The Dabigal Blog

RATED 18+: The Funeral | A Short Story by Olabode Emmanuel Olawumi

Her eyes shone with lots of unshed tears in the gleaming darkness…

Mrs. Bolatito Alaka is crushed and overwhelmed, her face long with untold grief, she is utterly inconsolable, her better half, the man of her dreams, the love of her life has embarked on a journey of no return. Their first child, Jide is standing beside his mother, dejected but as custom demanded him to be a man, he put his agony at bay for his mother’s sake. Standing next to him was his father’s second child from another woman, they were seeing each other for the first time. Mr. Alaka, the man whose funeral we are all here to attend had impregnated his secretary two years after Jide’s arrival, His first wife Bolatito had warned him not to bring both mother and child near her and her son. Respectfully, Mr. Alaka had kept his separate families far away from one another. He ensured that their paths never crossed. Sadly, Mr. Alaka lost his life to an accident on his way from a trip outside Lagos — that was what we were told.

“Why I’m I crying right now? Am I sad because my best friend Jide has lost his father or that my father has lost his best friend? Or is it…..” Blinking back uncontrolled tears * SILENT*

Olajide and I were born two days apart. Unfortunately for him but fortunately for me *mischievous smile* I arrived first — his biggest regret. I rub it in his face as often as I can, I tell him I am older than him whether its 1 hour, 16 hours, 1 day, 2 days or whatever, it does not matter. All that counts is that I am older than him.

My name is Adebomi Adepegba, the only offspring of Mr. and Mrs. Adepegba, a middle-class family based in a developing housing estate in Ikorodu. We don’t have everything we want but we hardly lack anything we need. Olajide (my best friend) is Mr. Alaka’s first son. Mr. Alaka, in turn, is my father’s best friend, both men share paradoxical attributes. While my dad is introverted and prudent, Mr. Alaka, on the other hand, is a spendthrift, gregarious and promiscuous. His reputation precedes him. How he and my father were able to maintain and preserve over three decades friendship remains a mystery I do not wish nor long to uncover.

As fate would have it, Mr. Adepegba and Mr. Alaka put their wives in the family way at almost the same time. It was a historic moment for both families as this experience strengthened their bond. Mr. Alaka became my godfather while Jide was lucky to have my dad as his. My friendship with Jide started from the womb. He loves me as much as I adore him. Most times, strangers confuse us for siblings.

Ever since I stepped into the teenage coming of age stage, Mr. Alaka had been my one and only crush and he was well aware of it and would often tease me when we were alone. He would say, “It’s not yet time be patient my dear”. That statement meant two things to me — I should be patient for the right time to start my adventure with other boys or he will have me to himself when the time is right. I wanted him to myself, I pinned after him, longed after him, I wanted to be his, and sharing deep intimate moments with him was my greatest desire. Often times, when I was younger, he visited me in my dreams, he has always been my one, he didn’t treat me like a kid, he always listened to me. Whenever I had a fight with my father, I would run to him and he would welcome me with open arms, I always found solace in his arms.

My parents don’t fancy birthdays, they are not big on celebrations and I had gotten used to it. Though my eighteenth birthday signaled my passage rite into adulthood, it wasn’t going to be any different *SIGH*. Jide had recently gained admission to study Law at Covenant University (CU), Otta, Ogun State. I was waiting for the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) to call off its lingering strike so I could resume my second year at the University of Ibadan. I gained admission into the university before Jide who had issues with his JAMB. He couldn’t get his first choice, Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU), Ile-Ife, Osun State. His father was tired of having him at home for the third year, so he just pushed him to CU. He could afford it, my father couldn’t.

Mr. Alaka visited us the night before my big day to catch up with my father. I reminded him my birthday was the next day. He asked of my age and I gleefully squealed out “EIGH-TEEN”. “You are officially a woman”, he told me, “how time flies! These children grow up very fast these days”, addressing my parents. They blushed! My father muttered some words I didn’t hear, I couldn’t hear as I was in over my head thinking about my much awaited intimate fantasies coming to reality “It’s Time!!!”. “Come to the house tomorrow” he continued “I brought something for you from Dubai, I couldn’t have forgotten my goddaughter’s special birthday”, he faced me. I was elated. I wasn’t sure if it was just because of the gift or something more.

“Good afternoon sir”, I kneeled and bent forward before my godfather so he could have a sneak peek of my cleavage, with a broad smile that lifted the edges of his face he answered me “Stand up my beautiful daughter, omo toh dara, Happy birthday to you my darling”, he pulled me into his broad chest and gave me a very warm embrace, his cologne filtering through my airways, I felt like I was in a trance. “You look astonishingly beautiful,” he said, pulling out of his embrace, I took a step back giving him the opportunity to conduct a visual examination of my anatomy.

I had carefully selected the outfit the previous night, I ensured that it carved out my figure and revealed enough flesh to make him desire me. I saw the dark fiery look in his eyes, it was filled with lust like a salivating hyena, I could see a lion ready to devour his prey, he was the lion and I was his lamb, a much willing lamb ready to be devoured. I moved closer to him, whispered in his ear, “It is time!”

He feigned ignorance at first but was taken by surprise when I grabbed his balls, I squeezed it gently feeling his desire awaken in my hands. “Not here” he moaned. He lifted me like a newly wedded bride. In the blink of an eye, I was on his matrimonial bed, the one he shared with his beloved wife Bolatito. I could hardly lay still in bed as pent up passion threatened to push me over, I watched him unbuckle his belt, remove his trousers and his shirt. “Stay still”, he ordered, his eyes glisten with unbridled hunger “Yes daddy”, I teased. IT WAS TIME!

“Adebomi! It was my father’s voice hauling me out of my misery, my vacant gaze turned down, it was my turn to throw dirt on Mr. Alaka’s coffin. “Is he really gone? Why do I feel like all eyes are on me? Do they know that I was the last person to see him? No, I don’t think so. Wait! Does Mrs. Alaka know that I am the other woman she has been sharing her husband with? Oh my God! How do I explain to my parents that I am carrying my father’s best friend’s third child? Will Jide accept me as his step mum? I can’t feel myself anymore. I think I’m feeling dizzy. The lights are fading! Ohhh! I’m… “Ade…Adeboomi…Are you alright?”

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