Tombra is my friend and business partner: I thought about fucking him once, but well, don’t fuck your business partner. He called on Thursday, and let’s eat pizza on Saturday: who doesn’t like eating pizza?
I have been down. Which means I read more and write less, it was in this light I started a book club which will have its first grand opening on the 8th of April 2018, I don’t think much about it as I had when I first shared it on the internet.
That same week, I met a girl, I think I like her, but I can’t say much about her love for me, I can’t say much about my love for a thing, and sometimes I doubt if people like me that much, if they love me that much, if they are going to stick to promises, hold me, tell me the truth, and caution me. Most of the time, they just lie to me.
I met Tombra at an outlet cafe, let’s go to a nearby pizza hut, I swear you will like it. The shorts I wore were old Jean that was ripped at one end, In Nigeria, they are male tailors who move with the head of a sewing machine, hitting metallic scissors indicating their presence with every hit, mend torn clothes. I had torn Jean and needed the tailor with the head and metallic scissors.
I met my mom on my way out, “I don’t like your dress she said in my dialect”, I jumped into a Keke in front of the house, I blew her a kiss and zoomed off.
Tombra went through my pictures, why do you have penises all over your gallery? Heaven knows I wipe out nudes, I must have forgotten this one! It was a lover from Lagos, he sends me photos of his hardness, lately, he worships me with words, I like words, I send him my curves and wetness and all, he worships me the more, he is an artist, a writer of complex stories, a food addict and overall lazy person.
Tombra asked for my stash, I showed him, and he sent some to his phone, I like your perky nipples and curves, and I laughed as I touch his hardness.
Mom called, I didn’t pick up, why do I leave the house she feels am going to get penised, well I get penised sometimes but not all of the time!
I want an iPhone 7 I told Tombra, “I know a guy” he said, and we left for apple centre, if you’re in Abuja, you will know Wuse II, if you know Wuse II, you will know Banex, if you know Banex, you will know Apple Centre, it has a lemon yellow post sign with “Apple Centre” written on white, inside they are only apple products, they was a large television inside, on the screen is a popular Nigerian reality show called Bigbother Naija.
145k for a fairly used iPhone 7, 128 GB, the manager replied to an enquiry Tombra made, I sat down and thought about sex, I think about sex in awkward places, clean places, dry places and wordy places, here is clean and dry and not wordy, I shook hands with the manager and left, but if you ask me, the price is good for a 128GB iPhone 7.
The manager stopped a friend of his who was going in my direction, a clean black Benz! I was inwardly happy, maybe I will have this one to myself I thought, turns out he was Yoruba, and the picture of a demon flashed through my mind: I still have a girl am trying to love. The journey was silent and smooth; use your seat belt was the only thing he said.
I got down from the bike I boarded, and a woman stopped me, my daughter, you have been called by God; I moved on, stop! You will marry this year, God will give you a husband that will wipe the tears of your family and blah blah blah… I don’t believe in prophets or palm readers or fortune tellers; I believe in what I tell myself, marriage this year wasn’t part of it.
Mom met me by the door, her looks were angry, she talked about my hair and my dress and my smell: whore smell I think; my bag my everything my…. Fuck!
David said something; This old-school parent eh? We have grown past dress sense and all those shallow things, we are in the generation of ideas and new creativity. They should grow up.
Y’all should grow up; I Can’t get my mind off that iPhone 7 or the gay girl I met last week.