“Weyrey, olori buruku oshi” I said aloud as I found out that the bastard had deleted me off his BBM. “Hope all is well,” one of the waiters asked in Yoruba. Without uttering a word, I picked up my bag and left. “Before the idiot spoils my day, make I find something do,” I thought to myself, putting my earphone to activate my other brain, the one that does not think at all. The rest of the week seemed really fast and boring as lectures were gradually commencing.
To get the thoughts of Segun who is easier referred to as the bastard off my mind, I decided to cook, yes, cooking is to me as shopping is to most babes, very therapeutic to me, marry me now abi?
“Tope, Tiwa, Tolani” I heard from behind me, on my way to class the following Monday. I turned to see who it was.
“You don’t remember me” he said walking up to me, pausing to let me think.
“Ridwan, the guy you met with Liz at the market on Saturday. Oh, Liz had introduced me to him but I was too busy calculating in my head to give him a thought.
“Oh, don’t mind me jare, memory full” I replied pointing to my head. “The name is Tolani anyways” I continued. We talked as we walked to class parting blocs to my department.
“hey, Tolani, never thought I’d run into you today o” Ridwan said feigning surprise
“Oh” I replied but in my mind, I was like “Oh if I slap you ehn, who do you think you are deceiving?” I had seen him pacing on the corridor of my department floor in the middle of Dr Awho’s class. So he had been waiting for me”. He escorted me to my hostel before he turned back. Over the next few days, he became very stalk-ish bumping into me from every corner, every other time.
“So are you going to your hostel?” He asked. “No, I’m going to the library” I retorted. Sharp babe like me, he would not follow me there.
Astonishingly, he followed me o saying he had planned to go too.
“Omo, dem don tush up this library o” I said aloud as the guilt of my parents telling me to be a regular library student and not setting foot there in over a session filled my mind. I shrugged it off, picked a random book and sat in a quite crowded place just to discharge him. At least that worked but not for long, about half an hour later, he came to tell me he was leaving then he asked for my phone number. Wait! With all the eyes, it would inhumane to refuse to and I don’t want popularity as the ugly girl forming. The thought of giving him a wrong number came to my mind but since he would still “bump” into me, I gave him the right one and he left immediately.
While I was busy racking my brain on how to finish my assignment, Beyonce’s I was here, my ringtone, I picked and guess who it was, you guessed right, Ridwan asking me if I had gotten to my hostel, like we just got some some. I saved his number and made a mental note not to pick his call again but he kept calling, leaving a message after over ten calls within 2-3days. And the ‘bumping into me’ didn’t stop. He was stalking me.
Truth is I don’t even like the guy, he is not even close to the type I like, I am taller than he is, plus he is skinny too like Kcee(Limpopo)’s trousers, he is not fine and not ugly, he is just there sha. The direct opposite of the tall, fair and handsome with Praiz-like beards, smile like John Legend (with no tattoos ooo). Don’t mind me with all my specifications but if you are anything like that you can drop your twitter handle, I’d mention you after I check the avi nii ooo.
One fateful day like they say in secondary school essays, he called me and told me he wanted to see me (in plain terms). In this school, if a guy tells you in plain terms ‘I want to see you for something important’, it’s either to ask the girl out or preach the word. If it is for the former, it’s a Capital NO but if it is for the latter, God forgive me; he go try, God forgive me again *kneels down*. I kept forming busy but he just wanted to see me at all cost.
Finally, after “bumping into me”for the umpteenth time on one hot afternoon, he sat me down on one of those ever-dirty seat under the tree just outside my faculty. “Thank you for coming with me here, I really appreciate it” he started. He digressed, talking about his course, how he has to write a term paper and all other things that did not sink. All I could think of was leaving that place then he muttered, “It is basically about history and culture degradation in south-west Nigeria, using Egba, Oshogbo, Ibadan or ethnic group as a case study so I thought you wouldn’t mind being photographed for me?”
I did not get it at first so there was about a few seconds of silence before it rang in my brain like a catholic mass bell. He wanted me to take pictures of my face so he could put it in some Ibadan woman from 1940 to present chart. I bolted out the seat and stormed away but not without giving him a piece of my mind. “So you have been stalking me since so I can be your guinea pig. Ah what nonsense, Christ, What are you?” I shouted not minding the people who were focused on me already. “God why? Is it my fault?” I thought to myself as I sank into the seat of the cab taking me out of campus. I needed a break from all of this madness.
As if Bola knew, she hugged me as soon as I showed at her doorstep; the tears that had filled my soul came running straight through my eyes immediately. Amazed, “what happened Tolani” Bola asked. Amidst sobs, I relayed the whole situation; she simply brought a bottle of Baileys that we drank from until I fell asleep.
“Did you say Liz introduced you to the idiot?” Bola asked as I was trying to rinse my face the next morning. I mumbled a yes trying to rinse my mouth too. She called Liz, I just stabbed classes since my eyes had gone sore and by evening, Liz came around, I explained the whole dilemma over again. She explained to us that she did not know him like that much and that they just got talking about ‘keeping up with the Kardashians’ show. She recommended going to shout and warn him, the idea was brushed off as soon as the evil genius Bola came up with an idea. The rest of the night was quite fun has PHCN decided to help us watch some set of films over juice. It was all girls lazing around.
The next Monday, after scrolling through my mentions, DMS and pings, I called him
Ridwan: hey, morning, I’m very sorry for…………..
ME: Don’t worry, I took it wrong, if I am not proud of myself then who will be proud of me?
Ridwan: Maybe it was the way I put it
ME: (cut in again) so when is your term paper due?
Ridwan: Next week Tuesday
ME: so when do we meet for the pictures. Should I take pictures from my phone or should we use a photographer.
Ridwan: Friday, if you don’t mind, the photographer would be better so I can get a vantage view.
ME: Ok till then, Bye.
P.S: I am a writer although I might not be able to tell my story adeptly but I can do that completely and truthfully.