Featured Blogger

Say You Will Stay #22

Obinna was sat on the armchair when she came back in. There were snacks on the table – a bowl of popcorn, chocolate biscuits and two doughnuts. A bottle of Fanta on her favourite puff. One empty glass cup sat on the stool beside him. Next to it, a cup of pineapple juice for him. “I thought you were gonna go to the shops?” Isio did not hide her disappointment. It came out, attached to her words as they left her mouth. “This friendship thing isn’t gonna work if you don’t do your bit.” She picked up the remote control from the table and pointed it at the DVD player to eject the film he had slotted in. A thriller. One of those with Bruce Willis and guns. The kind of film he liked. The kind she avoided watching. Although she watched a few with him at the beginning of their relationship.…

Say You Will Stay #21

Isio did not talk much on the way home. She couldn’t have. Obinna talked almost all the way through. Explaining that he had missed her, that he was sorry. She let him come into the apartment because she believed Biba was home. She was wrong. “Where is Biba, sweetie?” He asked as though he thought caring about her friend would change what she felt about him. She shook her head to inform him she did not know. Examining his words for the air of superiority they sometimes came coated in. “I’m asking you because Anu is in London.” She nodded without glancing at him. She knew Anu was coming to the city with the children, their nanny and someone else that worked for her. They saw her on the day she returned to Ribble Greaves. Her warm hugs and affectionate greetings were enough to make Isio want to stay a…

Say You Will Stay #20

The drive back to the house was unnervingly quiet. She had expected Isio to be asleep when she peered at her face. Her eyes were vacant. They had been red when she trudged into the car. Red because she had drunk enough alcopops for a big party. Her jumper smelt of it. Her sleeve felt damp against Biba’s hand when she hugged her. She had guessed that her friend spilt drink on herself in her drunken haze. Idriss stopped the car close to the house. This was timely. Isio jumped out of the car running towards the house, both palms on her mouth. Kanyin followed, Biba stayed. “Are you not going in?” Idriss asked. “Or you wanna come for a drive?” She thought of the swift manner he led Isio into the car and how he yelled at Chib to back off. He cared too much about Obinna to be quiet about…

This Thing Called Love #6

FOR A COUPLE of weeks I couldn’t eat or sleep properly. Certainly, I was astounded by the unexpected turn of events. Is this real – or am I trapped in some demented nightmare? I wondered, severally. Before this time I’d often wondered how it felt to be heartbroken by a loved one. Now I knew firsthand. I felt like my heart was in fragments – a million and one fragments. Most of the time I was restless; and there were times I cried, bitterly. My world had been turned topsy-turvy. Once or twice I even contemplated suicide. How could Rachael do this to me? Why did Rachael do this to me? I thought repeatedly. An expression I once read in a magazine flashed constantly through my mind. It read: sometimes the good guys get the bad girls while the bad guys get the good girls. The former rang true in…

Say You Will Stay #19

It wasn’t light streaking into the room that woke Biba up. It was the familiar voice of the woman by the door. She winced as she woke completely. Realising that the taut body next to her had not been imagined. That the time when he pinned her hands to the bed and he teased her with his tongue had not been induced by the copious amount of wine she consumed. He was next to her and she was sure the voice she heard belonged to his wife. “Wake up,” she slapped his chest. “Anu is here.” She did not wait for him to open his eyes. She jumped out of bed taking the duvet with her. The dress she had on last night, her double-strapped, jewelled sandals and her underwear were strewn all over the room. She was bent double extracting her clutch bag from underneath the bed when the…

This Thing Called Love #5

MY SECOND AND final semester examinations were, finally, over. Thank goodness! I was certain I would finish with a good first class honours. Like most final year students it felt great to know that, at last, I was free from the academic shackles of my first degree. However, I knew, in some ways, I was going to really miss UNILAG.  No more student politics. No more meals at any of the cafeterias. No more frequent lagoon front visits. Moreover, I was going to miss the school because I had no intention of returning for my Masters Degree program – or any other program for that matter. My eyes were set elsewhere – on a renowned foreign university. After the second semester exams the students, staying in the various hostels, were required to vacate them and head for their respective homes – wherever they were. School was going on a long…

This Thing Called Love #4

IN MY FIFTH and final year I became the General Secretary of the National Association of Quantity Surveying Students (NAQSS), UNILAG Chapter. For a fairly long while some of the students in my department were quite unhappy with me. They, like their colleagues, had wanted me as the NAQSS President, which was the post I was initially gunning for during the election campaigning process. But due to certain political interests I had to step down for the guy who eventually emerged as the President. He was the then HOD’s mannequin. What my fellow students simply knew was that I had stepped down for someone they didn’t want…someone they didn’t like…someone who wasn’t academically on par with me. But what they didn’t know was why I had actually done that. I gave them what I considered to be the simplest excuse: I was no longer interested in becoming the Association’s President…

This Thing Called Love #3

Read previous episodes here RACHAEL AND I were in love, crazily in love, with each other. It was pure bliss. I was residing on cloud nine, sharing my life and aspirations with the girl of my dreams – or so it seemed. From the moment we actually became a couple I assumed full responsibility for her. You see, I was raised with the notion that a real man ought to treat his woman with utmost respect, handle her delicately, and take great care of her – meeting her every need, as humanly possible as he could. My father perfectly modelled this concept. What better example did I need? None! So, with this view firmly tucked in the recesses of my mind, I paid for Rachael’s campus accommodation because she lived quite a distance from UNILAG. I regularly bought her gift items such as clothes, bags, shoes, jewelleries, and other related…

This Thing Called Love #2

Read The Previous Episode TEACHING IS AN integral part of who I am. It’s an endeavour that was hard-wired into me right from above. Almost nothing gives me pleasure like impacting knowledge to other people. I started teaching when I was in primary four. However, I began earning some money from it when I got to senior secondary two. I worked, part time, for a Home Tutor Agency…teaching various subjects at both the primary and secondary school levels; and I continued with the job while I was at the University of Lagos studying Quantity Surveying. I met Rachael for the very first time during a teaching session. That particular morning, which turned out to be a lecture-free day for me and my course mates, I had gone to teach the fresh students in my department. I was in my fourth year at this time. These freshmen, who had just tasted…

Navigate
%d bloggers like this: