LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP

 Episode 1

 It is one thing to be cheated and know it, but it is another thing to be cheated and not know it. Tobi had been cheated of a husband and his name was Mayowa. It did not matter that they were just dating when they parted ways. She knew they were headed for the altar. Tobi and Mayowa had known each other for five years, with four of those years spent together in the same university, before Folake came into the picture. Tobi still could not believe that Folake, her best friend, was the reason she and Mayowa were no longer together. Folake the go-between, who Tobi had sent as an emissary to Paul in Abuja to give him letters, had stolen her man from her. If Tobi was going to be honest, she would acknowledge that things between her and Mayowa had been rocky for months before Folake came fully into the picture. Tobi’s friendship with Folake dated all the way back to their university days, even though they went to different schools: Tobi went to the University of Lagos (UNILAG), while Folake attended Olabisi Onabanjo University in Ogun State (OOU). Folake had met Mayowa on different occasions and was informed to all the details that best friends typically share with each other. After graduation, Mayowa had moved to Ogun State for his youth service, while Tobi stayed in Lagos. Folake also served in Lagos. However, it was after their youth service that the strain on their relationship became obvious. Almost immediately after completing his youth service, Mayowa had gotten a job working as an Auditor at FBN Insurance in Abuja. If the National Youth Service had made their long-distance relationship seem like a temporary thing, this new job in Abuja made it indefinite. Tobi did all she could to find a job in Abuja, all to no avail. Even the job applications she sent to companies and organizations in Lagos and other parts of the country were rejected. It seemed like the whole universe had conspired to keep them apart, but Tobi was determined to make things work with Mayowa. She pressed on in spite of Mayowa’s non-challant attitude to the situation at hand. He called less often and blamed it on work, and Tobi, willing to believe anything took him at his word. During that period, Folake was offered a job with a marketing firm in Abuja, which required frequent travel from Lagos to Abuja. So, she was in Lagos every other week. Tobi, who saw this as an opportunity to communicate with her passive boyfriend, began writing love letters to Mayowa. She wrote almost every day, pouring out her heart to Mayowa, updating him on what was going on at home and telling him how much she missed him. How she was able to do this on several sheets of paper every single day, without boring herself was amazing. But with all the free time she had on her hands, coupled with the fact that she expressed herself better on paper, it was effortless. So Tobi wrote, and Folake delivered these handwritten epistles to Mayowa whenever she was in Abuja. Sometimes Mayowa wrote back, and other times, he was ‘too busy’ to reply. But, he always managed to tell Folake to say hello to Tobi. It was around this time that Folake told Tobi that she was seeing a guy called Jide. And that was all she told Tobi. No amount of persuading and begging for more details could make Folake part with more information on this mystery man. “This guy sha … I will meet him one day.” That was what Tobi always ended those sessions with whenever Jide’s name was mentioned. The strangest thing was that she finally met him, a few days shy of the 6-month mark of Mayowa’s relocation to Abuja. During the Eid-el-Fitr holiday, when Mayowa finally got a few days off from work, he came to Lagos. Tobi was of course, excited and had prepared in advance to see him. She had wanted to throw him a mini-party and cook for him, but he had coldly turned down her offer when she told him over the phone. They had agreed to meet at Tantalizers for lunch, with Mayowa refusing every attempt of Tobi to come and visit him at his house. She had actually tried to visit but he was not at home. Or at least, that was what the gateman told her. Tobi was the first to arrive at the restaurant, and she waited for almost an hour past the time they had agreed to meet. Mayowa eventually showed up and apologized for keeping her waiting. And then, without even sitting down, he gave her a one-sentence break-up speech. “I’m not feeling this anymore and I think we should go our separate ways.” Tobi asked him over and over again for an explanation, wanting to know what was going on. The only response Mayowa gave her was “I met someone.” He left Tobi standing there and went back to his car, supposedly to fetch the “someone.” He returned less than two minutes later, with Folake in his arm. Tobi almost fainted. The rest was a blur, but she remembered Folake saying she did not plan to hurt Tobi, and Mayowa telling Folake to stop being apologetic for their relationship. That was the last time she laid eyes on both of them. Later, she received an invitation card from Folake, asking for her presence at her wedding. Beforehand, she had sent a text message begging Tobi to attend her bridal shower. She really had the gut! Tobi had ignored that text, just like she had ignored all of Folake’s calls, texts, emails and other efforts at reconciliation. Now, it was the day before the bridal shower, and Tobi was at home battling serious depression. As she slipped in and out of a period of despair, she thought up different ways to pay Folake back for her betrayal. “I am sure there is a special place in hell for best friends who steal their friends’ boyfriends. You’ll go there soon enough,” Tobi muttered to herself. Ironically, she did not extend the same ill wishes to Mayowa who was at the center of the whole affair. (Love has blindfolded her eyes) Just then, someone knocked on the door, prematurely halting her unforgiving thoughts. Who was it? Checkout in the next episode. – To Be Continued –

EPISODE 2

It was her father who called….“Look Tobi, it is taking too long to get a job here in Lagos. Your mother and I have discussed this. Go to Asaba and stay with your uncle, Fashola. He has connections there and might be able to get you a job. At least, you won’t be among strangers. I know you don’t want to leave Lagos because of your friends, but you can–“ “Papa, I’ll go to Asaba. When can I leave?” “Ah, I’m surprised o. I thought you didn’t want to leave Lagos.” “There is nothing left for me in Lagos, Papa. I’m ready to leave.” “Okay then, you can go tomorrow.” That was how Tobi left for Asaba on the day Folake was having her bridal shower. Tobi’s uncle, Chief Fashola, was a kind-hearted person, with a face that matched his heart. He believed that life was to be enjoyed in the company of others. So, he surrounded himself with people, and was well-connected and well-known in Asaba. He had worked at the Delta State Ministry of Works and Housing for almost ten years, rising through the ranks. But his ambition outgrew the civil service, and he left to devote himself full-time to the business he had been partially devoted to: importing and exporting Italian furniture. His wife, Priscillia, was a former beauty queen, having won the Miss Delta State title at one time. Although the title was in the past, that youthful beauty was barely touched by time, and she looked just as radiant as she did back then. Her uncle had told Tobi’s father that Auntie Priscillia would meet Tobi at the motor park. So, Tobi had taken an early bus, leaving Lagos at around 7 am, and arrived in Asaba just a few minutes shy of 3 p.m. The journey had taken almost 8 hours. As soon as the bus arrived in Asaba and after Tobi had secured the single travelling bag she brought with her, she went in search of a light snack. There was a woman selling Plantain Chips close to where the luxury buses were parked. Tobi approached her and asked how much she sold her Plantain Chips. The woman looked at her like she had just uttered a curse word, and Tobi quickly corrected herself. “Madam, well done ma! How much is your Plantain Chips?” That did the trick. She paid 50 naira and sat on a bench beside the plantain chips seller, munching away. She had just put another slice of chips in her mouth when a newspaper vendor walked past her carrying some bunch of newspaper. Maybe it was the bright red t-shirt the vendor was carrying or just the need to fix her gaze on something other than the typical motor park regulars. Whatever it was, Tobi caught sight of the newspaper headlines, which read: ABA RAPIST BELIEVED TO BE IN ASABA “You must be kidding me,” Tobi thought to herself. “Of all the times for a rapist to be in town, it had to be when I was visiting.” Turning to the woman who sold the chips to her, she proceeded to pump her for more information. The woman did not seem in the least bit interested in chatting about criminals, and made her reluctance obvious. Tobi gave up after two failed attempts, and decided that she would buy a copy of the paper herself. No sooner had she decided on this, than she heard a familiar voice shouting her name: “Tobi! Tobi!” It was Auntie Priscillia who had spotted her and was briskly making her way to Tobi. At this point, she knew her short stay at the motor park was over. She gathered her belongings, got up and was about to leave. Suddenly, seized with an unexplainable boldness, she turned to the chips seller, said in a low tone: “The chip no sweet sef! Mtcheww!” Without turning back to watch the woman’s reaction, she quickly ran towards her Auntie. Something about this city was excite. Auntie Priscillia was the first person to meet Tobi at the motor park when she arrived in Asaba. After exchanging pleasantries and greeting her warmly, they entered the green Toyota Land cruiser that had conveyed Auntie Priscillia to the motor park, and left to go home. Auntie was chatting excitedly, telling Tobi about the many pranks of her two youngest daughters, who were still in secondary school, and lived at home. “Can you imagine? We caught Mary jumping the fence, the other day! Your cousin, Mary now sneaks off to parties at night. Her sister, Chikodi … Ahn ahn! Tobi, why are you crying?” Auntie Priscillia asked in alarm. “It’s nothing, Auntie,” Tobi lied. Just mentioning the word ‘party’ triggered off a boat-load of memories of the ones she and Mayowa attended together. They were almost inseparable. And now … “Come on, Tobi. It’s me now. You know you can tell me anything,” Auntie Priscillia cooled. Tobi was not sure about that. If her cousins felt like they could not approach their mother to ask for permission to go to a party, then what on earth made the same woman approachable on the issue of relationships? Tobi dried her tears and kept quiet. “You don’t want to tell me, abi? Or are you shy because of Godwin? He’s just the driver. What can he do? Shebi it’s between you and me?” Auntie Priscillia continued. Tobi knew her aunt very well. She would not drop the matter, but would persist till she got the answers she wanted. So, she finally gave in. “Mayowa broke up with me. He left me for Folake. She was my best friend, and … and … they’re getting married!” Tobi broke down crying again. Her aunt pulled her close and comforted her. “It’s okay, my dear,” Auntie said. “It might seem like it’s the end of the world, but it isn’t. If he left you for another person, he wasn’t really yours in the first place.” Tobi kept crying, and Auntie continued her counseling. “But he left you for your best friend? That is wickedness. In fact, both of them are wicked. Oya stop crying now, stop crying. Another man will come–“ “No, Auntie. I don’t want another man. I want Mayowa!” Tobi moaned, in between her tears. This was the first time she had allowed herself to grieve openly since Mayowa left her. She had put up a front for so long. But now, it felt good to just let it all out and cry. Tobi cried for a few more minutes, during which time Auntie Priscillia promised her that things would work out for her good. Maybe coming to Asaba was a setup for a new chapter in her life, Auntie reasoned. By the time they reached the house, Tobi had started to believe her. – to be continued –

EPISODE 3

In less than 40 minutes, the SUV had pulled into an impressive, but modest two-storey house on Okpannam road. Her uncle, Chief Fashola was not at home when they got back, but her cousins, Mary and Chikodi were present at home. With just two years between them, they could be mistaken for twins. They looked so much alike, but they were very different. Mary, the 17-year old was tall, skinny with a figure that resembled a coke bottle She was in SS2, and was the more daring of the two. Chikodi was 15 years old, and was in SS1. She was almost as tall as Amaka, but not as shapely. She had more of a boyish figure with smaller hips. She was more laid back, and not as adventurous as her sister, but hers was usually the voice of reason. Both girls had inherited their mother’s beauty, but not her grace, evidenced by the noticeable akwardness in their steps. Graceful or not, both girls were excited to see their cousin, Tobi, and nearly fell over each other trying to hug her. “Tobi, Tobi! We have missed you o! Welcome! Let me carry your bag.” That was Chikodi speaking for both of them. Mary was busy going through her purse to see what Tobi could dash her, like she said jokingly. Finding nothing she particularly liked, she handed Tobi’s purse back to her and told her to be ready to give them gist from Lagos. “Haba! Won’t you let her rest?” their mother scolded. “And why are you calling her by her name? Does she look like your mate? You should be calling her ‘Sister Tobi.’ “ “Ah, no Auntie. That won’t be necessary. That will make me feel really old,” Tobi said laughing. “Okay then. At least I tried. Okay girls, I hope you’ve set the table. We need to eat.” The girls had not set the table. They had planned to dump it on Rita, the house girl, but their plan backfired. So, they were forced to set the table themselves and did it rather quickly. In no time at all, they were all downing large amounts of egusi with pounded yam. The soup was so good that Tobi asked her Auntie if she could eat the same thing for dinner. “My dear, doesn’t your mother cook Egusi for you people at home?” Auntie Priscillia asked in wonder. She should know how to cook it.” “Auntie, she does. But your own tastes very different from my mother’s own. I don’t think my husband would complain if I cook two different types of Egusi for him. I want to learn how you make it too.” Auntie Priscillia laughed. “It’s okay. I will teach you. As long as it’s not ogbono soup sha,” she said. “Oh, don’t worry, Auntie. Mummy makes ogbono soup all the time at home. But Egusi like yours is far superior.” Auntie Priscillia stared at Tobi for one whole minute without saying a word, and then left her. As she walked away, Tobi could hear her muttering to herself: “No wonder her boyfriend left her. When she eats ogbono soup. Tufia!” Tobi did not know whether to be upset or let it go. She decided that she had shed enough Mayowa-related tears for one day. Auntie Priscillia was entitled to her opinion. She knew that it was Folake, not ogbono that had snatched Mayowa away from her. Besides, the pounded yam was working its magic, and combined with the fatigue of her journey, she fell asleep in Chikodi’s bed. When she woke up, it was almost midnight. The whole house was quiet and Tobi concluded that everyone was asleep. Needing a little snack, she tip-toed downstairs and made herself some bread and butter and a cup of tea. As she dropped two cubes of sugar into her cup of tea, she remembered how Folake preferred to mix the powdered milk and milo together in a cup and munch it. “How was this girl my friend, again? We were so different,” Tobi wondered. The thought of eating Folake’s milk and milo concoction was so off-putting that she hastily drank some of the hot beverage to wash away that memory. As if … Oddly enough, Folake was everything

Tobi was not, which was partly why Mayowa had gone with her instead. But, Tobi could not understand what Paul saw in Folake. They were complete opposites alright: Folake was the unplanned, adventurous, disorganized, walking human experiment, who was obsessed with trying out different hairstyles almost every week. Her hairline told the story. Too many Ghana-weaving-like hairstyles had taken their toll on her hair, leaving her with a chop-chop hairline that was hard to miss. And yet, with her chop-chop hair, Mayowa had picked her, and told Tobi that she was boring. Boring. Really? So for five years he had endured boring Tobi, and had hopped on the Folake’s train at the slightest opportunity? “Men are so inconsistent, and Mayowa is the most inconsistent of them all,”Tobi thought to herself. It was best to forget him. “Well, so much for forgetting Mayowa … and Boluke. Every little thing seems to stir up memories of them in my mind.” That night, Tobi decided that she would do everything possible to start afresh in Asaba. Little did she know that her resolve would be tested the very next day. The following day was a Saturday. Tobi sat to eat breakfast with the family, and met her uncle for the first time since her arrival in Asaba. He was happy to see her, and told her that he would do his best to find her a suitable job very soon. “It might not be as glamorous as Lagos, but I will find something for you, okay?” Chief Fashola promised. Tobi expressed her thanks and went off to help her auntie clean up. Auntie Priscillia told Tobi that Rita and her daughters were able to handle most of the chores. But since Tobi pressed her for something to do, she told her to empty the kitchen dustbin. Tobi agreed. As she carried the dustbin from the kitchen outside the gate to empty it into the larger trash can, she almost tripped and fell over one of the pavement stones that was out of place. She quickly regained her balance and continued on her mission. Once outside the gate, she lifted the metal cover of the trash can. Something prompted her to look to her left, and as she did, she saw a young man standing outside the gate of a house, two doors down, about to do the same thing: empty the dustbin. As soon as he saw her, he paused and waved a greeting at her. Tobi eyed him, and simply turned away without responding. Something must be wrong with me, she imagined – to be continued –

EPISODE 4

“Na so e dey start,” she muttered to herself. “From ‘Hello’ to ‘I no do again.’ That’s how the story ends.” She promptly emptied the dustbin and was about to enter the house when she heard a man’s voice yelling “Hello.” It was the same guy. He had decided to vocalize his greeting this time, but Tobi’s reaction was the same. She simply ignored him and went inside. “I came to Asaba to look for a job, not to make friends,” she reasoned as she retreated indoors. Later that afternoon, one of Chief’s friends came to visit. His name was Professor Jonathan, and he taught Physics at University of Nigeria, Nsukka. Professor Jonathan was a smartly-dressed middle-aged man. Although he was dressed in traditional attire, it was easy to see how he would look in English wear. He had an air of unshakeable confidence around him, like a man who had wrestled with deep questions, and had perceived the answers by trial and error. He was in Asaba for a friend’s 60th birthday, and decided to greet Chief Fashola while he was in town. Chief was known as a very hospitable man and as was his custom, offered his friend something to drink. “Any soft drink will do,” Professor Jonathan said. Auntie Priscillia searched the house and discovered that there were no soft drinks on hand. Tobi offered to go and buy some cold drinks from a nearby shop. “But my dear, you don’t know your way around this neighborhood. Let Godwin go and buy them.” “Auntie, please let me go with Godwin. I might as well use this opportunity to learn my way around town.” Auntie Priscillia agreed and Tobi hopped into the car with Godwin. He took her to a one-storey mini-supermarket about five minutes away from the house. He parked outside, and waited for Tobi to return. “Madam, please I need to buy a crate of Coke and Fanta. Mixed. Do you have any cold drinks?” “Yes. How many you want?” the woman asked. “Twelve bottles of Coke, eight bottles of Fanta, and four bottles of Schweppes, if you have any.” “We no get Schweppes, but we get Mirinda,” the woman said, sounding apologetic. “Shuooo! How I go take buy Fanta plus Mirinda? No be the same thing dem be?” Tobi queried trying to form an igbo accent like say she sabi “No, they are not,” a male voice answered. “Fanta is made by The Coca-Cola Company, while Mirinda is made by Pepsi Co., the same company which makes Pepsi.” “Who cares? They are both orange drinks,” Tobi answered without even turning around to face the interrupter. “Come o, who be dis ITK (I TOO KNOW) sef?” she asked, her face wearing a frown. With the question still hanging in the air, she turned around and came face to face with the human encyclopedia. She recognized him immediately. It was the man she had ignored that same morning, while taking out the trash. When she saw him that morning, she only caught a slight glimpse of his face. But now that he stood within touching distance, she carefully assessed him from head to toe. Tobi was about 5′ 7”. This man appeared to be at least 2 inches taller than her. He had what Tobi later admitted was an adorable little afro, the kind that just makes you want to reach out and pat it, just to feel the softness of the hair. He had a gentle face with a bold nose that did not seem like it belonged in that face. She paused at his ears. Both ears were pierced, revealing little holes where ear-rings had once been. He looked like he was badly in need of a shave, but all that facial hair did not hide the Adam’s apple, which kept bobbing up and down whenever he swallowed or spoke. He had the build of a man who was not afraid of hard work, and could handle physical labor without whining. He was dressed casually in t-shirt and jeans, and his hands, very hairy hands, were stuck in the side pockets of his jeans. He wore blue loafers, and as Tobi’s eyes trailed all the way down from his head to his toes, and then back to his face, his lips parted in a smile, revealing gapped teeth. It was when he smiled that she saw them for the very first time: little round dimples in his cheeks, the kind that made one say a special prayer of thanksgiving to God for blessing men with dimples. They made all the difference in the world. “You’re checking me out, ehn? But this morning you didn’t even answer my greeting,” the stranger teased. Tobi did not answer. She was still enjoying the way his face came alive when he smiled. Those dimples … Hmm … Correct! “I’m Dimeji, by the way. Oladimeji Bakare. Call me Dimeji.” Tobi still did not answer. “Why does he have to introduce himself with all his names? Weirdo,” she thought. Dimeji kept talking. “Ahn ahn … Are you going to ignore me even now, when I am standing right in front of you?” he asked. A frown had twisted his brow into odd waves of skin, and the dimples made a very limited appearance as if they were shy. Tobi snapped out of her fantasy. “Oh sorry … What did you say again?” “I’m Dimeji Bakare. You can call me Dimeji. And you are?” “Tobi. Tobi,” she said repeatedly, smiling at of herself. “Auntie, na which mineral you want make I give you?” the woman asked. She was tired of watching this drama and just wanted to get paid. “The Mirinda is fine, Madam. Twelve bottles of Coke, eight bottles of Fanta, and four bottles of Mirinda,” Tobi replied, turning back to face the woman. “Madam, please add two cartons of Chivita, the pineapple one. I will pay for everything,” Dimeji offered. Tobi tried to convince him otherwise, but he was just persistent. “Consider it a gift, from a neighbor,” he said, as he paid for everything Tobi had purchased, including the crate of drinks. As she thanked him, he said it was his pleasure, and was about to ask her some more questions when his phone rang. He answered it and immediately burst into fluent Hausa. Tobi was shocked. The phone call lasted for just a minute, and Tobi immediately asked about his speaking Hausa. “I grew up in Kaduna. I moved to Lagos when I was about to start secondary school. Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to delay you. Your visitor will be waiting for the drinks.” “How did you know they were meant for a visitor?” Tobi asked puzzled. “I saw him entering your house as I was driving past.” “Your eyes are sharp o.” “Not as sharp as they need to be,” Dimeji replied. That last sentence further confused Tobi, and as she returned home, she wondered what he meant. She left him and returned to the car where Godwin was waiting for her. They both returned to the house. Tobi told Auntie Priscillia that a neighbor had paid for the drinks, and she was very pleased. Tobi went with a tray of drinks to serve the visitor. She knew he would only drink one bottle, but it was for the sake of variety that she presented him with three different bottles. After greeting him, he pointed to the bottle of Mirinda. She was just grabbing the bottle opener when her uncle addressed her: “Tobi, Prof and I have been talking. The friend he came to visit is the General Manager at one of the local banks. He might be able to get you a job there.” “Oh, really? Oh, that would be very nice, sir,” Tobi said in response to her uncle. Then, turning to Prof, she said almost knelt down while the words, “Thank you, sir,” escaped from her lips. Prof smiled his acknowledgment. “What course did you study in school?” Prof asked. “Business Administration, sir,” Tobi replied. “Come on, Prof. You know that even if she read Agric. Science, she can still get a job at a bank,” Chief teased. Both men laughed and the conversation switched to politics. Tobi took that as her prompt to slip away from their midst. After Prof left, Chief told her to send her CV to him by e-mail, which she did gpromptly. He would forward it to his contacts, including the very prospective one they had already discussed. That night, Tobi went to bed full of hope. – to be continued –

EPISODE 5

The following day, Tobi woke up still full of hope. The day was pregnant with the promise of great things, and she basked in it. She savored that warm, delightful feeling, which envelopes a person rising from sweet sleep, that sweet nothingness that entices the waker to sleep back under the covers and continue dreaming. But a noise reached her ears, forcing her to abandon any desire to go back to sleep. It was the same noise that had woken her up. “Papa, please … please … I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” a voice pleaded. “You said that last week, and the week before. Why should I believe you?” a male voice fired back in response. Wham! Wham! Wham! Tobi did not need a foreteller to tell her what was going on. Someone was getting a thorough beating, and she knew it had to be one of her cousins. What had they done this time? She quietly went downstairs, and walked into the sitting room to witness the scene that was already playing. Her uncle, was wearing a house robe, which Tobi admitted, actually made him look younger. Gone was the kind-faced man she called uncle, and in his stead was a man keen on stamping out every form of disobedience from his children. His face portrayed this determination. In his hand was a long thick cane, that looked like it had been freshly plucked from a tree because it still had a few leaves attached to it. One of her cousins, she could not tell which, was half-kneeling, half-prostrated on the floor of the sitting room, wailing in a loud voice. Her mother stood nearby, hands extending outwards, dressed in a lace blouse and wrapper and crowned with an elaborate head tie. Tobi deduced that this was Auntie Priscillia’s Sunday wear. She did nothing to withhold her husband from administering justice, but instead encouraged him more, yelling to her daughter that this was what happened to children who disobeyed their parents. Tobi walked over to her Auntie’s side and asked her what had happened. “Can you imagine? This one–” and as she said ‘this one,’ Auntie Priscillia walked over and gave the girl a knock on the head (Am sure you also received this same knock when you were young :D) It was when she raised up her head in protest, that Tobi saw that it was Mary, the older of her two cousins. “This one,” Auntie continued, rejoining Tobi, “went off yesterday night, when she thought we were all asleep,” and did not come back until 6:00 a.m. this morning. 6 am!” Auntie yelled, as she made as if to attack the girl again, but Chief who was closer to Mary gave her another stroke of the cane on her back side. Mary yellled out in pain and pleaded again for mercy, but it fell on deaf ears. Tobi looked at the time. It was barely 6:15 am, and she wondered why her Auntie was already dressed up so early in the morning. “I was getting ready to go for the 7 o’ clock service,” Auntie continued, “when I remembered that Chikodi had asked me for money to buy materials for a Maths project. I came to their room to give it to her, and saw Chikodi sleeping in her room. When I asked her where Amaka was, she started stammering: ‘I-I-I don’t k-k-k-now, Mama,’ “Auntie said, mimicking her younger daughter’s voice and mannerisms. “These children think we were born yesterday,” her husband interrupted, still glaring at the offending child. “Yes, Papa. They do. As if I was never a teenager myself. I knew she was trying to cover for her sister. So I went and told their father, and we both waited. Papa waited at the front door and I waited at the back door. Within a few minutes, I saw her creeping in through the back door–“ “Dressed like a harlot! You see her? My own daughter, wearing mini skirt and brazier! Your bride price has reduced,” Chief said his voice heavy with anger. The mention of what Mary was wearing earned her another five strokes from her father, who beat her as if he had just heard that she stole a neighbor’s goat. The girl’s voice was now cracked from shouting Foolish girl! So, it is when the news is everywhere that the Aba rapist in now in Asaba, that you decided to be going for night parties and gallivanting all over town, abi? She said she was in Agbor for a party. What if a car had hit you or the Aba rapist had finished you–” Chief began, but his wife cut him short. “Tufiakwa! God forbid. My daughters will never be raped or killed. I will not mourn any of my children o. Papa, it’s enough.” Auntie Priscillia switched gears and began to plead with her husband to forgive the naughty child. At first, he vehemently refused, but after a few minutes, he agreed. Mary ran upstairs to her room still crying. Her sister, Chikodi who had watched quietly from the top of the stairs, had also disappeared into their room. She had made herself scarce during the entire session knowing that seeing her might make her parents transfer some of the beating meant for Mary to her as well. Tobi tried to go after Mary, but she locked the door of the room behind her, putting an end to any consolation from her cousin. Tobi, who was now living in one of the spare rooms upstairs, retired to her room briefly. As she began to meditate on what just happened, she recalled that she had seen the Sunday newspaper lying on the dining table. Her uncle’s brief reference to the Aba rapist had stirred up her curiosity and she went in search of the paper. After retrieving it, she went back to her room and looked for an update on the ongoing investigation. There was a short article mentioning the cities that the rapist had struck, and they included Agbor, Onitsha and finally Aba. Some of the victims had provided the police with brief descriptions, and the paper reported that the man they were looking for wore two studs in his ears, and smelt like fish. The other descriptions they gave were common place and from what Tobi could see, they might as well have been describing any man who lived in that region: medium height, thick lips, beard, moustache, strong build. “Good luck catching him,” Tobi shrugged as she put the paper down. The report also mentioned that he had struck in Agbor the night before. Tobi could now understand her aunt and uncle’s fears for their daughters, especially since Mary had been in Agbor that night. She got up and got ready to go to church. She had no intention of going to her aunt’s church, which was a Baptist Church. Instead, she planned to attend a popular Pentecostal church on Ilukwu Ilah road, which was not too far from the house. Being that it was a Sunday, Godwin the driver was off duty, and since Tobi could not drive, she had to find her way to church alone. She walked to a street corner not far from the house and stopped an okada, which took her to church. When she got there, the service was in full swing. She thought the service was for 10am, but as it turned out, she was an hour late. A well-dressed usher shoved a bulletin into her hand, and directed her to an empty seat in the middle of a crowded row. She had barely set down her bag, so she could join in the praise and worship, when someone on the right tapped her. She turned to come face to face with her neighbor, Dimeji Bakare. She could not hide her surprise. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m not an infidel (un-believer)!” he yelled into her ear, trying to make himself heard above the noise of talented and talentless vocalists alike, singing praises to God. Tobi thought of telling him that she did not know him well enough to come to such a conclusion, and that coming to church did not mean he was a believer, but decided against it. She just smiled and shook the hand he extended to her. Less than twenty minutes later, when the woman on the pulpit asked visitors to stand up for the church to welcome them specially, Tobi and Dimeji stood up at the same time. It was his first time too? Tobi was shocked. After the service, they went with other visitors to the visitor’s parlor for refreshments and to learn more about the church. Dimeji attached himself to her, and followed her everywhere like a lost puppy. Tobi was amused. When the meeting was over, Dimeji asked if she had other plans for the rest of the day, to which she responded in the negative. “Might I interest you in lunch at Mr. Biggs?” he asked her. “Why not? Which one?” Tobi replied. “Is that a trick question? The only one of course. The one on Nnebisi road.” “That was a trick question. I’m not pleased that you didn’t fall for it.” “Oh yeah? Don’t worry. I’ll pretend to fall for the next one.” They both laughed and Dimeji led the way to his silver Toyota Camry, which had been mercilessly roasted by the sun. “So do you always take your neighbors to Mr. Biggs every Sunday?” Tobi asked, as Dimeji drove them to the restaurant. “Of course. Haven’t you heard? Father Christmas moved to Asaba, and he’s not an old man.” Tobi smiled and proceeded to ask him where his red suit was, and why he was delivering presents in August. Dimeji did not have an answer for that, but announced to her in a clear voice: “If you hang around me long enough, you’ll uncover even more secrets.” Then, he winked. That wink. It spoke of upcoming mischief and reminded Tobi of someone she used to know in primary school. The boy used to wink at her anytime she saw him stealing pencils from the store at the back of the class, which was quite often. Tobi wondered if Dimeji had ever stolen anything before, and then rebuked herself for thinking such evil thoughts of a man who was treating her to lunch. – To Be Continued

EPISODE 6

As they drove, there was a beep from Dimeji’s phone, which was in his breast pocket and he made as if to retrieve it. “What do you think you’re doing?” Tobi asked, a tinge of fear in her voice. “Don’t tell me you’re going to check your phone while you’re driving?” “You’ve predicted my future by asking a question. O Great One, if you already knew, then why did you still ask?” Dimeji asked in a playful voice. Tobi was not smiling. “To knock some sense into your head, obviously.” “Are you saying I’m senseless?” “Your words not mine,” Tobi said, pouting like a spoilt child. “Or how else would you describe a person who fiddles with his phone while driving? There’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate on your driving.” “You mean to tell me that you don’t text, answer calls, type articles, make eba, pound yam, make akamu and even wash clothes while you’re driving?” Dimeji asked, a wicked smile playing on his lips. Tobi laughed at his effort to lighten her mood. “I don’t drive, so the answer is ‘No.’ I don’t make eba while driving. But, put me on the back of an okada, and I might even make stew to go with the eba.” Dimeji laughed. It was one of those genuine, heartfelt laughs that rise from the belly and explodes through the mouth. “Hmmmm … But you’re clearly one of those back seat drivers,” he said, as the laughter died down. “What gave me away?” “Ah! The way you’ve been pointing and gesticulating and telling me to slow down since you entered my car. I’ve been waiting to ask if maybe you be yellow fever or LASTMA officer.” Tobi chuckled. And then it struck her. That mention of LASTMA could only mean one thing. “Wait o, Dimeji. Have you been to Lagos?” “Ah, I resemble village boy to you? So, on top of all my baffing up, you still think I’m a local boy? See my life?!” he moaned in jest. “O-o-o-h! Stop it jo. I was referring to the LASTMA comment, not your clothes. No one says “baffs” anymore, old papa youngy …” “Your body don wrinkle …” Dimeji sang. “Pata-pata!” they both chorused and the car erupted in laughter. “You dis girl! You’re just as razz as I am. I like that.” They had by now arrived at the Mr. Biggs on the ever busy Nnebisi Road. This was one of Asaba’s commercial areas, but it was less busy that day, being a Sunday. The restaurant was not as packed as Tobi had expected. Many of those present were young couples with small children, but some older people were also there. Dimeji paid for their food, and they went to sit at a table with three chairs. “Won’t you check your phone? Your girlfriend won’t like to be kept waiting,” Tobi teased, in between sips from a bottle of Fanta. Dimeji pulled out his phone and came round to where she sat. Still holding it, he placed it right in front of her eyes, and opened the text message that had come in earlier. It was from someone called Tiff Adesanya, and it read: I hope you’re expecting me, Dimeji. I’m coming to visit in one month. With a questioning look, Tobi tilted her head and looked up at Dimeji. “Oh, that’s my cousin, Tiffany. We … I mean … I call her Tiff for short.” “Hmmm … That’s what you all say. It’s always your cousin when you’re out of town. But if she was here, you would act like you didn’t know me.” Dimeji cocked his head to one side and gave her a funny look. But, he walked back to his seat without another word. Tobi wondered if she had not offended him. She did not have to ask him for he spoke up: “I can’t speak for all men, and I shouldn’t even have to. But let me say this: Regardless of your own past experiences with men, we are not all the same. There are still some good men out there, and–“ “Let me guess,” Tobi said, interrupting Dimeji’s one-minute sermon. “You’re one of them, right?” she asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yes.” “Ever heard the saying ‘Don’t blow your own horn’? It’s good advice, you know. Your opportunity to convince me of your humility just flew out of the window. It has probably flown half-way to Onitsha by now.” “I had to address a more pressing issue, my dear,” said Dimeji. You made a generalized, and might I add, very stereotypical statement about men, when in fact, the qualities you referenced are reserved for certain types of men.” “And what sort of man are you, Dimeji?”Tobi asked, throwing the question at him in a deceptively quiet voice. Tobi had already drawn her own conclusions about the sort of man Dimeji was, but she took delight in drawing answers directly from people. To her, listening to people describe themselves offered a rare opportunity to test the level of humility in a person. A proud person would describe himself in near-perfect terms, omitting his weaknesses and over-emphasizing his strengths. But a humble person would either decline the invitation or give a more balanced description of himself. As Tobi was about to discover, Dimeji fell closer to the humbler end of the spectrum. “I’m a patient and forgiving man, who still has a lot to learn in life. I love deeply and people often take advantage of that, but it won’t stop me from pouring myself out.” “Is that all?” “The rest you’ll have to find out over time.” Tobi who had paused in the middle of her struggle with a piece of chicken to listen to Dimeji paint a self-portrait with words, resumed her war. The chicken was winning against Tobi even though she was equipped with a fork and knife, but by the time Dimeji finished speaking, Tobi had won the battle. “Who says we’ll be spending more time together?” Tobi asked. That Dimeji assumed that they would be spending more time together was inferred from his last statement. “You just said ‘We,’ Tobi. I rest my case.” – to be continued –

EPISODE 7

Tobi shook her head and rolled her eyes. This guy was just jumping to conclusions, but she was enjoying his company. They continued talking as they ate their lunch. Tobi told Dimeji that she was in Asaba job-hunting. He told her that he was in a joint venture with his best friend, Chuka in Lagos. Their company sold electronics and was considering opening a branch in Asaba. He had come to do the groundwork to prepare for the new branch, which they planned to launch before the end of the year. “You’re lucky you have an uncle who is willing to help you secure a job. At least, you studied a sensible course: Business Admin. As for me, na Geography I read o, so I knew I was on my own.” “My friend, don’t talk like that! You know that even those who graduate with a degree in Yoruba work in banks,” said Tobi. “Yes, but they need serious connections to cut that deal. I didn’t have that. I’m happy with the path I chose though. Entrepreneurship, I mean. More like it chose me. Even if I worked at a bank, for example, I could not possibly work there forever. I was going to be an entrepreneur eventually. It has brought fulfillment in a lot of ways.” “I wonder if your girlfriend, Tiff, agrees,” Tobi said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Haba! Don’t tell me we’re back to this non-existent girlfriend? Did that bobo hurt you so much?” “How did you know?” “That was the only logical explanation for your refusal to let go of my presumed infidelity.” “Or you took a wild guess and got lucky?” Tobi queried. “That too … Look Tobi, I understand. I really do. I have been there.” There was something genuine and sincere about the way Dimeji said the words ‘I have been there’ that was heart-stirring. Tobi wondered what his story was. “So, Mr. I-have-been-there, what happened between you and her?” “You know, it is not good to discuss exes on our first date,” Dimeji said, a naughty grin on his face. “Say what?! Which date? Don’t get it twisted. I’m just here as–” Tobi said, clearly flustered. “Sister Tobi, cool down for Jesus! I was just kidding … for now,” Dimeji said. That mischievous twinkle re-appeared so often during their conversation that by the time Dimeji dropped her off at home, she concluded that he was born that way. Later that evening, she spoke with her mother who called to find out how she was settling down in Asaba. She gave her mother a condensed version of her experiences, including this neighbor who had taken her out to lunch. “Keep an open mind, Tobi. You don’t know what God has in store for you in Asaba.” Those were her mother’s words, and that became the mantra she recited to herself every morning. It helped her through the disappointments she faced over the next four months, where she attended job interviews that were unsuccessful. Her uncle’s connections helped her get a foot in the door in some companies, but that was only for the application process. It seemed like the same ill luck that she had tried to escape from in Lagos had followed her to Asaba, and she battled discouragement daily. In the midst of all this, Dimeji remained at her side, being the listening ear she needed and occasional shoulder to cry on. Tobi had thought that her cousins would have played that role, but they were both disconnected from Tobi’s reality. They had not tasted the pain of disappointment that came from having doors shut in one’s face in places where open doors were expected, promised even. Dimeji, who had walked in Tobi’s shoes a few years back, having gone through the same process, knew exactly what she was going through, and it seemed also, how to comfort her. He was usually out during the day, busy with the demands of opening a new branch office. However, in the evenings, he made himself available, coming to visit her at home and taking long walks down the quiet streets in their neighborhood. Occasionally, they visited local attractions like the Mongo Park Building, FSP Children’s Park and Otu-Ogwu Beach, but it was those long walks that Tobi loved the most because they got to enjoy each other’s company and talk for hours. What better way is there to get to know a person than talking to him? In four months, Tobi knew more about Dimeji than she had known about Mayowa in five years. She knew that he had two younger brothers who were still in the university, that his parents had divorced when he was just five, and had learnt to speak Hausa fluently while he attended primary school in Kaduna, where his mother lived. Because his parents felt that the schools in Lagos were better than the ones in Kaduna, he had moved to Lagos after finishing primary school, to attend a private secondary school. He studied Geography at Olabisi Onabanjo University, in Ogun State, formerly known as Ogun State University (OSU). Youth service was at Kogi state, and that was the last time he had been in a relationship. He was reluctant to tell Tobi about this past relationship, but Tobi was not one to be ignored. She cornered him one Friday evening, during one of their numerous leisurely strolls, and asked him point blank to tell her about his ex-girlfriend. “Talking is therapeutic, Dimeji. You of all people should know that. It’s what you’ve been drumming into my head almost every day since we met,” Tobi said, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her face. “Oya talk.” “Why now? You’re ruining the mood. Look at the way the sun has colored the sky as it is going to sleep. Isn’t God amazing?” Dimeji said, making a last minute attempt to change the subject. Tobi did not fall for it, and insisted on him speaking about her. “Okay. Remember that day at Mr. Biggs? I told you that I love deeply and that people often take advantage of that.” “Yes, I remember.” “Okay, that’s what happened. I loved her too much and she knew it. It didn’t work out. The end.” “Oh no, sir. That summary is unacceptable. You’ll have to do better than that.” “What do you want me to say, Tobi?” Dimeji asked, in a frustrated voice. “For starters, you could tell me her name,” Tobi said, coolly. “Her name. Hmmmm …. Her name was … is Enitan Ibiwoye.” “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” “No, it wasn’t. She was a fellow corper. We were both posted to a secondary school in Asaya, Kogi state. She taught English, and I taught Health Science. We spent a lot of time together.” “Was she fine? Or should I say beautiful?” “Yes, she was … on the outside. We were inseparable.” And here, Dimeji smiled as he remembered some happier times he had shared with this Enitan person. “Go on. I’m listening.” Tobi began to wonder if asking him to talk about his ex-girlfriend was such a good idea. “She had this … this face. How do I describe her? When she braided her hair, she looked just like a Malo chick.” “Malo what? What’s that?” “Hausa girl. She looked like an Hausa girl.” “She was very athletic too. She represented our platoon and won many of those running competitions. Her favorite meal was–“ “Abeg, abeg! I didn’t ask you for all the details on her life. I just wanted to know what went wrong.” “Shebi you were the one asking about my ex? Now, you’re tired of hearing about her abi?” Dimeji asked in surprise. “Why did you people break up? Simple question. Oya answer it,” Tobi responded, arms folded across her chest. “I was not the only one who was attracted to her. I mean … she was hot! A lot of the other male corpers thought so too. They were always toasting her, flirting with her, and she did nothing to discourage them. I confronted her with this shortly after we started dating, and she just brushed off my concerns. Said I was too sensitive. And then the rumors started … that she was seeing other men.” “Sleeping with other men, you mean,” Tobi said, a stern look on her face. “Well … yes, that’s what they said.” “Let me guess … You didn’t believe them. You thought she was above all that. Am I right?” “Yes, yes, exactly. I told her that people were talking, but that I didn’t believe them. That I believed in us.” “And what did she say?” “The first time I confronted her with the rumors, she threatened to break up with me. That there were many people who were jealous of her, especially other female corpers, and they were the ones spreading the rumors.” “There’s no smoke without fire,” Tobi muttered under her breath. “What was that?” Dimeji asked. “Nothing. Continue. I’m listening.” “She denied it and said that I should stop feeding my ears with gossip. So, I took her advice and ignored the rumors. I actually quarreled with some of my friends over this issue. At some point, some of them said I was jazzed.” Tobi laughed. That was typical. An African man’s unshakeable loyalty to a woman could always be explained by jazz or juju. It had to be a love charm mixed liberally with some mouth-watering meal she had cooked for him. Love by itself, in its purest, unadulterated form was not enough. Dimeji paused, took a deep breath and continued. “The rumors increased and so did the intensity of Enitan’s denials. At some point, I thought I was hallucinating, that I had imagined all these stories about her and other guys. Eventually, I got tired of self-therapy, and decided to find out for myself. So, the very next rumor that reached my ears, I took it to heart and investigated.” “And what did you find out?” Tobi asked, even though she already guessed the answer. “That I had been a big fool. She wasn’t only messing around with corpers but with teachers and even the headmaster.” “Headmaster? Well, I have to hand it to her. She didn’t aim low. She went straight for the oga at the top … if you can call the headmaster that,” Tobi said. Dimeji did not find her joke funny and told her immediately. She apologized. “After that, I broke up with her. The funny thing is that I still loved her though. If she hadn’t–“ “Do you still love her?” Tobi asked, looking into Dimeji’s eyes. Without hesitating, he replied: “No. It took a while … years actually, but I got over her.” “And how do you know “No. It took a while … years actually, but I got over her.” “And how do you know? I mean, how do I know you’re telling the truth?” “Because when she came–“ Dimeji’s phone rang at that minute, interrupting their conversation. He answered it before Tobi could stop him and began to speak Hausa to someone over the phone. Tobi could not make head or tail of the conversation, but she wanted Dimeji to conclude his Enitan gist, so she waited for the phone call to end. Five minutes turned to ten minutes. By this time, they had walked back to Okpannam road and were standing in front of Chief Fashola’s house. The front gate opened, and Rita, the house help came to call Tobi. “Madam dey call you, Auntie,” she said to Tobi. – to be continued –

EPISODE 8

Tobi tapped Dimeji on the shoulder, told him she was leaving and retired indoors. She knew that she would have another opportunity to ask more questions the following day. One of her father’s friends was celebrating his 54th birthday in Agbor that Saturday, and Dimeji had volunteered to take her there. The man, Mr. Johnson would not have bothered celebrating 54. After all, most people threw parties to celebrate major milestones like 21, 30, 40, 50 and so on. But Mr. Johnson had survived a major boat accident earlier that year, and felt that a party was in order. Tobi’s father would not be in attendance, but his daughter would represent the family. Chief Fashola and Auntie Priscillia would also be out of town attending another function. As soon as Tobi entered the house, she went to the back of the house, where Auntie Priscillia was sitting eating sugar cane. Tobi greeted her, fetched her own plate, and joined her aunt to consume the sugar cane. “Tobi,” Auntie Priscillia began, after spitting out the chaff from the chewed-up sugar cane, “That man you’re always going about with, what’s his name?” “Dimeji, Auntie. His name is Dimeji,” Tobi replied, before throwing a piece of sugar cane in her mouth. She was not surprised. She had expected her aunt to question her about her friendship with Dimeji and was ready with answers. “So, what are the two of you doing together, ehn? You’ve been spending all this time with him, and you’ve been gallivanting all around Asaba together. Tobi, I know I am not your mother, but I won’t open my eyes and keep quiet if I see something wrong happening to you.” She paused. She did not expect a reply from Tobi, but started coughing. Tobi dived indoors for a glass of water. After drinking and clearing her throat, she continued. “Now, this Dimeji, has he made his intentions known to you? I mean, has he asked for your hand in marriage?” “Haba, Auntie! We’ve only known each other for four months, and you’re already talking about marriage. We are just friends.” “You children don’t know anything. How long do you think it took before your uncle married me? Just two months. Marriage was his intention from day one, and he made it clear. He didn’t waste time at all. Tobi, I don’t want this man to waste your time like that other Mayowa fellow. If a man wants you, he will make it clear.” “Auntie, we are just friends. I’m not his girlfriend or anything and–“ “You see, that’s the problem. Anybody seeing the two of you together would think you were in a committed relationship, and you’re now telling me he is just a friend. Tobi, it is a woman who determines the pace of a relationship, and she is the one who sets the boundaries too. With your mouth you’re saying you both share a casual friendship, but your actions tell a different story. Don’t let any man make a fool of you. I know not every man is upfront about his intentions like your uncle. Some men need a little push to make a commitment. This Dimeji fellow must decide whether he will commit himself to you or move on. If he has not raised this issue with you, then it is your duty to do so. Or else–“ And here, Auntie Priscillia’s voice trailed off as she threw another piece of sugar cane into her mouth and chewed it with a rugged determination. It was like the words that should have come after “or else” were crushed with the pulp of the sugar cane and promptly discarded with the chaff. Tobi knew that what her aunt had said was true. She had thought about it many times, but each time the thought presented itself, she had pushed it farther and farther away into the recesses of her mind. It was something she was not willing to deal with simply because she was enjoying the steady pace of her friendship with Dimeji. They were getting to know each other without the boyfriend-girlfriend tag, which in Tobi’s opinion, could ruin everything. Their friendship was unhurried and she did not feel the pressure she had felt with her relationship with Mayowa. Until that evening with Aunty Priscillia. Tobi was sure that bringing up any talk about relationships or commitment with Dimeji would spoil the simple friendship they already had. Besides, wasn’t that his place? Why did she have to do a man’s job for him? And she did not want to repeat the same mistake she had made with Paul with any other man. Certainly not with Dimeji. Tobi was forward, outspoken sometimes, and in the months after her breakup with Mayowa, she felt a deep sense of guilt for the way things had panned out between them. A part of her felt that her being too forward was to blame, and she had consciously tried to tone it down when she came to Asaba. Poor Tobi! If only she knew that there was no amount of ‘toning down’ her character that could have saved her relationship with Mayowa. They had already drifted apart before he went to Abuja, but she still held on to him like a drowning man clutching at straw. For Mayowa, the physical distance between them was a manifestation of what was already going on emotionally. He had gone to Abuja thinking of starting afresh. It just so happened that it was Folake who had walked into his life at a time when his own heart was searching for someone else. Tobi with all her letter writing, phone calls and emails was fighting a lost battle. But our dear Tobi was not a mind reader. She only knew what she could see and understand. This revelation, of course, came later. That evening with Auntie Priscillia, she realized that her attempts to suppress her nature were failing. In fact, they had failed. The longer she sat there thinking about what her aunt had said, the more she realized that she had been the one deceiving herself.There was nothing simple about her friendship with Dimeji. They had crossed the friend line a long time ago, but they never made it official. He never made it official. “I’m not going to Agbor without a formal commitment. In fact, I’m not going anywhere without defining this yeye friendship. What would I even introduce him as? My friend? Let me not disgrace myself. I will confront him today.” With her mind made up, Tobi thanked her aunt for her advice and retired to her room. Once she was within the confines of her room, she sent Dimeji a text with the four words men do not like to hear: We need to talk. Tobi had expected that Dimeji would reply with “Okay, we’ll discuss this tomorrow.” But she got a big shock when he replied with “Okay. Me too, I have something to say. Meet me outside your gate in five minutes.” Five minutes? She had hoped for a meeting the following day so she could collect her thoughts and decide what to say. But now, five minutes? “Well, there goes my plan,” she muttered to herself as she went to the designated meeting place. How did the discussion went? – to be continued –

EPISODE 9

By now, it was already dark, and although the electricity supply was a lot better in Asaba than it was in Lagos, the power was out that night. The generators in the neighborhood had taken over from where PHCN stopped. Chief Fashola’s compound was no exception. The hum of his generator was loud enough to mask Tobi and Dimeji’s conversation from the gateman who sat at his duty post near the gate. When Tobi stepped outside the gate and saw Dimeji, she immediately noticed that something had changed. He looked different. Dimeji had changed from the purple button-down shirt and gray trousers he wore earlier in the day, and now donned his usual t-shirt and jeans. He was smiling. No, beaming when Tobi came outside. He could easily have outshone the bright fluorescent lamp, which lit up the front of Chief’s house. Tobi wondered why he was so happy. He read the question in her eyes and pronounced the answer with his lips: “I should have asked you this weeks ago, but I kept looking for the right opportunity and … Tobi, you have to promise me that you’ll say ‘Yes.’ Will you?” Dimeji looked at Tobi, hope written all over his face. “How can I make a promise when I don’t know the terms? What if you want me to steal someone’s fowl? I’m not a thief o,” said Tobi, laughing nervously (you sabi as lady dey always form nau :D). She hoped the laughter would mask the sound of her heart racing. Nerves! Was he really asking her out? “Come on now, you know what I mean. Okay, okay, I will come out and say it: I want you to be my girlfriend.” “Is that how they ask people out in your village? There should at least be a marching band and maybe atilogwu dancers. Maybe the atilogwu dancers are on their way sef,” said Tobi, unable to hide the smile that was growing wider and wider. She could not believe it. Had he been eavesdropping on her conversation with Auntie Priscillia? Strange things has happened. “Oya now, what’s your answer? Please say Yes,” Dimeji pleaded, grabbing Tobi’s hands and clasping them in his own. “Yes. My answer is Yes,” Tobi said, and before she could say anything else, Dimeji pulled her close and planted a light kiss on her lips. Tobi suddenly remembered that her uncle could burst out of the gate at any moment, and quickly pulled away from Dimeji. He looked mildly offended. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, puzzled. “No-o. Not at all. It’s just that my un–” “Oh yes, I forgot about your uncle. But you’re not a child now. He should be okay w–” Tobi’s laughter interrupted him in mid-sentence. It was the sort of laughter that was designed to pass across a message, and the message embedded in Tobi’s laugh was, “You must be joking.” “My father is not even as strict as my uncle. As long as I live under his roof, no matter how old I am, he won’t be happy to find me kissing our neighbor outside his gate at night.” “Ah, how did I suddenly become ‘our neighbor’ all over again? You’re my girlfriend now.” “Girlfriend, not wife. Oya, I have to go back inside before they start looking for me.” “Wait now. You said you wanted to talk. I’m listening.” Tobi paused and then smiling, she told him: “It’s settled. There’s nothing left to talk about. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. No English wear o.” “Okay o. Come now …. There’s something else …” said Dimeji. Tobi obliged. With one swift move, Dimeji cupped Tobi’s face with his hands, and gave her a proper kiss. This time, she did not pull away. “See you tomorrow then,” he said, as he let his hands slide to her waist. Tobi nodded. He held her for a minute and then reluctantly let her go. As she retreated into the house, she thought to herself: “This is what they call promotion, for Dimeji is a far better kisser than Mayowa.” The following day was a Saturday, and Dimeji came to pick her up as planned. He wore a powder blue brocade buba with matching trousers, and Tobi wore a purple and gray lace blouse with a matching long skirt. She left her hair uncovered. “I don’t want to go there looking like Mr. Johnson’s second wife,” she replied when Dimeji asked her why she was not wearing a head tie. She felt that wearing a head tie would make her look older, a big no-no. “Don’t cover your hair, then. I prefer it like this,” he said, referring to the individual braids she had tied into a ponytail. Tobi blushed. The purple and silver eye shadow she had carefully applied was not lost on Dimeji either, and he made several jokes about it all the way to Agbor. Although they had to stop several times on the way to ask for directions to the street where Mr. Johnson lived, they finally arrived in Agbor late in the afternoon. The party was already in full swing when they walked into the spacious compound. Mr. Johnson, who was too busy celebrating life, did not even comment on Tobi’s relationship with the young man who she introduced as Dimeji. As it turned out, her fears were unfounded. After eating and drinking, Tobi got a chance to assess Dimeji’s moves on the dance floor to highlife music. She was quite impressed, but complained bitterly about it all the way home. “I’m sure you went to practice before coming to Agbor today. I’m so sure of it! Ahn, ahn, how can a man beat me on the dance floor like that?” Tobi lamented as they made their way home. Nightfall was fast approaching as Dimeji steered the car along Asaba-Agbor Road. “Babe, don’t jealous me! I sabi dance pass you. Just accept it,” said Dimeji. His feigned arrogance only served to irritate Tobi further. “I’m not inviting you to any more parties, until I have satisfied myself that I can beat you at this,” said Tobi, still sulking. Dimeji just laughed at her and turned on the radio. If you love me, you go wait for me … Onyeka Onwenu’s soulful voice blended with King Sunny Ade’s lighter tones in a delicious harmony. Tobi tried to change the channel. “Why? What are you doing?” Dimeji asked in surprise. “I like that song,” he said, making a futile attempt to flip the channel back to the previous radio station. “Well, I don’t. That song is–” Tobi began, and then, her voice faltered. “What’s the matter, Tobi?” “That was our song. Mayowa always sang it on my birthday. We even had a dance for it.” Dimeji burst out laughing, but when he realized that Tobi was serious, he swallowed the rest of his laughter. “You’re serious? That Mayowa guy used to sing this song to you and dance to it? Wow! I don’t think I can top that. In fact, I am begging you, please don’t ask me to. That’s the lamest, dumbest thing I have ever heard in my life!” He turned and caught the look on Tobi’s face. She looked hurt. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have been so insensitive, he being your ex and all.” “Prove it.” Tobi said. She looked and sounded so serious that Dimeji parked the car by the side of the road. His abrupt move startled a woman selling roasted yam nearby. The woman actually jumped up in fright and made as if to run from what she deemed imminent danger. Seeing that the car’s brakes worked perfectly fine and that he did not knock over either the yam or the keg of palm oil sitting on the floor, she cautiously returned to her spot. Spreading her palms menacingly at Dimeji, the sign otherwise known as Waka, or in this case, double Waka or Waka raised to the power two, she yelled: “God punish you!” Unfortunately for her, Dimeji was totally oblivious her cursing. He had turned off the car engine and was looking at Tobi. Then, he did the unthinkable. He got out of the car, walked over to Tobi’s side, opened her door and pulled her aside gently. With Tobi leaning on the front passenger’s side, confusion written all over her face, Dimeji’s lips parted and a song floated out. Tobi recognized the song immediately. It was P-Square’s I love you. “… The personal person for me-e-e …” Dimeji sang gleefully. One would think the guy actually composed the song himself. “Bros, you don craze finish o. Na song she go chop? If to say you buy her yam now, na she go dey sing for you!” said the yam seller, who had now turned to a roadside amebo. Why this woman thought that roasted yam and palm-oil was a romantic meal was anybody’s guess. Even more puzzling was the fact that she thought that insulting a potential customer would entice him to patronize her. Tobi and Dimeji simply ignored her. After Dimeji’s impromptu performance, Tobi smiled her thanks. Then, they got into the car and continued to Asaba in silence. Mostly. When they arrived in front of Chief Fashola’s house, Tobi turned to Dimeji and said: “I enjoyed the performance. Thanks again.” Before Dimeji could say anything, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Is that all I get? A peck? For all my hard work?!” Dimeji said, feigning surprise. “Good Night, Dimeji,” said Tobi as she got out of the car. As she climbed into bed less than an hour later, it finally dawned on her, the lesson Dimeji strove to teach her that afternoon: that although both good and bad memories can spring from the same experience, you can overwrite bad memories with good ones. Or something like that. As for Dimeji, he did not sleep a wink that night. That peck that Tobi had planted on his cheek had set him on fire, and it would take a lot to quench that fire. The following day was a Sunday. Dimeji travelled very early that morning and left Asaba for some business in Calabar. That meant that Tobi would have to go by herself to church. She was not looking forward to it, and it was not just because of Dimeji’s absence. She was avoiding Brother James. Who be brother James again? – to be continued –

EPISODE 10

Brother James was the unapologetically longwinded and pompous leader of the Sunday School class for youths in the church Tobi attended. Truthfully, most people referred to it as the “Singles’ Sunday School Class,” because it was attended by young, unmarried people. The married folks had their own class. But for whatever reason, the church chose to call this one the “Youths’ Sunday School Class.” Brother James partially fit the definition of a youth as envisioned by the Church. He was a tall, saucy-faced, energetic 32-year old, who was gainfully employed as a Geography and English teacher at a secondary school in Asaba. Although he was just a teacher, his ambition was far-reaching. His desire to attain the position of school principal in the near future was matched by a parallel desire of the same intensity: to find a wife. He believed that he had found the right woman. Her name was Tobi. In Brother James’ mind, Tobi was the embodiment of everything he desired in a woman: she was tall, elegant, attractive, well-mannered, and for the time being, quite active in church. In Brother James’ dictionary, active in church meant God-fearing. You see, at Aunty Priscillia’s insistence, Tobi had become more involved in church activities to while away time. She joined the Children’s Ministry, but she only served there on weekdays. Sunday morning was the time set aside for her and Dimeji to attend one service together. Sometimes, Dimeji attended the one hour Sunday school class with Tobi, before going to the main service, but on other days, they skipped Sunday school entirely and went straight for the service. Whenever Tobi and Dimeji showed up for Sunday school together, Brother James would invariably steer the topic for that morning’s class in the direction of ill-suited relationships. Unequal yokes, was the term he used regularly. Tobi had brought this observation to Dimeji’s attention many times, and each time, he dismissed it casually. He said that Tobi was only being too sensitive, and on one occasion, even said that she was probably imagining things. “Just ignore him.” That was Dimeji’s advice. Tobi tried to take Dimeji’s advice to heart. Oh, she really tried. But, the harder she tried to ignore Brother James and his little digs, the more obvious it was that he was being deliberate and determined to oppress them, as Tobi put it. To complicate matters, she noticed another trend. On the rare occasions when she came for Sunday school alone, Brother James would change his strategy: he would ask her to read almost every single bible passage referenced in the Sunday school manual, and would call on her by name to answer questions. By name. The entire thing irritated Tobi, but she kept attending because in her own stubborn way, she felt that it would take more than Brother James’ bullying to force her to leave. So, she kept coming, and Brother James kept at his game. That Sunday morning, Tobi reluctantly went for Sunday school alone. Because she had dragged her feet getting ready for church that morning, she got to church late. She entered the room for the Sunday school class when the lesson was already in full swing. Before she came in, they had been discussing one topic: faithfulness in serving the Lord. Brother James stood in front of the class, wearing a black suit that looked like he had inherited it from a man twice his size. The multi-colored flower print shirt he wore underneath did nothing to redeem the faux-pas that was the suit. This ensemble was his typical Sunday morning outfit, with the shirt he wore being the variable, and the suit being the constant. In one hand, he held a well-worn black leather bible, and in another hand, he held the paperback Sunday school manual. If the church had granted him permission, he would have brought a cane to flog those he considered to be less intelligent, who did not answer questions correctly. In the absence of a cane, however, Brother James employed a more effective weapon: his tongue. He had just made a long and verbose statement on Abraham’s dedication to God. As soon as Tobi entered the room, he quickly changed the topic to companionship. “…. And Abraham loved Sarah!” cried Brother James, with so much fervor that the other people in the room looked at one other in surprise. One look at their faces told Tobi all she needed to know: Brother James had just changed gears. He was up to his usual trick again. “Without Sarah, there could be no Abraham! Without Rachel there could be no Isaac! Without Mary there could be no–“ “Rebecca,” said Tobi, under her breath, to correct Brother James’ improper reference to Isaac. “What was that? Sister Tobi, is there something you would like to share with us?” Brother James said, hope rising in his voice, along with his Adam’s apple. Tobi could not believe it. Did this guy have a recording device hidden somewhere on her person? How on earth did he hear her from that distance? She was sitting at the very back of the classroom of about forty people, with six rows of chairs. As she sat thinking about it, she realized that he must have had his eyes glued to her the entire time, and saw her lips move. “Rebecca,” Tobi repeated, in a loud voice. “I was just correcting you, Brother James. You paired Rachel with Isaac. Rachel was married to Jacob. Rebecca was married to Isaac.” Ordinarily, Brother James detested being corrected or reproved in any way in front of other people. But because it was Tobi who was doing the correction, he was more forgiving, and even praised her. “Brethren, you see, that is why it is good to study the word. We should all become scholars of God’s word, just like Sister Tobi,” said Brother James, beaming and pointing a long nail that should have been clipped weeks ago in her direction. A few people turned around to glare at her, mostly women, and Tobi could feel the disapproval of the other class attendees from all corners of the room. “I don’t know what this guy thinks he is doing, singling me out like this. At this rate, he has succeeded in making more people hate me,” Tobi thought to herself. She was right. There were other young women in that room who hankered after Brother James’ affection and craved that sort of attention. But he showered it on the one person who would rather not receive it. The irony! Such is life sha. Tobi endured Brother James for another ten minutes, after which it was time for the service. As she picked up her things to leave, Brother James all but flew from the front of the class to the back row where she was. “This guy is the original Superman!” Tobi exclaimed inwardly. “I could have sworn I saw him in front just a second ago.” The man who stood beside her was all smiles as he told her that he wanted to see her briefly after the service. Tobi laughed at the word “briefly.” She wondered if he even knew what it meant, seeing that he hardly ever kept to time. “Ah, but you are seeing me right now, Brother James. Abi, is it someone else that is standing in front of you?” said Tobi, hoping he would get the hint and leave her alone. He did not. “No-o! Sister Tobi, you’re so funny! God-fearing and funny. You are truly blessed,” Brother James said with a smile, exposing a chipped tooth in the upper row of his teeth. Tobi wondered if he had chipped it while trying to crack a bone, or if someone had filed that particular tooth with a nail file in his sleep. The angle of that chip … “Really?” said Tobi, failing to see how her sarcastic remark could have been interpreted as a joke. “Yes, you are. Too funny, in fact,” he insisted. “Okay, Brother James. I am all ears.” “No, Sister Tobi. Not now. Let’s see each other after the service. There will be more time then. God bless you sister,” he said as he sped off to secure a seat in front of the church. “See each other, indeed,” said Tobi, mimicking him. “E be like say you no know me.” Clearly, Brother James did not know Tobi. She dutifully went through the motions of the church service. But as soon as the Pastor’s sermon was over, while most people’s eyes were closed during the altar call, she slipped out and headed home. By the time they shared the Grace, she was sitting on top of an okada, halfway to Okpannam Road. The meeting with Brother James would only take place in his dreams. The following day was a Monday. She had a job interview at one of the numerous hotels in Asaba, which was famous for its hospitality. The position was for a front desk clerk, something she was over-qualified for. Who goes to the university, goes through the trouble of acquiring a degree, and then graduates to work at a job that does not even require a secondary school certificate? Tobi considered this over and over again as she prepared to leave, but under the circumstances, she knew she did not have a choice. It was far better to be working at this job than to be unemployed. She was sick and tired of staying at home. The interview itself lasted less than thirty minutes, but Tobi ended up spending more than four hours just waiting for her turn. There were almost twenty other people waiting to be interviewed for the same position that day, and the interviewer, a small, robust man who was one of two managers at the hotel decided that interviews were not his priority. He went to take care of numerous official and unofficial duties, while the poor interviewees waited. He made phone calls, dictated memos to his secretary, possibly left comments on people’s Facebook walls, and even went out to lunch, while all these people waited for him. Tobi, whose interview was scheduled for 9:30 am did not get interviewed until it was almost 1:30 pm.As she left, thoroughly exhausted, she decided in her heart that if she ever owned her own business, she would do things differently. “Chei! I have suffered. All this wahala just for one miserable job interview? How much will they pay me sef?” she thought to herself as she walked to the nearest bus stop. “Not enough, that’s for sure.” She was so deeply immersed in her own thoughts that she did not see the man across the street that first waved to her, and when he did not receive any response, crossed the street to meet her. It was Brother James. – to be continued –

EPISODE 11

The school where he (Bro James) taught was located on the same road as the hotel, and he was just leaving for his second shift at the home of one of his students where he gave private English lessons. Tobi did not see him until he was standing right in front of her. By then, it was too late to escape. “Sister Tobi, how are you doing?” said Brother James, genuinely happy to see her. He could not believe his luck, and his smile was only outshone by the bright sun. “Fine, thank you,” replied Tobi reluctantly. Oh God! Where did this man come from? Is he stalking me? “Sister Tobi, I looked for you after service yesterday, but I did not see you. What happened?” I ran away from you! That’s what happened. I wish I could run away again. If I had a horse, a camel or even a donkey, I would ride far, far away from you, Brother James. Where are the horses in Asaba? “Oh, Brother James, I … er … I had to leave early. I had an appointment right after the service.” Tobi did not mention, of course, that the appointment she referred to, was an appointment with her bed. She had taken her cherished Sunday nap as soon as she got home. “Issokay, Sister Tobi. These things happen. So where are you–?” “I don’t want to miss my bus, Brother James,” Tobi interrupted impatiently. While they were having this conversation, she had watched three buses she ought to have boarded, stop, drop off passengers and then leave. All because of this yeye man. Either Brother James did not realize this or else he pretended not to notice, and instead, continued talking. “So, the thing I wanted to discuss with you, Sister Tobi,” he began, pulling his suit closer to his body as if he was cold, even though he was sweating like a Christmas goat, you know all those church brother like that, them no sabi toast. “Can’t this wait, Brother James? I’m kind of in a hurry,” said Tobi. She was thinking of an excuse to give so she could rush off, but none was forthcoming. Besides which, there were no other buses coming at that time. So, she was forced to stand there and listen to Brother James’ speech. “Ah, Sister Tobi, it can’t wait o. In fact, it’s an emergency,” said Brother James, a sly smile spreading across his face. That smile made Tobi uneasy and at the same time piqued her curiosity. What could be so important that he wanted to discuss? “Okay, go on. I’m listening.” “The first matter has to do with your soul, Sister Tobi.” “My soul?” said Tobi, unable to hide her surprise. “What about it?” “Yes, I’m glad you asked. You see, the Bible says that the soul that sinneth shall die,” Brother James started. “Ehen … And so? Aren’t we all sinners?” “Sister Tobi, the Bible also says that a believer should not be unequally yoked with an unbeliever. I know you’re a child of God. I have watched you serve in the Children’s Ministry, and I can see that you love the Lord–“ Stalker alert! So this man has been watching me? Chineke, have mercy! Which kain person be dis? See how he’s just jumping to conclusions left, right and center. Make I hear wetin he go talk finish. “I see. Continue,” said Tobi, with a calmness that surprised even her. “… But that man you are dating is not a child of God. He is bad news. That man is a deceiver, an unbeliever and possibly even a molester.” You dey craze! Na all your family dem, na dem be deceivers! Useless man! With her eyebrows raised and even though she could feel her blood pressure rising dangerously high, she managed to ask him: “And, what makes you think you can level such accusations against Dimeji in my presence? You don’t even know him.” Tobi knew she was under-reacting to what Brother James said, but something inside her told her to be patient and hear him out. Although she was on the verge of knocking out the something inside her with an uppercut, she obeyed nonetheless. She knew Brother James was not done. “You see, Sister Tobi, you are a treasure, not just to the body of Christ, but to me as well,” said Brother James. Tobi could have sworn she saw him blushing. “You are a rare jewel, more precious than rubies, sapphires, and even emeralds. I consider it my responsibility to acquaint you with the character of the man you think you know. Believe me, Sister Tobi, there is more to him than meets the eye.” Ehen! See grammar plus toasting! So men too gossip? Wonders shall never end. No more Sunday school for me, after this. Definitely. And how did he leave out diamonds? For that reason alone, person suppose vex.Tobi was past the point of vexing, but she waited for him to finish. Brother James continued. “I know you must be wondering why I would say these things about him, but I have my reasons.” So you can’t even say his name? Rubbish! “Oh please, enlighten me,” Tobi said, folding her hands across her chest, her purse dangling from her right shoulder. That posture was strategic. It was calculated to restrain her hands from reaching out and decorating Brother James face with assorted slaps. He deserved it for the insults he was hurling at her, but she waited for him to finish. Her time would come soon enough, and she would certainly not let this one slide. “First of all, Sister Tobi, I want you to know that if you persist in this relationship with that man, you will go to hell. He is an unbeliever and he will surely lead you to sin. If you are serious with your relationship with God, you will leave him and be joined with a believer instead. In fact, I had a dream where I saw you and me in a boat–“ “Brother James, I am not interested in your dreams, visions or hallucinations,” Tobi spat in anger. “Your proposal is hereby rejected. Next!” “Ahn ahn wait now, Sister Tobi,” Brother James pleaded. “It’s not like that–“ “Oh really? So tell me, how is it?” “Look, I did not make this up. That man is a deceiver! He has a child with a woman right here in Asaba and if you ask me, he might even be the Aba rapist!” Tobi felt like someone had just poured cold water on her. What did this idiot just say? “Brother James, repeat what you just said,” said Tobi, breathing heavily. “That man you’re moving around with already has a child with another woman. And he’s a criminal. So, it’s better you break–“ “You are mad! As a matter of fact, you are out of your bloody mind! How dare you?!” Tobi thundered, inching closer to Brother James, who instinctively took a few steps back. He knew he had crossed the line. “No-o-o, Sister Tobi! It’s what I heard o. I did not make–“ “Shut up! I said shut up there! You know what? You’re right. My soul is in danger, and so is your life too if you don’t vamoose from here right now. Na by force? Am I the only sister in church? You must truly be a coward, running down another man with baseless accusations just because you want to take what he already has. Aba rapist indeed! Of all the accusations to level against an innocent man. Why did you stop there? Why not take it further and accuse him of all the armed robberies in Asaba? Who knows if you are not the Aba rapist? And Dimeji has a child? You’re just a pathetic liar, and a disgrace to Christians everywhere!” By now, Tobi was shouting at the top of her voice and had attracted the attention of other people waiting at the bus stop. Some of them began begging her to calm down, while others told Brother James to leave since he was the one who had angered her. Brother James reluctantly left, but before he did, he yelled one last time to Tobi: “If you don’t believe me, ask him! Ask him about his son. And look in the newspapers for the sketch of the Aba rapist. You’ll know who is lying then.” That was the last thing Tobi heard Brother James say as he walked away and disappeared further down the road, fuming. But his anger could not be compared with Tobi’s own. She blamed herself for waiting to listen to all the rubbish he just said. I should have slapped that his mouth shut. I should have thrown my shoe at him. Foolish man! But as she considered the second option, she was glad she did not take it because she would have had to walk home with just one shoe that day. The people, who had calmed her down, soon entered the buses taking them to their destinations and so did Tobi, just a few minutes after Brother James had gone. Throughout the journey home, she was restless, reconstructing in her mind what she ought to have done to Brother James and how she had been too lenient with him. But the one thing that troubled her the most was this nagging feeling that there was some truth in what he had just told her. What if he was right? What if Dimeji had lied to her about fathering a child and was actually the Aba rapist? What if he was married? To make matters worse, Dimeji was still out of town and would not be back till Wednesday. What was she going to do? Should she confront him with these accusations over the phone or wait till he got back? Should she even believe what Brother James said? After all, he had ulterior motives for levelling these accusations against Dimeji. Tobi began to worry that maybe she did not know Dimeji well enough. Wasn’t their relationship based on trust? Could she really trust him?All Tobi had were questions, but no answers. She needed answers fast. Her impatience made her want to ask him these questions over the phone, but she remembered her breakup with Mayowa, and how he had broken up with her in person rather than on the phone. A breakup is painful, but the seriousness of such matters makes anything less than a face-to-face confrontation less humane and less personal. Tobi wanted to look into Dimeji’s eyes while he answered those questions. Anything less would be unsatisfactory. She knew her heart would not rest until she had talked to him in person. So when she got home, she called him and told him that when he came back to Asaba, she had a very serious matter to discuss with him. He noted the graveness of her tone and asked her to tell him what was wrong. She refused and said this was not something they could discuss over the phone. Dimeji reluctantly agreed to let the matter pass and promised to see her as soon as he arrived in Asaba on Wednesday. For the rest of the day, Tobi was restless and lost her appetite. It did not slip Auntie Priscillia’s watchful eyes, but when she asked Tobi what the matter was, her niece declined to answer. Auntie Priscillia surmised that she had quarreled with Dimeji and that when Tobi was ready she would tell her what had happened. So, she let her be. – to be continued –

EPISODE 12

Tobi went to bed very early that day, but sleep evaded her. At about 2:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning, when the whole house was asleep, she went downstairs and searched for Monday’s paper. Her uncle usually kept the newspapers for the entire week in a magazine stand in the sitting room, and only threw them away on Sundays. He usually went through the newspapers a second time on Sunday afternoons to decide which articles he would keep. The ones he retained typically had some important information on the furniture industry, especially as it related to the Southern part of Nigeria. Tobi was grateful for her uncle’s peculiar habit because if he destroyed the papers immediately after reading them, she would have had to go to one of the newspaper vendors hoping they still retained the copy she needed. Thankfully, she could conduct her own hassle-free research within the confines of the house. As she predicted, her uncle had destroyed the newspapers for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday of the previous week. So, the only ones she found were bits and pieces of the newspapers for Thursday, Saturday, Sunday and the entire newspaper for Monday, which was the day before. She started out with the newspaper for Monday, scouring it for any kind of news or information on the Aba rapist. Nothing. Then, she looked at the cut out articles for the other days. She was just about to give up her search, when she saw on the back of an article, which talked about a new furniture company that had opened in Asaba a month ago, the sketch of a man’s face. It was just an amateur pencil-drawn sketch from the top of the man’s head to his upper chest, but the details in that drawing were enough to freeze the blood in her veins. From the large eyes to the broad nose to the thick lips and even down to the Adam’s apple, the face in the picture closely resembled Dimeji’s face. Even the piercings in both ears were present. However, some features were missing. The man in the sketch did not have the dimples, which showed whenever Dimeji’s face contracted into a smile. Furthermore, this person had laugh lines near the outer corners of his eyes, and Tobi strained her mind to remember if she had ever seen similar lines on Dimeji’s face. She grabbed her phone and quickly looked at Dimeji’s pictures. No laugh lines. “Phew! Thank God!” she said. But now that she had his pictures to compare with the sketch, her temporary relief dissipated, and was replaced instead by worry. Dimeji bore an uncanny resemblance to the man in the sketch. Not knowing what to do next, Tobi read the little article that followed the picture. It basically said that some of the victims had described the man who raped them and an artist had pieced together their descriptions to produce the drawing. People were asked to contact their local police station if they had any information about the identity or whereabouts of the man in the picture. “If Brother James was so sure that Dimeji was the man in the picture, he would have alerted the police. Why didn’t he do so? It can’t be because of any sympathy he feels for Dimeji, that’s for sure. So what could be the reason?” As she sat there deliberating, the answer came to her: he was not completely sure. And to tell the truth, Tobi herself was not sure. She certainly hoped that it was not true, but Brother James had succeeded in planting the seed of doubt in her heart. There was a chance that he was wrong. Brother James was not the only person who had seen the sketch in that paper: the whole of Asaba and its environs had seen it too. They probably knew people who fit that description, apart from Dimeji. “Of the 2 million people in Asaba, why must the Aba rapist look like my own boyfriend?” Tobi groaned. She decided there and then to let the police investigation run its course. But from that point forward, she would watch Dimeji closely. She went to bed but did not fall asleep until it was almost 5:00 am. She did not wake up until around 2:00 pm on Tuesday afternoon, spending the rest of the day indoors. Time seemed to crawl by slowly, but eventually, Wednesday arrived. That day, however, she did not care. She needed answers and that was all that mattered to her. They walked in silence to Dimeji’s house, and he led her to the sitting room. There was no one else in the house. “Okay now, will you tell me what’s going on?” said Dimeji, sitting beside Tobi on a leather sofa. He tried to take her hand, but she pushed him away. “I saw Brother James at the bus-stop on Monday,” Tobi started. “For real? Is Brother James the reason why you’re boning for me?” Dimeji asked in surprise. “Let me finish.” Tobi and Dimeji had agreed to meet at about 5:00 p.m. that day. He arrived from Calabar just before 3:00 pm, but had to attend to some pressing matters at the new branch before finally making it to Tobi’s house around 4:30 pm.When Tobi saw Dimeji, she struggled with mixed feelings. There was a part of her that wanted to embrace him, but another part distrusted him. Dimeji could tell just by looking at her that something was wrong. He walked up to her and hugged her, but she did not respond. Her body was stiff and cold like a tree trunk. Dimeji was alarmed.“Tobi, what’s wrong? Tell me. I’m here now. What’s going on?” a worried Dimeji asked her. “Let’s go to your house,” Tobi responded “Okay o, Madam. Carry go.” Tobi launched into a detailed account of her conversation with Brother James. As she narrated Brother James’ pathetic attempt at toasting her, Dimeji burst into laughter. But as soon as he caught the no-nonsense look on Tobi’s face, he cleared his throat, and assumed a serious look. The house where Dimeji lived actually belonged to his close friend who lived in the United States. Apart from Dimeji, the only other people who lived there were the caretaker and his wife. They both stayed in the boys’ quarters, and they saw to the upkeep of the house in the absence of the owner. Dimeji’s friend had agreed to let him stay there whenever he was in Asaba. As the house was Dimeji’s temporary residence, it was the one of the few places where they could talk with some measure of privacy. Normally, Tobi avoided going alone to Dimeji’s house out of concern for her reputation in the neighborhood. She did not want anyone peddling rumors to her uncle and aunt, so she usually went to his house in the company of her cousins. That day, however, she did not care. She needed answers and that was all that mattered to her. They walked in silence to Dimeji’s house, and he led her to the sitting room. There was no one else in the house. “Okay now, will you tell me what’s going on?” said Dimeji, sitting beside Tobi on a leather sofa. He tried to take her hand, but she pushed him away. “I saw Brother James at the bus-stop on Monday,” Tobi started. “For real? Is Brother James the reason why you’re boning for me?” Dimeji asked in surprise. “Let me finish.” “Okay o, Madam. Carry go.” Tobi launched into a detailed account of her conversation with Brother James. As she narrated Brother James’ pathetic attempt at toasting her, Dimeji burst into laughter. But as soon as he caught the no-nonsense look on Tobi’s face, he cleared his throat, and assumed a serious look. “…And he said you were a criminal, and even named you as the Aba rapist,” Tobi said, looking straight at Dimeji. Dimeji jumped to his feet boiling with anger. “And you believed him? What a joke! My goodness! Tobi, are you that gullible?! Please tell me you don’t believe that nonsense?” Tobi took note of his reaction and continued swiftly with the second allegation. “He also said that … that you had a son. Is that also a lie?” Tobi asked in an icy tone, looking directly into Dimeji’s eyes. At the mention of the word ‘son,’ Dimeji tore his gaze away from Tobi and turned his back to her. In that moment, Tobi’s worst fears were confirmed. – to be continued –

EPISODE 13

“Dimeji, I’m talking to you. Tell me it’s not true,” said Tobi, tears filling her eyes. She had hoped and prayed that it was just a hoax, something she could write off as the ravings of a jealous man, but the look in Dimeji’s eyes coupled with his silence, spoke volumes. She began to sob uncontrollably. “Tobi, I’m sorry … It’s um … it’s complicated. I should have told you earlier.” “You bastard! How could you hide something of this magnitude from me? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You’ve made a fool of me. Why me? W-h-y–” Tobi cried. “Tobi, please let me explain–“ “Explain what? Unless you’re about to tell me that you’re not the child’s father, I don’t want to hear any useless explanation from you.” “But that’s the thing, Tobi. I’m not sure. I don’t know for sure if I’m Tomiwa’s father.” “How can you not know? Who goes about claiming to be a child’s father without being certain?” “Tobi, you have every right to be angry, but if you would just calm down–“ “I am not calming down! It is because I was acting like a gentlewoman that you thought you could fool me. If you had tried this nonsense with one of those correct Lagos girls, you know what they would have done to you!” “But you’re not like that now–“ “Which is why you took advantage of me, abi? I resemble mumu?” Tobi walked away angrily and Dimeji went after her, begging her to come back. She had almost reached the gate when she remembered that a similar scene had played out between her and Mayowa. After Mayowa introduced Folake as his new girlfriend, Tobi had stormed off immediately, cutting off all ties with the two of them. She had also lost the opportunity to get closure. Folake, not Mayowa, had offered to explain, but Tobi had left without waiting to hear the rest. In the weeks that followed, she had wanted that explanation. She felt like that chapter in her life was still open, and that regardless of how lame or inadequate Folake’s explanation was, it would still have been better than not knowing at all. As Tobi turned around to face Dimeji, she realized that she was doing the same thing again: running away without giving an opportunity for any explanation. She knew that her anger was justified, that she had been wronged, but she also knew that if she left Dimeji under these circumstances, she would be filled with regret for the rest of her life. For whatever it is worth, let me hear what he has to say. She allowed Dimeji to lead her back into the house, but rebuffed his attempts to hold her, to comfort her. She was not in the mood for that level of reconciliation. She just wanted closure. “Tobi, I know I have wronged you. I know I have hurt you deeply, but believe me when I say that I am truly sorry. I never intended to keep this away from you. I know you won’t believe me, but I planned to tell you. I just didn’t know how or when … And … and I was scared I would lose you.”“So fear kept you from acting like a real man, abi? You were so afraid that you forgot how to be a man. Is that your excuse? Isn’t that the excuse all you men give?” Tobi sneered. She had wiped her eyes and sorrow was now replaced by resentment. “Tobi, I am not all men. I cannot speak for all men. I can only speak for Dimeji … for myself.” A thought suddenly occurred to Tobi. “The person speaking Hausa … Yes, Dimeji, the person who always speaks to you in Hausa on the phone … is that your child’s mother? Your wife? Baby mama?” she asked. “None of the above. It was my mother.” “So, why didn’t you just tell me that before?” “Because I would have had to tell you why she chose to speak to me in Hausa. Remember the last time she called, and you were there, she was asking about the child. Tomiwa, I mean, and his mother, Enitan.” “Wait o … Isn’t that your ex-girlfriend? The one you said was your fellow corper in Kogi?” Tobi said in surprise. “Yes … Yes, that’s her. Enitan,” said Dimeji bitterly. “I regret the day I met her.” “I bet you do now,” said Tobi, eyeing him. “No, Tobi. I’m serious. Look this is what happened: My youth service was four years ago.” “That is 2009, right?” “Yes. That’s when it ended. That was also the year when I ended my relationship with Enitan. I never went back to her, I swear by my mother’s–“ “There’s no need for all that efizi, Mr. Bakare. Just continue.” “Why now? How did I become Mr. Bakare? Dimeji is just–“ “Isn’t that your name? Abi, is that also a lie?” “Tobi, look. Sarcasm will not help–“ “Dimeji, just carry go. I’m listening,” Tobi interrupted impatiently. “Okay. If you say so,” he said sulking. “After we completed our service and left Kogi, I did not see her again. Not until last year. November 2012. I kept the same phone number since my NYSC days, so she had my number. She called me out of the blues, and said she had something important to discuss with me–“ “I thought it was harmless, so I agreed. I thought maybe she wanted my help with some business … you know … or something like that. Only for her to tell me she had a son. I even congratulated her and asked after the child’s father, until she said: ‘You are the father.’ I thought she was joking. In fact, I told her she was not serious, but she insisted that she was telling the truth. See, we broke up shortly before our service year ended, and–““Bla, bla, bla! Here we go! Save all these explanations for someone who cares jo! All you suppose talk be say de kain dangerous play wey una dey play on top mattress don turn to belle … Finish!” said Tobi sarcastically. Dimeji paused and opened his mouth like he was going to say something to her, but decided against it. He took a deep breath and simply picked up from where he stopped. “You’re right that is what happened, but that is not all. According to her, after we broke up, she discovered that she was pregnant, but decided not to contact me. She felt sure that I would deny paternity of the child, and decided to raise the child by herself.” “Would you … I mean, would you have denied paternity?” Tobi asked curiously. “No, I would never do such a thing. I’m a responsible man.” “Some people would argue otherwise, but hey, carry on. So why did she call you?” “The child was going to start nursery school this year. He was two years old at the time she came to see me. He actually turned three in July. She wanted him to start when he turned three, and said she did not want his education to suffer. She’s a teacher here in Asaba, and can’t afford to pay his school fees if he attends a private school.” “Wait … what did you say?”“She can’t afford–“ “No. Before that. You said she was a teacher, right?” said Tobi, sitting up. “Yes. She teaches Biology at a secondary school here in Asaba,” said Dimeji quite surprised. “Why did you ask?” “What’s the name of the school, Dimeji?” Tobi asked. “Graceville College.” “Oh, never mind,” Tobi said in a deflated voice. “I thought I could explain how Brother James came to know about Enitan and the child. Maybe someone told him. But wait o. Did you say Graceville College?” “Yes.” “My cousins attend that school. Isn’t it the one on Summit Road?” “Yes. That’s the one. Small world.” “A very, small world indeed.” There was a short silence as each person’s thoughts wandered off, but then Dimeji broke the silence with: “So that’s why she contacted me. She wanted me to at least pay for the child’s school fees. At first, I refused. Remember her history during our NYSC days? I was skeptical about the child’s paternity, so I told her that I needed proof. She said the only proof she was going to give me was the child’s picture. She showed me his picture, and honestly, Tobi … he kinda looks like me. I mean, his ears are pointy just like–“ “Ehn ehn! Please spare me the details.” “Well, my mother took Enitan’s side. When she saw the picture, she agreed that he was my son. She says he has my nose and … Sorry, Tobi. I’m making you uncomfortable. I know this is not what you want to hear, but I have my doubts.”“So your mother supported her too? Wonderful. I guess it’s settled then. I mean, your mother can’t be wrong.” “I challenged my mum, especially because of what I knew about Enitan. But she insisted that Enitan was right. In her words, “a mother will always know who the father of her child is.” Who can argue with that?” “Certainly not me.” “So whenever my mother called, I insisted on speaking to her in Hausa so you would not know what we were discussing. I’m sorry, Tobi,” a shame-faced Dimeji said. “Are you sure that is all you wanted to tell me? Look, if you have another Baby Mama who has had twins for you, tucked away somewhere in Abeokuta, this would be the time to speak up.” “Haba, Tobi! I said I was sorry. Why do you think I am still hiding anything from you?” “Old habits die hard, Mister.” “Look Tobi, it was originally because of Enitan and Tomiwa that I came to Asaba. Opening a new branch was just secondary. I wanted to have some sort of relationship with the child, you know. But life in Asaba has taken on a new meaning for me since I met you. You made me believe I could start afresh, like there was still hope for me. Please Tobi, I know I have messed up, but please don’t leave me.” By this time, Dimeji was already on his knees and holding Tobi’s hands. She started crying again. She knew he was telling the truth, but she was reluctant to forgive him just then. He would need to earn her trust again.“Dimeji … get up,” Tobi said in-between sobs. He did, and she allowed him hold her for a few minutes before pulling away from him. “I’m still angry with you, and I will probably be angry for the next few weeks. But, you have to let that anger run its course. You have to understand that all this … this news is overwhelming, you having a child with your ex-girlfriend. I am not sure I can handle it, but I will try. What I really want is clarity. I listened to everything you said, about Enitan and Tomiwa, and the one thing that kept coming up was this: you doubt that this child is truly your son. From what you have told me about Enitan, and also judging from the circumstances under which she contacted you, I have my own doubts too. She seems to be a very smart person, so why did she not try to contact you when she discovered that she was pregnant? There’s something else she is not telling you. Besides, I am not sure I can date a man who already has a child–“ “I understand, Tobi. And I don’t blame you. But for my sake … please, I don’t want to lose you.” “Let’s take this one step at a time, okay.” “Okay. I think we first need to find out for certain if I am Tomiwa’s father. When we know for sure, then whatever decision you take is fine by me.” Tobi knew Dimeji was just saying that to calm her down. She knew that even if Dimeji discovered that he was truly the child’s father, he would still try to convince her not to leave him. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Meanwhile, how can we do a paternity test?” “See, that’s why I stopped in Aba, when I was coming to Asaba for the first time. Someone told me about a lab in Aba operated by a very meticulous gentleman. Among other things they do DNA tests. I stopped there and checked out the facilities before coming here. You would be really surprised. That place is loaded o, well-equipped and everything. You won’t believe it’s in Nigeria.”“Are you serious? In Aba? But come o … a lab in Aba? Hmmm … I don’t trust.” “Look, Tobi. I know what you mean, but I would feel more comfortable if the results came from Aba where no one knows either me or Enitan, than here in Asaba, where only God knows which of her relatives or friends works there.” “That’s true. Aba would be a neutral place. They would have no incentive to tamper with the results there. So, what are we going to do, Dimeji?” Tobi asked. “Let’s sleep on it. Quality ideas will come after we have rested,” said Dimeji. Tobi agreed with him, and they decided to meet the following day at the same time. – to be continued

EPISODE 14

Dimeji was right, as Tobi later discovered. Before they parted ways, Dimeji had told Tobi of the various DNA samples that could be used to determine paternity. Tobi had been apprehensive at first, thinking that they would need to draw the child’s blood. But Dimeji had set her mind at ease. There were less invasive, painless methods, which were just as effective, and he shared this information with her. He had learned about these other methods while visiting the lab in Aba, and they told him what he needed to bring, including the documents he had to present. There would be no need to obtain the mother’s consent because as Dimeji reasoned, Enitan would certainly withhold her consent, if she knew his plans. Later that evening, while Tobi was washing her clothes and deliberating on everything they had discussed, an idea occurred to her. By the time she met with Dimeji the following day, they came up with a formidable plan to once and for all, lay to rest this question of paternity. Chief Fasola was turning 57 in November of that same year, and was having a fairly large birthday party to mark the special occasion. The party was ‘fairly large’ because it was going to hold in his own compound, which could comfortably sit hundreds of people. A larger crowd would have required them to rent an events hall, but Chief planned to do that when he turned 60. Nonetheless, like he had done with every birthday celebration since he turned 50, each guest would receive an invitation card. The invitation card was just a formality; everyone knew that half of the people who would show up were uninvited. But they would not be turned away. So, provision was made for them as well.Tobi suggested to Aunty Priscillia, that they should invite the school teachers at Graceville College for the birthday party. Aunty Priscillia, who had no inkling of their plan, agreed wholeheartedly. It would be a way of saying “Thank you” for giving their children quality education, she told Tobi. Tobi also made sure that the teachers were told to bring their family members, especially their children, as there would be special games and gifts for the children. It was this part of Tobi’s suggestion that piqued her aunt’s curiosity and put the older woman on her guard, unbeknownst to Tobi. “I wonder what this girl is up to,” Auntie Priscillia thought to herself. “I will watch her closely. She can’t hide forever.” From that day forward, Auntie Priscillia watched Tobi more closely than before. Tobi who was not aware of the attention she had drawn to herself continued with the plan that she and Dimeji had carefully crafted. Tobi confirmed from Godwin and also her cousins, that Enitan , the Biology teacher had received an invitation to the birthday party along with all the other teachers. “Now, all we have to do is watch and pray,” Tobi thought. Having warned Dimeji not to come anywhere near the house on the day of the birthday party, to avoid drawing Enitan’s suspicion, Tobi continued to help her aunt prepare for the the-day. The day finally arrived. Although Chief ‘s official birthday was November 14, the party was held on Saturday, November 16, because November 14 fell on a Thursday. Her aunt and uncle wore matching outfits, with Chief donning his traditional red cap, in addition to the special ceremonial beads he usually wore. The party was scheduled to start at 1:00 pm. Most people did not arrive until two hours later. Tobi got up as early as 6 am to assist her aunt with the food preparations. By the time the party started, she was quite tired! She was tempted to go and lie down for a few minutes, but the fear of over-sleeping and ruining their plan kept her awake. Her aunt had put her and Chikodi in charge of the children’s entertainment. There were several rented canopies in the yard for the adults, but the children were taken indoors to the children’s parlor, which was upstairs. Initially, they had planned to put the children under a tent in the compound, and had even hired a clown to entertain the children. But when the clown did not show up, they took the children upstairs to what was supposed to be a more controlled environment. As at the time they moved the children upstairs, Enitan had not arrived. In fact, Tobi had grown pensive and was already having second thoughts about this arrangement, when she stepped onto the balcony and looked towards the gate.At that moment, she saw a tall, attractive dark-skinned woman, holding onto a toddler, come through the gate. From the pictures Dimeji had shown her, she knew this woman was Enitan, and deduced that the little child with her was Tomiwa, her son. They were accompanied by another man, who appeared to be Enitan’s guest. They sat together the entire time. As soon as she saw the child, Tobi felt guilty about what she was going to do to him. But, she stilled herself and decided that the end justified the means. After Enitan and her guest were comfortably seated and eating, Tobi sent Rita to fetch Tomiwa. That was the protocol they had adopted for the other children as well. He reluctantly left his mother and looked like he was going to cry, but after she told him that big boys don’t cry, he marched off with Rita, like a little soldier. When Rita brought him upstairs, Tobi immediately went to him. She sat with him and played with him, made sure he ate and warmed up to her. Tomiwa was not a fussy child, to Tobi’s delight, and drawing on the experience she had working with children in church, she knew just what to do to gain his trust. All this while, Auntie Priscillia had been watching tobi. She noticed the special interest that Tobi took in one particular little boy, and took a few minutes to join them upstairs. Tobie saw her aunt in the children’s parlor, but did not suspect anything. She was waiting for her opportunity. Like clockwork, it came. Tomiwa, who Tobi ensured drank lots and lots of water, soon told her in that half-formed English, which children are known to use, that he needed to go to the bathroom. This was the opportunity Tobi had waited for, and she moved quickly. Instead of taking Tomiwa to the visitor’s bathroom close by, she led the toddler to her room and took him to the adjoining bathroom instead. After he had emptied his little bladder, she took him to the desk beside her bed, and asked him if he wanted to eat sweets. Which child would ever turn down such an offer? Certainly not Tomiwa. His eyes lit up when he heard the word “sweet.” Nodding his head vigorously, he started to chant in an excited voice: “Sweet, sweet, sweet!” Tobi was struck by the child’s innocence. “He has no idea what I am about to do. May God forgive me and Dimeji, and may God erase this episode from this child’s memory,” Tobi prayed, as she opened a drawer beside her bed. She pulled out three clear plastic zipper bags. Each bag had one clean cotton swab inside it, the kind people shove into their ears in the name of cleaning out ear wax. Tobi opened the first bag and pulling out the first cotton swab told the child:“Okay, before you eat any sweet, auntie has to check to make sure your mouth is clean enough, alright?” The poor child nodded. He would do anything for that candy. Tobi quickly wore a pair of latex gloves and then instructed the child: “Oya open your mouth wide. Say ‘Ahhhh!’ ” said Tobi, holding the cotton swab ready. As soon as Tomiwa opened his mouth, she looked past his milk teeth and gently used the swab to swipe the inside of his cheeks. Tomiwa almost bit her the first time. “Auntie, tick-ying me,” he whined. “I know it is tickling you. Don’t you want to eat sweets?”He nodded and let her re-try. She did and retrieved the saliva-drenched end of the cotton swab from the child’s mouth. Placing it on top of the now empty zipper bag, she moved on to the second one. She had just collected the second sample, when the door burst open and in walked Auntie Priscillia. She looked very angry. Tobi, in her fright, had mistakenly dropped the cotton swab she had just retrieved on the floor. “I should’ve locked that door! Well, it looks like I won’t be using that swab,” she thought as she faced her Auntie. How would she explain what was going on? Worse still, what if Auntie Priscillia put a stop to everything? What then? The noise from the door opening suddenly had also frightened Tomiwa who began wailing loudly. Auntie Priscillia picked up the child and began to pat him gently on his back to soothe him. While she was doing this, she faced her niece. “What do you think you’re doing, Tobi?” she asked. “Why do you have someone else’s child alone in your room, trying to give him sweet? What evil have you planned for this child ehn?” Auntie Priscillia demanded glaring at Tobi. Tobi knew she had to tell the truth. So, she gave Auntie Priscillia a two-minute summary of what had transpired between her and Dimeji, who the child was and why they needed his DNA samples.Auntie Priscillia calmed down slightly when she found out it was just a cheek swab Tobi was conducting. She had feared it was something more sinister like a blood sample. But the revelation did not completely quell her anger. “Why didn’t you tell me or your uncle all this? What if someone else had come in? You want to spoil my name in this town? It’s not your fault. Shebi you will just run back to Lagos while those of us who live here will face the music. That is your plan, isn’t it?” she said to Tobi. “Auntie, it’s not like that at all. I … We just want to be sure, that is all.” “And this is the only way to be sure?” said Auntie Priscillia in disbelief. “Auntie, this is the only way we know.” “Do your parents know about this?” “Not yet, Auntie. I will tell them when the time is right.” By now, Tomiwa had stopped crying and was sucking his thumb, oblivious to the conversation that was going on. “Assuming your plan works and you find out that Dimeji is the father, what then, Tobi? Will you stand by a man who already has a child? Tobi, you’re too young to be embroiled in this kind of drama. See what he is already putting you through at this stage. Who knows what else will follow? No man is worth all this trouble, I’m telling you.” “Auntie, Dimeji is worth all this trouble,” said Tobi. “Remember Mayowa, my ex? I can tell you how many times I have compared Dimeji to Mayowa , and the many ways I have made Dimeji pay for Mayowa’s mistakes. But through it all, he has been patient. He understood just how deeply I was wounded from that past relationship and he was a crucial part of the healing process. In fact, Auntie, he still is. He stood by my side and helped me regain my confidence, made me feel wanted, loved. I can’t just discard such a man like that. Auntie, I hope you understand.”Auntie Priscillia responded in the affirmative. “This thing you’re doing is very risky and even after everything you said, it still does not make complete sense to me. But I know that you have to make your own decisions. We, who have been on this earth longer than you have, cannot teach you everything. There are some things you will have to learn by experience. I just hope this turns out to be a good lesson, not a bitter one,” said Auntie Priscillia in a grave tone, as she handed Tomiwa back to Tobi and left the room. “I hope so, too,” Tobi whispered as she took two more cheek swabs. She used an extra cotton swap from the stack in another drawer. So, by the time she was done, she had three separate DNA samples from the child. She kept her promise and gave Tomiwa a whole pack of Cadbury chocolate eclairs, before taking him back to join the other children. After that, she returned back to her room and turned on the fan, waiting for the samples to dry. This took another forty minutes. Then, she put them into the zipper bags, sealed them, dumped the gloves in the dustbin in her room and went to wash her hands. Grabbing her cell phone, she took the bags downstairs to the kitchen. There were several people in the kitchen. Some were relatives helping with the food, and some were guests who had no business being there, but were there nonetheless. Tobi waited for a moment when no one was looking at her, and slipped the samples into a corner of the deep freezer. Then, she grabbed a small cooler, packed it with ice and texted Dimeji to wait outside the gate. By then, it was nearly 4:00 pm.Tobi took the samples out of the freezer, put them in the cooler and went outside to meet Dimeji. On her way, she saw Enitan and a shiver ran down her spine. If this woman knew who she was or what she was carrying in that cooler, she would not be sitting down so calmly. Dimeji was nervously pacing in front of the gate. As soon as he saw Tobi, he heaved a sigh of relief, thanked her profusely and collected the cooler from her. Aba was at least three hours away, but the lab did not close until 9:00pm, being a Saturday. “God speed, Dimeji. Call me when you get there, okay?” Tobi said to him as he got into the car. “I will. Wish me luck.” As Tobi watched the car pull away, she knew that the next time she saw Dimeji, the document he would have in his hand would change their lives forever. She retired indoors and tried to enjoy the rest of the party, but found it difficult. Plus, Auntie Priscillia still looked like she wanted to slap Tobi in spite of her explanations, so she avoided her for the rest of the day. Her mind did not rest that day until Dimeji called her around 8:00 pm to tell her that he had arrived safely in Aba and had successfully delivered the samples to the lab. Now, they just had to wait for one week to know the results.That entire week felt like seven months to Tobi. It seemed to drag on forever not just because of the anticipated news, but also because they had agreed not to see or talk to each other until the test results were ready. Seven days passed, and the time came for Dimeji to give Tobi the much-anticipated news. He walked up to her gate and as soon as she heard the loud knock on the gate that afternoon, she knew who it was. What was the result? Checkout in the last episode – to be continued –

EPISODE 15

“Who is that that wants to break my gate, ehn?” Chief Fasola asked in an irritated voice, before yelling to the gateman to go and see who was at the gate. The gateman was in the backyard and Tobi beat him to the gate. As soon as she stepped outside, she saw Dimeji grinning. He cleared his throat and announced: “Tobi, I am not the father. You … We were right. Tomiwa is not my son.” He was so excited that he picked her up and planted a kiss on her cheek. Tobi was happy too, but was less exuberant than Dimeji. “What’s the matter now? Aren’t you happy for me?” “I am. You’re lucky you know. In some countries, after this test, you would have been stuck paying child support till that child turned 18.” “I know. We are lucky,” said Dimeji good naturedly. “I feel bad for him … Tomiwa, I mean. I only spent a couple of hours with him. He deserves a loving father, and now, who knows who his father is.” “Tobi, his mother knows who the biological father is. You have to let her decide whether Tomiwa will meet his real father or not. It is not our place to decide. We just dodged a major bullet. We should be grateful.” “I guess you’re right,” said Tobi, allowing herself to breathe easy at last. That day marked a turning point in their relationship. It was like the clock had been reset and they had a chance to start all over again. Dimeji was not taking anything for granted. He vowed to be open and honest with Tobi from that day forwards. He kept his word. Three months later, Tobi moved back to Lagos. Although she had eventually landed the job at the hotel as a front desk clerk, she worked there for just one month. A multi-national company had interviewed her in Lagos before moving to Asaba, and they had called her back for another series of interviews. This time around, she was successful and got an entry level position as a financial analyst. She and Dimeji began to nurture what had now evolved into a long-distance relationship, as he was now fully involved with the management of the Asaba branch of his company. He tried to visit her whenever he was in Lagos, but Tobi complained that she did not see him often enough. In the months since she moved back to Lagos, Tobi mused at the oddities of life. She had left Lagos to go to Asaba to find a job, but had found love instead. Now, she was back in Lagos working at the job of her dreams, the one she had hoped and prayed for. But the man she had given her heart to was in Asaba. Why couldn’t she have it all? A new year came along, and before she knew it, it was Valentine’s Day. It struck Tobi that this was her and Dimeji’s first Valentine’s Day together since they started dating. The irony was that they were not together. Not physically. Dimeji was in Asaba, and in fact had been unreachable that entire day. Apart from the typical early morning phone call, she had not heard from him and missed him terribly. Seeing lovers walk hand in hand almost everywhere she turned did not help either. She even saw a bus conductor giving a Val’s day gift of Digestive biscuits to a pineapple seller he was apparently dating.But for Tobi, there were no chocolates, no flowers, not even plantain chips. It was just a very dry, uneventful day. Feeling very sorry for herself, she came back home from work, prepared to just eat and go to bed. There was no one at home when she arrived. Her parents had gone to attend a special church program, and her sister had not returned from the workplace where she was doing her industrial attachment. As she turned on the TV, she caught the news headlines for the evening news. ABA RAPIST CAUGHT IN ASABA The police in Asaba had finally caught the Aba rapist while he was trying to molest a prostitute. The woman had fought back and severely wounded him with the heel of her shoe. That blow to his head, although not fatal, was powerful enough to knock him unconscious. When the police arrived, and took down his details, they pieced together the missing parts of the puzzle, and positively identified him as the Aba rapist. The news announcer said his name, and Tobi was glad it was not the name of anyone she knew. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s the end of that,” she said as she shuffled to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Ring. Ring.The doorbell rang with a decisive urgency, and Tobi wondered who could possibly be at the door. She went to answer and was surprised to see a uniformed man standing there.It was a DHL delivery man with a brown box. Her name was written in bold letters on it. Who on earth would send her a package? One name came to mind, but she still had to confirm. She carried the box back to her room, and opened it. Inside the box was a shiny gold box with red ribbons. As she cut the ribbons excitedly, she wondered what was inside the box. She did not have to wait long. As soon as she lifted the cover of the box, her eyes fell on a sealed red envelope. It was sitting on top of three smaller boxes. She saw the handwriting on the envelope and confirmed her suspicions. It was from Diemji. The three boxes, as Tobi expected, contained assorted chocolates. These boxes were the typical red, heart-shaped boxes that seemed to surface all over Lagos around February every year. There was also a gold necklace in a blue, velvet-lined box. To Tobi, the card was the single most important item in that package. Her name was handwritten in bold letters on the envelope. When she opened the pink card, the only words that were written in it by hand, underneath the printed words that came standard with the card, were these words: Forever in my heart, Love Dimeji. P.S. Read the letter. There was a short letter written in blue ink on yellow lined paper that looked like it had been ripped from a notepad. In Dimeji’s chicken scratch handwriting, Tobi made out the following words: I know that by now you must have received the gifts. I hope you like them. I am sure you thought I had forgotten about today. How could I? A year ago, I came to Asaba for many different reasons, but God blessed me with the best gift ever: you. My Tobi. I’m not one to write long letters, but I am excited about what the future holds in store for us. This is the first and last letter I am writing to you that I will sign, With Love, From Asaba P.S. Come downstairs for your last surprise. Tobi was so happy, she left her parents three bedroom flat and ran downstairs, almost colliding with a neighbor ascending the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, was Dimeji in a gray suit and red silk tie, holding a bunch of roses in one hand. He scooped Tobi in his arms and they shared a passionate kiss, completely ignoring another neighbor who walked past grumbling: “Dis pikin dem, dem don spoil finish!” “So, this was your surprise,” said Tobi, smiling at Dimeji. “Not really. I moved back to Lagos. That’s the surprise.” Tobi was overjoyed. Dimeji told her to save the celebration for later. He wanted her to go and change immediately. He was taking her out for dinner. She ran upstairs while he waited in the car. She got dressed in less than thirty minutes, and left the letter and gifts on her bed. Then, she and Dimeji left together. Less than an hour later, her sister arrived, followed closely by her parents, returning from their church program. She went to the room she shared with Tobi. As she was about to change from her work clothes, she noticed the yellow paper on Tobi’s bed, amidst all the other goodies. She picked up the letter and read it. Then, she rushed out of her room calling for her mother. “Mama! Mama! When is the next bus going to Asaba? I must go and meet my own Prince Charming in Asaba!” – THE END –