An Ace Up My Cuff 5
Two can play, is a saying that kept playing on in my mind. No guy will cheat me and get away with it.
I did some investigative journalism and a few weeks later , I was kneeling very coyly in front of Ibrahim’s father. I was dressed in a shapeless, full length gown( specially bought for the occasion) plus a hijab, both in dark brown colours. With the Muslim praying beads, clasped firmly in my hands, I had to admit to myself that I looked nothing like myself! The transformation was total. No make up, no perfume. I was auditioning for the role of a wife, and I was determined to look the part.
I explained to the old man that I was Ibrahim's fiancée, that he had promised me marriage on the conditionality of pregnancy. I was pregnant and he had refused both me and the baby. I lied smoothly that I had even agreed to change from my religion to Islam and I had started attending Jumat! Hehehe. I was amazed at my performance that sunny afternoon. Honestly ,I would have won an Oscar! Anyways, Ibrahim’s father was fired up. He was irate
‘ You mean he told you to get rid of the baby? My first grandchild?!’
I replied yes, very demurely. I was on my knees throughout my award winning performance!. I made sure I stared more at the ground than at his face, a picture of piety.
Surreptiously, I applied a little of the Robb ointment, I carried within my flowing robes, unto my eyelids and the tears flowed freely of their own accord .I had thought about it and felt the tears would further convince Ibrahim’s father that I was the gravely injured party. To my delight, this further infuriated the old man
He told me he would get back to me and in my presence called Ibrahim in phone and ordered him to come see him, same day.I smiled to myself. I had given the old man a big pack containing the biggest tin of Milo, Nido, four packs of St Louis sugar( I had learnt he loved a lot of sugar in his beverage), half a dozen Lipton tea packets, and somewhere in between the Milo and Nido tins, I had dropped an envelope enclosing twenty k, minty notes. I expected a rich return on my ‘investments', soonest.
As soon as I got into my car, I couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear.
To be continued.
I did some investigative journalism and a few weeks later , I was kneeling very coyly in front of Ibrahim’s father. I was dressed in a shapeless, full length gown( specially bought for the occasion) plus a hijab, both in dark brown colours. With the Muslim praying beads, clasped firmly in my hands, I had to admit to myself that I looked nothing like myself! The transformation was total. No make up, no perfume. I was auditioning for the role of a wife, and I was determined to look the part.
I explained to the old man that I was Ibrahim's fiancée, that he had promised me marriage on the conditionality of pregnancy. I was pregnant and he had refused both me and the baby. I lied smoothly that I had even agreed to change from my religion to Islam and I had started attending Jumat! Hehehe. I was amazed at my performance that sunny afternoon. Honestly ,I would have won an Oscar! Anyways, Ibrahim’s father was fired up. He was irate
‘ You mean he told you to get rid of the baby? My first grandchild?!’
I replied yes, very demurely. I was on my knees throughout my award winning performance!. I made sure I stared more at the ground than at his face, a picture of piety.
Surreptiously, I applied a little of the Robb ointment, I carried within my flowing robes, unto my eyelids and the tears flowed freely of their own accord .I had thought about it and felt the tears would further convince Ibrahim’s father that I was the gravely injured party. To my delight, this further infuriated the old man
He told me he would get back to me and in my presence called Ibrahim in phone and ordered him to come see him, same day.I smiled to myself. I had given the old man a big pack containing the biggest tin of Milo, Nido, four packs of St Louis sugar( I had learnt he loved a lot of sugar in his beverage), half a dozen Lipton tea packets, and somewhere in between the Milo and Nido tins, I had dropped an envelope enclosing twenty k, minty notes. I expected a rich return on my ‘investments', soonest.
As soon as I got into my car, I couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear.
To be continued.
Wasere..... waiting for the conclusion
ReplyDeleteScamming a prospective father-in-law....
ReplyDeleteGood! Gold diggers would stop at nothing to get at what they want.
ReplyDeleteWow this is beautifully woven
ReplyDeleteWell put up, waiting for the concluding part.
ReplyDeleteI'm already hooked on the story..Waiting for Season 2
ReplyDeleteNice story line. So interesting I had to leave everything aside. Can't wait to read up the remaining parts. Kudos dear
ReplyDeleteThis is what we call "Doing yourself by yourself"......Am still signed on and glued to this story no going back .......hehehehehehe
ReplyDeleteOmaigosh! Bad ass babe
ReplyDelete