“It was a brutal picture, a tug of war between two equal but opposing impulses. It had the ring of truth, however.” – Deborah Harkness.
•••
“So, what would your orders be―Mr. and Mrs…”
An elderly, grey-haired man, who was dressed in a white apron with a resplendent, yet attractive emblem plastered in its center―beamed down at them. A portable dashboard was glued to his fingers. He oozed an aura of control and ease, and Lani knew without making enquiries that he was the founder and manager of the establishment. It was well into afternoon―a couple of minutes past noon, she guessed. She was here on Tari’s request to grab a quick, light lunch with him. After agreeing to his earlier proposal, she had gone further to iterate, that it’d be a concise and succinct meeting as she didn’t have the luxury of time to lavish. That was broadly the truth though, but wasn’t quite so far off the mark.
The interior of the outlet was decorated mostly in oak and vintage upholstery. Although the furniture was very much contemporary, and glass paneled with the radiant, almost conspicuous logo of the establishment scrawled on it. The same went for the artillery and utensils, and pretty much the walls. The table they currently occupied was one of several ones pitched by the large floor to ceiling window frame. It gave them an uncensored, explicit view of the busy life in progress outside their confinement of comfort.
“…Ibiyemi.” Tari returned the man’s exuberant smile, as she suppressed the urge to ram the peak of her pointed peep-toe, platform heels into his shins. She wondered why he refused to rectify the man’s misconception and indulged it further. It was probably all in an elaborate ploy to send her into a fit―which he enjoyed―but she wasn’t going to become a subject of his cunning game to amuse himself. “We just returned from our honeymoon in France actually, we had a blast. Don’t mind my wife’s obvious frown, she just wishes we could spend our entire lives in Paris and not have to return to the cutthroat life back here in Nigeria.”
“Oh, I see.” The man’s fascinated pair of eyes had shifted to her now. Oh great. She was still glowering at Tari, hoping that the heat of her gaze would morph into laser beams and wrench open his wretched, handsome face. “It is hard, I guess. To be in a very pleasant, developed area compared to ours here, ejected from life and being with the one person that means the world to you…”
Oh, please.
“…but the real thrill and challenge is keeping it magical while being in a non magical place, I guess.” The man finished. “It’s more work for you, but the end product is more fascinating. So, what would you like to have then?”
“I’d have a Bacon cheeseburger, two platters and one bottle of Coke.” Tari replied, as the man scribbled the orders into the pad in his hands, seemingly as though his order was a convoluted item on the menu that could be prone to forgetting. “She’d have the same thing as me.” Tari finished off and turned to face Lani, who’s squinted eyes was fixed on the manager. “Right, honey?” A jeering smile washed all over his face.
Her brows furrowed, and she bit down on her lower lip. It was taking every atom and molecule of resistance that she had in her to not voice her protest on his charade of lies, and now he was extending it by choosing for her? Rather than find it imposing, offensive or sexist, she shrugged nonchalantly in a way that implied that her taste was in accord with his. After the man walked away, she picked up the fork laid out before her on the table, right next to a white saucer and waved it in his face like she was going to jab it in.
“The next time you choose something for me or do any other thing that relates to me without seeking my opinion first―we’d be having your eyeballs for lunch.” She mustered her most daring glare and threatening voice and judging by his resulting reaction, it seemed that he didn’t get the message at all—as he was fighting his own battle of suppressing a grin. “You think it’s funny? Coming in here and acting like you’re my husband and taking orders for me? Even if you’re my husband, that’s just wrong. So because I’m married, I’m not entitled to my own opinion anymore?”
He wasn’t looking so amused anymore. “Of course not, you’re entitled to like whatever you like. I only played along with the man’s assumption and concocted an elaborate story because such sentiments get you discounts in some parts of the world. It’s not wrong to try it out here and as per the burger part? I sort of guessed that you still loved Hamburgers for lunch, from way back—you know. And I’ve been here several times to know that their bacon cheese hamburgers are the best type.”
Her scrutiny concentration became diluted, as she reclined in her chair. So, he hadn’t been overbearing and misogynistic after all. He had actually been thoughtful and enterprising. She felt almost bad that she had responded in such nuclear manner, but at least she hadn’t lashed out at him. She kept on supplying her mind with these inconsequential thoughts so they wouldn’t venture towards the unaddressed elephant. The fact that he could remember something as insignificant as a favorite meal from several years back? What was he? A log of events? A diary?
“Okay, but next time—give me a heads up.” She said. “And thanks also, I did feel like getting a hamburger. But you should totally get what you want to eat and not what I want. Now that I think of it, you probably don’t change what you eat in the afternoon. It’s like you said earlier―that you’ve tested it and you know it’s good. How come the man doesn’t know you from before, anyway?”
“Beats me,” His shoulders rose in uncertainty. “I mean, he is a really old man and people of his age range tend to forget things a lot so definitely he can’t remember my face, even if I come here every day. He’d only remember the type of people that come with five or six of their friends and shout stuff like ‘all drinks are on me’ and the likes. Not quiet people like me.”
“You say quiet like it’s a bad thing,” Lani sat up. “And refer to lousiness like it’s a good thing.”
“Well for the employees here, it is good because well? Increase in profit? And no, quiet isn’t a bad thing. It just isn’t a splendid thing either.” he was saying, just as the man arrived with two trays containing their orders. After setting it on the table before them, and humoring them more on the challenges of the fresh couple life, he left for the counter. Almost as if sensing her displeasure, he went on to clarify. “Do you really have to bother much about what someone who doesn’t know you, think about you? That didn’t used to be your style, Lani. You used to say stuff like be more spontaneous and wild and all sorts.”
She snorted. “Yeah, except that we grew up. So is it now that you want to be a teenager? Back then when you were acting all grown up and uptight, and I encouraged you to loosen up―it’s now you finally want to take my advice? When we’re all adults?”
“Well, you did say adulthood sucks and no one should hurry to get there.” He was wiping his hands with the serviette napkin, getting ready to plunge into his hamburger. “It doesn’t mean that when we get there, we should stop? How about we just drive past it and act like we aren’t there?”
“And then get to the elderly, old stage?” Lani shook her head. “No, thank you I like adulthood very much. It’s either that or you’re just speeding to your death. Anyway, please let’s talk about something else. Metaphors aren’t really my strong suit.” She was already helping herself to her own meal, as she took one hearty, wholesome bite at the burger.
“Similes then―”
“This is not English language class, Tari. What did you say about acting younger? Stop trying to school me and grow up.” She paused, her eyebrows creasing at the meaning of the statement, prompting laughter from him. “I know how ironic that sound, but just let it slide. So tell me, how is day to day work at the site?”
He shook his head. “The old Lani is truly gone. You were the master of small talk in the past, that you had so many inexhaustible topics. I almost thought you had them all pre-planned in some sort of curriculum. Here you are now, seizing every opportunity to make work talks pop up here and there.” He sighed.
“Curriculum?” She eyed him. “Yea, go ahead and exaggerate. From metaphor to simile to irony and now―exaggeration. Great. Tari Soyinka.” She took another bite off her burger, ignoring the chuckle she induced from Tari.
“Well, you know. Syllabus of subjects containing topics and all that. So yeah, school curriculums and stuff.”
“You really want to pull through with this? What did we say about acting younger, and being less uptight?”
“C’mon that’s totally a young person’s jab.” He insisted amidst a mouthful of bread and cheese lodged between his teeth, but she persisted by shaking her head. “Anyhoo, as I was saying, you hardly recycled topics before in the past. You just had a wide variety of stuff to choose from. Now to prevent a very awkward silence, you’re asking me the same question you’ve asked a couple of times already.”
“What can I say? We’re in an era where recycling is so dominant and beneficial?” She humored him and although he didn’t laugh, she caught sight of his lips twitching. “Sorry, they sort of drilled that song into my head back in primary school. And by ‘they’, I mean Dstv, and their silly song of ‘Reduce, Reuse and Recycle’ or what was it again?”
He grinned this time. “I don’t think I had cable television that time, and I always wished to have one but looking back and seeing how many of my mates were addicted and hooked on it? I can’t say I’m too sad about that. God knows I might have grown a pot belly now, if I spend that much time in front of a TV, gulping down soda and swallowing popcorn.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re just being dramatic, Tari―you’re only twenty-seven. You can’t have a pot belly so early. Besides, the whole popcorn and soda thing is cliche and for show. Who gets a popcorn everytime they want to watch television? Because my father is Bill Gates. It’s people inside the television that use popcorn to watch their own television―not us. Like I said, for show. Us here, last last, gala and soft drink.”
“And I’m the one who needs to go out more?” He asked, as he chucked the final portion of his hamburger into his mouth. She didn’t know how he did it, but he could juggle eating and talking at the same time without appearing revolting and repulsive. She on the other hand had to swallow the bite of food totally before replying. “First of all, when I say pot belly, I don’t mean round, rotund ones that shoot out so much that you begin to mistake them for that of pregnant women. Just moderate or regular ones that aren’t so obvious until they tuck in their shirts and all.”
“Really, if it’s that unnoticeable then what’s so bad about it?”
“I have sort off like―a bounty on my head for that.” He sat up, commencing work on his second burger. “In the past, I was one of those people that mocked my friends for having bellies that weren’t flat. So you can understand why I am extra paranoid so I don’t get one or what would happen if someone from the past sees me with one? It’s something that they could organize a reunion party just so they could mock me with.”
“I see,” She chuckled, now wiping her own hands with the serviette. Unlike him, she had opted for just one burger. “And what makes you think that I won’t pick up my phone now, dial a number and hand you over to the authorities for due punishment. I might not be a wicked person but a bounty reward is really tempting in times like this.”
“Oh if you enjoy rewards of being asked out on a date, then you’re right on track.” He said.
“What?”
Tari cleared his throat. “If you pick up your phone and call my friends, which are the authorities in your analogy—I’m guessing, you’d only attract attention to yourself and they’d check you out. I’m willing to bet that at the end of the day, you’d definitely get an invite to dinner as the reward for turning me in because those guys are pretty much hopeless. But don’t worry, they won’t act like me and indulge the waiter’s assumption of us being married.”
She gave in to the urge to lob him hard on the shin, and he winced before jerking up straight. “I thought you pretty much didn’t have any friends.”
“We’re talking about people from our past, I guess.” He shrugged, and a previous soberness that was inexistent before was quite loud.
“Past? That’s a rather offensive way to refer to people that I’m sure are still very much alive.” She scowled. “So? What happened? Why aren’t you guys in contact anymore and why did you split? Let me guess, a hot girl separated all of you right? That’s totally it. There was one girl you all liked and it totally destroyed your friendship and worst thing, she didn’t even end up with any of you at the end of the day.”
“Hey, not to boast or anything but bromance isn’t really torn apart like that, compared to that of girls.” Did he just roll his eyes? “Fine, we guys might suck at keeping long relationships and often do things to intentionally maim one another but you’d hardly see a couple of guys fighting over a girl, compared to vice versa. So, no thank you. It’s not a girl that separated us, because we never separated anyway. Or they, to be precise. If they did, it’d be football that’d do that because their arguments could result into unreasonable conflicts at times and I’m the one always suffering.
“One time my roommates wouldn’t talk to each other, because their teams faced off and of course, there was a victor and loser. They were sending me on the worst of errands and acting like they weren’t in the same room together, it was so annoying. Have you seen boys keeping malice before? If you see it, then you’d understand why most boys don’t do it. It’s so ugly and extreme. Trust me it’s worse than girls’ own. Boys don’t keep malice, not because they’re matured but it’s because it’s very stressful and energy zapping. But the ones that have the strength to do it?”
“Wow,” Lani couldn’t help her laughter.
“It’s all sorts of horrible, trust me.” He continued. “There was a time when one of them was late for class, and the other was supposed to wake him up as per that’s their routine but he didn’t. He simply wrote ‘you’re late’ on a sheet of paper, and placed it by his desk before walking out. So yeah, I think you could get the picture now though.”
“And they say women are the complicated ones,” Lani said. “So what caused the friction between you guys then?”
“It’s like I said, there is no friction. I’m the one who simply drifted away with time.” That remorse returned. “Which is my fault, by the way. It’s my thing. I’m not usually there for people, I’m always caught up with my own shit and then I look around and expect that they’d still be there for me, even when I don’t invest in them? It’s like this thing you know that you do that’s a bad habit, and you can’t stop not because you don’t want to or you’re not making efforts to but it’s simply that way because it’s your default person and it is kind-off what defines you.”
She could relate quite well with that. The constant battle of being your truest self as opposed to what is demanded from you by family and friends. Now that she looked back on her immense efforts to preserve a lot of relationships, she wondered if it was worth it. Here she was, ejected from majority of them and having just a handful that she esteemed valuable.
“Having a lot of friends isn’t exactly the answer, per se.” She said in a bid to console him. “Of the two of us, I was the hyper social one back in secondary school and college, and where has that put me in today? Do I have more friends now than the average person back then, who kept only two or three relationships which were the most important? I’ve had to let go of many friendships that were too demanding without being beneficial. I’m not calling most of my friends back then bad people, but our type of lives just don’t go together anymore. And we can fool ourselves and call a girls’ night out every now and then, go out, get wasted and all but eventually our respective differences which has grown as a result of time and present circumstances would cause a lot of rifts in the relationship.
“We’d find ourselves trying too hard to remain cordial and all. At the end of the day, we’d end up doing a lot of work that isn’t really helping anyone before we finally face the ugly truth that we just can’t all be friends anymore like before, as we all lead distinct lives. Fine, guys might not act like they cherish their friendships so much but they always come to this reality early and face it. Girls are always avoiding it until it deals them a huge blow. Sometimes I think female friendships are overrated and all.”
“I never saw it that way.” He was done with his meal now, and was sipping from his glass of water.
“It is that way,” She emphasized further. “We girls just put too much energy into everything and deceive ourselves into thinking we’re better off than guys, but most times―not really. The only real, steady relationship I have now is with my best friend who is also fortunately my sister-in-law. I mean what are the freaking odds! Fine, such is in place in a lot of cliché, romance books but it hardly happens here in reality.”
“You betcha,” Tari said. “And you don’t get pulled into the middle of their fights?”
“God, no. They’re married.” She shook her head. “Maybe, at first back in school when I introduced them to each other, I did get put into the middle of their fights a lot but they’ve grown past that stage and now they’re married so they attend to their matter like an actual couple, privately. I’ve come to realize that marriage doesn’t exactly respect other close relationships outside it. It demands to be the most important.
“These days I’m still getting used to Fisayo telling me stuff after she told my brother. And I’m like you told him first! And she sort of rolls her eyes and replies with ‘yeah, you know cos he’s my husband and the love of my life’ and blah blah. And then I realize that and I’m like well that’s true, which makes all the stuff that we used to tell each other in the past, bullshit—of how we’re ‘soul-mates’, best friends and how no relationship in the world could change that. I’m pretty sure God snorted all the times we said stuff like that.”
“He was probably like ‘Puny, silly humans.’ ” Tari said in a ridiculously deep baritone that made her laugh.
“Pretty sure God doesn’t sound like the Incredible Hulk. Anyway, that’s the reality of life, I guess. What I’m saying in essence is that, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself for not going out of your way to keep contact with your friends. I’m not saying it’s a good thing, because everyone needs the warmth of human comfort in their lives in one way or the other, but isn’t that comfort a bit overrated? Take me for example, who has invested so much in relationships and yet I don’t have anyone in my life currently that would choose me first over anything. It’s quite hurtful.”
Their gazes locked for a brief spell of silence, and she thought he was going to reach out with his hand to clasp hers and for a split second. She wished he’d do so but he didn’t.
“Ah, this topic isn’t exactly what I thought I’d be talking about, today.” He said, refusing to give a direct reply. “How did we even get to this point in the first place?”
“I asked a question about the work ongoing on the site, which you never replied, by the way but you went on rambling on how I recycle stuff and then one thing led to another and we’re reminiscing past relationships and what-nots.” She replied. “So, maybe you should go on and answer my question properly though.”
“Work is going well, I guess. There is nothing much to say about it. I’m afraid that I can’t exactly simplify the tenets of my work like the way you did with yours today, in a fun way. The technicalities might be too complicated and all that. Not that I’m looking down on your work and calling it untechnical, I think you should get my drift.”
“I do get you.” She smiled.
“Good, that’s good. On another not so unrelated note, I do admire the brotherhood that exists between all the laborers. These men aren’t exactly swimming in pools of cash or luxury, but that look of contentment on their face is so gold and uplifting that it becomes infectious and then you can’t help but take a case study on yourself, who is striving to make the millions and live that dream life. When that dream life is subjective and that no matter how high we go, there would always be something bigger we thirst for and so we don’t live and by the time we realize we’re not living, it’s just too late and we can only regret and while regretting we forget that time is limited and we should actually be living and not be regretting and everything is just really muddled up and sad.”
“Guy why are you jinxing it! Talk like you aren’t like seventy-five years old or something.” Lani groaned, and drew laughter from him. “Seriously, I can’t imagine anyone being in a relationship with you. If it’s a reckless person, it’s either they run really far from you or they end up slitting your throat in your sleep because you’d make them feel so fucking insecure with themselves and their style of living.”
“Talking about people slitting my throat in my sleep, that could be valid for these same men in question.” He sat up. “So earlier on this week, I found out that their manager tried to con me. After paying half the fees for the labor force of hundred men, he conveniently reduced that figure by eighteen people so that he could of course have extra cash to pocket.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it was brought to light by another colleague of mine, who I don’t exactly like, but did a head count anyway. I know right? What sort of weirdo does a head count of men while they are moving about and working? But turns out he was right and I was wrong in hoping humanity has soul. Anyhoo, I got this man arrested and now he is about to be tried in court. His firm has absolved all dealings with him, so yeah he is sort of really doomed.”
“Wow.” She managed. While the vice in question was worthy of being reprimanded, she thought he had taken it a bit too far. And that was an understatement. Bribery and corruption in the Nigerian society was so dominant and common like a fashion trend people wore with pride and even bragged about. So when Tari made known such punishment measures towards it, it was enough to baffle her. But it didn’t. She knew just how high his moral compass was.
“You also think I went too far, don’t you?” He didn’t seem taken aback by her short reply. “Everyone thinks the same way, you don’t have to feel bad. And please if you’re going to go into a speech of how the country is messed up, and how it isn’t really the man’s fault―you should really save it. Even if I believed such load of crap, I can’t exactly do anything to change his doomed fate anymore. His case is in God’s hands.”
“I wasn’t going to say such, it’s not like I don’t know you.” She replied, her voice lowering to a more critical tone. “And it’s not like I haven’t had a taste of your—well, uprightness.”
It took a while for him to grasp the true meaning embellished in her words, and when he did his eyes widened infinitesimally to the point she thought they’d drop out of their sockets to the table, and tumble over to her. It wasn’t exactly her intention to rehash the bitter past, but he had been so caught up in his moral suave that he didn’t realize the repercussion of his action. It had broken the lock of many buried memories, and they had come crashing out instantly and the thing about such emotions was that they couldn’t be inhibited.
“God, Lani. I’m so sorry,” He began in that deeply apologetic voice, as his right hand raked through his hair in apparent remorse and she began to feel like a jerk already for raking up the past memories. “I was so angry at the man and so proud of what I’d done that I forgot that—that, well it didn’t end up so good for you in the past and―”
“It’s okay, really.” Her throat bobbed. “I’m way past that. It’s just that you were talking in such—I don’t know, confident way like you’re so totally right and great and the rest of us that might tolerate such and let the man go away unscathed are the villains, when in the past you misjudged a situation and because of that someone else didn’t go unscathed when they really didn’t deserve it. I’m just trying to tell you that it’s a bit different when you’re on the receiving end of your wrath, you know.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, I get it. And I know we silently agreed not to talk about the past again but now it’s just hard to shrug it off now that’s crop up. I’ve apologized to you countless times already, but the truth is that I’ve actually never placed myself in your shoes to try and simulate the pain that you must have felt that time and then what is a true apology without empathy? I’ve just been sorry that you got hurt. I’ve not exactly been sorry for what I did.”
“Wow,” She inched backwards in her chair, unsure of how to receive this dish of brutal honesty that he had served her. It stung her hard, that there was a chance that he didn’t regret his actions and that he only felt sorry for her being hurt. It made her wonder what’d happen if time was reversed and he was given the opportunity to make things right by opting not to do what he did several years back. It reared the ugly truth that he might perhaps do the same thing again.
That he was still the same, heartless, soulless, self absorbed, selfish, inconsiderate, conceited bastard that she thought him to be. And it was sad and even more terrifying because she was starting to nurture feelings hearkening to great affection for him which was totally unhealthy, because if this man sitting before her bore any resemblance with the beast of the past, it was advisable that she take off on her heels and put several millions of miles between them.
“But now that I do look at it and try to view things from your side, I don’t see my side as the ever righteous one like I did before.” He continued. “You trusted me, which is a good trait of a good person but I betrayed that trust and brought hell on the both of us. The worst thing is that I didn’t even get to atone for my sins in anyway. You paid for them all, while I got out unscathed. I’m trying to compare myself to this man that I’ve just condemned. We’re not really different from the side of the looking glass.”
He indeed felt remorse for what he did, that much she could deduce. She just couldn’t exactly ascertain which sin this remorse stemmed from. Was it their turbulent past or this current shenanigan? It was hard to tell.
“It’s still a bit different, though.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to pacify him but the compulsion was intense. “This man in question isn’t your friend and he definitely didn’t trust you. More so, what he did wasn’t a good thing. It’s quite different from what happened about ten years ago now. Surely, if these things were factored, your reaction would have been a little bit different. I mean try to picture one of your friends doing such. Do you really see yourself punishing them the way you did the building manager?”
His unapologetic glare was enough reply. It didn’t matter if it was a friend or family, to him everyone probably deserved such scolding. While that was behavior that was a characteristic of a high level of discipline, it didn’t exactly say a lot about being humane. Wasn’t he capable of pity? Empathy? Love?
These thoughts travelled the borders of her mind.
“I really don’t know, I mean I never had many friends.” He replied. “Rather, I don’t have friends…”
She couldn’t help the cold chill that settled in her chest. He didn’t have friends? Why? He wasn’t a sadist neither a wicked, heartless person. There were people who had worse social lives than him, yet had more friends than he had. Why? The answer was of course as obvious as the order of days in a week.
Because he didn’t care about anything that wasn’t himself.
“…but maybe, It could have been different. I really don’t want to think to that area.” His words resurfaced in her head, as her attention returned back to the present. Before today, she’d have thought it impossible for a person to look unapologetic and remorseful at the same time but that was exactly the highlight of his profile currently. “But I’m really, incredibly sorry for making you go through that, Lani. God knows if I had the chance I’d take the fall myself.”
‘You’d take the fall yourself’, not ‘I’d decide not to do what I previously did’ or ‘I’d go back in time to prevent all what I caused’ or any other statement that epitomized regret. It was just as she guessed. He didn’t regret what he did. He only felt sorry for her. The same feeling armed robbers felt after raiding a house of a family that isn’t exactly financial buoyant. They’d rob them of their money over and over again, if they get do-over opportunities but since they hadn’t devised a way to pull their heart out of their body systems yet, they still felt a bit sad for their victims. For their preys.
For some reason, the surrounding air became suffocating and the once comfortable atmosphere became unbearable.
“Tari, I’ve overstayed my welcome and I really have to get going.” She was on her feet already, draping her bag through her shoulder while an alarmed look flashed across his face. He too was apparently stunned by the sudden nature of her retreat. “This was good though. We should do this sometime, when we see again.”
She definitely knew that it’d be in her best interest to put a considerable level of distance between them henceforth, but her statement wasn’t uttered on the grounds of pleasantries alone. She meant it and wanted it. Which was all levels of unfathomable crazy, taking into consideration how hazardous such implication was.
“Okay then, I guess.” He was on his feet, as he stared at her—not exactly sure of how to say good bye. A handshake was too formal and a hug, well―way too intimate. Leaning over the table gently, she reached for his left shoulder and squeezed gently before turning around to leave, the feeling of emancipation descending on her. But it felt anticlimactic, all in all. Because she felt like she was leaving the gallows of a captivity that she so much enjoyed and loved, despite the side effects it could inflict. Like a soldier leaving the war ground, and feeling liberated at the thought of returning home to his family and leaving too much bloodshed, but at the same time aching at the change of environment because while bloodshed and battle impaled the humanity in him, it defined him. Made him alive.
And Lani knew without doubt also, that Tari made her feel alive.
*****
“Urgh! Going to be facing those boys soon enough.”
Tari grunted from beside her on the back seat of the B.R.T. bus that they had boarded to transport them back to campus. It had been a trying day indeed, that had sapped so much energy from them due to the toiling activity that they had engaged in back at the mall. Now it was over, and a couple minutes past three in the afternoon and they were seated―worn out, and breathing heavily in the bus almost as if they just had a close shave with death by wild predator chase.
“Why do you say it like the boys are your parents, and you’re just returning from a night club?” She mused, sitting up and studying him intently. It was so easy to get sucked into a chasm while watching him. Tari wasn’t radiantly handsome, but he was so dreamy. It had to do a lot with the alluring, unwavering gaze. Even when it wasn’t transfixed on you, it was easy to get lost in it. “And well, we know just how much Nigerian parents approve of such, and therefore they aren’t exactly waiting by the door of the house with a medal and a big grin on their faces.”
“You’re talking out of experience?” His gaze finally met hers. The volume of their voices weren’t loud, but it was easy to make out each other’s voices due to the scanty state of the bus currently. She found it strange that the commercial bus wasn’t filled to its brim with passengers, especially on a Saturday afternoon but there was little time to devote to unraveling the mystery behind that fettle since most of the space in her mind was occupied with thoughts of Tari alone.
“Not my own experience,” She scoffed, almost appalled that he’d think such of her. “I watch TV and read newspaper and mingle with people who aren’t so much like me, you know. Plus, even if I don’t do all these, it’s pretty much what everyone knows. It’s like the perfect definition of immorality. If you don’t hear it at school, it’d be in church. Or at home itself, so I don’t know why you’d ask me that sort of question. Didn’t your own parents drill that sort of thing into your own head?”
He flinched a bit, and recoiled into the seat. It was then she knew she was treading on delicate, fragile shores and that she needed to exhibit great caution, lest she trigger an angry wave and get risked being washed away by it. She had once suspected that there was something sketchy about him relating to his family. Anytime the topic strayed to such tides, he always gave weird replies or reacted in an odd way. Today, she decided she was going to get to the root of the matter.
“Don’t you have parents?” She repeated, determined to find the remedy to her curiosity.
“I do have parents, of course.” His voice was flat, neutral almost as if the topic meant nothing to him as opposed to his earlier reaction. “I just―it’s not an interesting story, really. It’s not something tragic or anything but I don’t like telling people so that they won’t start feeling unnecessarily sorry for me and all that.”
“Try me,” She sat up.
“Okay, um.” He exhaled. “I have really old parents, like extra old. My mom gave birth to me right before she hit menopause, while my dad was like fifty three. Currently, my dad is about seventy so you get the whole gist.”
“Okay,” She was dazed by this realization but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so she kept her voice void of all emotions also. “Go on, I’m all ears.”
“Point is, they had me at a time when they had given up all hope on ever having a child.” He continued. “They didn’t prepare much and so when I came, there was hardly anything on ground. I lived from the pockets of many relatives of mine who weren’t cruel, I must say―but not exactly hospitable also. I was a burden to them that they had to bear because I was family. And so, to cut the long story short, I didn’t have a conventional home, or houses rather, since I kept moving from one relative’s house to the other.”
“Wow,” She didn’t know when she released the exclaim she was holding in. “Were your parents that financially troubled?”
“Not really, but not exactly buoyant to the point that they could send a kid to school and provide all what he needed.” He replied. “It’s not like we didn’t have a good enough house. Our house is okay, but of course to give an extra reason for the family people to help me, I had to go live with them and help them out with stuff, you know. And it wasn’t so bad really, trust me. I have a great family but you have to put in mind that these people on their own already have their own financial troubles to deal with and so adding mine to the mix wasn’t exactly something they were joyous about. So, I had to make a lot of compromises to convince them that I was worth it.”
“And I’m guessing technically turning yourself into a maid is part of those things.” She offered.
“A maid that was treated well.” He corrected. “They didn’t abuse me or trample all over my feelings. They might overwork me sometimes, but at the end of the day, I was still treated like a member of the family. When my nieces and nephews acted in a disrespectful way towards me, they were scolded and ordered to show me respect―not encouraged or something. The only problem was that, the work was much but that wasn’t their fault. I was the one who made the work much so that they could invest in me.”
Her insides warmed at the thought of his sacrifice. Now, she understood him way better. No wonder he was so school and work oriented. No wonder he didn’t have a care in the world for a social life. So many people were taking a collective gamble on him, by taking up responsibility of catering for his wellbeing and so it was his responsibility to deliver. Such situation didn’t make a person automatically disciplined, but for a person like him? It brought out his truest nature.
“I can understand your uptightness and all a little better now,” she said, finally. “Why you don’t want to give a social life a chance. Why you’re so focused on work and hate your attention being diverted to other places, and why you’re always acting like a freaking adult most of the time and refusing to be a teenager but no one is perfect, okay? And I know how practice makes perfect and that you’re supposed to still strive for that perfection but it wouldn’t hurt to know at the back of your mind that it’s okay if you’re not that perfect person demanded by your circumstances, because just like everybody else―you’re a teenager too.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m way older, but I’m only stuck in the body of a younger person.” Tari said. “Ever felt like that sometimes?”
“I don’t know about that,” Her gaze rerouted to the aisle ahead freed up for passage. “But I do know one or two things about feeling a bit older than you are. Sometimes I check up the calendar, my date of birth and I count from when I’ve been born till now just to make sure I’m counting right and I’m really seventeen and not you know, twenty seven because dang! I mean I know life is short and all that, and it really does feel short but still it feels like I’ve lived for a very long time at the same time. I don’t know if I’m making sense.”
“You’re making a truckload of sense.” He nodded in an enthused way that brought her to the conviction that he wasn’t faking it. “In fact, a container of sense.”
“Cargo nko?” She quipped and they laughed together. “As I was saying, sometimes it feels like I’ve really lived for a long time when I look back, and then I look at the future and I’m like—holy shit, I’ve still got several decades ahead of me. How exhausted will I be in the next ten, twenty years? But at times, when I share this thought with people, they think me very odd and crazy and even go on to say things like, they can’t wait to begin the real, fun life―which according to them, is total freedom from their parents control and blah blah, when me I’m here complaining that the life I’ve lived feels really long.”
“Independence, though.” Tari said. “I’ve always thought it a bit overrated. Definitely because of my background. All the places I lived in, all the houses of aunts and uncles―I was never treated like a kid even though I was one. I was free to make whatever decisions I liked and because of the weight of what I had to do to ensure that I kept on getting favors, that alone just kept me in line and made me seem matured, when all I was trying to do was just survive.”
“I also think freedom is overrated.” She nodded. “You crave so much to get out of your parents shelter and comfort because they’re so imposing and then you get out into the real world where you have to fend for yourself and you realize that it’s a cold world out there and no one gives a shit about you, and if you don’t go to bed at ten and eat dinner at eight―there would be no one watching over you, clamoring for you to do so with a concerned voice. No one to dote on you and every other thing you took for granted.”
“Hey, I think I’m beginning to rub off on you.” He poked her gently on her forearm and drew laughter. “Honestly, look at you talking all adult—y”
“Something that’d have to switch off when I get back to the hostel, remind me.” As if the campus had been conjured, the bus grinded to a halt, signifying the end of their journey. Quickly, they clambered out of the vehicle in haste in the fear that it might continue on its orbit if they didn’t get off quickly. They walked in comfortable silence past the main gate and into the campus, not silence per se, since the buzz of activity was transfused into the air as always.
When they arrived at the juncture where they’d part to their respective hostels, Lani gave in to an impulse that she didn’t know existed.
“See you, on Monday.” She said hurriedly, wading off after planting a kiss on his right cheek. He was petrified on the spot she left him, the kiss rendering such impaling effect on him. She laughed as she trotted further into the distance away from him. It was then that she let herself accept the truth that she had been repressing for quite a while now.
She had feelings of an erotic nature for Tari Ibiyemi.
----------------------------------------------
And phase one has come to an end, guys!!!
The first half of the story is over. Ten chapters down, fifteen to go. How has this ride been so far? Whose side are you on and why? Things are going to get pretty intense in the second phase though, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Flood the comments with your thoughts and tap that little lonely star.
See you next week, have a splendid weekend.