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Author: Peotic Bane
Love is a very curious thing. The way it works cannot be understood as it is no respecter of age, race, status or societal norms. One can find it anywhere, in anything, in anyone, especially when one least expects it.
Eighteen year old Kunle Adejare sat on the oversized sofa in his father’s gigantic office, his face to the TV and his back to his father who was having a discussion with his secretary. The TV screen was showing a live news on AlJazeera. The width of the office tends to suffocate Kunle who always wondered the need for spaces when they’re barely used. His father, Mr Adejare owns a real estate company in Lekki and their family has several estates across Lagos Island. One doesn’t need to be told that they’re a wealthy family. The sound from the TV and the voices of both Kunle’s father drowned in the background as Kunle continued to draw in his note pad.
Lately, he had been drawing this very beautiful lady who has a dimpled face, full lips, sharp nose, beautiful smile and a chubby build. He had been so obsessed with drawing this particular lady to the point that he’s been frustrated. Every road led to her, every action of his pen on paper but to make things much worse, Kunle has never met anyone like her in real life, he had never seen that beautiful face on a person. The closest he has ever been to visualizing her was in his head, it was as if that face was his latest object of fantasy.
“Son.” The deep voice of Mr Adejare brought Kunle back to reality. When he turned to look at his father, he realized the secretary was no longer there and it was just the two of them. Kunle was a splitting image of the man, both were 6ft tall, dark skinned, handsome and athletic except Mr Adejare was already sporting a big belly as he has started to lose his youthfulness. The man was in his late forties and his hair was gradually greying. But that has nothing on his good looks, he could still bag any woman he wanted.
“Yes, dad.” He rose to his feet and walked to his father’s table which was ladened with files and magazines. He pulled himself a chair from across him, wondering if he could ever wrap his head around his father’s line of work.
“I had a discussion earlier with your mother. We want to know where you’d like to study. Here in Nigeria or abroad?” The question wasn’t exactly what Kunle expected, it should have been what he’d like to study and not where he’d like to study because deep down, all Kunle wanted was to draw.
“I’d like to study art, sir.” Kunle decided to push this button for once. He kept his gaze on the table because he knew what would come next.
“How many times have I told you that you’d carry on my name and legacy? You’re my only son, my only child at that. It’s your duty to fill my shoes. I thought we agreed that we’d give you two years after high school to explore your interest in art and then after you’d do whatever your mother and I wished for?” That was infact the truth, when Kunle graduated high school two years before, he wanted desperately to build on his drawing skills but his parents told him that was impossible and they made a deal to give him two years to develop a skill they don’t expect him to ever use.
“But dad, I have no interest in real estate. I want to draw. I want to paint. I want to express myself and educated people through my art.”
“Listen to me, art is not a career. Most people who do it are lunatics. My own son won’t be considered a lunatic or you also want to end up like that Van Gogh guy?”
“But his works are still very much respected today and….” A loud bang on the table shut Kunle up. Mr Adejare had landed his fist on the table in anger.
“We’re no longer going to debate on this. You’re either going to study something that’ll give you a ground in real estate or I’m going to disown you.” The words landed squarely on Kunle’s chiseled face. His father has never spoken so angrily before and deep in his heart Kunle felt that he has to start warming up to the idea of filling his father’s shoes, maybe it is the right thing for every child to do.
“We’ll be having a new client for dinner tonight, make sure you’re well dressed and take that look of disapproval off your face, son. You know all I do, I do for you.” Kunle listened as his father grabbed his coat at slipped into it. Kunle knew this new client has to be a big fish for his father to invite them home to dinner. It was his father’s way to get familiar with his clients and juice them good. His father would always say “If you make your clients feel at home, they will come back to your house with their friend.”
He followed Mr Adejare to the parking garage, replaying the scene of their previous conversation in his head.
“I have to meet up with several clients before dinner, Jude will drive you home.” Mr Adejare patted his son’s back as he stepped into his car. Kunle followed Jude, one of the family’s driver to another car for the drive home.
*****************************************************
The drive home was extremely quiet. Kunle who’d usually initiate conversations with the drivers was just so out of it. From where he sat in the passenger’s seat, he stared out of the car window to look at the busy road. Everyone was going about their daily businesses, different people, different lives. “Does everyone of these people have others breathing down their necks? Do they have shoes to fill? Or was it just him?” Kunle thought to himself.
“Oga Kunle, hope no problem?” Jude asked from the driver’s seat.
“No, sir. Everything is fine.”
“You sure? You no talk anything since we commot Oga office.”
“Yes, sir.” Kunle managed a smile. “I’m just tired.”
“Oh, okay.” The rest of the trip home continued in deafening silence. When they got to the Adejare’s private estate in Ikoyi, the gateman, Sanusi bared his kolanut stained teeth as he waved to greet Kunle. Kunle waved back and smiled too. If anything, his parents taught him to be respectful and kind to everyone irrespective of their status.
Mrs Adejare and Mama were watching a TV show when Kunle arrived the very spacious living room.
“Hi darling.” Mrs Adejare called sweetly at Kunle. She was dressed in a short black gown that hugged her petite frame like a second skin, her light skin glowed under the golden chandelier in the center of the room. Despite being in her mid forties, she was the most beautiful woman Kunle has ever seen.
“Lakunle dear, how are you?” Mama chipped in. The older woman in mid sixties smiled. Unlike his mother, Mama was dark skinned too and on the bigger side.
Mama was not exactly a member of the Adejares. Infact, she was his own mother’s nanny. She had a very short and terribly sad marriage. Her husband died shortly after they wedded and left her with no child to remember him by. The heartbreak was too much for Mama, when she was employed by Mrs Adejare’s parents, she discovered her new fond love for their little girl, Funke. So she devoted all her time to her. She continued to stay with the family even after Funke got married, a year later, both of Funke’s parents died in a car crash and all she had was Mama, that’s how Mama became the Grandma Kunle never had.
“I’m good, how are my beautiful girls doing?” Kunle was finally happy since the incident from earlier. He proceeded to hug both his mother and Mama.
“Fine, did your father tell you about dinner?” His mother said.
“He did, I better go get ready.”
“It’s 5pm dear, dinner is not until 7pm.” Said Mama. Kunle needed time to clear his head, he just had to come up with the perfect excuse.”
“Oh yes, I just need to pick a nice outfit and shave this.” He pointed at the stubble on his chin.
“It looks good on you.” His mother teased but Kunle shook his head in feigned annoyance. “I better go.” He was sprinting to the stairs before they could convince him otherwise.
He unlocked the door to his room but stood in the doorway to examine his haven. A large painting he had recently made of the woman he so much fantasizes about was hanging above his table and all over the walls were sheets he had taped that contained drawings of her. He finally stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He laid in his bed, still looking around the room. His father was probably right, it must be lunacy to obsess over someone you’ve never seen, so much that you see them in everything.
“I think it’s time I stopped this crazy dream of painting and become a real man.” He said to himself. Resigned, he got up and took every drawing off his wall, folded and hid them all away in his drawer but he couldn’t bring himself to hide the beautiful painting. That, he would keep and show to the world someday.
Kunle undressed and got into his bathroom to shower, he was still very unhappy but there was nothing he could do about it. When he got out if the shower and dried, he rummaged through his closet until he finally decided to settle for a purple agbada and a pair of matching trousers, he was certain his father would be impressed. He was half hoping the client would bring along their own children because he hated usually being the only young one at the table.
By the time he got dressed, it was already 6:50pm. Kunle sprayed a nice amount of perfume and exited his room.
He could hear his father’s hearty laugh from the top of the stairs, his father was usually loud whenever he was trying to make an impression. But his mother was always so soft and sweet. His parents were from different worlds, his father unlike his mother came from penury, he was very fortunate that a wealthy lady fell in love with him and he was also wise to put the wealth to good use. Thanks to his mother, his father is who he is today.
Kunle entered the living room in style but stopped halfway when he saw his family walking towards the dinning area.
“Good evening, dad.” He greeted with a bow.
“Kunle my son, how are you? Meet Mrs Eze.” Mr Adejare said as he stepped out of the way to show his new client to his son but all Kunle did was froze, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened.
There she stood, the woman of his daydreams. She looked slightly older than he had imagined, maybe in her mid twenties. She was dressed in a flowing Ankara gown that totally hid her frame but her arms were of course thick. Her hair was beautifully woven, her face was exactly as he had drawn and painted with a dimpled smile and very nice teeth.
“Stop gawking, Kunle.” He heard his mother say. He managed to shut his opened mouth and tore his gaze to the marble floor as he spoke.
“Good evening, ma.” He greeted her. How was she even married at such a young age? He wondered.
“Good evening, dear.” Her voice flowed like a gentle river. It was calm and collected, like she had no worries in life, like life has always favoured her.
“Now, let’s move to the table.” His father announced and led them to the dinning room. Kunle struggled to keep his eyes off this strange woman that seemed to have walked out of one of his paintings. He took his place at the table beside Mama and it was no surprise to see the woman sit across him.
The cooks, Teni and Bimbo came in with pots of fried rice and grilled chicken as opposed to the Amala and ẹfọ riro that was originally on the menu. Kunle wondered why his father always tries to impress their guests in western ways when on a normal day, he’d kick against it. The transactional hypocrisy he’d built over the years tends to disgust Kunle.
Even when the food was served, Kunle struggled to eat. He was trying to resist the urge to look up at the woman, he started admiring the artistry of the ceramics company that designed the China that was used to serve dinner that evening. He compared every flower on his own plate to one another and silently praised the perfection and accuracy. But, he soon found himself giving in to the urge and raising his face to look at her. She was beautiful, she smiled as she spoke which made her dimples deepen so. For someone Kunle presumes to be rich, she was simply dressed and had no jewelry on besides her wedding band.
One look at his mother, Kunle dropped his face to his meal. She had on a questionable look that also spelled warning. He picked up his fork and fiddled with it, he ran it into his plate and played around with the peas and sweet corns in the food, he managed to force some spoons of rice into his mouth every now and then. At one point, he turned to his side to look at Mama, he was met with that look of warning from her too. He definitely had to stop.
“So, what does Kunle do?” The calm voice rose above the others that Kunle had drowned in the background. He sat up straight and looked at her, since she addressed him, he had the right to look at her.
“Me? I just currently finished my training in visual art. I developed my skills in painting, hyper realism to be presise.”
“That is cool, I really love that. Paintings interest me but I don’t have anyone to share my interest with. Are you further expanding your horizon?”
“Yes, he’s going to the university to study in order to take up the family business.” His father spoke before Kunle could.
“But why?” Mrs Eze asked with a puzzled look. “His heart seem to be elsewhere, why not let him go with it?”
“Better not indulge Kunle. He knows better than to agree with you on that but he would, if you keep encouraging him.” His father said again. Mrs Eze got the message because she gave him a knowing look then went back to her food. The rest of the dinner was filled with other talks except for what Kunle would love to do. When Mrs Eze first spoke, he thought he’d met his Messiah but now, he’d given up on the thought. Maybe there was nothing like salvation for him.
More than anger, Kunle felt pain and defeat. Not only were his views disregarded, he also felt ridiculed. His father spoke of him as if he were a child that pushes the limit. All his life, Kunle listened and took orders. Unlike his friends whose parents treated like eggs, Kunle’s father trained him like he was being prepped for war. The love he got the most was from Mama but it was obvious that Mama was more on his mother’s side than Kunle’s. His mother never took anything serious, she just likes to spend like the spoiled, rich girl she is. She only agrees to whatever her husband says like a robot.
Truth is, Kunle’s mother has not a care in the world. She was almost self absorbed and nonchalant. If it hadn’t been for mama, she even wanted to hire a nanny for Kunle. It wasn’t as if Kunle hated his parents, he just needed more parental love and care. Someone who listened, someone who asks his views, someone who saw him for who Kunle really is.
“Why did you come alone tonight? We thought you’d bring your family.” Kunle’s mother asked the pretty woman.
“Oh, my husband has been very busy. Our son got married recently and he lives in England with his wife. You see, I he our son used to be his father’s P.A but he dropped everything without looking back. I don’t blame the poor boy, he had always wanted a life of his own. Not following rules or norms, all he wanted was to take flight without restrictions. But his leaving took a toll on his father, despite employing someone new, he still has to teach them the ropes.” The words flowed out of her small mouth like fine wine out of a bottle.
“Our son got married?” Kunle thought to himself. “How old are you?” Kunle wish he could ask. Deep down, he wanted to believe she’s a stepmom but things were beginning to topple and Kunle felt this heaviness in his heart. Why bother though? It’s not like he had been in love with this fantasy woman. Whatever her life in real life was, that should have no effect on him.
After dinner, they moved back to the living room. The discussion was solely about business which was his father’s way. Kunle needed to get out of there, it was not like his presence mattered anyway.
“I’d like to go to bed.” Kunle said when he saw his father stop to drink from the glass of wine he was holding.
“Sure, dear. Go on.” His mother said sweetly.
“Goodnight Mama.”
“Goodnight Lakunle.”
“Goodnight ma’am.” Kunle greeted Mrs Eze.
“Sleep well, Kunle. I hope to see more of you.” Kunle wondered what that meant, did she mean to see him again or was it to see him pursue his dream?
“See you in the morning, son.”
“Yes, sir.” Regardless of every turmoil and uncertainty Kunle was feeling, he smiled the rest of the way to his room. He doesn’t understand it, why was his heart beating so loudly and why was he so happy? Was it because of what she said to him?
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Mrs Adejare sat in front of her vanity table as she carried on with her evening skin care session. She was dressed in a peach, silk night gown, her head wrapped in a silk scarf. Mr Adejare was going through some documents in bed, he was also dressed for bed.
“Tunji, didn’t you see your son earlier?” Mrs Adejare asked.
“You mean Kunle, what did he do?”
“Didn’t you see how he was staring at Mrs Eze as if he knew her from somewhere?”
“And you think that is impossible?”
“Yes.”
“Babe.” Mr Adejare packed and put away the documents in his hands. He sat up and watched as his wife walked to the bed to join him. “You heard her say that paintings interest her. They probably met in an art gallery or something.”
“Alright but did that give him the right to look at her that shamelessly?” She asked as she joined him in the bed, she rested her head on his broad shoulder and snuggled into him. Mr Adejare held her close and gently stroked her back.
“What do you mean?”
Her face instantly flew up to meet his. “You mean you didn’t see him staring at her the whole time?” Mr Adejare looked surprised and confused which spoke of his obvious ignorance.
“I didn’t notice.”
“You’re always this way. Tunji, please try to pay more attention to your environment.”
“Yes mommy,” He teased her with a chuckle and bent to kiss her head. They soon turned the lights off and went to bed. Neither further discussing their son’s attitude or pondering on the reasons for it.
Kunle couldn’t sleep, he had taken out the drawings again. They looked exactly like her, in every way. Had he seen her once before? He thought. Because he knew it takes familiarity to be so accurate. He looked at the the painting he hung above his table, everything perfectly depicted her.
He turned in his bed and hoped in his heart that he too would see more of her.
The next day was Saturday, Kunle slept in as usual. When he came down for breakfast, he was not surprised to see Mama eating alone. He sat next to her and served himself a plate of fried yams and stew.
“Lakunle, why did you stare so much at that woman from last night?” Kunle knew she would ask.
“I don’t know. She looked familiar.”
“Regardless, you should learn to not stare too much. What if you had scared her away?”
“What is she? A little birdie?” Mama laughed at Kunle’s question. He always had his ways of making her laugh not to mention that he always ran his mouth carelessly around her. It was as if he trusted her, more than he trusted his own parents.
“Just be careful.”
“Alright Mama.” They were still eating when Mr Adejare joined them.
“Good morning, my lovely family. Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning, Tunji.” Mama answered.
“Good morning, dad.” Kunle greeted with a bow. “Where is mom?”
“Your mother is still sleeping. Kunle, Mrs Eze called me earlier. She would like to see some of our magazines and go over them so she can choose where she deems fit. I would send someone else but it’s the weekend and I don’t want to bother any of my employees. It’s infact time for you to step up to your role. So, you’ll take them to her house in V.I.”
Kunle felt his heart threaten to explode. He didn’t expect to see her again so soon but he’d take this chance without thinking.
“Yes, sir.” His father didn’t even look at him when he nodded. He was already stuffing the fried yams into his mouth. Kunle was too excited to continue his meal. He started downing cups of water.
“You barely ate anything. Do you plan on drowning.” Mama whispered with a wicked smile.
“C’mon, Mama. I ate a nice portion.”
“Obviously.” The old woman said, pointing at his scarcely touched plate.
Later when his father handed him the magazines, Kunle steadied his shaky hands to receive them. He was not only excited. He was nervous too. The drive in Kunle’s eyes was short as he had no time to collect himself before they arrived the house. It was a nice mansion that was well crafted. The architect that designed the place must have made millions out of Mr Eze, there were statues and flowers in every angle. It was almost like Kunle’s house but back home, there were no statuses and the flowers had been replaced with artificials since the last gardener left.
Kunle had told the driver to leave and not bother coming to pick him up, he had planned to go to a bookstore after. He didn’t even expect the visit to take time. He took a big, deep breath when he reached the door. He rang the door bell and waited.
Soon, the door knob twisted and the door flew open before his face.
“Hi, Kunle.”
“Good day, ma’am.” Kunle immediately looked at his feet.
“Come in.” Mrs Eze said and opened the door wider. Kunle followed with his head bowed like a lamb that was being led to the slaughter.
The living room was painted white, exactly like his parents’ but unlike their own home, picture frames were hung all over the walls. There was one picture that looked very old, it was of Mrs Eze in her wedding dress standing next to a man who was dressed in a black suit, Kunle guessed that was Mr Eze. The man looked old, like he was in his mid forties and Mrs Eze looked like a teenager, she was slender but her face was the same.
The man was in other pictures with her and there was a little boy too, a newer frame was of a young man and a white woman. It was of Mrs Eze’s son and his wife. There was classical music playing from the speaker, the TV was turned off and there were books next to a cup of tea on the center table. Kunle looked at the woman, she was dressed in jean shorts and a loose blouse. She had no makeup on and her long hair was bound in a ponytail. She looked very beautiful, Kunle feared he was looking at her too much and reverted his gaze back to his feet.
“Sit.” She pointed at the two-seater and Kunle obeyed without looking up. “I expected someone else to be here.”
“Yes, Dad thought it was better if I came.”
“I guess because he expects you to take over his business someday.” Her calm voice seemed to intoxicate Kunle, he could feel his heart pounding against his chest, he felt nervous.
“I think so.”
“You can leave the magazines on the table. Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Too bad, you’ll have to eat again though.” She rose from the table before Kunle could protest. He hadn’t seen this coming, if he stayed there for too long, his day wouldn’t go as he planned.
“You can come join me so you don’t get bored.” She called him from inside the kitchen. Kunle obediently went, he was powerless against adults anyway, besides he has to put on his best behavior or she might terminate business with his dad.
Kunle met her laying the ingredients on the table, it looked like she was going to make jollof rice.
“Can I interest you in some homemade jollof rice?” She asked with a smug smile.
“Please.”
“You know, it’s very nice to have you here. The house is exceptionally quiet on weekends since the staff go to spend weekends with their families except for the gateman.” She had placed a pot on the cooker and poured in some of the ingredients.
“Why don’t you have permanent staff?”
“Hmm, maybe because everyone deserves some family time every now and then. Well, that’s my belief though, it may contradict yours.” She was stirring the jollof sauce. She soon added rice to it and let it cook. “Why don’t you grab a stool and sit? You’ve been acting out of place since you came. Do I scare you?”
“No ma’am. I just don’t want to get in your way.”
“In my way? That’s funny, feel at home, Kunle.” She sat on a stool beside him and flipped through a cookbook.
“Do you need a cookbook to make jollof rice?” Kunle couldn’t suppress his curiosity. Mrs Eze laughed so hard that she threw her upper body on the table.
“This is for intercontinental dishes.” She managed to say amidst her laughter.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He looked at the table, embarrassed.
“It’s okay, not everyone can cook. My daughter-in-law sent me this, she expects me to be able to make some English foods by the time she puts to bed.”
“Oh, she’s pregnant. Your son, he’s into white women?”
“I don’t believe so, he didn’t marry her because of her color, he married her for love. You see Kunle, love is a crazy thing. It breaks barriers and norms, it is no respecter of age, race or ethnicity.”
“I’ll bet, your husband seemed to be way older than you.”
“Well, if you say so.” Kunle watched her expression drop, he hoped he had not hit a nerve. “And you see, my husband is Ibo while I’m Yoruba.”
“I didn’t know that. That’s so cool, ma’am.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you dropped the formalities, call me Aunty Grace.” She stood and walked to the pot. Kunle couldn’t see what she was doing but the movement of her arm showed she was stirring.
“Food is ready.” She announced like the chefs from the YouTube videos Kunle would spend hours watching. He looked on as she got out plates and served the food.
When she placed the plate of jollof rice and fried beef in front of him, Kunle feared he was going to die eating. It was too much food but he couldn’t even say no.
“Thank you, ma.” He let her sit before he dug in. The food was delicious, it was spicy and savory. Kunle was happy he barely touched his meal earlier because he sure was going to finish this.
“Do you have other plans for today? I’d like you to help me choose a suitable property.”
“No.” Kunle answered after a quick thought. This was just for business, he tried to convince himself.
“Good. I think you should call your parents and inform them.”
“No, they won’t miss me anyway.” Mrs Eze gave him a knowing look then continued with her food.
“You love art, eh?” She said after a while.
“Yes.” Kunle’s face lit up and he smiled at the thought. It’s been so long since someone asked him that.
“And you want to study it?”
“Desperately. Well, I can’t though. My dad won’t allow it.”
“You know what my son did? His father wanted him to study mechanical engineering but his heart lay in computer science. He convinced his dad to send him to the UK where he studied mechanical engineering for a semester and then switched majors.”
Kunle’s eyes widened in shock. “Do you really mean it?”
“Yeah, it was when he graduated that we got to find out. His father couldn’t do anything at that point. Listen Kunle, we owe our parents a lot but we don’t owe them our lives because when they die, it’s us against the world. It’s your life and mine, we should be in the driver’s seat, not just tucked in the background and forced to watch while someone else takes control.”
Kunle thought it was good advice but he doesn’t want to rebel against his parents, he has always been obedient to them and it’ll feel weird to turn against them all of a sudden but she’s right, it was indeed his life not his parents’.
“I’m not saying you should be like my son Jude. I’m just saying you do you.” Kunle laughed at her use of a Gen Z slang, this young looking older woman evolved unlike many others.
“You know you look very young, like you’re in your late twenties.”
“Thank you Kunle but why try to flatter me?”
“It’s not flattery, it is the truth.”
“I know I look young but I’m actually forty two.”
“Wow, I didn’t see that coming but then forty two is pretty young too.”
“You think?” She looked at him, this time it felt different. It was as if she saw into him, into his soul.
“I don’t just think, I know.” Kunle hoped he hadn’t said anything wrong this time, his own mother is a bit older than this woman.
“Let me wash the plates so we can look at the magazines.” She was already gathering the plates but Kunle tried to stop her.
“Allow me, it’s the least I could do to say thank you.”
“That’s funny, I didn’t feed you for thanks.” She was at the sink and turned the faucet on, Kunle stood some feet away from her. She washed the plates in silence when she suddenly yelped.
“Are you OK?” Kunle could see her finger bleeding.
“It’s nothing, I just cut myself a little.” But Kunle was not having it, he held both her hands and ran them under the running water to rinse them. “You should sit while I finish this.” He ordered to which she complied.
Kunle washed and replaced the dishes then asked for the first aid box, he got it and brought out a bandage.
“Should I just stick it on or should I clean it with methylated spirit first?” He asked, unsure.
“Just the bandage, I’m sure I can’t get infected from the knife.”
“Well you can, if you’d sliced fresh meat with it.”
“I just used it to slice the vegetables, you don’t have to worry.” Kunle wrapped the bandage around her finger and without thinking, brought it to his mouth and blew air on it. It was something Mama would do whenever she treated his wounds. When he came to his senses, he quickly let go of her hand.
“I’m so so sorry, ma’am. I shouldn’t have. It was just something Mama would do. I’m so sorry.” He apologized profusely.
“It’s alright, it felt nice. We should go back to the living room.”
They spent the afternoon looking at the magazines, Mrs Eze was not satisfied with what she had seen and they agreed that Kunle should pick it instead.
“I think this should be your decision, Aunty Grace.”
“I don’t know which to pick, they all look the same.”
“Well, the locations are different. We have the mainland, the island and the higher land.”
“Where is the higher land?” Mrs Eze looked at him, confused.
“That is nowhere, I was only kidding.” Kunle grinned like a fool in an attempt to not annoy her.
“Oh, you’re not serious. For a moment there, I thought that’s another part of Lagos.” She chuckled as she spoke. She looked like the type that seldom gets angry, the type that is always cheerful and full of life.
She later settled for two acres of land in the mainland. She explained to Kunle that her husband needed it to start a home appliance factory.
“Excellent choice, you really have an eye for good things.” Kunle said like he’s always heard his father say to his clients. Kunle looked at his watch, it was 4:26pm. It was high time he left, he was looking forward to dinner, Aunty Grace had served him fruits and cookies for lunch but Kunle wanted real food. “I should get going.”
“It was nice having you and I think it’d be nice if I drove you home.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just get a taxi.”
“No Kunle.” She grabbed a bunch of keys from the table. “That is the least I could do to say thank you.” Kunle smiled when he heard his own words being said back to him.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Stories by www.cruisehub.live
