memoirs of a lagos playboy: part v
By Malcolm O. Ifi

About this book

I never got to hear from Kemi again after the last time she came over to my place. After her note, I didn’t bother to call. I was so sure that I had finally sent my strongest message yet concerning attachments. In retrospect, it occurred to me that I may have had the sweetest revenge but it was still a pyrrhic victory. I had lost a lot more than she did. My work schedule had suddenly become stiffer and I was grateful for it. It kept my mind from wandering to sad thoughts; the thoughts that seemed to share my apartment with me. The thoughts crept on me like a ghost whenever I was home alone. Sometimes, I would perceive the peculiar aroma of the fried rice Christy loved to cook on saturdays; at other times, I’d detect a faint whiff of her perfume coming from nowhere. Her spirit was still very much alive in my house as much as my heart. Two days ago, I called her phone with a new number I’d purchased, just in case she wouldn’t pick my calls, with a resolve to plead with her. As I listened to the ring of her phone, my heart pounded furiously like the thumping of the synchronized foot-steps of an army of giants. When she answered...Find out what happened in Part V of the Lagos Playboy... Noticed an error in this book? Send a mail to to report it

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