He was one of the many guys that joined my set towards the tail end of our secondary school days – Must’ve joined either in class 3 or 4, as I’m not so sure again.
The majority of them that joined that late were created their own class – The ‘F’ arm, so I still wonder till this day how he ended up being in my class, the ‘C’ arm. Something tells me it could’ve been by his choice of subjects, cos I remember we both offered Technical Drawing, Applied Electricity and Metal Work together.
Abiodun as he was named, had invited me to his family disco party at the 1004 Flats in Victoria Island, way back in December 1983, a very memorable one which had held a few days before the khaki boys hatched coup, that brought in then Maj Gen Mohammadu Buhari.
That party, rocked greatly – I’d boarded a taxi from Marina to the gates of 1004 in Victoria Island on the fateful evening and, had then taken the elevator to the 5th or so floor . It was a most unforgettable day, I still picture in my head, almost everything that transpired that night, with so much glee.
I vividly remember everyone gyrating to the rhythms of Lionel Ritchie’s newly released blockbuster, ‘All night long’ as well as grooving Jimmy Cliff’s tantalising ‘Reggae Night’ at this particular gig.
Abiodun lived around the 3rd Avenue at FESTAC Town, thereafter while we were still classmates in St. Finbarr’s College, Akoka – We finished secondary school and everyone of us disappeared into thin air.
I particularly checked him up at his FESTAC residence to no avail, on two different occasions after secondary school, before finally giving up on him.
Out of the blues, I had gotten his number – 37 years after from Chris and called him. He didn’t pick up that night, but I called back almost a week later, and introduced myself.
He couldn’t believe his ears, for he remembered everything about me:
‘Gbenga Oshin, onijongbon – Ahhhhhhh, we must hook up again oooo’ I noticed from our jibes, he hadn’t changed much and in the course of our convo, made me understand he’s a grandfather now and resides in far flung Ikorodu area.
That guy was a funny fellow; full of laughs, dark, tall, lanky with a kinda hoarse voice – But most notable for one distinct thingy.
An obviously well endowed guy with a visibly huge phallus that was on a normal day, not well packed. (O pooooo ghan ni o)
I play too much, that is and this is oftentimes reflected in my posts and comments on social media.
I had sometime ago, done something similar on someone’s post – A rather jocular comment, exactly same line that I had used severally too, to depict the same situation over and over in the past.
I realised that this time around, I wasn’t going to be allowed to get away with it. The owner of this post came out almost instantly with an opposing view, snapping at me:
‘IT IS NOT TRUE’
One of her friends followed suit as well with another harsh comment right under mine – Obviously mocking . I ignored, still.
I don’t ‘fight’ on other people’s page oooo. Shebi WE all know the popular adage, that silence is the best answer for a fool.
Poster came and liked the supporter’s comment, anyway. Another person also dropped a comment in agreement with this supporting comment.
I could see a gang-up looming, they were spoiling for a fight. All I needed do was to provide them with that platform or opportunity by fuelling their desire.
In my mind, I truly wanted to call their bluff and attention to their foolishness plus the fact that my comment was even moreso, an ordinary joke.
I had noticed prior that the ‘poster’ showed my comments on her previous posts some attitude anyway, so I just watched and maintained my calmness instead of reacting negatively – I had gotten to that stage also, where I knew I’ll just walk on by on her subsequent posts.
Then, the shock – About 14 hours later that night, I got a notification, on same comment.
Poster ‘laughing out loud’ on my comment.
(😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂)
“O sheshe sooji abi ?”
(Did she just wake up to reality ?)
All thanks to my pin drop silence (we avoided world war 3) – Ignore mode, still !
*
‘Witches and wizards don’t fly anymore – They are on social media’
I had very silently admired her, from afar, that is. Always taken in by her beauty and sweet disposition.
I’d ‘loved’ each and every of her fcbk activities; photos and posts alike. They were calculated attempts at getting her attention. I did those very deliberately.
In her mid thirties, a mother of two kids; the first a boy of 5 and the girl, aged 4 . . . She talked so glowingly about them you could decipher she loved them to the moon and back. Strangely, she never mentioned their Dad in all her dealings on social media or even when we finally got to know ourselves offline.
It was most shocking to even realise this black goddess reached out to me first. Had sent an inbox on one scorching afternoon. She wanted to know if we could talk, dropping her phone number for me to reach out.
“Whaaaaaaaaat ?”
This was most unbelievable, I couldn’t count my luck . . . I mean . . . Who would have thought this could happen ?
Not even Joseph the dreamer could have dreamt up such hallucinations. I found myself calling back, anyway . . . Listening to the most innocent and probably gentlest voice I’d ever heard . . . Wowowow.
That was when I found out her location was even Ibadan. She moved away from the hustle and bustle of Lagos a few months earlier.
Ibadan was too restricted for her own lifestyle, but for the fact she wanted to do her husband’s bidding . . . A city that was yet to provide her with a job of her own and so glaring, few and far between opportunities . . . Compared to the limitless opportunities from where she was coming, this was getting frustrating for her . . . The reason for reaching out to me.
‘Can I be of help in getting her a job ?’
I laughed out loud . . . If I had any influence, any at all . . . I didn’t think it extended as far as Ibadan sef, I told her.
This revelation of mine dampened her spirit, but she urged still I have her in mind, just in case anything cropped up.
After the call, I ran over our discussion and reached out to an old friend of mine in the brown roof city. Feyi, should be able to help, I thought. Though, I’d never asked her for any such favour.
She was also surprised about my disclosure, claiming to be a nobody around there.
We concluded however, that she was going to talk to a school proprietress close to her if there was a teaching job available.
Feyi was to call me few days later:
‘Tell your friend to call Mrs. XYZ on 0809XXXZZZZ for an appointment . . . She should also call me, so I’d know how to follow up’
I followed up with my friend, Nike.
The D-Day for her to call came, and she never did, claiming she was down with a fever. I checked a few days later . . . Same situation.
That was when I realised she wasn’t interested in the teaching job . . . Meanwhile, Feyi was beside herself. She had stuck out her neck for an unserious person.
‘Nah you cause this quantas oooo, O’Shine’ she had said repeatedly.
I let Nike be after that, I never contacted her again, and she also let me alone. Then, the Christmas of that year, I got a message from her, out of the blues:
‘I am at my parent’s with the kids for the holidays . . . Maybe we can see if you so wish ?’
It was a cramped period of the year for me, so we couldn’t squeeze anything further into it.
“Are you still around into the early days of the new year ?” I asked.
The response was in the positive.
And there she stood in front of me on the 4th day into the new year . . . With a glowing and probably the freshest smile ever, like freshly squeezed orange juice. The set of teeth, a huge compliment to her dimpled cheeks. Her small, almost fragile body frame making her a cutie, one that needed utmost protection.
I took a deep look into those tiny but obviously sexy eyeballs of hers . . . They were not just bewitching, but captivating also.
We hugged, tightly so too. She smelt like heaven on earth. Her succulent body tighly held to mine for that brief second . . . Maybe about 1, 2, 3, 11, 17, 24, 29, 30 or so seconds in all.
“Ahhhhhhhh, somebody’s wife oooo”,
I silently thought to myself . . . Emi onirokuro.
It was a most magical moment for me, and maybe herself too. I sank into my couch while she sat across my living room, in the single sitter.
“What should I offer you ?”, a question she repeatedly parried, and eventually declined.
I brought water anyway and we both filled ourselves in . . . Loads of jist . . . Especially about our over 200 shared friends on fcbk.
A handful of them, really.
‘Do you know so so and so ?’
‘I still remember X’s ridiculous comment on your post last year’
‘And MNO, are you guys dating or something ?’
All sorts of funny thoughts brought to bear, to the fore for clarification.
‘I didn’t think you were this gentle . . . You strike as one very loud and arrogant person from your posts’, she rounded up as she got up to go. . . Four hours later.
(I was so laughing at this conclusive disclosure of hers).
That night, I slept like a baby, dreaming about what happened and what could have been ?
The dream was !@#$/^&£_%=÷× . . . Bloody, to say the least.
She had requested of me some months after, in a chat:
‘Write about me – Anything . . . Any memory’.
“Why ?” I had asked.
‘I just want to read your thoughts . . . I’ve been meaning to tell you – I have been reading about everyone else you met on your timeline . . . And, I feel excluded’.
Both Titi and myself had gone out together on this said day – I’d then stopped my car to buy some eggs along the way at this wholesales shop, when she said:
‘Why don’t you buy your eggs beside your house at the security guy’s place, that’s where I buy mine and I think it’s cheaper . . . ‘
Aside from the fact that what I was buying were far bigger and more inexpensive compared to the guy next door who sold in retails – Titi had a househelp she sends on such errands, whereas, I don’t.
It made sense for me to buy in bulk, where comparatively it was convenient for Titi to buy in bits and pieces.
So, what works for her, won’t work for me – Simple as a b c.
I therefore, find it not just weird, but rather funny when individuals try to impose their views or opinions on others.
I also remember when I was ‘observing’ to be a member of a local Rotary Club way back at a Radisson Hotel, and as members call for drinks and small chops, they were always taken aback by my insistence to be served just ‘water’ – this was strange to them just cos the vast majority of them were lagessing on various brands of alcoholic drinks.
At that point in time in my life, I’d made up my mind to stop my sugar intake – the reason behind my water only stance, and indeed, alcohol was not even a choice for me, back then.
‘Why don’t you take this or that ?’
‘Are you sure you’ll blend in with us ?’
‘This man must be very strange oooo – as in, why water ?’
The long and short, the members’ meddling was one huge consideration and reason I never joined the ‘club’ in 2008 – and to think they still wonder why, till date ?
(I had also laughed at a brother recently at a family function, when all he took were glasses after glasses of water, while I gulped down a whole bottle of red wine . Chuckles)
I’m beginning to think it’s ‘harassment’ . . .
*
I had similarly, followed a bosom friend to his relative’s wife’s 40th birthday, sometime back and his Church society members were largely in attendance.
My drink choice after the sumptuous meal was ‘Bailey’s Irish Cream’ – an option to which my friend’s Church society president vehemently objected and opposed to, afterall, it’s their female society members who drink ‘Irish Cream’.
He was of the opinion that a real ‘man’ should never have that as his preference, insisting it’s a drink meant for ladies.
In as much as I also never backed down, ensuring that I satisfied my urge – here was a man whose first choice for a drink most times was a bottle of Guinness Stout, trying to talk me out of taking my cherished ‘Irish Cream’ simply because of his wrong perception of it being a mild feminine drink.
In reality, to think where a bottle of the Nigerian Guinness Stout contains a mere 7.5% alcoholic content, a bottle of ‘Bailey’s Irish Cream’ is known to have a 17% alcoholic composition.
Talk about a wrong understanding and a false alarm.
Truth is:
‘If you want to make everyone happy, don’t be a leader, sell ice cream . . . ‘
000,000,000'Shine 