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Kuku’s Nest. Episode 04

“I want bras”

Mum studied my face to figure out if I was joking. I looked back at her matter of factly. Then she looked at my chest. There were two agbalumo seeds dotting it on the left and right. She stared at them, craning her head this way and that, perhaps wondering if there was an internal manifestation that had missed her naked eyes and casual glance. After what I thought was a sufficient forever she looked up at my face again.

“What do you want a bra for?”

Hunh?!

I had two fleshy hills sitting on my previously drawing-board flat chest. I had breasts! Real. Live. Breasts! Bras were for breasts, my dorm girls had said.

Bras = breasts

Dupe = breasts

. · . Dupe = bras

It was too simple for Mum to still be asking what I wanted bras for! I mentally checked if I’d been a bad girl. Mum was obviously deliberately playing dumb to punish me for something. She did it often, drove me crazy so I could see how annoying it was when I drove her crazy. Tried hard as I did, my head said I’d been a good girl. A very good girl, in fact! I’d been buttering Mum and Dad up ahead of my new improved senior secondary school big-girl list.

My lips began to tremble.

“Ahh anhhh. Modupeola?”

Mum pulled me to her laps (nobody should say how I was claiming big girl yet went to Mum’s laps. I was still new at the “big” business mbok). I placed my head on her breasts. It was cushiony, so soothing, I forgot all about being big. This was Mum and I’s best posture for having the toughest conversations.

“All the girls brought bras during first term Mummy. Michelle used to give me one of her bras on Friday nights so I too could be among, but you always say I shouldn’t wear other people’s clothes so I thought you’ll want to buy me my own”

“Do you still like your singlets?”

“Not the long ones. They’re old school. I now like only the short ones”

“Okay. We’ll buy only the short ones but we won’t buy bras. Bras are for grown breasts, to support them. If you start using bras now your breasts won’t grow again. Do you want that?”

My jaw fell, horror screamed from my widened eyes. All my dorm girls had jugs. Not my agbalumo business but swingy jugs! I had dreams of growing to jug level too so the butt-of-small-boobs-jokes would stop being my portion.

I agreed with Mum quickly.

“Yes, singlets. I don’t want bras again. Bra is not good for me. Let’s buy many singlets.”

#MomentsAndMemories #AdolescentTales

 

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Kuku’s Nest. Episode 03

06:45 a.m
Dad:
“What are you cooking this morning?”
Dupe:
*yawns*
“Sleep”
Dad:
“You stayed up all night, didn’t you? Okay”
*Pecks sweet dreams on Dupe’s upturned cheek*

09:30 a.m
*Looking-delicious Sir Beardy shifts slightly out of kiss range. Dupe moves towards him again but just as her lips are about to touch his he moves. Again! She scowls, then realises it’s her own body moving left and right out of the kiss. Outraged, she opens her eyes. Dad is sitting on the bed beside her, rocking her body gently*
Dupe:
*frowns*
Dad:
“Ma binu (Don’t be angry). I’ve fried you eggs and plantain. Come and eat before worms eat your stomach. You can return to sleep after”
* * *
Dreamland Sir Beardy’s lips looked yummy. Pink. Firm. Nibble inviting… so darn promising!😣😥 But shey you see the handiwork of #VillagePeepu, sleep has refused to come back! Wassall dis?!!!

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Kuku’s Nest. Episode 02

Uncle Ex:

“Let me teach you to drive”

Dupe:

“With a Jeep? So I’ll now jam something and… Alakoba!”

Sir Beau:

“Girl come and learn to drive na”

Dupe:

“With a Benz? So I can use all my money on petrol? Why not fear God?”

Dupe:

*sitted at Daddy’s feet, facing him*

“Daddy shebi you know I’m old enough to drive now. When would you start teaching me?”

Daddy:

*jaw drops*

“You didn’t forget that discussion? Since 2004?!”

*Dupe frowns, looks like a child whose ice-cream suddenly vanished *

“Aah Modupe mi, ma binu.”

*reaches hands out, cuddles her*

“You should have known I’m too impatient to teach you to drive”

*Song about a broken heart resumes in background*

 

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Humans of Abeokuta. Episode 5

“Aff you aff an idea ayam like you?”

Her cheekbones lifted the fleshy puff-puff encasing them, sent them to greet her eyes. Her lashes lowered, sent her gaze to the tarred road. Her fingers twiddled nervously, caressing themselves awkwardly. Her teeth appeared then, bit her lower lips softly, suggested a deliciousness in their luscious pinkness.

His lower jaw fell open just as his right hand rose to his head. His nails scratched his hair, he shook his head, then spread his left leg wider. A stance to communicate the confidence he hoped for?

“Ayam liking you too, but you Oga”

A sound rose from him. Nervous. Like the first cackle of fighting chickens. Then the night wind blew, the cotton shirt hugged his body, tickled the curled hairs on his chest. They had not been there when I was a boy, he must have remembered. The cackle deepened as his fears dissolved, became a rich dark rumble of stomach-deep pleasure.

It was then that his shirt shook. Up and down with the rhythm of his laughter, it went. Vibrations of a stomach so big, it was a life of its own.

I turned to my little Sister then. I affn’t affed an idea, before that night, how interesting it could be to watch people initiate conversations of love.

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For Woman

Darn cosmetics have you looking like a crow
Or was it the eyes that watched from the mirror?
The world’s hot hurt and humped on your ass
Or is it words your read off Twitter and media?

Hello, elemental force of life and creation
Let me whisper the world’s secrets in your ears
While you moan, scream silken satisfaction in mine
Let me worship, lick molten honey off your pulsing altar

Salutations! Goddess of time and tide
Royal divinity, wherein lies my destiny?
Your blussoming buxom bussom, crystals
Take homage. Grant visions of my fated path

-For You, Woman