My Rich Nigerian Boo – Chapter 9

“We are the people we have been waiting for” – Thapelo Mangoele

 

I always hear that if you want good things in life you must be willing to take risks. I agree but some risks are just too extreme to take. We live in a very but it didn’t stop me from trusting him. I felt like Ifechi somehow hypnotised me. Those Nigerian men in traditional attire looked creepy. My legs froze and I stopped walking. “You look uncomfortable young lady? What is wrong,” he asked casually. I think he didn’t finish what he wanted to say because my face changed when he said something about him wanted to be the first to do something. “I I I I I I thought I would find Ifechi here? He told me I would find him here and by the look of things he is not here. I only see creepy looking men here. Am I at the right place? I think the driver dropped me at the wrong address,” I said with a worry written all over my face. I try to turn back and head to the door but he stopped me. I didn’t like how he grabbed my arm. Some men are very disrespectful when coming to treating young women, especially black women. “Look here young lady, I know you hear many stories about Nigerians but not all of us are like that. We are businessmen and our businesses are legit. We do not sell drugs. We do not sell girls. Make yourself comfortable. Your boyfriend is upstairs busy on an international call with his wife,” he said. Of all the things he said it was the last part that got engraved on my eardrum. As far as I was concerned Ifechi was not married. I didn’t understand when that Nigerian told me Ifechi was busy on a call with his wife. He didn’t have a ring on his finger. Maybe it’s true that many Nigerians in South Africa left their wives back in Nigeria.

 

 

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Ifechi appeared from upstairs as I was busy digesting the endless thoughts in my head. He smiled and told me I looked gorgeous. The guy who welcomed me said “emi ko fe orebirin re. Orebirin re ko bowo fun wa.” I knew he used his native language because he didn’t want me to understand the message he was conveying to Ifechi. For all I knew they were planning to kill me. I asked Ifechi what the guy said and he told me it was not something I should worry about. He took me to the other side of the house. There was a stretch tent and about 10 tables. There were 12 beautiful girls and one gay looking male. Ifechi asked me to introduce myself to my new friends. I told him I was not friends with strangers. He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dark side of the yard. “Look here Palesa, I am a Nigerian man and I will not allow a woman to disrespect me in front of people. If that is how you treat your Zulu boyfriends do it there with them, not here. When I say jump you must fly. Are we clear?” I apologised and promised to behave. It was just a fake apology. I didn’t want him to kill me like he killed that guy in Kempton Park. And again, I didn’t want to make him angry before milking him off the millions I saw in his account. Sometimes a girl must play her game well to achieve her goals. We walked back to join other girls. I wore the best smile ever. I introduced myself and they did the same. They were all Wits, UJ and TUT students. Ifechi left me in the company of girls and went to re-join the guys. At first I didn’t feel comfortable but the minute the girls started gossiping I loosened up. Nothing strengthens friendship than a good gossip.

 

 

The girls started talked about how those Nigerian guys gave them money and took them to baecations all over the world. One of them told us that her Nigerian boyfriend bought her a house in Midrand after she gave birth to their first born. Another girl boasted that her man took her to USA or Europe every quarter. All their stories made me smile and look forward to spending Ifechi’s money. They asked me what my man did for me and I told them about the R10 000 he gave me to buy a dress. They asked me if I was serious and when I said yes they started laughing. I asked if I said something funny and one of them said “R10 000? Your man doesn’t respect you baby girl. I know Ifechi very well, he is a dollar millionaire. He was dating my friend and used to give her hundred thousands of rands. He even bought her a Range Rover. She cheated on him last year and the Range Rover killed her in a terrible accident. Girl, your legs is a pin number. Use them to open his bank accounts”. That was the most savegest advice I received from a girl. The other girls agreed with her. We had supper and after that booze started flowing. One girl asked if I wanted Drostdy Hof and I gave her a sharp look. There were bottles of Dom Perignon P2, Louis Roeder Cristal and Billecart Salmon Brut Blanc on the tables for the girls. Guys were having Glenbrynth and Blair Athol. I secretly Googled prices of the booze on the tables and almost fainted when I saw prices. The Dj only started playing music after 11pm. When he played Fia by Davido I lost my morals. Luckily the other girls were not uptight. We made the dance floor look small. I heard one of the Nigerian guys telling Ifechi that I was the most beautiful girls of all South African girls Ifechi dated. Ifechi asked to see me in private. We headed to one of the many bedrooms upstairs. “Tell me, besides your punani what else can you do for me to show you love me?” Ifechi asked. I didn’t understand where he was going with his question so I told him I was willing to do whatever he wanted. He nodded and smiled. He showed me a red bag on the other side of the bed and asked me to open it.

 

I opened it and saw…….

 

THE END

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