Chapter 3 Part 2

Mrs Briggs called to say she would be at the shop soon.
‘I should have left earlier’. I muttered to myself checking my watch again. The traffic to Lekki was crazy in the mornings. I skipped back and forth between the Good Morning Nigeria Show on Coolfm with Dan Foster and Rhythm 93.7 with the Wildchild. I never understood why they bothered with the traffic update on Coolfm..it was always the same thing
‘Serious traffic for those of you on Eko Bridge coming towards the Island’
‘A broken down vehicle is obstructing traffic in Oworonshoki’
‘Osbourne, Kingsway, Falomo Bridge, slow but moving’
‘Road works on Ozumbe Mbadiwe’
All this with helicopter sounds in the background. I was always amazed by the speed with which they flew from Oworonshoki to Lekki. Super Helicopter!

My phone started ringing again and with dread I checked the caller ID. It was unknown, so it could only be one of two siblings calling me this early.
‘Hello Sis!’
‘What do you want?’
‘Is that any way to answer the phone? I was just calling to say hi.’
‘You never call just to say hi.’ I laughed, ‘Are you okay?’
‘Well sis, I am a bit cash strapped! I don’t even know how it happened. You know I’ve not asked you for money for a while. I just need 100 pounds till I get my pocket money’
‘My friend, what you need is a J-O-B! At twenty-three you should really not be expecting money from your parents.’
‘I know now, don’t you think it hurts my pride. I am a wounded man’ he said dramatically.
‘You are such a liar’
‘But for real, once I’m done with my masters, then I can focus on work abi you don’t want me to get a distinction?’
‘Please get one, because I can’t be fending for you the rest of my life. I don’t want you to have to come and live with me and my family.’
‘AMENNNN, so please when will I get it?’
‘I’ll send Micky to the bank today and learn to budget for your expenses instead of spending money on girls’ he had a reputation for being a Casanova and breaking all the young girls hearts.
‘Thanks sis. The credit on my card is finished. I’ll call you later so I can tell you about my new girlfriend. She’s one-third Chinese, one-third Brazilian and one-third Nigerian.’
‘How exotic, I can’t wait’, my voice was laced with sarcasm as I clicked off.

'Na Zuwa be that?' Micky asked
'Yes, please remind me to send some money to him later'
'Oh oh, I wan ask for something, you for tell me now' he said.
'Sorry, next time. Or better yet, go to a cyber cafe.' I informed him.
'Ah Zee zeeee, you wicked oh'. I laughed, Micky was a real comedian.

I finally got to Zena Couture at 9.15. I always felt a sense of pride at what I had been able to achieve in a few short years since I moved back home. I smiled as I saw the large pink letters in italics on the front of the store…Zena…The shop wasn’t huge but it was my baby, located on the ground floor of a shopping complex off the Lekki Expressway. I had 3 tailors, 4 seamstresses and one receptionist.

The smile didn’t stay on for long. Mrs. Briggs had been waiting fifteen whole minutes. She was livid.
‘Young girl don’t you know that time is money?’ she asked. She sat there, still very sexy at forty-five. Many women would kill for her looks and she knew it. She had this aura of confidence around her and thought that everything revolved around her. I tried to think of what she might do with her time and could only picture Owambe’s, society functions and exotic holidays.
‘I’m really sorry ma’ the less words the better. I didn’t know what would incense her.
‘I have already tried on two of the outfits, they were okay’, she said grudgingly. Thank God for his mercies I whispered to myself.
‘Which is the last one?’ I asked, a forced smile on my lips.
‘The pink one’ she picked it up and walked towards the fitting room, ‘I’ll be right out, this one already looks like it won’t fit right’
‘Would you like anything to drink?’ I said with all the patience I could muster.
‘No, I’m in a hurry if you hadn’t noticed’.
In a few minutes she was out, looking like a goddess. I was sure she really was the queen of the coast. The dress fit her snugly accentuating her curves and highlighting her long legs. I said a quick prayer to God to let me look half as good as she did when I got older.
‘This is the first time I haven’t had any issues here’ she said smiling into the large mirror on the wall. I guess it makes up for the hours you kept me waiting. Let it not repeat itself.’
‘Sorry again, I’m glad you like them all. Should I pack them up?’
‘Please do’. She wrote out a check as one of the seamstresses packed up the dresses in a pink and silver gift box.
I heaved a sigh of relief as she walked out and made a mental note to reward the stewardess who made the outfits. It was a real feat that none of the dresses needed alterations.

I loved my job as a designer. I dealt with several customers who needed African outfits for weddings, work, parties or just everyday wear. Western designs were influencing the outfits when it came to the younger generation and the mix was very fashionable. Boob tubes in Ankara, a-line dresses in lace, wrap skirts on woodin. It was great that we were appreciating our own prints and maintaining a sense of identity.

Throughout the day I got calls from complete strangers, well not complete, but I couldn’t remember talking to them in years. They would call under the pretext of saying hello or catching up, then would change the subject to weddings then would confirm if Ose was engaged. After a while I called her.
‘Ose, the Nigerian grapevine never ceases to amaze me’
‘I must have had like a million calls today you know.' she said, sounding flustered.
‘People are so nosy. It’s beyond me!’
‘Remember Ramatu?’ she asked. I had no idea who she was.
‘Ramatu, from our first year at university. She called to congratulate me. I don’t even know where she got my number from. Can’t you remember how much she disliked me for telling her to move out of the flat? She was so nice on the phone. Like we have been buddies since forever. I was shocked to say the least.’
‘I remember her, the one who kept looking for a place and ended up staying with us for months and eating our food without helping with the cleaning or groceries or bills.
‘That’s the one’ she said then hissed. ‘Anyway, how’s work going?’
‘It’s alright...Mrs. Bomb didn’t explode today. The clothes fit her perfectly’
‘Thank God for that. I have a meeting so I have to go. I think the girls are meeting up at Roberts Café this Friday. We’ll talk about it later’

Chapter 3 Part 1

This blog will now be updated Mondays and Thursdays with Part 1 and 2 of each chapter. Hope you are enjoying it so far. More feedback welcome :).

I was woken early the next morning by my mobile ringing loudly.
‘Hey Bessie.’ That was Ose’s nickname for best friend.
‘Don’t call me that jo, I have no best friend’ I responded.

I was scarred from an incident I experienced during childhood when two of my favourite playmates came visiting. Teni was very spoilt and she always wanted to have her way. Ada and I would always give in to her demands because she made such a fuss. She got to pick out the best Barbie when we would role play at a tea party and she was always the princess in any play we acted out. We had gotten used to her but I could never forget one very special day. We had just finished a special tea party out of leaves and mud in the backyard. Suddenly, from nowhere, Teni turned to me and asked, ‘Zee who is your best friend’.
I saw the problem at hand but I didn’t want to hurt Ada’s feelings either so I came up with the best answer to make both parties happy.
‘Both of you are’.
There was intense rage in her eyes ‘What do you mean both of us are?’, she said slowly, ‘You can only have one best friend!’.
‘No I think its okay to have more than one Teni…’
‘No its not...its best friend…singular not plural’.
At this point I was tired of walking on eggshells, I was done. This girl was crazy.
‘Then I have none’ I said very loudly.
Before I knew it she hit the floor, wailing, screaming like I had killed her.
‘You can only have ONE, ONE, ONE’. I looked helplessly at Ada for help, she was just as dazed. The next thing our parents came running out to the back.
‘Teni darling, who did this to you’ her mom asked directing accusing looks my way’.
‘She hates me mummy, she said I’m not her friend’.
My mum was trying to calm her down too but Teni’s mum was already taking her in and left soon after.
As soon as they left ‘My mum and Ada’s said in unison. Good riddance to bad rubbish’.
Teni never came over again and she didn’t talk to me in school. I vowed never to have a best friend if it would cause so much trouble. What was wrong with just having friends?
‘Are you there? Did you hear what I said?’
‘Oh sorry’
‘A-D-D! I said are you okay?’
‘Yes I am, of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Because I know you Bessie, you were off last night’
‘I’m sorry’ I said remorsefully ‘I didn’t mean to be that way, I am truly excited about this!’
‘Glad to hear it, you know I’ll always be here for you no matter what. It won’t happen with you like your mom says’ she continued ‘You won’t get so angry and bitter that you can’t ever love anyone and no one wants to be friends with you because you become such a sadist, so you end up living alone in a flat far far far away’ we said the end together and burst out laughing.
‘Last last, you’ll live on my street and we can have tea parties but that won’t happen because you will meet someone too then we can buy a house in the same estate and live happily ever after.’
I listened to her laugh, it was like a nightingale singing. If I laughed more like that would I be engaged?

Ose was more attractive than beautiful. Her presence lit up any room she walked into, she was the kind that got the party going. Hurricane was what I called her. I met her at university and immediately, we got on like Oprah and Gayle. She was outgoing, boisterous, fun and the perfect planner while I, on the other hand, was shy, spontaneous, nonchalant and disorganized. We made a perfect pair and rubbed off each other. Together we were a force to reckon with. Now she was making a life changing decision and I knew it could affect our relationship.

‘What if you start talking about diapers and stuff and I can’t relate?’
‘You’ll relate ‘cos you will be changing your God daughters diapers, trust me’
‘Please stop fretting jo, I’d even understand if it wasn’t the two mad jesters talking! Bessie, give me more credit than that now. The only way this friendship is over is if you kill me’
‘Ok ok’ I responded laughing. I looked at the time 7.00am.
‘Shoot I have to get ready for work. Mrs. Briggs has a fitting this morning!’
‘Wow how can you deal with Mrs. Bomb this early in the morning?’
‘God gives me the patience I need because he’s the only one stopping me from committing murder’.

My mum rushed into the room, ‘Why aren’t you dressed yet? Mrs. Briggs is already on her way. You better get there before her’.
‘That woman gives me a headache! Why is she so difficult?’
‘She pays well and brings a lot of customers so you really can’t complain.’
‘I can oh, she’s like the devil incarnate. Always making impossible demands’
‘My dear, the customer is always right’
‘Not when I’m the customer’ I said annoyed.
‘Not at the banks, at the mall, at the cinema or even restaurants. Every one frowns here, they are always thinking ‘na ma papa own?’ It’s so annoying, there is no culture of customer service. The other day a manager at some bar told our friend to leave if he couldn’t find a seat!’
‘It’s because we are not really spoilt for choice, that’s why they behave the way we do, besides Rome wasn’t built in a day, things are changing.’
‘Not fast enough’ I said as she walked out of the room.

As I was getting dressed, I received a text from Ose

Bessie you are the Chief Bridesmaid just in case you didn’t know already. Like DUH!

‘Thanks for asking’ I laughed.

Finally, I put on my make up then assessed myself in the mirror. I was rocking my favorite patchwork skirt by Peridot and Ruby with an orange low-cut tee. It was good to support other young designers. ‘Fierce, Sexy’ I said to my reflection then I tried to laugh like Ose and ended up in a heap on floor, laughing hard till tears came to my eyes. I stood up abruptly when I heard my mother scream ‘Nosazena, get going already!!!’

Chapter 2 Continued

My parents were in the living room when I got in.
‘Good evening, daddy’, ‘Good evening mummy’ I said, genuflecting a little.
My dad grunted a reply while reading the Guardian newspaper, the Thisday newspaper was next to him and he passed it to me as part of a daily ritual. I sat with them for a while alternating between reading the news and watching desperate housewives. As Gaby was about to burst into her house after hearing her husband and the maid moaning on the baby monitor in Lynette’s house, my father picked up the remote control and changed the channel.
‘Sorry ladies, important match today, Aston Villa…….’
‘It’s nearly over now’ my mum said, ‘Go back jo, let me finish before you change it’.
‘Well that’s the reason we got dual cable, if you hurry you can catch the end upstairs. This match is really big!’
‘Never ending football…..grown men running around in shorts…so rude’, my mum was mumbling under her breath. We packed up our things in a huff and moved up to the designated children’s parlour to continue the show.
‘So how is Ose?’ mum asked
‘She's fine; Nosa proposed to her, she’s very excited’
‘Heyyyyyyyy, thank God ohhhhhhhhh. Isn’t that nice?’
‘Yes very nice mum’ I said abruptly, trying to end the conversation.
‘See, she met Nosa at university!’ she said sitting up suddenly.
‘Are you trying to tell me you could not even find one nice guy at university because that is where most girls meet the men they marry’
‘I did not meet any guys at university mum’ I said in a bored tone. I had told her this many times.
‘But you are so good looking and such a nice girl. Is it that they are not approaching you?’ I didn’t respond, I was concentrating on the show on TV, Flavor Flav was suddenly so cute, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
‘No, that’s not it, you must be rejecting them’ she continued ‘Your aunty Liz rejected all the men that wanted to marry her. There was one who was really sweet and liked her so much and she said his nose was too big’.
‘Mum you have told me this story so many times’ I moaned. She pretended she did not hear me
‘To tell you the truth, it was gigantic but he loved her and that should have counted for a lot but all she kept on saying was, DID YOU SEE HIS NOSE!’ She said it with her eyes wide open.
‘But now he is married, has four kids, works for Shell and has several properties.’
‘And guess what, only one of his kids has a big nose, poor thing but one out of four is a blessing’. ‘Where is she now?’, ‘She is still single! I’m telling you, once you pass the ages of about twenty-five to twenty-eight, you start getting fewer offers and then you are left on the shelf.
I was bored, even the scary girls on Flavor Flav were not penetrating the force field that was my mother.
‘Mummy things have changed. More and more women are concentrating on their careers and marrying later, the so called shelf life has moved up, twenty-three is too young. It’s not like those days when a woman needed a man to take care of her. I don’t have to rush into marriage since I can take care of myself. I will marry for love only and nothing else.'
‘No one is saying you should rush, but when do you want to meet your husband not to talk of marrying him? Time is ticking.’
‘Can we end this conversation please, I’m tired besides Flav is about to hand out clocks to his chicks’ I said in a very irritated tone.
‘Okay sorry, watch your program.’
But I wasn’t really watching. My mother didn’t know how much pressure she put on me with all her comments, stories, pep talks, inquisitions, trials, and criticisms, just everything. I already had enough to deal with without her piling hers on me.

I thought about Timi and how he was doing. He had ripped my heart out, stabbed it with a pitch fork then proceeded to jump all over it like rumpelstiltskin did while tearing out his hair and finally did that nasty drag of phlegm behind his throat thing and spat on it with disgust. I had made up my mind that all men were dogs and swore them all off. To make things worse I heard terrible stories all the time. First the one about my cousin getting dumped by the guy who said she wasn’t his soul mate then Amara’s boyfriend took all her savings and eloped with his housegirl, Gina’s boyfriend beat her black and blue for disrespecting him and Bukky’s husband who never came home and could always be found at La Casa nightclub. Why would I have to put myself through such torture? I stuck to my guns, men sucked.

These feelings of disgust towards all men stayed for a while but with time had abated. I still was overly cautious when it came to men but if I met a dashing handsome young man who was intelligent, sensitive, kind and funny, then maybe I would consider going on one date with him. I only ever met mula’s. It was a codename created by me and Ose. We would rate guys on a mula scale of 1 to 10. 1 being mildly mulalicious and 10 being extremely mulalicious and a great big No No. The measurement scale was based on several things including dress sense, intelligence, habits, confidence, job or just how moody we felt on that particular day. The last guy I had a date with was mulaliciously 7….Disastrous.

My mum changed the channel to Africa Magic, a channel dedicated to African movies designed for laughter. A movie called Beware of 419 was on and a lady was talking to a guy dressed in a matching tracksuit as well as a baseball cap and a huge panda chain around his neck which said FITY CENT. She was trying to convey anger by squinting so much that I thought there might have been a smell in the room or maybe she needed glasses.
‘Sharon it is imperative that you proceed with caution in this matter or forever hold your piss.’ said tracksuit man.
‘Kunle I care not for your threat and bullies, you ken go to hell today or tomorrow!’.
Sometimes the acting was so comical and the plot so out of this world that at the end you felt strangely cheated for all the time that was wasted watching the movie but I loved them anyway. I was tired but wanted to see how the movie would end so we stayed up watching part one and then part two. Finally the movie came to an abrupt end and we were pissed off as we dragged ourselves to bed, dreading the thought of having to wake up in only a few hours.

Discussion...

Are any of you under pressure by your family to get married? How old do you think is a suitable age to be married and what age is too old?

Chapter 2

It was getting late so I called Micky as I packed up my stuff to go home. I didn’t have much; my favourite red bag containing only a wallet a book, a make-up purse and an ipod which I never managed to listened to, and my shawl. I hugged everyone goodbye and left the building in search of Micky who was parked somewhere on the side of the street.

After fifteen minutes of trying to find him in the dark I rang him again
‘Micky, where are you please?’
‘I am here now’ he said. I looked around expecting to see him but I couldn’t.
‘Where for crying out loud?’ I asked in a bit of an agitated tone.
‘Look at me on this side, see me now.’ I looked around frantically.
‘CHUKWUEMEKA, you are on the phone so please say if you are somewhere on my right or on my left.’
‘I am near the tree’ he said, convinced that I knew what he was talking about. Exasperated, I scanned the area with its million trees.
‘Okay stand there make I come meet you,’ he finally volunteered.
‘Yes, I think that would be best,’ I said and a few minutes later he crept up on me from the left. I jumped with a start and almost fell into the gutter and he burst into his usual annoying laughter.
‘its not funny Micky, besides, do you know how many trees there are? You no fit describe oh’
‘I think say you see me now, where your eye glass?’

I ignored his question as we walked towards the car. I was in a pensive mood as I sat on the passenger’s side at the right and watched as we drove through Lekki. It was perfect time to reflect on the event which had just unfolded. Ose was engaged, I thought to myself, and then all of a sudden I felt the shame wash over me for not being as happy as I should have been for her.

Before Ose got into this relationship, she couldn’t have cared less about guys and marriage. Flashbacks of our conversations, when I would tell her I was ready to settle down, came to mind. She would look at me incredulously and ask,
‘What do you want to tie yourself down so early for?’
‘It’s a blessing to be married Ose, God approves of marriage. Besides I want to have my kids early so I can have the energy to cope with them and have fun. I want to be a funky mama.’
‘This girl, you are something else, lets enjoy being single. Marriage will come in good time.’

We both have had a few relationships since then, but my last one ended in disastrous circumstances. At that time I was seriously heartbroken and I wasn’t sure I had anything more to give when it came to love.

The car jolted to a sudden stop and I shot a glance at Micky aka Chukwuemeka, the professional driver.
‘Wetin now? Na him stop too quick’ he said as he made a rude sign at the driver ahead of us while tooting his horn as loudly as he could with the other hand.
‘Move my friend!’ he shouted.

Driving in Lagos is a nightmare. You had to have a strong heart to be able to cope with stress of it all. I wondered why there were no cases of people found slumped over the steering wheel due to a sudden heart attack or intense bursts of rage.

I studied the landscape as we drove along the Lekki Expressway towards Victoria Island as a way of distracting myself from thoughts of failed relationships. The pain was sometimes there, but never as intense as it initially was, just a numb throbbing.

There was hardly any traffic as we passed all the red lights on the way home. Only a mugu would stop for the traffic lights when it was so dark. We came up to a makeshift police checkpoint at Ozumba Mbadiwe and made sure they were actually police men before slowing down. They signaled for Micky to wind his car window down.
‘Bros how you dey?’
‘We are fine, this is a child of the Commissioner of Police’ he said in a rehearsed official tone.
‘Ahhh aunty we hail you oh, safe journey home’
‘Thank you, goodnight’ I said as Micky rolled the window back up.
‘Micky you are such a liar’ I said, laughing.
‘For village, your uncle too na your papa’ he responded defensively
‘Yes but we are in Lagos, besides I wonder how they don’t figure out that you are a liar.’
‘They no like wahala now’ he responded, grinning.

Listening to Dbanj's latest song on the radio, we crossed Falomo bridge and drove through Kingsway road. I checked the time as we approached Osbourne Estate checked again as we pulled into the driveway… 9.40pm, not late enough for my father to give me the ‘Lagos is not safe, these are dangerous times’ speech. Thank God for that because I was tired.