Sola lay sprawled on the living room carpet, legs propped up on one of the sofas, typing on her phone and laughing when Yinka barely managed to walk in. As usual, she was home alone and lost in her phone. Yinka couldn’t help but wonder who she was always chatting with that made her giggle so much and kept her completely engaged.
My Den of Secrets
Posted by FemmeFaçade in My Life on August 10th, 2012
Urgh, I’m definitely grateful, to God that I have my own room. I guess being preggers doesn’t really dawn on you until you wake up with that revolting desire to empty your insides into the nearest bowl-like thing you find. I put a thick towel over my head as I heaved; My sister told her friend, one time over the phone, that it dulls the heaving sounds. I wonder when that one got pregnant. She must have had an abortion. This family is funny.
I was supposed to go try out my dress selections, but I couldn’t so mummy agreed to order all 10 of them. A ridiculous waste of Daddy’s money in my opinion, but he deserves it. It’s better if I spend it than those purposeless whores that lace his different hotel rooms like dung in beautiful wrapping. I’ll wear the dresses… sometime.
According to that same overheard phone call, my sister slept with Daddy’s friend again, yuck. You should see the way she talks about him to her stupid friends, likening him to RMD when he’s really Larry Koldsweat’s long-lost twin brother with a bit more hair on his head and inside his ears. Apparently, he’s different because he’s into mild BDSM and it thrills her… is it okay that I feel like heaving again at the thought?
I’m so ready for my post finale. I’ve gathered pictures and documents, and the entire shazam is just waiting for graduation day to be let loose. I wanted to do it sooner, but CD insisted I wait till graduation. Of which, CD’s been acting different since he found out about it. I guess he was a little less tense when he came to visit me. We fooled around a little and played monopoly, but I could still feel that cold, hard edge to his demeanor. He threatened me a little the other day, but said he was kidding.
I don’t know what to believe anymore; everything is scary…
Yinka stood leaning on the railing, looking over Jabi Lake. The park was empty as it often was on weekdays, and Yinka liked to spend time there to clear his head. That morning was especially cool, and he was grateful for the gentle breeze that danced around him, soothing him as his thoughts threatened to burst his skull wide open. He tried to focus instead on the murky water beneath him, willing the pain away with no particular luck. A little way off the dock, he thought he could see a small group of people doing their laundry in the water, but he wasn’t exactly sure. Not that it would be a surprise, really.
There was a time when Jabi Lake was one of Abuja’s most frequented recreational sites. The grass was taken care off and people could have picnics, play sports, go jet skiing and have wild boat parties into the morning; and the water was clean. The boat rides were great back then, when there were actual professionals in charge and the speed boats were serviced and maintained properly. Of course, there are people who still come for the boat rides now, but mostly at their own risk. The state of the park, like almost every other venture in Nigeria, recreational or otherwise, had steadily deteriorated – the grass, mostly just weed now, was long and unkempt, the horses just looked really sick and smelled really bad; and the least irritating way to describe the lake itself would be to say that it had become a breeding ground for several exotic insects and arguably life-threatening species of algae.
His eyes caught an almost-dead horse, chewing on what looked like a decaying heap of raffia, flies hustling for their pound of horse-flesh, and he remembered how Sola hated horses and how she’d almost lost her head screaming the last time he’d tried to get her on one. He smiled to himself; she would cringe in disgust at the sight and say “You see, I knew there was a reason why I hated horses. Yuck!” Even at that, she was one of the few people who still liked to come here, though the place reeked of desolation. She like the serenity now that it was abandoned, she’d told him once and he’d teased her about secretly hooking up with guys here.
So he stood, allowing himself to soak in whatever memories of his sister the lake held, until the blaring of horns pulled him back to the present and he was reminded of his main objective. Sighing, he pulled out a velvet bag from his pocket: what would be his strongest reminder of dear Sola, dropped it in the lake and walked away. In the corner of his eye, he saw someone or something move over by the trees. A lost soul like him perhaps, he thought, oblivious to the fact that he was being followed.
The atmosphere at Holy Trinity Catholic Church, Maitama, was tense and filled with grief as the family and close friends of the Odukoya family came out to express their condolences and say their farewells to Sola. The funeral was a closed event, seeing as Chief and Mrs. Odukoya who wanted an open-casket funeral, were not entirely keen on having strangers around their dearly departed child. The few people who were invited only managed to occupy the first few pews of the church. There was an eerie silence, that was broken only by the priest standing at the altar, reading the sermon.
One by one, Sola’s family members marched up the altar to say their final farewells to Sola. Mosun, went up first, a vision of serenity in her simple dress made with the mourning Ankara she and Bisola picked out. As she spoke, the church walls hummed with sighs and fervent Amin o responses for God’s protection in these perilous times. Her quiet strength flowed through the room and seemed to give everyone a little more ease.
Hmm.. Abiamo…, muttered one woman. Ah Oluwa o, murmured another, as she stepped down from the altar and then hugged Bisola, who was going up next, before she sat down. His mother’ gentle squeeze jerked Yinka into the present. His heart pounded furiously against his chest as Mosun pulled him into a warm embrace “Yinka, I know speaking in front of a large crowd has never been your forte, but you must, for Sola.”
“Yes mother.” He just never imagined he’d have to do it one day while overwhelmed with so many emotions. He played absently with his cufflink, twirling, clasping and unclasping it, while Bisola stood in front of their sister’s casket talking about how the world is incomplete without her “baby sister”. He chuckled inwardly at the thought of Sola as a baby – she was probably more mature than the both of them combined. Maybe not ‘mature’ per se, but she had seen more of this wicked world than they had.
His mother’s hand on his shoulder gently informed him that he was up next. Avoiding the eyes of the people gathered, he walked up the aisle to the altar and took his place at the podium. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, boring into him like they were trying to see into his very soul as he stood there, head bowed, hands in his pockets, trying to gather his thought into some semblance of a speech. It was only at that point he realized he should have probably written something down and mentally reprimanded himself for being so unprepared. Seconds passed and people started to whisper until finally, he cleared his throat and looked up at the small crowd before him. “I honestly don’t know what to say, about Sola, that hasn’t been said already.” He began. “I mean, she was a great girl. The greatest I ever knew, really…”
Sola lay sprawled on the living room carpet, legs propped up on one of the sofas, typing on her phone and laughing when Yinka barely managed to walk in. As usual, she was home alone and lost in her phone. Yinka couldn’t help but wonder who she was always chatting with that made her giggle so much and kept her completely engaged. She hardly ever wanted to go anywhere and never really wanted anything as long as she had her phone and internet. He found it a bit endearing, but also really creepy. People her age should want to do stuff other than be on the phone all day, he’d often thought to himself, or at the very least be outside with a bunch of other people whose heads where also buried in their phone screens. Extra buzzed than usual, he walked over to her and sat next to her on the floor. She acknowledged his presence with a quick “Hey” and a curt nod and then returned to her phone. “Hey yourself” he mumbled, still staring at her.
His eyes travel down the length of her body, observing, seemingly for the first time, how much more mature she’d become. Her body had lost the little-girl chubs and taken on lovely curves of a young woman, full and supple. He breathed a sigh and wondered why he’d never allowed himself fully appreciate this development before now. He leaned back on the sofa and took in her curves, admiring the smoothness of her exposed, propped up legs. His lazy, hungry gaze shifted to the little skirt that hugged her hips; her legs, slightly apart, created a shadowy path that led into the skirt; a path that promised pleasure. Fueled by his high, his hand traveled down the leg closest to him, from her ankle to the back of her knee, and it was only a matter of seconds before he could feel the blood rushing to his groin. Thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having about his sister began to flood his mind, and he made little effort to shake them off.
The knowledge of the fact that she wasn’t still a virgin, thanks to some of the conversations they’d had in the past, padded his resolve to pressure her into indulging him. He found himself giving in to the beckoning of her supple skin beneath his fingers. Grinning, he gently straddled her legs and slid his hand up her thigh to the bottom of her skirt.
Feeling her brother’s weight on her legs, Sola turned to face him, one eyebrow raised “What are you doing?”
“Babe, I’m so fucking horny right now.” He whispered, pulling her legs down and around his waist.
Sola’s body stiffened reflexively “Get off me, jor. Go and call one of your girlfriends.”
“It’ll take too long for them to get here. And I’m really horny.” He locked her legs firmly around him and started rubbing her thighs, going a bit higher up her skirt every time.
“Yinka, what the hell, I’m not playing with you! Get off me!” She started squirming, trying to get free, but her brother was too heavy “Seriously, Yinka. Stop it.”
“Man, girls wear the most erotic underwear these days. I mean, I can already feel the swell of your cli… wow.” He mumbled, rubbing against the lace of her underwear, where he knew she would bud and harden for him.
“Yinka, please stop this rubbish or I’ll report to mummy.” She said, growing very irritated.
“Look. I really need to get off. Let me just rub up against you.”
“Ehn both of us are saying the same thing. GET OFF ME NOW YINKA.” She yelled but only then remembered they were home alone.
“Don’t be an idiot, Sola.” He scowled “You know what I mean. Just help a brother out.” When Sola continued to glare at him, he sighed “Okay, just the tip. I promise I won’t even go in.”
“ARE YOU MAD YINKA? What is wrong with you? You are my brother for goodness sake.”
“All the more reason why you should help me out.” he muttered, rubbing against bare flesh now. He could hardly control himself. Lust and alcohol had overtaken reason.
“Please, Yinka, stop.” She pleaded, combined mortification and pleasure etching on her face, as tears began to run down her cheeks. He took off her already damp underwear, pushed himself up and rubbed his already engorged member over her warm, wet skin.
“See, just the tip; just like I promised.” He slurred, only moments before he plunged into her with one swift thrust.
Sola screamed and moaned at the same time.
“I loved Sola very deeply,” At this point, tears streamed freely from Yinka’s eyes and those present were hanging on to his every word. “and there’s a lot I wish I could have done differently with her. But she’s at peace now, and, even though it will be hard, we have to try to make up for the immense good that has been ripped from this world. I have to.” With that, he descended the podium. Light applause echoed around him as he returned to his seat beside his mother and he scanned the faces of some of the people. Most of them were unfamiliar, but he returned their smiles anyway. He was almost at his pew when the two pairs of eyes belonging to Inspector Mustapha and Chidera met his simultaneously; and unlike everyone else around them, they held absolutely no sympathy for the young man who had just finished speaking about his dead sister.
HOUSE ON THE ROCK
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