Shades Of Deceit Episode 6

Shades Of Deceit Episode 6



Garki, Abuja.


Chika ran his hand on his head in a sweeping movement as he fixed his gaze on the laptop on his desk. The design was proving to be a much more bigger challenge than he had anticipated, his eyes squinting as he tried to fashion out fine details in the work in front of him.

Incoming Call – Sylvia

He hissed.

It was the fifth time she was calling in less than three minutes, obviously to let him know that she had left his office.

He had left an instruction with the receptionist barring her from seeing him, after the last time she visited.

He smiled as the thought of a ‘restraining order’ seeped into his mind. It sounded like a good idea but definitely not in Nigeria. The police that is supposed to effect the order would actually be the ones to escort the person you are seeking to restrain, to you, maybe even blaring sirens as they come.

‘Stupid people,’ he muttered as he swivelled in his chair, distracted from work by the funny thoughts in his head.

Why was he even wasting his thoughts on Sylvia and the police when he had real issues to deal with?

His eyes fell on the planner on the table, with the green circle drawn around 26 immediately seizing his attention.

It was his birthday but it meant nothing anymore. He had drawn green circles around special days earlier in the year to remind him to spend it with his family, but it just didn’t make any more sense now that there was no family.

The saying finally made sense to him; special days are special, because of special people.

‘I miss my boy,’ he said to himself. He would have loved to switch that to ‘I miss my family,’ but he wasn’t so sure about his wife. He missed her, but he just couldn’t bring himself to forgive her now. The sting from the tape still felt fresh.

You know you’re such a proud fool, right?

The familiar voice that had become his companion since the separation, whispered in his head. What stops you from making that call now? It continued.

Like he was on auto-response, Chika reached out for his phone, too drained to argue with the voice like he would normally do. He tapped a button and watched the screen of his phone as it dialled his wife’s number. She was still on his quick dial.

He plugged the phone to his ears and soon enough there was that familiar buzzing sound from the other end.

He paused as he searched his mind for the right word to say after the ritual of hello. His mouth felt dry as he drummed his fingers on the table with his free left hand.

‘Hello,’ she said, from the other end. Her voice composed and strong.

‘Hello,’ He replied, not sure what his next words would be. The only thing he was sure of at the moment was that he missed his son, and just maybe, his wife.

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Lugbe, Abuja.


Priye ran her fingers on his chest, snuggling up to him as she felt his hand wrap her up some more.

This was the best part of their meet-up. It usually made her feel like he was hers for real.

How she coveted him.


‘I’ll miss us,’ she said, her lips vibrating on his chest as she spoke. ‘I’ll miss us so much,’ she repeated.

‘Are you relocating?’ Michael asked, his head propped up against the pillow on the bed.

‘Relocating? No!’

‘So?’ Michael questioned further, ‘you sound like you’re going somewhere, cos’ I’m not.’

‘Ben proposed,’ Priye breathed, as she lifted up her hand to display the ring on her finger.

‘What!’ Michael gasped, as he rose up to a sitting position on the bed. ‘When? How? Why?’ He spluttered.

‘On Sunday, I told you we were dating.’

‘Not formally. And Ben also never spoke to me about it,’ Michael replied with an air of lordship. ‘Besides Ben cannot adequately provide for you.’

‘Hmmn,’ Priye grunted as she lifted her head from his laps to gaze at him. ‘And he’s a pastor in your ministry?’ She asked defiantly.

‘I know someone who can take care of you,’ Michael continued, ignoring her question. ‘He has come to take permission from me to speak with you, which is the proper way to go about such things. His name is Harrison, he’s a deputy manager at…’

‘Ben has proposed to me and I said yes,’ Priye cut in, not interested in hearing the full story.

‘Do you love him?’ Michael asked.

‘Atleast I know him and I like him,’ she answered. ‘Besides, what has my loving you all this while fetched me, apart from being a mistress?’ Priye asked, her eyes blazing as she spoke.


‘Yes Pas-toor,’ Priye replied, with a slur on the ‘Pastor’ to amplify the sarcasm in her voice.

Michael’s eyes brightened up as Priye’s words hit him. He made to climb down from the bed, but Priye grabbed him, holding him back.

‘I’m sorry,’ She said, her voice soft and sensuous. Her grip around him tight.

‘I’m not surprised at your attitude. After-all, you have seen the nakedness of a man of God,’ Michael said as he unlocked her arms from around him and climbed down from the bed.

Priye held back her chuckle at ‘nakedness of a man of God. ‘I’m very sorry,’ she repeated, her head lowered.

Michael’s fingers worked mechanically as he buttoned up his shirt, his eyes wearing an angry stare.

He didn’t see Priye’s descent from the bed as she closed him up in her arms from behind.

‘You’re becoming too familiar with the anointing,’ he said, his palms closing up the knots formed by her hand.

‘I’m enjoying the dispensation of grace,’ Priye whispered into his ears, as she teased his ear lobes with her tongue.

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‘All the scriptures you know are for seduction.’ Michael teased, as he turned to face her.

Priye laughed. ‘I love you,’ she said as Michael closed her up in a bear hug.

She didn’t get a response as usual, but it did not matter to her, as him being so close, felt so good that the walls in the room disappeared and she could feel herself sailing in space.

He did not need to say anything, if he could just hold her like this in his arms, forever.

If words were ever needed to be spoken between them, she would do the talking for both of them.



Gwarimpa Estate, Abuja.


Yewande Johnson heaved a sigh of relief as she hung the last piece of clothing on the line.

She was beginning to feel the bite of hunger but she had just one last chore to take care of before settling for breakfast; her sister’s room.

Laide always insisted on fixing her room herself, almost always stopping her from arranging the room, but now that she was home alone with Jeremiah, she could go on to sweep the room at-least, as it was almost always very well kept.

They were a very neat couple and she adored both husband and wife. She smiled at how her brother in-law being from Benin had influenced her decision to go out on a date with Osas two years ago and with him now being her fiancé and the man with whom she will exchange marital vows come December fifth and sixth, she could truthfully say, she had no regrets about her decision.

As the youngest of four girls and the only one yet to be married, she had the privilege of visiting her sisters’ homes and even though they all seemed happy in marriage, the person’s home she would like to replicate was this one, her eldest sisters’ home. Inasmuch as her choice could be mistaken to be solely based on the very special relationship she enjoyed with her eldest sister, to the extent that everyone in the family referred to them as mother and daughter, it was also very highly influenced by Uncle Michael.

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Who would not want a husband that is not only God-fearing but also dotes on you when you’re together in public places?

Who would not desire a man that possesses so much knowledge and yet shows so much humility?

Osas was presently not so far off the mark as he was very expressive about his love for her, but he paled in comparison to her brother in-law, Uncle Michael, who was just on a class of his own.

She respected him that much.

‘Aunty Yewande, come and take me on a spelling drill,’ Jeremiah said, as she stepped into his room to check up on him.

‘Not now.’

‘When?’ The boy asked, tugging at her fingers as he tried to woo her to join him.

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‘Jerry boy not now,’ she said, rubbing her hand on his head fondly. ‘Just give me fifteen minutes, I should be through with cleaning up your parents room, then we can do the spelling drill for as long as you want.’

The room was looking very well arranged, with every item seemingly placed in their proper positions and the bed well spread out with no visible crease on the bed-sheet.

Yewande sighed. ‘What a couple,’ she said as she scanned the room to find out what she could possibly do to make it look better.

She just couldn’t help but wonder who amongst the couple was responsible for making the room look so good. It could have been either of them as Uncle Michael was not a man to shy away from cleaning up the house as she has so often seen him do, while her sister, even while being heavily pregnant still insisted on doing some house chores as she claimed it made her fit and prepared for her due date, calling it delivery day exercise.

Her eyes caught the gift bag sitting idly on the ground by the corner of the bed and her curiosity was stirred, forcing her legs to move in the direction of the bag.

She had seen Uncle Michael bring it in with him on Saturday, the same day she had arrived from Lagos, but she had not yet had the opportunity to see its contents.

The bag was empty, save for a black velvet case and a card. Her instincts went immediately for the case and as she opened it, her eyes lighted up as the glitters from the diamond pieced jewellery, twinkled at her.

‘Wow,’ she gasped. ‘This is beautiful.’

Her hands quickly reached out for the card, wanting to see the beautiful words scripted down in it as she made to recreate the emotions and the atmosphere in which the presentation was made.

She salivated as she opened the card, her being trembling with anticipation as she imagined the magical words that her eyes were about to behold, but as she read out the words in the card, the look on her face switched from delight to shock as she blinked in disbelief at what she was seeing.

The diamond pieced jewellery suddenly felt cold and the last shred of belief in fairy tales which she had kept with her since she was a young girl, vanished.

‘This is not true,’ she muttered to herself, shaking her head as she read out the words in the card slowly, like someone in a trance.

I’m sorry I hit you again. This definitely is the last time. And even though I know I have said that before, I promise to keep my promise this time. I love you booboo. You’re ‘MyGoodThing’.

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