“I see you are beaming from ear to ear Temmy,” Funmi teased, drawing me apart from the crowd at the bar.
“Can you blame me?” I laughed. “I can’t help it! Thank you guys for doing this.”
It was Friday night; we were at my going-away party and I was indeed in a great mood. Many of my friends, colleagues at work and my family members were present, and I was enjoying all their love and attention. To my disappointment, the only person who wasn’t there was Lola. She sent me a text to say she had to go to Milton Keynes this evening to sort out some issues going on in her relationship.
“Of course we had to, you deserve a great send-off!” Funmi said. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
I raised an eyebrow, pretending I didn’t know what she meant.
“I’m talking ...
“My flat is ready to be moved into.” I took a gingerly sip of tea, revelling in the slightly bitter taste as it warmed its way down my throat. I had woken up earlier, my throat feeling a bit scratchy. Those were the telltale signs of the flu and right now, being sick wasn’t on my agenda. There was a lot on my plate and I needed all my strength and a clear head to work through them all.
“Are you just going to ignore the elephant in the room?”
“Elephant?” I let out a mock laugh and looked around. “What elephant?”
Michael and I were seated across from each other in the hotel room with some smooth jazz sounds, which I’d put on earlier to help me relax. I knew what he wanted to talk about but I wasn’t ready. I knew it’d been a ...
I was having a bad day. Twice I had snapped at Jean. I had cut the phone on Luther and had done a good job of avoiding Blake all day. I should have called in sick, but I had already done that yesterday and it was a sissy thing to repeat anyway. Not when there were contracts waiting to be reviewed and Blake fussing about them. So I walked around with a scowl and twirled the complementary card Chikwendu gave me, wondering whether it was time to give the lawyer a ring. Wouldn’t it be callous? Folake was discharged from the clinic two days ago after the twenty-four hours observation. She was back at her hotel too. When I spoke to her yesterday evening, she sounded fine . . . and evasive. I thought I heard her ‘friend’ at the background. Such a kind man; helping me care for my wife. The bloody ...
“I don’t want a typical Nigerian wedding,” I blurted out to Ebuka who had a pen and notepad in his hands, trying to make notes of our plans.
“And what’s a typical Nigerian wedding my darling?” He laughed.
“I’m sure you’ve attended loads of them. The one where there are a thousand guests, five hundred of them wearing aso ebi, and mostly unknown to the couple. There’s loud music playing on one corner and the musician is busy singing praises of the list of wealthy people he can get his hands on. Typical Nigerian weddings are carnivals!” I exclaimed.
Ebuka burst into laughter.
“I think you just described a typical Yoruba wedding.” He had a glint in his eyes that signalled the beginning of a teasing episode.
“You’re just being tribalistic,” I pushed him playfully. “I have just described a typical Nigerian wedding, take it or leave it. Do ...
Amazingly, the sliced cucumbers were executing a sort of magic on my eyes. I’d chilled them in my refrigerator for an hour and a half, and then carefully positioned the slices on top of each eye, and voila, the surge of invigoration I felt was unbelievable.
Earlier tonight, the muscles around my eyes had been so sore that I couldn’t sleep. The last thing I needed was to wake up tomorrow, on a beautiful Saturday morning, and decline offers to hang out with my favorite folks, just because of a stupid puffy-eyed morning syndrome. Kene had been telling me to go home at a decent hour, but no, Ms. Perfectionist never listens, but always tries to stay later than usual at the studio.
To try to solve the problem, I flipped through some pages in a magazine I’d selected from my rack. I was more than thrilled when I saw ...
When night falls and you are alone, the moment before you drift off to sleep can be difficult. Your life sometimes flashes through your mind. The emptiness or fullness of it; angst becomes images, worsened if you sleep in a dark room.
It is not the same for couples, I think. I imagine whatever flashes before their eyes as they close them comes with pictures of others. For me, I only have images of myself. Alone. Sometimes clutching air just before sleep takes me away and then I dream of different men; Dayo, Victor and lately Tom.
Ah, Tom, I should tell you about that weekend he visited Victor.
I woke up that Saturday morning excited, ready to start my day. I remember the events of the previous night and felt free. Sending the songs to Dayo and the follow up text is evidence that I am truly breaking away. ...
Hi Temmy, pls see Mr Alderton as soon as you get in. Thanks, Lydia.
I got into the office and found the hastily scribbled post-it note on my computer. Oh dear. Lydia was my boss’ secretary, a rather scattered but nice lady. I wondered what was up as I took of my jacket and switched on my desk-top. Maybe she had forgotten to inform me of some meeting yesterday and I’d missed it. Or due to some problem or the other, I was being made redundant. I thought I should check my emails or list of tasks for any clues before going to see him. I scrolled through my messages; there was nothing unusual. Shrugging off the worried feeling in my stomach, I went to his office. But to my surprise, it was the news I had not even dared to hope I would get. My heart leapt and did ...