writing 2016 – 21stcenturybelle

omowashe omorishe#20

Secrets

secrets

Lana

Patience came into the room and beckoned to Deola. There was hush hushes around me that I became suspicious.

“Are you planning a coup d’etat on me,” I teased.
You’ll have to all try harder I joked further.
Soon the girls were staring at me weirdly.

“Spill it out,” I commanded snapping my fingers like a royal does to her subjects.
“You might want to sit down,” Halima advised soberly. I would give a penny to see her this demure, but they all appeared to have a serious issue on their minds.

“I think you should call Bode,” Patience suggested.

“Why should I? he is out there and any minute from now I would be called”, I answered still wondering what joke the girls had up their sleeve.

“Lana, this is serious. We are not kidding,” said Deola with a strain in her voice as she knelt beside me taking my hands in hers.

“Bode and his family have left,” announced Patience.

“How do you mean? What do you mean left?” I asked perplexed.
I wrung my hands from her as I stood up to find my parents.
The girls blocked the door hindering me from going out.
I fumbled with my phone to call Bode as my hands shook with fear and confusion.
His call came through just before she made the call.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing he asked over the phone.
Hearing his voiced washed away part of the apprehension.

“Yes I am but what happened with my family?”

“I don’t know, but your uncle mentioned my aunt could explain.”

“Your aunt?” I asked more confused as to what she had to do with us.

“My mother’s twin sister arrived from the UK today and got dragged to the event. Your uncle might have known her before or someone related to them but whatever it was, did not sound good.
Your Dad was also disturbed when he whispered something to him.
We have tried to ask my aunt questions, but she says in her opinion, that there is no reason for the disruption of the introduction,” he briefed her.

“Damn!” I heard him swear. It was unlike Bode.
“I am going to see my parents right away.

“Can I pick you in about two hours?” he asked.
I could not but smile, trust Bode to be thinking of me in the worst of situations.
My heart melted. A gesture like this one, and many other were the reasons I loved the guy and death alone could separate us.

There must be some explanation to the fiasco that happened to send Bode and his people without the favourable response they expected.
I marched out like a warrior on a mission to my parents and ran into my mum.
“I was just coming to get you.We need to talk,” my mother said tiredly.

“Yeah, I answered drily. I have no idea what drama happened out there but I want it resolved quickly.
“You know what Bode and I have gone through in the past. We don’t need any family meddling. You said it yourself that he was the best guy for me,” I argued with my mum.
She flinched at my words like I had slapped her in the face. In a way, I was happy because I could tell that come what may she would be by my side.
“My dear, there are some things we never plan for that happens, and we need to be strong when they come. What we see is not always what it seems to be,” advised.

“I patted her arm with the assurance of Queen Amina of Zazzau’s victory at all her battles. There is not “seem to be” with Bode and I. ours is what there is, you get to see, assured her confidently.

“Let’s go and see Dad and sort this my Nollywood scene one out,” I said.

If only I had an inkling of the crack in my perfect life I was to encounter in a few minutes, perhaps I would not have joked so hard or taken it calmly. Bode and I would have gone far away from civilisation to live strengthened by your love for each other.

I arrived the living room with Uncle Segun and My Dad seated. My father had his lips pursed in the usual way when he had something serious he wanted to say.
“I t had better be worth every pinch of salt,” I was furious with him.

“Lana, sit my uncle patted the seat beside him for me to sit which I declined to express how upset I was.

I refused to be patronised by them. How could my family have spoiled such an important day to me without finding an effectively way of resolving the issue amicably? They had to send Bode and his family away disgracefully.

“There is something you need to know. We have kept this truth from you for a long time hoping for the favourable time to tell you,” said my Uncle Segun. What was curious to me was why he was the spokesman in this matter.

“And today is the favourable day?” I asked with disdain.

“Lana, you would not talk to your Uncle that way. We brought you up better than that,”My mother reprimanded me.
I shrugged too upset to care.
How could they sit there so righteous about what they had done?
“I do not know how to start,” said Uncle Segun.

“Start from anywhere but I need a good reason for what happened and a solution too,” I retorted angrily.

I knew my mum was looking at me, rebuking me with her eyes since her words had failed to caution me but I refused to look at her.
I was ready for a fight with my elders. Although, the saying goes that you do not fight with your seniors and win.
My Dad stood up and left us only to come back with a brown envelope that looked old. It was sealed.

“Open it,” he commanded.

I tore to envelope open, and it was a birth certificate from the United Kingdom
“What is this Dad?” I asked looking at him all the while wondering the correlation between the trouble we had and the certificate he gave me.
“Read it,” he instructed.
I read it.
The birth certificate belonged to Olulana Oluwatooni, same name, same birthday as me but with Uncle Segun and another name as parents.

“What happened to her?” I asked referring to the child.
Uncle Segun had a child born the same day as me with another woman and not Auntie Bimba, there was real trouble for him when she found out, but why give me the birth certificate?

Nothing prepared me for the bombshell my Uncle Segun dropped next.
“You are my daughter!”

“Common Uncle Segun, this is not the time or place for your jokes. We have something serious here. My introduction has been stopped by some story you are yet to tell me.I will come to this later but can we talk what happened here today,” I asked.

How was I to believe this cock and bull story of being Uncle Segun’s daughter? Some jokes died even before being shared, and this was one of them.

“What happened Dad?” I asked taking a look at him, my mother and then Uncle Segun.
“The woman that came with Bode’s family, his mum’s twin is the name of the woman on your certificate. She ‘s your mother and then makes you and Bode first cousins,” my Dad answered in that straightforward and short way parents offered an explanation and expected you to understand even an altering life information as this.

I sat stunned, taking in the information.
What was happening was not real. I must be in a bad dream.
I took a look at my parents, or not parents and uncle but not my uncle.
“It’s not true?” I whispered more a question than a statement, yet everything within me told me it was the truth.

I could not believe it, but it was true.
I looked at the paper again as the tears threatening to fall blurred my vision.
Who was I?
I was not who I thought I was.
How do these things happen? I searched my memory if I had encountered such story before in fiction or a movie but none. There was no story to relate with but my imagination.
I felt hot and cold at the same time as the doctor’s orders flashed my mind not to exert myself overly. Damn! I swore. Did I just swear? What does it matter?

You find out in one day. Your fiancé is your first cousin. Your sister all your twenty-six years of life is not your sister, your parents are not your parents and your Uncle is now your father with a mother you never knew.
Your whole life has been a joke, and nothing had been real.
I felt ripples of several emotions; hurt, betrayal, and anger.

“Why? Why now? Why was I never told this? Why was I lied to all my life?” I shouted hysterically.
My supposed parents and uncle looked with discomfort but said nothing.
They were wise not to as it would only have aggravated an already bad situation and I would have said things not worth repeating.
I was close to hating. I hated them for this.

The room became too stuffy for me. I wanted to get out. I wanted to leave the presence of these strangers I had known all my lives.
With the birth certificate in my hand, I took a last look at them and walked out of the room, out of the house and out of their lives forever.
*******
Bode

I was unable to see Lana. We left Lana”s place, not without my uncle promising that we would look into the matter and be back with our proposal.
He was confident that whatever the issue is will be resolved and was not upset about the refusal of our proposal.

No sooner had we entered the house did my uncle rebuke my mum.

“Did I not tell you not to allow her to go with us,” he referred to my aunt like she had no name.

“Egbon, it would have still happened even if Kehinde was not there.” said my mum.

She was right because they were identical, you could hardly tell the difference between them.
“It would not because you did not know that family and had not seen them until today,” he argued.

My aunt stood there the whole time. Then she quietly asked to be excused that she was tired and needed to rest.
Tired I asked in my head. My whole life was crumbling, and you hold the key, and there you are saying you were tired.

“You can go and rest. I am so sorry for troubling you today,” my mum apologised.

“ Kehinde, You can’t go and rest yet. You need to tell us what that man meant. I could see you knew each other. Since you refused to talk there to allay their fears about our family, the little you can do now is tell us.
I punched my uncle in the back in comradeship. Mind you this was all in my head. How dare you do that to an elder in Africa, your mother’s elder brother? It was not only disrespectful. You could incur a curse on your life. The man hit the nail on the head. He was as eager to get over with the situation as I was.

“Egbon, this could wait till later, let her rest. I should not have insisted she came knowing she had just arrived from a long journey,” my mum pleaded with Baba Bisola.

“No, it cannot wait, you do not go to bed when you have an issue to resolve because sleep will be futile. I am also surprised at how calm you are about the issue. You would have told me earlier that you were not keen on your soon getting married,” queried Baba Bisola.

“Oti o! , meaning No in Yoruba. What kind of mother would I be?” I am only practical, night has come, and whatever we find out, we still need to discuss with the family and fix another introduction date. You have no idea how grateful I am not to have made the event an elaborate one. The shame would have killed me,”

“Now you are talking,” he nodded in agreement.

“That is why I want it resolved. Whatever story Kehinde has might give us a clue.” he reasoned.

“Kehinde, you don’t have to provide us with a long story just a summary what we need to know to solve the problem before us,” my mum said.

I sat there and watched as the words flew over my head. I had tried Lana, severally but her phone was switched off.

My ears piqued when I heard my aunt say,” I will tell the story, but it has no link to stop Bode and their daughter.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” said Baba Bisola impatiently.

I met Segun in the United Kingdom while in medical school, he was a law student. We fell in love. He was a perfect gentleman all the way. Pushing me to study hard and maintain my excellent grades. I was the best student in my class. My life could not have been more perfect, great school, wonderful friends, good grades and the perfect boyfriend. Segun back in the day was a good looking guy. So handsome that he had ladies eating out of his hands, but he treated them all with respect.

I was aloof at first where he was concerned. I was not fooled by his charms or so I thought. But love has no design or pattern. It happens beyond our well calculated strong will. The heart will respond and sometimes the battle of our will could be lost before we even realised what hit us.

I was introduced to Segun by a mutual friend at her birthday party. He was funny, witty and humble. He had none of the airs I had perceived from afar. I watched how he related to the others, and you could see he genuinely cared about people. We struck a friendship and became the best of friends. He had many female friends, but that did not bother me until one day, he came excitedly to my room asking for advice, he had found a girl he wanted to date. He wanted my help.

I was stunned, but I could not explain the pain I felt in my heart. For a brief second, I felt that girl should have been me. But I pushed that thought away and asked him about the girl. I would perform my duty as a friend who wanted the best for him.
The mystery girl was one lucky girl, as we planned together. Segun would ask questions, and I would answer him using the thought process of an average girl.
The big day came. He asked if I wanted to go with him. Of course, I shooed him off.

“My work ends here buddy. The rest is yours. Let me know how it goes when you have time off,” I said.

“Is someone jealous here?” he teased.

“Not in your life,” I lied as I pushed him out of the door playfully but quickly, my heart was breaking into pieces.

I fell on my bed and cried my heart out. I had lost my friend forever.
Two hours later, my room bell rang. I was not expecting any one. Segun must be busy executing our plans on his new girlfriend.
I ignored the call. I must be looking a mess, but the persistent ringing got me out of bed, it could be one my girlfriends. I was not ready for company, but it wouldn’t hurt to have someone take my mind off the pain that threatened to consume me. I had heard of heart breaks but now understood the pain. It was worse than a physical wound which could be treated and heal in no time. The ache was intense, and I had no clue how I would survive it.
I opened the door and was aghast so see Segun.

“What are you doing here? Are you not meant to be at her place?” I asked surprised he was at my door.
He ignored my question and asked me what happened that I had been crying.
My red swollen eyes must have given me away.

“Nothing, I can’t handle,” I answered with an excitement that was far from what I was feeling inside my heart.
There was no point lying.

“Enough about me.What happened to your date?” I asked trying to change the subject.

“I want to know why you were crying. I left you two hours ago, and you were perfectly okay,” pestered Segun. He apparently did not believe me.
No way was I going to bear my heart before him.
It was my secret. Time will heal me.

“Come,” he commanded me, and my wayward heart betrayed me as my legs walked towards him.

“Doctor, you can’t diagnose your ailment,” he shook his head with disappointments.

“There is no medicine or antidote for some illness,” I replied.
He was too close for comfort.
Let me try was what I heard as his lips came softly on mine.
The kiss was sweet. I angled myself towards Segun wanting to get more of him as my hungry heart yearned. I would keep this memory tucked away as a souvenir of what we never had and be contented to have shared this moment with him.

Baba Bisola cleared his throat. I am not here to listen to romantic stories. “Tell me what I need to know regarding the situation at hand.”

“I am getting there,” my aunt said unruffled.

And she continued.

I quickly pulled myself away.
What was I doing? I asked myself
“We should not be doing this,” I whispered even when my heart was screaming otherwise.
He used his finger to lift my chin and looked into my eyes. Segun was much taller than my 5 feet 2 inches.
“What do you see?” he asked hoarsely his voice filled with emotions I could not decipher.
“Your eyes,” I replied lamely and looked away.
He looked so disappointed that my heart was beating with hope. Why was he playing tricks on me when he should be doing this to his mystery girlfriend? My head reasoned.

“I love you, Agnes. I loved you the first day I saw you in the school’s cafeteria and our chance meeting at Gigi’s birthday was a dream come true. I always have and will always love you.
I was crying more and harder now. Dreams do come true. Don’t they?

“What happened to your mystery girlfriend?” I asked curious to know.

“It was you all the while,” he replied.

I smiled deliriously with happiness.
Segun was mine, and I was his.

We dated for two years. Segun finished his law course and needed to come to Nigeria for the law school and national youth service and after that, return to the UK. He lived with his elder brother then. The parents of the girl we went to see. I still had three years of med school.
The night before he left, with so many emotions of our impending situation, one thing led to another as we gave into our passion resulting in the birth of a child nine months later.

We exchanged letters all through that period. I never told Segun I was pregnant. I was ashamed, I could not call home, I could not tell you, she said looking at my mother, afraid he might break up with me. I was scared I would be thrown out of med school.

I hid the pregnancy, luckily I succeeded. Two weeks to my expected date of delivery, I went to Segun’s brother and explained that I did not want to ruin his life and snag him into marrying me, but I could not keep the child, and I wanted to put the baby up for adoption. All this while I still did not inform Segun I was pregnant.
His brother was calm when I told him. He asked me to give him a week. He needed to discuss with his wife.
They called me earlier precisely three days later. They will take the child from me. They already had a daughter. They were not adopting but will care for the child till when Segun came back, and we were able to make our decision.

I had the baby and gave her to them immediately. I applied for a transfer to another med school to finish my studies and moved on. I did not keep contacts with my friends and just disappeared. I wrote to Segun that I had found someone else, and we could no longer date.
It was the hardest thing I had to do, but I wanted this part of my life over. I wished I had done things differently, but it was still not a guarantee that Segun and I would have been together.

I never got any letter from him as I left no forwarding address and mentioned I had left. I requested the records department not give my new information to anyone.
Looking back, I made a wrong decision and had my regrets.However,
I am here now to look for my daughter and ask for her forgiveness.

I listened to my aunt’s story with rapt attention. Lana and I almost made that same mistake with Lana feeling she needed to focus on her career, making her decision on our lives without consulting me. But we were past that now.

My mum let out a sigh as she wiped her tears.
“Such a sad story and you went through this alone. Why did you not share this with me?” my mum asked her sister.
“You had your hands full, marriage, a toddler. Your life had no space to accommodate all the drama mine had. I was not proud of myself either. Going to med school and getting pregnant,” replied my aunt.

Baba Bisola to my surprise failed to give his opinion on the matter.
“Mama Bode, let me know when you have sorted it out with the family and when next we have to come.I have had enough happening for a day. A prodigal sister comes back to look for a child she abandoned whose father happens to be the Uncle of Bode’s fiancée. What is this world turning into these days,” he muttered.

“I am sorry, I never tried to communicate in time past. I was ashamed that I had failed the family. Our society frowns at having a child out of wedlock and is very unforgiving. Had I kept the baby and came back my life would be unbearable first from my family and community. I know I have no excuse. Egbon, I am sorry,” pleaded my aunt as she went on her knees in the traditional way joined by my mother.

“ It’s okay, like your sister said, we do not throw the baby and the water away. I wish you the best now that you are back. I hope you get your daughter back although it is almost too late now.

Omowashe omorishe#19

When you hit a brick wall….

brick-wall

Bode

“Welcome our in-laws,” greeted the elaborately dressed woman in Yoruba traditional attire of buba and iro made in white lace fabric and a peach head gear made from the famous aso oke.

She led us into the living room that had been decorated differently from the way I remembered it. The interiors screamed posh with an extensive detail in its design. I could see the principles Feng Chiu used as every accessories and furniture blended harmoniously with a subtle twist of simplicity.
The seats were soft and comfortable as we sank into them taking our seats. We thought we were late but on the contrary. Our in-laws were not ready which was a blessing in disguise. It would not have been a good impression if they had to wait for us.
I sat beside my uncle, Baba Bisola who was beside my mum, and next her twin sister and Risi. The woman was quiet, but it was not out of the ordinary since no one was conversing with her apart from my mum. Baba Bisola had not as much as given her a glance since we came in. She could have well not existed to him.
Lana’s parents came out followed by her Uncle Segun. I noticed he did a double take when he came in and saw us. The man was stunned with a look of shock on his face as he struggled to gather himself together. That could be easily explained seeing the similarities between my mother and her twin.
However, I began to wonder what he saw that brought the look and reaction. He was not himself for the better part of the time we were there. He kept stealing looks at my mum and her twin. At another occasion, I could have sworn the man was sweating which did not look like one from the weather as the air condition in the room was as cold as a refrigerator.
My interest was further piqued when I glanced at my aunt who had a startled look on her face when she saw Lana’s uncle, but if she knew him, she did not at least give a hint. I watched the interplay between them, Uncle Segun desperately trying to pass a message across to her while my aunt stubbornly kept looking away from him.
Uncle Bisola, stood up to give the speech and the reason the family came. I could not have been more proud. He was eloquent and purposeful with very convincing words leaving them no choice than to give their daughter to us willingly.
My Uncle, a Professor of Mathematics and Applied Statistics, insisted on being called Baba Bisola by family members and not the usual Prof, used by his friends and colleagues in the academic community. He argued that Prof was meant for work and would not want to be placed on any pedestal apart from the one that arose from the ties that bound us.
Nonetheless, today, he showed us off in a proper light, and I was none the more so glad he came along.
The speech was well received, and Lana’s father was more than happy to receive us. However, he asked if Uncle Segun had anything to say.
The man cleared his throat and focused his attention on my mum and her twin.
“Our in-laws to be. I did not know Bode’s mother is a twin. So we can expect twins as grandchildren from Bode and Lana,” he joked.
“Your similarity is so striking that I can hardly tell the difference. Which of you of you is Bode’s mother,” asked Uncle Segun
My mum smiled in response that she was, and this was her twin sister who she dragged to the venue having just returned from the UK.
“Her name is Kehinde Agnes Balogun
Uncle Segun cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Mrs Balogun,” he called out to her.
“Do you have anything to say that would help us consider accepting your nephew as our future son-in-law?” he questioned.
I was confused but explained it away in my head. He did not know that Agnes Balogun was not part of my family but someone who dropped from the middle of nowhere and due to my mother’s kind heart and irreversible bond, she was brought here on impulse.
Baba Bisola was fuming under his breath that he had said she was bad news from the beginning.
My aunt replied No.
Uncle Segun now asked my mum, “Are you are Bode’s mum?
It seemed odd for him to be asking the question again but I assumed it was all to make the program livelier. However, unbeknown to me. It was the beginning of an issue that would turn around my life forever and haunt me till my dying day.
“Yes,” she answered.
“And this is your twin?” he asked jutting his chin to my aunt’s direction.
“Yes,” my mum answered again not perturbed.
There was no need to worry. People asked for hands in marriage every day without the the drama mine was about to unfold.
Ewo! He shouted in Yoruba meaning forbidden, shaking his head from side to side despondently.
Lana’s father was staring at him with raised eyebrows.
“Daddy Nekan, there is trouble,” he whispered to his brother but loud enough for all in the room to hear.
“Lana cannot marry into this family. And it is with due respect. We would have to ask you to leave. We cannot accept your proposal.
“Segun, kilonsele, I heard Lana’s father ask amidst the panic that seized my heart.
I glanced at my mother and Baba Bisola. This must be some huge joke. There must be something wrong.
The family had accepted Lana and I. Coming here today was to fulfil the obligation. So what was this madness of a joke played out here?
I ran my hand through my hair, unbuttoning the clip of the neck of my beautifully embroidered white guinea kaftan as I was suddenly feeling hot.
Whatever was playing out here could not be happening. I shook my head like one willing away an evil trance.
“Egbon, I will tell you now but let them leave,” I heard Uncle Segun say.
Why was this man the one in charge while Lana’s parents listened to him?.
I was distraught.
What was happening?
This was not some Nollywood movie.
This was my life! My introduction! I screamed in my head.
My family was being asked to leave that the proposal was not accepted.
I saw the stunned look on Baba Bisola’s face.
“Our in-laws this is not done. If you are rejecting our proposal, could you at least tell us why? And if it is something we need to work on, we will rectify and come back to you at an agreed date,” said my uncle trying to salvage an already bad situation.
“You would have to ask her,” said Uncle Segun pointing to my aunt.
She sat down unflinchingly without uttering a word.
My life was going in shambles, and an aunt I had never seen held the answers.
We were looking at my aunt expectantly hoping it was a misunderstanding to be cleared once she spoke.
But she never did, rather she had tears trickling down her face. In one second she looked tired and defeated.
There was some story to be told and for Lana and my happiness, someone had better start talking.
“There must be some misunderstanding,” said Baba Bisola gallantly, refusing to give up forging ahead with the belief that our mission here today must be achieved.
Lana’s father called Uncle Segun aside.
We could not hear what was he was saying but could read the look of shock on his face at whatever Uncle Segun had told him.
And right before our eyes, Lana’s father aged as his shoulders slumped losing it’s earlier aristocratic posture.
I needed to get out of here and see Lana. These elders should not play with our lives.

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