Stranger In Lagos

Stranger In Lagos #7

EBEN

Thereโ€™s a meeting going on. Accumulated exhaustion saturates the conference room. Fridays are not good days for this sort of solemnity, yet I have stubbornly called for a meeting. Everyone is hating me right now. Iโ€™m hating myself too, but the feeling comes and goes. Halim takes center stage in my head. I canโ€™t seem to concentrate on anything extra. Iโ€™m staring in listlessness, waiting for some miracle, waiting for Halim to call me.

When my phone rings, I startle up but fall back to my chair when I see Eniolaโ€™s name on my screen. The phone rings on. Itโ€™s loud. Everyone is staring. I donโ€™t care.

Halimโ€ฆ I saw her at Berger yesterday, but I didnโ€™t know it was her until I had driven a far distance. My mind had been on other matters as my car whizzed past a bus stop on which yellow buses hung about in moving clusters, waiting to pick passengers. Halim had been walking behind a guy carrying a box. She had on a dress I had bought for her two years ago; it was now faded and it hung on her body. She was emaciated. She didnโ€™t look like Halim. She seemed like another version of her from a parallel universe of the poor.

But my mind hadnโ€™t picked out these things until I was far gone, because one does not expect to be driving on the streets of Lagos and chance upon oneโ€™s ex-fiancรฉe who has been off grid for a long time. When it eventually came to me that it was her, I had already gone quite the distance. My foot jabbed the brake pedal and I found myself in the middle of a busy street, nearly responsible for an accident.

Ignoring the insults that were hurled at me by other motorists as my car remained immobile, I put a call across to Aunty Ada.

โ€œI just saw Halim.โ€

โ€œWhere? Where did you see her? Does she look okay? Is she fine? Did you talk to her?โ€

It then occurred to me that I had done a stupid thing by calling the poor woman. She hadnโ€™t been faring well following Halimโ€™s departure, even though she acknowledged that she got the random text from her, stating she was fine.

โ€œI donโ€™t think itโ€™s her. Sorry. Itโ€™s someone else.โ€

There was disappointment in her tone. โ€œAre you sure itโ€™s not her?โ€

โ€œYes.โ€

She hung up and I was forced to continue my journey. From that moment till now I have been restless. Seated in this conference room, Iโ€™m listening to some wet-behind-the-ear boy whom I have just hired give a presentation about new marketing ideas for the company. Iโ€™m tired of his pitch. Itโ€™s all brilliant but its presentation flags. I rise up, cutting him off. I see the apprehension on his face. Just yesterday I had fired two of his colleagues for incompetence. Iโ€™ve been on a short fuse since Halim left.

โ€œWrap this up,โ€ I say to the manager and point to the boy. โ€œCool stuff. Thatโ€™s the kind of brain we need here at Crafter. But weโ€™ll talk on Monday. TGIF, everyone.โ€

I make my exit. Eniola is calling again. I still ignore her call. When I get into my office, I lie on a couch that is part of a three-piece set that is situated by the left upon entry. Thereโ€™s a small glass table before the couch and on it rests my other phone which I use strictly for work and business, mostly handled by my personal assistant. I pick the phone and make a call to the head of network engineering and ask her over to my office. She walks in some minutes after.

โ€œGood morning, Mr. Nosakhare.โ€

โ€œEben, please.โ€

I point at one of the single couches and she sits, crossing a leg over the other. She is not your typical tech person. She is married with three kids, has a banging body, fashionable, and goes about in heels. I had had to make good use of my negotiating skills to steal her away from one of the big telecoms company to have her work at Crafter. I pay her a little higher than her colleagues who are heads of their departments.

โ€œDora, I need you to find someone for me,โ€ I tell her. โ€œSheโ€™s been off radar for three months. She changed her number and uses different numbers to send texts to her mother now and then. I want her phone traced and I want her found.โ€

โ€œIs this personal or work-related?โ€

โ€œIs part of your job description looking for missing persons?โ€

โ€œNo.โ€

โ€œGood. See this as a favor youโ€™re doing for me that Iโ€™ll pay back someday.โ€

โ€œIf youโ€™ll be kind enough to let me have her social media details. Gmail, especially. Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, all of that.โ€

โ€œShe deactivated all her accounts on the day she disappeared and they have not been active since.โ€

โ€œWhich does she use? Android or IOS?โ€

โ€œAndroid.โ€

โ€œGreat. Weโ€™ll trace her through her Google account. As you know every Android user is required to have a Google account, so it doesnโ€™t matter if she has changed her line or is off social media. As long as she uses that phone or any other phone that has her Google account on it, we will find her.โ€

โ€œThank you.โ€ I sit up and walk to my desk to pick a pen and paper. I write down Halimโ€™s details and any other information I feel needs to be known.

โ€œHere.โ€

Dora takes the paper. โ€œIโ€™ll have something for you tomorrow. Any last known address?โ€

โ€œBerger,โ€ I say, my tummy churning as I recall Halimโ€™s appearance. โ€œDora, this is really important to me.โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll get working on it right away.โ€

โ€œThank you.โ€

Dora leaves. I lie on the couch again. I know Halim made it clear that she doesnโ€™t want to be found, but after three months of torture, I need to see her. Iโ€™m desperate to tell her how sorry I am. She needs to know that I donโ€™t think less of her for sleeping with someone else or contracting HIV from him. I donโ€™t know if we can still have a future together but it wonโ€™t hurt to have a talk and see if we can rescue the good thing we once had. My family thinks warmly of her, despite her health status. I donโ€™t know if her wealth which they have richly benefited from is the reason why they are compassionate. A fortnight ago, my mom was speaking to me about viral loads and how Halim would not be able to pass on HIV to me if she takes her medication and lives healthy.

โ€œAre you saying I should still get married to her?โ€

โ€œDelomo, itโ€™s your choice. Anything you want.โ€

I had looked at into her eyes and seen nothing. The type of nothing that would be happy if I married Halim and happy still if I donโ€™t. That type of happy that would rather not pick a side.

For me, if Halim walks back into my life this minute and wants to wear my ring again, I would gladly oblige her. HIV is just a tag. Halim is beyond the disease.

My phone rings. Eniola is calling a third time. I pick her call.

โ€œNini,โ€ I say. โ€œIโ€™m so sorry.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m at the house. Since you didnโ€™t answer my calls all day I figured you were busy. I jejely respected myself and stayed in my friendโ€™s house. Iโ€™m just getting to yours now.โ€

I sneeze.

โ€œAre you okay?โ€ she asks.

โ€œJust a stupid cold coming on. Wait for me. Iโ€™ll be there in a bit.โ€

I drive home, tired, my throat and head aching. When I get into the compound, I see Eniola waiting outside the door with a box and a bag, both big enough to let me know that she wasnโ€™t joking when she said she needed to bunk in my place. She had told me she would be around for a couple of months. But this seems like she is trying to take permanent residence in my life.

Iโ€™m not complaining, however. Anything for my friendโ€™s sister.

I get down from the car. We hug. She feels warm and soft. I havenโ€™t felt a woman in a while. โ€œHow are you?โ€

โ€œGood,โ€ she answers. โ€œBut you seem to be burning up.โ€

โ€œYeah. I have a little fever. Iโ€™ll just stay in and sleep it off.โ€

I help her with her luggage. When we get into the house, I open the windows.

โ€œSo, tell me about this your new job.โ€

Eniola smiles. โ€œItโ€™s not far from here. I can walk sef. Better position than what I used to have at Ako. Better pay.โ€

โ€œPastor Love will miss you,โ€ I say.

โ€œShe will, but I have to move on to better things. Just as you have.โ€

โ€œTrue. So, let me take you to your room.โ€

We carry her things up the stairs to a bedroom that is facing mine.

โ€œThank you for this, Eben.โ€

โ€œEnjoy your stay, Nini, for as long as you want.โ€

โ€œI will. Thanks.โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll just go and lie down for a bit.โ€

I walk into my room and hide underneath the sheets. I soon fall asleep. When I wake up, I see that the sun is setting. The fever isnโ€™t gone. My head aches even more. I enter the bathroom for a leak and when I return, I hear a knock on my door.

โ€œYeah?โ€

Eniola walks in with a tray. On it is a mug and a dish of something Iโ€™m sure smells heavenly, judging by the steam itโ€™s producing. Unfortunately, my nose is blocked. I sneeze into a tissue as she strolls to my nightstand.

โ€œI have ginger, lemon and honey tea. And catfish peppersoup.โ€ She is smiling. I donโ€™t return the smile.

Her face falls. โ€œIโ€™m sorry, I should have asked before doing all of this. Iโ€™m just so used to taking care of peopleโ€ฆโ€

โ€œItโ€™s okay, Nini. This is actually thoughtful. Learn to ignore my pokerface. Itโ€™s just the way I am.โ€

โ€œOkay. It will take some getting used to.โ€

โ€œSo did you bring all this stuff from home? The fish and all?โ€

She laughs shyly. โ€œNo. I made an order online and they were delivered right at the front door. Took about an hour.โ€

โ€œWow.โ€

โ€œI also got you some pills to help with the cold.โ€

I sit on the bed and she stands before me like a waitress. She hands me the tea. โ€œDrink this first.โ€

โ€œThanks.โ€ I take the mug, expecting her to leave, but she doesnโ€™t. โ€œIโ€™m fine, Nini.โ€

โ€œNo, youโ€™re not. Iโ€™m standing here until you finish everything on this tray.โ€

โ€œOkay. You may as well sit.โ€

โ€œI want to say something.โ€

โ€œGo ahead.โ€

She fidgets a little, linking and unlinking her fingers. โ€œI know you miss Halim, and youโ€™re probably still heartbroken. I just want to let you know that things are going to be fine. If itโ€™s Godโ€™s will that you two will be together, youโ€™ll reunite with her. So, just take things easy on yourself.โ€

โ€œI will, Nini. Thank you. Now, sit.โ€

I sip the tea and engage her in small banter. We talk until I consume everything on the tray. She then picks the tray and leaves. As she walks out, I canโ€™t help but stare at her bum. When the door shuts, I scold myself for my straying eyes.

I turn on the TV. Thereโ€™s nothing of interest except business news. I watch it until the drug Eniola gives me begins to work. I nod off, waking up at 11 p.m. I feel a lot better. After a shower, I head downstairs to prepare dinner. Eniola is with a friend, some girl that is chubby as she is. They are both dressed for a night out, in outfits bound to cause a stir. I wonder what Eniolaโ€™s uptight mother would say if she saw her daughter dressed like this.

โ€œEben, youโ€™re awake.โ€

Eniola comes to me. She places the back of her palm on my forehead. โ€œThe fever is gone. How are you feeling?โ€

โ€œOkay. Still weak.โ€

โ€œPele.โ€ She links her arm in mine. Itโ€™s strange behavior. โ€œI want you to meet my friend, Sandra. Sandy, meet Eben. I told you about him.โ€

โ€œNice things abi?โ€ I ask, playfully.

โ€œMany nice things,โ€ Sandra answers. โ€œHi.โ€

โ€œHi, Sandra. So where are you girls headed?โ€

โ€œA few clubs here and there,โ€ Eniola responded. โ€œSandy wants to show me around.โ€

โ€œDonโ€™t you hate Lagos or something?โ€

โ€œI know, right? Look at me now.โ€

โ€œYou girls want me to drop you off?โ€

โ€œNo, donโ€™t worry. Weโ€™re taking an Uber.โ€

โ€œOkay. Give me a sec.โ€

I go upstairs and return with a debit card which I hand to Eniola. โ€œ7218. Enjoy.โ€

โ€œEbenโ€ฆโ€ She is surprised. โ€œWeโ€™reโ€ฆweโ€™ve already got ourselves sorted out.โ€

โ€œI insist. Iโ€™d have gone with you but I still feel awful. So, let this night be on me. Enjoy.โ€

โ€œThank you, Eben.โ€ She takes the card. โ€œYay, Sandy! Weโ€™re going to max this card.โ€

I laugh. She links fingers with Sandra and they hurry out. Again, I stare at ample backsides.

โ€œPerv,โ€ I say to myself as I lock the front door. When they are gone, I enter the kitchen. Thereโ€™s still some peppersoup left. I consume it with French bread, take some pills and go back to bed.

Morning comes and I find that I have breakfast waiting downstairs with a note from Eniola.

I didnโ€™t want to wake you up. Iโ€™m off to Sandyโ€™s for the day J

The time is past twelve. I have a few missed calls, two of them from Dora. I ignore the rest and return hers.

โ€œGood afternoon, Mr. Eben.โ€

โ€œHello Dora,โ€ I say.

Sheโ€™s breathing tiredly. I can hear a toddler crying in the background.

โ€œGive me a minute.โ€

Seconds pass and the screaming child is gone.

โ€œSorry about that.โ€

โ€œSo, any good news?โ€

โ€œYes. I found her. Easy-peasy. Her phone is still in use. A few days ago she registered a new alias Twitter account. Sheโ€™s following you.โ€

โ€œReally?โ€

โ€œYeah.โ€

โ€œAny luck with a physical location?โ€

โ€œYes. Iโ€™ll text it to you right away.โ€

โ€œThanks a lot, Dora.โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re welcome. I have to go.โ€ I hear the child screaming once more and the line goes dead.

Doraโ€™s text drops a couple of minutes later. I sit to have my breakfast, staring at my phone screen. Aunty Ada would be more than excited to have this address, but I know I canโ€™t betray Halim like that.

I have a steaming shower after breakfast. I still feel like crap, sniffling like a little child, sneezing like one with allergies. I step out to the hot son and enter my dusty car. My destination is Surulere.

 

HALIM

Iโ€™ve not had anything to eat all morning. Iโ€™m hungry, tired and having a dizzy spell. The good thing about all of this, though, is that my room is clean after two days of procrastination.

I had entered my new home two days ago and gotten introduced to a junkyard that is supposed to be where Iโ€™ll be sleeping. There were books, clothes, dismembered laptops, gadgets, an obsessive collection of sneakers, and even a dead rat! Its dried body was hung by the neck and tied to the ceiling fan. It seemed to have been there for months; the cobwebs that covered it at some point had somehow given up and were now falling away, making an unsightly mass of brown cobweb thread, heading towards the floor. Only that there was no floor. Junk covered every available space.

โ€œIโ€™m a hoarder,โ€ Yemi told me, chewing a gum noisily as we both peered into the room. โ€œAnd the rat, I hung it there as a warning to the others not to come near. It worked.โ€

โ€œCreepy.โ€

โ€œYou can just clean the place out and move your things in.โ€

I grinned at him. It was not a nice one. Clement had already paid for the room. I had expected to find a room and not a garbage dump. But Yemi had no apologies to offer. From the moment I walked into the house and met a tall, lanky guy with a beard gang thing going on, an offhand attitude and the occasional caustic mouth, I knew Iโ€™d entered a different time zone.

And so on that night I slept on one of the couches in the living room. Yemi offered me his bedroom but I politely declined his offer. He didnโ€™t ask a second time or even yesterday. He went about his business like I didnโ€™t exist in the house. But he was kind enough to let me use his bathroom, which I found unusually clean. His bedroom was a different matter.

โ€œYouโ€™ll have to eventually clean your room,โ€ he finally told me last night when I struggled to snuggle into Aunty Adaโ€™s wrapper to ward off the cold weather as I lay on the couch.

โ€œIโ€™ll do it tomorrow,โ€ I replied.

โ€œYou want me to help?โ€

โ€œHow else will I know where to keep all that junk?โ€

โ€œOh, itโ€™s not all junk. Some are important to me.โ€

He turned towards his bedroom, leaving me concurring to Clementโ€™s statement about his strangeness.

On Thursday, he had given me an orientation of the house. His books were not to be touched. Same as his gadgets. Even if I found an earphone lying around, I was not to move it by an inch. The garbage must be emptied every night. The windows locked by 6 p.m. He swore the rats in the neighborhood were capable of opening windows a hundred times heavier than they were. No loud โ€˜die by fireโ€™ prayers. No alcohol. No cigarettes. No guys allowed to sleep over. He liked his space and didnโ€™t do well with girls around him. I assured him that I wasnโ€™t going to butt into his personal galaxy. And then he laughed.

โ€œWitty. Nice one. Remind me to be careful of your tongue.โ€

Despite his casual cockiness, we get on well, and that basically means I have to keep my distance. I get that although he isnโ€™t your direct definition of friendly, he is nice. He made me breakfast yesterday and this morning, but was quick to remind me that itโ€™s not going to repeat itself.

I also notice that he doesnโ€™t go out. He sits behind a laptop all day. Iโ€™m not sure what goes on there, but Iโ€™m guessing itโ€™s work. He receives the infrequent phone call, and ignores some. In fact, he ignores a lot.

Last night, he had friends over. Two guys and a girl. They came with drinks and suya and invited me to hang with them, but I declined. I told them I had a date with someone, picked my phone and left the house. I strolled about aimlessly until I found a cybercafรฉ where I plugged my phone to charge and also browsed. I was on Twitter for two hours, keeping myself updated with what was trending. Social media had been a huge part of my life, but I had denied myself of that lifeline when I came to Lagos. Now, I was crawling back into familiar places, peeking into my old existence, stalking Eben. He doesnโ€™t say much on Twitter except the casual bants about politics, tech and football.

Iโ€™m beginning to miss him. My anger at him isnโ€™t thawing away soon but it doesnโ€™t hurt to admit that he means something to me even as weโ€™re apart. I donโ€™t know what has changed. Maybe I no longer feel the sting of living as a HIVer. Maybe that tour around the country did me some good. Or maybe it is this house and the prospect of starting afresh. I just know Iโ€™m beginning to want to smile again. I am yet to accept my fate, though. I was unable to have myself registered in the system as one living with the virus. Clement wonโ€™t be happy when he finds out.

โ€œThis place looks great.โ€ Yemi is at my door, peering in. My bed is covered with pink and purple beddings. The walls have been decorated with wallpaper that has a pattern of black and ashen bricks. The setting is a reflection of my room back at home.

โ€œBut I still smell a dead rat in here,โ€ he remarks.

I frown at him. He walks away. I shut the door and strip. Iโ€™m grateful for a cold shower after all the work I have done this morning. The junk I removed from this room now rests in the guest toilet. I had suggested to Yemi to have them thrown away and his collection of unused sneakers given to charity. But he had replied with a grunt, a sign that he doesnโ€™t like being told what to do. I may never get to understand him. Iโ€™m not trying to, anyway. I just want to pick the fragments of my life and find out what to do with them.

I return to my bedroom, hungry. Yemi is making lunch; Iโ€™m not expecting he would make some for me. Iโ€™ll run across the street and buy some noodles. Later on, Iโ€™ll hit the market to get foodstuff.

I change into jeans and a t-shirt. My hair is still a mess. Iโ€™m thinking that it wouldnโ€™t be a bad idea to go natural.

I hear a knock on my door.

โ€œHalim?โ€ Yemi calls. โ€œYou have a visitor.โ€

My hands drop from my hair as I freeze. A visitor? Who on earth knows Iโ€™m here?

โ€œPlease, whoโ€™s the person?โ€ I ask, but get no reply. I feel my pulse rising. Iโ€™m apprehensive. Who the hell can it be?

I pick an Ankara scarf and do a quick wrap of my hair before I aim for the door. But I stop, inhale and then step out to the living room.

Standing right in the middle of it is Eben. I take a step back, my heart doing a thousand lurches all at once. Heโ€™s looking at me, Iโ€™m looking at him. Coincidentally, we are dressed alike โ€“ in deep blue jeans and black t-shirts. He looks tired. Red eyes stare into mine. An unshaved beard gives him an older look. If we were still together, I wouldnโ€™t let him change this appearance.

โ€œHow did you find me?โ€ I ask.

โ€œHali,โ€ he calls. His face is pregnant with many expressions. โ€œYouโ€ฆ Iโ€ฆโ€

โ€œI said I didnโ€™t want to be disturbed, Ebenezer. I made that clear to you.โ€

โ€œI know, but I saw you at Berger the other day and I havenโ€™t been able to stop thinking about you, wondering how youโ€™re doing.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m fine,โ€ I reply, crossing my arms. Yemi is whistling in the kitchen. Itโ€™s a tune to some song he was listening to earlier. He loves music. He loves to listen to it loudly.

โ€œSoโ€ฆโ€ Eben is looking round. โ€œThis is where you stay now?โ€

โ€œYes.โ€

โ€œAnd the guyโ€ฆheโ€™sโ€ฆโ€

โ€œMy boyfriend,โ€ I lie. Ebenโ€™s brows pucker up.

โ€œI donโ€™t understand,โ€ he says.

โ€œHe is my boyfriend,โ€ I repeat curtly.

โ€œHe was the one thatโ€ฆโ€

โ€œInfected me? Yes. Itโ€™s him.โ€

Yemi steps out of the kitchen with a heap of food on his plate. He gives us curious stares and heads to his bedroom.

โ€œYou know you could have told me that you had fallen in love with someone else,โ€ Eben says. I hear pain in his voice. I also pick out that he has a cold. He had always been susceptible to flus. And I had always found pleasure nursing him.

โ€œEben, Yemi is not the reason I left.โ€

โ€œYemi. Thatโ€™s his name?โ€

โ€œYes.โ€

And Yemi steps out again. He is headed back to the kitchen, but Eben stops him.

โ€œHey man,โ€ he calls. Yemi turns. โ€œSorry, we havenโ€™t been introduced.โ€

He walks to him. โ€œIโ€™m Eben. Halimโ€™s ex-fiancรฉ.โ€

โ€œOh.โ€

They shake hands.

โ€œIโ€™m Yemiโ€ฆโ€

โ€œAs I told you,โ€ I cut in. โ€œYemi, my boyfriend.โ€

Yemiโ€™s brows go up. He looks at me, blinks a couple of times and turns his gaze back to Eben. โ€œSheโ€™s lying. Ignore her. She probably still likes you.โ€

I look away.

โ€œNice to meet you,โ€ Eben says as Yemi enters the kitchen. Eben comes towards to me. He stands so close I can almost taste his breath.

โ€œWas the lie necessary?โ€

โ€œEben, I need you to move on. Forget about me. My life with you is done. Itโ€™s over.โ€

โ€œWhy? Because you have HIV?โ€

โ€œNo! Because you, your family, my mom, you all lied to me!โ€ I yell. โ€œYou never loved me in the first place! It was all about the money! All the love your mom was showing me was not real! Everything you and I did was fake! And Iโ€™ll never forgive you guys for it! Never! So, just take yourself and the money, I donโ€™t want it! Iโ€™ll survive! Leave me alone!โ€

โ€œHalim…โ€

Iโ€™m trying hard not to cry, but the tears are having their way with me.

โ€œLeave, Eben.โ€

โ€œI love you.โ€

His words break me further. โ€œNo, you donโ€™t. You love my money.โ€

โ€œI didnโ€™t touch your money. My parents did but I did not. I took a loan from my uncle to build Crafter from the scratch. None of it was yours.โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t care, Eben. Go away!โ€

He places his hand on my waist. โ€œI want you back, Hali. I want us back. Pleaseโ€ฆโ€

I push him away but he holds on tightly, and then his lips clamp down on mine. The kiss is short because I break away.

โ€œGo!โ€ I yell, desperate to show him I am serious, because his lips have just weakened me.

โ€œIโ€™m not going anywhere.โ€

โ€œLeave!โ€

โ€œHalimโ€ฆโ€

โ€œLeave, Eben.โ€

He takes my hand. I slap him away with the other and push him backwards. โ€œGet out! Go!โ€

โ€œHalim, pleaseโ€ฆโ€

โ€œShe says you should leave, man.โ€

Yemi has appeared from nowhere. He stands over Eben, eyes focused in the type of frown one gives a petulant child. Eben looks from him to me.

โ€œRespect her wish.โ€

โ€œAnd please, donโ€™t come back,โ€ I plead.

Eben gives me a sad stare before he turns around and makes his way out.

โ€œAre you okay?โ€ Yemi asks. I shake my head and give into tears. My feet canโ€™t hold me. I slip to the floor.

โ€œOkay,โ€ he mutters. โ€œA girl can strip for me, show me her boobs, dance sexy for me and I wonโ€™t bat an eyelid. But when she criesโ€ฆโ€ He sighs.

โ€œIโ€™m sorry.โ€

โ€œI just lost my appetite, Halim. You didnโ€™t tell me you were coming with baggage. Do I need to expect more of this?โ€

He sounds so gentle it breaks me further. โ€œIโ€™m so sorry.โ€

โ€œOkay, stop crying. I canโ€™t handle it.โ€

I try to end the waterworks but I canโ€™t. Yemi stands around awkwardly, shifting from one sneaker-clad foot to another until somehow, I manage to stop crying.

โ€œYou want to get up from the floor, maybe?โ€

I rise up and apologize once more.

โ€œYou didnโ€™t tell me you were rich. I should have charged you more for the room.โ€

I know he just made a joke but rather than being amused by it, I fall into another sob.

โ€œOh God. What have I brought into my house? Halim, I was just joking.โ€

I run into my room and slam the door. Iโ€™m angry at myself for letting back in emotions I had done away with, for breaking down this easily. When you have a heart that is a breeding ground for ruins, you begin to realize that pain doesnโ€™t have an end button. It may wane but it never goes away, always looking for some reason to sneak back in. But I donโ€™t understand this person I am right now. I used to be so free, so happy, so sparkling. What happened to me?

I sit by my window on an old couch gotten from the junk I had cleaned out. It seemed perfect to have it situated beneath my window when I was thinking of where to move it. Iโ€™m already familiarizing myself with the little holes and time-worn patches found on its polyester material. The smell of mold doesnโ€™t bother me. I love the way the couch wraps around my bum and how it would give me the occasion to nurse my thoughts in the future.

Right now, Iโ€™m thinking hard about Eben and what has just happened. His words have found their way into me. Eben is not the type to lie. If heโ€™s being truthful about the money, then maybe he isnโ€™t an accomplice to the lies I was told. He probably is a victim, as well. I feel a bit of pity for him. But unfortunately, that line of emotion isnโ€™t going to be charted. We are two different people from different worlds now. Iโ€™m always going to be HIV positive. I donโ€™t want him to have to deal with that.

I lie on the couch. Yemi is beginning to play his music loudly again. I close my eyes, listening to the sounds.

 

EBEN

Iโ€™ve just gotten home. My mood: all forms of bad. But I will not dwell on Halim. There are a million other problems a man has. A woman shouldnโ€™t be on the list. I will need a better approach to Halim. Sheโ€™s too damaged right now to listen to anyone.

I let myself into the house. The drugs I took earlier have worn off and my nose is beginning to run again. I pull out some tissue from a box on the dining table while scanning around to see if Eniola is in. Blowing my nose, I go upstairs. I can faintly hear the sound of Abbaโ€™s Dancing Queen coming from her bedroom. I have no desire to say hi, so I aim straight to my room. But as I get closer, I pick out the distinct sounds of moaning. I also notice that her door is open.

I donโ€™t mean to peek, but I do, and my eyes fall upon a fascinating scene. Eniola and her friend, Sandy are pleasuring themselves. Eniola is receiving most of it; Sandra giving all the love.

Interesting.

Itโ€™s bad habit to stare, but I canโ€™t help myself โ€“ and thatโ€™s how I stupidly get caught. Eniola, sighting me first, jumps up, shields her breasts and shuts her legs.

โ€œIโ€™m sorry,โ€ I say as I move backwards and hurry away to my room. Iโ€™m laughing silently when I get in. I have never suspected Eniola of being a lesbian. There have never been any external signs. I donโ€™t know how to feel about it.

But my little man knows โ€“ apparently. He thinks weโ€™re stimulated by what we just saw. No, we arenโ€™t. We cannot be stimulated by Lekanโ€™s baby sister. No.

She knocks on the door.

โ€œUmโ€ฆIโ€™m coming,โ€ I reply, my eyes on the guy downstairs. Heโ€™s being stubborn. But I force him down and open the door.

Eniola is in a black bathrobe that stops above her knees. It has been worn hastily. In a glance, I see more than Iโ€™m supposed to in the cleavage area.

I look at her face. She has tears running down her cheeks.

โ€œItโ€™s not what you think, Eben. I know you saw something but itโ€™s not what you think. Please, can you forget it?โ€

This babe is kidding me. I know what I saw, I know what it means and I sure as hell wonโ€™t forget any of it for a long time.

ยฉSally@moskedapages

Sally

Author. Screenwriter. Blogger

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27 Comments

  1. Tedypine to says:

    Who else thinks this chapter is short. Sally my Sally. You have started again o. Everytime I think your new story can’t be as interesting as the last and everytime you prove me wrong. Can we get an Easter bonus?๐Ÿ˜‰

    1. calabargal says:

      Saly wrote three chapters – two chapters on Eben, one on Halim & you dare call it “short”. Talk about being ungrateful……

      1. Sandra says:

        I don’t think it has anything to do with been ungrateful.

        On the flip side I think we enjoy and and are appreciative of her writing so well enough that want more.

        I sensed appreciation from the poster of the comment rather than ingratitude.

  2. Reni says:

    Lmaooooo

    Pls who is Eniola again??? Can’t seem to remember her character from the Love story.

    I feel Eben and Halim’s pain…..I just hope they won’t go and complicate everything… Like Halim’ with Yemi and Eben with the ‘gilrs’

    1. calabargal says:

      Eni lived down the road from Halim. Aunty Ada was Eni’s father’s mistress… U have to step up girl! Eni’s brother and Eben are best friends’s and Eni wants Eben badly……

  3. Girl says:

    oh Eben please stay true to Hakim and don’t fall for any of ENIOLA’s shenanigans. Control that your member.

  4. Orekelewa says:

    Eniola is swinging both ways?!?! That’s what is sha ringing in my head from this episode ๐Ÿ˜‚

  5. Omotola says:

    I smell loads of drama brewing, but then again it’s sally- Queen of twists. Nice one babes

  6. Tola says:

    Sally Sugar! Thank a bunch! Been refreshing since yesterday. Enjoy your holidays ๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜˜

  7. iamhollarmi says:

    Oliver Twist is here again….. I NVR saw dat coming Nini a lesbian hmm. .. Am glue to dis story like kilode
    Easter bonus fa @Sally Biko
    Ese pupo ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ™

  8. Sandra says:

    This was nice, really nice. Aunty Sally please be good . . Any bonus for the long holiday??? Am dying of wanting more ๐Ÿ˜ฃ

  9. Datoks says:

    indeed Sally is the queen of twist, Eniola well done ma.Hakim will be Alright eventually.

  10. Eclectic says:

    Lols Eniola is confused. Halim take your time, you know Eben is the boo yh? Enjoy and find yourself, work through it all, don’t be bullied by anyone. Rooting for you darling.

  11. Sandra says:

    So I just thought to come back and give you another thumbs up Sally. Your silent show of support and awareness in your books for people living with HIV does not go unnoticed. First ‘Boys with Toys’ and now here.

  12. Ejibabe says:

    ๐Ÿ˜ฅ๐Ÿ˜ฅ๐Ÿ˜ฅ I want them back together pls. Halim and Eben , I also want halim to go for another test. Eni Abeg stay Ur lane and leave Eben alone biko. Mami thanks for another beautiful episode pls I want to ask for another episode .Pretty please. We are greedy like that and it’s because u are such a great writer, u make us yearn for more ‘ our Queen of twist ‘

  13. Knonye says:

    Oh my! Didnโ€™t see the girl on girl act coming at allll… Halim biko pass this temptation and go back for your girl. One love Sally, idi too much. Xx

  14. Carah๐Ÿ’• says:

    Eniola is a what?? Pls i cannor laugh abeg.
    I feel Eben and Halim’s pain๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ญ. Can they just get back together. Beautiful piece as usual sally!!!! Thanks

  15. Modus says:

    LOL that is how I was refreshing like kilode yesterday thinking it was Saturday ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚

  16. Etoya says:

    Eniola is whaaat….i never esperredit…๐Ÿ˜ฎ

  17. AOS says:

    Awwwh Eniola lele, mogbe…..this is getting really interesting. Well-done Sally.
    Happy Easter And Happy New Month.

  18. Amina says:

    This one that Halim is noticing the smallest details about her flatmate…hmm, abi is me that is seeing something that is not there. I want Eben and Halim not Eben and Nini lele…plisss Sal

  19. Oluwakemi says:

    Me I sha hate this Eniola, can she just end up like Tarella in I AS. People like her just end up crazy. Eben please don’t give up on Love.
    Thanks Sally. Trust you had a wonderful Easter holiday

  20. Ifeanyi Onochie says:

    Eben na baaaaaadt guy! LOL! Even he doesn’t know it himself sha. Pity about Halim. When you’re in a place of suffering, you have a way of keeping people who could actually help you escape that situation.

  21. Tolu says:

    Love and its wahala… What’s with exes though? Just when you are doing just fine without them, they pop right in again.

  22. Jennifer says:

    Heeeey Sallly !

    I like how you link all the stories o.

    well done. Eben and Halim should just marry na.

    Halim, EBEN is a honest man..he did not use your money to build his company…and remember the intentions behind the will…your father did it for you and your mum to be protected.

  23. Rikitava says:

    Eleyii gidi gaan o ๐Ÿ˜ข

  24. Seye says:

    Getting more interesting with each episode.
    I still hope Halim will find what is missing, and will rediscover her bubbling self. Life has a way of throwing some things on our ways. It’s our duty to work through them.
    The singular act of Eniola’s has thrown lives into confusion already. It is easy to blame her for it but her foundation is majorly to blame. She learnt from childhood to get things by hook or crook hence the kind of adult she has evolved into.
    Me I sha see the trap she’s setting for Eben. Oga don take eye see her in action. Small small, he go remove the zoning and fall inside temptation wey Eni dey serve am.
    Reading Sally’s stories remind me if a novel series I read back in my teenage years. The characters from a precious story always find their way into a new one seamlessly. Food one there. And for your advocacy in making us see PLWHAs as everyday people, thank you very much.
    I don begin write epsitle. Lemme go…

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