SHORT STORIES

THE FIRST TIME I DID IT

After she had calmed down, we went to the bank together because I had to pay my acceptance fee. While I was on the queue, Omaede went outside to get recharge voucher for her phone. I didn’t mind because I had noticed a pretty girl on the queue, and I figured that if she is on the acceptance fee queue, then we must be heading for the same school. In the course of filling out my teller, I initiated a chat with her. I was right! We were indeed heading for the same school. So I got her name, and phone number.

As I stepped out of the bank’s metal detector, I heard series of gunshots. People ran helter-skelter, and I joined them. If the gunshots were from armed robbers, then going back inside the bank wasn’t a safe choice. I dove behind the public toilet by the wall, only to collide with the bank’s uniformed security man already hiding there. Squeezing into this tight space wasn’t easy but I had no choice. The blaring of the police sirens were followed by rounds of sporadic shooting. The crossfire went on for about five minutes, then the sounds faded. When everything had calmed down, I got out of my hiding place laughing at the security man scrambling behind me. I called Omaede but she didn’t pick up. I knew she must be annoyed with me for leaving her alone. I called her again and she still didn’t pick up. I knew Omaede could be very stubborn sometimes. As I walked down the road past the recharge voucher vendor, I saw Omaede’s bag on the ground. Imagine Omaede ran for safety and left her bag behind. No wonder she didn’t pick my call. I picked up her bag, and asked the sales woman if she saw the girl that owns the bag. The woman screamed and broke into sobs “Yepa… Omolomo!“, placing both hands on her head. Where I come from, this gesture is a terrible sign. I didn’t have to wait for her to answer me. Two men carried Omaede’s body from the ground and placed her on the bench by the bus stop as people started gathering. There was a big red mess around her stomach where the bullet had gone in, and her head hung to the side. I rushed to her side pulling her to myself. “Somebody please help me!” I shouted. I sat on the ground, with Omaede on my chest. With every drop of blood she was losing, her life was bleeding out of her and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The warm flesh that had turned me on a few hours ago, was now cold.

Three days ago, a stray bullet fatally hit Omaede while the police chased down a gang of armed robbers in broad daylight. She was buried today, and I didn’t attend the burial. I am a psychological wreck. I haven’t tasted anything for the past three days, and sleeping has been very difficult. Mother has been very worried and she is sitting beside me on the bed in my room. “Oko mi, jo o. Jo nitori Oloun, jeun. Mo f’ Oloun Oba be e. Wo, ti e je die, Ko fi kan enu“. I was  an emotional whirlwind. Grief, love, hate, anger, vengeance, and regret all racing through my seventeen -year old mind. This was too much for me to bear. I broke into tears again for the upteenth time that day. “Why must she die a virgin?” I mumbled. I didn’t know I said it out loud until my confused mother asked, “What do you mean? How did you know she died a virgin?” On a different day, I would have been scared of my mother finding out about what happened between me and Omaede the day she died, but grief has a way of making you careless about such things. I told her everything that happened that day, and I watched my mother’s face undergo a transformation from grief to disbelief, to shock, and to anger. I can imagine what must have been going through her mind, but I really did not care. I knew she would never see me as that innocent son of hers again. I kept thinking, if we had stayed back and had sex together then we wouldn’t have been anywhere near the bank at that time, and Omaede wouldn’t have been hit by a stray bullet. Omaede would still be alive.

The loss of a loved one has a weird way of affecting the mind and the memory. It is funny how I start to refer to things in respect to Omaede. Like when I hear a song now, my mind goes like  “the song Omaede loved dancing to”; or I see a nice blue scarf, and my mind goes “the colour Omaede liked wearing on weekends”.

For those of you that are wondering why I called this the first time I did it, I have this for you: Where I come from, if a woman gives birth to a set of twins and one dies at birth, you don’t question the woman if she tells you that the dead baby travelled to America.

Dedicated to Adeola Alao (1985-2009).

For the love you sought, and the love you gave.

Discussion

36 thoughts on “THE FIRST TIME I DID IT

  1. One of the most sensual articles I’ve read in recent times but still carries a lot of character. I also like the fact that some of your articles tell us a little bit about you. That proverb at the end was hilarious. Well done

    Posted by thisisEseosa | May 31, 2012, 9:28 pm
  2. Very deep. I saw ur twitter post on facebook, i searched for you on twitter, i saw comments about your blog, i sought the link, and here i am :- Through with reading. I loved this. Very Deep. RIP to your friend. But, is this fiction or non-fiction?

    Posted by @StraitTwistedMe | May 31, 2012, 9:54 pm
  3. Probably the most brutally honest posts I’ve ever read.

    Posted by Jerome | May 31, 2012, 9:57 pm
  4. what a shock!!!
    how many of “us” are in this fiction…
    this piece though very sensual bears so much on the search for innocence. love it same

    Posted by wetenedev | June 1, 2012, 2:58 am
  5. Finally the share button is here……..i can use it. Great work from my boss.

    Posted by waleflame | June 1, 2012, 8:43 pm
  6. Ohhh. What a touching story.

    Posted by Abu Sidiq | June 1, 2012, 9:10 pm
  7. A very touching story. Ayomidotun, is this for real?

    Posted by Nike | June 1, 2012, 9:45 pm
  8. So touching!a lovely piece too.
    Kudos bro.

    Posted by duchesstemi | June 2, 2012, 12:30 am
  9. Sensual as it may seem, I particularly love the sincerity in it.

    Posted by oreoluwade | June 2, 2012, 4:16 am
  10. I believe this is fiction given that it was dedicated to someone other than Omaede. Still, it touched me so deeply that I am inclined to say RIP to both Adeola and Omaede.

    Great work, Ayomidotun…

    Posted by Dupe | June 2, 2012, 7:06 am
  11. Great story, but you really do need to get your tenses and words right. e.g the part of the story where she ‘unhooks her bra’, you had been using past tense before so why the sudden switch? Also, it is the ‘loss’ and not ‘lost’ of a loved one.

    Posted by Aibeefash | June 2, 2012, 7:38 am
  12. Awwwww………ℓ̊ love d honesty it portrays……and a nice story too!

    Posted by Detola | June 2, 2012, 3:05 pm
  13. The story is so touching,kudos to you

    Posted by Ekundare Jesuloluwa | June 3, 2012, 9:08 am
  14. good piece… AY, your tone is good, i knew it you will definitely pull a pen. You Know what, polish up and you are there. Kudos

    Posted by ladisowunmi | June 3, 2012, 10:53 pm
  15. Awwwwww… This is awesome… Was hooked till the very end.. Funniest part was.. “why must she die a virgin”… Big lol! Something I joke about not wanting to go to heaven a virgin.. Hopefully I should get married before Jesus comes… Hehe.
    Lovely piece…

    Posted by Funto | June 6, 2012, 8:57 pm
  16. Adeola Alao,hmnnn,may her soul rest in peace and i pray 4 God’s strenght 4 d guy may God help him 2 overcome it.

    Posted by Amy | June 6, 2012, 9:25 pm
  17. Uh………. definitely fiction.

    Posted by akinayomipo | June 7, 2012, 9:33 pm
  18. Fiction or non-fiction or both….hmmm, i can bearly decide!!! Takes me back to wen i was 17!!! Nuff said! LOL! deepest delicious ish i’ve read in a looooong time!!! loved every single bit of it!!!! E ku ise boku-boku!!! Welldone Bruv!!!xx
    R.I.P Omaede

    Posted by Wome Uyeye | June 12, 2012, 8:04 pm
  19. This is remarkable. The emotional transition that trailed the story gave it the status of a profound piece. Great thinking-if the beginning was actually a fiction.

    Posted by onedemola | June 14, 2012, 12:57 pm
  20. A sensual and captivating story. I was glued to my phone screen the whole time. You are a great story teller.

    Posted by olalekan olayemi | June 15, 2012, 7:39 am
  21. Searching for this for some time now… touching!!!

    Posted by Garmin | June 16, 2012, 7:14 am
  22. Wow! Dotun, this is superb. I was glued to the end. Keep it up dear.

    Posted by Shike Ayinde | June 18, 2012, 1:35 pm
  23. Dis story is emotional n touching! May her soul rest in eternal glory.

    Posted by Abiodun seun | June 19, 2012, 7:39 pm
  24. Honest piece.. Very very blunt.. God bless ur brain

    Posted by florence opeyemi fasetan | June 21, 2012, 5:42 pm
  25. Brilliant post…non-fiction or fiction

    Posted by Shady Nerd's Corner | June 21, 2012, 8:37 pm
  26. I like it. Very moving story. The only line i felt that was out of place was “why must she die a virgin?” that can’t be the most important thing on a grieving person’s mind.

    Didn’t stop the story from being nice though. (Y)

    Posted by itsifeoma | June 22, 2012, 9:00 am
  27. good story and well written and organized too.very real. hard to tell if fiction or non fiction though. RIP Adeola (who is Omaede in the story if Im right )

    Posted by akorinogo | June 26, 2012, 6:56 am
  28. Your creativity and variety with each set just, well, make me happy. You kick butt.

    Posted by Stefan Kahalehoe | June 26, 2012, 9:25 am
  29. Bro u r a beast….. Very intersting…. Keep it up

    Posted by apata | July 1, 2012, 2:55 pm
  30. Fiction made real. Touching and stunning

    Posted by Durodolu John Adewale | July 6, 2012, 8:19 am
  31. That was probably the realest, honest sensual story i’ve read recently. Your honesty in recounting those experiences hit me tho.
    *Why would she die a virgin?*
    and dat last proverb…
    Grt Job bro

    Posted by hasarla | July 27, 2012, 8:55 am
  32. What a beautiful story ! Bravo !!!

    Posted by Bolaji | August 1, 2012, 11:50 pm
  33. Very touching. D sad truth abt life is dat all our actions are a chained sequence. For every decision made dere is a consequence. If she had lost her virginity or you had delayed her a minute or she didn’t have a need to recharge her phone, maybe she might have cheated death. I like d twin analogy. May Adeola RIP

    Posted by Omotola | August 2, 2012, 12:35 am
  34. Got me engrossed till d very end…nice piece

    Posted by Rita | August 2, 2012, 9:04 am

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