Ade's Chronicle 5

Bunmi led the way to her house which was not far from the bus stop. It was a five storeyed building that was painted cream. It would not have been more than five or six years but it looked like a forty year old building. The developer who built it never cared a hoot about the lots of the occupants of the building. It was capable of falling at anytime. It was like most houses in Lagos that collapse without notices.

Bunmi”s father had paid and his family habited the third floor of the building. We climbed the stairs and were let in by Bunmi who was the only one at home. The girl didn’t lie when she said she was always home alone. The house was a four bedroom flat and the interior did not depict the true nature of the exterior we saw when coming in. It looked like a totally different world. The sitting room was the next room after the three rooms and the kitchen and restrooms. The last of the rooms was the master bedroom. It had a door leading to it from the sitting room. What I saw of the house justified the impression I had that Bunmi’s parents were a little above the middle class. No wonder they sent her to our school. Their school fee is something I can’t remember now, but I know it’s on the high side. Everything in the house spoke of their high taste. From the Plasma television, the curtains, the sofas that swallowed you when you sit and invite you to sleep from afar, to the tiled floor and the centre rug which was as soft as the sand of the beach. The sight was glorifying and wonderful and I took it all in graciously.

Bunmi offered us cold drinks after we had been seated in the air-conditioned sitting room. “Ol boy ye, money good o! See life for here, I don forget say sun been wan kill me before o!” I quickly typed and sent to Rotimi as a text message when Bunmi was out of the room. She opened two packs chilled five alive berry blast drinks with two glasses. Rotimi wasted no time as he tucked his drink into his flat stomach. I gave him a look which said, ‘you are a glutton.’

Bunmi went out again only to come in with a pack of crisp fried chin-chin. She saw that I had not touched the drink. “Sir, are you quarrelling with your drink? Or you don’t want that variant? Or have I offended you sir?” she reeled out without waiting for an answer.  I did not know where to start the answering from. The fact was that I was pleased with the house, but I was not pleased at the manner in which we came about her. I believed that a man should be the one running after a woman and not vice versa. Lots of thoughts bombarded my heart. What if her parents come in? How do we explain ourselves? When are they coming back? What of her other boyfriends? Won’t they try to harm us if they find out that these ‘fine boys’ are stealing away their girlfriend from them? Anyhow we shall survive them.” When problems arise, the problem should not be thought about; rather the solution should occupy your thoughts.” One of my lecturers had said back in school.

I came back to Moshalashi, Mushin, from my thought and told her that I was just resting after walking for long in the hot sun. She relaxed a bit and sat beside Rotimi. I did as if I did not see her and faced my own chin-chin and drink. I requested for ice which she generously gave to me and left the sitting room for them with my booty. I went to the balcony which faced the street and took in the beauty of nature in that hot sun. Seeing people walking up and down in the sun looking for ways to make ends meet and seeing the irony of me in an A. C filled house that hardly knew if the sun was fierce made me know that life is indeed unequal.