This book of the law must not depart from your mouth.

As I stood at the window of my house
Looking out through the shutters…
I spotted a young man without any sense
Arriving at the corner of the street where she lived
Then turning up the path on her house

You said I would be at her house last night but trust me, I wasn’t at her house last night. I swear by… by anything and everything, I wasn’t at her house. Contrary to what you saw, I had been to her house every night for the past one week but not last night. Immediately after work yesterday, after jerking off my tie and slinging my jacket over my shoulder, I made up my mind that I wasn’t going to find myself a weak man running into her pink beddings and being swept up with pleasure. Last night, I was really in my home.

I had started the night in my room trying to pick the pieces of my life together as I drank straight from my third bottle of Star. There were fragmented pieces of glass on the tiled floor, and I had been wondering how to piece them together. I had mistakenly broken a bottle of Star. The bottle was my life. I was drunk. I had drunk myself to stupor to avoid going to her. I had drunk slowly, letting the incoherence fill my bones. I let it seep into me and caress my inside. I tried to let it be my woman for the night. I allowed it descend me into the bottomless pit of delirium. It felt good, not as good as being with her, but it felt better than the trouble I would be looking for going to her matrimonial home. At some point, I found myself searching my jacket for a cigarette, lit it and thrust it between my lips. Then I found myself, despite the sleep keeping my eyelids shut, going into the living room. Moments later, I was punching some numbers into the table phone…some numbers…then I heard her voice and listened to it churn my belly in delight. A thousand demonic dragon flies were born within.

She would be over in a moment.

I knew I’d sealed my fate. It was somewhat clear, more than the nagging voice of a fat old house wife, that I had made a mistake inviting her over. But I pushed back the huge little voice in my head, observing the stars that danced frantically around my eyes. I remember feeling my heart race with excitement and adrenaline pump into me. I remember feeling somewhat clear-headed as I stepped into the verandah that overlooked a number of high rises, permitting the evening air to smother my bald scalp. I waited for her there in anticipation as the darkness thickened into night.

It was dark, the evening coming on,
The darkness thickening into night
Just then, a woman met him—
She’d been lying in wait for him, dressed to seduce him
Brazen and brash she was
Restless and roaming, never at home
Walking the streets, loitering in the mall
Hanging out at every corner in town

You’re quite right about this part. She did meet me at my house, though she had been waiting for me to come over to her house. I watched her from the verandah as her car zoomed into the compound, a restless kitten. She barely turned off her engine before she hopped out of the driver’s seat. I could already smell her skin- I knew it smelt of confectionaries. I could already feel her skin in the warmth of my hands- her skin was hot, and cold. I could already taste it- it tasted like sugar. She was dressed in the skimpiest thing. I could barely see—not because of the darkness of the night, but because my eyelids were slithered, barely wanting to take in the scene more clearly. My inner self was content with seeing things in parts. It was part of the drunken state.

In what felt like a millisecond later, I heard her turn the knob of my door and walk past the kitchen to where I was. I felt her throw her hands around me. Those words you predicted she’d say, she did say them with slight modifications because she’d come to me and not I to her.

She said “I had all the makings for a feast.”
She paused, hands still around me. Then she added “Why didn’t you come? Never mind, don’t answer that since I have come to find you. I don’t think I could have gotten through the night without you. You see, I’d spread fresh clean sheets on my bed, colorful imported lines from Egypt. My bed is aromatic with spices and exotic fragrances…You didn’t come. But now I’m here, come let’s make love all night, let’s spend the night in ecstatic love making”

You were right; she had me eating out of her hand. She’d bewitched me with her honeyed speech.

I was the usual lustful man. I was never in search of a lady, they usually came to me. It was the way I was. At the pub and at the bar, at church on Sundays and at work during weekdays, at weddings on Saturdays and book club meetings on Thursday evening, everyone knew the way I rolled. They called me Mr. Playboy. They said this was my mansion. Some advised me to change my ways.

With this lady however, it all started two Sundays ago. The pastor, while preaching, said something you’d said before. Surprisingly, and somewhat not so surprisingly, as he said your words, his eyes came to focus directly into my eyes. He was hitting my heart with his bare hard palms;

My son, listen to my wisdom,
Turn your ear to my understanding.
So you may know what is good thinking
And your lips may keep much learning.
For the lips of a seductive woman are as sweet as honey.
Her words are oh so smooth
But it won’t be long before she’s gravel in your mouth,
But it won’t be long before she is as bitter-tasting as wormwood,
As sharp as a sword that cuts both ways,
a pain in your gut, and a wound in your heart.
She’s dancing down the primrose path to death
Her steps take hold of hell. Keep far away from her.

And just as your words of reproach came to an end and the pastor turned away from me, my eyes too left him and found their way to the deep black eyes that stared at me with curiosity from across the aisle. I tried to stare away, believe you me, but her eyes were so alluring, I got absolutely lost in them. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I found myself chasing a woman at the end of service- instead of her chasing me. Since that Sunday, we’d been inseparable. I wasn’t in love, that I knew for sure.

She told me her husband who she’d just been married to was away with the military. The fear that spread through me when she’d mentioned he was a General in the Army was quickly dissipated with a light kiss on my lips. She said she’d been alone in their big house for almost a year—since their wedding night even. He called, sent emails, sent gifts, but she needed a real man. A man that could satisfy her desires. Then a slight kiss again. She had a coy smile, a sexy body, a tentative voice. I was sunk deep even before I knew it.

Yesterday, we’d done the usual, made love, exceptionally drunk love.
I really didn’t think anything out of the ordinary would happen. I really didn’t.

In the middle of the night, someone yelled, he’s here, the bridegroom is here! Go out and greet him!

I felt her jump out of bed. At first, I didn’t move an inch. I allowed myself to be immersed in a dream of baby angels, flying arrows and love signs. But before long, a loud crash on my door jolted me up to reality.
“It’s my husband, he’s here. How did he know–” she stammered, trying to slip into my clothes and not the minuscule thing she had come with.
“Mayowa, I know you’re here, get your ass down here!” I heard a man scream for her. I heard doors open and then get slammed, rackets and thumping of feet.

I suddenly became nervous as my senses took hold of themselves. “Lord,” I prayed, clutching to you “Lord, please tell me this is a dream”.
I pinched myself in an attempt to wake up. “Dayo wake up na” I said to myself “Dayo wake up”.
“Be a man Dayo” she said angrily, her voice not so coy anymore. “What are we going to tell him—”

Before she could finish her statement, with her hands strapping her bra on, he barged into the room, a pistol in hand. I thought I was going to die. I knew I was going to die.
“Sweetheart” she started in her coy voice “what a pleasant surprise.” She pulled over my t-shirt and started tracing her hand through her weave. I, on the other hand, kept still hoping hopelessly that keeping still would make me invisible.
“Shut up!” he screamed
“You, what are you doing with my wife? Are you insane? Are you mad?”
He aimed a shot at me and quickly, with inhuman speed, he shot at my wardrobe. I swallowed hard and screamed. A long, girly scream.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry sir” I went on my knees and clasped my hands together.
“Please don’t kill him” she cried, her knees going down synchronously.
He shot her a deadly look “Mayowa you still have the guts to open your smelling mouth?”

I think I saw her smell her breath.

“Mayowa” he finally said, taking a deep breath. “Go downstairs to the car. My car”
She stared nervously at me and then back at him before quickly running out of the room.
I had one second to study his features before he attacked me with his bare hands. He was incredibly handsome, dressed in khaki army pants and vest. His muscles glistened with sweat that I could have licked to appease him. He had well-chiseled jaw and neatly-cut, shiny-dark hair. His hairline was awesome. He had full beard and a moustache. For the first time, I admitted that I’d met a man more handsome than I was.

He punched my face and my chest continuously, mumbling “stay away from my woman.”

I could only whimper and beg in return. I blamed the alcohol for making me a weakling though I knew I stood no chance against this monstrous man. I kept blaming myself for not listening to your words;

Countless victims come under her spell
She’s the death of many a poor man
She runs a halfway house to hell
Fits you out with a shroud and a coffin

He left me half dead with spit on my face and once he did, I held you tightly to my chest. I kept mumbling, hands holding you tight “This book of the law would never leave my mouth…”
***Words in italics are from The Message Bible, some combined with the words in the New Life Version, the book of Proverbs 5, 7, Matthew 25:6 & Joshua 1:8***

34 thoughts on “THIS BOOK OF THE LAW

  1. This was so well done. So well done. It’s not easy to get a message through so spectacularly, especially a message we’ve heard so often that we’ve begun to forget. Brilliant.

  2. Alafia Dauda. Cecile White. Ope. And whatever appellations you may have acquired in life. Marry me ___O_

    My best bit was the quote off “The Ten virgins,” where they cried “the bridegroom is here!”

    I like the way you put it in and gave it a plot twist, so to speak.

    Everything else was dope.

    I wanted to fornicate this evening, but I’ll wait until this post is no longer fresh in my mind…

  3. Ope Adedeji, you’ve done it again. I’m marvelled at such good work. it makes me question the inspiration.

    Keep writing dear.You’re only getting better.

  4. woow!!! the style, composition, everything was just wonderful! i have probably said a million times but “i love it!!”

  5. Well, sch has hindered me from coming on here. But, after reading this I regret not boycotting sch earlier to have read it when it was fresh. To all of u who add the Extra to an ordinary story I say well done and keep doing your thing ma’am.

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