The Best 24 Hours of my life

Let me tell you about the best 24 hours of my life. It was the day I met you. I’d decided to marry you that day, six full months before I finally did propose.
I was initially reluctant when Uche, my brother asked me to turn up that Friday night, and I almost didn’t go. The week had been long. Running startups is hell.

The Bank is my favorite Abuja club, so of course we drove to Amino Kano, on Wuse II, sat down at the Pre-club spot, aptly named ATM, ordered my customary starter – a chilled bottle of Star. I opened my Nook reader and, forsaking the Ngugi I’d just copped, I opened the lighter Jack Reacher, It was a Friday night after all. Jack’s always the Man on Friday nights.

Mild commotion directly behind me. Four girls took up the table before ours. I didn’t care initially, until you loudly ordered for the coldest bottle of Star they had in stock, to the laughter of your friends who had all ordered cocktails. I turned. The lift of your eyebrows at me confirmed you were the beer drinker. My smile was tiny, but I hoped my approval showed.

It did. You walked up to my table. A five-eleven, hourglass-figure apparition, with eyes that seemed to have a permanent box of laughter and mischief parked inside it’s garage. You’d seen my Barnes and Noble Nook, you said. You wanted to know what I was reading. To test you, I said, ‘Lee Child’. Your Immediate response of ‘Jack Reacher, Which one?’ Intrigued me. We talked books.

Of course, the mischievous Uche suggested we merge tables. We do, and I immediately start having fun. We share a final bottle of their coldest Star. Of course you cheated me, a gentleman, I let you drink more.

My premonitions begin when we get into the club and I ask what you’d like to drink. You reply. ‘Jack’s the Man’. We obviously share a love for Captain Jack Daniels. We dance, crazily, closely. You’re the Ginger Rogers to my Fred Astaire.
We are having fun. So much fun, your friends snicker when we danced gangnam style like we’d rehearsed it.
When your Tipsy colleague asked if your cobwebs might finally get some cleaning tonight, I pretended not to listen. Didn’t want to hope too much.

Tentatively however, I tell you I don’t want the night to end yet,
You then ask me, eyes dancing with laughter,
‘How good are you at FIFA?’
I say, ‘very’.
‘Come over to mine for the rest of the night,’ you say. ‘But I won’t put out.’
I didn’t mind one bit. I’m game.
I hand my keys over to Uche and tell him to get home. You throw me yours, saying ‘I call shot gun.’ I don’t mind. I like to drive. You’re ticking boxes I didn’t even know I had, left, right and center. Even when you say ‘Don’t touch the radio, its mine’ I smile, It was déjà vu. I’d said it countless times to my friends. But you make good. The first song you play is Little Big Town’s Sober. We sing along.

The drive to Lugbe seems very short. For once, I did not complain about the streetlights that were off on Airport Road.
I don’t remember much else about the drive. I do however remember not feeling weird at all about you having Men’s clothes ready for me to wear at home. Tongue in cheek, I offer to share a shower. With those damn eyes twinkling with laughter, you say, ‘I won’t put out remember?’ Kicking me to the visitors bathroom. Afterwards, I sit at the PS4 console in the living room waiting for you.

You come out smelling of Jasmine so faintly, I almost put out my tongue to taste it. I’ve always loved its ability to soothe and I knew I would definitely enjoy cuddling with you. I was so distracted by the scent and the not so modest tank top that I almost lose at FIFA. Laughing (again that damn musical sound) you tell me start up managers have  more time on their hands than doctors. I call you a sore loser.

My upteenth surprise, I arrange the couch to sleep, I was already happy enough with my night so far.
You re-enter from the bedroom and say, ‘I lied, I will put out.’
I grin with anticipation. And for good reason. Damn you were good. Your head game, dope. Remember that time you said, ‘Look Papi, No hands’? You near triggered an explosion right there.

You woke me up after dawn with a nickname –
‘Hey, Tonguey McTongueyson, Breakfast in Bed?’ I smile at the compliment and say Yes. ‘Then you’re cooking’ you said.’You like to cook remember?’ I laugh. I did cook.

After breakfast, I set up your new Kindle since you had refused to. ‘Nerds like you should do nerdy Stuff,’ you said. I introduced you to the ebook world. When we lay silently together for two hours, you in the crook of my arm, and me ignoring the cricks, both of us reading books, I knew I was lost.

So I ran. Mumbled about work, demands of running two different startups, teething problems I say. I planned to not see you for another two weeks at least, or at least that was what I had in mind before i found myself back at your place that same night, mumbling something about being in the area.
But I knew, I knew right then I was gonna marry you.

The best 24 hours of my life. It hasn’t happened yet, but I hope it’ll happen exactly this way when I meet you.

Which is when?
Where the hell are you?

What's in a Name

Oh, Just Recently, my name ended in 'Matters' 

Not surprising, The U.S Civil rights was in tatters. 

Wasn't the first time though. My monikers often are varied 

I've been Bland, I've been Bama, whichever motion was carried. 

I was born of a script, initially coded to birth a Trend, 

Never knew I was to become a Unifier upon whom causes depend. 

My name is myriad, it evolves, my only constant is a symbol 

Apt, I represent a canvas upon which reactions gambol 

Keyboard Warriors consist my most common Conceptors 

Impressionable Millennials, my most common receptors. 

My name changes can befuddle an observer. I am Agatu today, 

Tomorrow, I'm a herdsman. Aggressor tomorrow, Victim today. 

With surprising clarity, therein lies not my confusion. 

Neither is my short life span the reason for my disorientation 

Nor is it in the ease with which my new names are chosen, 

For I'm as useful as the middle ranked witch in a coven. 

But, Have you ever been trapped in a futile circle of purpose? 

Only if you're a Vice-President or a social worker, I suppose. 

Then why must I end at my name? Why must my skin be shed? 

Constantly being  forgotten and replaced by another trend? 

I suppose some could call me a rallying cry for many an Issue. 

But I know better, I assuage consciences. I'm a feminist's tissue. 

Be calm, I know, I will introduce myself. Don't be a nag. 

You know who I am. I'm your latest fad. I am a HASHTAG.

The Traitor named Hindsight

Dear Sir, 

I am writing to tell you that I have learnt my lesson. Really, I have. I am sorry. I am even sorrier that I didn't learn earlier. It's all the fault of Mr. Hindsight. Yes, Hindsight, that annoying Mr. Right. He's a traitorous bastard. I have now discovered a lot of lessons he should have taught me that he didn’t, until it had become too late. 

Sir, Hindsight is not a Christian. If he was, he'd have known that one does not ask questions during indoctrination. One only takes what one is told, hook, line and sinker. I should not have asked you all those searching questions during my training and induction. What did I need the information for? Did I want to do the job better than you? Foolish Hindsight. He should have stopped me then. Just look at foolish, naïve me. Asking Smart questions you had no answers to, was your son not seated there? Did he ask any? I was a foolish boy sir. Was I supposed to be smarter than your son? I have learnt that lesson now. Hindsight just told me. The fool. 

Who gave me the right to win Rookie of the year award? That coveted accolade that only went to the superstars who clocked outstanding figures and performed in exemplary fashion, an award you never dreamt of winning, even after spending over five years at entry level. I now went to win it. My foolishness is probably from the village, sir. I'm sure Hindsight was collaborating with the old women in my village. That's the only explanation, otherwise I would not have worked hard enough to do so well and show you up. Hindsight should have told me that the corporate world in Nigeria is like those Chinese martial arts movies I watched as a kid. You can never be better than your master. I have also learnt this one now sir. 

Sir, Hindsight will not go to heaven. Where was he when I was preparing that well publicized brief that was so good, it redefined our way of working, when you were on vacation? Why did he not advise me against preparing and executing such a flawless sales strategy? He should have advised me against doing so well, I would impress the visitors from the global office during that employee fair. I should have known that I was stressing you by forcing you to smile and extol my virtues to top management when in actual fact you were not happy about it. Imagine making you smile reluctantly. Was I planning to induce constipation and add to your already well documented list of ailments that made you leave the office almost everyday around lunch, and hand over responsibilities to me? Don't mind me sir. I have learnt from that foolishness. But only God will judge Hindsight. 

Oga, see, about that beautiful corper in the office last year, that was attracted to me, sorry. Na Hindsight fuck up. The foolish man. Why didn't he tell her to ignore your marital status, Children and humongous beer gut? Why did she go and like me sef? And so what if I was a clean, handsome, smart young man with excellent potential? Because I was unmarried? And so? Who eligible bachelor epp? Hindsight should have told her that it takes work staying married, being a father, and having to remember all those mundane vows and responsibilities, hence you deserve the refreshing affections of beautiful young females whether in the workplace or no. Oga sorry. I should have curved her. What does a young man need love and happiness for? Hindsight should have told me its only a prerogative of older men who have seen a lot of unpleasant things in life, like school fees and sleeping next to the warmth of a wife almost everyday of their lives. It's his fault, along with his friend, Youthful, whose surname is exuberance. 

Sir, I know Hindsight is not my friend. If he is, why did he not warn me not to issue a query to Omolola, that new female staff with the big Ikebe? If she came late to work five times in a row nko? Who cares if she did not complete any of the tasks I delegated to her even after doing half of them for her? Why did my so called friend, Hindsight not tell me that a lady like her needs extra hours every morning to do her squats so her Ikebe would remain attractive to you? I can be very foolish ehn, I shouldn’t have asked her why she came in from lunch 30 mins late. Didn't I know that lunch with you is like having a presidential lunch? Sorry sir. Remember what I said about my village people. It's Hindsight and those old women at work.

Hindsight came to my house today sir. He told me that I shouldn't have performed very well when I was sent to relieve that Regional Manager in Uyo. I now foolishly went to break sales records upandan, surpassing even your own. He should have told me you wouldn’t like it even though it was not your region. Me sef, I can overdo. Must I be great? But you see why I am not happy with Hindsight? Its his fault. He did not accompany me to Uyo. 

I quarreled with him today sir when he told me I was not a good employee. He said If I was, I would have carried your bag everyday, made your coffee even though you had a secretary, I should have given you credit for all the innovations I brought in. I could have kissed your ass in different ways, while acting like it tasted like Skyy's Passion Fruit flavoured Vodka. I agree that I should have done all these. After all, that’s what you told Julie, that new Corper you took out to lunch yesterday. But you see why I blame Hindsight? If he had told me all of these, I would have been a model employee, instead of an asset to the business. Who needs assets these days sef? At least If I had been good, you would not have put my name up for retrenchment when the company asked for redundant staff to downsize. Imagine the stress I gave you, making you lose your most talented subordinate. Who will now do that mountain of work you assist my life with by dumping for me to do? I have learnt sir. I will do better where next I work. 

P.S I have told Hindsight not to come to my house again, except with his twin cousins, Forewarned and Forearmed. 

Yours Forever and Ever, 

Now humble ex-Employee 

I wished for a Happy ending

In the Beginning, I met you, albeit reluctantly. 

Dislike – My first feeling. You're privileged, was my perception. 

I'm Street, I say, Never met privilege I didn't bully. 

Surprise, You were steel, encased in flighty velvet, was my realization 

Quickly, I liked. Very much. My re-orientation, very rapid. 

Who would want to bully that? I am definitely not rabid. 

My bleak cynical curtain of Loneliness, in the face of love's brightness, began to part, 

Hope was at last shining through it. Alas, my heart wasn't after all, an Icebox. 

My renowned empire of cynicism fell apart faster than the North under the Starks. 

Jade used to be my Moniker because previously, I disengaged faster than detox. 

The depth of feeling this time would put paid to that, I felt. 

Mush was creeping in on me, like Curry, just before shooting threes, 

Telling me, it's time to let go and really feel, or so I felt. 

It looked like time to man up, to let go of the meaningless freebies. 

And so, I felt. I opened up. I loved. I mean, What was there to not love? 

The witty conversations, becoming my movie buddy, the epic Friday nights, 

The silly things began to matter. Misgivings over Val's day began to devolve. 

The camaraderie I felt when you chugged down your first cold glass that night, 

Sharing a beer took on a whole different meaning. Now I was home. 

Like Lebron, I might finally be winning a championship in my home. 

I was giddy. Expressively, 'tell-everybody' giddy. 

The feeling was unfamiliar. Happiness filled my heart to bursting. 

See this happiness ehn, its sneaky. It trickily glossed over everything, 

Selling me a building with a structure so dodgy. 

Much Like the Trojans, I refused to look my gift horse in the mouth, 

Disregarded the psychological incompatibility. What was it worth? 

Ignored the apparent sexual imbalance even though it was innocence versus experience. 

Until the inevitable doubts surfaced. Intellectual lack of parity made felt its presence. 

And while my excitement dimmed, your contentment increased. 

The little things became big burdens to execute, or so I deduced. 

Your fully bloomed joy became sticky vines round my neck, choking me. 

While my disengagement took root, your confusion was germinating. 

'How can you not love anymore? Our compatibility seems so true. 

I don’t want this to happen. I wouldn’t know what else to do. 

Why would you want to leave when it feels so good to tarry? 

Or has staying in love become too big a burden for you to carry?' 

My lady, I am but helpless. We saw forever, but Fate saw temporary. 

Thought it wouldn't happen, but She can be finicky about a prophecy. 

How did the feeling exit me so fast? Perhaps I'm jaded and Nature is right. 

If so, If my name is indeed Jade, the future really doesn’t look so bright. 

So, 'What next now?' You ask. 'What are we to do?' 

It's the end, my friend, I loved you, but I'm leaving you.