PREVIOUS EPISODE

 

                                                 TO CONTINUE LOVING.

 

The vibration under my pillow had woken me up.

 

Kini gbogbo rubbish yi?

 

Who would have the guts not to allow me to sleep properly after all I’ve been through in the past few weeks, I fumed.

 

Before I could make up my mind on whether to pick the call or not, it had ended. I happily closed my eyes and continued to drift in blissful contentment. I seriously missed my bed. This was a moment of reunion and I would have no one interrupt it.

 

The call came in again, the vibration hitting my senses, through the pillow, like a pestle.

 

I glanced over at my wall clock. It was just 2:15am. My village people don find me reach Lagos?

 

I reluctantly put my hand under the pillow and grasped the still vibrating phone. I peered at it.

 

It was Franco. He was very lucky it was he who called. I had planned to block whoever it was after giving him or her stern warning never to call my line.

 

“Hello dear”. I spoke into the phone drowsily, so he’d think I was asleep.

 

“Good morning, my Tshez. I am sorry to interrupt your sleep”, he said, his voice ringing. “A thought just came into my mind while I was reading”.

 

“Try dey sleep, this pikin. You nor be winch”, I teased. “Spill”.

 

“I thought we…you and I…”

 

I already knew the content of his heart even as he was still stuttering.

 

He paused before hurriedly saying “…Could go on a date in celebration of your triumph and Freedom”.

 

Eyan Nelson Mandela. I wish he’d just go straight to the point. Asking to bang me. What if I asked him instead? No o. That would make me look desperate.

 

“Are you there?”, I heard him ask.

 

“Oh, yes, I said yes just now. Weren’t you listening?”, I lied. “2:30. Your place.”

 

Na so I take use my mouth set time for date wey I nor plan for. I’d chosen his place so things could go south and we’ll end up in bed. What’s a date if we can’t taste ourselves? I knew he would outdo himself in trying to please me.

 

                                                                                   ***

 

“The other day you said love’s path was unsmooth. Shebi e never still smooth?”, she queried. “Nor worry, government go soon grade road reach there and by that time, na your dead body go remain”. She hissed.

 

Bella had flared up after she overheard my conversation on phone with Tornado. He called by 1:33 this afternoon saying he was at an undisclosed location in Epe and was bleeding seriously after being shot at by the police in a frantic attempt to escape. He pleaded with me to come be by his side as there was no one else he could call. I quickly agreed and began preparing to race to Epe from my flat in Ikotun before Bella apprehended me.

 

Wahala nor too much? Why couldn’t everyone understand that I love him?

 

“Bella, I love him. I just can’t abandon him at his point of need”.

 

“The way he just abandoned you to rot in prison for his crime. If Franco had not come to your aid, you’d probably be in Kirikiri by now, chilling for 21 years and getting gangraped by men older than your grandparents “.

 

As she mentioned his name, I remembered that I’d set a date with him and totally forgot about it in my haste to rescue Tornado. I can even remember the lengthy lecture I had given myself about letting go of my old ways and opening my heart up to a fresh start. It was a much-needed fresh start.

 

Sitting here in my green joggers and matching hoodie, I took one knowing look at her and changed my mind.

 

 

 

***

 

3:10 PM

 

I want him to take his time, no rush. The evening is still long and it is ours to share. I won’t deny that I wish he would arrive earlier. I haven’t called him as that would seem too desperate and impatient

 

He is going to be here any moment from now, I told myself as I went over everything for the umpteenth time, making sure nothing was amiss. I am beginning to doubt if he’d even like the shade of pink tablecloth I’d chosen. I know his favorite colors are black and pink. Black wouldn’t be an option for tablecloths and I don’t know what shade of pink he prefers. What if the chicken isn’t well marinated? I am sure I used the right spices but I didn’t measure the fluids I used to mix them. Probability says, one morsel of the meat equals an annoyed Tshezi picking up his bag and going home. No. I won’t allow things to happen that way. I will apologize immediately and offer to boil him noodles. I will pamper him and shower him with sweet words. I’ve even added a hot bath and an erotic massage with scented oils to my list of surprises.

 

My outfit is simple but smart. I had to restrain myself from spending on a lavish outfit to impress him. Although, I had obstinately spent a fortune on a bouquet of roses and candles. With all this, it is still an ordinary dinner between two friends. I was lying to myself to calm my racing heart.

 

I should add a touch of black to this table so as to capture both his favorite colors in the wonderful moment that is to come. I sighed as I got to work.

 

 

 

                                                                                    ***

 

I lit my cigar, sitting naked in my favorite leather armchair, as the 6 o’clock sun weakly seeped in through the window. It was another awesome smackdown session with Tshezi. After our discussion and our first go at my office, I was terribly smitten by his tales of woe and unrequited love. I’ve begun to feel a sense of protection towards him. To keep him safe and make sure he was left unscathed from whatever was planning to eat him next. I wanted him to be mine. I needed him, in fact.

 

I turned my neck to look at him as he slept. He looked so young, so innocent, so… small and defenseless. I fear that many more tragedies await him ahead. How would he cope? Who would he turn to at that point for moral guidance and advice? What if he needed financial assistance? No friend would be willing to spare him a huge sum. I have considered all these and it has made me realize that they were small prices to pay in return for having him.

 

To crown it all, sex with him is so amazing. At 21, he has learnt diverse patterns and methods of pleasuring a man. With those little hands, he can entrap a giant. Me. From the way he contracts his anal muscles when I push into him to how he moans my name and cradles my head when I suck his nipples to how wet and drippy his hole becomes when he begins to feel my strokes… Everything was simply perfect. I am sure he has a soft spot for me too. I see adoration in his eyes whenever he is on his knees, swallowing my meat. The way he takes his time to get my erection to full mast before making eye contact with me, isn’t that another pointer. I should just pop the golden question and not assume anything.

 

                                                     

 

                                                                                       ***

 

That old dog.

 

That vagabond in a rich man’s clothes.

 

The nerve. The audacity. The temerity.

 

Over familiarity, they said, breeds contempt.

 

I was now sitting in a taxi, heading to Franco’s, fuming.

 

How would he suggest I date him? That man is almost 3 times my age. What did he have that I couldn’t provide for myself? He looked at me and decided that I was so cheap and classless and his offer to date me would be my saving grace?

 

Ki le leyi?

 

What’s that? Ṣe o sonu?

 

Young men… Better Young men and big boys were fighting and killing themselves to date me, you carry yourself from God-knows-where and enter the group chat. With what? A relationship that will lead to marriage? Back to sender. This is a good definition of ‘give them a finger and they will carry the whole hand, give them a spoon and they will request for the whole pot.’ Because I allowed him a little taste, he wanted the whole cuisine.

 

Irọ́ o. You miss road.

 

I was blocking his number when Franco’s call came through…again.

 

I hurriedly picked it up. “My love, Bella was unwell and I had to monitor for a while to be sure she’d be okay while I am away”, I lied. Lying has become so easy these days. “I am on my way already”. He mumbled some words of endearment before hanging up.

 

The ride continued, safely away from one part of town to another. I was slightly dosing when another call came through. It was Joseph. We have been corresponding frequently these days.

 

Maybe it was another one of those ‘I-just-say-make-I-greet-you’ calls. I rolled my eyes before picking.

 

“Hey there, Sugar”, I heard his crisp voice through the phone.

 

                                                                                               ***

 

No, he wasn’t bailing on me.

 

It was her health condition that had delayed him.

 

 But why am I reluctant to call Bella and wish her a safe recovery? Am I afraid to blow his cover and have my heart broken into a thousand pieces? Is the fear of disappointment causing me to swallow his flimsy lie? The time now was almost 8. How did 2:30 become 7:34 yet he is still not here? The sumptuous meal I had prepared was already cold and I had lost my appetite in the hours of waiting. If he didn’t show up, everything would be wasted.

 

I had called him by 2 this morning on purpose. I wanted to grab his attention before anyone else did. To stand out as a priority as he listed his activities for the day. Why did he pick the time and place if he didn’t want to come?

 

“God”, I muttered looking towards the ceiling as tears pooled in my eyes,” Just this once. Only this”.

 

                                                                                            ***                               

 

15 minutes later.

 

“Driver, please turn around. I have something of immediate importance to deal with. I’ll give you the address once we are out of town”, I said.

 

Franco has waited 5 years for me, if not more than that. One more day wouldn’t kill him. I need time to consider things before jumping in.

 

I switched off my phone and began adjusting my clothes and rearranging my accessories. I was finally meeting Samuel, Joseph’s 28 year old gay son. His father must have told me about him and my ordeal.

 

Joseph had stated I arrived a few minutes after 8. The time now is 7:49 PM.

 

“Oga, please drive faster. I am already late”, I said sourly. I would not want to miss my chance of a new beginning with this guy.

 

I sat back and relaxed as the vehicle tore through the night.

 

 

 

                                                                                          ***

 

Unrequited love is love that is not openly reciprocated or understood as such by the beloved. It is a one-sided experience that can cause pain, grief and shame.

 

This is 10 o’clock now and I have confirmed it myself that Tshezi had no interest, whatsoever, in me. He is aware of my deep and pure affection but consciously rejects it. I gave him signals upon signals but he chose to ignore me. Among us, I am the only one making an effort to communicate, reaching out to check in with him. I always desire to touch him. To hold his hands, or a hug at least. I put him on a pedestal, turning a blind eye to his faults, vulnerabilities and imperfections. I even had to make unrealistic promises and plead with my Uncle, whom the family had ostracized, to lift a finger in his case. Aren’t these enough for him to look my way?

 

And like the fool I am, I have chosen to continue loving him. I will allow the love I have for him continue to grow stronger, tying my neck in the process, lifting me up on a post and whole I fight for my breath, his name will still be on my lips. I will wait for that one day when my wish will be granted and Tshezi will forever be mine even if I lose my life in the process of waiting. A slow and painful death. The death that came with the shame of people watching you struggle for your life helplessly.

 

Death by hanging.

 

 I will, at no price, relinquish my love for a state of indifference.

 

Written By:

FitGiant