This all started last month; one minute I was studying for my further mathematics test and the next I was teleported into her world. My mornings usually start in a rush because I often wake up late. I rush and stumble through my routine like a deranged driver in Lagos traffic, but that fateful morning I had too much time. The further mathematics teacher was going to give us the mother of all tests, with a twist – anyone who scored less than average would be canned. That man isn’t one to make empty threats and he’s one of the few teachers with the ability to render your buttocks numb for the whole day. So here I was at 5:30am, after two hours of studying like a possessed geek, I stood up to stretch my legs and just outside my window was the best thing to happen to me in months… nay, years.
Ours is the grandest and most beautiful house on the street, a duplex which housed three sitting rooms and five bedrooms, each with its separate bathroom, and a gym. The gentrification drive of the government had not caught up with this part of town making me some sort of Richie-Rich in the neighbourhood. Everything I did was different, for example, while most of the kids on the street walk to the nearby Government Secondary School, my driver takes me to school in the mornings in a black Toyota Camry. I had an habit of staring out of the window at the other kids as they walked by, without actually seeing them. They all looked the same to me, the boys in their white tops and shorts and the girls in their pinafores, none of them required a second look… boy, how wrong I was…
I put the blame on those pinafores because that morning, right outside my window was one of those ‘faceless’ girls – Modupe (I know her name now), taking her bath in the courtyard that doubled as their bathroom. I stood motionless as I admired in her what I had been praying to God for ages to give my girlfriend. Kike is a cool girl, smart and witty as hell but she has breasts the size of an Agbalumo and they hardly fill my hands when we make out, but here was someone her age (I suppose) with breasts I could die for. I watched in awe as she finished the morning ritual, a scene that was played on a loop by my mind throughout the day. I got canned after the test but if that was the price to pay for my discovery, it was more than worth it.
You see, during the last holidays my mum had stopped my internet subscription after she walked in on Cathleen in all her glory. That act ended a relationship I had nurtured for about six months, so trust me, I needed Yetunde. I think it’s appropriate to say I never looked at those pinafores the same way again.
Now, every morning I wake up at 5:00am, because I can’t leave anything to chance, position my chair beside the window, switch off the lights, lock the door, grab a bottle of bathing oil and wait for Yetunde to work her magic.
This morning was the same, I’d gone through my preparations with practiced accuracy and like clockwork she was present at 5:30 sharp. I rolled down my boxers and was about to start the business of the day when… Wham! I felt a sharp pain on the back of my neck – this must be a dream. I craned my neck upwards and staring down at me was my mom with her most menacing look – it was the same look she had when she discovered Cathleen.