Lemuel handled his Lenovo C68.
He watched Beatrice darting to and across their one roomed apartment, fixing the victuals for dinner. He noted her detailed scrutiny of each plate for neatness, the correct sizing of the meal of rice which was just sufficient for the needs of his rumen microbes, the correct placement of both plates of rice and stew on the tray, and the final twitch of her eyelids, as well as the escape of that piece of perfection God called dentition, on her mouth, as she silently communicated to him what he was about to enjoy, as she turned to bring the food to him at the far end of the room.
But he was tired of her. And it killed him.
It was that thing which he could not place a finger on, that had made her last with him these six months. Beatrice was everything but bitter. None of the other girls could touch her character in aeons. From Bimpe, to Sheena-the whole fifteen of them on the list-she stood tall. But that was as far as it went, sorrowfully too.
He would do it. He already had it conceived in his mind. Tonight.
A smart thumb commanded the Lenovo, and in seconds, he was on to his bosom friend Daniel.
‘I will send you a text. Do as I say, immediately. Please.’
An hour and a bout later, they both lay on their side, speaking lovelorn tongues in stares.
‘Baby, could you get me some recharge card, please? You can take my phone along so you can load it.’
‘Alright honey.’
As soon as Beatrice pushed the door shut, Lemuel handled a little Nokia phone. It shot to his ear immediately.
‘Its on.’
Like a conscientious secretary in a large conglomerate, Beatrice was staring at both the Lenovo and the recharge voucher with equanimity, her fingers doing what it looked like they were made for. She was about to punch in the last digit with the hash button when its sudden vibration almost startled her.
‘Would you be my lover? Yes, no, Yes, No, Yes, No Yes……’ Banky Wellington’s smoothness of a voice accompanied the buzz as the phone vibrated in her hand. She actually enjoyed the rhythm, thinking what a music buff Lemuel was. Until it stopped.
It was a text message. One Pastor Ezekiel.
Ordinarily, she wasn’t the type to snoop on people, more so, someone she loved, but the header of the text ran in slow progression on the top corner of the phone, and what she saw was a match stick. She was the matchbox, and curiosity came aflame.
‘You are with the wrong girl, Lemuel. I was praying for your family when I saw you with a fair complexioned, beautiful lady. That lady is from the marine world and was sent on a mission to secure your soul. Your God given wife is not in the country at present, but you will locate her. But please, for your safety sake, cut off from this lady immediately. She is evil and will destroy you………….’
With faint legs and dizzy head, she wondered how she made it to Lemuel’s apartment, dropped the phone, picked her bag, giving almost polite replies to Lemuel’s questions about her sudden change of countenance and why she needed to leave immediately, hopped on a waiting bike and got received into the dark outside night.
Lemuel was beside himself with joy as he bumped into Daniel at Feelings.
‘You son of God, receive niceness!!’’
