Saturday, March 24, 2012

A Must Read (*Chuckles): Cypridophobia – The Fear of Prostitutes

Dear readers, I’ll not place any age restriction to reading this. However, I must let you know that this piece contains strong sexual languages. Therefore, if you know you can’t cope with such, you are advised to quit straightaway. The writer will not hearken to complaints of inconveniences while reading.

I’m thinking if that first paragraph was necessary sef? After all, sexuality is inevitable in this world of man and woman. Not even this jet-age, that a 12 year old boy knows where to put it!
Warning! I am not a Christian writer. I am a Christian that writes, and most things you read from my stable are things that fringes around my socio-political/religious/cultural/romantic escapades. And those close to me should know that I’m a paragon of moral
etiquette by all standards (beating my chest), and no matter what direction you might think this piece is going to- the bottom line is still rooted in moral lessons- so I think. Why this emphasis? It’s simply to appeal for the usage of dirty words for the first time in my essays, and of course to beg your indulgence to confine your judgment within the context of this piece. Should no one later say this fEMI boy has yama sef! (I am still that pure innocent boy..*winks*).
Okay! I’m not sure if I’ve heard the song being played on radio stations but most studios along the street wouldn’t do without playing it in a day. Except you don’t step out at all, you must have heard it. I didn’t buy the cd and I will NEVER buy it, but the lines I could pick while driving past these studios are:
Meji l’oyan
Okan loko
Meji l’oyan
Okan l’oko
Okan l’oko o
Shidi oke oya dadubule…
Shut up! I sensed someone is already miming it.

In a literal way; meji l’oyan means the breasts are two. Okan loko means the penis is one. And ermm, shidi oke should mean raise your buttocks abi?

I ask if we still have a government body that regulates the content of Nigerian music?

A friend however gave a counter translation to that chorus- which if true would mean nothing serious. Yoruba words lacking pronunciation-signs sometimes could bring confusion. For instance oko= farm/stone/penis. Albeit this chorus is seen as being homophonous, juxtaposing it with what my friend explained. Meji l’oyan= you chose two.

Okan loko= you packed one. What about ‘shidi oke?’ I asked my friend. Then he accepted that his thoughts were pointless as ‘shidi oke’ won’t correlate with you chose two but packed one!

I’m bewildered at what our society has turned or turning into. The other day I saw a Primary 5 boy singing that same song. He mimed it with such accuracy that dissolved my scolding into laughter; nevertheless he didn’t escape the slaps that almost tore his eardrum. ‘Whaaaaat! You this small boy what do you know that they call oyan and oko?’

Far back when we were kids, whenever Iyemishi helped with bathing- she only called our tiny thing ‘chenbeleche.’ She made us grow in a mentality that we must always guide our chenbeleche jealously. Like when a visitor is pressing the doorbell and you aint wearing anything, Iyemishi rushes to the door and would shout at you, ‘oya go and wear your knickers jor, or you want Yetunde’s mummy to see your chenbeleche?’ We actually grew in the consciousness of how important our chenbeleche is. It’s not meant to be seen, touched by anyone!

Unarguably, we have traded our morals for ‘civilization.’ And words that are supposed to be foul are now musical lyrics topping our song charts. Amongst other things that has influenced the society; I think music has the strongest force.

That being said, let’s now go to the big story!

Sincerely, my weak point as a man is when I see a lady’s lap/thigh- it spices up sometimes an uncontrollable concupiscence. (Future wife should please note, that whenever we are alone, she should avoid wearing bikini, micro-mini skirt, bum-shots and sorts of its kind. Else she wants me to commit fornication!) I also hardly do swimming where ladies are.
Yes, my relaxation center is girls’ arena, and as long as I don’t see their thighs- no problem, nonetheless my legs won’t hesitate to move out quickly should my eyes see that which is tempting. Even those years that I rocked town, I hardly carouse with friends at ashawo joint. The way they dress gave me cypridophobia- the fear of prostitutes.
It’s going to a month now that I’d resume school, and at my lodge I share the same sitting room with Adexy- a friend whom I’ve known since undergraduate days. We did dirty things together in the past, but behold old things have passed away and all things are become new. Of course he knew that I had become a part-time born again Christian and eventually got totally saved while in school then. I even became a deacon of a student fellowship. But how will he relieve his old friend of the boredom of these lonely evenings, he might have thought when he approached me two days ago. He wouldn’t even know if I longed for the solitude.

“Ehn ehn fEMO e get one girl wey go like you o.”
“Really?” I chuckled.
“Sure na, she’s a good girl and I think she can keep your company.”
“I see.”
“Yes o. In fact the girl big well well,” he added, smiling. I think Adexy knew my love for big things. Even Obembe my lalacious becomes skeptical anytime I deny this. However to be on a safer side, she has been advised to eat more food and get fat for me!

“Adexy watin you wan make I do with this girl na?” I asked innocently.
“Just friend na,” he gave a suspicious smile.
“No problem. Tell her we’ll come see her this evening.” After all one of my hobbies is making friends, whether ‘big’ or not.

I almost forgot, but my friend didn’t. He had already called the girl that we were on our way.

So we got there. The lady opened the door and we were in. Believe me this girl is big! I also saw a friend of hers lying on her bed- they both have the same body chemistry. The friend greeted us casually but my potential friend greeted us well. She opened her arms and I intend to close it with a chaste hug, but she totally submitted her big breasts on my humble chest. It was almost electrifying.
Adexy did the introduction. He decorated me with accolades that only God know who owns them. But he did mention that I am a pastor (I was glad with that).
Oh my my.. The girl got more interested especially when I started to talk in my borrowed American accent. The spacious room was a typical campus babe’s; tasteful gadget, tang of room fresheners, and the underlay rug had my ankle sunk in it. Varieties of teddy bears were sighted at every corners of the room. She did introduce me to those lifeless bears.

A few minutes later, Adexy pretended to have received a call, or perhaps he actually did. Then, he told me he had to quickly catch someone and that he would be back shortly.

For the sake of this piece, let my potential friend be Chick1 and her friend take Chick2. So I was left alone with Chick1 and Chick2!

Chick1 asked if she should cook for me. And believe me one of the lessons I failed to take from Iyemishi is how to decline such request. Even Obembe my lalacious had warned me several times not to eat at another woman’s house let alone a strange girl, but really I’m actually I mean seriously working on that. Meanwhile, my intestines were murmuring this time. It might be hunger, maybe slight one though.

Hurriedly, Chick1 hopped into her kitchen and when she had put something on fire she came back. This time I had become quite busy with kari-ka-talk my bb. I was participating in a tweet-meeting with Mallam Nasir El-Rufai, it was Q & A tweets at him. I was sitting calmly at one edge of the mattress, leaning my back against the wall.
“fEMI it’s like you are busy ba?” Chick1 asked, smiling.
“Kind of my dear. In a tweet-meeting actually,” I said and there were traces of consternation even in my smiles.

Chick2 whose body was an arm-length distance from my reach got up and sat by the other edge of the mattress where Chick1 was.
“Oya let’s continue our gist jor,” Chick2 patted chick one on her shoulder.
“Oh you mean that stupid lecturer?”
“Yes, did he later fuck you?”
“Hmm, I have to give him o. In fact we did it in his car last night. The stupid man can’t even take me to a hotel.”
“Hahahaha, maybe e no get money na?”
“No mind the yeye guy at least he sha get mark. He don tell me say make I no worry.”
“Ehn ehn how about that Alhaji na?” Chick1 asked.
“Babe that Alhaji craze o”
“Tell me something,” Chick1 smiled.
“Hmm, he fuck me fuck me sote he nearly comot my toto sef.”
“Wow!” Chick1 exclaimed.
“Buh ma no lie you the man get my money o.”
Phew! My ears had heard enough! But I think Adexy told these girls that I am a pastor or is it that saying these things doesn’t really mean a thing to them? I was almost letting out my anger but Chick1 frequently turn at me to say “fEMI please your food will soon be ready.” I had expected it would be an apology for the raw words said into my hearing.

I maintained my calmness and acted like nothing was wrong. I was served food and while I was eating Chick2 took an excuse to take her leave. I was left alone with Chick1.
It was as if the thorns blocking my eyes had been removed. I began to see clearly when Chick1 crawled over to my side. The chemise cord was falling off her shoulders that I could see the bra-less big breasts. I was indifferent. My humble eyes journeyed down on her body, it was then I saw that the short gown had barely covered her large buttocks talk-less of the succulent thighs. I wished this had remained a dystopia. Meanwhile, I was expecting Mallam Nasir to have answered my questions, but he wouldn’t. It was obvious that I had asked illogical questions. The stability state of your mind/brain is a function of what you see/hear. Mallam doesn’t take long to answer my question.

“fEMI,” Chick1 called my name in an appealing tone, such that begged for sex. Our eyes were four but I was already in Paris.

“Yes,” I answered coolly, and I looked at the door if it was opened or closed. For me to run away or to ride with Chik1 behind closed doors? Figure that out yourself!
She continued what she wanted to say, and I sensed she was in sobriety.
“fEMI you see I don’t like the way I’m living my life.”
“Okay?” I nodded for her to continue but my gaze was still at the door.
“This year I told God that I will never sleep with a man to get money but I don’t seem to understand, it’s not just coming the way I want it.”
“My dear, what’s happening?” I barely looked into her face.
Then she narrated all that had happened to her and before I knew it the teddy bear she was holding was soaked with her tears.

Chick1 used to be a church girl from a devoted Christian home in Kaduna. She got into the university as a teenager and she began to see the other ‘sweet’ part of life. She first got use to seeing secular musical videos where she saw naked girls dancing. This gradually catalyzed her libidinous sense. She became a habitué of night clubs and was deflowered at a club. She had had unprotected sex with different guys that she couldn’t identify the father of the baby she had years ago. One would have thought Chick1 had learnt her lessons in the ordeal she went through during pregnancy especially when her parents abandoned her. But it was rather a paradox, that the stigmatization suffered from the family only stole her morals. She now does sex on the go.

“Hmm,” I sighed and patted her on the back. I still managed not to look at her thighs. I wondered if she wasn’t bordered about her half-nakedness even when she had begun to see me as a man of God.
I shared some words of encouragement and trust me I got her smiling. It was almost getting dark so I got up to take my leave. But before then, she begged me to promise her a regular check on her. Well, I did.

I began to think again about what has gone wrong in our society. In those days it was a serious trouble if a lady wasn’t met as a virgin by her husband. A lady dare not trade her virginity for whatsoever then. Yet, I wouldn’t really blame our present society because then, I doubt if they celebrated songs like ‘meji l’oyan, okan loko.’ These little things have their way of influencing our society negatively.

But we must always remember to guide our hearts with all diligence, for there comes the issues of life!
But then, what if Adexy hadn’t say that I’m a pastor- though I can’t really fathom his motives?
However, little did Chick1 know how weakened I had become seeing her thighs. But it’s gonna be a painstaking task for me to overcome should she dress such way this evening that I had promise to visit her again. Lest a preacher might be seen as the lecher!

And mind you, don’t ask for a sequel to this note!



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