Sat. May 14th, 2022

Saq Nation

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The good, the bad, and the Lagos – 011

Illicit affairs are a secret but popular currency in Lagos. Much like smoking skunk and gambling.  You just know it happens everywhere. You surmise it before you actually see it. And, sometimes, when you see the perpetrators, the surprise exorcises the last shred of belief in humanity from your soul.

You think you see enough of it and it should not surprise you anymore, but there are more forms of it than there are colours.

The woman took a fancy with the guy who had come to work in a business her husband set up in high brow settlement in Lekki.

It began during his interview. She had seen the budge in his pants, and decided she could use some of it in her pastime.

She told him pointedly. He agreed without hesitation. And the first Friday in the job, they stayed back until everyone was gone and screwed like minks.

Then they went out to have drinks at Suave Bar. From the bar, she called her husband, informed him she’d be back late, and then booked a new reservation at Lagos Continental.

She was with him till midnight. He was every bit of the bill she imagined. As she was chauffeured home, she made a mental resolve that this would be how she ended every week.

Daily, she spoke about this amazing new staff who was more hands-on than anyone she’d ever worked with. She sang his praises so highly that her husband thought it’d be nice to meet him.

And meet they did.

On one of the Fridays, he dropped by unannounced and found the staff working late. He was oblivious to the…

…real motive behind the extra hours; he just went with the cover story his ears had been continually fed with.

That night he took his wife and the young man out to dinner. And then he proceeded to engage him for hours, talking about every topic that his mind touched on.

It seemed like the more they talked, the more he saw what his wife allegedly saw in him. The night ended just before midnight, and the man gave him his direct line to call him whenever he needed anything.

After that night, the young was attacked by a morality rush that crushed his excitement for screwing his boss.

Now, it felt so different. He could no longer sustain the thought without feeling a towering sense of guilt. When he tried, he could not get it up.

Again and again, she would force him – in the office, in the car, and in the hotel rooms.

Same outcome. Same flaccid penis.

Her fury blew over like an old volcano. She gave him two weeks to get back in line or she would destroy him.

But whatever happened in that chance meeting with her husband had made him a totally different man. Much as he tried to convince himself that this was a career advancing decision that should be made in his favour without his current dilemma, he could not just get himself to flip the switch back.

Two weeks passed.

She summoned him in her office one afternoon and fired him; with a candid promise he would not get a job anywhere on the Island. Then she added a quiet threat, “If you ever call my husband for anything, I will find you, and I will kill you.”

For the past seven years now, the guy has been working as a loader at a port: destroyed.

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