The End
- Oremi: My friend
- Abeg: Please
- Oya: Now
- Aboki: Slang for a cobbler
One Evening too Crazy (Part 2)
When Folake asked for help with her purse, I felt a movement on my back but
didn’t think it to be anything.
I began to flip my memory hurriedly, trying to recall what bra I was wearing.
I chewed hard when I finally recollected.
It was the brown strapless one I bought from Mama Simi, the woman that
spread second-hand western underwear on a tarpaulin close to the corps members
lodge. It was those types that had extremely wide straps to give a firm grasp.
“Let NEPA take light please God,” I began to pray. I was daunted by
the thought of how the dull-brown bra looked on my dark bony back under the
piercing lights.
“And Folake had to clumsily drop her purse on the floor beside me, God!” I blamed Folake desperately for everything. It wasn’t her fault really but I was so pissed I needed to tear someone apart.
‘Adorable Fashion House,’ I remembered the designer. She was so passive and accepted every suggestion I made. I’m not sure she was supposed to refute them though.
I recalled telling her “Madam, please shape it again now, there’s still space here,” pointing underneath my arms. She heeded and slim-fitted the gown until I had only enough space to breathe in and out.
After blaming everyone but myself, I reverted to the overwhelming reality and slowly sunk my head into my phone. My fingers were jittery and wet even though the AC was super chilling.
At that moment, nature began to beckon me to use the convenience.
I dialed Folake’s number over and again with no response so I headed for WhatsApp, scrolled to ‘Folake Roomie’, and began to type.
Me: Flake I’m finished.
The prediction feature was at work, changing Folake to ‘Flake’ but who cared?
Me: Where are u?
Me: Plz come now! I’m in trouble!!!
Shortly, all the messages ticked the delivery sign twice and I anxiously awaited an ‘online’ notification.
Only then, I recollected she mentioned something about some guy. I felt doomed.
I was about to give up when I noticed a green indication light winking at me. I desperately hoped it wasn’t one of those irksome notifications from my internet service provider.
Quickly, I checked out my phone.
Folake: How far?
My eyes lit with hope seeing the reply from her.
Me: Come now plzzz
Folake: What trouble? U have already collected someone’s husband there? *Three laughing-crying smileys*
Me: WTH! U think I’m kidding?
Folake: Bae chill now, you’re always vibrating oh
Me: I’m not joking! My zip! For God’s sake come!
Folake: Hmm… be der soon.
Me: Why u treating me like this? My zip is open and I’m going crazy here
Folake: WOW! How come? *Six surprised smileys*
Folake: Okk coming now
I drew some breath, managed to type “K” and began to hope she would show up already. It felt as though time dragged its feet lazily and my plight was never going to conclude.
“Babe, what’s up?” Folake had surfaced.
“M-my zip, it’s bad, I…” tears clogged my eyes and I could barely speak.
“Don’t do that now, is it so bad? Lean front let me see.” She sat.
“No, no I can’t move.” I was garlanded with embarrassment, something I didn’t know how to handle, quite unlike Folake.
“Eh? You say? Is your buttock gummed on the chair?”
“Fola, see the lights, look around, all eyes are on me,” I whimpered.
“That’s what you think. Who among these people has never seen a bra before? Besides, you can’t sit here like this.” She glanced at her wristwatch, “see it’s only a few minutes past seven and the event would still last another one or two hours.”
“Why me? Why today of all days?” I sobered.
“My dear it’s called village people, they sorted out your file today,” Folake replied, choking on laughter and my face blazed with fury. “You’re taking this thing too seriously,” she continued, “relax! Okay see, just use style and bend small so I can take a look.”
“Like how many persons are at the table behind?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Don’t ask me to count and stop behaving like a spoilt girl. After all, they’ve finished seeing everything,” she said and pulled her chair closer so she could peer through two slender rods that framed the backrest of my chair.
“Babe the zip is condemned, as in it parted into two oh,” Folake remarked.
At that moment I began to psych myself to face the music. The lights weren’t going off. The zip couldn’t be remedied. The only option was to walk right through the crowd. I remembered all efforts I had put into that evening and wished it never came.
“Oya3 if I count one to three, stand up and follow me immediately.” As Folake interrupted my reveries with that sentence, I unreasonably grew madder for how easily the words dashed from her lips.
Folake was a confident and bubbly soul who was seldom in low spirits.
On one occasion, I found her walking gallantly along a busy road, wearing only one sandal and holding the second in her hand. I sped off before she approached me. When we spoke about the incident later that day, she lackadaisically said “My sandals cut and I couldn’t find any Aboki4 to repair it so I move. I don’t owe anyone any kobo.”
We tried the countdown thing severally in futility.
“Ha! Help yourself now,” Folake said wearily. Just then, the young man she went to meet earlier showed up. He was all over her and kept beckoning for her to come with him.
“Baby girl I’m coming back. Just one minute okay?” Folake said as she got up, cackling intensely from something he whispered into her ears. She threw a chunk of peppered beef into her mouth and gulped some wine noisily.
I knew I might not see her in a long while, perhaps the whole night, so my brain sent an irresistible signal to my butts. It was right then or never!
I stood up immediately and followed her. She was thoughtful to step behind so I was between her and Lover Boy.
With every step I took while walking face-down out of the hall, my legs writhed like a salted worm inside my stilettoes.
