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December 15, 2018

Pregnancy scare

A few days later, it starts. I send text messages to the VIP and GG respectively. The content is straight to the point.


Perhaps I should have cushioned it a little? Oh well. Too late now. I just hope their phones were not lying around somewhere. Imagine one of their wives seeing a text message like this one? In capital letters, no less. Now that I’ve sent the text messages, there’s nothing to do but wait. 

There are loads to do to get my mind off things. And I definitely need a distraction. 

I’m back at work and the sniggers continue from members of staff that obviously saw the video (that was released on the internet) of the prude and I having relations in his car. Yes. That really happened. It wasn’t a dream. 

I ignore them. My boss has said nothing since his initial text message a few days ago.

For the next couple of hours, I throw myself into work. Ping. I have a text message. The VIP has bitten first.

“Who is this?”

What? Is that his approach? The nerve! He all of a sudden doesn’t have my number? Perhaps he doesn’t want to admit anything on text message. I reply.

“Can we meet and talk? I want to get rid of it.”

Those it would appear are the magic words. As long as I don’t want to keep the kid he now remembers who I am. He calls.

“Today at 5pm. My office,” he says and hangs up.

The afternoon drags on. Still nothing from GG. He must be scared out of his mind. I decide to send him the very same text message I sent to the VIP.

“Can we meet and talk? I want to get rid of it.”

Amazing. It has the exact same effect that the other one had on the VIP. A phone call comes less than 10 minutes later.

“Tonight?” he asks.

I agree. He chooses a secluded spot in Westlands at 8pm. That will give me enough time to finish with the VIP. I’m relieved. I can meet both of them today and get this over and done with. I call Mr N.

“I’m set for this evening. I’m meeting them both separately,” I say.

“Ok. Be cool. Expect some shouting. They might get angry,” he says.

“Would they attack me?” I ask, suddenly fearful.

“No. But make it clear to them that someone knows where you are,” he responds.

It’s 4.30pm when I leave the office to head to the ministry. There is loads of traffic and I don’t get to his office until 6pm. This is not good. I go through the usual motions of a trying to get into a government office; thankfully, I carried my ID card. By the time I’m cleared to enter his office, it’s quarter past 6.

“Is he still here?” I ask his secretary.

She nods and motions for me to take a seat. I wait. And I wait. And I wait. It’s now 20 past 7. I text GG and request to push our meeting to 9pm. And then I wait some more. At 10 minutes to 8, the VIP emerges with a group of men. They are laughing and speaking rather loudly.

“Yes, a round of golf tomorrow sounds great!” one of them says.

Golf? Tomorrow is Thursday. Another day, another CS “building the nation”. He nods and shakes their hands as they say their goodbyes. Then he turns to me.

“Samantha, come in.”

I follow him into his office.

“Something to drink?” he asks.

“No, I’m fine,” I respond.

“Please, sit,” he gestures to the sofa.

 My palms are sweaty. This is it! This is what Mr N and I have planned for…


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