I have always wondered which Homosapien coined the words "horny" and "boner". It never made sense. The male thing is not a rod of calcium, not a horn and not a bone. It took me just one night to discover the truth.

There are places in Udi that the innocent should never find, places that corrupt even a dove . You go in white with preened feathers and come out all besmirched with the dirtiest dirt. I passed it everyday on my way to school, watching as the muezzins call out prayers in the early evening and the goldsmiths grin their white teeth in garish contrast with their melanin. It was like a Mini Kano with fulani everything. This is where you found the Daughters of Jezebel.

When you hear such names like that, know you are in for trouble. Sweet trouble, if you're a bad guy with money. You only had to pay 5k for a glorious fuck. Rich guys patronised these women. I imagined a future where I had enough money to spend on the bosom of these women, the fuller ones; to splurge on the twerk of their mountainous behinds for the fun of it while stirring up sweet things in my loins. These were stupid thoughts and I wanted them but Desire is one thing and Action is another.

Poposki was the catalyst. A long thin boy who bent with the wind like a feather. He was the typical good boy in class. Always did his homeworks, always answered questions, always gave a good joke and always stared and stared. He stared at Emem, at Idara, at Nkoyo, even gorrilla Uyai. I had always wondered why such a name was given to that girl. Uyai meant beauty. But she was Ugly. So Ugly, I had to add the pre-word Damn most times. I believe her parents were blind when they named her or maybe they hoped the name would change her face somehow; like a drug to cure ugliness.

If there was one thing she had, it was fullness front and back. She knew this was her only chance to attract man-prey, so she used it, swaying it to and fro while our hearts longed for a touch of her butt apples. I was one of the few who were not interested, her face was scary enough. So while all the guys could have her — the easiest fish to catch; I could not, I did not want to and that is why I asked Poposki for help.

We strolled by Udi one evening and I opened up to him about how I felt like I needed to lay a woman. How I needed it badly.

"Orr..at last, " he chuckled

 I told him one of those daughters of Jezebel would be perfect for me and he agreed. So I made preparations for the evening of my disvirgining. I got a loan of 4k from a friend. I was not a rich boy and I squatted with Poposki and his naughty friends. The 1k I had was saved up after starving myself during the week; 010 regimen. I had all the tools now: a male thing, 5k, advice from Poposki on the right method and skill and vicious lust.

Popiski knew how to get to daughters. It was a knowledge only the informed knew. These lust goddesses did not parade themselves for business although they hid in plain sight. Some even wore Fulani shawls, covering their eyes and chanting Allah. But Poposki knew their language and he hooked me up with a client.

I was blinded with a cloth on my way in.One of the precautions the daughters took, then they left me at the door that read:

"Anything you want."

This is where the word boner comes in. I had one instanta. I saw the assorted types of women I could choose from. Long, wide, petite, fresh, succulent. Name it.

Then I chose one. The petite.

" Careful boy," one of the women said, she is a tiger.

Me, boy, I said, chuckling. I will show her, don't worry.

I was surprised at how much lust gave me the courage to speak such things. It was strange to me and I loved it.

We went in to the room and the doors were closed. As it began, the next words came in superlative terms; the ones the Homosapiens call horny. I was a horn that became hornier by the minute. At that moment, I was the bonest of them all. I could feel my male thing shoot forth like the branch of an Iroko tree and I swear when I touched it, it was bone. Harder than bone. It was a brown cylindrical horn with a red capping, growing still. I smiled, half-believing, the Homosapien was right.

THE LAST GRIP

Now you're left with the very last grip

The last grip on existence

When what all the ears do is ring

The ringing of a world between 

One that beckons.Come on! it's over

And the other standing idly by

When your breath fails

Deep, laboured, and forlorn

From a chest fully yours till now

You gasp, you really gasp

Bleary eyes, a reddened face

A soiree with a thousand thoughts

You never fed her, made her hair or played the grandmother

Onto Life, I desperately call

But the sweat drops so gracefully effusing

The ringing, truer

And vision, now of forms

A coldness, dark and sulky grips

My tears begin a saunter

All of me, in a mortal world

Served in one last breath of misty air

I had so much to give her

Behemoths of love and encomiums

By Ik Inyang