Maduka's POV:
Isn't it funny that I don't have Nwanyieze's phone number, despite our funny, circumstantial meetings? It never crossed my mind for one moment to ask her for it because all I could think of was that if I wanted to see her, I would drive over to her place and come up with one silly excuse or another as to why she would spend a few hours with me.
It seems so natural to me, wanting to see her regularly.
Sipping my early morning coffee, I chuckle to myself at the thought of her expression if she ever finds out how I feel about her. I imagine her slender, dark brows drawing together and that generous mouth turning down at the corners.
Would she call me a stalker?
I doubt it. I am hardly the type to stalk a woman, let alone be possessive. I like women who go out into the world and do their own thing- or slay, in the more modern language- and then come home to their men, faithful as ever, queens to their kings.
She does seem like that type.
This Tuesday morning, I'm not in a hurry to get to work. Last night, I had overworked myself at the gym and after a hot shower, slept off like a sloth. My body still feels pleasantly sore, my muscles feel like mercury underneath my skin. Taking my time, I don a charcoal-grey, three-piece suit, brush my hair, and fix my tie.
Today, I have a meeting with the CEO of a budding snacks factory, who is willing for me to supply him with raw materials, especially cassava flour, for production. I grin at myself in the mirror. The man who grins back isn't the small, orphaned boy with ringworm all over his scalp and sores all over his skin. There are no tears in his eyes, no hopelessness. This man has a goal, and he's not far from achieving it.
You're getting there, Maduka. Steadily, you're building up an empire.
The drive to my office at Ikorodu is a long one, thanks to the never-disappointing, perpetual traffic jam at Maryland junction. While patiently waiting and crawling along, I spot a CD and DVD seller amongst other sellers of different products crossing the road in front of my car. My eyes settle on one of his CDs, and the man, noticing my interest, quickly runs over to my side of the car.
"Oga saa, gu'mornin'," he greets, smiling to reveal gaps in his dentition. "Which wan you want?" Good morning, sir. Which one do you want?
"The Michael Jackson collection," I reply after returning his greeting. The CD reminds me that Nwanyieze once told me she enjoyed Michael Jackson. I myself am a fan of the late King of Pop, but I buy the CD just because of her, in the hopes that she will sing along with me or to me when I play it in her presence.
My purchase complete, the man wishes me a nice day, thanks me for the jara- tip- and crosses the road. Yours truly continues the drive-stroke-crawl to his office, thinking of ways to con Nwanyieze, my baby girl (I can't call her that in her presence yet) into letting me take her out in the nearest future.
And by nearest future, I mean later this evening, if I'm lucky.
***
My meeting goes well, a deal is signed, and I spend the rest of the day going through other prospective deals, inspecting my farms, and looking forward to meeting Nwanyieze later in the day. By five-thirty, I leave my office, allowing my employees to continue their celebration of our new deal.
Driving towards Shomolu, I'm already planning on what to tell her. I park my car outside the gate leading into her compound and let myself out. In two minutes I'm at her door, knocking. It opens and a big, fair woman stands before me.
"Good evening, ma," I greet her, inclining my head in respect.
"Good evening. Can I help you?"
She's a pretty woman, with an air of authority but I sense no intimidation coming from her.
"I'm looking for Nwanyieze. Is she available?"
"Who are you?"
"I'm Maduka."
A small smile plays on her lips and she shifts aside to let me in. "Come in, have a seat. Nwanyieze just came back from school an hour ago, I'm sure she's showering."
I seat myself on on of the couches and decline her offer of drink, opting for water. On the floor, seated admist dolls and colourful building blocks, is a toddler in pink overalls, fair as white coffee with big, brown eyes and dark hair curling upwards in every direction. She fixes her attention on me curiously.
"Let me get you the water and inform Nwanyieze of your presence," the woman says before leaving the sitting room.
Alone with the cherubic little girl, I wave at her and she gets up, walks towards me, and hands me a building block. Before I know it, I'm on the floor with her, building a little castle and fixing her dolls on the intricate minarets I have erected while she hands me the materials and watches me with fascination.
"Maduka, you can't be serious."
I look up and there she is, my baby girl, dressed in a loose black T-shirt, jeans and rubber slippers. Her thick mane is pulled up in its usual puff. Her expression, however, is not very warm.
"Hello," I greet, rising to my feet. The little girl rises, too, runs over to Nwanyieze, and drags her over to where I'm standing, to show her the castle I had built. She has no idea how helpful she has been in bringing Nwanyieze closer to me. She smells of soap and something earthy, probably smokey, the kind you percieve from natural herbs and traditional ingredients in black soap.
"You smell nice," is what my stupid mouth releases.
She seems a bit surprised, but replies, "Is that what you came her for? To sniff me?"
Baby, you have no idea how much I want to bury my nose in the crook of your neck and just breathe.
The more time I spent with her, the greater the urge to just hold her.
Act normal, Maduka. Calm down.
"I came her to take you out to dinner."
Her brows shoot up. "You're joking right?"
"I don't think so."
She bends to scoop up the child, who wraps her little arms around Nwanyieze's neck. "Adanna, go to Mummy, okay?"
Adanna nods obediently and when Nwanyieze places her on the floor, she trots away in search of her mother. Alone with her (and my water suspiciously nowhere in sight, by the way), I take a step closer, covering the space between us. She doesn't move backwards, but tilts her head upwards to meet my gaze.
"Going out tonight isn't on my to-do list."
"There's always space for change."
"APC man," she jokes, making me laugh.
"Come, let me help you unwind. I have plans already and I don't need you in any fancy dress. Just come as you are."
"Are you asking me out on a date, Maduka?" she asks, looking amused.
"Depends on how you see it."
I'm drowning in her scent, I need to touch her- hand or face or hair- but that will most probably earn me a slap or two with that fiery temper of hers. And if she tells me no, I doubt I'll recover from the rejection. I also doubt I'll ever stop coming by until she finally agrees.
She sighs, raises a hand to scratch her forehead. "Okay. What do you have in mind?"
Ah, thank God.
Nwanyieze's POV:
I'm glad he dropped by.
Okay, shoot me.
Since Mr. Adeyemo's request- or demand- I have been restless, easily agitated, and distracted. He had even been bold enough to state that I had till Thursday to give him a reply or fail his course, and that if I agree, there would be no use of condoms.
Just imagine!
I have never had sex without a condom, and now it's going to be one stupid man who is probably a swimming pool brimming with numerous STDs he must have caught from scores of girls.
God forbid!
I'm figuratively between the devil and the deep blue sea right now, and I haven't told Mama Uju, but she's noticed my recent behaviour and asked if I'm alright. My answer was positive.
I've given my all into my education, and the irony is that the same thing I've used to fund myself may very well be the same thing that will bring me down.
Maduka calls my name and I snap out of it, looking up from my purse to where he sits on the couch across the sitting room from me, patiently waiting for me to get myself ready for our outing. I said yes like ten minutes ago, went inside to wear a pair of sandals, and came out to arrange my purse. I didn't know that my thoughts had come upon me again, causing me to just sit there staring at the brown purse like it's the most interesting thing in the world.
"Is everything alright?" he asks.
"Before nko?" Why not?
Mama Uju tells us goodbye at the front door, saving a knowing smile for me, the 'he's-really-handsome-you-know' smile that I'll probably have to tell her to never give me again because this is just a casual outing, and Maduka and I only enjoy each other's company and while I may feel any form of attraction towards him, nothing will ever happen between us because people like him don't usually end up with people like me.
A/N: I wish you all single ladies out there a man who knows what he needs, who will pamper you like the Queen you are and make you see that you are worth everything and more! Remember, it's not too late to realise who you are and get on that road to Redemption! There's a King out there waiting for you oh!