Randy Landlord (the conclusion)

So sorry i am only just putting the conclusion of Randy Landlord up.I had some family matters to attend to but i'm back now If you didn't read the first part, you can find it below or here . So y'all enjoy the rest of the story and let me know what you think still...

The next week I got a simple email from him telling me he was working onsomething and he would get in touch as soon as he finished. I was mad, this was no way for a man to treat his wife. Had he even forgotten about our son?

My landlord and his wife paid us a visit someday and the woman in her caring way wanted to know what was going on. I surprised myself when I burst into tears, I had been bottling up my emotion. The woman just came to me, wrapped me in a hug and promised me that she was sure whatever the situation was, everything would be ok. The husband had an ‘I knew it’ look on his face and I hated myself for breaking down in their presence. When I calmed down, my landlord’s wife turned to him and said: ‘’honey, why don’t you take our young friend with you to the club today to get her mind off things? I really don’t want to go, you can cheer her up and you will have company. I’ll take Dammy (my son) for the evening’’

I wondered if this woman could not tell that her husband was hitting on me. Why had fate planned it this way. I tried to get out of it but she would hear none of my protests. I needed to go out and be cheerful. I was stuck with the old goat.

I was tense all the way to the club and barely said a word throughout the drive. After having a few drinks though, I relaxed and an evening with ‘the old goat’ as I was fond of calling him turned out not too bad after all, he had a great sense of humour and made me laugh a lot forgetting my problems. I must have been tipsy a bit. I was surprised he didn’t ask me for anything that night, he only asked if I wanted to do it again with a glint in his eyes. I found myself saying yes and I knew the next time, there might be no turning back. He put an envelope in my hands as he said goodnight, when I opened it, there was a sum of N20,000. My heart leapt for joy. I needed cash at the time.

We had a nice evening and he introduced me to some of his friends at the club as his friend and also his tenant, one of them winked knowingly at me and I felt a pang of guilt. I was probably not the first lady my landlord had brought to this place. We enjoyed the evening and I braced myself for what I knew would happen when we left the club

My landlord instructed his driver to drive to a popular hotel far from where we lived. My heart was pounding in my chest as I knew what I was about to embark on was unfaithfulness to my husband and our marriage vows but I rationalised that a woman had needs and my husband had not been there in a long time to fulfil those needs or do his duties. I rationalised that my move was justified. My body craved intimacy and my purse needed cash. My landlord was providing both.

I went into the bathroom to have a shower and left my landlord on the bed, it kept occurring to me that I was doing the wrong thing and I would live to regret it. In all our married years, this had not happened once, not even when we were dating. Would I be able to live with the consequences. I begged my heart to let me rest, afterall I had committed the adultery in my heart already but it would not be quiet. I was wondering if I could go through with the deceit and ever look my husband in the face again or even the landlord. What could be the end of this affair but shame?

I walked out of the bathroom and heard my phone beep with a text message. It was from my husband and it simply said: ‘baby I love you, I am sorry for the agony I have put you through. Please forgive me. I’ll be home tomorrow morning and we can work things out. I am very sorry’

I looked at my landlord, shook my head and told him I couldn’t go through with it, grabbed my clothes, hurriedly wore them and ran out of the hotel room, leaving the man watching after me with mouth agape.

PS:

Hope you guys liked the conclusion, if not, you can write your own ending in your comment...I know..lol

Have a nice week!
Also remember to take a look at the blog aloted and i cohost

Mr Randy Landlord

Hi peeps, hope you had a good week. And that you're well rested for the coming one...i was going to write another memoir from my childhood but right now i'm feeling quite lazy so i thought i'd put up one of my short stories and you guys can let me know what you think. Hope you have a nice read.
Please don't forget to visit the blog aloted and i are cohosting if you haven't been there.

The Randy Landlord

‘Come out now and defend yourself’, I heard a distant voice behind my bedroom window. I refused to respond thinking it was Bola and his wife my next door neighbours who were constantly at each other’s throat. His wife was always accusing him of cheating on her and in return he would beat her mercilessly. I had gone to separate them while fighting on several occasions. I decided to ignore them and thought they would see reason and carry the fight to their flat.
I turned to the other side, covering my head with the pillow, then I heard loud banging on my door and decided to check the clock by my bedside, it was 12 midnight. ‘Won’t these people just leave me alone?’ I said as I decided to ignore the knock, hoping the caller would take the hint they were unwelcome and go away. It seemed the caller was hell bent on waking me because the knock became louder and more persistent. I listened, trying to grasp what the person was saying. Which of the other tenants would be calling on me at this time of the night? I concluded it could only be Bola and his wife and I got up, ready to go and give them a piece of my mind. If they could not stay married in peace then it was best they separated from each other.
As I wore my dressing gown over my night dress, I could make out the voice of my landlord, ‘useless woman, come out now and defend yourself on why you’ve been rude to my wife’. It was my landlord’s voice alright and I wondered what he was talking about. Did this man know the time was the thought in my head as I stumbled to my door, sleep still very heavy in my eyes.
I opened the door and he was standing right there, half naked, just a wrapper wrapped around his waist. I didn’t even know some men still wore that these days. ‘Good evening sir or should I say good morning? To what do I owe this honour of you waking me up at this time of the night?’
I expected him to be shouting considering what I heard before opening the door but he was all smiles, grinning like an overfed cat, his pot belly thumping up and down
‘Won’t you ask me in?’ He said revealing the gap between his teeth.
‘No sir, I will not let you in, it is the middle of the night and you should go and sleep in your house while you let me sleep.’
‘You’re being rude to me this girl’, he said, holding on to my door so I wouldn’t close it in his face.
‘It’s late sir, we can discuss whatever you need to discuss with me when day breaks’
‘No this cannot wait’, he said as he pointed to the bulge under his towel
‘God forbid! I am a respectably married woman and I will not take kindly to such things. Please leave now before I get very nasty’
‘Relax, young woman, you claim to be married, yet your husband leaves you alone in this house almost half of the year. Let me keep you warm when your husband is away. I can do that very well’
I wondered what to say to this man. I had wondered at the attention he was paying my son and I recently. He would go out and stop by our flat some evenings claiming to have a gift for him. My 4 year old son had even taken to calling him Grandpa and was growing very fond of him. It all made sense now; his sudden interest in our well being, his constant stopping by, his gifts, offering to call his mechanic when my car had a fault, everything made sense now. Wale my husband had told me to be careful with him the last time I hinted him of how nice our landlord was. I playfully told him he was being jealous since he was far away. He told me he was only protecting his family and that he had a feeling the man was not genuine. We did not conclude on what to do but I was not going to treat a nice man with disdain.
Now it all made sense. Why did Wale’s office have to station him outside the city where we live for months on end? His company only allowed him come home for a few weekends. I had complained, prayed and hoped. Now I was just accepting it and hoping our situation would change soon. If my husband was home with me, this old goat would not stand at my door asking me to let him keep me warm.
I came back to the present and shouted so other tenants would hear. ‘Please sir, leave now, my son is sleeping and I would not want you to wake him up’. What was he even thinking standing there in his loin cloth? What would other tenants think if they saw him coming from my door like that? Bisi and Angela were the house gossips; they both lived in the mini flats at the back of the house and made every other person’s business theirs. Rumour had it that Angela was the cause of the fight between Bola and his wife and she endlessly tempted the young man when his wife was not around.
I succeeded at sending our landlord away that night but for the next two months, I constantly received such knocks on my door every night. I complained to my husband who said I should be careful and make sure the door was always locked when we were around at home. He was sorry he could not come home yet, he was on a project and he could nto leave. What kind of job would make a man desert his family in time of need, I wondered. I was upset with him and we had a fight on the phone. He was neglecting me and our son, I told him in plain words. For several months, I had endured the loneliness of a married woman living as a single woman. I lashed out at him with all the frustration I felt and all he could say was how he was sorry for putting me through hell. I ended the call and told him when he had worked something out, he could call me.
Amidst all this, my landlord did not relent in his effort to get me into his bed, he constantly harassed me when other people were there shouting that I was being rude to his wife, then at midnight he would sneak to my window and beg me to open the door just that once and how he would satisfy me. He told me of how he knew I could not be enjoying life with my husband so far away.
My husband continued sending me text messages to say how sorry he was but I knew something was wrong. One of the days when I thought deeply of our situation and how much I loved my husband and was not willing to give up on our marriage, I replied him and asked what was going on. All he could say was ‘I will explain in due time but for now, bear with me, I can’t come home yet’. What was going on? Then, he stopped communicating; he had not sent money to us in the past two months. First month, I thought he was broke and overlooked it, this was the second month and he was incommunicado. I was devastated, I knew I declared the war but it was not like my husband to have both his cell phones turned off. He was not replying his emails either. I thought something bad must have happened to him, but reasoned with myself that his office would have called me. I decided to be brave and called his Lagos office. What I heard was a rude shock, ‘your husband no longer works with us’, the receptionist said in an icy voice, ‘’Do you know why’’? I asked her. Her response sounded impatient: ‘’madam, there was a fraud, your husband was involved in it, any other thing you want to find out?’’ ‘’No, thank you’’, I replied. My world came crashing down. The project he was working on now made sense. My husband was jobless and was now avoiding getting in touch with me. What did he think I would do??? .....to be continued

Back to the Treadmill

Earlier in the year, i made a resolve to join a gym and go thrice a week, i had moved from a size 8 to a 10 and didn't want to go any further than that, some flabs were beginning to appear in the wrong places..i had to keep in shape so i registered, even got hubby to go with me a few times, trust me that was a huge achievement, lol. This was about the time i left my job so i had no reason not to go, i started out with a lot of enthusiasm, i loved working out so much i would never drop out!
My gym instructor was very impressed with me, i was very consistent and even lost 2kg, dropping from 65 to 63 kg in less than two weeks, i was happy with my achievement, my target was to go back to 60kg and stay there and keep fit..then i started a training program and it became hard to go to the gym although i finished in the early afternoons. I had sound excuses not to go and workout.
For a while, i maintained a lazy routine at home and kept promising myself i would go to the gym tomorrow or the day after, good thing is tomorrow never ends...se, all you procrastinators (i have a right to form my own English words seeing that Soyinka is one of my mentors) in the house, please nod your heads with me!
Then i got an assignment somewhere on the Island and stayed out till like 7pm most days..there went my gym resolve, out of the window! No more gym, it was a nice plan, it just wasn't convenient anymore, being busy helped my wwight remain constant but i had reneged on my resolve even on weekends...then gradually i let go of my routine at home and i was no longer exercising...i was back to my 65kg!
A few days ago, here i am months after leaving my last assignment and working from home, i took a look at my tummy and i didn't really like what i saw, looked like the onset of a bump, now that would be fantastic if i was pregnant but as my normal tummy, it's not really allowed so i started doing sit ups at home and hubby laughed at me asking me what happened to my plans to go to the gym. He reminded me of how he complimented me when i was going religiously and how i looked trim. I felt bad and took it as a challenge and i took the car keys, put on my trainers and off i went to they gym.
I hope i can keep it up...will maybe give you the details of the gym escapades later, though nothing interesting really there except for miss i'm sexy, i wear make up to the gym and i call the instructor every two minutes!
How many times have we started out on something that seems to be a very good plan, starting with a lot of zeal and passion and then weeks or months down the line, we get tired, or we meet some obstacles and we throw in the towel. Good intentions are never enough, what you do with the good intentions or what you keep doing with the good intentions is what matters. I'l throw this question to you, what will you do with what you know to do in the face of contrary circumstances? Would you just let go of your belief or would you press on and consistently do what you believe?

Anyway, enough about my gyming experience and philosophising...i'm working on a short story and want to give you guys a sneak peek into it, let's title it Escape...
Curtains open..reveal characters...

ESCAPE
I woke up to plan my escape from a prison, not a typical kind of jail but a prison all the same. My husband or whoever he is to me went on a music tour and didn’t take me along. He is a musician, and I joined him as a back up singer out of admiration. He took a special liking to me out of all his singers and I felt privileged. I was too naive to differentiate between love and lust or the desire of a man to acquire a woman as his personal belonging.
I come from a very conservative home. My father was a director in the civil service while my mother was a primary school teacher. They had great plans for me; I was going to the higher institution to study Economics or Accounting after which I would graduate and do them proud.
Ola came to Ilu tuntun, the small city where we lived, on a performance tour and the organisation that brought him to our city called for auditions of young talents. He had given them the mandate to do so. I went to audition without my parents’ knowledge. I was only seventeen but I was wiser than my parents or so I thought. I knew if they found out, they would be disappointed that I did not mention it to them but I was also sure that they would frown at the idea. I registered for the audition and began preparing myself for my debut performance. I had a dress I wanted to wear in mind; the one that mother bought for me last Christmas. Everyone complimented me when I wore it and all the young boys around my area wanted to court me.
I would lock the door, dress up, and sing in front of the mirror, trying to imitate the artists I so much admired and watched on the TV all the time. Most days I would watch them and imagine myself on the stage instead of them. I was enchanted. Mother never allowed me to watch them until I turned sixteen and finished my Secondary education.
I had a secret admiration for them and a few times when I attempted to tell Mother how I would love to be like them. She would shake her head and say 'Tope, you will not become a harlot, not while your father and I are alive. No child of mine will be a singer, God forbid!’ She would snap her fingers over her head in the usual Yoruba fashion.
I decided not to talk to her about it anymore. She was too old fashioned anyway and I was convinced all artists could not be women of easy virtue. Sikira, our house maid suffered for it though as I perpetually bore her with tales of how I would one day become a star and sing all over the world and how I would then tell my mother not all musicians were loose people..... (to be continued maybe..hehehe)