Baba Nbadan raced through the album and his respect for Lady K shot up. The beauty of Lady K in her teenage, adult and middle age marvelled Baba Nbadan. He noted the gorgeous breasts. The pouting lips. The round, big, protruding bum beloved by amorous men who could swear by the titillating joy embedded in such bottom.
By Taju Tijani
Lady K gave her old and rough photo album to Kola. It was like the rise and fall of a promising destiny cut down through the grinding demand of London life. The album contained the essentials of Lady K from prominence among the London glitterati to her eventual payback time of abandonment to a one-bedroom flat in Finchley. The greying pages of the red album contained it all. The evolution of the memory of the good times and the bad. Memories are now memorials in the mind of Lady K as she sat watching Yoruba films on YouTube.
Kola was riled by emotion as he looked through the ebb and flow of Lady K’s earthly exploits. The evergreen moments of true riches, the glamour, the parties, the travels across Europe, America and Dubai. The romances with diplomats, military generals, politicians, corporate moguls and accomplished businessmen. Some still alive.
Some of her past liaisons had gone to meet their maker. Some are still calling the shot in Nigeria. She had some Otunbas in her hall of romantic conquests. They all came, at a time in the past, to pay amorous obeisance to the truly magical beauty of Lady K.
Lady K was born in Isale Eko. Father and mother were from the Awori kingdom. She is a fanatical Lagosian. A proudly Lagosian woman who could not hide that proud identity from anyone. Elegant, classy, loud, jovial, sexy, flirty and an unrestricted lover of life to the fullest. Her flat was drenched in Gucci designs. The bed board, the dining table and chairs, the bed coverings, the living room cushions were all dressed in Gucci. The bathroom slippers, the wall clock and the carpet covering the vinyl floor were all Gucci. Her vanity dressing table harbours two famous Gucci perfumes: Oud and Bloom. Her coffee jug was Gucci. There was a beautiful chandelier to give light to her warm flat.
Now a pensioner. Age may have mellowed her bohemianism but not the zest for life. She goes to the salon to do majestic Ghana weave designs on her head; she dances regularly, still travels a lot and has no regard for austere living. She wears the latest designer cuts both from London and Lagos. She is an active animal on social media and worships TikTok comedy skits for long, throaty laughs. She is a straight talker who could not condone hypocrisy and social pretences.
Kola tossed the photo album at Baba Nbadan. He nestled in a corner absorbing all the glitter and glamour of Lady K’s haven of peace and rest. Baba Nbadan raced through the album and his respect for Lady K shot up. The beauty of Lady K in her teenage, adult and middle age marvelled Baba Nbadan. He noted the gorgeous breasts. The pouting lips. The round, big, protruding bum beloved by amorous men who could swear by the titillating joy embedded in such bottom. Her greying hair which still look glamorous.
“Do you know that I was brought here by a diplomat?” Lady K began. Baba Nbadan looked curiously.
“My mum was a gold seller in Oke Arin in Lagos Island. After school, I will go and sit with her in the shop and watch the sales. My dad was self-employed as a contactor and had many apprentices that worked with him. He used to carry out repairs at the homes of rich Europeans and Nigerians in Ikoyi and Victoria Island. I lived with my parents and two male siblings in a three-bedroom flat in Ofin area of Lagos. Then Lagos was wonderful. We had it all. My brothers used to be partakers in Eyo and they both wore Onisemo regalia. Life was good, laid back and crime free. My mum made money from gold business and my dad too was successful as a contractor,” Lady K went into her family background.
Then…
“After my WAEC, I began to assist my mum in her gold business as a full-time assignment pending my next academic career. I was bigger for my age and had grown a very seductive body. As a youngster, I was a Xerox copy of my mum. I was plum, big and well-endowed in all the erogenous zones beloved by men. Older men flirted openly with me. I brushed their amorous advances away. Even, my teachers wanted to lure me into sex by giving me expensive gifts, but I rejected their inappropriate advances. Local boys would gather in front of our house waiting for me to go out. I was afraid of messing up because my father was a disciplinarian. He kept warning me of the danger of illicit sex and unwanted pregnancy under his roof. I listened as an obedient daughter who had been pampered from birth by a responsible father.”
Until…
The rain would not stop. It rained cat and dog and the driving wind was unbearable. Hurriedly Lady K had secured the three display gold cabinets and took them into the inner part of the shop.
READ ALSO: Goddy: From London to Ladipo Market
A man ran to the steps of the shop to seek shelter from the rain. Lady K’s mum was trapped at home by the rain. The stranger looked dashing, young, confident and wore a gold rimmed glass. He had a small gold ring on his smallest left finger. He shared pleasantries with Lady K and complimented her beauty. He explained who he was and asked if Lady K would want to go to England with him. The stranger who was a diplomat tempted Lady K.
The arrival in England by Lady K was circuitous. She had to come through Belgium. The flight was uneventful. She thought the long delay in Belgium was a bad omen of what was to come in England. The diplomat had been waiting at the Heathrow airport to welcome his raw beauty from Nigeria. There was no mobile phone then to figure out what was happening. He just tarried at the airport in high expectation. He had brought a beautiful winter coat for Lady K.
The romantic whirlwind with Lady K started immediately Lady K set her foot on London soil. Champagne party was hurriedly organised at a posh hotel in the Wet End. The diplomat was besotted and proudly showed her beautiful Nigerian trophy to envious friends in the diplomatic community. At 1.00am a taxi took the diplomat and Lady K to the flat rented in advance by the philanderer.
Baba Nbadan had finished roaming on the pictures of Lady K. He passed it back to Kola who was now dosing on the three-seater, soft, leather Gucci settee. “Madam, bawo lese ncope pelu Ilu wa yi,” Baba Nbadan asked curiously. “Ha, kila ma se. Emi ma ngbadun ara mi…Kilo kan mi kan iranu,” she responded. “Lady K, are you not interested in going back to Nigeria…ile labo simi oko.” “Nigeria ke, actually I travel to Nigeria thrice a year to see my relations and friends.” Baba Nbadan gave Lady K a penetrating and probing look. He wanted to dig deep on the life and times of Lady K. “How about your kids,” Baba Nbadan asked. Lady K was uneasy at that question. Tears formed in her eyes. She knew that question would be asked. Mustering courage, she answered Baba Nbadan.
“The diplomat who brought me here used me as sex slave for years. He warned and threatened me not to ever get pregnant. He did not tell me that he had a wife in London and children. He made me a side chick and catered for all my needs. He placed me on weekly salary that was more than enough. He furnished my flat tastefully and later he bought one for me. He introduced me to visiting top Nigerian generals and rich businessmen. I became a society girl catering for the lust of the diplomat. I knew nobody in London that I could speak to. I was equally enjoying the glamour and the circle of these powerful men. I cheated steadily on the diplomat just to pay him back in his own coin and had illicit affairs with some of his rich and powerful friends. They could not resist me.”
Kola knew Lady K’s awful story. He woke up and rose to go. He looked in the direction of Baba Nbadan. He gestured to Kola that he was not leaving yet. He wanted to see an end to the life journey of Lady K. Baba Nbadan adjusted himself on the Gucci chair and looked in shock at Lady K. He wondered; how could this be?
Lady K went to the toilet and later realised that Kola had left. “Ha, ore ti lo ni,” he asked Baba Nbadan. “Oti lo ma.”
“I spent 15 years as a society girl with that man before we parted. I later got a job in the kitchen of the famous Pentonville Prison out of boredom. I was free of mortgage but was bored and was looking to be active. I spent 13 years with the prison before I was retired on the ground of disability. I fell twice on the stairs. I got accident at work pay.”
The diplomat denied Lady K exposure to education. He blinded her with gifts and travel around Europe. His insecurity and fear of losing Lady K to the amorous advances of lecherous Londoners allowed the diplomat to keep Laky K in seclusion and cut off from making friends. He oppressed her with his position, power and access to privileges. Now old, lonely, disabled and with no friends, Lady K clung to her past like a vice. She knew she made mistakes. She enjoyed her many champagne moments but today the drinks are dried. She sat in her Gucci-draped Fichley flat rebuilding her geriatric passage in silence.
The phone rang. “Baba Nbadan ba mi mu fonu yen,” he asked. “Haba, why have you not called,” she asked the caller. “Mummy, I’m sorry for not calling last Saturday. I was busy with assignment at the uni.” “I was wondering, it was unlike you, Lakunle.” Lady K got Lakunle through adoption in the UK. She packed him off from London to Nigeria for his secondary school. Now in private university, Lakunle is the apple of Lady K’s eyes. She loves Lakunle with her blood.
“Baba Nbadan, get me my walking stick, near the door. I want to go to the shop to do my shopping,” Lady K asked. Baba Nbadan and Lady K walked out of the flat unto Finchley High Road. Lady K walked slowly dragging herself because of the oversized bum that now sends pains to her legs. The bottom that had delighted many high society men is today a burden. The society woman who once dined and wined with moguls, military big boys, diplomats and wealthy businessmen is today facing the greatest battle of her life – as a forgotten, aged and disabled British who is learning to walk alone. All alone.
