without the pimples, and possibly with a beard or moustache, he could easily have passed for a 24 year old. Remi repeated the series of questions and wild arm movements she had already performed at the train station just minutes before. They had the same effect on this boy, as they had on the people she had met earlier: absolute confusion. In fact, the boy thought she was trying to get a special brew, and so the poor boy kept telling her in German to "look there" while pointing to a blackboard with the café's menu chalked in white and blue letters.
"Oh God! Ki ni n ma se?" a frustrated Remi cried out, further scaring the already frightened sales clerk.
"Ki lo de? What's the matter?" a man's voice asked, out of the blues.
Remi turned around so quickly that the rubber band which had held her braided hair in a loose pony tail, simply broke off, and went flying into an obscure corner of the café. Her hair, thus liberated, fell in cascades over her shoulders and in front of her face, temporarily blocking her vision. Had she imagined it or did she just hear someone speak Yoruba and then English? In this café?
"Excuse me, could you repeat yourself?" She felt the words form in her head, but they never made it to her mouth. She just stood there, mouth ajar, gazing in wonder at this stranger. It suddenly occurred to her that her hair was blocking her view. Pulling her hair away from her face with her right hand, she let her left hand fall to her side, holding onto her large purse. With her hair out of the way, she got a good look at this stranger. She knew he was the same man who had been sitting at the table in the café, when she entered, just by looking at his bald head. From where she stood, she could see the newspaper he had been reading lying carelessly on the table like a pile of dirty laundry. The man must have been reading Remi's thoughts because he repeated his words, exactly as he had said them the first time.
This time, Remi heard him correctly and knew she was not mistaken. This man had to be a Nigerian. But how could that be? His face was …
"I said 'Ki lo de?' " the stranger repeated. The man in front of her was slightly taller than her. He had a long torso, broad shoulders and big hands, the sort of hands that looked like they were built to lift heavy things. He was light-skinned, the kind of man Nigerians would refer to as a 'yellow paw-paw.' Thick black eyebrows framed deep-set eyes, which Remi knew she would never forget for one reason: they were green. And his lips? They used to be pink, but were now tainted black, a tell-tale sign of a man who has been smoking cigarettes for years.
He never lost his cool and seemed mildly fascinated by Remi's flustered appearance.
"Are you a Nigerian?" was all Remi managed to say, as if that was the solution to her problem.
"Of course. Or do I sound like a Ghanaian?" he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he switched to a perfect Ghanaian accent, and quickly added "Chale, long time!"
Remi laughed in spite of herself. This stranger was funny.
"Sorry, it's just that … I need to get back home … and well, I'm lost," was all she managed to say.
"But of course you are, and you’ve scared poor Rupert too. It's his first day on the job." He was right. Even though she had failed in her attempt to ask him for directions, she had certainly succeeded in transferring her anxiety and nervousness to him. The stranger apologized to him and the boy happily returned to his duties.
Taking Remi by the hand, he gently led her away to one of the five tables in the café, the one right beside the window overlooking the street, and offered to buy her a cup of coffee. Remi, who was only too glad to have met someone who understood her, eagerly accepted his offer. Ten minutes later, they were both sipping hot cups of coffee and talking.
The stranger introduced himself as Olisa Adigwe. His father was a Nigerian, an Igbo man, and his mother was a German. They had met when his father was in Germany for studies in the '70s. Olisa was the third of four children, and had lived in Germany until he was six years old. His family had relocated to Nigeria in the early '80s, but he had visited Germany almost every year since he was 13. He worked as an engineer for Mobil in Nigeria, and was on a month-long vacation. Remi, on her part, parted with only a very condensed version of her life's story, leaving out sensitive details, and being careful not to refer to Kayode as her husband, but rather as her fiancé.
"So, Olisa," Remi said, taking another sip of her warm beverage, "since your mother is German, do you have a German name?"
"Do birds fly?"
"An ostrich cannot fly so …"
"You know what I mean jo," he said laughing at her feeble attempt to make a joke. "My mother named me Klaus, after her father, my grandfather. So my full name is Olisa Klaus Adigwe. Some of my friends call me Olisa, some call me Klaus. For those who are prone to butchering both names, I tell them to call me "Kay." That way, everyone is happy, and my name is safe from unnecessary mishandling."
That first day, they talked for hours in the small café. Remi who had been worried about getting home late, completely forgot the time and the clock ticked away. But, at about 4:30 p.m., when a few people who had finished early from work began to stream into the café, they felt like they had lost some degree of privacy, and promptly left the café. With Olisa's help, Remi was able to get back on the right train and in no time at all, found herself back home in Kayode's apartment. Remi never mentioned her little adventure to Kayode, but rather, chose to keep these things to herself. In her mind, this newfound friend, was her little secret, and she had no intention of sharing it with anyone. Not even Kayode.
As is common in stories of this nature, little secrets never remain little for long. So it was with Remi and Olisa. From the very first day they met, each felt an indisputable and inexplicable attraction to the other, and neither fought off that attraction. Olisa told Remi on that first day at Café Isabella, that he had a girlfriend back home in Nigeria. So, for all intents and purposes, they knew each other's status relationship-wise. One was engaged to be married, and the other was in a long-term relationship headed for marriage. But neither of these factors deterred them from seeing each other.
Remi and Olisa saw each other almost every day for the rest of Olisa's one-month vacation in Berlin. His plan to visit friends and relatives in other European countries was put on hold, and he decided instead to spend his entire holiday in Germany. The reason for that was of course, obvious: so he could he close to Remi.
After class each day, Olisa would take Remi out to lunch at different restaurants. From French to Dutch to Thai cuisine, Remi got to sample Berlin's culinary delights at Olisa's expense. After lunch, he would take her to see the sights and sounds of Berlin. Since he knew the city like the back of his hand, he was the perfect tour guide. They visited art galleries, museums, historical buildings, parks, zoos and other attractions, including the Pergamon Museum, which Remi had begged Kayode to take her to see, and which he was always making excuses for not visiting. The excuses ranged from physical fatigue from working so hard at the office, to unfavorable weather since this was June, right in the middle of summer. Since Olisa was taking her out to all these places, Remi stopped asking Kayode. He just assumed that she had finally realized he was not an outdoors type of guy. He had no idea that Remi had long since concluded that he was irredeemably anti-social and had given up any hopes of molding him into the man she wanted him to be. As far as Remi could see, that dream was dead, and she did not particularly care to revive it, since her own social life was in full bloom.
But as we know, Fate is a master meddler, never leaving things alone as they are. Change is Fate's weapon, the uninvited guest that no man can keep away. If Remi had not been so wrapped up in this whirlwind romance with Olisa, she might have noticed that the man she was living with was changing. And nothing had spurred Kayode's change in behavior, other than Remi's aloofness. She no longer cared if there was any food waiting for him after work, did not show any particular interest in his work life or career, and did not bother him with her usual requests.
Kayode assumed that this withdrawal of affection and interest, was a direct result of her newfound freedom, that is, her language class and everything that came with it. He had no idea how close he was to the truth, and yet how far off the mark he was. Remi's indifference caused a pronounced difference in Kayode.
Kayode began to open up his life to Remi, who he had kept at arm's length since her arrival. He began to introduce her to the people in his social and professional circle. First of all, he introduced her to his closest friends, who by themselves were a curious bunch, as they came from other parts of Europe, and some of their names were difficult to pronounce. She got around that challenge, by giving them her own nicknames, a trick she had learnt from Olisa. Kayode's friends did not seem to mind their new names, either, and often joked that they would have to officially adopt these names sooner or later. Later on, she met some of his colleagues at work, including his supervisor, Mr. Bergdorf. It was Mr. Bergdorf who first asked a very important question in a remarkable way: if they were engaged and they loved each other, when did they plan to get married? Their parents had asked this question, minus the "love factor," in varying degrees of persistence