THE SIN OF GREED. (1)
Flesh of My Flesh
First of all… Introduction.
(…Go down Low…)
Hi. My name is Jerry. My friends call me Jerry. My ‘colleagues’ call me Jerry. My wife calls me ‘You-stupid-son-of-a-bitch’.
I take offence when people insult my mother like that. I’d rather they direct their jabs at me. But my wife… well, that bit of the story comes later.
Back to the introduction. As far back as I remember, I’ve been the kind of guy that never allows his roots determine his path. I was born into a third world type family in Ajegunle with thirteen other siblings struggling to find some sort of life direction. It didn’t help that I was the eighth of the bunch. So I had little or nothing to expect in terms of parental hand-me-downs. Matter of fact, the only things we got from our parent’s hands were the slaps that rained down on us and guided us to adulthood. My folks taught us that a watercane is actually one of the most ‘handy’ destiny-shapers God blessed mankind with.
At nine years of age, I made a firm decision to live a better life than my parents did no matter the cost. I mean, experiencing the multi-faceted and omnipotent nature of beans wasn’t my plan for existing. You know how you eat akara in the morning, beans and palm oil for late lunch and then moi-moi for breakfast the next day? Well, that was our diet on special occasions. Most days, it was akara, all day, every day.
Papa always said we should be content and cut our cloths according to our size. That didn’t make sense to me, because most of the clothes I had were ones worn by my elder ones and cutting them to my size didn’t help much. I just looked like a lost Arabian in Africa. Struggle had become a way of life for us and the man asked us to be content? When I am not the first page of a textbook? No way. I didn’t plan to stay struggling.
I made some ‘area’ friends and they introduced me to ‘betting’. It was an easy way to make money, they said “Just drop 50 card and bet ontop this match, you fit win big.” Man it worked! I never knew I had the gift/fruit of the spirit called prophecy until then; I was only familiar with ‘longsuffering.’ I‘d start with N200 and win up to N5000 in a week. Some particularly good weeks, I made N14000.
What is it they say about pringles and virginity? ‘Once you pop you can’t stop’? Same thing with making money, brethren. The betting virus became full blown gambling syndrome. Long-throat set in and from that point, I was hooked.
And then there was Seggy…
Twenty-two years down the line of my life, I met this girl named Seggy. God! She was stunning. And even though she looked so skinny that if strong breeze blew she would be gone with the wind, there was something about her. I mean, if she lost any more weight, she would have disappeared. In fact, she was almost 2D… but she radiated so much innocence, charm and warmth that I decided to focus on her inner beauty because that’s what really matters.
I had managed to stockpile a decent sum of money from gambling but with the rising prices of food, clothes and eVen Diesel, the money was not coming Fast and Furious enough. I needed more. Much more. Plus, I had a girlfriend to cater to now and the price of woman na im bad pass. So I invested in a laptop and Internet connection. With Yahoo Messenger, I had all I needed for this new business venture. I started spending time in chat rooms, meeting (oyibo) singles and professing love for various usernames.
Mozilla Crown (my guy from Shitta) had shown me the ropes so in no time, I had gotten Denise Tymoschuck, Gloria Hayes, Mary Dominic and Ellie Sanders to fall in love with me. They had all even made plans to move to Nigeria permanently. As a caring boyfriend, I helped them “secure accommodation and all” with the money they were sending, well up until I decided I had enough saved. It wasn’t fraud, it was mutual love expressed. My bank account grew immensely and I opened others because, well… storage space.
Seggy never knew about all this but she did ask when we started planning the wedding. Oh yes, she had been gaining weight and was big enough to fit into wife material now. I wasn’t sure if it was all the ‘pumping’ I was doing at night or her new habit of always eating extra pieces of meat and wanting extra cake whenever we went out. Anyway, getting married made me realize I needed to expand beyond the “Yahoo” life as Seggy would get suspicious and I needed to make more money. Besides, Seggy started nagging me about my laptop addiction and how I paid her no attention. I don’t understand the attention she wanted me to pay for again after I had made sure I paid for everything she needed including the extra chicken. She complained that I was chasing money and ignoring her. But as I watched her aggressive transition from lepa to orobo and saw her switch clubs from #flatfam to #fitfam and then to #fatfam, I saw my money working so what was she really saying?
Money must be multiplied so I got some boys under me and showed them the tricks of the trade; Just my little way of giving back to society. I got them laptops and opened their eyes to the wonders of internet and lonely oyibo women. I changed my business title to “Consultant” and made my boys remit 60% of their income to me. I didn’t care how they made it.
But man, they really made it.
And then the Miracle happened. Seggy stopped complaining.
I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I was making so much more money that made her mellow or maybe she was touched by a spirit, but my wife realised that nagging wasn’t leading her anywhere and somehow discovered her inner Nigerian spirit. Previously, I had been giving her N200,000 for the weekly upkeep of the house, we had a talk one night and she requested I increase it. Looking at her in all her new Orobo glory, demanding more money, I felt like GEJ at a meeting of the FEC; clueless but my hands were tied. I gave her what she wanted. I mean, the money was there so why not? Seggy got herself a N400,000 weekly allowance and I got myself some peace of mind and a daughter.
Nicole was born and she was the cutest thing ever; with rosy cheeks and bulgy almond eyes. She brought me so much joy and pride. Nicole’s arrival coincided with my business expansion as I diversified into financial services. When money needed to be transferred across borders with discretion, my various bank accounts became available. I served politicians and high ranking government officials with such loyalty. I’m not even mad that the nation didn’t honor me for my service; I just wanted the percentage I got off each amount that passed through my bank accounts.
Those percentages could get you drunk just by looking at the values.
Some call it Money Laundering, I call it National Service.
Have you ever seen that movie Wall Street? Gordon Gecko ain’t ever lie. Greed is good. I was rolling in more money than my father could have ever dreamed of.
Soon, Seggy demanded another FEC meeting and her weekly allocation tripled. I didn’t care really, I just wanted to keep making more.
But things don’t always go the way we plan. I rendered my services to a former president’s son but I didn’t know the olodo was under investigation. He mentioned my name as his courier and before I knew it, the EFCC had frozen all my accounts, seized my passports and reduced me to nearly nothing. Just like that, everything was gone. That was when I knew this life was just a plate of uncooked yam and sawdust soup.
You won’t believe it but Seggy left me, taking Nicole with her. TO. ANOTHER. MAN’S. HOUSE. I even know the bastard – Ogbonna . He used to be one of my Yahoo boys o! I hear they are in love and have been for a while but I don’t even know what that nonsense means. How can my daughter be raised by another man? My wife: the flesh of my flesh and the bone of my bone in the arms of another man? Just as people had begun to say we had started looking like each other? I mean, she was becoming my mirror image in feminine form and now this? How could she?…The gods must be crazy!
So this what it’s like to be Bruno Mars?
My pride, my ego, my needs, and my greedy ways
Na im make sweet , strong woman like you waka comot my life
Now I no go ever, ever see chance to clean dis yamayama wey I make, ohh…
And e dey pain me every time wey I close my eye
I sit here wondering why I let the thirst for money shape my life. Why did I ignore the things that matter and chase after what is fleeting? Maybe Papa was right. How is it that we don’t realize what we have till it’s gone? What harm I must have caused Seggy all these years! God! I drove her into the arms of another man because of my greed and attitude. Now I’ve lost it all and I can’t stop these tears. My Nicole, her eyes full of life and promise, is she going to call someone else “daddy?”
Guys, wait… Seggy is calling me?
“You-stupid-son-of-a-bitch. Aren’t you going to consider Oil bunkering or do you expect me to spell it out for you? Ogbonna’s money won’t sustain me and your daughter forever you know…”
Latest posts by Guest (see all)
- When Trying To Get Laid Goes Horribly Wrong… - October 25, 2016
- #Together4ALimb By StanbicIBTC Is Moving Children Without Limbs Forward - September 22, 2016
- Diary Of A Young Nigerian - July 30, 2016