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My Wife, The Hotel’s Secret Escort / Chapter 2: Card for Hotel, Card for Heartbreak
My Wife, The Hotel’s Secret Escort

My Wife, The Hotel’s Secret Escort

Author: Elizabeth Scott


Chapter 2: Card for Hotel, Card for Heartbreak

I return late from business trip. I no wan disturb my wife, as she dey struggle with sleep wahala, so I decide to stay for hotel.

The hotel room cold, AC dey blow anyhow. As I enter, the faint smell of fried plantain from the canteen downstairs dey greet my nose. The security man for entrance hail me, 'How far, oga?' as I waka in. I just drop my bag, call room service for small pepper soup make e hold body. Rain dey fall outside, I fit hear the noise for window. As I settle inside chair, dey plan next day meeting, my mind dey far.

Not long after I settle down, I hear one soft knock for my door.

E be like say na room service. I stand up, stretch small, dey wonder who fit come this kind hour. For Naija, you go fear to open door anyhow.

As I go check, I see say dem don push one flashy card under the door gap.

The card just dey shine under the light, get plenty fine colour, like something wey you go see for Lagos Island bar. I first think say na useless promo wey hotel dey share.

I just hiss, shake my head—Naija don spoil finish.

I talk am for my mind, “This country don turn to another thing. No shame again. Even hotel dey allow nonsense.”

As I bend pick the card—planning to report to hotel reception—I freeze, eyes wide, rub my eyes like say I dey see vision.

Na wah, I never see this kain thing before. My heart begin pound like talking drum. I check am again, just to be sure say na my eye dey deceive me.

The woman for the card na my wife, Ngozi, no mistake.

Na her sharp cheekbone, her smile, the small scar for her eyebrow wey I like tease am about. Even the necklace wey I buy for her dey her neck. No two ways, na my own woman full ground.

But she no just dey almost naked, she still dey pose one kind, enough to make man mind fly.

The pose na one kain—like those Instagram girls wey dey use body collect followers. She lean one leg, mouth pout, finger dey lips. If stranger see am, dem go think say na runs babe.

The text for the card even worse:

"Lonely wife, secret midnight enjoyment—double pleasure for body and soul."

My hand dey shake, the thing shock me. For my mind, I dey ask, “Which kind wahala be this? Who dey use my wife shine like this?”

I feel cold sweat for my back. I dey imagine say people fit see this card, talk rubbish about my family. Na disgrace of the highest order. My mind dey run marathon, as if I fit disappear from the room.

My first thought be say na person thief my wife picture.

I dey pray say na scam, or dem just use her photo. The world wicked, and people fit do anything for money. I even dey reason say make I call her immediately, but I hold myself.

To photoshop her face for this kain thing na real insult.

I remember one time dem photoshop governor head put for masquerade body for Facebook—na that kind madness dey happen here?

I vex, wish say I fit catch the person and drag am go chief’s court.

For my mind, I dey imagine say I go carry the person go community palace, make elders judge the case. The disgrace no go end until I see justice.

To avoid wahala, I open new WhatsApp account, add the contact wey dey the card.

I use new number, no wan use my real number. For Naija, e get as e be. Anything fit leak reach social media, make dem no use me do gist.

I quickly discover say no be my wife WhatsApp at all, and the account name no be her own.

The profile na one kind name, with display picture of another babe wey I never see before. I even check if dem get mutual contact, but nothing.

So no be her second account. I come relax small.

I breathe small, thank God say no be her. E be like say na all this people wey dey steal person identity to do business. My chest cool down small.

As I think am, I just slap myself.

I blame myself for dey suspect woman wey I dey call my backbone. I dey shame for myself.

Even as I dey tell myself say dem dey frame my wife, deep down, one small doubt dey worry me. That fear wey dey corner heart, e no wan gree go. But I chase am comot my mind, talk say na devil dey plant bad thought.

But as I confirm say no be her, shame catch me for even suspecting am.

Na true, I just dey look myself. Why I go dey doubt person wey don follow me suffer? She dey try, even dey do deliverance because of me. I for use sense.

Ngozi dey good to me—she even dey fight her own wahala because of me—how I go dey suspect her?

I dey remember all the times she cook correct pepper soup, the aroma strong reach my neighbor room. She add correct crayfish, e dey make belle turn. She dey iron my shirt before work, pray for me every morning. I just shake my head, talk say, “Chai, love don blind man.”

Angrily, I snap the card and send am to the hotel manager, ready to insult them, when my phone ring.

I dey plan to scatter for reception, but work no dey let person rest for this country.

Na my oga—urgent work. I drop everything, open my laptop handle am.

As I dey type, my mind still dey fly go that card. But work must come first. I dey try put body together, show say I be correct staff.

By the time I finish, I see say messages don full my phone.

I rub my face, talk say, “Wahala no dey finish for this country.” I scroll through, ready to block all the nonsense.

"Oga, you get sharp eye! You pick our top babe, but she don get customer tonight."

"Check our other girls—enjoyment guaranteed!"

All these kind talk, na scam dem dey scam people for Lagos. Dem dey use sweet mouth run package. I don see am before for my friend phone.

Dem send line of fine babe pictures join.

Even as I dey vex, some of the pictures na girls wey resemble all those Big Brother Naija girls. I just shake head, say Naija don spoil.

I just hiss. I don see through their game.

Their trick old, nothing wey person no go see for Naija. I dey pity men wey go fall for this kind wahala.

Dem go use person wey resemble Ngozi attract customer, then say she no dey, come sell another person.

Na smart way to catch mugu. I gats warn my guys next time. I dey think say dem dey use Ngozi face as sample, just to catch my attention.

I just dey curse them for chat box.

I type, “Una dey mad. Stop this rubbish.” My fingers dey shake, but I wan show say I no be fool.

As I wan send am, my smile just freeze. My mind blank, I almost faint.

Because as I see the next message, e be like say my spirit comot from body. My whole brain jam.

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