THAWED... PT 6

source: graphicriver.

Hi darlings,


I hope you guys are doing great. I have thought about you everyday that I was gone. We've got so much to talk about but before we get there, I'd like to drop THAWED (Part 6) here for you. A lot of people reached out to me, asking for it and I'm sorry it took so long.


Just in case you're just hearing about Thawed, it's an amazing, unconventional Nigerian love story that you don't want to miss out on. I'll drop links to the previous episodes before posting the 6th part so that those who have some catching up to do can do just that.


Here we go:
THAWED (PT 1)
THAWED (PT 2)
THAWED (PT 3)
THAWED (PT 4)
THAWED (PT 5)

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THAWED (PT 6):

“Edi where have you been? Aniekan and Edidiong have been trying to call you. Ehn? And why do you look so harassed?” my mother started as soon as I walked through the door. “Mummy good morning.” I mouthed barely audibly. “Are you okay?” he tone changed after she took a good look at me. “I am just really weak.” “Ewo! Nwa m, oya sit down” she moved the teddy bear Didi must have kept on the sofa unto another chair. I hit the seat with a moan. “Mummy where are the girls?” I asked, straining to hear their voices or the sound of the T.V. “Aniekan is rounding up her packing. Edidiong is helping her out. They probably got tired of waiting for you” “I’m sorry. Things took an unexpected turn and I just couldn’t get here any faster. The pang of hunger I felt seemed unfair to me given that I had had something to snack on not too long ago. Perhaps I’d feel better after a short nap.

After I had gotten back from the café, I had asked Nana to go get dressed while I waited for her. Unfortunately, I slept off and Nini who I was really bothered about did not deem it fit to wake me up cuz she got carried away by some movie. So I woke up really late and mad as hell. The kids got a major dose of scolds and of course, I blamed my mum too, for not waking me up. I still felt like shit so driving was the least of the available options. The house was as quiet as a graveyard with everyone staying out of my way. I tried to yell two drivers into making the trip but the ol’ sports just wouldn’t budge. With the hostel mistress calling me incessantly and getting ignored consistently, I knew I had one last call to make.

“I hoped this call would come sooner” he said smugly without bothering with greetings. “I got home, slept off and now, I’ve got to get her to school one way or another cuz there’s no way she’s missing exams tomorrow because her mum had a crappy weekend.” “That’s okay. I’ve got some time to spare. Is the coffee shop good for a meeting place?” I wonder why he sounds amused. Anyway, I wouldn’t indulge him seeing as there were more pressing matters on my mind. “Yes, that’s fine. My car.” I said placidly. He seemed not to mind my tone, said he’d see me in ten minutes and hung up. I quickly got Aniekan’s duffel bag into the car and made sure she was properly dressed. Didi cried, insisting that she’d come with us but at this time, I wanted to be careful about how much of me Amanze had access to and that includes my children. Why the hell can’t I even drive my daughter to school? I mean Ogun state is just around the corner. As soon as another bang went off it my head, I remembered why. There was no way I could drive considering how I felt. I bribed Didi with 5 granola bars and a bar of Toblerone and all was well in the kingdom.

I parked right outside the coffee shop twenty minutes later. I didn’t see his car, assuming the one I saw at the fuel station is his only car, and I kinda doubt that. So I told Nini to sit tight while I went in to check if Amanze was already waiting. He sat with ear phones plugged in, and a copy of some Japanese manga in his hands. This guy is just something, I thought as I walked towards him. He had his back to me and as soon as I stretched out to tap him, he turned and smiled. “I could smell you. That’s beautiful way to announce one’s presence.” “Whatever you say” I retorted as I turned towards the door. In a second, he was beside me, taking long strides towards the exit. “This is Aniekan right?” “Yes. Everybody calls her Nini.” “Hmmm…I like Aniekan or Annie” he said as he held the door open for me. “Do you ever stick to the books?” I asked dryly. I felt like crap and did not have enough in me for witty banters with Amanze. I walked to the front passenger’s seat and let him take the wheel. He got in, adjusted his seat to his comfort and then turned to Nini. “Hi Annie. I’m Amanze. I’ve heard so much about you.” “Good evening. My name is Nini. It’s nice to meet you” said Nini looking up from her Manga. I almost laughed. I knew Nini would insist on being introduced as Nini. “You read Mangas too?” he asked with genuine interest. “Yes. There really cool. I read the girly kind but my brothers like the ones filled with fights and blood. Boys are so weird.” “I know we are. So what class are you in?” “I am in JS 1” she replied proudly. She lets everyone know that she’s no longer in primary school. “Guys let’s get going. We don’t have time.” I said interrupting their conversation. This guy had a way of just making everybody get comfortable with him. “Yeah…let’s.” he started the car smiling to himself. Nini quickly went back to her manga. After a few minutes, I noticed him look at Nini through his rear mirror and smile to himself. I felt my stomach tug at me some, and then pushed all thoughts away from my mind as I faced the window.

The trip must have been interesting. I could sort of hear Aniekan and Amanze chatter away in my sleep. I was just too tired to register anything going on and although it wasn’t the most comfortable sleep, I was glad that I could close my eyes for a minute. Unlike I expected, he didn’t wake me up now and again to ask for directions. “Edima, we’re here.” I opened my eyes to find us at my daughter’s school. Nini was already trying to get down. “Hold up young woman.” I said still trying to boot. “Let’s pray” I said not mind whether or not our guest would be uncomfortable. I prayed over my daughter and got off to have a word with the matron. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Amanze helping her get out the duffel bag from the trunk of the car. This man is trouble I thought as I made my trip to the next block of buildings. On my return, I saw Amanze and Nini practicing some weird kind of handshake. Trust Aniekan to learn these things fast. “My friend come and get going” I said as I dragged her into a hug, partly to stop them from doing whatever it is they were doing. I kissed my daughter on the forehead and whispered blessings to her. As if on cue, I heard the click of a camera. “What was that for?” I asked a bit cross. This time he didn’t look amused or naughty. “Twenty years from now, you’ll treasure this picture more than almost everything. So you do not get to be mad.” Where did all this seriousness come from? I returned my attention to Nini as I let her go and watched as my baby walked towards what she’d call home for the next two months. The boys could not come to say hi. This wasn’t visiting hours and there was nothing I could do to change the minds of those in charge. I had given Nini a bunch of stuff for I got into the car and quickly wiped off a stray tear before Amanze would get into the car.

“Are you good?” he asked still looking at me with a healthy dose of seriousness. I was in no mood for this man’s intensity. “Allergies” I lied swiftly. “You should be driving” I added impatiently. No, I should calm down. I was directly and indirectly letting him see too much. I quickly willed myself to stop being emotional. “Thank you for doing this” I said with a small smile as calmly as I could manage. He just nodded and started the car as the engine purred to life. We were quiet for most of the journey apart from a few comments from me here and there. We just kept nodding or handing me half-baked smiles. The traffic jam as a result of people returning to Lagos for work, from redemption camp and Canaan land was building up rapidly and soon, we barely moved for seconds before stopping for minutes. I was still facing the window with my shades on. It was a few minutes passed six and although it wasn’t dark yet, it was definitely not the moment for wearing shades. I took a gulp of water and replaced the bottle in the holster. Just as I was about to return the hand to my lap where I picked it up from, Amanze took it. I tried to pull my hand away but instead he interlocked our fingers and smiled. “Edima relax. This won’t hurt. I hear holding hands helps with relaxation and that’s just what you need.” I stopped fighting and turned to the window as I drifted into sleep.

“We are here.” I woke up with my hands still in Amanze’s. It was dark already. How had he managed to drive with just one free hand? “What time is it?” I asked. “Time enough for you to grab a meal.” That was when I noticed where we were; right in front of Nri. “What are we doing here?” I asked genuinely surprised. “I don’t know where you live so I figured you could eat something so that you could be strong enough to drive yourself home.” I took my hands back and this time, he didn’t oppose. I popped a mint in my mouth and took a sip of water. “Fine. Thank you.” “Right. We should get going. They won’t serve the food here.”

I am back here, I thought as I sat trying to feign aloofness. This was my first time back at Nri after I swore to forget her and her amazing food, and of course, her owner as well. More than anything, I couldn’t wait to eat. The Lord knows I deserve a good meal after the kind of crappy weekend I’d just had. The place was still as beautiful as I remember. Nothing had really changed. The air was sweet and heavy with something floral. The light was subtle yet bright enough to cast beams on the brown shiny wooden surfaces here and there. And jazz flowed from the speakers… absolutely amazing. The place wasn’t packed with people; just about four couples, each pair looking dreamy as they spoke with each other between mouthfuls of whatever piece of heaven they had ordered. I sat alone, waiting for him. He came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. We got a space for two at one of the cubicles so it was really secluded…private. There was a chair, more like a high sofa, for two and a table both facing the window. So we had to sit on the chair together. I was so tired that I sat leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table with my thumbs to my temples. “You can lean on me, you know?” he offered as he plopped down beside me. “I’ll be fine. I just need to go to bed.” “Here. You’ll feel better.” He said calmly handing me a glass of wine as though he didn’t hear me. “I can’t do any alcohol.” I said still retaining my position. “You should learn to trust some more.” I sat up and took a long gulp. “What are these made from? They taste so different.” I said barely audible as I leaned back on the sofa. “Cherries. You know, I’m beginning to get worried. Is this just fatigue or do you need to see a doctor? Is there anyone I can call to come drive you home?” “It’s just my mum and I don’t want her worrying about me. I’m sure the grubs will make me feel stronger.” I took more sips of the wine as we both sat silently, staring into the night.

“The weight you bear is beyond you Edima. You’re not fine anymore.” “What?” I asked half surprised, half trying to comprehend if he really just said that to me. “It’s been a long day my dear. You should be too tired to play pretend.” He said quietly as he took a sip from his glass. “I am okay.” “You’re not. I saw it the first time I saw you. I thought it was just passing through; that maybe some French wine would help some. I was wrong.” He continued. “I feel like I want to help you…but I don’t know if I can or if it’s in my place to do so.” I turned to face him this time. “You don’t know me Amanze. Nobody’s just an easy puzzle to unravel.” “I know Edima. You are not easy and I’m yet to decide on whether you should be unraveled.” Somehow, his words just did not sound like lines, if you know what I mean. He looked pretty serious, like he did when he took the picture of me and Nini. I stuttered a little and just shut my mouth. “Dinner’s here.” I said in the bid to clear the air. I had rice and some kind of curry sauce with little chunks of goat meat. It was so good and I really felt better. Amanze had a chicken salad and continued to sip on Cherry wine, all the while staring at me with an intensity that made my skin burn while I did my best to think of anything else but him. As soon as my meal was finished, I grabbed my phone and stood to leave. He stood up as well and led me to the elevator without any word. The ride down was short and the journey to the dark spot where my car was parked was even shorter. This all felt familiar; me walking to my car, trying to will myself to want to forget this same man. The difference was he was right here, walking with me and just being unintentionally unforgettable. “You don’t look like you want to see me anytime soon” he said as we came to a stop by the door of my car. How does he sense these things? “Thank you very much for today…with Nini and everything else.” “It’s okay. Thanks for letting me help.” He said as he held the door open for me. I started to get in when he grabbed my arm gently. “You could use some of this.” With that he pulled me into a bear hug. How could a person see everything but how he was part of the problem. I clung to him, his scent- he smelled like heaven. I held unto the possibility of what danced round my mind as misty as it may seem. And he hugged me right back. I disentangled myself from him and got into my car. He stood with an arm on the roof of the door looking at me like he always did. I fumbled with my keys a little and ignited the engine. He leaned in. “Will you be alright?” “I will be.” And our lips met. This time, the shock reverberated through my body. What business did I have doing this? My heart was thumping erratically, threatening to break out of its cage. Amidst all this chaos, it was a gentle kiss. I could taste the cherry wine on his tongue and the need that flowed through him too. His hand came up to my face, gently positioning fingers at the base of my neck. I made sure not to touch him. I knew I’d lose it if I did so I just gripped the steering wheel tightly as I let him literally take my breath away. Despite his gentleness, I could sense…taste an urgency, a demand and a kind of solemnness from him. Then he stopped without pulling away. “I really want to be sorry about this.” He whispered gruffly. He pecked me on my forehead and walked away, relaxingly, with both hands in his pockets. “Shit!”

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I hope things are getting as interesting as you hoped they would. I would really really love to hear what you think. The romantics are probably in a good place while some other people might feel like hitting some sense into her. Yes? Hahaha...  I'm sure people like Duru and Mang Okafor will have interesting opinions.

I'm really glad to be here again. :)

Stay beautiful!

xoxo,

Nazzy

ThAwEd... PT 5

Source: graphicriver.net

I dug out my keys and dragged my feet to the gate. I had parked outside the previous day in the bid to preserve some space to be used at the party. I unbolted the pedestrian gate as quietly as I could and let myself out. The air was moist and chilly. I quickly got into my car and heaved a sigh of relief. It was a Sunday and I silently promised myself a marathon sleep. I ached all over and could not help resting my head on the steering will. My phone buzzed. It was Eddie. I wasn’t sure I had the grace in me to spend what energy I had left on a husband who was as absent as grey hair on my head. I silenced the ring and put down my roof mirror. I hope that’s what it’s called. Anyways, I took some wet wipes from my pigeonhole and wiped my face clean of all the makeup that had formed a horrid mess on my face. I still had a bottle of water from the previous day and I gulped half of it down. I still felt very groggy and needed to get home as soon as possible before I passed out on the wheels.

The traffic was light and I was so grateful. I don’t think I would have been able to handle Lagos traffic. Somehow my mind drifted to coffee. A friend of mine had mentioned this place in Victoria Island that had spectacular lattes. I couldn’t remember the name but she said it was somewhere around Kofo Abayomi so I set out to find it. I drove around for five more minutes before I spotted the shop, I hoped. I grabbed my purse and picked up a pair of flip-flops from the backseat. The aroma of hot pastries and the brew of coffee hit me hard in the face as soon as I got in; I almost staggered with pleasure. I don’t know if their stuff tastes as good as it smells but at that moment, I just wanted to stand and inhale. The décor was commendable; dark wood, upholstery of diverse textures, mirrors and beautiful bulb holders. It had a homely touch to it and it was surprisingly warm. Not so warm that you start to sweat but warm enough that I didn’t wanna go back outside. I realized I had been standing at the entrance for almost a minute. Thankfully, the place wasn’t buzzing with people so I didn’t get to feel embarrassed. I found a table set for two chairs and made myself at home. I was getting weaker by the second and reminded myself that I had to get going as soon as possible. I began to scan through the menu on the table when I felt a hand on my shoulder.  I looked up and there was Amanze and his bright eyes looking down at me. My heart missed three beats and I think my intestines shrank or something. My pulse was definitely at 100km/h. I quickly remembered how much of a mess I looked like and wished to just vanish into the thin air. “I think you’re stalking me” I squeaked. His laughter was rich. “You look like a mess… a beautiful one though. I never noticed your eyes beneath all that eye shadow” he said still retaining his smile. He pulled out the other chair and sat opposite me. I immediately noticed the scar at the base of his neck. It looked like it had been stitched. He had what looked like two-day old stubbles and his hair was slightly tussled from sleep, I guessed. He was wearing a sleeveless cotton shirt and sweat pants. On his feet, he wore a pair of Nike sneakers and I could see the cables of his ear phones from peeking out of his right pocket. He smelled strongly of deodorant, perhaps, axe. He had sweat on his brows and biceps and back. I was still weak but I definitely had the energy to stare at a beautiful man on a Sunday morning. “You know what I said about your eyes, it was supposed to be a compliment.” “Thank you. So umm…you run every Sunday?” “As a matter of fact, yes. I attend the 4^th service at my church so early morning runs or walks on Sundays have become a habit.” “Oh I see. I just dropped by to get coffee. I hear they have good stuff here” I said picking up my purse in the bid to leave. There was something about this man that made me feel uneasy in an exciting way. I hope you can understand that. “Come on now. You don’t have to leave. I can go if you’d rather be alone. Maybe give you a call later on” he said and grabbed my arm gently. I froze literally. The first and only time I had reacted this way to a man was when my husband kissed me for the first time. His countenance changed immediately; he must have sensed it. It looked like guilt, like when a person thinks he must have hurt another one. What was wrong with me? Whatever I was going through was none of his business and he didn’t deserve for me to act as though it was. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit jumpy. I have had quite a night.” All of a sudden, fatigue hit me like a wave of strong currents and it suddenly wasn’t about last night or Edikan’s calls or even the fact that I had been losing it slowly for some time now. It was about everything. I knew it was coming; a great flood of tears so I put my hands in my face as soon as I sat down. As I anticipated, the tears came. I couldn’t control them but I made great effort not to make any noise. So I sat there silently and cried while this stranger sat opposite me, probably not knowing what to do with me, a woman who he barely knew. I heard him move away from the table and felt shame wash over me. I probably freaked the poor man out with my drama. I still couldn’t raise my head but I was done pouring tears. I thought about my kids and remembered that Nini had to be taken back to school today. I had forgotten to tell the driver to come get her. I had to make the phone call before it was too late.

I looked up just in time to see Amanze drop a latte and a thick layer of paper towels on the table. I quickly picked up a paper towel and dabbed my face with it. “I’m a strong woman. I don’t know what just happened here” I said quietly. “I’m not patronizing you when I say we all have those moments.” He said with a smile. This time the smile wasn’t smile. It was as though he was smiling just because he had too. He soon lost the smile and uncapped the latte carefully. “Here. This is the best you’ll ever have in Lagos. And it’s my recipe. I’m the only one who gets this here” he said as he handed me the cup. I took it cautiously, careful not to let our hands touch. I closed my eyes and brought the cup to my lips…then I paused and inhaled. The brew was heavenly and I just took it in for a few more seconds before I finally took a sip. By the time I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me with a kind of intensity I cannot quite explain. “So you’re a romantic. Not everyone knows how to or can even take coffee in this manner.” I smiled. “My father, I learnt it from him. He never takes coffee without inhaling. Some people might think it’s a rather weird or nasty habit but I find it as sweet as he was.” I was still smiling but he wasn’t. “Was?” He asked with slightly piqued interest. “He passed away last year. I try to hold unto what I can about him.” I looked out of the window, still smiling. I could never talk about my father and not smile no matter how bad things were. By the time I turned back to him, his arms were crossed across his chest and his eyes were still intensely fixed on me. Boy, this man is bold! I quickly looked at my left hand; I wasn’t wearing my ring. I had pulled it off the bid to keep it safe when I got really busy yesterday. Maybe that was why he was so comfortable looking at me this way; there was nothing visible to stop him. He didn’t strike me as a wild or loose person but for some reason, I always remember that I am married around him. It would have been nicer to actually feel married but… I changed the line of my thoughts. I didn’t have more tears to spare.

“I can tell you’re a really strong woman and that what went down here was a sea breaking through a wall of ice you’d built. You had to have been expecting that for some time now. I don’t mean to pry” he added and picked up his own latte. I couldn’t say anything to that so I just sat, sipping on the coffee he’d handed me a few minutes ago. He was right, this was the best latte I had had in my entire life. I was tasting something I couldn’t quite lay a finger on but I wasn’t in the mood to know what it was. So I inhaled and sipped and inhaled again. “So are you gonna tell me why you look like you just woke with a hangover…not that the sexy, messy look doesn’t work for me.” I gave him a look that said “you’ve got guts.”  He quickly figured that out. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite think of any synonym for the word.” He looked really sincere and I found that funny. I laughed and he smiled. “Now we’re making progress.” I told him about Dami’s party and the role I played in it and about Nini’s health. He was so easy to talk to. He told me stories of from his childhood and how he’d left his job as a Senior Manager at an investment bank to own restaurants. Just like before, we talked about a lot of things. “You mentioned that Aniekan had to be taken back to school and that you needed someone to drop her off” he said veering off the current track of our conversation. “Umm… Yes. There’s this driver that I call to take them to school but I’m yet to call him and he’s on high demand. I even doubt that he’d be available since I haven’t called until now.” I said as I began to worry. “Relax. There’s always a way around these things.” He said, sipping on his latte. “Sadly, I can’t think of any at the moment. I should get going.” I braced myself to stand. “She goes to Corona at Ogun right?” I had to look surprised. Where was he going with this? “Yes. Why?” “I could offer but that’d probably freak you out. We are not there yet.” I considered the offer in my head. First of all, I didn’t really know this guy and with all the silent drama we had going on, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get my kids involved. Besides, you don’t just take a person’s Sunday away from him like that. On the other hand, I could really use his help. “Thanks for offering. Really. But I think I’ll try to reach that driver first before exploring other options. Thank you for coffee and pardoning my breakdown.” I said with a smile. He was still looking at me in that very intense way, like he was trying to figure out something on my face. “That’s okay but if that doesn’t work out, I’ll be just a phone call away.” he said rising to his feet. I have always had it for men just about his height. I even married one. I smiled at myself and turned towards the door. He was right behind me. When we got to the door, he held my arm to stop me and then opened it for me. Outside the building was slightly windy for some reason. I quickly caught a wisp of his scent and it was musky with a zing of sweat or I dunno… but he smelled good alright. Shit! I probably smelled like crap. I unlocked my car and got in. He leaned in over my window and smiled. “I hope you have a hard time finding someone else to go on this trip.” I nodded said thanks and shoved the gear into reverse mode.

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Hello my lovelies, I hope this made a good read. I know it's high time we got to the end of this series. I will try to bring it to the table more promptly and consistently.

As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts on how things are unfolding.

Stay in love,

Pray harder,

Work smarter,

Be beautiful.

xoxo,

Nazzy

THAWED Part 4

Source: blenderartists.com

It’s been two weeks since Edikan went to Ghana and things had returned to normal. The adults had gone back to school. Edidiong was doing great and wouldn’t let me hear anything but how her dad promised her a trip to Texas during the summer to spend some time with Uzo, her best cousin. The two girls started calling each other that after the two summers they spent together. The first was when the kids travelled to the states during the summer break, two years ago. The second time was last year, when my sister had visited home with her kids and spent three weeks at my place. She had married an Igbo man who I should emphasize is an amazing husband. That explains why her daughter bears the name Uzodinma. I was checking out the latest orders we received when I got a call from Dami. Dami and I have been really close friends since my second year in the university and we’ve literally been through thick and thin together. I find it special that we’ve never really been apart from each other since we became close. We both obtained our masters degrees from the UK at the same time. We got back to Nigeria in the same month and have lived in Lagos since then. She got married a year before I did and fortunately for us, our husbands became great friends after we introduced them. I was pretty relieved to have something distract me from the numbers and logistics that crowded my mind for about four hours. “Hey babe” I answered enthusiastically. “Madam, wait for me to offer you a cow before you deem it fit to check on me oo” she responded in a feigned accusatory tone. “Pele baby. I have valid excuses but I’ll spare you the details. Ma binu. I owe you lunch. Just let me know where and when, and I’ll make it happen” I was sure the food deal would work. My friend is such a foodie and after two kids, she has absolutely no excess tissue to show for both facts. She laughed at my offer and as I predicted, accepted it. We talked about a lot of things, from work to the kids and even to the trip we’d both been planning for our families for over a year now. Halfway into pleading with her to send me some of the Ijebu garri her grandmother had just sent her, she interrupted me.. “Abeg! Before I forget my main reason for calling you, my wedding anniversary is around the corner. Lekan and I have decided to throw a party and babes, there’s no me without you oo. I know you’re better with details and these kinda things in general” she said in a pleading tone. “Whoop! Whoop!! Oga go and look for an event planner oo. My own is to come and eat on the ‘D’ day.” Of course I would help out; she didn’t need to ask. We spoke for a little while longer and I went back to my work.

The next two weeks got busy for me. Nini took ill so I had to cater for her while simultaneously running my business and planning Dami’s party. I could bet I had lost a pound or two. My baby was responding well to treatment so I was becoming somewhat relaxed. I just received a call from the lady who would most likely be the one to provide the meat recipes for the party and I was to meet her at Ikeja to discuss how things should work. Nini had just come home from the hospital where she was admitted and luckily for me, my mum had come over two days ago to help me out. Content that my child would be alright, I dashed out to make my appointment. After being stuck in traffic for an hour, I had to refill my fuel tank. I drove into the nearest fuel station and got in line. Before the next minute ran out, I noticed the Benz directly in front of me on the queue. I really don’t know how to name labels but I know a sleek car when I see one and this Benz was smoking hot. I was gushing to myself about how I need a birthday surprise like this when the Benz rolled forward to the pump. Thank God the line’s moving, I thought checking my time. The sales attendant replaced the nuzzle and tried to cover the tank but was having a hard time. “Na wa oo. Does the car have a special mechanism? Just twist the cork in or something” I mumbled as I honked twice. The driver’s door opened and I figured the person had decided to help the attendant out. That was the last of my thoughts concerning any fuel tank. Standing in front of my car was Amanze. The same Amanze I have been avoiding for nearly four months now. Of course he dealt with the cork in no time and turned to get into his car. For reasons I’d never fathom he glanced in my direction and stopped. He had seen me and I wanted to just disappear. He smiled, shut his door and walked towards me still wearing his smile. I can’t quite remember the facial expression I wore but it must have been awkward because I cannot imagine coming up with a nice one amidst the unease I felt. “I never thought this day would come” he said leaning down on my window. My mind was racing and I was still trying to figure out an appropriate response when shouts erupted behind us. “Make una comot this nonsense make person buy fuel. See this werey. You dey follow woman talk on top queue.” “Gerrout naa…who be this ones naa?” The shouts finally gave me what to say. “You should move your car before we cause a scene here”, I said trying to smile in the bid to allay the awkwardness.

He drove to a clearing towards the exit if the fuel station and parked there. I was next in line so I bought my fuel, all the while dreading the inevitable meeting I was about to have with Amanze. I parked directly behind his car and got down to meet him. He was already leaning on the trunk of his car, waiting for me. He looked pristine in his crisp white shirt and hourglass cufflinks, black pants and brogues. You’d think I’d have neither the time nor inclination to check him out. Well, I did. Before I could gather my thoughts enough to say anything reasonable on reaching him, he smiled and spoke. “Hello Edima. It’s a pleasant surprise running into you here. I was beginning to think Lagos was getting bigger I’d hoped and…” he paused. “You look great.” It sounded like he meant to say something other than great. I smiled back at him and to my surprise it was an authentic smile that meant I was truly glad to see him. Imagine the irony. I had been avoiding this man for four months and here I was glad that he’d run into me on a random day. I bit the insides of my mouth; probably an unconscious act to chastise myself. “Hi Amanze. Thank you. How are you?” I asked as I held out my hand for an intended brief handshake. “I’d be crazy not to be fine now. How’s your family and work?” he asked still holding unto my hand. “Great. Everything’s great. How’s your end?” “Business is good although I almost fired the Chef that prepared your order that day we met. Why pay him so much if a woman with such fine taste in food couldn’t come back even one more time to have another bite?” he laughed. So he was the owner of the place after all. Frankly I was not surprised; he looked like the man who might even have more going for him. “Aha! So it’s your place after all. Do you fire all your chefs for every customer that doesn’t come back in four months?” I asked sarcastically. “Look who’s counting. And I thought you’d probably forgotten all about me and my food” he said with an undertone of victory in his voice. “Good taste buds never forget great food. It’s funny how food beats people to it sometimes.” I was somehow enjoying the witty banter and the subtle flirting. He laughed so hard at my last retort. “Perhaps when next you come around, I’d personally make you one of my specials. That way you’d probably be forced to remember the food alongside the Chef” he said folding his arms across his chest and leaning back as if to get a better look at me. “You sound very sure I’ll be running back to your restaurant.” “I’m not quite sure ‘running’ is the right word but you’ll be back. I’ll try all the tricks in my hat to accomplish that one. Perhaps we’d start by exchanging numbers, if it’s not too much trouble” he said smiling. His eyes were brighter than I remembered them to be but that smile was just as striking as I recall. His white teeth and full lips and the unintentional confidence he reeked of. “I’d be a jerk to say no yes?” I asked knowing well what the answer would be. “Yes”. We exchanged numbers and shook hands again as we said goodbye. He walked me back to my car and stood by while I got in. “Lady those are some badass wheels” he said with his attention on my tires. “Thank you. My husband got them for me” I blurted before I could stop the second part from coming out. “Ah yes!” he said in a manner that seemed as though he’d just remembered that I am married. I honestly don’t know why I said that. It was probably my subconscious trying to protect my so-called marriage. I looked at him from my rear mirror as I drove out. He was walking back to his car with a content look on his face.  I knew once again that this was shaky ground and that I had to be careful with this one.

I woke up on the Saturday of the party without any excitement. You’d think that after all the weeks Dami and I have spent running around that I’d be nervous, to say the least, about how everything would play out. Nonetheless, I got around to the things I had to do. I made a couple of phone calls to ensure the vendors were on track. It was a house party so we didn’t really need décor. Dami had a beautiful home with a lovely garden that would work just fine. I spent some time with Nini; it took me about an hour and 30 minutes to weave her full, natural hair into some style that I have no name for. She looked pretty and that’s all that matters. By the time we’d finished, it was already 1pm and I knew I had to hurry. I called the matron at my other kids’ school at 1.30pm so that I could speak with them as was our ritual. As you’d imagine, this ritual didn’t include their father who had not called me in two weeks. The few times, I’d tried, I got his machine and I just wasn’t given to all that drama so I faced other things. Just as I was about to step into bathroom, my phone rang. It wasn’t anyone whose number I had. I muttered a complaint as I picked up the call. I was already running late for my appointment with Dami. We had to go pick up the small chops. Thankfully, he husband was in charge of the drinks and music. “Hello” I answered a little irritably. “Good day Edima. It’s Amanze. You sound like it’s a bad time. Is it?” Butterflies I hadn’t realized lived in mu tummy suddenly came to life. I’d have known he was the one even if he hadn’t introduced himself. It was like some voice recognition program had been set in place. “Oh hi… Umm…How are you? I’m sorry, it’s not exactly a bad time. I just have a place to be tonight and I need to be on my way as soon as possible” I explained with a slight plea. “I can understand that. I can always call you back tomorrow. I’ve got an engagement myself.” “My apologies once again” I said applying my face mask. “No worries. Let’s blame Saturdays. They used to be a lot less busy for us all” he responded with a laugh. “Very well then, take care” I replied and dropped the phone on my table without waiting for him to drop the call. With a lot of effort, I ignored the butterflies still doing back-flips in my tummy over a man they didn’t know, and stepped into the bath tub. It was a quick shower since I knew I’d spend a quite some time making up and styling my hair. I quickly held my braids into an up-do and got my face done. For my eyes, I went for a smoky effect using nude shades and my mac lipstick in “media” worked its wonder as usual. I have to admit I loved who I saw in the mirror. I wore a fitted peek-a-boo blouse with lacy sleeves and a flared midi skirt with sandals and a pair of dropping earrings. I’d gone for simple and gorgeous and my mirror told me I’d chosen well. The colors sat well on my skin and matched my make-up. I got my car keys and purse and headed out. Nini insisted I had two spoons of her jollof rice before leaving and I hoped I still had some mint gums in my car.

The traffic was light and in no time, all the food had been brought to the venue. It was 4pm already so I asked Dami to go get dressed. I stayed around making sure all the elements were in place. I didn’t want any stone to be left unturned and in the next hour everything was set. By 5.30pm, the guests began to show up in trickles. I did a lot of hugging and pecking and serving that I’d already begun to feel tired. I quickly got myself a plate of rice and shredded beef sauce and went to the guest room to eat. I knew I’d be busy organizing stuff when the event was in full motion, at least until the VIPs were all attended to. So this meal was intended to be a life saver. The sauce was amazingly tasty and creamy. I soon got out noticing that the place was getting packed. The next two hours were really busy for me. The couple had made a grand entrance; thanks to the D.J and the M.C. When I thought things were pretty much great enough for me to hands off, I sent a waiter to get me a bottle of chilled white wine and a glass. I quickly spotted an empty and surprisingly secluded area around where the family cars were packed. Two randomly placed chairs were there and for some reason it was dark. Perfect spot! I quickly retrieved the wine and glass and headed off to my haven. I quickly took off my shoes as soon as I sat down and placed my feet on the other seat. I opened the bottle of wine and took a swig, totally ignoring the fact that I had a wine glass. After a couple of more swigs, I leaned back and let the effect of the wine kick in. I was slightly tipsy and very tired, and with nothing else to do, I slept off. 

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I am really glad that I have finally posted the long awaited 4th part of these series. I apologize for the delay and hope that the latter parts will come in quick successions. If you have not read the previous parts, do not fail to click on the following links.

1. THAWED PT 1
2. THAWED PT 2
3. THAWED PT 3

I'd love to read your comments below and to have to re-share the links on social media platforms. I hope it was a great read. Where do y'all think this is going by the way?

xoxo,

Nazzy

THAWED Part 3

I have no proprietary rights to this photo. Unknown source

My life fell back into place except that my palette kept craving the exquisite meals from Nri- that’s the name of the restaurant where I met him- and my mind kept replaying jokes and witty banters from that evening. It’s been over a month and I have succeeded in not being able to forget Amanze- contrary to my plans. I am grateful for my ego that has prevented me from walking into that restaurant and making a big fool of myself. I also thank common sense for not letting me ask for his phone number that day. I have tried to push that meeting out of my mind and life like I promised myself I would but each time I pass that building on my way to work, I can’t help looking up to the window where I last saw him. Of course, he has more important things to do than stand all day waiting for me to pass by. Only idiots like me- married idiots- go around looking up at windows to find non-existent people. The strangest thing however, is that that vase never left the window sill and it always had different flowers in it. Like I said before, that man was too smooth for his own good. Anyways, I knew better than to come any closer than I already was. Besides, my husband came home about four days after I met Amanze.

Truthfully, I was glad to have him home. Amidst all my complaints and heartache, I must have forgotten to mention that I love my husband. I am not sure about being in love with him but I do not believe that love is just a feeling. I chose to love him so I do. He certainly doesn’t awaken my butterflies but he holds the keys to some of my best memories and of course, I made four amazing humans with him. That means something in my books. So he came home after months of being away for God knows what. At first, I was glad that he was alright but each time I remembered what he put me through during his absence, I grew mad at him. The striking thing is that when he was absent, I was fine. I was numb, remember? I didn’t care enough to be mad. I channeled all I had into being a mum, making good money, indulging my taste buds and just being another woman trying to remember what happiness feels like without allowing pain anywhere near her. I hadn’t even realized that there was anything to be mad at until another man reminded me of what it feels like to be noticed, indulged, taken care of and perhaps wanted. I didn’t care to feel all these things if I was not going to be allowed to have them. And that was maddening. Howbeit, I kept my cool. I have always been good at that. I took care of him and made sure he got to spend some time with the kids. Two years ago, we had a huge fight in which I clearly stated that I could tolerate being ignored but wouldn’t if thought he could do the same to my kids. I even threatened to give him a divorce and take full custody of my kids if he kept neglecting their paternal needs. By the time he got calls from two of my lawyers within three days, he knew that I wasn’t to be messed with on that matter. Needless to say, he made extra efforts when it came to the kids. He would always check his time when he was playing video games with the boy or excuse himself to take short phone calls when he was playing chess or monopoly with the girls but it was obvious he spent a great deal of himself trying to keep it up. If my kids were okay, then I would stay. We spent lesser time together; I guess he gave the kids what extra time he might have had for me but I was too frozen to be bothered.

This time around, I could feel myself creating more distance between him and myself. Usually, I’d put up a front and try to be all over him but I put in no effort this time. He probably sensed it and his play boy instincts were aroused. You know that primal trait that draws men to things that appeared inaccessible, that was probably it because I can’t think of any other reason why he came home one evening bearing a box of my favorite chocolate, midnight blue lace lingerie by Victoria secret and a pair of red bottom Loubs. The day before I was making my afro into two-strand twists in preparation for bedtime when he called me “Ima”. That’s the word for ‘love’ in Ibibio, our native dialect. He had just walked into our bedroom after spending some time with the kids. Eno, Nsikak and Aniekan had come home from boarding school for the weekend.  Eno and Kaka (Nsikak) are the boys and are older than Nini (Aniekan) and Didi (Edidiong) who’s the baby of the house. She’s just seven and she keeps me company and busy when the rest of the family are away. They couldn’t imagine not being able to see their day on his first visit in five months. Eddy had gotten them loads of stuff; books, games, clothing etc and they were elated. Yes, Eddy is my husband’s name. Actually, it’s Edikan but his friends and colleagues call him Edikan. I used to call him baby until it started to sound foreign and odd on my tongue. So I just joined others in calling him Eddy. Right! So he walked into the room and said “Ima, …” Frankly, I didn’t hear the rest of it because I burst into laughter. I found it absolutely amusing that a man would be away for five months, call weekly or even bi-weekly, doesn’t text, hasn’t called me anything but Edima in two years, hasn’t touched me in almost a year would return and suddenly call me his love after I’ve decided not to care about any of the above. He stood there gaping at me while I continued twisting my hair still amused. He must have been embarrassed because he walked into the bathroom where he stayed until I finished my twists and went to Didi’s room to read her Bible stories, as is our tradition.

That next day, I was literally astonished. All the signs were in place; my mouth was hanging wide open, my eyes were almost popping out of their sockets and Most of all, I was dumbfounded as I stared at Eddy holding out his presents to me. I certainly knew what to do with chocolate and Christian Louboutin shoes but what did this Mr. expect that I’d so with the oh-so-beautiful lace lingerie? Who told him that we still have that kind of chemistry? I must have been thinking for myself because he came unto me muttering under his breath about how he knew he must have hurt me all this years. I was quite disgusted. I picked up the box of chocolate, said “thanks” and headed for the door. Just before I left the room, I couldn’t resist turning back to mention how he didn’t hurt me because I didn’t give him the luxury of doing so. He stood there visibly shocked; he had never seen me react in that manner. He could feel the anger seething beneath the surface and the coldness underlined it just like I hoped it would. A few hours and twenty-four chocolates later, I returned to find him asleep after he had dropped a note on my pillow. The note said he got a call the previous day and needed to go to Ghana for three months for some mega project. He said he understood that I have made great sacrifices for us and deserved better. He said he just wanted the night to be special. After reading the note, all I could think was that he had no idea whatsoever about what I had or had not sacrificed. I went into the bathroom, washed my face and a few tear drops away and went to bed. I had imagined that someday, something would cause me to start feeling again but I had envisaged it would be him awakening the love and intimacy we shared, and I imagined it would feel good. I never thought I’d ever be open to pain again. Nobody told me that another man would crack the glass or that Eddy making advances at me would be repulsive rather than endearing. Nobody told me that what looked like a gesture that I had always prayed for in years past would feel like vomit thrown in my face. I could feel the ice melting and all the rage and pain that were frozen were frothing over the surface. The next morning, I decided to act as if nothing happened the previous night. I chose to give him the treatment I had always given him. I had always performed my duties in silence and without warmth. I could give everything except warmth; I didn’t have it to give anyways. I had run out of warmth almost five years before now. I helped him pack all what he would need, got the kids to calm down and drove us all to the airport. Just before he boarded, he gave the adults (that’s what we call the ones in secondary school) some money, hugged them tight and whispered something into Didi’s ears that made her stop crying. When he walked up to me, he was about to say what I sensed would be mushy so I stopped him from going any further. “You’re running late” I said and dusted the lapel of his jacket. I was about to go for a hug when he lifted my chin and kissed me. It was a long, bland kiss but I obliged him if that would leave me with some peace. He hadn’t kissed me in almost a year, and it felt like the entire flavor had been lost with time. 

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Hello darlings. I hope you love how the story is unfolding. Pt 4 is on its way. 

Anyways, I traveled home and it feels great to be with family. they are simply everything.

P.S- My laptop fell and some parts cracked and a few places got chipped. Its a Lenovo S400 Touch ideapad. I need to know if it's possible and what it'd take to change the carcass/casing/exterior. Its urgent. Kindly help me out. This laptop is my prime possession. More than half of me is literally saved in it. I have literally shed tears...and I need to do something asap. Biko....

I hope you are all having a great week.

xoxo,

Nazzy

THAWED Pt 2

                source: blenderartists.com

“I think it worked. May I sit please?” My mouth was full so I just nodded to the man standing before me. He sat comfortably and flashed a grin. I just kept on chewing slowly and waiting for him to say something but he simply said nothing. After I swallowed, I took a sip of wine, wiped my mouth and broke the silence. “Was the champagne from you” I asked with sincere curiosity. “Yes. It was and I think you certainly look happier. I’m hoping it’s the wine.” His gaze was piercing like when someone wasn’t getting a good look at something and was pouring more effort into looking at it. “It’s not just the wine. The food’s great too.” I replied in the bid not to give him all the credit for the beautiful evening I was having. Truthfully, I wasn’t happy just because of his gesture; I had bottles of Dom Perignon sitting in my bar at home but he definitely scored good points on the scale. I scrutinized him as he sat silent looking smug. He wore an adire jumper dominated by the color green and a pair of mahogany-brown loafers. He wore a plain gold chain on his right wrist and a TAG Heuer wristwatch I couldn’t help but notice on his left wrist. There were no rings and it wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t mention that he smelled like heaven on a man. Go figure. The last time I was this taken by a man’s scent, I was in university, he was my best friend and I slept hugging his jacket for months. Yes, the very same jacket and no, the scent didn’t leave. Don’t ask whether I washed it cuz I did not. Anyways, it’s needless to tell you that amidst his simplicity, he reeked of class. The kind of man you’d see standing in front of a hotel and ignore until the valet brought his car to him. He wasn’t strikingly handsome but I thought he looked pristine. He wore an afro trimmed at the sides, and neat side burns that ran down his profile to his beards. None of the bushy beard gang drama that seems to be in vogue was going on there. His eye brows were full and well aligned. His lips were full with an undertone of pink. I was able to take note of his height before he sat and he was quite tall; about my husband’s height. That means that without heels, I’d be just about four inches above his shoulder. His teeth were perfect; I always, always check out the teeth. So he wasn’t strikingly handsome but he had my attention alright. I caught myself studying staring at him and quickly thought of something witty to say.

Unfortunately, all I could muster was “So it wasn’t the man in the cubicle then?” “You must be good at math.” he replied visibly amused by what he figured must have been me trying to say something clever. I laughed at myself. Apparently, he had caught me and his sarcastic retort didn’t go unnoticed. I might enjoy this conversation, I thought and decided to drop my defenses and have this potentially interesting dialogue. “I like sarcasm on a man who knows how to wield it.” I said honestly in between mouthfuls. Of course I went back to my meal. “Yes? I guess we’re different. I like it coming from dogs. Its special cuz they can’t talk” he laughed lightly. I offered him some of my wine but he declined politely; something about not interrupting a lady’s greatness. “So you’re not the guy from the cubicle” I said giving him a cue for some proper introduction. “No I’m not. That’s Mr. Eno. He’s a regular. He probably doesn’t look it but he’s not big on wine. He’s more of a fruit juice-shakes kinda guy.” “I find it interesting that you’ve told me everything about that fine young man and you haven’t even dropped your name by mistake.” How did he even know who was a regular and who wasn’t? I was pretty sure he wasn’t in the room when I tried to find who the gift was from. He laughed and shook his head. “My apologies ma’am. My name’s Udoka Amanze. I hail from Imo state and I absolutely love your smile.” This time, he didn’t smile, as if he was trying to convince me that that wasn’t just another pick up line. This guy was too smooth for his own good. “I’m Edima and I’m married.” He caught the not-so-subtle hint and leaned back. “Of course. Your ring is quite visible. I mean, that diamond is nearly blinding. If it helps, I used to be married.” He said with a shrug. I almost asked what happened with his marriage and caught myself before it fell out. It was none of my business. “You must be proud of your home. Tell me about it. Any kids?” I liked how he asked these sensitive questions with a touch of innocence and a great deal of sincere curiosity. At least, that’s how it seemed. Thank God he specifically mentioned the kids because I certainly didn’t want to talk about my husband. “Yes, I have kids. Four. Two soldiers, two princesses” I could literally feel myself glow. I never spoke about my kids without that glow spurring from the pride that made my heart swell. “Four? Who would have thought?” he asked surprised. “You barely look as though you’ve had any. It’s really admirable” he complimented. “Well, if I keep coming to this restaurant, I won’t be able to keep it up for long. The food is amazing. You probably know that. I mean, you know the regulars…and you sent me wine without being visible. You either stalking the people here or you definitely know your way around her and how to go unnoticed while you’re at it.” “Yes, the food here is amazing but I’m sure you can handle it. And no, I don’t stalk people here. The cameras just make it easy to see what goes on here” he pointed at about two lenses that had gone unnoticed before now. “That explains it. So you work here. Chef?” I thought he had the sophisticated air of Chefs. Maybe not. Maybe I was just lavish with my graces tonight, probably from lack of attention. “Yes, I work here but I’m not a chef.” Honestly, he was quite easy to talk to. We talked about food, my kids, politics in Imo state, how married folks in Lagos forget many times that they are married and how husbands are never caught because they can blame their late homecoming on the traffic on the third mainland bridge. There was a lot of laughter and a few awkward moments of prolonged eye contact and seconds of silence. He was very accessible; it felt like he was holding nothing back. On the other hand, I was trying not to give away too much about myself and honestly, it was pretty exhausting. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, a woman,probably in her sixties, walked up to our table. Apparently, she was here for him and I could see the admiration she had for him in her eyes. "Mr Amanze, thank you for the other day. I don't know what I'd have done without you" He just grinned at her and said "Now you're embarrassing me. You deserve better ma'am. You should order today's special...on the house of couse" "Very well son. God bless you" and she laid a hand gently on his shoulder before moving to one of the empty tables towards the end of the room. Something about that little exchange moved me. It was obvious that he had done something for the lady that she considered a great deal while he on the other hand didn't consider it as such. He was a helper and I couldn't ignore that. Of course, I didn't ask what it was about; it was none of my business. He carried on with the conversation as if there was no break at all. We talked about places we had both traveled to. We even found out we had two mutual friends and that we both hate popcorn. After about two hours and not a few glares from customers who probably taught we should get a room, I checked my iphone screen to see what time it was. He also turned to his wristwatch and we both smiled. “I should get going” I said, secretly wishing there was more time. I was surprised at myself for thinking that. I was not in the habit of enjoying the company of men; I barely let them close. I didn’t even really notice them. The special ones were like cute dogs; notice them, flash them a smile and forget once they walked past me. But this night, this man had put a crack in my castle of ice. It was probably for the best that the evening had come to an end. There was certainly a reason, I stayed away from craving all this warmth and it was probably for the best. I suddenly couldn’t wait to leave. What was I even thinking at first? I was married with responsibilities and I couldn’t afford to have this particular man around me. That’s right, this particular man.

“You suddenly look uneasy” he said breaking into my thoughts. “No, I’m fine. I just need to get home to my baby girl. Thank you for the wine. Have a lovely evening.” I said rising. I didn’t wait for him to say anything. I picked up my bag and left him at the table. The ride down the elevator felt long with me replaying the entire evening in my head. A pang of fear struck me in the chest. There was something different, wonderful and scary about this man. And I chose to stay away. Just before I got into my car, I looked up at the building and there he was looking down at me with my flowers still sitting on the window sill. I got in, started the car and as soon as the engine purred to life, I drove away without looking back. I had decided; I was going to forget Udoka Amanze and gosh, I’d miss their recipes.

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Hello Readers. I hope you enjoyed the second part. Sit tight and look out for the this part. Click here to read THAWED (Part 1) if you haven't read it. I'd love to see your comments with respect to how the story is unfolding...

P.S- This was supposed to be flash fiction and although it might be slightly longer than intended, it will be a short one. Brace yourselves for impact.

I hope you all had a beautiful holiday.

xoxo,

Nazzy

THAWED. Part 1

                                                                      source: blenderartists.com

I am numb. I do not feel pain and that’s the only reason I’m thriving. This has nothing to do with physical pain; I have a really low threshold for that one. After my fourth child, I decided I could not deal with labour pains again. Give me some credit. If three are a crowd, then I certainly pushed boundaries with four. I am not here to talk about my kids so let’s move on.

Last week Tuesday was my 15^th wedding anniversary. I expected nothing to happen and I wasn’t disappointed. When you expect too much for so long and get absolutely nothing every time, you learn to look away when the ice cream van passes through. My husband isn’t a bad man. I wish I could say he was so that there’ll be justification for my feelings. He’s just a bad husband and a caring but absent father.

We met as though we were from a story book; actually, he bumped into me on my way from the library. Cliché? I know. Everything else followed just like you would expect it to. He was charming, caring, supportive and most of all, not too busy. Sometimes, I like to think that he still has all these things somewhere inside of him but I probably do not get to see them because he’s a busy man. He is busy being the CFO of one of the biggest retail chains in Africa and I wouldn’t be the insensitive wife standing in the way of that. Now would I?

At first, it was hurtful not seeing your husband in months, getting five phone calls in a week, getting flowers and chocolates on birthdays and holidays from the same delivery boy who begins to look at you with pity after some time. At first, I would cry from being alone, sex starved and invisible. It was horrible. To be fair, he grins at me whenever our eyes meet, and he takes me to his corporate dinners and plants wet pecks on my cheeks each time he introduces me to his elite friends. Oh and whenever I wear my afro in a huge puff, he always says “Nana, I like this hairstyle on you”. I haven’t heard “you’re beautiful” or “I love you” in ages so each time I want to hear a compliment, I quickly pack my afro into a huge bun. Weird? I know.

After some time, the pain stopped. I just stopped crying and trying to be visible. I accepted insignificance and channeled what strength I had left to my kids. I am a full time mum; the shop where I sell shoes and make-up is just a part-time venture. It’s for those days I don’t wanna stay holed up at home or for when I feel special enough to wear makeup and glam clothing. I like to take drives and I have an array of benz models to pick from and each time I hit the streets, I’m visible to everyone. I see it in their eyes the look of wonder as they appraise my hair, clothes, car, shoes and even kids. I do know how to put on a good show. But all of it doesn’t matter because the one person who’s supposed to see me only sees dollar bills.

I love fancy food. It’s one of the things that help me stay numb. The pleasure my taste buds experience when enveloped by strange, exotic flavors zaps through my body and fills the spaces that would otherwise have been filled with the pain. Bliss is the only word for it. My relationship with haute cuisine is the closest thing I have to a marriage. I used to work out a lot and take yoga classes so that I’d be fit and sexy and perhaps, visible and alluring. But again, I put that to rest. The other day, my last baby walked up to me and said “Mum, I think you should start going to the gym again. You might get fat and I don’t want that. My teacher says you are a hot mum and I want you to continue being hot”. I just stared at her with my jaws hanging wide. The next day, I called the gym to reactivate my membership card. I haven’t dropped by since then though.

So on this day, I sat at one of my favorite restaurants in V.I. It is on the 6^th floor of an 8-storey building and the view was amazing.  I love to look at Lagos from above and the waters are always a plus. I was waiting for my order to arrive: bacon-wrapped pork loin with peach and blue cheese stuffing. It took over an hour to prepare so I came prepared with a novel written by a veteran Kenyan novelist. Let’s not even start with my love for African literature. I had chosen a sit by the window and moved the vase of fresh flowers to the window sill. I loved how I caught a whiff of their scent each time the wind blew in. I caught my reflection in the glass hanging opposite me and was just thinking about how my kinky fro wouldn’t allow the wind to make my hair fly with it. I was just about to smile wryly to myself and turn back to my book when a waiter dropped a bottle and flute on my table. I looked up at him and he just smiled and handed me a small white piece of paper. He nodded and walked away. I looked at the bottle and it was a Krug NV Grand Cuveé. That’s a $200 bottle of champagne. I had only had it once and it was heaven. I quickly opened the note and it read “you look sad. People usually look happier drinking good wine. J.”  I looked down at my left hand. I was wearing my wedding ring and trust me when I say it’s far from unnoticeable. I wondered who would have sent me the bottle of wine. And did I really look that sad? I guess there’s more damage than I thought. I scanned through the room for anyone that looked like they just sent a strange woman an expensive bottle of wine. I am not sure there’s a way the person was supposed to look but I couldn’t pin down anyone. There were just a few people in the restaurant. As expected not everyone would be able to afford the internationally-acclaimed chefs that run the place, or the marbled tables and Italian leather chairs and sofas or even the expensive bottles of wine like the one standing right before me. I looked around more carefully this time. There were three couples and I doubt it came from any of the three men. There was a middle-aged woman around the corner and I am sure women don’t just buy each other expensive French wine on normal days in Lagos. Just as I was about to turn away, I noticed the group of cubicles towards the bar. They were half-hidden by pots of plants and china sculptures standing as though they were protecting that territory. This was my 7^th time in the restaurant and I had never seen people sitting in the cubicles. I guess I just assumed subconsciously that there’d be no one there. But there was in fact, a man sitting there smugly raising was I supposed would be chicken or turkey dipped in some fancy sauce, to his mouth. I am almost sure I saw him smile at me before he turned back to his meal. It had to be him. I

I turned back to my book but as you must have guessed, no words from this Kenyan jumped at me. I was surprisingly flustered. Usually, I pushed advances away with a kind of polite coldness that I could bet, felt worse to the receivers than the normal front they’d have expected the average woman would put up. But here I was thinking that this stranger was sweet. Nobody had done this kind of thing for me in years. The only person who once did was currently in South Africa and hadn’t reached me in three days.  Typically, I’d call the waiter and ask him to send the bottle back to the person who had sent it but instead I opened the bottle and poured myself some of that golden goodness. It was heaven in a bottle. I leaned back and opened by book. This time, the words flew at me crystal clear. If this John Doe didn’t want to introduce himself and thought I should look happy drinking excellent French wine, I guessed I could oblige him. Just then, my meal arrived and I dug in. I registered every sensation; the tenderness and moistness of the pork and the velvety feel of cheese sliding along me tongue. This was definitely worth every thousand I paid. Ed Sheeran’s voice flowed from the speakers and I grinned. It was the song “thinking out loud” and I think I just raced to the moon and back. Here, they usually played fancy genre of music that I personally cannot relate to but think are fit for the class of food and people they serve. I began to sing along in low tones in between mouthfuls. Gosh! I was in the mood. Everything was perfect in those moments and I held on.

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Hey there Negriville! I hope you had a good read. The second part will be published tomorrow or the day after. Kindly re-share the post, drop your comments and Tell us your own story if you think its related. Don't forget that you can comment as anonymous if you think the info you want to release is sensitive.

The new website/blog is practically ready and entries for the "bold enough" series are being compiled. Kindly send in your tales of love, passion, love, hurt, struggles and triumph. Be bold enough to have your story make a difference in lies all over africa and the world at large. 

The change we need lies in our mouths and inks.

xoxo,

Nazzy.

TaRnIsHeD

Love at first sight...
That's what he called it.
I call it blindness- temporary blindness- for in the end, he received his sight.
And then he saw me for what I really am...
What he thinks I really am.  

It was sunny and bright.
Nolan was at mama's and I was free.
Today was for me; for the 'me' I had lost.
I took a walk to the park.
The green gave me life.
The chrips were music to my ears.
The echoes of laughter were healing to my sullen state of mind.
Cold nostalgia swept over me as I walked into the arena...
That's what I call it.

Here, its an ocean of lotus and white roses.
The wind brags as my short white dress billows.
A smile works its way into my face and a moan escapes my lips...
Here, I am strengthened by the scent of purity.
Cold nostalgia washes over me as I think of Nolan and the days before him.
I immersed myself in comfort exuded from the petals..
Lost myself in the arms of mother nature.  

A shadow fell over me.
With my eyes closed, I could sense an invasion.
My haven had been troubled and my anger triggered.
I looked up to find a man staring, his mouth ajar in awe.
The pupils swirled like a whirlpool; in wonder I presume.
My anger dissipated into confusion.
Why was this creature here, looking into my soul?

That day it began.
That day passion was kindled.
That day I misunderstood.
This had to be love, in all its splendour.
When it wasn't Nolan, it was the shadow.
I opened the floodgates, and gave everything.
He was the one who would see what no other saw in me.  

Laughter filled my belly.
Poetry filled my ears.
Kisses covered my skin.
Passion blurred my vision.
In this was promise.

Tonight was for us.
As I combed through my lashes and adjusted my bow, I promised to show the last of me tonight. Nolan.
My shadow, I was sure, would see what no one saw.  

I walked into the restaurant to find him on his knee,
A ring clad with diamonds in his hand.
The strong melody of a stringed instrument bounced off the walls.
Light shone around him as darkness made a hedge around the beam.
With glistening eyes and near-exploding nerves he asked me to be his bride...
For a minute, all I could think of was Nolan.
Would he take us both?
'Yes'... I said 'yes'.
The room reverberated with claps as light ate up the darknss.
Surprises. I love them.
The world had witnessed it all.

I pulled him to a quiet corner.
"You should know something"
"What is it my love?" he asked as he kissed my face playfully.
My pulse quickened as the words clogged my throat.
I held unto faith that this would be perfect.
"I had no idea that you would propose tonight. I hoped to show you something else. Nolan. He's my son. He's a beautiful child. I..." I was interrupted by change.
He froze.
The kisses stopped and he held me still as he looked into my eyes.
It felt as though shards of ice pierced through my skin.
His touch suddenly burnt my skin.
His gaze was cold like death.
The scales fell from his eyes and he walked away.
He saw what others saw.
A tarnished woman.  

I stood there watching him and his friends talk.
Must have been about me.
I saw one shake his head and another snap his finger.
Shadow gulped down something in a glass and threw the glass on the wall.
He forbade me, Rejected me, abhorred me.
I was soiled... 'Mother of a bastard'.
His friends patted his back as he cursed the knowledge of me in regret.
A tear ran down my cheek leaving a trail of pain.
Insanity tore through me and I wailed.
I ran wildly, calling for Nolan.
Nobody cared enough to run after me.
Nolan was outside waiting for me.
I had asked a friend to hold him there.
I was supposed to bring him in after I told 'Shadow'.

I took my son in my arms and wept uncontrollably.
'Mama' he kept calling, his little hands all over my face.
They had seen a lie.
For my miracle, he saw a curse.
For my blessing, he saw a burden.
He saw everything but me;
The 'me'  worthy of love,
The 'me' he could love,
The 'me' that was true,
The 'me' he would never have.  

The ring suddenly felt like a yoke.
I pulled it off and threw it blindly into the dark night.
With it, I cast off all the pain.
I wiped my tears, kissed my son and walked away.
..............................................................................................................................................................
We live in a society that thrives on stereotypes. An unmarried pregnant woman has to be a slut. A well groomed young man is most likely gay. We are forced align our lives with often baseless beliefs which are meant to curb decadence.
We forget that in life, things are not black or white. Some things are grey and should be treated as such. I am not making excuses for people who have careless sexual relations. I am only saying that sometimes, stories and motives differ. An unwanted baby is enough consquence. The society should cease to inflict more pain on mother and child.
People have diverse beliefs and I respect that. While you do not want to marry a single mother or father, you need not hurt them to prove that.
Recently, I was having a conversation with my mum and aunts and everyone started to dissect a young unmarried woman who recently had a baby. I had to come to her rescue, not because her actions are morally upright but because she is human and makes mistakes and has probably learnt a lesson or two. Nobody sees that she may become a more responsible person, a caretaker, a fighter, a teacher, a lover and a breadwinner.

This brings me to the question a friend asked me some weeks ago.
'Who would you rather marry: a divorcee or a single parent?'
Please drop your comments and opinions below..

xoxo,
Nazzy

THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL

Bad days!

They come every now and then and rob us of our plans and fantasies. It’s funny how you make plans for a wonderful tomorrow and get handed a frustrating, awful ‘today’. Today’s just like that. I try to think of all the things that could possibly make today an almost great one but all I can think of is ‘nothing’. The irony lies in the fact that I received a promotion today. Don’t even think of me as ungrateful. Just hear me out.

I woke up with a smile on my face.

Anticipation zinged through me, awakening my nerves and the butterflies in my stomach. Owl City’s awe-inspired voice filled the air; I must have slept without turning off the music. I say my prayers quickly as I cannot afford to run late today. I love my apartment; the colors, the homey atmosphere and the scent. Somehow, it just looked more beautiful this morning. I guess promotions make life more beautiful.

I went to the bathroom to turn on the shower cuz I love my bathroom well humidified before I shower. So while the shower is doing its job, I set out to make a quick breakfast. I decide on noodles and some of the grilled chicken I had in the freezer.

With the noodles on fire and the chicken in the microwave, I return to my room to select the perfect ensemble. The navy blue blazers I got on Jumia should do the trick. I just had to find the right bottoms and shoes. I had just decided on cream pants and my maroon brogues when I smelt it. My food was burnt! I quickly dashed to the kitchen and there, was my pot of noodles all black and burnt.

No! Undaunted in the face of mishap, I turn off the cooker and move the party to the sink to clean up the mess. You think you know stubborn until you try to wash heavily burnt food off a pot. I finally give up and fill the pot with water. ‘The chicken wasn’t bad’ I decided as I ate hurriedly. Time wasn’t on my side anymore.

I was rinsing out the dishes when I heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. That’s normal right? A running shower shouldn’t quite be quiet so I make a quick run to my room to get my shower cap. On getting to the bathroom, all I could see was water. The whole was flooded. Apparently, I hadn’t shut the shower cubicle and the water had sprung directly into the room. This was becoming a bad day. I got on my knees and mopped up the water. After ten minutes of wringing a mop, I got into the shower and scalded myself. I forgot ‘again’ to regulate the temp. I made my decision; ‘This was a bad day”.

After the rushed cold shower, I dressed up as quickly as possible and spent just ten minutes on my makeup. Just so you know, that’s a world record. I grab my car keys and handbag and practically run out the door. “Ashiru, where you dey? I never tell you say I no wan dey find you if I wan comot? I go reduce your salary. Abeg open gate jare” I screamed at the poor gateman who was taking a peaceful nap for lack of work to do. Someone had to partake in the bad morning right? I was almost out of the compound when Ashiru flagged me down. “What is it?” “Madam, I no fit tell you before because you been dey para but e be like say you don dey calm down…” “Ashiru talk fast!” I interrupted impatiently. “Okay ma. Your dress get stain for back. E be like paint. E no good at all”. At this point, all the fluid in my body rush to my eyes. I let the tears fall. What kind of morning was this?

I drove back in and quickly rummaged through my wardrobe to find something new…something worthy of a promotion. I found a dark green dress which I paired with cream court shoes and a briefcase. I quickly turned the contents of my bag into the box and ran wildly to my car after locking up. I had driven for ten minutes when I took a look at my dashboard. The pin of the fuel indicator (I hope that’s what it’s called) was oscillating towards the ‘E’. I was practically out of fuel. I shook my head frantically. I had to believe what had left would take me to work. For Pete’s sake, it had to. I started chanting what I hoped was a prayer. As soon as my office building was in view, I worked up a smile. Things were starting to look up. I hoped aloud that the meeting would not have started. Just then my car jerked once, and again. I quickly pulled up to the curb before it gave up. I grabbed my briefcase and phones and started for the office- on foot! My pace had to be somewhere in between walking and running.

By the time I got to the building, it was ten freaking minutes past ten. Shoot! The meeting had to have started. Imagine my relief when I was told the meeting would kick off in ten. Beads o sweat broke and ran down the sides of my face as I slumped into my chair. I got my emergency make up kit and headed to the ladies for some damage control.

The meeting went well. Thank God. I hope people were not able to see through my plastic smile. After the meeting, I was fed up and angry. This supposedly great day was just plain annoying. I was exhausted and broke down in tears. My colleagues assumed I was crying ‘tears of joy’ and started taking pictures of me; something about preserving the moment. I quickly pulled myself together and excused myself. All those pats on my back had started to feel like slaps. I got downstairs, hailed a cab and asked to be taken to a very good restaurant in Victoria Island.

So yes, that’s how I got here. I am sitting alone by the window on a table for two and have successfully ignored the waitress who came to attend to me, twice. I’m trying to caution myself and remind myself that today is not one for ingratitude when a waiter interrupts my thoughts. The girl must have sent this guy to come try his luck. So I’m now the disgruntled lady who scares waitresses. “Can I take your order ma’am?” “What kind of salads do you have” I asked still staring into space. “We have a number of them. I think you should take a look at the menu” he handed me the one he was holding even though there was one on the table before me. I scanned through it absent-mindedly. “I’ll have the liver salad” I said with a half smile as I passed it back to him. “And some red wine” I added. I sure need a drink. “Coming right up” the waiter said with a smile that implied he wasn’t going to let my stone cold expression deter him. I sent him a cold glance that had him running along.

“Given your mood, I’d say you should change that order. A liver salad will leave you in worse shape” Whose this one? Why can’t people mind their businesses? I turned ready to dash out the poison on the tip of my tongue when I saw him. Calm washed over me. It was a handsome face clad in a navy blue suit and a breath-taking smile. His eyes were light brown in color and twinkled (that has to be the word). His lips mouthed something I believe would be ‘hello’. And then he moved… He moved and sat on the chair opposite mine. He was tall and dashing. He made me forget. I had been trying to feel better for hours but in less than one minute, this stranger had made me forget… Forget that I was angry and was having the worst work day ever. I had forgotten that the earth is constantly in motion because right now, everything was still and blurry except him.

I snapped back into reality as he tapped my hand. “Are you alright? I could take my leave if you’d rather be left alone.” “No…Umm…you should sit right there. I’m just fine” I was admiring his haircut. “Okay then. That’s a good start.” He said with a smile. For the first time after I woke up, I smiled genuinely. I had seen many things and had felt so much today but for a split second, it felt as though the earth stood still…as though everything was just great so yes, that’s a good start.

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I hope you smiled at some point.

xoxo,

Nazzy