Nathanbiz Subliminal

🌿🌄 Embracing the Magic of Mother Nature! 🌄🌿

Hey there, nature enthusiasts! 🌳🌺 Let's take a moment to celebrate the breathtaking beauty that surrounds us every day. 🌞🌼

Today, I found myself lost in a mesmerizing sea of vibrant wildflowers, their colors dancing in the gentle breeze. 🌸🌼 The chirping of birds provided the perfect soundtrack to this natural symphony! 🐦🎶

As I hiked along the winding trails, I stumbled upon a hidden waterfall 🌊 tucked away in the heart of the forest. The sheer power of cascading water was both invigorating and humbling. 💧💫

But wait, there's more! 🏞️🌅 The sun's golden rays painted the sky in the evening, creating a masterpiece that no artist can replicate. 🌅🎨

Nature never ceases to amaze me with its boundless wonders. Let's cherish and protect this incredible planet we call home. 🌍💚

Share your recent nature escapades and spread the love for our beautiful Earth! 🌿✨

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This evening I got dressed in my best clothing. At around 4pm. I was already seated with my phone in my hands. I was waiting for her call to come in.

Even though the meeting with her was scheduled for 5pm, I had taken my bath very early just in case she chose to change the time. Well, I knew that was not going to happen. But the excitement of meeting her had made me prepare for the date like I was planning a flight abroad.

I stood up and walked around for a while. I laid on the bed. Stood up again and went to get myself a glass of cold water to keep my temperature stable.

And just when I decided to lie down, my phone rang.

It was her.

The judge.

The call I had waited for like the coming of Christ.

I cleared my voice and picked the call.

"Hello, ma."

"Praises."

"Yes. Good afternoon."

"How are are you?"

"Very fine."

"Are you preparing?"

"Yes, I am already set to move."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

She chuckled.

"What is the time?"

I pulled the phone from my ears and checked the phone screen.

"4:43pm."

"Wow. Okay, I will send my driver to come over and pick you. Or do you want to come over yourself?"

I swallowed.

All through the night, I had imagined myself sitting at the back seat of her exotic car. I had imagined leaning on the leather chair like the big man that I have always wanted to be. I told myself I was going to sleep in the car and take a lot of selfie with my phone while the driver drove. And if the journey became longer, I was going to sleep like a child. No, I won't sleep. I would look around and wave the trees, street poles, and all the citizens of Nigeria that I saw. The young and old.

"Hello, Praises."

Her voice wafted into my ears like a car horn.

I snapped out of my thoughts.

"Yes, ma."

"Yes what? Do I send my driver?"

"Yes. Driver."

"Okay. Send me your address. He will come pick you up immediately."

The call ended and like a trained typist, I punched my address and sent it to her. I stood up and cleaned the tiny rivulets of sweat from my forehead. Wore my neatly polished shoe and buttoned my black suit.

The driver was a short dark Calabar guy. From his looks, I could tell his tribe. He had this accent when he tried to say good evening to me.

"Maram say I should pick you for your house come house."

"Okay, are we going from there."

"Yes. Maram the baff when I leave house. But before we reach, maram go don finish. She no the waste time. Enter."

I jumped into the back seat before he could open the front door of the car for me. I wanted to live my dream. The driver didn't know. He simply shut the front door and changed gears.

While in the car, it dawned on me that I was already living the dream.

I wondered how the future will be like. How will it feel to be driven by a driver while you sit at the back of the car, legs opened, and give directions? How will it feel like to step down from the car or watch the door being opened for you to step down, while you are being saluted and led into your office or home?

I pulled out my phone to take a selfie when her call came in a second time.

I picked.

Excited.

"Hello..."

"Praises, has he picked you?"

"Yes. We are on our way now."

"Good. I am home waiting."

"Home?"

I doubt she heard my last words. The call ended too quickly before I could ask. Even though the driver had told me we were stepping out, the tone she used in telling me she was home, sounded like she had changed her mind about us going out.

I shook my head.

Dropped my phone and watched as the driver took the next turn.

A lonely dark street along Rayfield.

An area I was not sure I had ever been to before.

© Praises Chidera Obiora

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This particular lady I asked out some time ago, said she was going to think about it. She told me she just needed time to heal from her last heartbreak.

During that period I showered her with so much love and attention. I introduced her to my friends so she could feel at home and feel the vibe.

Three months later, I noticed she became very close to this particular friend of mine.

She will always ask me about him. Since my house was close to his house, she will go there to chill out and relax whenever she visited and I was not home.

He was my best friend so thoughts of them having anything in common never crossed my mind. That was how much I trusted him.

During this period I was also made to believe she was still thinking about us and trying to find a way to move on.

One day she came to tell me that she was dating my friend and they had just started dating two days back. That same evening my friend came to me and told me the same news. He said he asked Patricia out and she said yes to him.

Hmmm.

That was how I felt.

I had nothing to say.

I was broken.

My friend saw it.

He pleaded with me to forgive him. He said feelings grew along the line during their closeness together.

That evening, we cooked indomie and ate together.

Along the line, I met with Patricia's friend when they came to visit.

Her friend and I started vibing together.

We became really close and started hanging out.

One day, her friend came to me to tell me that they quarreled with Patricia and she even sent her out of her house.

I asked why?

She said Patricia was not in support of her hanging out with her ex-boyfriend.

I asked who was the ex-boyfriend and she said me.

Me how?

When did I become an ex?

I explained to her that Patricia was still thinking about us being together and that was when she met my friend. So when did I become an ex?

This is how ladies will be dating you in their minds without telling you.

Well her friend had to start avoiding me so that she doesn't lose her childhood friend Patrica.

During that period, I tried to make Patricia see reasons with me.

But she was as stubborn as a goat.

"Praises, I am a jealous type. Me and you once had something in common. We had feelings. I can't watch you date my best friend and hold and kiss her. No. We didn't officially date, like date, but what mattered was that there was feelings. I have told her, if she wants to still date you, then our friendship with her is over. Because that is betrayal."

"So you that is dating my best friend Nko?"

She looked away.

Eyes twitching.

"It's not like you complained or said anything. I told you I was dating your friend and you were just acting weak and powerless. You could not fight him or challenge him. You did not even show like you cared or wanted me by all means. So I went on to date him. But this is me saying I do not support you dating my best friend. I am not you. Case closed."

© Praises Chidera Obiora

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To say that I have been tense since I got back from the court is an understatement. I have been staring at the ten thousand naira I was given today by this woman whom I never knew from Adam.

This woman whom I met on this space and chatted just for a few days before moving on with my life.

Yes at that time I liked her. I was only crazy about shooting my shot at one whom I felt was a big fish. But then I decided to give it all up when I started suspecting that she was married.

I went through her profile and discovered her last post was in August 2019. She had posted a picture of her in her office seated in front of a laptop.

She was on my friend list and I could not remember who sent the friend request between the both of us.

While I stared at the complimentary card she had given me, I thought about calling her just as she had requested me to. I thought about what I was going to tell her. What were we going to talk about?

After an hour of thinking, I decided I was going to call and thank her for the cash gift. Share a little laugh, and that was it.

I dialed the number and it went through.

She missed my first call and I decided to give it a second try.

It rang.

She picked.

Coughed twice, and spoke like one who was having s*x while answering the phone.

"Hello..."

My heart skipped.

It was sharp and sudden.

"Hello, ma."

"Praises..."

"Yes... Yes, ma. How did you know it is me?"

"Of cause I know it's you. I was expecting your call."

"But you gave me a complementary card. So it could be anybody."

"O no. That is not a public one. That is my private card, carrying only my private number. I don't give that number to just anyone. Except for people I really want to talk with. I mean trusted people."

"Wow. Trusted?"

"Yes. Trusted. Or are you not a trusted fellow?"

I chuckled.

Gulped down saliva and cooed almost choking on my own words.

"I am trusted."

"Good. So how are you? How was your day?"

"My day went fine ma."

"Did you get your affidavit from the court?"

"Yes. O yes, I did. I left when you were just entering the courtroom."

"You saw me?"

"Yes, ma. I did. When the police was hitting the door thrice and the whole court stood up. I saw it all."

She laughed.

"That's how we do it here. It's a sign to show the judge is coming in."

"Yes, ma. I know. I have an experience with how the court system runs here."

"O really. That is good."

We went silent for some seconds. I was battling with what to say next. A topic to bring on. And just as she was about to speak, my words met hers.

"Thank you for today."

She paused.

And asked.

"Today?"

"Yes, ma. I mean for the money. I am extremely grateful. I didn't expect it."

She laughed.

"Funny you. That is is nothing. Praises I said I would love to talk to you. Tomorrow is my free day. I do not know your schedules. But if you are free, we could meet. Have a drink and talk."

I gulped down saliva and exhaled.

My heart raced faster than it did even before I called.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes... Will you be busy?"

"No ma. I will be free."

"Cool then. Is this your number?"

"Yes, ma. It is."

"Okay. I will give you a call tomorrow. I could send someone to pick you up so you come over."

"To where?"

"Emmm! Will Chills and Grills be a good place to eat and talk?"

"Yes, ma."

"Okay. Will 5pm be good? I do not like keeping late nights. So we should be back home by 7pm."

I nodded.

Like she was there with me.

"Yes. 5pm is a good time."

"Okay Praises. I will see you tomorrow and we would talk. I had a stressful day at the court today. I want to sleep now. We shall talk tomorrow."

"Okay, ma. Good night."

"Good night dear. Sleep well."

The call ended and I sucked in breath and exhaled deeply.

I was sweating and my palms were wet.

This is the first time I will be meeting with a woman of such type in Chills and Grills.

A place where only the high and wealthy eat from.

I am excited and scared at the same time.

Yet I do not know what I fear.

© Praises Chidera Obiora

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Social media has made people brush shoulders with each other o.

It has created equality between everybody.

We don't know who is who any longer and so we address people rudely, talk anyhow without according respect to them.

I stepped out this morning to the court to get an affidavit so I could correct some information on my BVN.

It was the magistrate court in town.

Just as I was heading to the register's office, this car horn sounded behind me.

I glanced back and it horned again.

Then a female voice followed.

"Praises."

I halted and turned.

It was a jeep.

Not an ordinary kind of jeep.

I mean correct highlander.

I waited to see who it was. Who had this kind of car and still knows Praises in this Jos?

While waiting, two policemen rushed to the car and saluted.

A female aid collected some files from the car and her handbag.

Then I saw a woman step down from the car.

Fair.

Tall.

Sweetly dressed in black and white.

She was smiling.

"Praises."

"Good morning ma."

"Morning. How are you?"

"Fine thank you."

"You don't know me? So you don't recognize my face?"

Her face looked familiar. I kept looking trying to recall who she was and where I had known her.

Then she asked.

"What are you doing here? You live in Jos?"

I said yes.

"I came to get an affidavit from the court." She smiled and nodded.

"I am excited to see you. I read your stories on Facebook. I am one of your biggest fans."

"Ah! Woww! Beautiful. Thank you ma."

"No thank you. Keep writing. You inspire me so much Praises. I am happy to see you. I am late for court sessions, wish we could talk more. But hopefully, we would meet again."

"Yes ma. We would meet again."

She instructed her aid to bring her bag. She collected it and pulled out ten thousand naira and gave it to me.

"Take this for transport."

Before I could say thank you. She pulled her card and handed it to me.

Call me just in case I forget to log in tonight.

We need to talk about you and those your compound people.

I laughed.

We both did.

I thanked her and watched in surprise as she walked into an office.

Two policemen followed her behind.

While stepping out of the register's office, I saw her entering the court.

A Policeman followed her behind.

The whole court stood up.

Then it dawned on me that she was the Chief Judge in the magistrate court.

I started shouting in my heart.

Yeeeee! Who have I been chatting with?

I returned home now and searched the name on the card just to see who I had met.

I saw her.

Her picture.

I recognized her.

I sent hello and discovered our last chat was in 2018 when I was still looking for girlfriend on Facebook.

From the chat, it seemed I was trying to chyke her small o.

I even told her I loved her eyes and nose and asked her if she was married or not.

I kept shouting yeeee! yeeee! yeeee! yeee!

Till now I can't stop shouting yeeeeee!

I wish I can log in and delete the chat from her phone.

Ahhhh!!!!!

Forget that thing.

Una no know how I feel now!

Yeeeeee!!!!!

I am finished.

© Praises Chidera Obiora

The first time a woman slept in my house was in 2014.

I was still living in my one-room apartment then and sharing the compounds toilet with the rest of the other tenants.

That night, from the way she acted, I knew she was not ready to go home. She would usually leave around 6 or 7pm when she visited. But this time, she stayed till 8pm and I knew it was about to go down.

I kept peeping through the window. I couldn't think of any polite way to ask her to leave my house.

I didn't even want to ask her if she will be spending the night because that will be an indirect offer to sleepover. She would gladly jump on the 'Yes' without thinking twice.

I kept reminiscing over my words.

"Do you want to sleep?"

"Are you not going home again?"

"I think you should be going home."

"I think night has do, come and be going."

"It is dark o. Madam come and go to your father's house."

"Hello, I don't understand why you are still watching movies on my phone? Be going home."

"Rita, you will likely not get a taxi home, so you should be going now."

Well, I chose the last statement. Tapped Rita who was strongly pressing her phone and said to her in the most polite tone.

"Rita, taxi may be scarce by this time. I think you should be going so you can arrive on time."

Rita turned to me. Her eyes glaring into mine.

"I know. Or do you want to send me away? You want me to go?"

I shook my head.

The problem was not Rita sleeping over. The major problem was my neighbors. How will they react when they see me taking her to the bathroom to ease herself or to the toilet to do business. Rita would most likely be wearing my shirt and boxer and the whole tenants will have breaking news to talk about for a week.

I didn't want that for myself.

She turned to the window.

"Praises, it's late already. I will be spending the night. Tomorrow I will go."

My heart skipped.

Fear was there.

But a joy somehow sneaked in.

That was when I knew Obi is no longer a boy.

Obi had become a man.

Apart from the fear of my neighbors seeing us, a part of me wanted to experience it.

How does a girl sleep in a guy's house? What was the feeling like? How does it feel to cuddle?

Night came and Rita's presence in my house began to answer my many questions. I felt like a big boy when she decided to cook us dinner. Then she laid beside me and held me tight. We were like a bunch of money strapped together with a rubber band.

It felt good.

Especially when her buttocks were pressed against my manhood.

And her soft arms rubbed my back.

The problem came when Rita suddenly slept off while we watched TV. I kept staring at her and admiring her. At a point, I stood up and started jumping.

I didn't know why I did.

It was my first time. It felt like I had acquired a brand new car and parked it right in my bedroom. The feeling was like one who had just built a new house and had moved inside. Rita in my house felt like I had brought in a new mansion into my small one-bedroom apartment.

At exactly 1am I noticed Rita was not moving. She had not turned left or right. Her breathing was very slow. I couldn't even tell if she was breathing, or if it was me breathing on her.

Her body was stiff.

I tapped Rita.

She didn't move.

I tapped her again.

Tapped her even harder.

Slapped her seven times.

Shook her like a tree with ripe mangoes.

Rita's eyes were still closed.

I stood up.

My body shaking.

Eyes watery.

I rushed to the door and checked to see if I had locked it.

Returned to Rita and started shaking her again.

Rita was dead.

Dead before my very eyes.

I began to shudder. I began to shake.

I thought of dumping her body in a pool. I thought of throwing her somewhere on the road and running back home. I thought of so many things. Then I remembered the noisy gate that could draw the attention of anyone. I remembered the security man in charge of the street.

My body went cold.

Frozen like a pack of meat in a freezer.

I cried.

Cried for hours.

10mins past five, a hand tapped me.

I opened them.

It was Rita.

Standing right in front of me.

I shuddered backward.

"Praises, I want to ease myself?"

I turned to the bed.

It was empty.

So this was Rita.

I didn't know whether to laugh, jump, or celebrate.

I stared at her.

Eyes transfixed.

Not blinking.

Not even for once.

"Praises, I want to p**s."

I nodded.

I stood up and opened the door.

It was better to take a living woman to the toilet, than a dead body.

What is P**s that you cannot p**s in the compound?

And when it was daybreak, I walked Rita to the bathroom to have her bath.

Everyone saw us.

I didn't mind.

If only they knew what I had been through during the nighttime, they will realize that this was nothing compared to what I would have faced if Rita had not woken up.

© Praises Chidera Obiora

A chapter of my book THE MYSTERIOUS ALPHA

Nelly sprawled shirtless on the gray L-shaped sofa in his rented flat as he watched money heist series on the flat-screen television—well, actually, he was pretending to watch the television. On the real, he was surreptitiously watching Dalia as she puttered about in the kitchen, balancing a cookbook in one hand as she tried to bake him a cake.

She had no idea what she was doing, and when he offered to help, she shooed him away. His fiery little girlfriend was hell-bent on getting that cake baked. And he was enjoying watching her make a flustered mess of herself.
When he’d picked her up earlier, he planned to grab something to eat, take her shopping on Robertson Boulevard and then see a movie. Of course, her choice of food was pepperoni pizza—she was a pizza maniac.

But as soon as they’d finished at the pizzeria she began whining that it was his birthday and it wasn’t right to do things for her on his day. She wanted to do something for him, like bake a cake.

At first, he’d been upset and tried to convince her otherwise, because she always, always seemed to find a reason not to take things from him, and all he wanted to do was give her the world. Sometimes he had to remind himself this was Dalia he was dealing with and not those uppity, fake-nosed, Barbie doll rich brats his father deemed worthy of him.

Those chicks spoke only of the latest brands, the next new car, the current hip restaurant, or club. Dalia, on the other hand, was real. All of her. She had dreams, she had passion, she had direction. And he could see those dreams were what she held onto, with unyielding hope.
One wouldn’t expect someone in her position to be so full of pride, but she was. Pride’s not usually attractive…but on Dalia, it was.

He wondered many times what went on in that beautiful head of hers. What she thought of him. What she thought of them as a couple. What she envisioned their future to be. Did she believe, like he strongly did, that they’d be together to the grave? Or did she just view him as a teenage crush? Did she know, like he undoubtedly knew, she was the one? Or did she expect him to leave her one day for someone else?

He knew he was thinking like a big, worn-out p***y, but he couldn’t help it when it came to Dalia. Yeah, that’s right, she turned him into a p***y. And he had no problem with that.
He was laughing to himself as he watched her, stirring batter in a large stainless steel bowl, flour spots on her nose and forehead. She’d changed from her sundress into one of his white T’s and boxers, her mass of curls barely holding back with a hair tie, showing off her long, graceful neck he loved so much.

He wanted to lick his tongue all over it, suck on her smooth, soft skin, and mark her.
The emotion he had at the moment was far more powerful than ‘love’. Love, however, was the strongest word out there to describe his feelings, so he had no choice but to call it love. The intense, burning, searing feeling, he also knew was unhealthy.

But he was going to marry this girl. He swore to it.This girl would be his wife. And he would love her with everything he had. Until his last breath.

The doorbell rang, tugging him from his girly, overly emotional thoughts. Dalia was deeply concentrated on her mixing, her pink tongue tipping over her lower lip, her brows furrowing, so he lazily stretched up from the sofa, tugged his ball cap backward on his head, and went to answer the door.

He almost slammed the door shut when he found Tanya there, gazing up at him under her lashes, with a sultry smile and a gift box in her hand. Dressed in a very short, very tight red dress and make-up galore. Way too glamorized for this hour of the day.

“Darren’s not here,” he said quickly.
When he made to close the door, she stopped it with her free hand and rolled her eyes. “I’m here to see you, silly.” Holding the gift box out to him, she lilted, “Happy Birthday!”

Glancing down at the box, he predicted there was either a framed picture of her inside or a stack of n**e ones. Chicks were conceited like that. “You know I can’t accept that, Tanya.”
Taking a step closer to him, she pouted her glossy lips. “Why not?”
“’Cause Dalia’ll have my balls, that’s why.”

She took another step closer, pressed one hand to his bare chest, and whispered, “She doesn’t have to know. Let me in, Nelly. I can do things to you that inexperienced child can’t.” Before he could stop her, she flicked her tongue over one of his ni***es.
“No one has to know. Her nor Darren. It’ll be our secret.”

Grabbing her arm, he flung her back. “She will know because she’s here. And I’d never lie to her. I’m hers. I’m not up for—”
The door ripped from his grip as Dalia squeezed her way past him. Stopping to face Tanya she hissed, “I was here. Now I’m leaving. He’s free. Give him the birthday gift I can’t,” and ran off. S**t.

Nelly shoved Tanya out of the way and ran to grab Dalia around her waist. Lifting her combating body off the ground, he turned and headed back to his flat, ducking his head to prevent himself from getting whacked from her flailing arms.

Tanya stood at his doorway, a smug smile on her face.
“Be fu***ng gone, Tanya!” he barked at her.
Stepping across his threshold, he kicked the door shut while trying to control a screaming, skirmishing Dalia. “Chill out, babe.”

“Don’t tell me to chill out, you…you…” she railed. “Let me go! I hate you!”
Ignoring that, he carried her back into the kitchen and set her down on the counter, wedging himself between her thighs and wrapping his arms around her in an inescapable lock.

Dalia dug her fingernails in his flesh, yanked hard on his braids, sank her teeth into his skin… As painful as her abuses were, he pretended not to feel a thing. Eventually, she gave up fighting, folded her arms, and spat, “I hate you.”

Staring straight into her eyes, which were saying the complete opposite of hate, he demanded to know, “Why do you hate me?”
Breaking eye contact with him, she began fi*****ng her long curls that escaped the hair tie during her little episode. “Because if I wasn’t here, you would’ve…you would’ve…”

Unlocking his hands from around her waist, he brought them up to her face. “I wouldn’t have done anything, Dalia. What part of ‘I’m yours’ don’t you understand?”
“I…but…I don’t know how…” she stuttered, “...she’s right, Nelly. She’s better for you. She’s older and experienced. I’m not. I can’t even bake you a damn cake.”

“Who says that’s what I’m looking for? What I want is right here. In my eyes, you aren’t lacking. You’re just perfect. For me. You’re mine, baby. Mine. I love you.”
He turned to the cake batter on the counter, dipped a finger inside, and licked it off. “Tastes just fine to me. All you need to do is pour it into the baking pan, toss it in the oven, and voila! You’ve baked me a cake. You. ”

She giggled, and the sound was downright amazing. But just as quickly, the sound was gone as her face became clouded and troubled again. She opened her mouth as if to say something then closed it, shaking her head against her thought.

“What is it?”
Twining the ends of his braids around her fingers, she whispered, “We’re young, Nelly. So young. Do you think you’ll still feel the same way about me a couple of years from now? It’s…it’s what I’m most afraid of. That this won’t be…forever. ”

Nelly hugged her slim, delicate frame, and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
“I’ll never stop loving you, Dalia. Ever.”

He thought he heard a sob escape her, but he didn’t check to be sure. He was too caught up in squeezing the life out of her, holding on as if she would just p**f and disappear at any minute. While he could control a lot of things, here and now, he had no control over the future. And now she’d gone and planted it in his mind that there might be a future without her.

He cried.
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So today I was in the bus seated beside this lady who had buttocks which was the size of two rivers. At some point, I felt I was being suffocated. She held a bag on her lap.

As the journey continued, she turned to me.

Smiled.

Sweetly.

"Good morning sir."

"Good morning."

"Em sir, I want to market my product to you."

"Okay. Beautiful. I admire this strategy. This is what I advise young people to always do. Never fail to market your product because you do not know who will buy from you."

She smiled.

"Thank you, sir."

"So what do you sell?"

"Sir I sell concoction."

"You sell concoction?"

"Yes sir."

I looked at the bag she was holding. I swallowed saliva.

I tried to move back but there was no space.

"Okay so go on."

She smiled.

Happy that I had given her the chance to finally flow.

"Thank you, sir. But before I continue, please don't be offended sir, are you married?"

"Married?"

She saw the look on my face. Then she continued to explain.

"Okay, sir. The reason I asked is because I sell P***s boosters. This thing I sell is something I inherited from my grandmother when I went to visit her in the village. This was the thing she gave my father, who ended up marrying 17 wives and giving birth to 43 children."

"43 children? Your father?"

"Yes sir. And my mother is the last born."

I nodded my head.

"So sir, this concoction is a natural p***s booster sir. If you have a small dick, sir. Sorry, I am using harsh words like dick and p***s but this is my line of business. This is how I can flow and express myself easily, sir. So if you have small dick sir, you can drink three cups of this in the morning before you begin pump action with your woman and it will rise like bread that they tie rope come draw. It will be very long. Secondly, sir, this concoction can make you last very long in bed. If you see my grandmother now, she doesn't walk well again. In fact, all my father's wives no one use to walk well because of the fire he gave them during their youth. Presently five have died. He now has 9 wives and he is giving them Jagabantis back to back."

My eyes opened.

"Yes sir. So the reason I was asking if you are married is because when you buy this, you know we always like our customers to test our product to confirm before they pay. So if you are married, you can drink this and test on your wife tonight. I assure you, you will come back for more sir. I swear to God. But if you don't have a wife, and you are a single brother just the way I am a single sister, you will pay for testing service. My company will offer you a girl that you can test this on. All you need to do is to fill this form and I will be there."

At that moment I became a siren.

"Wow wow wow wow wow wow wow."

She started laughing.

"Yes sir. And this our service you don't need to fear about losing your money, sir. It is test before payment. So once you buy our product, we give it to you to use between 24hrs. You can now pay us after using. We only want you to enjoy correct customer service experience."

"Kai..."

"Yes sir."

I collected the form and looked at it.

"So how many people are in your company?"

"For now is just me sir. I am just starting this business. But with time as the market keeps flowing I intend to employ more hands to help me out."

I loved the boldness she had.

So I told her I was taking one bottle of her concoction to encourage her business.

"Thank you, sir. You are my first customer today. You are a very kind and handsome man sir. Sir, are you married or single? I am asking because of the customer service we want to offer you so you can test the product to see how powerful our concoction is. I can give you my number sir to book an appointment and a discount for the service. Who knows, I may even offer the service for free."

© Praises Chidera Obiora