Got it from a friend's Wall,quite interesting....
Enjoy....

EPISODE 1
My name is Oyinkasola Olaitan Clegg. I am a lady. I am 35. I am single. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with me. But I have had to say this either verbally or otherwise to so many people in the course of the last few years that sometimes I begin to wonder if there’s really nothing wrong with me. Don’t get me wrong, they don’t come and tell me “you are not married Oyin, something must be wrong with you” no, they would never do that. But say it, they did, loud and clear.
Let me not bore you with those parts of my life. As a background, I am a good looking Yoruba girl, well shaped the way African men like their women, with flesh in the right places. I have a first degree from the University of Lagos and a Masters Degree from the University College, London. I am Behind, fresh and a high flyer. I even have the dream job, a CSR person in an oil firm. And I like to live life to its fullest. These are the stories of my encounters, escapades and experiences as I search for the man who will leave his family and cleave to me. Who will love me forever. Who will make my life eternal bliss. Okay, okay, okay, I am doing it again. I tend to project the stories I read into life. Never mind, I am old enough to know that stories are just that, stories.

Its Friday night. And when you say that in Lagos social circles, it could only mean one thing; ditch the suits and let the short dresses, body hugging jeans and bust enhancing tops come forth. And so I called up my friends Toke and Gloria and we agreed to meet up at Mega Plaza to start the night with some chips and seafood. I shutdown at five O Clock and drove straight home to my apartment in Carlton Gate Estate in Lekki. Inside the house, I flopped into my couch and turned on my companion at home, my TV. Now pardon me, but I wonder how life must have been before the TV. If I was lost on an island and I could take only one item along, it had to be either my BB or my TV (see how we have a knack for reducing things to two letter words). As I settled in to rest in reserve for the long night ahead, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen to confirm who it was. It was just Kalu. I was hoping it would be somebody else. I had been ignoring bb messages from him all day and I guess he calculated I’d be off work now and decided to call.

Okay, a little background on him. I am 35 and single (I know I’ve said it before but I need to re-emphasize) so when I really need to get some and there’s no serious person around, I do the phone select. Here’s how it’s done. You pick your phone and scroll through your contacts list and eliminate men based on certain criteria. What you want is a no strings attached person who will not interpret a night together as an invitation to a long term relationship. So you cancel out the fervent toasters, the guys who have been having settling down conversations with you (considering you didn’t consider them settling down material and latch on all the while you’ve been having such conversations) and other such over-serious people. By now, you’ve narrowed the list down. Then you eliminate those who are in places so far it requires too much effort to see. I stay in Lekki, so if you stay in places like Ipaja, Ikorodu and the likes, I ex you from the list. Now I have a probable list. Then I go into the fineries of history together, attraction and settle on a few options. I then put a call through to the best option of the lot and drop a few hints. If he catches on, game on. If he doesn’t, I round the conversation off and move on to the next until I hit jackpot. This was the rigorous screening process I had put Kalu through, but we get wrong sometimes. I was very wrong with Kalu. After the night together (that’s a story for another day), he became all he wasn’t meant to be. Clingy, intrusive and needy.

Anyways, back to the present. I picked the call and the conversation went something like this
Kalu: Hey Princess
Me: Kalu, whatsup (I called him his name, he should get the message)
Kalu: You haven’t responded to my messages all day
Me: I’ve had a full day.
Kalu: But you read all the messages, it said R here. You could have sent a small message. Anyways, you said had, so your workday is over. Are you going out?
Me: (Warning bells, anything I say now will have Kalu trying to be a part of whatever plans) Yes. I’m home now. No I’m not going out, I have a wedding tomorrow and want to rest
Kalu: Okay, I’ll buy dinner and come over.
Me: (Alarm bells) Thanks for the offer Kalu, but the girls are using my pad for a Hen night for the bride to be.
Kalu: (sighs). Okay, I’ll see you after the wedding tomorrow.
Me: Call me before heading o.
Kalu: Goodnight love
Me: Ciao.
Whew. That was close. Quick thinking, quick lying saved the day. Now to rest and get ready for the night out.

At 9:45, I was ready to go out. I was hot, hot, hot. In fact, I was so hot, I was burnt and roasted, lol. I said the spinster’s prayer and stepped out of the house. I hooked up with my girls at Mega Plaza. If you haven’t tried the chips and sea food there, then you are a weist! We shared two plates and by then, it was eleven O clock. We touched up and smiled past the bouncers, very glad with the effect we saw our collective hotness was having (you notice babes look finer as a group than alone)
We took the elevator and then the small flight of stairs up into The Marquee. Lagos sha. People that were at work complaining of tiredness a few hours ago at work were here grooving away. As I was stepping in, someone bumped into me on his way out. I was about to give the person “bad eye” when our eyes met. I felt like entering the ground.
It was Kalu!!!

EPISODE 2
...I quickly gathered myself together and smiled very charmingly, hoping to disarm him. “Hi Kalu”, I said. I was expecting him to go into a series of questions accusing me of lying to him and all, when she came up to him. Inside my inner mind, green envy began to sprout. Her skin was clear like she had someone following her around photoshoping her with each step she took. Abeg, when I see person wey pass me, I admit it. The girl was the kind that entered a room and all the men in the room stopped seeing every other girl in the room and became puppies all around her. She was addressing Kalu now, “Boo, I told you to hold up, I just had to say hi to my friend now”. The confirmation that Koikoi (yes, I gave her a name) was with Kalu and they were obviously intimate made the green monster in my heart leap. I felt a strong urge to punch him in the face, but I respected myself. Why anyway? What claim did I really have to Kalu?

The saying that something becomes more desirable when it’s not yours hit me square in the face. It was even more painful when I realized I was just “one of the options” Kalu had for the night. Then it dawned on me; Kalu had done the phone select, and I was one of the options that didn’t work for that Friday night. The saying, “Do unto others as you would have done unto you” is true oh, cos now that I was on the receiving end, e pain me die.

Kalu quickly did the introductions, and I could see a look in his eyes I suspected was gloating. “Oyin Clegg, my friend,” he said pointing at me while facing her and then turning to face me, he said with meaning “My special friend, Tara Cole”. Ha! Even her name was finer than my own. My night was firmly on the path of depression. They breezed past us towards the spiral steps leading to the elevator, as Kalu said coolly “Enjoy your night girls, and if you’re having any trouble enjoying yours, we’d be glad to help.”
Once they were out of earshot, Toke began laughing stupidly. “Is that the ‘clingy’ Kalu?” she asked sarcastically. “If you don’t leave me en, I will deal with you. Man or no man, we’re grooving tonight and that’s it. I can get a man in this club as easily as Kalu could get another woman jor”. Trust my friends to latch in on something like that. Gloria raised her eyebrow “You get the iPad 3 Alvin is sending next week if you can get someone as hot as the girl Kalu had with him”. I decided to play stupid “Are you suggesting I swing the other way and get a girl instead of a man?” Gloria slapped my butt playfully “You are just an ode. I meant a man with the same degree of hotness as that girl.” I gave it a brief thought. “Okay, it’s a deal. I’ll have to ditch you girls at some point sha o.” We went through the hall to the open balcony and then chose our seats carefully. If you were a girl and hunting, the best place to seat was right in front of the bar. From there, you could see the door and all that came through. The big boys didn’t stay inside the packed hall, they came to the balcony to lounge. So any man worth the while of a Lekki big girl like me would be coming through this door. You could also see if he was in company of some Koikoi kinda girl or alone. Plus seating at the bar meant you could see the ones that had come in before you if they came to order their drinks. You could also gauge them by the size of the bills they came to pay for their drinks from where you sat. So we took the seat.
We were seated, chatting and waiting for our drinks, when it dawned on me.

“Gloria, mad babe. You didn’t say what you would be having if I didn’t win the wager, (Like that could happen with Her Royal Hotness like me).” Gloria smiled like a wolf. “Those your Jimmy Choo shoes”. “Ole,” I shouted. “You have been coveting those shoes since the first day you saw them. Lai lai.” My BB vibrated and I picked it from the table to check the message that had come in at that time of the night. It was Kalu gloating, the eran nme. “I hope the hen night is going very well at your house? Hope y’all are going gingi. #bbmrollingonth­efloo­rlaughing­ smiley.” Then he sent a picture of himself and koikoi kissing passionately in his car with the caption “see what you’re missing”. I was so angry I dumped the BB with a thud. My friends were already curious and dove for my BB without asking. They quickly scrolled through the message and began hissing “this guy is a monkey, this guy is a cow, this guy is (insert any animal name of your choice here)”. While they were engrossed in the BB, we all indulged in calling Kalu all sorts of names. The drinks began to flow and the gist became loser and loser.

Thankfully, I could talk and hunt at the same time. Else I would have missed him. Lord have mercy on your daughter, but if I was Eve and he was the apple, I’d eat him up over and over again and damn every consequence. He was fiiiiiiiiiine. If he passed me too closely I’d begin to breathe heavily. Clean shaven face under a clean shaven head just like I liked them. He was taller than everyone else around him and had chosen to wear a t-shirt that flaunted his muscles. I didn’t mind o, if he got em, he should flaunt em. He reeked of hotness and sensuality and I was hoping I wasn’t drooling now. My friends followed my eyes as did every other set of female eyes there and I could see the thoughts running through their heads were more impure than mine. “If I could hear your thoughts now, I’m sure I’d send you straight to have your insides washed with bleach.” We all laughed and then I continued “I’m sure we all agree that he fits the bill for Gloria and I’s wager.” They both nodded. “Na wa o, he got your tongues? Anyways,” I said, standing up and checking everything to make sure the packaging was done right “iPad 3, here I come!” I did a test shake of the booty “How am I doing back there,” I asked. Toke slapped my butt and said “silly girl. Get out of here and don’t come back empty handed.

I had not taken three steps away from my friends when I felt him (I didn’t need to see him oh, as a hunter that I am, I don’t rely on only my sense of sight). I turned to him and smiled my most sexy smile and cooed “Hello, can we dance?” He didn’t say a word. Hmmm. The cool, few words type. Me likey! He just walked up to me and put his arms around me as if he had possessed me for a long time. I snuggled and shot a glance back at Toke and Gloria. They looked on, wide-eyed. He led me to a corner where there were no tables and as if on cue, the d-jay began to play Waje’s “Can I be your girl for a minute”. The whining and grinding was something else. And could the dude move. I asked if I could take a picture. He nodded yes. I put my booty outrageously close to his crotch and took a picture with my BB. I sent the picture first to Gloria with the caption “One iPad 3 coming up.” Then I sent the same picture to Kalu with the caption, “Missing what?”...

EPISODE 3
...Gloria sent me a bbm that they were leaving The Marquee for Aura. It read “Off to Aura. Enjoy en, and be ready to spill all the details. You’ve gotten the iPad, but I’ll still get dem shoes. #bbdevilsmiley#­”. Ha! I was so keeping my shoes in some bank vault. But I knew it was an effort in futility, cos if Gloria wanted them, she would organize a bank heist to get them. So I was going to tow the line of making available to her anytime she needed them, so that I didn’t lose the shoes altogether.
Anyways, back to the present. I was enjoying all the shaking what my mama gave me and movement with Mr. X. Men, the guy could really move and he had a way of working me into the most desirable positions for body melding dancing.
The d-jay had done a good job of whipping the whole club into a frenzy and now we were getting doses of Terry G and all the Naija ginger movement boys. Visions of the expertise with which he could handle my body raced through my mind and I worked fervently hard to make sure I gave him enough reason to want to. Kalu and Koikoi could go and hug a transformer for all I cared. After what seemed like hours of rollercoaster dancing, he finally put his arms firmly around me and led me towards the hall, and then the exit. Hmmm, a man that was sure of himself and took what he wanted. I was liking Mr. X more and more. In the elevator ride down, I could feel his eyes racing all over my body with intensity and his hands went into his pocket. I could guess what he was trying to hide and I was glad I was having that effect on him.
You know the saying that goes “We guess some people are foolish when they keep quiet, but they remove all doubt the moment they open their mouths”? I’m sure he had heard the saying before and made that his watchword. When we got downstairs, he spoke “Aunty, before I go on and enter the car park with you, we need to discuss price.” That’s how I would have said it. This is actually how he said it “Haunty, before Hi go Hon Hand Henter the car park with you, we need to dilscuss price”. Oh my God! He sounded like he was acting out a scene from Jennifer. That must be the worst H factor I’ve ever heard. And to cap it all, he thought I was a call girl. Oyin omalicha, you have suffered in this your life. See en, I can live with most things, but a man with an H factor is just a no no, a total turn off. Calmly, I answered “I’m not up for sale. There’s no need to discuss a price for anything.” He smiled, and looking at his face now, I wondered what I was attracted to in the first place (bad belle on my part o, he is damn fine). “Madam, I was not talking about price for taking you home. I’m talking about the price you have to pay for me going home with you and servicing you for the night. I thought you knew the way things are now.”
I nearly died where I was standing. He was a gigolo. This nonsense man finished looking at me and I looked like someone who could not get a man without paying for one. A thousand concentrated Yoruba curses raced into my head, but I refused to say a word. I just turned and began walking away when he grabbed me by the arm. “You can’t just go like that now, I gave you a good part of my night when I could have been pursuing other clients. You have to settle me.” I couldn’t believe what was happening. I don’t know which shocked me more, what he was saying, or the fact that he dared to lay his hands on me (forget that I had been dreaming of having those hands on discreet parts of my anatomy for most of the night). Those curses I had done well to keep sealed away came rushing out and the Yoruba girl in me shot to the surface “Oloshi, oloriburuku, e.t.c.” He held me menacingly and I was sure he was going to hurt me. I was in serious trouble.
Be nice to people, okay, cos you never know when they will come in handy. The guys that parked our cars at the Marquee who knew me well (I am generous, wink wink) came to my rescue. When Mr. X saw that he was outnumbered, he stepped away, waving a finger at me as he backed away and then pruned himself and went back into the club.
“When I see you with am, I been dey wonder o”, one of them was saying to me. “She no sabi their type”, another one said. “Na true, she no be like the type wey dey use those dirty boys,” a third chipped in. They followed me to my car, saying they wanted to make sure I was safe. But I understood them well, so I parted with one thousand naira as I entered the car amid chants of “madam the madam”. I had had enough for the night. All I wanted to do was get home, scrub myself clean of all the events of the night and curl up in bed. I’m tired of this Lagos sef. I think I need a vacation, Miami, beaches and bikinis. I sent Toke a voice note with the gist of Mr. X and headed for home. I knew she would probably not see and listen to it till morning and that was fine by me. I was not in the mood to talk to anyone tonight...

Watch out for Episode 4....

Wow!....find this interesting...will be following for real...waiting patiently for the remain part....thumbs up at op..

Sheenor: Wow!....find this interesting...will be following for real...waiting patiently for the remain part....thumbs up at op..

Thanks Mate.....

EPISODE 4

...I didn’t go anywhere on Saturday, the activities of the night before had worn me out. On depressing occasions like that, I get the inspiration to write poetry. Yes, Oyin is a poet. One of these days, if you guys ask me enough, I’ll read some of my poems to you. So the day dragged on until evening when my girls came over. Gloria and I reached a compromise. I did get a guy as hot as Kalu’s Koikoi, so I could claim the iPad. But the guy turned out to be a gigolo(ewww) so she could claim my shoes. So I wasn’t going to get the iPad, as long as she didn’t come within a one meter radius of my shoes (like that would happen in this lifetime and beyond). They basically did what they came for – Eat my food, drink my wine, scatter my house, talk about men, abuse men, long for men, and leave with my stuff. And oh yes, Gloria left with my shoes. See en, people that come to your house and do all the things I listed above are your true closest friends. I went to bed with my spirit considerably lifted when my friends had left. The alcohol of course helped a little. Okay, more than a little, wink wink.
I went to bed after watching some episodes of Spartacus Blood and Sand. I don’t know why, but I have a thing for that series. One of my favorite Naija songs right now even references it “Jide Kosoko, shay o le fi shay Spartacus, Jor oooo”, lmao!

I woke up on Sunday morning with a sense of expectation. I always feel really close to God on Sundays and I excitedly went about getting prepared for church. Light breakfast of toast and tea. Then it was time to get dressed for church. Now you might say I’m vain, but if you go to my church, you had better reeeeaaallly get dressed for church. The hottest, the latest, the sharpest, the cream de la cream of my cream axis attended my church. And you never know if you’ll meet the one so as a scout, I had to be prepared. Anyways, where better to meet him than church. So I put on a Tiffany Amber dress and a pair of Prada shoes and Prada bag to match and completed the look with a scarf and sunshades. I decided to do the cloudy eyed eyeshadow I saw on the style network during the week and did the Angelina Jolie lipstick thingy. I took a look at my creation in the mirror and I said like the Lord, it is good, alleluia.

Church service was going well and I was in the spirit, while surveying the pews for any particularly husbandable man (a good hunter is always alert). Then the senior pastor of our church (who I wouldn’t have minded marrying, he’s much too much) came up to welcome first timers. Time for the handshakes and plastic church smiles to come out. “I want to specially recognize a dear friend of my family,” Hot Pastor was saying. “He is a multiple award winning and bestselling author, and his last book, The Epic, is currently being adapted into a movie in Hollywood. Please join me in welcoming my brother from another mother, Femi Tosh.” I scrambled to look in the direction where Hot Pastor’s friend was standing up from. And then I saw him. Tosh was just the short form for Omotosho. Femi Omotosho. Oh my God. My heart did multiple flips upon seeing him, but I was not seated close enough to him to give him a handshake or smile.

Before you start thinking I’m some desperado who wants to donate smiles and handshake and flipping hearts to every man that is a visitor in my church, let me give you a short history on Femi Omotosho. Fresh from my Masters in my mid twenties, I met him. Femi was every lady’s dream, suave dresser, smooth talker and held down a bank job. But that was before you started dating him oh. You discovered then that he was from a poor background, all his money went into supporting his family and pursuing his dreams. Nothing for you to even be a babe. It was a hard pill for me to swallow but I tried to stick with Femi. Back then, I didn’t have the high paying job I have now, so I depended on Femi, but as he was so focused on family and dreams, he couldn’t give me the trips around the world, and all the nice things a fine girl like me required. So I left him. Okay, let me be truthful, I threw tantrums, said all sorts of cruel things to him and about him and then left him. Barely a year after I left him, his first book won the NLNG award and he got two hundred thousand dollars. The rest is history, he left the country, won more awards, and became a part of my past I regretted and forgot. Now, having him in my church, looking so smashing, successful and every woman’s dream brought all the regrets I had been trying to bury to the surface. I did a quick scan of his left hand, no ring. So he wasn’t married. I had to find a way to meet him at the end of the service.
For the rest of the service, I heard nothing. My mind was in a far away place, imagining what could have been with him. I’d be travelling the world now, going for Hollywood events and probably nursing a little Femi now. The service seemed to last an eternity, it took so long to end. When it was announcement time and the deacon who liked the sound of his own voice over the sound system climbed the stage, I let out a few words I hoped no resident angels in our church heard. He droned for longer than he should until a not so hot pastor came to stand beside him. He got the cue and rounded off his droning. If eyes could kill en, the deacon would have fallen dead with the way I looked at him. All the while, my eyes never left where Femi was (yes, I can look at two places at the same time ).

Service finally ended and I saw ushers leading Femi towards Hot Pastor’s office. By the time I got there, he had already gone into the office. I contemplated waiting for him to come out, but that would be too easy to see through. Femi has a way with words, and knowing him, he would make me look very silly right there (not like he didn’t have a right to sha). Thankfully, I was Hot Pastor’s personal convert so I had access to his office. I went through the mill of waiting faithful. The ushers who looked more like the bouncers I saw at Marquee on Friday night knew me and let me go in. I knocked on Hot Pastor’s door and his rich voice came from inside the room “Please come in”. I took a deep breath and muttered under my breath “here goes nothing” and then opened the big door.
He was seated facing the pastor, with his back towards the door so he didn’t see me come in. I was glad about that because I had the time to gather myself together. Hot Pastor got up and came round his desk to hug me “Miss Clegg,” he was saying “it’s been a while.” Femi’s eyes followed Hot Pastor around and then fell on me. He looked shocked “Oyin!” he exclaimed.
Hot Pastor looked from him to me and then back “you know each other?” “Very well,” Femi responded with meaning. You know what knowing a woman means in bible terms. My mind went back to when Femi knew me. I said with more calmness than I felt “Long time no see Femi, how have you been?” “Very well, thank you. And I don’t need to ask how you’ve been, my eyes tell me,” he responded. Hot Pastor clapped me on the back playfully, “small world”, he said “Femi is like a brother.” Either Hot Pastor was blind or he chose to ignore the tension that was in the room. He continued “I need to quickly address the deacons; I’ll leave you two to catch up on old times. I’m sure there’ll be loads to talk about while I’m gone”. He was leaving me alone with Femi. This was what I wanted, but a fear crept into my heart. What would Femi say to me when we were alone? I felt like running after Hot Pastor, as he shut the door behind him....

EPISODE 5

...When I turned, Femi had stood up to tower above me, and I found myself searching desperately for something to say. He relished the effect he was having on me and something warned me that this was not the sweet Femi of yesteryears; that he had grown harder and wiser in the ways of the world. Then he smiled and said, “I have missed you Oyin. Ten years, and I’m still single, still without a woman because I carried you into every relationship I had.” What! Alleluia. Somebody say glory! Let the angels proclaim! His words were music to my ears. I was expecting harsh words, but he had opened up to me like this. Oh, I’m gonna make it up to you Femi, I’m going to meet your every need, be your every comfort and we will never be apart again.
I covered the distance between us in a single stride and held him in my arms (I’m proactive ). “Oh God,” I cooed to him, “I’ve missed you so much. I’m still single too (had to let him know quickly that I was available too oh), no one else could do, no one else could take your place, absolutely no one. I’m so sorry for…” He placed a finger on my lips and said “shhhh. Don’t even bring that up, it’s the past and it’s forgotten. I’m just glad you can still be mine.” I was about to die and go into the ninth heaven. This was too good to be true, I was reeling with happiness, I felt like singing a hymn, oh joy eternal. I was already seeing aso ebi, white wedding dress and a cross continental crisscrossing trip for the honeymoon. I even mentally called myself Oyin Tosh, to see how it would sound. It sounded as Behind as my current name. Perfect! By the time Hot Pastor came back in, we had already exchanged the following
Phone numbers
BB Pins
My House Address and the Hotel he was staying
A kiss.
He walked me to my car and I left floating on air. On my way back home, a keke napep brushed my car, and the guy had already come down and was prostrating and begging. But no keke napep was stealing my joy. I just went back into my car and drove off, shebi the scratch was kuku very small.

Toke came by and thankfully brought Shoprite bread so I didn’t have to warm anything. We just did the bread with butter and juice. I downloaded the day’s event for her. “The same Femi that mumutised for u?” Toke asked. “You are just a foolish child, en you this Toke for bringing that up. You wan cry pass the person wey e dey pain?”
Just in case you are wondering what I’m talking about, let me explain. Mumutising is the art of you being a mumu for your partner. I have a theory that everyone mumutises at least once in life (some people do it severally, some learn sharply and never mumutise again ever, the key phrase is ‘at least once’). So I was the partner Femi mumutised with. Anyways, back to my current convo with Toke.

“Did you take any pictures with him, I wonder how he looks these days,” she said. I checked his DP on BBM. Not his picture. Toke entered espionage mode. “Shebi he’s a bestselling author. Let’s Google him. We should see some recent pictures”. I sharply powered up my laptop and did just that. Yes there were pictures o, plenty. He was really big outside Naija. There were pictures of him with celebs from all around the world. Nia Long, Tyra Banks, Serena Williams, Djimon Honsou, and many more. And he had access to all these hot hot celebs and he had come back to me. Right then, I felt like I was the fairest of them all, omo toh quality gaan. “Hmm, Oyin, this all seems too good to be true o. Hope there is nothing wrong with this guy. Abi he is gay ni”. Sparks flew in my eyes, “What kind of talk is that now? So something must be wrong with him for him to come to me? If you want to abuse me, say it plainly now, don’t use style.” Toke was taken aback by my outburst “Haba, cool down now. I’m just talking as your girl. I have to have your back and in my experience, once it seems too good to be true, it probably is.” “Okay o,” I said rolling my eyes, “I have heard you.”

We relaxed to our meal while watching American Idol. We were so engrossed in the gist and TV that I didn’t notice my BB blinking until American Idol was over. A big smile came to my face when I saw who it was. Femi. He had sent a voice note some forty minutes earlier. It went something like this “Hey babe, hope you still like wearing those lovely gowns. I’ll come by to pick you up at seven for dinner. Make me drop dead when I see you, ciao.”
Toke took the phone and played it over and over again, singing Banky W’s Omoge you too much as she did. That girl was just so silly. I checked the time. It was five thirty. Ninety long minutes before my future husband came to take me out. Mr. X, Kalu and the rest of their likes seemed like a distant past now.

Dressing me up for the date required two hands o, no be small matter. We spent thirty minutes on the internet before we picked out a look (as the bobo is used to celebs, make me sef try now) and then systematically went about transforming me into that look. By the time we were done, Toke was sweating and I was dazzling. She wasn’t going home anyways, she had clothes in her car and would just go to work from mine tomorrow. I was thankful it was a Sunday, because the housecleaner came this afternoon, the house was looking spick and sparkle. By the time we were done with preparations, it was five minutes to seven. Ten minutes later, his call came through. “I’m turning into your estate, so I’ll be at your house shortly.” “Alright boo, I’m dressed up and ready”, I replied and hung up.
Moments later, the doorbell rang. Toke went to get the door for me, while I went into the room to take one last look at myself before letting him see me. When Toke’s bbm that he was seated came in, I took a breath and stepped out. I checked for his reaction. I could tell he liked what he saw. I went to the door and opened it and struck a sexy pose “shall we? Or would you rather spend the evening looking at me?” He laughed as he stood up “that wouldn’t be such a bad idea you know?” He covered the distance between us in two strides and had his arms around me in the same movement “as tempting as that prospect is, I have something special planned for this evening, so we should get going.” Special something, something special. The words rolled in my mind and I could see him on one knee in a restaurant proposing to me tonight. I couldn’t wait.

We got to the place somewhere in Phase 1 and he led me through the restaurant, up some stairs and then to an open roof with a table for two already set, complete candles lit. The picture of him proposing to me in my head was now in high definition and 3D. We had a lovely three course meal, and talked about beautiful things, his life, my life (the good, wifely parts o, no Mr. X). We even talked about things like number of kids, type of bedroom furnishings and co. Every time his hand went below the table, I expected it to come up with a ring.
After the meal, he held my hands and looked into my eyes. I was sure this was the moment, the climax. First he asked me if I enjoyed the meal. I nodded, cat got my tongue. I could hear the drum rolls now, he would do it any moment from now.
Then he hit me with the bombshell. “You know the saying ‘Revenge is best served cold’”, he said with a twisted, sardonic smile. “So you dey find readymade husband. Your father!” he said, opening his palms at me. Then he stood up and left me there, sitting transfixed to my chair. The shock kept me pinned to the chair, motionless and speechless for some minutes. Then I called Toke “Please come and pick me up”...

ManiCypher:

“You know the saying ‘Revenge is best served cold’”, he said with a twisted, sardonic smile. “So you dey find readymade husband. Your father!” he said, opening his palms at me. Then he stood up and left me there, sitting transfixed to my chair. The shock kept me pinned to the chair, motionless and speechless for some minutes. Then I called Toke “Please come and pick me up”...

Whooo!..this is not good.....this is really bad......the guy take it too far....i hope this babe won't get stroke frm this sha...

Some women really deserve such...
Following by the way

naijaboiy: Some women really deserve such...
Following by the way

i see u mates....d story continues..

EPISODE 6

I could not even drink myself to sleep that night. No alcohol could numb my pain and I spent a large part of the night re-enacting the night in my head and adding all sorts of evil things I should have done to Femi as he left. I couldn’t pull myself together to go to work the next day and quickly sent an sms to my boss to allow me take the day off. I stumbled around my house in just my underwear, picking things up, arranging things. I had Adele’s 21 album on repeat. Talk about setting the mood. Men, Femi hit me way way way below the belt. I had mumutized big time.

It was 8:30am when my phone rang. I didn’t bother to pick the phone, I didn’t want to talk to anyone that day. The phone rang a few more times, and I let it ring out. Then my other phone rang, and I knew it had to be someone real close, since few people had that number. I stumble-walked into the room from where I stood in the parlor and checked the caller id. It was Ossy. I picked the call and put the phone on speaker as I flopped onto the bed.

Ossy: Hey babes
Me: Hi
Ossy: Dropped into your office and was told you called in sick. What’s the ish dear
Me: Yeah
Ossy: Ah an! Which one is this monosyllabic mode you are giving me now?
Me: Sorry
Ossy: Anyways, open your door, I’m here
Me: Where?
As an answer, my doorbell rang. I heard it both from outside and through my phone.
Me: What! (Shriek) You’re at the door. Ossyyyyyyyyy
Okay, lemme tell you about Ossy before you begin to wonder if all my travails have finally left me delusional and I’ve started taking phone calls from an imaginary person. Ossy works in my office. He’s an oga, so Oil and Gas money plenty, dashing dark dude, witty, intelligent and goes out of his way to make me happy. And men, when I say goes out of his way, I mean he wows me steady. Ossy doesn’t hide that he’s crazy about me, and wants me to be his woman.
I’m sure by now you are wondering if I am crazy. Here I am, going through hell and high waters to find a husband, and I have Ossy dying to make me his wife. But I guess that’s the irony of life. Ossy being so available makes him just not desired like that and his sweetness sometimes comes off as desperately dramatic. So he provides the shoulder that I cry on whenever my heart is broken (which is better than having Toke tell me “I told you so” in every gesture), the ears that listen to my tales of woe, and the balm that soothes and heals me. Every time, he hopes; and every time so far, I have run out on him once healed. I know I’m gonna get possessive if he ever wants to marry another girl sha. By the way, Ossy is short for Ositalogbon Onisokame. Each time I consider him, somehow, the thought of going from Oyin Clegg to Oyin Onisokame sort of does a Hulk Smash! And beats all such thoughts to death.

Anyway, back to today. So I put on a boubou and headed for the door. When I opened the door, Ossy’s wide smile greeted me and I couldn’t help but give him a tired smile. “Seems you’ve gone down one cup size”, he said, grinning mischievously. I laughed for the first time since yesterday night. Ossy’s way of telling me I’ve lost weight is to point out that my boobs have become smaller. Nonsense shudren.
“I would say you look like a hot mess, but then you know that already.” He stepped in and gave inglorious me a big hug and I felt safe in his arms.
“First to make sure you add flesh.” He went into my kitchen and began to rummage through my fridge. In minutes, a beautiful aroma began coming out of my kitchen. Ossy came out and changed the music. “No sad women singing about broken hearts for company, only dashing young men”. He slotted in Tu Baba’s Unstoppable album and did some silly dance moves. A few minutes past 9, a sumptuous breakfast of bread and eggs and sausages was ready with steaming coffee. He served me on the couch and I began to break the bread at the edges. As I ate and the heat of the coffee warmed my hands, I began to pour out my woes to Ossy. He listened to me patiently and kept me eating as I spoke.

“Ossy, you want to get me fat and unattractive so no man else will like me abi?” I asked laughing. “Anything to achieve my aims,” he retorted, a sheepish smile on his face too. Somewhere, something tugged at my mind and kept asking me why dependability was within reach and I kept looking for the super duper flyest hubby around. Toke had once asked me if I wasn’t being followed from wherever I am from. Sometimes I wonder so too myself.
The shrill sound of Ossy’s alarm broke into our world and he quickly checked the phone. “Gotta go, appointment at DPR”. My mood took an instant nosedive.
He kissed my forehead and adjusted his tuck-in. Reluctantly, I stood up to go and let him out and waited at the door to hear the sound of his car leave and then dragged my feet to the couch. My house felt empty without now that I was alone. BBs are saviors at times like these. Going through updated status messages (and everyone does that jor) is an easy way to while away such time. I picked my BB up and noticed it was blinking. I had ignored it all morning, so I guessed I had tons of pending messages.
All the usual suspects had sent me messages. My mum. My girls. Kalu (RME) and hawt (as one of the commentators on the blog corrected me) Pastor. Most recent of my chats was one from Ossy. I quickly opened the chat to see what he was saying. I had two pending voice notes from him. I played the first and his voice came through.

“Hey dear. Go to your kitchen and look under your microwave. Do not open the second VN until you do”. He chuckled at the end of the message and I was so totally tempted to open the second one but decided to play along. I ran into the kitchen and lifted the microwave up. My eyes widened when I saw what was there. A return ticket to Dubai and a 5 day holiday package. I quickly listened to the second VN. Ossy’s voice sounded like sweetness now “I think you need that break you’ve been talking about dear. I’m handling your leave already so you don’t need to bother to come to the office. Enjoy your trip. And call me when you get there. Ciao”.

I stood dumbfounded!
How could someone be so sweet? If it was 99% of the men I knew, for such a gesture, they would expect plenty payment in kind. I dialed Ossy’s number but he cut the call and I guessed he was in his meeting already. I checked the flight details. I had only 3hrs to get to the airport. I hummed a tune as I packed up, wondering where in the heavens men like Ossy were made. Maybe I’d give him a chance when I got back from this trip...

EPISODE 7

...And so Oyin Clegg broke out of her depression. Not exactly getting her groove back yet oh. And she’s happy, a man might have finally killed the dragon to come rescue her from the dungeon of singleness with his sweetness. See me oh, as Ossy is making me wax lyrical. Me that called in sick at work that morning was in a cab enroute the airport, looking all fly, omo toh badt gaan. I wore my favorite jeans, one that made men turn around and take a second look at my behind, and a chiffon top with a hat to match and my very tech specs. I surveyed myself before my mirror for a few minutes. If you can have a tummy like mine at 35 without body magic and lipo, then you are one of the chosen few (some of you will say shebi I haven’t had kids yet, but darris your consign #yimu). Satisfied with what I saw, I called my cab man. I’m one of those that yab people for coming to the airport dressed as if they were going to a Paris runway, but hec, I’m feeling gay and intend to dress every inch so. I tried Ossy’s number again but when it didn’t go through, I kuku sent him a VN, expressing (profuse) thanks and calling him many sweet names I shall not mention to you.

Onto big girl things, I didn’t use any of those painted cabs. My cab man drove a black Honda City, with full blasting ac. With Lagos traffic, caused by unruly drivers, things like Lekki toll gate and the sheer number of we Lagosians that equate owning your own car to a status symbol, the ac is very essential.
After battling mad traffic, I made it to the airport just on time. Thankfully, Ossy had checked me in online and I didn’t have excess luggage, so I just went up, got frisked and went into the waiting area to chill for the next 30minutes for my flight (30mins before is just on time for a flight in Naija). I was so engrossed in the Tunde Leye novel I was reading on my iPad, I didn’t notice her when she walked up to me, until her hands covered the screen. I was about to give it to the person when I saw who it was. And she was the last person I wanted to see.

You know those people that seem to have perfect lives, as against your own. Got into university right out of secondary school when you waited for Jamb for a year. Got a 2;1 while being very popular in school, whereas you had to select which semester you wanted to pass and which you wanted to be social. Has a job just as good as yours. Got married in her mid twenties. Has a fine hubby. Two kids, one boy and one girl. And the person has a way of asking “innocent” questions that are really veiled barbs aimed at you where it pains most. And each time you see her, you are reminded of how much your life is missing. That’s the five foot eight yellow pawpaw standing in front of me now.

“Hi Oyin, so nice to run into you…”
“Moroti, moroti (fake smile from me), how now? Been a while o. where are you headed”.
“My own waka no dey pass UK now. Are you traveling alone? (barb question 1, meaning, hope you have finally found a man)
I responded “Holidaying in Dubai.”
“Abdul is around with the kids oh, I left him with them there when I saw you and decided to come say hi”. (Barb 2, meaning some of us have a family we travel with).
We chatted for a bit, and she kept throwing the barbs, until the announcer saved me. Normally, they have to announce like three times before I go and board, but today, before the first announcement was finished, I escaped from Moroti sharply. No goodie two shoes was gonna spoil my mood for this trip.

In no time, I boarded and was glad I had a window seat. On my way in, I had passed one of those agbayas that still dress like Wizkid and Davido wannabes when they’re over thirty. Beats me how a full grown man will want to dress like a boy. Some of them are old enough to be Davido’s daddy oh. Anyway, I stowed away my luggage overhead and took my seat.
Not wanting to be disturbed, I looked intently into the window and got lost in thought, oblivious to the goings-on around me.

“Interesting convo with your friend there”, came a thick, rich baritone from beside me, drawing me out of my beautiful thoughts. I turned to see who had such a lovely voice, praying in that breath that the man would match his voice.
Oh my God, yes oh my goodness gracious God. The prayer was answered. Emphatically answered. Resoundingly answered. Beside me was my dream. Taye Diggs complexion. Chocolatey (pronounce Cha-ka-lay-ti ) Even seated you could tell he was tall. Age, I put somewhere in the range of 37 (yes, I have in-built age sensors in my eyes). Well put together. Immaculately dressed. Well manicured finger nails. Those dancing, intelligent kinda eyes. Handsoooooooome­. Mo gbe, mo ku, mo daran (in Wande Coal voice inside my head).

I straightened up sharply, thankful I had taken care to dress as well as I did. He introduced himself as Yomi Kester-Jacobs. My head did a quick memory search. It couldn’t be the same Kester-Jacobs, Lagos big family (yes I keep well informed of such). And if I wasn’t mistaken, this Yomi was the scion and only son of that family. “Oyin Clegg”, I said calmly, masking the riot of thoughts going through my mind. “So are you really travelling alone?” he pressed. I didn’t have any qualms admitting that to a dashing stranger who seemed alone himself. “Yeah”, I replied. “And you?”
He was alone too. I knew this Yomi to be single, from the tabloids. I asked if he was just stopping over in Dubai enroute elsewhere in Asia and he wasn’t. He was in Dubai for four days on business. I told him I was in Dubai for five days. “Well, it is not good for man to be alone, so says the Holy Book,” he joked, and then offered to be my company in Dubai. I did a backflip in my mind. “Sure”, I said chic-ily.
By the time I landed in Dubai, I had all but forgotten about Ossy. And so began my whirlwind romance with Lagos big boy, Yomi Kester-Jacobs..­.

EPISODE 8

...I got back from Dubai five days later, with my man. Now that’s the sweetest thing to say. Me, Oyin omo Clegg that left Lagos manless, I'm returning with a man, and a hec hunk of a man. I wish I would run into that Moroti again now, so I could smugly answer all her snide questions, but fate would not have it so. And you know, the sweetest thing about Yomi is that all through our stay in Dubai, he didn’t ask for sex (even though I was hoping he would #evilgrin#). He wanted to prove to me that it was not just a holiday/­business trip fling he wanted. SO he told me that we would save the real deal (yes, there were other things I shall keep only to myself) until much later. Men, o ti ba mi seriously for this guy. It felt like I’d known him for more than the few days we had spent in Dubai. We had connected on so many levels. The trip had been so much fun, and he had spoilt me silly, shopping, spa treatments, exotic meals et al. These days sha, I have toned down on the dreaming (wisely so, after my last set of experiences), so I hadn’t started imagining us walking down any aisle or dancing to Chop My Money at our wedding reception.

For the first time when I was returning from outside, I didn’t notice the Naija heat as we stepped out of the plane. I practically waltzed to the arrival lounge to wait for my luggage. I couldn’t be bothered that the air-conditionin­g wasn’t working there. Yomi guided me away from the conveyor belt, “We don’t have to wait dear; my people will sort the luggage out and deliver it to your house”. See levels o. #In Jenifa Voice# ayam on the fast track! Lol. This was the life men. I couldn’t wait to fill my girls in on my trip. I had loads of pictures on my iPad and BB to ensure that my gist was substantiated with visual evidence lest they began to think I had gone so delusional I was now having an imaginary boyfriend.

I was so engrossed in this world I didn’t see him. But he had seen me, seen it all. Seen me all over Yomi. Seen Yomi playfully kiss my forehead. Even seen me slap his butt as I laughed at a joke. He stood transfixed to the spot he was, and I’m sure if he was white, he would have been bright red from the look on his face. I looked up and I saw Ossy standing, a bouquet of roses in hand, eyes blazing at me. In my enraptured world, I had totally forgotten about the reason I had been on my way to Dubai in the first place. This was bad, really bad. How would I manage Ossy to make sure he didn’t create any scene? How would I explain to Yomi that there was nothing between me and this man who knew my travel plans so well that he knew when to wait at the airport, rose in hand for me? Ossy stood where he was, as if daring me not to come to him.

“Yomi, I’ve gotta say hello to someone, I’ll be back shortly”. Thankfully, he was on the phone and only nodded. I walked gingerly towards Ossy, feeling like a child who had done something bad and was about to face her daddy for that wrongdoing.

“Hi”, I ventured.
“And what the hell are you doing with him all like that?” he asked not so calmly, his hands saying more than his lips were.
I firmed my voice up. After all, I wasn’t dating Ossy, and had the right to see anyone I wanted. “I met him on the trip and we connected. And take that look out of your eyes, he hasn’t touched me”.
“Of course he hasn’t”, Ossy said sarcastically.
I was angered. “What exactly do you mean by that? And why do I have to explain myself to you?”
He threw the roses on the floor and smiled “of course you don’t have to. And as to what I meant, you’ll find out in due time”.
The smile sent a chill down my spine more than anything Ossy said. I placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to plead with him “Ossy, you are my friend. I always thought you would be happy for me when I finally met someone. Now is the time to be happy for me dear. Please.” He put a hand on my hand and looked into my eyes and it was only then I could see the sadness there. Then he took my hands of his shoulder and let it go. Right there, I felt a deep sense of loss. I had lost a friend.

“Hey dear, who’s this?” Yomi asked from behind me. I tried to formulate all the answers I could that would make sense in my head, but I drew on blanks.
“I’m Ossy, her colleague from work. Meeting my madam here today jare, she’s been away for barely a week and it seems like an eternity already”, Ossy answered, chuckling.
Yomi laughed too. “That’s this love thing oh,” he said, putting his arms around me to mark me as “territory”. I have never felt that awkward, but Ossy was such a sport. Then Yomi turned to me “time to go dear, driver’s waiting and luggage is all sorted”.
We said our goodbyes and I walked away with Yomi. I couldn’t look back to see Ossy. I knew I wasn’t doing anything technically wrong, cos I hadn’t asked for any of the things Ossy had done for me, neither was I dating him. But I still felt real bad.
Two cars had come to pick us, an Armada for the luggage and a G-Wagon for us. Expectedly, the moment the car moved, he asked “So who really is that guy”? I weighed my options in my head.

Option 1 – Lie so well and get away with it (I doubted I’d be able to pull that off)
Option 2 – Lie so badly it would look like I was hiding something and lose Yomi
Option 3 – Tell the truth and Yomi would believe and all would be well
Option 4 – Tell the truth and Yomi would believe there’s more between Ossy and I than I told him and lose him.
Life is so unfair. The odds are totally stacked against me. Why is it that of the four options, three have to end badly for me? Would I have to delete those pictures and have no stories to tell Toke and Gloria when I get home today?
I looked into his eyes and made my choice...

To be continued.....

EPISODE 9

Option taken – "Three!". Yes, against all my Lagos sharp sense, I decided to take a risk on Yomi and tell him the truth, and scenario three played out. Lesson learnt – if you want it long term with someone, come out clean, no hidden anything. He looked me in the eye after I had told him and said “Oyin, if you had lied, I would have known and I would have ended it here and now.” And I knew he meant it.

Sunday was my day with my girls (proudly so). I could regale you with all the tales of our day at the beach, but the only part you are gonna read is the fact that the oooohs and aaaahs that I got as I told them about Yomi and I could fill a book. Toke knew of Yomi (who Toke no sabi), and she told me I had hit it big if I hooked him. Glo was also very happy for me and I felt refreshed and ready for the week. Okay, lemme give you guys a bit of juicy gist from Gloria. Remember Alvin who was supposed to send the iPad that I was supposed to win in the episode about Mr. X (RME) with the H factor? Well, Gloria thought they were headed somewhere. He’s based in Jand and used to call her a lot initially. Recently, he has reduced his calling and he’s been complaining about all sorts and giving excuses for not calling. She called him while I was away in Dubai, and the conversation went something like this
Gloria: Hello darling
Female Voice: May I know who is speaking? (English accent)
Gloria: That’s my line. Why are you answering my boyfriend’s phone
Female Voice: Because I’m his wife and the mother of his two kids?
Gloria: (Quiet)
Female Voice: Alvin… come and get the phone
Alvin: Who is this?
Gloria: Who was that?
Alvin: My wife.
Gloria: Alvin, you are married…
Alvin: I can explain. It’s for my papers. It’s one oyinbo woman.
Gloria slammed the phone

All these foolish men that will come here and be deceiving us. That’s why me I don’t do distance. Too much room for lies and deceit abeg. The talk is in the eyes, oju loro wa.

Monday and I got to work and raced to my desk. I avoided going anywhere I thought I would meet Ossy. That’s the issue with office anything. I had not even dated and broken up with him and it was this awkward. I couldn’t imagine how it would be if we had actually dated. Gladly, I knew it was a bad idea and didn’t date him.
Apart from that, the day was a blast. Everyone commented on how well I looked and how good the rest must have been. I chose not to call Yomi to see if our first work day apart would be a no talk during the day kinda work day. My booboo sugarbunny snucklesnuggle (did u roll your eyes?) called me thrice during the day and we talked (I used my handsfree o, all you LASTMA people reading this) all through my drive home...hehehe!

And so my week went something like this – great days at work, two dinners with boo, and #my lips are sealed about these parts#. Suffice to say that I had ice cream eaten off me and so on and so forth.
On Saturday morning, I decided to check on Gloria and squeeze breakfast out of her lazy ass. I thought I was through with shockers in this my life, but I got a huge one as I rounded the bend into her street. There was my yellow pawpaw friend, leaning over a car I was very familiar with and kissing the occupant squarely on the lips. The car drove past mine as I tried to park properly, and it was gone before I got out of my car.

“Gloria, what was that you were doing with Ossy?”
Gloria gave me a look that said en en and then fired “Question! What did it seem like I was doing?”
“But Glo, it’s Ossy now. You cannot be seriously seeing him now. It’s just wrong on different levels.”
“Why? Tell me one reason why? It’s not like you are dating him or like you ever did. Now that you’ve found you a good man, na only you wan marry? Me I didn’t see anything bad in Ossy, and so I called him up. We hooked up, and he shared his own heartbreak and I shared mine. And one thing led to another. What exactly is wrong about dating a very single man who seems ready to settle down and is seriously talking marriage at my 36years old?”
“Glo, seriously talking marriage after how long now? He was seriously thinking marriage with me just a few weeks ago. It smells fishy o”
“So it smells fishy because it’s not you abi? Please spare me abeg”.
I just stood speechless because I knew she was in the right with everything she was saying, but a certain but kept playing at the back of my mind. It just didn’t sit right. In that split second, I had to caution myself. Was I expecting Ossy to keep waiting for me ni? And shouldn’t I have been happy for him when I expected him to be happy for me when he met Yomi? And it wasn’t really worth quarreling with Gloria over. Really not.

“Oya sorry dear, na just shock catch me”, I said, smiling at Gloria. I could see she was visibly relieved that I wasn’t going to make issues out of this situation.
“Since man sleep for your house, I hope you sha cooked for him because me na food I come chop for your house.”
“Yes now, I had to show him I’m wife material now”
“En, and I know it’s not just in the cooking you showed him, oya gist me every every abeg.”
She threw her head back and laughed. It was good to see my friend laugh. “You know that thing Toke said about Bini men…”
I winked and laughed too “Dem no dey carry last at all at all”
She winked too and led me into the house for the “fullness of the gist therein”, lol.
A month later, Gloria and Ossy were married and I was the chief bride’s maid.

In my heart, as I stood behind her and my friends said I do to each other, I looked back at my own man in the aisle. It was going so well with Yomi, I couldn’t help but be happy for Glo and Ossy. Somewhere in my heart, a small voice told me this would be my last bride’s maid assignment. I said a silent amen.
And as if in answer to my prayer, at the wedding reception, rather than throw her bouquet, Glo walked up to me and handed it over to me. I was still trying to understand what all that was about when Yomi walked up to me, dropped on one knee and proposed. I nearly fainted in delight. No words came to my mouth. I could only nod my answer, so vigorously my head almost dropped off.
I thought my search was over at long last...

EPISODE 10

...Its been three months now that I’ve been dating Yomi, two months since he proposed so dramatically and all my dreams about marriage were about to come true. I’m now on one tabloid or the other, from City People to Encomium to Saturday Punch. I’m on Linda Ikeji’s blog and Bellanaija. And when they put pictures of me up, I’m not referred to as Tiwa Savage and “guest” in the pictures I appear. Now they know my name. A picture containing Toke and I was tagged as Oyin Clegg and Friend. Toke was mad en, but my profile was hyped plenty (just kidding o). And for all those who were wondering about Yomi’s prowess in bed, let me just tell you that in spite of my (vast) experience, I was surprised that I always seemed to have one thing or the other to learn each time we were in bed.

When Yomi’s people came for the formal introduction, my mother did it like it was the actual engagement. Aso Ebi, souvenirs, photo book and co. She pulled all the stops, and she had every reason to. When they said she should pray, mumsy nearly embarrassed me with all the song and prayer drama. That my mama, she can be a drama queen. Not one to delay, and as money was not a constraint and we both are not kids, we set wedding date for a month later, about a week after his birthday. We intended to start the wedding celebrations with his birthday party and end it with a one of a kind reception bash. As my mama put it, aiye a gbo, orun a mo (translated – the world will hear and the heavens will know).
My greatest fear had been whether Yomi’s family would accept me. Would they like me? I was doing very well on my own, but all these pedigree families always want their sons to marry from their world, especially when he was an only son. And sisters can be so totally mean to whichever girl comes into the life of their only brother.
All my fears were unfounded. They all seemed glad and relieved that Yomi was finally about to settle down, and that he was not going to marry any of his Jamaican, Puerto Rican, French or Italian babes. I felt lucky and blessed. I reminisced on the many disappointments­ on my journey here. The many reasons I hadn’t gotten married – one I had loved that couldn’t perform in bed. One that thought his wife was meant to be the indentured servant of his lordship. One that wanted me to marry only dreams and talk of great futures. And plenty other orisirisi.

I shall not bore you with the plenty activities that went into the weeks preceding the wedding week. Suffice to say I almost became a bridezilla, armed with my copy of Funke Buknor-Obruthe’­­s book. By the day of Yomi’s birthday party, I was exhausted, and had been ordered by Yomi to hands off the wedding preparations or there’d be no me left for him to marry.
The birthday party was a blast. We held it at Yomi’s house on Gerard Road in Ikoyi. The house was one of those colonial houses that had a vast compound, a driveway with trees that touched way up in the middle, shielding the sun away and a huge pool. When you live in those kinds of houses in Ikoyi, you had to be old Lagos money, very old money. And this would be my new home soon. I was already trying my hands on marshaling the staff that oversaw the property, no mean feat. By evening when the party began, I was already tired from all the organizing.

See, rich people know how to party. Rich people’s kids are on another level of knowing how to party, maybe because they are not the ones that made the money they spend on the parties. It was at this party that I first met Yomi’s best man. While Yomi was all stability and fun, Adamu was excitement and daredevil adrenaline personified. He wasn’t your typical northerner, his accent was not there at all, and he had those fine Fulani features that money and breeding accentuated further. Where Yomi was dark chocolate, he was yummy butter. And like all of Yomi’s friends I had met, he was into everything that spun money and was mega rich. I quickly steered him towards Toke and all my match making juices began to flow.
Once the party was in full swing, and I had shaken my bum bum to the admiration of Yomi and company and to the contentment of my heart, I decided to retire and sleep. I was too tired after all the work that had gone into putting it together. And I guessed that at some point, he would want to party alone with his boys without having his soon to be wife looking over his shoulder. It was already like 12midnight and the early effects of alcohol had begun to make people more excited. I did a quick check on Toke and she was already doing a good job with Adamu on her own. My good work for the night was done. I wasn’t doing badly as the soon to be chief hostess of the Kester-Jacob's family.

I woke up around 4am and checked my side to see if Yomi had joined me in bed. His side of the bed was empty, but the noise of the party had stopped so I knew the party was over. I checked my bb and saw a couple of messages. The only ones I bothered to read before I got up were Toke’s messages. Adamu had dropped her off at home at about 2am and things were looking promising with him. I tumbled out of bed and began to pick things up all over the house, sort of sleep walking through the house, hoping to see Yomi sleeping on some couch or bed in one of the many rooms. I couldn’t find him after about twenty minutes of wondering around the big house. I’m not one to panic but I have a sixth sense, and this morning, it was telling me to find my man.
The house was a mess. I strayed into the kitchen. The plump cook, Clara was already up, cleaning after the party. “Madam, good morning o”, she greeted. “Clara, how are you. Have you seen your oga?”
“Oga follow Oga Adamu commot”, she answered.
Relieved that he had not run off with some random girl, I went back into the main house. That also meant Toke didn’t do badly, Adamu left her so he could have some boy catching up time with Yomi. I made a mental note to let Toke know this.
I wandered around the house for a bit. And if it hadn’t been so quiet that early in the morning (and I hadn’t been so idle) I wouldn’t have heard it. But faint as it was, I heard sounds coming from the direction of Yomi’s home office. I picked up pace as I moved towards the office.
As I got closer to the office, the sounds got louder, even though they were still somewhat muffled. My heartbeat quickened as I approached the door and the blood began to pound in my ears. My imagination ran a marathon in the short distance I covered to reach it.
I opened the door, slightly at first, and the muffled sounds became clear. Yomi’s voice. And another. I angrily threw the door open, imagining the evil things I would do to the girl I was about to catch my man with.
I got the shocker of my life. Yomi was having sex with Adamu on the office table...

EPISODE 11

...I stood there, jaw dropped all the way to the ground. Even with all the racing of my imagination, this scenario had not occurred once. I had imagined rushing into the room and throwing a huge tantrum and even throwing the girl out in her underwear. I had imagined pulling her hair. Scratching her face. Slapping her silly. I had imagined doing many other things to her. But this was not a her. It was a he, the he I had been trying to hook my best friend with just a few hours ago. For about five more minutes, they didn’t notice anyone had come in, lost in their perverted bliss. Then he opened his eyes and saw me. I expected to see fear, to see alarm that he had been discovered, but instead I saw a calm that sent a chill down my spine.

He calmly disentangled himself from Adamu and stood before me. I still couldn’t utter a word. Still naked, he sat in his office chair. Adamu could not be bothered by my presence. He just lay there, a content and satisfied look on his face.
“So you have found out my little secret a little earlier than I intended. You were supposed to discover this after we were through with the wedding, but since you have found out now, I might as well lay all the cards on the table”. He spoke like we were in his office for a business meeting, not like I had two naked men in there. I screamed “Yomi! Little secret? How could you do this to me? How?” I broke down crying loudly as I crumpled to the ground. My legs simply gave way beneath me.

“You need to stop the hysterics and listen to me with the rational part of your mind and then carefully consider what I’m about to say before you make a decision.” My crying pattered down to sobs and I looked to him to hear what he was gonna say. My angel of light had just transformed into the darkest demon from the pit of hell. And he was so calm.
“I’m gay, bisexual or homo, worreva you want to call it, as you have discovered. I discovered my sexuality since secondary school but knowing my family, I’ve kept it hidden from most people. But my family has become suspicious of this fact. And considering this society and the kind of fortune I stand to lose if I have any issues in my relationship with my family, I had to come up with a plan. My plan was to find someone who was eager to marry, and bring her home to my family. My chance overhearing of your conversation with your friend at the airport told me I’d found the right candidate. I have not been wrong so far. Once we are married, all suspicions about my sexual orientation would be ruled out, especially if we have a child quickly. Are you with me?”

I kept quiet, and he took that as a sign that he should continue.
“I still want us to get married, in spite of your discovery. The deal is this – I give you the marriage that you’ve always wanted, so you can leave the spinster’s club, and get a new surname and the respect that you crave at being addressed as a married woman. And of course, to get your mum off your back. You give me legitimacy and face saving with my family, and critically, continued access to the family wealth. The marriage will be very open, you can date whoever you want to, and I’ll carry on my own affairs but we’ll both need to be discreet and project the image of a happy couple to the public and our families. You’ll of course have your own share of the wealth, to use as you please. You’d really not have to work again. And you could live on any continent, in any kind of housing you like, away from prying eyes in Naija. You can date anyone you like. You don’t even have to see me except for important family functions. You’ll have what you always wanted, a husband and a new surname, plus very plenty freebies, and I’ll have what I need. That is the deal.”

I sat on the floor dumbfounded by what he was saying. How could this guy just sit there and spew such arrant nonsense. Adamu got up from the table and went over me like I wasn’t there to get a drink.
Yomi continued “I don’t expect you to make a decision immediately. But you do have to come back to me within three days so I can know if the wedding is happening or not.”
He stood up and left the room with Adamu.
For minutes, I just sobbed quietly on the floor, you know, those quiet kinds of sobs that draw from the deepest depths of the heart. My picture perfect relationship had been shattered with exactly one week to my wedding.
The rational thinking part of me screamed that I should call it all off. Call the relationship off. Call the wedding off. Cut every contact with Yomi and his ilk. I really felt like slitting my wrists and just letting it all out. But a more basal part of me spoke into my mind, telling me it was not such a bad deal, that I’d be getting all I could get and that many girls would pounce on such a deal. I tried to drown these thoughts with my sobs, but they kept tearing back to the surface on my mind.

I am confused and ashamed that I’m confused about this choice. If I was ten years younger, I would walk away without looking back. But I’m approaching 36, with a very public relationship and all. Yomi is evil, I could see that now. He knew this would happen, and that I would feel trapped.
I sped dialed Toke. “Please come and pick me at Yomi’s house”. She tried to ask me what the issue was but I had cut the call.
In the wildest of my imaginations, I never imagined I would be at this kind of crossroads. It’s day 2 of Yomi’s ultimatum for a feedback and I am utterly confused. First I do not talk to either Gloria or Ossy any longer. Ossy was very mean to me. From the day he met me at the airport, he had known all about Yomi. Yomi had been his senior in secondary school. So he knew. That’s why he smiled that smile when I told him Yomi hadn’t touched me. That was why he spoke so sarcastically. Jealousy had blinded him so much that he didn’t bother to rescue his friend from this dilemma. A word from him would have alerted me to the danger I was in and saved me all this trouble.
But in my moments of reflection, I knew even if he had spoken out then, I would not have taken him seriously. I would have interpreted it as the angry ranting of a scorned man.
Now I was torn between calling of my well publicized and much anticipated wedding at my age or going into a life that I knew I couldn’t be happy living.

If I took the first option, I would be the ridicule of the town, tagged as a woman who cannot just settle down. People would assume that the man had discovered something that all the other men before him had discovered that made them call the wedding off. People would assume he was being a gentleman by not revealing what he had discovered. In our culture, for such things, it’s the woman that would be blamed, be scorned and be ridiculed. I would be cannon fodder for soft sells and bloggers.
If I took the second option, that would not be the life of bliss with my husband I had always dreamt about. I would be comfortable and free, yes, but at a huge cost. And something in my heart told me that as such things go, at some point in future, it would come to light and then I would be publicly disgraced as a money hungry woman who didn’t mind marrying someone who was gay to help him cover it up for financial gain.
The conversation with my mum went something like this
“En, kini oju o ri ri? (What’s new under the sun?). At least he isn’t a wife beater or ritualist or armed robber. You better do now and marry, and don’t bring shame to this family’s name”.
Toke says I should not be stupid and throw away what I had found on a small issue like that. She was of the opinion that the deal I was being served was what many girls would kill to have. “You have a husband; can date anyone you want and truckloads of money, plus a hold on your husband to request anything and he would not be able to refuse. Don’t be foolish my dear”. But when I told her Adamu might be interested in having the same arrangement with her, she began to stammer. That told me what she really thought of the arrangement. It was good for me but not for her.

Hot Pastor expressly told me in firm terms that I shouldn’t go ahead in spite of the pressure. He sermonized and all, but also made plenty sense. What if someone better was just around the corner and Yomi was the devil’s temptation to shortchange me from getting that?
Everywhere I went, everyone was greeting me and congratulating me on the soon to come wedding. My new name in their mouths was Iyawo, the bride and so on. Each time they called me so, I cringed. I decided to go away from everyone to think. There just seemed to be too much interference from all of them...
~To be continued.

What's your view about Oyin's predicament?

EPISODE 12

...The next day, I switched off all my phones and left home. My mum had called me at least 20times that morning to keep reminding me that I should not throw away this opportunity to settle down. I checked into a room in Penisula Resort, Ajah, away from everybody to think. I knew I had but a few hours to make the call to Yomi. I needed to be sure I said the right thing when I made it. I’ve seen all your comments and (strong) opinions. But trust me, when you are in the shoes, you’ll find it’s not that easy to do any of these things.
As I lay there, I began to imagine what he would be doing now. Probably curled up somewhere with Adamu, somewhere I should be. Lord! This was going to be all what my life would be if I married Yomi. Well, two can play the game. I decided to practice what my life would look like if I went ahead with the marriage.

I turned my private number on and dialed Kalu’s number from memory. The moment I turned it on, three text messages from mumsy came in. That woman can like to leave me alone now! After the second try, Kalu’s phone rang. The cow was so full of himself, the caller tune was one of those you recorded by yourself. Here’s what it went like “Welcome to Kalu’s Phone. Hang on to speak with the hottest and flyest of them all.” Arrrrrgh! I almost hung up, this guy was so childish at 38. Men, I thought I was through with the likes of him. Anyways, he picked up and spoke with a hint of surprise and amusement.

Kalu: The Lagos big girl calls lowly us. To remind us to attend her wedding abi?
Me: it’s because of this your goatiness that I could never be serious with you. Where are you sha?
Kalu: Where you left me noni. You? (He hadn’t lost his touch. He was already coding what I wanted)
Me: Somewhere in Ajah, personal getaway before the wedding. All alone (this felt real silly)
Kalu: Really? Call the boo to come around now (Kalu can like to make everything hard. If I could call the boo, shay I will be calling him abi?)
Me: You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding. So boo stays put. You won’t come and say hi to your friend before she finally becomes a Mrs. abi?
Kalu: Ping me the details, I’m coming.
I ended the call. It’s funny how you can say a lot, without actually saying the specifics. I had just booty-called (yes men get booty-called) Kalu without any mention of it. But unlike the old days when I would phone select with no qualms, there was a knot in my tummy. This just didn’t feel right. And this was what I was meant to do for the rest of my life. I do something silly that I should confess here. If you tell me now two people are dating, I unconsciously imagine them together in bed. If the picture in my head gels, then I immediately support the relationship. If e no gel, well, I believe the relationship will likewise not gel. Hence I can never do an aristo. The picture won’t just gel.

I closed my eyes to imagine being with Kalu… bad picture. I turned my phone off again. Kalu wasn’t getting any pings from me.
I began to wander sort of aimlessly around the grounds. If someone was watching me, I probably looked like I was looking for some suicide spot. Eventually, I got to a stone bench beside a beautiful stone arch running over a small spring of water and I sat on it, eyes closed, lost in thought as I watched the water run over those smooth white pebbles at the bottom of the pool.
Reminiscent of when we met for the first time on the plane, it was the voice that drew me out of my reverie. I opened my eyes and sure enough, Yomi was seated on the stone bench right beside me. How he had found me, I couldn’t phantom. God, I loved him. Even knowing what I knew, with him seating just a few inches from me, I wanted to do nothing more than reach out and hold him in my arms.
This heart en, I will never understand how it works. My head was saying all the right things to make me loathe him, that he deceived me, that he could never love me cos I was a woman, that I could never be happy with him and that I should hate him with all my being. My mind even brought up the repulsive picture of him and Adamu replayed like some picture by MopeBob, vivid and clear. But in spite of all my head was saying, my heart was steadfastly, stupidly refusing to listen. The moment I saw him, I melted like butter, sigh! (I see you rolling your eyes now, just don’t let it fall out).

“Yomi, how did you find me?”
“You always come here to run away. It didn’t take long to figure out where you were when you were unreachable and not at home.”
I had totally forgotten that Yomi and I used this place for getaways. All he needed to do was make a phone call and he woulda found me. But I didn’t think he would be looking for me.
“So why did you find me? I thought I was going to call you later”.
He placed a hand on mine and looked me in the eye. My heart did a flip (this my gymnast of a heart en).
“Oyin, we both know that whatever decision you are going to make is already made. So rather than wait for a call, I came to get it first hand from you now”.
My palms became sweaty “Yomi, I, I, I,” I stammered.
He moved closer, “You haven’t made one yet? Then make one now”, he cut in.
What kind of tactic is this? I looked into his eyes squarely. I knew what I was going to do. I decided to marry Yomi...

good story but no suspense. try and create one.and sometimes your staging is bad I struggle to understand your characters please

lawflec: good story but no suspense. try and create one.and sometimes your staging is bad I struggle to understand your characters please

Would do just that mate...

EPISODE 13

...Yes, I decided to marry Yomi.
After all, people knowingly marry people who decided to be drug pushers, thieving politicians and all the kinds of thieves and bad men within that wide range of bad-man-ism, and even help them keep the secret. My reasoning (which I came to conclusion of without mumsy in my head) was that I’d just be marrying a man who had made a choice to be something and help him cover up. Omerta. Really no different ba?
Once the decision had been made, everything went into full swing hyper crazy extra super drive and you can guess who the driver of all that was. We had four grades of Aso Ebi, and the cheapest was twenty five thousand. This was the bigz people’s wedding, and you can go and dye your hair green if you couldn’t afford our aso ebi. The most expensive one was one mint green and burnt orange Swiss Voile lace like that. It cost five hundred thousand.
Since I knew what was up, I decided to spend Yomi’s money wella, with two hands, on this wedding. I changed my gown to a Mai Atafo gown, all chosen specially and hand fitted by the bobo himself. My coral bead choker alone for the engagement cost a million Naira. And he didn’t hesitate to spend. He pulled all the stops, signed the cheques and went to town. His mum commented that she had never seen him that happy, ever. Of course no one else knew why he was that happy, everyone thought I was the source of his joy. Toke was of course my chief bridesmaid and Adamu was playing that role for Yomi. I tend to imagine him in my head as a bridesmaid and not the bestman. And I noticed Toke kept him at an arm’s length after what she knew. I chose not to be bothered.

The engagement was a blast. I remember the cows. They turned into a mini tourist attraction, so big that people were taking pictures with the cows and using them as DPs all over. They spawned all sorts of funny broadcasts; you know the kind that goes on for months until they’re no longer funny. Every major blog had photographers at the event. My official photographer was the hottest new one in town, the rave of the moment, Ogheneworo Akara.
The alaga was Madam Kofo herself. She keyed into the mood the families were, the spending mode, and made herself tons of money, milking Yomi and friends wella. Imagine, at some point, she even said that I was coming in a plane and that they had to drop fuel money and they know plane fuel is costlier than car fuel. So they dropped plenty money. Then when I was halfway out, she said the fuel finished and the plane was crashing. They had to drop even more money to save it from crashing and refueling the “plane” midair.

I can give you all the juicy details but let me move forward, en. So the engagement was done and we went to our hotels. Everything was going smoothly with the event, and in a perfect world, I had just had the perfect engagement. But that night, I had to numb the fears I was having with generous doses of alcohol in order to sleep and go through with the next day.
Wedding day came and Toke woke me up as early as 5am. The entourage came into the room right after her and so began my roller coaster preparation to transform me from the mortal called Oyin to a goddess simply known as Bride. The whole operation took three hours of intensive work from the combined team of makeup lady, tailor and hair stylist. The small ringlets under my eyes from last night’s alcohol bout were gone.
As my uncle walked me down the aisle, I decided to immerse myself in the wedding, enjoy the moment and not think of the marriage after (I believe a good number of women do this). Wedding was going smoothly and my heart was at its gymnastic best, I was really going through with it. I was going to be Mrs. Oyin Kester-Jacobs.

The preacher asked the customary “Is there anyone here who has any reason why this couple may not be joined together? Speak now or forever hold your peace”, in a jocular manner. He was about to move to the next bit when a strong voice came from the back of the church auditorium “I do. These two should not be joined”. A hush ran over the congregation and all eyes turned in the direction from which the voice had come. Yomi spun around, a crazed look on his face as he saw who it was. I didn’t need to turn. I knew that voice as well as if I had looked at his face. It was a voice I knew too well. It was Ossy.
Haltingly, the pastor asked him what his reasons were.
“I will not allow my friend to go into this sham.” As he spoke, Yomi’s security details began to move towards him. But he was prepared. As they got to him, and were shutting him up, Gloria stood up as if they had rehearsed the scene and picked up where her husband stopped “Yomi is gay, and the marriage is just arrangy, a sham. I will not stand by and let Oyin make this mistake”. Everyone turned and stared at us, as if waiting for Yomi to say how silly all this was so the wedding could continue. It was like live Jerry Springer show.

I got the shock of my life. Yomi spoke up angrily, facing his mum as if all his anger was directed at her “and what if I’m gay? I’m tired of living trapped in the closet. I am gay and from today on, I will be proud of it and live in the open. I’m tired of all this.” People just sat where they were, as if transfixed. Then he said scornfully, “you can all go home now, there’ll be no Mrs. Kester-Jacobs today”. It was then I turned around and screamed...

EPISODE 14

...The tabloids were merciless. For weeks after the botched wedding, there was one story or the other about me, Gloria, Ossy and Yomi in every print and online tabloid and blog possible. Comedians used us as skits for their event promos. It was real bad. And trust Nollywood, within two weeks of the event, there was a movie out, complete with a poster of a reenactment of my scream on my knees at the church. They titled it “Love Scream”. Someone needs to do something about Nollywood. Really.

I had to pretend to the world I had known absolutely nothing about Yomi’s sexuality. That was the only way I salvaged my respectability.­ In fact, some people actually came to console me and tell me sorry. See en, when people are going through stuff, just leave them alone sometimes. Sorry my Yoruba ass.
Yomi left the country and no one could reach him. Not that I tried, but his family kept asking if I had heard from him or could reach him. They were genuinely afraid and were indeed nice people. They didn’t know I knew about him, so they kept trying to be good to me, trying to compensate me for the way their son had deceived me. I played along. Better that way than the other way I guess.

Gloria and Ossy have been asking for forgiveness. Again it’s that heart thing. They keep saying they were trying to make up for their previous mistake, trying to make sure they didn’t keep silent again while I walked into a trap. I could see their intentions were genuine and all, but couldn’t they have chosen a less disastrous way to “save” me? Gloria is a woman like me, and has been one of my closest friends for years. Even if Ossy didn’t understand how disastrous their actions would be to a fellow woman, how could Gloria not understand? So my head keeps telling me to forgive them, but my heart bluntly refuses to do anything of that nature (influenced by the fact that they are happily married and I’m still carrying my father’s surname plus Glo is preggy for Ossy now). Abi if you were in my shoes, would you?

Since I had taken a long leave for the wedding, I didn’t have to go to work immediately and so had time to just be by myself in my house. Thankfully, I didn’t resign at Yomi’s prompting based on his promise of endless money. I would have felt worse if I didn’t have my job to look forward to going back to. Toke was my friend through the time and she made sure amongst other things that I was eating, didn’t strangle or drug myself to death, burn down my house or call assassins to go after Glo and Ossy. The funny thing is, now that this Yomi wedding brouhaha was over, I felt more at peace than I’d been in a long time. In retrospect, I would really have been miserable in that marriage. Truth is, I’m still a romantic at heart, and could never really be happy in those circumstances.

I went through the whole “I’m so done with men” cycle, to the “I’ll just have a kid for some random man” phase and then back to the “when will my own come” phase. By the time I was at this phase, Toke and my mum were satisfied that I wasn’t suicidal and would get over the disappointment and still marry. Prior to that, I had been closely monitored and kept away from sharp objects and medicine bottles.
One of the ways I deal with disappointment is to get something new as if to tell myself I deserve good stuff even if life was trying to say otherwise. I acquired a tear rubber 2012 Honda CRV in this period. Big girl, big toy, I can’t shout. (and if you don’t think a CRV is big enough, snap and send your car pix #yimu)
My leave and the commensurate insulation from the world soon ended and resumption day at work came. I had dreaded this moment for so long and had rehearsed it in my mind severally until I had each detail planned out. Determined to look every inch unfazed, I poured all my energies into looking good. And dayum, I looked good. I did not fail to notice that a few heads turned when I parked my sleek toy and stepped out. I made up my mind to enjoy life everyday and not kill myself about marrying, quoting Sefi Attah’s book title, Everything good will come.

So I was pleasantly surprised when I got back from lunch that day and met a bouquet of flowers with a note on my table. Here’s what it said

“You’re a masterpiece, the epitome of beauty”.

I appreciated the gesture (yes, everyone likes to feel like the epitome of beauty even if you know it’s a wash), but really didn’t take it seriously. Over dramatics of any kind were not in my agenda at the moment. I didn’t even bother to mention it to Toke when she came around. It was that insignificant to me. We watched old episodes of Ally Macbeal and she crashed at mine.

Next day, I unconsciously expected to see flowers and co on my table when I got back from lunch. Nothing! Looooooong hiss, see me already anticipating. It was on the second day I inquired about Ossy, as I hadn’t seen him since resumption. I was told he had left the company for banking. Whatever, it was better not to have to deal with him. The moment I entered the car park, I notice a bright red gift bag on top of my car. I was already internally abusing the person that used my new car as a table when I saw it had my name on it. Forgetting that Boko Haram is threatening everyone, I quickly looked into the bag. In it were the loveliest pair of silver Louboutin shoes I’ve ever seen. This person must know I love shoes. Kai! When I brought the shoes out of the bag, a note fell out of them. It had another message on it

“You are my centerpiece, I’ll build my world around you”.

This guy knows Oyin is a poet o, what kind of attack is this now? It’s as if the guy had taken time to study me and was hitting at my weak spots. I didn’t want to open up to anyone so soon after my last saga, the tabloids and blogs would have a field day. Plus I’m not a fan of stealth tactics. If you like me, oju l’oro wa.
These days, I can’t wait to go home after work, so I headed straight home. When I got home, I quickly took pictures and sent to Toke, giving her the meat of the gist. Trust the nonsense girl, she came up with all manner of conspiracy theories. I really think she should begin to write for some TV series, cos the girl’s imagination is on fertility drugs. She can know how to think up scenarios that all you will say is Tokeeeeeeeeeeee­e! In the end, we had a good laugh and agreed I shouldn’t take the fellow seriously until he showed his face.
Next day, nothing at lunch, nothing at my car when I was leaving. I thought this guy had run out of ideas. Then I got to my gate and guess what I saw… a mannequin fully dressed, from sunshades to scarf to belt and even shoes beside it. Omo, this person knew my house. That was beginning to sound like a stalker, but do we have those in Naija? Or was it Yomi playing games ni? I quickly took pictures (making sure my gate and house number showed) and sent it to Toke. Seemed she was busy, no response, cos normal her would have called for the gist if she had seen the pix. This person was doing things that would definitely get my attention in a way that would trip me. I wanted to find out which one line poetry he had written this time and I moved the mannequin in and frisked it. Nothing. I couldn’t believe how disappointed I was. Why prince charming fall my hand now? mtchew. I decided to UnCloth the mannequin and keep the clothes in the car for the drycleaner, while the mannequin stayed outside (I’m definitely not wearing them, would give them to charity. Love juju tinz). The note was handwritten across its chest –

“my cornerpiece, you bring it all together”.

Thursday, and I was up bright and early. My BB was blinking and Toke must have pinged me like hundred times for the gist. I filled her in on my drive to work. We both agreed our guy who we shall label Mr. Poet was getting more interesting. I spent a bit of the workday wondering what he would come up with today. He didn’t disappoint. When I got back from lunch, there was a gift card on my table for a pampering session at an exclusive Spa on Ligali Ayorinde. Accompanying it were two notes. One teased me about going straight home everyday and asked me to go to the spa for a change. The one I really wanted to see, the poem read

“My choicepiece, I chose you”.

Men, this guy was good. It wasn’t the gifts that got me, it’s the poetry. Together, they read like this

“You’re a masterpiece, the epitome of beauty

You’re my centerpiece, I’ll build my world around you

My cornerpiece, you bring it all together

My choicepiece, I chose you”

Kilode! I was more than curious to know who this mystery guy was..

EPISODE 15

...Let me tell you, if you haven’t taken time to go get yourself pampered at a spa, and you are making above fifty thousand monthly, you better indulge yourself. You can feel the stress ease out of you as those people handle you. And some of the spa attendants en, they can make you feel like you don’t live in this same Nigeria sha. They are so totally fine and near flawless. Haba! There are some men I saw there, coming to get massages, and in my inner mind, I knew they were there for the girls. Anyways, the owners of the business know this, hence the girls. It reminded me of those fine guys that served ice cream at Ice Cream Factory. You don’t need to wonder why all the island girls have suddenly made it their one stop shop and fashied Chocolate Royale.

To get up was war after the whole massage. Whenever you are getting something osho-free, even when you can afford it, it always feels sweeter. I managed to drive myself home, and had the most peaceful sleep I’d had since the whole wedding saga. Friday morning, I woke up and hit my left leg on the bed as I was getting down. Then I hit it on the bathroom door too. Now, forget tushness, there are some things you grow up with and no matter how educated you are, you still unconsciously remember them. My mama is a typical Yoruba woman, and she drummed it into our heads growing up that if you strike your left leg against something, it was a bad omen. She even had the one where she would ask a guy to meet her first as she was going out of the house on something important. She said meeting the opposite sex first was a good omen, and hence she made sure of that. And with all my UK masters and my Island big girl-ism, that was what came to my mind this morning. You can imagine.

I sha packed myself out of the house, thanking God it was Friday. Work went by and I was wondering what Mr. Poet would come up with today. I didn’t have to wait for long. An sms came into my phone around lunch hour.
“We should meet. Private dinner at the Palm View Manor off Ajose Adeogun. Let’s do 8pm. Ask after Chris”. Notice he said “ask after” not “ask for”. The guy can speak proper English. I smiled. I forwarded the text to Toke sharply and she agreed to be my “backup”, with the addition “Mr. Poet now has a name o”. At my age, I am not foolish. I don’t go and meet strange men in places they chose without having someone around the corner that can make sure I’m safe. I have watched too many C & I things to make such silly mistakes. So Toke was gonna be around and in touch, to avoid stories that touch. We can say serial killers are not in Naija yet, but there was a time when people also said Nigerians could never be suicide bombers.

Anyways, the day raced past after that, and then I waited for Toke to meet me up at work. Since I close at five, I had about two hours to burn before my date. We spent it imagining who this secret admirer could be. Toke said she had some other gist for me, but that would be after my date, since she said it was not so great gist. I made up my mind to just have fun and enjoy the moment, no serious anything. In no time, we headed out, with Toke driving behind me.

I found Palm View Manor easily. It’s one of those exclusive places in VI that the people who are old money meet to talk about how all the brash new money people are invading their moneyed space and how to create newer exclusive circles available only to old money. Toke stayed at one café on the road; there are many of those in that area. Seems like a nice business to do on the island, I should begin to consider opening one.
Seven on the dot, I drove into the compound and walked to the reception. A small Asian lady was behind the counter and I smiled sweetly and asked after Chris. She returned a smile just as sweet as mine and said in the gesture-full way Asians do “Chris is already waiting; you’ll be shown to the table right away”. Another guy came out of the staff only door behind her to lead me to Chris. I liked the treatment and all. I so couldn’t wait to see this mystery man. Second by second updates were flying to Toke via BBM. Thankfully the network wasn’t falling my hand and she was getting my messages realtime.

We went through a beautiful corridor, with old pictures of Lagos Island when things were sane and orderly hanging on the walls. We turned a corner and came into a very well furnished restaurant. They seemed to have a thing for red velvet and combined with the lighting, it had a cool comfortable look. I was ushered into a secluded seat in a corner, with candles and all set up on the table. Chris wasn’t there. Very quietly, my guide disappeared and I was alone. I discreetly took a picture of the table and sent to Toke. I was engrossed in my chat with her but all of a sudden, I felt there was someone else with me. I braced up to meet him for the first time. A very pretty, I’ll repeat, extremely pretty lady smiled down at me. I assumed she was looking for someone and smiled at her too, waiting for her to ask me a question. She said with a tilt of her head, “Oyin Clegg?” I was surprised but answered that I was the one. She stretched her hand towards me and said “Chris”.

I was confused. How could my admirer be a woman! Lord have mercy. I sat trance-like while she took a seat opposite me. “You look very puzzled”, she continued. “With your last experience, I can imagine you think I’m a lesbian. Don’t be afraid, I just pulled strings for a friend who couldn’t secure this place himself. I had to be around to ensure that he would gain access, this place is very exclusive. I’ll leave you now.” She stood up, gave me a look over and then nodded slowly “I see what he sees in you”. She then went towards the door. My hand flew to my bbm and I sent an update to Toke. I was engrossed in sending the message I didn’t notice that someone had walked up to me. When I looked up, I almost let out a scream. It was Ossy...

Stay tuned!

EPISODE 16

...Ossy took a seat opposite me as a waiter followed him closely with an exquisite bottle of white wine, the type that I liked. “Is this a joke or something? Or are you on a date with Gloria here?” I asked, confused. Someone had been sending me romantic notes and gifts for the past few days and Ossy turned up on my date. “Please listen”, he responded trying to calm me down, because I was raising my voice already. For some reason I still cannot understand, I gave him the benefit of doubt and sat back calmly to hear whatever explanation he had for this.

“Look, I’m going to cut to the chase Oyin. The truth is that my feelings for you have not changed one bit from the first day I set my eyes on you. I could never love another woman the way I love you, my mind is fixed on you. And don’t think I haven’t tried to love my wife. I truly have, with all of my might. But my heart refuses to agree with what my head knows is the right thing to do. I truly cannot live without you Oyin”.
“So that’s why you ruined my wedding and humiliated me in front of the whole world? Love! That’s why you let me go into a serious relationship with Yomi for 3months with all you knew without uttering one word. Love!! And you come here asking me to cheat on myself and my friend by having an affair with her husband? Love!!! So you have finished looking at me and you don’t think I can find a man of my own, so I should be content to share you with someone as a side-chick? Ossy you are a selfish man. Ossy you are a mad man. Ossy you are a wicked man! In fact an evil man!”

He stood up to come over to my side “Oyin try and understand. Please. Look at the lengths I have gone to, just to get your attention and get you here. I’m not saying…” he tried to hold my hand.
If you see the violence with which I pushed his hands away en, you will wonder where I got the strength from. “I do not care what you are trying to say, get your hands off my body! You just took advantage of the fact that you know me so well, to do the exact things I told you a long time ago were thoughts and daydreams I had, and that we had talked about that I would love. That’s not going to any length, that’s taking advantage of me!” I stood up and literarily climbed over him. “Don’t ever let me hear from you again. Do not call, text, drop a note again. Ever!” Then I cupped my boobs in front of his eyes and shouted as I gave him dagger eyes “These can never be for you, even if no other man wants them! Oloriburuku, (literarily ‘your head is not correct’). God will punish you a thousand times.”

He just sat there calmly, as if on the verge of tears. I really couldn’t care. I stormed out of the restaurant, barging into every table and chair on my way enroute the door. I am finding hubby now, not finding friend’s hubby. Kilode!
I blocked out everything I was passing. At the door, I turned round to look at him. He still sat there, as if he didn’t believe I was going to leave him there like that. It angered me that he had been so sure I would fall for it and agree to his plans. Imagine, the clown wanted to be doing Glo at home and have me Oyin Clegg as a side-chick outside. Wonders will never end. God forbid!

I went to my car and when the security guy that helped me out of the car park kept hailing me, I shouted on him seriously. The guy couldn’t understand how the nice madam that came in bright and smiling didn’t want to make “the boys” happy. I drove to the café where Toke was sipping on a mix of Smirnoff Ice and Malt (you should try this, it is really noice). I caught her by surprise, she almost spilled her drink. “Wetin happen? Why you out so quickly now? Thought you were having such a great time you forgot to give your poor friend updates any longer” she asked, with raised eyebrows. She got serious when she saw I wasn’t smiling at her jibe “What’s the issue, what happened”, she queried, sitting up. I took her drink and gulped it down first, “Order another one for yourself, I’m not returning this one.” She signaled the waiter and I relished the drink while she ordered for another.

“What was wrong with our man now? Is that how high his level of wowo-ness is ni? Abi he called you HOyin too ni? Abi its Femi trying to apologize? (told you guys Toke’s imagination is very fertile ground abi? As in Femi? SMH)”. I rolled my eyes for effect to show her she was imagining wayyyy off again. “Oya, stop being silly and leave all this suspense now”, she said, rolling her eyes in return.
I heaved a deep sigh and said “well, Mr. Poet turned out to be none other than our dear friend-in-law Ossy!” Toke actually fell out of her chair in shock. “What! Jesus, Joseph and Mary! The nerve! Is he mad ni? I’m all ears, fill me in”. I quickly gave her a rundown of the events inside the restaurant. She got very concerned at the obsession with which Ossy had come after me and how calm he was about my rejection. We decided she would stay with me for a bit to avoid any obsessed person to hurt me because of rejection. I watched some movie called Obsession which featured Beyonce a while ago. Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman can also read the earth hath no fury like a scorned man.

We each had two more of our mix and the Smirnoff (which has just as much alcohol as beer by the way) was starting to make us slightly light headed. In the midst of our chatter, I remembered that Toke told me there was something she wanted to tell me after my date. “En en, what was the gist you said I should wait till the end of my date. So the date is over now, I’m sure nothing can top my experience of this evening, so spill it”.
Toke shifted uncomfortably in her chair, as if trying to find the words to say what she wanted to. I knew that move very well. “Talk now, worris it now?” She gave it a thought briefly and then responded “I think I should let the person concerned tell you by herself.” She picked her phone and called someone “she’s here now, you can come. How long? Five minutes? Okay. We’re waiting. Yeah, the café I told you. Alright.”
I kept looking at Toke, trying to understand the drama she was acting but she refused to volunteer anything. So we waited. I just silently hoped that it was not another plan with Ossy. I would personally strangle Toke if it was. A couple of minutes later, her phone rang. She picked it up, got up as she answered and signaled that she needed to step outside. She was gone for about two minutes. I checked my TL on twitter to keep myself occupied, keeping an eye on the door.

When Toke returned, she was with another lady. I couldn’t make out who it was initially, it was getting dark, plus the lady was wearing a scarf and wore dark glasses. But then, you cannot be close friends with someone and miss them on a second glance. Toke was coming in with Gloria Onisokame.
As they approached, my mind raced to a thousand and one things she might want to tell me that made Toke even think of bringing us together. So they got to me and sat down. I shot Toke a “this had better have a serious explanation” look and she gave me a “calm down and all shall be revealed look”. The greatest reason why men cannot understand women is because they do not know how to understand this “communication by looks”. They used to understand perfectly when they were kids (when one look from your mum told you exactly what response to give to a question from some friend or relative) but it seems they lose this all important trouble avoiding ability as they grow up. Anyways, I digress.

Gloria didn’t say a word. She didn’t even say hi or anything like that. She just sat down directly opposite us (Toke was now by my side) and silently removed her scarf. And then she removed her glasses. And then I gasped. And then my mouth opened and refused to close. And then an anger welled up within me that made me bang my hands on the table and shout. Everyone in the café turned towards us but I couldn’t care less...

EPISODE 17

...Let me explain. Gloria is one of those light complexioned Ibo girls that cannot enter a place without being noticed. It’s one of the reasons we call her Glo (apart from the other obvious one ). If you hold her too much on one spot, the skin of that spot will become red, that’s how sensitive her skin is (in fact, on days she gets frisky with any guy, and she is with us after and undresses, the redness of her boobs gives her away). So when she took off the scarf and specs today, it revealed red blotches all over her face, two black eyes and deep red etches on her neck. Every vex inside me melted away right away and I was beside her as she broke down into tears.

“Did he do this to you?” I asked, voice shaking. She just continued crying, as Toke put her hands around her, sobbing along with her.

Nearly the whole café was looking our way now and so we decided to go to mine, away from the prying eyes. She rode with Toke, as they drove behind me. There was a bit of traffic at that blasted toll gate and it took us a whole forty five minutes to make a twenty minute journey. Alone in the car, the thought of what could have happened to Glo rose in my mind, but I desperately hoped it wasn’t what my rational head was telling me it was. We eventually got to my pad and just sat in the sitting room quietly for a few minutes, waiting for her to begin to talk.

She pulled herself together as I poured her a drink. Ossy had begun by isolating her from Toke and I, with the drama at the wedding. As if that wasn’t enough, he began to complain about everyone else. In the months they had been married, she had cut her family off and had been isolated from them. Then the late nights and all the signs of other women began. She had turned a blind eye initially, since he was being discreet. But it seemed that he got emboldened and stopped being discreet. When she confronted him, the beating began. Lightly beatings (whatever that means) at first and then it got progressively worse. At this point, the tears were flowing freely.

She began to narrate episode upon episode of how Ossy beat and battered her. He abused her verbally. He told her she was never his choice and that he just settled for her and would do as he pleased. Chasing small girls was what he referred to as doing as he pleased. He expected her to be at least happy that she was married and that he saved her from her spinsterhood. He had sha made her a Mrs. And whenever she said anything, he would beat her mercilessly. Nothing was spared in beating her. They lived in their own house, so no neighbor could hear him beat her. The only people that stayed with them were the house-help who was one of the “doing as he pleased” and the gateman who assumed that wife beating was a normal part of marriage. After the drama at my wedding, she couldn’t reach out to friends. Ossy had isolated her from her family and so she couldn’t go to them. She endured her pain alone.

“Ossy is not Ossy again since he cannot have you Oyin,” she continued. “He has turned into every woman’s nightmare. So while what I’m about to say might sound out of place, I’ll need you put yourself in my shoes. I am trying to save my marriage here, and it’s the only way I can think of.”

Now, I’m not normally a skeptical person, but whenever anyone wants to say anything, and dramatics are involved, plus warnings like “put yourself in my shoes”, and “it’s the only way”, I become very skeptical. Very. I sat up and encouraged her to continue, eager to hear what Glo was about to say. I noticed Toke too had sat up. Her body language meant we were both about to hear whatever Glo was going to say for the first time.

“I would like you to come back into Ossy’s life”.

My sharp head got what Glo was trying to say immediately, but I chose to disbelieve. Toke was the one that spoke up as the proverbial cat had my tongue. “Come back into Ossy’s life as what exactly?”
“Oyin, you seem to have been the reason Ossy’s demons were repressed and now you are gone and he’s become like this. He thinks about being with you night and day. Maybe if you just gave him a chance, maybe he would return to being the sweet Ossy we all knew.”

I growled “you are asking me to have an affair with your husband, put my life on hold, and be content with being a side-chick in order to make your marriage happy?” My voice was getting progressively louder, because the more I voiced the thoughts I knew she was having, the angrier I got “Can you listen to yourself? You would be content with a marriage to someone who would batter you like this, sleep with anyone he pleases, even your close friend, and still call that a marriage? That would be worse than what I planned to do with Yomi. Much worse.”

She became hysterical, shedding tears seriously. “Oyin”, she wailed, “please help me save my marriage. I ask you to do it for only a while, maybe one year, while I”…

I didn’t let her finish, I flew into a rage and Toke had to restrain me “You are very selfish Gloria. I should give you one full year of my life to do this nonsense you are proposing. It’s not your fault, shebi it’s because I’m not married! Would you come and say this nonsense to me in my husband’s house? You know what? Just leave my house! Yes get the hell out of my house.”

Toke tried to calm me down but I turned my rage on her. “Why did you bring her here” (lie, cos we both decided to bring her o, but I had to blame her) “Just take her away before I do something I will regret!”
I stormed into the kitchen and fetched a bottle of wine from the fridge. It seems Toke thought I wanted to use the bottle for other purposes than to take wine from it, because on seeing me turn around, bottle in hand, she dragged a weeping Gloria out of the door.

When they were gone, I looked at the time. It was nine thirty pm already. As if to add to my horrible mood, NEPA decided to install a reign of darkness. I didn’t bother to go turn the gen on. Cradling my bottle of wine in my laps, I drank myself to sleep.

The shrill ring of the ringtone I had set for Toke woke me up the next day. My phone told me the time was eight o'clock. I had really slept plenty. I sluggishly picked the phone and answered the call. My head was still all groggy.

“Hello”,

“Oyin!” Toke’s voice was frantic.

“Toke what is it?” Toke can be slightly dramatic, so I would not be surprised if she woke me up like this to tell me she had just found a great book.

“Gloria is in the hospital!”

I became instantly alert. “What? What happened? Were you guys in an accident?”

“Ossy was the only accident that happened, Oyin. I dropped Gloria off at home yesterday. I didn’t go in with her. Ossy was drunk and assumed a man dropped her off. He got more angered when she told him it was me that dropped her off. When she explained that it was you she had come to see, he went ballistic on her. I mean he beat her till he was spent. Then he locked her out of the house and went to bed with the house-help. She managed to call me. I rushed back and took her to the hospital.”

Surges of guilt rose in my heart. Mentally, I knew I wasn’t responsible, but all I could remember was throwing her out of house into Ossy’s clutches.

“That bastard! Which hospital are you?”

“I took her to Dr. Phillips”.

It took me just twenty minutes to get to Dr. Phillips small but well equipped clinic.

Toke met me at the reception as I rushed in. Dr. Phillips was a motherly doctor that we all had used for years and felt comfortable with because she was a woman old enough to be our mothers.

“Where is she? Where is she?” I asked Toke.

Toke placed a hand on my shoulders and silently willed me to listen to her. When she was sure she had my attention and I was calm, she hit me with the bombshell.

“Gloria has lost her baby”

I fell into the hard reception sit “Oh my God, Oh my God”...

Stay tuned...there's­ more

EPISODE 18

...The question that keeps running through my mind is this – which is better, the one that is married and is unhappy in the marriage or the one who is longing for marriage and hasn’t found hubby? That, people is the million dollar question. Internally, I thanked my stars. I could have been Mrs. Onisokame today, beaten, bruised and battered. All of this has made me rethink and redefine this my finding hubby quest. Why should I allow myself to be defined by my marital status, or Mrs. Who I am?

Toke tried to call Ossy’s phone with Gloria’s line but he kept cutting the call off. She tried with her own phone but got the same treatment. By the time we tried with mine, his phones were switched off. We sat there, as we waited for Dr. Phillips to come out of the emergency ward.

A little later, restless, Toke decided to ping Ossy impersonating Gloria. The BBM read
“Ossy, you have killed our baby, I’m in the hospital, and the doctor says I’ve had a miscarriage. And you aren’t taking my calls. What did I do to deserve this? Marrying you?”

The bbm didn’t get delivered to him immediately, as his phones were off. After what seemed like an eternity, the motherly figure of Dr. Philips came into the doorway and beckoned on us to come in to see Glo.
When I saw my friend, I burst into tears. She had a cut above her eye that had been patched up, the lacerations I had seen the day before had become fresh again, and her black eyes had become even blacker. All this, after the doctor had worked on her. I wondered what Toke would have seen when she picked Glo up initially. We all stayed silent for a while, grieving in our own different ways. The bubbly, lively and mischevious Gloria I knew was gone, on the bed lay someone else, a shadow of her old self. Just a few months ago, we were phone selecting, Mr. X-ing and all the likes. It seemed we had lost ourselves in the quest for hubby.

Toke broke the silence, saying what the circumstances would not permit me to say and which Glo’s nature would not bring her to say. “That marriage is over. I read on some blogs how a Nigerian guy stabbed his wife to death recently. We will not wait until you are dead and become bloggers’ fodder before this madness ends.”

Gloria’s BB beeped in Toke’s hand, and it seemed a welcome distraction from the tension soaked hospital room. That was until she read the message. “It’s the idiot,” she hissed. “What did he say?” I queried. Rather than answer, Toke handed the bb over to me.

“The idiot! The frigging idiot!” I exclaimed, raw anger seething through every pore in my body. Gloria tried to sit up, anxious to see what was on the bb. She winced in pain as she tried, so she lay back down. I wasn’t inclined to showing her exactly what he had said so I paraphrased for her.

“He said the baby can go to hell, and that you had better get back home to do your duties as a wife. He’s threatening to haunt you if you ever try to leave him.”

Gloria spoke quietly “He’s been threatening me every time he beat me. I would have left him earlier if I was not afraid. Ossy doesn’t handle rejection well at all. Ossy forced me to come to your wedding Oyin. You couldn’t see me that day, but I had been beaten. If you were close enough, you would have seen the marks.” She sobbed even more quietly, as her body shook.

“Gloria, as I said,” Toke continued, slamming her hand on the hospital bed railing, “the marriage is over. While it’s painful, thankfully, there are no kids involved just yet.” She continued “and as regards his threats, we will teach that foolish wife-basher a lesson he will never forget.”

Dr. Phillips came back in just as Toke was rounding off her (quite imaginative) plans on handling Ossy. We knew our time with Gloria was over. I screengrabbed the chat from Ossy and emailed it to myself. Those kinds of things should be documented. You never know, cos people will never believe an Ossy could say something like that about his own child. Or beat his wife like that. I asked Toke if she had taken pictures of Gloria the night before. My smart Toke had. She forwarded all of them to my email.

Gloria was able to leave Dr. Phillips’ clinic by Sunday afternoon and we brought her over to mine. I have missed my girls. Even though it was something like this that brought us together, that night was one of the best nights I had had in a long time. It brought back memories of a time that wasn’t too far away in the past, when we were just girls having fun.

So I know you are dying to know what we did to Ossy. First, Glo was to go back home as if she had accepted her fate and act the part of the submissive wife who was afraid of leaving or offending him, and do all she could to avoid provoking a beating. I was tempted to give Gloria the gist of Ossy stalking me and all the Mr. Poet Ossy series, but Toke and I agreed not to. She was hurt enough as it was and it would just rub the hurt in some more. Monday morning, bright and early at my desk, just as Gloria was supposed to be returning to the house (which she confirmed she did without any event) Ossy sends me an sms
“Take a risk with me”.

The bile in my throat rose but we had a plan and I had to act my part. I wished with all my heart I could ignore it, but I responded

“I’m in a meeting oga. Stop disturbing me and making my phone beep.”

He responded instantly (which part of making my phone beep did he not get, oniranu oshi) “So sorry”
“Stop beeping me! I will call you later” I responded.

I nearly slammed my phone on the floor when another text came in from him “Really? You will call?”

I ignored him.

Later in the day, I brought myself into the right frame of mind and called Ossy up.

Me: “Hey Ossy”

Ossy: Oyinnnnnnn. I’m so glad you called. You can’t begin to imagine how glad I am. How have you been? All I’ve done is yearn for you.”

I was so incensed that this guy who was pounding my friend black and blue could sound so excited talking to me. These animals are the ones that look nicest and most normal outside. I remembered the plan and swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat.

Me: You know you hit me real hard, but in my heart I know you meant right. And I’ve missed you ni jare. You know good friends are very hard to come by.

Ossy: I’m blushing here o. Me, good friend. Okay. We should hook up and catch up on many things now.
Notice he doesn’t bring up my friend who happens to be his wife. The cow is already falling for the bait.

Me: Yeah, that would be cool. How about Angels in Phase 1? You know the place abi? And you won’t need Chris to hook that up.

Ossy: Of course. Wasn’t it me that showed you the place before? Would have tried there for our last date, but didn’t want you to suspect it was me at all at that time. I showed you this town now.

Me: True talk. I had forgotten. Let’s do Friday evening, so we wouldn’t be in a hurry as we catch up.

Ossy: Alright dear. Would definitely make that a date.

Me: Aite dear (ewww). Talk to you later.

I hung up. I called Toke and reported the conversation immediately.

“Can you imagine that bastard? He didn’t even mention Glo once, all he was thinking was how he would get lucky on Friday. Kai, I so cannot wait to deal with him!”

“Well,” I responded “his oju kokoro (lustful eyes) has made him fall easily for our plans. It’s over to you now.”

“Okay, let me go and get dressed and hit the road,” Toke said as she rounded our call off. Ossy would not know what hit him. I extracted the pictures of Gloria’s battered face plus the screen munched image and got to work.

The days flew by and I kept a string of calls going on with Ossy to keep him encouraged about our rendezvous. I skillfully dropped subtle comments here and there to drive the thought into his head that I wanted to commence a secret affair with him. He swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Shebi it is what was already in his mind to do. All that was required was a little encouragement and he was game.

Friday came quickly (since we were so looking forward to it) and Toke left the base (that’s what we called my house for this operation, military feeling sturvz) to begin her arm of the operations. I had the whole beauty treatment I did on the week before courtesy Ossy to thank for the outstanding glow of my skin. And then I wore this gown! The neckline was plunging, revealing a good portion of my 36D in glorious Technicolor. The thing hugged my figure, and thanks to my flat tummy, the valley it created accentuated the mountain on my chest. Don’t let me describe what my hips down looked like, before some of our male friends… *cough cough*

I set out and sure enough, tall dark and handsome Ossy was waiting for me in all his lasciviousness.­ You know when some men look at you and you can see that they have undressed you totally in their heads.
Angels is one of those exclusive places inside Phase 1 where there was a drinks bar in front of the building, and large chalets further into the compound. These chalets were small bungalows that had all the trappings of a house and all the Island big boys and girls came to do all the things they wanted to keep secret. Ossy sure thought he had me.

The conversation was annoying but I smiled sweetly and laughed at all the jokes. He successfully twisted and tilted everything we said towards sex. I had never seen this part of Ossy before and couldn’t imagine what Gloria had been put through. Eventually, after I got a message from Toke, I sent him a BBM. It read “ask for Chalet 5. I’ll be waiting there. Make sure you’re naked before you come in. I’ll be waiting exactly same. You have exactly ten minutes to get to me after I leave otherwise deal is off”.

I waited for the BBM to be delivered and saw the red light indicator on his BB blinking and then leaned over to him seductively and whispered. “I’ll be waiting. Read your BBM when I’m gone”. Then I stood up and strutted my stuff before his lust-filled eyes and went to the chalet.

Then I sent a BBM to Toke “it’s all set.”

Ossy was not quiet as he approached the Chalet at all. I had left the door opened and a note on the door (lessons from my stalker, Ossy himself) instructing him to UnCloth as soon as he entered the door. There was a small hallway between the door and the parlor in the chalet where he could do that, and all the lights in the hallway were off and the door leading into the parlor was shut. As I heard him come in, I pinged him “I’m waiting… #bbkisssmiley#”­. Thankfully, the network behaved and the message was delivered instantly and he read it. I heard him hustle out of his clothes and then bumble towards the door.

As soon as Ossy opened the door, Toke turned on the lights in the parlor and all the people in the parlor shouted “Surprise!!!” Ossy stood stark naked, in front of the small crowd in the parlor, and instinctively, he tried to retreat back into the hallway. But one of my friends from The Marquee stood behind him to block his exit. A hush ran over the people in the parlor on the sight of naked Ossy. Toke and Gloria and gone to great lengths to gather all of his friends, his bosses and colleagues at work, his main customers, his friends from my company, his family, her family, everyone that mattered in Ossy’s life basically. The ruse had been that she was organizing a surprise party for her husband to celebrate his recent promotion at the bank. They had all come to celebrate with Ossy who was a clear star in the eyes of all of them. Now, to have him walk in naked sent murmurs, hushes and disbelieving exclamations throughout the gathering.

Gloria wasted no time. She quickly projected the images of her looking radiant and beautiful side by side with the images we had taken in apartment of her right after battery. The images was like this
Fine Gloria + Ossy = Beaten Up Gloria

“This is what this fine career gentle-pig does to his wife at home. Some of you might not believe, hence I will give you a live flesh and blood result of his work.”

Thanks to her skin, the marks of beatings on her face became clear the moment she removed her scarf and glasses. The crowd let out a shocked oooh. Ossy stood there, looking ashamed, unable to take his eyes away from the ground, his only exit from the room blocked by a no nonsense bouncer.

Next, Gloria beamed screen-grabbed images of BB conversations where Ossy had threatened her with violence if she ever left him onto the screen. The last screengrab she displayed was one in which she was talking about the baby they had lost to his last beating and his callous responses to her. “My husband killed our baby, and feels not the slightest remorse for it. The words are not manufactured. He is on the BBM of everyone in this room and I’m sure you all recognize the contact name and display picture.”

She produced papers already prepared by Toke. “These are our divorce papers. I have taken the liberty to sign it. And don’t be afraid, I don’t need anything from you so I’m not asking for any of your things. All I need is your signature, before these witnesses, before you leave here now. And know that if even one single hair on my head or any of my friends is hurt, everyone here will point their fingers at you, so you better pray that we’ll be okay.”

With that, Toke took the papers to Ossy, and gave him a pen to sign. He hesitated briefly and the bouncer behind him touched him on the shoulder to remind him that he wasn’t going anywhere until he signed. Trust Naija people, the guests just kept watching the film unfolding before them ni o, no intervention nothing. Ossy signed and Toke inspected all the places he was supposed to sign against the signature on the wedding documents that Gloria had provided. The signatures were genuine. She nodded to Gloria and then the bouncer allowed Ossy out of the door.

I then smiled sweetly and thanked all those who had come and told them there were refreshments if they still required any. All done, we, the three Lagos musketeer babes stepped out into the waiting car and drove to mine to celebrate.

We learnt later that Ossy left the country without trace, not leaving his destination with even his family. We hoped never to see wife battering face again. As we sipped on the Martini I had specially ordered to celebrate, Toke’s phone rang. I forgot to mention, but I have noticed that she’s been receiving calls from some guy recently. But I’m getting worried, because she would normally have told me about this new guy.

But for some reason, she was being secretive. She would try to be alone to receive his calls, and she had turned off chat history. We had just rescued Gloria from one bad man. I wasn’t about to allow Toke walk down the same path. I allowed her go and receive her call away from us as she had now made a habit. It was Gloria that voiced my thoughts “Why is Toke going to the room to talk? There’s no music playing and we are not outdoors. That’s very un-Toke-like.”

“I agree”, I said, “She’s been acting funny like this for a while. And while we are at making sure about things…” Toke entered while I was midsentence and our eyes met. She sensed what was about to happen and tried to start a new conversation to deflect talk from it. We were not having any of that. “Toke”, I began, “who’s calls have you been taking secretly?” “Secretly ke? I haven’t been taking any calls secretly now. abi which one is secretly again?” “So why did you have to leave quiet here to go take the call in the room?” She didn’t answer and Gloria chipped in “we cannot have you doing any shady things. Babe, you’re 35 and if a relationship is right, you shouldn’t be hiding it from us. You’re making us feel there’s something wrong with whoever you’ve been receiving calls from. And we want to hear it today, right now.”

With her attention on Gloria, I snatched her phone from her and checked her last received call. “Who is Lumi, babes?” “Olumide”, she responded. I raised my eyebrow and Gloria went to seat on the arm of her chair. “Well, we are listening...”

EPISODE 19

...We watched as Toke struggled with telling us who Olumide was and my fears about him instantly skyrocketed. I hoped Toke wasn’t pregnant for some married man. The most intelligent ladies do the silliest things at times, when you least expect it.

“I met Olumide about a month ago. Very nice guy.” She took her phone from me and retrieved a picture from her memory card and showed him to us. The guy in the picture was on the chubby side, but chubby in a good looking Cedric the Entertainer kinda way. He was wearing a grey suit that looked good on him, and he seemed to carry himself well even in the picture. “This is a correct looking guy now”, Gloria said. “Exactly,” I joined in. “So why the hide and seek?” “You guys should wait and let me give you the background now, before I get to that point. At least you will be more lenient when crucifying me if you hear it all.” We nodded
okay and she continued,

“I met him in company of another male friend, and I just enjoyed his wit and charm. He’s a lawyer, and he’s very intelligent. Very very. You know me, I’m a sucker for intelligent guys. And his imagination was just as active as mine. At some point, even my friend couldn’t keep up with us as we sparred with all sorts of puns. It was beautiful.”

I can imagine. Toke looked like she was having an orgasm just internally reliving the conversation. She always (I mean always) gauges a man by his ability to keep up with her, especially in conversation and talking in imagery. No attraction can happen if the guy cannot, and even if there was some initial attraction, if he cannot keep up, the attraction dies a natural death. She always said that if a guy cannot get jokes she cracks, he simply cannot get the rest of her. So I know the kind of heaven she must have been in when she met a guy who could keep up with her. It seemed he could do more than keep up with her. He challenged her. She rarely found such men.

She continued “we hooked up a couple of times, and he just has the most beautiful amazing mind ever. You will notice I’ve been happier and more motivated lately”. Very true, she’s had great energy level recently (as attested to by events of earlier in the day). I was beginning to get impatient because I knew she had not gotten to the gist of the matter. But I borrowed myself brain, make I no rush the girl. She was obviously having a hard time coming out straight with it, so I didn’t want to make it harder.

“He didn’t even need to formally ask me out. We just started dating, and I feel in my bones he is the one for me. I met his family and they are such wonderful people. He doesn’t make as much money as I do, but I don’t mind at all. He’s hardworking, makes his own money, and takes care of me in spite of not making up to me. Lord, I love him.” She held her head in both hands now.

Wow! The big love word. This was more serious than I thought. Toke was in love. For real. She was despairing seriously now, so I had to nudge her “All this sounds wonderful, but I’m sure there’s something you haven’t told us”.

She raised her head and looked me squarely through eyes that were red from tears she was struggling to hold back “He’s 27.”

I nearly fell off my chair. The words “cradle snatching” jumped out of my mouth before I could catch myself. Gloria repeated, “27!” She was a clean eight years older than him.

“Yes he is, but he’s so mature. First, I met him through a friend who is older than me and they talked as colleagues and friends. I didn’t realize that men are not like us; they can relate with someone way their junior as friends on the same level. So I assumed he was at least my age on that first meeting. And it was so perfect with him I didn’t think to ask. It wasn’t until I had to get his driver’s license about two weeks into the relationship that I discovered. Then I confronted him with the fact, and he told me he didn’t have any issues with it, that he loves me and wants to make me his wife. He has never dated any woman younger than him, so he’s used to it already. And in all honesty, if you remove the age ish, he is all I want in a man.”

“Toke,” I said, shaking my head to emphasize my disagreement “he’s not even as old as Dayo, and if I recall, Dayo isn’t your immediate younger brother. There’s still Salewa between you guys. It just doesn’t seem right. Too many things can go wrong. How would you handle if Salewa or Dayo was rude to him? They are older you know? And then add another ten years to your ages, he’s 37 and still youthful and you are 45 and nearing menopause. A lot of times, these young guys will leave you at that time when you need them the most and go for a girl that is young enough to be your daughter (yes, a 45 year old can sha give birth to a 25 year old). What will you do then?”

Toke’s eyes blazed as she shouted at me “I know! Do you think I haven’t thought of all that? I wish I could just turn myself off and let him go. But it’s not that easy!”

I quickly hugged her “Sorry dear, I’m real sorry”.

Somehow I felt like life was playing a cruel tease game with us. It brought me a man who was my all I ever dreamt about but he turned out to be gay. It delivered Gloria to a man who turned her into his punching bag and cruelly killed their child. And now it had sucker punched Toke by delivering her the man of her dreams, with this big comma over him. I’m beginning to wonder if everyone always has to make some sort of compromise to get married, because it seems that is going to be the case here. Really, I want your thoughts on this in today’s comments. Is it absolutely necessary?

Back to Toke’s issue. She was near tears now. “I tell myself I should be proud of my man, and he’s been asking to meet my friends for like two weeks now, but I’ve given one excuse or the other. He’s too sharp not to see my excuses for what they really are, but I guess he is humoring me. But I really don’t know how long his patience will last. I want to be proud of my man in every way, but I cannot truly tell myself that even I am not struggling with this right now. My fear is that I’ll do something because of these struggles that will sabotage the relationship, and then I’ll then say it’s because of the age difference that it crashed when in reality, it’s my actions that caused the crash.”

My impulse is to tell Toke to end it and count it as a loss, but knowing how choosy she is, and how long it has taken her to find this, and then the fact that the guy is seriously considering marrying her, I really do not know what to say.

I looked at her and said “Toke, this is what we will do…”

Stay tuned!

EPISODE 20

...We agreed with Toke that we would meet Lumi. Despite all our reservations about the cougar kinda relationship, we decided to support her. Immediately we did, Toke excitedly called him and put it on speaker. A deep rich baritone voice with a slight British accent came through

“Ololufemimydea­r, wotagwan”.

Toke:“Guess what”?

Lumi:“What o?”

Toke:“My friends have agreed to come on an all expense paid trip with me to see you. All expense paid by you of course”.

Lumi:“I can guess they are all listening, so I’ll let them know that I have to consult my board of directors on the profitability of this investment”

We all laughed and he cooed “Hi ladies”.

We all said in our most girly voices “Hiiiiii”.

“We’ll see tomorrow, at four pm. Please ensure your tour guide, Toke, gives you adequate tips on how to survive my very dry sense of humor”.

Then he addressed Toke

“Sweets, glad I’m finally getting to meet the world famous musketeers. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Love you plenty”

Toke:“Bye honey. See ya tomorrow”.

You need to have seen the way Toke was smiling from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat as she hung up the call.
Now it’s not like we were the ones going to our man, but we had to represent, we couldn’t fall our friend’s hand. So we spent most of the next morning picking out what to wear, wondering where we would all be going anyways.

I picked out a lovely flowery dress, while Glo wore one of those jumpsuit gowns and an elaborate hat with shades. Toke *cough-cough* wore a pair of shorts that showed off her legs and a chiffon top, big earrings and pumps. Omoge on point! The guy will die there o, see as my friend was looking hot.

4pm on the dot, my doorbell rang and Toke wanted to head to the door. Gloria rushed her and made sure she did no such thing, you can never seem too eager to a man jor. I got the door, and surveyed Lumi. I smiled that “not bad” smile and extended my hand saying “Oyin”, and he took my hand and said “so you guys did the ‘she must not be too eager to come and get the door’ thingy”?

I laughed. He was a smart one. “But of course”, and I stepped aside to let him come in. Toke was right behind me already (RME. The girl is just not trying at all).

The day with Lumi went great. The chemistry between him and Toke was like bread and butter, so together, so seamless. And I did the imagining them in bed thingy in my head and the picture gelled. Glo and I watched them with positive envy (yes there is such a thing), and enjoyed the evening together. First we went to Terakulture for one of his friend’s book reading, and then went on to have dinner at Jevinik. The conversation around that dinner table was one of the best I have had in years. We talked about everything and moved effortlessly through every topic. He was down to earth, witty, and all that Toke had said and more. By the time the evening was over, I had totally forgotten about his age. It felt like I had known him for years. I couldn’t be happier for my friend. If he had that effect on me with just one evening, how could I blame my friend for forgetting with plenty such evenings together?

At about ten o clock, I noticed that Toke was getting more and more cuddly. That’s non-verbal for “you people should start going and leave us to *wink-wink*” I kicked Gloria under the table and she got the message. Lumi picked on the increased activity and seized the moment to say:

“I think we should call it a night, en, ladies?”

We sluggishly gathered our things and shuffled towards Lumi’s car. Toke took the wife position beside him in front and Glo and I got into the back seat, pretending not to notice that there were some slight smooches as he formed opening the door for her. He walked over to the side of his car with a slight arc of his back, and the posture did nothing to hide the bulge he was trying to hide in his groin. In no time, we were home, and they dropped us off for the night (like we were expecting Toke to stay with us ). The BBMS began to fly in from her the moment they left.

Toke: So what do you guys think?

Me: think he’s real great o. Our fears were unfounded.

Toke: Soooooooooooo?

Me:#bbthinkings­miley

Toke: Oyin, you are putting me on long ish! Talk jor!

Me: #bbrotflsmiley.­ We both think the age is not going to be an ish. He’s a correct guy and carries himself so well.

Toke: #bbkisssmiley. Gotta run

Me: Gerrout. We both know what you are running to go and do.

It was then I noticed Glo wasn’t laughing with me. We had been reading the bb conversation together. Maybe she was thinking about her marriage. For whatever its worth, a broken marriage cannot be as easy to take as she had taken it. After her initial relief, there was bound to be despair and a loneliness that was deep. Add that to the sense of loss she must feel over her lost pregnancy. I hadn’t even been married to Yomi and those first few days after the wedding had been hell on earth. So I could imagine to a degree what was going through her mind as she saw Toke so happy with her man. I had felt that way about her being married and preggy earlier

I poured her a drink and we just sat in silence for like fifteen minutes, sipping on our drinks. Gloria broke the silence.

“I need to tell you something, Oyin”, she began

“If it’s about Ossy, and asking forgiveness kind of talk, I’m over that now and we’re waaaaay past that”, I responded

She hushed me and said “No, it’s not about Ossy at all. That whole saga hurts, but I don’t want to talk about that. It’s something else”.

I became alert, and sat up. I wondered what it was that she wanted to talk about. I figured now she had been trying to decide whether to tell me or not, so it had to be pretty serious and had to involve me in some way.

“It’s about Toke, or more correctly, about Lumi”.

I sprang into an upright and fully alert sitting position immediately. “What about him”, I inquired.

Gloria held her head in her hands and said “I have slept with Lumi”.

I collapsed back into my chair like a pack of cards, as tears fell out of Gloria’s eyes.

Before I could get the details out of Gloria, my phone rang. I knew it was Toke because I set her own voice recording as her ringtone. I quickly picked the phone

“Is Gloria there?” she asked

“Yes she is”, I responded and Gloria’s head shot up. All that raced through my mind was that Lumi and told her and she wanted to scream her head off at Gloria.

I gingerly put the phone on the table and put it on speaker phone. “Toks, you’re on speaker now, we can both hear you”.

Then she shrieked, “He proposed!

EPISODE 21

..We both shrieked along, me in delight, and Glo in shock, turning my living room into one big shriek fest, at 11:30pm. When the shrieking had died down, Toke bid us farewell with a “he’s coming, gotta go, we’re about to celebrate”, and hung up. She actually said the last line #inWaconzyVoice

Almost as soon as Toke hung up, a text message came into my phone. I quickly opened it, thinking it was some follow up gist. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a message from Hawt Pastor, asking that I ensure I did not miss church for any reason the next day, since it had been so long ago he had seen me in church.
Once I had finished reading the sms, I turned to Gloria “I’m listening…”

“It was like three years ago, and it wasn’t anything serious. I was in UK, and met him at a party. As you have experienced, he has a way with words and gestures. Things got crazy and it was a one night thing. I never thought I was ever going to see him again in my life, ever. There was no way I would ever have know he would end up as the love of my best friend’s life. Absolutely no way”.

I sat on the edge of the chair, as I realized the dilemma Gloria was going through.

“Please do not tell Toke”, she begged “she’s so happy with him and I don’t want to be the one that ruins everyone’s joy every time. Your wedding and now this.”

While what Gloria was saying made sense at a certain level, she was forgetting something “what if he tells her first? And if he had met you before, why didn’t he say so. And why would he propose to her right after meeting you?” I asked “I think it would be better if she finds out from one of us than him. That’s going to look real bad and it will be more difficult to let her know it was just a foolishness of the past. She can decide if she wants to go on, knowing what she knows. He obviously hasn’t told her so she can make her decision to marry him. We need to give her the opportunity to make an informed decision. Otherwise we’ll be making the same mistake Ossy made when he didn’t give me full disclosure about Yomi’s sexuality”.

She shook her head vigorously “No, he’s not going to tell her anything. From what I’ve seen, he genuinely loves her and wouldn’t want to hurt her that way”. Then she took my hands in hers and looked me square in the face “you must not mention this to her, ever. Oyin, you have to promise me. You must promise me, for Toke’s sake!” I was silent. “Promise!” she repeated. I nodded my head in agreement, hoping I would never have reason to regret the promise I had just made to Gloria.

The next day, I went to church again after a long time. Hawt Pastor had texted me earlier to remind me that I should not miss church for any reason. After the wedding thing, in which I had deliberately chosen not to follow his (sound) advice, our relationship had been sort of frayed. So I was surprised when I woke up that morning and saw his second sms. I really didn’t have much to do anyways, Gloria was going to see her mum and since Toke was still cooped up with Mr. Oga, I wasn’t expecting her back anytime soon. So rather than stay at home and cradle a bottle of JC Leroux, I decided to go to church.

I decided on a very comfy look for church. Jeans, flats, top and a jacket. Nothing elaborate, nothing gengen, I really couldn’t be bothered. If I had any other interesting option of what to do, I would probably not have gone to church that day.

But all that changed when I got to church and the service started. I have missed my church. The praise and worship was heavenly and the congregation was on point as usual. Everything gelled like a well rehearsed concert, the way CD John of blessed memory describes Island church services. One interesting thing though; I could pick out all the ladies who had come to church hoping to find husbands by casual observation. There was something about their dressing, the overstated alleluias and something else I just couldn’t place a name on. In a way, it was so obvious, it was funny. If I could see it this easily, wouldn’t it be so damn easy for the men to see it just as easily? I wonder, I just wonder. Just a few months ago, I was exactly like that, I thought ruefully. My recent experiences and heartaches have matured me sha (Oyin, clap for yourself).

As the service played out, my mind couldn’t help racing over various reasons why Hawt Pastor wanted to see me. As soon as the service was over, one of the fine ushers came and informed me that the pastor would be having a meeting with the building committee and after which he would see me. She handed me a note personally written by the Hawt Pastor himself. “I’d like to finish all business before seeing you, as I would like this meeting to be very private. I’ll make the meetings very brief. Thanks”. I fiddled with my BB for a bit and read status updates, then went through my timeline on twitter and then my FB wall. By the time I had gone through this, the church had emptied. This time I waited, instead of rushing up and forming pastor’s special convert (claps for herself again internally. Okay, I watch waaaay too much Ally Mcbeal). A few moments later, the same usher came back and informed me that the pastor would now see me. I followed her through rows of seats and up the stage stairs towards the office area. She asked me if I knew my way to the office and I nodded a yes. She then left me. I kept wondering what was going on. She had obviously been instructed to allow me come on my own. I am not paranoid, but after all sorts of things we have read, e reach to think these things.

Anyway, I kept going and knocked lightly when I got to the door. Hawt Pastor’s familiar baritone came through “Come in Oyin”.

As I made to open the door, my phone rang. It was Toke. I wondered why she was calling me now. I would return her call when I was done here.

“Oyin are you there?” he called out, his voice closer to the door now. The door opened before I could get it, and Hawt Pastor stood before me, sleeves rolled up, tie lose, but still with the rugged hotness that made him Hawt. “Hi Oyin”, he cooed “would you come in please?” Toke called again and I quickly turned off the ringer.

An SMS came into my phone, and I surmised it was from Toke. “Can I quickly check this?” I asked him as he still blocked the doorway. He nodded and I checked Toke’s SMS. It was short, but it felt like a punch to my face

“Gloria has slept with my fiance

EPISODE 22

Hawt Pastor caught my exclamation and quickly inquired “what’s the matter? Is there a problem?”

“I hope this is not going to take long, an emergency just came up, and I would have to leave very quickly”, I responded after taking a second to gather my breath.

He just said “Hmmm”, and then stepped aside to allow me go into the office.

I went into the empty office and he came in close behind me. I quickly sat down in one of the two visitor’s seats opposite his big seat, expecting him to go and seat in his own seat opposite me. When he leaned against the table on my own side, I became very worried. My eyes darted to the door, to ensure that he hadn’t bolted it from inside. It wasn’t bolted. That was a bit of relief.

He began “Oyin, I know you have been through a lot in the last few months, in trying to settle down. I’m sure there’s a lot more that has happened than the little I know, but even that little is a lot.”

I nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

“I have a proposition to make, and no matter how difficult and hurt you might be at first, I want you to really consider it first before making a decision. In fact, I will not rush you into making such a decision.”

He then placed a hand on my shoulder, and the alarm bells in my head rose to an alarming level. I began to shake my head and began mumbling “this cannot be happening, this cannot be happening, not you too, not you too”. How could Hawt Pastor want to be setting coded P with me? The thought was repulsive in every way I could consider.

“What, Oyin? I asked you to listen to the proposal before jumping to a conclusion.” With that, I heard the door open and as I turned back, I saw a familiar figure enter but I couldn’t make out the face initially, since it was silhouetted. Then I saw who it was and I let out a sigh and then a shocked “What!” the sigh was a sigh of relief. Relief that flooded me that what Hawt Pastor wanted was far away from what I had begun to assume that he wanted. Then the shock was because of the person that just entered. Standing right in front of me, was Femi Tosh.

I jumped up from my sit as he approached; and lashed out at Hawt Pastor, not caring that he was my spiritual leader. I was that enraged by the sight of Femi. The memories of the night I had hung my hopes out in the wind and he left me high and dry looking like a fool rushed back into my mind vividly as if I was still sitting at that table. I was not ready to hear whatever he had to say.

“Is it because of this vindictive fool you brought me here? This grown man who was so immature that he had to play boyish tricks to get back at me in my most vulnerable spot?”

Then I turned on Femi himself “and you are still a child, if you want to talk to me, and you cannot come yourself, you had to go through somebody else. I don’t even want to hear what you have to say.” I began to cry. I cry when I get very angry and emotional over anything.

Hawt Pastor tried to calm me down, but I wasn’t having any of it. I really am tired of all these men walking in and out of my life and feeling like they make me complete. So now that he has come, I should be happy he has come and I should rejoice and be glad at the prospects of being married? The last few months have taught me that if I cannot be with you even if we were never going to marry, then I shouldn’t want to marry you.

I stormed out of the office angrily, not bothering to conceal the tears streaming down my face. I unconsciously wished that Femi would follow me pleading, but I was alone all the way to the car. Unserious nonsensical somebody!

I drove straight home, as if possessed by a barrage of speed demons. When I got there, Gloria was back in my house, waiting in her car. When she saw me in the state I was, she could not say anything, she just helped me into the house. “Oyin, what is it?” she inquired.

Before I could answer, my doorbell rang. I don’t know why I thought it had to be Femi at the door, but I sprang up and raced to the door, wanting to scream a thousand vitriolic words into his face. When I got to the door, I realized it was Toke. I had not responded to her sms and hadn’t taken her calls so she had come to check me. I opened the door and stood aside to allow her in.

She began accusing me at the door “didn’t you see my missed calls and my text message? You didn’t even bother to call back and you were just at home.” she had been crying too and didn’t see I was in tears at first. When she did look at my face and saw it was tear stricken, she let out a gasp. “Oyin, what is it? Why are you crying?”

I didn’t answer, I just let turned away from the door and she kept asking what the issue was as she followed me. The moment she entered the living room and saw Gloria, unbelievably, Toke went ballistic.

“What is she doing here?” she shouted at the top of her voice. Toke isn’t very big, so having her shout like she was going to do something evil to Glo was scary.

Gloria tried to speak up “Toke it’s not what…”

Toke didn’t let her finish “Shut up! You just have to keep spoiling everyone’s joy, because you don’t have any. First you grabbed Ossy, and then did what you did at Oyin’s wedding. And now this. Of all the men in the world that you could have slept with, it just had to be my Lumi! How could you?”

Gloria broke down into tears “it was years ago, before you ever dreamt of meeting him, Toke. How was I supposed to know? How?”

Toke broke down into tears. “You just had to spoil it. Olumide was my perfect picture, and you soiled that perfection. I hate you Gloria. I hate you so!”

“Stop it!” I screamed. “Stop it, both of you!”

“Toke, listen to yourself. Just listen to yourself! Gloria is supposed to be blamed for something that happened between two adults over three years ago? You have set Lumi up in your mind as picture perfect and cannot allow anything affect that picture. So you want to blame Gloria for everything. Do you think this is easy for her?”

Toke was hysterical “I know, Oyin, I know. I’m afraid he will leave me. I slapped him when he told me and called him a small boy. I have tried to call him since and he has refused to take my calls.”

“The let him be. How did he expect you to react to the news that he has slept with your friend? With joy and smiles? If he is serious about getting married, then he will come for you. He chose to tell you about it only after he had proposed and you had accepted his proposal. He did act like a small boy.” I responded

“There’s one more thing I haven’t told you guys,” Toke said quietly, a kind of quiet speaking that told me what I was about to hear would shock me to my bones. “And what might that be?” I ventured.

“I’m pregnant for Lumi.”

“Does he know?” I asked

“Yes he does, I told him just before he told me about him and Glo”.

“Then he should man up and pursue the woman he wants to marry and the soon to be mother of his child if he really wants her. Enough of chasing all these men!”

Toke became quiet, and even Gloria began to look at me intently. I could sense they were wondering what had come over Oyin to make her talk like this, this kind of hard talk hardly came from me. Toke was typically the one that talked that way. In the quiet that followed, Gloria asked the question. “Oyin, what happened to you at church today?”

“Femi Tosh was waiting for me in Hawt Pastor’s office.”

They both let out oohs and long hisses, and then Toke asked “what did the clown want. He wants to do another vengeful ritualistic dramatization abi?”

At that moment, my doorbell rang again. We all became quiet. Who could be at the door? “Who is there?” I called out.

“It’s me, please open up,” a male voice responded from the other side of the door.