02/02/2016
Seun checked the wall clock for the umpteenth time.
9:00pm.
This was really disturbing. She picked up her phone and dialled his number.
Again.
No answer.
Again.
She was pacing around the living room now, walking off her worry. He was supposed to have come home by 7:30, 8pm at the very latest. And he usually called or sent a message on bbm just before leaving the office. Why would today be any different?
She realized she was dialling his number yet again, and was a bit freaked out to see that she’d tried calling him 17 times. No answer again. She typed him a hasty text message; NOT FUNNY, CALL ME! and decided to distract herself for about 30 more minutes, else she’d go insane with fear and worry. Abi was kidnapping now a thing in this same Abuja???! Continue reading
Towards the end of June this year, being of troubled mind and weary body, I decided to take a trip home to draw strength from the soil in which my umbilical cord is buried, so to speak. And so I set off home. For those who don’t know, “home” for me is Jos; since it is the city of my birth and the bulk of my life adventures. The journey was a long and bumpy road trip filled with self-doubt, a stressed bladder and drowsiness. Eventually I was welcomed into the bosom of my family with no mishaps. The process of drawing strength consisted, for the most part, of me moping around my sister’s house, eating, watching TV and coercing her children into playing with me every now and again. Continue reading
It was years ago when I realized I probably wouldn’t do very well in the “landing men who take me seriously” department. The year was maybe 2006, I was still mop-skinny; thin body, big head. To make things worse I actually had on this weave at that time which had been put together by a hairdresser who maybe was a carpenter in her previous life… Anyway, the weave made my head look much bigger, is the point I’m trying to make. Continue reading
The stereotype is that all married women have to watch their single friends for fear they’ll try to snatch their husbands. The belief is that us single girls are mortally envious of the “luck” our married friends have, and will do anything to make that luck ours.
In actual fact, mami, I’m the one pulling up tired excuses to avoid being around you and your darling hubby. I always knew he was a wild one but he made you happy and i figured marriage would calm him down some. Continue reading
I flash back quickly to that day.
We had gone on a road trip, and ended up in a little hotel in a quiet area, small city on the outskirts of a big town. The heat was doing our heads in and the constant airconditioning provided by the hotel was pure bliss. Nothing like vaseline, or body lotion of any kind had touched my skin in weeks. But of course, such skin-peace was ill-fated; soon I began to feel dried out, and it was embarassing going out because I had only packed short things but those short things showed off my white, scaly skin.
He woke me up one morning and asked if I wanted to come run errands with him. I said no, because 7am was an ungodly hour for me on holiday. So I slept, stretched languidly across the crisp white sheets, rolling cat-like from time to time, flirting with the idea of waking up, but never quite sealing the deal. Some minutes before 11 I decided I was ripe enough for a bath, and unhurriedly went about cleaning myself. When I was done, I made the bed because I could already hear him say, when he would eventually come back, “You can’t make bed?” and I chuckled a little because I already knew him that well. I settled in to watch Big Bang Theory, and was laughing softly when his call came in. How was I doing, what should he bring back to our lair for my breakfast, small talk. Looking down at my reptilian skin later, I texted him to buy me a little tub of vaseline, and even after I pleaded and he argued that he wouldn’t just randomly come across vaseline sellers where he was, we sort of left the topic open-ended.
I threatened him with the classic, “You think you are doing me, you are doing yourself because when we go out I’ll embarrass you with my whiteness” and I smiled as I typed that, because I wished we were in the same place so I could watch him laugh, and soak up the twinkle in his eyes until it passed…
He came back bearing food, which was great enough. Until he pulled out a tiny tub of vaseline. It was a brand I hated, but I really hadn’t expected him to buy any at all. I jumped up and down in excitement, pinned him to the wall and made kissy faces at him while he tried to push me off.
“Are you this cheap, you shoulda just told me all it took is vaseline. Jeez, I wouldn’t have wasted all this time and effort.”
I come back from my reverie and focus my gaze on the tub of vaseline. I’d thrown it in a seldomly used handbag, and there it was…
And I guess, really, I miss you.
Yours,
@MsMeddle
Frank rushed into Ola Mummy canteen in Bodija, hungry as an abandoned baby elephant, and made his order of two wraps of pounded yam, fish and ewedu. So hungry was he that it wasn’t until he’d swallowed the first wrap that his eyes came down, and he could once again see like normal humans do. It was at this point he decided to slow down so he wouldn’t choke. He took his first sip from the 75cl Eva table water bottle the waitress with the blue Staff 24 tshirt had placed before him, and looked around for the first time whilst tenderly unwrapping the second half of his meal.
That was when he saw her. Continue reading
