For those of you that keep asking, Northern Prince Finale is very much ready! But like I explained (again and again) I am trying to get it published so cannot put it on here. But if you send me an email on firstname.lastname@example.org, I will forward the last part to you! Better still follow me on twitter @naijadaydreamer So please please no more comments on it! You can start the Northern Prince Series from Part 1 HERE.
Here is another story I have been working on. Comment, RT and let me know what you think.
Nafisat Yakubu knew that she was doing everything wrong but she had been trying to convince herself that it would all end once she left Lagos back for Kano. After all, she was about to round up her one year compulsory NYSC program which she had used as her excuse to flee the life that had been planned out for her since she had been born.
It was 10.30pm and she was still stuck at the office finishing up boring paper work. She lit up another cigarette and stared at the Lagos skyline from the 18th floor of Gloval Towers in Victoria Island. She would certainly miss this view and the constant city buzz.
She picked up her phone and noticed that she had 15 unread emails and 45 blackberry messages, all from friends who wanted to congratulate her on her uncle's appointment as the Senate president. She dialled her driver and asked him to bring the car round as she knew it would take him at least 30 minutes to drive down from the joint he normally hung out while waiting for her everyday.
She replied some last minute emails and made her itinerary for the next day. She had to be in Port-Harcourt in the morning and be back in Lagos before 2pm for a meeting with Standard Chartered. It would be another hectic day and she was looking forward to it. The restless spirit in her was made for this fast paced life and as each day passed, she was a day closer to the inevitable real housewives of Kano that she would be forced to star in.
She shuddered at the thought as she took out her flash drive from her desktop, packed up her MacBook, phones and pack of cigarette and stuffed them all in her black patent Dior bag.
As she walked out of her office, she noticed that some people were still in the office and stuck her head in their offices to tell them goodnight.
'How do your wives cope with you being at work this late?' she said to Wale and Wonu who had not even noticed her as their faces were so close to the computer screens.
'They cope just fine' said Wonu
'Infact they prefer it this way. They can spend all the money and time they want without us spoiling their time' said Wale
'If I could stay longer hours and make more money for Bunmi, she would love me more' said Wonu, never taking his eyes off the screen.
'Bad husbands' said Nafisat with a smile. 'Remind oga that I will be out of the office tomorrow morning even though he'll still call me to find out where I am'
As she bade them goodnight and walked to the elevator, she remembered how much they detested her when she first arrived. She was the spoilt 'big man's daughter' who certainly did not need a job and somehow got a big office all to herself. But time had taken them from enemies to colleagues and now friends.
As she walked to the car park she greeted the security guards who all knew her as the hausa girl who got dropped off and picked up in a black Mercedes by a driver and an aide.
During her first days in Lagos, she would throw massive fits every time she was ready and the driver was no where to be found. Her drivers and aides in Kano never dared to keep her waiting. But in Lagos, everyone had their own agenda and after firing 5 drivers, she went back to Mr Segun who had been her uncle's driver for many years.
'Good evening Mr Segun' she said as she climbed into the back seat.
'Good evening my daughter' said Mr Segun in his usual cheery manner. 'You have made plenty money for your ogas abi?'
'We have oh, we hope they dash us some' said Nafisat
'My daughter, you see the problem with this country really started in 1966 when........' Mr Segun started as she zoned out. He was one of those people that could talk for hours with hardly any response and would be content to just have someone listen.
It was not a long drive from V.I to Ikoyi where Nafisat stayed with her uncle and his family, but with the Lagos traffic, it would always take at least 45 minutes. After several accidents attempting to drive, she had resigned to being driven. Lagos driving was really not the same as driving in the U.S, Kano or Abuja. It wasn't like any of the many countries she had visited to be honest.
As they crawled closer to Ikoyi, lights getting brighter and the hustle slowly wearing down for the day, Nafisat began to doze off.
The sound of Mr Segun pressing the car horn at the gate of the massive White house in Parkview woke her up with a startle. She did not notice the silver convertible mercedes that was parked outside her house as she gathered her things from the car and collected the keys. She walked past the dozen or so cars that were parked across the compound, which changed so often that she had stopped trying to keep up, and took off her shoes as she walked past the pool to go in through the back door. The chef was in the kitchen watching African Magic Hausa.
'Ina Wuni? Ya ya Aiki yau? said the chef
'Alhamdullilahi' she replied to his usual enquiries of how her day went. She scurried past him before he started fussing over what she would have for dinner, knowing very well she had eaten out. He was mumbling something as she walked past the massive main living room through the corridors to her room. Then she heard someone from behind her say 'Hey Nafi' and she was so startled she dropped her shoes and laptop which she had been balancing in her right hand as she rummaged through her handbag trying to find her room keys.
She turned round sharply more in fear of knowing who it was than it being a stranger.
'Bayo, how did you get in here?' said Nafisat knowing the answer to her question as she bent to pick up her laptop and keys. There was too much security at the gate for anyone who was not well known to get in.
'oh you know, I flew on the broom Harry lent me' said Bayo in his usual dry British sarcasm. He always had a witty comment ready, combined with his English private school accent, he could drive her up the wall.
'I meant what are you doing here?' replied Nafisat still surprised.
'Well since I know all your family are in Abuja at the moment, I seized the opportunity to see your chef to discuss how exciting African Magic Hausa is' he replied even more sarcastically.
'You have not been picking my phone calls Nafi, it was getting tiring so I decided it would be better to just show up'
'Oh you figured that all by yourself?' she replied as sarcastically she could
He chuckled at her attempt and replied, 'Yes, I did actually'
As she walked upstairs, towards her room, he followed her and grabbed her laptop and shoes from her. She put her keys in her door and stopped him as he attempted to follow her into her room.
'Really?' he asked
'Yes really' she replied ' Please wait for me in the living room'
He handed her her things and walked backwards.
She shut the door and swore under her breath. May Allah save me from the temptation embodied in this boy. Amin.
As she changed out of her work dress, into a loose fitting traditional abbaya, she took her hair out of her head scarf and let her long hair fall over her shoulders. Culturally men not related to her were not supposed to see her hair, but there was no part of her body Bayo had not seen, touched and kissed. She shuddered at the thought as she walked out barefoot downstairs to meet him, he was flicking through his IPhone. Bayo was absolutely addicted to his phone.
He turned back as he heard her footsteps draw closer and tried to hide his smile. He was mesmerised by her, and anyone could see it. Unlike her, Bayo was not great at hiding how he felt, he was an open book.
'How many of these Arabian dresses do you have?' he asked with mocking curiosity
'Alot less than the number of pocket squares that you own. But yes, I have a bunch, my aunt brings them in from Dubai' she replied
'They look good on you, but then again most things do' he replied
'Why are you here?' she snapped back. She had always found his flattery and compliments annoying. She knew she was beautiful, this had been drummed into her head since she was 6. Telling her how much, was never going to get anyone any favours with her.
'Like I said, you weren't picking my phone calls' He replied
'That is probably because you have a girlfriend' she replied curtly
'But you have a fiancé?' he answered
'You always knew this, you on the other hand took it upon yourself to lie to me' she replied her temper starting to rage
'I never lied to you Nafi, you never asked me....'
Don't pull that lawyer crap on me, you know as well as I do that an omission is a lie' she snapped back
'I don't understand why you are getting upset, you made it clear you didn't want anything serious, that you just wanted to have fun.....' he replied calmly
'Get out!' she snapped as she got up from her chair
'Nafy, aren't you being a bit hypocritical, why is it ok for you to be in a relationship, but it's not ok for me to be? So you want me all to yourself but I have no right to want the same from you....?'
She knew she had no right to be, but she was really mad at him. She had been with different type of men, but none quite like Bayo. That was what unnerved her about him. She was really good at predicting men, and as predictable as this was, she was still really hurt. And that pissed her off.
The fact that he was speaking so rationally and calmly also pissed her off. It was always like this when they were together. She would start to get angry over something little, he would be calm and rational, and his rationality would tick her off even more, causing her to erupt like a volcano. After which she would usually calm down and regret her outburst. This was another reason she had stopped driving in Lagos, having a temper when dealing with taxi, bus and okada riders never really ends well.
He also knew this and would sometimes wind her up just to see her eyes widen, her normally soft voice get high pitched, her normally polished English polluted with curse words, ending with her cursing in Hausa.
'That's not the point and you know it' Nafisat replied angrily. 'You LIED to me by NOT telling me you have a girlfriend, I do not enjoy sleeping with other people's boyfriends. Give me some respect'
'Oh, and you think I planned this? Trust me, I don't go about scheming to sleep with people's fiancés either' he replied coldly
'Why weren't you honest with me the way I was with you? Do you think I want people talking shit about me? You know my situation, I don't need this drama.' said Nafisat
'I am sorry I didn't mention it at the beginning Nafy. I should have' he said calmly but with no remorse.
'Well you didn't. I have to go to bed now, early start tomorrow. I am sure you can let yourself out seeing as you let yourself in, Goodnight' she replied rather dramatically as she walked back upstairs.
He watched her go, shook his head slowly and headed back to his car. The security men were expecting him to come out smiling like he usually did as he snuck out the house late at night. This usually meant a generous tip for them and would guarantee easy entry for his next nightly visit. Tonight was not so lucky.
'Oga goodnight oh, Sai Gobe ko?' asked Ali
He replied with a grunt and walked out. It had not been a good day.
Nafisat watched him from her window as he walked out of the gate, into his car and as he drove off, his usually loud speakers were not on and she knew he was angry.
'What right did he have to be angry?' she asked herself. She hissed and told herself that all men were useless. She got ready for bed, the whole time knowing that she was starting to catch feelings for Bayo.
As Bayo drove along Bourdillion at 100km an hour listening to the radio, he knew he was in way over his head. He had many weaknesses, alcohol, cars, cigarettes, weed, and women. He was the text book definition of a 'bad boy' or as City people magazine had eloquently put it, an IBB- Island Big Boy. His excesses had however never interfered with his work and his friends hated him for that. He graduated with a 1st class from Cambridge and a 2.1 from Law school, a fact that he let anyone who tried to challenge him know. He worked as an investment banker in London for 3 years before the recession hit, earning himself 6 figures in bonuses which he mostly
blew on cars, alcohol, partying and an over priced penthouse apartment.
He was extremely intelligent and had felt he understood women as best as could be. But Nafisat was an exception to every rule. She could be extremely religious and at the same time as wild as any of the Russian girls he had dated. She could be loving and sweet but could become a raging canon ball in a split second. But more than he anything, she never seemed impressed by anything he did or said. This was new to him.
Bayo was not particularly good looking, but he was tall, dark with broad shoulders so could be easily noticed. He always wore glasses as his eyesight was terrible. He had an active social circle including people from very different social backgrounds as he had a very humble beginnings. His father had been a Professor of Law at the University of Lagos for many years before his best friend got appointed as the governor of Lagos. He quit teaching to be his lawyer and became extremely wealthy through a number of shady deals. His father had seen first hand how fickle money was, as a lot of his friends had gone from being extremely wealthy to being in debt! And this extravagant lifestyle manifested in Bayo's character. He spent money with no care for tomorrow and this lead to constant friction with his dad who had promised to disinherit him.
As he got closer to his house he saw that the security guards were just closing the gates. This meant his father just got in from Shagamu and also meant there would be a fight. He had left the office early to pursue some of his 'side hustles' while his dad had instructed him to oversee meeting on a telecommunications merger. The meetings were pointless because he had no say over any decisions being made, but his father threw a fit every time he missed one. His side deal had not clicked and his dad was about to throw a fit so a bad day was about to get even worse.
'Good evening sir' he said to his dad as he walked into the living room.
His dad turned to look at him, gave him a dirty look and ignored him. This was to be expected. He walked towards the room counting the steps till he would call out.
'Bayo wan bi bayi' his dad called him. He would always switch to Yoruba when he was angry or excited, but stuck to speaking like a Professor every other time.
'This will be the last time you will disobey my instructions with such opulence. Your belligerence will not be tolerated by me anymore. So ti gbo mi?' barked his father
Normally, he would walk away but today was not one of those days.
'I told you that I had a meeting with a friend about the website launch. I don't understand why you want me at these meetings anyway, you will still make them all come back to go through it again in minute details and micro-manage every aspect...'
'Omo Ale ni e' he shouted angrily meaning You bastard! How dare you speak to me like this in my own house? You think you know everything abi? He started with the endless rhetorical questions.
Bayo was fed up and started to walk away. His father, although old was still very agile and pulled him back.
'Dont you ever walk away when I am talking to you. I gave birth to you and you cannot give birth to me' he said in a Yoruba proverb.
Bayo stared at him, wanting to punch him in the face really badly. But he knew his mum would disapprove so he yanked his hand off and walked away, damning the consequences.
His dad watched him walk away and he knew he would not let this act go for a long time.
As he walked into his room, his phone started ringing. Without looking at the screen he knew it was Moyin. She had rang about 4 times already tonight and he knew he would have to speak to her soon to avoid her showing up unannounced to his house or office. She did this periodically to 'surprise him' but they both knew it was her way of keeping tabs on him.
He picked up and said 'Hey Em'
'I have called you four times already, why haven't you returned any of my calls?' Moyin started in her high pitched voice. She spoke really fast as she felt it got her point across a lot faster, but to most people made her incomprehensible.
'I have had a hectic day' he replied tiredly
'So have I Bayo, heck everyone in Lagos has a hectic day every day, it still doesn't stop them from calling someone they claim to be dating. I don't understand what's going on with you lately.......' Moyin said, braced for an argument
'Does everyone want to have a go at me tonight? I really cannot be bothered to go into this right now with you. Lets talk tomorrow. Goodnight Em' said Bayo.
As he hit the end button on his IPhone he heard her saying 'Dont you dare....'
He would pay for all these arguments tomorrow. As he got changed to go to bed, the only argument he replayed in his head over and over was that with Naffy.
He actually did not think that she would be so upset. She usually acted like she was made of steel. This was not the reason he had not told her about Moyin though. They had a good thing going, and he was scared that if she found out she would end it. Everything had to be on her times. He was intrigued to let a woman call the shots all the time.
As he got into bed, he checked his phone one last time to see if she had sent him any messages. It beeped from Moyin's pings but as was expected none from Naffy. As he dozed off, he knew he had caught serious feelings for Naffy.