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That meant there was about five years age difference between us. Five years!

But then, she was very pretty. She had a very nice figure, and if she hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t believe she had a eleven years old daughter.

I was still thinking about her when I slept off. When I woke up, I felt refreshed. Bimbo was back in the house for the weekend. She soon came to my room.

‘I was here earlier but did not want to disturb your sleep,’ she said.

I smiled at her. ‘Bimbo, how was school? How was exam, so far?’

‘Fine.’

Thankfully, David was in the room, so all we could have was normal conversation. Later, towards evening, Desire sent another messenger to me.

‘Can you date an older partner?’ she asked.

To me, it was a million dollar question. Before I answered her, I searched my heart and asked myself the question. The fact was I had asked myself that kind of question before.

My answer then was yes. It would not be because of the money I could make from it. It would not be because of any lucre. It would be because of true and genuine feelings. That was my belief.

‘Yes, I can,’ I wrote.

‘Will it be because she’s comfortable and can offer you something in return?’

‘No. It will be because I really have genuine feelings for her and want her.’

‘Want her for what?’

‘If she’s honest, frank and genuinely gives me affection, I will do the same in good measure.’

‘What about her age? What about the age difference?’

‘If the feelings are genuine, the age does not matter.’

She did not respond again.

I would be having some days off from my place of work, so I could relax for the weekend.

Sunday morning, I was in the church with the rest of the family. I realized my mind was barely on what was going on. The odd thing was I was thinking about Desire and could not get her pretty face from my mind. Oh Lord!
After the service, we went back home. I relaxed on my bed, trying hard not to think about Desire. About two o’clock, her WhatsApp messenger came in.

‘How was the service?’ she asked.

‘Great,’ I replied. ‘What about yours?’

‘Wonderful. We sang wonderful story of love.’

I smiled. ‘We sang no friend like the lonely Jesus.’

‘So, how are you?’

‘I’m not sure I’m fine.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m kind of confused.’

‘Over what?’

That was a hard question. My mind was telling me two things. One said I should damn whatever would be the outcome and tell her I had feelings for her. Another one said no, I shouldn’t.

‘I don’t know.’ I wrote.

Nice.

I got up from the chair and lay on my bed, thinking. After some minutes, I decided I should call her and thank her for the note she sent. I would also wish her happy weekend. I dialed her number. She picked it at the fourth ring.

‘Good morning, madam.’

‘Good morning. This is Ella.’

I was surprised. I quickly checked the number I called. It was the number I had stored as ‘Sister Desire.’

‘Er, can I be on to Mrs. Desire? I’m Richard.’

I heard something that sounded like a chuckle. ‘She’s taking her bath. You can call back in ten minutes.’

I heaved a sigh. ‘Alright. Thank you.’

The voice I had heard was most likely a big girl’s own. She was probably a niece or so living with her. I waited for twelve minutes to elapse. Then, I called her number again.

‘She still hasn’t come out.’ The girl I had spoken to said.

‘Please, as soon as you see her, tell her Richard called.’

‘Alright.’

‘Sorry, what’s your name again?’

‘Ella,’ she said. ‘I’m her daughter.’

What? I had not seen Ella physically, but I had no doubt that she must be a grown up girl.
That meant Sister Desire had a grown up girl! So, why did she send that note to me? What did she want?

I waited for another thirty minutes before I called her again. This time around, she picked it.

‘Is that you, madam?’ I asked.

‘Yes. Good morning, Richard.’

‘Good morning, ma’am. I saw your note and called to say thank you. Happy weekend too, ma’am.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I really appreciate, ma’am, although I wondered why you should go through all the trouble. Thank you, madam.’

‘Thank you too. Bye for now.’ She disconnected the line.

I sighed to myself and did some wondering. Maybe she was having marital challenges and she wanted to ease the tension, my mind told me. Another mind said she might be a divorcee. Well, whichever she was, why pick interest in a young man like me? With her beautiful face and good figure, surely many men would desire her!

I adjusted my pillow. Maybe I should just get some sleep and forget about sister Desire. I closed my eyes. My phone beeped. A message had come in. It was on my WhatsApp and it was from Sister Desire.

‘Why is it that our society stigmatizes single mothers?’ she wrote.

My mind was busy. Could she be a single mother?

‘It is because our society is ultra conservative,’ I wrote back.

‘What’s your feeling towards single mothers?’ she asked.

‘I do not have any ill feelings towards them,’ I replied. ‘If I may ask, are you a single mother, ma’am?’

Her reply: ‘Yes. I have an eleven year old daughter. You spoke with her the other time.’

Wow! I paused for several seconds before I wrote my response. ‘I’m twenty eight years old, ma’am. If I may ask, how old are you?’

‘I’m about to clock thirty-three,’ she wrote.

I wasn’t surprised. I had all along suspected that she couldn’t be less than thirty-five.

‘It’s a pleasure meeting you, ma’am,’ I wrote.

‘Drop the “ma’am”. Call me Desire.’

I smiled at myself. Richard, be careful.

‘Okay, Desire,’ I replied.

‘I caught you staring at me in my office yesterday,’ she wrote.

My heart beat increased. Oh God, so she saw me while I was staring at her!

‘I’m sorry about that,’ I wrote.

‘It’s alright.’

‘Thank you for your understanding.’

There was no reply from her again. This woman was teasing me, I thought. How would I handle this? A single mother. A successful career woman. A woman close to thirty-three. That meant there was about five years age difference between us. Five years!

She stood up. ‘Give me one minute.’

I was left alone in the office. It was a very comfortable office. Surely working in an office like this was not a bad idea. But the bakery too was helping me out, I told myself. I thanked God for what I had already.

Five minutes later, Sister Desire was back.

‘Sorry again for keeping you waiting. I guess I’m going to be very busy today.’

I got the hint and stood up.

‘You must keep on calling me to remind me of this,’ she said.

‘Sure, madam. Thank you.’

I moved to the door. ‘Have a nice day, Richard.’

‘And you too ma’am.’

I left the office and took the elevator to the ground floor. The warmth of the outside hit me as soon as I left the grand building. Welcome back to the world, I told myself.


The following morning, I left the bakery about eight. I had just completed my night duty eand I needed to get home and take a well-deserved sleep and rest. I was about to have some sleep when Audu came to tell me that I had a visitor.
‘Who?’ I asked him.

‘He say him name be David.’

‘David?’ I didn’t have any friend that bore the name. ‘Alright.’ I followed him to the gate to see who the visitor was. A man I had never seen before was there. He had come in a car that had the sticker of national oil company.
‘Good morning,’ I greeted him.

‘Good morning. Are you Richard?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘My oga said I should give you this.’ He handed a letter to me.

‘Sorry, who is your oga?’

‘Mrs. Desire.’

I nodded. ‘Thank you.’

The man returned to the car and drove off. He was probably a driver, I thought. I examined the letter and returned to my room. The handwritten, cursive name and address couldn’t be an official letter; not the kind of letter, national oil company would issue. This must be sister Desire’s handwriting. What could be her message?

I got to my room and sat on the plastic chair beside a small desk, where I sometimes did my reading. I opened the envelope and brought out a small letter. It read:
Hello, Richard. Happy weekend.
From Desire.

I checked the back of the letter as if there would be more messages there. None. I couldn’t believe this. Would sister Desire want to wish me a happy weekend and she would send a driver to convey the message? She had my number. Why didn’t she simply call?

And then, she was wishing my happy weekend. Why would she do that? I thought over it for some minutes. This sister was showing interest in me. But she should be married. I knew she should be in her mid or late thirties, what friendship could possibly be between us? I was just twenty-eight. She must have seen that on the c.v I submitted. That was where she got my residence address in the first place. Why would she send a message like this? Why would she go through the trouble?

I got up from the chair and lay on my bed, thinking. After some minutes, I decided I should call her and thank her for the note she sent. I would also wish her happy weekend. I dialed her number. She picked it at the fourth ring.

‘Find time to bring it to the office at Kofo Abayomi, Victoria Island.’

‘I’ll do that, ma’am.’

‘My office is on the fifth floor. Just tell them you want to see Desire.’

I smiled again. ‘Thank you very much, madam.’
‘Good night’

‘Good night, ma’am.’

She had cut off the line. Phew, what a call! I hoped the offer at the national oil company would jell through. It was a place many Nigerians desired to work, including myself. I definitely had to find time to take my credentials there. Fortunately, I was on night shift the following day. I would have to visit that office the following morning.

I was at the reception of the National oil company by ten thirty in the morning. I had filled the visitor’s book and was told to wait a while. The receptionist called Desire to inform her that a guy called Richard was around to see her. The lady listened briefly and turned to me.

‘Come and wear the visitor’s tag. Go to floor five, room 007.’

I attached the tag to my well-ironed and smart looking shirt and joined the short queue waiting for the elevator. When I got to the floor, the first thing I noticed was the very cool atmosphere of the place. It was in contrast with the bakery, which was always very warm.
I knocked on the door of room 007, opened the door and stepped in. A secretary asked me to sit down. Few minutes later, sister Desire came out with another lady.

‘Good morning, madam,’ I greeted zealously.

‘Good morning, Richard. Just a minute.’

She and the woman left the office. About five minutes later, she was back.

‘O ya, Richard, come,’ she said as she led me to her office. ‘I hope you’re not angry that you were kept waiting.’

‘Oh no, ma’am. I can understand.’

She sat on her seat and motioned me to chair.
She stretched her hands out. ‘Can I have the credentials?’

I had carefully stapled them and put them in an envelope inside my black folder. I handed them to her.

She put on her glasses and carefully went through the papers. She seemed to be studying them. I studied her in return. The glasses, perched on the tip of her nose, fitted her well. Her white shirt was new and crisp. I thought I would see the wedding ring on her finger, but it was not there. Maybe she forgot to wear it. Her hair was stylishly parked to the back. Her make up was moderate; same with the ear rings. She looked delectable.

‘Okay, Richard,’ she finally said. ‘I’ll talk to my boss and see what can be done on this. I’m not really promising, but let’s be positive about it.’

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

She looked at me critically and smiled.

‘That means you’ll have to be giving me call from time to time to find out how far.’

I smiled too. ‘That will be no problem, ma’am.’

‘If I may ask, how much do you earn now?’

I told her.

‘Hmn, that’s not so much,’ she said.

I nodded.

She stood up. ‘Give me one minute.’