I remember my father used to tell me that the only way to deal with men successfully was to be ruthless with them. He used to tell me while I was growing up.
“No successful man standing in life ever made it without being ruthless. Life is ruthless in itself,” he’d said.
Now I know for sure that I will have to employ a form of ruthlessness to achieve the desire of my heart. You see, ruthless men are never failures and being ruthless means being able to do anything, however terrible without sentiments or the feeling of guilt. These can come afterwards, after the deed that would definitely go away with the passage of time.
It is in this frame of mind that I have resolved to kill my own brother, Charles, so as to get his fiancee, Anita, the woman whom I long so much for.
Anita is the most exquisitely beautiful woman who walks on the surface of this earth. My eyes have never seen a person more beautiful than she is, there isn’t even any comparable to her. She is gracefully tall, slender with generous bosom. She has a heart-shaped face that had a graceful beauty of a doll; full cheeked and the most chocolate complexioned. She had the most perfect body. From the very first moment I’d set eyes on her; my senses had known no rest. My heart had longed endlessly after her; and a desperate desire to be blessed by her love. Hers was that cherubic look, that large, soft vulnerable mouth of infantine sweetness that expressed the rare union of happiness and love. That very first moment as admiration possessed me, my proud emotion was a declaration in my heart that she must be mine. There was no way even the opening of rose in May could be sweeter than this glorious beauty. A radiation of beauty just spread all over her. Her face, her form, her step, her voice and even to her nails. Oh, I’d wished I could harrow her heart and profane her lips with an oath that she would be mine. But she is Charles’ fiancee, my younger brother.
I’d first come in control with Anita when Charles, who was based in South Africa came home in September with his fiancee. Before then, he had in his letter and telephone calls told me about his Nigerian girlfriend whom he’d met in Cape Town and whom he was deeply in love with and hoped to marry. I’d been happy for him. Charles and I were the two elders in the family. I was the oldest and he was two years younger. Peter was the last born and he came after four girls. Our little difference in age made us very close in our growing up days. Four years ago, he got a job at a telecommunications company in South Africa and left.
“This is my big brother Frank”, Charles had introduced me to his fiancee when I’d gone to pick them from the airport.
Frankie, this is my babe, Anita, she is a Nigerian:’
I’d been stuck to the spot as I stared at her with fascinated eyes. I’d never been so carried away by such a sufficient beauty. In my mesmerized state, I extended hand. She was smiling and it was just too dazzling for me to hold myself. My heart was pounding so fast and all my emotions and hormones were released as so many biological and chemical reactions began to take place within me.
1 opened my mouth to welcome her but something else came forth. “You’re beautiful;’ I muttered in an obviously enthralled voice.
“Thank you”, she said. “And you are very handsome.
” I’d never heard a voice so sweet of my 32 years in life. This one sounded too ethereal. “I told you she’s very beautiful,” Charles reminded me proudly.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “Yeah, you did but she is more than very beautiful. She looks like an angel to me; in fact, more than an angel. This is English romance novel;’ I said.
“Oh”, she said. “I feel so flattered that I’m the one being so exaggeratedly described”. The fast pounding of my heart would not permit me to say a word but to stare at her. I led them to the car and we hit the road. I was behind the wheel and
kept stealing glances at this beautiful angel who was sitting in the back seat from the car mirror. My mind was in a riot. Her skin
was velvet smooth and soft and flawless. No, this woman must be mine. I had to take her, I had it in my mind.
The entire family was happy to see Charles after four years. He had changed a great deal. He was now a man with a very matured carriage and disposition. The family was very pleased to meet Anita. Everyone talked about her exquisite beauty
and how lovely she looked. “She is far more beautiful than Tosin”, I overheard one of my younger sisters telling ‘another; Tosin was my immediate ex- girlfriend. I’d hoped to marry her because she was beautiful, but then, I discovered dismally that she was sleeping around so I gave her the boots. I did it ruthlessly. I got a lot of pleadings from friends on her behalf but I’d have been a majestic fool if I’d accepted. After Tosin, I’d said that the question of women with me should rest for the time being. But seeing Anita, everything had changed.
“How long do you hope to be in Nigeria?” I asked Charles the following morning while we were on the breakfast table.
“I’ve come to stay for long. The whole quarter, I hope to return in the first week of January. By then, I’d have gone to see Anita’s parents, we plan to be wedded on the last Saturday of the year and that is December 27, two days after Christmas;’
My brother replied.
“Your parents are in Nigeria?” mum asked Anita gleefully. That beguiling smile came to her face again and I was dazzled.
“Yes ma. They are in Agbor in Delta State. They used to be in Lagos before my Dad retired from the civil service and moved home,” she replied. My attention was captured by her and as she talked, I took details of her lips, those luscious lips that was
so tempting and alluring and seemed so inviting as if beckoning for an attack.
Time went on and my desire for my brother’s fiancée increased. I so much wanted her, so much to the extent that no other lady mattered to me. Anita was the bone of my wish and my desire to have her was increasing by the day.
Many times I have stumbled upon them cuddling and necking like two teenagers madly in love for the first time. Each time I saw them, my heart would be stung and I’d feel wounded, it was then I knew I’d become jealous of Charles. And with time, animosity for my beloved brother crept into my heart secretly, I began to despise Charles and wish him ill.
To be continued…