Master: Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the prettiest of them all?
Mirror: I beg you, Master, please forget it. Even if I show her to you, it will be a futile whetting of your appetite. Her class, you cannot maintain. Her fervour, you cannot contain.
* * *
Abochie was suffering. The thirty-four-year-old in Level 400, had finally found himself accommodation on campus, only to battle the strongest temptation of his life.
His biggest challenge was this : the campus girls were too fine. Smokin’ hot! Gorgeous! Inviting! He was spellbound by the variety, smitten by their sophistication. Though he had managed to avoid those intelligent course mates of his during lectures, he couldn’t help but internalize and ruminate on the wondrous blessings that roamed the winding streets of the campus.
His mouth always run dry anytime he tried to talk to them. He basically froze: He had endured years of mockery from his schoolmates; embarrassing pressure from his family; intense self-rebuke; and had assumed rejection from those he’d barely spoken to.
This intense urge, desire and drive, coupled with his firm principles, led him to assume a disposition of sorts…
He wore a bushy goatee, only competing in size with his Adam’s apple; and shades he did not need, to hide his ever roaming gaze. Diminutive as he was, his belt was always above his navel.
But the austere look was a decoy, from the appallingly rampant erections that bedeviled this prayer warrior. He kept to himself, and made sure his nose was always buried in one book or another.
All this, was to suppress this age old handicap.
But the month of February has a way of resurrecting buried feelings and disappointments. And though he cleverly conjured alibis as a renowned no-show, Abochie’s deepest desire was to have a lady give him attention, for once, in his life.
The eve of Valentine’s Day saw him lock himself up, and fold up in his mattress. He read, to himself, the sixty-three or so letters he had written to many a lass, but never had the guts to post. He finally fell asleep at ten.
It happened like a dream. No, even better… A little old lady, dressed in blue, winged, bright as a lamp, holding a wand, appeared to him, floating in one corner of his room, and smiling.
‘Behold, Abochie, thou favoured one! Hark! I am here to grant thee one wish, this very day. Whatever it is you wish for, up to the ends of the Multiverse, I will fulfill. But thou shan’t wish for more. I will…’
“Madam Fairy Godmother, speak no further… I want a woman! A well endowed, fair complexioned, sexy brunette. I want a clingy lady, someone who will follow me around campus. I want her jealous, and possessive. I want her to do all I say, and, without question, fulfil my wildest fantasies. I want her educated, yes, but obviously less intelligent than I am; tall with long legs; evident for all to see. I want her to give me nothing but that pleasure I have never tasted. Every blessed day.
“I want her to worship me, yes, to serve me. Willing to sacrifice her grades for my whims. Oh yeah, I don’t want someone who is always talking…about marriage, and I don’t want someone who will drain me financially. In fact, I want her to be of notable wealth, and willing to spend on me at all times. I want her to give me her all.
“Yes. I want a woman in whose arms I WILL GLADLY DIE!”
The old lady looked disappointed. She descended from the height and landed softly on the ground. Her light dimmed.
‘Lo! Abochie, art thou certain about…’
“Madam Fairy, were you sent to ask me questions? If you cannot do it, return from whence you came!”
The old lady sighed and shook her head in disbelief.
‘Your wish is my command…’, she said, as she shook her wand, and then vanished.
Abochie was rudely awoken to persistent knocking on his door the following morning. It was the dreaded Valentine’s Day.
He plodded slowly, as he opened his door reluctantly.
Standing on his porch was a curly haired, superbly endowed, lip-smacking beauty. Faultless, and flawless. His mind realigned all the vibes he had gathered over his twenty celibate years.
She smiled, biting one corner of her lower lip and staring seductively at him. With nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around her, and dripping wet, what could she possibly want?
Abochie did not waste time with words. He did not step out of his room that day. She took good care of him. She taught him things he needed to catch up on, did everything Abochie wanted, and more. She had to be his soul mate. Wow!
So the dream was for real.
She was fantastic. That Val’s Day was THE Val’s Day. Abochie had been reborn.
He cleared his goatee and got rid of the glasses. He updated his fashion sense and reignited his campus life.
She followed him everywhere; tagging along his skimpy arms; always rubbing his heavy bald head; wiping his mouth after every meal; dutifully cleaning his apartment and doing his laundry on weekends.
He drove her car, ate her food, and enjoyed her sinfully. She defended him everywhere; picked up and won fights for his sake. She kept reminding him of all her seven evil exes, and why he was the best ever. They were an obvious mismatch… but they were… in love. She wanted to go everywhere with him. She even wanted him to follow her to the salon.
But soon Abochie needed some privacy. Going for group discussions was now a problem; she didn’t want anyone talking to her man. She accused him of cheating on her several times, even when he showed her proof to the contrary.
There were times she would confront these other ladies, to the point of fist fights. If he returned to his hostel a few minutes late, it meant he was flirting with someone somewhere.
It seemed to Abochie, that her life revolved around him. She did not have a church or mosque to attend; she did not follow soap operas; and she did not fancy beauty pageants. It was all Abochie by day, and Abochie by night. He dare not point this out to her, for his closest attempt had led to hours of irrepressible tears.
Then she started threatening to kill herself, if Abochie continued to refuse to send her for lectures; she was feeling lonely, desperate, without Abochie’s kisses…. as though she was not in the same school, heading for terminal exams. And, indeed, she had readied herself several times for suicide. Abochie was always there in the nick of time.
Now it was exam week. She wanted him to sing her to sleep every night. She woke him up several times at night for sex… something he initially enjoyed…
After only three months, Abochie realized that he could not handle her. He wanted his old life back. He was crumbling – in fact afraid – of the woman who gladly offered herself to him every night. He began to pray again, as he did during his lonely years.
Once again, in his dream, the same old woman appeared, winged, floating in a corner of the room, and with her wand. But she was not glowing, and she was not smiling.
‘What is it you want with me, young man? I have done your bidding, and I have made you the envy of many brokenhearted on this land.’
“Madam Fairy. Hmm. All-knowing and all-wise. Errm. Omnipotent. Can you please reverse the wish? Can you take this back? I do not wish for another. I only want things to be the way they once were…”
‘Fool! You could have asked for world peace, an end to global warming, a cure for AIDS, or a vaccine for malaria. You could have asked for insight into life, or for the presidency of the land, to gain some status or even financial wealth beyond your pitiful wardrobe. How many people get this rare opportunity in a millennium?
‘Now your grades have tanked. You are spending no money, but you are spent. You have lost all your friends, and she has no depth to quench your love-thirsty soul.
‘What do you take me for? A fairy? An angel? No! I am nothing more than a figment of your repressed imagination. I am you, thinking to yourself. A mere manifestation of your desires. A fantasy.
‘But this lady, who is lying naked beside you, is real. Every inch of her exists. And, until every ounce of your wish is fulfilled, she will remain beside you.’
“Madam! What do you mean by that?…”, Abochie cut in.
‘Your wish would not have been granted, if you do not DIE in her arms!…Now summon me no more.’
The fairy godmother vanished.
– Abochie-rella and the Seven Dwarfs
– Borderline Personality Disorder
– Enjoy the Season of Love Folks