A LETTER TO MY LOVER by Ola Adepegba

A story of a desperate game of love, lust, passion, trust, betrayal, deceit, greed, blackmail and murder. Written in verse with raw emotions.

Categories: , ,



January 1st 2015


Sweet Janet,


In the agony of guilt in the guilt of the conscience, I have chosen to write you and tell you the whole story. Though you may not care to read anything from me and the name Habby may mean nothing but fraudster to you, but to me, my love for you remains inviolate. Again, I do not expect you to believe this. For a million times you had asked me whether I loved you and a million times I had replied yes but all the million times I had lied to you. A million times you had urged me to marry you and a million times I had promised the soonest time, but also a million times I had disappointed you. I had always told you I loved you, but I had never told you I also loved your mother. You had always known me to be gentle and kind. You had never known that I was a robber and a cheat. You had always believed that I was in Mzansi for my master’s degree; you had never thought I was running away from justice. But no man being in my shoes would have done better. I was only unlucky to be the victim of this misadventure which I would blame nobody for but my stars. But the best I can do now, my Janet, is to write you and tell you the whole story from the beginning. If I am lucky to be freed from this case, who knows, you may still love me all over again.



I was born to a very poor home. My mother was jobless without anybody to cater for he, she only did some subsistence farming on a three plot of land in our little village in Edo state of Nigeria. I never knew my father. I was told he died when I was three months old. I cannot remember now how I went through my education. All I knew was that I graduated from University of Jos at the age of 26. I was posted to Lagos for National Youth Service. There I met Madam Kofo, and there the story of my life started.


I was posted to one of Kofo’s companies in Lagos and she decided to question me herself. When she heard that I grew up in Edo State, she asked me if I knew one Mrs Edokpolor who was from my native home. I replied I knew her and that I also knew her house in Benin. She was so happy. She said one of these days I would describe the place for her for she had lost contact with the woman who happened to be her best friend in school.


Kofo’s “one of these days” happened to be the following day and I was not to describe Mrs Edokpolor’s residence for her. I was to take her there. So, having spent just two days at Kofo’s company, I had followed her from Lagos to Benin. We got to her house and we were told she had relocated to Ghana. Kofo collected her address in Ghana and concluded the journey was not a waste. But more than Mrs Edokpolor’s Ghana address was the fact that the journey marked the beginning of my affair with Kofo.


That night, I lodged in the same hotel with Kofo, in the same room in Benin City. There, we talked about many things. We talked about business, about education, about politics; we talked about men, about relationships and about love. She told me about herself, about her business and about her wealth. She told me she inherited her wealth from her father, she also inherited his connections. She told me she was 34 and a mother of one and I wouldn’t have known for she looked 25 and like a virgin. She told me I was handsome and lovely. She told me she loved me.

I wasn’t sure she meant it. I told her she was greater than me in all aspects of life. She was older, she was richer. She smiled,  she replied that was nothing. She told me. “You are a man I am a woman, you’ve got a rod, I ve got a hole. Put your dick inside my hole and you will see that it will be exactly its size.”

I tried it. I moved closer to her, I undressed her. I removed  her bra. I fondled her breast. I removed her skirt. She wasn’t wearing panties. I put it inside her, she whimpered, ooh, aahh, ooh, aahh …..


Kofo and I became inseparable. We went to clubs together, we watched Nigerian Premier League matches together and we shared the same bed. I had access to all her properties, the keys of her cars, of her offices and of her room.


She told me she had a daughter, while she was in junior secondary school, at the age of 15, out of wedlock, and that the girl was out of the country. Her father was nowhere to be found.


Kofo was a charmingly beautiful woman. Her hair was long and black. She had a smile that could make any man go crazy and she had a way of talking that always made her words re-echo in one’s ears days after the discussion. When she talked, her intonation was perfect, her demonstration superb. Her speech was soft and fast that you would always enjoy listening to her.


She loved me, I need not be told. We would always wear the same kind of cloth and would always eat our meals together. She would suspend a cube of chocolate between her teeth and asked me to cut it with my teeth. As I tried to do her bidding our mouths would meet and we would start a round of marathon kissing. After having sex, we would bath each other, and she would insist I assist her in dressing. I would not just assist her, I would dress her up. I would help her put on her panties, I would strap her bra. In most cases we would have more sex while dressing and the whole cycle would be repeated all over again.


Kofo taught me many tricks in sex-making. She was quite a pro in the act. She told me she learnt them in blue films. Kofo enjoyed nothing better than sex making. We spent more than half of our free time having sex in all possible places, in her car, in her office, in her kitchen …… her appetite for sex knew no boundary.


Kofo was a good dancer just like me. We spent a lot of time attending parties and jamborees. She would always tell me music is good for the soul, sex is good for the body.


I was 26 and Kofo was 34 but nobody could know she was older than me. She was a society lady and I was a youth corper, yet she gave me all the respect a lady would give to her husband. She let me take decision on what to eat, what to wear, how to spend our leisure time, which kind of vehicle to take out as well as where to go and where not to go.


As the relationship moved towards the climax, Kofo dropped a bombshell: she was pregnant!


We were faced with two alternatives- to get married or to abort the pregnancy. I preferred the former, but Kofo chose the latter. The pregnancy was aborted and I did not understand her reason, even till today.


There was one measure Kofo had taken about me all this while that worth mentioning. She had given me control over everything that was hers but she ensured that I did not have anything that was mine. I was free to drive any of her numerous flashy cars around but I did not have any that was mine. I had control over all her mansions, but I had no house of my own. I used to buy all I wanted freely but from Kofo’s account for I had no personal account. She was so clever to have successfully ensured all these. And when I asked her, she replied that it was only my imagination and never a plan.


I had a friend whose name was Parker. He was my counselor. He taught me many ways to steal Kofo’s money but they all failed. Then he told me there was a way, but I was going to lose Kofo. If it was successful I would have ten million naira. To me, ten million naira in my account was better than Kofo’s kingdom that may never be mine.


Then he reminded me that one of Kofo’s jeeps which I drove around Lagos was worth over thirty million naira in a perfect market, but because it would be a secret deal, he could get some men who could still pay ten million naira for it. All I have to do was to drive the jeep from Kofo’s house to the men’s hide-out and hand over the keys to them with ten million naira cash in exchange.


That looked to me like the easiest thing on earth. That day, I started planning how to get a travel visa for I knew I could not risk staying in Nigeria with Kofo’s powerful influence.


Maybe in my secret bid for visa I had made a wrong move, maybe Kofo just suspected naturally, but the following week, Kofo announced to me that she had got a driver for me. That was the first time she would be doing something without my consent. I kicked against the idea but she insisted. So I no longer had the keys of her vehicles but I still assured Parker that the deed would be done.


On the day chosen for the operation, Kofo had gone for a very important meeting that would take the whole day. I asked the driver to take the jeep to our mechanic for servicing. After the driver returned, I went to the mechanic’s workshop and told him that I urgently needed to take the jeep out that I would return it for servicing in the afternoon. The mechanic was reluctant, but he had no choice but to give me the keys. I did not know that the mechanic had called Kofo on the phone immediately I left and Kofo alerted the police.


I realized the police were trailing me so I stopped and accused them of trailing me unnecessarily. They demanded for my papers and I handed them over. They wanted to collect the jeep from me but I refused to release it. As we were arguing, a top police officer who knew Kofo and me very well was passing by and on sighting the jeep and many police officers on the scene, he stopped. That settled the matter. He allowed me to go but the junior officers were not satisfied. After their boss had gone, they started searching for me.


I got to the agreed place. I gave them the keys but instead of ten million naira, they gave me five million naira and asked me to follow them somewhere for the balance. Knowing that the police might be after me, I asked Parker to follow them. Before you could say Habby, I had disappeared with the five million naira and few days later, I found myself in the Republic of South Africa.



There in South Africa was where I met you, my dove, my love, my Janet. When I first set my eyes on you on that Valentine day in front of the Mall of the North in Peitersburg the capital of Limpopo, I thought I was looking at an angel or a fairy. I had moved near you and I had told you exactly what was on my mind. I told you, you were not only beautiful but also handsome. I told you, you had the quality many world beauty queens would covet. I told you I was dying to have you.


But you had turned down my proposal. You rejected me without even looking at my pleading face and turned away from me. For I loved you and would do anything to have you, I had followed me, you did not know. I trailed you throughout the day, from Checkers to Edgars, to Spar, to Pick and Pay, ….. I ensured I knew your house before I left for mine.


When I got home, I lay down with my eyes facing the ceiling, thinking about you, thinking about my love, my honey, my Janet. I knew I would have you. I assumed I had had you. Then I took my pen and wrote a poem for you.


Passion running through my veins

Trembling, waiting, reason is fading

Overpowering desire sets my skin on fire

I will follow the rainbow unto the end

If you promise forever to be my friend.


Somewhere, somehow someone dreams of your smile

And finds your presence in life so worthwhile

So when it seems you are lonely you are really not

For I am always with you.

I am sending you an island full of kisses

On a deep blue sea of love.


There is a clown in my heart.

Small and very special

It can sing and laugh

It can dance and jump

But all it is doing now

Is admiring the beauty of the girl I love.


You are just like a bounty

A piece of paradise on earth

Your eyes are soft and tender

As beautiful as they could be

But there is one thing you must remember




The following day I bought an envelope and a postage stamp and mailed my writing to you. I knew you would have received it with surprise. You would not know how I got your address and why I cared that much. You might not know that I really loved you.


The next day I bought a card and dressed myself up as I had never done before to check my love. I had taken my bath, I had combed my hair. I put on my pants, my trousers and my shirt. I put on my socks, my shoes and my 18-carat gold wrist watch. Then I drove my car to the house of my Janet, to the residence of my lover.


I was lucky, my sweetheart was at home. My dove was alone staring at my poem, the one I sent a day earlier. I knocked, I did not wait for a reply, I entered.


You saw me and dropped my poem. I expected you to be angry with me for entering a lady’s room without waiting for permission, but you smiled. I showed you the card I bought for you and expected you to tear it but you accepted it with joy. I held your hand and expected you to free yourself but you didn’t. I kissed you and you stuck closer. Then I knew I had had you.


Remember how I had laid you flat on the rug with my left hand under your head and my right embracing you. Remember how I had parted your lips with kisses how I had stamped your body with outlines of my lips. Remember how I had unbutton your shirt how I had unstrapped your bra. Remember how I had kneaded your breast with my hands, how I had sent down a thrilling sensation through your nerves. Remember how I had removed your skirt, how I had lowered your pants. Remember how I had made love to you with passion.


Who is like my Janet? Who is as beautiful as my spouse? Even if she coats her skin with the feathers of a peacock, with the scales of a bush gecko or with the skin of zebra, she cannot be as attractive as my love. If she is as quiet as still water, as gentle as a dove and as responsible as a dutiful husband, she cannot be compared with my Janet, my honey. Among the flowers stand out the lily, among the birds stands out the peacock. Among the beauties of this world stands out my Janet. Her shoes are number nine, her eyes are for love, her lips for kisses, her smiles say come.


I left my car in the entrance of the footpath. I followed the path, searching for my love, my sweet Janet. Sitting on the grasses was the one whom I was well pleased, the one with whom my existence on earth made meaning. Dressed up to the nines, you were reading the writings of the wise king and listening to the melodious songs of the lovely birds. You were watching the cycling of the friendly fishes in a pond. I had moved closer to you, you had seen me; you had jumped up with joy. You had kissed me with passion. I had asked you what you were doing and you replied you love seeing things being natural. So I led you to the coast to see different fishes circling peacefully in the water, to get the cool breeze coming from the ocean and to see the magnificent work of God the creator. I led you to the green pasture to see the beauty of nature, the colours of insects and the slope of the lithosphere. I led you to the wilderness to watch the interaction of wildlife. To see how rabbits built their houses in the crack, how snakes dug the ground, how termites dwelt underground, how monkeys jumped from trees to trees, how lions lived in families and how tigers captured their prey.


We had watched the birds sing, we had seen the sun set. We had noticed the moon appearing. We had beheld morning changing to afternoon, we had seen afternoon turning to evening and evening to night. Then it was dark.


I had laid you on the pasture. I had touched your most sensitive parts. You had cried for pleasure, you had yearned for me. I had removed my belt in an ecstasy; I had stepped out of my trousers with passion. I had made love to you with pleasure.


Your words echoed in my ears like sounds of thunder “Do you love me Habby? Will you marry me? Will you let me be your legal wife? Will you father my children? How many questions of yours can I remember now? But all of them had only one answer and the answer was yes, yes and yes again. I didn’t think I could ever say no to you for any reason. Your questions were always worth yes to me.


You fashioned your life after me, you loved what I loved and despised what I despised. Before I came into your life you had always been supporting the Kaizer Chiefs but when you realized I was Orlando Pirate’s fan you became a pirate.


I had been to your house; I had seen my pictures everywhere, in your sitting room, on your dining table, in your kitchen, even in your toilet. I asked you why, you replied you always loved to see me. You told me you carried my pictures about in your handbag.


In your bathroom, we had made love, inside the bathing tub. The water showering upon us, it made us have the most pleasurable feeling that could be felt by mankind on the face of the earth.


You prepared a table of food before me. Your food was delicious, it was sweet, it was sensationally tasty. It could not be compared with any other. We had eaten our food together; we had drunk our wine in oneness.


You laid me on your bed. You talked to my ears, the kind of words I had never heard before. You told me there was a city for lovers in the life after. The city was called Silibaquees. There was an angel that watched over love birds, the angel was called angel Lovbus. You said you had seen in your dreams, angel Lovbus guiding the two of us in Silibaquees. There were many birds singing for us, there were many stars shining for us, there were many angels adoring us. Singles were not allowed, widows were not permitted. No room for bachelors, no chance for spinsters. Monogamy was the foundation, fidelity was the key. You said we were the best couple; others were filled with jealousy and envy. They were clapping their hands as angel Lovbus was decorating us. You said you had seen us, taking our love beyond this earth, to Silibaquees, the paradise of lovers.


I had assessed you mathematically. You were 100% feminine, 0% of a feminist. You controlled 50% of your heart, 50% of mine.


Lucky men have women who they loved; luckier ones have women who loved them. I was the luckiest, I have a woman who I loved and who equally loved me.


Let me sing my song, a song of love, let me blow my trumpet, a call for passion. Let me beat my drum, to the ears of my lover. I had finished my course; I had made up my mind. I had chosen the one with whom my soul found favour, the one to spend the rest of my life and eternity with. In the time of surplus, in the time of want, she would be my honey, my pride, my strength, my hope, my joy, my power. She would be my lover, my Janet. As the king said, there are three scores queen, four scores concubines and virgins without number. My dove, my undefiled is but one. She is the only one of her mother. She is the choice one of her that bore her. Many waters cannot quench the fire of love, neither can floods drown it.


You took me to Pretoria, to meet your childhood friends. We drove two hours along N1 road. We turned left and turned left then we got to Sunny Side, a community dominated by Nigerians. At Kuigers by Jurisson, I met your friends, Funnaya, Kemisola and Funmilayo. They acted the Nigeria way as if we were in Oshodi. “Omo so wa pa, Oju e scarce, wetin dey happen? They told me I was lucky to have you, for you’ve told them a lot about me. They told me how much you were crazy about me how often you used to tell them you’ve got a wonderful guy in your life. At church square we took pictures. The pictures I’ve been using as my d.p.



You have been here for long, you have learnt their tongue. You spoke to me in sepedi, the language of Limpopo. You called me moratwa, you said it means my sweetheart. I told you if we have a baby girl we will name her Lerato, for you’ve told me it means love. You replied in zulu, the language of Shaka, you said akuna matata, there is no problem, but you would prefer Leratorato, it means real love.


You trusted me so much; you gave me your life. I have the password to every account in your life. I can access you bank details; I can open your email box. I can edit your facebook account; I can represent you on twitter. And when I asked you why, you simply replied in xhosa, the language of Mandela, ndiya ku thanda, you said just because you loved me.


Wena fela, you told me it means you only. So I have turned it to a rhyme. I’ve made a rhythm out of it. I asked myself who had brought me the greatest joy. I replied myself wena fela. I wanted to know the best thing that had ever come to my life. I knew the answer, wena fela.


In this country there are whites, there are blacks, there are coloureds but there is none as beautiful as you.


Spring is beautiful, summer is bright, winter is cold, autumn is calm but there is no time as perfect as the time I spent with you.


I had got home to see your poem, the one you wrote for me



I met you as a stranger

I took you as a friend

I know one day, we shall meet

In a place our friendship will never end.


The moment I first saw you

You warmed my heart

The second time, you made a little flame

But now, you make my heart burn like hell.


I love the spring mornings

The afternoons in the autumn

The winter evening and the summer night

But you I love most


In my dreams you are mine

In my life you are a dream

There are seven billion people in the world

But in my world, you are the only one


Sometimes, words are hard to find

To form those perfect lines

To let you know you are always in my mind

Even when it is raining, the sun is shining in your smile.


I do not think much

I do not think often

I do not think hard

But when I think, I think of you.




Rethabile, we were happy. But then the problem started. We had decided to get married but you would not agree to have the wedding done in the province of Limpopo or in the heart of Johannesburg. You rejected the coastland of Durban you didn’t want it in Cape Town. You turned down my idea of Pretoria, you refused Pietermarizburg. You wanted your wedding done in Lagos, your state of origin. But to me, that was trouble, South Africans call it matata. I cannot go to Lagos I have vowed never to step Nigeria again. I knew what Kofo would do if she ever set her eyes on me. But that I couldn’t tell you, so you insisted.


I did everything I could; just to change your mind. I reminded you of sambisa forest; I showed you pictures of synagogue guest house. I made you follow MyRoadIsworseThanYours on twitter, I explained the meaning of devaluation of currency. I told you the state of Nepa, I showed you news about West African ebola outbreak. I told you Nigeria conducts elections on valentine, kidnappers snatch people for recharge cards. I told you there are markets for sales of human parts in our country; I reminded you they have not brought back our girls.


But you would not listen to me. You said the sun shines brighter in Lagos. The breeze is cooler. No place rocks more than V.I nobody makes suya better than the mola. You have missed the golden gate; you wanted to see the southern sun. You said you’ve missed the sounds of okada you wanted to see the colour of molues.


I reminded you of those good days, when we partied in the street of Johannesburg. Those days when we used to shout “Jo’burg sweet pass Lagos”. I asked you, how come Lagos suddenly became your Eden.


Then you got frustrated, you started speaking in yoruba, the language your mother taught you. You told me kosi bi to da bi ile, there is no place like home. I be naija, you turned it to pidgin the English of lagosians. I no be southi, mzansi no be my country.


Then, I was the ghost in Ama Ata Aidoo story, I was in real dilemma. I didn’t know whether I should risk going to Lagos or lose the girl I love.


Left with no alternative, I agreed to go and we had fixed dates, but on many occasions, I had postponed the date, given you different excuses, of course lying to you. This was the only truth I had hidden from you.


For the first time in my life, I regretted my action in Nigeria. I wish I had never known kofo, I wish I have struggled on my own to come to mzansi. But then, it was too late.



When you could no longer understand me, I accepted your opinion. I chose to take the risk of my life instead of losing the love of my life.


So on that fateful day, we left OR Tambo in Johannesburg, heading for Muritala Muhammed in Lagos.




At the arrival in Lagos, your people were waiting for us, but when they approached us, the first person I noticed was my old friend, my greatest enemy, Madam Kofo. She was your mother………




There are no reviews yet.

Be the first to review “A LETTER TO MY LOVER by Ola Adepegba”

detail product

    No detail information

about the author

mobilebookshelf Facebook Page



reset default