“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all” – Helen Keller
Africans have a way of communicating with the supernatural powers. Most of us perform rituals before or after events such as weddings and funerals. I remember when my grandmother died we had to drink donkey urine and perform a ritual to cleanse the house. I can’t say I was shocked when Una said we should get cleansed because Ifechi took his last breath right in front of us. When the door opened I was greeted by a smell that got me high on the spot. I heard a voice of a woman in that darkness. I couldn’t see her but I could tell she was right in front of us by her voice. She was speaking in a language I didn’t understand. It was like someone praying in tongues. It went on for over 10 minutes. I stood there motionless not knowing what to do or say. I tried to reach for Una but my hand hit blanks.
The lights went on. Una was not there. It was just me and a black chicken in the room. The chicken looked at me straight in the eyes. For some reason I was expecting the chicken to speak like human beings. The thought got the blood in my head boiling. I think I lost my consciousness right there because I don’t remember anything that happened afterwards. When I regained my consciousness Una was standing right next to me. After few minutes of confusion and mental logjam, I remembered where I was. Una told me we were done with the ritual. I asked him what really happened and he told me I should not worry about details. He promised that I would not have any nightmares about Ifechi after the ritual. He held my hand and led me to the car. I don’t know what was happening with me but I felt like I was developing feelings for Una.
“Listen babe, I think you should consider moving out of Braamfontein. That place is not good for you. I will get you an apartment somewhere in the North. I can’t have a girlfriend that shares accommodation with kids when I have millions. What do you think?” Una asked. I told him there was no need for me to move out of Braam because I was enjoying it. I thanked him for the offer but rejected it. I was surprisingly falling for him but was not ready to move in at a place organised by him. It was going to be easy for him to control me if I stayed there. I chose to remain at my flat for in case things went South between us. Men use material possessions to control women. They set a trap for you, and once you are captured it’s not easy for you to get out. Most women are stuck in fancy townhouses they don’t enjoy because they can’t move back to kasi. I didn’t want to be one of those women. There is nothing fancy about Braamfontein but at least I had my freedom.
Luckily he didn’t force me to take his offer. He asked if he could take care of my expenses and I agreed. Unlike South African men, Naija boys are not stingy. They still believe a woman should not spend her own money on herself. They believe a man must take care of his woman. That is one of the reasons South African women love them. Have you ever seen beautiful women attacking Nigerian men during xenophobic attacks? Never!!! They know where their bread is buttered. My thoughts went back to the sangoma. I asked Una if the sangoma gave me something to make me love him. He laughed and told me I was crazy. He dropped me at my place and left. I didn’t have much to do, so I just slept. Una called me around 23h00. He told me to quickly come downstairs. I put on my gown and headed downstairs. He handed me a bag and told me to keep it at my place until further notice.
I took the bag and left without asking further questions. When I got to my place and opened the bag and checked what was inside. The bag was full of money. I got wet by just looking at it. In case you are wondering why women love guys with money, ke orgasm. Looking at Madiba’s picture on the money can make a woman reach orgasm nje. I didn’t understand why someone who didn’t know me well would trust me with that heavy bag of money . The thought of taking the money and disappearing crossed my mind. The money was enough for me to go to Mozambique and live comfortably. I crushed the thought very fast. Drug dealers have eyes everywhere. They have a better intelligence network than most police forces in Africa. I slept with the bag of money on my bed. All my dreams were Sandtonised that night. Una called around 10am the following morning. He told me to bath and bring the bag downstairs. I took a quick bath and wore jeans and a yellow T-shirt I bought at Legit. Una was talking on the phone when I got in the car. We drove to Bedfordview, east of Johannesburg. The house we visited was huge. The entrances were manned by MIB (Men in Black). One of them led us to some room upstairs. Three big white men with tattoos all over their arms appeared.
“Finally, this is the kind of a girl we are looking for, not the spinach you brought the other day. Is the price still the same?”