Metropole Magazine

 
 
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14 Mar

Jamal is an Abuja-based billionaire bachelor and businessman who works hard and parties hard. Welcome to his world.

 
Week 22
 
Monday

I flew to Anambra early this morning to attend the funeral of one of my long-term associates, having paid for his body to be flown back to his village from Sweden where he died during a business trip. On my flight back, I told Aliyu about what my mother said about Ishaya’s mother faking cancer to collect money, and Ishaya’s cocaine addiction. “I knew not to trust that family, but you and Zainab and Alhaji felt sorry for them,” I told him. I called Ishaya to tell him his job offer has been revoked until he tells me the truth.

 

Tuesday

I asked my New York MD to send a private investigator to Atlanta to find out information about Ishaya’s mother. Ishaya came to my office vowing that he had been clean for two years and that his mother was truly sick, but I smell a big rat. I heard that Nnenna, one of my favourite girls from the past, was getting married, so I asked a driver to bring her to my office so I could congratulate her personally. “But Oga you said not to bring any woman...” I cut him off and ordered him to go, but she wasn’t at home.

 

Wednesday

My mother refused to talk about her cancer, and Ishaya was disturbing me with appeals again. Zainab was spending time poring over wedding decorations, colours and venues; she had finally agreed to a wedding in Rome. I told her to make sure it was spectacular. She agreed to come to a fundraising dinner with me and wore a beautiful Steve McQueen gown and I was in a pinstriped Burberry suit. I was required to make a speech and used the opportunity to scan the hall, but luckily no past conquests were in attendance, only the mother of one of them and a few women I’d turned down.

 

Thursday

I asked my security to ransack Ishaya’s house, car and clothes for drugs and found nothing. I had to make sure he was clean before finally agreeing to his employment. “Even one roll of marijuana and we’re done,” I told him. Zainab called me a hypocrite since I also smoked sometimes, but I told her I was the boss. One of my properties in Wuse 2 burnt down last night, so I arranged for its demolition and rebuilding and offered to temporarily re-house the occupants at one of my empty properties. I joined Alhaji at dinner with some investors and partners.

 

Friday

I finally secured the deeds to my yacht, so I celebrated at my wine bar with Stanley, some of my senior staff and associates, and Zainab agreed to come when I told her she would be the only woman invited. Her phobia of another public humiliation was still strong. “But you can’t avoid attending social events with me forever Zee,” I told her. We went through 25 bottles of champagne and 58 bottles of wine, and I revealed that the yacht will be christened ‘Beautiful Zee.’

 

Saturday

During our weekly conference calls, topics up for discussion included my London MD’s exit from ZeeGC, our looming takeover of a Kenyan company and expansion into Canada. I had a long meeting with some Turkish businessmen about a possible real estate partnership, then went with Zainab to a BBQ at her friend’s mansion in Asokoro. Unfortunately I had a torrid history with one of the women there, but apart from her staring intently at Zainab and I, she didn’t say anything and left early. Phew!

 

Sunday

After a long meeting with the Chen brothers where we had a conference call with the Vice President, I remembered about Nnenna and asked my driver to take me to her house, which he did reluctantly. She was home with some friends, so I congratulated her on her engagement and was about to leave when she was called away, so I waited in the hall way before casually strolling into her bedroom, then she walked in behind me and closed the door. The energy between us was intense and within 20 seconds we had ripped each other's clothes off.

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07 Mar

Jamal is an Abuja-based billionaire bachelor and businessman who works hard and parties hard. Welcome to his world.

Week 21

 

Monday

I sent Zainab an email stating that I was not happy with the way she hung up on me yesterday, and I was not comfortable with the man she was with, and she replied that there’s nothing to worry about. Who will be in her hotel room calling her Zee? I called her and demanded to see him, or speak to him, but she refused. “Can’t I have male friends? Don’t be a hypocrite Jamal.” “Do I have female friends? No!” I hollered on the phone. “You sleep with all your female friends!” she shot back. I was surprised at her venom. I sulked throughout the day and lost my temper with my London MD during a conference call.

 

Tuesday

I was tempted to fly to New York and bring Zainab home immediately, but Aliyu told me to calm down. “She’s not the kind of girl to cheat Jamal” he said. I flew to Dubai instead to meet with some associates and also consolidate Alhaji’s business holdings. The Burj Al Arab is becoming overrun with tourists so I only went there for our meetings and stayed at the Radisson instead. I was still suspicious of Zainab and she was been evasive, and when she called to tell me about their day, I seethed at her about her deviousness.

 

Wednesday

At the weekend I had asked my New York MD to get a private investigator to follow Zainab and find out who the man was, and he called today with the report. “His name is Abimbola Bankole, he went to the same secondary school as Miss Zainab. And sir...err...” my MD trailed off. “What is it?!” I shouted. “Is she sleeping with him? Tell me!” “No, no sir, it’s the opposite. He’s gay sir.” “That’s why I didn’t tell you Jamal,” Zainab said when I told her that someone I knew saw them. “And I know how much you dislike flamboyant gay men. Bims has blond hair, blue eyes and carries a handbag. I was just going to show you the pictures when I returned.” I didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified that my fiancée had attached herself to a flaming homosexual abroad.

 

Thursday

I flew back to Abuja this evening on my jet after long talks with Arab, Nigerian and American businessmen. All of them are the same when it comes to money. Zainab sent me a picture of herself and ‘Bims’ sipping milkshake from straws from the same glass. The man had painted his finger nails red and plucked his eyebrows. “Please, it’s OK. Don’t ever let me see another picture of him again. I don’t even want to hear him talk when I call.” Zainab laughed at my disgust. “The girls and I are having so much fun thanks to Bims, she really knows how to party!” He’s even referring himself as ‘she’ now. Abomination.

 

Friday

Ishaya Gumbo returned to my office. The N200K I gave him had run out and he was desperate, I could see it. He agreed to the chief of staff position in Kaduna on N100K a month, and I’ll provide a house and car for him. I asked him why he wanted to go to Kaduna when he could make more money in Abuja, and he said he wanted a wife from there. I was positioning ZeeGC to take over an ailing construction company in Nairobi, our first foray into East Africa, so I met with Dr Bolagun and a few others to discuss the details.

 

Saturday

My driver picked Zainab up from the airport in my Honda CR Z and brought her to my house, where I had prepared a nice welcome. “So you thought I went abroad to cheat on you?” We were in the Jacuzzi. I told her I couldn’t live if I found out she’d been with someone else. “Imagine how I felt then, each and every time you cheated.” I told her women were built to absorb men’s folly and she threw a chocolate covered strawberry at me. This evening she refused to go with me to a newspaper awards event, saying she didn’t want to run into another one of my conquests.

 

Sunday

Had brunch with the Canadian Ambassador to discuss my investments in his country, and called my mother afterwards to tell her I’ll be coming to Canada soon with my fiancée. “I told you to leave that girl’s family alone. Anyway, I have cancer. Bring me dawada when you come...” “Mama you’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me?!” “Calm down you foolish boy. I don’t want your money.” I was stunned. “Is it everyone that goes abroad that has cancer?” She asked what I meant and I told her about Ishaya and his mother. “Hmm. That woman has been lying that she’s sick, Gumbo’s cousin sent her N2m and I sent her $5, 000 after she kept disturbing me, until a friend in Atlanta saw her in a clothes store wearing sunglasses, heels and too much gold. And that Ishaya was fired from every terrible job he ever had in America. I blame the cocaine he’s been snorting since he was a teenager.”

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