Chola’s Love Storm: A Tale of Unforgotten Love – Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Final Instalment


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


“Hello…” Racheal had to unglue the phone from my shaking hands.

“Hi Rachael, it’s me Patricia,” came a female’s voice from the other end of the line.

Of course at this point I had no idea what the conversation was about so my imagination was running wild…and off it went!

It was only later when Rachael filled in the blanks that I found out what was being said on the other end of the line.
“Oh Patricia!”

Forget having peed earlier…I was shaking so hard I could feel the enzymes having a tough time discussing how best to handle the lunch I was just from eating.

Did Rachael just say Oh Patricia…and is that a smile I’m seeing on her face???

Um um…something ain’t right here.

What the hell is going on?

“I am so sorry,” Rachael was saying. “I had forgotten to save your number from the last time we met; I had a lot going on that day.”

“Its fine dear, I understand,” Patricia replied.

“Is everything alright? You sound a bit….”

“Ah, you can tell….”

“Of course I can!” Rachael said rather too enthusiastically. “Occupational hazard I guess. Is it something you can share with me…I could come and….”

“No, it’s fine,” Patricia quickly replied. “I am actually on a cab right now heading to Intercity…that’s why I called….”

“What?” Rachael quipped.

“Something came up suddenly,” Patricia said. “You remember I told you about my husband and I….” her voice was getting shaky by now.

“Yes,” said Rachael, a serious expression enveloping her face as she went to sit by the dinner table on the other side of the living room.

I mentally braced myself for the worst case scenario.

“Well, he finally signed the divorce papers,” Patricia announced.

“Oh no, he didn’t!” Rachael was almost jumping from the chair.

I had frozen on the spot with only my facial features moving in reaction to whatever words came out of Rachael’s mouth.

There was something paradoxical yet comical about the whole situation playing before me. I was literally wrinkling in my fear like an uncircumcised adolescent boy after taking a long cold shower.
It was the first time in my life that I found myself at a loss for what to do.

“Yes,” Patricia went on with her conversation absolutely oblivious to my physical and mental state.

It was as if she was mocking me…carrying on her conversation without throwing hints at me as to whether I was in hot soup or not.

A man needs a strategy before going into battle you know.

“I am afraid I really messed up big this time around.” Patricia cried.

“Calm down sweetie,” Rachael said soothingly.

Calm down sweetie?? Heh.

I wasn’t sure whether to like or hate the direction the conversation seemed to be going. It left me utterly confused and miserable. It looked like the devil had come to collect his dues.

I just had to sit down this time, my hand rubbing my head into near baldness. I couldn’t take the suspense any more and falling down to the floor while my fiancé was having a conversation with someone that sounded like a friend wasn’t going to go down well for my sorry and sinful ass.

“I can only imagine what you must be going through. But, isn’t there a way you can get him to change his mind?” Rachael asked.

Did she already know what had happened? Change whose mind?

Gosh, I hated the suspense! I was dying there…

I am finished…I am ruined.

Those were the thoughts going through my head as I kept listening to one side of the conversation.

“I wish I knew how but I think this time he is really done with me. He found George and me making out on the dance floor at a club and he completely lost it.”

“Oh my gosh!” Rachael exclaimed. “You were making out at a club? Are you insane! You are a married woman for crying out loud.”

Tata Lesa nafwa ine….oy oy…aaaah

I got up from the sofa and started pacing back and forth, pretending to be doing something on my phone when both my antennas were fixed on her.

What about the club? I didn’t make out with her at the club…it was at Nchimunya’s place….

What the hell is wrong with me? Is the venue the issue right now?

This is what happens when you use your balls to make decisions.

And then I was brought to a sudden and very sad realisation;

I had made out with my fiancé’s friend!

Oh dear. Oh Lord.

I am so screeeewed. Mayooo….

As I stood there watching Rachael’s expression turn from sober to grim, a picture of my obituary in the Post Newspaper flashed before my eyes.

Suddenly, there was this strange taste on my tongue…like the kind you get when your teeth suddenly collide with a nasty rotten groundnut after enjoying a steady supply of proteins.

“I understand,” Racheal was nodding.

What did she understand?

“Just pray over it and let’s wait for a miracle. You never know what happens. And don’t worry about missing the wedding; I am sure you will get to meet my husband in the near future. Travel safely and do take care of yourself, okay.”

“Thanks Rachael, you too.”


* * *

“Who um…was…that?”

I asked the moment the call ended, trying to come off as unconcerned as possible and painfully failing.

I hoped my usually alert fiancé would not notice.

“You are sweating like hell!” She went in for the kill.

I am in hell right now if you must know my lovely woman. What the hell is going on?

Rachael went into the bedroom and came back with a towel which she threw at me.
“I told you to get an AC for this room. One day I will find you boiling in here.”

Boiling, you think? I am getting roasted right now…tsk tsk tsk.

Was she playing games with me?

“Who was that you were talking to?” I asked again.

“That was Patricia….” she let out a heavy sigh after saying the name.

That didn’t sound promising, for me at least.

“We were roomies back at UNZA,” she had come to sit next to me. “She was three years ahead of me but we still got along well…although she used to be in her own little world back then.”

“Did something happen with her?” I was desperately trying to not sound desperate.

“Her husband signed divorce papers.”


This time I was the one almost jumping out of the sofa. “Did she tell you why?” I can swear that that phrase came out more like a whisper than anything else.

Half of me was anxious to hear the reason while the other half was wishing for the whole thing to just go away silently…like it had never ever happened.

“She didn’t tell me why…but I think I can guess why,” my overly confident and unperturbed warden said.

“And what could that be?” I said, feigning disinterest at the same time.

“She cheated on him,”

I think something had cracked inside my head.

Definitely, something had cracked.

Dear bladder, please calm down. If you can hold yourself right at this moment, I promise to listen attentively to your every demand in the future.

“I met her just a few days ago,” Rachael went on. “I had bumped into her by accident while I was getting some groceries at Manda Hill. She was just from having her hair done. We decided to stop by Steers and catch up a little bit. I was so excited to bump into her like that and was busy telling her about the wedding when I noticed she didn’t seem as enthusiastic as I would have liked her to be. I asked her what was going on…at first she kept saying nothing really but when I probed her further, she finally divulged everything to me!”

Oh dear…here we go….

Tata Lesa…Lord Jesus, please take the wheel from this point on and steer it in any other direction away from the direction that will burn me. I promise to increase my tithes and do more volunteer work. I promise.

“Back at Uni,” the warden continued, “Patricia was known for her adventures with men…older men to be more specific. She used to be a hard core playa, stringing along a bunch of rich men both married and single…she didn’t care.”

The more I listened to Rachael, the deeper my heart sunk.

Without knowing it, she was throwing information at me that I would have rather not know. Within such a short space of time, everything I had ever felt, thought, or imagined had come crumbling before my very eyes…or ears in this case.

A part of me wanted to ask Rachael to stop talking…to tell her I had heard enough…but I had no grounds to utter such words when she so desperately and excitedly wanted to share some gossip about an old friend to her man.

On that day, I could have paid the grim reaper thousands of dollars to have his way with me if it meant putting a stop to the oncoming revelations.

Still, there was a part of me that wanted to know…needed to know.

What exactly or who exactly had I fallen in-love with for all those years?

The protagonist in Rachael’s story didn’t sound like anyone I knew. That was not the mysterious yet alluring girl or woman I had pined for ever since my body had awakened to the secrets of manhood.

The woman I knew…my very first love…she had the most beautiful yet innocent smile that could send any mortal man on a journey to unlimited ecstasy. She had a way of looking at someone and making them feel as if they were the only thing that mattered at that moment in the whole world.

She had looked at me like that only a few days ago.

I had believed her.

The revelations that Rachael was heaping unto me made me weak at my knees and broke my heart into pieces over and over again.

The irony of it all struck me to the very core; it just had to be Rachael.

Why couldn’t any other person have enlightened me to such gruesome truths? Why did it have to be my fiancé?

When exactly did I piss off my ancestors for them to hail down on me in vengeance like this?

Is it because I knocked up my girlfriend first before marrying her?

I always knew my weaknesses would one day land me in shit.

Well, congratulations, you have finally succeeded.
You have screwed me up so hard I can barely hear my own thoughts from all this confusion.

If this is some part of an elaborate scheme to engrave on my heart the fact that I needed to leave my past behind and start a brand new beginning as this messenger’s husband, then dear ancestors, point taken. I thought as I braced myself for the onslaught.

“…she would make them buy her whatever she needed,” Rachael continued tormenting me. “We were all shocked when she announced in her fourth year that she was getting married. It turned out that one of her lovers had really fallen in-love with her and couldn’t wait till she graduated to make her his wife. He is a very rich man and owns a number of businesses around the country. I met him only once, a huge looking fella like that. We called him Mr Banks…because you know…he’s loaded.”

I think I met him too, I said in my head.

“What we didn’t know at that time and only got to find out later was that Patricia was already married to someone else!” Rachael reported excitedly.

She was basically taking a selfie in front of a burning house.

Rachael had no idea the hell she had lit in me which was threatening to drive away all my sanity.

“Didn’t Mr Banks know that she was already married?” I asked.

“He obviously knew,” Rachael answered. “He is a well-connected man and he looks like the type that would send private investigators on your tail. We all suspected that he knew all about Patricia’s misadventures…that was probably why he insisted on marrying her that fast. Patricia’s ex-husband wasn’t really that well to do and rumours where that he accepted money from the giant to quietly divorce Patricia. But I don’t know how true that is. It could be a lie…people love a good story.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. I just didn’t want to believe that any of it could be true. Unfortunately, the vessel in which the message came made it even harder for me to simply brush everything away.

“We all hoped that her second marriage would work out since the guy had everything she wanted in a man; money, money, and more money.”

“But what happened?” I asked, nonchalantly rubbing my eyes like a fatigued man when in actual sense I was trying to wipe away whatever feelings in me where threatening to reveal themselves through the windows of my soul.

“According to what Patricia told me a few days ago, she isn’t really in-love with Mr Banks,” Rachael reported. “She was in-love with the financial security he provided which she’s never had since she comes from a very poor family. Unfortunately…or fortunately, she met someone six months ago whom she believes she’s in-love with. As expected, he is jobless and poor thus making it almost impossible for her to leave her millionaire husband for him. So she settled for having an affair with him. The two of them had a rendezvous here in Lusaka but her husband got wind of it and followed her. He found them dirty dancing and kissing on some dance floor at one of the night clubs and he went ballistic! He almost hit her and he’s never hit her before. The next day he left her divorce papers and left. I had really hoped she could come to the wedding but she is on her way back to Kitwe now to see if she can make her husband change his mind…that poor man.”

That poor man indeed.

Would that have been me instead of him?

That thought was the first thing that came to my mind the moment Rachael had finished telling the story.

All along I had been so engrossed in imagining myself as Patricia’s man that I never bothered to get to know her a little better. Everything I knew about her was either a figment of my own imagination or something I had just witnessed from afar and put into a context that I found pleasing.

I had seen Patricia change boyfriends more times than Rachael changes her wardrobe but I had never bothered to ask why. I simply concluded that they were never good enough for her and only I could satisfy her.

Back then, that kind of reasoning is what I needed to gain confidence before I could finally get the courage to tell her how I felt.

This was not how I wanted my first love to end.

Not like this.

“You’ve been too quite my love,” Rachael jolted me from my reverie. “You don’t look so good, are you feeling okay?” she had placed her hand on my forehead to feel my temperature and she started shaking her head. “You are burning Chola,” she sufficed. “Should we see a Doctor? You really don’t look so well.”

I got up and moved to stand by the window for some fresh air. “I guess I have just been too stressed lately working and running around trying to get things ready for our big day.”

Rachael had joined me by the window, closely examining my face with just her eyes. “Maybe we should pass through the clinic baby.” She insisted.

“Just get me a glass of cold water love…and I will go out for some fresh air just to cool off.”

“Need me to come along?” Rachael offered.

“No need babe,” I said. “I just need to clear my head for a little bit. I will be back in no time.”

I was gone for more than five hours, crying and getting drunk at Mubita’s bachelor pad like an absolute fool.

“Calm your ovaries down man,” was Mubita’s way of soothing me.

He unceremoniously threw a roll of tissue at me.

He did not need to tell me that I looked pathetic sitting on the floor and bawling my eyes out like a teenage diva that had just lost her favourite lipstick.

I felt foolish and in that moment, you could have looked up the noun in the dictionary and seen a picture of me crouched on the floor surrounded by used up tissues right next to the word.

“So why exactly are you acting like this?” Mubita asked the billion dollar question.

“My lost youth,” I flashed my nose into the tissue causing Mubita to flinch in reaction, a disgusting look glowing on his face. “I am mourning all those bloody years I spent loving a woman a barely even knew.”

“At the rate you are going, even your child in Rachael’s womb will start crying because he can’t believe he will be under your responsibility once he comes into this world. Stop embarrassing me before my godchild man,” Mubita roasted me.

Mubita is the king of unsubtlety.

He is the type to walk right over to a woman and with a straight face tell her that she had messed up her skirt from her period without so much as blushing from sheer embarrassment. “I would recommend getting an app to keep up with your flow,” he would shamelessly add whilst taking his phone out to show the poor woman what the app looked like. “I have this so I can keep up with my girlfriend…I need to know which days she’s likely to be grumpy so I can stay out of her way.”

I guess his personality was the reason I had chosen to go to his place instead of Nchimunya’s who had more maturity than both of us put together. Dating a woman older than him had forced Nchimunya to grow up faster than all of us.

I needed Mubita to grill into me how foolish I was to be feeling like that. I knew everything, but I just couldn’t stop myself from feeling like that. Nchimunya would have tried to make my feelings justifiable in his effort to comfort me but not Mubita.

If this guy was to trace his ancestry, he would discover that he was some fourth or sixth cousin to Lucifer himself.

“I was happy and content with the picture I had of her so why did I have to find out the truth now? Is this God’s way of punishing me for the sin I almost committed a few days ago?”

“Of course,” Mubita vomited the words with such impunity I had to fight the urge to mentally kill him. “Only a dickhead would cheat on a woman like Rachael,” he continued unleashing his purge unto me. “If my girlfriend was even half as good as Rachael, I would have married her already.”

“You think I don’t know that already?” I asked.

Mubita glared at me, “are you saying that you also think my girlfriend is not good enough?” He was daring me to agree. Even in my foolish disposition, I could smell the trap.
How Mubita-like of him.

“I think her boobs are bigger than Rachael’s,” I said.

A proud grin immediately appeared on his face. “So you noticed.”

“Even Jesus would notice if she walked to him for spiritual healing. Those things are a force to be reckoned with.”

“I guess my work here is done,” Mubita said, catching me off-guard.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“If an image of my girl’s boobs can pop through your head at a moment when you thought your world was crushing to an end, then obviously there are more pressing issues in this world to worry about…such as your wedding in the next couple of days.”

I had been right to stop by Mubita’s place. The guy had the brutality of Shaka but he always had a solution to everything…well, almost everything.

I was more than ready to face the facts.


* * *

If I didn’t know it before, I know it now.

If I had any doubts before, I am now convinced beyond any reasonable doubt that the woman walking down the aisle towards me is the love of my life.

Forget the raging hormones that threaten to turn me into a dark Lord whenever they attack…but this woman is carrying in her my very first child…the fruit of my…okay, let me not think about that right now.

And just why are these pants so dame tight anyway? I ordered a slim fit suit for my big day, not a skin tight.

Just look at Rachael glowing like that.

She is the most beautiful when she’s smiling. That smile is probably the reason I lost control of my ammunition and fired…calm down…calm down Chola.

Just think about the future from now on.

I don’t care about the sex of the child…but dear Lord let it be a boy, ah.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness….”

From this point on, I promise to be more than just Chola to you my wife.

I hereby leave my past and all my indiscretions behind….

My name is Chola.

I am Rachael’s husband.

I am the father of her unborn child.

And as long as my wife is not moody from pregnancy or facing the woes of biology and nature, I intend to have an absolutely happy marriage life!



Coming Next Week:

Snippet from Echoes of the Heart


Everything around her had come to a standstill and only Veronica’s high pitched voice echoed though the four walls of the now empty restaurant.

“If your mission was to come here and insult me, you could have at least gotten your wardrobe choice right.” The woman’s bloody lips taking up half of her face and the long fake lashes threatening to drown the rest of it made it even harder for Sibusiswe to look at her.

Was that the kind of beauty they kept talking about these days?

“All those pearls and fancy clothes make you look pathetic and ridiculous.” Veronica continued.

Sibusiswe could only shake her heard as she took in the insults. There was something about Veronica’s face that made her look as if she had been born naturally drunk and upset.

“I find it hard to get offended when classy looking people attack me,” the ghetto born diva continued her attack on Sibusiswe.

“I didn’t ask to meet you so I could attack you,” Sibusiswe said, still maintaining her poise – much to Veronica’s chagrin.

“There you go again,” Veronica was close to snapping now, her long reptile-like nails digging into the beautiful expensive furniture of the high class restaurant. She hated everything about the restaurant her nemesis had picked just to reel her in. “That tone of voice,” her venom-like tongue hissed, “how the hell am I supposed to feel offended when you sound so melodic and corny?”

Sibusiswe couldn’t help laughing. “You seem to be under the impression that I came here for an attack,” she said. “I don’t think I have ever given you any reason to feel like that. If anything, I have been more than civil during all our interactions. You on the other hand have done nothing but antagonize me every step of the way. If anyone was looking at us, they would think I was the other woman.”

Veronica rolled her big round eyes, forcing Sibusiswe to move her drink away lest one of her gigantic eye lashes decided to take a dive in protest. It can’t be easy for the pair to try to make a woman like Veronica look beautiful.

Those poor lashes… she silently sympathized.

Perhaps she would have felt a little less offended if her husband had left her for a better woman. She didn’t even have to be good looking. She just had to be easy on the eye and clean. Just how many layers of make-up did the eye have to beat to get to the woman’s actual skin? The make-up was literally wearing her, she wasn’t wearing it.

“I can hear you thinking awful things about me,” Veronica put her arms across her chest defensively. “It must hurt your pride knowing your husband left you for a woman like me, er?”

Sibusiswe scoffed. “As a matter of fact it does, I won’t lie.”

Veronica looked confused, not sure whether to get offended or not. Why did her already tiny IQ shrink every time she was faced with this woman?

“Having said that,” Sibusiswe continued, “I don’t regret the divorce. I only feel bad for….”

Veronica raised her hand to shut her nemesis up. “I am really not a fan of yours Sibu and I would pay any amount of money just to get you to shut up so I can leave. The only reason I agreed to this meeting is because you and I need to come to a conclusion about Jacob. I am not comfortable with this arrangement of my husband constantly having to meet you whenever he is picking up or dropping off Jacob.”

“When are you going to get over your insecurities Veronica?” Sibu asked. “Martin and I have been divorced for over four years now. Apart from Jacob, I have no other business whatsoever with him. Unlike some women, I don’t find married men attractive. They reek of another woman whenever I am talking to them.”

“You might think that but Martin is a very kind man,” Veronica was saying. “He might still have lingering feelings…you are the mother of his child after all.”

“You’ve been with Jacob’s father for eight years now, four of which were during the time he was still married to me…and you are telling me you still don’t know him that well?” Sibu asked.

Veronica shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “What do you mean?” She flapped her lashes at her rival.

“Martin is not a kind man. You can call him anything else…but kind isn’t one of them.” Sibisiswe replied. “Anyway, I didn’t ask to have this meeting with you so we could talk about your husband. I want us to talk about something you might actually find pleasing.”

“And what is that?”

“From now onwards, I would like it if you were the one responsible for Jacobs welfare…and by that I mean bringing him back to my place after his visits to you. I do not wish to have any more contact with Martin.”

Veronica took a moment to mull over what she had just heard. Again, she wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad about such a development. Isn’t that what she had always hoped for? She had been on Martin’s neck the past years trying to get him to let her take charge of that situation but he never relented.

What was really going on here? Something didn’t seem right.

If you even knew half of it, you would be using your fake lashes to hang yourself woman, Sibusiswe thought as she watched Veronica battle her demons.

“Is this what they call in the movies psychology reverse?” Veronica asked.

Sibusiswe had to hold her hand to her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud. “It’s actually….forget it,” she gave up teaching the vixen. It wasn’t her job anyway. “I am being sincere with you Veronica,” Sibu said.

“Martin might still have a soft spot for you but he would never leave me for you. i am not the kind of woman to get her husband stolen by another woman. I always protect what’s mine.”

Sibusiswe scoffed once again. “You know what’s funny,” she said in a very calm yet menacing tone. “That Martin will not be coming back to me by my own doing. With your own tongue, you will beg him to get back with me.”

“Keep on dreaming,” Veronica hissed. “Over my dead body, you get it? Over my dead body.” She got up to leave.

“If you say so,” Sibusiswe replied nonchalantly, looking out the window towards the blue Jaguar still parked in the same spot.

Was this war ever going to end?

Or should she put an end to it right there and then?

This would not be the first time she was getting blood on her hands. Only this time, she would make it worth her while.
Look out for Part One of Echoes of the Heart coming Next Week!


Chola’s Love Storm: A Tale of Unforgotten Love – Chapter Two

Chapter Two

A storm is brewing in Chola’s direction. Can he seek shelter in the arms of the woman he loves or will he succumb to his desires and drown in a pool of unwarrantable pleasure?  


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


“Bev told me about the childhood friend you met over the weekend,” her majesty said, trying to play it cool as she carefully set her trap for me.

Dame that Beverly….

There should be a law against fiancé’s having such friends. If she knew the number of times I had to rush into confession at church just to cleanse myself of all the evil thoughts I plotted against her in my head every time she snitched on me to Rachael, she would have steered off my lane, forever.

Rachael was busy pretending to be concentrating hard on the clothes she was ironing for me but I could see her eyeballs from under getting thicker and thicker from surreptitiously peeking at me, searching my face for a reaction.

Eeeey…I was on the frying pan, again.

Despite the windows in my living room being closed, I could feel and hear the wind blow over my face and shwiiiiiii, it went passed my ears.

Noticing my hesitation, Rachael had completely given up on playing cool. I could see smoke coming from her ears.

It also didn’t help that my face was literally confessing my sins to her. Instead of giving me a handsome face, sometimes I wished God had given me a poker face because I suck at lying and Rachael knows it. The women could smell my lies even before I opened my mouth.

She had stopped whatever she was doing and was glaring at me so hard that I could feel my white blood cells running for cover.

“What did you do?” she asked, piercingly glaring at me.

I silently thanked the heavens for giving me the insight to pee just a few minutes before the trial had started. “I was going to tell you about it… it’s just that…”

I was really trying to go for the nonchalant and suave kind of delivery but it seemed my tongue had decided to take a chill on this day.

“It’s just that what?” Rachael cut me off, her arms crossed over her chest with her whole body exuding a Gangnam style kind of attitude.

“Yes I did meet Patricia,” I started my testimony, this time mentally grabbing hold of my balls and stealthily reminding them of who was in charge.

“At first I didn’t think it was all that important to tell you about it,” I mumbled, “….but since she had asked that we invite her to the wedding, I thought I should talk to you about it first…. Unfortunately, Beverly beat me to it.”

“I don’t think that is the reason why you are acting like that,” Rachael countered. “Obviously something happened that you are not telling me about, spill it,” she said in a very menacing tone.

At that point, I would have done anything she wanted me to do. She would have asked me to stop breathing and I would have straight away held my hand to my nose and mouth.

Rachael would have asked me to jump and croak Coming to America style and I would have done so because…because of the guilt that had been weighing down on me.

I had two options; to either tell her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, or to take the kufwa na No (die saying No) road. Either way, I was doomed.

“Yes, I met Patricia again after that meeting at Mercury Couriers.” I could literally feel a certain part of my body shrink.

“Um,” was all that Rachael managed for a response.

I understood that response clearly; she was not going to speak another word until I finished hanging myself.

I had already started; there was only one direction this ship was going.


*                             *                             *


It was 2 in the morning….

There I was, desperately trying to win the war against gravity, dragging my feet from the club to the car park. The God that normally gave me the power to drive like a sober man even when I was higher than the Kilimanjaro must have taken a chill pill on that particular day because he allowed it that I be a witness to something I would have rather not been a part of….

A whole week had gone by and I had successfully managed to not get in touch with Patricia.

Sigh of relief….

I had tossed her card some place I wouldn’t dare go back to look for it in case I lost my marbles in future. I had gone to and back from hell fighting the urge to not search for her on social media and I had kept myself so busy working and running errands for the wedding which was only a week away now.

I had no business trying to covet another man’s wife like I didn’t have a good woman by my side already. I should have known better from the get-go. Besides, it’s not like there was ever a possibility of Patricia and I dating. She obviously still thought of me as a boy.

While a part of me…my ego mostly, wanted to prove her otherwise, I price tag that came with letting my ego get the better of me was too grand for me to afford.

I am telling you, I did everything humanly possible to stay away from temptation.

I did.

As fate would have it, I was just about to get into my car when boom! I heard something hit the ground.

I turned in that direction. Just a few feet from where I was standing was a man and a woman, they were talking…no, arguing to be precise although I could not make out what the argument was about.

But what I could make out clearly was the well-lit car park and the man’s face which was turned in my direction. He was a huge looking fella with the kind of face only his mother would love. He was saying something to the woman which obviously wasn’t well received by her ears because she was slowly backing away from him while he barked at her.

I could not see the woman’s face since she was facing the other direction but I could see half of her back from over the car she was now leaning against. I could tell she was tall…except the giant towering over her made her look like a dwarf.

I kept telling myself to just look away, get into my car and drive off. It was none of my business.

Next thing I heard was another bang, the giant had landed his fist into the car the woman was leaning against, right next to her head.

“Don’t you even dare!” The giant’s masculine voice drawled and echoed through the car park. His face was just inches away from her. She was visibly shaken from the imposing threat before her.

One of my legs was already in the car; technically I was more than ready to bounce. But I stayed like that for a moment, contemplating about interfering or looking away. I had gotten into the car and was just about to start the engine when my moral faculties got the better of me.

Bana Chola had taught me better than that.

There was no way I was just going to ignore what I had just witnessed. What if that man killed the poor woman? What would I have done if that was Rachael, my mother, or my baby sister?

“Patricia!” I screamed when I realised who the woman I had just yanked from under the giant was.

It was Patricia.

It. Just. Had. To. Be. Patricia.

Someone somewhere was really having a good time messing around with me. Just why did it have to be Patricia of all women in the world?

She was just as shocked as I was. “Chola….” She called out my name. I sufficed from her big teary eyes that she had just been crying.

“You better let go of my wife’s hand before something bad happens to you mate,”

If I had thought before that the man’s gigantic frame was menacing, he had managed to awaken me to another fact; his voice had the power to make my blood flow in the opposite direction.

I dropped Patricia’s hand like a lamp of hot nshima.

“You know this guy?” The giant asked his wife.

Patricia nodded. “He’s a childhood friend of mine.”

“I see,” her husband hissed, shaking his head as if he had just proved an old theory correct. “Even better,” he added.

Patricia was shaking her head profusely. “Can we go home and….”

“How about I just leave you two to continue whatever you were doing,” I was more than ready to jolt out. That man looked like he would whoop my ass into a memory.

“I thought it was some random person trying to take advantage of a helpless woman…and so I…I’m gonna go now. Take care of yourself Patricia.”

I quickly turned to leave but his deep voice brought me to a halt. “If she is your friend, I suggest you take her with you before I do something to her I might regret.” And with that, the man got into the car his fist had earlier bruised and drove off, completely ignoring the distraught Patricia chasing after him.

For a while I just stood back and watched the drama unfold before me. How the hell did I end up in such a mess?


Next thing I remember is looking up and seeing Patricia sprawled on the ground in her fancy little dress and heels looking like the perfect portrait of a damsel in distress.

Being this woman’s hero meant that I was setting myself up to be a villain in another woman’s world…the woman I was scheduled to marry in just a few days.

But I couldn’t get myself to turn a blind eye.

I walked up to her and helped her to her feet. She was sobbing uncontrollably by now. After so many years of trying to get this woman’s attention, years of staying up late at night thinking and thinking about her, and years of constantly nursing my bruised ego and pride every time I had an encounter with her…I had finally become the shoulder for her to cry on, literally.

And suddenly, I had completely sobered up.

I spoke a few soothing words to her, trying to calm her down…still in that position if I must add.

How many times in my head had I pictured myself playing hero to her? The gods must be crazy. Out of nowhere, and without even trying, she had landed right into my arms.

It’s 2 in the morning, there is a very vulnerable yet attractive woman in my arms and there’s an empty bed somewhere calling out to me…. Do you see where I am going with this?

Anyway, Patricia finally sobered up and I slowly released her from my arms. I couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief. I was treading on dangerous territory and the bells were getting louder and louder in my head.

“Can I drop you off somewhere?” I asked.

She shook her head, one hand wiping away the tears that had engulfed her face. “I only know one person here and that’s where my husband is going.”

Oh dear.

“My purse and everything else is in the car so I can’t even go to a lodge,” Patricia was saying. “I know I am being shameless…but can you lend me some money…I promise to give it back tomorrow.” She was clearly someone not used to being at such a disadvantage.

I didn’t have any more cash on me. I had danced on it back in the club and Rachael had the rest of my cards. The one time I had not forgotten to tell her where I was going, she had relieved me of my ATM cards because she never liked how my generosity levels always seemed to spike whenever I was in front of a bar. Thus, she had given me some cash and let me off the hook for the night.

“I don’t like carrying so much money with me when I go out with the boys,” I lied to Patricia, touching my pockets here and there as if by some miracle some cash might pop out.

“Oh,” there was no missing the sunken look on her face. It was one of defeat. “How about your….”

I knew what she was going to suggest but her pride must have gotten the better of her because she let the sentence hang just like that.


Two of the friends I had been hanging with at the club were married and had already left the club just before midnight. The other two still inside though not married had girlfriends. Of those two, Nchimunya was the most likely to have some money to spare since Mubita was broke most of the time, even on the day after payday.

And so I called Nchimunya and asked him to meet me in the car park.

Nchimunya had this look on his face when he saw that I had a woman by my side…he was grinning from ear to ear like a fool.

“This is Patricia,” I went straight into the introductions.

Nchimunya threw me a knowing look. “The Patricia, Patricia?” he asked excitedly, extending his hand to her. “My name is Nchimunya, I’m one of his very close buddies. I’ve heard a lot about you….”

Was he really going to go there? I wanted to smack him in the head. “Nchimunya is a good friend of mine and for a man, he talks a lot.” I jumped in to save my pride.

Fortunately, my buddy got the cue and changed course. “He told me you guys grew up together. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

As the two shook hands, Patricia had this blank look on her face. She was probably thinking about what had happened with her husband instead of listening to the rumblings of some drunken guy.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Patricia said, giving my buddy a fleeting smile.

“Instead of a lodge, she can spend the night at my place,” Nchimunya offered after I brought him up to speed with the situation at hand.

“I can spend the night at Mubita’s,” he was saying, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if it’s just for one night. I will call Thembi, but you should also call her…just in case, you know.”

“Sure,” I replied.

Thembi was Nchimunya’s girlfriend of seven years. I should probably mention that my friend had a vintage taste in women. He had been seeing a divorcee who was fifteen years older than him, and because of her past, she was very sceptical about jumping into the marriage wagon a second time.  Despite Nchimunya’s campaigns in the past to get them to at least live together, Thembi would not budge.

“Don’t worry too much,” Nchimunya had turned to Patricia. “My girlfriend is very understanding. As long as I talk to her about it, she won’t mind at all.”

After sorting out the logistics, I dropped Patricia off at Nchimunya’s place in Chelstone since it was right along the way to my place.

My mission was to just drop her off, make sure she was safely inside the house and drive off. Unfortunately, the reality played itself out differently.

I was standing outside the door, saying goodbye to Patricia – from a distance… waiting for her to close the door behind her when she paused.

She had this look in her eyes, like she was about to cry. I felt a deep pang in my heart, it was heavy and piercing.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked.

I probably shouldn’t have asked. 

“Um,” she was nodding yes but her eyes where saying something else.

“Patricia….” I started to say.

She ran back to where I was and threw her arms around me, pulling me in so tightly I could barely breathe.

“Patricia…” I said, sticking my head up and trying desperately to unglue her from my body. “What’s going on?” I asked.

She was now crying. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything Chola.”

She had loosened her hold on me and I finally managed to put some distance between us, tilting her upper body away from me with my hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, my voice coming out a little too throaty for my liking.

I did not like the look in Patricia’s eyes. It was the kind that took up that little breathing space in men’s pants and made it hard for them to walk or think straight.

Sensing the danger, I released my hands from her shoulders, quickly stepping back to put some reasonable distance between us.

However, Patricia wasn’t going to let me off that easy. Before I could even blink, she had her arms around my neck and her tongue in my mouth.

My first instinct was flight, and so I tried to pull her off of me, again.

I succeeded.


Patricia stood back and looked up at me. Like a wet stray puppy, her eyes begging me to rescue her.

My mind was begging me to look away. “I’m very sorry Tricia,” I said, quickly turning around to go back to my car.

“Please, don’t leave me like this.” Her voice hit me from behind.

Those six little words echoed through my brain until I could not hear anything else.

I was petrified not only by her careless utterances but also by my own thoughts.

“Please….” I heard her say again.

How many times had I prayed to hear those words from her? I felt like I could die that very second and enjoy a very peaceful afterlife.

Her words had enveloped me into some kind of spell. At that moment, I only had one thing on my mind…only Patricia and no one and nothing else.

When I turned around, I found her standing right behind me. I thought back to all those years I had craved and pined for her…all those years I had wanted to physically and emotionally make her mine.

Even if it be just for a night, she wanted me and that’s all that mattered.

Patricia finally needed me.

Her lips were screaming at me, inviting me to draw closer and taste them…and taste them I did.

Like a man starved of love for years, I went at her for my pleasure. Every breath she took in my arms was like a force igniting the frustrations I felt all those years she thought of me as nothing but a boy.

I wanted her to learn.

I wanted her to remember me.

I wanted her to beg for more.


I was holding her so tight in my arms, afraid she might slip away like she did in the past. I could feel myself losing control, panting like a dog on heat. I ran one hand through her long hair while the other caressed her cheek. When I felt her thrust her body against mine, I knew she was exactly where I wanted her to be.

I teased her lips for a little longer. I could hear her moan from both frustration and pleasure. Unable to stand the pressure any more, she moved her hands from cupping the back of my neck and held me by my head, pulling me in and kissing me like her life depended on it.

Patricia was so wrapped up in having her way with my lips that it took a moment for her to realise what was going on.

I was not kissing her back.

I had dropped my arms to my sides and just let them hang there limply, silently commanding them to not dare reach out and touch anything.

Patricia paused, searching my face for an explanation.

She still had her arms around my neck but then I placed my hands on them and slowly dropped them to her sides.

“Why did you stop?” She asked in a painfully calm voice.

“Because if I didn’t, we were both going to regret it,” I said, wiping my lips with the back of my hand just in case she had left her mark on me.

“The why did you let me kiss you when you obviously wanted me to stop?” she quizzed me.

I took a moment to think before responding because she would have definitely taken offence if I had laid it out to her thick and straight. “Because I wanted to test myself,” I finally said.

Patricia looked even more puzzled.

“All these years I thought I was in-love with you,” I started my monologue. “And maybe to some extent I really was in-love with you, but not once…not once did you act like you even considered me, until today. This past week, I have done nothing but kill myself over thinking about you and wondering, what if? Tonight I was willing to throw away everything I have just to have you…but then I felt your body move against mine and for some reason that brought me back to my senses. Tonight I committed a crime against you and a very wonderful woman out there….

“I know I’m going to sound like a jerk… but, I am glad this happened. I finally know the difference between what I want and what I need. Yes I want you, but that’s it. Fortunately, there’s a woman I want as well as need in my life. I am sorry I was such a jerk to you tonight. You were not in your right mind but I had the frame of mind to know better. I don’t know what problems you and your husband are going through but I hope you manage to work them out soon. And I am sorry that I can’t invite you to the wedding…for obvious reasons.”

Patricia was smiling wryly at me, obviously embarrassed by the turn of events. “I am also at fought,” she said apologetically. “I shouldn’t have come at you like that.”

“How about we just forget this ever happened?” I suggested.

“I think that’s better,” she agreed.


*                             *                             *


“So you just dropped her off and nothing happened?” Rachael pounded me for answers, not completely convinced by the edited version of the truth I had chosen to present to her.

Of course I never told her about the kiss! What do you take me for, a fool?

Rachael is not the kind of woman you can tell that it took kissing another woman for you realise how much you loved her. She would have killed me and dumped my ass without even batting an eye! She is brutal like that when it comes to betrayal.

“Yes, that’s it,” I insisted. Knowing what was really at stake, even I believed my own lies.

She kept staring at me for a few more seconds, searching my face for clues of deception. I was busy smiling at her reassuringly. I don’t think I would have managed a straight innocent face at that point. She would have seen right through that one.

“Well, whatever happened at least I know you did not sleep with her…that much I can tell.” She was delivering her verdict. “But if anything else happened, then you have to show me just how sorry you are that you let it happen and make sure it never happens again, ever.” She declared.

“I am sorry for everything Rachael…for not telling you…for….”

“I know,” she said, not letting me finish. It was as if she knew exactly what had happened and deliberately avoided hearing it.

I felt chills run down my spine as I watched her disappear into the bedroom.

I was stuck between doing a dance and rushing to church for confession.

Rachael had been gone for about three minutes, sorting out my clothes in the bedroom like she always did after ironing them when her cell phone rang.

“Your phone honey!” I called out to her.

I had just picked it up to take it to her when the number on the screen caught my eye. I knew that number. I had seen that number somewhere before….

“Who is it baby?” Rachael appeared from the bedroom holding in one hand a pair of the boxers she had been threatening to burn for the past one year and in another a pair of scissors.

I could only mumble a few inaudible things in response as I looked back and forth from the phone screen to the woman who might never be my wife after all.

In retrospect, that image of Rachael in front of me holding whatever she was holding in her hands was somewhat a foretelling of the precarious position I would find myself in amidst the events that unfolded thenceforth.

How did Patricia get Rachael’s number?

And most importantly, what was she doing calling my fiancé?


My name is Chola…and there’s a storm is brewing in my direction.


Look out for Chapter Three to be published soon!!



Chola’s Love Storm: A Tale of Unforgotten Love – Chapter One

Chapter One

What is a man to do when an opportunity to get the woman he’s loved and desired  for years presents itself just two weeks before his wedding?



This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


Well, that situation happened to me.

The drama started during the early morning hours on a Saturday. I had only slept for just a couple of hours after a night out partying with the boys and just when I was getting into the chorus of my sleep, my phone rang. It was the fiancé.

Her name is Rachael. She is literally the epitome of a woman’s beauty; intelligent, witty, curved in all the right places, and a smile to die for. I love Rachael…but sometimes she does and says things that threaten to turn me into Voldemort in a blink of an eye.

You see, Rachael and I were planning what most people would call a short-gun wedding; I must have been too drunk that day I messed up my retreating skills and fired live ammunition straight on. Fortunately, the marriage proposal was not the sentence I received for how events turned out because I had already asked Rachael’s hand in marriage eight months earlier. In the end, we had to move the wedding date to a much earlier date so the pregnancy wouldn’t show by the time she walked down the aisle.

So there I was enjoying my sleep when Rachael’s phone call came. Naturally, I frowned and mumbled a few expletives before answering. During the days leading up to that day, I had developed a sudden phobia; whenever my phone rang and it was a call from Rachael, I would get all sweaty and nervous just thinking about what possible crime or sentence she was going to throw at me. You see, I was faced with two of the worst circumstances any man can ever find himself in; a pregnant woman and a soon to be bride…all packaged in the same container.

“I can’t get any sleep Chola, I want those pumpkins I left in your fridge on Tuesday,” my commander-in-chief roared.

I was flabbergasted! ifipushi, at 04 o’clock imwe bantu sure? Is this woman the love of my life or my mortal enemy? Ey.

“Babe, it’s 4 in the morning,” I protested, looking at the wristwatch which I had neglected to remove before throwing myself into bed. “Can’t I bring them to you when I wake up in the morning?” and I was tempted to add, it’s not like you are going to die if you don’t have them now, but of course I kept my mouth shut because the dead one would obviously be me if I dared utter those words.

And of course I couldn’t tell her that I hadn’t gotten enough sleep because I had forgotten to inform her about my night out with the boys…yes, I said forgotten.

I could picture the heavenly skies turning a shade darker when her response came, “Kanshi I will just come and get them myself.” I could hear her making some movements. “Who cares if something happens to me or my baby while I drive in the dark…what can I do?”

I mouthed a few more expletives whilst kicking my legs in frustration before jumping out of bed. I should have really kept my pull-out game in check that night, damwit. I felt like punching my balls for letting me down but let’s face it, that’s like shooting yourself in the leg and expecting your opponent to feel the pain.

“I will bring them,” I conceded, “just get back in bed and wait for me.”

“You are the best baby! You are my hero! You….” I couldn’t hear the rest of what she was shrieking because I was busy trying to nurse my bruised ego.

I always prided myself on being a macho man but whenever it came to my woman, I had learnt the hard way that if I wanted to be happy, it was best to ensure that the madam was happy first otherwise my independent pursuit of happiness would be futile.

So there I was at Rachael’s place in Kabwata Estates…did I mention that my place was in Avondale? Yeah, that’s the distance I had to drive to deliver her pumpkins.

I was watching her attack the pumpkins like a Lioness that had been starved for a century. I silently wondered what had happened to that classy bank manager I had been dating for the past three years. I could see symptoms of her on this woman’s face and body…but nah, she was slowly disappearing into the hormones that were threatening to engulf her whole body in a few months.

But I was still crazy about her like a teenager watching his first dose of porn….every moment spent with her was endearing. She was my queen.

Anyway, I was just glad she was eating the food I laboured to bring all the way instead of her just picking it here and then saying she’s no longer craving it. That always made me want to punch something.

“Mum asked me to go and help her out at the boutique today since Linda is out of town,” she was saying. Linda was my seventeen year old kid sister and the mum she was talking about was my mother. She and my family seemed to have hit it off the moment I introduced them. For starters, I knew it was because she was an educated and independent woman who wasn’t after me for my money or something like that. Secondly, despite her credentials, she was a very charming and respectful daughter and sister in-law. It was almost impossible for anyone that met Rachael not to fall in-love with her.

“I figured I could help her out since I am off from work this weekend.” Rachael continued, “But I have to collect my stuff for the bridesmaids from Beverly at Mercury. I already spoke to her; she said its fine for you to pick them up in my stead. Do you think you can get them for me before they close? I think they work half day weekends.”

“Sure,” I replied. “I will head there around 10. Anything else you need me to do for you?” This was my defensive mechanism at play. In order to not feel used or cheated or even frustrated, I discovered that it was better to accept my circumstances instead of constantly complaining. It was not like Rachael enjoyed bossing me around and demanding useless things in the middle of the night. I was partly responsible…if not majorly responsible for this kind of plot development.

*                             *                             *

So there I was at Mercury carrying boxes from inside and taking them to my car with the help of Beverly when I woman drove passed us and went to park her tiny golf car next to my Range Rover.

Beverly and I were there standing with our boxes in hand waiting for her to get out of her vehicle so we can go about our business when it happened.

I should admit, I am a sucker for good looking women. If you are a beautiful woman or if you have a huge rack or behind, or great looking legs, I will definitely turn around to look at you…and I will look and look again until the image of you is imprinted in my head for future reference. But that don’t mean I want to bed every one of them…I just love appreciating nature. I have my boundaries.

Of course Rachael knew about my weakness (es) and I had been working on it (them) from the time I went steady with her. I am still a work in progress, a good man, but still a work in progress.

I recognized the woman the moment she came out of the car.

Her name was Patricia.

Despite the five years since I last saw her, time seemed to have worked on her side all along. She hadn’t aged a bit. She was still beautiful, except this time it was a mature way…there was just something about the way she carried herself that day.

As if struck by some unknown Star Wars kind of power, my eyes went straight to her hand; she had a ring on. So she was married. I am not sure how that conclusion made me feel or perhaps, I just wasn’t ready to confront it at that particular moment.

She had recognized me too.

“Chola!” She shouted my name and came charging at me. I had to put my piled boxes down to accept her hug while a visibly bemused Beverly watched on the side.

“Oh my God, look at you!” Patricia said, scanning me from head to toe. “You are a man now, aren’t you?”

I blushed. Gosh, did the woman even know what that meant?

I had become a man some good eighteen years ago when she first made an appearance in one of nature-induced steamy productions. Of course my hand was a far cry from the real thing. But who cares?

“Is this your wife?” Patricia had turned to my fiancé’s loyal friend Beverly…emphasis on the world loyal.

Beverly was quick to shake her head, “hell no, he is my friend’s fiancé. He just came to collect some stuff for the bridesmaid…the two are getting married in just two weeks.” She announced a little too excitedly, much to my chagrin… I don’t know why.

Bev was obviously playing the role a typical girlfriend’s friend, very protective…announcing the wedding as if she had stakes in the marriage. Dame woman, sealing my fate on the market like that.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said a smiling Patricia, awkwardly trying to find means to shake Beverly’s hands before giving up. “I’m Patricia, Chola’s friend from way back. We grew up together, him and I.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Beverly returned. “Sorry I can’t shake your hand,” she said, looking at the boxes

Patricia laughed softly, “I understand, don’t worry about it. I just came to collect something for a friend of mine. I hope it’s still open.”

“Yes, still open…but we’ll be closing a few minutes so if you could rush in and….”

“Oh, thanks,” Patricia said, her focus on the entrance of the building. “Let’s catch up another time,” she was speaking frantically. “I would love to meet the soon to be Mrs Mwansa.” Then she opened her bag, took out her business card and handed it to me. “I am still in town for a month so I expect to get a card! Call me, okay.”

“Of course,” I said, looking at her card; she was a legal advisor. She was still as impressive as ever.

“It was nice meeting you Beverly…you too Chola after such a long time. See you soon!” And with that, off she ran.

See you soon…she had said.

See you soon…. like an addictive pill, her voice kept ringing in my head.

Later that night as I lay awake in my bed, my mind kept replaying the fateful events of that day.

I tried everything possible to keep my mind busy; I had been on the phone with Rachael for close to two hours, I tried watching some soccer, I tried eating…I tried almost everything but the images kept creeping into my thoughts.

I took the business card which was lying on the bedside table and I think I starred at it for close to an hour. It was midnight already, I had a woman I was crazily in-love with, she was pregnant with my child, and our wedding was just a couple of weeks away…so what the hell was I doing thinking about another woman at that time of the night?

Patricia and I had never dated. She was two years older than me and growing up, she always thought of me as her young brother. The kind of attention she gave to me was that of one looking after a sibling but as a man, she never gave me her time of day.

I always hated that.

For many years I loved her from a distance despite growing up in the same neighbourhood. Her house was just two blocks away from mine.

She was my first love…the kind of love that hurts real bad it makes you stay up all night imagining all sorts of things…all sorts of possibilities. I wanted to make that woman mine for so many years, longer than all the years I’ve loved different women put together.

She was the one that got away…the one I couldn’t seem to shake off no matter how many years passed.

But there she was back in my life at the most crucial moment. What the hell was I supposed to think? Did she come as a test before my nuptials or was she a sign that I had to reconsider things?

There I was holding the business card in my hand with my eyes fixed on my phone. I only needed to look away or switch my phone off, throw the card away and force myself to sleep and the rest would have been history.

But my name is Chola…and I have my weaknesses too.


*                *          *

Look out for Chapter Two to be published soon!!