THE IRONY OF LIFE (22)😔😔

Duration: 5mins

Oreoluwa sat dazed. It all felt like a dream.

“Fatima, are you out of your mind?” he asked, keeping his voice down as much as he could so he doesn’t draw the attention of the patrons present. “You’re my friend’s Ex for crying out loud.”

“And so? Did you hear yourself Ore? Ex, you said.  That is, we used to be lovers, we are past, history. Perhaps you should know, I have long broken up with Jamani in mind before he did. I was keeping him close so I could get near to you.”

At that point, Oreoluwa could take the shock no longer.  He rose to his feet.

“Jamani said it.”

“Said what?”

“That you’re deceitful and can’t be trusted.” 

“Not true. I'm sorry Ore,” said Fatima with glistening eyes on the verge of letting down into tears.

That was more like Fatima. Oreoluwa wondered where the boldness and carelessness she exuded earlier came from. It was as though someone had spoken through her up to that point

Whatever.

Before she could say more, he got on his way and was out of the restaurant in no time. 

Oreoluwa normally would have flagged down a taxi to take him to the station where he would board a train home. But that day, his train of thought was so heavy on him he preferred to trek. If someone had told him Fatima had eyes for him, he wouldn’t have believe. Even though he just heard it from the horse's mouth, he still found it hard to.

To imagine I have been going to Cecilia's rival to help woo Cecilia.

He walked past a restaurant and felt like going from one restaurant to another asking if Cecilia worked there till he finds her.

Cecilia

Where could she be?

Someone should know.

Fatima is no option.

He was racking his brain, turning over these thoughts when the dark, chubby lady who was on morning shift the other day came to mind. From the look of things, her and Cecilia were cordial.

When he arrived home and told Jamani the turn out of events, he laughed out loud while 'I told you' was written all over his face.

Oreoluwa managed to live through the seemingly longer night. 

By 9a.m on Monday, he was again at MAC As soon as he walked in, the lady he had come for was the first person he saw. She was attending to a patron. He waited till she was through and walked up to her. She met him with a welcoming smile, ready to take his order till he mentioned he was there to see Cecilia and her countenance took a sudden frown. 

Oreoluwa tried refreshing her memory, told her just three days ago he and his friend were there and she was the one who attended to them. Even went as far as describing the clothes she wore that day if it would lessen the tension in the air. 

But as though she was suffering from grade 1 Amnesia, she could swear she had never seen his face. 

Oreoluwa knew nothing revealing could come from her. However he decided to give it a try, asked where Cecilia resides but met with a brick wall. He further asked where she now worked. As if the lady had been sworn to secrecy, she didn’t know that as well.

She should at least be willing to give Cecilia’s phone number.

So he thought till she went into educating him on how unethical it is to give someone else’s contact to a stranger without first getting the person’s consent. Instead, she wrote down Oreoluwa’s phone number in her notepad and assured she would tell Cecilia about him when next they see or talk on phone. 

Oreoluwa had never been more helpless and dejected. He wished he hadn’t come to the lady. But then he wondered what other option he had. 

He had trekked all the way to the station and was about boarding a train when his phone rang. His mind went to Cecilia.

Could it be the lady has given her my number?

Or it’s only a coincidence.

Hurriedly he fetched his phone.

His face was disappointment personified when the caller turned out to be Fatima. 

With a snap, his finger went for the red dot button. But the tempter wasn’t done with him yet. His phone soon began ringing. This time around, he set any call from Fatima to voicemail, resisting firmly. 

Little did he know he was in for a big one that would get him concluding 

the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.

                                 .***

At Mrs. Penelope’s place on Saturday, Oreoluwa wasn’t his usual cheerful self—no whistling, no singing he just went about his job as though someone died back home. 

Mrs. Penelope noticed and asked if he was alright. He responded in affirmative. 

She pressed in further,

“Do I guess right it has to do with a woman?”

Oreoluwa was surprised, wondered if Mrs. Penelope was a mind-reader, if it was that obvious he was thinking of Cecilia. For about a week now he hadn’t made any headway in his efforts to locate her. This was bothering him he couldn’t hide it.

“If it is, you can always talk to me. No one understands a woman better than a woman. Before you is one highly experienced in matters of the heart,” she Mrs. Penelope as she ascended the stairway that led to her bedroom.

Oreoluwa considered opening up to her but on a second thought, changed his mind.

After he was done working, ordinarily, Mrs. Penelope was an accurate time-keeper she would have shown up from wherever she was in the house to inspect his work and pay him. But this time, she was no where in sight. 

Oreoluwa sat waiting, seconds turned into minutes, minutes into half an hour. 

He barely got two hours sleep from his overnight job at the factory before coming over. He didn’t know when he dozed off. 

A loud sound from a distance broke into his sleep, stirring him awake. His eyes went for the wall clock, he couldn’t believe he had waited for over one hour.

What’s going on?

He wondered as he ascended the stairway till he was standing before Mrs. Penelope’s bedroom. 

He glued his ear to her door but couldn’t pick any sound. Then he knocked.

“Come in.”

He heard from within. 

On opening,

“Jesus!” he exclaimed and froze up.

Oreoluwa was used to seeing Mrs. Penelope move about her house scantily dressed. But this time, she was all bared, leaving nothing to the imagination. 

She was on phone, seated in bed, leaning against the backrest. With one hand, she pulled the bedspread across her breast downward, unfreezing the poor young man. Then she pointed him to some dollars on her bedside cabinet. 

Oreoluwa couldn’t wait to be out of her air. 

Vibrating as though he just caught a flu, he hurried over, grabbed the notes and  was going to flee when he felt two hands clipped him by the waist, followed by a soft whisper from behind,

“Don’t you like what you see?”

==================================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.

.

THE IRONY OF LIFE (21)😔😔

Duration: 5mins

By instinct, he turned and there was Cecilia noting  down a patron's order. Obviously she saw then as they clung to each other, but she looked indifferent

Oh no!

Oreoluwa wanted to go over and tell her 'it’s not what she saw'. But he wouldn’t just be embarrassing himself but her as well.

 “I’m sorry Ore,” said Fatima, letting down tears this time as though she was the chief-mourner at a funeral service. “I was beaten and robbed at gunpoint on my way here,” she managed to add in-between her sobs.

“What? I'm so sorry. Hope you’re not hurt?” said Oreoluwa keeping a distance two persons weighing 50kg each could fill the space between them.

Fatima nodded in response.

“How good would it have been if things worked as planned; you walk in while are not expecting. Anyway, as it is, we can still work a way around it. I'd go in now, pretending as though I wasn’t expecting you'd come nor call. I'd narrate your ordeal to Jamani, that should draw some sympathy you could seize to your advantage. Once I’m able to get him out here to see you, I have delivered on my end of the plan. I believe you know what to do from there.

“Thank you so much Ore. You don’t know how grateful I am you’re going through all these troubles for me. I owe you one.”

“No you don’t, you’ve done a lot for me in that regard as well. I'd be right back.”

And off Oreoluwa went, praying the two would get back together, one hug should pull down whatever misjudgement  the earlier scene may have raised on Cecilia’s mind. Hopefully she would be watching this time around.

If only he had an eye at the back of his head, he would have caught the one-moment-ago all-teary face Fatima now wearing a faint smile. 

He got to their booth but Jamani wasn’t there, looked around but he was nowhere in sight. He asked of him with a brief description from the nearest customers; a young dark couple who both said they saw exit the restaurant a while ago.

He must have seen Fatima and left.

So he concluded till he arrived home and couldn’t believe his ears.

“I didn’t know you were also interested in Fatima. When you two couldn’t go a day without phoning each other, I sensed intimacy was beginning to develop but didn’t want to believe.”

“Haa, it’s not…,"

“Oh, you got me down there so you could make a fool of me, right? Show me you are now into my Ex. You know what, I have no issue with that. Fatima is a forgotten history never to be revisited. Feel free to date her, you have my blessings.”

“Jamani, wouldn'…”

“One piece of advice, next time, you guys should get a room rather than stay glued cuddling in public view. You only ended up humiliating yourselves.

“Cuddling? That’s enough! Will you at least hear me out?”

That got to Jamani. Oreoluwa broke the few seconds silence that ensued.

“Jamani, I swear it’s not what you think. Yes, Fatima and I have been communicating frequently on phone, but it was for no reason other than her helping me get through to Cecilia, and I in turn to you.  I can’t deny I wasn’t aware she'd show up while we were still at MAC, but it was so she could see you eye-to-eye and apologize for however she might have wronged you.”

“Of course, we saw eye-to-eye and she did apologized. Tell her I got it when next you see or phone her.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Never Mind. You just tell her.”

“Jamani, I think you should learn to find out about things before jumping into conclusion. We should thank God that girl is still alive. She was beaten and robbed of her handbag at gunpoint. It was the incidence that overwhelmed her. She was shaky and fidgety when she ran over to me. What was I supposed to do, push her away?”

“Was that what she told you?”

“Yes.”

“And you believed her?”

“Why not?”

“Did you see bruises?”

“No.”

“And she was beaten? Perhaps she meant to say she was caressed at gunpoint.”

Jamani laughed out loud.

“Ore, I can see you have some lessons to learn about women. I hope you’re not broken beyond repair in the process.”

For the rest that day and the next, Oreoluwa couldn’t get Cecilia off his mind.

Did she get the letter?

Has she read it?

It had my phone number. Not even a text not to mention call.

_Perhaps what she saw has messed up my chance._

At a point, he could bear the frustration no more. 

Better to go talk to her than grow old waiting and hoping she'd contact.

By 2p.m. the following day; a Sunday, Oreoluwa was back at MAC. This time around, Mame was around. 

He greeted her as he walked past the counter where she stood administering the serving activities.

“Good afternoon my son,” replied Mame.

Ore spotted an empty booth by a corner and was headed there when he heard her call out from behind,

“Fa-ti, you have a visitor.”

Mame's voice filled the entire space as though she had made the announcement to everyone present.

Oreoluwa felt embarrassed as he took a seat, hoping Cecilia wasn’t close by.

Why would Fatima's Mother think I have come for her daughter?

He was wondering when Fatima showed up. The first thing he spotted as she approached was her handbag, dangling by her side.

“Hello Ore, you didn’t tell me you’d come,” said Fatima, taking the space across him.

“Is this not the stolen handbag?”

“Yes it is. I was at home yesterday morning when I got a call from a  nearby police station to come get it. The robber got caught and was arrested. Ain’t I lucky?”

Ore nodded in response, now pondering Jamani's words.

“What do I offer you?”

“Nothing for now. Is Cecilia on duty?”

“No she’s not.”

“When is she coming in?”

“Not today nor anytime in the future.”

“Meaning?”

“She resigned.”

“Why?” “When?”

“Yesterday. She got a better offer at another restaurant.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where does she live?”

“Don’t know either.”

“Please let me have her phone number."

“I don’t have it. Please forget about that ingrate and opportunist. That’s how they all do after they have gotten trained by my mother.” “Will you now eat something?” she asked, stretching and placing her hand on Oreoluwa’s lower arm which he rested on the table.

“Don’t do that again,” he cautioned, pulling his arm away. “What if Jamani walked in? That was how he saw you hugged me the other day and thought something beyond the ordinary was going on between us.”

“And so. For your information, I stopped having eyes for Jamani since the first day he brought you here. Unlike him who eats on credit, you could buy your food and even for him, you are better looking and know how to listen and take care of a woman. Ore, what’s it you want in Cecilia that I can’t give you? Am I not woman enough for you?”

Oreoluwa sat dazed. It all felt like a dream.

==================================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.

THE IRONY OF LIFE (20)😔😔

Duration: 5mins

Friday finally arrived. Oreoluwa had poured his feelings on the entire page of a foolscap sheet. Nothing came easier. It was only a matter of staring at Cecilia's beautiful face and perfectly chiseled figure in his mind, and imagining their future together. Boom!  Words came gushing like an avalanche. 

By 11a.m, Oreoluwa stepped into MAC in the company of Jamani. It felt like he hadn’t been there in years even though he stopped by the upper week. 

Jamani peeked around and felt comfortable Fatima was nowhere in sight as expected. More comfortable realizing Mame wasn’t in as well. 

They settled at a booth, at a vantage corner where they could see movements in and out. 

They were barely seated when good, old memories came welcoming Jamani. Times when himself and Fatima clung to each other by a table, two love birds in a world of their own, feeding one another from the same plate, laughing out loud, oblivious of the stares from people around. He could hear her soft voice in his head call out 'Jam', and he responding, 'Bread'. 

He was beginning to get stuck in the sweet past when he shook his head, brushed it off.

I'm done with Fatima, nothing will make me get back with her.

Just then, a service girl approached with a pen and a notepad. She was still few steps away when another; an older dark lady a bit on the fat side called from behind and brought her to a halt. 

“Let me handle that. You go take the orders of the Simpsons.”

At once, the service girl changed direction towards a table that had two elderly dark folks. 

“Good Morning gentlemen,” greeted the older lady. She had a charming smile; wearing one must be a major qualification for working there as a service girl. They all had it on as though they had taken a sniff of laughing gas. 

“Gone through our menu? What will you like to take?”

Oreoluwa was going to reiterate the question to Jamani when he waved it off. He was there on a mission. He couldn’t wait to accomplish it and be out of the place. 

Food was the least on Oreoluwa’s mind as well. However, he felt it wasn’t proper making a reception of the restaurant. He ordered for a cup of coffee and cookies. 

The lady had almost not left when she showed up  the orders. 

Oreoluwa and Jamani observed as she left dishing out instructions here and there to the other girls. 

From the look of things, she was the head service girl in charge. On one or two occasions, they had seen Cecilia doing the same. 

Could she be the one for the morning shift?

They were still wondering when they saw her crossed over to the passage that led to the dressing room.

“Follow her,” said Jamani.

“Who?”

“The plump lady.”

“Why?”

“We need to know if she shares room with Cecilia so we can know how to plan our next move.”

Reluctantly, Oreoluwa stood to do as instructed, wished he could get Jamani to go in his stead. 

He was turning to leave when Jamani caught him by the wrist,

“Wait. Ore, you know the area is restricted from patrons, you need to be careful.”

“Okay.”

“Also, the place is majorly used by females. Seeing a male there could raise eyebrows. Should anyone accost you, asking what you want, just say it’s the lady who went in you want to see. In most cases, you'd be kept from going in any further while someone go fetch her. Should that happen, just drop a few lines from your letter to Ceci for her. Or you could simply tell her she’s your dream girl, your exact spec—plump, round, dark, average height. That you couldn’t help missing the opportunity to meet and tell her you like her. With this, you'd let yourself off the hook.

'What?', 'Are you kidding me?' were etched on Oreoluwa’s face.

“I mean it Homie. In such situation, you'll need to identify with someone. You don’t want to call attention on yourself. Should you appear suspicious, you may have to give a tangible reason why you’re there. You could be held up with questions till Ceci arrives and meet you there.”

As Oreoluwa went on his way, he hoped and prayed he wouldn’t have to deal with the situation Jamani painted.

It was prayer answered when he returned 5mins later, bearing the good news he saw the plump lady entered the same room Cecilia used the other time. 

As fate would have it, the lady emerged a while later, with powdered face and packed hair, looking as though she had just resumed her shift. She headed to the edge of the counter where the register booklet laid. Gripping a pen, her hand soon began dancing over an opened page.

Jamani was glad their plan was falling in place. They were discussing their next move when he stop abruptly,

“My-oh-my,” he muttered.

Oreoluwa looked in direction of the entrance where he had his widened eyes and there was Cecilia. She had just arrived, waiting for the plump lady to be done so she could sign in. It was obvious the two were in talking terms. They exchanged greetings, laughing and chit-chatting.

“Have you dropped the letter?”

“How could I have? Are you forgetting we were just talking about that a moment ago?”

“Damn! Alright, we are still on course. Go drop the letter, hurry up.”

“What about Cecilia?”

“I’ve got Ceci. You just make sure you drop the letter without her seeing you.”

Off, Oreoluwa went, hoping he wouldn’t encounter any hitch. 

As though the plump lady was part of the plan, she kept engaging Cecilia with talks, buying Oreoluwa some time. 

However, luck ran out on him when she stopped, hugged Cecilia and hit the exit. 

Jamani looked in the direction of the dressing room, Oreoluwa was yet to be in sight. 

Cecilia took the pen as though she was passsed a baton. Her hand worked the booklet like she was being chased. In a jiffy, she was done and was headed in the direction of the dressing room when Jamani blocked her.

“Good Afternoon Ceci,”

Cecilia remembered him; the guy she accidentally bathe with soup. She recalled the drama Fatima put up thinking she was dating her boyfriend.

“What can I do for you?”

Jamani had come up with a request to hold her up some more. 

“I was thinking you could help…,” he was still saying when Cecilia broke in,

“Mister, Fatima is not in. She should be here by 5. You can go wait for her or check back later. Excuse me,” she concluded and hurried past him in the direction of the dressing room

Seeing he had failed Oreoluwa, he felt like a loser as he headed back to their  booth with sagged shoulders. 

To his surprise, there he was waiting for him. 

“How did it go?”

“Mission accomplished.”

“Yes!” he had exclaimed, drawn the stares of nearby patrons before he cautioned himself.

“Homie, let’s get out of here.”

Oreoluwa couldn’t bear to leave. Fatima had told him over the phone that she would try to meet them there. She deserves to get the chance of seeing Jamani again with the hope that would reconcile them as planned. 

Oreoluwa was still think of what to say or do to get Jamani to wait some more when his phone rang. 

Speaking of the devil. Fatima wasn’t sounding well over the phone. She told him to come out. 

Disturbed, Oreoluwa hurriedly did as told. 

He was few steps away from the restaurant when Fatima came running over in tears, hugged him with chin over his shoulder. 

While Oreoluwa backed the restaurant, she could see inside through the glass wall. Her eyes searched for Jamani. 

When she caught his eyes, she smiled and tightened her hug.

“Fatima, what happened?” asked Oreoluwa, but got no response. 

He asked again, still no...

Then he felt they were too close for comfort and pulled away. By instinct, he turned and there was Cecilia noting  down a patron's order. Obviously she saw then as they clung to each other, but she looked indifferent

==================================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.

THE IRONY OF LIFE (19)😔😔

Duration: 4mins

The possibility of meeting Fatima has made Jamani rule out patronizing MAC. If he must eat-out and her mother’s restaurant was the only one left, he would rather starve. 

Besides, he's got no money of his own, so there was no point. 

Oreoluwa considered offering to give him a treat as he did a couple of times in the past; buy him lunch. But it's been a long while he did that. Bringing that up all of a sudden could get him wondering to what occasion? 

Even if he got past that. There were many other restaurants around to patronize.

What reason could be strong enough to get Jamani to step foot into MAC again?

This kept dancing around in Oreoluwa's head for days. His head was beginning to pound from the  fruitless, endless thought then he decided to give it a break. 

With eyes closed, he lounged in his usual corner at the house that Wednesday afternoon, taking a rest when Jamani, by himself brought him the idea to hook him and get him to MAC.

“Hey Hommie,” he tapped Ore by the shoulder and sat by his side.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, how far with you and that babe, Ceci?”

Oreoluwa was close to dropping the Cliché on everyone’s lips 'fine' (even when things are not so), when the password struck him,

Ceci!

“As though you care.”

“What do you mean?  Of course I do”

“I see. Yet you left your boy all to it, knowing I rely on the encouragement and helpful tips I get from you.”

To say Jamani has this charm with girls wasn’t flattery. However, hearing it from Oreoluwa bursted his head, he felt like an authority when it came to wooing girls.

“C’mon Ore, I'm ever after your interest. Just that I had a lot on my mind of late, Vivian in particular. You should know naw,”he replied with a smile. “Tell me, what’s currently happening?”

“Nothing. I have practically lost her. She called about two weeks back, we were still talking when she hung up.”

“Wait o, Ceci called?”

“Yes.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No I’m not.”

“Wow! You've done a great job already. The Ceci I know wouldn’t give any man her number, not to mention call.”

“Guy, Don’t get overtly excited. She didn’t give me her number. Besides, she  hid her caller ID.”

“Even at that, for Ceci to have called, you’re getting through to her already.”

“Have you tried crafting a love letter and leaving it somewhere she would be the only one to see and get it?”

Oreoluwa stared blankly, lost.

“Like by the door handle to her dressing room at the restaurant.

That moment, Oreoluwa’s countenance was suddenly as when a lightbulb's switch flips on.

“Wow, that never occurred to me. Guy, you’re a genius. That’s what I'm talking about. I've missed this part of you.”

Jamani grinned from ear-to-ear as he sang his praise. 

“What you now need to do is find out her shift for whatever day you decide to drop the letter. You know there are 3 service girls using the room according to the 3 shifts in the day, you don’t want the letter getting into the wrong hand.”

Oreoluwa listened with rapt attention, soaking up every word that fell from Jamani lips.

“Also, make sure she does not see you while you’re at it. You may need to do it a couple of times more before she decides to respond by calling you. I suggest you include your phone number in the letter, in case she doesn’t have it again. That’s all.” “Best of luck, Hommie,” he added.

“What do you mean by that, don’t tell me you’re leaving me all to it?”

“C’mon Ore, I’m done with MAC. I no longer have any business going there. You’ll only be dropping a letter, you don’t need me for that.”

“Of course I do. How do I go about dropping the letter and at the same time making sure she doesn’t see me? I’m no ghost man. I need you to watch my back. Situation may warrant you blocking and engaging her to buy me more time while I’m at it. If it’s about Fatima, we can always find a way around that.”

There was a moment’s pause, Jamani remained unbudging.

“Most times, Cecilia comes in for afternoon shift. We could go on a weekday when Fatima would be on campus receiving lectures and doesn’t show up at the restaurant till evening.”

Jamani was still not responding.

“Please Jamani just this one time. I promise I won’t ask you to accompany me again. Plsssss...”

“Alrite-alrite.”

“Thanks man.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You make sure you carry out your findings. I wouldn’t like to set my eyes on that spoilt, Mama's girl.”

“I will.”

Oreoluwa felt guilt-stricken with the turn out of plan. The idea of getting Jamani to MAC was Fatima’s. He would have to inform her so she could also take advantage of it. 

The next two days; Friday was most ideal to execute the plan. Oreoluwa couldn’t wait to see Cecilia again. He was positive he would win her heart this time.

During break at the factory that day, he placed a call through to Fatima and filled her in on the current state of things. 

“This coming Friday? Of all days? Oh no. I’m have practical on that day.”

Fatima was a final year student of Food & Nutrition. She looked forward to running a set up like her mother’s someday, one of a better standard.

She would have to settle for the one that mattered more to her--meeting Jamani again, or  missing her practical.

============================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.

THE IRONY OF LIFE (18)😔😔

Duration: 4mins

Oreoluwa counted himself lucky and was grateful for the favors that came his way at different points in time. But there was none like the chance to keep working for Mrs. Penelope now that the initial contract is on hold. 

It felt like a golden opportunity considering that he had lavished all he earned and was broke to the bone. Thereon, he decided to spend his income wisely. 

Even though he knew Mrs. Penelope would have informed Thaddy of the current state of things, it was only proper the man heard it directly from him, being his guarantor. 

At the factory that Thursday night, he was surprised to learn that Thaddy was knowing for the first time. His sudden shadowy countenance was evident of his shock. Such delicate matter could slip anyone's mind, not Mrs. Penelope who was a stickler for propriety. 

Thaddy was not a man given to lasting anger, his face soon brightened up as before.

“Alright Kiddo. Have you thought of it? Is that what you want?”

How Funny?

Is that a rhetorical question?

Who wouldn’t jump at an offer to keep making the usual income?

“Yes.”

“Okay.” “Just that Penelope can be…,” Thaddy said after a  moment’s pause, stopped midsentence.

“Can be?”

“Never mind. You have made your decision. I will keep giving you my support on the condition that you remain well-behaved, cautious and avoid calling attention to yourself. Okay?”

“Okay”

Oreoluwa left Thaddy's office that night, Joyous, not knowing what he was in for.

By 9a.m. on Saturday, on his way to Mrs. Penelope’s house, all through the journey in the bus, he was in a world of his own. 

As though he was going to start a new job, in his mind, he had worked, received the day’s pay and was busy breaking it down into budget. 

He added the $70 left from last time's $120 to today’s, put $150 into savings; not to be touched for any reason. The remaining $40 would go into recharging his line, transport fare and any petty need that may arise.

He soon arrived at his destination. He and Mrs. Penelope had exchanged greetings and he was off to work, whistling a song of thanksgiving along when she brought him to a  halt.

“Wait.”

Oreoluwa thought she had a chore to assign different from last time’s.

“We need to talk,” she added.

Talk?

That sounded odd.

Short of the greetings, they hardly talked. 

While he worked around the house, she was often upstairs in her bedroom. She descended after his working hours were over, to inspect, pay him for a satisfactory job, and parade her enhanced, half-naked body in the process. As though saying, 'do you like what you see?'

Oreoluwa’s thought ran here and there, wondering what it was she wanted to talk about. 

He recalled Thaddy was going to tell him something but stopped midsentence.

Could it have to do with that?

Mrs.Penelope soon put him out of his mystery with words beyond his widest guess. Armed with a pin, she burst his bubbles.

“Ore, I won’t be paying you the same amount agreed in your suspended job contract. Considering there isn’t much to do around here like before, I would be paying $70.”

That got Oreoluwa looking like deflated tyres as he took a seat as though contemplating if to accept the offer or not.

“I thought you pay per hour?”

“Yes. Your 3working hours still stands. Just that unlike before, the $40 per hour will now be $20. Is that okay by you?”

Oreoluwa was about answering in the affirmative when Mrs. Penelope suddenly spoke again, this time with lit up face looking like she’s just made a new discovery.

“Wait a minute, did I say $70? I meant to say $60.”

What?

Oh no!

Oreoluwa wanted to Beat himself for not simply agreeing to the $70.

Mrs. Penelope had intentionally gone further to cut the pay. At that point, she thought he would toss the offer in her face and walk out the door. 

Anyone could, but not Oreoluwa. it didn’t take him time to think it through and came to the conclusion that 'half bread is better than none.'

As Mrs. Penelope watched the poor, helpless young man get to work, she was glad her plans were working out.

                              ***

Steve had become as though he lived in the house, he spent a greater part of his day there, and never failed to spend the night, barely giving Jamani a time alone with Vivian. 

Oreoluwa tried capitalizing on Jamani's frustration, mentioned Fatima asking of him in the midst of their discussions, and as opportunity presented itself. But that wasn’t working. 

Many times, he offered his phone so he could at least say 'hi' to Fatima, but he simply ignored. 

Oreoluwa felt he was losing it. If he couldn’t as little as get him to speak with his Ex, what could he do to bring them together?

Fatima had an idea. If Oreoluwa would just get Jamani to show up at MAC she would fall on her knees before him, plead that he forgave her of whatever wrong she might have done, and take her back. 

Seeing her one-on-one in such state would likely break his resolve. 

That sounded nice to Oreoluwa. But getting Jamani to go to Mame Restaurant would be an Herculean task.

He began racking his brain on how he would go about it.

============================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment.

THE IRONY OF LIFE (17)😔😔

Duration: 4mins

                           

Work at Mrs. Penelope’s place had been all well and good except that she either took Oreoluwa for a eunuch, or a mannequin. The fiftyish woman looking thirty was fond of going about in cropped, skimpy wears that bare her cleavages or in a see-through robe that left just little to the imagination. 

It was when he first began working there that her appearance disturbed him. Over time, in the space of four months, he had learnt to look away and mind his business. Still, he couldn’t help wondering,

If she is this scantily clad in my presence, she would probably go about in her birthday suit when she is all alone.

From the look of things, it was simply Mrs. Penelope's way of life and nothing more.

“Ore,” she called as she descended the stairway leading to the Living room where Ore was cleaning and moving some props to an assigned room. She was dressed in a pink, net-like, flowing gown.

“The film production crew took a break yesterday. It was decided that the few episodes already produced be aired to observe the reaction of viewers.”

Ore wondered what that portends, hoped it wasn’t what he was thinking.

 “Resumption is till further notice,” she added.

Meaning?

As though Mrs. Penelope could read his mind, she dropped the bombshell,

“Your service will no longer be needed.”

The news felt like a blow below the belt. Ore suddenly couldn’t feel his legs. He made for the nearest couch before he collapsed. Blood seemed to be draining from his face as his mind raced to his empty pocket. He remembered he had blown his savings chasing Cecilia. He was hoping to put together his earnings for the next 4weeks to at least send something home as promised. His dream wasn’t just shattering before his eyes, but he was back to status quo—waiting with others till they had worked at the factory enough to be rid of Steve's deal, and start receiving their wages. It felt as though he had fallen from grace to grass.

“I could retain you if you don’t mind cleaning the house of dust, cobwebs and every other thing necessary.”

Ore was many distance away from his body.  He heard her faintly, but it felt like he was hallucinating he had to request for a recap.

Mrs. Penelope was still halfway repeating herself when he jumped at the offer with a hearty thank you. He couldn’t even hide his excitement and desperation. He would learn to. But then, it would be too late.

Few days later, at about 3p.m, he was at the living room watching TV with other housemates when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Trying as much as possible not to draw attention, he slipped off to a hidden corner at the back of the house. It was a private line calling. Fatima was the only contact saved on his phone, she wouldn’t hide her identity. Wondering who was calling, he picked and couldn’t believe his ears. It was Cecilia.

Cece?

She was calling to thank him for the flowers and perfume. Fatima said she would, but he wasn’t expecting it.

"Don’t mention. I'm glad you like them.”

Ore wasn’t going to let such rare opportunity slip by. Quickly he added,

“I was hoping the Valentine’s day would be my lucky day, when you would at last be receptive to going on a date with me. Can I still get the pleasure of that? There is this Chinese restaurant I discovered down town. I bet you would like their meals. What do you say?”

“Cece, are you still there?” asked Ore after a long silence.

“I am sorry, Ore,” she responded. “If only you…,” she was saying when the line suddenly went off.

If only I what?

Spontaneously, Ore went for his dial button, then he remembered the caller ID was hidden.

What was she trying to say?

He needed an answer. He needed someone to talk to. He had no other person but Fatima. At a speed dial, he put a call across to her.

“I have no idea. If she were on duty, I could try interacting with her to see if could get something out of her,” said Fatima. “However, from what you said  transpired between you two, all I can deduce is that CeCe is beginning to soften towards you.”

“Really?”

Ore longed to hear that said again.

“of course. For her to have phoned and listened to you to that point, it could be nothing than feelings starting to set in. As it is, I suggest we shouldn’t rush things, let’s give her some time to deal with whatever is on her mind. Yet, we shouldn’t drag it, so we don’t quench the kindled fire even if it’s just a spark. Let’s strategize how to bring the both of you together in a comfortable place where you can freely express yourselves.”

Thereon, Ore and Fatima began spending more time on phone, talking night and day on how to help get one another's heart-throb.

One of those nights, during  break at the factory, Jamani walked into their usual restroom and met Ore on the phone.

“Who are you talking to?” he whispered.

“Fatima. Talk to her,” responded Ore, stretching out his phone.

Jamani left his hand hanging, hissed and walked away.

Could Jamani be jealous I'm talking with Fatima?

That moment, an idea dropped on his mind, rouse Jamani's jealousy and drive it to a point where he would see what he is missing and want to get back with Fatima. He would intensify their communication, phone Fatima at times when Jamani is at close range, make it look as if a relationship more than ordinary is beginning to form between them.

Yes!

He wouldn’t share the thought with Fatima so he doesn’t end up shooting himself in the foot.

Unknowing to him, Fatima had conceived the same idea—phone Ore more often in order to stir Jealousy in Jamani.

============================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.🙏🏻 MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄

THE IRONY OF LIFE (16)😔😔

Duration: 4mins

 The D-Day finally arrived. Back in Agbómábiwón, Valentine's day was like any other day. No one recognized it not to mention celebrated it. Oreoluwa would probably not have known of it if he hadn’t read about it in novels. He was blown by how seriously the day was being celebrated in the States. People painted the streets in their combination of pink, red and white outfits. Every corner he turned were heart-shaped cakes, greeting cards and all kinds of gift items. 

                                                                          He walked into a florist’s shop that Wednesday afternoon and was overwhelmed not only by the countless patrons streaming in and out to no end, but by the million and one bouquets that screamed at him to be picked. He ignored the expensive ones and paid attention to those with giveaway price tags. After looking for a while, he settled for one of $10. Two shops away was a supermarket. He branched in for Daisy, Cecilia’s taste.

                                                  How impressed she would feel.

                                    

He imagined as he got the bottle of perfume wrapped, boarded a taxi to Mame African Cuisine (MAC). That was at the quarter of three. He had never seen the place so occupied. All the tables were taken by couples he was lucky to find a lonely seat at the far end. 

                             

Just then, a black young man in his mid-twenties went on a knee before a beautiful lady of about his age, stretched a small red box revealing a silver ring. Everywhere went 'wow' as the guy got a 'yes', followed by a kiss. 

                                        

Love was in the air, putting Ore in the mood. He drifted in and out of his fantasy, where he and Cecilia switched place with the newly engaged. Looking around, his dream girl was nowhere to be found.

Oh God

Could it be she is not on duty?

What if she took the day off?

                        

Another voice within broke in,

                            

Hey loverboy, didn’t I tell you to quit wasting your time on CeCe? If you had listened to me, your money would be still be safe in your pocket. If at all you have a chance, not today. No date no date lalalala-lala-la

“Some lovely flowers you've got there. I bet she will like them.”

                               

Ore turned to his blind side and there was Fatima. For the first time, he was seeing her join her mother’s service girls in attending to patrons that kept turning in.

                         

 “Thank you.” “where is she?” he added in a whisper.

                                 

“I saw her headed to the ladies a while ago. What will you like to take?”

                            

 “I’m so famished right now I could finish a pot of those,” he responded, gesturing at two plates of ofada rice seated in a tray Fatima was carrying. “Yet I don’t have a space to contain as little as a spoon.”

                                  

“I understand,” said Fatima with a faint smile. “She should be out any time soon. Good luck.”

                          

“Thank you.”

                           

What girl wouldn’t want to be with her man on a day as this?

                                  

In a brief, sorry moment, Ore wished Fatima was also getting something from Jamani.

                             

Just as she said, in less than a minute, CeCe walked in looking as though she stepped out of the cover of Glam & Dazzle magazine, dressed in a red, glittering, sleeveless gown that accentuated her curves, and a complimenting black heels that shot her few inches high. 

                           There was a moment of silence, not for the dead this time around, but for a passing beauty that got heads turning in degrees, and many jaws that had suddenly lost their elasticity, fallen.

                             

“Off I go,” CeCe informed her boss.

                          

 “Enjoy your date. Make sure you resume earlier tomorrow,” responded Mame. “You rock girl!” she added as CeCe took her leave.

                                 

It all felt like a trance in Ore's face as she cat-walked towards a fortyish man in a sleek black suit standing by the entrance. With locked elbows, the two walked out of sight. 

                  

Fatima hastened over.

                         

 “What just happened?” “Oh no, all along while the man was seated over there, I never knew he was waiting for CeCe.” 

                                 

It was as though Fatima was talking to herself. Ore kept a straight face, staring blank into thin air, almost losing grip of the bouquet he held. Fatima noticed an empty table at a nearby corner and suggested they move there. Ore did as was told. Thank goodness she didn’t suggest he walked out and jump before a moving vehicle. 

                          

Fatima left and returned almost immediately, placing four long cups of chilled coffee before him. As though saying, ‘Drink away your sorrow'. 

If she had brought a dozen, it wouldn’t do. He downed the first cup, and was soon staring at the base of the fourth.

                             

“Ore, I never knew things would turn out this way. I am sorry.”

                          

Then, Ore found his voice. 'It's alright' was the best he could let out. His pitiable eyes gazed unblinking at the flowers and gift before him.

                                  

“I have an idea.”

                               

Ore shifted his gaze in Fatima's direction, wondering what hope was left.

                           

“What about I deliver the gifts on your behalf, give her your phone number in the process? Courtesy demands she at least put a call of appreciation through From there, things could pick between you two.”

                                 

Of what use was a bouquet and a feminine perfume to Ore? He could as well dump them in a trash bin on his way home. Without uttering a word, he slid them across the table to Fatima, rose to his feet and left with a slouched back as though he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders.

                            

                              ***

Work at Mrs. Penelope’s place had been all well and good except that she either took Oreoluwa for a eunuch, or a mannequin. The fiftyish woman looking thirty was fond of going about in cropped, skimpy wears that bare her cleavages or just in a see-through robe that left just little to the imagination.

============================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you

THE IRONY OF LIFE (15)😔😔

Duration: 4mins.

"Get me Jamani, and I will get you Cecilia. Deal?"

Fatima was almost not done talking when Ore jumped at the offer. That was not much price to pay to have Cecilia. Getting Jamani to change his mind should be a walkover. 

Knowing Jamani to be a player, he couldn't guarantee he would return to being exclusively Fatima's. But he could at least convince him to play home with Vivian, and away with Fatima. Little did he know he would do more than break a sweat. And still, getting Jamani would be like catching a cloud and pinning it down.

Fatima on the other hand knew what she was offering was a tough one. Cecilia was one of her mother's service girls and no more. They never got along like she made Ore believe. In fact, deep down, she was jealous of Cecilia for being more beautiful, and because she got more attention from the male patrons. But when there is a will, there is way. She swung into action at once, racking her brains.

                               ***

Everyone thought the shoes Monica left behind would be too big for Vivian. As though the latter had been understudying the former and had been longing to try it on for a size, she fitted in perfectly. 

Anytime Vivian needed to do anything masculine, like lifting heavy objects, she called for the help of no one but Jamani. As they worked closely together, they got closer by the day. And by the day, Fatima became more a thing of the past. 

Jamani and Vivian were often seen in corners, in each other's company, gisting and laughing. Jamani was finally getting the chance to sweet-talk her, which was having effect as did a spell. Things hadn't heated up between them, but from all indications, it was bound to be, till Steve abruptly showed his ugly face one morning and ruined Jamani's romantic overtures. 

As though he had been tipped off, Steve wasn't going to leave things to chance like he did with Monica. Like a mother hen, he was bent on keeping an eye on his chic this time around. He frequented the house, showed up when they weren't expecting, slept over at times, and took Vivian out as often as he could afford.

Jamani needed someone whom he could pour out his troubles to, someone who could raise some hopes in him even if it was just a flicker, someone who would tell him Steve was only wasting his time; he would soon get tired or busy with some other activities and stop coming. He could think of no other person than Ore, who happened to be, the wrong person.

Ore wore a straight, let-us-pray face while he listened to Jamani. But deep down, he was rejoicing, thinking of the best way to seize the sorry event to get Fatima back into his life.

"I understand how you feel. However, if you were Steve, I doubt you would want history to repeat itself. The guy is only being vigilant. I won't be surprised if he now has an eye in the house who keeps watch on happenings in his absence. Consider the consequences of being Steve's rival, and keep away from Vivian."

There was a moment's silence. With Jamani's still, lost face, it was hard to decipher what was going on in his mind.

Ore waited some more for his words to sink in deep before breaking the silence.

"Fatima asked of you."

"Who?"

As Ore repeated himself, Jamani's face went from looking as though he was suffering from memory loss, to looking like he just swallowed bile.

"Why bring Fatima up at this time?"

"C'mon man, give the girl the benefit of the doubt. In the true sense, what would she gain from making the video go viral? Even if she was dumb, she couldn't have mistakenly pressed the upload button."

"Whatever. I am done with her. Tell me, what sort of girl tells her mother every nitty-gritty details of moments spent with her man? I can deal with a spoilt, mama's girl no more."

Ore sensed Jamani came up with that only to discredit Fatima, how come he never mentioned it before? He was glad about one thing, even though Jamani didn't sound like it, he was more tolerant of hearing about Fatima unlike the last time he mentioned her. He let the matter rest till another time, hopeful that with more persistence, they will get back together.

                               ***

On a Friday afternoon, on a three-sitter couch where Fatima lounged at the living room, she drifted on and off a novel she was reading, thinking about Cecilia. A good number of ideas had crossed her mind in the last three days. One of which was try to befriend Cecilia. She discarded it as quickly as it came. The friendship they never had since they met two years ago wasn't going to start now. Even if, when could she possibly wield enough influence on Cecilia to get her to date Ore?

On a second thought, the more this stalled, the longer it took to have Jamani back. Besides, she didn't know about Cecilia's love life, what if she was seeing someone?

Fatima was torn in-between her dilemma when an idea suddenly popped up in her head. She reached for her phone, dialed Ore's number right away.

Valentine's Day was a week away, what better occasion to ask Cecilia out than on that? 

The idea settled well with Ore. But when Fatima suggested thrilling her with a bouquet and a bottle of the perfume she uses which both cost $350, the smile that formed on his face earlier faded away.

That would drain his savings to $10.

Whoever said 'love don't cost a thing'? 

With the way things were going, he hoped he wouldn't have to resort to asking Mrs. Penelope for an advance. 

Thereon, Ore counted down to February 14. All along, an inner voice kept resisting, bringing up the money he was going to part with. Each of those times, he countered with the phrase 'things we do for love'

Perhaps if someone had told him he was about seeing love in a different light, he may have reconsidered.

The D-Day finally arrived...

=====================================

To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.🙏🏻