Story: Treasure And The Lucky Digger (1)

Provided you are a non-writer and a reader who isn’t familiar with this style; this story is narrated in POINT OF VIEW of two main characters – FESTUS and SHARON.


As much as I tried holding it back, this wicked wind kept seizing the stapled papers from my hold. Our exam was few weeks away and I needed to consume the content in this handout early enough. The cool atmosphere was made intense by the shade of the giant mango tree that dominated our leisure-garden.

The stylized metal chairs were arranged at strategic angles of the spacious territory. The vicinity wasn’t conducive enough for reading for its rowdiness, but my brain really desired a cool spot before it could absorb tough information such as this psychology. As far as coolness is concerned my brain is adapted to noise. Right in front of me was one vacant seat. The other seats were occupied by various young couples and mob of boys that were gossiping about girls that were passing by. Those guys were seventeen in number. Their aim was to identify girls with positive, semi-positive and negative names.

If they saw a particular girl they would all mouth-whistle, and immediately such girl took a backward glance, they would pretend looking somewhere else while shouting MARKET DON FINISH. That simply meant many of them had slept with the girl. They would call ROOKIE when the girl had slept with a few of them, and finally S.U if the girl was very strict to approach.

At the end of their shouts they would all explode with a mocking laughter. I began to wonder if those guys were all secret cult members. Otherwise, what gave them the nerve to be insulting any girls on campus? Anyway, they were all good-looking and majority had statures chicks would definitely die for – tallness and fitness. I deemed it fit that they were all ‘players’ if they were not really cultists. Those girls ( the negative and semi-positive bearers) must have sold away their dignities to LUST. If they had stuck to only one guy, would they ever face such dehumanization?

In the midst of my own gossip I didn’t realize that my handout had been wrenched away from my grip by the wind. As I began to pick them up one after the other I noticed a hand beside me. I lifted my face only to get my heart crashed as if struck by a thunder lightening. I was taken aback by the sight of this girl whose kind of beauty I had never seen in my life. Her chocolate skin agreed with her plump and shapely figure. It was as though she was created with those wears – The white skimpy skirt defined her moderate butt, while the cleavage of her round boobs could be seen through the exposed part of the red armless top.

“I don’t want to step on it. That’s why I picked this up.” She muttered as she handed the piece of paper to me.

“Okay. That’s kind of you.” I said.

Before She settled on the seat right in front of me, she waved at one big man that was just starting the engine of his hummer jeep just beside the garden. I guessed she alighted from that jeep. That must be her man friend.

She produced a text book from her hand bag. She crossed her legs and focused her attention on the book. At this moment I also made up my mind to study. I started reading, but the contents didn’t find their way into my head anymore. For a moment I began to stare at her while drinking in her beauty. Whenever she wanted to reveal her face I would quickly bury my face back in the handout. It felt as though my heart was going to blast off. The urge to approach this girl kept gnawing at me in every air I breathe. Literally, It wasn’t like I had never seen a girl that beautiful or that my ex- girlfriend wasn’t as beautiful or nearly. But there seemed to be something about her that defied any explanation.

At this moment our eyes were almost connected and I saw a seductive look in her killing eyeballs. A Seductive look? That must be my wishful thinking – she might even be snubbing me with that look. It was obvious that this babe had come from a rich home. I could see no speck of blemish on the exposed part of her body – like she wasn’t nurtured in this country. Her golden jewelry looked natural and her wears were apparently from the best designers. In short, she waz a biggest girlz! – according to our slang in the hostel.

For me, poverty was our surname. I was a hustler. I engaged in various jobs to sponsor myself to school. Most times I applied as servers at prestigious parties during the weekends, and I earned some money from stage dancing too. And it was through those money I got myself all my second hand designers. I couldn’t spend lavishly on my appearance because knowledge was my priority. All these facts must be the reason why I felt inferior to approach this goddess.


Why couldn’t he just start a conversation with me when I helped him picked up that slip from the ground? I wish he could just ask my name after mumbling that compliment. He must be too engrossed in the book he was reading. When our eyes met he couldn’t just fix his eyes into mine to know that I felt for him. I needed to pretend as if I was reading; if not, he would be suspicious about my crush. If I hadn’t held this book, I bet I wouldn’t do anything but stare at him all the while. But now I could be stealing a glance at him to know whether he was also interested in me. I persuaded Dad to drop me off here because of him.

He was just my type of guy – huge, dark in complexion, with fine parted lips. This wasn’t my first time of seeing him. The first time was when he was dancing on stage with his crew. On that day I heard somebody call him Festus. I learnt he was in 300 level – a year ahead of me.

Oh my goodness! His attention was still absorbed by that stupid book. I wonder why he was reading so hard when exam was still four weeks away. I gotta use one craft to make him speak with me.

“Hey!” I waved my right hand to gesture at him.

He revealed his face only to glance left and right like a watchful criminal.

“I’m the one calling you,” I tried to pull out emotion from my voice, “hope I haven’t disturbed you. My wrist watch has stopped and the time on my phone isn’t correct. I wonder what time is it on your wrist watch.”

He took a glance at his watch and told me the time was 4:21pm.

“Oh, thank you so much,” I smiled at him, “I thought the time was 3’oclock … Don’t you think it’s wearing out quickly today?”

“How … how do you mean?” He said with a slight puzzled look.

“I mean the climate is just too irregular these days,” I slid out my tongue playfully while narrowing my eyes into seductive slits, “sometimes the day would run fast and slowly other times. What could be the cause of that?”

Now he was turning over the handout to another page. Then he said, “ Hmn … Sometimes, I think it’s a geographical factor and other times it appears like that to us. I am not really sure because I’m not a science student.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I shrugged indifferently. This was another opportunity for me to harness the conversation, “So you are what student then?”

“A creative Art student,” he said and continued reading.

“Wow! That’s really great.” I said, fiddling with my phone.

I already knew his faculty, but I ought to feign that total strangeness. I didn’t want to tell him I’d once seen him dancing – some guys tend to feel superior when women begin to compliment them. They would quickly realize that the woman was having a second motive. And I didn’t want to make that obvious.

It seemed he was getting interested in me. At least he was responding well to my questions. Oh, Poor Sharon! He might just be jovial in personality. Men’s taste are really hard to judge. He might be interested in the conversation, and nothing more. I didn’t mind if he would have lust for me, at least. Lust could graduate to love … No, no, no. That is not possible. I wish he would just love me once and for all. I really, really felt for him.

This feeling was quite funny. Of course, he wasn’t the first cute guy I had ever met. Yes. I could tell when I had a pure lust for a dude. Some people believed love couldn’t be detected at first sight, but lust. That philosophy didn’t seem to work for me. This was my second time of having this strange feeling. The first guy I ever loved broke my heart into pieces few years back. He was my senior in high school. We made love countless times at every corner of the school as we were both in the boarding. Immediately he graduated from school, he left for UK without informing me. He was now studying there. When I reached him on phone he bluntly told me he was no longer interested in the relationship. He told me he had met another life partner. It was then I realized that the guy never loved me. I should have known. He would ask for sex almost every day and hardly would I refuse. I had cried and cried that I almost committed suicide. I told Daddy that I wanted to go study in the UK – inwardly, Nigeria was my choice. I just wanted to meet him and probably kill him and kill myself. Unfortunately Dad didn’t permit me to study abroad. So….

“May I know what faculty you are?” Festus’ voice aborted my thought.

“Bus. admin. – Accounting department.”

“That’s good…You must be very good at math.” He remarked, and I could sense enthusiasm in his voice.

Oh, I had finally got him on the move.

I hummed for a moment and said, “I am trying. And you? I mean what course are you good at?”

He chuckled and said, “Me, I am good at nothing in particular.”

“You don’t mean it,” I smiled broadly while adjusting on my seat.

“I am serious.” He said. But no look of that seriousness on his face.

“Alright then.” I smiled and asked him what handout he was reading, he told me it was psychology. I asked his level and I told him mine. I was actually expecting him to ask my name. How would I make him ask my name?


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