Control

She wound the window of the back seat up, to keep the wind from making the hair rough while the cab drove her to where she would meet him. Boyo at that moment stepped onto the balcony of his first floor apartment in a three storey building some two kilometres ahead with no clue what the clock said… and he couldn’t be bothered to know.

It was the second day of the long weekend; the government had declared holidays from Thursday for the sake of mourning the deceased President, not that the people cared about him. A lot of cars were still parked in their respective owners’ compound just as a small crowd gathered round a table where a table tennis competition among the youth of the area was going on just down the road lined by trees on both sides.

A green cab striped along the middle by white slowed on approaching the onlooking crowd. Also caught Boyo’s attention and he went in to get his iPhone. He was expecting his girlfriend today, her first time at the apartment he moved into a fortnight ago.

Time was half past ten as he glanced at the living room’s wall clock on his way back to the balcony. No call incoming, no missed call either as he leaned on the railings while watching the cab park in front of his apartment’s compound. “Interesting” he muttered as she alighted from the cab.

She was light skinned with designer shades on, dressed in a customised purple polo top with collar up on black pant trousers and sandals to match the polo shirt. “hmmm… ” he went when she bent over to pay the cab man.

He cussed under his breath for not having his reading glasses at hand, a tattoo on her back just above her bum had been revealed when she’d bent to pay the cab man, her underwear remained out of view however, “not the sagging type” he said in admiration.

The cab man had lingered in giving her her balance and when she turned to the compound and swept her braids off her face with a hand, he figured why. His mind’s focus didn’t linger however, moving to her hand movements.

She’d put the balance in her black purse and fumbled out her BlackBerry. “She no sabi the guy house” he muttered as he watched her movement just inside the compound’s gate. She was making to call, not type a message… his opportunity.

“Hey I’m here.” Boyo called out to her, making her to end the call and look up with a smile. “Where’s the stairway to you?” she asked. Hausa or Fulani he assumed from her accent as he pointed her to the stairway.

“Gbemi better not be on her way soon” he said, sounding half prayerful as he made to the door. She was at the start of the stairs to his floor when he opened the door in, more than enough time to admire her coming up.

“How’s it going err… ” Boyo broke mid-sentence, on purpose. “Hazana'” she helped out, “I’m Hazana’ mister man”. He let the mister man bit slide as he let her in and asked she “feel at home, I’ll be back asap”.

He rushed down to think things over, that was after getting his conscience to stop going ‘damn, she’s fine!!!’ over and again. “Alright…” he caught her roaming attention, she’d been looking around the living room, “what’s it gonna be? Juice? Wine? Horlicks?”… “what?” she chuckled, “I’ll have water, thanks”.

“You don’t take horlicks?” he asked while getting her a chilled bottle of water from the kitchen where the refridgerator was. “Sorry… ” Hazana’ replied as she received a call. Her countenance shifted from perplexed to sly admiration. All Boyo could see coming back with the bottle and a tall glass cup was a smirk on her face, her eyes on him while she listened to the caller.

“Busted” he thought and truly, he was. “That was the guy I came to see… ” she began after ending the call, “and you, mister man, are just a smart ass abi?”

Boyo chuckled, then scratched his head. He made to retort, nothing came. “Alright, kinda dumb but I couldn’t help meeting your beautiful self.”

She remained quiet for a moment, then got up and made to leave. He made to follow when his phone rang, it was Gbemi calling. “I’ll be down now” he said, ending the call. Hazana’ was gone when he got to the door. Made him look down and shake his head… he stopped just then. A card was on his door mat. And on it was her number and e-mail, “I’ll never forget this baba God” he said as he made to bring Gbemi up. He broke up with her a fortnight after…

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  1. #1 by Bankole Latinwo (@blatinwo) on January 25, 2012 - 21:49

    #dopeshit
    You really need to start getting paid for writing..

    • #2 by punkenstein on January 25, 2012 - 22:06

      Getting there bro. Soon enough. Thanks.

  2. #3 by OlisA on January 26, 2012 - 07:15

    Dudes and fine girls sef.. I’ve dropped my card on the fine girl pursuit mehn. Needs me some african queen that can make me happy, cook beta food and she go fine sha but not really a priority.. U don dey confess all ur parol way dey happen for tanke abi.lol.. Good one man.

    • #4 by punkenstein on January 26, 2012 - 08:11

      hahaha, I’m too focused on the books to notice the looks. Thanks man.

  3. #5 by Glitterrz on January 26, 2012 - 09:18

    You just had to mention “horlicks”…smh. Great use of punctuation, awesome story, flawless as usual…okay, I’ll stop right here.

    • #6 by punkenstein on January 26, 2012 - 09:33

      … I did mention wine too na -__-. Thank you.

  4. #7 by Lolu on January 26, 2012 - 10:07

    Good read…Very interesting story, albeit short. Nice one…you should write more:D

  5. #9 by qed14 on January 26, 2012 - 11:40

    Awesome. That is all.

  6. #11 by cheriz on February 15, 2013 - 04:24

    ok,first of all the story was cool,but i was just looking for the meaning of parol. just a learner

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