This story is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 by Grace Olukoya

Copyright © Nidy Publications

All rights reserved.

Joke literally bounced on her seat unable to hold the excitement that was bubbling inside her.

“Guess the latest,” she demanded of Felicia who was shocked by her friend’s sudden exuberance.

After Felicia’s several wrong answers, Joke spilled the beans.

“I’m getting married!” she screamed excitedly waving her left hand adorned with a sparkling engagement ring on her middle finger.

Five years, three breakups and makeups down the line, Joke would soon be a Mrs. Adewuni. Ade had proposed last evening during their outing to the Jabi resort lake.

They were sitting on the verandah of Joke’s flat to avoid the heat inside the house that came when the power was out. A cool, refreshing breeze spiced the cloudy evening, as the sun’s rays gradually dulled.

Slowly Felicia asked, “Are you sure he really loves you? I mean after all your fights together, quarrels and his supposed heavy toasting of Bidemi, do you think he is the one?” Felicia was cautious with her words, not desiring to offend her friend or suggest bold pessimism.

“Hmm! If he tries to mess around with me, I will show him pepper. In fact, hell on earth. I am no idiot like Aunty,” Joke boasted.

Felicia prayed silently and earnestly that family history would not repeat itself with the lady beside her.

“So, how are you and Wale doing? Is he now your bestie?” Joke asked with a mischievous smile creeping on her face.

The guy was ‘so’ into Felicia which amused her despite the cold shoulder she had been giving him since he first asked her out four months ago.

“Let me be. I don’t really like the guy, except as a casual friend,” Felicia said in a flat tone sipping her Chapman drink.

“Friend!” screamed Joke. “Honestly, you need a boyfriend at this your age, as I am looking at you!”

Felicia shrugged her shoulders. “Ehe, so what. Everyone has a preference.”

Joke ignored that, and handed her a pamphlet from her bag. Felicia read it quietly. A five-day power-packed crusade by Fruitful House Assembly church was holding next week Friday.

“If you go there for their special prayer session maybe some guy will marry you before this year ends,” Felicia heard her friend saying. She sighed, dropping the paper beside her, and finished her drink.