𝓛𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼

𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓞𝓶𝓸𝓱
______________________________________

I return home much earlier than usual, a little exhausted and famished, and at the same time, too lazy to prepare anything. I take out my Android phone, click it on, and scroll to check if I missed any calls or texts, but, to my shock, nothing, not even from him, my boyfriend, Chidi. I sigh and drop the phone angrily on the couch.

I met Chidi through my friend's or neighbor’s boyfriend. They were kind enough to hook me up with him, and since then, we’ve been dating for like a year now.

I hear a light knock on my door, and I rush to it with high expectations.

"Oh, it’s you." I sigh, disappointed to see Omoh. Remember that friend or neighbor who, in agreement with her boyfriend, hooked me up with Chidi? Yes, this is her. Let me introduce my neighbor, who happens to be my only close friend since I moved to this neighborhood,

Omoh is a beautiful, tall, fair, and slim lady who just finished her national youth service. Her dad is a Navy officer, and most Sundays, when she goes to Navy town to greet her parents, she takes me along. She is a nice, jovial lady who happens to be crazy about Uche, her boyfriend.

“Was there anyone else you were expecting?" She asks as she enters my living room and leaps up onto the couch as if she owned the entire structure.

I give her a sidelong glare, lock my door, and take a seat on the other side of the couch. "Not at all." I lie, pouting my lips and playing with my fingers. Naturally, I anticipated seeing someone else. 

"What! He still hasn’t returned your calls or text messages." She immediately spots my miserable attempt at a lie and asks

"No." I exhale.

"I told Uche about it, and he promised to speak with him," she says, and at this point I feel like a pathetic, hopeless romantic.

"Is Uche back?" I ask. It's been over a month since Uche traveled overseas on business. As a public relations officer for a multinational company, he can afford to travel as he pleases.

"Not yet. He’s arriving tomorrow."

"I feel pitiful," I nag, collapsing on the couch and resting my head on the backrest of the seat.

"You are not pitiful," Omoh attempts to lift me from my depressing state. "Take," she hands my phone back to me. "Try calling him again."

I reluctantly collect the phone from her, contemplating whether to call or not. Finally, I dial his number and place the phone on my left ear.

Thank God he picked; I guess maybe Uche has spoken to him. But why does he need to be spoken to before picking up my call? I smile regardless, fighting that negative thought.

"Hello," I say, watching Omoh adjust herself on the couch and giving me that ‘I told you so’ look.

"Hello, baby," he replies in his typical Igbo accent. I grew up in the village, and I don’t have that typical Akwa-Ibom accent. If not for my name, people would still be guessing my tribe.

"Hi, I haven’t heard from you, so I decided to call, hoping that you would pick up my call, and you did." I relax my back and listen.

"I’m sorry, baby, work has been very demanding." He complains. Haven't I heard this before?

"Working in a bank is never easy; I understand. Well, I called to confirm if dinner at your parent’s house this weekend is still happening." I ask, looking at Omoh, who hasn’t taken her eyes off me since I placed the call.

"See, eh, baby. Ok, can you come to that Em Primy bar close to the bank by 12 p.m. tomorrow?"

"Hope there's no problem?" I am curious to know.

"No, baby." 

"Ok, I will come. Take care." I quickly end the call then, stare at the phone for a while.

"What is it?" Omoh asks immediately, concern by the look on my face. I refuse to respond to her at first while I process what might be happening, but stubbornly, Omoh shakes my shoulder hard enough to break my trance.

 Her pupil widened as I watch a bright shimmer pass through. She becomes excited, but I stifle it by saying, "He avoided my calls, and now he wants me to meet him at Primy Bar tomorrow at 12 p.m." Incomprehensibly, the words spill from my mouth, leaving me bewildered; obviously, that's because I really am.

"Hmm." She sighs but doesn't say anything. A signal that validates my mental state.

I lend my eyes to her unhappy expression and say, "I know right," as I continue to look at nothing while attempting to make sense of the scenario. I then notice a spider crawling through the window into my living room.

"You have to go; maybe he wants to go over some plans with you. You are meeting his parents; it’s something you have to prepare for." She says it finally, twisting the situation in my favor.

"You're correct," Chidi must be treating our relationship far more seriously than I realized, now that I think about it.” I simply put, "I just hope I'm good enough for his parents." I say this out of genuine dread that the same limits I had in my last relationships will keep happening.

"Eno!" Omoh summons me by name and brings me back to the present. "You are gorgeous, diligent, fun to be around, and highly creative. You are the daughter-in-law who his parents would give their life for.” Isn't she just patronizing me?

"That’s flattering." I chuckle, yet I want so badly to believe her words.

"I don't say this to make you feel good; I really mean it. I can't lie about that because I'm your best friend and only friend. Every time we go out, you turn a lot of attention since you always seem carefree and young. I wish I had that about you." Her grave expression has me considering a lot of things about myself right now.

I project a simple smile “Thank you.” I reply. A quick change of topic will help balance me out “Howfa, wattin you arrange abeg?” I demand immediately unable to bear the excruciating hunger I feel from the pit of my stomach. 

“Na rice oo.”  She pouts, 

“Abeg, abeg make we dey go your house” Before she even gets up off the couch, I leap to my feet and head for the door.

“When you go do the Afang soup na?” Omoh has been clamoring for another serving of my Afang soup. People just seem to like this soup, which is the famous dish of my home state. Well, most, I guess.

“Madam, when you prepare the Starch and Banga soup wey you talk.” I reply with no hesitation

She wrinkles her nose at me and exclaims, "Ah, UP NEPA oh!" as soon as the power is back on. A statement made, perhaps inadvertently, by Nigerians. Including me. But hearing it from Omoh, who will believe she to be a rich, sophisticated babe?

“Abeg no shout, before dem take am again.” I rebuke her immediately.

“I’ve bought that Korean series oo, King the land.” She winks 

“And what are we waiting for?” I hustle her out of my house, locking my door behind us.

1267 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘

PIDGIN                            ENGLISH

Howfa, wattin you arrange abeg?-    -    -    -    what did you cook, please?

Abeg, abeg make we dey go your house-    -    -    please, please, let’s go to your house

When you go do the Afang soup na?-    -    -    when will you prepare the Afang soup?

wey you talk-    -    -    -    -    -    that you promised

Up nepa-    -    -    -    -    -    the power has been restored