by B. Nyamnjoh
‘I work out my daily activities, love to read a variety of books, I think I am sensitive and kind to people, my mother says that I am good looking and take good care of my body and my looks. Also I think I have a good sense of humour, enjoy going to theatre, nightclubs, shopping and being a good Christian. And that teaches me to be open-minded, forgiving, loving. And of my hobbies, I like to laugh, I love to be spontaneous, and I am usually up to trying any good thing at least once. I love relaxing indoors after the day’s activities, by watching movies and reading. I have peace in my heart that God will give me the sweetest person in the whole universe: mature, fun to be with, warm hearted, and would be able to cry on his shoulder and he will also cry on mine too. So I can say like Paul: though I am not what I ought to be nor what I wish to be, nor yet what I hope to be, I can truly say I am not what I once was, only can be told by people!!
‘A Little about Me:
‘My sign: I do not believe in signs and I am 1.62 metres tall. I weigh 52.20kgs, I’m a people’s person if I may say – very warm, giving, committed to family, friendly, funny. I think I am Smart...ahhhh and hope to be full of charm... I do not smoke, but occasionally drink at my free time!!
‘Favourite Things: My favourite things include my family and my education mostly. I have nine sisters, six brothers and three mothers, one biological, two step. My hobbies and interests: I like being at the library when the university is not on strike or hostel, reading, watching movies, cooking, gossiping and laughing with friends. My favourite quotes: ‘Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own joy’; ‘A successful marriage requires falling in love many times with the same person.’ Please see a lovely picture of me at the Sakersbeach beach attached. The long hair is natural. Hope to hear from you in general and take care, and may God bless you. I am looking forward to seeing your picture sent to me on your reply.’”
“I sense the fish taking the bait,” said Lilly Loveless, excited.
“If something serious develops, as has happened before, she goes to Sawang on special appointments with the man, where the cybercafés are really well equipped with broadband connections, webcams and all. There, she books into a cubicle of her own, where she has all the privacy she needs. She is ready for her love play, once she dials up her guy on Skype, webcam and all. One thing leads to another. First, they talk sex, then they start touching themselves for each other, and then… deeper and deeper it gets until each has an orgasm, sometimes multiple. ‘That was so sweet,’ she would tell her man on the computer screen. ‘Somehow, you know how to make me smile all over my being. When I listen to our love music, I quiver with pleasure like a reed in the middle of a river. You and you alone are the tonic of my life. You conquer stress and leave me smiling for the rest of the day and for days before we meet again. You are simply the best.’ Depending on what the guy in the computer is looking for, she’s either in business or not, but that’s what you get with fishing. Not every fish that nibbles at your bait swallows it.”
“Amazing!” exclaimed Lilly Loveless, lost for words. “And all of this is happening here in Mimboland?”
“Right here in Puttkamerstown. We are a small little town, but as we say in Mimboland, ‘small nobi sick’.”
“Small nobi sick indeed,” repeated Lilly Loveless. She couldn’t say if Britney was inventing things – cooking up data or really recounting things that happened. She would have sworn that things such as cyber sex were a reality of Muzunguland, and that even out there it was still a budding practice.
“She told me her greatest turn on gimmick for the man at the other end of the webcam or Skype – her electronic Kama sutra, which I am too embarrassed to repeat to you. But whenever she uses this, the man is sure to go straight to the nearest electronic money transfer service to send her some hard currency, for a job well done. Within a very short time, she has become one of the richest girls in Puttkamerstown. She drives a very expensive car, lives in her own house, and has a healthy bank account. Yet, she won’t rest until she marries a Muzungu to take her to whiteman kontri…”
“The lure and allure of Muzunguland, eh?” said Lilly Loveless, contemplatively.
“There are no limits to what this girl would do,” Britney went on. “She loves to tease the men at the other end of her virtual world like mad. Her favourite game is to play dressing, undressing, redressing in front of the camera. She believes that lovers do not have to touch physically to connect. With one particular man, I could see from how she recounted the story that it was exceedingly relaxing to spontaneously undress before him. She would take her light orange cotton jacket off to reveal her shoulders. Pull her orange sleeveless t-shirt up over her head, revealing her bare chest – except for a full pink bra. Unbutton her white trousers and unzip them suggestively. And she would dance like that, before him, until the music stopped. Then she would zip her trousers and button them, slowly, put her tops back on and bid him good day. Simple yet special, she dresses, undresses and redresses before the webcam in her cybercafé cubicle…”
“And the man, what would he do?” asked Lilly Loveless, flabbergasted.
“What would he do?” Britney repeated, a whataquestion look in her eyes. “His eyes would be glued to his computer screen, his hands active between his legs. He would comment on the fullness of her breasts. And before you knew it, he was moaning with pleasure, reinforcing the link between them, and turning her on incredibly in turn. When she turned her bum to the camera, he moved his cursor up and down, lost in a world of their own, a virtual world made real.”
“Amazing,” said Lilly Loveless, cutting Britney short. “You really do have a way with digging deep into stories from the most unlikely angles, don’t you?”
Britney nodded, happy to see that her work was being appreciated. She has always had a talent for stories, and especially for making others open up. At high school, it was said that if Britney could not succeed in making friends with someone, no one else could. It was gratifying to know that her capacity to be social and her nose for stories were now paying off.
***
Britney leafed through her notes, frantically.
“You mean to say there’s more? What next?” Lilly Loveless was more than curious.
“There’s this lady my friend of multiple identities was friends with. Then her husband also found her terribly attractive…”
“And so she goes out with both of them?” Lilly Loveless anticipated.
“Absolutely, she went out with the lady and her man” said Britney. “What the lady didn’t know is that the reason my friend was never available on the weekends was because she was spending them in Sawang with her husband who always found an excuse to be away on mission on weekend.”
“So your friend had the wife during the week and the husband on weekends?”
“And they were both pleased with her, apparently,” said Britney. “Although I am not sure they knew of each other as lovers of the same person.”
“Perhaps they did,” said Lilly Loveless. “You never know.”
“How I came to know about this particular story is that one day she brought me a note written by the lady to explain to her.”
“You remember what this note said?”
“It was short and straightforward, and I can’t understand why she couldn’t understand a message so clear,” said Britney. “So I read it to her.”
“Was this lady Mimbolander?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious…”
“Not every curiosity should find satisfaction,” Britney replied, knowing exactly why Lilly Loveless asked her question.
“Is there any rule in the relationship book that your friend is not going to say FU to?” Lilly Loveless asked rhetorically.
Britney smiled, informedly.
“Would you have a webcam relationship?” asked Lilly Loveless, not sure how Britney would react.
“I don’t like the webcam, because it is cold and distant,”
replied Britney. And with a straight face, added: “I like eyes to eyes, feel the breath, the heat, the hardness or softness of the hands, of manhood. I love sweating and feeling the other sweat over me.”
“How common is this phenomenon of cybersex?”
“It is catching on very fast, as more and more cybercafés are set up with broadband facilities, and as the economic crisis continues to give us sleepless nights. Things are tough in this country, I assure you.”
“I know,” agreed Lilly Loveless, “I see misery everywhere I go. Do the flying-shirts do similar things to attract Muzungu women?”
“Yes, but to a much limited degree, as it is a lot more common for Muzungu men to make themselves available for cybersex than it is for the Muzungu woman” said Britney, not sounding quite sure. “What I know for sure is that the flying-shirts target the women tourists who come to the beaches, and that some of these women do invite back to Muzunguland the beach bumsters that have swept them off their feet.”
This made Lilly Loveless recall her Sunsandland experience. She expressed her gratitude for the session. She realized how much work Britney had done over the last several months. And that some of the stories she told today because she was in the privacy of her place. Knowing Britney, she couldn’t imagine her talking at a snack bar about her friend dancing nude. She also thought how, in addition to storing her audio files on her computer, she should send them to her Gmail for safekeeping. Secrets are always safer in the hands of a perfect stranger, she thought. And she thought about how she was going to have to try to make some sense of all she was hearing, and experiencing and imagining in this fantastic land of Mimbo where reality seemed stranger than fiction.
“There is a Mimbo saying I picked up the other day from a book of short stories: A guest should leave when her presence is most desired, so that she can have a befitting farewell and be invited to come again,” Lilly Loveless said, standing up.
“What befitting farewell do you want?” asked Britney, a broad smile on her face.
“Just a kiss,” said Lilly Loveless.
“So be it, a kiss you shall have. But to show what a generous host I am, and how appreciated you are, a hug as well.”
Britney walked Lilly Loveless to the main road where they hailed a taxi, hugged and exchanged kisses again. Lilly Loveless, who would have given anything to have a most wonderful lingering kiss at the material moment, thanked Britney profusely and tenderly.
“Now that you know where I am,” said Britney, “don’t hesitate to stop by any time.”
“Are you sure about that?” asked Lilly Loveless with a grin.
“Could I ask you a very personal question Britney,” Lilly Loveless stared into Britney’s eyes, with her gentle, crystal clear blue eyes.
“Why not?” replied Britney, not quite understanding why Lilly Loveless was all tensed up.
“Um you like making love with women?” Lilly Loveless asked.
“Lilly Loveless… I like making love with elephants and alligators and tree trunks… even stars… And you?”
“Stars? I’ll just have to learn that one from you,” said Lilly Loveless, ducking into the taxi.
16
“I’m pleased you agreed to talk with me, despite the difficult times you must be going through, with the detention of your husband,” Lilly Loveless told Mrs Lovemore, as soon as they were seated. Mrs Lovemore had invited Lilly Loveless to her house, having declined the latter’s offer for them to go to Mountain Valley for the interview, saying something about how cheap and nosy the place was.
“Wiseman is stubborn and easily angered,” said Mrs Lovemore settling her well endowedness into the couch.
“Really?” Lilly Loveless was surprised to hear. “That’s not the first thing that strikes one about him.”
“It depends whom one is,” said Mrs Lovemore. “He has all these strange dreams of freedom in his head,” she added. “But he forgets that our dreams are limited by the reality of our lives.”
“Hmmmmm,” Lilly Loveless couldn’t readily accept Mrs Lovemore’s words.
“Recently he asked me to comment on a piece he had written about the failing democratisation process in Mimboland. My criticisms – which in fact were more far-reaching than I dared say – were quite evidently not appreciated. That is a shame. His endeavours might be more successful if he would accept advice and criticism from outsiders. Repeated empty rhetoric and demagogy will not convince anyone, and there’s no need for that either, considering the objectively fraudulent record that the regime has run up for itself. But a man’s character cannot be washed out by the rain. Wiseman will presumably always remain convinced of his own superiority in virtually all matters.”
“He is as stubborn as that?”
“I speak as his wife,” said Mrs Lovemore. “Others know him outside in, I know him inside out. He is a difficult man and attracts more than his fair share of headaches.”
“What a pity.”
“Now, what can I get you to drink?” insisted Mrs Lovemore. “Here we are rattling away with nothing to wet our lips, to quench our thirst. Let me bring you some of my special ginger drink,” she insisted before Lilly Loveless had a chance to respond, “Made with honey, not sugar, and just a touch of pineapple juice.”
Mrs Lovemore’s outfits were always so well-tailored. Not a millimetre too much or too little around her ample hips. As she headed to the kitchen, Lilly Loveless noticed that the patterns in the fabric not only danced but also matched perfectly across the back seam that contained her abundance.
Mrs Lovemore returned from the kitchen with two tall glasses, gave one to Lilly Loveless and balanced the other in her hand as she wriggled back into her spot on the couch. Her very dark brown hair was always cropped close. That dramatic face-framing coiffure, the gold in the colourful print fabric, and the gold loop earrings seemed to combine to make her brown eyes and face shine. Her clothes, jewellery and hairdo were homage to the glamour and splendour of her good looks.
“That’s a lovely dress you’ve got there. Great fabric,” Lilly Loveless complimented.
“Thanks,” Mrs Lovemore smiled contentedly. “The beautiful green and white tye-died suit I wanted to wear to welcome you and in preparation for my meeting after our talk, has been pressed by the dry cleaners and folded and put into a plastic bag – as if it were a man’s shirt! What do I need with these creases running up and down the front of me? They destroy the lines of the dress and make me look boxy and stiff. And, it’s not like they’ll shake out with wear. What’s wrong with just ironing a woman’s dress, respecting the designer’s design and letting it hang like it should?!”
Lilly Loveless tried to make her face read empathy, although she didn’t quite understand why Mrs Lovemore should go out of her way to dress specially for her, a mere student on fieldwork.
“Now, to your research, if I understand you correctly: You want to know about me and my husband? What about the other men in my life? You want to know about them too, the ones with whom I’ve had intimate skin to skin contact?”
“Yes…” said Lilly Loveless, nodding, not knowing her question would get opened up like that.
“That’s a tall order,” said Mrs Lovemore. “Where do I begin? What do I include? How does one summarise a life like mine in a single interview? We researchers must make those we study laugh.”
“I know,” Lilly Loveless agreed. “But degrees must be got, so we play along, giving the impression that people live their lives in square boxes…”
“OK, I’ll do my best for you.”
“Thanks ever so much.”
“With Crush,” Mrs Lovemore, began.
Lilly Loveless scrambled to switch on her digital recorder, a bit disoriented by Mrs Lovemore’s abruptness.
She had scarcely had time to take in the artwork on the walls, the photographs, the sculpted masks. She was intent in sculpting her way behind the mask of Mrs Lovemore.
“With Crush, I was his first and he was my first. When I
first felt a hot feeling swelling between my legs, my eyes got big with wonder. What pleasure! Different from the feeling when with cousins we’d put pillows between our legs. He was gentle. We were clumsy at times, and enjoyed it all immensely. He had grey, cut-short spiky hair that women found absolutely irresistible. I got used to them rubbing their hands over his head. He could smile. He could laugh real well, with his whole body. I can still hear him reverberate with laughter.
“Then, before I had my son – he passed away when we came to Mimboland – and Pinklie my daughter whom you’ve met, my breasts were a lot fuller than the leftovers you see today – things tend to go south with age, almost too big for my liking, but not for Crush’s. He later admitted to only being attracted thereafter to big breasted women. I used to tell him he hadn’t the foggiest idea of foreplay, as he would go straight for my breast and hang prayerfully onto it. And he would retort that the only thing I knew about foreplay was taking off his socks and licking his toes like a puppy. He was a cook and we would cook up storms. He would also smoke up storms with friends. I’d see the result the next day – fanciful multi-coloured apartment walls. It’s like I let myself get involved because I knew I would be leaving at the end of the summer for university. I left him my guitar and he did send me a song he composed that I never made head or tail of.”
“Didn’t know you played the guitar, Mum,” said a girl with long black straightened hair who swung into the room and released her schoolbag into one of the chairs. Lilly Loveless remembered the phone call about Dr Lovemore’s sick daughter that took him away the day they were drinking with Bobinga Iroko at Mountain Valley, never to be seen again.
The girl shook hands with the visitor and went to the refrigerator for ginger drink then returned to pick up her bag. “I have homework to do and a big test tomorrow, will you be able to help me prepare later?”