Thu, 09 Nov 2023 Feature Article

Fẹmi Akọmọlafẹ: A short story by Femi Akomolafe

Fẹmi Akọmọlafẹ:  A short story by Femi Akomolafe

William Shakespeare is generally credited with the quote: “Hell has no fury than a woman scorned.”

But actually, it was another satirist, William Congreve, who, in the “Mourning Bride” (1697), wrote: “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.”

The bard is seldom wrong but on this occasion, I guess the rhymester and Mr. Congreve are dead (no pun intended) wrong.

It would appear that they both never slept with their girlfriends’ best friend to experience what a woman’s wrath is all about.

It happened to me.

Abena is my girlfriend; her friend’s name is Naa Deidei.

You might ask why I decided to ‘know’ (to use the Biblical expression) my girlfriend’s best friend, and you’ll be right.

It remains as much puzzlement to me as it must be to you. If I am remotely religious, I will borrow the popular expressions of our numerous pastors who have been caught in flagrante delicto, and say that ‘the devil made me do it.’

Since yours truly is an Agnostic, you will have to make do with my saying that I got seriously carried away.

I am no celluloid martyr but I ‘knew’ Naa Deidei fully cognizant of my (mis)deed.

Another great mystery is that ‘that woman’ (to borrow Bill Clinton’s phrase) cannot even hold a candle to my beloved’s beauty.

Abena is a beauty, I tell no lie. And she is a wonderful maestro at swinging those luscious hips of hers; God, your name be Praise!

But then, hmm, Naa has one or two things going for her: (1) a luscious mouth that looks like it was designed to give man endless pleasures(sexist swine), and (2) an industrial-sized wonderful buttock that looks like they were molded for heavy (what else?) DUTIES. Merely looking at those gorgeous vibrating rear engines never failed to give man nasty ideas.

Allahu Akbar!

No, don’t get me wrong. My girlfriend is not deprived in that department either (Abena is actually well-endowed herself), but it is just that what Naa packed at her back would make Angel Melaku (Google her up if you don’t know her) look like one of those skinny bimbos Western magazines splash on their covers.

I clearly remember the day Abena brought her friend to my house. I just couldn’t help staring at those pair of bulbous flesh – Naa’s mighty cleavage is another sight to behold.

“Are they real?” I asked my girlfriend when she came back from seeing her friend off.

“What?” My girlfriend was askance.

“That ass your friend packs?”

She burst out laughing, revealing those pleasing, pearly-white teeth. “I hope that you are not planning anything with my friend.”

“Hell, no. But I will not lie to you, she’s utterly desirable. I will only stare and not touch.”

I said and I truly meant it then.

“For your own sake, I hope that you do not. Otherwise, I am going to castrate you myself.”

We laughed it off then. It looks like eons ago. Today here I stood – a liar and an adulterer (but is that technically correct, since we are not married?) begging my girlfriend for forgiveness.

So, how exactly did I manage to seduce Naa?

True, to tell, I did no such thing. If there was any seduction, it was purely her fault.

No, no, I am not some coward trying to pass the buck.

Since you’re dying to know, here is the story. Abena, my girlfriend works in Accra and lives with her folks at Mamobi. She visits me regularly and we do stuff together if you get the drift of my gist. Yours truly live in Kasoa, where I have my modest manse. Naa is jobless (let’s employ that popular Ghanaian word you will not find in the dictionary!) and she happens to live in Kasoa. I have a general idea about where she lives, but yours truly have never been there. Abena told me her friend patches up with a layabout mason who likes his drink a little too much. I have never met the guy. And in all these years, I never thought of her as anything more than an acquaintance, even though she has, on several occasions, followed Abena to my place where they share meals and jokes and gossip.

I never even thought of her as my ‘type.’

It was your average June midday; the weather was as unpredictable as a woman’s mood. I was doing serious justice to a delicious meal Abena had prepared for me.

Since you are so curious, it’s eba with green vegetable stew and large chunks of fresh fish, prepared just the way I liked it.

A knock on the door brought a frown to my face. I hate to be interrupted, especially when attacking a meal.

My frown turned into anxiety when I saw Naa Dedei standing there looking like a woman in distress.

“He has thrown me out!” She lamented as serious tears welled her eyes.

“What?” I didn’t comprehend what she was saying.

“Kwesi has thrown me out!” She wailed like a banshee.

“What?” I repeated like an idiot.

Kwesi is her fiancé and I gathered that he has already performed the ‘Agbo shimo’ (knocking in Ga). The marriage is scheduled for later in the year. I can understand her righteous anguish. I doubt if any woman can maintain dignified composure in such circumstances

“What am I going to do?” She asked rhetorically. The tears were now flowing freely like the Wli Waterfalls in the Volta Region. Poor woman!

She made no attempt to clean her face. I got a clean kerchief and gave it to her. She cleans some of her tears and blows her nose noisily. She hiccups spasmodically and begins to wail anew. My heart fell and since I was standing close to her, I presented my shoulder for her to cry on. She sobs mightily against me and shudders with grief. My hand finds her head, and I rub her hair and make comforting noises.

“Thank you, Femi. Thank you.” She sobs and presses herself against me.

“It’s OK. We are going to try and talk to him.” I said meaning Abena and I will try to intervene with Kwesi.

“The bastard will not listen.” Wow, her paramour, to whom she was engaged to be married had been downgraded to a bastard level.


She was wearing a shimmering flimsy and true to tell, she wore no bra. Her hard nipples pressed tightly against me and she clings to me as though her very survival depends on my body warmth. One thing led to another and I found her tongue doing serious exploration in my mouth. Let’s not get pornographic, but I knew Naa.

“How long has this affair been going on.” My girlfriend wanted to know.

“Look… ehm, ehm, are we not being over dramatic here?”

“How long?” My girlfriend will not let go.

“Holy jumping horse! Look, it was just a fling.”

“And with my best friend?” Abena was driving the knife in.

I had no answer to that.

“Do you love her?”

“Holy shit! What are you driving at?”

“Your adultery.”

“Technically, it’s not adultery. Infidelity, yes. And I’m mightily sorry. Look, it was not something we planned.”

“It just happened.”

“You’re mighty right. It just happened. Talk of fate and circumstance.” I embellished it unnecessarily.

“So, if fate and the circumstance present themselves again, it’s bound to happen?”

“Hell, no! You are really not making this easy for me. Look, I am mightily sorry for what happened.”

“You didn’t answer me when I asked if you are in love with my best friend.” Abena accused me.

“What has love got to do with it?” I challenged her.

“Do you mean to tell me that you are perfectly capable of having sex with someone you do not love?”

“Any honest man will tell you that sex has absolutely nothing to do with love. Sex for the male is a purely physical thing.” I played the armchair psychologist.

“So you don’t love me either?”

“God Almighty! What are you driving at?”

“You just told me that women are purely a physical thing for you. And since I am a woman, I surmised that includes me as well”

“Holy smoke!” I ejaculated. “You surely have a way of twisting my words. Of course, I love you. I love you with all my heart.” I declared passionately.

“But you obviously do not love me well enough not to be giving it to my best friend.”

“Let’s say it was an accident that is never bound to happen ever again.”

“Are you going to marry her?” Abena teased and actually laughed. That was when I thought she was mellowing.

“Look,” I began and started walking towards her. If only I could reach and hold her. Press that lithe body into mine. Kiss those succulent lips and let my tongue explore those familiar territories. And listen to her whimperings, as I press hard into her and rub the small of her back. As she ground her loins into mine and whimper all those sweet nonsense. As I carry her into bed and prepare for those violent encounters that leave both of us spent and satiated. Everything is going to be all right. Everything is bound to be fine. Of course, you can do it, Femi. You have done it hundreds of times. It’s going to be fine, just fine. I psyched myself up mightily.

My hand reached and touched her breast. That was when she slapped my face.

©️Fẹmi Akọmọlafẹ

November 1, 2023

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