"The secret of success is to do the common things uncommonly well."
-John D. Rockefeller.

The blood coloured sweater and black ankle-length skirt she was wearing were damp, hence the cold she was feeling. But that didn't bother her much. Dogs were barking and it was coming from Iby's compound. There wasn't a single soul outside.

He stopped the car under a mango tree, where he thought it was more convenient, and got out the car.

He waited for her to come out too but she didn't. Her eyes were as wide as a rubber band stared
fixedly at the three huge dogs that were tied to a big banga tree. Scary thing was, they had saliva dripping down their mouth as they pant for breath like they'd ran a thousand miles to get there. Another scary thing was the rope used to tie them in place. It seemed weak and was fray. It's going to snap any time.

The worst thing was, the compound had no gate. No frigging gate to climb if the dogs decide to pursue her.

"May?"

She turned to his direction. Seeing the impatient look he gave her. "What?"

"Are you scared of dogs?"

"Me?" She asked, her hand on her chest. "Of course not."

"Come out of the car then."

May scanned the compound well as she got out, clutching her purse tighter because she couldn't afford to lose the money Edric had given her. There was a rusty car, covered in dust with one tire missing and it's windscreen broken. It was parked close to the dogs.

May sucked in a deep breath trying to compose herself and stop her heart from jumping out.

"Which one did you say was your house?" She asked, referring to the seven buildings in front of
them.

"There. The cream-colored one," he pointed at a building that was almost out of view from where they stood. The Banga tree leaves had hidden it.

May gulped. This means they would have to pass the dogs, the car, and the tree, just to get to the house which she didn't want to do.

What kind of dilemma is this? May pondered.

"Do we really need to go to your house? I mean, You could take me somewhere else..."

"Come on, May." Iby prodded, wrapping his hand around her shoulder. "Don't be scared of the
dogs."

"I'm not." She snapped.

He raised his hand up in surrender, "I'm sorry. Whatever you say."

As they got closer, the dogs got angrier. They started barking- again. May tried hard not to look at them but once one of the dogs attacked, the rope, just like she had imagined, split. The one tethered to the tree remained in place.

She screamed an ear-piercing howl.

Iby wasn't scared since it was his neighbor's dog. Instead of the dog biting him, it started licking him and shaking his tail in a greeting.

Iby laughed, playing with the dog who was jumping on him, staining his plain white body hug
t-shirt with dirt. "Take it easy, Bruno."

He turned to look back but reeled as May stood on the car. How the hell did she get there? Did she fly?

Her hand was over her beating chest. Her body, shaking. Her breath, unsteady. It felt like her
spirit had just jumped out of her skin. Damn Bruno.

Iby laughed wholeheartedly. "I thought you said you ain't scared of dogs?"

"I'm not. Just that this one looks scary."

He raised a brow, "Too stubborn to admit it still, huh?"

She didn't reply as she continued breathing heavily not knowing that Iby had a plan.

He carried Bingo and walked closer to the car, while she moved backward.

"Bruno, meet my friend. Her name is May." He snickered, suddenly finding her name funny. "May as in the fifth month of the year. So funny."

"Stop it. It's not."

"Bingo, wouldn't you like to meet her?"

"No. Iby, stop."

"Come and touch him. He doesn't bite."

"No thanks."

"Come on." He pestered, moving Bingo closer. "Haven't you heard the saying that dogs are man's best friend? Trust me he wouldn't bite."

"Eh... let the dog say so first."

Her reply caused him to laugh. He was really having fun.

She stayed glued on top of the car. She wasn't going to come down if he didn't tie the dog back. So he did.

"You can come down now." He informed once done.

She looked at the dogs as if to be sure. "Did you tie it well?"

He laughed. "Of course I did."

She faked a frown, climbing down. "This is not a laughing matter, Iby. Don't play that type of game with me again."

He wrapped his hand around her shoulder again. "Chai, May... I didn't know you could run like that, oh."

She smiled and played along. "Well... you haven't seen anything yet."

"Then tell me."

"Do you know that all the awards Kenyans won, I was the one that brought them those victories? I mean, I am the fastest runner on their team."

He laughed. His chuckles were fruity. He knew she was joking. "I didn't know. You should join the Fast and Furious 6."

She gave him an annoyed look and playfully punched his arm while all he did was laugh.

They got to his one-bedroom flat apartment and he unlocked the burglar-proof padlock. They
entered his balcony where his one-man-carrier generator stood at the left side of it, dripping of
black engine oil.

He shifted his doormat, revealing a set of keys tucked in a key holder. He opened his door, they
both removed their shoes before entering.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Relax and make yourself at home." He told her and she
nodded, smiling and looking around.

He excused himself to use his ensuite.

His room was large enough for a medium-sized bed, two couches, a wooden and well-designed
wardrobe, a round stool, and a table to fit in. On top of the table were books neatly arranged,
headphone, a computer, and cassettes.

Two doors were linked to the room, just opposite each other. The one he had entered, May
already knew was his bathroom and the other, she guessed must be his kitchen.

She was fascinated by the drawings on the cream-colored wall. May had always been a lover of art. Anything art related she saw as magic.

The pencil drawings were beautiful but it was the actual thing drawn that she didn't like.

It was a lady, her hair in a bun, a cigarette in between her lips, and smoke puffing out. Her breasts were drawn way too big for her body and she had a six-pack. Her belly button was tucked inside the muscle and that's where the drawing stopped.

May scrunched her nose. This drawing reminds her of someone. Someone she doesn't want to be reminded of, Bella.

Her eyes shifted to the next drawing which she found to be the worst. A woman and man in a sexual position. It looked like she was being raped cause her hands were tied.

May's stomach churned because she isn't a fan of BDSM. She felt uncomfortable.

Why does he have such obscenities drawn in his room?

The third and fourth drawings she loved, however. She thought the artist had done a wonderful
job drawing a rose that looked like it was dying with its leaves dropping to the floor.

And then, there was Wizkid and Davido drawn facing each other in a challenging manner. It must've been drawn during the time when the Nigerian artistes, Wizkid and Davido were having
some issues-May couldn't remember exactly what-and the social platform had taken it upon
themselves to make memes of, criticize, or insult any party supporting the musician they didn't like.

May was one of them. She remembered browsing on the net two years ago, 'Ten Reasons Why
Davido is Better than Wizkid' and then posted what she found on Facebook. She had had so many people insult her that day because of that single post, and she also fired back, making sure hers were more painful than theirs.

Now she realized she didn't achieve, but her love for Davido still runs deep. His charming smile and dimples.

Not that she didn't find Wizkid handsome. She just doesn't like him like she does David.

She was smiling, running her hand on the drawing when Iby came out in only his trousers and a white singlet. Its armpit area was soaked with sweat.

"You're a fan of David?"

She turned to him. Feeling slightly shy because she was caught staring at her celebrity crush whom she was seventy-seven percent sure that she wouldn't even get a chance to meet in reality aside from watching his music videos and live shows on YouTube. "Yeah. What about you?"

"I prefer Wizkid," he said, taking his seat. "He's more talented."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Whatever. But please let's not compare them. I think they are all good in their own way."

He pressed his lips together, raised his two brows and opened his palms. "Well, if you say so. I
thought you were looking at my pictures on the wall not knowing that you were busy admiring
that bald head Davido." He laughed.

She knew he was trying to offend her, so she didn't take it personally. She grabbed one of his soft pillows from his bed and threw it at him. "Stop it. He isn't bald."

He tried to stifle his laughter. "Okay. Okay. He isn't bald but am I allowed to say that he doesn't
have enough?"

She threw another pillow at him. "Stop it. Do you even hear what you're saying? It's the same thing."

She crossed her arms over her chest, huffed, and frowned until he stopped laughing.

"Okay, he isn't bald." He said when his laughter died down.

Iby pointed behind her and she looked. There was an image of him when he was little. She hadn't noticed it earlier.

"How old were you?" She asked, her brows drawing in as she studied the photo.

"Five or six? I don't really remember." He replied with a shrug.

She hummed in reply.

"Don't I look gorgeous?"

She raised a brow. "Well, I will say a bit cause your head looks bigger here."

He laughed. "What about now?"

"What about what?"

"How do I look now?"

She shrugged, "Not bad."

His smile slightly fell as he looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean by not bad?"

She knew she would be lying if she said he wasn't good looking, she didn't just want to admit it. "I mean you're in the middle to me."

He shook his head thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. "That's fair."

"But I'm serious, you look funny here." She tried not to laugh. He was putting on an oversized
brown suit that seemed a bit faded. Probably because the picture was old.

The sleeves were longer than his hands. The black children specs and the oversized shoes he was putting on was what made the smaller version of him look even funnier.

"The big clothes?" He read her thoughts. "You know how African parents say it right?" When she didn't respond he continued, mimicking his mother's voice. "Don't worry Iby you'll grow into
it and next Christmas, I'll buy you a better one. By the way, you should be happy we even bought you something to wear. Some children don't even have the things that you have."

"Wow! Sounds like you have loving parents."

"They are. Sometimes I just look at that picture and I'm like, 'did I really wear that on Christmas
day'? I can't believe it, but back then we all wore oversized clothes at one point in our lives, that was one of the fun parts of childhood."

May couldn't remember wearing any oversized clothing when she was younger so she contributed nothing. Does that mean she didn't have fun in her days?

As long as she can remember, her parents had money to buy her and Esther the best children's
clothes. Their clothes always matched.

He was wondering why she didn't add something to what he said but he didn't ask why.

They remained quiet for a while before she cleared her throat interrupting the silence. "Where is your photo album? Can I see more?"

"Nope! Unfortunately, that's the only photo I have of my childhood. Well, except that one."

She looked at the image he had pointed at. Eleven unfamiliar faces, wearing jerseys and had
their hands on each others shoulders. They all had on broad smiles, especially the one
stooping down in the middle of the others, a ball in hand.

May recognized him as none other than the only Ibiyemi Philip she knew, looking cute with his locks.

"I was fifteen," Iby informed. His voice thick with pride "Those are my football teammates. My boys. We took that picture when we won the football match we had with the boys from the next village."

She grimaced. "I'm sure you guys felt like kings that day."

"We felt like more than that." He grinned. His mind replaying the memories.

May wished she could see more pictures of his. It pained her that it was all he had of his childhood memory.

It was too small compared to the one she had in her father's house. All those portraits and
images of Esther and her putting on their best smiles, scattered everywhere in their large sitting
room. She missed all that.

Trying not to start dwelling in the past, her eyes caught the last picture on the wall. "Who's she?
Your girlfriend?"

"Who?" He asked and then realized who she was referring to. The beautiful lady dressed in an Ankara gown. Legs crossed and hands on top of them. Her smile was killer. Her makeup was perfect. The picture was taken in a studio. "My cousin. She's my favorite actually. Her name is Ebiere. You'll meet her one day."

She felt stupid for thinking it was his girlfriend. She sat down in the chair next to his. "She's beautiful."

"Of course she is." He affirmed. "But not as beautiful as you."

"Don't flatter me. I know how I look."

Her reply drew his interest, "How do you look?"

"Ugly."

He noticed she was fiddling with her wristband. "Who said that?"

"Does anyone have to tell me? I already know."

"You don't see how you look-"

"I look at the mirror sometimes, duh"

"Then either your eyes or the mirror is lying."

She rolled her eyes at him and said sarcastically. "With this long skirt I am wearing, I sure look
beautiful."

"Let me show you something."

He stood up, walked to where his books were, and after a minute of searching, brought out an exercise book.

He skimmed through some pages and came to the one he wanted to show her. He gave it to her.

Her right brow shot up and the other, down. She asked, "What?"

"Read aloud," he urged.

She hesitated for a while, looking at him like she expected him to say more. All he did was move
his head towards the book as if reassuring her and asking her to go ahead.

She drew in a deep breath. "You can't go out into the world and ask the world: am I beautiful?
You have to tell the world you're beautiful. You can't wait for anybody else's opinion. The mirror reflects, it doesn't define. You define. The icing on the cake doesn't change the inside. It just
changes the outer surface but the outer surface isn't important. The inside is what's most important. Who you are on the inside. What you are on the inside. Your talent, your potential, how special you are."

She looked up at him, surprised.

"Turn to the next page." He told her and she compiled.

"The beauty of a woman is not by the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes because that is the doorway to
her heart, the place where love resides. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It's the
care that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows. The beauty of a woman only grows in
passing years. - Audrey Hepburn."

Her mouth dropped, "Woah. Where did you copy all this from?"

Standing in front of her, he placed both hands on his hips. A thin smile on his lips. "My cousin.
She's sorta... a motivational speaker and all. Sometimes I help her in writing her speech."

"Wow. Who would've thought that a guy with such lewd drawings on his room walls would love doing stuff like that."

She brought up the topic on purpose to satisfy her curiosity.

"That's why it isn't good to judge a book by its cover and, I didn't say I love doing it. I might say like, but love? No." He sat back tiredly on his seat. "Talking about the drawings, firstly, I drew only the flower. A friend of mine drew the artistes."

"And?" She prodded further.

"The other two, I saw it like that when I moved in."

She nods her head slowly, taking in what he had just said. "You like it."

"Pardon?"

"If you didn't, you would've made an effort to clean it off."

He sighed in exasperation, "I don't have time to repaint it." He defended.

May gave in, "Okay."

Their sudden silence was disrupted by the noise coming from a group of people outside. May looked out of the window quickly. She saw two teenage boys kneeling down with their heads down and their hands tied behind them.

The little crowd of people that had formed was cursing and throwing stones at them. A man
holding a tire was threatening them that if they didn't speak up, he was going to burn them alive.

Three other men stood close to the man with the tire. They were all dressed in black uniforms like they were on the same team.

"I think the boys were caught stealing." Iby suddenly appeared behind her, also watching the scene.

"Who are they? I mean the Men in Black. What are they going to do to the boys?"

"Whip them with koboko or burn them alive."

His reply sent shivers down her spine and goosebumps suddenly appeared all over her body.

"What?" May exclaimed, her eyes wide and wet. "If the boys were caught stealing so what? Does it mean they should take justice into their hands? Stain their hands with blood? Why not take them to the police? Why kill them?"

"It's our job, May. That's what we are paid to do-"

"Wait! Did I just hear you say 'we'?"

He didn't reply as he ran his hand over his face when he looked up, he saw disappointment flash in her eyes.

She asked in a low brittle voice. "Iby, do you kill people for a living?"

The media above was done by SurferJulz a lot of love to dear.