FUN KILLS

‘Angela, one day you’ll kill me!’ Ike was a damn good lover boy. He was also very rich. He had an unusual skill and knack for making money — the same knack he had for ‘hooking’ ladies. There was definitely no doubt about it; he was in the millionaire’s club. He rode the latest of exotic cars. He had sophisticated houses in choice areas of the country. Ike was an importer and exporter of motor spare parts. He frequented Europe and America regularly to seal business deals and enjoy himself. He was a very handsome young man, tall, chubby and with a cool and charming disposition. No girl could escape his sugar-coated tongue. He knew what ladies wanted. And he would give them without mincing words. He was also a damn good liar. No woman could escape from his lecherous and amorous moves. No woman could beat his wits in matters of love and romance. Ike’s weak point was women. He could swear because of women. He could betray his closest friend because of women. He could even kill because of women. There was no denying the fact that he was a philanderer and gigolo of the highest order. He could also betray his blood brother because of women. Ike loved anything in skirt. He was so wayward and debauched that he confessed to a close pal one day that, “Old boy, I can die because of women! Take it or leave it man, I came through that ‘route’ and wouldn’t mind if I join my maker through the same ‘route’.” Another pastime Ike indulged in was drinking. He was so bacchanalian that he could drink urine if cocked in a bottle. He always soused himself in brandy, whisky and rum on a daily basis. He was noted for getting high on alcohol, after which his temper would rise and he could beat the living daylight out of his employees. There was a time he became drunk and descended furiously on his driver. It took about 10 able-bodied men to free his hapless driver from the merciless beating he received. Now, back to Ike’s insatiable hunger for women. He had a way with women that people often wondered how he coped with them. At this very moment, Ike was dating about 40 young girls and ladies alike. Nobody knew where he got the raw energy to satisfy the sexual appetite of such a number of women. Ike had about three offices in Lagos alone. He would put 10 girls in his Maryland office; put another 10 in his Surulere office and the rest he would put in his Yaba office. One by one, he would make love to them. He had them in various shapes, sizes and colours. He had no particular or definite attraction for his kind of woman. Some were slim, some on the chubby and plump side. But the truth was that Ike’s girls were always charming, beautiful and enchanting. His lustful affection for women cut across tribes and boundaries. He had Yoruba, Hausa and Igbo girls. He dated any woman he came in contact with. He was in his late 30s but never gave the idea of marriage a thought. He didn’t believe in the institution of marriage. He was neck-deep into the playboy culture and ways. Ike also patronised courtesans and women of easy virtue. There was a particular day in the life of Ike that actually showed how loose and spoilt he had become. It was on a Saturday night. He drove home in his BMW jeep, reeking of alcohol and in company with three beautiful daughters of Eve. The three damsels were really seductive, alluring and enchanting; they were in skimpy skirts and one was in a tight-fitting jeans trouser. Holy Moses! The way these beautiful girls carried themselves delectably would make a monk forget his strict religious vows and make a dive or plunge into their waiting arms! So sweet was their gait and charisma that no man could pass by them without taking a second look or even third. Neighbours that evening wondered what Ike would do with these three sexy and outlandish girls in tow. Within the blink of an eye, he took them inside his sprawling duplex. Right inside his living room, he quickly took off his designer shirt and trousers, leaving only his shorts. The girls were all sitting on a long Italian leather couch. Ike laid his head on the soft thigh of one of the girls and stretched out his legs on the thigh of another. The third girl was busy massaging his bare chest. The three girls in a row were giving him the regal treatment meant only for kings and princes. He was also sipping champagne and munching the laps of chicken. God, the young man was in heavenly bliss! What more could life offer! The three pretty girls were delicately massaging his body from head to toe. The split-unit air conditioner was on, and cool blues music was blaring from a hi-tech CD player. So much for the romance orgy with the three pretty damsels. Ike continued his wayward lifestyle with no fear for the consequences of his actions. On a particular Saturday evening, he drove himself to a popular eatery on the Island. On stepping down from his metallic black Navigator jeep, he sighted a light-skinned young beauty. He was overwhelmed by the celestial beauty of this young girl. The girl was also heading for the eatery. Really, the girl was angelic! She had a figure and a gait that could tempt even monks to do the unthinkable. She was putting on a skimpy dress that made her look irresistible and enchanting. In fact, she could be called the ‘enchantress’ by the way she flaunted her natural endowment. Her steps were calculating and mesmerising. Truly, the girl was charming from head to toe. She was spotless, and perfect, about five feet plus in height. All this while, Ike was lost in thought of admiration; he had never seen such a raving beauty in his entire life. The girl was even putting on tiny blue beads around her waist to further add beauty to her delectable frame. “Oh my… oh my…!” exclaimed Ike, smacking his lips, “Hello angel, just give me your love and I’ll make you happy with millions! What’s your name, Angel?” “I’m Angela…” she said softly, smiling and showing her white set of teeth. “Angela! Angela!” Ike repeated excitedly, “I thought as much. You know, I called you Angel! Remove the last ‘A’ and your name becomes Angel. If I were a prophet, my predictions would always come true. Oh, girl! Buy anything you want here and I’ll pick up the bill.” That night, Ike went home with the sexy beauty called Angela. With women, you can’t beat Ike. He had the bait, the tricks and everything that comes in handy when it comes to matters of the heart. Before one could say ‘Ike,’ he had made love with his new ‘catch,’ not minding the fact that she was a total stranger. When it comes to romance, he had no moral scruples. And he would take the ‘plunge’ without hesitation or carefulness. That was his way. Ike was so putrid, so rotten and foul in language that you’d better not leave your nine-year-old daughter with him for a minute; sure, she would come out with negative, awry and warped thoughts about life. Such was the dirt in his mind that only the devil could be his loyal friend. He was so debased, lewd and proud of his bad nature and he would even gloat over his sex appeal. That evening when he set his lascivious eyes on the nakedness of Angela, he screamed: “Unto thee I bow and shall pay homage, O mother of eroticism and concupiscence! Angela, one day you’ll kill me o!” Angela was exactly the last straw in Ike’s journey into the maze of romance. A week later, he realised he wasn’t feeling well. His health was gradually deteriorating. He was always having headache and getting tired. He saw his doctors and was given medication, but the health problem persisted. He was so weak he couldn’t do anything. Three weeks later, he became so lean and thin like a dehydrated horse. Most times, he would vomit any little food he took. About a month later, he had become so gaunt and sunken that his chest bones became noticeable and he looked haggard. He contacted his doctors again and a test was carried out on him; it was detected that he was HIV positive. Ike became a recluse from that moment. He became desolate and forlorn. His close friends deserted him. His once bubbly lifestyle came to a stop. He was always lonely in his house. He sold all his properties and estates to take care of his ailing health. He became so poor, broke and led a pauper’s life. The dashing young girls that swooned over him at every occasion left him to his fate. People avoided him like a plague. He lived painfully for another year and died the following year 2009, alone in his room. He died like an old haggard dog, unsung and mirthless. It became so strange how a man who was once gay and happy could die like a sad and uncelebrated villain.