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      Why Won't She Have Sex?

      by

      Kehinde Anita Mokwenyei

      Copyright 2017 Kehinde Anita Mokwenyei,

      All rights reserved.

      Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com

       http://www.eBookIt.com

      ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2888-8

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

      Sad, just pitiful, how men gather to waste, how men build to pull down. If only to God, they’ll give priority, everything will take shape. Raging emotions fight to find peace in a heart that’s starved of it. Weary bones struggle to find strength in a body that shivers like the wind. If only to God they’ll surrender, like the Phoenix they’ll rise from the ashes. Ambition races in their soul, the present is in a hurry to fade away and the future seems ready to come but there’s an impediment that threatens to sink their Titanic. If only to God they’ll run, that Titanic will sail. When they try to choose between the deep red sea and the devil, forgetting that either leads to a dead end. If only in their anxiety, they’ll take a minute to look up and take hold of the hand of grace that has hung for centuries then a new dawn will break forth.

      Chapter One

      Sarah Okoro, a dedicated Christian served God zealously during her undergraduate days in the Redeemed Christian fellowship. During this period of her life, she also saw many youths who worked their butts off, all for God. It pleased her. But amongst the multitude of workers, Richard, the head of the evangelism unit stood out. She admired him a lot. In short, if you’d asked her at that time, she would have told you Richard was on fire for God. Rumour had it that he usually got to the fellowship centre first. Yes, even before the student pastor. He assisted the technical unit in carrying and fixing the instruments. Unlike other male workers who believed the cleaning of the fellowship grounds should be done solely by the female folks, Richard lent a helping hand. He fetched water, dusted, swept, and mopped the floor. He could be likened to a soldier who stood fiercely in protection of something he loved so that it would always stand come rain or sunshine. He loved his God, Jehovah Jireh. Tirelessly, he worked to make sure that the fellowship ran smoothly. To the best of her knowledge, he was the only student who read his bible in the library.

      Exactly two years after school, Richard walked into S & T Insurance, the company where Sarah now worked as an insurer. The re-union of these Christian workers was wonderful. Colleagues who witnessed Sarah giggling and Richard looking at her tenderly assumed they had a romantic relationship going on. How wrong they were! In her mind’s eye, Richard would only court a lady if he saw Jesus shining right out of her life. At least, the life he lived in school testified of his great love for God.

      “So, why have you come here?” Sarah asked after the surprise had worn off.

      Richard replied in a matter of fact tone. “My boss sent me to give this proposal set to the head of human resources here, Mr. Chigozie Okelue. My firm deals in the best of electronics and presently, we’re offering a 10% discount on all our products to current and potential customers willing to patronise us this valentine’s season. S & T Insurance is a major customer and good promotional specialist, hence this proposal.”

      Sarah nodded taking in his appearance with pleasure. One striking thing she remembered about Richard apart from his love for God, was the fact that his perfectly shaped eyebrows, reddish pink lips, intimidating height, round, fresh and ebony coloured face made him the most handsome man she had ever seen, after her father. It reminded her of the popular saying that black is beautiful. She turned her head to the right, appreciating his princely looks from that angle, the same good looks that had kept her awake most nights in school wishing they could be friends. That never happened but now, it seemed nature wanted to grant her that wish. She wouldn’t throw it away. If the truth must be told, she had a crazy crush on him in those days.

      Richard continued in his sleek manner oblivious to her thoughts. “Anyway, I must not forget to say that you look better than I remember.”

      That singular compliment made her consider herself more like a queen than dad’s entire compliments put together. The conscionable voice within her screamed, Betrayer. She ignored it, savouring the joy that sprang up in her heart. Had he given her this compliment in school, she would have openly shivered with pleasure but not now. She had grown. She was a mature and confident young woman capable of maintaining a perfect composure even as her heart leaped in excitement, knocking off blood here and there, sending her internal motions in an overdrive. She raised her head as her eyelashes batted on their own accord. “Thank you, but I must also say that I looked good in school too. You never noticed because you were such a spiricoco.” (Spiricoco: slang for a seriously God-minded person).

      Richard looked away briefly, laughing as he did so. His eyes twinkled, oozing out sincerity mixed with a touch of amazement. In her inner world, his laughter transformed to a bubbly ocean dancing to the roar of huge waves and as he bowed his head still laughing, she pictured the ocean rising and overflowing to the shores, overwhelmed at the wave’s joy clearly expressed in its rumbles.

      “Spiricoco? Possibly,” he conceded as his scintillating gaze shifted from her face to her handbag and his brows furrowed together in confusion. “You’re with your handbag. Does this mean that you’re about to leave the office already?”

      “Richard, yes I am. I need to take my blackberry to a phone repairer before my boss gets to the office. Since it fell into my plate of stew, it has been malfunctioning.” She kept the golden straps of her handbag securely on her shoulders and carried on. “For two months now, I’ve been using this small Nokia phone.” She waved the Nokia phone at him offhandedly, displeasure etched on her face.

      Richard held his ribs as he laughed while a confused Sarah stared at him agape. Slightly irritated that he might have been laughing at her cheap phone, she kept it back in her hand bag, and her entire body unconsciously stiffened. “Did I say something funny?”

      “Yes, my dear. I have never heard of a person’s phone falling into a plate of stew. What were you thinking of?”

      She spiralled down memory lane to the day of the incident. She had come back from work that day really tired and unlike other days, had been upset. The bus she had entered appeared to be cursed. The disheveled driver was utterly drunk, and she had not noticed it before entering. He kept driving like the bus ought to be flying and the numerous pleas from the passengers, hers included, proved insufficient to make him reduce his speed. In fact, it seemed that as their plea increased, he received momentum to drive faster, overlooking police standpoints and roadblocks. Unable to bear the fear brewing in her heart, she got down before her final bus-stop and trekked home, saying a short prayer in her heart for the poor passengers who were obviously considering the amount they had paid and probably how many miles they still had to cover before they reached their destination. Soaked in sweat and seething at the temerity of the man to drive drunk, she dropped her bag, proceeded to the kitchen and served some stew in a U-shaped glass plate and rice in a flat one. Her mother had not yet gotten home so there was no one to air her grievances to. As she sat at the dining table, contemplating how to ensure that drivers like that never plied the road in Lagos again, her phone rang. She shouldn’t have bothered with it because it disconnected the minute she picked it. She hissed and continued eating. Wendy really needed to learn how to call people. She was about to ring her up when the door bell reverberated. Sure it was mom, she dropped the phone carelessly then grabbed the key at the center of the table. As usual, after opening the door, she hugged her and poured out the details of her gory experience with the driver. Mom listened with rapt attention, opening her mouth and clapping her hands at the right places. Yes, she even laid curses on the drunk driver. Mrs. Okoro was at this when she remembered that she had wanted to give Wendy a call. She excused herself and walked

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