friendships – Page 2 – 21stcenturybelle

Omowashe Omorishe#15

Bridal Shower

bridal shower

Lana has been a rock through the highs and lows of the wedding preparation. Despite employing a wedding planner, there were loads of activities and things to do that would have been overwhelming and daunting.

She had bullied me into making up my mind about the gown I wanted after visiting several shops, and nothing appealed to me.
My dream dress was one of sophistication laced with classical in between of conservative and provocative. I wanted an elegant gown that did justice to the best features of my body while hiding away its imperfection and throwing into the limelight its perfection.

Phil has been more out of town than in, working on wrapping the project at Dubai so he could take a holiday off for the honeymoon. We were going to Casablanca. The beautiful city of Morocco ruled by monarchy like the United Kingdom. I still had my research to do although Phil had drawn up an itinerary he had asked me to find places of interest I would love to visit.
I often wondered how I got lucky to be loved by a guy that was almost too perfect. He was the perfect gentleman, kind, considerate, generous, and honest and gave me room to be me. He loved me with an intensity that scared me but one that I ultimately returned. You could feel the sparks whenever we were together. Thinking of Phil had a way of lighting up my face. It is the knowledge of that contentment you feel knowing your heart has found its home.
Call me crazy but I desperately wanted what I had for Lana. I watched Andrew in the office, and I do not think my eyes were fooling me. Although he tried hard to mask it, it was evident he had something for Lana. Perhaps he did not know it himself, but something was going on nonetheless oblivious to both of them but might eventually happen, and I hope it did. If Bode was out of the picture, she needed a little nudge in the right direction at seeing other options, particularly, one that was right before her eyes every day.

I had only met Bode twice during our national youth service corps but was surprised he remembered me when I ran into him at the Superstores on the Island
“Hi, you are Lana’s friend?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered juggling my memory to where I knew the face.

“I’m Bode Coker. He introduced himself to me judging from my vague look. I could not remember the face. I was terrible with faces but great with names. I never forgot a name. It could sometimes be embarrassing and in my younger days, my friends usually thought I was pretending, but it was a fault I worked so hard to overcome but had stuck to me like a shadow and since the name was my thing I used that to my advantage.

“Bode Coker!” I squealed and gave him a quick hug like a long lost brother.

“My God! When did you come into town?” I asked trying to come to terms with this encounter and what it could mean.

“Was I supposed to be out of town?” he asked with confusion is his brown eyes.

“I got this feeling you were out of the country although things were not okay between you and Lana,” I replied.

“Yeah that was five years ago, and it was a six months training,” he said his eyes twinkling now at my confusion.

“How’s Lana doing?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

“She is good, but whatever happened to you two?” I ventured boldly without wasting time, and this was my opportunity to get the facts right and see how I could help them to get back together.

“Your friend must have told you,” he said with a hint of disbelief in his voice taking a deep breath like one letting the tension out, but the tension was several years ago.

“No, she did not. That is one of the only areas Lana has her lips sealed. She only guaranteed me that you were not the reason for the breakup which is why I am still here having a conversation with you.And not looking at some way to inflict bodily harm on you, equal to the pain she has been going through all these years,” I said watching for any telltale sign in his eyes.

“I must thank my stars, but you must be exaggerating your friend’s pain,” he said with a look of hurt in his eyes.

“How’s she doing?” he asked with so much love that I almost broke down at what these two people have been going through over the years but confused that he had made no effort to contact her.

“If you were so concerned, why have you not checked on her more so you have been in the same city?” I asked bewildered but sure to get my answers from him today.
“Lana spelt it out that she I was not to check on her and she would contact me when she came to terms with what she was dealing with at that time,” he said the pain in his eyes now replaced with regret.

“She said she wanted time and what I thought will be one month turned into five years, and here I am still waiting,” he said sadly.

“You are kidding me right?” I asked shocked.

“I know Lana said she developed cold feet but not keeping to her word is very unlike her. But come to think of it, you mean Lana never got back to you, and you never bothered to see her for an explanation all these five years?” I asked short of stunned.

“I am sorry to say this, but I am yet to meet two clueless people in love oblivious to the unnecessary pain they have caused each other and more so to themselves” I voiced my opinion with much chagrin.

“You do have a good idea of Lana’s capability. She loves you to take her at her word. Had I showed up then it would have been futile,” he answered exasperatedly.

“One thing that Lana made clear was that you were a better person than her,” I commented.

“She could not have been more wrong. Looking back at the years I should have not given in without fighting back for the love we once shared,” he said resignedly.

“Do you think I still have space in her life?” He asked with a vulnerability I had not seen before.

“Lana, is the only person who can provide the answer but if you never try to find out how would you know?” I asked.

“She never talked about you. Your name is more like a taboo. I don’t think she got over you, but she is too stubborn to admit it. You will have to win her back with slowly with a constant show of love and affection. Let her see that you are won’t change now or in the future. If you can do that, you might stand a chance of winning her back,” I advised.

“Let it be on her terms. If she wants to see you or not. Let what she feels for you grow. In one shell let her make her decision without pressure,” I added.

“That is what I have allowed her to do and see where it got us,” he argued.

“You will let her be, but not from outside the scene. Be in her life but not crowd it,” I encouraged him.

What I said did not seem to make any sense even to me, but I had heard Lana lament to know how important that was to her.

“She does not believe in love existing after marriage. She feels what happens while dating flies out of the window after the wedding,” I offered a feeble explanation nonetheless hoping the message gets through to him.

“She never gave me a clue,” he said surprised, and I could see the battle on his face as he tried to take in all I said.

“I wonder if it is the same person we are talking about here,” he said.

“Perhaps you never knew her, I concluded.

“Nothing is guaranteed with Lana. I hope you know that, but you can put in all your best and hope it all works out,” I advised.

“When and if you do get back together, you’ll have to do a lot more talking so understand each other,” I said.

“As her friend, I want what is best for her, and if that is you in her life you have my blessing,” I said wishing with all my heart that Lana will see how good a second chance she has been handed and make good use of it.

“Here,” I said giving him my wedding and complimentary card.
“We work in the same office, I offered. Giving Bode a lifeline on how to reach her.

I left Bode feeling exhilarated hoping that Lana will thank me one day for meddling in her affairs. But she needed this push to shore. I tried to convince myself I was doing the right thing as I had no intention of letting her know about me meeting with Bode Coker.
I hoped the surprise element would work, with Lana thinking and analysing everything through she would be taken unawares, and her reaction would be more likely to be from her heart and not her head.

*************

Peju and I eventually made the trip to London, three weeks before her wedding. She said it was time out as single girls together. It was a fun trip and one we shopped. I could not have come this way without taking back souvenirs. That’s what I called them, but they turned out to be my full two luggage allowance and extra luggage.

A week to Peju’s wedding we had the bridal shower. The event was both hilarious and teary. We invited Phil for the hot seat section. The other girls had questions for him.
When he walked in, dressed in the traditional attire of white guinea brocade designed in grey embroidery and black palm slippers. His well-shaved look with the hairs around his mouth like that of Banky W the Nigerian R and B crooner, the ladies were swooning while Peju gestured “he’s not available,” with the rest of the girls bursting into giggles.

Time for the hot seat.
And I was the one reading out the questions as the girls submitted them in the raffia basket I passed around.
We started with Phil.

“Where did you first meet her and when?”

“Monday,10th of July 2006 at precisely 8:45pm.I first met Peju at the Marco Polo Restaurant on the island one evening. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid my eyes on, and I wanted to get to know her. Unfortunately, I had no clue to who she was and I was in the middle of a business meeting.
I took a brief excuse for the gents only to go towards the service point and order an ice bucket of champagne to her and the lady she was with which was turned down.
I did not know when they left, and I lost that opportunity. I could not recognise her friend as she had her back to me who now I know as Lana. Had I seen Lana, I probably would have met Peju faster as Lana, as Lana was in my office the next that same week.
However, Cupid smiled on me when at my Mother’s birthday, I saw her again, vowed never to let her go. The rest is history.
Being the moderator, I mouthed to Peju, girl we must have a talk tonight. How come I was just finding that out tonight? I recalled that night perfectly. I had been upset, and Peju drove off after work for a meal at our beloved Chinese restaurant.

The other girls were clapping and smiling as Phil stole their hearts with his precision and accuracy. I caught Chinwe wiping a tear or two from her face.

Turning to Peju, “When was the first time you met him?” I asked the same question.

“At his mother’s party. I took a look at him, and I was smitten. Mine was love at first sight,” she said with a smile on her face bright enough to compete with the sun.

“As the moderator and one who has been with them from the beginning but whose job but will ultimately end next week Saturday, I can confirm their story,” I joked.

I directed the next question at Peju.

“What do you like best about Phil?

“His thoughtfulness, kindness, devotion and love and his hot looks – the typical tall, dark and handsome romance character,” she teased.

This seat is not hot enough,” I challenged the girls sending in the questions

“Phil, what do you love most about Peju?” I read the next question.

“She is beautiful in a drop dead gorgeous way, gentle and kind. She laughs a lot and love to tease, and she is all real and no pretence,” he answered with a triumph grin his face.

I have another question here. But Phil signalled to me as I drew close he whispered he had to leave urgently. We would have gone on, but Phil had to go for another engagement.

We rocked the party till midnight as we all shared how we met Peju, our good wishes on her journey to matrimony and gifts.

The girls bombarded Peju with questions about the wedding night with a lot of advice coming from people who were not even married.
I was quick to make my observation but was shut down by Agnes.
“Who says you have to be married before you know what goes on in between the sheets?” argued Agnes, a girl with a reputation for having a new boyfriend every month.

It was time to open the gifts, and we all had a good laughter as each girl explained the use of the gift.
Agnes was back on the scene with her gift of a black all net lingerie leaving nothing to your imagination.
“And this is for the wedding night, not that he requires you wear anything,” she said making moaning noises that made the rest of the girls put their fingers into their ears.

“What do you think that is? If you are not all pretending how do you recognise the noise that you are closing your ears?” she accused us.
“Peju your Nun days are over welcome to your glorious days of prostitution with Phil as your only client

We cried, we laughed, danced and had fun as we ushered Peju into the institution of marriage, the only institution you get a certificate before you start and not the usual awarded after your program.

Omowashe Omorishe#14

Love stole on me

Calm

The days flew by as we got ready for Peju’s big day. We were at work in the day and hitting the road in the evenings for dress fittings, meetings with the wedding planner, makeup artist, and hairstylist for trials interior decorator for the house. There was so much to do. I was surprised at the work that had to go in for a four-hour program.

I shuddered to think what would have happened if we had not involved the services of a wedding planner because we still had so much to do on our part.
I was fatigued weeks before the wedding, and I could only imagine what Peju was going through. I looked forward to that day more with relief that all the craziness of the last couple of weeks will end.

One of the exciting moments of the event was my meeting with Phil’s Mum. I had all but forgotten about our meeting at her birthday party and how drawn I was to her. Mrs Idowu was grace and beauty personified. If getting such a woman was in the marriage package, I would not have minded being in Peju’s shoes with the kind of scary mother in law stories we hear about today. She was a breath of fresh air, and I considered Peju lucky to have her. We had several meetings with her that I had even carried on some without Peju. I did not mind she was one woman you left refreshed and ready to take on the whole world.

If I ever was asked a mentor I wanted to her to be one. She had her business and home worked out to perfection. I was surprised when I found out the companies she managed. Chief and Phil were not the only ones who had businesses in the family. She had a portfolio that rivaled theirs. I made a mental note to come back after the wedding to ask her to sign up with my Bank.

My closeness to the family during this period was a delight to see how they all related to each other with love and adoration. Phil and his father Chief treated her like royalty. She ran the Idowu Empire, but you could also see grace and kindness around her, and there was no doubt as to why the men treated her with respect and devotion.

On one of my visits, there she was in the garden wrapped in the arms of her husband. To see elderly people with love and romance after almost thirty years of marriage was one of the sweetest things I had experienced. It made me begin to reconsider my stance. That my parents’ marriage was not the defining factor of how unions would turn out and theirs was just one of the many failed ones, and there were many other successful ones like what Chief and his wife had.

To go by the saying that you could judge how a son would treat his wife by how his father treats his mother and how he treats his mother then, Peju had hers figured out for good. Love, romance and luxury in the mix.
I did not know when it happened, but I looked forward to getting married someday when I had gathered enough courage to tear down completely my walls of unbelief about marriage. I was a step ahead in the positive direction as hope ignited in my heart.
I hope to meet that special someone who would treat me right till we were old and grey haired.

*******
I let myself in with my key. It was nice to see my mother in the living room watching a soap – Tinsel.
“Mum!” I called after greeting.

“I did not know that you watch this program. I have not been able to follow up the episodes in a long while,” I said dropping into the seat beside hers.

“I stumbled into it last month and got hooked. It is interesting and engaging,” my mum said without taking her eyes off the screen.

“How are you? She asked now looking me over. You know this mother look that pierces into your soul searching for what you are not saying.

“I am good, in between work and Peju’s wedding, I am completely swamped,” I replied.

“You both need to take it slow,” she advised.

“Any news on yours?” she asked hopefully.
Trust my mum not to miss any opportunity to ask what was dearest to her heart right now – getting me married off.

“Remain expectant, mum,” I said squeezing her hands not wanting to dampen her hope. In the past, I had either ignored the questioned or teased her on how she could not wait to get rid of me

“What was it like when you first married?” I asked her as the episode came to an end.

“It was heaven. Your Dad, and I got married in England. We were in the same university and the only Nigerians in the faculty. It was only natural we got together. More so, we were from the same state and had so much in common,” she said with the most beautiful smile I had seen on her.

“I thought yours was an arranged marriage, like one of convenience,” I teased.

“No,” she said with a shudder.

“It was the norm then, but I got lucky and married to someone wanted, and not my parent’s imposition, unlike others who were not so fortunate.

“I want to hear the whole story,” I said settling into my chair gazing at her expectantly.

“There is not much to tell,” my mum said shyly.

“Okay, Mum say the little there is to tell,” I begged.

“I saw your Dad on my first day on campus. He was one of the very few African men on campus so it was easy to notice him. He came up to me, introduced himself and told me where to find him if I needed any help. He was a year ahead of me. We became friends, and he asked me to marry him. I did at that time; that was the best thing that could happen to me.

“You were not in love?” I asked surprised.

“I liked him enough to marry him we did and started a family with Nekan, and you came along after that.

“Mum, why don’t you want to say you fell in love with him,” I chastised her? She made it sound so businesslike and obligatory even Ronald Reagan was more passionate in his tear down the wall speech to Gorbachev in West Berlin in 1987.

“I loved your Dad and still do but sometimes love is not enough,” she said sadly.

“What would be enough?” I asked. I wanted to know perhaps it would answer some of my questions.

“Hard work, discipline, sacrifice, keeping in- laws out of your personal issues, communication and understanding,” she reeled out with ease.

“Was that what was missing for you and Dad? You live like strangers and try to hide it, but Nekan and I saw through it,” I told her emboldened by the heart to heart moment.

“We sought to stay together beyond our differences to give you girls a home, but I guess it did not make a difference, she sighed dejectedly.

“Mum,” I called and held her hands compassionately grateful for the sacrifice she made staying in an enduring marriage just for my sister and me.

“You both must have done your best. What I saw in our home, influenced my decision to stay off marriage but in the last few weeks preparing for Peju’s wedding, I saw that not all marriages end up disastrous, and there are lovely marriages to be desired out there. I can hope again that when I find love, I won’t run away this time. And in that hope I wish Dad, and you would find a way back to yourselves again,” I said encouraging and willing her to fight for her marriage.

“We are far too gone apart that love matters less now. A lot has happened with complications that are now too difficult to resolve,” she said wiping away her tears.

I was taken aback by my mum’s tears. My mum might not want to declare her love for my Dad, but you could see it shining through her eyes.
We were both carried away in our discussion that we failed not hear my Father come in. I had no idea how long he had stood there and what he had heard, but he came and stood in front of my mum wiping her eyes as he pulled her up into his arms.

“It has been too long Dupe, but we can work it out together,” my Dad whispered to her.

I slipped out leaving the new lovebirds with a song rising in my heart. Miracles do happen.
All things were going looking up pleasantly for me except I had lost Bode for good. I close my eyes and allow the pain to wash over me one last time as I vowed to move on and hope love will find me again.

Bode’s story did not end with me not calling and giving up. I knew he was back in town from a mutual friend and collected his address to pay him a surprise visit, apologise and remind him of his promise to wait for me rather than call on the phone.

I dressed that day, taking care of my makeup and dress with hints of what he had said he liked when we dated, colour, shoes, dress style. It was a peace offering. I had no doubt we would work out our relationship and make up for the lost years.If only I had an inkling of the drama that awaited me when I arrived at his place.The shock I received when I got to his place and found out he was married was enough to send me to an early grave.

The lady introduced herself to me as his wife. I remember the look of satisfaction on her face at my disbelief and disappointment and how she wagged her ring finger in my face, possibly in a bit to taunt me.

She obviously knew who I was and enjoyed the pain I was going through. I did not blame her. My loss was her gain. She had a fantastic guy, and it was okay to show off especially to an ex who discarded him like a dishcloth.
How I made it back home that day driving was a blur, but I did get home safely to deal my misery.

I cried for weeks, heartbroken and there was no one to confide in. I had made my bed and had to lie on it, but it was not what I wanted. If only I could turn the hands of the clock back to the day, I told Bode I needed a break. If only I could explain to him my fears and how I felt. If only I had called him back that same day that I had not meant all I said as my heart yearned to. If only I had not given into the logical side of my brain and analysed my romance like a science experiment.

The if-only were too many, but they were not going to bring me out of the hole I fell in. I never thought I could get out. It was the feeling of being afraid to breathe. Going through all the motions of life but your heart was not in it. I was a living dead. I lost what mattered most because I was too selfish to recognise the best gift that was handed to me in the person of Bode Coker and now I had lost him forever.

In my grief, I convinced myself that I was okay, my career was enough, and there was no room for romance or family. I had a wall around my heart enforced my beliefs which were gradually crumbling down.
Love and family were okay, and I could pray to open my heart at a second chance if I was lucky to get one.

Omowashe Omorishe#13

Slowly but surely

Experience

“Peju you’ve got to choose a gown,” I scolded her.
“We have been to all but one wedding dress shop on both the island and mainland, and you are yet to get a gown of your choice. I suggest you give Vera Wang a call. I am sure you would get something from her, or maybe we should look for Frank Osodi. He is as good as Vera Wang,” I said frustrated that we have been unable to get a design she liked.

We had spent the last two months in and out of all the wedding dress shops that we could find and much to my chagrin she had not been able to spot a style she loved. There was always a- but in the dresses she saw.

She wanted a wedding dress that could show her figure to the nines but appropriate and easy on the eyes. We saw quite a lot of body fitting tube gowns which looked great on her, but she complained she felt exposed in them. If my opinion counted at this point, I wondered how exposed you could get with a wedding gown snug on you, showing all your curves with full sleeves. You are in a long dress for crying out loud not some short skimpy dress.

There are two sides to any wedding gown – just my thoughts. It is either you went with something conservative where all the mothers and church officials are happy or provocative where the men will ogle at the bride. The mothers will eye in disgust, and the younger ladies will look with envy waiting for their time to come and how they would improve or use the same style.

We were yet to find this middle ground Peju was looking for, and here I was facing the herculean task of tagging along on every visit.

Peju suddenly had this look on her face like someone who had caught a divine inspiration. Why did I feel that whatever was coming would not be good?
She pulled out her Louis Vuitton bag and groped in it for about a minute before turning out with a one Dirham coin I supposed she got on our trip to Dubai.

“Heads, Vera Wang and tail, Frank Osodi,” she said tossing the coin into the air, and it landed on tail.

“You decide who would make your dress by flipping a coin?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes, so that settles it, I would describe what I want and hope he creates the magically look I desire,” said on a final note.

“Dress sorted we can move to other things.” she concluded.

The attendants at the shop were watching us like a television sitcom.

Frank Osodi had created an exceptional wedding gown for a bride in one of the issues of Ovation Magazine I got to read at the salon while waiting to make my hair a while ago. The writer said, “He was as good as any international designer.

Sheila my cousin, the nail expert had also worked on that Bride. I put a call through to her for contact details.

“I hope yours comes out exceptional, or I would blame myself,” I grumbled.

Sheila offered to call and book an appointment on our behalf. She told us he ran a busy schedule in and out of the country and would be lucky if he could take up our job.

“For a Nigerian designer?” I asked with disdain.

“Yes for a Nigerian designer,” she mimicked me.

“One whose design will make you will eat humble pie,” Sheila vowed.

“I hope so,” I said with no enthusiasm, still sceptical.

Turning to Peju, “I have gotten his number, but you heard Sheila, she would call on our behalf. Hopefully, that should help.”

“Back to your coin tossing, would you have gone with Vera Wang? I asked with doubt.

“I would have gladly gone with you on that trip,” I said dreamily with the advent of my new hobby in globetrotting, I could not pass up every opportunity to travel.
Peju was back into her bag pulling out God knows what this time around.
I screamed when she sheepishly handed a ticket to London with my name on it as I looked at her for an explanation.

“Phil got tired of listening to my tales of woe on how I had been unable to secure a gown,” Peju said like going to London was an everyday affair for both of us.

“How good could this get. Dubai then London,” I squealed.

“Girl, I might not envy your walk down the aisle to matrimony, but I do envy this trips,” I said pleased with my good luck.

“It was not my idea, trust me. Phil mentioned it last week, but I brushed it aside. Why do I need to go on an expensive trip to purchase a wedding dress I could as well get here, with proper fittings and adjustment should my weight change just before the wedding,” she said shrugging her shoulders in her peculiar way.

“Another all-expense paid trip. My life is becoming a fairy tale,” I gushed twirling around.

“Did you know London is on my list of places to visit before I turned 30?” I asked giddily with excitement.

“Where is your honeymoon destination? I asked manifesting my Oliver Twist tendencies.

“Why does the work of a maid of honour end at the wedding party?” I moaned as I envisioned her honeymoon destination.

“Oh no yours could continue till the honeymoon,” she said sarcastically pulling my hands as she led me out of the shop.

“You have just confirmed to me the reason I need to get you married within six months of mine,” she said with a look on her face that spoke an indomitable but achievable feat.

“How do you intend to go about that Mrs Peju Philip Idowu? By wagging some more tickets before me? I teased calling her by her future name. Phil was short for Philip so in away Peju gets to retain her name without the “s.”

“By being resourceful and perceptive,” she said picking her words like she was talking to a toddler.

“You don’t recognise love or romance when it stares you in the face, and that would be my starting point,” she looked me straight in the eye willing me to see her point of view.

“You are wrong Peju,” I said smiling confidently. I may not possess Peju’s specialisation in matters of the heart, but I was not so daft not that I would not see one if it stared me in the eye.
“Am I?” she asked daringly like one preview to a piece of information I did not have.

“Yes,” I said challenging her.

“Then it is no news to you that Andrew has eyes for you only,” she whispered with a hint of provocation in her eyes.

“Oh my dear friend now I am certain you are running a little crazy and losing some part of your senses with all this wedding preparation stress,” I said with a grin and taunting her.

“Andrew is our boss and nothing more. Please don’t mess with my mind, try something else,” I chastised her.

Peju laughed. “I told you. You won’t recognise love staring you in the face,” she said gleefully.

“Should we take a bet?” she asked.
“No way, you flipped a coin and your wedding gown and now want to bet on my love life? I am not travelling that road with you.
“A trip to a place you desire all-expense paid? She said throwing a bait at me.
I shrugged I had nothing to lose but my trip.
“I am in, I agreed.
She pulled out her hand for a handshake, and we did like two business partners only we were two young women betting real life issues like juveniles.

Have you given a thought to the dinner, every opportunity to chit chat and the look on his face when he sees you? If that is not some romance brewing, then tell me what it is. I won’t mess with your mind,” she said raising her hand in mock surrender having fun at my expense.

“Deny it all you want like but this is my new project that you recognise the need for romance in your life.

“You don’t toy with people’s life. We must play fair in this bet of yours,” I warned.

“Do you know what you have done? Every time I see Andrew, I would be checking out if what you said is true? I accused her.

“Lana, you won’t, you would start avoiding him from today onwards. I am only asking to give it a chance. Let go of Bode and move on,” she pleaded.

“Peju,” I called her name shaking my head from side to side. Our bet was already forgotten.

“Do you think all these romance stories happen all through marriage? I am not talking about the initial meeting and all the chemistry going on during the dating stage but after marriage does the love continue? The happily ever after story?” I asked.

“My parents’ marriage was a farce. They lived like strangers in the same house. I could not recall a time I saw them laugh together. They had different schedules in and out of the house that was a deliberate ploy not to be at the same place in the house at the same time. In front of the kids, they were civil and polite.

“Please pass the salt, I am sorry, please excuse me were what we heard in most of their conversations.

To their credit, they doted on us kids. We were their world, but it was like they made up in their relationship with us what they lost in theirs.
The politeness was so sickening like you can almost hear them use it before an argument.

“Please, I’m going to be mad at you and use unkind words.

“Excuse me you would not dare.”

“I am sorry, but I have to,” I repeated the words I had heard from my parents bitterly.

“Every word and action were controlled and regulated. I did not lack parental love, but I did not have an example of what an ideal home should be. The Television and books are not real they are a figment of someone’s fantasy and imagination of a perfect world, but life is not always perfect.

I was drawn to my Uncle Sege and his wife not only because I was his favourite niece and he doted on me, but I loved the way they both related to each other. Where they able to keep romance in their marriage because of the absence of children? Perhaps but I may be wrong.”

“Did you ask your mother why this was so?” Peju asked quietly.

“No,” I never did.

“Although when I was younger, I would ask her if she loved Daddy, and she would answer yes, and when I ask my Dad, he would say yes. They thought they fooled us, and we were not able to see through their act. I concluded love and romance must be a pain,” sharing with Peju was like relieving the pain and confusion of my childhood, but I continued nevertheless.

“You can imagine when Bode started talking about marriage. I panicked and pushed him away. I needed that space as I was getting suffocated with his affection. Love and devotion that I felt will turn to tolerance and politeness after marriage.
My mum said that he was a good man but was she a good judge of character? My Dad must have been a nice person but see the kind of marriage they had.
My parents behaved like the idle couple outside. They were not on a public display of affection but went to functions together dressed alike. They put a front so successfully that I can recollect someone commenting on how lucky my mother was to be married to a faithful and attentive man. Love and romance do not exist after marriage,” I concluded my story, opening up for the first time to someone.

“Thanks for sharing Lana. I did not know, but you need to disabuse your mind and open up. There are love and romance before and after marriage, and it depends on how ready the couple is willing to work on it. No two marriages are the same, and it is not always a bed of roses, but if you work hard at it, one can make theirs a heaven on earth.
Phil, and I have vowed to work through ours together tackling all issues as a team and not a person,” she said with a voice filled with love enough for the whole world.

“Your parents were once in love but something happened along the way that drew them apart, and they could not find a way back together again.
They may not have given a good example for marriage, but they stayed together for your sake.”

“Peju was right I never saw it that way. It would have been awful if they had separated and my sister and I had to be shuffling houses or choose which parent we wanted,” I thought to myself.

“Don’t be afraid to find love. Open up to it. Your mother’s experience does not have to be your experience,” Peju encouraged.

“You are older now, why not talk to them, and you might have new information that would help remove your fears. Who knows them opening up to you might be the beginning of a healing process for both of you,” Peju said.

“You sure have not done counselling in your last life?” I teased lightening the mood.

“Our experiences and environment shape us, but we have the power in us to use this to our advantage and achieve our potential,” Peju continued.

“You’ll take your pain and turn to gain. You might have given up in the past, but you will rise from it. Peju said confidently tapping my shoulder and taking one of my hands in a reassuring squeeze.

I gazed at my watch. “Peju we have been here for over two hours! I exclaimed.
We got into the car, and she drove off but not without her reminding me of our bet.
My mind had a lot and foremost was to have a talk with my parents.

Omowashe Omorishe#11

Dreams come true

ring5

Dubai has been fun all the way. I have not been able to get over the giddiness of being on the trip. I had a fabulous time of wandering around and googling wide-eyed at its picturesque. The city is beautiful. It has been an experience that would linger in my memory for a long time. My beloved Naija paled in comparison to this town of perfection and possibility.
I marveled at every work of architecture and the display of wealth as I moved around the city. For the first time, my loyalty and preference to my roots wavered, and I could hear the winds luring me to consider a relocation.
It was a feeling of how you suddenly realise that your parent’s garden is not as vast and exquisite as you always believed until you stepped out to see bigger and more lovely gardens out there. Much to my chagrin, came the discovery on my maiden voyage out of the shores of my motherland.
Before now, I had never traveled out of the country. While others traveled out for summer vacation, my sister and I slugged it with our father traipsing the length and breadth of the country. We were privileged to learn and relate to its history and diverse culture. It could also be responsible for my patriotic nature. Sadly that too is now in question with only one visit out.
Now I am filled with regret for not taking the Paris offer. There is a new drive to see the world. I have already added cities to visit on my bucket list of things to do before turning thirty. Places like Madrid and Barcelona in Spain, Venice in Italy, Cairo in Egypt, Puerto Rico, London and New York. I have promised myself the luxury of globetrotting.
On the last night of our trip, I was too tired to venture out. Luckily I had seen all there was to see on my list of places to visit. I decided to rest my feet and read a book before going to bed.
I must have slept off when Peju burst in the room shaking me vigorously to break her good news as she narrated to me the next morning.
I probably must have been offended in between my state of dreamland and light consciousness. I heard her announce her engagement to Mr Phillip Idowu CEO Ideal Oil and Gas, Business mogul and Lagos most eligible bachelor. Flipping her ringed finger before my half closed eyes, I groggily gazed at her babbling incoherently as I tried to make sense of all she was saying.
The next morning was none too hilariously because Peju was sleeping when I spotted the ring on her finger. I shook her mercilessly with an infectious excitement and a scream that came out with a sound similar to the screech from a car on high speed whose break is applied suddenly.
“You sly fox when did you get this? Last night? And you did not wake me up?” she asked in her peculiar way of throwing several questions at you in one breath.
She woke up with a start and looked at me like I had grown horns on my head or something much worse.
“Last night and I woke you up to break the news.” she said indignantly.
“No, you did not,” I challenged her this was is not a piece of news one could ignore or forget overnight.
“I did. You woke up looked at me mouthed may be congratulations or perhaps a get lost,” Peju explained wearily.

“No, you did not,” I insisted.
I would not have bothered to wake you up if it was stale news.” I reasoned with her.
“Yeah,” she answered drily.
Nevertheless, I found it hard to believe that I slept through the breaking news.
“Not only did you sleep through, but you also treated my story like it was no news at all. The only reason I did not pour a bucket of water over to wake you was the thrill I would get this morning when you found out. And I have not been disappointed,” Peju said with a full smile.
I heaved a sigh of relief not without throwing a pillow at her before I picked her hand and gazed at the ring sparkling a thousand glittering lights in all directions.
“You got your dream girl. I am super excited for you. Wasn’t it some few months ago I was talking about marrying you off. How fortunate I am not to have to embark on such an arduous assignment and here you are snagging the most priced bachelor,” I said, and this got her smiling from ear to ear.
I did a double take on my observation which got me thinking, and I was quick to share my thoughts.
“Peju, what are you more excited about, meeting the guy of your dreams or snagging this wealthy boyfriend. You seem to me in love more with his status than his person.”
“My dear some things should be clear to you already as to who I am. I was not looking for money when Phil came along, but I would not deceive myself that it is thrilling to be blessed to meet someone good looking, caring, thoughtful and wealthy. What more can any girl ask for in life?” she asked dreamily.
“Plenty,” I answered stubbornly.
I did agree with her that wealth coming with the package was a plus, but there were many sides to a man than his possession.
“If you and I were to plan this trip, how long do you think we would have saved without feeling pain when we check our bank balances? I doubt we would have been able to be here on our bill and staying at the Pullman Hotel. If it were a loan, we probably would have been paying monthly installment right to our graves. So I am excited about him and my new life of love, laughter and luxury.”
I could not argue with her on this one.
“Kai like those romance books kuwa! She exclaimed injecting words from her acquired native Hausa language.
I stare at her blankly.
“Hello!” waving my right hand in front of her face to bring her out of her supposed trance.
“I am lost here with your gibberish,” I said.
“It is an exclamation which did not change the meaning of what I said just adding weight to the words like when you use the word “honestly”. I have not sold you yet, still looking for the highest bidder,” she teased.
“Whatever? I said shrugging my shoulders with an attitude.
“Back to our gist. I wish you all the happiness possible,” I said lifting an imaginary cup in a toast.
“Thank you,” she said clicking her imaginary cup with mine.
“I’ll make a bargain with you upfront which is I get to go on some trips with you, all – expense paid.
“Now who is the sly fox?” she asked grinning.
“I am negotiating before you enter your kingdom and forget us mere mortals,” I teased.
“I can’t forget you. It can’t and won’t happen. You are a girl’s best friend.”
“Oh please!” I said rolling my eyes.
“I do what I need to do because it is the right thing to do and we both stand in to pitch our help for one another. We have each others back, appreciate respect each other. If anyone has kept our friendship is more you than me so don’t praise me. I said with nose crinkling and too quickly added, “we should be celebrating and not going sentimental.”

We ordered room service for our breakfast, raqaq, one of the most traditional bread known in the UAE, with cheese and Iranian Coffee. For desert Fruit salad with olives in it and a jug of orange juice.
I spat out the olives in disgust as soon as I tasted it. Thankfully it was just Peju and I. It would have been utter misery to swallow it down my throat. I had seen the small black fruit, the size of a grape during our previous meals and had stirred clear off it until today I decided to be adventurous enough to try it out, and how grave my reward was.
“The olive taste horrible!” I exclaimed wondering what all the noise about olives is.
“It is healthy and good for the body,” Peju commented.
“I can use the oil but to take the fruit is a no-no for me,” I said as a matter of fact.
“Why do most healthy foods have nasty tastes and our favourites have a fantastic taste but are not healthy options?” I wondered aloud.
A question I am not able to adequately answer but what comes to mind is the use of refined sugars in their preparation.
While I ranted, Peju took all the olives without a complaint.
“How can you eat that? It’s got a bitter taste. ”I asked looking at her dubiously wondering what she added to hers. Peju has a sweet tooth she could not have eaten the olives.
“It’s healthy, and that is my singular motivation. You don’t see olives on the streets back home,” Peju answered too sweetly.
“I know that, but I can’t get it down my throat,”I grumbled downing a cup of juice to make the awful taste go away.
I eyed the olives on Peju’s plate like it was some mortal enemy.
And I courageously put one in my mouth.
“Oh now, you’ve been eating this sweet berry in the name of olive.”
For reasons I could not explain Peju had blackberry while I had olive and to watch her go on preaching her sermon on healthy foods feasting on blackberry.
“I should have guessed earlier,” I muttered.

Today being the last day, we spent the better part of the day indoors to conclude on packing our luggage. Phil had a meeting this morning. Although it was Sunday, in Dubai Sunday was what Monday was to us back at home. He would be seeing us later in the day. He was not coming back with us as he still had work to do and won’t be in Nigeria for another three weeks.
The hours spent sitting on the plane was the only aspect of the trip I did not like. Although on our flight in, there were films to watch to keep one busy and I had brought books to read, it was disheartening to have to sit that long in just a small space. Sleep that would have been the best option chose that moment to elude me. I was looking forward to going home but not the long, arduous trip ahead.
At the airport, I had to leave the love birds discreetly alone. I might have accused Peju earlier in the day that she could be more in love with his money that who he was but watching them hugging like never to let go dispelled any doubts I had. I could see genuine love in both eyes. I might not be looking for romance for myself, but that did not mean I could not recognise a real one when I saw it.
There were tears in Peju’s eyes as she joined me where I was. My joke died on my lips when I saw how distraught she was looking. It was neither the appropriate time nor season. I looked over at Phil he was worse than Peju, the guy looked like he was ready to start howling in the airport as tears shone in his eyes. I took Peju away and hastily waved to him. It won’t be good to see a grown man crying in the airport.
I held my friend in a fierce embrace. I have done well so far and would not give in no matter how beautiful it looked when people fell in love. The heart and the drama were too much and intense for me. And somewhere along the line, the feelings cease and people fall out of love. I doubted if Peju and Phil would fall out of love. It did not look it in the few weeks I have seen them together. I was almost beginning to believe that somewhere and in someplace love could be eternal but not for me.

Omo washe Omo rishe#9

Life could be less complicated

water2

The buzz in the place went down gradually as people began to leave. I sat, people watching. My feet hurt after moving around having a word with many individuals as possible. My clients and potential leads. I had fun at the party meeting people and congratulating myself on the new leads.

My uncle fusses that the only thing I think about is my work, but that is who I am. I draw my identity from what I do. I guess that is what we all do? The thought of what my life would be without the job is one I have not given myself the torture of exploring. I choose to leverage on my age and the fact that I have more years to retirement.

Sitting with a glass of champagne in my right hand, I used the left hand to pull off my shoes and place my feet on the bare floor. I could feel relief flowing from my feet to the whole of me. Who invented shoes with heels? It was glamour and torment. A necessary evil. Similar to the different sides of a coin, both sides equally important. I was still musing over the thoughts of heels and shoes when I hear Peju’s voice.
“How many glasses of wine have you had today,” she asked as she came around to where I sat.
“No Idea. My friend has finally decided to grace me with her presence after deserting me for some guy you just met.”
“Is someone jealous?”
Trust Peju to make light something so serious.
“I think you should take it slow. Don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“It is too early to start worrying Lana. I have not said I am going out with the guy. We just met and gravitated to one another. We have so much in common, and I had an entertaining evening in between meeting his friends, business associates and talking.”

Peju moved and hugged me laughing.
“I will be okay. Please do not send your vibes of worry my way so I don’t chicken out like you,” she remarked.
“Where you afraid? was that what happened with Bode?”
I looked at Peju not only had her comment hurt she was bringing a topic that was a taboo for me.
“When do we leave?” I stifled a yawn changing the subject.
“One day, you will tell me all that happened because I have a feeling that Bode’s shadow has been hanging over you, and I fear that it might destroy any other future relationship before it starts,” she concluded boldly.
Peju has always been diplomatic when discussing Bode. Mostly saying nothing but today she threw caution to the wind.
I sipped on my champagne again.
“How many of this glasses have you taken today?” she asked again but this time worriedly taking the glass away from me.
“I told you earlier, can not recollect,” I answered irritably.
“You might as well be on the highway to drunkenness.”
“That’s a joke right,” I said more of a question than a statement.
If that’s that case, I should be staggering and voicing obscenities,” I chuckled at my lame joke.
I rarely took alcohol and whatever I had been taking the whole evening did not taste like hard liquor, not that I was an expert in wine tasting to know but I trusted my sense of smell and taste.
“Where is our manager?” Peju asked.
“Off to a family program,” I answered annoyed as to why we were having this discussion. If she was so interested in his staying why did she abandon me to keep his company? Although it was not a hard task, I could not hide the fact that I did have a lovely time.
Peju had this look on her face. I knew that look. The one of a battle to express or not express a thought.
“I saw you in one of your rare unguarded moments even though my theory could be wrong, time will tell,” she commented.
Tonight I was not interested in goading her to explain what her theory was. Perhaps tomorrow but right now I needed a bed.
“Are we set to leave?” I asked.
“Yes, all set. Shall we?”

As we walked towards Peju’s car, I asked her if I should be organising a wedding.
“That would be too late I think a baby dedication is more like it,” Peju laughed.
“You’re beginning to sound like your uncle,” she teased.
“You are in a hurry to get me out of your life but sorry girlfriend you’ll be seeing me around for a long time, not a relationship is significant enough to keep me away.
I hoped so. I desperately hoped so, but I also knew the dynamics of our relationship was set to change. Peju thought she leant on me and that I was the strong one, but it was the reverse. She was active, funny and took life less serious than I did. She was the sanity I needed in my planned ordered world. The crazy and stupid stunts I pulled that made my life interesting were Peju’s and the need sometimes to shock her. She saw beneath my calm, cold exterior to the heart of me.
I dozed off as soon as soon as I got into the car. I could hardly remember the trip home or how I got out into bed.
*************
I woke up to a brightness that blinded my eyes. I groaned as I used the pillow over my head. My head was pounding like a thousand hammers clanging down on me.
“You are alright?” I could hear Peju’s voice from a distance.
“No. My head hurts,”I croaked.
I heard her walk out of the room and back again.
“Here is a glass of water and aspirin. It will help,” she said as she sat on the bed helping me up.
“I am going to church and won’t be back immediately. I am having lunch with Phil. There is food in the fridge all you need is to microwave it.”
The banging in my head won’t stop. I was overwhelmed with pain and could not comment on this new piece of information.
I laid back in bed willing with all my might for the pain to go or for some sleep which had eluded me.
“Is this what a hangover felt like?” I asked no one in particular. The conversation was taking place in my head.
I vowed never to trust the judgement of my sense of smell and taste on alcohol as I tried to recall how many of glasses of wine I drank. Was there any warning signs that I had taken more than enough?

I staggered up aghast; the pain in my head all but was forgotten.
“I had agreed to go out dinner at some place with My Boss. What was I thinking?
It was harmless, a part of me argued.
But I did not want to subject myself to office gossip. People would read meanings into it.
I should have refused the other part of me chastised.
I must have been drunk to have agreed to that. The sensible thing to have done was to decline politely and agree never to bring up the issue of name calling again or agreed to a truce since he was now a better person as a result.

Oh, what is wrong with me? I was alert the whole time. My senses were working fine except my taste buds and sense of smell.
The entire event of last night flooded back. I grimaced ashamed of my behaviour. I must be losing it.
How was I supposed to face the boss tomorrow at work?
Why did he not say something to alert me I was out of my element?
I had this battle going on in my head as I planned my redemption act of which there was no clear-cut plan till sleep took over my tired eyelids.

Whatever strategy I had devised on Sunday was of no use as my Boss was out of office the most of the week for meetings with the management. He was back to work mid-day Friday, about the time I was getting excited of the inevitable cancelling of the dinner.
I realised I was typing and re-typing my reports. I seemed to be making mistakes and was not going ahead on it. That the deadline was in an hours’ time did not help me. I could not put my thoughts together.
The phone on my desk rang.
“Consumer Sales Lana,” I chimed with the usual enthusiasm we used on the phone.
“Hello Lana,” came the deep baritone voice from the other end.
It was my Boss.
For some seconds, I was blank on what to say
“Are you there,” he asked.
“Are you busy at the moment? I could call back,” he offered.
By now I have wrapped the cord around my fingers nervous, and my colleagues were staring at me.
“It is a report I am working on, and I am having a little issue with the tables. I have less than 45 minutes to send it in.
“Send the report to my box, let me see if I could help,” he said and dropped the phone.
My plan was getting messed up by the minute. My beautiful speech of how I would be unable to go was all dissolving into the thin air.
“You okay?” Chika one of my colleagues asked.
“Yes,” I snapped.
I apologised to her immediately. She was being concerned, and here I was taking my frustration out on her.
I fumbled with the report adjusting the tables, but the result was not as expected.
Twenty minutes later, Andrew called back to check what he sent.
I went over the report and what I had been having issues with was resolved.
“Thank you,” I said effusively.
“I get my thanks at our outing this evening.”
“I hope you have not forgotten,” he said, and there was a pause at the other end like he half expected me to back out.
“No,” I smiled falsely into the phone notwithstanding that he could not see my face.
I asked for the venue which he declined on the premise that it was a surprise. How do I say I did not want to leave the office with him?
“I brought my car and would like to drive back home without having to come back this way to pick my car,” I explained which seemed like a good reason.
“You could drive behind me,” he said thoughtfully.
The outing was a bad idea. I worried what to say if I would relax and enjoy the meal, what my colleagues would think. The last thing I needed on my plate now was rumours of an office romance that did not exist.

At the close of work, Peju was off with “see you tomorrow.” Phil has been picking her from work since the beginning of the week. Whatever was going on looked intense, and while I was happy for my friend, I was also worried about if it did not work out. From my discussion with Phil before the party, I know he would be back in Dubai next week. He was not through with the project they are working on there.

We drove downtown into an area that was not familiar. I was getting paranoid after a while if I was safe as we turned into a white bungalow well hidden by the trees surrounding the driveway. It was surprising that there were still areas in the town with vegetation as against the bricks and concrete all over the place.

I switched off the engine of the car and took a deep breath. I was startled when I opened my eyes, and he was already by the door to help me open.
“What’s this place?” I asked looking around appreciatively. The outside was breath taking. The lawn neatly cut with shrubs designed to read the word “welcome”e and in the middle an outdoor fountain statue of a Bronze woman pouring out water with a calabash held by her neck and the water forming a puddle at her feet.

I went to look at the figurine closely. I doubted if anyone noticed the expression on the face of the woman but I could see someone who did what she had to do without deriving any joy from it as she put up a front of what people wanted to see. You could gaze at her and envy her look of perfection and purpose, but there was the hidden sadness in her eyes. Did she think herself helpless or was she clueless how to make her life better than that which society thrust on her? Who was she? A maidservant? A royal posing for a painting? The folds of her cloth depicted luxury may be silk which could only be worn by someone of class.
“She’s beautiful, but her eyes have sadness in them,” I said to Andrew referring to the statue.
“If you can’t leave her, then wait till you go in, and I must warn you ahead you might not want to leave this place.This way,” he gestured.
“You are about to enter a different world you have not experienced before,” he raved with a cocky grin.
“You think so?” I challenged all trepidation gone.
Andrew could not have been more right, and it was magnanimous of him not to gloat over it.
I was taken aback at the beauty and display of wealth.
It was a restaurant but designed as intimate mini lounges. There was a bar, and a life band was playing soft, soothing music.

“We could eat here, outdoor or upstairs,” Andrew said.

I looked upstairs, and I was mesmerised. The massive chandeliers cast a million drops of light below. I could imagine how it would look up there. Like a kid, I requested to go and see.

Upstairs was breathtaking. There were a mini pool and a fountain with the seats arranged around. The water had lights under it and some sea creatures that were not real jumping in and out of the water.
I settled for downstairs. We got a seat by the window which allowed us to see the beauty outside. In spite of the fact that it was night, the whole outdoor was lighted up.
I fell in love with that place and promised to come back here alone if Peju would not come.
As soon as we settled in our seats, a bottle of wine was brought including the menu list.
They had both traditional and continental dishes. We opted for traditional. I was sceptical but ventured for the fried plantain with pepper sauce and grilled fish while Andrew opted for a rice recipe called “Masa” with vegetables and steak meat. For drinks, we had pure mixed fruit juice of oranges, lemon, mango and pineapple.

“I would not be touching that,” I blurted out rather too quickly. I could not forget Saturday in a hurry.
“It is nonalcoholic,” he said reading my mind.
“I’ll let that pass I don’t seem to be a good judge of alcohol.”
“I promise it’s not like the one you had at that party.”
I looked at him suspiciously.
“What do you know about that?”
“You secret safe with me,” he said laughing.
“You knew?” I accused.
“I picked you from Peju’s car. You were stone dead asleep.”
I covered my face in mock shame.
“You did not.”
“I did.”
“You did not.”
“I did.”
We went on like two little children.
“I did not if that is what you want to believe I am game,” he shrugged.
“I can’t believe it.”

Andrew narrated how he called my phone to be sure Peju and I had arrived home. Peju picked the call that we were home, but she was having a challenge getting me inside because I was dead asleep.She could neither carry nor drag me.
Luckily he was two blocks away from Peju’s place, and he drove by to help her take me in.
I was going to skin Peju alive for keeping that part away from me.

Our meal came in no time. Hot and sizzling.
“Do you want to try this?” he asked.
I looked over at Andrew’s.
“I’ll stick to what I know.”
The meal was tasty, and every bite was rewarding.
I never knew a simple meal like the one I was having could taste so heavenly.
I caught Andrew looking at me too often during the meal
“What?” I asked laughing.
“The way you keep staring at me I’m wondering if you want my meal.”
“I can see you love the meal.”
“Absolutely. If this is what it takes to call you names I should be looking for more terrible names,” I teased him.
I liked the way his eyebrows went up with a hint of confusion when he seemed lost for words.
“You won’t be getting this I promise. I should consider a Buka the next time.”
“You would not dare?” I challenged him.
“You want to bet?”
“I won’t go with you, and you can’t make me.”
“I could tie you up and haul you there,” he joked.
“I will sue you for kidnap and harassment,” I said vehemently.
“In our dear Naija, the case will go on and on, and you would probably be seventy before any judge decides on the case.”
Sadly, that was the truth. Take a case to court and you could be there for several years. It would have been nice if you did get an honest and untampered judgement.
“I would not be doing that,” Andrew said seriously.
“Don’t call me any more names but we could do this in Paris next month.”
He said it so casually like he was talking about going to the next street.
“Is that another outing sir?” I asked.
“Why do you mention, sir, whenever I ask to take you somewhere?”
“You are my boss,” I said stubbornly.
“Yes I am your boss, but we don’t use that in the office anymore remember,” he said smiling
He was not taking the bait. Paris is he joking or crazy.
The guy was scaring the wits out of me, and he just sits there so relaxed.

“But Paris? Why would you take a colleague to Paris?
I am going and did not think it out of place to ask you. We did invite our friends on such trips when I was growing up.
“Where I come from, we do not hop on a plane and jet off out of town with colleagues or friends,” I said.
I was getting angry with him and myself.
What gave him the right to think he had the liberty to ask me to Paris?
Did I look like those hungry, greedy social climbers?
“I want to go home it is getting rather late” I announced.
The waiter brought the bill. He paid, and we left.

I got into my car.
“Thank you for a fantastic night,” he said to me.
“I am sorry I mentioned Paris. It was not to insult you. I wanted to give you another experience that would light up your eyes the way it did tonight.”
“You remember that statue when we came in, you recognised those eyes because that’s the same look in your eyes. I would like to see the girl I saw today unguarded and free.”
I wanted to throw myself at him and cry. I had not been able to cry since it happened. Here was someone who did not know me or my story but read through me. I was weary, but I had to keep holding on. Instead, all I did was to thank him for an excellent evening rev my car and drive away into the night.

Buka – A makeshift roadside restaurant specialised in affordable traditional meals

Omo washe Omo rishe#8

Work hard party hard

Wine cups

Parties could be fun for some people but for others like Andrew Akande, who considered it a chore. It could be boring and a waste of time when compared to the many other activities he could have invested in productively. He was on his way to a party for the wife of Chief Idowu, one of the department’s top client.

Although he had another family engagement scheduled for the same time, a short appearance was better than non-attendance which could be termed rude. However, it was one account they could not afford to lose, and if being at the party was what was needed, he doubted it would not cost him much to attend.

Ever since the account and other series of linked accounts came into his books, his portfolio had moved from average to a high performing. The monthly meetings that were once the worst time of the month became something to look forward to with excitement.His career looked great and the few times he had doubts about taking the role and not going to work at his father’s company were over.He was in the right place at the right time. It was a great feeling when all your team were pulling their weight and not just you alone.

A while ago, he had made every staff go through the report profitability preparation. But for reasons he could not explain, he found himself calling on Lana frequently. The girl was good at her job, too good that he knew someone else in his shoes would feel threatened. But he was on a mission to groom his team to be managers who could make and take decisions responsibly.

Taking Lana to the management profitably meeting and her excellent presentation was an indication that his hard work was not in vain. Currently moving on to another staff he saw management potential, starting the grooming process was something they never liked but knowing somewhere down their career line they would thank him for the opportunity and training he’d given them.

He got into his Prado Jeep dressed in a black suit with a tuxedo. The white ruffled shirt was the closest he could get to the 1950’s vintage look thanks to his friend he runs a male wear boutique “Suit Place.” He would never have been able to pull the look.

Driving into the Saturday night traffic, he headed towards Lekki, an upscale neighbourhood on the island where the event was taking place. He slotted in Philip Craige and Dean’s worship collection enjoying the uplifting music as his thoughts wandered.

It’s been weeks after the profitability management weekend retreat.He chuckled when he remembered the look on her face at being found out the name she used behind his back. At the retreat, he had tried to call her phone but discovered she left it behind on their table. And there was the phone ringing with flashlights as she had placed it on silent mode in front of him with the name “Buffalo,” like one in a trance, he picked the phone and redialed the number again to be sure nut there was the name. Alas! It was not a mistake.

The whole incident was both incredibly amusing and humbling. Why that animal? What did he have in common with a buffalo? How did she come to that conclusion? He did not fool himself to believe he was the friendliest boss. But being a young one and did not want to be taken for granted, he built an exterior that required them to jump at every command, and give in to his orders and requests without any form of resistance or argument. He created an atmosphere of fear that demanded obedience. He knew it was not the best, but it was achieving the desired results. Other than their names he had no clue to who his colleagues were.

Seeing the name that day, gave him a lot to think about over the weekend. In addition to what he already knew about how dangerous a buffalo is, he found out on Wikipedia; the adult buffalo’s horns are its characteristic feature, and they have fused bases, forming a continuous bone shield referred to as “boss.”

The whole incident made him reconsider his managerial style and worked on a better way of relating to his team members without losing his self-respect.On the contrary, the change brought better output on staff performance and a deep respect that was genuine and not out of fear. There were more smiles and happy faces. He knew about them beyond the job, and the information helped in relating to them and their work.

Also, he now had a smile on his face coming to work knowing that he had a great team working for him and the department interest. Whenever he called for staff, he found three or more others offering to help out, none shrinking from taking challenging tasks or giving excuses.He could not have been more thankful to Lana for opening his eyes to a self-evaluation. He wondered what she had saved on her phone now hoping it wouldn’t be Buffalo.

Walking into the venue, Andrew scanned looking for an empty table, but He saw someone waving him to come over. He wasn’t sure who she was although there was a slight resemblance to Peju. He walked to the table and once he heard the voice he knew it was Peju Phillips and the other lady was Lana.

Andrew smiled as he said hello still confused why they were looking different but horribly lovely at that too. He tore his gaze from Peju to Lana and in an instant lost his breath. It was like a mighty had knocked him over. It was like he was seeing her for the first time. He knew Lana was pretty all the ladies at work outdid themselves which was normal but today, he could not recall seeing anyone this beautiful. She was a goddess. Everything about her was perfect.

“What drink would you like a drink?” he was brought out of his reverie when a waiter asked him.“Champagne will do. Thank you”. He picked the glass offered to him.Lana smiled at him and continued reading a message on her cell phone. An odd frown settled on her lovely face. He wondered what was so upsetting and if there was anything he could do to help out. Where that come from he asked himself. He must have gotten it bad. This looks must be doing crazy things to his brains.

“You look good ladies.” He complimented their looks.They both said Thank you. Peju conversed with him while Lana was still busy with her cell phone.

“I might need to take that from you.” He heard Peju say to her.

“It’s my uncle. He’s here and wants me to come over to their table because he wants to introduce me to some friends of his,” Lana replied not too happy.

“Go and see him rather than scowling into that phone,” Peju commanded.

“The friends of his he is referring to are prospective suitors. It is annoying how he seems to keep looking for one for me,” she hissed the words at Peju.

Andrew found her funny and chuckled which turned to a cough when she glared at him. He then offered to help.

“I could help you. He might lay low tonight when she sees you came with someone,” he meekly offered. How do ladies do that making a fully able bodied 6 foot three inches guy with six packs, cower in fear with just a glare?

Her eyes lit up. “You’ll do that?”

I nodded in affirmative.

“Let’s go. You have no idea how relieved I am,” she stated as she held my hands and dragged me along like an excited five-year-old.

We stood up and left to meet her uncle. And true to her words she had not exaggerated. There were two young men in their mid-thirties with him.

“Lana dear, you have to meet Deji Adesanmi and Peter Okon, they are partners at Dataflex, an IT company. Incredible young men, who are great at what they do, the only snag I say to them is that they are yet to have accounts with Maple Bank. Any business that matters in this city must bank with Maple Bank,” He laughed at his joke while Lana was forced to say some niceties to the young men and exchanged complimentary cards. I noticed how she cringed at her uncle’s introduction but quick not to miss the cue to take on a lead, a real sales person.

Her uncle had relaxed a bit when I mentioned being her boss at work, but that did not deter him from asking about my marital status and if I was interested in his niece. I almost sputtered out my drink, too shocked at his brashness to give a corrigible response.

“Take it easy on her. She is dealing with issues she is not even aware plagues her. I should not be discussing this with you but I like you, and my guts say you can be trusted,” he continued oblivious to my discomfort.

“Your niece is great at what she does. Her work is excellent. You need not worry she is capable of caring for herself,” I managed to blurt how considering my brain had decided to take a recess and leave me groping for words while I looked for an escape route.

“I hear that a lot,” he said drily.

“I brought her here to meet these young men as she hardly has time for her social life with the job” but see, he gestured towards her.

“All she does is networking and generating leads. She thinks only about her work. I should be worried because work does not put a family around you, work does not give you children work will not be around you when you are sick and lonely. Work is an aspect of your life, not all of it. Work does not remember you when you die, the family does. The passion she pursues the job at the price of her personal life is what gives me concern,” he finished, and I could feel the ache in his heart.

I had no words to either comfort or encourage him so I took a sip of my drink to fill in for the silence.

The moment I saw a familiar face, I used that as an excuse to escape back to my table leaving Lana with the guys. She did not appear to need help rather she looked more than capable exactly what I had told her uncle.

Back at my table, my eyes wandered to Lana and saw her talking to her uncle. Whatever it was I could see that she was furious.

I did not wish my enemy to be in the man’s shoes.

My opinion was he should leave his niece to navigate the waters of her life and relationships and not meddle in her affairs. She was not a child. She was an adult.

I went over our discussion. “He could trust me” that was some heavy burden placed on me. I was not sure I could trust myself

Lana came back and apologised profusely to me. You could tell she was embarrassed.

“Do you see what I meant with those his friends?”

“What did he say to you?” she asked changing the topic.

“Nothing just work,” I lied casually and cringed inside of me.

“He did not go on and on of how they needed to get me married like marriage was the freedom to live?”

“You wanted him to?” I threw back at her not wanting to keep lying.

“He must be growing old,” she grinned.

“Tell me does your uncle have children of his own and is he married?” I could not hold my curiosity.

“Now you sound like him,” she stated at a matter of fact.”Yes, he is married to a gorgeous lady, my cousins and I love dearly. She is our only aunt who looks like what we want to be. Classy, elegant, career driven, romantic and modern,” she counted on her fingers.

“Yes, he is married to a gorgeous lady, my cousins and I love dearly. She is our only aunt who looks like what we want to be. Classy, elegant, career driven, romantic and modern,” she counted on her fingers.

“Some qualities that is,” I commented amusedly.

How many children do they have together?

“None. They have done everything including In vitro fertilisation (IVF), but none has been successful. The good thing is they are happy and more in love than the others who have kids,” Lana spoke with an expression mirroring the pain and love.

“What about adoption?” I ventured to ask. In Africa, it used to be a taboo. Adoption is still a very tricky issue and not widely accepted as in the western world. An average African woman wants to bear her children and sees adoption as a stamp of failure rather than an opportunity to be the mother she longs to be.

“I don’t know what their decision is on that, but most of what I know are filters from conversations at family events.”

“It must be hard for them,” I said remembering the ache in his heart when he spoke about family.

“I imagine, but I am the unfortunate niece, the daughter he never had not that I am complaining, but he clucks around me like a mother hen. He has been at every event of my life, birthdays, visiting days at boarding school seizing every opportunity check me at the University. Graduation. His next goal is to get me married. It becomes a torture. I cannot introduce anyone to him without him thinking I am ready to make him a grand uncle. He is so much worse than my Dad,” Lana moaned at what others would give an arm to have a doting uncle.

“It is evident he loves you,”

“That is the only reason I take it easy on him,” she answered

“You mean what I saw was easy?” I feigned horror.

She laughed and shrugged. “Whatever.”

We settled to the served meal of Jollof rice with coleslaw, beans pudding popularly called Moin Moin and peppered chicken. There was also goat meat pepper soup.

“Drew I am very sorry I never got to apologise to you about the name issue.”

“Are we not done with that, I asked? It seemed some form of punishment would be needed to absolve her of this sin.

“I feel terrible about it. That was low of me,” she argued.

“It’s okay. I forgive you, but if you want your guilt assuaged why not have dinner with me on Friday after work?” What was that? I had never given it a thought, but it was out, and a favourable reply mattered to me.

“That’s an easy way to let me off the hook,” she teased.

“Should I be thinking of a more grievous penalty?”

“No – I am game with this one,” she retorted playfully.

“Any favourites?” I asked.

“No, any place you choose is okay,” she answered with indifference. What was I expecting that she would jump over the moon? Well, others might make a big deal to be on chum with the boss, but I could see with Lana that was not the case.

After the meal, Lana caught sight of someone, waiving she rose up to leave.

“There is Phil Idowu, the MD for Oil and Gas Limited, Let me go and say hello.”

“I’ll go with you,” I offered.

As we moved towards Phil, we met Peju on the way, and Lana pulled her telling her we were going to meet the MD Ideal Oil and Gas.

“You have not met him?” I asked surprised.

“No, never met him before,” she replied.

“Don’t you guys manage his accounts?” I asked perplexed.

“They are not the same. I handle Chief like you know and Lana, Ideal Oil and Gas. They are both independent of each other,” Peju explained.

Lana introduced both Peju and me to Phil.

Once he laid eyes on Peju, it was evident the guy was smitten. Phil’s attention was on her.

The girls and I stayed to chat a bit and could not ignore the way his eyes kept going back to Peju.

“We’ll leave you to your guest,” I said excusing my team and me.

“I’ll see you before you leave, he responded more to Peju than the rest of us.

Walking ahead of the girls, I could hear Lana asking her friend what happened there.

“I literally could feel the sparks between you both,” she commented although a whisper but was not lost to my ears.

We got back to our tables, and the girls continued as if I wasn’t there.

“Spill what happened there?” Lana commanded using her chin to point to the direction we just left.

“You two met before,” She went on interrogating her friend.

I watched on fascinated at the way they interacted. I did not know too much about women. It was just my younger sister and me who was a tomboy. Growing up she wanted to do anything and everything I did and better; from climbing trees, playing football to cycling. The moment you said activity was girly she backed up she wanted to do only the boys stuff and brag to me about it later. It continued into our teenage-hood. As we approached adulthood, she gradually dropped a lot but still punches me on the arm as a greeting, challenges me to a game of chess and tries to keep up with any new sport or activity I had picked.

It flashed through my mind that these women would be good for her. She needed female friendships and not the guys that surrounded her. Many times we were so comfortable with her that we forgot she was a female.

“No never met him before,” Peju replied.

“Gosh! Why am I not the one handling Ideal Oil and Gas? How come you never talked about him?” she asked Lana accusingly.

I don’t know why but I was very interested in her response.

“He is just a client. You seemed smitten by him. I never saw him in that light,” she answered nonchalantly.

I did not know I was holding my breath and was relieved by her response, ironically but same relief mirrored in Peju’s eyes. I was not the only one.

“He is handsome,” Peju commented dreamily.

“His accounts are attractive,” Lana said drily.

“Oh Please Lana don’t be a killjoy, this could be who I have been waiting for all my life.”

“I should be calling the wedding planner by tomorrow. It is too late to do so now,” she gave a lopsided grin.

“Be serious”, Peju begged.

“I am serious. You just met the guy 5 minutes!”

Lana had not finished when Phil came over to our table and requested if he could take Peju away.

“I have lost my friend,” Lana wailed as Peju walked away blinking at her friend like some secret code.

“That is a fast conclusion,” I observed. That was what I had been doing since we came back to our table.

Lana glanced at me with shock. “Oh my God! You were here the whole time,” she exclaimed closing her face with her two hands.

Should I have been somewhere else, the thought flashed

“He seems okay. I don’t think you need to worry,” I encouraged patting her hands now placed on the table.

Glancing at my watch, “I have to go!” I exclaimed.

“I am completely late for a family engagement. Probably won’t make it but I have to try.” I explained.

“Would you be okay by yourself or would you go with me and I drop you afterwards?” I inquired as I stood up to leave.

“Oh no but thanks. I will be okay,” she waved her hands.

“You sure?” I double checked with her.

“Absolutely.”

As I walked away, I remembered to comment on her looks. She looked beautiful today.

I could see the raised eyebrows of surprise.

“Thank you sir” she stammered I mean Andrew.

“Andrew?” I inquired with raised eyebrows.

“No one called me that except my mother. While I had insisted on being called Drew, My parents stuck to the original version.”

“That’s your full name isn’t it?” She asked with a twinkle in her eyes as her left dimple was more prominent with the smile.

“I prefer calling people by their full name some abridged versions or nicknames has a way of hiding the true meaning of the name. There is so much in a name.

“Andrew is a lot better than Buffalo,” I teased.

She grimaced. “I thought you have forgiven me.”

“I have but not forgotten,” I winked.

I would tell you over dinner on Friday if you have not found out by then but now I have to run.”

“Or else Mother will be upset,” she concluded. “And thanks for making light my erred ways.

I groaned. “I have to make you promise never to bring it up again.”

“See you at work,” I said making my final exit.

It took my willpower to leave her alone that night.

Omo washe omo rishe #7

Letting my hair down…….

polka dot

It’s been three months since the profitability meeting weekend. Work has been on fast pace like a speed train. My ill position in the manager’s eyes had fallen to someone else. I found myself on one or more occasions giving the new guy a pep talk from my experience.

Isn’t it ironic that what I resented so much was the needed training for my career advancement? It was both a sense of relief and loss at the same time. A relief I no longer spent those long hours digging for information or going over a report under the watchful and critical eyes of my manager but a loss because I miss the drive and challenge those times brought being someone who never liked to fail at a project.

Our Manager, who we all now lovingly call Drew, has removed the scowl from his face and replaced with a now sickening constant smile plastered on his face like someone gone for cosmetic surgery. To be quite candid, I do love the smile but can someone have a smile on their face all the time? I shudder when I think, his might have been cosmetic surgery gone wrong. In our brainstorming session, he had insisted we conform to management’s decision on a first name basis. It had been awkward for a while, but we all got used to it with little slips here and then.

In addition to the smile is a charm and fabulous sense of humour that has resulted in a stiff completion for his attention among the ladies at the office.

The spike in their dress sense at work rivals any fashion show in Paris, New York, London or Milan and the assault of perfumes on your nostril could leave you gasping for breath. The rate he had to attend to mundane issues under the guise of wanting to be around him was hilarious. If he requested help from the staff, he had three or four ladies volunteering. I felt so sorry for him because you could see the bewildered look on his face to note that he was clueless. It was like watching one of those comedy sitcoms. But I would not trade this new guy for the old one.

Peju and I have been on different projects. We worked in the same office but did not have five minutes to say hello. We caught up sometimes during lunch hour and weekends when we were not working.

Incredible but true we were working weekends. We had no life but refused to complain, after all, that was what we signed for on our contract of employment letter. It was stated,” to work some weekends if need be,” only we were working all weekends for the past six weeks.

Our accounts with Chief Idowu and Ideal Oil and Gas Limited had grown by leaps and bounds. We were adding new accounts consistently from networking with the clients and suppliers used by his business. With the help of Phillip Idowu, Chief’s son and the links he offered my portfolio grew geometric exponentially.

He was currently out of the country overseeing a business interest of the company in Dubai. I met him once and due to his tight schedule and frequent trips we ran our meetings on the phone, phone calls, conference calling and sometimes Skype. He had given me all his numbers both in and outside the country to reach him whenever. Peju focused on Chief Idowu while I focused on Ideal Oil and Gas.

Peju found me at the canteen during lunch. She had this look of excitement on her face as she handed me an invitation card.
“Get ready to boogie. It’s Chief Idowu’s wife’s 50th birthday party, and this is our invitation,” she pointed to the card in my hands as I opened to read.
For someone who loves being by herself, I never minded parties. I love the whole dressing and meeting people, the friendly banter, jokes and laughter and the opportunity for networking.
“I am in,” I responded still reading the card.

“It is two weeks from now, and the dress theme is the 1950s,” I groaned. My high point was never in searching for clothes. Find it and give it to me to wear was more like it. I was one of those ladies that hated shopping for clothes. I checked what I wanted on the internet, where to buy and ordered online. The reason why I had stashed of unused clothes in my wardrobe; two in every five ordered did not fit. However, moving from shop to shop neither appealed to me nor was it an option. The whole idea of trying several clothes to buy one was draining.

“Dress theme?” Peju asked as she had apparently read my mind.
I nodded.
“Sorted! Done all that on the phone while coming here. Called my sister in London to help search for two 1950s vintage gown. Something affordable and classy,”

Peju’s sister is a fashion freak, who has shopped most of the clothes we both wore. We considered her our fashion consultant and offered to pay for her services despite her initial refusal. Through us and many more demands, she built a clientele and started her clothes retail store. She did understand our bodies and the look we desired. Having her sort out my clothing style and purchases was one of the best things that happened to me.

“I also called your cousin to book for our nails to be done on Friday after work and she referred a makeup artist who I called up and would be at my house on Saturday,” Peju said with a triumphant look in her eyes.
“You got all this figured out. You’re a girl’s best friend. I am beginning to sound like a broken record with, this cliche, but it is true.

“Whatever am I to do when prince charming comes calling? Shouldn’t I be the evil queen and use my magic wand to wave him out of our lives?” I asked wickedly.

My dear friend has been moaning over the last few weeks of her single state. Claiming most of her friends back home were all married.
“I never dreamt of being single at 24. At my age, I should have finished childbearing.”

“Were you hoping to get married at 16 or 18?” I asked snorting in disgust without realising it. My mother would have a fit at such unladylike display after her huge investment on etiquette and manners training at summer camps during my teenage years.

“I secretly hoped to have married at 18, finished having my kids at 24 and become a grandma at 40,”
“You’re joking right?” I asked bewildered.
“No, I am serious,” she said and I was forced to believe she meant it.
“We will have to find you a husband this month. Some potbellied old man with real money who already has three wives being the fourth would not too bad,” I said sarcastically. The only snag will be shipping you out of Lagos back to your northern region. The north part of the country was prevalent for giving out their girls in marriage at a very young age to men old enough to be their fathers.

Although some non-governmental organisations were actively fighting against this especially for those younger than eighteen, there was still much that needed to be done to eradicate the practice entirely.
Peju grew up in this kind of environment. Many times I forget that she is more from this part of the country than our south-west.

“ I am not that desperate when I said 18, it was to someone in mid-twenties to mid-thirties ready for marriage, not some old man and please note that men from that region are not potbellied like the ones down here,” she defended passionately.

“I hear,” raising my hands in a sign of mock surrender and added, “I do think you are suffering from a case of lost identity,” I retorted drily.
“You’re sold to this your northern heritage.” I shook my head sadly.

“The south-west has lost its daughter to the north. The stake to redeem you is high and why do I think it’s futile?” I wailed melodramatically.

“Stop this your drama. It will break my father’s heart to hear you. Spending all his life in the north, he considered himself a proudly southwestern man and took pride to have brought us up with those values, but I guess the environmental factor is a strong influence. He could not say a word in that language to save his life, but all his children spoke the language fluently to the detriment of their mother tongue.

As if the world wanted to confirm further my fear, a client from this region walked in. Peju rattled away in the local dialect much to my chagrin.
It was my cue to take my leave and I did.
“See you,” I muttered and escaped.

They could be plotting my demise for all I knew. Now I think I am going little overboard with the recent crime books I have been feasting on. The last one had a plot where a guy planned the demise of his friend right in front of him because he neither spoke nor understood the language.

Two weeks flew, and the party was upon us. The dresses arrived on time. Mine was a black and white 1950s vintage polka dot A-line Halter swing dress while Peju was teal butterfly vintage dress. My cousin outdid herself with our nails designed in the same fabric design as our dresses.

Sheila has done well for herself. A dream was all she had back then. She pursued her nail dream and worked hard to be where she was today. Her nail studio was among the first three in the country with two offices in Lagos. One on the Island and another on the mainland.

Her clients were across the globe. She shuttled between Africa, Europe and America. She had just returned from a fashion show in Paris where her team were responsible for the all the nails of the models.
We were lucky to get booked in just two weeks. She had clients bookings as long as three months and some cases six months. Peju and I were on her life membership which afforded us the luxury of her services at such short notice.

“We are your brand ambassadors,” Peju declared as she requested for her complimentary cards.
Sheila was quick to hand her about twenty of the cards.
“I’ll take some from her,” I offered.
“How do you cope with your clientele?” I asked Sheila amused at the way she was quick to hand over the complimentary cards even when she had more clients than she could handle.

“I get by with proper planning, organisation and a great team. I also do invest a lot in training on the skills and customer service. My business thrives on repeated services so word of mouth referrals are key for us. One dissatisfied client can cause a loss of ten other customers. I have also offered some of my team partnership, so we all see it as our business. It’s not my success it is our success. I have about twenty staff on my team a huge clientele base, but I still have not reached my goal,” she said passionately.
“To be the nail mecca of the world,” I concluded for her.

“You’ll get there. You have done so much for yourself, and I can tell you are smiling to the bank. Talking of that, I doubt if you have an account with us. Let’s fix an appointment for next week if that would work for you?” I asked not one to take no for an answer.
“No, make it Friday, a fortnight from today. I’ll be in California the whole of next week. I am part of the team working on a Hollywood film.”
I heartily congratulated her stunned.

“Two weeks it is. We’ll discuss on what e- solution we can package for you that will help your banking needs,” I promised her.
“My present bank is trying,” she offered a vote of confidence. I noted a sense of loyalty and played not to discredit her bank not that I ever did that, but I had to be careful in my sales not to belittle her bank.
“I’m sure they are. However, our solutions aid businesses. We tailor e- applications to your needs. I am certain you would have had challenges especially those periods you are out of the country,” I doggedly remarked.
“Yeah, quite some challenges but we found a way to make do.”
“Not anymore Sheila, I am so sorry it never occurred to me. We should have done this earlier.”

We exchanged hugs, planned a girls outing when she got back and left for home. It was past 10 pm. I had called home as I was crashing at Peju’s place this weekend. All effort to make my parents see reason in me moving out had fallen on deaf ears. My mum would hear nothing of it. She practically brought the roof down when I first mentioned it. She argued there was no reason to rent a house when they were in the same city as I was. I discussed with my mum that girls younger than myself were living on their own and did well with it.

My mum insisted no daughter of hers would live alone. She said young ladies living on their own were prone to promiscuity and that it was from her house to my husband’s house. I had brought the topic up time and time again, but she stood her grounds. For the sake of peace, I stayed put hoping she would see reason and change her mind.

The traffic to and from work could be crazy and on several occasions, I was forced to sleep at Peju place surprising she did not have issues with Peju and did not see her as promiscuous rather she felt Peju was the most sensible of all my friends.

Our makeup artist arrived and 4 pm. Saturday evening. I could barely recognise myself when I looked into the mirror. It was uproarious to watch me calling my name severally in a bid to convince myself I was still who I thought I was.

My everyday makeup routine was a liquid eyeliner on the top of my eyelid finished up with mascara for longer eyelashes, a neutral lipgloss and Mac liquid foundation that fitted my skin tone. Today I had been subjected to brow shaping, winged eyeliner, false lashes, contouring, highlighting and bronzing. With each application, it looked like I was gradually losing who I was. I thought of cleaning it up, but I wouldn’t dare, not all the trouble the makeup artist had gone through to achieve this look.

My dress was beautiful. I finished the look with a bright red platform peep-toe shoe, and red sequined clutch purse, the same shade of lipstick. Red was not my favourite colour but looked great on me tonight. I kept to my minimal jewellery style. White pearl ear studs with a silver wristwatch. I left my neck bare. There was no need for a necklace with the halter neck. Others might but I loved the simplicity of being bare.

I was blown away by Peju’s looks. Peju is beautiful but tonight she was a stunner. I could not have been more proud of my friend in her lovely teal butterfly vintage dress she matched with cream high heeled sandals and creamed gold sequined clutch purse. Peju was loud on her gold jewellery which did not look out of place on her; dangling gold earrings with white stones that looked like diamonds pieced with a matching necklace and bracelet.

She had her black hair extension in glorious curls that cascaded down her shoulder. Her big almond shaped eyes were now prominent with the black eyeliner and mascara used against her fair skin tone. A faint red blush was visible on her cheeks and finished with dark red on her lips.

I had long stopped insisting that Peju checked her family line for traces of Caucasian blood as she could be passed for a half-caste although she claimed she was purely African.

In her usual fashion, Peju was going on about how I looked and how bad it was a party most likely full of people in their fifties and sixties and sad, we probably would not see people our age there.

“We could stay at home?” I suggested mischievously.
“Not on your life?” she threatened.
“After all this,” She gestured at our false selves.
We waited for the makeup artist to get her things together, locked up and Peju drove to the venue.

It was quite unusual to find the hall almost filled up when we arrived at 6.55pm. Scanning the room, we located Chief Idowu and his wife standing in a corner with other people as we wove our way through the crowd to exchange pleasantries and give the celebrant our good wishes.

Mrs Idowu did not look a day older than thirty – eight. It was hard to believe she was fifty. I hope that at forty years, I would look half as good as she did today. She was tall, graceful and elegant in her appearance and manner. She had a soft-spoken voice with a faint trace of a British accent and a warm smile that was both in her eyes and on her lips. There was this aura of serenity around her. In an instant, I longed to be held in her embrace and heard this loud voice in my head. “This woman is at peace with herself and the world, and I wanted that.”

As I held her hand, a weird thing happened, there was this connection in our eyes like she could see my soul. She drew me into a warm hug and said: ” I would love to see you again.”

Deja Vu you call it, I did not care, but I knew I wanted to meet this woman again. I wanted what she had. It was not material it was something on the inside of her.

We found our way back and picked the first available table we saw.
It was party time, and I could already tell it was going to be more fun than I thought. These older people don’t want to be outdone by us the younger ones. They sure came prepared.

The women were turning up in incredible dresses, but I had to give it to the men, how do they stay so young and more good looking as they grew older without much effort like their counterparts- the women?
From makeup to botox and cosmetic surgery, girdles, dieting, slimming herbs, going to the gym, yoga and pilates. I hope I find out the men’s secret to youthfulness before getting to this age so I could use it.

Omo washe Omo rishe #5

A girl’s best friend 2

I am back at my desk typing away the report on our just concluded visit to Chief Idowu. I highlight recommendation on business possibilities using the strength, weakness, threat and opportunities analysis for a compelling argument for the potential and viability of this new client.

I had to research on his associates and business dealings with both the private and public sector, locally and internationally and every information I could find linked to him. While working on this report, I realised how large his business was and his dealings across the different sectors of the economy. I built a client network chain and knew if we worked on this relationships well, we would be smiling more at the office.

Time must have flown because the next time I looked at my watch, lunch time had passed. Lana was not back then. She probably would be closing from the Managers office. This evening would not be a nice one. I was no prophet but could predict her reaction.

I settled back to work while I took out a Lucozade sports drink from my bag, that should keep me till the close of work and if Lana was a good spot we could hang out tonight at one of the Chinese restaurants to celebrate this new deal of ours. Thinking of that an idea just popped into my head, okay maybe it was a bribe, but It was my ticket to Chinese tonight and perhaps a movie on a Monday night. I started on Lana’s report since Chief Idowu was the same source I copied and pasted mine but focused on the subsidiary.

It was surprising to know that Chief Idowu’s son owned the subsidiary. He had the majority shares in the company with Chief having just 15%. I looked at the documents signed by his son. That was quite confusing considering that we had dealt exclusively with Chief. Getting a bit apprehensive, I cross checked the signatures on the documents for chief and that of Ideal Oil and Gas Limited. I was not aware how I held my breath because if they were the same and Chief signed for his son, then this account would not go through till we had the appropriate signature.

Thankfully, they were different. I then recalled Chief sending the documents out to his secretary, perhaps that was when they got his son to sign. As little as that oversight could stop the opening and operation of the account with the bank. The control put in place by the bank to ensure compliance with the central bank regulations was 100% as noncompliance could result in a fine massive enough to wipe out whatever profit such business would have yielded for the bank.

I underestimated what I got myself into by helping Lana with her report. There were twenty other companies with subsidiaries linked to Ideal Oil and Gas Limited. It took me a little less than three hours to do mine, but here I was, still battling with it after 7 pm when Lana came down from the Manager’s office.

Lana came down smiling contrary to my prediction. I was confused and did a little drama by touching her forehead to be sure she was not running a temperature.

“Are you okay?” I asked worriedly. The usual was to come back throwing tantrums and saying words not worthy to be repeated about her time in that office.

“Why do you ask?”

She had a twinkle in her eyes. I really could not think what must have happened in that office for her to be this excited but it had better be good.

“Girlfriend, you that I know would have barged in here all upset”.

“Oh, how terrible I have become” she had some melancholy in her voice.

“Our manager brings out my worst, and I must be ashamed at my behaviour time and time again. I just figured out today that the more I got upset, the longer I spent in that office and the higher the probability of being called back. He seemed to find every unimaginable report to get ready.Today was the worst of it all. I had to keep going into the computer system to look for figures and information and work on all sorts of reports. I, Lana prepared the profitability management report today and in the midst of a terrible situation, I learnt something valuable to my career.”

“It still does not account for your cheerful disposition.”

“What you can’t change you adapt. I am trying to see the silver lining in my current predicament.”

“Thank God he is easy to look on the eyes otherwise, it would have been more of a nightmare.”

It was not news to any of us in the office. The manager was a handsome young son of a wealthy business mogul who was a bosom friend of the Managing Director of the Bank. He studied Economics at London School of Economics and a Master’s degree in Business Administration from Harvard. He was offered the opportunity to work in the bank and took it rather than taking the next in line at his father’s company. Others from outside did consider him a good catch but in here, we were not able to see beyond his scowl and in a way that must have kept most of the ladies in check.

I stood up and held Lana at arm’s length. I touched her head again. Surely she had to be running a temperature.

She shrugged and sat on her desk.
“Now is the time to start my bit.”
“I am speechless. I don’t get this new you, and it is freaking me out.”
“You should be happy, imagine all my whining grating your ears.”
“I would love that and not be thinking we might have to wind up at the psychiatric hospital tonight as this is so not you.”
“I got a headache right now, and I still have the Ideal Oil and Gas report to finish”, Lana said using her fingers to massage her temple.
“I would be leaving here 10 pm or 11 pm. Almost midnight. I might have to crash at your place tonight. Too late to go home. I have to call my Mum.”
“I already did that. Called your Mum and finished your report.”
I see the amazement on Lana’s face with eyes opened wide. I push the file towards her.
“It’s all in there printed. I can forward the soft copy to you.”

She scanned the file and boy did I see it coming?
It was just some few drops of tears cascading down her face, and I honestly thought it was a joke until she had her head over the desk and howling like a baby. They were heart racking sobs as her body shook. I was not sure anymore what the issue was, but one thing I knew for sure was we both needed food.

In one moment she had gone from crazy to emotional.
I shut down both our computers, picked our bags and practically dragged her out as the sobbing subsided.
The office looked deserted. We were the only ones left with the night shift security personnel outside and the Manager upstairs.
I could deal with Lana and her smiles, her jokes and crazy outbursts but an emotional not together Lana – I was at my loose end.

We got into my car, and I waited so she could pull herself together and drove to one of our favourite Chinese restaurant on the Island.
You could all think I am crazy but food might help, and I was not going to pass up our need to celebrate our career breakthrough which was only this morning but looked like a lifetime away considering all that had happened since then.

I drove into the parking lot in front of the restaurant.
“Food will do us some good at this point. I doubt if you have eaten anything today.” I said to her observing her face.
She had stopped crying and was just sniffing. I pulled a Kleenex from the pack on the dashboard and handed it over to her to clean her face.
“You might want to redo your makeup. The light will come on if you use the mirror by your side.”
“I will be okay.”
“Great! Let’s go. We can talk over the meal if you want to.”

We stepped in and looked for a table of two at the downstairs lobby. There was none available so we went upstairs and settled for one on the far left wing of the room overlooking a window.
Once we sat down a waiter came with the menu. I chose Chinese fried rice with chilli prawn sauce, spring rolls and a glass of Chapman for starters. Lana ordered for same but opted for noodles instead of rice.

We were given a hot napkin to wipe our hands followed by our glass of Chapman and spring rolls.

The meal took about twenty minutes which was the norm here as they prepared on order with the finest of herbs and spices. The catch here for me was the fact that I could get the sauces in the hottest of spices close to that of our local hot dish. When you wanted a good Chinese meal on the island with a quiet ambience, this was one of the places to come.
I discovered the restaurant by accident. On a particular day, I lost my way and found myself on Karimu Kotun street. I did the unlikely, I drove in and had a meal. Then continued finding my way home.

“So?” a single word meaning,”what is the story? spill it all out.”
Sipping her drink she smiled.

“Back at that office, with the way I was used by the manager today, I felt like killing him. He is this wicked taskmaster that keeps gruelling you with so much work and without a break.”

“It can’t be that bad,” I offered.

“I was standing more than sitting down in the hours I was spent in his office with this 4-inch shoes I am wearing. First, it was my report he found fault with every word there. Correcting my tenses and advising on what synonyms to use, then he checked every figure in the report to ascertain its accuracy. That task alone took almost two hours. As soon as we finished that, we started on the management report that he was going to teach me and going forward I would be in charge of it.”

“The guy is training you for management.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“No one. It’s not a side thing. I am just objective. Our manager is no saint in his leadership style, but he seems to have a knack for teaching us all he knows which is a good thing. The problem is you appear to be the one he is teaching the most which should tell you something about your career here.”

“Thankfully, we agree his leadership style is flawed, but all these teachings are to the detriment of my work output. I f you had not helped with the report, I would be behind schedule today. Realising all you did to help out just made me emotional. I am angry at him, myself and the whole situation. What would I do without you? How did I get so lucky to have you in my life and at my workplace? I probably would still be back there working on the report, but here I am, dining away.
I should feel guilty about it, but I am not because you have made it easy to accept your help. You even knew ahead to call my mum”.

I raise my hands in mock surrender.

“Please cut out this emotional talk, Lana. It’s something you would have done for me.”
“You think so?”
I don’t Peju. I would have started the report but not finish it in the record time you did. You are a girl’s best friend.”

“Lana, don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

I do not take too well with being praised.

“I did what I have to do, and that was it.”

Our hot steamy meal came, and my belly betrayed me with a loud rumbling.

“Thank God the meal is here!” I exclaimed a little embarrassed.

“You must be famished. Did you eat lunch?” she looked at me accusingly. I have a history for skipping meals.

“No, I took a bottle of Lucozade sport hoping it did what they said it would do. I needed water in my system.”

“What about you?”

She looked at me guiltily. “I ate pounded yam and egusi soup with goat meat.”

“In that office, you were slaving away?” I mimicked her.

“The manager ordered for it and asked if I wanted. The least I could do for myself was spend his money although that wouldn’t have left a dent in his account like what this meal would do to ours.”

“Lana please relax, this meal would not make you bankrupt. It is not up to the cost of that your perfume you order from Paris. I would research how much that perfume cost in Naira including home delivery.

“Okay” holding her fork in her left hand she is waving at me.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I sure wouldn’t if you keep pointing that fork at me considering the fact you desperately wanted to kill someone earlier today.”
“What about the part of how easy on the eyes the Manager is”
She laughed. “I was almost bursting out with laughter with the look on your face when I said that.”
“But seriously do I sense someone falling for the Manager.”
“Not on your life,” she frowns.
“What’s so bad about it? He is young, not married good looking and from a wealthy home.”
“I do not do office romance.”
“How do you know what you don’t do? There has been no one apart from Bode, and that was three years ago.”

The name slipped out. We had agreed never to talk about him.
“Wow! Where did that come from I don’t know what happened and I don’t care to know, but it is about time you move back to him or move on. Give yourself the luxury of having a relationship.”

I could as well have been talking to myself. Lana went about her meal like she had not heard a word I said. She always did that “switch off” thing.
“You don’t want to talk?” I goaded her.
“I want to but not about Bode.”
“Not Bode but is there any hope for some guy out there in the future?”
“Let’s say I am not looking for any relationship. I just want to build my career.”

I dropped my cutlery with a clanging noise loud enough for everyone in that hall to hear.I looked around apart from a large group at the end.We were alone.

“Your career is what you are doing now. With the inflow you had today and those subsidiaries and links that the company has, you will be making senior manager in less than five years if you get promoted every year. However, I am not discussing your career as you have that mapped out. There is life after your career. A life that would always be even at the end of a career.”

“Why do you think you can’t have both?”
“I just know it. I can’t explain, but I would not be this driven with kids and all. In school while others were chasing boys and parties I was all my books and novels. I think it’s the same. You get distracted and lose focus before you realise it you have missed all that you have struggled to attain. For what Peju. A marriage others are dying to get out. I am okay where I am and seek for none of that.”

I nodded my head like I understood. I did not. We were both in our mid-twenties. While others like me dreamt of getting married and settling down to have a family. Lana could not be bothered. I was worried, but I hoped I need not be.

We had barely finished our meal when the waiter came back with a bottle of Moet Champagne and two wine glasses. I looked at the waiter and Lana.

“Did you order for this?”

Lana has been behaving weird which she just explained, but this champagne bit is sending red lights that there might be more problem than she is letting on.

“It is complimentary Madam. It is an order for you by a gentleman. He pointed to the group of people at the end. There were about seven of them all dressed up in corporate wears. They must be here for a business dinner. I scanned some of the faces I could see but none was familiar, and none was looking at our table.
“Please take it back to him. No thank you”, I was upset.
“It is complimentary Peju. Read the card and do so smiling. He is most likely watching you.”
Lana was back in her element. Her eyes were twinkling. The girl was both a jewel and pain.
Against my better judgement, I picked the card smiling.

It was a blank card with the words “enjoy your meal written on it. No name.
So I smile like a robot and Lana says to the waiter
“Thank the gentleman for us. It was most kind of him, but we can’t accept.”
“This is the time to escape Peju. If we are fast enough, he won’t catch up with us, and if he does, please let us be on our best behaviour he might be a prospective client.”
“Oh my God,” I close my eyes trying to process what Lana has just said.
“We are here, and all you are thinking is a lead? Do you do anything else other than thinking about clients and leads? I am also in this profession you know.”
“This is Lagos, make use of all opportunities.”

I placed the cash in the receipt folder with extra change for the waiter.
We picked up our bags and headed out. All I wanted to do was run but we walked rather majestically.
Fortunately, no one tried to follow us or meet us downstairs.
I broke into a run towards my car and drove straight home. The idea of going to the cinema abandoned. I will watch a movie at home. Lana was staying over at my house. She has some few suits and her toiletries at my place for days like this.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

Image from Goggle.

Omo washe omo rishe #3

I choose my career 2

office-lady
After a long night, I stood up to leave. I jokingly said if we were not careful we might check the time and realise it’s the morning of the next day. Indeed glancing at my watch, it’s already midnight. He also stood up and the next minute he was was one knee staring into my eyes.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyes wide with surprise. I had always dreamt of being proposed in the old English way and this guy who stole my heart without even trying to, was here, on his knees. “Olulana Oluwatooni, I love you from the first day I saw you but not until being way did I realise how much it hurts not to have you around. I want you, not as a girlfriend. I want you as my fiancée. The girl I would get married to and be the mother of my kids. I will support you to be the best you can be in all your goals, career and ambition.

“Olulana Oluwatooni, I love you from the first day I saw you but not until being away, did I realise how much it hurts not to have you around. I want you, not as a girlfriend. I want you as my fiancée. The girl I would get married to and who would be the mother of my kids. I will support you to be the best you can be in all your goals, career and ambition.
Now that part of marriage and mother of kids was quite scary but I was enjoying my Cinderella moment. This proposal topped the chart.

Being a Bimbo Odukoya mentee, I had learned earlier never to rubbish a guy who proposes to you. It took a lot of courage for him to walk up to you and if you don’t accept his proposal do not wound him and kill his self-esteem in the process. So I had my beautiful little speech of how I appreciate the fact that they considered me and how it was any girl’s dream come true. However, it was unlikely that I would be the one who would make them wake up with a smile each morning, grateful to God for this blessing in their lives some ten to twenty years later. That the girl is out there waiting for them and they needed to find her.

It was my signature rejection sentence. I never wasted their time and I often hoped that when I was to accept it would be that fast.

However, for some reason, I could not reject his proposal neither could I accept it. So I only told him, “Thank you”, and if he could, please give me more time to think it through.
In my discussion with friends, I had often berated girls who gave months and years for a response. I said you either knew it or you don’t.At that moment, I learnt never be too quick to judge people.

The month I graduated from the University and five months after he asked I gave him my consent.I had come into Lagos during the week. He was at my place over the weekend, to see me. He chatted with both my mum and I.It was surprising how he could hold her attention for so long. I could tell she was having a great time and secretly I knew she would be happy if only she knew but I was not going to tell my folks. I would be forced to take him round all my uncles and introduce him. He brought some chocolate chip biscuits that day which became my life addiction. Lucky me I do not have to visit the gym to keep the fats down.

I had come into Lagos during the week and on over the weekend, he was there to see me. He chatted with both my mum and I.It was surprising how he could hold her attention for so long. I could tell she was having a great time and knew she would be happy if only she knew but I was not going to tell my folks. I would be forced to take him round all my uncles and introduce him.I was not ready for that yet. He brought some chocolate chip cookies that day which became my life addiction. Luckily, I do not have to visit the gym to keep the fats down.

“You will get your answer today,” I said to him as I walked him out.

“Whatever the answer is, please don’t look back just keep going. I am not sure why I opted for that but somewhere I was afraid of any public display of affection.I walked away and shouted, “It’s a yes!” Bode took a leap into the air and was about to turn back and I said,

“No, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

We started our whirlwind romance and I must confess he made me feel like a princess. I only had to cough or sneeze and Bode was doing everything and anything.

I remember a time he came to the house and met my Dad in the living room. The interrogation by my Father was second to none. There behind the doors as I listened I was mortified.

“Where did you meet my daughter?” My Dad asked.
“We attended the same school sir,” he replied.
“You were in the same class?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh no sir, I graduated a year before her.”
“So what do you do now?”
“I work with a bank sir,”
“what bank and as what?”
“Marble Bank, I work in the IT Department, sir.”

The man was firing him questions on a full cylinder but you could see how calm and confident Bode was, not in an arrogant way but in an endearing way. I saw a twitch of a smile on the corners of his mouth although he appeared stern and strict.

“So what are your intentions for my daughter?”
“I love her sir, and with your approval, I would like to spend the rest of my life with her.”

The next question blew my mind.Did I see it coming? Who asks a prospective son-in-law such questions.

“What is the number of girls before my daughter have you said this same line to?”

“None sir.”
“None?”, He queried.
“How many of this none girls have you had sex with?”

At that point, I had never been more embarrassed in my life. But the guy took all so well. I guess when you have nothing to hide some issues don’t bother you. But Dad was taking this too far.

“None sir,” he replied.

My father guffawed and told him, “Tell that to the birds. You and I know that is not possible. I am a man and a young one once so you do not need to lie to me.”

It was time to stop this interrogation. I retreated and came in with a presence of one oblivious to their conversation.

“Hi Bode, you did not say you were coming”. I say as I take a seat beside my Dad facing Bode.
“I came to the area and decided to say hello before leaving.”
“Daddy meet my friend Bode Coker. We went to the same school”.
“We’ve already met”. He grunted and went back to reading his newspaper as if he had not been the one interrogating the young man before I came in.

Bode and I chit chatted for a while. We tried to involve my Dad in the chat but he appeared engrossed in his newspaper, which I knew was a facade and everything we said was going through his ears. My Dad did not leave the room. But not too long, Bode announced he was leaving.

Outside I apologised to Bode on my Dad’s behalf.
He laughed, “you mean you heard all that?”
“Don’t mind him. He is too protective of his daughters. When Nekan, my elder sister married, you would think the man was contesting for the Senate,” I retorted still miffed at my Dad.
“I guess that is what any father would do and I don’t blame him”, Bode said.
I thought it was cool of him to take it that way. I sure was going to have a word with him when I went back inside.

Exactly a year, after I agreed to go out with Bode. I started feeling I needed space. Bode smothered me with too much affection and I began to feel I needed my freedom. I had to consider Bode on weekends and I was missing out on much other fun and outing with my girlfriends.

Bode was in his second year of work with Marble Bank. He was very been generous with his time and money. In between the numerous International exams, he was writing he still had time for me.

On a typical day, he could call four or more times. Initially, I loved it but somewhere down the line, I started getting irritated. To top it all, he usually picked me up from work on Fridays without a car.

We would both wait at the bus stop beside my office while my colleagues who had spent the same years in banking with him would drive off in their cars. I couldn’t explain it but after a while, It began to bother me why he could not just buy himself a car. It got to a point that nothing Bode did was right.I saw faults in almost everything.

One faithful Friday, when he called to inform me, he was on his way to pick me from work.I told him not to worry that I would be going home with a colleague from now on. I could sense the shock in the long silence that followed my announcement on the other side of the phone. Then asked when I decided that.
“Last week,” I answered without thinking.
“Lana, you are just telling me. I could have made other plans you know.”
“For reasons, I still can not explain. Perhaps a bad day at work but I still am not sure that was why. I just lashed back.
” Bode Coker, I do not owe you an explanation for what I do or do not do. You are neither my father nor my boss.”
The words were out not the way I meant it but I was too upset to care.
“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?”
I raised my voice, “Don’t patronise me, Bode.”

Why does he know all the right things to say and do. With Bode, he was just this perfect guy and at this moment. He was holding back whatever he felt to get the situation resolved.

I for one must have gone crazy. I was not sure what I wanted in the relationship anymore.
He asked if we could still see during the weekend. I said I wanted to be alone.He further inquired if he had done anything to offend me.

The truth was he had not but I was beginning to feel suffocated in the relationship. We had our first major fight that day. I was the one raising my voice. But you could hear his smooth, soothing voice enough to melt a candy. But it had no effect on me. I seem to have become steel or a rock.

He gave me my space for a whole week. He would call, I won’t pick his calls, he sent dozens of text messages that I had stopped reading so that there was no need to reply.

Sunday evening, the next weekend, I met Bode at the door of my house as I came back from an outing with some of my girlfriends. I was surprised to see him. We had not spoken in seven days. Although my heart was bleeding, I joked that I survived without him. I missed the text he sent on Friday that he was coming as I had stopped reading his text messages.

We sat outside the house. The sky was dark speckled with tiny stars appearing as white dots just like the night he proposed.
The first thing he wanted to know was if I was okay.
I loved Bode and still do but I was chasing my demons. I was the problem, not him.
Then he said we needed to talk.

“Lana, have I done anything to offend you?” He asked.

I said no. How do I explain the mirage and paradox of feelings, all battling on the inside of me?
“You say I have not offended you but you are upset with me and don’t want to see me. I don’t get it. You are acting strangely,” he said.
“I am not acting strange and you are taking the matter more serious than it is,” I argued.

There were arguments. I said hurtful things I was not proud of and it was out.

“I need a break from this relationship.”

I saw shock and then slowly pain in those eyes.

And he asked,” Is there someone else?”
“No,” I reassured him and didn’t know why I did. Maybe it was because a part of me still wanted this relationship.

“I am not asking for a break because there is someone else. I am asking for a break becauseI feel like I am losing myself. I don’t know who I am anymore. Lana is gone.The Lana you see that is your ideal Lana and that is not me. I need to find and keep myself. I love you Bode but I need to do this for me, for us.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and I willed them to stay put. A drop was the excuse Bode needed to hold me and I doubted if I had the strength not to recede on the breakup and something worse might happen in the future. It was better this way. Now is the time we get to stay apart and reassess our relationship.

He was quiet for a long time.
“How long do you need this break?” he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know but I will call you. Please don’t call me. I need to think this through. I will call you.”
” You sure this is what you want” That was Bode even at that moment, he was looking out for me.
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“Lana, remember all I said the day I asked you out. I do not need to reassess this relationship to know if I love you enough to marry you. I want you in my present and future. I have made a life commitment to you. I will give you all the time you need. One month, three years, ten years. I will be waiting. I won’t look for you. You know where to find me.”

He stood up and walked away never turning back. I saw the sadness in those eyes. He suddenly seemed to have aged before my eyes. I was hurting. I could feel pain in my heart which must have been one tenth of what Bode was feeling.

I asked myself what have I done. My stubborn heart said to me, I needed to do this. I wanted to call him back and apologise but I also knew that as much as I loved Bode, This was for both of us to find out if we wanted this relationship or not.

The tears that were threatening to fall fell freely down my face like a dam of water let loose. I got into the house and met my mum in the living room.
She was alarmed when she saw my tears.
I just sat down beside her tired. How do I explain to her what I could not explain to myself?
“Is it Bode?” She asked
“Is he cheating on you?” she inquired further.
“No,” I answered. That was a preposterous thought. If only she knew.
” Bode seems a very responsible guy. Give it time then call him and talk things over. There are issues in all relationships which are very normal but how you handle those issues are what matters. You’ll be okay my dear. Don’t let it be too long. Never think because just 21, you have all the time. Men like Bode are hard to come by and he seems just the right guy for you. You both are just right for each other.”

My mum’s words just added to my misery and confusion. Was it not better for Bode and me to break up than to end up getting married and looking for a way out.
I thanked my dear mum and left for my room. I just needed a break it was not a total breakup. I tried to convince myself.

I never called Bode. Six months later, I called him on his birthday but his phone was off. Then four months later during the Christmas holidays, his phone was still off.
I visited his office.I learnt he had been moved to the London office four months back on a six months training course.

I fumed and was upset that he had moved out of the country without getting in touch with me I was too angry to bother trying to find him and I felt it was just a good excuse to move on. If he wanted the relationship, he definitely would have called.

A little voice in my head reminded me that I specifically told him not to call me. Bode being the perfect gentleman he was, obliged my request. He had also told me I knew where to find him.But the other part of me argued. It was silly of him not to have contacted when he was leaving the country for six months.

I do not know why I always thought that Bode will be there forever and I could always go back at any time.

In the period we had separated, I did not start any relationship. I was not looking for a relationship. I was too in love with my career to think marriage or to settle down. The husband and kids will slow down my advancement on the corporate ladder. I was an all for or nothing kind of person. I did not do anything in bits and I feared that marriage would tie me down.

So being without Bode was not a licence to look for another relationship right away.I guess in another ten years when I have made senior manager. I would be considering settling down and hopefully, the right person would come my way. If not adopt a kid or two and become a single mother. I would have considered getting any guy to sire the children for me. Although, I know I had wandered away from God since my first year at work I was not too far gone, to go about having children out of wedlock. It looked like charity to adopt. The kids needed a home and I needed kids. That is if the state would give them to a single parent.

I had my life planned out as I had always done. My life has been together the way I wanted.There was nothing out of control and no surprises. My relationship with Bode was great while it lasted. There had never been room for a relationship in my plans. Perhaps I was too selfish to think of others but myself and what I wanted.

In School, all I did was read and study to distraction. My love was my academics, my goals and my aspirations. I let my guards down with Bode but his love was not enough to satisfy me and make up for where I was heading to in life. I know he promised to back me up on my career but it was a whole more than words. Pregnancies will come and knock you one step backwards; perhaps two or three if you decide to have that many kids.Then the guilt you would feel in leaving them behind with helps, nannies and chauffeurs. I see older colleagues at work juggle and seem to balance it but I also the failures too, mishaps and near disaster stories.

I am glad or so I think to leave home each day without the baggage of family – work life balance and come back every evening to sleep. For weekends and holidays, I hit rock bottom wishing for a family to share the moments with but all that is out of the windows by Monday morning. The cycle continues.

I never heard from Bode and the years have ahead. I progressed in my career beyond my dreams and was pleased with myself. Somewhere the key to that part of my life was locked and thrown away. I was the architect of my misfortune and there was no one to blame but myself.

Story continues

Dear Readers,
Your thoughts and comments on Lana are welcome.
I would love to read from you. You can tweet, post comments on our Facebook page or use the blog.The links to our twitter and facebook are on the blog page.
1.What could have driven her to push out something so significant in her life?
2.Should Bode have just walked out without fighting for the relationship?
3.Do we believe in love at first sight? Please share.
Life is a paradox; we want what we don’t have, hold no value for what is before us and within our reach. We have misplaced values and priorities that shape our choices. We have myths that are what they are myths but seem to be a force that controls and guides our decision making.
It might not be relationships for us. It could even be a career we let go because we felt we could not balance up or cope with the stress. It could be our kids, our relationship with our maker because we felt we had wandered too far to come back. It could be a dream that we have given up on because we never bothered to try.
We make mistakes, but we should not sit and keep crying over spilt milk. We clean our eyes, dry those tears and ask what can I do now? How can I make my life better? What can I do differently?
………………………………Simply just us, women.

Omo washe omo rishe #2

I choose my career

I choose my Career

It was one of those mornings you wished you could sleep in and suddenly realised that it’s a Monday and you have a 7:00am meeting with a presentation. The alarm rings, and in an attempt to put it off, I catch a glimpse of the time. It’s 5.30am. That must have been an error. I was sure I set it for 5.00am. I make a quick dash to the bathroom and out in a record 7 minutes. I wear my suits, grab my shoes and bag an additional 5 minutes. Hair, makeup, and all others would be done in the cab. BJ is currently on his annual leave so I use a Taxi cab in the morning and at the close of work, I join any colleague going my way.

My phone buzzes, it’s the cab driver. I dash out of the house on a sprint to the Estate gate. Taxi cabs are not allowed into the estate. I am lucky to make it to the meeting at 6.55am.

“Phew! That was very close”, I mutter to myself as I take my seat beside Peju.

“Girl what happened to you? You look scattered”, she says.

“Ore, I woke up late, dreamt I was dining in the white house with George W. Bush and did not want that dream to end” I tease.

She chuckles and said reverting to Pidgin English, “gist dey after the meeting.

We ease off on our chit-chat as the moderator starts the meeting.

My presentation went well. Luckily there were more pressing issues that morning than the need to scrutinize my report. As soon as the meeting was over I was with Peju. Once Peju says there is gist be sure it is hot and sizzling gossip.

“So girlfriend, what is the gist?” I walk beside her as we leave the meeting venue. Peju laughs, “you and this your ears for Kwongosa, I know you won’t rest till you have heard it all.”

“Spill jo, don’t make me beg,” I said.

“We are leaving for Chief Bola Idowu’s office this morning. He called me last night to pick up a six-figure cheque.” “Woop!”I shout. I throw my hands in the air, do a jig and turn around. I see colleagues starring but who cares.

“Shhh,” Peju gestures placing are her index finger over her lips. “I don’t want to let the cat out of the bag till we have brought the cheque in.”

Chief Idowu is a very good friend of one of my uncles and I had dropped his name for Peju in one of our meetings. I just never thought he would.

“Wow! Peju, I should have gone there myself o!” I say to her. She hisses, “Who do you think has the account. Me?” she asks.

“Yes, it’s you, he called,” I answered.

“Girlfriend, he is your uncle’s friend. It’s your account,” she says.

I am dumbfounded. In this, our job of dog chop dog, I never saw it coming. I gave her the name because she needed two more names on her list to make ten prospects as I already had my ten.

I say to Peju, “I am really touched and I know you are my friend but take it.You went to him I doubt if I would have gone.”

“Are you sure?” She asked.

I say to her, “Girl, you must be crazy to think of giving me.”

“Hmmm, Lana, I am only wise to know that before Maple Bank you and I were and after Maple Bank, you and I will be. I can’t allow a simple account to come between us.”

I place my hand on my chest over my heart and roll my eyes dramatically, “This is so touching.”

“Get out”, Peju says giggling and playfully shoving me forward.

Unfortunately, yours truly missed a step and fell flat in front of the Boss.

The hardliner never ever smiling boss. It was like if he did smile his face would crack or something terrible would happen. Between Peju and I, we nicknamed him Buffalo.

“Ladies, is this the right place for this sort of behaviour?” his voice thundered.

Peju with a remorse face says, “No sir,” She is trying hard to stifle her giggle as the look of me sprawled on the floor before the boss was hilarious.

“You could take your lack of seriousness out of here. If you put as little as half the effort you put into your giggling to your work, the Bank’s bottom line would be smiling.”

Looking down at me, “And you, see me in my office for that your report,” he barked.

Oh now, I certainly would kill Peju for this. I give her a look of “you are gunner girl, you got me into this you either get me out or you would pay for this.”

Peju steps in, “Sir, Please can Lana see you later for the report, we have been called by one of the prospects we submitted the last week to pick up a cheque.”He asked us to come before 9.00am this morning.”

I looked at her, oh girl you have just bitten the lion’s tail.

“How much is this cheque we are talking about?” he asks with a look of disdain.

“N100, 000,000 sir”, she says with a straight face like she was calling a Five Naira note.

“And you are still here?” he barked, “leave this minute and don’t come back here without that cheque.”

I was up from my feet now and we both scramble away from his presence.

“I thought you wanted it as a surprise?” I asked her.

“Yes, I did but you and I know you won’t be out of that office for the next two hours, from making tea to writing and reviewing one memo or the other. I had to do something. Not with the way you were shooting daggers with your eyes. It was clear, I was a gunner.”

“Chief Idowu had better keep his word”. I say to her laughing. “Or else Buffalo will so knock you down you will forget your name.”

We both go to the ladies to work on our makeup and appearance before setting out.

On our way to Chief’s office, my phone rings. I ignore it.

Peju looks at me. “Pick up your phone girl.”

I shook my head. I did not feel up to it this morning. Ever since I started work with the bank, my uncle calls me every Monday morning under the guise of checking up on me. The call always ended the same way. “Lana remember the family you came from, never compromise your values for a career”.

I was not up to his call this morning, so l let the phone ring enjoying the Lagbaja’s all hit Konko below I used as a ring tone.

Uncle Sege is my favourite uncle and I am his favourite niece. I remember his prayers when I bought him the Paco Rabanne 1 Million Cologne with my first pay. The prayers were heaven bound and the counsel top grade with marriage first on the agenda.

“Ehen, what about that your friend who was calling you three Christmases ago?” He asked.

“I really liked that young man. He seems very sensible and responsible.” He concluded. I lied through my teeth that he was fine.

The Christmas, Uncle Sege was referring to was the one I spent with his family the year I graduated from University. My parents chose that year to go to the village and I decided to stay back but they insisted I moved over to my Uncle’s place rather than be home alone.

Uncle Sege, as we fondly call him is the youngest of my Father’s four siblings. He is a modern man. He is what I call updated. There is no latest music or film show he’s not knowledgeable off. He was one never to miss the AY comedy show since it started. “Uncle mi to bad,” we dare not speak our slangs in his presence, he would decode. We all loved, respected and feared him. He was easy to talk to, fun to be with and generous to a fault. He spoilt all his nephews and nieces without exception but I was sure I was top on the list.

If you loved Uncle Sege, wait until you met his wife, Auntie Bimba. She is an epitome of loveliness. Auntie Bimba is not the usual robust Yoruba women you come across as aunties. She is modern, updated like her husband. Growing up, she was the only Aunt I knew in my large family who would turn up in Jeans or an English outfit for family functions. There were always snickers and comments by my other Aunts but either she heard or she just did not care enough to bother. We, the young ones felt she was the coolest of all the Aunts. She was also a Barrister like my Uncle.

Uncle Sege always joked that he never wanted to be on the other team when Auntie Bimba was prosecuting. He would joke many times that he stepped down at home so that the day they ever had to be on opposing sides in court, she would remember his love and devotion. Aunt Bimba, would shake her head and say to him laughing, “Not in your life”. We all knew and saw how much how much they both loved each other. Uncle Sege was the only man to kiss his wife full on the mouth in our family meetings much to the chagrin of the other women.

I once heard Auntie Kemi, the wife to Uncle Kunle who was second to the youngest of my father’s siblings, saying, “Did they not leave the house together, so why the public display of affection? They are corrupting the younger ones”.

I could swear that Auntie Kemi wouldn’t have minded if her husband had done the same. I think I did see a look of longing in her eyes, but it was gone in a flash.

Aunt Bimba was neither robust nor slim. She is about a size 12 for her small frame. She was dark in complexion, a full mouth that was always in mulberry shade lipstick, perhaps one of the reasons why Uncle Sege could not stop kissing her, beautiful cat shaped eyes, the kind that would put Cleopatra of Egypt to shame, a cute nose that was neither pointed nor round and her short well permed and styled hair. She had everything put together that my other aunts would have wanted. A good career, a nice body that did not require the gym, dieting, or jaw locking, good looks and an adoring husband.

The young man Uncle Sege had been referring to was Bode Coker. My first love. Bode and I met on campus. I still remember that day like yesterday. The day started like any other Thursday in June. It was a special fellowship programme termed love feast where food and drinks were shared, and different people come up the stage to share words of inspiration and encouragement in special songs, drama presentation, and comedy. It was one of those events that drew crowds on campus without a barrier to your race, department, ideology or belief. We both were on the committee for this programme and had worked hard to make it the successful one it turned out to be.

Due to behind the scenes logistics, I came in late enough to be ushered to a seat. The guy at the entrance of the hall welcoming everyone in was definitely the most handsome guy I had ever laid eyes on. I recall smiling and saying to myself, “That’s one handsome guy there, wait till I get back to my room to gist the other girls.”

We had engaged in a discussion earlier in the week as to who was a handsome guy and started calling names. I just kept saying “Nah! No!! Nope!!!” That night, they came to the conclusion, my definition for handsomeness was out of this world.

It must have been a divine encounter for my eyes to be opened to see him in a light that would make him stand out that day. This was because we had both been in this fellowship and faculty for three years and I never noticed the face. We were on the same committee for three weeks planning a programme, and if I had passed him along the road, I still would not have recognised him. He was just any other face but on this day, he stood out.

I did not get see him again till sometimes in July. I stopped a cab in town heading for the campus, and he was already in the cab. He said, “Hello,” and because I knew the face, although I still did not know his name. I said, “Hi,”and got into a conversation and we introduced ourselves.

We got to the campus, he paid my fare and walked me to my hostel. I was an undergraduate but staying in the postgraduate hall. A room of two people turned to a room of four. He stopped at the entrance of the hostel and wished me a good evening. I could swear, I fell in love with him that very moment. The norm was to ask for your room number and offer to come visit.

We began running into each other frequently. We fast became friends as we realised we had mutual friends and activities. He had a group of two other guys and they were fondly called the three musketeers. I had dealings with the other two guys not knowing all three were connected. They were all a year ahead of me with just some few months to leave. Those moments were one of the best memories of campus. These guys were incredible and fun to be with. They left school the following year for their national youth service. The first month was terrible. I missed them as everywhere and everything reminded me of them. I could not remember how my life was before they came in.

The days went by and I settled into the routine of lectures, getting my project ready and fellowship.

One day, three months after they had left, I was in a stationery store that also served as a call center. Students paid to either make or receive calls. I heard the name Bode Coker over the phone, without so much of a please excuse me I grabbed the phone from the attendant and I am like, “Hey you, this is Lana. What a coincidence I am here”. I was too excited and firing questions if he had heard from the other two, where he got to work and how the work was going.

I remembered my manners, “Wow! Sorry, please, who did you want to speak to?”

He said he called to speak with me.

I was surprised. “How could you have known that I would be here?”

“I took a risk,” He answered.

“Wow! That is sure some risk” I replied.

He asked if it was okay to call me regularly and I said, “No Bode. It would be nice but I don’t want to send the wrong signals”.

“Okay,” he said and asked me to say hi to some other people and the call ended.

Bode was a cool guy. A perfect gentleman, I fondly called him but I never gave myself the luxury that he would seek me out. I had this image of the kind of girl who he would go out with and that image did not come close to mine. We were great friends and it would stay that way.

It was that Christmas I spent at Uncle Sege’s place that we were both constantly on the phone. During one of our conversation, he told me he had a surprise for me. I love giving surprises but could not stand receiving any. I was curious and asked him to spill it.

He said, “Never,” that he would bring the surprise in January when he came to Campus. Immediately I don’t know why I had this fear but I asked, “I hope you are not spending all that hours on the road to come and see my face, there must be something else bringing you.”

“My fingers are crossed, just wait and see when I come.” He said laughing.

He came the third weekend in January. I was away for a friend’s wedding in town and came back in the evening. I was told by my roommates and they were smiling mischievously.

“Bode was here, he said he would check back at 7pm.”

“What?” I asked, looking at them suspiciously.

“Nothing,” they both said bursting into laughter.

“You tell us,” Toke said.

We heard a knock on the door and since I was still standing by the door, I was the one to open. I smiled when I saw him.

“Surprise,” I say as I allow him to come in. I excused myself to change into comfortable blue jeans and a yellow top from my earlier Buba and Iro with gele.

“Did she not look like a bride just know?” Toke was asking Bode when I came in.

“I am here o! Please don’t talk about me as if I am not here,” I said.

“Yes, she did, and that’s what you guys will be doing from graduation”. Bode continued only acknowledging me with a smile that sent butterflies in my stomach. I was sure it must be something I ate at the party.

“How’s Bayo?” he asks Toke. “He is fine I should speak to him this evening.”

“Please do send my regards,” Bode said.

Toke and Bayo had been an item since our first semester 300 level. I was the chief teaser. How Toke took all my teasing was just a wonder but I was sure I could not take a quarter of the fun I had at her expense.

We left together to go out and Toke whispered into my ears, “I am waiting here”. Whatever she meant I had no clue but I was going to have a great evening, which I promised myself. It was not every day a friend from out of town came to see you.

That evening outside the student union building under the dark cloud with white specks of shining stars we talked about everything, the service year, his new place of assignment, his family, hopes dreams aspirations. It was a talk like you probably won’t see each other again and that was the reality. We probably won’t see each other after now. I was soon to graduate to be posted to any of the thirty-six states in the country…………..

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

Kwongosa – A slang for hot gist

Buba and Iro – The traditional yoruba attire

Gele – The traditional yoruba headgear