Panic flooded her face. She scrambled off the bed and dressed with the speed of light, cursing herself under her breath for falling asleep so late. She was visibly terrified. I was even more worried. By now they must have been searching for her. If she was caught leaving my room, that would mean disaster; the money, the scam, my life, everything could collapse in an instant.
She didn’t even take the second food flask. When I asked what story she would tell them, she shook her head quickly.
“Don’t bother yourself. I will handle it,” but I could tell she had no plan yet. Eleven was an odd hour for a married woman to be out.
She wrapped the large scarf around her head, neck, and chest exactly as she had arrived, covering the thin strap and open chest region of the gown, then she slipped out of the room like a shadow. I did not follow her.
I stayed inside so no one would see us together.
The moment the door closed, I sat on the edge of the bed, heart still racing, and began final preparations for my journey. I already knew the route, the one that led toward the market. Tomorrow was market day in the neighbouring town Ishoki, the small by the west, which meant bikes and buses would be moving very early.
But first, I still had one more task. I had to catch the thief. The distraction was necessary.
I did not sleep after Eniola left. Too many thoughts raced through my mind. I had been so confident about catching the thief that I had never properly considered what would happen if the plan failed.
If I could not produce him, I would still have to disappear. A cold certainty settled in my gut: the real inspector was likely to arrive that very day. My instincts had never failed me in tight situations before.
If the feeling was this strong, then it was probably true. I remembered the conversation in the bus; the town accepted me without doubt because they were eagerly expecting the real inspector. He was supposed to have arrived.
I waited a long while after Eniola’s departure before finally stepping out into the cold night. The receptionist was nowhere in the lobby. I went straight to the spot behind the guesthouse where I had previously found his tools.
The sack, the mask, the machete- everything was gone. He had already left for his night’s work.
I crossed the road. Lekan emerged from the shadows near the small fence beside the Baale’s house, a machete in his hand.
The first thing he said was that he had seen the Baale’s fourth wife sneaking out of the guesthouse earlier.
I smiled easily. “That was what I wanted to tell you when I asked about her earlier. She’s been fucking someone in the guesthouse.”
The lie came out smooth and natural. It covered everything. I told him to stay alert. “I believe we will catch the thief tonight. Be ready for my whistle.”
Lekan looked at me with sudden suspicion. “Do you already know who it is?”
I wanted to tell, but I only smiled instead. “I have an idea. Just wait for the whistle.”
I returned to the guesthouse and hid myself in the darkness at the back, exactly where I knew the thief would pass on his return.
The thick piece of wood was in my hands. The rope and whistle sat heavy in my pocket. I waited.
Somewhere in one of the rooms, a man was fucking a woman with brutal force. Her loud wails drifted through the night. I felt a brief, dark smile.
That was exactly how I had taken the Chief’s wife only hours earlier. I wondered if anyone outside had heard us.
Nearly three hours passed. I began to wonder if Lekan was still waiting, or if he had grown tired and resumed his normal patrol. Then, sometime past three a.m in the morning, I heard soft footsteps.
A shadow appeared first. Then the figure itself, tiptoeing carefully, the familiar sack bag slung over his shoulder after another successful robbery. I held my breath and tightened my grip on the wood until my knuckles ached.
I let him pass completely. Then I stepped out silently behind him.
He sensed my presence and began to turn, raising his machete, but the heavy wood crashed down on his shoulder first. The machete and sack dropped instantly.
He staggered and tried to run. I struck him again, this time hard across the head. He collapsed with a loud yell, writhing on the ground. I hit his knees several times in rapid succession, weakening his legs so he could not escape. Only then did I pull out the whistle and blow it with all my strength.
Within seconds, Lekan came running, another man close behind him. They both skidded to a halt and stared, stunned, at the sight of the dreaded cutlass thief lying helpless on the ground. I pulled out the rope Lekan had given me earlier.
Together we bound the receptionist tightly with his own rope and dragged him toward the town square.
Before dawn, the news had exploded across Amili. Everyone was rushing toward the town square: The land inspector had caught the cutlass thief.
Leave while the ovation is still high, I told myself, because they had no idea that I was the bigger thief of them all.
I slipped away from the growing crowd that had gathered to gawk at the captured man as he confessed to all the crimes and attacks. No one noticed me when I left.
I hurried back to the guesthouse, grabbed my backpack, and took the quieter road that led toward the local market. Buses and motorcycles moved in every direction, connecting Amili to the neighbouring Ishoki. The perfect cover.
The bike man did not know me. I could tell immediately he was not from Amili. He charged an outrageous fare because he said the journey was long, normally a bus route. But I agreed without argument. I had enough money to buy him and his motorcycle several times over.
As soon as we started the journey, he asked if I was new to the area. I told him I was a corps member heading to my place of primary assignment. He accepted the story easily and spent most of the ride talking about the big news: how a government inspector had single-handedly caught the notorious cutlass thief early that morning.
I smiled the entire time. He had no idea he was speaking to the very man he was praising… or that a far bigger thief was sitting behind him with millions of stolen money on his back. Let Amili enjoy its temporal peace.
By the time they finally understood what had truly happened, they would realise a more dangerous predator had walked among them and left with their hard-earned money.
I did not go directly to my real destination. All those years under Baba Cash at the HK had not been wasted. I had learned from one of the biggest fraudsters in the city.
Misdirection was everything. Instead of heading straight out of the region, I went first to Ileyin, a much larger and more populated town that Lekan had mentioned the previous day while educating me about the area.
If anyone ever tracked down this bike man and forced him to talk, they would start searching for me in Ileyin.
The ride was long. We stopped twice at fuel stations before finally rolling into Ileyin in full morning light.
I paid the man, added a generous tip, and waited until his bike disappeared completely before I moved. Ileyin had a noisy, restless city energy, traders, buses, shops, and plazas everywhere, a sharp contrast to the quiet deceit of Amili. I melted into the flow of people and did not look back.
I immediately took another bike, this one bound for Isherin, yet another false destination. I was travelling in careful circles, leaving a trail that led nowhere useful.
By mid-afternoon I finally reached my true stop: Atele, the small community just before Amili where Banke had alighted from the bus on that first day. LOL Yes.
I am the most stupid risk-taker you will ever meet. Despite everything, I still had the nerve to go after Banke in Atele, the other lady I’d met on the bus that first day.
Atele was similar to Amili, small and relatively quiet but slightly busier. I stopped at a store to get a few items for my host. I just hoped she would still remember me and what she had told me on the bus a few days ago.
I remembered the exact area where the bus had dropped Banke that afternoon: a place called Ifo in Atele. Navigating was easy. I arrived at Ifo with ease, and after asking at only three shops, someone pointed across the road to a small wooden tailor’s shop.
I stopped in front of it and slowly leaned my head inside. The first thing I saw was her large, round ass. She stood at a wide cutting table with her back to the entrance, focused on slicing fabric.
The sight instantly reminded me of Abeni’s powerful ass—curvier, more rounded and sculpted. Banke was thicker, heavier, almost overwhelming in size,
Something must have alerted her. She turned sharply. Her eyes went wide. Her jaw dropped. “You…” she exclaimed.
At first, I could not tell whether the shock was pure happiness or something more complicated. Then I saw it clearly—she was genuinely excited to see me.
She recovered quickly and invited me inside. “I never thought you would come,” she said, eyes bright. She rushed out immediately and returned with a cold soft drink from a nearby shop. We sat down and talked for a long while.
I fed her the same lie I had given the bike man: that I was a corps member freshly posted to Amili and that I was on my way out of Amili but only decided to stop by and see her before I continued my journey away.
Then at one point she asked if I planned to return the same day. When I said yes, her face fell. “No ooo. I won’t let you leave today.” She teased,
“You must be tired,” Banke said. She reached for my backpack, lifted it, felt the weight, and gave it a little shake. “What do you have inside?” she asked with a curious smile.
I forced a light laugh and carefully, stylishly took the bag back from her hands, praying she wouldn’t insist on opening it. She accepted the nylon containing the bread and juice I had bought for her from a store earlier, then she told me to follow her.
I walked behind Banke as she led the way. My eyes stayed fixed on the heavy, rhythmic shake and jiggle of her ass inside her skirt. The memory of how that same thick backside had pressed against me on the bus the first day returned with full force.
We took a narrow path behind the shop that opened into a large compound. An old one-storey building sat in the middle. She climbed the staircase ahead of me. “This is where I stay,” she said.
There was nothing special about the living room. The interior reminded me uncomfortably of Aduke’s house. The same one where I had fucked her. Old wooden furniture, faded suede cushions, a tired rug. Nothing modern.
“My father and mother are in the city for medical checkups at my elder sister’s place,” Banke explained. “So I stay alone for now… except when my friend comes around.”
Then she grabbed my hand. “Let me show you my room.”
Banke pulled me down a short passage and into a small, sparsely furnished bedroom that had just an old wardrobe, a bed, and a dresser. The moment we stepped inside and the door closed behind us, something snapped in her.
Banke snatched the backpack from my hand and flung it into the corner of the room without a second glance. Before I could react, she grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me toward the old bed.
We collapsed onto the mattress together in a tangle of limbs and urgent hands.
She attacked my clothes with frantic energy. Her fingers tore at my belt, yanked it open, and shoved roughly into my trousers. She pulled my already stiff cock free, gripping it tightly as if she had been starving for it.
At the same time, I dragged her skirt up around her waist, hooked my fingers into her panties, and ripped them down her legs. She kicked them off impatiently and spread her thighs wide, exposing her glistening, ready pussy.
Written by Tito
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