Forums Coolval (series) TOASTING HER

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    Mama Ruka’s canteen was packed as
    usual that Thursday
    morning. It was a well-known fact that
    if a person made the mistake of coming
    after 10:30 am to buy food at her stall,
    he or she would have to wait for close to
    an hour to even get inside. An incredibly
    long queue would have formed outside
    her stall, and this was the lunch crowd.
    The dinner queue was far longer, more
    Funny enough, Mama Ruka did not serve
    On a regular day, the queue would start
    piling up before 10:00 am, and one
    wondered if the people on the queue
    had jobs, seeing as they were trying to
    buy lunch so early in the day. No one
    asked the other, so they just speculated.
    The long wait time notwithstanding,
    people came from as far away as Ajah to
    buy food from Mama Ruka’s canteen in
    Akoka. The student body as well as
    faculty members of the University of
    Lagos formed the core of her clientele,
    which was expected: her canteen was
    located on their campus
    David Njoku, a 200 level Mathematics
    student at UNILAG was familiar with the
    peculiarities of Mama Ruka’s canteen. He
    was what one would describe as a
    frequenter as opposed to a regular. As a
    frequenter, he visited the canteen 3 – 4
    times a week, usually for lunch. The
    regulars came in more than 10 times a
    week, excluding weekends.
    Being the savvy businesswoman she
    was, Mama Ruka, a jovial, well-
    proportioned woman in her early 40s,
    made sure she was familiar with her
    customers’ tastes, whether they were
    regulars or frequenters or first-timers.
    In the midst of the chaos that raged
    within the stall, she still found time to
    greet each customer warmly, inquire
    about their day, their families, and
    launch into animated and exciting
    discussions on topics selected from an
    assorted list: the hot weather, neighbors’
    p---y cats, the price of petrol, Boko
    Haram, inflation and occasionally,
    adultery. In short, they talked about
    everything under the sun. Or at least,
    under the Nigerian sun.
    Adultery was not on David’s mind that
    morning. Having just returned from a
    painfully boring lecture, his mind was
    blank. But by the time he joined the
    queue around 10:48am, he got an earful
    of gist that should have been labelled
    “for mature audiences only.” As could
    be expected, the queue had formed in
    front of Mama Ruka’s stall and it was
    growing longer every minute.
    There were at least twenty people ahead
    of David on the queue. Of that number,
    two men who were directly in front of
    him provided a little entertainment while
    he waited in line. From their shabby
    appearance, he surmised that they were
    non-teaching staff members or more
    specifically, “errand boys” attached to a
    particular department or faculty on
    They were engrossed in an intense
    conversation that was so loud that David
    was sure the next 10 people in line
    would have no trouble following their
    gist. The decidedly savory parts of the
    conversation were prefaced and
    punctuated by wild gesticulations that
    were just as interesting to watch as it
    was to listen to the content of their
    “The lecturer don off im cloth o. As im
    wan knack de girl, na so those cult boys
    break the door–” said the man in the
    blue shirt and brown trousers.
    “Ewooooo! Why dem no lock de door
    now? Which kain rubbish be dat?
    Person wey go dey do dat kain tin
    suppose get key to lock door,” his friend
    in the green and yellow ankara shirt and
    trousers observed, as if there was a
    training manual for committing adultery,
    which the lecturer had failed to read. His
    friend hissed and continued.
    “Siddon dere, dey yarn say im no lock
    door. Na responsible man be dis? If to
    say he dey consider wetin he dey do well
    well, he suppose do am for im office?”
    “Wait o. Na wetin you come dey talk? Say
    e for better make dem go hotel?”
    At this point, the man in the blue shirt
    who was telling the story to his friend
    got slightly annoyed with his friend’s
    hotel suggestion. But, he quickly forgave
    him and completed his story.
    From what this man heard, the night
    before, a lecturer had been caught
    literally with his pants down in his office
    with a female student. After weeks of
    threatening to give her a failing grade
    for his class if she did not give in to his
    lustful advances, she finally gave in. The
    class was one she needed to pass to
    graduate, and the lecherous lecturer was
    the only one who taught it.
    Unknown to him, her cousin was a
    member of one of the deadliest secret
    cults on campus. Up to that time, she
    had kept this man’s threats away from
    her cousin’s ears. But seeing herself in a
    tight fix, and after hearing rumors that
    another female student had given this
    same lecturer Herpes, she decided it was
    time to bring her cousin into the picture.
    Knowing the reputation of that
    particular cult, she made it clear that she
    did not want the lecturer killed. She just
    wanted him to learn a painful lesson. Her
    cousin had told her that he could not
    make any promises, but he was certain
    the lecturer would change his ways after
    they had finished with him.
    On the night the lecturer had picked, the
    girl’s cousin and his friends – five men
    altogether – waited for the lecturer to go
    to his office in the company of his
    supposed victim. Then, they waited
    outside his door waiting for the girl’s
    signal. It was the word “oya.”
    As soon as she gave the signal, they
    burst into his office, cameras and
    camcorders recording his irreversible
    moment of shame. Of course, the
    lecturer knew it was all over at that
    point, and began to plead for his life. But
    the cultists ignored his last-minute
    repentance and beat him within an inch
    of his life. According to the man
    recounting the story, the cultists actually
    thought they had killed him.
    But the man miraculously survived.
    “E no go try dat kain tin again, lai lai!”
    the storyteller exclaimed.
    His friend was not so optimistic.
    “Some people no dey learn their lesson
    quick quick like dat. He fit try am again,”
    the other man observed.
    David hissed inwardly. He wished his
    lecture had ended earlier. That way, he
    would have arrived here before the
    dreaded queue formed and would not
    have to listen to this silly story.
    Lecturers and students .
    Was there anything new under the sun?
    His stomach growled in response. The
    answer was a plain “No.”
    Inasmuch as he would much rather have
    listened to someone recount the details
    of the Manchester versus Chelsea match
    he had missed the week before, there
    was something in their conversation
    that had piqued his attention: the name
    of the girl at the center of the whole
    drama. Her name was Sade.

    #1266290 Reply
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    #1266319 Reply
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    Present, is it truly possible for people to queue that long for food?

    #1266329 Reply
    • "Posts"452
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    Na pant the woman dey cook 4 dem

    #1266424 Reply
    • "Posts"8317
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    Wetin con happen after?

    #1266430 Reply
    • "Posts"19837
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    Nice start

    #1266472 Reply
    • "Posts"1873
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    next pls

    #1266566 Reply
    • "Posts"1759
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    Waooh nice one

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