Seeing You Again

It was a relief to see a familiar face that evening. I could still see those curly hairs adorning her legs. The spots on her face had almost cleared off, leaving behind faint spots that blended with her color.      

I waited until the ‘ten-commandments’ where read and we proceeded to the kitchen area to collect our food. We were supposed to retire to our room and eat as it was against their rule to eat at the common room. We also were to return to the common room for night prayers.      

“it’s good to see you again.” I said to her when we met at the kitchen.      

“you look good, service year is really nice to you.” She replied with a smile on her face. She wasn’t the first that had commented on that. I felt I had started putting on more flesh.      

“it’s nice to see you too.” She continued. “This place was becoming as boring as hell.” She said.      

“how long have you been here?” I asked her.      

“two weeks.” She replied. The accommodation provided for me by my ppa is worse off; no light, no water, nothing. So I spend more days here and few days there.” She concluded.      

Holding our plates of porridge yam in our hands and still standing at the kitchen area, we talked and laughed. It was obvious she needed someone to talk to. Seems she hardly met people of her kind at the family house.      

After long minutes of talking, we had to move to our rooms to eat our food. We agreed to meet outside the family house after the food before the night prayers.      

We met at a shop opposite the family house.      

We stayed at the shop and discussed. We talked about virtually everything. She commented on my HIV story at the platoon get together. She said it really touched her a lot.      

I asked if she was taking part in the safety training and she said she wasn't.      

“I've already enrolled for the NIM management course and will be seating for my exams in a month’s time.” She said.      

“This service year is a total waste!” She proclaimed. I was surprised to hear such from her. She looked happy when we met at the Nostalgia few months back.      

“The only fun in this scheme is the three weeks we spent at camp.” She said.      

I've heard such from many corpers. I didn't share their opinion; maybe because I was among the very few that had the opportunity of a nice ppa. I found out that corpers generally prefer the three weeks camping, mostly because they don't have to be bordered of what to eat, wear or where to go. Its three weeks of wearing the same cloth and being fed by the federal government and adhering to rules on what to do and where to be at. 

When they finally leave camp and is faced with the ppa, with no free food, accommodation and cloth with mostly the token federal government allowance to depend on, they start hating the scheme.       

For me, service year was good, very good. It had exposed me to people of different culture, customs, traditions, religion and also to variety of girls.       

What more can a brother ask for? Said the first loud voice in my head.      

It is also about to make you a daddy! Said that whispering voice.      

I shrugged it off immediately. I didn’t need any weird thoughts to spoil this evening.       

“We need to get back, else we will miss the night prayers.” She said to me.      

“Who cares about prayers?” I asked rhetorically.      

“You need to care about them because the NCCF officials don’t take it lightly with people missing the prayers.” She said.      

“Then I will claim to be a Muslim.” I said jokingly and she laughed. The laughter was a little bit stretched and I wondered if it was the small joke I made that was making her to laugh so loud.      

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed having a decent conversation.” She said.      “Is it that bad?” I asked.      

“Yes, and its mostly lonely these days.”      

“I’m here now.” I said, so we don’t need to rush back for a religious praying session.” I said.      

She kept quite like she was thinking it through. Then she nodded her head and we continued our chat.      

When we returned to the family house, the prayer session was almost over. We sneaked in through the back and joined up like little mischievous children who had just succeeded in playing a prank. We exchanged stares intermittently and smiled to ourselves.     

 After the prayers, we stayed back at the common room and continued our discussion. From her talks, it was obvious she hated the family house but is just making do with it. 

She informed me that she regrets coming to lokoja, the capital.      

“Most of the ppa’s here don’t give accommodation, cost of living in this city is terrible, and at the day time, the sun makes you want to cry.”      

Yea, I knew about the sun. It was as hot as hell itself. I consoled her with the fact that service year was almost through, with barely three months remaining.   The room was very bright, like they intentionally put on bright bulbs there. The tv was showing a channel of Christian Broadcasting Network (CBN) as they aired the 700 club.      

“Isn’t there any other channel showing here?” I asked.      

“You dare not touch the remote controllers here. Its either CBN or CBN or CBN.” She said and laughed at her joke. I slipped my hand across her back and rested it there. She moved uncomfortably, like my hand was making her uncomfortable.      

“They have strict rules here.” She whispered to me.       

“Really?’ I asked non-challantly. “What’s the worse that could happen?” I asked her.      

She didn’t reply, rather she relaxed back on the chair. There were two other guys at the common room and a lady far at the other end who couldn’t possibly see it. The two brothers were obviously deep in their conversation and didn’t notice us.      

I moved my hands gently and caressed her back. She drew closer to me and I ran my hand through her legs, feeling each touch of those curly hairs. It was like a dream come through for me; I had always wondered what the feel of those hairs will be like. Now I got the answers; the feeling was one I couldn’t describe. It sent sparks of endless passions over me, giving me a hard on. She must have noticed the huge bulge from between my legs pressing against her.       

She tried to move away a bit, but I held her closer. I loved the feeling I was getting, the hairs as they rise and fall as my hands run through them. I moved my hand over to her laps, rubbing the inside of her laps skillfully. She drew closer, her eyes wide shut. My d’kk was getting harder by each stroke and her eyes were shut, with her head leaning on my chest.       

Maybe, just maybe, she should have kept those eyes open. From behind me came a voice.      

“What are you guys doing?”      

The voice sounded harshly inside the common room and echoed inside my ear, it was a guy’s voice, strong and firm.      

She opened her eyes immediately and moved away from me while I retrace my hands which were all over her. She looked above my shoulders and I gradually turned my face so I could see the owner of the voice. . .

***************************

Lectures started the next day.      

It was an educating and expository lecture. We filled the common room as lecture material were shared and the lecturers mounted the stage to give tutorials. It was divided into two sessions: morning and afternoon with a lunch break in between. After the morning session, I and Ita went outside to the shop to talk as usual.      “How is the lecture going?” she asked as we settled down.      

“Great, I’m loving every bit of it.” I said.      

She said she had the same feeling about the NIM management course but nearly dropped out mid-session.       

“What happened?” I asked.      

“Nothing. I just lost the zeal and wanted to quit the program. But I’m happy I didn’t, at least I will be having another certificate apart from my nysc certificate when I’m through with service year.” She said.      

A corper walked into the shop and ordered for snacks with a familiar voice. I remembered his face and voice almost immediately.      

“Do you remember that guy?” I asked and she looked up, saw the guy and started smiling. I had to smile with her. He was the guy that owned the voice.       

It happened that the strong voice was directed at the other two guys talking at the common room. When I looked up with fear, I was surprised that the guy wasn’t even looking at our direction. He was addressing the two guys sitting at the other end of the common room and later went up to join them. He literarily scared the sh.it out of both of us.      

“Admit it, you were scared.” She said.      

“No I wasn’t.” I lied again.      

Truth was, we both were scared when we heard the voice and we acted on reflex, pulling away from each other like we were like poles of the same magnet.