tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90865909959279162952024-03-19T09:48:46.826+01:00Naija DaydreamerRandom thoughts of a dreamer......miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.comBlogger214125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-85726315783499404062016-12-08T12:25:00.001+01:002016-12-08T12:30:55.658+01:0010 years without you...Dear Bisola,<br />
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I cannot believe that yesterday has been ten years since you left us. I still remember how I felt on learning that you weren't going to be here anymore. I was in my room in Nixon court in Leicester when Dad called me to to abruptly break it to me. In fact, I always remember the day you left as the 10th because you had been buried a few days before they made the call.<br />
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I always wished I got a chance to say a proper goodbye. Our last conversation was a regular one other than the fact that you had been a bit ill. I remember you telling me that Arif had started driving and had taken the car around the hospital and you were all excited and scared at the same time. Regular conversation, no inclination that it would be our last.<br />
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I also remember the last time we spent time together. It has made me believe firmly that nothing happens by accident. For some reason, the boys were not able to come to the U.S for the summer holidays. Only you and I spent that time together, in New York, Maryland and then London. It was the longest time we had spent together, just the two of us. I don't remember all the details except us laughing at our Uncle Shola and asking <i>which kind of uncle is this that is so playful?</i> I remember us bumping to Nelly Furtado's song <i>Mysterious Girl</i> in his car and loving it. He would then switch it to Sunny Ade or Wasiu and we would squeal in frustration at him acting "old". It was the summer we put to bed the debate about who was taller as you already towered over me. Nothing changed in this respect as the boys are both taller and I never grew beyond that height even after all the beans I ate! We literally had no worries in the world. I don't remember feeling so free since that summer.<br />
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Your departure leaped me into adulthood much sooner than I could have imagined. I realise now that you never truly get over loosing someone that you love. Or maybe ten years is too soon to get over it. I will let you know if I am over it in another 10 years if I am still here. Every time I see people your age it makes me sad at all the things you could have achieved. Your friend Lola is getting married this month and I know it is not easy for Mum to help organise it (especially as she wants me to be married already too, but that is a story for another day!). I randomly burst into tears sometimes when I see someone that looks like you, or reminds me of you in the most fleeting way. I especially feel a hole when I see sisters, because that is a gap that no one can ever fill in my life.<br />
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But all in all, I think your departure has made me more eager to live my life in the most fulfilled way possible. I try to be a good person, to have fun, to smile and enjoy each moment. I appreciate everyday my loved ones are alive and healthy. This year has been rough for me emotionally but the good news is that I get to meet the Queen of England for my work with Sickle cell! I will send her your regards!<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">I miss you my darling sister. I pray for you my dear Bisola. I love you. </span></div>
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miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-61034230458637415942016-02-19T09:54:00.002+01:002016-02-19T09:54:25.060+01:0028 things I learnt about myself turning 28!<div class="p1">
Growing old is so underrated! We spend so much time worshipping youth and I wonder why because I love growing old. Yes it has its challenges, but so does being young. I've always sort of been that person that likes the age I'm in at each moment. Yes I get nostalgic about the carefreeness and lack of responsibility that I now lack, but certainly not to the extent of wishing I was younger. Maybe when I hit my 30s I will feel differently. </div>
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The best part of growing old for me, other than the fact that I truly didn't think I would live this long, is introspection. I'm a lot more self aware and the older I get, the happier I am with who I'm becoming. I know what I like, and I know what I do not like, although some things swing in between both quite rapidly!</div>
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So here are 28 things I've learnt/reinforced over the last year about myself and life in general:</div>
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<li class="li1">My mother is my greatest gift. She's my friend, cheerleader, biggest fan, motivator, health, financial, fashion and life adviser. I talk to her everyday and find that I'm becoming a better person by listening to her. Mothers really do know best. </li>
<li class="li1">I've finally discovered my passion. I always thought it was writing, which I still love, but it requires more self-motivation than I can garner consistently. Working with SCAF, raising awareness about sickle cell and helping SC warriors gives me purpose in life. </li>
<li class="li1">I'm consistent in my inconsistency. </li>
<li class="li1">I've learnt that people can carry their insecurities for so long that it permanently alters their personality. Accepting this is the key to loving the most flawed people. It's helped me love my dad more. </li>
<li class="li1">It's so important to let people grow and fight their own battles in life. No matter what decisions you hope people will take, don't encourage them to take them based on your preferences or principles. Just support them in theirs. Air your reservations no doubt, but aim to be their cheerleader and not their coach. I've learned this watching my brothers grow into men. </li>
<li class="li1">Check in on old friends. The ones you used to be 5 and 6 with but now lives on the other side of the world or who lives in the same town but you are both too busy "adulting". Send a message or heck give them a call. Yes a 10 minute call won't kill you. And you might just make their day or vice versa. </li>
<li class="li1">Your body is the vehicle of your life. Take care of yourself because at this age, no one else (except mother maybe) can care for you as well. Take care of your health, hair, skin, teeth etc Stay active and eat well. </li>
<li class="li1">No person is all bad. I try not to focus on others' flaws. Good people are capable of bad things and bad people are capable of wonderful things. </li>
<li class="li1">Ask a lot of questions. I learn so much from listening. Anything I'm saying, I already know, so listening is learning. </li>
<li class="li1">Travelling/Exploring is the best way to broaden your mind. Moving to Lagos has taught me so much, I cannot even begin to quantify. </li>
<li class="li1">Adapt. Feel free to moan about change like we all do, but adapt quickly. Best way to thrive. One day you're driving a new car, next day you don't have a car at all. Getting fired last year taught me alot about how important it is to adapt gracefully to every situation you're handed. </li>
<li class="li1">Drink lots of water. </li>
<li class="li1">Twitter is for disgruntled, intelligent, animated and disillusioned people like myself and I love it! </li>
<li class="li1">The best part about having money is the freedom it brings. Being broke leaves you with no choice, you always go with the smallest, slowest and cheapest option. </li>
<li class="li1">But there's no amount of money that can buy you peace of mind and happiness. I learnt that from my old boss. </li>
<li class="li1">You never get over loosing someone you love. You just live with it but that part of your heart is permanently broken. I still miss my sister everyday. </li>
<li class="li1">People can change. They just have to want to bad enough. And some cheerleading helps. </li>
<li class="li1">People can also change for the worse. But never sit around for someone to change. It's the most frustrating thing. </li>
<li class="li1">I love music, movies and art. </li>
<li class="li1">And I love food! A lot! </li>
<li class="li1">I'm learning to enjoy my own company. I'm still learning though. I much prefer being with people a lot more than I like being alone. With this I'm also learning to be self reliant. </li>
<li class="li1">It's good to talk to God about little things too. Not just job and health issues but like 'God, I hope that Mango jacket goes on Sale'. Mum taught me that nothing is too small to ask direction for. </li>
<li class="li1">Sleep is essential. Watching two of my friends struggle with various types of insomnia has opened my eyes to how easy it is to take for granted something someone else is so desperately praying for. </li>
<li class="li1">Loving someone is the easy part. Staying committed is the difficult bit. Fighting the flight instinct is something I struggle with because I have a restless spirit. </li>
<li class="li1">Patience pays off sometimes. Patience doesn't pay off other times. Telling when to go from the first to the second, or vice versa in my case, is something I'm still learning. </li>
<li class="li1">My maternal instincts are starting to kick in! Never thought the day would come when I would say I'm looking forward to having my own kids. Can't wait to ridicule them with silly outfits and forced dancing purely for my entertainment!</li>
<li class="li1">I'm also not averse to settling down with one man anymore. I like my man now so hopefully I don't give up. </li>
<li class="li1">Stay away from things that bring you negative energy or the ugly sides of you. I left Instagram last year because I found it was making me envious of peoples' real or imagined successes, holidays, promotions, marriage, babies etc! I've never been an envious person and since this was bringing it out of me, I ran. Do the same in every aspect of your life. Only ++++++++ surround me! </li>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Looking forward to next year Insha Allah so I can hopefully have learned/reinforced 29 more things! </div>
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xoxo</div>
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Miss B!<br />
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miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-80037296993982058742015-08-02T16:52:00.001+01:002015-08-03T08:20:53.121+01:00Sunday Brunch in Lagos <div dir="ltr">
Hey hey,</div>
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So I moved to Lagos 3 weeks ago for work and have a ton of stories to tell you already. Lagos is a lot of things, good and bad, but it is unquestionably FUN! I love going out to dine and Lagos is a haven for foodies like me! There are dozens of cafes, bars, restaurants, hotels, bukkas and joints everywhere and I intend to eat and drink my way through as many as I can while I'm here with my foodie sidekick Dammy! <br />
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I discovered the blog <a href="http://http//eatdrinklagos.com/">Eat.Drink.Lagos</a> and it is awesome! I read their reviews before I go to places and I love their wit and humour in writing!<br />
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Last Sunday we went for Brunch at <a href="http://casalydia.com/thefoundry/index.html">The Foundry</a> (No 19, Glover Road, Ikoyi, Lagos Nigeria +234-817-200-1143 | +234-817-200-1152).</div>
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Like most Lagos places I have been to, it was inconspicuous and there was no large sign. The decor is nice and under stated and it has an American diner feel. We were sat near the cafe and kitchen and I could see how the food and drinks were being made, which I liked. The waiter was friendly and attentive. <br />
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I had the American breakfast which had scrambled eggs, pancakes, sausages. Because I don't eat bacon, I had extra sausages. Dammy had toast and nigerian scrambled eggs i.e with pepper. The pancakes were not the best, I make better at home. But the eggs were light and fluffy and the sausages were Nigerian made ones that tasted like flavoured beef which I loved. To drink, I had the chai latte and cupaccino and they were both strong and delicious!<br />
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Breakfast ranges from N2500-N4000 which from my Abuja standards seemed steep, but I am learning that eating out in Lagos is alot pricier! </div>
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Today I went to Bistro 7 for Brunch with a few friends. (273 Kofo Abayomi St, Victoria Island). It is also quite difficult to locate but once inside it was worth our getting lost. The decor is really nice and modern, and it was quite packed. They have these large white menus which I liked and a wide variety which were all available.<br />
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I had the Breakfast platter which had one (as in a single) pancake, toast, chicken sausages, hashbrowns and eggs. I ordered a banana pancake which was warm and delicious, and the scrambled eggs were perfect. However, the sausages were actually frankfurters and the hash browns were oily and soggy.To drink I had a masala chai latte which was perfect.</div>
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The let down was the service was really poor. I don't know if it was because they had quite a full house, but they were so distracted and not particularly friendly. I asked for no bacon or toast and he brought both. The food took almost an hour to come out, we had all finished our drinks well before it arrived. They pacified us with some nice warm bread which was complimentary but we were all so hungry that it didn't help. <br />
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My friends had the pizza, which was fair, a seafood pasta which was well seasoned, and eggs benedict which was also nice. </div>
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Breakfast costs between N3500-N4500 and drinks about N1000 so it is not cheap. I would go back though, but maybe at a less crowded time in the hope of a better service! </div>
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That's it for today folks! I will bring you more stories from my Lagos shenanigans as I go along! Hopefully my will to blog has been revitalized!<br />
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Xoxo<br />
Miss <u>B</u></div>
miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-86970194592973491302015-07-07T12:54:00.000+01:002015-07-07T13:02:03.604+01:00Sickle Cell and other StoriesHey all,<br />
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I have figured out why it is so difficult for me to blog these days: Twitter!</div>
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It is called micro-blogging for a reason. It allows me to articulate all my thoughts instantly in 140 characters and it is quite frankly my favourite social media platform. But I will try not to let it affect my blogging (2 posts already this year :-)) anymore. Anyway you can follow my twitter ramblings @naijadaydreamer</div>
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In other news, I am sure you all know that I am passionate about Sickle Cell Disease. It is something that affects me personally and alot of my close friends and family members. Sickle Cell is not a joke, it has moments when it seems like the worst thing in the world. I have seen it create untold difficulties and hardship for people, and as much as it makes me feel truly blessed that I have had it easy, it always saddens me to see others go through pain.</div>
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I joined the Sickle Cell Aid Foundation (@scaf_nigeria) in Law school in 2011 and it has given me the opportunity to make a difference in my own small way to raising awareness about sickle cell. I have gotten the opportunity to meet so many people living with sickle cell and everyone has their own story of their daily struggles. The one thing they all have in common is that it makes them stronger in character. There is something about being weaker physically that makes people more resolute mentally. </div>
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Unfortunately, we lost one of our members Awele a few weeks ago and it was heart breaking. I am only able to write about it now, but it affected me alot more than I was willing to admit because that could easily have been anyone of us. Awele was such a vivacious and greatly loved person and she had so many complications from sickle cell but never let it wear her down. She was very vocal about her battles and eager to raise awareness about it. She won an award for capturing her struggles with sickle cell in a documentary called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2EnRDx0zUBQ">Awele's Diary</a>. I attended her funeral in London, which happened to be my first funeral, and it was so tough emotionally to watch another person I cared about loose the fight to sickle cell.<br />
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But it ultimately renewed my faith and reenforced the importance of doing something worth while with your life while we have the chance. We sometimes get so caught up with daily life and forget to actually be passionate about something. Sickle Cell is my passion, and whenever I leave the world, I hope to have left my mark in advocating for it in my own small way.</div>
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To mark World Sickle Cell Day 2015, we had an awareness walk in Awele's memory as well as a blood drive. The founder of SCAF was recently honoured by the Queen of England and David Cameron for being a Young Achiever and it has really validated our work and given us the drive to keep up our advocacy in our own little way.</div>
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To every sickle cell warrior, family, friends and supporters of people with sickle cell, we know your pain and we wont stop working until every one does! </div>
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RIP Awele.</div>
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xoxo</div>
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Miss B</div>
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miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-87068780754562919732015-04-22T22:27:00.001+01:002015-04-22T22:27:07.197+01:00Growing Up Is...Hello world,<br />
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My last blog post was on Monday the 12th of August 2013. Alot has happened but I have decided to start writing again. I will be back to my fiction and short stories but today, let me start with my ramblings so here goes:<br />
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Growing up is ridiculously hard work. Nothing and no one prepares you for how hard it is. The educational system is designed in a way that hard work merits rewards, usually in short periods of time with few other elements being measured. You go to class, listen to your teacher, do your homework, study for your exams and you get a grade usually tantamount to the efforts you put in and or your talents.<br />
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Your grade determines your position in class, which determines if you will move on to the next year. If you get good grades you are often praised by your teachers, peers and family, assuring you that your effort/talent alone will take you far in life.</div>
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This starts from how we are taught as kids in kindergarten. It is reinforced that good behaviour gets you sweets as a reward and misbehaving gets you punished, also with almost instant consequences for all actions. This is fair and just.</div>
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Adult life is anything but just. There are so many other factors that determines rewards in adult life. Money, family, friends, social class, relationships, level of education, determination, saviness, social skills, cunning and a great deal of luck.</div>
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There are books on how to be successful in life that explore most of the major factors. I am not a fan of self help books as I find them patronising. Offering generalized advice to a non-specific group of people seems redundant on its face. The few I have perused emphasize determination, hardwork, taking risks etc which are key components of success in any field.</div>
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I much prefer reading biographies which tell a person's success story from a very individual perspective. They often detail their rise as well as their falls including bumps in the road. But even these rarely assign the importance of luck in people's life.</div>
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Simply being in the right place at the right time has done more for creating success than most people would care to admit, or could even contemplate. Knowing the right person who can refer you for a role, or refer your company to a client is the cornerstone of building yourself or your business. The saying "Your network is your net-worth" doesn't take into consideration how much luck plays in meeting the people that make up your network.</div>
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Success in personal relationships more than any human endeavour is not based on the quality of a person's character. Too often we see genuinely beautiful people ending up with horrid friends, family and life partners. One's love, devotion, and commitment to another will not automatically be reciprocated even though they work as hard at the relationship as they possibly can.</div>
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Being African, most things have a religious explanation. Luck is often referred to as "finding favour" or "God blessing your hustle" while avoiding negativity that can "Pour sand sand in your garri".</div>
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This is not to take away from hard work and being a good person. They are traits that often bring a type of contentment that in itself can be a reward. But they do not impact on success as much as we are brought up to believe it does. You don't get what you deserve in life simply by following the prescribed path. That is why the hereafter exists in all religions. To keep you motivated that doing the right thing will yield the desired effects, if not now then maybe after you die.</div>
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xoxo</div>
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Miss B</div>
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P.s- Thank you Omotee for pushing and pushing me until I wrote this. You are a true friend.</div>
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miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-2763050753909359572013-08-12T15:47:00.000+01:002013-10-26T12:46:56.238+01:00Palmgroove Letters Part 9Nafisat twirled around in her office chair slowly, and in precise angles, swinging her black Jimmy Choo pumps from her toes and wondering where she could get suya so late on the island.<br />
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It was 11.15pm and she was still at her desk, with the bright lights of various Lagos businesses still shining bright. The rain was pouring down outside and there were intermittent sounds of thunder, immediately drowned by the sounds of hundreds of generators growling to power the business hub of Nigeria. She looked out of the window, watching the raindrops fall slowly down the window of the 18th floor of Gloval towers. The window was ajar and the strong winds blew little drops of rain into her office, bringing the sweet smell of moisture and the salty taste of the Atlantic ocean. </div>
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Her work life was intact, she had just submitted the preliminary report on the deal with the Chinese investors brokered by her uncle, and she was due to travel to Beijing with her boss to start the first round of negotiations. Nafisat had left the office no later than midnight over the past three weeks trying to get all the background financial information to get the negotiations going. She loved every minute of it, not just because of the excitement of starting her first project from the initial stage, but also because it had distracted her from her catastrophic love life.</div>
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It had been over three weeks since she wrote the letter to Bayo and she had not heard a word back from him. Although she had emphatically said that it was the end of their relationship, she was still hurt that he had given up so easily. She missed him dearly and during boring meetings she sketched his face on her note pad, scared that she was forgetting what he looked like. </div>
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She wished she could capture his smell, the Tom Ford smell mixed with old spice shower gel. She had deleted his number and messages from her phone so she would not be tempted to call him. They had no friends in common and with her current work schedule the chances of running into him were very slim. </div>
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More surprising however was the fact that Nuhu had not contacted her either. Since she had walked out on him, neither him nor Farida had called her or sent her so much as an apology. She initially figured they were happy living out their fantasy and would eventually drive themselves crazy. Both their personalities were too strong to co-exist for a long time. </div>
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As the days turned into weeks, it dawned on her one morning in the shower that she had been replaced. She had gone through several stages of feelings. Her initial anger had worn off and had been replaced with hurt and disappointment. She had not spoken to anyone about it and the one person she usually confided in was the reason behind her problem.</div>
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Wonu walked into her office as she was lost in her thoughts and jerked her back into reality. </div>
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“Naf, we are ordering indomie from the mallam downstairs, would you like some?”</div>
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“You are God-sent, I am starving.” She replied </div>
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"Alright then coming right up” he said as he picked up his phone to place the order</div>
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“Have you figured out how to use the 3d graphs software?” he asked, taking a seat opposite hers and stretching out his whole body, stiff from sitting in one position for hours </div>
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“Yes, thank you so much for showing me. I am almost done. Why are you still here anyway? Doesn’t your wife nag you about your late nights?” Asked Nafisat</div>
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“She’s stopped nagging me about anything long time ago. She understands that I need to put in work in order to be able to afford the life we both want. Have you seen the rate of college fees lately? Assuming the rate of inflation remains stable for the next 20 years, our kids will need millions of naira to even get the most basic degree. Besides, I bet you she is still up, working herself. Need to give her a call now actually, excuse me Naffy” said Wonu as he stepped out of her office to place the call. </div>
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Nafisat smiled at how cute he was, and marvelled at their unity. She was claustrophobic and she couldn’t contemplate living in the same house with her husband for years without plotting his murder. She needed someone like Nuhu who travelled often to give her plenty of weeks off the relationship. She flashed back to when they first started dating. </div>
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He was in University in Nottingham, and would come over to New York to see her every other month, or she would come to spend her vacations with him in his family’s Hyde Park home. The first time they had been in the same country had been ten months ago when she had moved back to Nigeria. This marked the beginning of the end of their relationship. </div>
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Although they were not in the same city, the whole country seemed too small for the both of them. They fought incessantly and disagreed on almost everything. He had moved back a year before her, and had changed. He was bossy, misogynistic and extremely arrogant. He had a sense of entitlement, and actually believed he was better than others. He disliked non-hausa people and felt his family belonged permanently in the ruling class. She tried to let him know several times that things had changed, and just because his family had ruled for decades, did not mean they could continue to exploit their people. Every time she criticised his view on something, he would get offended and warn her to drop her western ideas.</div>
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She jumped suddenly at Wonu’s gentle touch. Her chair had been facing the window, lost in counting the droplets of rain sliding down the window. She twirled her chair around to watch him facing her. </div>
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‘Wow, I hope its not Nonso’s graphs that’s got you this lost.’ said Wonu, stretching out a little plastic bag to her
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‘Oooooo yesss please! This smells divine.’ Said Nafisat as she took off the foil cover smiling at the steaming noodles, brightly coloured with diced peppers, onions, chicken and sweet corn. She wiped her fork and laid a napkin on her table and carefully began to pick out the onions at the surface.
They both ate in silence, loading up on the carbohydrates they had burned during the day. Nafisat finished first, with a stack of onions neatly arranged on her serviette and a huge smile on her face.
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‘You look like you had a makeover, food is glorious’ said Wonu chuckling at her
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‘Oh boy, hunger won kee person’ said Nafisat</div>
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‘Hahahahahahahahaha! Please say that again. Oh my God, I think I need to record that’ said Wonu </div>
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‘Whatever dude, Mr Segun says my broken English is improving. Infact, we listen to Wazobia fm in the mornings now’
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Well my dear, you still have a long way to go. Just a little pointer, only Bourgeois people call it Broken English’ </div>
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'Na you sabi. Na God dey tear ticket’ said Nafisat, laughing at herself
‘So, why haven’t you gone home either? Its a Friday and you are technically still a corper, its not like you can get fired.’ </div>
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‘Honestly, I don’t have that much to go home to. I live in my uncle’s huge empty house and I don’t really have a lot of friends here. If I go home, it’ll be to paint or to sleep. I should probably pick up some hobbies. Monitoring the stock markets doesn’t count as a hobby right?’ </div>
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‘Ermm let me check my book of cool, nope nope I was right, that is in the book of losers.’ Said Wonu with a sarcastic drawl. ‘What about the love life? I mean you are stunning, you must be chasing them away’ he said matter-of-factly
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‘Again, honestly, it seemed like I was about a month ago. But right now, I could not be more alone’ said Nafisat<br />
‘I find that really hard to believe. But assuming, without conceding, that you are alone, what have you tried to do to amend the situation. I mean yes you are gorgeous, but you need to mingle. How else do you plan to meet someone? Or is it a Northern thing? How do y’all meet people? Said Wonu </div>
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‘I really don’t think I can be an authority on anything Northern. I could ask my mum for you though’ she said with a chuckle </div>
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‘Ok then, you should come for a party with me and my wife on Saturday. Don’t worry no one will be speaking broken, so you can fit right in.’ said Wonu. </div>
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'I am socially awkward. I don’t do well with small talk to strangers Wonu’ she said </div>
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'That explains why we all disliked you when you first started’ he replied </div>
<div>
<br />
‘Haha I am not surprised. A corper that bags a huge office with a great view to herself is never going to be popular’ said Nafisat </div>
<div>
<br />
‘Well its hard to be mad at you because you work so hard. I must confess I have always had this stereotype about you Hausas as being lazy. Especially the women’ said Wonu honestly </div>
<div>
<br />
'You are not misconceived. Like I said, I am not a good yard stick to measure any stereotype. I love this job, and I will be sad to leave it.’ Said Nafisat </div>
<div>
<br />
'Leave ke? Where are you leaving to?’ asked Wonu in surprise </div>
<div>
<br />
‘Back to Kano. The plan was always to be in Lagos for a year. I doubt I can convince my parents to allow me stay a day longer than my service.’ She said<br />
<br />
‘Really? Have you got a job waiting for you back there?’ asked Wonu curiously<br />
<br />
‘Err well, something like that. I am supposed to be getting married. But I’m not too sure that’s going on anymore’ said Nafisat </div>
<div>
<br />
‘Wow, sounds complicated. Well I hope you find a way to stay. Not sure how Nonso will cope without you on this project.’ Said Wonu </div>
<div>
<br />
‘He always finds a way. Well now that I am full, I am craving my bed’ said Nafisat as she stretched out her whole body. She started her routine of cramping in her Macbook, Ipad and Iphone with their respective cables into her oversize black Prada bag. She walked out with Wonu, to the Elevators and waited in front of the big gold Gloval Oil sign. She hated the corridor and sign because it was ostentatious and over the top.<br />
The walls were gold marble and a small fountain surrounded by fake flowers sat underneath the sign. It reflected the pomposity of the company CEO whom she had only ever met once. He only wore white with gold accessories and personally decorated all his offices.
They got into the elevator and walked to their allocated parking lot to find Mr Segun sitting next to the car with a frown on his face. He did not appreciate her current late nights especially on a Friday as he usually went to visit his family in Ikorodu at the weekends.<br />
‘Oh wow, your driver is still here. Lucky for some’ said Wonu with awe.
Nafisat felt bad that she had kept him so long, especially on a Friday. It was already past midnight and the driver’s lodge was completely empty. He did not even smile at her as he started the car and pulled it towards her. She climbed into the car and said goodnight to Wonu who bade her goodnight, still with fascinated at her luxurious life.
Mr Segun drove her home in silence, not even turning on the radio. She began to nod off during the ride home as she normally did, and his anger softened, she was clearly overworked.<br />
<br />
She tipped him handsomely on arriving home, and this seemed to wipe away his anger. She walked to the back of the brightly lit house, past the light green swimming pool and into the kitchen. The volume of the Hausa movie on in the Kitchen was extremely high in an attempt to drown out the sound of the Generators which were directly behind it. The chef did not hear her walk in and she clicked her heels quietly behind him upstairs to her room. She yawned continuously and couldn’t wait to shower and have a lie in for the whole weekend.<br />
<br />
She pulled out the keys to her room and put it in, but it did not turn as it was already open. She walked in, surprised to see her lights were on. The maid was becoming careless she thought.
She sat on her bed and took off her shoes, massaging her aching feet. She took off her head scarf and let her hair fall down to her shoulders. She ran her hands through her hair closing her eyes momentarily, until she was startled by the sound of the toilet flushing.<br />
<br />
Nafisat jumped up, scared that a robber was in the house. Before she could think of her next move, Farida walked out of her bathroom, drying her hands on the back of her jeans as she always did.
She looked just as surprised to see Nafisat, as if she had not been sitting in her room waiting for her for the past five hours. They stared at each other in complete silence for what seemed like a full minute.<br />
<br />
Farida wore a branded polo top made by one of her designer friends and slim fit jeans. Her clothes clinked to her every curve as always. She wore minimal make up and her hair had full curly extensions. She looked casual but still gorgeous.
Farida seemed once again lost for words, a rare feat for her.<br />
<br />
‘Hi Naf’ said Farida quietly<br />
<br />
‘Hi’ she replied, sitting back down on the bed<br />
<br />
‘You look exhausted. I hope you have eaten’ Farida said with concern<br />
<br />
‘Lets skip the chitchat shall we? Spit it out’ said Nafisat, suddenly wide awake<br />
<br />
‘I really don’t know what to say Naf. I know it sounds cliché, but it honestly just happened.’ Replied Farida more quietly, almost a whisper<br />
<br />
‘Is that it?’ Nafisat replied coldly<br />
<br />
‘I understand that you’re upset Naf. I mean it’s the ultimate betrayal. I am not proud of it but….’<br />
<br />
‘When did it start?’ asked Nafisat quietly<br />
<br />
‘About 5 months ago.’ She replied taking a seat at the opposite edge of her bed. When Nafisat did not reply, Farida continued nervously ‘I was styling his step-mum when he came into her room. I said hello to him, and he ignored me because he thought I was part of her help. You know how rudeness irks me, so I said hello to him again. He nodded a response and didn’t bother looking at me. Once his step mum stepped out of the room, I told him exactly where to shove it. He told me he did not notice me, and apologised. He seemed sincere so we laughed about it. I dressed his step mum a couple of more times because of the First lady’s Conference that was going on, and that’s how we got talking. We exchanged details and it sort of progressed from there.’ Said Farida<br />
<br />
‘Well that’s a great ‘how we met’ story except you skipped the part about him being your best friend’s fiancé’ replied Nafisat sarcastically.<br />
<br />
She thought how proud Bayo would have been of her appropriately timed sarcasm and she momentarily smiled. Farida misinterpreted her smile and sighed.<br />
<br />
‘So when were you planning to elope? Did you feel good making me feel like a fool? Listening to me complain to you about how he had changed and you giving me advice on how to mend our relationship? Remember how I told you that we had not had sex in months, and you told me maybe it was what we needed? Oh wait, remember when he travelled to Paris for work and you were also in Paris for Fashion week, was that also unplanned?’ asked Nafisat looking directly into her eyes, her anger starting to bubble<br />
<br />
‘<i>Walahi ba haka ba</i> Naf. We started off as just friends, we just had a lot in common and….’<br />
<br />
‘Nabil does not have any female friends for a reason. And you don’t have any straight male friends either. You are a slut Farida. You sleep with everyone, from bosses to uncles and teachers. There are no boundaries with you. You hurt people in the process and do not seem to realise that your actions have consequences. I guess its not your fault, after all your mother is a slut who slept with rich married men…’ said Nafisat maliciously<br />
<br />
‘Haba hold up Naf, I hurt you but do not bring my mother into this…’ said Farida, her voice rising from her whispers<br />
<br />
‘Why shouldn’t I? All of a sudden we have boundaries? I will talk to you like the low life prostitute that you are. Your mother is a whore and you are following in her exact path, if you look at it through nature or nurture, the apple doesn’t fall far…’ said Nafisat her voice getting louder in response<br />
<br />
‘You self-centred bitch’ said Farida getting up from the edge of her bed ‘You know what, I am so fed up with your arrogance and self riotousness. You are a fucking hypocrite and I will not sit down and have you belittle me. You have had every single thing in your life handed to you. You have not had to want or struggle for anything, yet you somehow think that you are better than people who have had difficult cards dealt to them and have managed to find a way. You think you are better than me because I have used what I have to achieve my goals? You think my mother is a slut because she was abandoned by my father and chose to stay with a married man who liked her despite her having a child out of wedlock? A man who had enough money to change our lives forever without blinking? A man who cared enough to take care of another man’s child? According to your ‘principles’ she should have chosen instead to be upright and poor right? Let me educate you since you do not know, there is absolutely no dignity in being poor. In wanting everyday, in begging and in perpetual struggle. You cannot even begin to fathom what it is like to have to make the choices that people make. I may not get along with my mother for several other reasons, but don’t you dare call her any names. She is twice the woman you will ever be Nafisat. And for your information, I know that you are sleeping with Bayo. You did not tell me because you did not want to admit to me that you are not as principled as you make out to be. You suddenly realised that all the judgement you have been passing on me applied to you as well because you are a cheat. A lying, hypocritical cheat for that matter.’ Farida busted out her, voice getting louder as she progressed.<br />
<br />
Nafisat stared at her in utter disbelief. She had wanted to hurt Farida with her words, but Farida’s outburst had knocked her out.<br />
<br />
‘Get out of my house Farida, and don’t you ever come back’ replied Nafisat coldly, looking directly into her eyes<br />
<br />
‘Gladly. I am really sorry about Nabil. I genuinely did not set out to hurt you, but I love him and we are going to be together’ said Farida as she picked up her black Prada back to leave the room.<br />
<br />
It was the exact same as Nafisat’s and Nabil had also bought it for her from their trip to Paris.
Farida walked out of the room quickly, and shut the door firmly behind her.<br />
<br />
<br />
Xoxo
Miss B</div>
miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-16445675390068687152013-06-27T16:07:00.002+01:002013-06-27T16:20:27.027+01:00Palmgroove Letters Part 8<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Dear Bayo,</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> I have read your letter over and over and each time I
find something new to make me smile. I have made a game trying to find how many
spelling mistakes there are and I have so far counted 27. Your punctuation also
leaves a lot to be desired. What would Prof say if I showed him this letter?
The money spent on your overpriced education is more than required to start up
most viable businesses. The least you can do is not mix up ‘their’ and
‘there’. I am convinced that you must
have somehow bought your Oxford degree. And don’t you dare hit me with that
Dyslexic excuse. You are simply so spoilt with auto correct that you have
forgotten the art of writing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Like you, there is also a
lot you do not know about me, mostly because I did not give you the opportunity
to. I was brought up to be private and
growing up, my mum scolded us for getting emotional in public or showing
affection to people we did not know. The people we knew were so limited that I
grew up withdrawn and shy, usually interpreted as cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> I also have a plan for my life. I am ambitious
and have a restless spirit. I love my job at the moment and I am great at it.
Given the chance, I could rise to be CEO some day, even my boss knows that I am
a threat to his job. Its marvelling how smart you are and yet you cannot
calculate how much change is owed to you. I on the other hand can solve complex
algorithms in my head in seconds. I probably should have been an engineer, but
my mum thought that the course sounded too intimidating for a girl so I decided
on Economics. That was when I still listened to my mother’s opinions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I see you battle with
your dad regularly and struggle with the burden of trying to be a better man
but secretly trying not to disappoint him. I am also in this constant struggle
with my mother, except ours is a silent war. We do not raise our voices in my
family, do not have confrontations and always put on a show of unity. Left to
my mother, I should have been married three years ago to Nuhu and settled in
Kano with a baby, being a socialite and running a series of small businesses
guaranteed to fail because I do not put in any real commitment into them. My
main job will be a wife and mother ensuring they achieve their dreams. I will
support Nuhu through his political aspirations till he eventually buys himself
an office and I will play the dutiful first lady with a series of charitable
organisations focused on women and children. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Fortunately for me, I
have the most untraditional father, having been raised by a single mother
himself, and he is my rock. I know you think I get my temper from him because
he is a General, but it is the exact opposite. He is gentle, good natured and
always has a smile on his face. He is also extremely disciplined, hardworking
and intelligent. He has only one weakness as far as I know, and that is my
mother. She makes every major decision regarding his career since they have
been married, and he runs everything by her. She knows more about the military
than any civilian should. And no matter how much we do not get along, I know
she is the reason he is so successful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That is part of the
reason I have stuck with Nuhu, because my mum has a way of being right all the
time. He is good for me, known to my family and will always take care of me.
What we have is steady, safe and assured. I respect him and he is the leader in
our relationship. I know he loves me, in his own way. Not the Hollywood type of
love, there are no butterflies or skipped beats with him, it is pragmatic and
realistic. He might take another wife down the line, but I don’t mind because I
have never had him all to myself anyway. I am not sure I want to actually, I
prefer him in small doses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Do you know the ironic
thing about my mother is that she married the love of her life. Her only love
actually. They met while he was on mission in her tiny village which was
plagued with regular rebel fighting where he rescued her and her uncle. She
spoke no English or Hausa actually, only Fulani, and had never left the walls
of her village. He rescued her from what was sure to be a life of abject
poverty and misery and she still worships him for it. But for some reason she
does not seem to think that I could get so lucky to find my knight in shining
armor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Before I met you Bayo I
was also sure this was as good as it gets. I don’t know how we got in this deep
or that it was even possible for one person to stir up so many feelings in me.
I like, respect, admire, loathe and crave you, sometimes all at the same time. Every
time I am with you, time seems to slow down.
I want to lay with you and take mental pictures of your delicate
features over and over again until I have memorised every intricate pore of
your face. I understand the feelings of passion you describe so well because you
stir it up in me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> I have often fantasized about us running away
together, to Monaco or Barbados or Tahiti, somewhere by the beach with a great
view. You could start up a restaurant and I would sit by the beach all day
sketching landscapes and selling it to tourists. We wouldn’t have a lot of
money or nice things, you could definitely not afford your convertible on a
restaurant income, and I would give up most of my heels. But we would be so
drunk on our love, or passion as you say it is, that we would never notice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But as we both know, this
is just a daydream. Even if we decided to follow our naija daydream and be
together, how far could we go? You are a devout Christian, even though you try
to come off as relaxed. I am a muslim, even though according to my brother
Bello, what I practice is not really Islam. Although I appear to have a
non-chalant attitude, I do care about what they feel. As modern as your parents are, they would not
approve of us. My parents, brothers and whole community will reject us whole-heartedly.
We are fighting the world before we even begin. Our culture and language are
also worlds apart. But more importantly, we would both be breaking commitments
we have made to people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Yesterday I found out
that my boyfriend Nuhu has been having an affair with Farida. I like the word
“affair” because it resonates how dramatic the whole escapade felt last night.
I was so upset that I walked for 30 minutes on the side of the motorway until I
got picked up by a stranger called Mr Koffi who took me home. Trust me, no one
was more surprised than me about how the night panned out!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Never in a million years
would I have guessed that Farida would want Nuhu, she does not even like him
because he is egotistical. The few times we have hung out together, Nuhu had
let her know that he thought her career of dressing up rich people was a joke
and she had called him names a lady should not even know. In retrospect, they
do have two important things in common; the love for the finer things and an
ability not to care about what people think about them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I felt hurt at their
betrayal but regardless of this, I will take Nuhu back because we belong
together. I know he will send me extravagant gifts, usually shoes at first, and
when this doesn’t work, he will blackmail me with his mum because he knows I
have a soft spot for her gentle nature. I know that most marriages cannot be
happy. People simply co-exist amicably in order not to grow old alone. Passion
is for liberals like you, I am conservative. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In case I run into you in
Lagos, please do not be surprised if I completely ignore you. I do not know how
to pretend and we can certainly not be friends. Too much has happened between
us to even try.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Thank you Bayo for
allowing me to experience feelings I thought I was not capable of feeling.
Thank you for putting up with my temper and teaching me the benefits of being
friendly. Thank you for giving me a glimpse of a life filled with days longing
for passionate nights. Thank you for being gallant enough to try and rescue me
from my life. I love you for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Your letter can be
classed as a declaration of love. Mine is a farewell. I think we have come to
the end of the road. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">P.s- Thank you for loving
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Pps- I know you were
married to Cynthia. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Lots of Love <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Since I cannot send you a poem, here is a sketch I did of you the day you fell asleep on my rug. I did it in pencil because I did not want to wake you up. </span></div>
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miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-42503636886272325522013-06-14T11:43:00.001+01:002013-06-14T11:43:14.124+01:00Restaurant Review:My Old Dutch<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div>Hello blogworld, <div> As you know I love food, not as much as Jen, but enough for me to class it as a hobby. I love eating out, but in Nigeria it is a very expensive hobby. There are a lot of really great places to try here if one has the means. </div><div><br></div><div>I was in London a few weeks ago and went to this restaurant called My Old Dutch in Holborn. It is a Dutch pancake house that offers a great variety of sweet and savory pancakes as well as salads etc. The pancakes are served on this huge plate and are absolutely delicious and very affordable. (www.myolddutch.com). The restaurant is quaint with minimalist decor and plenty of Dutch influences. </div><div><br></div><div>I had the Savory Smoked Duck pancake which is made of <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">smoked duck breast, mixed sweet pepper, spring onions, mushrooms & hoi sin sauce. For desert I had the American style pancakes with cinnamon, maple syrup and banana. I also tried this sweet strawberry Dutch beer called Fruli. The portions are huge so make sure you come with an apetite as I had to take mine home. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If you are ever in London its definately worth a try. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRSVv0cjc-n3mxDqEje8LYQQ5qkcyTnOabmUPzyX1ea8xPfMV0FcV82qWwvtjMMJDL0HACsBEc3OFpXoHDSV37sPjt-IfVI-XazXkZ4fQOJtba6VlZDYuui78k4_5AkoEIbho3qwGi1c/s640/blogger-image-146575776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRSVv0cjc-n3mxDqEje8LYQQ5qkcyTnOabmUPzyX1ea8xPfMV0FcV82qWwvtjMMJDL0HACsBEc3OFpXoHDSV37sPjt-IfVI-XazXkZ4fQOJtba6VlZDYuui78k4_5AkoEIbho3qwGi1c/s640/blogger-image-146575776.jpg"></a></div></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpzsvvbVlQkE6oTEoO0Sss4uPJ4aTVtrGIR7Syw-cL6xYKW-wMslY423A6zNnggdiD30DHKlPg7AZpIESS1xY_qlT9YKR2vztWO6BANC5C41aHI1KHo7Cch8lqfo7I4i8wKfyPRt-shI/s640/blogger-image-1845604926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpzsvvbVlQkE6oTEoO0Sss4uPJ4aTVtrGIR7Syw-cL6xYKW-wMslY423A6zNnggdiD30DHKlPg7AZpIESS1xY_qlT9YKR2vztWO6BANC5C41aHI1KHo7Cch8lqfo7I4i8wKfyPRt-shI/s640/blogger-image-1845604926.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI4LQVZuirz3aSao37-wBiVro4Br31bDlEFFYdQ1bbr8FQd3Y5lo-5Of4L-32_rAGULlSBLWrD9Kl7N1otd_zhsOpWyQ7emXLdzb910AsCfRHMn6jTvPcSS0oaMR0myKtOZPJL_uD5J70/s640/blogger-image--833642792.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI4LQVZuirz3aSao37-wBiVro4Br31bDlEFFYdQ1bbr8FQd3Y5lo-5Of4L-32_rAGULlSBLWrD9Kl7N1otd_zhsOpWyQ7emXLdzb910AsCfRHMn6jTvPcSS0oaMR0myKtOZPJL_uD5J70/s640/blogger-image--833642792.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64E6KQQjp-7qlLX3Rx9QQLwI4O5Kua9PDvxixDTW5igTtZITxsPZE7juh-NkqYSfbuNJG-beGxAHX9PZLbXNosRFSVjM9EnJjw-JLGIdBuE9eVZXI1xnzQIheQZQSQHZtN1r515ipm6g/s640/blogger-image-436882399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64E6KQQjp-7qlLX3Rx9QQLwI4O5Kua9PDvxixDTW5igTtZITxsPZE7juh-NkqYSfbuNJG-beGxAHX9PZLbXNosRFSVjM9EnJjw-JLGIdBuE9eVZXI1xnzQIheQZQSQHZtN1r515ipm6g/s640/blogger-image-436882399.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">xoxo</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Miss B</span></div>miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-73361530578024992532013-05-30T11:39:00.001+01:002013-05-30T13:03:23.442+01:00Palmgroove Letters Part 7<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKbO3PU2QeLKTKWxE3D0UZZtv3VkVZiPX0A-VDzM8hjZY1vSeeoiX608Hc1mjGpysZ2PWAxlNge8V4i4w9ts0KthG9ocvzJLh9zR56HEzLlcm6U2w1iBEa1XRfSI2hVH8tR3cykO41q0/s1600/letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKbO3PU2QeLKTKWxE3D0UZZtv3VkVZiPX0A-VDzM8hjZY1vSeeoiX608Hc1mjGpysZ2PWAxlNge8V4i4w9ts0KthG9ocvzJLh9zR56HEzLlcm6U2w1iBEa1XRfSI2hVH8tR3cykO41q0/s1600/letter.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Palmgroove Letters Part 6 can be found <a href="http://naijadaydreamer.blogspot.com/2013/05/palmgroove-letters-part-6.html">HERE</a> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Dear Naffy,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
bet the first thing that came to your mind as you saw this letter was to toss
it in the trash. I am really glad you decided to open it as my biggest fear was
that you would not give me a chance to explain myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember how much you loved the letters Abu
wrote to you so I decided to try it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">There are a number
of things you do not know about me, just like there are numerous things I do
not know about you. I have always had a plan for my life as I have told you
many times, I hope to be the youngest Senior Advocate of Nigeria, extremely
wealthy and philanthropic all at the same time, yes I want to have it all. That
is why you see me busting my balls all the time. I have also toyed with the
idea of academia like my father, but I am way too restless and love the finer
things in life a bit too much to accept a salary. Every time my father tried to
pressure me into starting my Phd, this was the only excuse I could give. My mum
would like me to do it as well, but I know deep down she would rather I wasn’t
in a working environment full of young over enthusiastic students. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The older I get,
the more I seem to make the same mistakes I resent my dad for. I have actually
researched how much of a person’s social behaviour can be attributed to
genetics( I know I’m geeky) because some of the choices I have made over the
past couple of years resonate so much of him, that he might as well have made
them himself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Because my mother has
accepted my dad’s indiscretions and still loves him, I looked for someone who
would love me despite mine. That was the initial reason I fell for Moyin.
Although my mum and her do not get along because they are very different, they
both have the unshakable ability to love unconditionally and forgive
repeatedly. I do try to be a good man to her in most ways, however I think my
constant infidelity will eventually break her because she is not as strong as
she makes out to be. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I made a decision
to commit once I moved back to Nigeria as I have pretty much seen it all. It
had not been very hard, especially because I find girls in Lagos to be of very
little substance. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That was all until
I met you. You do not fit into my life plan. There is something about you, I am
sure there must be a word to describe it but I have not come across it yet. It
is that ability to not care at all and to care so much all at the same time.
The way you appear so cold and are yet so warm. The way you fit into the box of
‘a bad girl’ but at the same time condemn Farida for being one. The way you
refuse to drink alcohol and yet smoke everything that grows. The way you are so
brilliant with numbers and yet have never finished a novel. The way you never
apologise for who you are. The fact that you don’t realise just how beautiful
you are. The pride you take in being you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Every minute I have
spent with you has stirred up feelings of passion I never knew I could feel.
Not lust, because I have felt plenty of that before. Not love, because I have
felt that too. But pure, unapologetic and unparalleled passion. I remember the
first time I saw the movie Troy, I thought to myself how do people go to war
over love. I felt love and I didn’t think it was worth going to war over
because you can love and love again. But I now understood that they went to war
because of the passion they felt. That passion for your cause, for your
country, for your woman is what makes a hundred man army defeat an army of
thousands. Passion is what makes a couple fight one minute and make love the
next. It is what makes you stay. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I am so glad I met
you, because before you, I was so sure I had it all. I now realise that the
reason Moyin has stayed so long with me is because she feels that passion for
me. I feel that passion for you. I know you feel it too. You don’t have to say
it, I see it when you stare at me ramble on about things you have no interest
in. When you hold me close and tell me not to leave. When you allow me into
your closely guarded world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This passion is so strong that I don’t want it
to end. I want to fight for it, to keep it burning as life throws us
curveballs. I want to fight for you. I want to fight for us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I know we have both
never discussed the possibility of us being together because neither of us are
single, but the real reason is because we are both afraid of stepping out of
our comfort zone. I am not afraid anymore. All I need is for you to say the
word and I am yours. I don’t want to hide any more, I want to show the world
that you are mine. I know I cannot promise to always make you happy but I can
promise to always try. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Give me a chance to
try Naffy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I found this poem
online and thought of you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">"Did you know that your
smile saps all my energy and makes me tremble beneath my feet?<br />
That my heart recites your heart’s linguistic tongues in silence, because
spitting may taint it?<br />
That my fears are the only thing restricting me from allowing me to share my
body’s every thought?<br />
Did you know that I like drawing your face with every corner of my brain? <br />
That I fantasize about your laugh and correct myself when I get the tone of
your voice wrong? <br />
That my heart radiates at the slightest thought of you? <br />
Did you know that I know you wonder if I ever think of you?<br />
That your thoughts give you away and you find me sitting there at the centre of
your dreams? <br />
I know I’m getting ahead of myself, but I bet you didn’t know that I could write
a story about how you make me feel; that my heart is brave enough to feel for
you but my lips too cautious to whisper the words.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Bayo</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">P.s- (I probably
should have typed this because on reading it over I realise I rambled, as I
usually do, and there are a number of spelling mistakes)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">P.p.s- I realise my
handwriting gets worse as you progress. Feel free to call me to explain
anything you do not understand </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Century Gothic"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Footnote- I know
you know about Cynthia. I will explain it all when we talk</span></div>
miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-57427321857624101312013-05-18T20:43:00.000+01:002013-05-18T20:43:46.637+01:00Palmgroove Letters Part 6Palmgroove Letters Part 5 can be found <a href="http://naijadaydreamer.blogspot.com/2013/04/palmgroove-letters-part-5.html">HERE</a><br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat sat in
silence for what seemed like minutes. It felt like a scene out of a movie.
Actually the past 24 hours could have been the script of a melodramatic
nollywood movie. Unfortunately, she was the protagonist in this movie and was
not in the least bit entertained. Farida stood perfectly still, her eyes
darting from hers to Nuhus, who had also not said a word. Farida was wearing a
loose blue Kaftan which that exposed her soft shoulders. Her full breasts
spilled out of the top of the dress and she was barefoot. Her hair was pulled
up in a messy bun and she was wearing no make-up. Farida always wore make-up
until 5 minutes before she fell asleep when she would cleanse tone and
moisturise religiously. She had never forgotten for the 7 years they had been
friends, even when she was drunk. There was something about her look that made
her seem more vulnerable. Her perfectly put together look made her seem unapproachable
which was something they had in common. However Farida was warmer and always
had a smile on her face. She was a natural sales woman and could talk to anyone
about anything. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Hey Rida, fancy
seeing you here’ said Naffy with a soft smile breaking the silence</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Farida stared back
in silence, and she seemed lost for words. She turned back without a word and
walked into the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat turned to
Nuhu and said ‘Guess you didn’t really want me to come to Abuja did you?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I will not insult
your intelligence and make up any stories. It is what it is’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nuhu’s honesty was
a quality she usually admired, but it meant he was insensitive if he felt he
was telling the truth. He had the most absurd opinions and they once had an argument
that poverty was necessary in order for there to be balance in the society. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘But why Farida?
You can have anyone else, why my best friend?’ she asked quietly, staring
intently into his eyes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Nafisat, it wasn’t
a calculated move or something....’ he said, reaching out to hold her hand</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Her skin crawled at
his touch and she moved away from his reach. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I cannot honestly
say I am surprised. Maybe this is why I decided not to call first.’ She replied,
almost to herself</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat got up and
walked towards the door, with Nuhu right behind her calling out her name. Her
head was suddenly spinning and she felt dizzy. Nuhu watched her miss her step
and reached out to steady her. She caught herself in time and gave him a
resounding slap across his cheek. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ifiok who had been
standing in the corridor watching the drama unfold shouted ‘Ahhhhhh’ before he
put his hand across his mouth to stop himself. He knew his oga fired people for
much smaller transgressions. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">No one paid him any
attention, and Nuhu followed unshaken. He pulled at her hand again and this
seemed to make Nafisat loose control. She screamed all manners of profanities
at him in Hausa as she walked towards the gate. Nuhu stopped following her,
because there was nothing to be gained, and watched her walk out of the gates. He
did not really know how to beg.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat walked
hastily down the badly lit roads, not sure exactly where to go. Tears rolled
down her eyes, and her heart raced. She had a splitting headache and was
overcome with exhaustion. Nuhu could have been with anyone else, she had
resigned herself to that faith. She knew her marriage was one that would be
fraught with infidelity. After all she was not exactly Holy Mary. But Nuhu was
never one for small scale scandals. He had to pick the one person he knew she
would bother her. She did not have a lot of friends, so his chances of hurting
her with infidelity were slim. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat walked on
the sidewalk of the poorly lit legislative quarters until she was back on the
main road. She walked on the sidewalks of Apo in the direction she had come in
until she got to the motorway and she could not walk any further. She stood
there, pondering where to go. She did not want to go home but there were few
people she wanted to see in her current state. She wished she could see her
father but he was away at an ECOWAS meeting in Mali. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A black car
suddenly pulled up next to her. The tinted windows came down and she stared
into the car with a curiosity. A dark middle aged man with a pot belly flashed
her a huge smile and asked</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Where are you
headed, can I give you a ride?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Normally, she would
respond with a purse of her lips and keep walking. She could not remember the
last time she had been offered a ride actually, as she rarely walked anywhere.
But tonight was not like every other night. She thought she had nothing to lose
and the man looked harmless.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She hopped into the
car before replying, ‘I am heading to Maitama’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh ok, that’s <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>funny because I am just returning from the
Hilton, but I could take you’ he offered smiling sweetly. He immediately began
to indicate to make a u-turn. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spoke
with an accent, although she could not make out exactly where it was from. He
drove very slowly and carefully, like he was not in any hurry. She was a speed
daemon, and everyone in Lagos was always in a hurry. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘My name is Kwame
by the way, what is yours?’ he asked smiling sweetly</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Nafisat, So you
are Ghanian?’ she asked, uncharacteristically forward</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘What gave me away?
Could it be my extremely unique Ghanaian name?’ he asked with a loud laugh</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He seemed to be in
a great mood and had a loud voice that echoed in the car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘So what brings you
to Nigeria?’ asked Nafisat</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well I am a
consultant, and I use that term loosely, there is an Aviation Safety Workshop
that I am running with the Nigerian Government so I am here for the next month…’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He spoke slowly,
with his accent seeming more pronounced now that she could place it. She
listened to him talk about aviation safety records in West Africa with incredible
passion. He seemed to enjoy having someone listen to him, despite the fact that
Naffy barely understood what he was talking about.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well enough about
me and my boring obsession with aeroplanes’ he finally said. ‘What do you do?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I am also a
consultant, but a Financial one’ she replied </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Ahh I see, and can
I ask why you are walking by the motorway so late at night? It is actually
quite dangerous you know, especially when you are walking the same way as
oncoming traffic, safety statistics show that most accidents with pedestrians
occur because they are not facing oncoming traffic, especially in dimly lit
areas such as here’ said Kwame</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well, I did not
exactly plan on walking tonight. I just found out my boyfriend has been
sleeping with my best, actually my only friend. So I was not exactly left with
many options.’ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh wow, I am
really sorry to hear that’ he sounded genuinely concerned and Nafisat marvelled
at how some people could care so much about a stranger’s problems. Bayo was the
same. He handled so many cases for distant relatives for free and gave it as
much commitment as he did anything he worked on. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Matters of the
heart are a delicate thing my dear, one must really proceed with caution’ said
Kwame in a fatherly tone</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I think all those
emotions are greatly exaggerated by too many Hollywood movies and love songs.
Love only exists for a tiny percentage of people’ replied Nafisat </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I am afraid I must
insist we have a drink and talk about this. I would like the opportunity to
convince you that Love is the greatest thing on earth’ replied Kwame with a
smile</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Money is the most
powerful thing on earth. And the love of money is the greatest love there is.
Just take a look at these people hawking at this time of the night in such fast
moving traffic, it is the pursuit of the ultimate love.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I completely
disagree my dear, you will be surprised how much money each of these people
earn is given to a loved one. Their families are usually the reason they work
so hard. How did such a young privileged girl such as yourself get so pessimistic?
asked Kwame with surprise ‘You are clearly not poor because you are so well
spoken and put together’ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Maybe that is the
reason I am so pessimistic’ Nafisat replied ‘I am a product of money, I spend
more on my nails than most people here earn in a month. I cannot pretend that<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>I do not want to continue this
lifestyle, like I want to know what it is like to not have options or to want something
and not be able to get it. I cannot apologise for this. Love is all well and good
but it does not pay the rent or pay for holidays. This undying never ending
love that we seem to advocate for is not a realistic.’ Nafisat was surprised at
her outburst, but now that she had started, she could not seem to stop. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Since you don’t
believe in love then it should not hurt you that your boyfriend and friend are
having relations…..”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“You see that’s the
thing..” Nafisat interrupted speaking louder “I am not asking for a 100%
commitment or anything, I am not unrealistic, everyone cheats at some point or
the other…”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I actually beg to
disagree..” interrupted Kwame</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“but what is
actually hurting me right now is the fact that Farida is my closest friend here,
and for her I know this was not an accident, it was a careful scheme she
plotted to get him because she wants to get back at me. She has her pick of men
because she is sexy, and Nuhu rarely chases after women because they come too
easily to him. I really don’t know why I am so surprised, she has done worse
things to other people since we’ve been friends, I guess I somehow thought I
was an exception, clearly I grossly overestimated her.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why do you seem
more angry than hurt?” asked Kwame</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Because I am so
fucking angry right now. I am angry at Farida, at bloody Nuhu, at Bayo and
mostly at myself for getting caught up in this crazy web of lies and deceit in
the name of love.” Replied Nafisat with tears in her eyes, her voice shaking
with emotion</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Kwame did not reply
to her outburst, he drove through the sporadically lit motorways to Maitama.
She seemed troubled and he felt sorry for her and responsible for her at the
same time. He drove back towards Hilton as she ranted about the problem with
trusting people. She had a lot on her mind and it seemed easier to vent to a
complete stranger who did not know her or her flaws. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat suddenly
noticed that they were already in Maitma. She had been talking for the whole
ride which was well over thirty minutes. She gave him directions to her house
and they took a turn past the Farmer’s Market which was still bustling with
lights and activity despite it being past 8pm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Ahhh so this is
the place my colleagues speak so fondly about’ said Kwame</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh the market, yea
it has quite a lot. I would recommend the fresh smoothies’ said Naffy </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Should we get some?’
asked Kwame </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Ermm sure why not.
My house is only a few minutes from here actually so I could walk home’ replied
Naffy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘You seem to like
walking’ replied Kwame as he parked the car next to the market</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I actually rarely
walk. I usually drive, but I also do not usually get into a stranger’s cars or
talk about my personal life. Tonight has been an exceptional night in many
ways. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well I hope that
is partly a good thing.’ said Kwame </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat smiled as
they got out of the car. They walked into the stalls amongst aggressive traders
selling little bits of everything. She lead him to the stall which was filled
with the loud groans of overworked freezers. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘So what’s good
here?’ asked Kwame looking around</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I always go with
the Banana and Mango’ said Naffy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well I don’t like
Bananas, what else would you recommend?’ replied Kwame</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I have only ever
had that, but I am sure they are all good’ said Naffy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh I assumed you
came here often’ said Kwame</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I do. Every day
when I am in Abuja’ replied Naffy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘And you have the
same thing every single time? Asked Kwame with a look of complete shock on his
face</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Err of course. I
like it, why would I want to change it?’ asked Naffy equally surprised at his
apparent shock. ‘It is consistent’ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes, consistently
boring’ he laughed in his characteristic loud voice</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘It is safe’ she
replied</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘When has anything
remotely exciting ever been described as ‘safe’? he asked enjoying her getting
defensive</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The traders watched
them banter not exactly sure what the argument was about. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘We get plenty
plenty flavours oga’ said the trader. Apple, Mango, Pineapple, Coconut,
Banana…’ he ranted on pointing at each fruit as he mentioned their names</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Can I have
pineapple and coconut’ he ordered</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat ordered and
insisted on paying as a thank you for the ride. He graciously accepted and sipped
on his smoothie as they walked back to his car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">They drove the few
meters to her house and sat in the car sipping their drinks. ‘So you somehow
know everything about my love life, what about yours?’ asked Naffy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well I am married
with two kids’ he said with a smile. He pulled out his phone and showed her a
few pictures of his family. He had two beautiful girls aged 11 and 7 a plump wife
with warm eyes and dimples.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat watched him
as he flicked through the pictures, he was so animated as he spoke about them
and had a story to tell about each picture. She felt a pang of jealousy at how
in love he seemed. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘You are a very
lucky man. You seem to have it all’ said Nafisat quietly</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well for a long
time, I did not have anything at all. But sometimes, the thing you crave the
most is right in front of you, but you are ignoring it. Because you are looking
for something grander. Nafisat I have only known you for less than two hours so
this might be completely premature. But unlike most people, your problems seem
to me completely of your own doing. Everyone has a shot at happiness; you just
have to take it. Get rid of people around you that are toxic. Starting with
your boyfriend and best friend. Make new friends. Don’t hold on to the old ones
because you’ve known them for a long time. Most relationships run a natural
course. Find someone who makes you happy all the time and don’t let that person
go. Life is too short to be unhappy my dear, especially for someone as young and
as privileged as yourself.’ said Kwame. He spoke very slowly stretching out his
sentences and laying emphasis on certain words. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat listened in
silence at his speech. She felt like she was back in her principal’s office in
JS3 when she was called in for calling her teacher a ‘hairy baboon’. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Thank you for
that. I actually listened to you. Again exceptional night.’ Nafisat got out of
the car as the security guard knocked on the car window to tell them they could
not park there. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘And you were right
about the coconut and pineapple. It was lovely.’ She said with a conceding
smile</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘It was nice to
have met you Nafisat. You made an otherwise dull evening interesting’ replied
Kwame</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat walked up
to her house sipping the last of the pineapple smoothie. It was much nicer than
hers and after Kwame forced her to try it, she ended up taking his. The house
was quiet and Adamu jogged ahead to open the doors. She walked into the room as
he turned on all the lights and the air conditioning. She told him not to
bother as she was going upstairs to her room. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He called out to
her ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aunty, akwai letter daga Lagos’</i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She wondered what
documents her boss could have sent her so soon. She was surprised that no one
from the office had called her all day. She had not given a thought to when she
would go back to Lagos, and wondered if the letter would mean she would have to
go back the following day. She could not afford to be idle with so much on her
mind. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adamu handed her a
blue envelope. She was surprised as all the company documents usually came in
their official white envelopes. She could not imagine who it could be from as
no one knew she was in Abuja. As soon as she flipped it, her heart did a little
skip.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She had teased Bayo
incessantly about his illegible handwriting. He had written her name boldly and
his attempt to make it legible made it worse. Naffy sipped the smoothie as she
walked up the stairs contemplating weather to open it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For some reason,
tonight’s dramatics could not seem to end. She sat at the edge of the bed and
took off her mum’s shoes and rubbed her sore feet. Her mum’s heels were not
really meant for walking, especially not on concrete sidewalks. She knew her
mum would never wear them again once she saw the state of the bottoms. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat pulled out
a cigarette from her bag and smoked it slowly while staring at the letter. She
was not sure she wanted to open it. A part of her really wanted to know what
Bayo would say. Her muscles still ached from their marathon love making the
previous night and felt genuinely hurt by him because she trusted him. It was
ironic that she trusted him knowing that he, like her, was a cheat. Nafisat
always knew Nuhu was unfaithful, theirs had become more of a relationship of
convenience more than anything else now. They understood what was expected of
them and acted accordingly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With Bayo all the
rules just seem to fly out of the window. Nafisat thought about Kwame’s little
speech a couple of minutes ago. She decided to give Bayo a chance to tell his
story and tore up the envelope to read his handwritten letter. </span></div>
miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-50307896873997906502013-04-16T21:20:00.001+01:002013-04-16T21:27:16.249+01:00Africa by David DiopHey blogworld, <br />
Poetry is another thing I really love and when I randomly came across this poem tonight, it filled me with so much excitement and memories of secondary school! For those who took Literature which was my favorite subject, you will remember reading West African Verse which had this poem in it.<br />
<br />
The words are still as powerful and relevant now as they were then, if not more so. I love this poem because it ends with such an optimism for Africa which I pray I can share someday. <br />
<br />
Africa by David Diop <br />
<br />
Africa, my Africa<br />
Africa of proud warriors in ancestral savannahs<br />
Africa of whom my grandmother sings<br />
On the banks of the distant river<br />
I have never known you<br />
But your blood flows in my veins<br />
Your beautiful black blood that irrigates the fields<br />
The blood of your sweat<br />
The sweat of your work<br />
The work of your slavery<br />
Africa, tell me Africa<br />
Is this you, this back that is bent<br />
This back that breaks<br />
Under the weight of humiliation<br />
This back trembling with red scars<br />
And saying yes to the whip under the midday sun<br />
But a grave voice answers me<br />
Impetuous child that tree, young and strong<br />
That tree over there<br />
Splendidly alone amidst white and faded flowers<br />
That is your Africa springing up anew<br />
Springing up patiently, obstinately<br />
Whose fruit bit by bit acquires<br />
The bitter taste of liberty.<br />
<br />
<br />
Xoxo<br />
Miss B <br />
<br />
<br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8870cFcfdWtXzfDzI2olvBvIjN5b8JotBvd3GX5pdl-gxf4_-q3Xugc3vQWq25_hzz3AeK7AYDIwsmG_k93ztE9vvfrW96ItJPvRhX6qSZnEm_k7woBmYQ6-jHQi_ORKPCJuoCgFhSM/s640/blogger-image--1046983807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8870cFcfdWtXzfDzI2olvBvIjN5b8JotBvd3GX5pdl-gxf4_-q3Xugc3vQWq25_hzz3AeK7AYDIwsmG_k93ztE9vvfrW96ItJPvRhX6qSZnEm_k7woBmYQ6-jHQi_ORKPCJuoCgFhSM/s640/blogger-image--1046983807.jpg" /></a></div>miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-41087303567563003952013-04-14T13:05:00.001+01:002013-04-14T13:15:08.517+01:00How to make Homemade Chicken SaladHello blogworld,<br />
I absolutely love salads, especially when they are fresh, cool and crisp. Its perfect for this Abuja heat. Vegetables are super cheap here and readily available, although the carrots are seasonal.<br />
<br />
The problem though is that it doesn't keep for more than two days even with constant electricity. Making a home made salad is really a labour of love because it is very hard work. It'll probably take you about the same time to make Amala and Ewedu! Theres a lot of rinsing, chopping, grating and slicing and it takes time and effort. For this recipe, I use left over grilled chicken (recipe coming up) thats been left in the fridge to cool. <br />
<br />
You will need-<br />
Grilled Chicken- chopped<br />
Carrots- grated<br />
Cucumber- cut in rings or cubes<br />
Lettuce- torn roughly <br />
Sweet corn- optional <br />
<br />
All the veggies should be rinsed thoroughly and drained to keep them crisp. <br />
<br />
Under no circumstance should there be boiled egg in a salad, abeg! <br />
<br />
Layer the lettuce as the base, then interchange between the cucumber and carrot, and top it off with the grilled chicken and sweet corn. Do not put any mayonnaise or sauces in the whole salad, instead apply to portions you serve. Keep it refrigerated at all times. <br />
<br />
You can enjoy this on its own or as a side dish.<br />
<br />
I hope you try it and as usual let me know what you think. <br />
<br />
Xoxo <br />
Miss B <br />
<br />
P.s apologies for the pictures not being in order! Can't it figure out. <br />
<br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitkTO-ZNeGhhs_w2XImvf77MbDSijriCst1joLWkjMVBE05_Dsrh9eLTc0mTVTjpgyqX4lLOzoFyBd2ScFXJW9G8U9ylAILz0J15tA8EhLXKgC-HOXkJpsJpYn8LO8l1Vx5YA4Oxe0plU/s640/blogger-image-103119380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitkTO-ZNeGhhs_w2XImvf77MbDSijriCst1joLWkjMVBE05_Dsrh9eLTc0mTVTjpgyqX4lLOzoFyBd2ScFXJW9G8U9ylAILz0J15tA8EhLXKgC-HOXkJpsJpYn8LO8l1Vx5YA4Oxe0plU/s640/blogger-image-103119380.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgub_amTjidQpsS1Oe41xy2_oVQTIN0pRG6-eN4zv1RX7AW2VmLforHMCnxzJS8wPYmLZM2-6bT7auhEV4HvGYguZHfgCrvDlSqonYeZSvNa9znFK2K41xwlvKH-qe8BsqY8h_rdc6Y2uw/s640/blogger-image-1868323637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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she had clothes in Abuja. Her phone had been switched off since last night but
she knew she would have to call her boss soon to explain the hurried text she
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amazement as he drove away. The <i>houseboy </i>Adamu ran towards her
clearly surprised at her arrival. She hardly stayed at the house, preferring to
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twice as big as it was. Her mum had seen the living room in a magazine and
flown in a decorator from Sweden to replicate it. Everything sparkled from
being barely used and polished every day. The stairs curved from opposite sides
of the room and converged at the balcony that overlooked the space. She walked
up the stairs and realised how little she missed this house. It was cold,
physically and emotionally, and she had very little attachments to. There were
huge pictures of her three older brothers and herself across the balcony along
with various military recognitions awarded to her dad.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She walked into her room which had just
been unlocked by Adamu and fell onto the bed. Her exhaustion was more mental
than physical. Clutching one of the dozens of throw pillows on the four poster
bed, Nafisat dozed off to the sound of construction next door.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She was awoken by the <i>Adhan</i> call
to prayer outside. It had been so long since she heard it, as she spent most of
her hours inside the office or on the road. It had also been a while
since she said any prayers. Her eldest brother Bello was the only religious one
in the family. He had quit the military and moved to Egypt to learn Arabic. He
kept a beard and did not drink alcohol or engage in the long list of activities
which he considered <i>haram</i>. Bello currently lived in Qatar and was
supposed to be working for an oil company but spent most of his time studying
to be a cleric. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Her dad had been trying to convince him
to return to Nigeria where he hoped like his peers, the pursuit for money and
power would distract him from his fanatics. Her mum had been trying to get him
a wife, also hoping that this would bring him back home and back to his senses.
Nafisat had not spoken to Bello in months as they had nothing in common. He did
not approve of her dressing, lifestyle or her outspoken attitude and did not
hesitate to tell her how each strand of her exposed hair would burn in hell.
Nafisat was not one to be back down and the last time they had spoken she had
told him his hell awaited in Guantanamo with his terrorist brothers.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She smiled at the realisation that
Bello had not crossed her mind in months. Her family were not close, and their
father was the glue that held them together. On the outside though, they
appeared picture perfect because they were all good looking, rich, well spoken
and educated. Few people really knew them beyond the picture perfect
image they </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 13.5pt;">portrayed</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;"> Few people knew for example, that her
youngest brother Abubakar was currently in a private rehabilitation centre in
Zurich being treated for drug addiction. Even Bello did not know
this. She lay on her bed thinking about how much she missed him.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Abu was her favourite sibling and had
always been the smartest of them all growing up, achieving the best grades and
participating in every school activity from sports to politics. As soon as Abu
got to Switzerland to study French and Philosophy, he seemed to lose all focus,
and after several years of changing courses, eventually dropped out. Her dad
finally lost his patience and stopped sending him money. When no one heard from
him for several months she decided to leave New York to search for him. She
found him living in a volunteer shelter for a group called ‘Friends of the
Earth’. He was planting trees, taking part in Green campaigns and making
organic honey for sale. She thought he had finally lost it because he looked
and smelt like a hobo, but he was still as brilliant as ever. He spent the
whole time passionately explaining to her how CO2 emissions was eventually
going to wipe out the planet. He did this entirely in Fulani, which was no easy
feat, but he was intelligent like that. He had also picked up French and German
living in Zurich and still spoke the best Hausa amongst them.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Farida made him stay with her at the
hotel she was lodged in, and they stayed up all night talking about everything
but the reason she had come. He showed her the best parts of Zurich and took
her to the beautiful vineyards in the countryside which overlooked the whole
city, enjoying the long summer days. They sat on the grass enjoying the long
summer days, smoking cigarettes, weed and drinking locally made wine. It was
here that Naffy pleaded with Abu to go back to school and get his life
together. He listened attentively as she explained to him how he was wasting
his life and potential. She even offered him the opportunity to come back to
New York with her and start school again. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">He simply smiled and said ‘<i>Ba na so,</i> I
cannot come back'. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">The thing all the members of her family
had in common other than their towering height was a silent stubbornness. She
knew that since he had made up his mind, there was not much she could do to
persuade him. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Nafisat gave him some money and a phone
and made him promise to call. She knew he would not because he was convinced
that the waves in mobile phones had links to cancer. He promised to write to
her. She thought this meant he would email her.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">However to her surprise, she got a
letter from him a week later. He wrote the letter in Fulani, and even though it
took her a long time to decipher what he was saying but she cherished it. He
wrote about his work, his protests, environmental research and how he was
hoping to travel to a village in Bolivia that self sustained on recycled
materials. There were some sentences in English because there simply were no
such Fulani words. He wrote to her every couple of weeks but she could not
write back because he left no forwarding address. Sometimes he would send her
pictures and poetry. On her birthday he sent her a necklace made with coloured
pebbles and a hand painted card with a Fulani poem in it. She kept every single
thing he sent her. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">This went on for over a year until all
of a sudden the letters stopped. After two months without hearing from him, she
got on another flight to Zurich.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">This time Zurich was freezing and
covered in snow. The city was nothing like she remembered and the people seemed
just as icy. She headed straight to the Friends of the Earth hostel that he was
in the last time and was told that he had moved out a few weeks ago into his
girlfriend’s house. She sat at the hostel reception for hours, waiting
patiently for someone who knew where Abu's girlfriend lived. She stared at the
hobos coming in and out, in awe of their passion. A girl named Vanessa
eventually came in with some information on Abu’s her. Her name was Marianna
and she was a Colombian asylum seeker. Vanessa confessed that Marianna had
gotten Abu into hard drugs and when the hostel had found out, they threatened
to kick him out. He had moved into her house and no one had seen him since. She
offered to take her on her Moped, but Nafisat insisted they take a taxi.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">They arrived at a set of dejected high
rise flats and walked up six flight of stairs to the apartment. She could not
believe Abu, who had the opportunity to live a life of complete luxury, chose
to live here. It was cold, damp and smelt of desperation and urine. Vanessa
pounded the door of Flat 16A with all her fists to the surprise of Farida.
After several minutes, a girl opened the door angrily. She had olive skin with
a full head of curly locks and was extremely beautiful. Vanessa paid no mind to
social grace and burst into her apartment yelling Abu’s name. They started
arguing at the top of their voice in German, and Nafisat stood outside the door
completely clueless. Eventually Nafisat had to interject to ask Vanessa what
was going on. She walked out angrily and explained that Abu was in hospital
admitted for overdosing on heroine. Nafisat’s heart stopped beating for what
seemed like hours and she stood completely still. She knew Abu experimented
with drugs but always believed he could take care of himself. Vanessa jerked
her out of her state of panic and pulled her hand back towards the stairs. Her
legs felt wobbly and she broke into a sweat despite the freezing temperatures.
As the taxi raced to the hospital, she heard Vanessa’s voice in the background
talking about how Marianna had introduced Abu to needles and was a terrible
person who should be locked up. Nafisat was lost in thought of the last time
she had seen him. It was at Zurich International Airport and he had bought her
some organic chilli chocolates which he insisted were amazing. He teased
her about how the cost of her Prada bag could build a classroom in Kano, and
made her promise to spend less on material things. She smiled the whole time
she shopped in duty free, knowing how badly he would disapprove. She felt
Vanessa’s hand tug her back to reality as they exited the taxi and walked into
the hospital.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">They found Abu in a ward filled with
different types of addicts. The ward smelt of disinfectant and felt very cold.
There were electronic beeps coming from each bedside and lights flashing from
various machines. It was very quiet except for the intermittent ramblings from
a patient at the end of the Bay.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Abu was fast asleep with a drip
attached to his arm. He looked so handsome. He was tall and lanky with thick
dark curly hair. His eyelashes were long and dark and covered his big brown
eyes. He was darker than she was but had her distinctive North African
features. His long legs stretched out of the small bed and he was wearing a
blue hospital gown that was worn-out from being over washed. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Tears rolled down her eyes as she saw
his arms bruised with needles and how much weight he had lost. His face was
sunken and his skin looked pasty and dry. His pink lips were parched and dark
from smoke. She was scared to touch him because he looked so fragile. Vanessa
held her in a tight hug and she was glad for the company of this stranger who
seemed to share her pain.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She stayed with him for a week and
nursed him back to health. He rarely said anything and replied any questions
with one word. He slept for hours on end and stared into space when he awoke.
Nafisat decided to call her dad when she realised that this was beyond what she
could handle alone. Her dad flew in the following day and they checked him into
a private Rehab centre. That was about six months ago and had been the last
time she had seen him. They spoke regularly on the phone and he seemed to be
making progress. She decided she would give him a call in the evening to catch
up.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Nafisat suddenly felt painful pangs of
hunger; she never had the suya last night. She rang for the chef to bring up
some lunch while she had a shower and changed her clothes. Before she heard her
mum come in, she smelt her beautiful fragrance envelope the room. She turned to
see her mum, dressed from head to toe in baby pink smiling at her.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘Naffy, <i>sanu de zua. </i>I
am surprised to see you since you haven’t returned any of my calls.’</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20.8pt;">She embraced her mum awkwardly, longing
for the mother daughter relationship they never had. Her mum was clearly taken
aback by her uncharacteristic show of emotion and seemed uncomfortable. </span>Naffy’s mum was small compared to all her tall children. She was from Niger and had the characteristic long nose and long jet black hair with hazel eyes which Naffy had inherited. She was fulani from Niger and had the characteristic long nose and long jet black afro hair with hazel eyes which Naffy had inherited. She had tribal mark on both sides of her mouth in intrinsic dots that formed a distinct <br />
‘Are you ok? You've lost weight. You haven’t been eating properly have you?’ asked her mum examining her at arm’s length<br />
‘I was just about to have some lunch’ she replied feeling like a piece of chicken being examined at a market<br />
triangle.She once was as slim as Naffy but had put on weight in the right places with the birth of her children. Despite her age, she was still extremely beautiful and put in a lot of work to stay that way, with weekly spas, facials and aerobics.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘You need to take better care of
yourself Naffy. You have gotten so dark as well. Have you been using the
lotions I got you from Morocco?’</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Nafisat chucked at her mum and said
‘Yes mum, I have. How have you been? How are your various organisations?’</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘<i>Toh Alhamdullilahi’ </i>You
know how it is, never ending’ she replied ‘Governor Ahmed’s daughter’s wedding
dinner is tonight so I came back to get ready for that. Will you come with me?’
she asked sweetly, already knowing the answer.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Naffy would normally roll her eyes in
reply, but her mum’s pleading voice made her feel bad. ‘I can’t mum, I have
plans’ she replied gently</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘Let me guess, some all important oil
contract will fall to pieces if you do not type up some papers?’ said her mum
condescendingly</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Naffy sighed heavily, remembering
instantly why one must never feel bad for her mother.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘Actually, I am going to see Nuhu’ she
replied</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘Oh, that’s nice. How is he? I was with
his mum the other day and she really wants to pick a date because......’</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Nafisat tuned out instantly. Just 10
minutes with her mum and she had exhausted all the patience that Bayo had
taught to use her when dealing with parents.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘Ok then. So where’s the stash? I smell
something new on you and I want it’ said Naffy with a cheeky smile, totally
ignoring her question. She opened her door walked briskly along the corridor
towards her mum’s room.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘Naffy don’t you dare touch any of my
bottles....’ said her mum as she followed in tight pursuit with no smiles at
all.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Nafisat watched the make-up artist tie
her mum’s head gear, playing with the jewellery laid out on the bed and
lethargic from the big meal of <i>tuwo and miyan kuka</i> she just
had. Her mum’s jewellery collection was scattered in banks all over the world
and was worth a considerable fortune. Although her mum’s lifestyle appeared
extravagant, she was extremely prudent and was the sole reason they were so
wealthy. It came partly from growing up in an extremely poor village outside
Niamey and learning how to survive on the bare minimum. There was also the fact
that her dad’s extreme generosity had to be kerbed to prevent them from going
to bankrupt. He was the type of man that would give the shirt off his back for
a total stranger. Her mum believed in helping out her immediate family alone,
and this was the main thing her parents argued about. She often overheard her
dad’s family call her mother a selfish bitch, but her mum did not care. She had
a thick skin and the only person’s opinion she cared about was her husband’s.
She wore the pants in their relationship despite the fact that her father was a
well decorated Field Marshall, the highest rank in the Army.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Although Nafisat could not say she
loved her mum, she had undying admiration and respect for her. She was one
tough cookie. She stared at her as she applied her red lipstick and wondered
what made her this way. Her mother never spoke about her childhood, her
parents, or her life before she met her father. She had told them that her
family were all dead and they were never allowed to bring it up.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Her mother walked into her shoe closet
which had every single colour and style imaginable. Naffy decided to ask the
now idle make-up artist for a make-over. It had been a while since she had seen
Nuhu so she might as well make an effort.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;"> The make-up artist worked her
magic with different brushes and wands and she instantly felt prettier. She
then started on her hair and she instantly smiled. The artist pulled it out of
her characteristic tight bun and proceeded to give her a lecture on how pulling
your hair so tightly stunts growth from certain parts of the scalp. Naffy half
listened, happy that someone was playing with her hair. When she was younger,
he dad would play with her hair until she fell asleep. She thought about Bayo
again, for the 576<sup>th</sup> time that day. The artist used a curling
iron to give her full wavy curls. When she stared at herself fully made up, she
decided to change into a nicer dress. She put on a figure hugging floor length
floral dress and chose some heels from her mum’s closet which she had no plans
of returning. She felt beautiful and more confident and hoped that Nuhu would
be home when she arrived.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She caught up with her mum and one of
her aunts who were getting into the car. She decided hitch a ride with them as
she knew Nuhu would drop her off the next morning. They drove through the
Government Ministries in Central Area, the brightly lit roads empty. Driving in
Abuja was a much saner experience to Lagos, but she was a city girl and
preferred the chaos. The architecture, like the people, had no history or
character and felt lifeless. Abuja reminded her of Washington, full of boring
civil servants. They arrived at the brightly lit International Conference
Centre which was already full of cars. The military plate numbers and escorts
meant the gates were opened for them without question and her mother was
dropped off at the entrance with last minute pleas for Nafisat to join them.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Nafisat knew like her, Nuhu did not
like surprises, and contemplated calling him but decided against it. The driver
sped through the motorways at 140km/hr towards Apo legislative quarters where
Nuhu stayed in a dream bachelor dream pad. As they drove up the heavily manned
gates she got reminded of how much easier things were with her father’s car and
aides. She spotted his white Lexus parked at the front of his flat, and smiled
at her luck. She walked to the door of the terraced house and knocked gently,
adjusting her scarf over her voluminous hair. The door opened slowly and Ifiok
the <i>houseboy</i> opened the door with a surprised look on his face.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She walked in confidently, pushing him
aside as he stood by the door way like an idiot. She had little patience for
his sluggish behaviour. The house was engulfed in the smell of delicious home
cooking and the TV was on to the highest volume. Nuhu liked to be engulfed in
his surround sound. The flat was impeccable because he was, like her, very
meticulous.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She walked into the living room to see
Nuhu slouched on the sofa in an old t-shirt and shorts. His feet were crossed
on the glass centre table and he was laughing at the TV, holding his extremely
complicated remote control that looked like an Ipad. She stood for a couple of
seconds observing him before saying</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">‘Hey babe’</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">Nuhu looked up at her with a completely
blank expression on his face. She walked towards him and planted a kiss on his
cheek sitting next to him on the sofa. She knew he was still upset at her over
their last argument and resolved to make it up to him.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;">She pulled his face towards her and
said ‘<i>Yaya de’. </i>He opened his mouth to reply but was tuned out by
someone saying, ‘Dinner’s ready babe’</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 16px;">She looked up at the voice coming from the door, the exact way that Nuhu had looked up at her, and met Farida’s beautiful smiling eyes. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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xoxo</div>
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Miss B</div>
<!--EndFragment-->miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-11294545908875501012013-03-12T10:40:00.000+01:002013-04-11T11:55:33.993+01:00Palmgrove Letters: Part 4Palmgroove Letters Part 3 can be found <a href="http://naijadaydreamer.blogspot.com/2013/01/palmgrove-letters-part-3.html">HERE</a><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Moyin woke up to
the sound of her spaniel barking at the door. She ignored the gentle knock, knowing
it was the maid sent to wake her up for church. She did not want to go because
there was a chance she would run into Bayo. His mum was quite religious, and
would probably drag them all to a thanksgiving service. She was too exhausted
to put on a brave face. She was getting exhausted with the whole relationship.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">They started dating
while she was in her first year studying Law at Oxford. Her father and
grandfather before her had studied law at Oxford and she always knew she would
be the one to carry on the family tradition. She had three older sisters who
she was always in constant competition with.
Her eldest sister, Temi was a doctor working in America, the second Tola
was an auditor with an accounting firm in Abuja, and the third Tayo was a
successful designer with her own fashion house in Lagos. Her mother had
overcompensated for not having a son, by making her girls as successful as
possible. When Moyin was given a 2<sup>nd</sup> class for her final project,
her mum had flown to Oxford to help her prepare her appeal to ensure she got a
higher grade. After 6 months of back and forth letter writing and several
re-markings, Moyin was convinced they awarded her a higher grade just to get
her mum off their backs. She took this approach with their personal lives as
well, and this had been partly why Moyin had not let Bayo go. Her mum loved
him, probably more than she did, and Bayo had charmed her, like he had all of
her family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">From a young age,
Moyin’s mother had taught all her daughters that all men cheat, and it was
their job to manage their men’s indiscretions. Moyin’s mother was the last
child of the one of the richest men of the south west, and a prominent
politician and human rights activist. She fell in love and married her father
who was a teacher at a local secondary school. She used her connects to get him
a scholarship to Oxford, where he also studied law like her father. He became
one of the most prominent and wealthiest lawyers in the country. They had a
good marriage until her father got one of his employees pregnant. Only her
immediate family knew of the affair, and Moyin had never met her step-brother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She heard another
more forceful knock, which meant her mother had made it her mission to come and
wake her up. She knew she had to get out of bed now. Her mum was a morning
person and would want to chat about the party.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Good morning mum’
she said as she opened the door. Her mum was already dressed and made up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Morning my angel’
she replied cheerily, like she had been up for hours. ‘Why aren’t you dressed?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I don’t feel too
well, I think I will rest today’ said Moyin, faking a cough<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh my poor baby’
said her mum, checking her temperature with her hand. ‘Let me get Angela to
make you some soup and bring you up some meds. Was last night hectic?’ she
asked looking immediately concerned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘A little, I just
need to rest’ said Moyin fully acting the sick role. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Alright my angel,
please watch the sermon online and study your bible’ said her mum giving her
kiss on the forehead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Her dog followed
her mum out of the room and she shut the door. She needed to be alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Her relationship
with Bayo currently took up a huge chunk of her life. She had essays pending, her
attendance was poor, and the societies she was president of were awaiting her
return. She flew into Lagos at every opportunity to be with him. He had gotten
distant the past couple of months and it made her even more paranoid than she
usually was. She had caught him in several
compromising positions before, but never like yesterday. She played the
scenario over and over in her head, wishing she had reacted differently or said
something cleverer. The tall girl had taken a dignified silent approach, making
her feel like a fool. She was not his type at all. She looked Northern and very
composed. When they had been in England, he liked blondes, usually Eastern
European girls. All the girls she suspected in Lagos were from within their
social circle, and the tall girl certainly was not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She sent a few
messages to her friends, and no one seemed to know who she was talking about.
The only Hausa girl her sister Tayo knew was called Farida, but she was curvy
and not tall. She probed Tayo more about Farida and then she heard another
knock on her door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She should have
known her sister would have found a way to escape church too as she had gone
out the previous night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She grudgingly got
out of bed as Frosty, her dog, had started scratching the door to get back in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Why all the
questions about Farida?’ asked Tayo as she burst into her room in her pyjamas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘You couldn’t even
take off your make up before bed. You look like a masquerade.’ teased Moyin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Whatever mate. I
had a blast’ replied Tayo as she played with Frosty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘How did you get
out of church this morning?’ quizzed Moyin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Told mum I was
ill’ replied Tayo <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Damn you. I told
her that too. Now she’ll know we are lying. Heathen.’ Said Moyin as she crawled
back into bed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘So wassup with all
the questions about Farida?’ asked Tayo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I met this hausa
girl last night that was friends with Bayo, but I didn’t catch her name’ lied
Moyin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She never talked to
Tayo about her relationship with Bayo, as her solution was always to break it
off. She was not a fan of their relationship because she had known Bayo for so
long. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well this one is a
‘stylist’ so she would have looked very well dressed with plenty of make up’
said Tayo rolling her eyes at the word stylist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Is she your
competition?’ asked Moyin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Not at all. She’s
actually bought a few of my pieces to style her clients. She knows alot of
people’ said Tayo as she peered at her phone through her thick glasses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Let me have her
pin anyway. I think she’s the one’ said Moyin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘But you said she’s
tall. This girl is about my height’ replied Tayo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well, she was
wearing heels and next to me, everyone seems tall’ she joked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘This is true my
midget sister’ teased Tayo. Although I think I have seen her out with a girl
that matches your description’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘So was he
surprised to see you?’ asked Tayo as she handed her phone over<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Ermm... yes, I
guess you could say that’ said Moyin with a smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Are you happy
Moyin? Really happy? You seem a bit stressed lately’ asked Tayo staring
intently at her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Century Gothic, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Moyin thought about
it. She was not sure if she was happy. She was where she thought she would be
at 24. Finishing up her masters and in a serious relationship. She had a job
waiting for her at her father’s law firm, and she was being groomed to run it
in the future. She was hoping to get married after Tayo, whose boyfriend was
poised to propose any minute. But she </span></span><span style="font-family: Century Gothic, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">wasn't</span></span><span style="font-family: Century Gothic, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> as happy as she thought she would
be. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Bayo was the most
exciting thing in her life. He encouraged her to be adventurous and live in the
moment. He was her first everything, and had brought her out of her shell. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She first met him
on one of her summer holidays from boarding school. He was Tayo’s friend and
would come to their house with a group of their mates to have exam preparation
lessons. She would sit upstairs and stare at him the entire time he was around,
day dreaming about her 1<sup>st</sup> crush. All the Usher love songs suddenly
made sense. She would ask Tayo a dozen questions about him after making her
swear not to mention a word of her undying love to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She never had the
courage to talk to him, until she met him again a few years later at a
conference for African students in London. He was even more handsome than she
had remembered, and as usual was the centre of attention. This time she knew
she had to talk to him. She sat down at the back plotting her opening line. She
never got to use it, as he came up to her giving her a big hug and calling her
Tayo’s baby. She fell for him again instantly and had not let him go ever
since. She had tried to break up with him once, but had called him two hours
later to patch things up. She was determined not to let him go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Tayo had been
talking about her upcoming show the whole time she had tuned out. Her phone
blinked red and she picked it up to see a message from Farida. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Hello, this is
Farida from Rida Beauty Consultants, how can I help you?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She thought about
her response for a minute before she replied:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Hi, my name is
Moyin, I would like to book a consultation with you please?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat woke up at
5.30am as she usually did from years of being woken for morning prayers. These
days, she hardly said any prayers. She turned around to see Farida fast asleep,
clutching a pillow. She looked so peaceful, in contrast to the volcano that she
was when she was awake. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her
messages, none from Nuhu. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She walked to the
balcony and inhaled the cool morning air, damp from the moisture from the
ocean. She stared out lost in her thoughts and pondering what to do with her
day. She wanted to spend the day with Bayo the way they used to. He would come
to hers after Sunday service with his family and bring her lunch. She usually
only ate the starters as he would eat his share and hers because according to
him, church made one very hungry. He would leave at night, usually after a call
from him mum asking when he was coming home. She had always wondered what it
would be like to wake up in the morning next to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She missed his dry
sense of humour and his infectious laugh. She missed him teasing her about her
OCD, and messing up her room to leave as ‘his trademark’. Whenever she tried to
stop him or put her things back in place, he would carry and toss her on the
bed where they would play fight. He would then kiss her softly and slowly until
she gave in to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She decided to call
him. As the phone rang, her heart beat a little faster and she silently hoped
he would not pick up. He did not, and she let out a little sigh of relief. It
did not last as her phone rang a moment later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Hey Bayo’ she
answered quietly <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Naf, are you ok?’
he asked with concern. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes I’m good, how
are you?’ she replied. She marvelled at how he could be so caring first thing
in the morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Tired and slightly
hung over’ he said sleepily. ‘At least it’s over now, the party took up too
much of my time’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘<i>Pele</i>’ she said, practising the Yoruba
she had picked up from Mr Segun<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">There was silence
between them, pregnant with words unspoken. They enjoyed it and she listened to
him breathing as the sun came up over the horizon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Can I see you
today?’ she asked with a whisper, scared to realise that she was </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">finally
admitting her feelings</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes’ he replied
with certainty. ‘I will call you after church, let me catch some sleep’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She put down the
phone, scared and excited at the same time<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She walked back
into her room and quietly crawled back into bed trying not to wake Farida, who
was already up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Morning love’ said
Farida ‘Were you on the phone?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Why are you up?’
she asked diverting from the question<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I am going to
Abuja this morning. Last minute call from a client, I’m not sure when </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I’ll be
back’ she replied as she got up and stretched<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh really? When
are you leaving?’ asked Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘My flight is for
8.30, the client booked it for me’ replied Farida<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Let me call one of
my uncle’s drivers then’ said Naffy. She was used to Farida’s work being
unpredictable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She watched Farida
get ready in record time, and helped her take her things to the car that was
waiting outside. There was a cool breeze that blew the scarf she wrapped around
herself. It reminded her of harmattan mornings in Kano, except the winds did
not carry dust from the Sahara desert but moisture from the Ocean. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Farida hugged her
tightly as she always did, but lingered for a second longer. She could be very
emotional sometimes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I love you Naf’
she said as she got into the car<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She watched her
drive away and went back into the house which was already a bustle of activity.
There were soldiers outside which meant someone important was coming to the
house. She walked back into her room, and she knew she would not enjoy any
quiet time with Bayo if her uncle was around. She crawled back into bed and
sent Bayo a message. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Uncle’s around so
it’s a madhouse’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He replied a couple
of minutes later:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Meet me at the
beach house at 2’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She smiled as she
read the message and fell back asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Bayo woke up at 8am
to the sound of people around the house. He thought he had dreamt up his
conversation with Naffy until he saw her message. He smiled at it. There was
none from Moyo and he knew he would have to go and see her. He had actually
been planning on going there after church until he had gotten the call from
Naffy. For a second, he considered converting to Islam and marrying two wives.
They definitely got that part right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He went down the
stairs and saw his mum giving orders, already dressed for church. This woman is
a superhero he thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His dad was nowhere
to be seen, probably still in bed. He hugged his mum from the back and gave her
a big kiss. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘<i>Oko mi’</i> she said smiling, she always
called him her husband<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Did you even sleep
at all?’ he asked, marvelling at her boundless energy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I will get enough
sleep when we get to Atlanta’ she replied. ‘You know we leave tomorrow so I
have to ensure everything is in order. <i>Oya,
</i>go and get dressed, the service starts at 10’ she ordered<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes ma’am’ he
answered giving her a salute. He teased her that she really should have joined
the military<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He got dressed and
walked downstairs to the sound of his parents arguing. He knew it was
inevitable but had hoped he would be out of the house before it happened. His
dad was a difficult man, who seemed to get worse with age, and his mum was
strong willed meaning they were always at loggerheads. As an only child he was
always forced to choose sides. Growing up amongst constant conflict, made him
hate any confrontations in his own life. Even as a lawyer he avoided it, and
his father considered it a sign of weakness. His father was a loud man, and had
a reputation in the legal world as a lion which he took pride in. Sometimes, he
wondered if they had anything in common, other than their striking physical
resemblance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Did I not tell you
not to make this service a massive thing? Why are there people in the house
this early morning, after last night’s carnival?’ he shouted in Yoruba<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘We are going to
this service because everything has been planned so I don’t understand why you
are shouting so early in morning’ she replied angrily<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘You can go ahead,
but I will certainly not be there. I have to go into the office’ he replied
making his way back upstairs, still in his house clothes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He spotted Bayo and
said ‘Meet me in the office in an hour, we have something to go over’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He could see that
his father was braced for a fight that morning, and was unwilling to engage
him. He would postpone the fight to when he got back in the evening, where he
would be attacked for not coming into the office as instructed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Let’s go mum’ he
told her as he got his car keys. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘<i>Ose oko mi’ </i>she replied with a sigh<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">They got into his
convertible and his mum joked that his car was not meant for women that tied <i>gele, </i>as hers were touching the roof of
his Mercedes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘How is Moyo? Did
you invite her for the Thanksgiving?’ she quizzed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She rarely discussed
his love life as she knew he was reckless, just like his father. He was everything she hoped for in a son, but
it saddened her that she had not raised him to be better with women. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘She is fine, I
doubt she will be coming this morning though’ he replied clearly not keen on
the subject<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">They gossiped about
who got drunk and misbehaved at the party until they arrived at church. He
dropped her off at the entrance and went to look for a place to park. He
searched his car for his cigarettes and suspected his mum must have hidden it,
the way she hid his father’s. She never gave up, it was her most admirable quality.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He smiled as he
walked into church, knowing that he had a lot to pray about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As he drove to the
beach house after the service, he wondered how long he could continue this for.
He loved Moyo and knew she was his future wife. She had everything he wanted; beauty,
intelligence, ambition and courage. She was able to tolerate his indiscretions
and forgave easily. No doubt, she had her flaws, but when she made a commitment
to anything, she always saw it through, and this was her approach to their
relationship. It was the same quality he admired in his mother. Despite this,
he could not get Naffy off his mind. To be fair, he had not tried very hard to.
A small part of him hoped she would end it because he could not do it himself. He
prided himself in being a good boyfriend but the distance and spending time
with Naffy had made him neglect her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He dove past Lekki,
towards Aja at top speed, enjoying the traffic free roads. Naffy had come for a
party he hosted for his friend at the beach house a while ago and he had been
there since then. He stopped over at a supermarket to get some drinks and
chocolates because he knew she would not eat proper food. He left Aja behind,
turning off the main road and driving on the sand towards the ocean. The beach
house was one of ten small bungalows on a private beach owned by his father’s
friend. The security guard waved in excitement as he let him in, glad for an
upcoming generous tip. He made a mental note to remind Naffy to bring an SUV as
the sand was wet from the tide coming inwards. He noticed a few cars parked and
figured some of the houses were occupied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He walked up the
wooden steps and opened the house to the musty smell of damp wood. He saw the
security guard jogging towards him to tidy up the house. He opened the bedroom
door and windows that overlooked stretches of sand, letting in a cool salty
breeze. He plugged in the fridge and filled it with things he had bought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As the security
guard worked his way around the house, sweeping and dusting, he decided to lie
on the chairs in the veranda and enjoy the afternoon breeze. He closed his eyes
for what seemed like a second and when he woke up he saw Naffy’s eyes staring
down at him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He thought he was
dreaming of her and called out her name in a sleepy haze. He got up with a
startle when he heard Naffy’s voice reply ‘You look so cute when you are
asleep’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘When did you get
in? How long have you been here?’ he asked rubbing his eyes slowly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Are you so
obsessed that you sleep with your phones on your chest?’ she teased <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I know important
people and they need me all the time’ he joked back ‘And I have friends. You
know... as in plural’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘And yet here you are
all alone on the beach on a Sunday afternoon, like a loner. So we are really
not too far apart’ she said softly with a smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He stared at her
big brown eyes which were outlined with black khol, and realised how much he
had missed them. She was wearing a floral patterned jumpsuit with her hair
pulled back and a scarf down her shoulders. Her wide pink lips covered her
perfect set of teeth which she pursed into a smile. Her smiles were few but
always worth the wait. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I have been here
staring at you snoring for like an hour now’ she teased. ‘You look a lot less
mischievous when you are dressed so formally’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘No way’ he replied
hesitantly, not sure how long he had actually been asleep for<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I have been here
starving Bayo, anything for your girls?’ said Naffy with a smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Allow it. You
should give up on these attempts at slangs’ he said standing up to stretch.
‘What time is it?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘It’s a quarter to
5’ she replied looking at her gold watch. He looked out at the beach and
realised the sun was making its way west and was currently blazing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh wow. So you’re
hungry? Does that mean you haven’t eaten since Thursday? He asked making his way
towards the fridge as she followed him<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Very funny, if you
must know I had suya last night’ replied Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘You know you are
meant to eat more than once in 24 hours right? Nicotine is not part of your
dietary requirement. Neither is coffee, chocolates or sweets.” He retorted
knowing her usual diet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Stop nagging, you
sound like my mum. Let’s find food. Better yet, can you cook for me? she
pleaded<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Cooking ke? No
chance love, I am hungry too though, I only bought drinks and chocolates’ he
replied as he scanned the fridge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Let’s fish and
grill them on the open fire like cavemen’ she said with excitement <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Good idea, you
fish and I’ll grill’ he replied dryly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Why do you have to
be so sarcastic?’ said Naffy as she hit him with her bag<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He saw it coming
and caught it mid-air, using the chain straps to pull her closely to him. Nafisat stood still, her face barely an inch
from his, as Bayo breathed deeply inhaling her flowery scent...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His eyes burned
into hers. He wanted to devour her, especially as they were alone, on the
beach, at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean. They weren’t just going to kiss this
time. Not when she looked the way she did, and smelled the way she did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He pulled her hand and
led her to the mint green sofa, sitting down at the edge and pulling her down
into his lap. Nafisat with a naughty smile put her hands around his neck and
kissed him. She kissed Bayo slow and deep, she kissed long and hard, she kissed
his cheeks, his hair, his temple, his throat. Bayo tried not to sigh too loudly, but Naf had
a way with her lips. She’s the only girl that he was able to kiss for hours
without getting bored. Bayo started to unzip her jumpsuit as he kissed her
chest, tugging the straps down, he traced his tongue around the outline of her
lace bra. Naf wore stunning lingerie, and he was sure that these were no
exception but Bayo could focus on nothing else but her skin that lay waiting
for him. He peeled those sheer undergarments off her and tossed them aside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I like those” Naf
whispered panting. Protesting against his misuse of her wardrobe, even as pangs
of pleasure soared through her<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Be Quiet.” Bayo
ordered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She obeyed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Naf stared up at
Bayo as he pulled off his white shirt and formal trousers, tossing them on the
pile of clothes on the floor. His church clothes, she reminded herself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">So there they lay,
both of them naked, enjoying the sin of what they were doing, and Naf took a
moment to dwell on how beautiful Bayo’s body was. The air around them became
heated with electricity. He smelt like her perfume now, that flowery scent that
he had woken up to and been enticed by. Naf began to grip on to his waist,
arching her back and her kisses pouring onto his shoulder, neck and everywhere
else her lips could reach. Her breathing was apace and her skin was ablaze
beneath his hands. Her hips moved in symphony with his. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Their bodies had
begun moving in a familiar rhythm. Her bed, his, a hotel, a beach house...it
didn’t matter. When they got together it was the same, it was magic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Naffy woke up with
hunger pangs and turned on the bed, suppressing a smile as she watched Bayo
sleeping next to her again. Naffy looked across the wooden floor to the dining
area, where she knew the mirror was. Her lips were bruised, her nipples
swollen, her hair stood in every direction.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He must have been
really tired. She looked at her watch and it was 11.30pm. They had spent a
solid couple of hours making love. She tenderly touched her nipples, they were
hard from the assault of Bayo’s teeth on them as well as the chilly breeze
blowing in through the window. There was music coming from the beach too, from
people enjoying the last day of the weekend and as her stomach growled again, she
hoped the <i>suya</i> men would still be out
on the sands too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">They had tried to
get food into their stomachs earlier, and Naf had gone to take a quick shower
before they left. That was until Bayo stepped in to give her a hand...lathering
the soap on her body slowly as he had kissed her. They had remained in the
shower, faces pressed against the glass doors, till the hot water ran out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Appreciating the
Olympic trial her muscles have had today, Naf decided she would go in search of
<i>suya</i> herself, then return home
victorious to share it with Bayo. She got out of bed as quietly as she could-
looking for her clothes in the dark-she got dressed praying it was not on
backwards and felt for her slippers with her feet. She groped around in the
dark for her bag before realising it would still be on the living room floor.
She crept out of the bedroom, shutting the door silently behind her. Walking on
her tip toes even though it did not make a difference either way because the sound
emanating from the boom-box on the beach would suffice to cover up a murder.
Yet Naf did this because it was done in movies, when you wanted to walk
quietly. She flicked the switch in the living room but the lights refused to
come on. The only source she could see burst in from the windows, and beeped
from Bayo’s phones. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Naf headed towards
it, innocently hoping to use it only as a visual aid but saw that he had a bunch
of unread messages. She knew she should not...she knew it could possibly end
badly... but she wanted to read his messages. She talked herself out of it,
there was no need to, it was low and she had more self confidence than that,
she would hate it if he did the same to her etc <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It did not work,
she typed in his password, which she had watched him type in a hundred times
and scrolled through his messages. There were mostly from guys, asking him
where he was. She kept scrolling until she saw an unopened message with several
bright red PINGS. The message was from a girl named Cynthia but she did not
have a picture up. Naffy wondered why the message had been unopened for several
days and opened it to read through. She scrolled up through dozens of unread PINGS
and came to the frantic messages from her in capital letters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat’s heart
stopped beating. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-44661240737865238072013-03-12T09:17:00.001+01:002013-03-12T10:47:53.790+01:00TIENTE: For your Baby or Bridal Shower!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Miss B</b></span>miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-31377853894250359612013-02-03T17:14:00.001+01:002013-02-05T04:48:48.915+01:00How to Make DodoGizzard aka Gizdo!Hey blogworld, <br />
Its been a whileeee I did a food post but it was worth the wait! Gizdo is a side dish that's served at owambes and tastes so delicious especially when hot! <br />
<br />
You will need:<br />
Boiled Gizzard- When it is cool, chop it in cubes. Incase you don't know, gizzard needs to be cleaned very well before cooking. You boil it first in plain water for about 15 minutes, toss that water away, and continue boiling in fresh water, adding salt and maggi to taste. <br />
<br />
Plantain- Make sure it is very ripe and dark, almost going off so its sweet and sticky. <br />
<br />
Stew- Tomatoes, Onions and Peppers, blended and fried with salt and maggi until its thick. I always have some in the freezer. <br />
<br />
Diced onions<br />
<br />
Olive oil<br />
<br />
Salt, pepper and any spices you like<br />
<br />
Step 1- Fry the chopped gizzard in a little oil with the onions, until crispy<br />
<br />
Step 2- Pour the stew over the gizzard and let it simmer for 3 minutes or so<br />
<br />
Step 3- Add some salt to your plantain and pour it in, mixing well with the sauce and gizzard<br />
<br />
Step 4-Pour in more oil, so that the plantains can get cooked. Mix well<br />
<br />
Step 5- Cover the pan, and cook for about 20 minutes on low heat. Stir every 5 minutes or so to make sure the plantains don't stick to the bottom of the pan <br />
<br />
Step 6- Enjoy while hot!<br />
<br />
As usual, try it out and let me know how it turned out!<br />
<br />
Enjoy<br />
xoxo<br />
Miss B<br />
<br />
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text-align: center;">
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Palmgroove Letters Part 2 can be found <a href="http://naijadaydreamer.blogspot.com/2013/01/palmgrove-letters-part-2.html">HERE</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Moyin walked closer
to them, her heels clicking ferociously and Bayo froze. It had been a stressful
day and it was about to get even worse. He had seen Nafisat as soon as she
walked in. Her long purple dress clung to her every curve as she walked
gracefully into the room. She seemed to glide effortlessly, even in the high
heels she always wore. She had her characteristic scarf halfway down her head,
about to fall to her shoulders where it would remain for the rest of the night.
Her long thick hair was tied up in its usual bun. He was obsessed with her hair
and played with it more times than he could remember. She had taught him how to
braid it, and before she went to bed he would braid and loosen it over and over
until she fell asleep on him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She was scanning
the room and he turned around before their eyes could meet. He knew she would
be there as he had gone through the list of confirmed guests with his mother in
the morning. He had been looking forward to seeing Naffy despite knowing that
Moyin would make one of her surprise appearances. Moyin was supposed to be
finishing up her masters in Aberdeen, but always seemed to be in Lagos. He knew
his mum had not invited her because she could not stand Moyin. On paper they
were a match made in heaven. They were both from Shagamu, both lawyers and grew
up on the same street. However, they had very different backgrounds because
Moyin was 3<sup>rd</sup> generation old money and Bayo was what was branded as
new money.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">There wasn’t much
he could reply to Moyin’s question, as it was very obvious was going on. His
lips were bright red and puffy from Naffy’s lipstick and her Arabian spice
perfume lingered all over him. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Who is she?’ asked
Moyin much calmer now moving even closer to them and scanning Nafisat intently
from head to toe. Her face was expressionless but her eyes glared with
controlled anger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Bayo remained
silent. Naffy said nothing either and stared back at Moyin unashamedly. The
silence felt so loud as they stood in the parking lot with the background music
and voices from the party getting louder behind them. Naffy’s phone rang loudly
from her purse, breaking the silence and she was so glad for it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Naffy stepped
away from them and walked towards her purse that had been lying on the floor
when she had attempted to remove the clamp. As she opened her purse, she
blessed whoever had such perfect timing. She tried not to smile as she opened
her purse, knowing it was probably Farida calling to vent about her day. She
could hear Bayo whispering something to Moyin who whispered back angrily. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It
was not Farida. It was Nuhu, her fiancé. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The timing suddenly did not seem so
perfect. She knew she could not answer the call because he probably wanted to discuss
something about their wedding plans. She needed another smoke. She put the
phone on silent and turned around to see Bayo whispering intently to Moyin who
was gesticulating angrily. She was a tiny person with a very tiny voice but she
seemed to have a lot to say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Since you are
kissing my boyfriend, I think it is only right that I know your name. My name
is Moyin’ she said with a sarcastic smile. She looked up to Naffy because she
was very short, even in her high heels. She spoke really fast and very well,
pronouncing all her words properly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Naffy looked at Bayo,
not quite sure how to proceed. She had not been in such a situation before. She
had dated people in relationships, but had never had to confront anyone like
this. She did not know anything about Moyin, but disliked her instantly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> ‘I have to go now’ said Naffy looking at Bayo
as she brought out her car keys. She refused to engage Moyin who seemed to be
acting out a scenario she had played over in her head many times. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh wow. How
pleasant you are. Bayo sure has great taste in whores’ she replied in her tiny
voice, trying to provoke a reaction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘That is enough
Moyin’ said Bayo never taking his eyes off Naffy as she entered her car. He
started to walk back towards the hall as Naffy drove off, leaving Moyin
standing there. She walked up after Bayo calling his name, and he ignored her. As
he got back into the hotel lobby, she caught up to him, her heels clicking
loudly with each step and she pulling his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Bayo, how dare you
walk away from me? I am talking to you....’ said Moyin her voice getting even
higher<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I guess all your
surprise visits have finally paid off.’ said Bayo as he pulled his hand from
her grasp. He kept walking back into the hall, knowing that she would never
cause a scene. She worried too much about appearance and people’s perception to
do that. He knew she would stay for the length of the party, ensuring that all
his friends and family saw what a perfect girlfriend she was, and then use this
to emotionally blackmail him. She was predictable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He needed a stiff
drink to be able to endure the rest of the evening. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nafisat knew that
the party would be awkward, but she had no idea it would get so dramatic. She
was upset at herself for not keeping it professional. She had not even been
able to see Professor Phillips and she knew her boss would not be pleased. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As she drove past
Lagosians making the most of their traffic free weekend, her phone rang again.
It was Nuhu. She knew she had to pick up this time or risk an argument later. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Hey hey’ she said
as she picked up trying to sound cheerful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Nafisat, I called
you earlier, where were you?’ he started. He always called her full name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I was at a party
for my boss. I did not hear it ring’ she lied easily <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh what party?
Where was it? Are you driving yourself at this time? Where is your driver?’ he
began <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Calm down mana’ she
started, getting impatient with his questions. ‘It was a party for a member of
one our board members, Professor Phillips. It was at Oriental and it isn’t too
far away from my house so I am driving myself, I am almost home anyway’ she
lied again<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Why are you
driving yourself when you have a driver?’ he asked <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Because the driver
doesn’t work on weekends. This isn’t Kano Nuhu, people here have lives outside
of those they work for’ she snapped back at him<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Well there’s
another reason you won’t find me there anytime soon. Besides, why can’t you use
one of your uncle’s drivers?’ he replied <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I am already
driving myself so can we drop it please. How have you been?’ attempting to
steer the conversation in another direction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I have been good.
Got back from Zurich yesterday. I was there with Uncle Ahmed on a delegation.’
He replied<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh, I didn’t know
you travelled’ she replied. Then again, they had not spoken to each other in a
week and he was never in one place for too long so it was no surprise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yea I did. It was
freezing babe. By the way, great news about on your uncle’s appointment. Can
you come to Abuja tomorrow? I am here for the week.’ He replied<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ahh so that is why
he called. To summon her for a meeting with her uncle. He could always arrange
a meeting without her, but it would be much easier to speak to him when he was
at home and relaxed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘No I cannot. I
have got work during the week, I am not sure about the weekend....’said Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Are we really
going to have this conversation AGAIN? It is just service year Nafisat. No one
is going to die, if you don’t show up at work for a couple of days....’ he
began getting annoyed <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘It is my job Nuhu.
I cannot leave because you summon me without any notice. I have deadlines,
things are expected of me. It is not a joke to me’ she also replied getting
upset at his tone. Although she was talking to him through her car speakers,
the conversation was distracting her and Lagosians in their impatient manner
had begun to honk at her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She knew her job
was a joke to him. She was certainly not working for the money and he could not
understand why she took it seriously. He had objected to her coming to Lagos,
but since her dad had approved, there was nothing he could do about it. He
seized every opportunity to tell her what he thought about her working, and
made it clear that as soon as they got married, she would never step foot into
an office working for someone else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Alright Nafisat. Ki
yi duk abunda kike so. Do whatever you want. Like always. I will be in Abuja
this week regardless’ he said ‘I have to go now, I’ve also got work to do that
absolutely cannot wait for anything. Bye’ he put down the phone abruptly <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She was glad that
he had put down the phone and not her. Most of their conversations ended with
someone getting annoyed and hanging up. They both had tempers and had little
tolerance for arguments so hanging up or walking away worked well with them.
Farida would laugh at her again, when she told her about this argument.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She drove home in
silence, listening to the Frank Ocean c.d Bayo had made for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As she pulled up to
her street, she saw a huge line of cars parked outside her house. Her uncle was
home with his usual posy of men. Now that he had been appointed the Senate
President, she knew the number of men around him would treble. Her aunt never
came to Lagos with him and her children were all in boarding school in
Switzerland. However, there were never shortages of women around her uncle when
he was in Lagos. He particularly liked Benin women as he had lived there for a
while when he was younger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She parked outside
and gave the keys to one of the guards who would park it in the house when the
guests had left. She walked into the house saying hello to dozens of men before
seeing her uncle in the living room. His face lit up as she walked up to him
and he pulled her in a bear hug. Like her father, he also had 4 sons but did not have a daughter, and so he spoilt her like his only daughter. He had gotten her the job at
Gloval oil, and always encouraged her to do whatever she wanted. He taught her
how to ride a bike and had given her her first cigarette when she was 14. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Ina gajiya uncle’
she greeted him. His baba riga always smelt of whiskey and expensive cigars. He
was an unorthodox muslim that never prayed and ate bacon. His wife was a
Kalabari woman who had adopted the Northern lifestyle to perfection and spoke
fluent Hausa. Their marriage was one she envied. They still seemed in love
despite her uncle’s countless mistresses. As busy as he was, he never forgot a
birthday or anniversary. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Everyone, this is
my Naf Naf’ he announced to the room loudly. ‘She is going to be the first
female President of Nigeria’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She smiled at him,
wondering why her family could not have such big dreams for her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘How have you been
my dear? How is Nosa treating you at Gloval?’ he asked in his characteristic
loud voice. He was the only person she knew who called her boss by his first
name.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> ‘He is working me to death uncle’ she replied <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Don’t pretend you
don’t love it. That reminds me, when are you done with your service again? This
Chinese company had been granted approval to start oil exploration here in
Lagos. I was just with the Chinese ambassador yesterday and he mentioned that
they need some people to head up some units.’ he said<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘That is really
funny, because my boss has been trying to partner up with them to do some work.
He actually asked me to mention it to you, he says you are impossible to reach
these days.’ Said Naffy with a smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh really? I have
this new P.A, and he seems to select the messages he delivers to me. Call Nosa,
let me give him a good talking to.’ He replied good naturedly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She hurriedly got
out her phone, knowing this would put her in his very good books. She knew
getting even 5 minutes with him now would be a problem. Her boss picked up on
the 2<sup>nd</sup> ring. He was always with his phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes Nafisat’ he
answered. He thought ‘Hellos’ and ‘Goodbyes’ were a waste of time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Good evening sir.
I have my uncle here’ she said before passing him the phone <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Junior Nosa, I
hear you are giving my baby a hard time’ he started laughing loudly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He walked out of
the room with her phone and she followed him at a distant to eavesdrop. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Nafs’ someone
yelled behind her. She turned around to see Farida walking towards her holding an overnight bag. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Hey babe, what are
you doing here?’ she asked surprised<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">‘Are you ok? Your
uncle is currently the 3</span></span><sup style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">rd</sup><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> most important man in Nigeria and you are
asking me that question? By the way, if I </span></span><span style="line-height: 24px;">hadn't</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> found out he was in town were
you planning on calling me?’ she asked her questions rhetorically. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Wawia kawai, You
don’t have any sense ai’ she retorted. She heard her uncle laughing loudly in
the balcony and put her hands on her mouth signalling Farida to be quiet. She
needed to hear this conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">One of his aides
walked past her into the balcony to interrupt him and she cursed Farida for
distracting her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He came back out
and handed her phone back. ‘Naf Naf, I have to go. We have a lot to talk about.
Schedule a lunch with the three of us ok? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Of course Uncle.
Who is your head PA now? You change them more often than I anyone I know!’ asked
Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘My baby, it is
because they are all incompetent morons! I would schedule my own meetings and
type my own speeches if I had more hours in the day! I will be back tonight,
but I head out first thing in the morning. Don’t wait up’ he said as he hurried
away followed by a bunch of men. He smiled at Farida as she said hello to him
on his way out!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">‘You </span></span><span style="line-height: 24px;">couldn't</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> even
introduce me properly’ Farida began as the living room emptied out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I still do not
understand how knowing my uncle helps you out. He does not need a stylist or
personal shopper.’ replied Naffy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes but his wife and girlfriends do’ she replied jokingly<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">They headed
upstairs to her living space. It had a large living room, kitchenette, two bathrooms
and her bedroom. Bayo teased her that her bedroom alone was twice the size of
the penthouse apartment in London he blew all his money on. It had a large walk
in wardrobe which was filled with clothes, shoes, bags and accessories, most of
which she had not seen in years. She had used Carrie Bradshaw as her
inspiration, and had everything neatly colour coded. She had a large wooden
dressing table with dozens of perfume bottles, most of which she had taken from
her mother. However, the best part of her room was the large transparent double
doors that opened to a large balcony. It overlooked the huge houses of Ikoyi with
a glimpse of the ocean meeting the horizon. It was here she spent most of her
time when she was at home. It was littered with sketches that she hadn’t finished.
She mostly sketched in pencil, but had paint and paint brushes stacked neatly
in a corner by her cleaner. She only sketched when she was alone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Farida walked into
her room and commented on how pristine it always was and calling her a control
freak. For a stylist, Farida was as scattered as could be. She was forever
forgetting things, loosing items, missing deadlines and was always late. She made
up for this with her incredible social skills and impeccable eye for fashion. She
was always well styled, from her makeup to her nails, and never had a hair out
of place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Farida and Naffy
met in New York University at the very first African Students meeting of the
term. They became friends immediately, bonding because no else could speak
Hausa. They fought countless times because Naffy had a temper and Farida was
vicious. Farida was every parent’s nightmare. She had no regard for authority
or rules and was vindictive. The one thing that Farida loved more than
anything, including fashion, was men. Lots of them. She had dated numerous
guys, of various races and background. The only thing they had in common was
that they were all wealthy. She claimed not believe in love, but Naffy knew
that this was because her biggest fear was that she would end up like her
mother. She had been raised by her single mother who had been the mistress to
one of the richest men in Kano. Her mother had refused to marry her father as
his 4<sup>th</sup> wife, and preferred the role of mistress because it gave her
the freedom she desired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Farida had a
strange relationship with her mother that bordered between love and hate, respect
and contempt. Every time Farida did something irrational, Naffy would forgive
her because she had no other family and few friends. She knew a lot of people,
usually important people, but none of them got close enough to be called her
friend. She was however, extremely loyal and caring to people she held close.
She once spent a night in prison because she did not want to give up the name
of a friend that wrote one of her school essays. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Do you know how I
know you are a freak?’ asked Farida with a smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I know you will
tell me anyway’ said Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Because your
perfume bottles are arranged according to their height’ said Farida examining
them closely. ‘Your collection is getting old oh, when next are you going to
Kano to get some more?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I haven’t returned
my mum’s calls. I think she wants me to come up soon. By the way Nuhu called me
today, he says he’s in Abuja for the week and wants me to come up.’ Replied
Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh really? Are you
going to go?’ asked Farida<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Of course not.
Unlike you I don’t work for myself, I have people that rely on me.’ Naffy said
getting annoyed <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘How did he
respond?’ asked Farida<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">‘As expected. He </span></span><span style="line-height: 24px;">doesn't</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> see the point in my job, or being in Lagos and of course he </span><span style="line-height: 24px;">doesn't</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> like being
refused. I really don’t understand how he wants to marry me and not get used to
me refusing him’ replied Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Naffy the Iron
lady’ said Farida with a chuckle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘What do you think?’
asked Naffy with a confused smile <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I think like me,
you will only do what you want to do’ replied Farida, as she tested out her
perfumes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Farida was usually
very opinionated, but when it came to Nuhu, Naffy had noticed that Farida chose
to stay neutral. During one of their arguments, Naffy had told Farida that she
was jealous of her getting married. She seemed hurt by this, and Naffy assumed this was why she never made
any comments about her impending nuptials. She hoped it would change over time.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I am starving. By
the way, how was the party?’ asked Farida turning away from the perfume bottles
to watch her<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">‘It was alright,
usual Lagos shindig’ she replied with a small smile. There had been nothing
usual about that party. She </span></span><span style="line-height: 24px;">wondered</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> for a moment how Bayo was doing. She knew
he would be stressed and would probably drink a bit too much. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I am hungry too.
Let me take a shower and we’ll go and get something to eat. I doubt the cook
has prepared anything with all the commotion going on in this house’ said Naffy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As she took off her
clothes to get into the shower, she asked ‘By the way, do you know a Moyin that
lives in Ikoyi? She’s smallish, I think goes to school in England...? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Does she have this
really high pitched voice and talks really fast? Asked Farida with a smile<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes actually, she
does...’ said Naffy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Oh my gosh, I
cannot stand that heifer! I met her once at this launch thing. She’s really
loaded and well connected though, I could definitely use her as a client’
replied Farida. She never turned her business side off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘How do you know
her?’ asked Farida<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘I met her at the
party tonight’ lied Naffy<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Yes that is
expected, I think she is dating Phillip’s son’ said Farida. She liked to call
people by their last names. There was no point asking her how she knew Moyo or
who she was dating. Farida made it her business to know these things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Call the driver to
get the car ready. <i>Ina son suya, </i>been
a while I had suya’ said Naffy as she stepped into the shower.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Farida walked out of
the room to get the driver and she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She
knew who it was before she saw the caller I.D. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She picked up
without looking at the screen and said in a hushed tone walking quickly down
the stairs<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">‘Nuhu, I told you
not to call me tonight, I am at Naf’s house’<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Century Gothic, sans-serif;">xoxo</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Century Gothic, sans-serif;">Miss B</span></div>
miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-84491581781323221482013-01-23T13:40:00.001+01:002013-01-23T13:40:05.662+01:00Happy Birthday to Me!Hello blogworld,<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW0VOe5zGzDQiCYDI6vj-myr9MMZQ5uSU8Sgkc1Mip4FZ3EOARNsBfgTkuL__H2YureTCD1meShpXOjcKNhl0mrYrSqofDjYwp3yLEH0T9JR7Oa13yeV2GcVFyASkGn674lzpUgW58V9A/s1600/IMG_2546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW0VOe5zGzDQiCYDI6vj-myr9MMZQ5uSU8Sgkc1Mip4FZ3EOARNsBfgTkuL__H2YureTCD1meShpXOjcKNhl0mrYrSqofDjYwp3yLEH0T9JR7Oa13yeV2GcVFyASkGn674lzpUgW58V9A/s400/IMG_2546.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I am 25 years old today! I thought I would be depressed because I am a quarter century but I am actually really happy. My friends at work say a lady shouldn't tell her age, so I need to start practicing saying 'I am old enough'! I am now too old to contest for Miss Nigeria!<br />
I am blessed to have the best family in the world. My friends are absolutely amazing and are always there for me. I am healthy and I have achieved everything I set out to. What do I have to complain about?<br />
<br />
Well I wish I was 25 sitting on 25mill like Tyga, but other than that life is pretty great!<br />
<br />
I pray Allah gives me many more years to come.<br />
<br />
Thank you all for reading my posts!<br />
<br />
Lots of Love<br />
xoxo<br />
Miss Bmiss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-77766189047233562622013-01-22T15:29:00.000+01:002013-04-11T12:13:35.783+01:00Palmgrove Letters: Part 2Palmgroove Letters Part One can be found <a href="http://naijadaydreamer.blogspot.com/2013/01/new-story-palmgrove-letters.html">HERE</a><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">As Naffy ran across the terminal in her high
heels, she knew she would never make the meeting in time. Damn these Nigerian
airlines that never kept to their schedule. Her meeting in
Port Harcourt had gone smoothly and she had all the procurement papers signed.
She made it back to the airport in time to hear the announcement that her
flight had been delayed for 30 minutes, then an hour, then two. By 2pm she was
still in Port Harcourt. Her phone had been ringing none stop as she was trying
to brief her boss and the bank directors on the details. With their busy
schedules, this meeting had taken months to plan and could not be concluded
without the procurement papers that she had just collected. Her boss really
should have let her use the company jet. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">As she walked out of Murtala Muhammed Airport,
Mr Segun was waiting for her knowing what was at stake. He would have to drive
like a maniac to make it from the airport to V.I. The traffic as to be expected
on a Friday afternoon moved at snail’s pace. This was one thing she would not
miss about Lagos. There was traffic in Kano but it was child's play compared to
Lagos. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She stormed into the Standard Chartered building
at 4pm. Keeping such important people waiting actually felt good. As she walked
into the big glass conference room, she wished had smoked a cigarette
beforehand. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Her boss stood up and introduced her to the
room. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">'This is the lady we have all been waiting for'
he said jokingly. 'She has brought us exciting presents in envelopes'. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">The whole room laughed politely.</span><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">'I have always maintained that the best gifts
always come on paper. Money, shares, agreements etc'. The whole room consisting
of 11 men and 1 woman in expensive clothes chuckled. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">Her boss introduced everyone and the fourth man
was introduced as 'Professor Abiodun Phillips, one of the members of the board
of directors.' No one needed to tell her that he was Bayo's dad. He was tall,
dark, broad shoulders with thick glasses. He said 'how do you do young lady' in
polished English, like an older and more refined Bayo. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">She suddenly became even more nervous, and her
mouth went dry. She really, really should have had that cigarette. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">She did what she had been taught by her American
friend every time she had a presentation and got nervous. She pictured everyone
naked, chuckled to herself, and then started giving the details of the
agreement that she had with oil contractors. Once she got started on the
details, her confidence returned and she delivered impeccably. </span><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">As she finished, her boss concluded, 'so lady and
gentlemen, according to Nafisat's projections, we are about to become very
rich' </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">Everyone chucked again. Nafisat took the
agreement that had taken her weeks to prepare to every board member to sign
amongst general chit chat. Everyone shoke hands and as they were getting ready
to leave, Mr Phillips made an announcement. </span><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘As most of you know, my wife is imposing a
birthday party on me tomorrow. She has insisted I remind you all so please RSVP
to her and bring your dancing shoes’. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Everyone laughed and began to trickle out,
congratulating her on a job well done.</span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She cleared up all the paperwork and closed her
laptop while waiting for her boss to finish his banter in the Lobby. She
pulled out her blackberry from her pocket and checked her messages for the
first time all day. It flashed red from her low battery as usual. She was
surprised that her friends even bothered to contact her because she never
replied to personal messages till the end of the day. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Her boss walked towards her beaming and she knew
he was in a good mood. This is a good time to bring up travel with the jet she
thought to herself with a smile. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">'Excellent job Nafisat. I expect to see the
suggested amendments in my inbox tomorrow morning.' He always expected
everything tomorrow morning, regardless of if tomorrow was a weekend or
holiday. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">They walked outside where his car was waiting and
she got into the back seat of his black Mercedes with him as Mr Segun followed
behind then in her car. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">'I am sorry about the delay sir' Nafisat started
'But these airlines are becoming increasingly unreliable, I was having a look
at the policy on the company jet the other day, and it seems that some of my
travel would be eligible for.....'</span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Her boss never took his eyes off his IPhone,
probably monitoring stock prices. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">He interrupted her and said 'You have to go to
Professor Phillips birthday tomorrow on my behalf. Governor Moghalu's
daughter's wedding is tomorrow in Enugu so I will be flying out in the morning.'
He called his personal assistant immediately and said 'Yes Kate, call Professor
Phillip’s wife to RSVP for his birthday tomorrow, Nafisat will be representing
me. Yes, the head of the board of S.C. Any word from the embassy? Ok keep me
informed'. He put down the phone abruptly, never saying bye. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">'But sir, I have to attend my friend's
wedding....' she lied. She knew running into Bayo in Lagos was inevitable, but
she did not think it would be this soon, certainly not at his dad's
dinner. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">'You have done this many times before, show up
for an hour with a gift and make sure you are seen. Continue with your weekend
plans' he said abruptly. 'You were saying something about the jet?'</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">'Erm yes, I looked through the company policy on
the jet.....' she started</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">'I'm sure you know the answer is no' he
interrupted with a chuckle never taking his eyes off his phone. 'But if you ask
your uncle to facilitate the deal with China, the maybe we can reconsider' he
said as they pulled up to the front of Gloval Towers. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">She chuckled because he knew she had no
influence over her uncle, and even if she did, she was not travelling on the
jet. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">She got out of the car after him and followed
him to the office. He gave her some more instructions which she took down
before she ran back out to her car. The more he saw her, the more work he would
assign. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">'Mr Segun, please take me to Farida's' she
instructed as she lit up a cigarette.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'How the meeting?' he asked curiously. He loved
to know what was happening in the company so he would boast to his friends at
the joint how work was in the Oil and Gas sector' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'It was good oh, we got them to sign the
contract' she replied cheerily. It had been a good day. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">It was another bad day for Bayo. The caterer's
cheque had been bounced and they were threatening not to turn up for the party.
His mum had called him in panic asking him to fix it, so he was stuck in the
bank, closing time on a Friday, trying to withdraw a huge sum to take to them
in cash. He had been in the middle of a meeting with his website developers
when she had called, and they were getting fed up with him. His mum had a P.A
and he didn't understand why he had to run such errands. The caterer's office
was on the mainland and he was bracing himself for the traffic ahead. Unlike
with his dad, he never delegated work his mum gave to him. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">He had been thinking about Nafisat the whole day.
He had not bothered calling or messaging her because he knew she would ignore
it. He always told her she should have joined the military like her
father. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">He seemed to see her everywhere. She was tall,
slim and very fair. She had one of those faces that made it difficult to figure
out where she was from. People would stare at her, trying to figure out if she
was mixed race, Lebanese or Fulani. She had a cold and withdrawn look, so few
people dared to approach her. The few that tried would be quickly shut down.
She was not friendly and did not like mindless chit chat. It had been difficult
when she lived in the States not to appear rude because Americans loved endless
talk. Bayo always teased her that she would have fit in a lot better with the
British. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">As he drove to the caterer's with a ton of money
in a bag, he remembered when he first saw her. She had walked into his friend's
house party and as usual, everyone stared. His friends whistled by his side and
said, 'Omo, too many fine chics dey this Lagos, they won kill person' </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">Femi, the ladies’ man immediately walked towards
her as she said hi to people. He stayed next to Tobi, whose birthday it was, as
she walked towards him. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Hey Tobs' she said cheerily as she approached
him. 'You don dey old oh' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Tobi chuckled at her attempt at broken English
and said 'The only girl whose broken is worse than mine. I don't think it's
meant to be spoken in a Pseudo Hausa/American accent' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Abegi, free me oh' she replied </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">They continued to banter and Femi getting tired
of Tobi ignoring him said 'Hi, I'm Femi, since Tobi has no manners'
stretching out his hand.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Oh hi, I am Nafisat' she replied with a
smile. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Oh is that Hausa?' he interrupted as she
attempted to continue chatting with Tobi</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Tobi got the hint and excused himself. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'No, it is a Muslim name' she replied already
sensing that he wanted to chat and looking for an escape.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Lagosians loved to talk, especially the men. She
missed the reserved nature of Northern men, who barely approached women in
public. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Oh really, but you are Hausa now?' he replied
mockingly</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'No I am not' she replied curtly </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'So where are you from?'</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I am from Borno' said Nafisat</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Ahn Ahn, so how aren't you Hausa' he replied
with confidence</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Not everyone from the North is Hausa' she
replied. She did not feel the need to give him a geography lesson so she
excused herself. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I will see you later then?' he asked as she
walked away </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She smiled briefly in reply and walked towards a
waiter to get some water but what she really wanted was a cigarette. Damn you
Farida for not coming with me she thought. She was new to Lagos and didn't know
any of Tobi's friends. They had met at MIT and he had become one of her closest
friends.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She got to the bar to order a drink. A guy at
the bar said 'hey, I think I know you....'</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I don't think so' she replied as she walked
away again, not waiting for her drink. She walked outside to look for somewhere
private to smoke. Next to Tobi's house was an uncompleted plot and she walked
towards it, lighting up her cigarette. She took a very long drag when she heard
someone speak from behind her.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'How long has it been since your last fag?'
asked Bayo</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She turned around to see a tall bespectacled guy
with his hands behind his back. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Because you took that drag like I did after
about 3 months of trying to quit' he continued</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Nafisat smiled, 'is it that obvious?' she
asked </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Yes, it really is' said Bayo. 'Sounded like you
were taking in some oxygen after being underwater'</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'That's what it felt like' replied Naffy</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'So how long has it been? A month, 2 months,
dare I say 3? asked Bayo</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Its been about 6 hours' said Naffy with a
smile. 'I know, I know, my lungs look like the ones on this packet!' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I know this amazing secret that can help you
stop' said Bayo with a cheeky smile. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'What makes you think I want to stop?' replied
Naffy </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Are you on the you only live once campaign?'
asked Bayo</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I wouldn't quite phrase it like that' said
Naffy 'So what's your excuse for being here in the dark?' she asked</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">He smiled a mischievous smile and said, 'Oh you
know, just taking in the beauty of mother nature'</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'You mean kushing?' she retorted </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I have no idea what you are talking about' he
said with a straight face. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I wouldn't mind some if you care to offer' she
smiled </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'I do care to offer' he said as brought his
hands from behind his back and passed her his spliff </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She accepted it with eyes glistening and offered
him her cigarette </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">He declined shaking his head, 'I have given up
smoking'</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She chuckled, 'You do see the irony here'</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'More than you know' he responded 'By the way my
name is Bayo' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Nafisat' she replied as she took a long drag
and passed it to him. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'This is the part where you ask me what it means
or where I am from and the like' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Well I know that Nafisat is an Arabic name
meaning Something Precious or Priceless and I assume I will get to know where
you are from when we get to know each other better' he replied with his know it
all attitude.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'When? That's awfully certain of you.' said
Naffy</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">He gave her a knowing smile and said 'I have to
get back in Nafisat. It was nice to have met you' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Of course, thank you for sharing your mother
nature with me' she replied</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She watched him walk inside and smiled to
herself. He was intriguing. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">It was 5pm on Saturday and Nafisat's bed was
piled with clothes as she tried to figure out what to wear to Professor
Phillips birthday dinner at Oriental. Farida usually picked out her clothes for
her but she had to style people who actually paid her first. She had tried her
number endlessly with no response. She decided to wear a dress that Farida had
given to her from one of the many events she attended. Farida always bought a
size smaller in the hope that she would lose weight but it usually meant that
Naffy got to wear them. It was a purple floor length gown with long sleeves. It
was made of shiny brocade and she paired it with a gold scarf which she wrapped
around her head. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Bayo had asked her why she bothered to cover her
hair on leaving the house since the scarves never seemed to stay on. She had
replied that it was for the same reason he left the house with a wallet full of
money and it never stayed in!</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"> Remembering that made her smile. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She missed him a lot. It was especially hard
because they spent most of their time together in her room. Although Bayo loved
to go out and socialise, Naffy preferred to stay indoors and sketch. She loved
to draw, and her balcony was littered with various sketches that she had
started and was yet to complete. She did not particularly like eating so Bayo's
attempts to take her to the new 'it' restaurants failed. She did not drink
either so she did not like going to bars or clubs. She convinced him to stay
indoors with her where they would talk for hours about everything under the
sun. Usually Bayo did most of the talking and she would simply watch him
intently and listen. He could talk for hours on end and she never got
bored of listening to him. They would smoke shisha, weed and cigarettes until
they ran out.</span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">He would eventually leave because his parents’ or
someone called him and she would watch him as he got dressed. She always wanted
to beg him to stay but something always stopped her. She wasn't sure if it was
her pride, stubbornness or the fact that she knew she had no right to him. It
was the first time in her life where she wanted something and knew she could
not have it. Poverty must be a horrible feeling.</span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">He would leave her sheets smelling of his
perfume. She had tried to explain to the cleaner that her sheets didn't need
changing daily, just so she would his smell linger, but he would simply change
it a day later. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">All across her room and living room upstairs
there were memories of him. There were burn marks all over her rug from shisha
when they would fight over the pipe. Her walk in wardrobe reminded her of when
she hid his phone there because it wouldn't stop ringing. Her dresser reminded
her of when he would help zip up her dress as she was getting ready. Her shower
reminded her of the time when.....</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'snap out of it' she said to herself </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She put on some eyeliner, lipstick and perfume
and walked out the door grabbing her car keys. Mr Segun rarely worked on
weekends so she would be driving herself. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">As she drove towards Oriental she wished she had
more female friends. It would have been more bearable to have someone tag along
to these things. Her phone rang out, and she saw that it was Farida returning
her calls.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Woman, where have you been?' asked Naffy</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'These fucking Lagos big women will be the death
of me. This woman tried on 8 outfits I brought for her and it seems none is
'quite right'. Can you imagine? What the fuck does that even mean?....' yelled
Farida</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Calm down, where are you now?' asked Naffy</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Heading for a meeting with that guy from the
reality show' replied Farida</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Oh wow, thanks for including me in all your
weekend plans dear friend' she said dryly</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Oh my bad sweetie, I assumed you would be going
for Professor Phillip’s birthday thing, Ki ya kuri' she apologised</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Wait, how did you know he was having a party,
or that I would be going?' asked Naffy</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'It is my job to know what’s going on in Lagos
babes.' replied Farida. Her phone beeped with an incoming call, 'gotta run hun,
potential client calling, kisses' said Farida as she hung up. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Farida could not be more of an opposite to her
if she tried. She had always thought that Farida and Bayo would make a great
couple. But he hadn't met any of her friends or family, and she preferred to
keep it that way. It was complicated enough as it was. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">As she drove into the hotel parking lot she said
a silent prayer 'May I not run into Bayo tonight' </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">She walked into the lobby with her high heels
clicking, it was not hard to tell which hall belonged to the Professor
Phillips. There were loads of distinguished looking men and women in suits and
traditional attire waiting to hand in their invitations and get searched by
security. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Naffy smiled at the grandeur of the beautifully
decorated hall. Lagosians knew how to throw parties. There was a live band
already playing, drowned by the sound of people laughing and socialising. She
signed the guest register and dropped the company card and gift, before proceeding
to get her picture taken by the official photographer. She was a professional
now. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">As she scanned the room looking for Professor
Phillips, she saw Bayo. He had his back to her and was whispering something in
his mum's ear with a smile on his face. It was obvious he adored her. He wore a
black tuxedo, and he didn't need to turn around for her to know he looked very
handsome. Her palms started to get sweaty and she suddenly craved a
cigarette. </span><br />
<span style="background: white;">'Fuck, fuck fuck' she swore under her breath.
She knew she would run into him, but not so soon, and certainly not looking
this good. He was busy and had not seen her so she walked towards the back to
sit amongst people her age. She would not stay longer than an hour, shorter if
she was able to grab Professor Phillip's attention earlier, but he was nowhere
to be seen. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She sat at a table laden with food, drinks and
plenty of fresh flowers, pondereing how she would get Professor Phillip's
attention and avoid Bayo's simultaneously It was going to be a long
night.</span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"> She had no idea how long. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">As she made small talk
with the person sat next to her, she scanned the room again. Professor Phillips
certainly was not there or she would have spotted him. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">'So beautiful, you
still haven't told me your name' asked the man sat next to her with a full
tooth smile. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">'It’s Nafisat' she
replied curtly trying not to sound as disinterested as she felt. He did not
notice.</span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">'Emeka is the name' he
replied in a thick Igbo accent. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘How do you know
Prof?’ asked Emeka. He had to be exaggerating this Igbo accent thought Nafisat.
No one speaks like this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘He is a friend
of my boss’ she replied curtly ‘I am sorry but you have to excuse me’ she said
as she got up to walk towards Professor Philips who had just walked in the door
surrounded by a dozen people. She zig zaged amongst the chairs hoping to catch
him before he got to his table when she was abruptly stopped by one of the
members of the board. She exchanged pleasantries and explained the absence of
her boss. By the time she looked up, Professor Phillips was nowhere to be seen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She changed
directions and made her way towards the sea of people around the stage when she
saw Bayo amongst the crowd. She spun around abruptly and walked towards the
door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She was glad for
the burst of humid air that wrapped around her when she walked out of the
revolving doors of the hotel. She got cold really easily and the air
conditioning in the hall had been freezing despite her long sleeve dress. She
wrapped her scarf tightly around her and reached for a cigarette. The sun was
setting over the ocean and there was a small breeze that carried the smell
ocean with it. There were small sail boats with people being transported
from one end of Lagos to another. There were jet skis racing across the water,
dwarfed by huge sail boats belonging to the Lagos elite. The water seemed to go
on endlessly, until it merged with the sun in the horizon. It was picturesque,
and she took a mental picture to sketch later on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"> She walked
slowly towards her car, enjoying the view and contemplating if she should stay
or go for a ride and return in a bit when there were less people. She had a
feeling that this party would go on well into the early hours of the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Suddenly, she
heard footsteps behind her and a male voice calling out ‘Aunty Aunty’. She did
not turn around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">A man approached
her from behind, and said in a deep voice that he had been looking for her. She
turned to look at him, still walking, and ignored him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘Aunty, na you I
dey talk to? No be you park this Messdis for here?’ he said aggressively
pointing to her car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She had no idea
who he was, and since the parking lot was getting dark, she continued to walk
towards her car. He followed her at a distance, mumbling to her. As she got to
her car, she saw that it had been clamped. Behind her car was a sign that said
‘Director Only’ which had definitely not been there when she had parked earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">This immediately
pissed her off and she turned to him and said<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘What is this?
Take that clamp off at once’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘Aunty no need for all this grammar wey you wan start. You park
for unauthorised zone so you must pay fine of N25,000’ he said angrily</span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘You are insane’
started Naffy angrily. ‘You had better take this clamp off before I lose my
temper’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘Me I no insane
oh. Na my work I dey do. You no shine your eye see sey you no suppose park
here....’ he replied also angrily<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">This enraged her
because she knew he was lying. She put her purse on the floor, put out her
cigarette on the floor and began attempting to remove the clamp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘Ahn ahn, wetin
dey worry you?’ he said shocked at her sudden movement. He moved close to her
and attempted to pull her away from the clamp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Naffy’s shock at
his touch, sent her into a blinding rage, and she gave him a resounding slap on
the face. ‘Don’t you ever touch me’ she said shaking with anger.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">He seemed taken
aback at first and then came closer to her in a menacing way. ‘O danpe iya yi
tin ya were? shey you dey crase ni? He shouted<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She realised the stupidity of her actions. She was alone, in
a dark parking lot with a big black angry man whom she had just slapped but she
was never one to back down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘You have no
right to put your hands on me...’ she responded<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She heard quick
footsteps walking towards the parking lot and she said a silent
‘Alhamdullilahi’ for whoever it was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">He quickly
stepped away from her, also turning to see who was coming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She knew it was
Bayo before she saw his face. He had a brisk walk, from too many winter nights
walking around campus. His tall, broad shoulders could be made out from the
shadows before he came towards them and asked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘What is going
on? Who are you?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">The man seemed
irritated by his appearance, as if he had been expecting someone else. He
replied ‘I am an officer of the Lagos State Parking Enforcement Board, and I am
performing my duty’ suddenly speaking proper English. People hardly spoke to
Bayo in broken or slang English as he sounded very intimidating.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘Come here’ he
commanded and took the man aside. Naffy could hear Bayo talking calmly to the
man as he switched to Yoruba. This relaxed the man, and after speaking for a
while pointing towards Naffy, he started to smile. He suddenly started praising
him, calling him Oga mi and my chairman. Bayo handed him a wad of notes, and
the man hastily unclamped her car, with a big smile on his face. He walked away
with his clamp on his shoulder still calling out Bayo’s name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Nafisat watched
Bayo walk back towards her and said ‘Thank you so....’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘I cannot believe
you can be so stupid’ he started<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Naffy was shocked
at his outburst, especially because he had never raised his voice at her
before. Bayo was always very calm, an attribute she blamed on him being high
most of the time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘Sorry?’ she
replied<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘How can you be
so irresponsible so as to endanger yourself like this? He told me that you
slapped him? In the middle of this dark parking lot with no one in sight? Do
you know what he could have done to you?’ he continued with his outburst<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘I just lost my
temp....’ she tried to reply<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘Anything. He
could have done anything to you here. He could have beaten you, robbed you,
even raped you...’ he started<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">As he yelled at
her, she saw the look of fear in his eyes as he said the last words and she
felt so glad he was here. This was not the first time he had put out fires she
had started with her temper. She always seemed to be in confrontations in
Lagos. Whenever anyone did something she did not agree with, she made it a point
to let them know. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">When she was in Kano or Abuja, no one
dared to talk back to her, but Lagosians were aggressive people and would
always give her an abrupt response. </span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"> She had gotten so used to him being there to make peace that
she put herself in danger without thinking of the reprecautions.</span><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">As she watched
him yell at her, her heart longed for him even more. She reached for his hand,
pulled him gently towards her and gave him a tight hug. Her head on his chest,
she could feel his heartbeat really fast. He slowly began to hug her back, and
she felt his heartbeat relax.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘I am sorry’ she
mumbled into his chest, inhaling his Tom Ford perfume. She felt at home being
wrapped in his arms. She began to realise that she was treading on very
dangerous waters. This was no longer a fun thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">He pulled her
away and stared down at her into her eyes. ‘One day I won’t be here to save you
from yourself’ he said to her his usual soft tone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">She stared into
his eyes, knowing that he was right. She wondered how she had survived without
him for the past 26 years. She also wondered if his lips still felt as soft as
they did the last time she kissed him. She leaned up towards him to find out.
He did not hesitate to kiss her back, holding her waist to him like he always
did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">They felt just as
soft, and his kiss was just as passionate as she remembered. The shivers down
her spine and slight dizziness were exactly as she remembered. She kissed him
deeper, and he moaned a little, exactly as she remembered it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">They got lost in
themselves forgetting everything around them. There was loud music and sounds
from the party from a distance, but everything was tuned out. They both heard
quiet footsteps walking towards them, which they both ignored. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">They could not
ignore the voice that gasped loudly a few meters from them. They both pulled
away abruptly to stare at the source.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">‘What the fuck is
going on?’ asked a high pitched voice that was coming closer from the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">A small woman in
a gold strapless dress and red gele with matching lipstick clicked her heels
towards them menacingly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 20.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif;">Moyin was back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">xoxo</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Miss B</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NHC1360CxqzAOS47eD7hQ_bDG_sb1z4HocUjF1Xc0qXMEu6xKVwB5tW3MrgW9kB-oYDuE2ljV-fo6sMJVfNk-dK_-O4oSCbd3X2MjwoNRXMq_B_YC3UvbppYf_IfO2vWl3HtoAjtogA/s1600/IMG-20121229-WA002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="line-height: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NHC1360CxqzAOS47eD7hQ_bDG_sb1z4HocUjF1Xc0qXMEu6xKVwB5tW3MrgW9kB-oYDuE2ljV-fo6sMJVfNk-dK_-O4oSCbd3X2MjwoNRXMq_B_YC3UvbppYf_IfO2vWl3HtoAjtogA/s400/IMG-20121229-WA002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-45875985450009215622013-01-07T15:06:00.001+01:002013-01-10T16:38:02.086+01:00New Story: PalmGrove Letters Part 1Hello all, <br />
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 bukky.bolarinwa@gmail.com, 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 <a href="http://naijadaydreamer.blogspot.com/2010/02/new-storythe-northern-prince.html">HERE</a>.<br />
<br />
Here is another story I have been working on. Comment, RT and let me know what you think. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'They cope just fine'
said Wonu<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Infact they prefer it
this way. They can spend all the money and time they want without us spoiling
their time' said Wale<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Good evening Mr Segun'
she said as she climbed into the back seat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Good evening my
daughter' said Mr Segun in his usual cheery manner. 'You have made plenty money
for your ogas abi?'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'We have oh, we hope they
dash us some' said Nafisat<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">As they crawled closer to
Ikoyi, lights getting brighter and the hustle slowly wearing down for the day,
Nafisat began to doze off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Ina Wuni? Ya ya Aiki
yau? said the chef<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">She turned round sharply
more in fear of knowing who it was than it being a stranger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'I meant what are you
doing here?' replied Nafisat still surprised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'You have not been
picking my phone calls Nafi, it was getting tiring so I decided it would be
better to just show up'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Oh you figured that all
by yourself?' she replied as sarcastically she could<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">He chuckled at her
attempt and replied, 'Yes, I did actually'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Really?' he asked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Yes really' she replied
' Please wait for me in the living room'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">He handed her her things
and walked backwards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">She shut the door and
swore under her breath. May Allah save me from the temptation embodied in this
boy. Amin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'How many of these
Arabian dresses do you have?' he asked with mocking curiosity<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'They look good on you,
but then again most things do' he replied<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Like I said, you weren't
picking my phone calls' He replied<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'That is probably because
you have a girlfriend' she replied curtly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'But you have a fiancé?'
he answered<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'You always knew this,
you on the other hand took it upon yourself to lie to me' she replied her
temper starting to rage<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'I never lied to you
Nafi, you never asked me....'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">Don't pull that lawyer
crap on me, you know as well as I do that an omission is a lie' she snapped
back<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Get out!' she snapped as
she got up from her chair<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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....?'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'I am sorry I didn't
mention it at the beginning Nafy. I should have' he said calmly but with no
remorse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Oga goodnight oh, Sai
Gobe ko?' asked Ali<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">He replied with a grunt
and walked out. It had not been a good day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">blew on cars, alcohol,
partying and an over priced penthouse apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'Good evening sir' he
said to his dad as he walked into the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">Normally, he would walk
away but today was not one of those days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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...'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">Bayo was fed up and
started to walk away. His father, although old was still very agile and pulled
him back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">His dad watched him walk
away and he knew he would not let this act go for a long time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">He picked up and said
'Hey Em'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'I have had a hectic day'
he replied tiredly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">'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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">As he hit the end button
on his IPhone he heard her saying 'Dont you dare....'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Xoxo<br />
Miss B<br />
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miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-12272500963638319142013-01-05T22:57:00.000+01:002013-01-05T22:57:07.444+01:00Happy New YearHello All,<br />
<br />
HAPPY NEW YEAR! <br />
<br />
2012 was not an all round great year, both globally and for Nigeria. Personally, I got called to bar and started NYSC which was the plan so I am grateful for starting and finishing law school as planned. I have started practice in a Law firm so please email me people we can start suing!<br />
<br />
But we made it here now, and alot of people were not so lucky! I pray 2013 brings us all greater things, and Nigeria solves even just one of her millions of problems, preferably constant electricity!!<br />
<br />
My new year resolution is to be more decisive and to live a much healthier lifestyle! What are yours?<br />
<br />
<br />
xoxo<br />
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Miss Bmiss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-55481412094740350942012-11-28T22:06:00.001+01:002012-11-28T22:06:08.252+01:00Male Interviews: Opinon 2<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">Hello Blogworld,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> This is the continuation of my previous post on male perspectives of relationships. If any guys want to participate, I would love to hear from you so send me an email. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">Comment, Tweet, and Enjoy</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">ANCHAVER</span></h4>
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1) </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><b>Tell me
what does a man look for in a girlfriend and how does it differ 4rm what he
looks for in a wife?</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">Basically the same thing, I don't go into a relationship if there is no future
in it. We're better off being mutually beneficial if we can't date. <br />
<br />
2)<b> Is there a marriage age for a guy and if so what is it?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">LOL! I would say 27 to 30, different folks, different strokes though. But 27
seems ideal to me.<br />
<br />
3)<b>How do/did you know your babe is the one?</b><br />
I don't believe it is possible to know the one instantly, there are so many
sides to a person that you have to learn to accommodate and at times tolerate,
most of which take time. So the concept of "the one" is not really
logical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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4)<b>What are your views on divorce</b><br />
I don't want to knock those who go through it, but its not something I support,
divorce damages the fabric of society and has a lot of ripple effects. So I'd
insist on 110% commitment to be sure my relationship is a life time venture.<br />
<br />
5)</span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> <b>Why do
you think divorce is more common these days and in especially in younger couples</b></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><b>?</b><br />
I think its because a lot of people rush into things they are not ready for and
end up rushing out. The more people get divorced, the more excuses others have
to do so.<br />
<br />
6) <b>Do you think your parent’s marriage or divorce influences your decisions in picking
your wife or your marriage? </b><br />
Definitely, you can see their problems, mistakes and successes firsthand, which
is always an ideal learning experience.<br />
<br />
7) <b>Do you think women are less tolerant nowadays or men are less resistant to
change?</b><br />
Well, it goes both ways really. There is the need for tolerance and change on
both parts, so I would have to say yes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">K</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">1) </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><b>Tell me what does a man look for in a girlfriend and how does it
differ 4rm what he looks for in a wife?</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> -Gf: pretty face, good body, good sex; I make sure my gf has the wife
qualities though so that I am not wasting my time. <br />
<br />
Wife: prayerful, home-maker characteristics, mother traits, not
troublesome/feisty, etc<br />
<br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> 2) <b>Is there a marriage age for a guy and if so what is it?</b><br />For me there isn't. I always thought I'd get married at 30/32 but now that I am
in a serious relationship I feel like I can get married in as little as two
years, provided I'm comfortable and independent and able to maintain a home.
Especially because my girlfriend and I are within the same age range. <br /><br /><br />3)How did/do you know your babe is the one?<br />I think it's instinctive and subjective. <br /><br /><br />4) <b>What are your views on divorce</b><br />Ideally, I would never like to divorce. I would rather seek alternative ways of
resolving any disputes, especially after we have had kids together. <br /><br /><br />5)</span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> <b>Why
do you think divorce is more common these days and especially in younger
couples</b>?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">
I think our moral values have lowered a lot, sadly. </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><b>6) Do you think your parent’s marriage or divorce influences your
decisions in picking your wife or your marriage? </b></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br />
Yes, certainly. Luckily my parents have a strong marriage so I watch them. From
the way they relate to each other I have an idea which of their traits I would
pick and which I wouldn't; as well as which of their parenting skills I agree
with and which I do not. <br />
<br />
<br /><b>7) So do you think women are less tolerant nowadays or men are less
resistant to change?</b><br />
I'm not sure I have an answer to that<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">LAMI</span></h4>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">1)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><b>Tell me what does a man look for in a girlfriend and how does it
differ 4rm what he looks for in a wife?</b></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br />Girlfriend = Fun and Adventure. Wife = Companionship and Support.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> 2)<b> Is there a marriage age for a guy and if so what is it? </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">No marriage age but many would
say preferably before 30<br />
<br />3)<b>How did/do you know your babe is the one? </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">I don't have a girlfriend so
cannot answer that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> 4)<b>What are your views on divorce?</b></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">Till death do us part. Unless there is domestic
violence, I'll actively support anyone being abused by a spouse to leave
that relationship. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br /><br /> 5)</span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> <b>Why
do you think divorce is more common these days and especially in younger
couples</b>?</span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">I think people rush into
marriage these days and rush out almost immediately. Either they went in for
the wrong reasons or they are just not patient enough to work through tough
times.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">6) <b>Do you think your parents marriage or divorce influences your decisions
in picking your wife or your marriage? </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">Absolutely. My parents are still together so I
want to make sure I find someone who will stick with me through thick and thin
and vice versa. It's a hard task these days. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><br /><br /> 7) <b>So do you think women are less tolerant nowadays or men are less
resistant to change? </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Rounded MT Bold';">I think the relationship you
find yourself in will dictate the answer to this question. I however also think
that tolerance is not the forte of many women in Nigerian society today.</span></div>
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<b>I've got a couple of more coming up, so stay tuned!</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial Rounded MT Bold;">xoxo</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial Rounded MT Bold;">Miss B</span></div>
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miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-70871103370015791112012-11-13T00:30:00.001+01:002012-11-13T00:30:42.445+01:00Male Interviews: Opinion 1<br />
Hello blog world,<br />
A friend of mine told me about a recently divorced couple in Lagos, both under 30 and it really got me curious. It seems everyday people are getting married but an equal amount are breaking up. But you do not post pictures of the divorce on Bella or BBM. A bunch of my guy friends have been getting married or are engaged and it occurred to me that that there were some questions I had always wanted to know. So I interviewed an array of them from varied backgrounds to ask questions that we really need to know.<br />
I will put up a different person's everyday so please comment and let me know what you think or if you want to participate.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Here is my 30 year cousin who recently got married.<br />
<br />
1) Tell me what does a man look for in a girlfriend and how does it differ 4rm what he looks for in a wife?<br />
<br />
A girlfriend is someone you date and get to know, someone you have fun with spend time with and don't really have any serious commitment or ties to. It differs from a wife because you future is shared with a wife, your goals, dreams and aspirations both personally and professionally. Your wife is your best friend and the one who will pick you up when you are down. <br />
<br />
2) Is there a marriage age for a guy and if so what is it?<br />
<br />
Personally there should be no marriage age for anyone, Marriage age is a fabrication of society as is weight and style. The only thing that matters is when you and your partner are ready. The only catch is children. I decide to marry before 30 so I could have children early and be in a good age range with them as they get older. <br />
<br />
3)How did/do you know your babe is the one?<br />
<br />
You are never sure someone is "the one" you have to trust your gut and go with what god says. Many people say they fell like they married their soul mate, well what about the others that didn't and are still happy. <br />
<br />
4)What are your views on divorce?<br />
<br />
Divorce happens, there is no doubt about it sometimes two people were never meant to be, or they grow apart. It unfortunately is something that happens, however I think people use it as their crutch. <br />
<br />
5)Why do you think divorce is alot more common today especially in younger people?<br />
<br />
The reason for this is divorce is the greatest excuse to quit something. People today are more educated and less patient and would rather walk away due to foolish pride than stay and fight. Love is dead and pride and individualism killed it. When people are so sure that after 3 months a divorce is the ideal thing to do, how can anything last. The media has also glorified divorce, look around at the rate of celebrity divorce that is show to us, nobody ever explains what really happened or if they tried to work on it, they just state the divorce is final. It is simple people would rather quit than to fight hard for something, what does it say about society? <br />
<br />
<br />
6) do you think your parents marriage or divorce influences your decisions in picking your wife or your marriage?<br />
<br />
Yes it absolutely does, everyone wants a life better than their parents, so if you come from a divorce home or a successful home you will always want better (not to be divorced and a better marriage). Nothing is perfect but your decisions and influences are based on your experiences. <br />
<br />
7) So dya think women are less tolerant nowadays or men are less resistant to change?<br />
<br />
I think both. Woman today want the glamour and worship bestowed upon them like their mothers but don't want to do the work like their mothers did, and men want a woman who is obedient and submissive, but won't treat her well enough when she is. Society is absolutely backwards, Woman are quick to run and try to do it themselves and men are quick to push them out the door as there are more options. <br />
<br />
Enjoy and let me know what you think.<br />
Xoxo<br />
Miss B<br />
<br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNO5SJGuCr70ttUZzf_Gs2J5KGIM9no-2BCGPNcNNU_f_8zgigIW3pLS89QOX8cA51GvX1a6F3gTV-rHclp1PQuLzvEuNIXI-2d9w9KIW8G7e9LJM0rm6QS1rOWGF6EO_ex4qrfmX9WxE/s640/blogger-image--2083093596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNO5SJGuCr70ttUZzf_Gs2J5KGIM9no-2BCGPNcNNU_f_8zgigIW3pLS89QOX8cA51GvX1a6F3gTV-rHclp1PQuLzvEuNIXI-2d9w9KIW8G7e9LJM0rm6QS1rOWGF6EO_ex4qrfmX9WxE/s640/blogger-image--2083093596.jpg" /></a></div>miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-85624536979049148602012-11-08T00:38:00.001+01:002012-11-08T00:47:54.916+01:00The Law School Clearance Nightmare<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY24DqNN_sJ4r8m93kuYOhMqPNwmshO2ZCt6L8HD_TywOrjIUPxAQmXWYtOl16V4PpJwCs13didTJdCRj1OPH1vXfQtVVQnDL4zUP4DhVwnRSw9QMT8TB9pTT391qdWDK0Alox8UKQl7Y/s1600/call-to-bar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY24DqNN_sJ4r8m93kuYOhMqPNwmshO2ZCt6L8HD_TywOrjIUPxAQmXWYtOl16V4PpJwCs13didTJdCRj1OPH1vXfQtVVQnDL4zUP4DhVwnRSw9QMT8TB9pTT391qdWDK0Alox8UKQl7Y/s400/call-to-bar.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<br />
Hello blogworld,<br />
I had to write this post out of fraustration so forgive me if I sound a little harsh. Passing through any Nigerian institution or NYSC always starts with 'registration' and ends with 'clearance'. Online registration is usually used at some stage but this never aids the process. For Law school, I had to go through 'clearance' last week and it was an increadibly long, fraustrating and tiring process. Part of what makes it so fraustrating is the fact that it could actually be so so simple. <br />
<br />
The first step involves paying N30,000 as 'Call to Bar Fees' to a Zenith account and then N2000 to a GTB account as your 'Practising Fee'. For those that do not know, banks in Nigeria tend to be a nightmare with queues, so it is advisable to do this a day before your actual clearance date. Alot of the bank staff usually have no clue what you are talking about, and have to ask a supervisor or find the special teller from someone else. A friend of mine went into a GTB and was told that they had run out of the special tellers and had to try another branch. GTB branches are not exactly at every corner. <br />
<br />
The next step involves every single Nigerian Law School student travelling to Bwari to submit the required documentation. This includes people who have been in various campuses across the country and have never been to Bwari. On my way to school we spotted a girl on a bike around Dutse heading to law school and gave her a ride. She was from Enugu campus and had never been to Bwari before. She had come on an overnight bus the day before. The journey from Dutse to Bwari on a bike is really not one that I would recommend as even in a car, it is a stretch. I really cannot understand why everyone cannot undergo their clearance in their various campuses. <br />
In a country where transportation is so unsafe, how inconsiderate is it to expect people to travel all the way to Bwari to submit pieces of paper that are eventually thrown on the floor? Better yet, how about the whole process is done online, and no one has to leave their homes?<br />
<br />
Once you get to Bwari, you have to go from one ridiculous queue to another, in the boiling heat, in order to submit the bank teller, your printed result (which they already have pasted on a wall), your transcript (which they also already have on record) and your assesments from attachment (which they gave you in the first place). <br />
<br />
The next stage involves getting your certificate. You would think this would be easy, but mine was no where to be found. A number of people had their names mispelt or had the wrong grade printed on it. I was being sent from one office to the other in order to search for mine, but it was eventually concluded that it must have been an oversight and I would have to return the next day to get another one. Lucky for me I stay in Abuja, but a number of people flew into Abuja in the morning and had flights booked to return on the same day. With not so much as an apology, I was sent home to continue the process the next day. <br />
<br />
On my way to school the next day in an unmarked taxi, we were stopped by 'Bwari Area Council Local Government Tax Force' not once, but twice, as cabs from town were not allowed to come into Bwari without paying some toll. We had to fork out N3000 in order for us to continue. <br />
<br />
After getting the certificate, the next step is to go to the Supreme Court which is in the heart of town, to get it stamped, and then bring it back to Bwari to exchange it for your invite to the Call to Bar Ceremony. The process is just as ridiculous as it sounds, and most people have to get it done in a day. <br />
<br />
There is no consideration for the cost of transportation for people to go back and forth three times in one day. The road to Bwari is not exactly great. This is an example of my friend Tonye's cost of Clearance:<br />
<br />
Return flight to Abuja from Port-Harcourt: 30,000<br />
Change of flight- (as she finished too late to make her flight)- 3000<br />
Taxi from airport to Bwari- 5,500<br />
Taxi to Supreme Court, Bwari and back into town- 6000<br />
Hotel for the night- 7000<br />
<br />
TOTAL COST FOR CLEARANCE: N51,000<br />
<br />
<br />
The man writing reciepts as the Supreme Court boasted about how he had been doing this for over 10 years. After 10 years, has no one thought that there surely has to be an easier way to get it done?<br />
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Well if no one has, then I have. <br />
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Dear Director General of Nigerian Law School,<br />
Head of Student Affairs,<br />
Anyone else in charge of this process.<br />
<br />
I hope you are doing well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts from time to time. I have come up with a very simple solution to make the 'clearance' process much easier. <br />
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You do not need a 'clearance' process. <br />
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All the documentation you require us to submit are already in your posession from registration. Our court and chamber attachment slips are given to us to submit at this time. How about you do not give it to us at all as when we bring them back, they all end up in the trash. Make a note of those who did not successfully complete the attachment process and let everyone else continue to the next step.</div>
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The bank will be able to provide you with a code system, as is done with our fees, which can be entered into an online portal to ensure that call to bar fees are paid before hand. We do not need to enter flights, buses and bikes in order to submit a bank teller. This is the 2012 afterall. <br />
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The invites can ge given out on the day of the call. It just requires a little organisation, which I know you are not great with, but really this system is not sustainable. <br />
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I hope my suggestions will be considered before someone gets injured trying to go for 'Clearance', only to travel for Call to Bar 2 weeks later. <br />
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Many Thanks<br />
Miss Bmiss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9086590995927916295.post-85160955407024734302012-10-02T06:35:00.001+01:002012-10-02T06:37:39.769+01:00How to Worship the Nigerian God By ELNATHAN JOHNI saw this on www.amahzeeing.blogspot.com/ and I loved it. I could not have said it better myself. Everyone knows I have a problem with the way we practice religion in Nigeria. Enjoy:<br />
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The Nigerian god is one. It may have many different manifestations, but it is essentially different sides of the same coin. Sometimes, adherents of the different sides may fight and kill each other. But Nigerians essentially follow the Nigerian god.<br />
This article is for all those who want to become better worshippers. If you are a new or prospective convert, God will bless you for choosing the Nigerian god. This is just how you must worship him.<br />
First, you must understand that being a worshipper has nothing to do with character, good works or righteousness. So the fact that you choose to open every meeting with multiple prayers does not mean that you intend to do what is right. The opening prayer is important. Nothing can work without it. If you are gathered to discuss how to inflate contracts, begin with an opening prayer or two. If you are gathered to discuss how to rig elections, begin with a prayer. The Nigerian god appreciates communication.<br />
When you sneak away from your wife to call your girlfriend in the bathroom, and she asks if you will come this weekend, you must say—in addition to “Yes”—“By God’s grace” or “God willing”. It doesn’t matter the language you use. Just add it. The Nigerian god likes to be consulted before you do anything, including a trip to Obudu to see your lover.<br />
When worshipping the Nigerian god, be loud. No, the Nigerian god is not hard of hearing. It is just that he appreciates your loud fervour, like he appreciates loud raucous music. The Nigerian god doesn’t care if you have neighbours and neither should you. When you are worshipping in your house, make sure the neighbours can’t sleep. Use loud speakers even if you are only two in the building. Anyone who complains must be evil. God will judge such a person.<br />
Attribute everything to the Nigerian god. So, if you diverted funds from public projects and are able to afford that Phantom, when people say you have a nice car, say, “Na God”. If someone asks what the secret of all your wealth is, say, “God has been good to me”. By this you mean the Nigerian god who gave you the uncommon wisdom to re-appropriate public funds.<br />
Consult the Nigerian god when you don’t feel like working. The Nigerian god understands that we live in a harsh climate where it is hard to do any real work. So, if you have no clue how to be in charge and things start collapsing, ask people to pray to God and ask for his intervention.<br />
The Nigerian god loves elections and politics. When you have bribed people to get the Party nomination, used thugs to steal and stuff ballot boxes, intimidated people into either sitting at home or voting for you, lied about everything from your assets to your age, and you eventually, (through God’s grace), win the elections, you must begin by declaring that your success is the wish of God and that the other candidate should accept this will of God. It is not your fault whom the Nigerian god chooses to reward with political success. How can mere mortals complain?<br />
The Nigerian god does not tolerate disrespect. If someone insults your religion, you must look for anyone like them and kill them. Doesn’t matter what you use—sticks, machetes, grenade launchers, IED’s, AK47’s.<br />
The Nigerian god performs signs and wonders. He does everything from cure HIV to High BP. And the Nigerian god is creative: he can teach a person who was born blind the difference between blue and green when the man of god asks, and he can teach a person born deaf instant English. As a worshipper you must let him deliver you because every case of sickness is caused by evil demons and not infections. Every case of barrenness is caused by witches and has no scientific explanation. So instead of hospital, visit agents of the Nigerian god. But the Nigerian god does not cure corruption. Do not attempt to mock him.<br />
If you worship the Nigerian god, you are under no obligation to be nice or kind to people who are not worshippers. They deserve no courtesy.<br />
The Nigerian god is also online. As a worshipper, you are not obliged to be good or decent on Facebook or twitter all week except on Friday and Sunday, both of which the Nigerian god marks as holy. So you may forward obscene photos, insult people, forward lewd jokes on all days except the holy days. On those holy days, whichever applies to you, put up statuses saying how much you are crazy about God.<br />
These days, the Nigerian god also permits tweets and Facebook updates like: "Now in Church" or "This guy in front of me needs to stop dozing" when performing acts of worship.<br />
In all, the Nigerian god is very kind and accommodating. He gives glory and riches and private jets. And if you worship him well, he will immensely bless your hustle.<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7LfPCPXDcyPslqAkff2cAmioOYtqHNf5qTFDKRrY7KkCvnueLX2xAjDlXqtH5CklsYf2xSX74ln_gyywiVacvSSljxLX7Qf9NLMZOdRYthwuu1MOrOlISPTfv5h3eS6BHbzOVrGdS3Q/s640/blogger-image-1098897927.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7LfPCPXDcyPslqAkff2cAmioOYtqHNf5qTFDKRrY7KkCvnueLX2xAjDlXqtH5CklsYf2xSX74ln_gyywiVacvSSljxLX7Qf9NLMZOdRYthwuu1MOrOlISPTfv5h3eS6BHbzOVrGdS3Q/s640/blogger-image-1098897927.jpg" /></a></div>miss bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17168223470694250041noreply@blogger.com7