THE UNFORTUNATE MATCHMAKER

 THE UNFORTUNATE MATCHMAKER😔😔

Duration: 5 minutes read.

It’s Lara & Lanre's wedding. Anyone who knew either of this lovely couple in the last 2 years should know for Lara to be getting wedded means I am the groom, and for Lanre to be getting wedded means I am the best man. Here is the story of how I lost my two close friends to one another.

A YEAR AGO

I was in bed by 8 a.m. on a Thursday when a call broke into my sleep. My phone rang severally before I could drag and stretch a hand for it on a nearby stool.  

“Hello, ” I managed to say and was drifting off. 

When the caller turned out to be Lara, my girlfriend, I sat up, my groggy self became wide awake. She had sprung a surprise visit on me, traveled from Ibadan to Lagos and was at the central terminus at Berger calling for me to come get her.

Mogbe!

One hand went for the top of my head and hung there, while the other held the phone to my ear. Lara’s coming over would have been a welcomed idea, but here was my idol coiled up in bed with me. Whenever Silvia passed the night like that, she stayed till noon. She wasn't the type of girl I could hurry out of my one-room apartment. It was a rare privilege to have her under my roof. Before she set to leave, she took her time to have her bath, apply makeup and arrange her luxuriant hair, ordered for her special diet from a Chinese restaurant few distance away that help keep her beautiful, delicate body in shape.

What sort of fix is this?

I was lost for what to do while Lara expressed she couldn’t wait to see me. In-between, I said,

“Lara, your voice is breaking. Let me call you back.”

With the time bought, I swung into racking my brain for a way out. 

Should I tell her I have traveled?

But we were on phone yesterday sharing current happenings in each other’s life and our movements.

What if I told her to find any hotel close to her, lodge in and I will join her later?

How reasonable?

  

I was still in my directionless state when Lara was calling again. As I was about answering the call, Lanre came to mind. Lanre lived a bus or two bikes distance from where Lara was.

Yes!

I gave Lara Lanre's house address, told her I was in a meeting and would join her as soon as it was over.

                     

                               ***

Lanre and I met at the NYSC orientation camp in Lagos, and since then we became close. He was posted from Osun, and I; from Oyo. After service year, we decided to stay back and work in one of the big companies, the foreign establishments preferably, we told one another as though ready jobs were in these places waiting for us. We went almost a year job-hunting. What kept disqualifying us was our lack of working experience. If only the ones we gathered from the carwash along side other hustles could suffice. 

One of those days, an opportunity that would do more harm than good came our way. Final year students of International Relations, University of Lagos were writing their project. Some of them were contracting it out. Lanre and I were able to convince a couple of them we would get the job done. The lady whose project I did was impressed with it. She gave my phone contact to some others. Few days later, I was in my room that afternoon taking a break from the day's hustle when a strange number, a feminine voice with polished English intonation called for my service. She asked me to meet her in front of the campus’ gate in an hour’s time. The prospect of another ₦50,000 as gotten from the last job got me fired up. I wore my shirt and hit the road. By five minutes to the fixed time, I was standing by the front of campus' gate. After twenty minutes of waiting, I fetched my phone and dialed the last caller. She said she was around the corner and asked me to describe what I was wearing. A posh wine jeep soon pulled over by my side. Its tinted glass slid down. Behind the wheel was a fair lady in sunglasses. 

“Hop in.”

Recognizing the voice I heard earlier over the phone, I obliged.

“I am Silvia.”

“Jimmie.”

That was all we could exchange before she pulled to a stop by the side of the main road within the campus where she could park.

Silvia was dressed in a sleeveless, tight gown that stopped midway down her thighs. As she gave details of the project, I couldn’t help but notice her skin like ripe, spotless mango.

This must be one of the campus big girl.

Even though I rendered the service for her friend at ₦50,000, I made hers double. After all, everything in the market have gone up, research work shouldn't be left out. Haggling shouldn't cut down the cost below ₦70,000. I was surprised when she agreed to it as soon as it fell off my mouth. I wished I had made it higher. Right there, she transferred 60% of it to my bank account.

After I had long delivered Silvia's  work, one morning, I was preparing to set out for the day's hustle when I heard a knock at the door.  I opened and saw a delivery man who asked me to sign for a cake, bottle of champagne and perfume, a pair of Ralph Lauren T-shirts and Jeans.

But for Silvia, I wouldn’t have remembered it was my birthday.

A poor man has few friends.

Perhaps the few, later while scrolling on their walls for newsfeed may stumble on Facebook’s reminder and be gracious enough to spare half a minute for wishes. 

The gifts must have cost a fortune.

How did she know it’s my birthday, where I live?

On the couch where I sat staring at the gifts on the stool before me, wondering if to use or sell, I drifted into a world of fantasy where I saw myself dating Silvia.

Is this some sort of green light or what?

Jimmie, not in your wildest dreams. Snap out of it already. The Babe is way out of your league.

I phoned and thanked her for the kind gesture.

I later got employed at a high school to teach mathematics in all the classes at the Junior level for a salary of ₦60,000. It was one of these private establishments that made sure to drain your sweat and blood for every kobo you earn.

After two weeks of working there, I didn’t need anyone to tell me I had grown lean. Having to take my belt to the cobbler to puncture an extra hole said it all.

Towards noon one Saturday, I lounged on the couch meditating when a knock broke in. Being used to fellow neighbors in the face-me-I-face-you building who often dropped by for a cube of maggi, teaspoon of salt, a stick of matches, or Jehovah ‘s Witnesses who came over to try harvest my soul for the kingdom, I forgot to ask who was behind the door.

On opening, lo and behold, standing before me was Silvia in a brown knee-length skirt & a cream tailored shirt unbuttoned three steps down, revealing some cleavages. 

“Hello, Jimmie,”

Suddenly, my CPU was dragging it took forever to register my name.

It was a month of no communication since my birthday. From my countenance, she must have read ‘what are you doing here?’

“I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to stop by for a visit.”

That didn’t make sense to me. All I had on was a three-quarter short. I noticed as her eyes transverse my face down my 6-pack where she stood transfixed in a moment and returned.

“Can I come in?”

I still hadn’t found my voice. I stepped aside and Silvia walked in, took the single couch. At a glance, she took in everything within the room.  She didn’t flatter like many would have…

The first thing I did as I came in after her was reach for a singlet and wear. There was power outage. I gesticulated frantically as I went from one end to another pulling the curtains apart to let in more ventilation and illumination, before I took the edge of the bed across her. Silvia's glowing beauty made the ugliness of my abode more conspicuous.

Boy was staring at girl, girl was staring back.

But Jimmie, you are never like this with girls. Break the ice dumb-head, start up a conversation.

“What should I offer you?” 

My words almost came out in stutters.

I wished she would turn down the offer as I wasn't sure I had enough on me to give her a treat. At the same time, requesting a light refreshment would have meant some minutes escape from her presence.

“Never mind. I have had something before coming. Besides, I don’t eat in-between meals.”

I latched on to that, struck a conversion.

“Wish you came fasting. I would have cooked you a sweet delicacy to your taste.”

That elicited a soft smile that complimented her beauty.

“My taste?”

“Yes.” 

“I took Vegetarian Arepas with Avocado and plantains before coming.”

My mouth made an ‘O’ shape.

“What is that?”

She went into telling me how the foreign meal is prepared. From there, we further got acquainted with one another.

The conversation was a flow. I was gradually getting my groove back. 

Silvia was the only daughter and last born of a business tycoon who was into oil exploration. She said I struck her as an industrious young man and promised to speak to her father to get me a job.

For real?

Though seated, my head hit the roof as I leapt into the air in excited. 

“You are handsome,” she further said.

“Thank you.”

I complimented her good looks in return. At that, she stood and walked over to the exit without saying a word.

Is she leaving?

Did I say anything wrong?

As I stood to follow, I saw her bolt my door and returned. She still wasn’t talking. A slight push at my chest sent me crashing. 

"What are you doing?" 

I was going to ask the silly question when I felt her long nail manicured forefinger over my lips.

Amidst the silence, P-Square’s music came playing in my ears,

This na temptation with a little confusion oh Lord 🎶 🎶