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To be honest, Eka was not what I was expecting. At least, my Mum got one thing right; she was a real beauty! The genuine stuff, no fakeness anywhere.
I still remember gaping at her, stunned when she came into the living room where my parents and I sat.
In my line of work, advertising, I meet all kinds of beautiful women- models, even actresses whom we use for our ad campaigns and promos, but I have not seen anyone to compare with Eka.
'Christ! Where did Mum find her,' I thought as I studied her: smooth, creamy brown skin that glowed with youth and health, sweet looking face with full sensual lips, a body that can rival that of Mercy Johnson* anyday (full, ripe breasts, slim waist and a backside that can make a man drool with desire.)
I was almost, already drooling but I quickly checked myself and put on a poker face, acting indifferent.
My mother did the introductions.
"Eka , my dear, this is your husband, Tamuno."
"Hello," she greeted, a little smile playing round her lips. As she later left the room to get something for my mother, my eyes followed her, noting the way her ass undulated with each step she took. This was not the crude and local village girl I had envisaged! This was...
"So, what do you think?" my mother asked, intruding into my thoughts.
I shrugged.
"Not bad," I stated cryptically, to which my father retorted:
"Is that all you can say? She's a beauty, anyday !"
"Don't mind him! He does not appreciate a good thing when he sees one! He prefers all those plastic , fake girls with their faces plastered with so much make up , they don't realise they look like masquerades!" she said. "Anyway," she continued as if I was not in the room," His opinion does not matter. He's marrying Eka! What is left is for us to make arrangements for the traditional marriage rites so she can move in as his wife."
"But, Mum. I've not..." I started to say.
"No buts! The decision has been taken and it's final," my mother stated forcefully.
Later that night, as I lay in bed, ruminating on the meeting with Eka, I wondered why I had not continued to argue with my mother as I had been doing previously on the matter. Was seeing Eka affecting my stand on the arranged marriage?
I could not tell. All I know is that as I drifted off to sleep, all I could think about was Eka, her sultry looks especially her sexy backside, her round, succulent breasts, wondering what they will feel like in my hands...
***
Two days later, when my mother suggested I take Eka out on a date, so we could get better acquainted, to my shock, I readily agreed. Truth was, I was intrigued by her. I wanted to know more about her apart from what my Mum had told me, which was basically nothing.
She was 20 years old and in her second year at the university studying Economics.
"So, what will you like to do when you graduate?" I asked her as we sipped cold drinks at an eatery in a shopping mall at the Rumuola area of town.
"I'll love to teach," she replied promptly.
"You could work in a bank, a big company or anywhere. Why teaching?" I asked. Teaching was not an attractive profession for young graduates these days because of the poor pay and working conditions.
"Both my parents are teachers. So, I grew up in that kind of environment," she disclosed, adding that she loved teaching children. "I've been teaching Sunday school at the church for nearly fours years now."
I liked the fact that she had a passion for something, rather than just finishing school and looking for a man to marry her as a lot of young ladies did these days.
As we were about leaving, my mobile phone rang. It was Efe, my fiancé.
Excusing myself, I took the call outside, by the entrance of the eatery.
She wanted to know when I was returning to Lagos.
"I miss you, Tam," she said. "Don't stay too long in PH."
I missed her too. Previously, I did not spend more than two weeks at my parents' during my vacations. But this year was different. There was something interesting to keep me longer in Port-Harcourt, rather than dashing back to Lagos to be with Efe.
As we spoke, I saw a man through the glass doors stopping at our table to chat with Eka.
"Efe , I need to go! We'll talk later," I said quickly and dashed inside the eatery.
"What did he want?" I demanded, after the man had left on seeing me.
"Oh, he just wanted to know the time," she stated.
"He should go and buy a watch," I rejoined. As we walked out, I placed a possessive arm around her waist, as a form of stamp of ownership...
What is really going on with Tamuno? And who will he finally end up with between the two ladies Efe or Eka?
*Note: Mercy Johnson is a popular Nollywood actress
To be continued...
Names have been changed to protect the identity of the narrator and other individuals in the story.
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