and social engagements so the responsibility to be her Mum's carer, fell on Rachel. 

 She had to defer her admission so she could take care of her mother. She had been doing that job for about six years with so much dedication before I met her.

 Rachel and I became friends after I helped her fix their family car one day. She was on her to the hospital with her mother. 

 The car did not start and as I was passing by then, I decided to help. I opened the bonnet and tinkled with the battery a little and within a short time, the car started.

 They were both very appreciative. 

  "Thanks a lot, young man. You saved us a trip to the mechanic," the mother, who was sitting at the back of the car, said. Rachel also thanked me, smiling and waving as she got into the driver's seat and drove off.

 After that day, she would stop and chat with me whenever we met on our street. Then some time later, I was passing in front of their house one day, when her mother, who was sitting on the balcony of their house saw me and invited me inside. 

 "Rachel has gone to the market and I'm all alone in the house. I'm feeling bored so come and keep me company," she stated as she ushered me inside the living room. 

 She served me drinks and brought her photo albums for me to browse. As I looked at the pictures especially the ones of her in her youth, I could see where her daughters especially Flo got their looks from.

 "You were very beautiful when you were young," I said admiringly.

 "Ah, you need to see me back in the day, when I was a young girl. The young men were all crazy about me then! My daughter Flo thinks she's beautiful and behaves and feels like a 'star' but compared to me back then, she looks plain," she said, smiling broadly.

 Looking at the pictures of the slim and shapely young woman with ravishing looks and the elderly, overweight woman sitting opposite me, I found it difficult to believe they were the same person.
Then seeing a picture of her with a young, smiling man who had his arm round her waist, I asked who he was.

 She glanced at the picture, then wrinkling her nose as if she had smelt something bad, she said shortly:

 "My ex-husband." She did not elaborate further and sensing it was a topic she found distasteful, I did not ask any further questions about him.

 Shortly after, Rachel came in. I stayed with them for sometime before leaving. 
 "The food is almost ready. Why don't you stay for dinner?" Rachel, who had been busy cooking in the kitchen said. I told her I had an appointment somewhere and I was running late.

 "Come and visit us anytime, Julian. I enjoyed chatting with you!" Rachel's mother stated, waving at me from where she sat on the sofa.

 Regular visitor
  I became a regular visitor at their home after that. With time, I came to know more about the family especially Rachel's mother. She had worked for many years in a government parastatal until her forced retirement ten years before in her early fifties because of her health problems. 

 "I loved my job but I just could not go on. My heart was giving me problems so I had to quit," she told me one day during one of my visits. 

 By then, she was already separated from her husband so she had moved to one of her properties on the outskirts of the city.

 "We had to move to this house which I had been renting out as the former place was too far from the hospital where I go for treatment," she explained.

 She spoke glowingly about her younger daughter, of her care and devotion to her.

 "I don't know what I would have done without Rachel. She's a daughter in a million," she enthused. Of Flo, she had nothing but harsh words for her. 

 "Flo is like her father: selfish and self-centred, always thinking of herself alone. How many times do you see her around? She claims to be busy with her work. But I know its because of her many boyfriends! When she closes from work, instead of coming home to see how her mother is doing, she prefers to go clubbing!

 If it were not for Rachel, only God knows how I would have coped!" she added, with a slight shake of her head.

 I think it was from that point I began to grow fond of Rachel. Seeing the way she took care of her mother aroused admiration in me which in time grew to something deeper, more profound...

Thanks to all my visitors and readers for stopping by my blog today. Stay well, everyone!

To Be Continued...

You can also follow us on Facebook

PLEASE Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only) or
Photo from Google Page

Tuesday, June 07, 2016

Destiny's Game- Promo

Any reasonable man whose fiancé dumped him some months before their wedding for some one else, would have counted his losses and moved on.

But not me. I refused to let go and hung on to her like a leech.

What man would do that?

A big fool, you might say. Well, I'm that fool. Call me a fool in love and you will be quite right. 

Most people especially my friends, relatives and others who have heard about my story and what Rachel did to me keep wondering if I'm ok in the head. Or what powerful 'juju' did she use on me, they wonder...

  Log in later today for this new series about obsessive love and its consequences. Don't miss it!

Monday, June 06, 2016

Tiwa Savage: No Such Thing as Bad Publicity

Did Tiwa Savage pull a fast one on us?

Is this the same Tiwa Savage who was on video crying and lamenting the challenges in her life and marriage just recently?
The news of Tiwa’s marital struggles, allegations and counter allegations hit the airways like wildfire in harmattan season; it was the news on every lip and the latest video on every device, the trend had no end as the internet practically broke in half…..until the story dramatically changed.
In the last couple of weeks, it has been tweets upon tweets about her new song with WizKid and her RED album! And as if that was not enough, new captivating pictures have followed too, it is obvious all the mourning is over and the ‘Game Changer’ is back in business.


The Mavin first lady seems to have turned the tables, bringing to point again the lifelong adage that there is no such thing as bad publicity. It is no doubt a perfect time to launch an album with WizKid – who with Tiwa Savage are Nigeria’s King and Queen of Social Media.
Statistics show that her online followers increased during the saga, but while people expected to see more mourning and agonizing tweets; she used the platform to promote her brand.
Little wonder, Pampers, Pepsi, AP etc. with whom she has various juicy publicity contracts didn’t cancel her deal. Nice one Tiwa, you go girl! There is no such thing as bad publicity!
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...