Grace,
You watched Fatima desert Bolaji but are unsure of what transpired. Her countenance was grave - like she had just bagged a death sentence. Bolaji remained in his position, dazed, transfixed - like a figurine. You couldn’t muffle the snicker that crept onto your mouth - he looked hilarious with a blank, unbespectacled face. You were worried - what if you were wrong? As much as you could see from where you stood, the news disassembled his composure like a house of Lego bricks thrown onto a concrete wall.
You were promising yourself to get them back together when you saw Bolaji’s hard face crack into a smile. In microseconds, you were watching him on the screen of your iPhone, camera in action, recording - he seemed happy. Mayhap he was pretending all the while - and you were right all along. You thanked God you were smart enough to put him on record when he leapt into the air with his arms crisscrossed - he did Cristiano Ronaldo’s trademark ‘SIU’ celebration. Fatima was so engrossed in her dejected return that she was oblivious of the happenings around her. A film of tears made her eyes dreamy, and you felt sorry for her - ‘such is the lot of us women in this clime and time,’ you thought.
Just the week before, you were the girlfriend of Bolaji’s friend, Emeka, who you had thought was your first and last love, but reality dawned on you. He was a women’s man. And you were just another one of his naive playthings, as his reaction implied.
*
You had gone to his apartment at Kokalwa, a 2-bedroom flat he shared with Bolaji, and met him with his other friends. They were fun people, but the atmosphere was quite gloomy - Emeka was broke - as he told them, which meant there was no money to entertain them as he usually did. Feeling concerned, you went into the kitchen and prepared some Jollof pasta for the five of you. His friends devoured the spicy and savoury dish with avarice - making exasperating splish-splosh sounds as they chomped like goats. Your irritation did not let you make any sense of the encomia with which they showered you.
You preferred the camaraderie of the wolf pack to Bolaji’s; you felt he did not like you - he always seemed uncomfortable with your visits to their apartment. He never contributed voluntarily to any conversations you started or gave satisfactory replies whenever you asked for his opinions, yet Fatima insisted he had his way with words. You thought he was reticent until the day a friend went with you to see Emeka, who was ill at the time. There and then, you realised that he did not like you - he guffawed at her silly jokes, gave her attention while she spoke, engaged her in conversations and contributed to topics she raised.
But at the end of the day, you wished you had met Bolaji instead.
to be continued…
Do you think Bolaji is happy with the breakup?
Why do you think Grace regretted meeting Bolaji’s absence?
What else do you think?
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P.S: This work is purely fictional. Any semblance to actual persons (living or late), places, or events are merely figments of the writer’s attempt at keeping in touch with reality.
Zàijiàn!
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