I’ve male friends who draw conclusions from comments made by my fcbk female friends on my page and especially posts therein.
‘I am sure you and so so and so are into one another . . . You must be dating XYZ ? . . . Are you f.cking ABC ?’ etc.
These silly thoughts usually make me giggle most times, wondering how stupid and silly people can get coming up with unsubstantiated conclusions.
I have learnt, widely too that social media relationships are formed mostly behind closed doors . . . Without anybody’s inkling.
Inbox etc. No clues. No traces.
That was how I met this really young beautiful chick back then, in my early days on fcbk.
I’d noticed her few and far in between likes on my photos and posts.
Not a word. Not comments . . . Just likes.
A graduate of one of the early private universities and had infact completed her masters programme all by the age of 24 years.
I had checked her out on her page and sent an inbox . . . Not your kind of “Hello BAE” or “Hi Sweets” though.
Experience taught me to be courteous and generous with adulation.
“Beauty and brain you are . . . Your Dad is going to heap a great reward from your dowry” I had jokingly written inbox to her.
Her response was not discouraging either.
‘Why do you say so ?’ she asked.
We went back and forth leading eventually to my earning her phone number.
Calls followed . . . Daily and then mornings and nights.
I’ve this weakness, once I like you and if indeed I do. It doesn’t take me a blink for you to know all about me.
Thereafter, I’m sorry for you. Chances are you’ll catch a bug off me.
She did too.
‘You have not called me today’ she’ll say once the morning call was late.
In reality, I am not your truecaller . . . Follow ups are huge tasks for me. Even more worrisome once I found out she lived in AYOBO (far) . . . “What da f.ck ? Who’s gonna go that far for a pussy . . . cat ?”
Cut me some slacks mehnnn . . . It’s usually about the pussy when those chats commence.
Where I became more cautious, she was carefree throwing caution to the wind . . . Indeed careless, sometimes.
‘Won’t you invite me over to your place ? We should have a weekend to ourselves’ and things like that from her.
And really . . . Why not ? especially now that we had been going on like that for over 3 months.
A couple of times that I called she had startled me.
‘I am with my Dad, say hello to him.’
I froze out when on one of those occasions the Dad had mumbled a ‘HELLO’ into the mouth piece.
“Don’t try that with me again” I warned her.
Finally we agreed a weekend I wasn’t busy.
‘My Dad is dropping me a bus stop away from you, I’ll call you to pick me once we approach’ she said.
She did called and again wanted me to say ‘HI’ to her Dad.
I was mute once again . . . Dead SILENT.
Minutes later, there we both were, she sat excitedly in my car and we drove towards my place.
She was all giggles and grins. I wasn’t exactly.
She was your definition of fragile. Breakable. Pint size. Tiny. Small pocket sized . . . The photos had for a fact lied.
Standing beside her gave me away as a true to type agbaya or at best . . . ‘Uncle’.
She didn’t in all honesty mind my age or even physical size.
“Are you crazy ?” I asked again . . . Curious.
We spent a few hours at mine.
Then hit the island for a movie.
The Palms, Lekki was our destination. Her first time too. I hated the movie, I was bored stiff and infact started a convo wif another young lady to my right.
We had a few bites and drinks thereafter and before you could say shoooo it was already past 7 pm.
I had to sort out a number of things in Ikeja which took a lil more time before we headed towards Ayobo.
Lord have mercy . . . That journey was the decider for me.
It was like I was doing hide and seek with all the Okadas in Lagos. The traffic was mind blowing. We crawled all the way from around the Pen Cinema.
At about 11 pm we finally approached Ayobo.
Horrid bumpy roads . . . ‘You are lucky we aren’t in the rainy seasons’ she said.
The entire place was in total darkness by the time we got to her neighbourhood.
Damn. How was I going to even find my way outta here I thought as she insisted I met her Mum.
‘They’ll be outside waiting for me’ she had said.
Indeed, her whole family; Mum and 4 sibblings, 1 boy and 3 girls with the exception of the Dad were out there waiting . . . Throwing me a guard of honor as I acknowledged them.
‘Good evening sir’ the Mum shocked me.
Truly, she was probably just about 5 years older than me.
‘Thanks for taking care of us’ she concluded as I zoomed off into my car, totally bereft of how I was gonna make it out of this hole.
Not even an Okada in sight or anywhere to guide me out of the many twists and turns we took getting in.
After what must’ve seemed like eternity, I navigated my way out unto the main road, leaving behind the bumps and ditches. I drove not just like it was a race against time, but like if the car behind me caught up then it’ll be the end of the world . . . I ran.
I got home, eventually . . . Exhausted . . . Both physically and mentally.
I slept; peaceful and soundly and woke up with an assurance there’ll be no return leg.
Absof.ckinglutely no replay.
@ O’Shine ORIGINAL
As at 2011 when I visited Ayobo for the first and last time, it was one extremely unknown end and corner of Lagos State . . . As in outskirt . . . I hear it is so hugely developed now.