01

------

The basin toppled to the hard concrete floor with a clank; and pink, enthusing grains of groundnuts rolled; rushing off into the gutters and crevices. Onya sighed exasperatedly, looking down at the basin as it lay motionless on its side.

“I’m so sorry,” a husky voice said.

She bent to salvage what she could and seeing that it was no good poured the remaining contents out. Her hands shook, thoughts of breaking the empty basin on the stranger’s head flooded her mind.

“I said I’m sorry,” he said again.

She glared at him and was a bit surprised at the sudden childishness of his voice. The man looked young, probably mid-twenties, and carried himself with the casual disposition of the rich.

“Sorry for yourself. Are you blind? Or you could not see past your baggy agbada?”

“Calm down. It was a mistake. How much?” he asked.

“Oga, please leave me. Your money can’t help me,” she spat back.

“I’m serious. It was a mistake and paying won’t be any trouble.”

“Unless you have harvested groundnuts this week, there’s nothing you can do.”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” His eyes brightened. “At least my father has,” he added.

“Let me give you my address.” she looked uncertain, slightly amused at the way he beat and squeeze the pockets of his over-starched agbada. He found a fancy fountain pen, tore a sheet from a notepad and handed it to her. She scribbled her home address and gave him.

“Thank you,” he said, obviously relieved. His eyes sparkled with triumph and he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time. Her large eyes caught him and he dropped his gaze.

“Consider yourself paid for all damages. You have my word.”

“Sure, because a man’s word is such a weighty thing.”

He laughed with the ease of an infant, shook his head and adjusted the cap on his head.

“Arrest me then.” He raised both hands in mockery and maybe it was because of how the agbada hung on him like a casing or the fact that he stretched his heels to tower over her, Onya covered her face and laughed heartily.

“You’re a funny one,” she said.

“I’ll send your groundnuts, Okay?”

They engaged in a staring contest for a few seconds and she lost, because she was memorizing his features, the smoothness of his skin, like clay, the length of his nose, too symmetrical, his eyes, almost translucent, his lips, finely shaped, like moon crescents. Memorizing his features in the event that he did not fulfill his promise, she reminded herself.

“No problem. It shall be done,” he said, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Mmm, whatever you say.” She tucked the basin under her arm and hastily walked away.

“Wait!” She heard his agbada swish as he ran lightly after her.

“What now?” She turned to ask.

“I’m hungry.” He panted. “Any recommendations?”

She looked bewildered. “I don’t understand, have I somehow progressed from an accident victim to a food consultant?”

“Accident victims are in hospitals, this was really just a minor incident, so please, food?”

A light bulb lit in Onya’s head. She could take him to her mother’s restaurant and overcharge him. It will be an indirect payment of sorts.

“Follow me,” she said. “I know a place.”

02

----

“MAMA’S FOOD IS READY” was an oasis that brought individuals from all works of life to share one common goal: Quench Hunger. The customers mostly comprised of men, male bankers, street hustlers, G-boys, bus drivers and the occasional woman. Bones being crushed, requests for second servings and wraps of swallow smoothly washed down with sachet water blended together to create a pleasant cacophony in the busy restaurant. She ushered him into the crowded hall and found him a seat in a corner, relishing the fact that the little money they’ll make of him will serve as a lesson to his royal richness.

“What will you have?”

“I’ll speak to a waitress,” he answered tersely.

Onya gave him a smug, mischievous smile, “I work here.”

“Oh really?” He asked.

“Yes, what will you eat?”

“What’s available?”

“For swallow, we have Eba, Pounded Yam and Semo. For soup, Egusi, Ogbono and Pepper Soup. We also have Jollof rice, white rice and salad.” She stopped to breathe.

“Wow,” He said, clearly impressed. “What will I have… is that all?” He asked, ogling her, “Any specials? For the generous customers of course…”

“Well, we’d have groundnut soup if a certain obnoxious individual hadn’t single-handedly ruled that out of the menu.”

“You speak well for a waitress.”

“You mean I speak well for a girl of humble background, save me your petty compliments and make your order.” She said impatiently.

“And just so you know, my mother owns the restaurant.” she added. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Oh no.” He paused. “What do you like eating?”

Onya took a little while before she was sure that he wasn’t teasing. “Ogbono and Semo.”

“Okay,” he said almost quietly. “I’ll eat that.”

“How much?” she asked.

“Just give me exactly what you would have.”

She nodded and went to the kitchen. Her mother was sitting on a low stool in front of a large native pot, bathed in sweat, dark splotches decorated the under arms of her floral blouse.

“Onya,” She looked up at her, gently pushing pieces of wood into the fire.

“Mama, well done,” Onya said. “There’s a customer who wants Ogbono and Semo.”

“Okay. Where is the groundnut? This has been boiling since, waiting for you,” she pointed at the blackened native pot.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Onya bit her lower lip. “The basin just fell off my head on the way to the grinding place. Somebody pushed me,” her whole body stood still, waiting for her mother’s reaction.

“Onya! What were you thinking? I have told you about this absent mindedness of yours, walking the streets carelessly, daydreaming.”

“I’m sorry, Mama, The man promised to pay me,” Onya said quietly.

“It’s alright. As long as you’re okay.” She continued to stir the pot and held her chest to cough.

“Go and give food to the customer. I don’t want anybody running away today,” she said lightly.

Popcorn please!!!...and i need a bae to watch this film with.

03
----

As much as the handsome stranger annoyed her, Onya found herself selecting large pieces of meat for him, “to scam him” she thought. She watched him eat. He ate slowly at first, like a child with its first solid. It was almost adorable, the way he struggled with the sleeves of his agbada, until he got ravenous, crunching bone after bone and finishing with several gulps of water. He asked for the bill and Onya thought, “To dupe or not to dupe” and shaking her head at the fragile nature of her conscience, gave him the correct bill.

“Keep the change,” he said, taking a deep, satisfied breath.

“I hope you don’t think this will make me forget the earlier incident,” she remarked casually.

His glassy eyes looked at her and she stared back, transfixed, completely carried away by their clarity.

“Ah, that is your street sense talking. I am not that kind of man. I already gave you my word.”

“Just like that? I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Faisal.” He said, stretching his hand to shake hers’. “What’s yours?”

She hesitated, looking at him with a bit of scepticism before taking his hand.

“Onya.”

Eazie351:
Popcorn please!!!...and i need a bae to watch this film with.

Thanks for being the first to comment!

ftaave:

Thanks for being the first to comment!

I just need a chic to share the honour with...u‘re welcome anyway

ftaave:

Thanks for being the first to comment!

Thats how u wont update again

Gud job... More update pls...

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Waiting for another.... Slide am loving it..

Eazie351:

Thats how u wont update again

sorriiiee! didn't want you to be the only one reading

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Thank you all Sorry for the delay

04
----

They had somehow managed to find silence beneath the noise in the restaurant. Their hands were clasped together and time appeared to pause a bit for them. Her palm was sweaty and when he pulled his hand away, she felt embarrassed. She put them safely behind her back and stared broodingly at the floor.

“Quite the lovely name” he looked at her curiously, “where are you from?”

“Benue, Idoma,” She replied nervously.

“I’m from Kaduna. Jaba” He paused to get her attention. “I’m actually on my way back there from a wedding somewhere at Alheri. You know the place?” She nodded.

“My boss just got married,” he chattered on.

You work?” She asked, surprised.

“Yes. I’m a nurse, not so privileged now am I?” he promptly returned.

“Not bad,” she said nonchalantly.

“Thanks. I’m glad you approve,” he said, sounding sarcastic.

“What about you? Are you still in school or you’re done?” he asked.

“I’m in my third year at the university. Political Science,” she replied.

“Impressive,” said he, nodding.

“For a waitress?” and they both burst out laughing.

05
----

Hours had passed since Faisal left and Onya could not restrict her thoughts from wandering off to the funny stranger. She replayed his remarks and arranged them like music notes in her head. There was something auspicious about her meeting him. Like she had stumbled upon some hidden opportunity. It was probably folly to place it under attraction. She wasn’t a stranger to false hopes and how no matter what was put in to fuel them, they always dwindled into cold, indifferent ashes. She gave herself a mental warning to avoid thinking of him like that. But she knew she wanted to see Faisal again and she prayed silently. That he would somehow seize the initiative and deliver the groundnuts personally.

“Onya,” Mama called from the back yard.

“Coming Mama” She rushed to answer.

“Please take some money and go and buy plantains. Our plantains just finished and you know how people like them in the morning,” she wiped her sweaty forehead with the edge of her wrapper.

“Okay Mama”, she said grudgingly.

The road to the plantain seller’s shop took her through the place where Faisal had thrown off her basinful of ground nuts. After haggling and pleading, she got an attractive bunch of ripe plantains for a price she was convinced gave a worthy testament of her bargaining skills. On her way back to the restaurant, she allowed her mind to concoct the most unrealistic scenes, of Faisal running to her, his white agbada fluttering in the wind. Caught in the haziness of daydreaming, Onya was oblivious to Faisal approaching and found herself quite embarrassed at stepping on his shoes with her rubber slippers.

“Penny for your thoughts” he said.

She slouched her shoulders and refused to answer, putting all her concentration into strangling the plantains.

“Haven’t you heard that you shouldn’t look down at a market place or you might see a spirit?”

“Sure and Otutu really exists too.”

He shrugged, which looked rather odd in his agbada.

“If witches can exist, why not Otutu that in my head seems to bear a certain resemblance with Lagbaja. Anyway, you don’t appear to need any help killing your food this time. The way you’re holding those poor plantains.”

The words hung in the air and it looked like he was eagerly waiting for her to laugh and it was not that she didn’t want to, She was just really shy. So she sighed deeply and told him she had to get back to her mother.

“What’s the rush? Did I say something wrong?”

She looked at him this time, then at his shoes, and the insignificant dust marks her slipper had placed and she said, barely above a whisper,

“I really have to go before the old woman thinks I’ve gone missing.”

“Well, I’m coming with you.”

Her face was frozen in surprise and if there was any pleasure, she hid it well.

“Am I missing something here, why?”

“I missed the bus and I have to eat something for dinner.”

She simply shook her head and began to walk.

“Hey wait” He made to grab her arm. “Where are you running to?”

“You don’t know you’re supposed to follow me abi?”

It was a brief silent walk and when they got to the restaurant, it felt like somebody had pressed pause on the remote of activities at the restaurant. All the tables had been cleared and the chairs stacked in a corner. There was no one at the counter and Onya could not pick sounds of any activities from the backyard.

“Wait here”, she said. He nodded and placed his hands behind his back, walking around the restaurant like a health inspector.

06
----

Mama was not around. Only the girls were seen cleaning pots and pans outside the kitchen, gossiping, as usual.

“Where’s Mama?” she asked

“She go house” said the older girl, barely raising her head from the plates to acknowledge her.

“Okay,” Onya said. “But why are we closing now?”

“Your Mama say make we close. She say make we no even come tomorrow. Say she go call us. Anything happen?”

“Okay then,” she said, ignoring the girl’s question. But if Mama didn’t want to open tomorrow why had she sent her off to buy plantains?

She met Faisal engrossed with his blackberry. He looked up as she came in and gave the faintest hint of a smile before returning his gaze to the phone.

“I’m looking for you on Facebook,” his eyes flitted over her for a while.

“Oh-kay,” she sounded distracted.

“So what’s the name?”

“Onya Abah.”

“Onya Abah,” he repeated slowly, and kept humming it under his breath until Onya thought she couldn’t bear to hear it said another way.

“Found you.”

She watched his fingers glide across the screen, obviously looking at her pictures and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

“You know you’re a fine girl sha?” he said.

Onya did not know how to reply him. She did not want to agree or tell him thank you, as if she needed his approval. She stared at the floor and shrugged.

“I’ve sent you a request,” he said. “It’s Faisal Magaji.”

When Blessing and Joy were done cleaning and arranging, Onya locked up after them. She secured the kitchen with a heavy padlock and the door to the hall with its inbuilt lock and external burglary proof door. Together, she and Faisal stepped into the serene chill of the evening.

Thanks so much for taking the time to read so far. I hope I've entertained you enough to continue... the story continues here:

https://lecoffeespot./2017/05/24/love-at-first-lie-e2/

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[quote author=ftaave post=57331403]04
----

They had somehow managed to find silence beneath the noise in the restaurant. Their hands were clasped together and time appeared to pause a bit for them. Her palm was sweaty and when he pulled his hand away, she felt embarrassed. She put them safely behind her back and stared broodingly at the floor.

“Quite the lovely name” he looked at her curiously, “where are you from?”

“Benue, Idoma,” She replied nervously.

“I’m from Kaduna. Jaba” He paused to get her attention. “I’m actually on my way back there from a wedding somewhere at Alheri. You know the place?” She nodded.

“My boss just got married,” he chattered on.

You work?” She asked, surprised.

“Yes. I’m a nurse, not so privileged now am I?” he promptly returned.

“Not bad,” she said nonchalantly.

“Thanks. I’m glad you approve,” he said, sounding sarcastic.

“What about you? Are you still in school or you’re done?” he asked.

“I’m in my third year at the university. Political Science,” she replied.

“Impressive,” said he, nodding.

“For a waitress?” and they both burst out laughing.[/quote\]
while a female is called a nurse, a male is referred to as a murse

Make I keep sit

Interesting story.

this piece can only be put together by my felicia(felicity). felicia just tell me it's you!!

Cool.

Cool

[img][/img]nice one.thumbs up

Nice,feeling u.Jus hope say you go continue.