Mama had gone to the market and papa to work when uncle Ngwa, papa’s best friend, came in with this girl.

She was tall, about 1,75m, 20 years of age perhaps. She had long dark curly hair falling down her shoulders, bumping and bouncing as she went along. Her colour was dark ebony and she walked with the graceful gait of a cat. She had the face of an angel and her body was one to die for.

She was wearing a black neck-halter blouse, fitting tight to every curve of her angelic body. Her breasts underneath her blouse were firm and subtle, with the rounded nipple imprinted clearly at the front. Her slim-tight fitting white jeans brought out the roundness and firmness of her taut bottoms, doing things to my blood pressure a visit to the doctor wouldn’t help.

As they came closer, she looked at me. Her eyes were hazel, a combination of brown and green. It was the most beautiful eyes I ever saw. I never saw such colours before in an African woman. I was enveloped in them, sucked up and packaged off, lost and thrown away forever. And then she smiled at me. A kind of heat break through my body, as I shivered as if cold. I looked into her eyes, enveloped in her smile and I knew I was lost forever.

I went to uncle Ngwa, hugged him as I took his briefcase. “Welcome uncle.”

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