If you’ve been following us on Sabinews, you will recall that we did a story, Cougars on the loose.
That story wasn’t fiction; what we didn’t tell you was that it was inspired by a real cougar. She had initially agreed to an interview but backed out and so we had to change the direction of our story.
However, when we published it, she read our story and called us to give more juice while still insisting that her privacy be protected and certain obvious facts about her life be removed.
For the sake of this story, we will call our Cougar Beth. Now, Beth is a woman in her early fifties.
‘I’m 56,” she corrected, “and when I read your piece, I couldn’t help calling you to tell you a bit more of my story. Many of the things you said, I agree with but you don’t know the koko of the matter.”
I’m a learner and always eager to get an education, I arranged myself to listen. This would be way better than watching Captain America-Civil War, I reasoned as as I cancelled the movie I had scheduled to go watch at ICM before she called.
“I am a very ambitious woman, I know a lot of people don’t like that, they believe a woman’s place is in the kitchen. Right from when I was in secondary school, I knew what I wanted, I wanted a good life and I knew nobody would hand it to me on a platter.”
Beth went on to tell of how she got into politics and from there became a woman of some means. Cash passed through her for some campaign or political purposes, she didn’t go into details but I had a general understanding of how politics and money mix around here.
“I had cash, mehn, solid cash,” she boasted. “I have always liked young boys, even in secondary school; I always dated boys in junior classes. In those days, some of my friends will say, “ Ehen, don’t come and start sleeping with my brother o, I will kill you.”
But I always countered. “I dey force your brother? Abi e tell you say the thing dey pain am when I finish?”
We were deep in our discussion when a young stud in his twenties, still fresh faced like a kid who’d just been snatched from his mama’s breast came downstairs.
The boy was fine, like the waiter at the restaurant the other day; huge chest, huge arms and thighs, even I was impressed by his Raja Ramjet build.
He was polite too, “Good day, madam,” he greeted me.
In truth, I felt disgusted, I have a son just a few years younger, I’ll probably claw any cougar preying on him. I felt sad that Beth and her type were exploiting these boys. She didn’t see the disgust on my face because she leaned towards me and whispered, “That’s my new baby…look, if this boy handle you ehnn?” She nudged me and rolled over on her seat, a school girl again.
“But what can he do for you apart from sex?” I asked. “He can’t help you with major decisions in your business or plan a life with you, sis, life is more than sex.” I wanted to talk some sense into her but she smiled and responded with:
“But I have the life, it’s the sex I don’t have and that boy gives it to me.”
Then I had to ask, ‘Don’t you feel one kind? I mean the boy is old enough to be your son?’
“I don’t want to marry him, I just want to enjoy myself, look at my skin, you think it is spa making me glow like this? It’s from waxing, regular waxing and these boys are never tired. That’s all they think of. He too just wants to have fun, there are many of his friends also banging women old enough to be their mothers, they have cash, they have good clothes, they can pay their fees because of our generosity. Have their parents asked them where they get these things? By the way, they are not complaining?”
So I backed off my sanctimonious stand.
It’s true, they boy wasn’t looking unhappy or like a captive but, going forward, I was going to be careful with my son around women like Beth.
“Hummn, I maintain him. Food, clothes, shelter, name it, I maintain him.”
Do you go out with him, to public places?
“Yes, we go to clubs together and certain places. If I need to travel, we will travel separately, you know just to be discreet, you know Nigerians haven’t gotten used to a woman being older in a relationship, so sometimes people just assume he is my relative, few people imagine he’s my cub.”
Aha, that word cub, a very enlightened friend of mine corrected me.
So, do you call yourselves cougars and he a cub?
“No now, does a sugar daddy call himself a sugar daddy? It’s the name people outside gave us and we, well, we just live with it, we don’t necessarily say, hey, I’m a cougar, come and be my cub, no.”
So what keeps the attraction, yeah, I mean apart from the sex?
He must be in charge on the bed. I want a guy who is strong and lasts longer…like bunny batteries and is open to all kinds of toys to play with and tease me. Yes. He must know what he’s doing and maintain my interest for long.”
It’s been said that cougars are more at play in Abuja, Port Harcourt and Benin, why not Lagos?
There are too many gossips in Lagos, before you know it, one tabloid has carried your news and is using you to make money…even you sef how can I trust you fully?”
We are not a tabloid and we don’t do sleaze or gossip.
“I hear you, anyway I think I’ve said enough already.”
And with that, Beth got up and saw me to the door.