referred me to a freud to get better accustomed into the necessary culture for businesses. After she laughed at me, and apologized about my misinformation, she strongly advised that I get a freud. And I'm supposed to be a pro.'
'Well, you were just clueless.'
'Thank you. Bunke.'
'Crazy.'
'Yeah!'
'You don’t want a city that is not, do you?'
'What, crazy?' I asked.
'Yeah.'
'Well, maybe not. I love its kind of crazy.'
'I'm as crazy as this city.' She warned.
'Haha, maybe you'll be my better freud.' I replied.
'Ah! That's not a job. You're not a terrorist. Tourist rather. (Haha)'
'Trust me, I'm not a stranger in this city either.'
'Really? So tell me what is home for you in my city. Tell me.'
‘The fire under the pots’
'What?'
'I love the fire under those pots. Right there towards the bottom left of the power station. There is real coal right inside the platform that holds the pots.'
‘O! What about it?’
‘Ummm! The yellow!’
‘Really! I love yellow too and the thing in the pot. I feel hungry already’, she whined.
‘Great! I was saying. It reminds me of childhood. I used to have this small girlfriend that cooked for me. When she came around I made the fire for her to cook. It’s usually smoke first until it gradually turns yellow and then she would get the ingredients ready and put it all in this steel pot which my dad occasionally used in his studio. It was our mini pot. Those where classic moments.’
‘Uwww! That’s sweet’.
‘You did that too?’ I asked.
‘Yeah! She replied, some twenty years ago but I was no one’s girlfriend though.’
‘What? Were you someone’s boyfriend?’
‘Ah! That’s just silly!’
‘Nope. (I dragged) Silly is the part where I call her Mrs Riggs.’
‘Mrs Riggs, whatever you mean.’
‘Mrs Riggs, the wife of…ring a bell?’I asked.
‘O! Mr Biggs. That’s so cute and brilliant. I mean for that little boy you were then, not this huge tall somebody you are now’, she added with a warning.
‘Ya! I sometimes think of calling them that name here though.’
‘Haha! She laughed… Mrs Riggs. Less than a month in Ekwulobia and you want to go around giving us names.’
‘Trust me; the women here are better cooks. They deserve the name.’
‘Well, maybe that could work, she added with a shrug.’
‘Why not? You guys cook and eat very good food here.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I don’t know about you though’, I said on a mocking note.
‘What!’
‘I’m only saying I’m not sure. It might be you work out.’
‘Of course I do. I love my shape and I take very good care of me’, she said with some pinch of pride added to her tone.
‘I love it too’, I said.
‘You should have said that first’, she replied.
‘It’s just unlike the average girl in Anambra’, I stressed with a shrug.
‘So you mean you haven’t seen someone who cooks well, eats well and still looks this slim in Anambra?’
‘Ummm! That's a hard one.’
‘OMG! Chico, do you realize what you’re saying.’
‘Ummm! Nope. Haven't said a thing.’
‘What you’re trying to say is that I’m your one in a million type of lady? Hnnnm! (She exclaimed with such seriousness on her face). Tell me Chico, am I?’
‘Quickly I switched. You’re hungry. Yes you are. So let’s have a bite of baked beans or maybe yam and potato and a taste of Mrs Riggs’ special sauce.’
‘Don’t change this episode. Say it.’
‘Say what.’
‘I’m one in a million.’
‘You’re so hungry.’
‘Say it.’
‘No.’
‘Or try Bunkechukwu, you cook so well, feed so well and still look so good. How come you’re the only one like this in Anambra and Ekwulobia? I get that a lot from even some of the married men passing by. Just say it and don’t forget ladies in Anambra are over a million. So that makes me one in a million.’
‘Right there! You said it. Now can we cross over to the other side of the street and you finally get to eat all you want, since you’re obviously so hungry, I whispered.’
‘Chico!’
‘Bukky’, I replied.
‘She shrugged her shoulders and cat walked almost at the same time as she said ‘you’re so boring Chico and FYI I eat a lot.’
‘I knew you were hungry, I replied as she stepped to the middle of the road quickly and asked if I was coming already.’
.............................................................
I can’t say I wasn’t stunned. I wouldn’t say it wasn’t a little bit dramatic. The whole conversation I mean. Didn't think I could share so much and still feel the need to share so much more.
It was just like the first day I saw her. I never thought a girl could be so lovely just like that. She came for a galactic license like almost every other person in the bank but was observably not properly attended to. She already had some sweat on her face when I got my first glance at her. She had to have breezed through gravity too long for her skin not to break into a sweat. I could tell she was tired. I was somewhere in the queue when she stepped in for a word with a bank staff. I only remember the words I heard her say just before everything got blurrily.
‘I can’t believe I've been all out in 2d, meeting 4 times more people I normally would meet, traveling 3times more through space I normally would, all at the same moment and all for nothing’, she said.
Just then, the man in front of me who looked like some consultant was heads up. Three young guys who chatted about something they watched through their 3d glasses which had to be fascinating looked up again like people who didn’t realize what went past them the first time.
I also remember how the woman on the other side of the glass began to stammer until Toluwase, as was written on the ID attached to his suit came to her rescue and was still saying just about the same rubbish. And someone, who had to be one level higher than the guys that first attended to her just had to be passing by at that particular time. He was tall but I beat him to it. He told her how sorry he was together with the staff at the bank, the branches of the bank and the network traffic coordinators as well as he called her over to sit just around the corner. Right then also, the woman who sat around the corner who looked like a fourth class labourer with a french cultured gait immediately understood Igbo and all that was going on all over the floor because she stood up almost immediately and said ‘Nne, sit down ehn’.
‘There, I’ll be back’ is what the tall guy told her as he went frantically behind the glass with some documents in his hand. Sincerely it was hard to figure out exactly what was happening. It was the feel of tables turning down, waters flowing up and ball pens hitting the floor in slow motion. In fact until my ball pen hit the ground I didn’t know I was next on the queue. That was our first.
…………………………………..
So before long, it was our turns to order for our native snacks on the queue and we did. She made a good joke out of my Mrs Riggs idea with the sales girl who was doing a good job being slow. Surprisingly everybody enjoyed the joke. I enjoyed the way she talked to everyone there and couldn’t forget for a moment that I was there. She asked me if I thought they were really qualified to be called Mrs Riggs and daughters and I said ‘Yes’. They called her beautiful woman in Igbo as they laughed.
It was probably that kind of beauty that made me curious enough that morning in the bank to float to her sit and ask her if she usually sounded like that even on a bad day. And she replied, ‘No, I’m not having a bad day’. So I just told her like a gentleman that I am, ‘I just loved
your voice’ and she said, ‘Thank you’. That wasn’t all there was in my mind that morning but she was already up on her feet and about to go into one of the glass rooms to meet the tall guy. So I probably just had a window to tell her my name and say ‘hope to see you some other time’.
So she held out one piece of yam to my mouth and said ‘for a brilliant idea, have a bite and tell me what you think’ so I did.
‘Just one word’ she added.
After some chewing, I replied ‘Terrific!’ in a doubtful tone.
‘Terrific’, she asked? ‘Are you saying that because I’m putting you on the spot or for lack of good English tutors'.
‘That just came out randomly’, I retorted.
‘Okay! I’ll give you one more chance. You’d have to tell me what you think about the potato in a bite too.’
‘Okay’, I said. ‘But I’m sure it’s going to taste exactly like the one I bought too.’
‘Shhhh! One word and trust me, mine always tastes better.’
So I said ‘fantastic!’
‘Fantastic kwa!’ she was taken aback but recovered quickly as she said ‘while I was thinking you would come up with a better word than terrific. You say fantastic. Yack!’
‘Well I didn’t do so well with English and literature in school’, I confessed.
‘No wonder’, she replied.
…………………………………..
So we laughed again as we walked down a street in the less lively and noisy part of Ekwulobia
She asked, ‘so why do you walk past this street almost every day’.
I said, ‘it’s the easiest route to my humble abode’.
‘You and Humble!’ she compared.
‘How did the words even come out of your mouth? She continued. Not with the proud height you carry up and down while walking; you still believe there’s something humble about your abode.’
‘Now, you are bullying me because of my height right?’ I replied.
‘That makes it a draw then.’
‘O! We’re counting scores now’, I asked?
‘If you say so’
I laughed and said, ‘you’re just a piece of work’.
So after a brief pause she started again.
‘But really, you know I think you’ve been stalking me all this while’, she said.
‘Stalking you?!?'
‘Yes and I live 3 blocks from here.’
‘No!’ I dragged with the expression ‘you’re not serious, are you?’ written all over my face.
‘Seriously, I live on this street and I’ve seen you go past it 4 times at day light and 2 times at night at least for no more than ten 24s now.’
‘Wow! You’ve been stalking me’, I quickly replied.
‘No I've not. You’ve been the one stalking me, Chico’
‘No way, I replied with a suspicious look against her face.’
‘What? You’re giving me the eye already when you know you’re really the stalker here?’
‘Why am I the stalker here’, I asked.
‘The bank’ she said.
‘What about the bank’ I asked.
‘Twenty minutes after we had that little chit chat of ours on the lounge’, she added.
‘Uhun! The one where I really loved your voice and you couldn’t let me see the blush on your face when I told you it was adorable right?’ I asked.
‘So is that why you waited outside the bank till I came out?’
‘No, I don’t remember ever seeing you that day again.’
‘So if that wasn’t you deliberately stalking, then the Comic wall in Beeva's underground tunnel the next day would definitely be you, right?'
‘Wow! I had no idea I was on a hot seat already,’ I said.
‘You better sit tight,’ she replied.
‘Okay! But first, I won’t use the word stalk. I don't think you're a prey. I'm really not a hunter either.’
‘Uhun! Continue.’
‘I'm not serial.’
‘Ooooo! I'm scared. She whispered with a light mocking tone attached.
‘Don't be. I’m not a stalker. I don’t know about the comic wall thing. I only remember dragging behind you the first day I realized you used the salon on my street.’
‘St Mark is your street?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hnnnm. So exactly how far did you drag along, Chico?’
‘Only to this point Bukky, the block of flats you call home’
‘Oh! And here we are. I live in one of the elevated flats. I guess i really love my space.’
‘O! And I never knew that. You would expect that I knew if I really were stalking. But I don’t because I’m not.’
‘Good talk. Chico!'
‘Thank you’, I replied.
‘Save it because you successfully did a bad job defending yourself.’
‘Woah! Someone is upset?’ I said.
‘Just say you’re a stalker.’
‘Alright I am.’ I replied.
‘Suddenly she leaped and asked, But why Chico?’
‘Well, for a start I realize now that it’s face of Darego you look like.’
‘Yeah! She’s my big sister’, she replied with some more light on her face as she vanished and reappeared into the tube that would suck her quickly into her flat.
‘You bet.’ I replied.
‘But no, seriously I worked with her some months ago. I even have pictures of us.’
‘So that makes her your sister?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’ she replied as she stalled the tube from moving.
‘Well, here’s something new to think about tonight.’
‘What?’
‘Your lips are part of your first five features.’
‘Well, I get that a lot; she replied as she flung her hands through her braids and stepped backwards into the tube. 'It looks like face of Darego’s lips right?’ She added.
‘No!’ ‘It’s more like what comes out of it. Don’t get your hopes too high.’ I
‘Well, that’s the kindest thing I have heard this night.’
‘I told you I was a gentle man, I replied.’
‘I believe you now!’ she had to scream now as the engine powered up with some screeching.
‘Let’s do this some other time she added, this time her voice fading in.
‘What?’ I quickly asked.
‘You try being a gentleman again.’ She answered ‘You might even get to taste how good a cook I am, she added like someone whispering and yet her voice finding a way through to my ears.
‘How’s that going to happen? Are you planning to waylay me for five minutes again?’ I asked?
‘I’ll just hit you up.’
‘How?’ I asked.
‘O! I have your local already.’
‘Wow! You’re even a better stalker than I am.’I screamed as she looked down from above me in the tube waving.
‘Good night Chico’, came down like dew sliced on the pores in my skin.
Good night Bukky, I replied, feeling a bit cheated that I had to be the one on the other end. I felt the moment could last longer if we were both on a Prestige 42000. We would have almost an hour more to make up 5 minutes in real time. We would have saved time and saved each other in some kind of way.
But we did. In fact we spent over twenty minutes with Mrs Riggs and I remember every moment of it. I remember when I’m in a barbing salon. I remember the following day, the day before and today. I remember her face, her big jovial lips, her rounded neck, the door in her teeth, the warmth on her palms and the swag to her moves.
These days, I just try to eat yam and potato somewhere else. I try not to read fashion magazines. I try to let her loose in my head as she floats into her space, still hoping my prestige 1million would seize a day and make it for two with my name trickling down from the clouds like,
‘Chico!’ the only way it can sound in her mouth.
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