AISH AT YAKUBU

Copyright © 2018 by Aishat Yakubu

DISCLAIMER
This story is a work of fiction.
All incidents and people in this book are fictional.
Any resemblance to any person or situation is simply coincidental.

1
 A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

I was going to wait for this book to be professionally edited and published. But I
suddenly realized that I have been holding on to the book for more than six
months now, and it was high time I let go. So, forgive every grammatical blunders
that you might come across.

“LOVE ME” is a seed that needs to be sown into the lives of all who would read
it, and I don’t want to hold on to this seed no more.

I believe that the lessons in this Christian Romance Fiction will be seeds in your
heart that would yield thirty, sixty and hundred folds of fruit to the glory of God.

Happy Reading!!!

Aishat Yakubu

2
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I give thanks to God who has been teaching me the true meaning of love. I’ve
made a lot of dumb choices in life, but God has lovingly and patiently washed
me with His words; He made all things work together for my good. Even now, His
words are still washing me and making me a better version of myself by the day.
I never knew I would be able to write down a hundred pages of my thoughts, but
God gave me the strength to write down more than three hundred pages. I give
Him all the glory.

To my Dee, thank you for loving me as Christ loves the church; thank you for
making sacrifices for me; thank you for washing me with your words and caring
for me. Your love for me amazes me, yet it is a minute representation of how
much I am loved by God. I love you and I eagerly look forward to being your wife.
I can’t but mention the fact that you came to love me after reading the few
episodes of “LOVE ME” that I had shared on Facebook. God is indeed awesome!

To those who pushed for more when “LOVE ME” was just in episodes shared on
Facebook, I’m glad you can finally have the whole book in your hands. Thank
you for cheering me. I hope you find the book even more interesting than the few
episodes.

To Tope aka, Missygrace, thank you for encouraging me and being the first to
read this book in its crude format.

To every woman who desires to be loved and accepted despite their flaws. This
is to assure you that such love truly exists. And this love does not judge your
flaws, it patiently cleanses your flaws. You deserve nothing short of such love.

3
 EXCERPT

I keep begging to be loved. No one seems to love me.”

…I’m twenty-seven, sis. Is it so difficult to be loved back by the man I love? Or

am I unlovable? Maybe I’m not attractive enough. Or social enough…I don’t
know, but I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Moyo looked lovingly into her sister’s eyes. “You are lovable, Nifemi. There is
absolutely nothing wrong with you. This is you. Don’t be pressured to change
your personality just to keep some man. There’s a man out there just for you.
He would love and appreciate every part of your personality.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“But when will I meet that man?”

4
 CHAPTER ONE

A SQUEAK stemmed from the gate, and Felix looked towards it expecting to see
NIFEMI. A teenage boy strolled out instead, a back pack strapped around his
shoulders; he looked at Felix and smiled. Felix shook his head and half-smiled
back at the boy—though sardonic. The boy shrugged, closed the gate and walked
past him.

He glanced at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. He wondered what was
keeping Nifemi. The gate opened again, and to his relief this time, she showed
up, grinning from ear to ear, obviously excited to see him.

“Hello, my love.” She said softly, her mind still trying to figure out the reason
Felix had insisted on seeing her outside the gate. “Forgive me for keeping you
waiting.” She circled her arms around his neck, expecting him to put his arms
around her waist like he usually does, but he remained static and numb. She
pulled back and looked up into his eyes.

“You look rather cold. Did I do anything wrong apart from keeping you waiting
outside? I wonder why you refused to come in anyways.”

“I needed to talk to you alone.” He said, avoiding her eyes.

She held his hand. “Are you okay?”

Felix looked at her, his black eyes looking even darker and unaffected. “I will if
you stopped clinging so close to me like a bee.”

She released his hand sharply like one would let go of a hot object picked in
oblivion. Her eye brows rose. “What’s with the attitude? We haven’t seen in two
weeks now—you only called twice since the last time we saw. You even refused
to come into the house. Okay, all these seem strange and I really don’t
understand.”

5
“Exactly my point! You complain a lot! I’m just tired of this whole thing!” Felix
retorted.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at the same time, she couldn’t seem to
make sense of his unusual hostility. As a matter of fact, if anyone had any right
to be angry at that moment, it should be her. She was the one who got neglected
by her so-called boyfriend for two weeks.

“I still don’t understand…”

“Really? Are you that slow?”

“What?!” Determined not to get irate, she let out a sigh. “Okay, that was really
insulting, and I take exception to being insulted. Whatever is eating you up, just
let it out already.”

“Well, since you still don’t understand, I will explain to you. You are the one
eating me up.” He cleared his throat. “You complain a lot!” he raised one finger,
and then another as he listed all that he thought were wrong about her, “You
nag! You are always seeking for attention! You are not social!” He shook his head
and warped his mouth in disgust, “I don’t even think my family would like you!”

Nifemi’s eyes suddenly got larger than normal; she opened them in tremor, trying
hard to comprehend what her boyfriend of eleven months thought of her. She
shook her head vigorously as if to shake off everything Felix had just said to her.
He didn’t really say that! Did he? Snap out of it, Nife, Felix couldn’t have said
those awful things to you. He loves you, that’s for sure. Love uhn? Are you really
as slow as he said you were? Come off it, look at the hand writing on the wall, it’s
so clear even to the blind. This guy doesn’t love you. He’s been using you all the
while… She stared at the wall fencing the apartment she lived in, where is the
hand writing? She looked around. Was she going crazy?

Felix stood before her, his eyes focused on the interlocked floor. He had given
her a piece of his mind. He was done with her. He needed some fresh air. He was
better off without her. Let her deal with the situation. She should have known
better than build her life around him. Such a leech!

It took Nifemi some five to ten minutes to comport herself. She let out a short
but derisive laugh, and pointed to the way out of the Estate. “Leave now!”

Felix drew back his head slightly and twisted his mouth. “Really?”

6
“Please.” She said within clenched teeth, and tightened chest. She needed to
remind herself to breathe. No one had ever told her such unpleasant things about
herself. Felix might have as well driven his hand into her chest and ripped off
her heart. He had literally devalued her. All these eleven months, she adored him
and thought highly of him, but this was what she got in return?

He shrugged. “If you insist.” He pushed his hands into his pocket and strolled
away without any expression of remorse whatsoever.

Nifemi stared at his back in shock until she could see him no more. He didn’t
even look back.

She scampered to the gate and got into a one-minute combat with it before she
finally threw it open. She seemed to be losing her mind. She had tried so hard
not to let the tears out in his presence. Now that he was gone, the tears made
their way to the surface of her eyes. The whole world had suddenly turned blurry.
Maybe she didn’t belong here. Why was it so difficult for anyone to love her?
Maybe something was wrong with her. She eventually made her way to her
sister’s apartment on the second floor, almost missing her step as she climbed
up the stairs. She swiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her palm to
enable her see the stairs clearly. She threw the entrance door wide open, causing
the door to create a disquieting sound as it hit the wall. It startled the family of
four who were enjoying their Sunday evening in the living room, watching a
Family drama and crunching the home-made cookies she had made earlier that
day. She stormed into the living room and slammed the door. Her little three-
year old niece- GRACE cringed in fear.

The whole family, except little Grace had the same expression as they glared at
her, it was a mixture of irritation and confusion. Just ten minutes ago, she had
left the apartment basking in excitement. They wondered what could have
caused the sudden transition.

On the other hand, Nifemi seemed to be oblivious of their presence in the living
room. Her chest still tightened, with tears now flowing down her cheeks like the
down pour from a broken cloud. She scurried towards her room, bumping into
Grace’s doll which was lying carelessly on the floor. She almost fell on her face.
She lost her balance, but quickly placed her hands on the arm of one of the
sofas. She regained balance and muttered something like a curse.

7
Upon seeing what Nifemi had done to her cute doll, Grace jumped down from the
sofa, the feeling of fear now replaced with sadness at the loss of her doll’s arm.
She picked up the plastic doll and let out a cry. “Daddy, Aunty Nife broke Sally’s
arm!”

Without even a slight expression of guilt with regards to Grace's doll, Nifemi
made her way into her bedroom, turned the key knob into a lock and bounced
on the bed. Now allowing herself to sob freely, her chest relaxed as she let out all
the tears she had been trying so hard to hold back. She hugged the pillow and
cried out loudly, so much that the sound of her cry was heard in the living room.

Grace frowned at the broken arm of her doll, a few tears progressing down her
cheeks.

PAUL who had been trying to comprehend the whole drama that just played out
in his living room got up eventually and picked his tearful daughter up.

“Aunty Nife is mean like Dorothy. She broke Sally’s arm and didn’t say sorry.”

Dorothy was a mean cartoon character who broke into pieces a doll belonging to
her half-sister.

Paul placed a finger softly on Grace’s cheek and wiped the tears. “Come on Grace,
you shouldn’t compare your Aunty Nife to wicked Dorothy. Aunty Nife isn’t mean.
She is only sad.”

Grace sniffed and stared questioningly into her daddy’s eyes.

“Why is Aunty Nife sad?”

“Somebody must have hurt her and made her cry.” Paul said, brushing away the
tears from his daughter’s face.

Grace shook her head, the expression of sadness still on her little face. “That
‘Somebody’ is mean like Dorothy.”

"That he is." MOYO said, as she stood up. “I will go check on her.”

Paul nodded and took his seat. He placed Grace on his lap, and held her head
closely to his chest.

Moyo knocked at the door to Nifemi’s room and tried to push it open, but it was
locked. “Come on now Nife, please open the door.”

8
Her head buried in her pillow, “Go away, Moyo,” she said amidst sobs.

“Hmm, it must have been a terrible break up.”

Nifemi lifted her head for a moment. “Did you say something?”

“Uhm…not…not really.” Moyo stuttered.

“I said go away already! Is that too much to ask?”

Moyo placed her head closer to the door, “No problems dear, I’m here whenever
you are ready to talk.”

“I will keep that in mind.” She said brusquely and buried her head into the pillow
again.

Moyo shrugged and went back to the living room. Her only sister could be very
rude whenever she was hurting. She wished Nifemi was like her; the last thing
she would do when hurting would be to lock herself up in a room. That would
only hurt her more; she got rid of hurt by being around the people who truly
cared about her and crying on their shoulders. But Nifemi was dissimilar as she
had a way of hurting people that truly cared about her when she was hurting,
always causing herself more misery by locking herself up and refusing to let
anybody in. Not even her most trusted pillow could console her. She always
ended up making everyone around her miserable too and that was evident as
she entered the living room. Her family had lost interest in their favorite TV show,
and now staring questioningly at her.

“She didn’t let me in.” She told them as she sank into the sofa beside her seven-
year old son- SETH.

***

Nifemi stared blankly at the white board. She seemed to have forgotten the
subject she taught. She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again.
Her mind had suddenly gone blank, except for the thoughts of Felix. One of her
eyes had become misty with tears and she tried so hard to diffuse the tears back
in. She couldn’t afford to make a fool of herself before her students. She had to
get a grip on herself and her emotions.

She stared up at the ceiling for some moments.

9
The bags around her eyes were already raising questions amongst her co-
workers and students. Well, she had told them she wasn’t feeling healthy and
hoped they didn’t see through her eyes to the hurt and brokenness in her heart.

Some students chattered behind her, but she didn’t look back.

Satisfied that the tears would not betray her, she shifted her gaze from the ceiling
to the board and wrote ‘FOOD & NUTRITION.’

She breathed and turned her face, the chattering students speedily went mute.

Nifemi cleared her throat and gave the students a wry smile.

“Who knows the main source of nourishment for a baby during pregnancy? She
questioned.

A few students raised up their hands.

Nifemi beckoned to a female student. “Okay Juliet.”

Juliet stood up and all the students shifted their attention to her. “The main
nourishment for a baby during pregnancy comes from what the mother eats and
drinks.”

Nifemi’s hands rested on one of the students’ desks on the front row. All she
could see was Felix, even though she was staring at Juliet, and all she could
hear was Felix confessing his undying love to her. He said he would never get
bored of her. He promised to never leave her, to always love her.

It was more than two minutes since Juliet finished answering the question and
had taken her seat.

The student on whose desk Nifemi was resting her hands touched her hand
lightly and all her restraint to keep her emotions from overwhelming her came
crashing down—she suddenly burst into tears before her students.

A few of the students ran to her side to comfort her and ask what the problem
was. She felt embarrassed and wanted to stop the drama but she couldn’t. Every
attempt to hold back the tears seemed to press them out the more.

The Principal rushed into the classroom with Juliet who had gone to call her
from her office. She instructed the students to go back to their seats.

10
Nifemi swiped her palms over her face to get rid of the tears. She sniffed so hard
she could feel her head spinning. The Principal held her by the hand and walked
her to her office.

The Principal gestured to her to sit while she went forward to her own seat. She
pushed a box of tissue over to her.

Nifemi took some, cleaned the residual tears on her face and blew her nose.

“Can we talk now?” the Principal asked softly.

Nifemi nodded.

“I can tell your heart is broken.”

“I guess that’s obvious to everyone now. I’ve really made a mess of myself, even
before my students.”

“Don’t beat yourself. We all cry sometimes. It’s okay to be human. It’s okay to
feel. So, tell me about it. Who broke your heart?”

“Can I ask you a question ma’am?” Nifemi queried.

“Go ahead please.”

“Do you think I’m boring and uninteresting?”

The Principal took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “Trust me Nifemi, you are
not boring. And if he said that to you, he doesn’t deserve you. The guy doesn’t
love you—he’s not worth your tears. Just let him go.”

Tears drizzled down her cheeks, forming small circles on her white skirt. “But I
love him.”

“Nifemi dear, unrequited love only tends to hurt, and the more you hold on to
that person, the more miserable you will be, while the person is somewhere
enjoying himself and probably having a ‘good’ life.”

Nifemi picked up another tissue paper and dabbed the tears off her eyes. She
stared at the circles of tears on her skirt. It was hard to believe it was over
between her and Felix. Since they began dating, she had constantly pictured
what it would look like to be married to him and be the mother of his children.
She thought she had found true love at last. How would she bring herself to stop
loving him? Can she ever stop loving him? Yes, she had doubts at the beginning

11
of their relationship, but they all got overwhelmed by her emotions. She had
compromised a lot for him. She had let down her guards for him. She had built
her world around him. She felt like she was already one with him. She couldn’t
imagine being apart from him. She felt like her heart was bleeding, but she
couldn’t even reach it to stop the bleeding. Only Felix could stop the bleeding.
Only he could tend to the wound in her heart. If he wanted her to change and
become more social, she would be. She would learn it! She would beg him to give
her another chance.

“Don’t even think of begging him.” The Principal said as if reading her mind.

“What?!”

“Don’t beg him. Let him go. He doesn’t appreciate you because he doesn’t love
you.”

“But how will I teach my heart to stop loving him?”

“You have to learn it. It will be painful, but only for a little time. You will be fine.”

She felt another weight of tears gathering around her eyes. She hoped her eyes
would not get pushed out of their sockets by her unending tears. She took more
tissue and dabbed them on her eyes. She dumped them on the table with the
ones she had used earlier. They were a filthy bunch. She realized how disgusting
they looked on the Principals’ table and quickly removed them. “I’m really sorry
ma’am.” She went over to the trash can and dumped them into it. She took her
seat again.

The Principal smiled at her. “That’s okay dear. I understand. It’s okay to cry out
the pain… Now let me tell you something. You chose to love that man and you
can choose to stop loving him. Sure, it’s going to take a while before your heart
gets in sync with your decision, but it will eventually.”

“I feel so used!”

“Hmm… Is it okay to ask you a question?

“Yes ma’am.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

Nifemi shook her head. “But we did every other thing that could have led to sex.
I might have as well had sex with him. I feel so ashamed of myself.”

12
The Principal sighed and picked up a flyer from the top of her desk. She glanced
at it and handed it to Nifemi. “It’s an invite to a Singles-Bible study group. The
singles in my church gather into small groups every Saturday evening to study
God’s word, share burdens, offer counsels, pray together and encourage one
another. At the bottom of the flyer is a number you can send your address to
make an enquiry of the venue closest to you.”

Nifemi read through the flyer and sniffed.

“I beg you to check it out. I’m sure it will aid your healing process.”

Nifemi nodded and gave a dry smile. “Thank you so much ma’am.”

“You are welcome my dear,” the Principal said with a smile, “You can take the
rest of the day off. You are not in the right state of mind to teach.”

“Thank you for being so concerned and understanding ma’am.

“It’s my pleasure dear.”

Nifemi coughed as she got up to leave the Principal’s office.

“Please Nifemi,” the Principal called out, “ensure you check out the singles’
group. It will be of great help to you.”

“Okay ma’am.”

“Good. Remember, don’t beg him.”

She nodded and exited the office.

13
 CHAPTER TWO

NIFEMI DIPPED her hand into her handbag and pulled out her copy of the key
to Felix’s apartment. He had forgotten to retrieve it from her the day he ended
their relationship, and she was grateful she still had it. She was also grateful the
Principal had given her the day off. Yes, the Principal had advised her not to beg
Felix, but she just had to do something. She loved him too much to let him go
without even trying to patch things. Maybe she caused the break-up. Maybe she
was too demanding and antisocial. But she was going to do everything within
her power to restore their relationship.

She unlocked the door and dusted the door mat against the rail before going into
the apartment. She took a long breath at the sight of the living room. Felix’s
living room looked like an exhibition hall—there were stacks of clothes on the
two-settee, lots of shoes scattered on the floor. A saucer with tiny crumbs of
bread and a cup half-filled with leftover tea laid on the dining table.

Nifemi shook her head and placed her handbag and lunch bag on the dining
table. She picked up the saucer and cup and went into the kitchen.

The stench that came out of the kitchen as soon as she opened the door was
enough to make anyone pass out. She pressed her nostrils against each other
with two fingers. She added the saucer and cup to the pile of dirty plates already
in the sink. It was just Monday, and Felix’s house already looked like a pig’s
abode. She had to admit she didn’t know anyone who was as dirty as he was.

She pulled up the neckline of her blouse to cover her nose. She walked towards
the two-phase gas stove and removed the lids of the two pots on the stove
simultaneously. She stopped breathing immediately. She slammed the lids on
the pots and sped out of the kitchen.

14
She gasped for air as she entered the living room and banged the kitchen door.
Her stomach had tightened, she squeezed it with her fingers, took out her water
bottle from her lunch box and gulped in some water. Sinking into the empty sofa,
she rested her back, coughed a few times and heaved a sigh of relief as her
stomach gradually loosened.

“Gosh! Why would a person’s house be this dirty and unkempt?!”

She looked up at the wall clock. It was thirty minutes past midday. She figured
she had enough time to clean up the house and still prepare Felix a decent meal
before he got back from work. She hobbled into the bedroom and it was just the
way she had imagined it, just as messy as the other rooms in the apartment. The
wardrobe door was ajar with some clothes hanging on it. The bed sheet, a wet
towel and a visibly dirty boxer laid carelessly on the floor.

Nifemi scampered through the wardrobe, picked a short and T-shirt, and
changed into them.

She folded Felix’s clothes neatly and arranged them into the wardrobe. Within
thirty minutes, she was done cleaning the bedroom, including mopping it. She
sprayed some air-freshener, smiled at the tidy bedroom, and moved to the
bathroom.

It took Nifemi another four hours to tidy up the bathroom, living room and
kitchen, which included ironing the work clothes Felix had stacked on the sofa
and hanging them neatly in the wardrobe. She had to rest in between cleaning
to keep her backbones from fracture. All the rooms in the apartment were now
sparkling clean with refreshing smells.

Nifemi soaked herself in the shower for a few minutes and dressed up in her own
clothe. It was twenty minutes past five in the evening. Felix usually returned
from work between seven and eight in the evening. She hurried to the street’s
mini market and got some soup ingredients which included tomatoes,
vegetables, dried fish and chicken among others.

She hurried back to the house and started the meal. She cooked a pot of stew
and stored it in the refrigerator. She prepared Felix’s favorite for dinner--
Poundo-yam and lots of vegetable soup garnished with dry fish and assorted,
just the way he liked it.

15
It was twenty minutes past seven when Nifemi started setting the table. She
placed two small wraps of poundo yam neatly in a food warmer and lots of
vegetable soup in a separate food warmer; she set the warmers at the center of
the dining table, with a bottle of water, two tumblers and a wash hand basin
containing some water. She inspected the table, and then hurried to the kitchen
to get two dishes, a table spoon and a napkin. She placed them neatly and
meticulously on the table. She examined the table one more time, satisfied at the
arrangement; she went into the bathroom to freshen up. She brushed her hair,
applied a little make-up and sprayed some perfume over her body.

She took another look at herself in the bathroom mirror and dragged her feet
into the bedroom. She felt like every ounce of energy in her had been drained.
She stretched her back on the bedroom floor and stared at the ceiling. Conflicting
pictures raced through her mind. She imagined Felix being so grateful to her for
cleaning up his apartment, admitting he was wrong about her, and apologizing
for saying awful things to her. She grinned, but her expression suddenly changed
into a scowl as she pictured Felix gripping her wrist and dragging her out of his
house.

***

Nifemi was awakened by the sound of the entrance iron door banging against
the wall. She had slept off. She looked up at the clock. It was thirty minutes past
eight. She had been sleeping for about one hour. She quickly sat up and pulled
back the strands of hair covering her eye. She got up and straightened her skirt.
She was about pulling back the bedroom door but suddenly drew back her hand
and took a few steps backward. Did she just hear the clatters of a lady’s heels on
the tiles? She took few steps forward and placed her ear close to the door. “Wow!
It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” She heard a lady said.

“What!” Her chest stiffened. She reminded herself to breathe.

She had locked the entrance door and removed the key. The plan was to surprise
Felix. But it turned out Felix was the one to surprise her.

Felix had taken his new girlfriend- LINDA out on a dinner date that evening. She
was his colleague at work. He’d been crushing on her for the past two months,
since she got transferred to his branch. She was light-skinned, attractive, and

16
had curvy hips. She was classy, social, outspoken and had a great sense of
humor. She was fun to be around. He had almost asked her out immediately but
decided to be her friend first. After a month of being just friend with Linda, he
was convinced she liked him. Not that she mentioned it. But she ceased every
opportunity to be around him, and even asked him to be her date to her friend’s
birthday party.

It was on their way home after the birthday party, in a taxi he had hired, that
Felix asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes after just a minute thought, and
the new relationship was sealed with a brief kiss at the back seat of the taxi.
Felix had been so excited about his new-found love that he couldn’t hide it from
his colleagues at work. He had even taken Linda to hang out with his close
buddies and had introduced her to them as his girlfriend, something he never
did with Nifemi throughout the eleven months they’d dated. His friends had
instantly approved of her and had commended him for his perfect choice.

It was their fourth dinner date that evening. They had a swell time at an
expensive restaurant which Linda had picked. Linda sure had a great and
expensive taste. They ordered a three-course meal. The starting meal was
Chicken noodle soup; lemon chicken with couscous for main course and
strawberry jam butter cream for dessert. Their evenings out usually had a
reducing impact on his purse, but every naira spent on Linda was worth it. Or
so he thought.

Linda had insisted on visiting his house that evening. Felix had initially turned
down her request, knowing the bad shape he left his apartment. But Linda was
not the type to take no for an answer.

Felix had no choice but to bring her over. Well, she was going to find out
eventually that his house wasn’t as tidy and organized as he looked. It was better
she knew what she was getting early, he figured.

He almost couldn’t hide his astonishment when he entered the living room.
Thank goodness, Linda was busy taking an inspection of the living room that
she didn’t notice the shock on his face. For a moment, he thought he was in the
wrong apartment, and then he remembered Nifemi still had the key to his
apartment. “Oh, the key!” he thought out loud.

17
“What key...how do you manage to keep this place so clean and cool?” she walked
to the dining table and uncovered the dishes. “I think someone made dinner for
you.” Linda said inquisitively, her eyes searching his for explanation.

“Actually, sometimes I leave an extra key with my neighbor’s younger sister to

help tidy up the house and prepare some food.” Felix said without thinking.

“Really?”

“Yes. I pay her for the services.”

“Oh, I see.” Linda said, though not totally convinced. “How come she made you
dinner? I mean, we made plans like two days back to go out tonight on a dinner
date.”

Felix shrugged. “My bad. I forgot to tell her not to make dinner tonight.”

“So, what’s going to happen to the food?”

“I will just preserve them in the refrigerator.”

Linda turned towards the bedroom, “that’s the bedroom I guess.”

Felix nodded and prayed silently that she wouldn’t go in. What if Nifemi was in
there?

Nifemi had overheard Linda confirming if that was the bedroom and had quietly
picked up her bags and shoes and tiptoed into the bathroom, her heart in her
mouth. Even she didn’t know why she was hiding. She left the bathroom door
open and hid behind it. She could hear her heart beating in rapid successions.

Linda walked towards the bedroom and Nifemi could hear the clanking sounds
of her heels against the tiles as she got closer.

Linda pushed the door open and took a glance at the room. “Cool.” She said. She
took some steps forward and then hesitated. She left the door opened and walked
back to join Felix who seemed glued to a spot but was grinning stupidly to hide
his panic.

“It’s a nice place.’ she said.

“I’m glad you think so.” He said, finally summoning some courage. He moved
close to her and circled his arms around her waist, sending chills down her

18
spines. He was only a few inches taller than her. “Thanks for making my night…”
He stared into her eyes, “…I hope you enjoyed the dinner?”

Linda smiled and encircled her hands around his neck. “Every course was
delicious and memorable. I had a good time.”

“Me too,” He moved his lips closer to hers, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She said, welcoming his lips. She felt his hand moving up the
small of her back and gently disentangled. “It’s getting late, Felix. I should leave
now.”

“That’s true. I wish you wouldn’t have to go.” He shrugged.

She smiled as she marched on her six-inch shoes towards the front door.

Felix remained still. “Really huh?”

She turned. “Come on, Felix.”

“Not until I get one more kiss.” Felix said playfully.

“You are really naughty...”

Felix winked at her. “Don’t blame me… You are too beautiful to resist.”

“Well, weren’t you the one who didn’t want me coming over to your place some
thirty minutes ago?” She marched towards him, “so now it’s hard to let me go,
right?” She planted a soft kiss on his lips and pulled his ears. “Now be a gentle
man and come get me a taxi.”

Felix giggled. “Okay ma’am.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, grinning
behind her as they walked to the door and exited his apartment.

***

Nifemi’s tears were uncontrollable. She couldn’t believe all that played out in the
living room. It had to be some bad dream, and she needed to wake up already.
Felix had broken up with her only three days ago, and he was already confessing
his undying love to another lady? She had suddenly become his neighbor’s sister
who he paid to clean his house and prepare his meals? Really? He might have
as well referred to her as his servant. That was who she was. She had never been
that humiliated in her twenty-seven years on earth. She literally made herself a

19
servant for this guy. Only she didn’t get paid for her services. She came around
almost every weekend to help tidy up his apartment, and prepare foods that
would last him through the week. She did all that because she loved him. But it
turned out Felix had been using her all the while, and playing games with her
emotions. The Principal was right after all. Felix never loved her. Her love had
been unrequited.

Why was it so difficult for her to find someone who would accept, love and adore
her? She thought she had found one already, only to wake up after eleven
months and found out it was all a mirage. None of it was real. None of it was
love. One minute, Felix was confessing his undying love for her and showering
her with praises for always taking good care of him and helping to keep his
apartment clean. Another minute he was telling her how lackluster she was and
confessing his unending love to another. She sat on the floor and rested her
back on the wall. She hugged her knees and submerged her head between them.
So, this was it. It was over. He had moved on. There was no need begging
him.

Felix pulled aside the bedroom drape and stared at her for a few seconds. She
looked so pathetic—he thought. What part of it was over was she finding difficult
to comprehend? He was grateful she came around to clean his apartment.
Thanks to her, his girlfriend was impressed. He made a mental note to retrieve
his key from her that night.

“Hi.” He said, moving closer to her.

She raised her head and stared at him without saying a word.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes were bulging, like they could fall out any moment. How
long had she been crying? And her nose was runny. She looked disgusting and
even more pitiful. He gave her a nonchalant expression but suddenly his eyes
looked lost in thought. He wondered where she was when Linda came in.

“Don’t worry, your girlfriend didn’t see me. I hid behind the bathroom door.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

She gave him a cynical smile and got up. She could barely move her legs. It was
hard to tell if her exhaustion was the consequence of spending hours cleaning
Felix’s apartment, or wasting eleven months loving him unrequitedly. She
staggered to the bathroom, washed her face and staggered back to the bedroom.

20
The water on her face dripped on her blouse. She pulled out a handkerchief from
her handbag and wiped the water off her face. She replaced the handkerchief,
brought out the key to Felix’s apartment and hurled it on the bed. She slid her
feet into her flat shoes, straightened her skirt, and combed out her hair with her
fingers.

Felix watched her silently. He didn’t know what to say to her. She brought the
situation on herself. It wasn’t his fault that she got hurt. He already told her it
was over, only for her to show up uninvited at his apartment.

She took one last look at him. “Thanks for everything. Have a good life.”

“Mm…lemme…let me see you off.” He stuttered.

“Never mind. I can manage.”

“Are you sure?”

She ogled him, “I am.” She limped out of the bedroom with Felix following behind.

“I still need to pay you for the food. I saw the stew in the refrigerator too.”

“Consider it a…. hmmm…a parting gift.” Nifemi said softly.

“Really? Thanks so much. You are such a life saver.”

She nodded. He was about following her as she exited the apartment, but she
raised her hand in objection. “I’m fine.”

Felix waved at her as she descended the portico and looked back at him briefly.
He went back inside and locked the door.

***

It was past 10pm when Nifemi got home. She stood outside the gate, her back
leaning on the fence. Her legs were shaking. She was tempted to sit on the bare
floor but didn’t succumb. The gate was locked as usual. She had called her sister
to come open the gate for her. She could tell her sister was disappointed by her
tone on the phone. No one in the house stayed out till 10pm. Not even her sister’s
husband.

Moyo opened the gate and peered outside.

21
Nifemi staggered in. She hit her ankle against the rod that connected the gate
and almost fell on her face. She let out a short cry in pain.

Moyo held her shoulders and pushed her back until she regained steadiness.
“You look like a mess. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were
drunk. What has come over you, Nife?”

Nifemi limped inside and Moyo locked up the gate.

“Talking of getting drunk, I wish I could do that right now. At least all my worries
would disappear.”

Moyo shook her head sympathetically at her kid sister. “For some moments, you
meant.”

“Even for some moments would be okay.” She limped towards the staircase.
“Moyo, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Moyo figured it wasn’t the right time to reprimand her for making a mess of
herself and staying out late. She knew her sister well. She fell in love very fast.
But when it came to falling out of love, she was as slow as a snail. She sighed
and took the bags from her. She helped her up the stairs.

Paul shook his head as the two sisters staggered into the living room. He got up,
without uttering a word and went towards the bedroom he shared with his wife.

“I’m sorry.” Moyo called out to her husband.

Nifemi coughed several times like she was going to throw up.

“Do me a favor please? Don’t throw up here.” Moyo pleaded as she dragged her
towards her bedroom

Nifemi swallowed and robbed her fingers on her eyes. Her eyes were hurting
terribly.

Moyo flew opened the door to Nifemi’s bedroom, Nifemi limped inside and fell on
the bed—lying on her face.

Moyo dumped the bags on the reading table. Her hands on her waist, she stared
at her sister. “You could use the shower right now, you know.”

“I will pass.” Nifemi buried her head in the bed.

“I doubt you would be able to make it to work tomorrow”

22
“My head is spinning right now, my legs and eyes hurt terribly. I will call in sick.”
She pulled herself up and rested her head on the pillow. She still felt like crying,
but the tears wouldn’t come out anymore. Maybe she had finally exhausted the
water in her body.

Moyo sighed and helped remove Nifemi’s shoes and hand chain. She sat on the
bed and ran her fingers through her sister’s hair. She had never seen her this
broken. Yes, she’d experienced some heartbreak in the past, but this was the
worst of them all. She felt sorry for her sister. Tears trolled down one of her eyes.

Nifemi pushed back the pillow, and then flung it on the floor. She pulled her legs
up, hitting Moyo’s thigh in the process. “Sorry.” She said in a whisper. She felt
very restless. She opened her eyes and caught Moyo’s. “Are you crying?”

Moyo rubbed off the tear from her cheek.

“Please don’t pity me. You know how much I hate being pitied.”

Moyo glided upward and lifted Nifemi’s head onto her lap. She smoothened her
hair softly. “Nifemi, this isn’t pity. I love you, and I can feel every bit of your pain.”

Nifemi closed her eyes and Moyo stroked her to sleep.

As soon as Nifemi slept off, Moyo went into the bathroom, soaked a small towel
in water, squeezed it slightly and went back to Nifemi’s room. She folded the
towel and placed it gently on her forehead, down to her temples. She pulled up
the quilt over her legs, turned off the light and left the room.

23
 CHAPTER THREE

NIFEMI OPENED her eyes to the rays of sunlight glaring through the satin
window curtain. She shut her eyes immediately and rubbed her fingers on them.
They hurt less terribly than the previous night. She was cold. Every part of her
body ached. She pulled up her knees, and then the bed sheet over her face. She
coughed a few times. She heard her bedroom door opened, followed by footsteps.

Moyo smiled and sat on the bed. She had a small white envelope in her hand.
She pulled the bed sheet down Nifemi’s face and frowned. Nifemi’s eyes were
swollen. She placed her palm on Nifemi's forehead, and it was blazing hot. “You
should take a cold shower.”

Nifemi shook her head. “I can’t. I’m cold.”

“But your temperature is abnormally high. You need to cool off and your muscles
need to relax too. Some cold water over your body would go a long way.”

Nifemi widened her already bulged eyes. “Wait! What’s the time?”

“It’s past ten in the morning. Don’t worry; I already called your Principal to inform
her of your ill health. She sent her prayers.”

“Oh, thanks…And amen to the prayers.” She pulled the bed cover over her face.

“Come on, Nifemi. You can’t stay in bed all day.” She begged, but Nifemi didn’t
oblige.

Moyo stood up and pulled off the bed sheet. “You need to take care of yourself,
plus I have something that would interest you.” She waved the envelope in her
hand.

Nifemi frowned, clearly uninterested in whatever was contained in the mysterious

envelope. “I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?”

24
“Yes.” Moyo said, flinging the bed sheet on the floor. “You are no longer allowed
to lay brooding on the bed.”

Nifemi sat up. “And who made that rule?”

“I did… this is my house remember?”

Nifemi nodded. “Right. Thanks for reminding me.” She sneezed and got down the
bed.

“Hey Nifemi, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean any offense. I just want you to get a
grip on yourself and live. No one’s worth putting your life on hold for.”

Nifemi pulled off her work clothes. She had slept in them the previous night.
“You know what? Maybe I should change my name. The Literal meaning of Nifemi
is ‘love me,’ maybe that’s the reason I keep begging to be loved. No one seems
to love me.”

Moyo tossed the envelope on the reading table and moved closer to her sister.
She placed her hands on her shoulders and squeezed them softly. “Why would
you say that? You are loved, Nife. I love you. Your niece and nephew love you.
Even my husband loves and cares a lot about you.”

“Hmm…I’m twenty-seven, sis. Is it so difficult to be loved back by the man I love?

Or am I unlovable? Maybe I’m not attractive enough. Or social enough…I don’t
know, but I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Moyo looked lovingly into her sister’s eyes. “You are lovable, Nifemi. There is
absolutely nothing wrong with you. This is you. Don’t be pressured to change
your personality just to keep some man. There’s a man out there just for you.
He would love and appreciate every part of your personality.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“But when will I meet that man?”

“Soon, Nifemi. Very soon. Just concentrate on being you and pursue those things
you are passionate about. Never put your life on hold. Pursuing your passion
would even make you look more beautiful and attractive… Come here.” She
pulled her insecure sister closer and hugged her tightly. “I love you, little sis.”

25
Nifemi smiled as she put her arms around her sister and hugged her back. It
was her first sincere smile since the evening Felix broke up with her. She felt so
secured and loved in her sister’s arm. She held her tighter. “Thank you.”

“Babes, I can’t breathe.” Moyo whispered into her ear jokingly.

She chuckled and pulled back. “I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “How come you
are at home though? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Moyo grinned. “I took the day off to spend time with my one and only sister. What
do you think?”

Nifemi was all shades of happy. She had never doubted her sister’s love since
they were kids. She had always known she truly loved her. “I think you are really
sweet.”

“Aww…thanks little sis.”

Moyo and Nifemi were raised by their maternal grandma. Their dad had married
their mom against his parents’ wish. Their parents couldn’t even have a proper
wedding because their paternal grandparents never liked their mom. They
believed her family was cursed. Their maternal grandpa had been involved in an
argument with his friend over a piece of land; he’d gotten overwhelmed with
anger and shot his friend dead in the process. Realizing what he had done and
the consequences that would follow, he shot himself in the head too. It was a
horrible and perturbed day in their usually peaceful small town, and that
incident had labelled their family accursed. It turned out that their dad was so
much in love with their mom and wouldn’t leave her for any reason. He managed
to pay her dowry and proceeded to take her to his home in Lagos as wife. They
were so much in love with each other and adored each other. They were very
happy together. However, their happiness got terminated one terrible Tuesday
evening. A drunk truck driver ran into their dad’s car on his way from work. The
car was squeezed against the road barricade, so much that their dad was
unrecognizable. The plate number on the car and his personal belongings,
including the groceries he had promised to buy on his way from work had
convinced their mom that her loving husband was indeed dead. Moyo was five
years at the time, and their mom was pregnant with Nifemi.

Their mom became a shadow of her own herself after the accident that claimed
her loving husband’s life. She literally stopped living. But for the growing fetus

26
in her womb, she was tempted several times to end her life. She believed her
husband was her life. He had great plans for her and their family. She thought
no one could ever love her like he did. She started eating less no matter how
hard she tried. The smell of food would always make her nauseate. Suddenly,
she began to lose weight and faint often. She was ultimately rushed to the
hospital. She was seven months pregnant with Nifemi at the time and was
diagnosed of psychosomatic disorder. Their diabetic sixty-year-old grandma had
to shuffle between taking care of her only daughter at the hospital and attending
to the needs of five-year old Moyo.

Two days before Nifemi was born, their mom’s condition had worsened. A
Christian nurse prayed for her and guided her to believing in Christ, triggering
her to smile for the first time since her husband passed. She suddenly went into
labour but was too weak to deliver the baby on her own. A caesarian section was
done on her and the baby taken out prematurely. She went into coma during the
surgery. To the surprise of the doctors and nurses, the baby was perfectly
healthy and weighed five pounds, and there was no need to keep her in the
incubator. It was a miracle.

Their mom came out of coma after three days, much to the relief of everyone,
especially their grandma. Sadly, their relief only lasted a few hours. Their mom
was still weak and in great pain. She held her little baby in her arm and named
her OLUWANIFEMI, which meant GOD LOVES ME. Even though she was in
pains, her eyes shone at the realization of how much she was loved by God. It
was why she gave her new born the name. She wanted her baby to grow up with
the same truth she just got to grasp on her dying bed—the fact that God loves
her! She handed the baby over to her mom, slept off a few hours later and never
woke up again.

Their paternal grandparents didn’t want to have anything to do with the kids
and they never showed up, even at their mom’s funeral. Their grandma had to
leave Nifemi at an Orphanage in town. She just couldn’t combine taking care of
two kids with her ill-health. Their mom was her only child after several
miscarriages. None of her relatives was kind enough to help take in the kids.
Though a few of them gave her some cash and dropped off some groceries at her
place for a short time.

However, Moyo made sure grandma took her to the orphanage to check up on
her baby sister every weekend.

27
When Moyo was ten, she pleaded with her grandma to bring her little sister home
already. After several days of crying and refusal to eat which earned some spanks
of grandma’s cane, she remained adamant and eventually ran to the town’s
reverend father. The reverend father took pity on little Moyo and promised to
assist grandma with regular cash for the kids’ upkeep and school fees. He did
make good his promise until they both graduated from the University. He was
their angel. He didn’t only give them money, but also taught them morals,
discipline and hard work. He was a father to them. He was the reason they still
visited their hometown even after their grandma passed away two years ago.

“Less I forget…” Moyo said, walking towards the reading table. She picked up the
envelope and held it up high.

Nifemi rolled her eyes. “What’s in the mysterious envelope?”

Moyo beamed with excitement. “Just guess.”

“You got a promotion at work?”

“Nope. Give it another try… It’s actually yours.”

“My great grand aunt willed her estate to me alone?”

Moyo let down her hand. “Really? That’s a wishful thinking. None of your great
grand aunt ever owned an estate. Come on, get serious.” She raised the envelope
up again. “Something to do with your passion…” She said, giving her a clue.

“Okay… Mmmm…” Nifemi pushed up her chin with the index finger of one hand
and stared into the ceiling. “Wait!” She gazed into her sister’s eyes. “I got the job!
I’m going to be a Chef at Hallopins Hotel! Is that it?

Moyo held her eyes soundlessly for a minute and then yelled “YES!”

“Oh my God!” Nifemi jumped up and then hugged her sister tightly. She pulled
back and collected the envelope from her sister. She tore it open and unfolded
the letter.

Moyo laughed. She was as excited as her sister. Cooking was Nifemi’s greatest
passion. She even had many recipes of her own.

“I can’t believe this!” Nifemi said excitedly as she read through the letter.

28
“You have to cook them a convincing meal first. I don’t see that as a problem in
any case.”

Nifemi laughed. “Of course not. I will absolutely wow them with my cooking.

“I trust you little sis. Can I get a high five?” Moyo raised her right hand.

Nifemi slapped the flat of Moyo’s palm with hers, and hugged her again. “You are
the best sister in the whole world.”

“I know… but girl, you stink. You sure could use a bath right now.” Moyo teased.

Nifemi withdrew and scowled playfully. “Really?”

“Sooorry.” Moyo shrugged. “The truth is; you’ve been taking my breath away
since I entered your room.”

Nifemi threw the envelope on the bed, got her towel and walked out of the
bedroom quietly.

“Come have breakfast when you are done.” Moyo called out amid laughter.

***

The atmosphere in their apartment had changed for the first time in three days.
Every member of the family had been affected by the breakup—including the
kids. It had been literally difficult for anyone to laugh. Dinner time had been
awfully quiet.

After breakfast that morning, Nifemi was determined to be happy and move on.
Felix had moved on obviously. She wasn’t going to brood over him no more. So,
she decided to make a special two-course dinner to appease the family and
celebrate her new job. Apparently, her brother in-law had shared some of her
cooking videos with a colleague at work whose elder brother- MR. DELE, was the
manager at Hallopins hotel.

“Mr. Dele was literally awed by the videos.” Paul had said. Nifemi cooked like a
professional. Her confidence was obvious through the way she handled every
food item and creatively turned them into attractive meals. He could tell the food
were delightful just by seeing the videos. His brother also confirmed he had eaten
some of her meals and they were delicious. Mr. Dele had immediately instructed

29
one of the front desk officers to get Nifemi’s appointment letter ready. They were
short-staffed in the kitchen as three of their chefs had recently resigned.
However, he instructed the front desk officer to include the condition of Nifemi
cooking a meal first in their presence to convince them, and then the job would
be hers.

It was Nifemi’s childhood dream to become a Chef. The job offer was a miracle
and a dream come true. Cooking had always been her hobby. She usually hung
around her grandma in the kitchen whenever she was cooking; while Moyo on
the other hand would burry herself in her books and rarely went into the kitchen
whenever grandma was cooking. Nifemi usually got into trouble with her
grandma though. Most times she would chase her out to go read her books like
her elder sister was doing instead of hovering around her in the kitchen. Her
persistence eventually paid off, her grandma later gave up and allowed her learnt
the arts of cooking.

Nifemi started cooking when she was fourteen. Even though Moyo was
grandma’s favorite, Nifemi would always be grateful to her grandma for teaching
her the basics of cooking.

Nifemi had her first degree in Home Economics, and during her one-year
compulsory national youth service following her first degree, she did a one-year
culinary course in both local and intercontinental cuisines. Her dream was to
own a chain of restaurants and culinary schools someday.

“Enough of the filming sis.” Nifemi said as she turned off the gas. It was Moyo’s
idea to always capture Nifemi’s cooking moments on a video camera. She’d got
her the camera on her last birthday, and wanted her to start a YouTube cooking
channel, but Nifemi had never gotten around it. She hated the spotlight. She just
liked to do her own thing quietly in the kitchen, not for the whole world to see.
She must have thought the whole world would follow her on YouTube. However,
Moyo had faith she would change her mind someday, and she made it her duty
to be Nifemi’s cooking videographer every time she was available. And that she
had been for about a year. She would usually edit the videos and save them on
her laptop, hoping that someday soon, Nifemi would agree to put them out on
YouTube. Her decision did pay off, because some of the videos had gotten Nifemi
the new job at Hallopins Hotel. The hotel was four-star rated; so, the job was a
great deal for her.

30
Moyo turned off the camera and placed it gently on the kitchen cabinet. “Well, I
guess I can help clean up.”

Nifemi glared at her. “Yea right. You literally made me do the cooking all alone,
as always.”

“Don’t blame me. It’s the first time you are making roasted vegetables with pasta.
I’d to capture every step of the preparation.” Moyo removed the lid of the pot and
breathed in the aroma. She swallowed. “This is really yummy.”

Nifemi smiled. “I know. Can we clean up already? Wait. Did I just say we? You
should do the cleaning alone since I did the cooking alone.”

Moyo replaced the lid on the pot and gave her a contrite look. “Don’t be mean.
What are sisters for?”

Nifemi chuckled as her sister hurried to the kitchen sink and immediately picked
up a sponge.

“Let’s do this together. Please…” Moyo begged with a wink.

***

“All of your offenses are forgiven, Nifemi.” Paul said as he gobbled in the last
spoon of dessert. “Dinner was awesome.”

Well, even if he never uttered a word, it was obvious from the way he attacked
the main meal and then the dessert that he enjoyed every bit of it.

Moyo laughed. “Darling, how did you know the food was a peace offering?”

Paul chuckled and got up, causing the chair to screech. “It’s not every day we
get a two-course meal for dinner. Thanks a lot, Nifemi. I did enjoy the meal.
Consider your offering accepted.”

“Thanks for forgiving me, brother in-law. And I’m so sorry about the whole
drama.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad you are fine now.”

“Me too.” Moyo said with a grin directed to her sister.

31
Nifemi clasped her palms and held them high up to her face level. She looked
from her brother in-law to her sister and then to her nephew and niece. “Thanks
family.”

They all smiled at her.

“You are always welcome.” Paul said, pushing in the chair. “I hate to leave you
guys. But I happened to have brought some work home.”

Moyo glared at her husband “And that is news?”

Nifemi let out a quiet laugh and quickly covered her mouth with her palm.

Paul walked over to where his wife was seated and squeezed her shoulders
gently. “Come on, my love. It’s not every day I bring work home.”

Moyo nodded in sarcasm, “you might as well make our bedroom your office
annex.”

Paul gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I have a presentation to the board-of-
directors tomorrow. So, I need to get all the figures right.”

Moyo nodded without a word.

“Good night guys.” Paul said after kissing his kids on their heads.

“Good night daddy.” The kids said in unison.

“Aunty Nife, can I take some avocado pie to school tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Nifemi said, putting an arm around Grace’s tiny shoulders.

“Me too.” Seth said from across the dining table.

Nifemi smiled at her nephew. “You can have some too. I will make sure to
preserve the left over for you my little cuties.”

“Thank you.” Seth said, bubbling with smile.

Grace looked up tenderly at her aunt. “Thanks Aunty Nife.” She said in her tiny
voice.

“It’s my pleasure dear. And I’m so sorry for breaking Sally’s arm.”

Grace shrugged.

“Do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?”

32
“I forgive you, Aunty Nife.”

“Thanks, dear. Can I get you another Sally?”

“Don’t worry. I will just play with Banny and Micky.”

“Awww, you are such a sweetheart.” She gave Grace a kiss on her cheek. “I love
you Grace.”

“I love you Aunty Nife.” Grace said with an endearing cute and honest grin.

33
 CHAPTER FOUR

THAT NIGHT, Nifemi laid restless on her bed. Her eyes were closed, but she
couldn’t sleep. Her head was full of thoughts of Felix, even though he was the
last person she wanted to think about. She just couldn’t get him off her mind no
matter how hard she tried.

She thought about how they first met. For her, it was love at first sight, or so she
thought at that time. Now that she thought about it, Felix must have noticed she
liked him and had pretended to like her too. She wished she never met him.

Nifemi was going back home from work that Tuesday evening and was waiting
at the bus-stop to board a bus. She had just finished receiving a call when a bus
stopped. She hurriedly threw the phone in her handbag without zipping it up.
There were two men behind her also trying to get into the bus. One of them
galloped past her, almost knocking her down. His trouser waistline was fastened
with a worn-out belt around his thighs, revealing his dirty underwear, he had
long hair tightened into several knots like that of a crazy man. Unwitting to
Nifemi, he had dipped his hand into her bag and took out her phone while she
was trying to regain her balance.

The other man suddenly ran past her and gripped the irregular man by his wrist.
He was well dressed in a clean shirt properly tucked in, suit hanging on his hand
and an iPad and iPhone clasped within his palm. He had curved nose that
complemented his conspicuous cheekbones. His basalt jaw and frugal shoulders
revealed strength. He was the perfect description of tall, dark and handsome.
“Bring out the lady’s phone!” he yelled, filling the bus with his resounding voice.

Nifemi combed through her bag and realized her phone was gone. “My phone! I
can’t find my phone! She screamed.

“He stole your phone! Now bring out the phone or do you want me to bring it out
myself?!” the handsome dude yelled again.

34
The crazy guy cringed in fear. “I did not take any phone!” he displayed his palms
and turned out his trouser pockets to show he wasn’t hiding anything.

“Come dial your number on my phone.” The handsome dude motioned to Nifemi.

Nifemi hurriedly collected his iPhone and dialed her number on it. A few seconds
later, she heard the ringing tone of her phone. The sound was coming from the
crazy guy’s body. The other passengers watched the drama in the bus with
enthralled devotion. A few of them spat curses at the guy.

The crazy guy dipped his hand into his boxers and brought out the phone.

“Eww!” Nifemi screamed in disgust.

The handsome dude collected the phone from the crazy guy and signaled to
Nifemi to follow him as he went to take a seat. Nifemi took a seat beside him as
the driver started the engine.

Some passengers scowled at the crazy guy when he looked for a seat, causing
him to settle for a lone seat at the end of the bus.

The handsome dude brought out a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and
wiped it over Nifemi’s phone.

“I have a sanitizer.” Nifemi said and brought out a hand sanitizer from her
handbag.

The handsome dude chuckled, collected it, pressed a little on the handkerchief
and wiped it round the surface of the phone. “Are you comfortable holding it
now?” he asked, smiling.

Nifemi eyed the phone.

He grinned. “It’s safe now.”

Nifemi collected the phone with two fingers, held it close to her nose. Convinced
it had no awful smell; she held it in her palm and thanked the guy. “My name is
Nifemi.” She said, looking into his eyes.

The handsome dude held her eyes for a few seconds, his black eyes gleaming
with delight. “I’m Felix.” He said, “And it’s nice to meet you.”

Nifemi spun on the bed and smiled faintly at the memory. “It wasn’t nice meeting
him after all.” She thought. Things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did if

35
she didn’t give him a clue that she liked him. She had saved his number that
day and called him the next day to appreciate him for helping her retrieved her
phone. She sent him an SMS the day after, praying for God’s favor on him, and
then called him the following day to ask how his day went.

Eventually, Felix got the hint, and started calling her too. They would talk for
hours before going to bed.

Nifemi wasted no time in telling him she wasn’t interested in playing games and
asking him what he really wanted from her. She also made it clear to him that
she was a Christian, not just a church goer, and that she took her relationship
with God very seriously, hence she’d only go into relationship with a man who
did the same.

Felix told her what she wanted to hear. He made her believe he was a committed
Christian and assured her they would grow together in their relationship with
God. He also told her he was in love with her and wanted their relationship to
lead to marriage.

Few weeks into their relationship, they were only talking on phone. Nifemi
complained about it, and asked when he was going to take her out, but he
claimed to be busy at work. A few days later, he invited her to a single’s service
at his church and Nifemi was pretty much impressed.

After the service, they went over to his house, though Nifemi wasn’t comfortable
with it initially. However, when they got to his house, it looked really untidy, and
Nifemi insisted they cleaned. After an hour of cleaning, she freshened up, and
while she was about applying some make up at the mirror in his bedroom, he
came in and hugged her from behind. “You look so beautiful even without
makeup.” He whispered into her ear and kissed her ear.”

“Thank you.” She said weakly, “but I’m not comfortable with this.”

“Really?” he kissed her ear again.

“Felix, please stop.” Her voice became even fainter and her knees got weak.

“Are you sure you want me to stop?” Felix questioned mischievously as he moved
his lips down to her neck.

Nifemi was confused. She felt so good in his arms, but she also felt it was wrong.
How can something feel so good, yet so wrong? “I don’t know.” She muttered.

36
Felix held her by the shoulders and spun her. “Look into my eyes.” he said softly.
“This is not wrong. I know you don’t want to have sex until you are married.
Trust me I’m not going to make you have sex with me. I also don’t want to make
you do anything you are not comfortable with. But you are my girlfriend, and I
want to kiss you.”

Nifemi licked her lips. She wanted him so much to kiss her. It was ten years
since she kissed a guy and had sex. That was before she got born again, the guy
had deflowered her, and he was the only one she had ever been that intimate
with—since becoming an adult. After she got born again, she’d regretted giving
herself so cheaply to a man and had resolved to wait till marriage to kiss and
have sex. But at that moment, looking into Felix eyes, she couldn’t even
remember the resolve. She put her arms around his neck, and Felix immediately
got the message. He raised her chin up gently and kissed her slowly. It felt like
paradise to Nifemi, and she welcomed his lips like she’d been waiting for them
all her life.

That kiss brought Nifemi to some new form of awareness, so much that she
began to look forward to their moments alone. It didn’t take a long time before
they graduated from kissing to caressing. Even though she usually felt guilty
after every episode of her new-found hobby, she just couldn’t bring herself to
stop. She had gotten used to it. She had gotten used to him. Gradually, she
began to wax cold in her fellowship with God. She felt so tired of apologizing to
God every time she wanted to pray. She felt God should be tired, since her
constant apologies were beginning to sound like a broken record even in her own
ears. Maybe she wasn’t sorry anymore because she was really having a good
time. She couldn’t deny the fact that it felt so good. After a few months, all she
could do was mutter a few minutes thanksgiving prayer to God every morning
for giving her life, and she only attended church occasionally. There were days
she would dress up for church and ended up at Felix’s house. They could barely
hold a ten-minute conversation without kissing. When they weren’t kissing or
caressing, she was cleaning his house or cooking his meals. He never took her
out on a date, not even on her birthday and whenever she complained, he always
claimed too busy on weekdays, and too tired on weekends. Nifemi eventually
settled for spending time with him at his apartment.

Throughout their eleven-month relationship, the day he broke up with her was
the fourth time he visited her.

37
Nifemi rolled on the bed and then sat up. Tears had clouded her eyes again.
Going down memory lane, she realized she’d been a fool all along. She had
attempted to do her own thing. She had tried to figure out her life without God.
She had gone into a relationship that was far from God’s best for her, and now
she felt miserable. She felt alone. The cloud of tears dispelled and ran down her
cheeks, dripping on her favorite Mickey Mouse bed spread.

She closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, God. Can you still forgive me? Please forgive
me.” she muttered.”

“Anyone who comes to me, I will never cast away.1” The words sounded audible
to her ears, but she couldn’t see anyone around. She hurried up and knelt by
her bed.

“God, I’m not worthy of your love. I don’t deserve to be accepted back. I was the
one who left. All you ever did was loved me. And even now, you still love me,
weaknesses and all.”

More tears came gushing down her eyes. They were no longer tears of being hurt
and rejected by Felix, but tears of repentance, and the realization of being
loved and accepted by the God who knew all things about her and still chose
to love her. She buried her face in her palms and wept bitterly, careful not to
wake up the family who were already sleeping.

She picked up her Bible and read First Corinthians, chapter thirteen repeatedly.
She meditated on it for a while and raked through the books on her table to find
her journal. She couldn’t even remember the last time she used it. She later
found it amid the Christian literatures under her reading table. She shook her
head. She used to be really into God, but she’d suddenly gotten cold because she
chose a man over Him. “Lord, I’m so sorry.” She pulled back the chair, and sat.
She meditated on First Corinthians thirteen again. Then, she began to scribble
down something on her journal;

“God did not fall in love with me. He counted all the cost. He considered
my frailty, my weaknesses. He knew loving me would cause Him to put up
with my shortcomings. He knew loving me meant He wouldn’t give up on
me even if I kept making the same mistakes over and over again. He knew
loving me meant He would choose to think the best of me even in my worse
moments. He knew loving me would cause Him to keep on forgiving me
and never refer to my past sins, since He wasn’t going to keep record of

38
my offenses. He knew loving me meant sometimes He would have to come
down to my level and empathize with me. He knew loving me meant He
would have to give me the freedom to be me, let me make my own choices,
and never force anything on me. He knew loving me doesn’t guarantee that
I would love Him back, yet He was ready to take a chance. He decided He
was still going to love me even though the cost was on a very high side.
The cost would stretch Him, even to the point of giving up His life. Yet, He
chose love. He chose to love me. He walked into love with me with His eyes
widely opened. If He had to choose a hundred times over, He would still
choose to love me. That is why He said, ‘I have loved you with an
everlasting love.2’”

Nifemi lifted her hands and gave thanks to God for His unending love. She picked
up a sticky note, and wrote in bold letters; “I AM LOVED BY GOD.” She pasted
it on the wall close to her bed and read it out several times before falling asleep.

***

The morning assembly was over when Nifemi got to school the next morning. She
had woken up late even though her sister tried to no avail to get her off the bed
early. She couldn’t make it to work until 9am. She hurried to the Principal’s
office. She had written her resignation letter the previous night. Though she was
expected to resume at her new job the following Monday, she wrote in her
resignation letter that she would leave in two weeks to afford them ample time
to get another teacher that would replace her.

The Principal was happy for Nifemi, but felt sad that she was leaving. She had
always liked her since the day she came to submit her application letter. She
was gentle, respectful, friendly and intelligent. “The students would miss you.
You were more like a sister to them.” She said sadly.

“I’ll definitely miss them too.”

“You sure deserve a send-forth party. You’ve spent two years and a few months
with us. You were hardworking and dedicated all through. I’ve watched you teach
those kids with great passion, especially the practical sessions. You’ve got what
it takes to be a Chef. I can vouch for that.”

“Oh, thank you ma’am.” Nifemi said, flushed.

39
Most of the students came forward to hug her when she broke the news to them
later that day after her classes. Some of them even shed tears. She reminded
them she still had two weeks to be with them, and assured them she would
always keep in touch. However, they made her promise to organize two practical
classes before her eventual departure.

***

On Saturday afternoon, Nifemi prepared to hang out with her best friend- UZO.

They’d been friends since their freshman year at the University of Ibadan when
they were roommates. Uzo’s parents would always bring Nifemi lots of gifts
whenever they visited. Uzo was the last child of her parents, and even though
she was born with a silver spoon, her humility and selflessness had brought
them close.

Nifemi would never forget her first night in the hostel. She’d fallen from her bed,
which was on the upper part of the bunk she shared with Uzo. She sprained her
ankle as a result of the fall. Uzo immediately swapped bed space with her—letting
Nifemi take the lower bed space, she also made it a duty to walk Nifemi to her
department every day until she could walk well on her own.

Uzo studied Accounting and had gone for her Master’s degree in the United
States immediately after their one-year compulsory national youth service. It
didn’t take long for her to secure an amazing position at the headquarters of one
of the top Banks in Nigeria, based on her dad’s influence. However, being a
banker sure came with its own demands. She barely had time for anything other
than work on weekdays and would always travel down to Ibadan from Lagos to
spend weekends with her parents.

Uzo had called Nifemi on Friday night to share some good news, but had to hold
back when Nifemi told her all that transpired with Felix.

Nifemi couldn’t bring herself to call her earlier, because she knew Uzo never
approved of her dating the guy.

However, Uzo decided to cancel her weekend trip to Ibadan to spend some time
with her best friend. Moreover, it’d been a long time since they hung out, and
they sure had a lot to catch up on.

40
Uzo had a lot of fun activities planned for them that weekend. Nifemi was going
to spend the whole weekend at Uzo’s Lekki apartment. Though Nifemi opted to
take a commercial vehicle to her place, she had insisted on going over to pick
her up. She wanted to spend some time with Nifemi’s family too. It was a really
long time since she last saw them.

At about one in the afternoon, Uzo arrived at the estate and pulled over her white
Toyota Matrix into the compound. She and Nifemi hugged tightly for a minute,
giggling like kids before making their way to the apartment. They were so
overwhelmed with seeing each other that Uzo forgot the gifts she’d brought for
the family. She remembered when they were about climbing the stairs and they
went back to the car to collect the big shopping bag.

“Did you buy the whole shop?” Nifemi asked as she lifted the bag from the trunk.
She and Uzo had to carry the bag to the apartment.

Grace ran eagerly to Uzo when they entered the living room.

Uzo released the bag and lifted her with a big smile. She hugged her. “Oh my!
Grace! It’s been only a few months since I saw you and you’ve grown so big
already,” she stared questioningly at Moyo, “what have you been feeding her?”

Moyo smiled. “Well, ask your friend. She does most of the cooking.”

Nifemi dragged the shopping bag away from the doorway.

The three ladies laughed.

“Where is Seth?” Uzo asked, looking around the living room.

“He went out with his dad. It’s boys’ day-out” Nifemi answered.

“I see.” Uzo nodded, “that sounds like fun. So, when is girls-day-out?”

“Soon, I suppose.” Moyo responded with a grin.

“I missed you, Aunty Uzo.” Nifemi said in her sweet tiny voice.

“I missed you more, dear.” Uzo planted a kiss on Grace’s cheek.

Grace kissed Uzo back on the cheek.

Uzo grinned. “Aww—you are still as sweet as ever.” She took a seat on the sofa
and released her handbag. She stroked Grace’s curly hair. “I’m always desirous
of these natural curls.”

41
Nifemi noticed the glittering diamond ring on the fourth finger of Uzo’s left hand
and her eyes suddenly expanded in awe. “Girl! Is that an engagement ring?!”

Moyo gazed at the ring as Uzo went red in the face.

Nifemi paced to the sofa, she sat beside Uzo and held up the ring finger. “Oh My
Goodness! Bayo proposed!”

Uzo giggled. “Yes, he did!”

“When?!” Nifemi questioned, circling her finger round the ring in admiration.

“Just last night.” Uzo said, still grinning.

“Are you for real?! Tell me everything!”

Uzo laughed. “Sure."

Moyo took the opposite sofa and listened with spellbound attention as Uzo
narrated the proposal tale.

“Earlier yesterday, a stunning turquoise blue dress was delivered to my office

with a card in it. Below the card was a handwritten note that said; ‘I’ll pick you
up for dinner at 7pm. Please wear the dress.’ I could tell the gift came from him
by the handwritten note, since he didn’t put his name on it. I’m sure he wanted
me to figure it out.”

“Wow! Nifemi mumbled.

“At 7pm, I heard a knock at the entrance door to my apartment.” She smiled,
“You know Bayo—he’s never late.”

Nifemi laughed, “Tell me about it.”

Uzo giggled, “I know right, you’ve had your own fair share of his overrated
promptness.”

“Fair huh?” Nifemi lamented. Bayo was the fellowship president while they were
in the University, and Nifemi was the vice president at the time. They were
opposite poles when it came to timekeeping. Nifemi was as tardy as could be.
The first two months of working with Bayo was a struggle for her, she was late
to almost every meeting and Bayo didn’t fail to express his disapproval privately
and publicly at every executive meeting. Nifemi laughed at the memory. It’s funny

42
how they ended up becoming very good friends even before he started dating
Uzo.

Uzo laughed. “I know what you are thinking. Those horrible two months!”

“Definitely can’t be forgotten.” Nifemi nodded, “Working with Bayo stretched me

so much. I’m glad I worked with him though—at least now I’m a punctual person.
Thanks to Bayo.”

Moyo smiled.

“Yea, I know.” Uzo nodded in agreement.

They both laughed.

“Can we go back to the engagement tale?” Moyo asked, bored with the digression.

Nifemi glared at her sister, “Seriously sis!”

Uzo giggled. “Okay. So, Bayo showed up at my door at exactly 7pm, all dressed
up in a well-tailored black tuxedo. Then, he drove me to his apartment.”

“Really?! You had dinner at his apartment?” Nifemi inquired.

Uzo nodded. “Yes. Because he was going to propose and he knew how much I
hate making news on social media.”

“Oh, I forgot. I can imagine. By this morning you would have been on all the
Nigerian blogs. ‘Billionaire business man’s last child-Uzo Okafor gets engaged to
her University sweetheart-Bayo Eniola.’”

They all laughed.

“Okay Nifemi, you are always making us go off the point. Let me complete the
tale already. Sister Moyo’s ears are tingling.”

They laughed again.

“So, we were welcomed by an endearing mixture of aromas as we entered his

apartment. The decoration in his living room had changed; there were so many
blue, white and pink roses, and all the lights were blue.”

“Aww… so romantic!” Moyo said, grinning.

“He held my hand and walked me to the dining table. It was a buffet of Italian
dishes.”

43
“Wow! Your favorite. Bayo is definitely a romantic man.” Nifemi commended.

“That he is. Wait until you watch the video.” Uzo said excitedly.

“Oh! Great! I’m glad the moment was captured.”

“It was. Bayo had cameras hidden in the living room.”

“I trust him. He doesn’t live out any element during planning and execution. He
always has everything figured out.”

“Hmm. You give him so much credit.” Uzo remarked.

“It’s the truth.” Nifemi said insistently.

Moyo coughed. “Come on, Nifemi. You are interrupting again.”

Nifemi giggled. She pointed at Uzo and pressed an imaginary remote button,
“play.”

They all laughed.

“Where did I stop?” Uzo asked.

“The buffet of Italian dishes.” Moyo responded.

“Oh right. He pulled out the chair and beckoned on me to sit. I did. Then, he
dished out the appetizer, which we enjoyed with half-filled glasses of non-
alcoholic Italian wine.”

“It was more like an Italian night!” Nifemi mentioned.

“You can say that again. After we gobbled down the starting meal, he served the
main meal, and then the dessert. Each meal was an unforgettable experience. I
had to ask if he had the foods imported from Italy.”

“Wow!” Moyo muttered and swallowed.

Nifemi laughed at her sister. “Did you have the feeling he was about to propose?”
She asked Uzo.

“Sure, I did. But I didn’t say anything, I just enjoyed the moment. After the
dessert, he walked me to the couch and told me to sit. He went over to his piano,
played a tune and then sang along. It was a song centered on the unfailing love
described in first Corinthians thirteen. I had never heard the song before. I later
got to know he composed the song—just for me.”

44
“Wow!” Moyo and Nifemi exclaimed in unison.

“By the time he was done singing, I already had tears on my eyes. Then, he
walked to where I was seated, brought out the ring from his pocket, went down
on one knee, and said, more than the lyrics of the song, he was going to spend
every day of his life acting out his love to me if I would let him be my husband. I
suddenly went down on my knees and kissed him for the first time since courting
him for four years. I just lost control of my emotions.”

“Wow! Moyo exclaimed and stared at her sister for agreement. She caught her
brushing tears from her eyes and smiled. Nifemi was really that emotional.

“He pulled back gently and searched my eyes. I knew he was tempted to kiss me
again, but he had to be in control at that moment, because I obviously wasn’t.
The initial plan was to save kissing for the altar, but I made us ruined that. He
slid the ring into my finger and kissed me on the forehead. He hugged me and I
held him tightly and didn’t want to let him go, until he whispered into my ear
how late it was and the need to get me home. Sincerely I was tempted to pass
the night at his house. I’m glad he didn’t let me do that.”

“Moyo smiled. “He’s a true man of God.”

“He is.” Uzo nodded.

Nifemi sniffed and hugged Uzo. “I’m so happy for you, best friend.”

“Thanks, Sweet… I never knew I was such a good story teller though. Imagine, I
even got you crying.”

They all laughed.

45
 CHAPTER FIVE

PAUL PULLED his car to a halt at the front of Hallopins Hotel. Nifemi’s legs shook
as she got down from her brother in-law’s car. Her palm had been sweaty since
leaving the house that morning, and her heart was beating really fast. She had
been excited about the job offer since seeing the appointment letter. She wasn’t
in doubt of her cooking skills. Her fear was the scrutinizing eyes of the Manager
and the other people that would watch her cook and judge her afterwards. She
was scared she would get so nervous and then break things or add too much
salt to the food.

“Nifemi!” Her brother in-law called out as she was about closing the door. “You
can do this. Don’t be scared.”

She let out a sigh and nodded with a faint smile. “Thanks, big brother.”

Paul nodded. “Call me when you are done.”

“After the verdict, you meant.”

Paul laughed. “Whatever—I’m sure it’s going to be in your favor.”

“I kind of believe it will.” Nifemi said, sounding unsure.

“Hey, you don’t sound convinced. You know what? If you don’t believe in
yourself,” he pointed at the large hotel, “neither will they.”

Nifemi bit her lower lip.

“Do yourself a favor. Start believing that God has already given that job to you.
It’s already yours.” Paul held out his hand and Nifemi shook it firmly. “Now go
wow those guys!”

She grinned and closed the door.

Paul turned on the ignition and waved at her as he drove away.

46
She straightened her dress, took a deep breath and walked to the gate. Uzo had
bought her the dress, shoes and the cologne she was wearing when they went
shopping on Saturday. She had jokingly said they all spark confidence. She could
really use a good dose of confidence right now. This was her dream job and she
wouldn’t let fear get in her way. Her confidence didn’t come from things she was
putting on; Her confidence stemmed from the Holy Spirit living on the inside of
her. She pulled out her phone and opened her Bible app; she read out Proverbs
14:26a in the Passion Translation—Confidence and strength flood the
hearts of the lovers of God who live in awe of Him. “My heart is flooded
with confidence and strength, there is no room in my heart for fear and
timidity, because I love God, and I live in awe of Him.” She spoke those words
to herself a few times, then raised up her head and knocked at the gate.

A security man glared at her through the peephole and then opened the gate.
“Hello madam.”

“Hello sir. I’m here for an interview.”

“May I see your invite?”

“Sure.” Nifemi said and pulled out the letter from her hand bag. She handed it
to the security man.

He unfolded it, glared at the hotel’s seal, and handed it back to Nifemi. “You may
come in.” he motioned with his head and locked up the gate after Nifemi went
inside. “That is the administrative office,” he pointed to a lone two-story building.
“Show the receptionist your appointment letter and she will direct you to the
appropriate office.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Nifemi walked to the administrative building, avoiding the

temptation to look down. She took a deep breath before entering the building.
"Good morning," she said to the receptionist.

The receptionist looked up from her computer, "Good morning, madam." Her
smile was so endearing, it helped to put Nifemi at ease.

Nifemi wondered if the smile came natural to her or she was just doing her job.
"My name is Nifemi. I was scheduled for an interview today."

"Oh, Miss Nifemi. The Manager is expecting you. He's in the third office by your
left." The receptionist pointed to the hallway.

47
"Thank you." Nifemi said with a grin as she marched towards the hallway. She
silently counted the number of doors by her left until she got to the third office.
The placard on the door read "Operations Manager." She nodded and knocked.
"Come on in." She heard a voice said from inside the office. She opened the door
gently, "Good Morning Sir."

The manager flashed her a grin. "Good morning ma'am."

Okay, he seems like a nice person. Nifemi thought as she walked towards the
manager's table. "My name is Nifemi Kitan."

"Oh, you're Chef Nifemi. Please sit." The Manager said, pointing to the seat across
his desk.

"Thank you, sir." Nifemi said, as she took the seat. She felt even more at ease.
No one except her sister had ever addressed her as a Chef. The Manager must
really think highly of her. She prayed a thanksgiving prayer to God.

"So, Miss Kitan—" the manager eyed her ring finger. "I'm guessing you're a Miss,
since I see no ring on your finger."

Nifemi smiled. "I'm not married sir.

"I see." The Manager nodded. "How would you rather I addressed you? Chef Nife
or Miss Kitan?"

Nifemi chuckled. "I kind of like the sound of Chef Nife."

"Chef Nife it is. Let's cut to the chase. I was impressed by your cooking videos,
and my brother told me a lot about your exceptional cooking skills. I also saw
your résumé. So, you did a one-year culinary course in both local and
intercontinental cuisines?"

"Yes sir." Though I've not had any platform to cook professionally, I've been doing
a lot of practice at home. I also have a few recipes of my own."

The Manager smiled. "I'm aware of that. However, you still must cook before our
recruiting panel. And that would be me and the Head Chef."

"No problems sir."

"Good! We'll be heading to the kitchen in five minutes."

"Very well sir."

48
The Manager smiled and returned his attention to the computer screen.

Nifemi shuddered at the vibration of her phone. She pulled out the phone from
her handbag and observed the screen. It was an SMS from DARASIMI—her once
upon a time best friend. It had been a while since she heard from him. They were
inseparable back in secondary school. Their classmates and even some of the
teachers usually joked about them being a couple. But life happened; Nifemi got
admitted into the University of Ibadan, while Darasimi kept writing the
University Matriculation Exam until three years later when he got admitted into
the University of Abuja. Distance had created a barrier to their friendship. Nifemi
couldn’t even remember the last time they saw each other. She had to give it to
Darasimi for always trying to keep contact with her despite her own
nonchalance. She smiled as she read through the message. Just the words she
needed. Dara must be an angel. She read through the text one more time; "Just
thinking about you, dearest friend. Don't give fear a thought, for God has
not given you the spirit of fear. What He has given you is the Spirit of love,
power and a sound mind. Nifemi, you are beautiful, powerful, lovely and
smart. The whole world awaits your manifestation... Don’t be deterred.
I'm missing my best friend." She smiled again.

The Manager glanced at her and stood up. "Okay, Chef Nife. Let's head to the
kitchen."

***

Nifemi wiped the sweat off her forehead with her handkerchief as she puts off
the gas. She replaced the handkerchief back in her apron pocket. The test given
to her was to cook a two-course lunch for a Bank Managing Director who was
meeting up with a proposed investor later that day. The white investor was a
vegetarian, who liked spaghetti and sweet potato. She’d made sweet potato pie
for dessert and then scrutinized the food items in the kitchen, searching her
mind for ideas of what to cook for the main meal. She’d made a mental note of
the exact meal to cook with a mental picture of how she would want it to look on
a plate. She had picked up some mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, spinach, and
parsley amongst others.

49
The Manager and Head chef observed keenly as she diced, sliced, fried and finally
tossed in the spaghetti. The outcome was explicitly yummy and a taste of the
meal surely got them wowed.

“You are really something! Aren’t you?!” the manager said astounded. “Just
where have you been?! This is talent!”

Nifemi was so flushed she didn’t know what to say.

“You are a genius! To think that you would put this together even though you
haven’t had any professional platform is remarkable. The Head Chef
commended. “Come over here.” He motioned to the three other chefs who were
engrossed in their own cooking. “You guys need to taste this.”

Nifemi was given a hearty welcome by the chefs and the Manager. Afterwards,
she went with the manager to his office to discuss her resumption date and
salary. The Manger granted her request to resume in two weeks, and her monthly
take-home was N120, 000.00. She had every reason to be grateful to God. The
new job paid four times her teaching job, and finally she would be paid for what
she enjoyed doing. Her phone vibrated as she walked out of the manager’s office.

She answered the call and pressed the phone to her ear, “Hello Dara!” She
exclaimed excitedly.

“Okay. It appears I called in a good time. You are in high spirit. Did you miss me
that much?” Dara queried.

“Sure, I missed you. But that isn’t the reason I’m excited.”

“Ouch! You just broke my heart!” Dara joked.

“Thanks for the text. It came right on time.”

“It did? Tell me about it.”

“Well,” Nifemi nodded at the security man as she stepped outside the gate, “I was
about to be interviewed in a steaming room when your text came in.”

“Really? That’s weird! Who gets interviewed in a steaming room?” Dara teased.

“Chefs!” Nifemi retorted. “Remember?”

“Oh, pardon me Chef Nife.”

“You sound like my new boss.” Nifemi chuckled.

50
“I supposed it was a successful interview.”

“It was, Dara. I finally get to work as a chef. I’m so excited.

“I’m so happy for you, dear. Congratulations on your new job.

“Thank you, my friend. Where are you though?” Nifemi probed.

“I’m in Lagos.” Dara replied giggling

“You are kidding!” Nifemi barked.

“I’m for real.”

“Seriously! How long have you been in Lagos? Nifemi questioned, rolling her eyes.

“Come on now, don’t roll your eyes. I only arrived in Lagos yesterday.”

Nifemi laughed. “You still know me so well huh?”

“I’ve known you for eighteen years remember?” Dara teased.

“Don’t even get me started on that. So, where exactly are you?”

“Right now, I’m at Maryland.” Dara replied.

“Are you for real?!” I’m at Anthony at the moment. My new workplace is close to
Anthony.”

“No way!” Dara cried out in excitement.

“Yes way!” Nifemi giggled.

“Please tell me you’ve not left the bus-stop.” Dara begged.

“Well, not if you get here in five minutes.

“I’m on my way now. I can’t wait to see you!” He said excitedly.

Nifemi chuckled as she took the phone away from her ear. She tried to recall the
last time she saw Dara. Four years?

***

Dara pulled over ten minutes later. He literally swept Nifemi off her feet, holding
her tight in a hug that lasted for a minute.

51
Passers-by and other people at the bus-stop stared at the twosome in
amusement, and Nifemi was very much aware of their glare.

"Dara, please put me down." She begged. She heaved a sigh of relief and
straightened her dress. She observed her friend from head to feet. "You haven’t
changed a bit!"

"Thank you." Dara replied, admiring her.

Nifemi chuckled. "Actually, that wasn’t a complement."

"Well I'm determined to take it as one." He said with a grin. "You look prettier
and sophisticated, I must commend."

"Thanks. But can we get out of here already?"

Dara smiled. "Some things haven’t changed huh? You're still shy." He teased as
he opened the passenger's door for her. He hurried over to the driver's side.

"I'm not shy." She defended.

Dara giggled and stole glances at her. "I really missed you. You have no idea how
happy I am right now to be sitting beside you."

"I missed you too. You kind of look more handsome than the last time I saw you."
Nifemi said, ruffling his hair.

He giggled. "I'm driving, remember?"

"And since when did my touch start making you lose focus. She jested and ruffled
his hair the more.

***

The twosome laughed heartily as they caught up on each other's life over a drink.

"I see you had an adventurous time serving your father land." Nifemi
commended.

"I sure did. I'm thankful I could make an impact in the lives of those kids. It
gladdens my heart to know that a lot of them now have the right perspective to
life. It's a good thing I didn't influence my posting to a city. Else, I wouldn't have
had the opportunity to meet those great minds hiding behind rural setting”

52
Nifemi smiled. I'm so proud of you. I wish every Nigerian graduate will embark
on their one-year compulsory national youth service with the aim to impact and
improve lives."

"That’s right. I wouldn't trade that one year for anything. Thanks for inspiring
me."

Nifemi glared at him. "I inspired you?"

"Yes, you did." Dara smiled. "Remember four years ago, during your service year,
I was impressed when you told me some of the voluntary services you were giving
those students to make them more focused on God, their education and their
future."

"Oh right." She said, dropping her head.

Dara touched her hand lightly from across the table. "Are you alright? Your
countenance dropped suddenly."

She raised her head slightly. "How disappointed those girls would be if they got
to know about some of the scandals I got myself into after service year. I feel like
a hypocrite. I sure didn't practice what I preached. I taught them to wait, believe
in God and have self-respect. But guess what... I got tired of waiting, I gave up
my self-respect, and I compromised my values and standards for a mirage,
something that only looked like love on the surface.

Dara squeezed her hands gently. "Don’t be hard on yourself. We all make
mistakes, but God’s love for us remains. “He brushed away the tears from her
right cheek.

Nifemi sniffed. "But I should have known better than let my emotions rule me."

"Come on now, Nife, God wasn't shocked by the poor choices you made. He
wasn't surprised when you decided it was okay to compromise and lower your
standards. He knew such day would come when He promised to love you
unconditionally and forever. He never left you, but kept washing you with His
words, hoping that someday you would come back to Him." He smiled, "You see,
He got you back."

Nifemi smiled and stared into his eyes. "I'm glad He got me back. I hope I never
mess up again."

53
He chuckled. "Trust me, you will. But God is committed to keep on pruning you,
so you can bear more fruits that will last forever. He loves you that much."

Nifemi sighed. "I'm so undeserving of His love."

Dara stared deeper into her eyes. "We all are. That’s why He is love. Love gives
without reservation even when He gets nothing back."

She gently disentangled her hands from his and shifted her gaze to the drink on
the table. She picked up the bottle and took a few sips, avoiding his eyes. But
she could still feel his gaze on her. She placed the bottle back on the table and
leaned forward. "Okay this is weird. Why are you staring at me like that?" She
whispered.

"So sorry. I'm just awed by this excellent masterpiece of God." He whispered
back.

"Okay, but you're making me feel awkward” She whispered again.

Dara shrugged. "I just can't help it. You are too beautiful to resist."

She chuckled. "Somethings never change uhn! You still have a sweet tongue."

He pulled her nose playfully.

Nifemi laughed. "Gosh! You're still very playful too."

54
 CHAPTER SIX

NIFEMI UNTIED her apron and heaved a sigh. She hung it on one of the apron
hangers in the large hotel kitchen. It'd been a month since she started her new
job. The kitchen was generously furnished with all the utensils and equipment
needed to make cooking fun for any chef, and Nifemi wasn't an exception. She
enjoyed her work, and had good relationship with her colleagues in the kitchen,
except Tosin who seemed to think she had taken her place in the heart of the
Head Chef.

Tosin used to be the Head Chef's favourite, but Nifemi had been bestowed with
that honour. Not that she wanted it. She had been busy doing her job and taking
with humility and professionalism whatever special task was assigned to her by
the Head Chef. Tosin needed not verbalise her hatred towards Nifemi, it was
written all over her, and even the other chefs weren’t unaware of that fact—Tosin
visibly burned with envy.

Nifemi walked past three chefs as she strolled towards the chef's locker room.
She stopped by Kelvin who seemed quite immersed in his cooking, and gave him
a nudge on the arm. Kelvin was the warmest of the chefs. He knew how to lighten
the atmosphere and make everyone relaxed whenever they were under pressure.

"Hey!" Kelvin exclaimed with a smile as he added some seasoning to the pot of
boiling potatoes.

"Hey Chef." Nifemi replied with a grin directed to the food. "How are the potatoes
coming?"

"Lip-smacking I presume. I mean, they just have to be."

Nifemi grinned. "Yea right."

"Are you set to leave?" Kelvin asked.

55
"Yes. Uzo would be here any moment from now." She replied. She had taken
permission to close at 1pm that day. Uzo was having her introduction party the
next weekend—Bayo and his family would be officially introducing themselves to
Uzo’s family before the wedding which had been proposed to hold in two months.
The wedding was one of those crucial topics that would be discussed at the
introduction. Uzo needed to do some shopping and had pleaded with her best
friend to go along with her.

"I'll see you tomorrow then.” Kelvin said, and returned his attention to his
cooking.

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her trouser pocket. It was a message
from Uzo- 'I'm at the lobby.'

"I'd better get going. Uzo is here already."

Kelvin nodded with a smile, wiping his palms with a napkin.

Nifemi hurried to the locker. She brushed her hair, added a little make-up,
swung her handbag on the shoulder and rushed back to the kitchen. "Bye chefs."
She said as she paced to the exit door.

"Bye." All the chefs, except Tosin said almost in unison.

Tosin glowered at Nifemi as she exited the kitchen, and then returned her
attention to her pot of couscous.

"Have fun." Kelvin added.

"I'll try." Nifemi called out. She found Uzo in the lobby and they made their way
to the parking lot after a quick hug.

"Your cologne is a mixture of food aromas." Uzo teased as they entered her car.

"Oh my gosh!" Nifemi laughed. She took out a perfume bottle from her bag and
spewed some over her body. They talked about the places they needed to go and
the items they would be shopping for as Uzo drove onto the driveway and out of
the hotel. They needed to first stop at the fashion designer's place to collect her
outfit for the introduction party and to confirm the level of work done on the
bride's maids’ clothes.

Uzo’s two older siblings lived outside the country, so the wedding planning was
up to her, her mom and the hired wedding planner. She only had a few things to

56
take care of, as her mom and the wedding planner were taking charge of ninety
percent of the planning.

Uzo would have worn some of her old accessories and shoes for the introduction
party, but her mom had vehemently objected. "My baby, this is the beginning of
a new chapter in your life and it should be characterised by new things." She had
said, and even insisted she bought new undies too. Yes, they had the money, but
Uzo wasn't the type to spend superfluously, which was one of the reasons she
had insisted on having her first degree in Nigeria and at a federal university at
that. She was also making plans to set up an interior designs company and an
NGO that would take youths off the street and help guide them to finding
purpose for their lives. She would rather spend money on those. Nonetheless,
she had given in to her mom's wish this last time she hoped.

***

After three hours of shopping, Nifemi and Uzo used up another two hours in the
salon, getting their hair fixed and some mani-pedi done.

They finally pulled over at the front of WENDY'S Eatery at about 7pm looking
ravishing but feeling wacked.

Bayo had been waiting for them at the eatery. He walked to the car and opened
the door for Uzo. "Wow!" He said and swallowed as they hugged briefly. He shut
the car door, but still appeared to be only conscious of Uzo’s presence, clearly
smitten. "I'm lost for words." He finally added, staring admirably at her.

"Why?" Uzo asked, beaming.

"How did I manage to win your heart? You seem to have it all, my love. A beautiful
heart and an endearing look!"

Uzo smiled. "And you seem to have forgotten I have flaws too."

Bayo held her hands delicately like he was holding eggs. He gazed deeply into
her eyes and smiled at the tenderness in them. He could see himself in her cute
brown eyes. This woman truly loved him and he loved her more than himself. He
couldn’t wait to make her his. "Your strengths outweigh your flaws. I love you so
much, Uzo."

57
Uzo pulled him close and they hugged tightly, feeling so at home in each other’s'
arms, and oblivious to the stare of passers-by and Nifemi who was beginning to
feel a bit jealous of the kind of love they shared. It was so obvious that Bayo
adored her friend. He was so much in love with her. No man had ever treated
Nifemi with that much affection. That kind of love had only been present in her
imagination. But standing there, staring at Bayo and Uzo still glued to each
other, Nifemi was convinced such love truly exists. But she doubted she would
be lucky enough to experience it. She decided it wasn't right to be jealous of her
friend. Uzo was a great person and deserved this kind of love. She was happy for
her. She cleared her throat and walked towards them, causing them to finally
disentangle. "Guys, it’s just two months from now and you can choose to be in
each other’s' arms all through the night. But right now, we need to be in that
restaurant. I'm starving—for food!"

They all laughed.

Bayo gave Nifemi a brief hug, finally conscious of her presence. "I'm so sorry
dear."

Nifemi chuckled. "No problems."

"And thanks for helping out." He added, as they entered the restaurant.

Nifemi shook her head. "Don't mention it at all. It's my pleasure. Uzo is my
blood."

Uzo squeezed Nifemi’s hand tenderly and they smiled at each other as Bayo
finally sighted an empty table in the large and busy restaurant and led them to
it. He pulled out two chairs at the same time. He waited for the two ladies to
settle on their seats before taking the seat opposite his fiancé.

A waiter immediately walked to their table to take their orders. They scanned
through the menu and made their orders. The waiter disappeared, and another
waiter immediately emerged, bearing three glasses of Chapman with orange
wedges. She had a broad smile laced on her face as she served them. "Have a
good evening." She said as she turned and walked away from the table, trying so
hard to wiggle her tiny waist.

"I'm so sorry for crashing your dinner." Nifemi said, placing her empty tumbler
gently on the table after downing the whole drink.

58
Uzo scowled at her. "Are you kidding me?"

"You need not be sorry, Nifemi. This dinner was planned with you in the picture."
Bayo added, taking a few sips of his own Chapman.

"Thanks guys." Nifemi removed the orange wedge and bit into it.

The waiter arrived with their orders. They all ordered the same meal- steak with
vegetable salad and couscous.

Bayo swallowed at the aroma from the food.

They enjoyed their dinner as they talked more about the introduction and how
the fact that both Bayo's and Uzo’s parents resided in Ibadan was such a huge
blessing for them. They had peach-pie with sour cream for dessert and then got
up to leave. Nifemi’s handbag hit a tumbler as she got up and the tumbler
trundled off the table, shattering into pieces as it landed. She felt so self-
conscious she couldn’t move for a few moments. She didn’t dare to look, knowing
all eyes would be on her. How could she be so clumsy? She thought to distract
herself and hastily bent down to pick up the pieces of glass. Bayo and Uzo tried
to stop her, but she was too embarrassed to even look at them.

The restaurant Manager-DENNIS and a waiter hurried to the scene.

“We’ve got this ma’am.” Dennis said, as he pulled her up, while the waiter tried
to sweep the glass pieces onto a packer.

Nifemi poured the glass pieces in her hand onto the packer and noticed a cut on
her palm.

Dennis was staring at her face the whole time, trying to recall her name.

“Nife, you have a cut!” Uzo cried.

“Yes! Nifemi!” Dennis called out.

Nifemi looked up at the young man and immediately recalled his name.
“Dennis?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He said, grinning. “Wow! It’s so good to see you.” He stretched his
right arm for a handshake.

Nifemi looked from her right palm to Dennis. “My palm is bloodstained.”

59
“Oh, let’s get that cleaned up.” He held her left hand and walked her to his office.
He gently cleaned up the cut with a cotton wool dipped in methylated spirit and
then put a tiny plaster on it.

“Thank you.” Nifemi said with a half-smile. “It’s good to see you again. So, you
work here?”

“Yes. I’m the Manager here.” Dennis said proudly.

“I see.” Nifemi stared at him in admiration, not because he was the restaurant
Manager, but because he was still as fine-looking as ever.

Dennis tilted his head slightly, making eye contact with her. He had a smirk on
his face. “You look gorgeous, I must commend.”

She subconsciously bit her lip. “Thank you. I really need to get going now. I
almost forgot my friends are waiting.”

“Oh sure. May I have your number?”

They exchanged mobile numbers and Dennis walked her back.

She gave Bayo and Uzo an apologetic look “I’m so sorry, guys.” She introduced
Dennis to them and vice-versa.

Nifemi suggested taking an Uber ride home, but Bayo insisted he would drop her
off at her sister’s place, then drive Uzo to her apartment, and afterwards, he
would take an Uber ride home.

Dennis walked them all to the car, her eyes on Nifemi the whole time. All Uzo
could see on Dennis’ face was lust and she took a mental note to warn Nifemi to
be wary of this sensual dude with a fine face.

***

It was 9.32pm when they arrived at Nifemi’s place.

“I’m really sorry about the awkward moment at the restaurant. I should have
been more careful.” She said as the car came to a halt at the front of the gate.

Uzo swivelled and grimaced at her from the front seat. “Don’t beat yourself,
Nifemi. That could have happened to anyone.”

60
Nifemi nodded and chuckled. “Okay.”

“I love you.” Uzo added playfully and blew her a kiss.

“I love you more.” Nifemi whispered.

“And I love you most.” Uzo whispered back, giggling.

Nifemi squeezed Uzo’s shoulder and alighted from the car. “Drive carefully,
Bayo.”

“I will.”

“Have a refreshing night, guys.” Nifemi added as she alighted from the car.

Uzo waved as the car began to move.

Nifemi waved back and then brought out her phone to call her sister to come
open the gate. She was about dialling her sister’s number when she heard a
screeching sound from the gate. The gate opened, and one of her neighbours
strolled out. They exchanged greetings.

“Are you going far?” She asked him.

“Not at all. I just want to wait for someone.” The middle-aged man replied.

“Okay then. Have a good night.”

“Thank you.” The neighbour responded.

Everyone, except Moyo had slept at the time Nifemi got to their apartment. Even
Moyo’s eyes were already looking heavy. She had been struggling to keep them
open by watching one of her favourite Christian channel. She turned off the TV
as soon as she opened the door for Nifemi. “Nai night.” She said as she walked
to her room.

“Have a good night, sis.” Nifemi turned off the lights in the living room and put
on the flash light of her phone as she made her way to her bedroom. She set her
hand bag and shopping bag on the table. She had gotten a few things for herself,
but Uzo had insisted on paying, and she knew better than argue with her. She
took off her clothes and quickly took a cold shower. She dressed in one of her
micky-mouse pyjamas. Yes, she was twenty-seven and liked micky mouse. She
bounced on the bed. She was exhausted. It had been a long day. She hugged one
of the pillows and began to recall the whole drama that transpired at the

61
restaurant. She frowned at the humiliating moment as it played out all over in
her head. If only she had been more watchful. She hated putting herself in the
position where all eyes would peer at her, worst still when she got gawky. She
remembered Dennis and smiled. He was like her knight in shining Armor,
coming to save her from one of the most awkward moments in her life, and then
tending gently to her wound. To think that she would bump into Dennis
Richmond and he would actually take notice of her.

Dennis belonged to the big boy’s caucus while they were at the university
campus. They were course mates. Nifemi had a crush on him in their freshman
year, though they never talked to each other all through their years in school.
Dennis didn’t associate himself with the likes of her. Dennis was the seamless
depiction of a male model; he was six feet plus, broad-chested, had a fair
complexion with curly hairs on his head that made him look like a half-caste.
The dimple on his right cheek could be likened to the icing on a cake, leaving a
lingering smile on his angular cheekbones. Her mouth curled into a smile. Wait!
Why was she thinking so much of him? And even smiling about it? Don’t even think
of it. Dennis wasn’t born again—at least not the last time she checked. What if he
was born again now? It had been almost five years, and a lot of things might have
changed. Some things have indeed changed. Dennis actually looked into her eyes,
smiled at her and tended to her wound. What if he liked her? He looked and acted
more matured too.

She heard her ringing tone from the top of her table and got up promptly. She
picked up the phone. Just whom she was hoping would call. She pressed the
phone to her ear. “Dennis?”

“What? You didn’t think I would call?”

“No—yes—I mean not tonight and so late I supposed.”

“Okay. My bad. I’m sorry for calling so late—"

“No, it’s fine.” Nifemi assured him.

“I only got home a few moments ago. I was hoping I would be able to catch you
before you slept off.” Dennis said.

“Well, you did catch me. I’m still wide awake.”

62
“Hmm. So, what kept you up till this time? Thoughts of me?” He asked
arrogantly.

“Ugh! You almost got me swayed. You are still very full of yourself, Dennis!”

“Hey, don’t be cruel—I was only teasing you.”

“Right.” Nifemi said, dropping it.

“How is the cut?”

Nifemi looked at her plastered palm and sat on the bed. “It’s fine. It was just a
tiny cut, plus, you did a good job on it.”

Dennis chuckled “I hope you got back home in one piece?”

“I did. And thanks for earlier.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m kind of happy I bumped into you today.”

Nifemi chuckled. “You’ve got to be kidding me. We weren’t even friends back in
school.”

“True. But, what if I told you I once had a crush on you in school.” Kelvin
revealed.

“I’m going to laugh at that.” Nifemi said, laughing hard. She heard a knock on
the door and then her sister’s voice telling her to keep it down.

“Come on Dennis. You really cracked me up. How could you have possibly liked
me…we were worlds apart.” She said in a low tone.

“I know it’s funny. The social wall between us kept me from getting close. I mean,
you were all churchy with a zero-social life. My friends would make fun of me if
I had gotten close to you. I just couldn’t handle that…that was the reason I
buried my feelings. I’m sorry about that.”

Nifemi sighed. “You don’t have to apologise. I understand.”

“I’m grateful for another chance.” Dennis said.

“Whatever that means. I really need to hang up now.” Nifemi said, pretending to
be clueless of what he meant.

“Okay then. I will just call you tomorrow. Do you mind?”

63
“Yes—sorry, no. I don’t—mind.” Nifemi responded, tripping over her tongue. It
was all too good to take in. She wasn’t dreaming. Dennis Richmond had a thing
for her.

“Have a great night, Nifemi”

“And you too. Dennis.”

“Do you mind dreaming of me?” He asked, tittering.

“Okay, that I mind.”

Kelvin laughed. “Expect my call tomorrow. Bye for now.”

The line went off, and Nifemi clutched her phone close to her chest as she laid
on her back. Eyes closed, she grinned from ear to ear. Her phone buzzed. She
briskly glanced at the screen, expecting to see a message from Dennis, it was
Uzo instead. A bit disappointed, she opened the message and sighed. “Such a
kill joy!” she read the message aloud, “Hey girl. Thanks for earlier… Be cautious
of that guy…what’s his name? Dennis?” Nifemi shook her head. It’s so easy for
Uzo to say. After all, she had everything going for her. A loving and rich family,
a fulfilling and well-paying job, a godly, good-looking and purposeful man who
adored her. Doesn’t she deserve some happiness in her own life? Sometimes, her
stomach churns at Uzo’s opinionated way of thinking she knew what was best
for her. Yes, she was a great person and all. But, she needed to learn to retain
her opinion to herself until it was sought. She hissed and shifted her thoughts
to Dennis until she finally drifted to sleep.

64
 CHAPTER SEVEN

THE CLOUDS seemed to be having some gathering as Nifemi got down from the
airplane at the Local airport, Ikeja. She looked exhausted, not as a result of the
thirty minutes’ flight from Ibadan to Lagos, but from the whole stress that came
with the introduction party. She hoped it wouldn’t rain until she got home. She
was at Uzo’s beck and call all through the weekend. So much, for a would-be
maid-of-honor. She wondered what would be left of her after the actual wedding.
Uzo was demanding, taking her wherever she went like a Siamese twins—the
rest room included. And NO, she didn’t go into the toilet with her, but waited
and guarded the entrance until she was out. It was her first time being a maid-
of-honour, so she had no prior knowledge of the responsibilities that came with
it. She made a mental note to not be a maid-of-honour to anyone going forward.
Well, not that she had another close female friend that was unmarried. She
sighed as she sighted Dennis finding his way to her in the lobby. Yes, Dennis!
He couldn’t stop calling and chatting her all through the weekend. Nifemi was
enjoying the attention, and though Uzo had tried to warn her one more time, she
had turned her off, saying she would rather not talk about it.

Dennis drew closer, his mouth half opened in a smile. His dark curly hair shone
like polished silver. He wore a long-sleeved fitted navy-blue shirt neatly rolled up
to reveal his strong biceps. His broad shoulders were also apparent. He must
have gotten used to the sudden pauses in some ladies’ natural expression when
they looked his way. "You're fine!" A lady exclaimed as he approached Nifemi. He
gave her a weak smile. "Hey" He said to Nifemi and gave her a hug. "How was
your flight?" He asked as he collected her suitcase.

Nifemi felt proud to be that lady who got his hug. "It was fine." She said with
broad smile plastered on her face.

"And the introduction party?"

"That was draining." She responded this time with a frown.

65
He smiled and collected her suitcase. "Well that's obvious. Let's get you out of
here."

Nifemi chuckled. "No, let's get you out of here."

Dennis grinned. "I don't understand."

"Really? Look around, most of the ladies are already drooling." She had managed
not to drool herself. The guy doesn’t only have a fine face, but a hot body too.
"They might pass out if you don’t leave already."

"Does that mean you are jealous?" He asked with a wink.

Nifemi frowned. "You wished."

"Come on." He motioned with his head and held her hand as they strolled to the
parking lot.

Nifemi’s heart leaped at his touch. She worked her fingers through his. Dennis
shot her a smile when their fingers intertwined.

Bombarded by a mixture of emotions as she rode in Dennis’ car, she wondered

if it was right getting so attached to him just within four days of meeting him
again. More so, her feelings weren’t hidden from him. Dennis had insisted on
picking her up from the airport since he lived close. She eyed the sky through
the windscreen—it was tar-black, and large clouds were moving toward them.
She heard some tapping on the windscreen, and then a pitter-platter. Dennis
tried to put on the windscreen wipers, but they were stiff and let out a screech.

"Geez!" He exclaimed. "I'd planned to change the wipers later today."

The rainfall became more intense, a wall of rain moved over the car, drumming
over the front screen. Dennis rubbed the windscreen with his forearm to clear
the fog.

Nifemi stared at him and shook her head unbelievably. She pulled out a
handkerchief from her purse and wiped the fog.

"I'm so sorry about this." Dennis gave her an apologetic look.

Nifemi nodded. "It’s okay. As long as we make it through the rain in one piece—
"

66
The car jerked when it hit the back bumper of the car right in front of them. The
driver honked loudly, causing Nifemi to quickly push her fingers into her ears.

The traffic was beginning to build up.

Dennis glanced at her. "I have an idea." He rubbed his palm over the windscreen
again.

Nifemi pulled out her fingers from her ears as he saw his lips moved. "Did you
say something?”

"Yes. I’m thinking since my apartment is just the next turn from here, we can
stay put there until the rain stops. That’s if it's okay by you."

Stop by his house! What was this guy planning? Lips sealed, she stared at him
under widened eyes.

Dennis chuckled. "Hey, don’t look at me like I'm going to devour you once we
arrived at my place. It wasn't like I planned for this to happen."

Nifemi didn’t say a word. Hundreds of what-ifs were racing through her mind.

Dennis covered the back of her palm. "I promise to be a gentle man."

She held his blue eyes and couldn’t utter a word. Desires rushed through her
soul. She tightened her second hand into a fist. She couldn’t promise to be a
gentle lady. The thought of being alone with Dennis behind closed doors made
her fear for her life. What was this? LOVE OR LUST?

The car behind them blared its horn crazily. They didn't realize the traffic had
begun moving. She quickly looked away as Dennis took away his hand and
returned his attention to the road.

Nifemi cleaned the fog repeatedly as they drove quietly to Dennis's apartment.
The rainfall had become even heavier. None of them said a word to each other.

***

Dennis retrieved an umbrella from the back seat after finding a parking space in
his compound. He told her to stay put as he pushed open the large umbrella and
got down from the car.

Nifemi surveyed the well-trimmed green and yellow lawns which combined with
the German floor and the emerald green painting on the wall, giving the

67
compound a magnificent look. Dennis hurried to her side with an umbrella and
opened the door for her. He pressed the lock button on the car remote control
and held her close as they walked toward the front porch. He closed the umbrella
and held her hand while they climbed the stairs.

The door opened to a white painted open kitchen-living room. The white sofas
were arrayed in an L-shape with neatly organized triangular red and white throw
pillows, a large shinning shelf containing a forty-five inches TV with lots of
drawers below it, well arranged books and portraits. The large shelf closed at one
end of the sofas, giving the living room a U-shaped arrangement with a glass
centre table. She sighted a beautiful large portrait of her role model in the
restaurant business. She moved closer and ran her fingers over the portrait.

"You have no idea how much I adore this beautiful and smart woman- WENDY
RICHMOND...Oh, I almost forgot you work for her. Her success in the food
business is one to be reckoned with."

Dennis grinned. "Not just that...she happens to be my mother."

She stared at him in surprise. "Are you serious?!"

Dennis giggled and nodded.

She looked from him to the portrait. "Now I see the resemblance. Doesn’t she
have a European heritage?"

Dennis nodded. "My grandma is European. You seem to know a lot about my
mom though."

"Well, I follow her on social media and I frequent her blog. There was a period
she blogged about her mom's European recipes."

"Yes, my grandma was a chef too."

"I see. So, it runs in the family—How come I never knew you were her son
though?"

"My mom keeps her family off social media, plus I'm her only child."

"Hmm—you know, I even thought she was single."

"Well, she's a single mom. My dad passed on when I was five."

"I'm so sorry about that."

68
He shrugged. "That was a long time ago. They started the restaurant business
together. She dedicated herself completely to the business after my dad passed,
and I gave her a hard time growing up."

Nifemi smiled at him. "She must be pleased with you now."

He chuckled. "She would be more pleased if I got married and started having
kids."

Nifemi walked to the kitchen area. It had well-polished wooden cupboards

arraigned on the floor and hanging on the wall. On one of the floor cupboards,
close to a large wash-basin were a modern microwave, virtual blender and a
coffee maker. The double-door fridge and large oven gave the kitchen a look of
both excellence and perfection. An average sized dining table with four high
chairs separated the kitchen area from the living room. The whole apartment
smelled like home.

"Wow!" Nifemi exclaimed. She climbed one of the high chairs and climbed down.
She opened the cabinets, one after the other. They were packed with glass wares,
kitchen bowls, food items and other kitchen utensils. She frowned at Dennis.
"Are you a divorcee?!"

Dennis chuckled. "No, I’m not."

Nifemi gestured with her hands. "Who pulled all this together? Don't tell me your
mom did."

"True. She didn’t. My ex-girlfriend did. She is an interior designer."

"Oh, that explains this…So why did you guys break up?"

Dennis sighed. "She wanted more."

"More what?" She asked, searching his eyes for clarification.

"More commitment—we lived together for a year—she wanted us to get married.

But I wasn’t ready”

Nifemi took a deep breath and stared into his eyes. "And now?"

"She got married and left the country with her husband."

"So, are you ready to get married now?'

Dennis looked away. "I don't know."

69
She turned to go back to the living room area, but suddenly hit her smallest toe
against the dining table. "Ouch!" She cried in pain.

"What is it?" Dennis rushed close as she held her leg up in the air. He pulled her
into his strong arms and carried her to the sofa.

Nifemi could hear the slow successions of his heartbeat. She breathed in his
fragrance and it went straight into her head, reacting with her brain cells to
produce something she couldn’t figure out at that moment. She fought the urge
to put her arms around him.

Dennis placed her gently on the sofa and bent over to massage her toe. She had
momentarily forgotten the pain. She let out a cry and tried to pull away her leg.
Dennis rushed to the drawer and brought out an ointment. He applied a little on
her toe and massaged it gently. Nifemi closed her eyes and let out a painful cry
within clenched teeth. He looked up at her; her black fringed hairstyle covered
the whole of her forehead, making her oblong light face and pointed nose even
more captivating. She opened her eyes and caught him staring at her. Her eyes,
her lips, all at once smiled back at him. Her beauty was even more enchanting.
The corners of his mouth slid upwards. He dropped her leg gently, stood up and
leaned closer. Her black eyes shone brighter under her thick hair, and pierced
through his soul; she still had that look of innocence he had always admired.

Nifemi remained static as he drew closer. There was a rush of heat over her face.
"I'm sorry." She muttered.

Bewildered by her apologies. Dennis smoothened her hair softly with his fingers
and whispered, "What are you sorry for?"

"For being so clumsy earlier. I wouldn't have hit my toe if I was careful enough."
She said in a low voice; she got weaker and overwhelmed with desires as he
worked his fingers through her scalp.

Dennis sat beside her. He pulled her head close in an embrace, pressing her hair
gently against her nape.

Nifemi put her arms around his strong shoulders and moved one hand up and
down his biceps.

He pushed her hair to one side and whispered into her ear. "Stop being hard on
yourself."

70
Nifemi chuckled.

He held her neck gently and pushed her back to see her face. "I didn't say
anything funny."

She smiled. "Your voice was tickling."

"Okay. I’m not done talking. So, stay still please." He said, his expression
playfully serious.

Nifemi nodded and held her lips tightly against each other, trying not to laugh.

He pushed her hair away from her ear and whispered into it. "Guess what!
Everyone acts clumsy occasionally. So, it's not just you."

She burst into laughter.

Dennis chuckled and stared into her face. Her laughter was contagious. He
cupped her face with his hands. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

Nifemi stopped laughing and gazed into his eyes. Desire gazed back at her. She
circled her arms around his neck. Dennis worked his fingers round her face,
making her heart pound faster. Kiss me already. She thought, resisting the
temptation to lick her lips.

Dennis leaned closer and kissed her neck, then her chin and finally, her
trembling lips.

Eyes closed, she kissed him back without any form of restraint, stroking her
fingers with much tenderness over his nape.

Dennis pulled back gently and lifted her as he got up from the sofa.

Confused, "where are you taking me?" She asked.

"To the bedroom." He responded with a cocky grin.

"Are you kidding me? I don't want to have sex!"

His brows wrinkled in a frown. "Are you a Virgin?!"

"Yes—I meant no." She covered her face with her palms momentarily.

Dennis gave a brief derisive laugh. "So, what’s the problem here?"

"I haven’t had sex in ten years and I want to keep it that way until I'm married."

71
"Why?"

"Because I want to do the right thing. I want to honour God with my body."

He put her down and went over to sit on a different sofa.

Nifemi remained on her feet, staring confusingly at him. "But I thought you were
a Christian."

"I guess I am."

She opened her eyes wide in disgust. "You guess?"

"Don’t give me that judgemental look. I am a Christian." He shrugged. "I guess I

was just caught up in the moment."

"I'm not judging you." She said calmly and hugged herself, her body still craving
for his.

Dennis stood up and walked up to her. He slid his arms around her tiny waist.
"I'm sorry." His tone, calm and soothing. "I'm fine with just kissing you—I won't
make you do what you don’t want to do."

She nodded and rested her head on his chest.

Dennis held her hands and pulled her gently to the sofa. He pulled her arms up
around his neck and kissed her lips. Pushing her gently over the sofa, he slid his
hand into her blouse.

Nifemi suddenly slapped his arm away, pushed him and jumped off the sofa. She
flickered and held her forehead. "Oh my God! I shouldn't even be here."

Dennis shot her an angry look, his back still on the sofa. "What is it this time?"

Nifemi picked up her purse. "I need to leave now!" Her eyes were getting swelled
with tears. "I don't want to do this anymore." She paced to the door.

"Hey, wait up." He said, standing up.

She stopped and looked back. She swiped one thread of tear away from her
cheek.

Perplexed, he shook his head and smoothened his shirt. "I will drive you home."

"No! Just let me get my suitcase from your car. I will take a public transport."

72
He walked to the door and pushed it open. "I insist."

"Fine!" She exclaimed, avoiding his eyes.

All that was left of the rain were drizzles. Dennis drove in silence, with Nifemi
cleaning the fog off the windscreen and telling him when and where to turn. She
muttered "Thank you" as they finally arrived at the gate to her sister’s apartment.
She prayed silently that none of her family would come out. She couldn’t answer
any questions about Dennis.

"It turned out we are still worlds apart." She said before climbing down the car.
"I can’t have a relationship with you."

Dennis nodded. He stretched his hands towards the back seat and got her
suitcase. He handed it to her without saying a word.

Nifemi collected it and closed the door. Dennis drove off before she could even
say goodbye.

Surprised at his attitude, she stared at his car until it was out of view. She
brought out her phone and dialled her sister’s number as she strolled towards
the gate.

***

Nifemi stepped out of the bathroom, a towel tied around her. She needed to take
a cold bath and have some time alone. She had to talk some sense into her own
head. Why would she keep making unhealthy choices? Two months ago, it was
Felix and now Dennis? How could she be so cheap enough to be all over him just
after four days of bumping into him? She felt like a prostitute. So much for one who
wants to honour God with her body. She felt disgusted at herself.

She entered her bedroom and found her sister seated on the bed, obviously
waiting for her. "Hi." Nifemi to her sister casually and walked past her to the
wardrobe.

"Hi?" Her sister asked with her head tilted backward and eyes widened a little.

Nifemi ignored her and applied some cream over her body. Her sister had asked
what happened when she came in, but she told her it was a long story. Moyo had
let it slide because she had to rush back to the kitchen to attend to her cooking.

73
Nifemi knew her sister would come back to find out every detail of the reason
she got home three hours after her plane landed. She had called five minutes
before the plane took off and informed her she would be home in an hour. She
sure had a lot of explaining to do.

"Babe, don’t give me that silent treatment."

Nifemi put some under clothes on. "Sis, I just want to be alone. That isn’t too
much of a thing to want, I suppose."

"Look I know you. You don't want to be alone except something terrible has
happened, and especially when it's got to do with a man—so spill it out! I want
to hear the long story."

Nifemi let out a sarcastic laugh as she slid into a short jumpsuit. "You think you
always have me figured out huh?"

"It’s not that—you see; you are even confirming my suspicions. You are being
rude already...I'm neither here to spite nor judge you. I'm here to share your
burdens and offer counsels if need be. No one should ever have to carry their
burdens alone." Moyo winked and shook her head. 'It’s not fair on humanity."

Nifemi let out a quiet laugh. "Sincerely, I'm fine. I'm just too tired." She strolled
to the bed. "Uzo had me up on my feet like a slave-of-honour all through the
weekend. I couldn't make it home in time because of the rain and all."

Moyo chuckled. "A slave-of-honour! That doesn't sound like a nice one."

Nifemi stood beside her, hands on her waist, she shook her head. "Trust me, it
wasn't nice at all."

"Okay." Moyo looked up at her. Not convinced she wasn't hiding anything. She
rested her palms on the bed and pushed her shoulders up. "What about the 'all'
part?"

Nifemi glared at her “What all?"

Moyo folded her hands against her stomach. "You said you couldn't make it home
in time due to the rain and—" She curved her fingers into an enclosed
parenthesis, "—all"

Nifemi flung her head backward and raised her hands in the air. "Stop being
impossible. Will you?" She sat beside her sister and groaned.

74
Moyo sighed. "Sorry. I just have this hunch you are hiding something from me—
a sister’s instinct, I guess."

Nifemi sighed and placed her arms around her sister’s shoulders. "And that is
because you care. But there's nothing to worry about." Her voice sort of shook,
almost betraying her. She quickly cleared her throat. "I'm fine."

Still not convinced. Moyo decided against pushing it and stood up. "Alright then."
She pointed to the door. "I will just go."

Nifemi looked up at her and nodded. "Thanks." She muttered.

"You should call Uzo and Dara. They both called my line—they couldn’t reach
you."

"Oh! My phone is still in-flight mode." She reached out for her purse and brought
out her phone. She turned off the flight mode and put the phone on the bed. "I'll
call them later."

"Okay." Moyo walked towards the door in a slow pace, hoping her sister would
call her back. She knew something was wrong. It was all over her face. She
pressed down the door handle and pulled the door open.

Nifemi watched her silently, contemplating if to seek her counsel or figure things
out on her own. "Sis." She called out as Moyo was about leaving the room.

Moyo turned abruptly. "Did you call me?"

Nifemi nodded.

She hurried to her side. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Nifemi bit her lower lip. "I guess I should. It’s not like I can hide anything from
you."

Moyo held her sister’s hands. "What happened?" She asked concernedly.

Nifemi sighed. "Remember the old class mate I ran into the last time I had dinner
with Uzo and Bayo?"

"Yes, the one at Wendy's."

"That one." Nifemi nodded bashfully.

Moyo shot her a quizzical look.

75
"He insisted on picking me from the airport."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"So, he brought you home I suppose?"

"Yes, he did. But not after stopping by his apartment."

"What for?" Moyo asked, trying to stay calm.

"The rain was intense; his screen wipers were faulty and he lived close to the
airport. So, he proposed we stopped over until the rain stopped."

"I see. So, what happened afterwards?"

Nifemi shook her head. "Nothing happened." She whispered.

Moyo glared at her, not by any chance convinced by her last statement.

"Okay—something happened," She shook her head sharply. "But nothing

serious...We kissed, but he wanted more—of course I didn’t oblige!"

Moyo heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God it wasn't more than a kiss.

"I feel so dirty and mad at myself."

"So, since it was just a kiss, why do you feel so dirty and mad?"

"I shouldn't have kissed some guy I bumped into four days ago, just because
some old emotions came rushing back and he claimed to be in love with me!"

"Hmm." Moyo muttered, trying to put her thoughts together.

"I know, I'm such an idiot!"

Moyo held her cheeks. "Hey, don’t ever say that about yourself. You are not an
idiot! A lot of us make so many mistakes before finally getting it right. Thank
God, He never runs out of patience. He's always waiting for us, and helping us
to finally get it right."

"How long is God going to wait for me? -–I know better, but I keep finding it
difficult to get my actions and choices in sync with the truth I know. I feel like a
prodigal daughter going around to sample the pleasures of life. You have no idea
how many guys I've shared Premarital kissing with—four!"

76
"Kissing isn't such a big deal. Is it?" Moyo asked blandly.

Nifemi’s eyes grew larger as she stared unbelievably at her sister. "Is that all
you've got to say?"

"I didn't mean any offense. I just want to know why you are so mad since kissing
isn't something serious...you said it yourself. It's not like you had sex with the
guy."

Nifemi let out a short derisive laugh. "You want to know why? Kissing leaves my
mind bombarded with so many impure thoughts, it leaves me wet in my pants.
It fills my mind with lust for more and then crushes my spirit with
condemnation...And you don't know how difficult and heartbroken it is for me to
get over a guy once I've gotten used to kissing him. You wouldn’t believe I’m still
yet to fully get over Felix. You have no idea how many times I cried myself to
sleep because he is no longer a part of my life, yet he left with a part of me. I
missed him so much it usually took every energy in me to restrain myself from
going to his apartment to beg him...Dennis came as a good distraction—I needed
to prove to myself that I could still be fine without Felix. Alas, I'm about to
establish another soul tie with Dennis." She bit her index finger and shook her
head. "I can’t keep on living like this. It drains me spiritually—and—emotionally."
Her eyes got swollen with tears.

Moyo let out a sharp breath. "Do you know why during a wedding; the pastor
tells the groom to now kiss the bride? It's because the first kiss is expected to
spark the beginning of oneness between them since they have now made a public
commitment to stick together no matter how tough life gets. That kiss ought to
be the initiation of a soul tie between the couple which would be further
strengthened by sex. And this is a good thing. It becomes an issue when you go
around initiating soul ties with people you aren’t married to… Look, I’ve had my
own share of premarital kissing and I know what it feels like when that person
is no longer in your life. I know how difficult it is to get rid of those memories. I
know that void—like a part of you had been ripped off.”

“Exactly.” Nifemi whispered sadly, swiping the tears off her cheeks.

“Yes, I know for some people, kissing isn’t such a big deal. Neither, is it
categorically expressed in the Bible as being—" Moyo coiled her fingers, “—‘a
sin’... but like the Bible says, ‘all things are permissible, but not all things are

77
beneficial—not all things are helpful, and I will not be dominated by
anything.1’”

Nifemi bit her upper lip as she listened with rapt attention. It wasn’t her first
time hearing those words, but she hadn't really allowed those words to form her
choices.

“Look, you’ve got to make a decision as to whether you want to continue binding
your souls to men that you aren’t married to and risk being frayed when they
eventually leave or wait to get married and enjoy the ecstasy of binding your soul
to that one man that would be with you till death.”

Nifemi sighed. “I would prefer the latter…but my emotions keep getting in the
way.”

“Come on Nife. That’s a lie from the devil—you own your emotions and you can
choose to control them with the word of God and the help of the Holy Spirit. Your
choice far outweighs your emotions. God has given every human the power to
choose—this is how it works—when you say yes to your flesh, the devil springs
into action. On the other hand, when you say yes to the word of God, His Spirit
springs into action.”

Nifemi let out a long breath.

“Concentrate on renewing your mind by getting into God’s word more often—that
is the only way you can learn to say more YESs to God, and gradually all you
would have left for the devil will be Nos…That’s how to lead a peaceful life—void
of agitations.”

“I’d want that. I really want to lay hold on the abundant life Jesus promised.”

“Good! That’s the spirit!” Moyo exclaimed with a smile. “Learn of Jesus, behold
Him; let His words flood your heart and mind, and your life will be more glorious
than you’d ever imagined. He is your life… Now, let’s get started by agreeing on
breaking all those soul ties.” They prayed in the Spirit and hugged. Moyo wiped
the tears from her face and assured her she had the power to make the right
choices and do the right things.

78
 CHAPTER EIGHT

IT WAS exactly one month to Uzo’s wedding. Her dad flew in Thursday night from
Ibadan to have a talk with her and Bayo. They had dinner at her apartment. Uzo
had wondered what the discussion was all about that her dad would insist on
coming over to Lagos instead of inviting them over to Ibadan. She'd asked her
mom several times but she wouldn’t give her a clue. She only said it was a good
surprise. And a good surprise it was indeed!

Bayo was a bit nervous all through dinner. Mr Okafor prayed for them after
dinner and ran them through a thirty minutes counselling session on how
marriage wasn’t always rosy and how it was important for them to see each other
through God’s eyes. He smiled and ordered Uzo to get his briefcase from the
living room. He opened his briefcase, pulled out a large envelope containing some
keys and handed it to Bayo.

Bayo opened the large envelope and fetched out some bunch of keys.

"Keys?" Uzo asked.

"Yes, keys." Mr Okafor said as he pulled out another big brown envelope. This
time the contents were documents. He handed the second envelope to Bayo.
Bayo gently placed the keys on the dining table and slid his hand into the second
envelope. He read through the documents and abruptly stood up, causing his
chair to release a sharp cry. "Oh my God!" He exclaimed, unable to hide his
amazement.

Uzo glared at him. "Babe, what is it?"

"Oh-my-God!" He pulled his fiancé up and showed her the documents.

Uzo looked from the documents to her dad. "Dad! You bought us a house?!"

"Yes dear. I had to give you your wedding present early—you know—to afford
you ample time to get the place ready before the wedding."

79
"Dad!" Uzo cried and circled her arms round her dad’s neck. "You are the best!"

Bayo laid flat before him like a typical Yoruba guy and held his legs. "Thanks so
much, dad."

Mr Okafor looked up at his daughter and grinned. "I almost forgot you are getting
married to a Yoruba man."

They all laughed.

Mr. Okafor looked down at Bayo. "Get up son. Come give me a hug."

Bayo got up and hugged his father-in-law to-be. To think that he just had a
meeting with a real estate agent the day before, to check out payment plans for
flats that were on mortgage. This was a miracle! So, he would be starting his new
family in a house of their very own! That wasn’t a luxury he enjoyed as a child.
Growing up, he and his family had moved from one rented apartment to another.
And even now, his parents still lived in a rented apartment. Now that he had a
good job, his plan had been to buy a three-bedroom apartment first for his new
family, and then save up to build a house for his parents. The cost of a three-
bedroom apartment in Lagos could buy even a duplex in Ibadan and Bayo had
thought that achieving his plan would take him at least three years...but to the
glory of God, he owns a house now and could concentrate on building his parents
a house of their own after the wedding. His joy knew no bound. "God bless you
so much sir." He prayed gratefully.

"God bless you too, my children." Mr. Okafor prayed, holding them tight. Once
his daughter had told him she was in love with some man, he trusted her
judgement. Even when she mentioned he was Yoruba, he didn’t raise an
eyebrow.

Growing up, Uzo had kept her distance from other kids, especially boys; she
never wanted to have anything to do with a boy, not because she didn’t like them
but because they usually made fun of her. Her fear for boys had been ignited
when her best friend whose parents were also friends of her own parents got
transferred to her school. She’d been extremely excited when her parents told
her he was getting transferred. She'd believed he would defend and protect her
from the other boys who had made a hobby of taunting and making fun of her
because of her body fat. Unfortunately, her excitement had been turned into
horror when suddenly her best friend completely ignored her and joined with the

80
other boys to call her awful names such as 'fat cow' and 'grandma.' That
experience had worsened her insecurity and caused her to lack. She was in
Junior School Two at the time.

At such a young age of eleven, Uzo had resolved to starving herself and doing all
sorts of exercise, just to lose weight—it became her single life purpose. She
needed to get people to like her. She was tired of walking the school with her
head down. Even some of the girls had refused to be friends with her, because
she was the 'fattest girl' in school. When people whispered or laughed while she
walked past, her legs would shiver—she would always think they were making
fun of her. The more insecure she got, the worst her grades became. Her parents
got worried and took her to visit a therapist who eventually got her to talk about
her fears and insecurities. The therapist had advised she’d be home-schooled
and surrounded with people who loved her unconditionally and validated her
often. One of her home-schooled teachers who taught her Christian Religion
Study had expounded to her the unconditional love of God—proven by Christ's
suffering and crucifixion. From that moment, Christian Religion Study became
her favourite subject, so much that she would always study the Bible on her
own. If there was someone who loved her that much and wouldn’t condemn her
nor make fun of her, but would even give up His own life to make her happy,
then she needed to know Him. The more she'd studied the Bible, the more she
began to see herself in a new light—God's beloved. She got a revelation—the fact
that she had God’s unconditional love, His approval, His attention and His
friendship always. She realized she was complete in Christ and lacked nothing.
He was the only One she really needed, the only One that really mattered. That
was her period of transition. She went back to a different school while she was
in Senior School Two and came out top in her class. She was nicknamed 'B4-Big,
Brilliant, Beautiful and Bold.'

Uzo had represented her new school for several interschool competitions when
she was in Senior School Three and the lowest prize she had won was the second
runner-up. She came first in most of the competitions. Lots of the students in
her school and some she met at various interschool competitions were usually
eager to be friends with her, but Uzo only made a few friends. She wasn’t a snob.
To tell the truth, she was friendly to all. She was only cautious enough to choose
her friends wisely, even now, she only had few friends.

81
Bayo on the other hand never knew a thing about Uzo’s family background before
he asked her out. What initially attracted him to her was her passion and
commitment to helping other students achieve excellence in their academics; she
organised tutorials for them even when she had her schedules tied up. When
Bayo got closer to her, her perception of God, herself and life in general had got
him captivated. Uzo wasn’t one that needed validation, not because of the
affluence that characterised her background, but because she had a practical
understanding of God’s love. She was confident and secure in her own skin. She
had her own fashion style and didn’t give a care about what was in vogue. Bayo
couldn't help but love this woman who was so bold, yet so humble. After they
became friends, she would encourage him to press forward and be the best God
had called him to be in every area of his life, always reminding him how he
already had all he needed. She believed in him no doubt. And to crown it all, she
was a Virgin! He was her first boyfriend and would be her husband. Bayo couldn’t
boast of the same innocence, but by the grace of God, he'd been celibate for seven
years and intended to keep it that way until he was married to the love of his
life—Uzo Okafor, soon to be Mrs. Uzo Eniola.

***

Nifemi walked down Zion Estate observing the numbers written on the houses
ordered on both sides. Uzo had told her their new house was at number thirteen.
Uzo had been working on the house’s interiors for a few days. It was two weeks
to her wedding and she had to get the house ready. In addition to the house, her
dad had gifted them five million naira for the interiors.

Nifemi finally sighted ‘number thirteen’ and walked in through the opened gate.
A truck was packed in the compound and some men were moving in furniture.
Uzo stood by the porch swing and called out her name, she had a big sweatshirt
on, making her look even bigger.

Nifemi walked up to her, giving her a puzzled look. “Girl, what’s with the big
sweatshirt?” she asked, as she gave way for two men who were carrying in a large
bookshelf.

Uzo smiled as they hugged each other. “I’m fine, I just feel a bit cold.”

82
Nifemi raised an eyebrow. “Hey, don’t even think of backing out of the wedding.”
She said playfully.

Uzo laughed and held her friend’s hand. “I won’t dare.”

They walked inside and inspected the rooms. The house had six rooms, excluding
the two living rooms, kitchen and toilets. The furniture, lightening, door drapes,
chandeliers, window blinds and art works were exquisite.

“Wow! I see a lot of work had been done here already.” Nifemi commended.

Uzo grinned. “Yes, thank God. All that’s left are the living rooms. I’m so excited!
I’m so looking forward to us getting the wedding done with.”

“I bet you are. I know ‘envy’ isn’t such a good word—but the truth is—I do envy
you. I mean you have everything I’ve only imagined.” Nifemi confessed as they
stood by the entrance to the master bedroom.

Uzo smiled. “I understand the way you feel, but trust me, God’s got great things
in store for your future. You only need to wait a little more time.”

“Sincerely, I’m tired of waiting—the more I wait, the more I make stupid
mistakes. I just want this future already!”

Uzo pulled her best friend close. “Hey, everything will be fine. You only need to
learn to trust God more. He has your best interest at heart.”

“You know, sometimes I feel like He’s punishing me for my sins.”

“You and I know that’s not true. All your sins have been punished on Christ.
God is only using the waiting period to strengthen you, He isn’t punishing you.
He wouldn’t do that—He loves you much more than you can ever imagine.”

Nifemi took a deep sigh.

“Look, you have the power to shorten this period of waiting.”

“How?” Nifemi asked.

“You need to start having the right perspective of God. Having an inaccurate
view of God will only make you have an inaccurate view of yourself. You are
God’s image, remember?””

“Hmm.” Nifemi reacted thoughtfully.

83
“Choose to set your mind on the things that are true of Him—this is the only way
you can start seeing yourself properly. And consequently, you will attract the
right people and opportunities.”

“Wow! That’s deep.”

“It’s reality. Think of it this way—as recorded in the Bible, the Israelites’ journey
from Egypt to the promise land was supposed to last forty days, but
unfortunately, it lasted forty years—why? They had a wrong perspective of God
and themselves, and consequently they attracted the wrong situations into their
lives.”

“And that was terrible. Some of them couldn’t even make it to the promise land.”
Nifemi added.

“Exactly! They didn’t believe in the goodness of God. So, my dear friend, it’s high
time you started synching your mind with God’s thoughts for you—we both know
that His thoughts are good, and that includes giving you the future that you so
desire and even exceeding it.”

Nifemi flashed a grin. “Thanks friend. I feel really better.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Uzo gave Nifemi a brief hug. “You know, meditating on
the word of God makes us think better, feel better, and consequently, we will see
better.”

“Hey ladies” They heard Bayo’s voice as they entered the master bedroom.

“Hey Bayo.” Nifemi said as the couple walked up to each other and hugged like
they hadn’t seen in a year.

Nifemi observed them admirably. “Guys, I thought you saw each other just
yesterday.”

The pair disentangled, smiling.

Bayo gave Nifemi a quick hug. “Hey maid-of-honour, don’t blame me. Each day
fills me with new and greater love for this amazing woman,” he winked at his
fiancé, “I’m literally intoxicated.”

Nifemi nodded. “That’s a good one—I desire such love.”

“And you will get it!” Bayo assured, squeezing Nifemi’s shoulder.

84
“Amen!” Nifemi said with great emphasis.

Bayo grinned. “I’ve got a surprise for you guys.”

“Really?” Uzo asked.

“Yes, my love.”

An average height, dark and chubby man showed up at the doorway. “And here
comes the surprise.” The man said, beaming.

“Kitan!” Uzo exclaimed as the man walked in.

“Yes, it’s just me.” He gave Uzo a hug.

Nifemi stared at the man as he hugged Uzo and she pictured how horrific it would
look for Uzo to be married to this man. Physically, they were an outrageous pair.
The man’s stomach was a bit protruded and he had so much fat in his cheek.
He must have been eating so many junks.

“I see our bride is looking even more beautiful.” Kitan observed.

“Thanks a lot. And you aren’t looking bad either.” Uzo mentioned, eyeing him,
Good living uhn?”

Good living indeed. Nifemi thought, smiling heavily to hide her disapproval of
Kitan’s repellent shape.

“I guess you will be around until the wedding.” Uzo said.

“Yes ma’am. I was able to get my leave in time to support my buddy.” Kitan
replied, patting Bayo’s back.

Uzo grinned. “Thanks a bunch. It’s so good to have you around.”

“The pleasure is mine ma’am.” Kitan replied, bowing.

They all smiled.

“Oh, meet my best friend and my maid-of-honour—Nifemi Kitan.”

“Wow!” Kitan exclaimed as he reached out for Nifemi’s hand. He gave her a quick
kiss at the back of her palm. “It’s so good to meet you, my lady.”

Nifemi nodded and shone him a grin.

Kitan released her hand. “I see we have something in common.”

85
“Right—my last name is your first name.” Nifemi acknowledged casually.

“Right.”

“Okay guys, let’s take a tour of the house.” Bayo mentioned.

“You guys go ahead. We would join you soon.” Uzo said.

“Okay, let’s go man.” Bayo motioned to his friend.

Nifemi stared with disdain at Kitan as the men exited the room.

Uzo frowned at her and tugged at her arm. “What’s that look for?”

“I just don’t understand why a young man wouldn’t keep himself in shape.”

“Really? You shouldn’t look down on people irrespective of what they look like.
You of all people know that.” Uzo scolded.

“Not when they could have avoided looking that way.”

“Seriously Nife, it’s very wrong—you know I’d been a victim of that—and I know
how much it hurts.”

“Right.” I’m sorry, Nifemi said apologetically.

“No probs. Kitan is a really good guy—you will like him when you get to know
him—and you might even—?” She winked.

Nifemi raised up her hand, “don’t even go there. I’ll sure pass on that one—he’s
not my type at all.”

"You know he's going to be the best man—and there's this popular belief about
best men and chief bride's maids.”

Nifemi waved her hand several times. "No—no—no. That won’t work for me.”

Uzo laughed. “Hmm. I know your type—tall guys with a hot body.”

“Whatever. I like the lighting of this room—it’s gorgeous.” Nifemi said, looking
around the room and obviously trying to change the subject.

Uzo smiled.

86
 ***

Sunday service had just ended and crowds of worshippers were pulling out of
the church. Nifemi, her family and Dara chatted as they made their way to the
parking area.

Dara had worshipped at their church, as he wanted to immediately hang out

with Nifemi afterwards.

“I’ll see you all later.” Nifemi said to her family as she and Dara were about
strolling to where his car was parked.

“Aunty Nife, don’t forget to bring me goodies.” Seth begged.

“And me too.” Grace added.

Nifemi smiled at her nephew and niece. “Sure champs. I dare not forget that.”

“Dara, be sure to bring my sister back in one piece.” Moyo warned.

“Trust me sis.” Dara assured. He shook hands with Paul as they all exchanged
goodbyes.

Dara opened the door for Nifemi and she slid into the car after giving him a soft
jab on his side and muttering thanks.

Dara got into the car and drove out of the church. He stole glances at her with
one corner of his eye. He thought she looked even prettier dressed in a classic
black sheath dress that hugged seamlessly her pear body shape. A single silver
jewellery hung on her neck and it reminded Dara of the Song of Solomon—
indeed her neck was as beautiful as an ivory tower; the scent of her garment was
like the fragrance of Lebanon; the gloss on her lips looked like honey, and he
could only imagine her lips would be as sweet as nectar. I shouldn’t be thinking
of such. He tried to shake off the thoughts and he literally shook his head several
times.

“Are you okay?” Nifemi asked him.

He looked over at her for a moment and then returned his eyes to the road.
“Hmmn—I’m fine.”

87
Nifemi widened her eyes. “So, what was is it you disagreed with that you had to
shake your head so vigorously.”

Dara smiled. “Babe, don’t mind me—even I can’t explain it.”

They pulled onto the driveway at Maryland mall. Dara got a ticket at the entrance
and found a parking space. He and Nifemi unstrapped their seat belts at once.
He placed his hand gently on hers. Nifemi looked at him and their eyes
interlocked for some moment.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered. That wasn’t what he’d wanted to say. His
heart was beating fast. This feeling was all new. He’d always loved and cherished
her as his friend. Nonetheless this feeling, this emotion rushing through him
spelt more. Back in secondary school, he’d always thought of her as the one he
wanted to share his life with. But as they grew up, he’d discarded it as mere
childhood dreams. But this past few years, he’d find his heart racing back to her
like it belonged with her, and even this moment staring into her eyes, though
they seemed confused, they looked like home—his home.

She looked away abruptly. “Okay, this is awkward…what’s up with you though?
You are acting weird all of a sudden.”

His heart still hurdling, he took away his hand, took a deep breath, and leaned
back in his seat. “I’m sorry.” He muttered. He looked outside the window and
then back at her. “Hey, Nife, I’m truly sorry for being weird. We’re here to hangout
and have fun like good old friends—”

“Exactly! Good old friends—" Nifemi cut in, “—so don’t ruin this.”

Dara bit his lip and inhaled deeply, obviously hurt by her words. “I promise not
to.” He said weakly. He’d been praying about his feelings since meeting Nifemi
again about four months ago. He’d asked God to quench the desires if they
weren’t right, and for two months, he neither paid her a visit nor hung out with
her. He only called occasionally. But it turned out his cravings for her had only
gotten even stronger—they weren’t lust, nor infatuation. He wanted to be part of
her life, to cheer her, to encourage her to overcome all her insecurities, to
constantly remind her of God’s love by loving her in the same vein and washing
her with his words to bring the best out of her. He was in love with this woman.
And yes, he felt like kissing her, but he knew better than let his emotions order
him around. He was going to wait until the time was right. He glanced at her

88
eyes one more time, they were cold and determined not to look at him with
passion. “I’m sorry again.” He said, opening the door.

Nifemi nodded and tried to unlock the door.

“I will get it.” Dara said with a smile.

Nifemi smiled back at him. “Come on now Dara, opening the door isn’t such a
big deal. I can get it myself.”

Dara sighed and nodded.

***

Lunch was awfully quiet. They only made orders, and didn’t speak to each other
all through. Nifemi’s eyes were fixated on her food until she finished gulping in
her meal. Dara stole glances at her now and then as he picked on his own food.
Nifemi’s sudden coldness had hit him bad and took away his appetite. He forced
a smile as they got up.

Nifemi scanned his half-filled plate of food. She took his hand and stared into
his eyes. The desires he saw in them earlier had been replaced by a look of
indifference. “You know I hate to see you this way.” She said as they walked to
the front desk at the cinema.

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely.

“No…I should be sorry. I hurt your feelings.”

Dara gently withdrew his hand and looked away. “No, it’s fine. I understand we
are just friends and I intend to keep it that way—" He said sadly. “I probably
don’t have what it takes to be more.”

“Why would—?” She stopped curtly as she caught the front desk lady at the
movies eavesdropping. “Let’s talk about this later.”

Dara got their movie tickets from the front desk lady and gave her a sincere
smile.

“The movie starts in thirty minutes. You can claim your bucket of popcorn and
two bottles of drink before going in to the cinema.” The lady said with a half-
smile.

89
“Okay thanks.” He took Nifemi’s hand. “Let’s take a walk first.”

Nifemi smiled and intertwined her fingers with his. “I’d like that.”

Dara looked down at their interlocked hands and smiled back at her, this time
it was sincere. This beautiful woman can be unpredictable. He thought. “So, what
was it you wanted us to talk about?” He asked as they went down the escalator.

“My feet are hurting.” She said, making a wry face.

“Come on, Nife, that wasn’t what you were going to say.” Dara said persuasively.

“Okay, you got me. But my feet really hurt.”

Dara looked down at her cute heels. “We’d fix your feet as soon as you spilled
out the main issue.”

“Right…I care about our friendship—a lot—and I hate to see you hurt. You mean
so much to me. You are godly, smart and very loving—and blessed is that woman
who would be your wife, because I trust you would never hurt her deliberately.”

Dara made a mental note of the fact that ‘handsome’ was missing in her
description of him. “So, can you be that woman? I’m in love with you,
Oluwanifemi, and this is way more than the way I feel about you.” He said,
looking affectionately into her eyes.

Nifemi squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Dara, but I don’t think I can love you
that way.”

“You can’t or you won’t—why? You don’t think I’m good enough for you? What
can I do to make you change your mind?”

“Look, I just don’t like to be of the same height with my husband. I want to be
able to look up to him.” She said without thinking.

“So that’s it. I’m too short.” Dara said bitterly, releasing his grasp on her hand.

“I didn’t mean it that way—I was just kidding.”

“No, you weren’t kidding. I’m too short for you.” Those words hurt him to his
core. Not that he wished he could get taller for her. But the fact that his very
best friend couldn’t accept him the way he was.

90
Nifemi saw the hurt in his eyes. “I ‘m sorry…it’s not like you are short—I mean,
5 ft 4 can’t be considered short, right? It’s just the fact that we are of the same
height bothers me—I’m not sure I would be able cope with that.”

Dara clenched his fist. “It’s fine…there’s something you need to know though.
Which is more important? That you are able to look up at your husband
physically? —or that you are able to look up to him emotionally, spiritually and
mentally. Choose for yourself…I hope you make the right choice. It would hurt
me to see you give your heart to the wrong man.”

Nifemi pondered on his question—she wanted it all, but which of these things
really mattered? It appeared she’d always put are fleshly needs before the needs
of her spirit and soul.

Determined not to treat her differently, Dara shrugged off the tension between
them and grabbed her arm good-naturedly. “Let’s go get the pains off your feet.”
He said, eyeing her shoes.

Nifemi’s body seemed stiff. She couldn’t bring herself to relax in his presence.
She had hurt him with her words. And it hurts her too. She hugged his arm like
a kid. “I’m truly sorry Dara—I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Come on Nife, I already shrugged it off. There’s no need to apologize.”

“But I’m still sorry.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.”

Dara closed his eyes briefly as she breathed softly into his ears. He fought the
urge to pull her into an embrace. He spun her rather and gazed into her eyes.
They looked back at him with sincere remorse. His eyes flickered. “If it will put
you at ease—you are forgiven…I don’t want things to ever get awkward between
us.”

She nodded babyishly in agreement.

We’ve come a long way.” He squeezed her shoulders mildly. “You will always be
special to me.”

“And you to me.”

Dara pulled her nose playfully. “Now tell me, does your feet still hurt?”

She winced. “More than you can imagine.”

91
“Do you want me to carry you?” He patted his own back.

Nifemi gave him a soft punch on the back. “I can manage on my own.”

“Okay ma’am.”

They smiled at each other as they located a shop that sold shoes. Dara insisted
she sat. He pulled off her shoes, gave her legs a gentle massage and then
proceeded to help her shop for a pair of slippers. It didn’t take long for him to get
one that was exactly her size and taste.

Nifemi slid her feet into the slippers and gave him a thumb’s up. “Perfect!”

Dara winked. “What do you expect? I always know what you like.”

Nifemi smiled.

Dara got a nylon bag from one of the shop attendants and dropped Nifemi’s shoes
in it. He held the nylon in one hand and Nifemi’s hand in the other as they walked
back to the cinema to see a movie.

They enjoyed the rest of the afternoon together—as BEST FRIENDS.

92
 CHAPTER NINE

THE KITCHEN was a mixture of aromas and heat. It’d been a long week for all
the chefs; a big company in the city was holding a one-week retreat for her top
management staff and they were lodged in Hallopins hotel, saddling the chefs
with the responsibility of feeding fifty VVIPs in addition to the regular customers.
Though it was the objective of the hotel to treat every customer as a VIP, special
attention was given to these top management staff because it was their first time
at Hallopins and the company had been generous to have immediately pay the
amount that was charged without negotiation.

The Head Chef lumbered into the kitchen, the look on his face told the chefs all
wasn’t well. He shook his head at them.

Tosin frowned. “Please don’t tell me he isn’t pleased again?”

The Hotel Manager had not ceased to stress out the need for all the staff to give
these VVIPs an exceptional customer service, and the chefs were not exempted.
Nifemi and one other chef took care of the main course while Kelvin and Tosin
took care of the appetizer. The other four chefs were responsible for cooking the
regular meals for other customers of the hotel.

It was the fourth day, and all the chefs had been literally drained not just
because of the cooking but the pressure from the Manager. He didn’t seem to
appreciate their efforts but nagged them for every little mistake—mostly made
up by him. Within the last couple of days, he’d been a completely different person
from the sweet manager that welcomed Nifemi five months ago.

The Head chef tied on his apron. “Guys, we really need to step up our game. Mr
Dele complained bitterly about the appetizer. In his own words— ‘the appetizer
from yesterday-what’s the name again—potato lollipop—would do nothing but
kill one’s appetite.’”

93
There was a sudden silence in the kitchen. It was Tosin’s idea to make potato
lollipop, though Kelvin had opted for a different food, but Tosin was all too excited
about the recipe that Kelvin had to go her way. She opened her mouth to say
something but her throat suddenly got tight. She could feel her eyes beginning
to get heavy with tears. She hadn’t intended to kill anyone’s appetite.

Kelvin robbed off the sweat from his bald head and replaced the handkerchief in
his apron carpet. “That was harsh, and I really don’t understand why the
manager had become such an impossible critique.”

Tosin cleared her throat and eventually opened her mouth. “And what did he say
about the main course?”

The Head Chef brought out a large bowl of marinated chicken from the
refrigerator. “He only said we could do better.”

Tosin looked over at Nifemi who seemed to be consumed with cutting some
salmons and ignorant of her glare.

Kelvin squeezed Tosin’s hand softly in time to save her from switching over to
envy mode. “We’ll do better today—let’s concentrate on getting these chilli
chicken bites ready.”

Tosin laughed briefly in sarcasm. “Like it would make any difference to the
Manager.”

Kelvin squeezed her shoulders. “We’re going to forget about the manager, and
give this our best.” He tightened his hand into a fist and stretched it forward,
“Team?”

Tosin hit her fist gently on his and smiled broadly. “Yes—team!”

Tosin worked on blending the garlic and chilli into a paste while Kelvin cut the
chicken into small sizes.

Nifemi suddenly felt light-headed. She dropped the knife on the kitchen counter
and closed her eyes for a moment, her hands resting on the counter. She blindly
found her way to the sink and washed her hands. No one seemed to notice her
as everyone was immersed. She washed her hands and splashed some water on
her face. She wiped her face with a handkerchief, untied her apron, hung it and
walked out of the kitchen, struggling to maintain a composed carriage. It looked
to her like the ground was moving under her feet.

94
Tosin glanced over as Nifemi left the kitchen. She noticed something bizarre in
the way she moved. She didn’t give it much thought but immediately returned
her attention to seasoning the bowl of bread crumbs before her. She buried
herself in the food prep for another ten minutes. She took a bowl of seasoned
chicken covered with a transparent plastic bag to the refrigerator and observed
Nifemi hadn’t returned. Her instinct told her something was wrong. She untied
her apron and hurried out of the kitchen. She suddenly got uneasy as she
stepped out, pacing to the ladies’ room—and there Nifemi was, laying on the floor
and crying softly in pain, unable to open her eyes nor move her body. Tosin
instantly bent and tried to help her to her feet, “Nifemi! Nifemi! Are you okay?!”

Nifemi kept groaning and couldn’t utter a word.

Tosin couldn’t lift her, she got up and fled out of the restroom. She burst into
the kitchen, breathless, even though the run from the rest room wasn’t up to a
minute.

Everyone glared at her.

She held her chest and tried to make out a word. She waved at them to follow
her. They all did as she led the way, sprinting back to the rest room.

“Where is Nifemi?” One of the chef asked, but the question hung in the air.

A lady raced out of the bathroom and bumped into them. One of the chefs helped
to stabilize her, as she pointed frantically to the ladies’ room.

Kelvin was the first to get to Nifemi’s unconscious body. His hands trembled as
he carried her in his arms.

Panic surged through everyone.

Kelvin noticed some thick blood on the place where her head had been. What
happened to her? He remembered she’d been awfully quiet that day. He prayed
silently for God to keep her alive.

The head chef scowled at Tosin as they paced out of the restroom. “What did you
do to her?”

Tosin opened her eyes wide. She couldn’t believe her supervisor’s question. Yes,
she didn’t get along with Nifemi, but No, she doesn’t have the heart to go into a
physical fight with anyone. “I—"

95
“You all go back to the kitchen while Kelvin and I get her to the hospital.” The
head chef ordered.

***

Kelvin held frightfully to Nifemi’s hand, rubbing her palm and speaking softly to
her to stay alive. The Head Chef’s face was also coloured with fears; his eyes were
continuously glued to Nifemi from the front seat of the SUV. He paid no attention
to the pain in his neck as he kept it spun, trying hard to figure out what could
have happened to her.

A member of the emergency crew had unbuttoned her shirt and was checking
for pulse as they drove into the nearest hospital.

Nifemi was wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit by some nurses while the four
emergency crew members that had brought her from the hotel stayed back at
the hospital lobby. Kelvin fell on a seat, his face buried in his hand, and his bald
head sweating profusely. The Head Chef paced to him and tapped him. Kelvin
looked up, his eyes, blood-red.

“We need to call her parents.”

Kelvin shook his head, “she’s orphaned.”

“Oh, I forgot that. Who do we call then?”

Kelvin pulled out his phone from his trouser pocket, “I’ll call her sister.” He stood
up and paced about the lobby while he dialled Moyo’s mobile number. A man
walked passed him and gave him a creepy look. He paid the random man no
attention as he held the phone to his ear. “Hello,” the voice sounded like Nifemi’s,
but it wasn’t her. Nifemi was in the ICU fighting for her life. “Hello,” He tried to
stay calm, “This is Kelvin, I work with Nifemi…there was a little accident—"

“What! Accident?”

“It’s nothing to be apprehensive about Madam, it should be a minor accident—"

“Should?! Please, where exactly is my sister?!”

Kelvin swallowed. “Gilead Hospital.”

“Okay thanks.”

96
There was a beep on the phone, Kelvin looked at the screen and realized Moyo
had dropped.

***

Tosin looked stuck to the kitchen tiled floor, staring blandly at the chilli chicken
bites now being fried by another chef. Much to the surprise of the other chefs,
Nifemi’s accident had demoralized Tosin, so much that she could no longer figure
out how to make chilli chicken bites. After they got back to the kitchen, all she
did was poured bread crumbs over the marinated tiny pieces of chicken, her
brain seemed to have stopped working, she had no idea what it was she was
supposed to do next. Still glued to the floor, shock was written all over her face
as she stared and tears were beginning to move down her cheeks.

Mr. Dele walked into the kitchen, a stern expression plated on his face and hands
in his pocket. He cleared his throat. “Good day chefs.”

“Good day Manager.” All the chefs, except Tosin responded in unison.

“I just spoke with the Head Chef.”

Tosin got up hastily.

All the chefs gave the manager their rapt attention.

“There’s no need for panic—all is well—Nifemi regained consciousness.”

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

Tosin wiped the tears from her face with her palm. "Thank God."

“So, I expect everyone to get busy with cooking—and Tosin, do remember to wash
those tears off your hand.” He walked out of the kitchen.

One of the chefs let out a short laugh as they all returned to their cooking.

Tosin shook her head in disbelief at the manager’s condescending words to her—
not that she needed to be reminded to was her hands. She sighed and walked to
the sink.

97
 ***

Nifemi opened her eyes to a strange environment and a group of people glaring
at her. Her mouth felt dry. “Am I dead? —please tell me I’m in heaven” she said
weakly. Some sedative had been injected into her blood stream to facilitate the
stitching of the deep cut she had sustained at the back of her head.

Moyo who'd been holding Nifemi’s arm prayerfully the whole time finally had a
faint smile on. “Don’t even think of going to heaven just yet.”

“What happened? —Why does my head hurt so much? —and this room…it
smells like hospital.”

Moyo licked her dry lips. “You were found groaning on the floor at the ladies’
room—you sustained a cut at the back of your head—and you are in the
hospital… So, what happened—I mean how did you end up on the bathroom
floor?

“My throat feels dry—can I get some water?” Nifemi said softly.

Dara pulled out a bottle of water from the pack of bottled water on the hospital
cupboard and handed it to Moyo.

Nifemi tried to seat up, but felt too weak to move her body. Dara moved closer
and gently pulled her up. He rested her back against the pillow, careful not to
touch the bandaged stitch at the back of her head.

Moyo uncovered the water and brought it to Nifemi’s mouth.

Nifemi collected the bottle and downed the 50cl bottle in ten seconds. She
stretched the empty bottle to Dara, “Another bottle please.”

Dara smiled, “sure ma’am, we don’t mind you finishing this whole pack.”

Nifemi managed a smile.

Dara uncovered another bottle and handed it to Nifemi. She poured the second
bottle of water down her throat in fifteen seconds. Some of the water dripped
down her jaw. Strangely, Dara thought she looked even more beautiful. Fatigue
still written all over her, she handed the empty bottle to Dara and whispered a
“thank you.”

98
The Head chef signalled with his head to Kelvin that it was okay to leave and
then cleared his throat. "Chef Nife, we have to leave—seeing you are now back—
"

"—back to life?" Nifemi interjected. "So, you guys thought I was dead already?"

Kelvin smiled for the first time since they arrived at the hospital. "Well, we
couldn’t even think."

"You needed to see the bucket of sweat oozing out of Kelvin's head," the head
chef chuckled, "not even the heat in Hallopins kitchen had been able to produce
as much sweat on his head."

Nifemi laughed out until her head hurt the more. She gave a brief scowl. "I'm so
sorry for scaring everyone.”

Kelvin walked close and squeezed her leg gently. "Glad it wasn’t as bad as
imagined. Please take good care of yourself."

Nifemi nodded. "Thank you." She said, looking from Kelvin to the head chef.

Paul and Dara shook hands with the two chefs. Moyo muttered a "thank you."

"Chefs, please remember to change your aprons before going into the kitchen--"
Nifemi said as Paul walked the chefs to the door. Kelvin and the head chef looked
at themselves, amused by the fact that they'd had their aprons on while at the
hospital all afternoon.

"Yes chef!" The head chef nodded with a smile and walked out of the hospital
room with Kelvin and Paul.

Moyo pulled her chair closer to the hospital bed. "So, based on the doctor's
diagnosis, you’ve been starving yourself, and that got you dizzy, hence the fall in
the restroom...it beats my imagination though—why would you starve yourself
for how many days now?"

"I was fasting, not starving."

Moyo shook her head. "I don’t --"

"Moyo, please." Nifemi said weakly, gripping her forehead with her syringe-free
hand.

99
Dara kept mute and fixed his eyes on the bottle of fluid dripping down a tiny pipe
connected by a syringe into Nifemi’s body.

***

“Really Dara? Who gets served a three-course meal in the hospital?” Nifemi asked
with a smirk as Dara uncovered a large bowl of dessert.”

Dara placed the bowl of dessert gently over the hospital bed table. “A VIP—Very
Important Patient deserves a VIP treatment.” He wiped a serviette over a spoon
and set it in the bowl.”

“Wow!” Nifemi swallowed. “How did you know Mango Shrikhand was one of my
favorites?”

“Well…I do know a lot of things about you that even you aren’t aware of.”

Nifemi stuck out her tongue in an amusingly cheeky way. “Tell me about it.” She
licked a spoonful of the mango Shrikhand.

Dara puckered his lips and touched them with his fingers. “Hmm…I kind of think
you are in love with me, but—"

Nifemi suddenly halted the spoonful of dessert half way into her mouth. “Uhn?!
She shook her head, rolled her eyes and crunched a diced piece of mango. “What
am I to do with you?”

Dara had a smirk on his face, he raised his shoulders up. “Just admit it, my
dear.”

“You don’t ever give up, do you?”

“No ma’am.” Dara pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat. He picked up a
serviette and wiped the yoghurt stain on her jaw. He held her eyes for a few
seconds and sat back.

“Thanks.” Nifemi said in a whisper, her voice betraying the sudden rush of
emotions she was determined to hide and discount.

Dara nodded and kept his lips sucked in.

“I know that look,” Nifemi said, swallowing another spoon of dessert. “Let out the
words already—no need suppressing them.”

100
“It’s nothing you’ve not heard before…there’s no point going over it,” he
swallowed, “again. I also don’t want to influence your decision.”

She sighed.

“I will always respect your decision no matter what it is” Dara said, making eye
contact with her, “…even if it hurts.”

She squinted, breaking eye contact with him. “You are a very good man, Dara,
and I love you.” She looked back at him again, “but as a friend.”

“Right.” He bit his lip.

She pressed her fingers against her forehead, unsure of her emotions. “I don’t
know, Dara. When it comes to matters of the heart, I seem to be unexperienced…I
don’t even know what love is anymore—I don’t know how to love, Dara—I thought
I do. I’m constantly hurt by those I love and I constantly hurt those that truly
love and care about me…you shouldn’t love me—I don’t deserve it—I’m messed
up—very impure—and highly dysfunctional…I will always hurt you, just like I’m
always hurting God—and my sister.”

Dara glared at her in disbelief. “And who’s feeding you with all those lies?”

“I know it, Dara—for me, it’s love if I have to beg for it, not when it comes to me
on a platter of gold.”

“That’s not true—"

“It is. Think about my relationship with my grandma, Kola—my first love, and
the other three guys I’d dated. I loved them first—and I desperately wanted them
to love me back—that made sense—even when they hurt me, I was constantly
crawling back to them. But look at God, you, my sister, and Uzo, you all love me
and are always there for me, even when I ignore and treat you all with disdain—
it doesn’t feel like love to me—because I don’t deserve it. For love to be true and
lasting, I feel like I have to earn it.”

Dara couldn’t believe his ears. He got up and walked the length of the hospital
room. “You can’t be serious Nife! Just what have you been feeding your mind
with lately? —what happened to your Bible? You stopped studying it?”

Nifemi shook her head. “Studying my Bible—it’d suddenly become a task—a

boring one at that—and I’m overwhelmed with guilt because I seldom do it!”

101
Dara sat, and rested his jaw on his clasped hands. “Now I get it—so the one-
week dry fast was to get right with God?”

“What else was I supposed to do?!” she yelled, though she hadn’t intended to.
“See Dara,” she said in a calm tone this time, “there are so many things you don’t
know about me—things that would shock you…things I don’t want any human
to know about me—but God knows every bit of it—and I’m so ashamed of
myself…I claimed to be saved, yet stuck in my sins—the longest my victory
lasted was two months…these sins always have a way of besetting me so easily—
I just give in without a fight.”

Dara smiled.

“It’s not funny!”

“Sure, it’s not. I smiled because I know exactly how you feel.”

“How would you know? You are so in love with God—so committed to him…I can
bet, sinning doesn’t come easy to you.”

Dara laughed out loud. “You got it all wrong, my dear.”

“How do you mean?”

“You said your victory never lasted beyond two months—well that’s because it
was your victory, not God’s…if you could win against the devil by fighting him,
there wouldn’t have been any need for Jesus coming to the scene.”

Nifemi sniffed in the tears.

Dara continued. “You don’t overcome by fighting, or fasting— not even crying.”

She brushed off the tears.

“The word of God says, we overcome by the blood of the Lamb and our
testimony1—that is our faith in Jesus’ victory obtained for us. It’s not our duty
to fight for victory—because Jesus already won the victory over sin and the devil
on our behalf—the only fight we are required to fight is THE FIGHT OF FAITH2

Nifemi sighed. “The fight of faith?”

“Yes, the fight of faith…let me tell you a little something about me. Even though
I’ve never been intimate with a woman physically—I’ve been mentally. I got
introduced to pornography at thirteen.”

102
“Really?” Nifemi couldn’t believe her ears. She stared at him in shock. She could
never have imagined Dara being involved in such an ungodly act.

“I got addicted to porn and when I was fifteen I started to masturbate. I hated
myself after every episode of this impure act, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I
was helpless. I felt dirty, I cried about it, prayed about it—I fought it, but victory
seemed far from reach—I finally got the victory when I was twenty-five.”

“Three years ago?”

“Yes, just three years ago…however, this victory wasn’t one I fought for,
but one obtained by Christ when He took my place, shed His blood to
cleanse me and died on the cross, that I may no longer be a slave to sin—I
had to learn to present myself to Him just the way I was, faults and all. I
had to fight to believe I was loved by God and righteous in His sight. I had
to fight to believe I had the mind of Christ even after I had just sinned; I
had to fight to believe that I wasn’t a slave to sin even though it looked like
I was. I had to fight to constantly believe in God’s mercy and forgiveness, I
fought to take hold of the eternal life I had in Christ; I fought to believe I
was saved despite the external odds, despite my struggles with sins—I
fought to stop living and let Christ live through me. It didn’t take long for
those appetites for pornography, masturbation and some other sins in my
life to go into extinction. They just didn’t appeal to me anymore, because
in true essence, it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me—and
sins just don’t appeal to Jesus Christ. Even today if I slip, I don’t wallow in
condemnation, I receive God’s mercy and quickly reckon myself dead to
sin, so that Christ can continue to live in me.3”

“Hmm—you know I struggle with similar sins too.” Nifemi said despondently and
sniffed. “I was sexually abused when I was five. There was this neighbor—
grandma would always leave me at his apartment to watch over me whenever
she went to the market with Moyo. He frequently made me do a lot of sexual
things that I didn’t understand at the time, and he warned and even threatened
me not to tell anyone. When I became a teenager, I sort of got used to it. After he
left our neighborhood, another neighbor introduced me to porn, I got addicted to
it and started to masturbate. I stopped momentarily when I went into my first
actual relationship with a boy at seventeen, and then I eventually gave my
virginity to him. After we broke up, I sunk back into porn and masturbation and
started struggling to stop it after I became born again. Usually I stopped

103
whenever I’m in a sexual relationship, but once I’m out of the relationship, I
resulted to it again. I tried so much to suppress my flesh, but it has always been
a futile effort.”

Dara shook his head. “I did try that too. If ever it works, such victory doesn’t last
long. The truth is, we have freedom from sin and every manipulation of the devil
because Christ made us free.4 All we need to do is stand strong in this freedom
by faith.5 To struggle with the flesh is to infer that sin has dominion over you
and that is a way of going back to the law. Nifemi, sin cannot have dominion
over you because you are no longer under the law, but under grace, Christ lives
in you and expresses his life through you. You were justified by faith in Christ
and you are to live each day by the same faith in Christ6—this is the only way to
experience victory, not just over sin, but in all areas of your life—your career and
marital life inclusive. God is interested in your life—every aspect of it. God’s
divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness.7 The
closer we get to God, the more we are aware of all that He’d freely given to us,
the more we have grace, that is His power working for us and through us—and
the more we have peace. So, you see, studying God’s word isn’t to keep Him
happy but to bring us to the awareness of the power of God at our disposal.
We are the ones who suffer and get hurt when we don’t study His word and get
to know His heart, we make it easy for the enemy to play with our minds and
consequently our lives and we get tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine.
Studying the Bible isn’t a routine but a boundless opportunity to realizing
the freedom and power and riches freely given to us in Christ.”

Nifemi took a long breath, disseminating into her mind the truth that had just
been expounded to her.

“We don’t fast to appease God—we fast because we want to devote a particular
time—void of distractions, exclusively to Him, because we want to know Him
more, and increase our faith in Him. This, my dear, is the good fight of faith.
God’s words instill faith in us—His word is the real deal, everything in our
lives that is contrary to His word will most assuredly give way when we
believe.”

“I am righteous! I have victory! Christ is my victory!” Nifemi suddenly said

affirmatively like her whole life depended on it. Indeed, it does. She had a big
grin on her face that was contagious.

104
Dara couldn’t help but grinned too. He looked up at the clock and squinted.
“Wow! I kept you up so late.”

Nifemi looked up. “11.30pm. it was worth it. The condemnation and guilt got
lifted off me…thanks for always being there for me, Dara.”

Dara smiled. “Thank God! I always said you were stuck with me, didn’t I? You
will always be special to me and I will always care about you.”

Nifemi reached out for his hand and squeezed it gently. They held each other’s
eyes for a moment and smiled. Dara’s heart soared. He disentangled his hand
gently and got up. He rolled away the bed table. Nifemi’s eyes followed him as he
cleaned up the dishes from the table.

“You should sleep now.” Dara said as he turned. His eyes caught Nifemi’s and
he flashed her a passing smile.

Nifemi shook her head mildly, her head still hurt from the stitches. “I don’t want
to sleep just yet—I want to study the Father’s heart—that is my Bible.”

“Oh, that’s good. I’ll just lay on the couch then.”

Nifemi nodded. Dara had volunteered to spend the night at the hospital so Moyo
could take care of her kids. Moyo hadn’t objected; she’d always trusted Dara with
her sister—he was more like their brother.

Dara pointed to Nifemi’s head, “Does it still hurt much?”

“It doesn’t hurt as much as it did earlier.”

“That’s good to know. Hmm, is there anything you want me to do for you before
I go to sleep?”

“No, thanks.” Nifemi said with a smile. “Have a great night rest—and I’m sorry
I’m making you spend the night on the couch.”

“Hold up. I chose to do this, so don’t even think about it. It’s kind of fun and I
get to spend time with you—for that I’m grateful.”

She chuckled. “I kind of like the fact that that you’re here.”

Dara grinned. He picked up her tab from the side drawer and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” Nifemi said in an undertone.

105
Dara nodded and gave her a soft pat on the cheek. “Have a refreshing night rest.”

“I will, and you do the same.”

“Yes ma’am.” Dara responded and walked to the couch. He pulled off his
sneakers and laid down, curling his legs to keep them from spilling over the
couch’s arm. It didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep.

He must have been exhausted, Nifemi thought as she looked over her tab and
caught Dara sleeping. Dara still had those personalities he had as a boy—caring
and selfless, and he still failed to close his eyes when he slept too. The corners
of her mouth turned up into a smile as she hastily returned her gaze to her tab
when Dara turned and touched his neck. He looked at her direction and laughed
softly. He knew when she was pretending, she wasn’t the type to do a good job
when it came to pretense.

Nifemi’s eyes remained glued to her tab, although she wasn’t reading the Bible
passage she had opened, but was hoping Dara didn’t think she was staring at
him while he slept. But really, wasn’t that what she was doing?

“So, you think I look even more handsome when I sleep, right?”

“Uhnn?” She asked, raising up her head.

Dara nodded, raising his nose and mouth playfully, “Uhn-uhn, I did catch you
staring.”

Nifemi laughed as she held the tab close in an embrace and looked up at him. “I
guess with you, it’s just difficult to pretend, right?”

He pulled back his lips and exposed his white and perfectly arranged set of teeth
in a broad smile.

Nifemi nodded, aware of the next thing he would say. “That’s because you know
me so well.”

He raised his head up and rested it on one hand whilst throwing a blow into the
air with the other hand. “You are such a genius. How did you know what I was
going to say?”

Nifemi smiled. “That’s because I know you so well.” She laughed upon realizing
what she’d just said. “What an influence you are, Darasimi!”

106
Dara had on his face that smirk that made him look even more attractive and
Nifemi was beginning to like it and he knew it. “A positive influence I suppose.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

“No ma’am, I do know so…by the way, it’s the first time you are calling me
Darasimi in—” he tilted his head backward, “—like ages?”

The literal meaning of Darasimi is ‘good to me.’ Her black eyes suddenly got
solemn as they gazed thoughtfully into his own. “Well, that’s because you
suddenly showed up in my life—taking good care of me—like you used to do
when we were kids—even much more…And for that, I’m truly thankful.”

Dara didn’t say a word, all he could do was held her eyes and he savored every
moment of it. He was loving this woman more by the moment, it wasn’t just
about his emotions—he knew this wasn’t fantasy, it was real—one that would
even get better with time. He only prayed it would get mutual, that she would
want him as much as he wanted her.

An image of Felix flashed through Nifemi’s mind, but it vanished as quickly as it

appeared—just the way her relationship with him had been. Dara was nothing
like Felix, he had never disappeared from her life, not even in all those years she
took him for granted. He had always stayed, even in the face of her
dysfunctions—even when she had her first boyfriend, he was still there for her
like a brother, though he was hurt, he tried to conceal it whenever she was
around and didn’t say a word about it. The emotions in his eyes were
spellbinding—they told her she was special to him and that he adored her.

Dara could stare into her eyes all night, but he gave himself a mental shake and
looked away. “Ughh…I think you should go back to your studying while I go back
to my sleep.”

Nifemi nodded and touched a side button on her tab. The screen light came on.
She unlocked the tab and continued her Bible studying. A corner of her mouth
turned up faintly and she quickly sucked in her lips to suppress the smile.

Dara observed her, he smiled, laid back on the couch and spun. Could it be that
Nifemi was beginning to feel something for him and coming to love him more than
a friend? He had always had this knowing that they were meant for each other.
Sure, he believed that there wasn’t only one person fitting to be the partner of
another. But, it was just different with Nifemi, he had never been able to look at

107
another woman the way he looked at her. He’d been in a relationship a few years
back, but he couldn’t bring himself to love the lady as much as he loved his best
friend—Nifemi. He prayed silently that God’s will be done. He twirled back and
noticed Nifemi had fallen asleep and her head was beginning to slip down the
pillow. He got up immediately, went over to her bed and quietly positioned her
head properly on the pillow. Nifemi opened her eyes briefly and muttered a word
he couldn’t grasp, but he figured it was ‘thanks.’ He pulled up the bedclothes
over her legs and gently pushed back from her face some strands of her braided
hair. He removed the tab that laid beside her and placed it on the bedside drawer.
He gazed at her beautiful but delicate sleepy face for some moments before going
back to lay on the couch.

108
 CHAPTER TEN

IT WAS a cold Friday morning of September 5—Nifemi’s birthday and it was just
perfect because it was also a public holiday to commemorate one of the Muslim
festivals, and unknown to Nifemi, her family was planning a surprise 28th
birthday party. She’d been discharged from the hospital a week ago; she’d
regained her strength and was feeding well—both on physical food and spiritual
food too. She hadn’t resumed work because of the huge bandage still stuck to
the back of her head.

Moyo walked to the window, it was the first time she was taking a break from
the birthday preps since waking up at 5.00am. It was 6.30am, but the dimness
of the sky could easily sway one to believing it was midnight. “Ughh…” She
exhaled, her eyes suddenly lacking lustre. “I really want this day to be perfect for
her.”

Paul placed a white and pink micky-mouse inspired cake delicately on the centre
table. Organized neatly on each of the edges of the table were bouquets of pink
roses. He walked over to his wife and squeezed her shoulders. He hugged her
waist from behind. “Come-on, my love—it’s going to be even more perfect than
you’d imagined it.”

Moyo spun and looked wearily into her husband’s eyes. “You think so?”

Paul planted a kiss on her forehead. “I know so…and you need to believe so too.”

Moyo sucked her lips in and nodded babyishly.

Paul let out a short laugh.

Moyo frowned at him. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry dear. It’s just when it comes to Nifemi, you kind of get transformed
into a baby, needing every assurance you can get that all would be well…and it’s
a good thing.”

109
A tear drop rolled by her cheek and Paul quickly but gently wiped it off. “I just
don’t feel that I do enough…you know she didn’t even get to enjoy that glimpse
of parental love that I got.” She sighed, “I just want her to be happy.”

Paul drew her closer and kissed the top of her head. He smoothened her hair
backward. “You know what?”

“What?” Moyo asked as she rested her head on his chest.

“You are the world best sister.”

Moyo chuckled. “You are just saying that.”

“I’m not flattering you or anything—I’ve watched you take up the role of dad,
mom and sister to Nifemi.”

She sighed. “I love her so much.”

Paul pulled away and looked down at her face. “She knows it—I know it—and
everyone knows it.”

She grinned, revealing those two cute dimples on her cheek that drew Paul to
her the first time they met.

“And I do love you—" He said with a grin as he kissed her dimples one after the
other, “—so very much.”

They heard a knock on the entrance door as he took her lips in his. He pulled
back and shook his head disappointedly.

Moyo grimaced.

Paul frowned. He shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to wait till later.”

She nodded.

They heard the knock again, it was intense this time.

He licked his lips and rolled his eyes. “I’d better get the door.”

Moyo giggled and gave him a slight push on his back. “You should,” she walked
towards one of the tree-like blue and white balloons arraigned on both sides of
the black three-settee, she made a little adjustment to the balloons and looked
up as Dara walked in carrying a large box. “Look who we have here?” She said,
a huge smile covering her face. She was expecting him to attend the birthday

110
party, but she hadn’t imagined he would beat the rain to arrive so early. It wasn’t
even 7am yet. Paul patted Dara’s shoulder as he walked past him. He was only
a few inches taller than Dara.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Dara said with so much emotion entrenched
in his tone.

Paul and his wife made some eyes-communique with each other as Dara bent
down and rested the big box beside the centre table, close to one of the pink
roses. They gave Dara an innocent smile as he got up.

"'I forgot to say good morning." Dara said good-naturedly whilst panting softly.

"Good morning Dara." Paul said, finally closing the door."

"Not so fast." Dara whispered, pointing at the closed door. "I brought some
surprises."

Moyo chuckled. "Don’t bother whispering. Nifemi is still a heavy sleeper

Dara smiled and walked back to the front door.

"Talking about surprises, Dara," Paul called out. "What could be more surprising
than this large box of yours?"

Dara only smiled before walking out. He closed the door gently, like he wasn't
convinced Nifemi was still a heavy sleeper.

Paul shook his head. "Just when will Nifemi get it? Dara loves her—and he’s a
great catch; the dream of every wise woman, I would say."

"I think she'll get it soon. I sense something already." She smiled with much
confidence, "I'm so sure."

"If you think so, then I believe you—I mean I do trust your sister-instinct. It never
goes wrong."

"Thanks for the trust, hubby. Guess what?"

Paul walked over to her, his eyes scrutinizing her face. "You want to give me that
kiss I couldn’t get earlier."

Moyo chuckled as he raised up her chin gently and kissed her lips. She kissed
him back and pulled away gently when they heard tiny footsteps from the
hallway.

111
Paul frowned. "Ughh...there we go again."

Moyo smiled and squeezed his arms gently. "I was going to give you a heads up.
My mother-instinct—"

"Good morning daddy...and mommy." Seth said, rubbing his fingers over his
eyes.

Paul looked down lovingly at his handsome son. "Good morning, my boy."

Moyo moved closer to Seth and gently pulled his hands away from his eyes. "Did
you sleep well?"

Seth nodded and looked around the living room, admiring the new look—
courtesy of the birthday decorations. "Mommy, our living room is fine today."

Moyo frowned in a rather playful manner. "Really son—I thought our living room
was always fine?"

The corner of Seth’s mouth turned upward a bit. "I know, mommy. But it's so
fine today."

Paul tossed his son's hair. "You are right, son. Our living room is so fine today—
and that's because today is Aunty Nife's birthday.

"Oh!" Seth exclaimed, hitting himself slightly on the head in reprimand. "I forgot."

Moyo nodded in sarcasm. "Of course, you did." Just the night before, Seth and
his sister had wrapped some gifts they intended to give Nifemi, giggling excitedly
as they did, and arguing on whose gift Nifemi would like more.

Grace appeared on the hallway, dragging her feet like she usually does. Moyo
rested her hands on her hips and frowned as Grace got close. “Little woman,
what did I say about dragging your feet?”

Grace stared up at her mom, her eyes filled with penitence. “Sorry mommy…I
forgot.”

“Hmm—of course you did.”

Paul chortled. “Okay mommy, if you would excuse us.” He held his kids in both
hands. “We need to get ourselves washed up and bring out our gifts before Aunty
Nife wakes up.”

112
The entrance door opened again as Paul disappeared into the hallway. Dara
walked in, holding a small plastic bag in one hand and a laptop in the other. To
Moyo’s surprise, Dara brought a crew with him—behind him were Tosin who was
carrying two flat cartons supported with both hands, and Juliet, a student at
Nifemi’s former place of work. Juliet had some gift of her own, wrapped and
tucked in a plastic bag.

Moyo was aghast as she stood still, staring at the trio, her lips parted, but no
word came out.

“Our apologies for bursting in on the supposed family surprise birthday party.”
Tosin said, still holding the boxes.

Moyo gave them a sincere smile. “No, it’s fine. I was only surprised. I didn’t know
we were expecting guests.”

Dara smiled as he set the laptop on the table. “Isn’t that why it’s a surprise
birthday party?”

Moyo gave him a jab on the shoulder. “Really huh? You are still very weird.”

Dara chuckled at the thought of how Nifemi and her sister had a lot of things in
common.

Moyo returned her attention to Tosin. “Pardon my manners Mi—" she scanned
Tosin’s finger for any sight of a wedding ring.

“Miss actually—" Tosin said with an endearing smile. “—and the name is Tosin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Tosin.”

“The pleasure is mine ma.” She curtsied.

Moyo smiled. “Please call me Moyo.” She smiled at Juliet who stood motionless,
her both hands clenching tightly to the plastic bag.

Dara moved closer, the small plastic bag still in his hand. “My apologies. Allow
me to do a proper introduction. “This is Chef Tosin, Nifemi’s co-worker at
Hallopins, and the younger lady is Juliet, a student at Nifemi’s former place of
work—she also happens to be Nifemi’s favourite student.”

Moyo nodded. “Oh, I see. Nifemi talked a lot about you two. It’s good to finally
put faces to the names.”

113
Tosin gave a wry smile. “I’m sure she didn’t say noble things about me. I’m most
certainly not her favourite co-worker. Even I am aware of the fact that I haven’t
been of noble character towards her.”

“Come-on girl, those things happen. No hard feelings at all. At least you are here
now…and that is a good sign.” Moyo said, closing the gap between them.

“It is a good sign.” Tosin assured.

Moyo stretched forth her hands towards the boxes “Let me help you with those.”

Moyo set the boxes of Hallopins’ Pizza and cup-cakes on the dining table while
Juliet and Tosin made themselves comfortable on the sofas.

Dara walked up to Moyo as she was going into the kitchen to get the pizza cutter
and some set of saucers.

“Hey sis.”

Moyo spun briefly and continued moving. “Thanks a lot Dara.”

He raised his eyebrows playfully. “For what?”

She smiled as she opened a cabinet and reached out for a set of saucers she
hadn’t used in a long time. She set the saucers on the kitchen counter. They
were a little dusty. She counted them. “Are we expecting anymore guests?”

“Hmmn.” Dara nodded. “Uzo and Bayo will be joining us.”

Moyo glared up at him. “You aren’t serious…are you?”

He nodded emphatically. “I am seriously serious—except they will be joining us

via a video call. We all know they are still having their honeymoon in Dubai—
right?”

Moyo chuckled. “Right. What am I going to do with you?”

“Just keep laughing at my jokes and thou shalt continually open to me the doors
of thy house.”

Moyo couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Dara please…”

Dara gave a wink and raised up the plastic bag in his hand. “Could you please
deliver this to Nife before she steps out of her bedroom?”

114
“Isn’t this supposed to be part of the surprise?” Moyo inquired, peeping into the
bag.

“Yes—but I think she might want to wear it for the party. I caught her admiring
the dress the last time we went grocery shopping.”

“Oh, I see… You are such a great man, Dara, and trust me, Nifemi knows that
so well. Just give her a little more time and she will be head over heels in love
with you.”

Dara nodded confidently, a broad grin plastered all over his face. “I know.”

Moyo gave a teasing grimace “Of course you do…You know what—why don’t you
clean up these saucers while I get Nifemi up and into this lovely dress of yours.”

“Sure. I was just about suggesting that.”

Moyo placed the plastic bag on the counter and moved closer to the wash-basin
to wash off the dust that had clung to her hands.

***

Nifemi was in a tight embrace with her legs, her head buried in between her
knees. Just the night before, she'd spent two hours meditating on how sin didn't
have dominion over her no more, because she was now under God's undeserved
favour. She’d slept with joy in her heart. But all that joy in her heart the night
before had suddenly gotten volatile and found its way out of her heart a few
minutes after she woke up that morning. She'd opened her eyes to the brightness
of her room—courtesy of the morning sun that had suddenly driven back the
clouds into their safe abode. She scanned her room, struggling to decide if she
should sleep in some more or get off the bed. The thoughts of Felix suddenly
filled her heart, making her crave for his touch and his kiss. The craving got
intense and her thoughts suddenly went wild...and there—she did it again! She
masturbated! Just when she thought she'd gotten the victory over this sin that
easily beset her, there she was again, sinking back into it. Her heart, torn
between shame and hurt, and hot tears dripping down her legs, she drove her
fingers deep into her thighs. "God, I'm sorry...again. Please help me...again."

She heard a sound from the door and hurriedly straightened herself over the
bed. Facing the wall, she wiped away the tears from her eyes as Moyo got close.

115
"Hey birthday girl." She'd had a bath and got dressed before finally making it to
Nifemi's room.

Birthday girl? Really? What was today’s date? She snuffled in the runny that
had built up in her nose and sat up, her face laced with a phony grin. “I totally
forgot it was my birthday.”
“Of course, you did!” Moyo smiled for a split second. How many times had she
said that same phrase that morning? She squinted and sat close to her sister.
“Did you actually forget your birthday?”
Ignoring her sister’s sudden staid expression, Nifemi tittered. “I did. And that’s
so unlike me.”
“Have you been crying?”
“Kind of. But it’s really nothing to worry about.”
“Crying on your birthday is nothing to worry about? You expect me to believe
that?”
“I just had to sort out some things with God…and then I got emotional about it.”
Moyo sighed. “Okay I won’t push it. Since, you’ve talked to God about it, I’m sure
He’s got it. It’s your birthday, and you should be happy.”
Nifemi tilted her head forward, her face resting on her cupped hands. “Right. So,
I’m twenty-eight today—is that how people get old?”
Moyo scratched her scalp briefly with a finger. “Twenty-eight isn’t old—"
“Seriously?”
Moyo frolicked with Nifemi’s braids. “Just saying…and the truth is, you don’t
even look twenty.”
“Ughhhh, so I heard.”
Moyo laughed. “Tell me, who looks so beautiful just waking up in the morning.”
Nifemi raised her head and grinned “Nifemi does.”
Moyo slapped her hand against Nifemi’s in a high-five. “Don’t I have the most
beautiful sister in the whole world?”
“Sure, you do.” Suddenly feeling enthusiastic, Nifemi got up and hurdled on the
bed many times over like a little girl who’d just received her best present ever.
She hadn’t even seen the dress Dara sent her.
Moyo got off the bed and stretched forth the plastic bag. “I have a feeling this will
excite you even more.”
Nifemi grabbed the bag.

116
“Easy girl. It’s yours anyways.”
“What do we have here?” Nifemi pulled out the green and black floral lace
collaged fitted dress. She covered her mouth in astonishment, “Oh my!” She
glowered at Moyo. “How did you—wait! Dara brought this.”
Moyo nodded.
“How did he know?” She laughed, and Moyo thought she saw admiration and
affection in her eyes. “Dara won’t seize to amaze me. You know, I didn’t even tell
him—"
“That’s because he understands you without words.”
Nifemi reminisced on those words for some moments and nodded affirmatively.
“He does.” She said in a whisper.
“Wow! I’m glad you are beginning to love him…in an intimate manner.”
Nifemi chuckled and held down the dress by the shoulders, she brought it close
to her. It was exactly her knee length.
“Happy birthday, little sis.” Moyo opened her arms.
Nifemi placed the dress gently on the bed like a fragile object and finally got down
the bed, straight into her sister’s arms. They held each other firmly.
“Thanks for being there for me these long twenty-eight years, loving me even
when I was intolerable…Moyo, you’ve been both mom and dad to me—and you’ve
equally played a perfect role as a sister.”
Tears were beginning to surge up in the eyes of the two sisters as they gripped
each other even tighter.
“You shared everything with me, including your home…you always believed in
me even when I doubted myself. Moyo, you know me so well, yet you’ve loved me
so well.”
Tears now sopping on each other’s shoulders, Moyo pulled away gently and
cupped her sister’s face in her hands. “And I can’t stop loving you.” She wiped
the tears away from her sister’s face while Nifemi did the same thing for her.
They both burst into laughter.
“Just like when we were kids.” They said in unison.
“God bless grandma.” Moyo said amidst laughter.
“And her overrated correction sticks.” Nifemi added.
Whenever they both got some smacks of grandma’s correction cane, they’d
usually console each other by helping each other wiped off their teary faces.
“I love you always.” Nifemi said, and gave Moyo a kiss on both cheeks.

117
Moyo reciprocated and they hugged one more time. “If I were you, I’d go straight
into the bathroom, get my body washed, put on this cute dress and finish it up
with some make-up and cute shoes. You don’t want Grace looking like the
birthday girl, do you?”
Nifemi rolled her eyes. “No way!”
“And I’m sure your Champs can’t wait to give you their presents. So, be quick.”
Surprised she hadn’t heard the buzz of her phone; it was a norm for her to get
lots of birthday calls and messages, Nifemi picked up her mobile phone from the
top of the drawer as Moyo stepped out of her room. She realized she’d had a low
battery the night before and had contemplated getting off the bed to get the
charger from the table-top until she ultimately fell asleep. She hurriedly plugged
her phone into the power source before getting her towel round her body. She
made her way to the bathroom and observed the door that connected the hallway
to the living room was closed.

***

Nifemi opened the door to the living room and was completely taken aback at
everything and everyone in the living room. She was cheered in with a happy-
birthday song.
Nifemi remained static, casing her opened mouth with a hand. And as you know
by now, she always had her way with tears, she didn’t need to ring a bell before
they came tumbling down her cheeks. She was thrilled at all the love from her
family and friends. Even Uzo and Bayo weren’t left out, as she could see their
lovely and happy faces on the screen of the computer. “Guys, I don’t even know
what to say?”
It’s a wonder how women cried when they were unhappy and did the same thing
when they were happy. Dara thought.
“Happy birthday girl.” Uzo said, all smiles.
“Thank you, best friend. You look—?”
“Married?” Uzo asked, giggling as Bayo held her even closer.
“Sure, you look married. And you look even more beautiful. What’s the secret?
The marriage or Dubai?”
Uzo kissed her husband briefly. “It’s the marriage.”
Everyone chortled.

118
“Enough about us.” Uzo observed her friend intensely, “Girl, you look ravishing
in that dress.”
“Thanks dear. I’ve really missed you.”
Uzo batted her lashes playfully, like one fighting back tears. “I’ve missed you too.
I really wished life was one long unending holiday though.”
“You wish.” Nifemi couldn’t help but notice that Bayo still had a glister in his
eyes whenever he looked at Uzo.
“Right, I can only wish. And since life isn’t such a long holiday, we hope to be
back in a week.”
“All right, girl. I need not remind you to bring lots of goodies. Do I?”
Uzo shook her head. “No. We sent a little birthday something to your bank
account. Ensure you go shopping. You are allowed to give yourself an
extraordinary treat today.” Her eyes travelled over to Dara who got himself busy
with the video graphing. “Dara, I trust you to give Uzo the fun of her life whilst
still remaining holy.”
They all laughed and Bayo gave Uzo’s shoulder a nudge.
“I know how to give a holy fun.” Dara assured.
“Okay everyone. We have a fun-appointment to catch in five minutes. Happy
birthday Nifemi, and do have yourself a holy fun!” Bayo said.
“I will. Thanks a bunch, guys. I really appreciate you taking out time for me.”
“It’s our pleasure. We love you.” Uzo blew lots of kisses.
“I love you guys more.”
The screen went off.
Tosin came closer and hugged Nifemi. “Happy birthday dear.”
“Thank you so much Tosin. This meant a lot.”
“Don’t mention it.” Guilt still sitting in Tosin’s chest for being so cold to Nifemi
the past few months of working with her, she hadn’t had the chance to apologize
to her since the accident. She clung unto Nifemi’s hand and stare deep into her
eyes. “Do I still stand a chance of your friendship?”
Nifemi squeezed her hand gently and friendly. “Of course, you do. And I’m so
grateful you came looking for me in the restroom. Thank you.” She chuckled.
“You’ve always cared. You only put on that façade of being mean. That wasn’t
you.”
“Aww…you are such a sweetheart.” Tosin hugged her all over again, “Thank you.”
Nifemi hugged her back.

119
Dara didn’t fail to capture the moment in his camera.
Still mesmerized by the length at which Dara went, to make her birthday
awesomely special in bringing together everyone that was dear to her heart,
Nifemi went over to her introverted teenage friend—Juliet, and gave her a big
hug.
Dara had driven Nifemi to Juliet’s house on two occasions. So, it wasn’t a
surprise that he knew where to find her.
Everyone presented their gifts to Nifemi. They took pictures and got themselves
refreshed with the Pizza and cupcakes Tosin had brought earlier, they were
presents from the Hallopins’ kitchen crew.
Dara drove Nifemi to the Cinema after dropping off Tosin and Juliet. He had to
teach his eyes not to stare at her while they had dinner afterwards at a Chinese
restaurant. Her new dress harmonized with a dangling silver earring, black shoes
and a black purse; her shimmering braided hair bonded up in a ponytail,
concealing her bandaged wound, and her eyes beamed. This woman had no idea
how beautiful and awe-inspiring she is!
The beam in her eyes suddenly left, leaving them distant and bothered. “Are you
okay?” He inquired, looking from her face to his food.
She nodded.
“You know you can always confide in me, right?”
She nodded again.
“So, tell me, what’s bothering you?”
“I don’t know.”
He pushed his hand forward and held her hand gently. “You know.”
She looked up at him briefly and dropped her head. “I did it again.”
“Did what again?”
She frowned. “It!”
“Oh…that. When?”
“This morning.”
“What provoked it?”
“Thoughts of my ex.”
“Don’t beat yourself. It hasn’t changed God’s love for you?”
She looked into his eyes. “And you? Does it change your love for me?”

120
He smiled. “Not at all. I want us to work together until you experience victory in
this area. Would you mind that?”
“I wouldn’t mind please.”
“Okay.” He picked up his phone and searched the scriptures. “I want us to get a
few scriptures on this area—you will keep confessing them until and even after
you start to experience victory over it.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
2 Corinthians 12:9; Each time he said, "My grace is all you need. My power
works best in weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses,
so that the power of Christ can work through me.
Romans 6:14; For sin shall not rule over you, for you are not under law,
but under grace.
Hebrews 4:16; So, whenever we are in need, we should come bravely before
the throne of our merciful God. There we will be treated with undeserved
kindness, and we will find help.
1 Corinthians 6:19; Don't you know that your body is the temple of the
Holy Spirit, who lives in you and who was given to you by God? You do not
belong to yourselves but to God.
1 Corinthians 6:20; God paid a great price for you. So, use your body to
honor God.
Nifemi bookmarked all the scriptures on her bible app. She kept meditating the
first scripture over and over. Her eyes seemed confused. “I don’t boast about my
weaknesses. I’m ashamed about them. I don’t understand why Paul said he was
glad to boast about his weaknesses.”
He smiled. “If you are strong in any area, most likely, you don’t need God in that
area. But, if you are weak and every attempt to help yourself has left you even
weaker than before, that is an opportunity for the power of Christ to come in and
strengthen you. When you understand that weaknesses are opportunities for the
power of Christ to come work through you and bring the best out of you, you will
gladly boast about your weaknesses—not because you are proud of them—but
because you are aware, convinced of the ability and effectiveness of the power of
Christ to strengthen you and bring the best out of you—something that you
couldn’t do on your own.

121
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

NIFEMI SPENT the rest of the evening unwrapping her birthday presents; Grace
had given her a micky-mouse knee-length night gown, while Seth got her a tiny
black belt; Juliet and some of her classmates had contributed some funds to get
her a cologne—not the expensive kind, but Nifemi was pleased with the
fragrance, and it was the motive that mattered. It was more pleasing to know she
was still remembered and loved by the students, even though she had stopped
being their teacher four months back. Her brother-in-law bought her a pair of
flat brown shoe and her divine elder sister got her a new set of undies. How did
Moyo even know she was planning on replacing her old undies with a new set?

She kept all the presents on the bed. Now it was time to unravel the biggest
present of all. What did Dara pack into that large box of his? She set aside the lid
of the box and her eyes bulged at the first sight of the box’s interior. A new laptop!
She hugged the laptop and laughed. “Can Dara be less amazing?” He amazes her
more every day. She’d only said it casually in a conversation that she needed to
buy a laptop by the end of the month. Her laptop had stopped working almost a
year back. She had gotten weary of taking it to a repairer since the laptop itself
had seen better years, functioning for her devotedly throughout her stay in the
University.

She lugged out the remaining contents of the box; a pair of four-inch black
sandal, a black medium-sized handbag, two Italian and Chinese cookery books,
a Christian-romance novel and a sealed large envelope.

“How mysterious can Dara get?” She tore off the seal and pulled out a letter—
from the Nigerian Master Chef. “What’s this about?” She read through the prints.
An invitation to the Nigerian Master Chef Kitchen for a cooking contest? She
didn’t remember signing up. But, the letter said she did. Yes, she’d heard about
the Nigerian Master Chef contest a few times, nonetheless she’d never thought
of signing up. It wasn’t her kind of thing to battle for some money by subjecting

122
herself to an unnecessary pressure in a steamily sizzling kitchen, amid a bunch
of hoggish participants and a crew of eyes-glaring critical judges.

It was obvious Dara had signed up on her behalf. She considered the idea for a
few seconds and decided in a split second. She was going to disappoint Dara.
She doesn’t have the heart to go for the contest. She most certainly won’t make
it out of the kitchen alive, much more winning.

She picked up her phone and dialled Dara. He sounded sleepy. “Did I wake you?”

“Not really.” He yawned. “I’ve been anticipating your call.”

“Of course, I would call you!” She said curtly and then took a deep breath. “Okay,
so—thank you for everything you did for me today—I mean I couldn’t imagine a
more memorable birthday.”

“Okay…” Dara replied, anticipating what would come next.

She cleared her throat to indicate it was time for more serious discussion.

Dara chuckled silently but loud enough for her to hear him.

“Seriously Dara, it’s bad enough you signed up for me without my consent.
Really? Who does that?”

“I’m not sorry.”

She retracted her head. “You are not? Then, you should go for the contest and
win the money for me!”

“You know I’m like the worst cook ever.”

“Sure, you are.”

“Come on Babe, stop being snooty—I’m not that bad. I’m still the best when it
comes to cooking noodles…in my household.”

A laughter escaped from her paused lips. “Funny!”

“Okay, so you know I can’t win the money for you if I represented you.”

“How did you manage to get me the invitation anyways?”

“Who wouldn’t invite you to their kitchen…I used two of your cooking videos from
Sister Moyo’s archive.”

123
“Moyo showed you the videos?”

Dara giggled. “I have all of them saved on my laptop.”

“You do?”

“Sure, I do. Let me make a quick confession—I can’t get enough of the videos. I
watch them every time I’m bored and missing you…please don’t get mad. There’s
just something about how real you get when you switch into cooking mode—it’s
just you without any façade.”

She was speechless for a few seconds. “Really Dara, I can’t go for the contest.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have the time…and the heart.”

“I don’t believe that Nifemi. You have both the time and the heart.”

She sighed.

“Let me ask you a question, my dear Nifemi. How long do you see yourself
working at Hallopins?”

“Well, until I’m able to save enough money to start my own restaurant.”

“Really? And how soon do you think that would be?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Exactly! Which is why you should take advantage of this opportunity. All you
need to do is do what you do best—cook and win yourself five million naira and
lots of cooking equipment, publish your own cookery book, plus the honour,
tours and invitations that come with being the Nigerian Master Chef for the next
one year.”

“You sound like I’m going to win the contest.”

“I know you would win. All you need to do is show up every Saturday, from
October to December at the Nigerian Master Chef Kitchen located at Ikeja. I don’t
mind being your driver all through the contest.”

“Ughh. Dara, you know l don’t function well under pressure. I can’t handle
competition.”

124
“Babe, you need to learn to get out of your comfort zone. Stretch yourself. Try
out things that would propel you to fulfilling your destiny. It doesn’t hurt to try.
You can’t afford to settle for what you think is safe.”

“I don’t want to settle.”

“Right. That’s the reason you should maximize your God-given gifts…You’ve
spent years honing this gift, here’s an opportunity to take full advantage of it.
You can’t keep it buried at Hallopins’ kitchen.”

She pushed up her chin slightly with a finger and gave Dara’s words some deep
thoughts. “Ughh…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can do all things through Christ that strengthens you.1 With God, there
isn’t such word as ‘impossible.2’ Remember, all things are possible when you
believe3…I still want you to pray about this opportunity though. Get to know
what God thinks of it. I just want to make sure you approach God with an open
mind—one fired up with faith, just in case he bids you go.”

Nifemi couldn’t sleep until past midnight. It was about time she had a deep
conversation with God. It was about time she admitted her vulnerability and
insecurities. It was about time she got rid of her mask. No more pretence. Yes,
she was twenty-eight and had low self-esteem. Yes, she was twenty-eight and
still trying to figure out what her life was all about. There has to be more to life
than having a good job, getting married and procreating. There were times she
felt like becoming extinct. She’d been in constant battle with depression, always
feeling undeserving of good things and wishing she was invisible—not just to the
world, but to herself. Other people deserved good things happening to them, but
not her.

That night she let God in—into every murky and stinky room in her life. No more
hiding. No more wishing she was anyone except herself. No more entering from
the back door. No more wishing she was invisible. She wanted her life back—the
real one—the one God had planned for her when He formed her in her mother’s
womb. She wanted her innocence back—yes, her innocence—the one that was
taken away from her by that thirty-year-old neighbour when she was only five;
he had convinced her to believe those perverted acts were to make her a confident
woman. But that wasn’t her reality—every episode was a shedding away of her
self-worth and her becoming a self-doubting, guilt-freak and fearful woman. Very
often, she got commended on her innocent appearance. No one knew she had

125
the most guilt-ridden mind of all…except God. There were lots of times she’d
been unnecessarily critical about other people, but truth is, she was even more
critical about herself and could hardly forgive herself whenever she did something
wrong. She didn’t approve of herself, but lived on other people’s approval of her.

“Wash me Lord, fill me up—with your Spirit. I want to know your

heartbeat—show me how to love you, show me how to live…” She cried, her
face saturated with tears and her back flattened on the tiled floor of her bedroom.
“Take away all my fears and insecurities. Help me to accept your love for
me. Help me to love myself—help me to have good thoughts about myself—
to stop thinking about what every other person might be thinking about
me…Lord, help me to think about what you are thinking about me—for
your thoughts for me are continually good.”

Nifemi prayed till past midnight, there was no mincing words. Casting all at the
feet of her LORD, she prayed her Maker to make HIS WILL plain to her and to
give her the heart to go for it—grace to stretch herself to become all that God had
planned for her.

No more being overly self-conscious and self-doubting. That night marked the
beginning of a new phase in her life. She received a word from the Lord;

She received a word from the Lord

Proverbs 14:26 (The Passion Translation): Confidence and strength flood

the hearts of the lovers of God who live in awe of Him, and their devotion
provides their children with a place of shelter and security.

She picked up her journal and wrote down the scripture. The Holy Spirit
expounded the words to her and she wrote them down in bullet points:

• Confidence and strength flood my heart because I love God and I live
in awe (profound/deep reverence and respect) of Him
• I have profound respect and esteem mingled with fear and affection
for God
• Confidence and strength rise in, swell in and overflow my heart
• I have superabundance confidence and strength
• My heart is covered, filled to excess—to its full capacity with
confidence and strength. Hence, there’s no space in my heart for fear,
timidity and low self-esteem

126
 • Praise God! My heart overflows and it’s overwhelmed with confidence
and strength
• My addiction to God, my eager inclination to His Word, my strong
attachment to God, my love and affection for God, my zeal for God
appropriately expressed by my acts of worship will provide me with a
place of shelter and security.
• I am shielded—covered and protected by God. I am free from
apprehension (anxiety and cares)
• I am confident in my safety in God
• I am assured and certain that God will never leave me nor forsake me

She read out the bullet points over and again. She felt infused with the strength
of God—the one through which she could do all things4. She prayed some more
in the Spirit.

For the first time in years, Nifemi slept void of every negative emotion—just like
a baby.

***

“So, are you going for it?” Uzo asked Nifemi over fried chicken and yoghurt at her
apartment on a Sunday afternoon after Church service. Uzo and her husband
had returned from their honeymoon the previous day.

Nifemi nodded and forgetting for a moment that there was yoghurt in her mouth,
she opened her mouth to affirm her nod with a ‘yes’, but ended up with some
drips of yoghurt flowing down her chin. She licked her lips. “Excuse me please”
she said with so much grace that Uzo batted her eye lashes and narrowed her
eyes, wondering if this was really Nifemi.

Nifemi picked up a serviette and gently wiped the patches of yoghurt off her chin.

Still giving Nifemi a straight look. “What just happened?”

Nifemi folded the serviette and placed it cautiously beside her plate of chicken
on the dining table. She looked up at Uzo. “Excuse my manners please. So, I
have decided to go for the contest.”

Uzo sat up. “Hey—hey! Hold up girl. Something isn’t adding up here. Tell me
something I don’t know, not the contest—something is different.”

127
Nifemi had a grin on her face that told Uzo she was glad she noticed a change,
the shimmer she had in her eyes since welcoming her at the door that morning
seemed to even intensify.

“You see—” Uzo pointed to Nifemi’s eyes. “—that glitter in your eyes is all new.”

Nifemi licked her yoghurt-sweetened lips again, the grin not leaving her face.
“Then I suppose it’s a good difference.”

Uzo folded her arms over her stomach, grinning. “Good is an understatement.
This is a Divine difference—I mean this isn’t only good, but perfect and pleasing.”

Nifemi laughed out this time. “You are right, my friend. It’s indeed a Divine
difference.”

Uzo nodded and motioned with her head to Nifemi for more details.

“Remember that defining moment you had as a teenager battling with low self-
esteem?”

“Sure, I do.” Uzo itched the tip of her nose for a moment and smiled. “The one I
couldn’t stop telling you about.”

“Right. That one…I had mine too.”

Uzo got up, lifted her hands up and clapped, careful not to wake up her napping
husband. “Oh my God! Ughh… thank You Jesus!” She walked over to Nifemi and
pulled her up into an embrace. “You have no idea how much I’ve prayed and
believed for this day.” Heaving a sigh of relief, she went back to sit. “That’s one
prayer point off my list.”

“Have you really been praying for me?”

Uzo sipped in some yoghurt and licked her lips. “Sure, I’ve been. Sharing my
experience with you didn’t seem to change anything, so I decided to back off and
ask God to do what only He could do. It kind of took a long time though—but I
knew He would certainly come through.”

Nifemi bit her lower lip. “It took a long time because I was stubborn. I hung
around God but refused to let God in. I only got myself busy with a bunch of
religious activities. I thought ignoring my anxieties would make them disappear.
I fasted about them, but they still didn’t go. They left only when I laid them all
at his feet—every one of them.” She exhaled. “My Jesus stooped and took them

128
off me—all of my anxieties, all of my insecurities, all of my depressions, all of my
envy—all of my guilt. The truth is, they were never mine, they were the devil’s—
he only made me carry them because I lacked knowledge.”

“Hmm.” Uzo nodded a few times. “God’s people perish because they lack
knowledge.5”

“That’s true—that was my reality.”

Uzo took another bite of the crispy chicken breast Nifemi had brought for her.
“Thank God for His goodness…and thank you for this chicken.” She swallowed
and dug her fingers into the chicken. “So tasty…”

“What do you expect from the next Nigerian Master Chef?” They heard Bayo say
from the dining entrance, his head popped in between the beaded drape.

“Hey hubby.” Uzo said, chomping another bite of chicken.

Bayo moved closer. “Hey wifey—did you miss me?”

Uzo grinned. “So very much.” They kissed briefly.

Nifemi cleared her throat playfully. “Guys, no PDA please.”

“Hey Master Chef.” Bayo hugged Nifemi, while Uzo went to get another plate of
chicken and a cup of yoghurt for Bayo.

They chit-chatted about the swell time the new couple had at Dubai and Nifemi’s
preparations for the Master Chef challenge. The couple sounded so sure she
would be crowned Master Chef. Nifemi must admit—she felt so sure herself.

Catching up with her friends was fun. Nifemi left at about five in the evening
when Bayo went into the kitchen to start dinner. And sure, she didn’t leave with
just her handbag. Uzo got her lots of Dubai goodies—mostly clothes and shoes.

***

It was a hard decision to make. The Master Chef contest was going to take ten
weeks. She would be participating among the best—that was what the invitation
letter said. She couldn’t afford to settle on what she already knew. She needed
to hone her skills even more. She needed her A-game. Her family and close
friends had advised she quit her job to allow her give full attention to the contest.

129
The Manager was kind enough to assure her the job would still be hers if she
wanted it back in three months. She was grateful for the offer, but she doubted
she would be back—at least not as an employee.

The contest would commence in two weeks. Nifemi would cease to be a staff at
Hallopins in one week.

“I can’t believe you are leaving—just when we are beginning to get along.” Tosin
said as she stacked some seasoned beef into the oven and walked back to the
kitchen counter.

All the chefs were busy as usual. Nifemi stopped the mixer and emptied the
dough on the counter-top. “We don’t have to work together to remain friends—
you know that, right?”

Tosin’s eyes lighted as she looked up from dicing the vegetables. “Does that mean
we can still be friends when you’re gone from here?”

“Sure. Why not?”

They held each other eyes for a moment and smiled.

“Thanks so much, Nifemi.”

The other chefs couldn’t help but laugh at their sudden closeness.

Kelvin giggled as he turned on the washbasin tap over his hands. “You know—I
don’t know if it’s okay to thank God for that accident in the ladies’ room…but
I’m glad it brought you guys close.”

“I’m glad it softened my heart towards Nifemi. She’s a very good person—I was
just blinded by jealousy.”

“Guys.” The head chef called out, deep-toned. “Enough of the chat please—
concentrate.”

Everyone went mute. Nifemi observed something in Kelvin’s eyes when he looked
briefly at Tosin’s direction while he wiped his hand. It was that same thing she
saw in Paul’s eyes whenever he looked at her sister, in Bayo’s eyes whenever he
looked at Uzo and in Dara’s eyes whenever he looked at her. Was Kelvin in love
with Tosin?

130
 ***

“Excuse you! Not me—I think he’s in love with you.” Tosin said to Nifemi as they
climbed down the stairs to the hotel lobby after work.

Nifemi laughed. “What makes you think he’s in love with me?”

“Everyone in the kitchen knows he likes you. He’s always looking for every
opportunity to have conversations with you and team up with you. And you need
to see how terrified he was when you had that accident.”

Nifemi grinned.

They sat at a corner of the lobby. Tosin covered her mouth as she coughed. She
cleared her throat. “So, what gives you the impression that he’s in love with me?”

“The glimmers in his eyes when he looks at you.”

Tosin’s heart leaped as he saw Kelvin approaching them. It was the first time her
heart would leap at the sight of Kelvin. What was that about? She didn’t even like
him! She felt awkward as he got closer.

“Talk of the angel!” Nifemi whispered.

“Hi Ladies.”

“Hi Kelvin.” Nifemi said amidst giggles.

Tosin seemed unable to open her mouth. She was going to say ‘hi’, but for the
sudden lump in her throat. The silence was awkward, and so was Kelvin’s stare.
She managed to smile and nod.

Kelvin returned her smile and turned his attention to Nifemi. “I guess you guys
are waiting for Dara.

“I’ll just go then. Have a good night rest.”

Nifemi’s face brightened like she just got a brilliant idea. “Why don’t you give
Tosin a ride home?”

Kelvin smiled. “I don’t mind—" He smiled down at Tosin. “—do you mind?”

Tosin smiled, and for a moment Kelvin felt excited about the idea until she finally
opened her mouth.

“I do mind.”

131
Shocked, Nifemi looked up at Kelvin and noticed his face had fallen.

His mouth turned downward, and then he smiled. “It’s okay. I will see you ladies
tomorrow.”

Nifemi couldn’t think of a word to say. She only smiled broadly as Kelvin spun
and walked away. Viewing the way which he carried his legs, Nifemi could tell he
was hurt. She shouldn’t have raised that idea in the first place. It was all her
fault. She had never seen Kelvin so hurt.

Tosin stood still, her face, expressionless.

“Tosin, that was rude—totally uncalled for.”

Tosin shrugged. “Aside working together, I don’t like the guy—not with his bald
head and all.”

Nifemi heard the buzzing of her phone. “Dara is here.” She placed back the phone
in her bag as they got up and walked to the parking area.

Since Nifemi’s resumption following the accident, Dara had made it a duty to
pick her up every evening after work. Tosin had also joined in the free ride home,
since their houses were on the same route. Though it was Nifemi’s idea that she
joined them, Dara seemed to be cool with it.

Dara opened his arms as the ladies approached him, grinning from ear to ear
like he hadn’t seen Nifemi in ages.

Nifemi smiled as she went into his arms. “You are such a comedian.”

“Don’t blame me. I missed you.” He whispered into her ear.

Tosin stood still, arms on her hips. “Someone is being partial.”

“Hey Tosin. Forgive me please. How did your day go?”

Tosin shrugged. “How come I don’t get a hug?”

Dara gave Tosin a hug. Intending to make it brief, he tried to pull away, but Tosin
seemed reluctant to let him go. He pulled away, whilst trying to be as gentle as
possible.

Tosin kept making conversations with Dara, almost ignoring the presence of
Nifemi. This was her usual habit since she started riding with them and it was

132
starting to upset Dara. Nifemi on the other hand seemed to be oblivious to the
fact that Tosin was being unnecessarily forward.

Nifemi had slept off when they arrived at the junction to Tosin’s street. To Dara’s
shock, she gave him a kiss on the cheek after she got down, and said it was just
her way of appreciating him.

Dara glanced over at Nifemi as he turned on the ignition key. He pushed forward
the car gear and glanced at her again. She appeared deep into sleep and her face
looked exhausted.

She opened her eyes slightly at the feel of Dara’s hand on hers. “Are we home?”

Dara had pulled over close to a ‘suya’ spot. “Can we talk?”

She looked around. “Here? Now?” She observed his eyes. “What’s bothering you?”

“What do you think about me?”

A puzzled expression on her face, she couldn’t seem to make sense of the strange
question. “How do you mean?”

Dara took a long breath. “Tosin has been flirting with me—and I’m not
comfortable with it. You seem to be cool with it though.”

“Oh my! I didn’t even know that. How did I miss it?” She held his hand and eyes.
“I’m so sorry.”

“Who did you tell her I was to you?”

“I told her you were just a friend.”

Dara gave a dry smile and looked away. “I see.”

Her hand still holding his, Nifemi ran her fingers into his and clung unto them.
She turned his face towards her with the other hand. His eyes appeared dim,
while his chest rose and fell. Nifemi’s heart was beating fast too, and there was
a feeling of warmth on her face. She chuckled. “I’m in love with you, Dara. And
I’ve been praying about us.”

Dara squinted and then stared intently into her eyes, his heart beating in more
rapid successions. “Can you say that again?”

“Dara, I love you.” She said in a whisper this time.

133
His mouth too dry to utter any more word, the whole world blanched as they
stared into each other’s eyes and held hands, so did all the years Dara had to
wait to hear those three thrilling words from Nifemi. He knew those words were
real. She’d waited to utter them until she was absolutely sure. The look in her
eyes and the sounds of her heartbeat were all the proofs he needed. He wanted
badly to kiss her, but he’d promised God he was going to save their first kiss for
the altar. Nifemi had once told him how she wanted to save her next kiss and
how she was praying that her man would help her achieve that.

They giggled as they drank in each other’s gaze.

“I love you.” Dara finally said.

“And I love you more.”

Dara laughed. “Then I love you most.”

Reluctant to break their first connection of love, Dara gave Nifemi’s hand a gentle
squeeze, and finally got down to buy them some spicy suya.

The drive to Nifemi’s house was a rather slow one—way less than Dara’s usual
pace. He seized every opportunity to steal glances at her. It felt like a dream, and
if it was, he didn’t mind spending forever in that dream.

134
 CHAPTER TWELVE

POWERING THROUGH e-mails at her desk, Uzo couldn’t afford the luxury of a
break at the moment, not even for a pee. She had a colossal to-do list before her,
and peeing just happened to have landed at the bottom. Crossing her legs under
her desk to buy more time, she held in the urine and continued to pounce her
keyboard. She managed to respond to three more mails and jumped off her chair.
Her team member gave a weird glance from above his cubicle.

Uzo literally ran to the restroom.

“I can’t take these drugs, I’m scared. I don’t want to bleed to death.” Uzo’s hand
on the door knob, she suddenly stopped, the voice sounded like that of a
teenager. She heard another voice, but in a whisper this time. She leaned her
ear closer to the door. “Trust me. I got it from a doctor. He assured me the
pregnancy would come out easily like a menstrual flow—”

Uzo’s heart pounded against her chest. Abortion! She forgot her reason for going
to the restroom until someone gave her a gentle jolt from behind. The young man
flashed her a crooked grin. “Are you okay?”

Uzo nodded frantically.

The young man gave her a knowing nod and walked passed her into the
restroom. Uzo went in behind him and observed the two janitors who had been
having the abortion chat.

Heaving a sigh of relief as she stepped out of the Ladies’ toilet, Uzo washed her
hand and placed it under the dryer. The door to the Ladies opened and the female
janitor walked in, a mop stick in her hand.

“Good afternoon madam.”

Uzo smiled. “Good afternoon dear.”

135
Uzo looked up herself in the mirror, observing the teenager’s countenance as she
cleaned. She looked pale and bothered. “I forgot your name.”

The janitor looked up.

Uzo nodded.

“It’s Obehi ma’am.”

Uzo rearranged her hair. “Mmm, Obehi—that’s a cute name. What’s the
meaning?”

“It means God’s hand.”

“Wow, I love that.” She pulled out a lipstick from her trouser pocket. “So, what
part of the country is Obehi from?”

“Edo state.”

Uzo added some gloss to her lips and pressed them together. She stared into the
mirror one more time and spun. “So, Obehi, do you mind me giving you a ride
home?”

Some moments of silence settled over them. Well, none of the Bankers had ever
offered Obehi a ride, so she wondered why this classy banker was offering to take
a poor janitor home—she didn’t even ask where she lived.

Uzo smiled. “I know it’s weird. The truth is, I want to have a talk with you after
work…just the two of us. So, do you mind if I give you a ride home, while we talk
on the road?”

Obehi smiled. “I don’t mind ma.” She curtsied. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Uzo gave Obehi a gentle pat on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

***

Nifemi just got herself a book shelf and some new collection of Christian
inspirational books and Christian romance novels. While she got the book shelf
set up, she stumbled on the flyer for the singles’ weekly hangout that the
Principal at her former place of work had given to her when she was mourning
Felix’s demise from her life. She had totally forgotten to check it out. She dialed
the code for automatic location and got an immediate response. Apparently,

136
there was a location just five buildings away from where she lived. She and Dara
decided to check it out on Saturday evening. The venue was pretty easy to locate
and everyone seemed very friendly.

Dara and Nifemi arrived just in time to join in the twenty-minute worship. The
presence of the Lord was overwhelming, as they lifted their hands and sang, “—
the ground began to shake, the stone was rolled away, His perfect love could not
be overcome…forever He is glorified, forever He is lifted high, He is alive…Jesus,
You are love to me, Jesus, You are everything I need, You fill me up and make me
whole—You are more than enough for me.” They prayed in tongues for a few
minutes and then sat to study the scriptures. The discussion was titled ‘toll-free.’
Someone read Jeremiah 33:3; “Call to me and I will answer you, and will
tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.” They chatted
on how singles get bored of not having someone who would always ring their line
or whom they can always talk to and be vulnerable with. The relationship
between a man and his wife is a miniature representation of the
relationship between a believer and God. Truth is, even when you are
married, you won’t always feel like listening to your spouse—there would
be times that you or your spouse might be dealing with some personal
issues and might be emotionally or even physically unavailable. Many
times, married people tend to have this subconscious way of taking God’s
place in each other’s life, and when they began to perform below each
other’s expectations, offences and troubles set in. As singles, do not think
you’re only stuck with God until you get married; we’re all stuck with God
forever. No one has the capacity to take God’s place, no matter how hard
anyone loves, it pales compares to God’s love for us. He’s the best lover
ever. He’s never too busy to pick our calls. You can be vulnerable with Him,
let Him know where it hurts. You can tell Him about that bad day you had,
talk to Him about that saucy co-worker, let Him know about that mean
boss. You can gist him about that new crush. You can tell Him all your
weaknesses and not fear what He thinks of you. Because no matter how
terrible you may think you are, God’s thoughts for you are always good.
When we call God, we never have to worry about running out of air-time,
because every call made to Him is toll-free. And He doesn’t only listen
patiently and thoughtfully when you call, He proffers solution to
everything that bothers you. So, instead of exciting yourself with a bowl
of chocolate, staring blankly at your phone, fantasizing over some

137
‘Telemundo’ romance story and crying over how there is no one you can
talk to because you are not married or in a relationship. Remember you
are in a relationship with God, you have His phone number—just call Jesus
and tell Him everything on your mind. That way, you won’t be trapped in
the habit of feeling lonesome because you have no BAE or BOO, neither
will you be in the habit of wearing your spouse out by constantly telling
him or her everything on your mind when you finally get married. God is
ever ready to listen—you can’t wear Him out.

“Wow!” Dara exclaimed as they walked back to Nifemi’s apartment, hand in

hand. “I was blessed.”

Nifemi smiled. “Me too. I wonder why it took me so long to check out the singles’
gathering.”

“Well, it’s better late than never…What do you think about us making this an
appointment every Saturday evening?”

Nifemi grinned. “It’s a yes for me.”

Dara gave a short laugh. “Have you been watching the previous seasons of the
Nigerian Master Chef on YouTube?”

Her face still bathed with smile. “Sure thing.”

Dara gave her hand a mild squeeze. “I trust my Bae.”

“I learnt from the best.” She winked at him. “What’s up with the prep for your
presentation?”

“I believe I’m fully prepared…I feel a bit apprehensive though. It’s the first time
my uncle is trusting me with a presentation. He says I’m ready. I think I am. But
why do I feel scared? I don’t know if I should use that word.”

“Hmm. Give me a second please.” She rang her sister to come open the gate. “So,
you were saying something about feeling scared. I think it’s normal to get
frightened, but it’s abnormal to be controlled by fright. Courage isn’t the absent
of fear, it is doing what you ought to do despite the fear.” She looked into his
eyes, “Don’t give the fear a thought—it is just a feeling, and it is fickle, because
it is not from God, it’s only an illusion from the devil. Just focus your thoughts
on the power of God in you, and I’m sure your company will get the contract.”

138
Dara worked at DEMI’S APP—a company founded by his uncle, who didn’t only
double as his boss, but also tripled as his dad. Uncle Demilade had been
responsible for Dara’s upkeep ever since his mom who happened to be the last
child of the family suddenly got pregnant with him at the age of forteen. Dara’s
birth father had made it clear he wasn’t interested in fathering a child at that
time, and had disappeared from their lives even before Dara was born. Dara had
no idea what his birth father looked like, neither was he interested in seeing his
face.

Moyo opened the gate in time to catch Dara staring tenderly at Nifemi.

“Thanks, my love.” Dara whispered.

Moyo gave them a playful glare, one corner of her mouth twisted sideways “Hold
on guys, what’s with the mushy-mushy.”

The twosome gave the big sister an innocent smile and didn’t utter a word.

Moyo pouted her lips and shook her head. “Right.” She stepped aside to let them
in and then, locked up the gate. “So how was the singles’ hang-out?”

“Awesome.” Nifemi grinned. “We learnt to always call God more than we call our
Boo.”

Moyo chuckled.

“Yes. Because—He always answers the phone and—calls made to Him are always
toll-free. So, no worries about bad network and low call-credits… Doesn’t that
make you want to ring Him up right away?”

***

Uzo’s eyes glued to the back of her sleeping husband, a thousand thoughts
racing through her mind. She had given Obehi a ride home as promised, and the
discussion that ensued had left her living in the city of her own imaginations.
She’d been thinking and praying all through the week.

Obehi was seventeen and pregnant. She wanted to abort; Her Aunty would send
her back to the village if she found out about her pregnancy. She arrived Lagos
only a few months ago, to work and save up enough money to enroll in the
university. She hadn’t even saved up anything, and now she was pregnant. Yes,

139
she’d had sex with her colleague, but he was only eighteen—he wasn’t ready to
be a dad, and she wasn’t ready to be a mom either. It was her first time, and she
didn’t think she would get pregnant.

The image of Obehi’s teary face flashed through Uzo’s mind. She had consoled
the teenager. The deed was done; the mistake had been made. Now, Obehi
regretted her decision to have premarital sex. But a solution was desperately
sought after—and it sure wasn’t abortion.

Uzo had pleaded with Obehi not to take the abortion pills AARON gave her, until
she figured out a better way. Of course she already had the better way figured
out, only it wasn’t a way she could go on her own. She needed her husband’s
consent and support.

She watched as her husband rolled over on the bed, now facing her. He squinted
and closed his eyes again. He was either too deep in sleep to notice his wife’s
inability to sleep or he’d given up on asking what the issue was, since her
response to his enquiry the whole week had been ‘nothing.’

He’d perceived her sudden melancholy, and all of his effort to get her to share
what was troubling her had yielded nothing.

Uzo didn’t know how to discuss the issue with her husband. She’d brought up
the idea of adoption once in a conversation, but Bayo had stressed out the fact
that he’d never thought of adopting and didn’t think he would. He preferred to
help out other people financially, he just wasn’t comfortable with bringing in
strangers to share his home.

Uzo sighed for the umpteenth time. Bayo squinted again, but this time he left
his eyes widely opened and spoke softly. “Are you going to tell me what is
bothering you?”

God, please help me to say this the right way. She stared into his eyes and sighed.

Bayo pulled her closer. “Do you have an idea how much it hurts to know that
there are things you wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just scared you would frown at the
idea.”

“And what is this mysterious idea you are scared to tell me?”

140
Uzo sat up. Her legs folded on the bed, she leaned forward.

Bayo’s back still on the bed, he folded his hands on his chest, his eyes, begging
his wife to let him into her imaginations. How else was he supposed to tell her
that whatever bothers her, bothers him as well? If it mattered to her, it mattered
to him. He sat up, rested his back on the cushion headboard and pulled his wife
closer. “Say it already.” He whispered.

Uzo chuckled. “Okay. So, there’s this teenager at my office.

Bayo’s eyes narrowed. All of this was because of some teenager at her place of
work?

“You see—” Uzo paused.

He quickly smiled to put her at ease. “I’m sorry. Go on please.”

Uzo exhaled. “She’s pregnant.”

Bayo grinned and Uzo gave him a puzzled expression. “You’re pregnant?”

“The teenager, not me…at least not yet—I’m not pregnant for now. Or have you
forgotten I just finished my monthly flow a few days back?”

“I’m sorry. So, the teenager is pregnant, and…?”

Uzo gave her scalp a tender scratch. “And I want us to adopt her baby.”

Bayo swallowed to hide his astonishment. “You want us to adopt our first child?
I don’t understand. It’s not like we have any fertility issue…do we?”

“Of course we don’t. I have no fertility issue, Bayo.”

“So, why are we adopting?”

“Because she can’t afford to take care of the baby on her own. She wants to
abort, Bayo! You don’t think we should let her kill the child, do you?”

“Okay Uzo, I’m definitely not a party to abortion, but you do know my
reservations as regards adoption.”

“Yes, I do, but I still want you to have a rethink.”

“Can’t we just offer her financial help?”

141
“Come-on Bayo, life isn’t always about money. The child needs a home, so does
the mother.”

Bayo bit his tongue as he pulled away. He took in a deep breath. “Wait, let me
get this straight. We are not only adopting the child, but the mother too?”

Uzo bloated her cheeks and deflate them. Her finger in her mouth, she chewed
her nail and nodded quietly like a child caught in the act.

Bayo let out a short scathing laugh and got off the bed. He paced about the room,
with Uzo’s eyes following him while she prayed silently that God would change
her husband’s mind.

“What’s our home? A shelter for the homeless?!”

“Come-on, Bayo. Please don’t get angry.”

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t arrogant. He only wanted

his privacy—his space. Was that too much to want?

Cautious not to utter words that would hurt his wife, he pressed his lips together
and stared at her. Her face looked loving as ever, and her eyes pleaded with him
not to get mad. Left to Uzo, she would want every homeless and needy person on
the street to come take refuge in their home. She didn’t only have a tender face,
she had a tender heart, and that was one of the things that attracted him to her.
He hated it when they argued.

While he still thought to close the gap between them, Uzo got up and walked over
to where he stood. She put her arms around him, and he couldn’t but melt in
his arms. Working his hands down the small of her back, he kissed her ear and
whispered into it, "I love you.

Uzo giggled as his whisper tickled her ear. "I know."

He rested his head on her shoulder and sighed. "I'm going to think about it."

She pulled back and cupped his face. "I know how much you like your space,
and I'm sorry this is hard for you. I just want you to think about it—and pray
about it. I'm going to respect your decision—whatever it is… I love you."

Bayo pulled her head close and combed her hair with his fingers. He took in the
fragrance of her hair—dark, shiny and long—his wife had the most beautiful
African hair he’d ever seen. “I love you.

142
Bayo couldn’t sleep the rest of the night. After his wife had drifted to sleep, he
knelt by the bed, and prayed for God’s help. He had never been cool with the
idea of bringing strangers home. But, weren’t we all strangers? Alienated
from God’s Kingdom, didn’t Jesus leave His home and endured inordinate
discomfort just so He could share His home with us?

***

Awaken by the sound of her most recent favourite worship song, still half asleep
and frowning as she gave herself a slight push off the bed. It wasn’t even dawn
yet, who could be calling her? A reluctant look at the screen of the phone got her
up, her feet in a hurry.

Startled, Bayo sat up and stared at his wife. “What happened?”

Uzo pressed the phone to her ear. “Obehi?!”

“Obehi? Who’s Obehi?”

A slight headache came upon her. She held her forehead in her hand as she
leaned against the wall.

Now fully awake, Bayo was beside his wife within the bat of an eye. He turned
her and gave her a questioningly look.

“Ughh. Obehi, please calm down and tell me where you are.”

Bayo was beginning to feel edgy. Who was Obehi, and why did his wife look so
apprehensive?

Uzo held his hand. “Okay, Obehi. Wait for me. I’m coming to get you.”

“Uzo, it’s 4am. Who is Obehi, and why are we going to get her?”

Uzo ended the call and wiped away the sudden perspiration covering her
forehead. “Babe, I’m sorry. We need to get to Obalende right away.”

“Babe? Obalende? At this hour? It’s barely 4am!”

She held her forehead again.

Bayo held down her hands. “What’s all this about.”

143
“It’s Obehi, the pregnant teen.”

Bayo nodded. “Okay?”

“She’s in trouble, homeless you may say.”

“What do you mean homeless?”

“Her Aunty is now in the know of her pregnancy and had thrown her out, with
an order for her to take the first morning bus to the village.”

“Where is she? Let’s go get her please.”

They jumped into the car and drove out of their compound. They didn’t realize
they were still in their nighties until they hit the road. Uzo stayed on the phone
with Obehi until they finally located her and brought her home.

***

Uzo led the broken and teary Obehi to one of the empty rooms, with Bayo holding
her little bit of effects. Bayo placed the tiny possessions in the wardrobe. His
back resting on the wardrobe, he stared admirably as his wife wiped off the tears
from Obehi’s face and rocked her to sleep.

Uzo gently lifted Obehi’s head off her laps, placed it on the pillow and pulled up
the quilt over her. “Hey babe.” She whispered, as Bayo walked close and pulled
her up.

“I admire you, my love. You did well.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “Really? You aren’t mad?”

Bayo kissed her on the lips. “Why should I? You know what I think?”

Uzo shook her head and kissed him back. “Hmn hmn... why don’t you tell me.”

“I think you will make a great mother.”

‘Really? You do?”

He nodded and kissed her more. “Yes.”

“Did I just sense your consent regarding the adoption?”

“I guess you just did.”

144
Her eyes filled with bright colors, she kissed her husband all over the face. “I love
you, love you, love you—”

“Hey, can we get to our room first?” Bayo joked.

Cheery, Uzo glanced back at the slumbering Obehi and pulled her husband
gently out of the room.

Bayo turned off the light as they stepped out.

145
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A BIT overwhelmed by the crowd, common sense told Nifemi to show herself the
door and save herself the shame of being shown the door by the judges. Second
guessing herself, Nifemi felt faded in the midst of the other ninety-nine
shortlisted candidates. The judges didn’t help the situation, they were ruthless
and had sharp tongues. They had shortlisted one-hundred candidates, but they
only planned to send twenty candidates into the Master Chef Kitchen.

Nifemi wanted desperately to call Dara and tell him her fears. But, Dara was in
the midst of a demo—the last demo that was supposed to get him his first
contract. She called God instead, remembering also to say some prayer on behalf
of Dara. “Strength and confidence flood my heart, and there is no room for
fear.” She muttered.

The candidates were divided into ten groups and each group was supposed to
appoint a team lead. Strangely, Nifemi’s team members chose her to be the Team
Lead. Each Team Lead had to pick a folded paper from a seemingly large pot
placed in the heart of the room. Each paper had on it a list of main ingredients
and the candidates were expected to get the printed ingredients from the pantry,
and to make not just a delicious meal, but a remarkable meal out of them. The
teams with the two best meals would be qualified to battle for the Nigerian Master
Chef.

Nifemi took a deep breath as she outspread the paper and read out the
ingredients to her team members. They discussed on the several meals that
could be cooked with lasagna.

Two of the team members got the sauce together, while the others were either
cooking the lasagna noodles, or mixing the cheese, or dicing the vegetables.

Nifemi worked on browning the ground beef, she added the onions, and garlics.
Handing over the spoon to one team member, she walked across her table to

146
check out the work of the other team members. In time to save the lasagna
noodles from getting overcooked, she picked up a kitchen towel and emptied the
cooked noodles into a colander. One of the girls overseeing the lasagna noodles
mumbled something, Nifemi paid no attention to her but walked over to the
gentle man and lady cooking the sauce. She stretched her palm forward to get
some drip of the sauce, and nodded as she leaked the sauce off her palm. “I think
the flavor is okay, since the beef also has some flavor in it.”

“You have twenty minutes to get your meal on this table.” One of the judges
screamed, causing the contestants, all dressed in black aprons to run around
the kitchen in a bid to get one ingredient or the other, and bumping into one
another in the process. “Remember to serve your meals neatly and creatively on
three plates. Also, don’t forget to keep your work stations clean.”

While Nifemi and three members of the team laid the lasagna, beef sauce and
cheese in a baking pan, she spoke politely to one team member to turn on the
oven and then to the other team members to help clean out their work station.

“Excuse you, madam Team Lead. You can’t just order everyone around as you
wish.”

What was with this lady? Disinclined to deal with another ‘Tosin’, Nifemi fixed
her gaze and attention on the baking pan.

“Come on, we are a team.” The only man in their team reminded the saucy lady.

Nifemi’s team was one of the six teams who were able to get their meals plated
on the judges’ table before the allocated time was up. The other four teams were
automatically disqualified.

After sweltering themselves out in the kitchen, the contestants were sentenced
to another hour of sweltering in the hall as they await the final verdict. Eighty
people won’t be back for the contest on the succeeding Saturday.

The three judges finally appeared on the doorway, stone-faced.

“Some of you think this is child’s play.” One of them said.

“Well, it’s not.” Another added.

‘This is a contest for the ambitious, the creative—the ones whose cooking interest
isn’t only for their family, but are determined to cook for a living.” The third judge

147
said, addressing them for the very first time. “The battle for the Nigerian Master
Chef is real, and it begins next week Saturday. On that note, only two groups
will be getting the white aprons. I want the team leads of these groups to step
out.”

Tension roofed the faces of the contestants, some of them looked up to the
heavens, obviously sending some prayers.

One of the Master Chef workers walked in, carrying with her, a bag of white
aprons. She placed it on the floor and smiled—even though her smile didn’t help
to put any of the contestants at ease.

Nifemi’s heart pounded so hard against her chest, and she prayed mutely in the
Spirit.

“Group three—and group five.”

Group five? That was Nifemi’s group. She braced up.

The third judge kept talking as the two team leads stepped out. “That you didn’t
get the white apron this year shouldn’t stop you from honing your cooking skills.
Cook more, learn more, and you can always come back next year.” He motioned
to the two team leads. “Distribute the aprons to your team members. Team three
and five, we will see you next week. Come with your A-games.”

The successful team members ran out excitedly, hugging and congratulating one
another as they picked up their white aprons.

Nifemi thought the white aprons were overrated, seeing they were no guarantees
that more people wouldn’t be shown the door. Only one winner was expected.
She looked over the other nineteen successful contestants. Each of them wanted
desperately to win. She wanted to win too. Maybe not desperately. But this was
one opportunity she wouldn’t let go by without giving it all her best. Henceforth,
there would be no longer teams, just individuals. She grinned and opened her
arms as her saucy team member extended a hug to her.

***

Obehi woke up to find a magnificent chandelier glimmering into her eyes, it

dripped with the best cut diamond and finest gold. She’d only seen such in the

148
movies. She felt the softness of the mattress, the cushion headboard, she rubbed
her hand over the large king-sized bed. She laid back on the bed. It wasn’t just
huge, but cozy. The blue and white sheets were clean and comfy too. She pressed
the sheets against her skin. She didn’t get a good view of the room earlier, since
she came in with eyes blinded by tears. She looked around the room, admiring
the rosewood wall paintings, coral blinds, large dress table with mirror, a small
glass table, sofa…

“Hey, sleepy head.” Uzo walked in with a tray of food.

“Good morning ma’am.”

She placed the tray on the glass table. “Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep
well?”

Obehi sat up, grinning from ear to ear. “Who wouldn’t sleep well in such a huge
and cozy bed?”

Lips puckered, Uzo gave her a knowing nod. “I’m glad you are in high spirit this
morning.”

“And I have you to thank for that ma. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“You are welcome, my dear... So, breakfast is served. There is baked beans, fried
sausage, bacon, boiled potatoes, fried egg, and tea. But first, you need to get
your mouth washed.”

“Wow!” Obehi’s eyes brightened as she got up and looked over the meal. This was
all too good to be true. Just the night before, she had been destitute, and now,
she didn’t only have a home, but one filled with all the amazing things she’d only
seen in the movies. She nipped herself to confirm she wasn’t woolgathering.
“How much of this food am I allowed to eat?”

Uzo smiled. “As much as you want. You can finish it all if your stomach allows
that.”

“Eh Madam, don’t be deceived by my bony structure o. In fact, I eat a lot. But
don’t worry, I will try not to empty your food store before I leave.”

Uzo let out a short laugh, and narrowed her eyes. “And where might you be
going?”

149
Suddenly looking solemn, Obehi lowered her head and bit her finger. “I don’t
know yet. Maybe the village.”
Uzo got closer and gave her chin a slight push. “Hey girl, you’ve been sobered
enough. You are not allowed to worry about a thing. Just clean yourself up and
have breakfast, let me and my husband take care of everything else.

Obehi gave Uzo a tight hug. “Thank you, ma’am. I don’t know what I would have
done without you.”

Uzo hugged her back, giving her some sisterly pats on the back. “Thank God! It’s
my pleasure. And enough of calling me madam. I would rather you called me Sis.
I’m your big sister now, Obehi, and my husband is your big brother. The both of
us are going to take good care of you and the baby. We will adopt the baby and
love him or her like our own.”

Obehi pulled away. “What?”

Uzo clasped her hands and gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Obehi. I didn’t
even ask your permission first.”

“No, no. Are you kidding me? My permission? I don’t have one. I’m all yours.”

Uzo smiled. “Okay, Obehi, you are so funny. Thank you.”

“No ma’am—I mean Sis.” She laughed. “I should be the one thanking you.” She
gave Uzo one more hug and Uzo showed her to the bathroom.

Uzo left the room, smiling unbelievably as Obehi stood bewildered by the fact
that she had a bathroom in her bedroom.

Her bedroom! Everything was too good to take in. she used to share a room with
her aunty and three cousins, and a bathroom that had no door with five other
families. Now, she got to have a bedroom and a bathroom all to herself—
everything was just all too good to take in.

***

The meeting with Obehi’s Aunt went better than they’d imagined. She made it
clear how Obehi was no longer her responsibility and how she’d call Obehi’s
mother to inform her of the sudden waywardness of her daughter, the ensuing

150
pregnancy and how she’d given her transport fare for the next available bus to
Benin.

While they were still at AUNTY ADESUA’S house, she dialed Obehi’s mom and
told her about some rich generous couple who were willing to adopt both Obehi
and her unborn child.

Obehi’s mother gave her consent with so much enthusiasm, more like one being
relieved of a weighty cargo. The poor woman couldn’t be blamed for being
unreasonably eager to give off her first child to some rich strangers. After losing
her husband ten years before, she struggled to feed Obehi and her four younger
siblings. Obehi’s decision to travel to Lagos in search of green pastures had
brought her some measure of relief. She was devastated after being dished the
appalling news of Obehi’s pregnancy, only to get her hope revived after a few
days.

Strangers or not, her family needed every help they could get. Obehi decided she
couldn’t hold anything against her mother. She was receiving so much love and
care from her foster siblings. She felt like a lost princess who had just been found
by the king and queen. The house felt like a castle. She wondered what kind of
heart Uzo and her husband had to have taken in a total stranger—a pregnant
one at that—into their home and loved her like their own.

She had sent her resignation letter to her employer and Uzo had assisted with
the delivery. News had hurled quickly through the air, and all the other janitors
had found out she was pregnant. They’d been calling one after the other. Not
that they cared, Obehi could sense sarcasm in their tones. They probably called
to spite her. She eventually chose to stop picking their calls. She wanted a new
life. The baby in her womb deserved some serenity. Much to her relief, none of
the Janitors knew where she now lived, not even her baby Papa.

Obehi had been registered for ante-natal as soon as the meeting with her aunty
was sorted out. She’d also gone clothe-shopping with Uzo in exotic malls. If all
this was a dream, she might just keep it on and never wake up to a different
reality, not the impoverished one she’d known all her life.

Her daily routine included cleaning up herself, and assisting Uzo with making
meals and doing the dishes. There was a hired help who came over to the house
every morning to ensure its cleanliness.

151
Bayo had assured her she would be enrolled for the United Tertiary Matriculation
Examination—also known as UTME—as soon as the form was on sale, and
arrangements were on to get her a lesson teacher that would coach her in
preparation for the exam. Bayo had also gotten her a bunch of textbooks she
was supposed to study. The sight of the books had brought so much luster to
her face, that Bayo wondered who gets so excited at the sight of a bunch of
textbooks.

Everything seemed to be going well for Obehi. But she felt some sort of guilt—
seeing that she was the only one enjoying a good life of affluence in Lagos, while
her family languished in dismal dearth back in the village.

Uzo noticed her awful quietness. Obehi was naturally introverted, but her recent
inaudibility had a lot to do with a blast of thoughts and not her temperament.
She went over to her room after they had dinner. Bayo cracked a lot of jokes over
dinner, but the teenager’s smile was limited only to a corner of her mouth. What
could be bothering her? Bayo had gestured to Uzo to go ahead after Obehi bade
solemn goodnight and walked up the stairs.

Uzo knocked.

Startled, Obehi quickly wrapped a towel around her.

“It’s Uzo.”

“Oh, come in Sis.”

“Hi little Sis.” Uzo closed the door behind her. She observed her grave eyes and
walked closer. “A penny for your thoughts.”

Obehi smiled, but not enough to convince Uzo. “I’m fine Sis, and I appreciate all
the love and care.” She looked around. “All these—sometimes, it feels like I’m
fantasizing. But I’m not, this is real. And it’s just too good to be true.”

“Come over here.” Uzo pulled her closer and sat her gently on the sofa. Sitting
beside her, Uzo held Obehi’s bare shoulders and stared kindly into her eyes.
“Obehi, you know there’s still something you aren’t telling me.”

Obehi bit her finger. “It’s true. I feel guilty about everything.”

“About the pregnancy?”

152
“Not really. About everything you and your husband are providing for me, the
material comfort. My family doesn’t even have the luxury of a decent meal in a
day, and here I am, eating all the delicacies in the world. I feel like a selfish brat.”

Uzo smiled. “I see.” She’d been looking for the opportunity to bring up Jesus in
their conversations and this might just be the perfect time. “Have you ever read
or heard the passage in the Bible that says, “God makes all things work together
for the good of those who love Him?1”

“I think so.”

“Obehi, you coming to Lagos, the pregnancy, my timely arrival at the restroom
when the boy who got you pregnant gave you those pills, your aunty’ s rage, your
presence in this house, my husband’s acceptance of you. All of it. All of it, Obehi,
weren’t mere coincidences. They weren’t fate. God had been on the backstage,
playing the unseen role, nudging you to your destiny.”

Her eyes looking lost, Obehi shook her head. “How do you mean Sis?”

Uzo gave a mental commendation at how easy and comfortable she called her
Sis, and smiled at the thought. “What I mean is, God was the one who brought
you to this house. That’s because He wants to change your life and then use you
to change your family. God has great plans for you, not just to bless your family’s
finances, but even much more. The financial blessing is just going to be an add-
on. God wants to build you into a strong and great woman that would bring smile
to the faces of many, by showing them how much they are loved and cared for
by God.”

Obehi bit her finger again. “I doubt God would want to use a pregnant teenager.
I’m all jacked up. He probably doesn’t want me.”

Uzo smiled and cupped Obehi’s cheeks. “He loves you, and He wants you—jacked
up and all. He had always been hovering around you, waiting for you to open the
door of your heart and let him in. And did I tell you that Jesus’ specialty is in
working on the jacked-ups?”

Obehi held Uzo’s eyes for assurance. “Really?

Uzo nodded and put her arms around Obehi. “I was once jacked up myself.”

Obehi looked hesitant. “You were?”

153
“Yes. I mean, not pregnant jacked-up, but self-absorbed, insecure and terrible
attitudes jacked up. I was angry with God for making me so fat. I hated myself.
I wanted to be everyone else but me.”

Obehi frowned, this was her role model. Someone she was beginning to look up
to. It was hard to believe she was once jacked up herself. “Why would you. You
are a very beautiful, smart and bold woman.”

“Well I didn’t quite realize I had those qualities at the time. I almost killed myself,
Obehi. Everyone seemed to have some despicable things to say about my weight
whenever I passed by, even as a child. It hurt so much I stopped going out.”

“Wow!” Obehi nodded commendably. “It’s so hard to tell you went through all
that, seeing the awesome woman you’ve become. You are such a huge blessing.
I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself. Where would I have taken refuge if you had
taken your life even before I got to meet you?”

Uzo looked Obehi over. So much wisdom in that pretty head of hers. She’d never
thought about it from that perspective. She held her hand. “Obehi, you are a
very smart lady, you know that right?”

Obehi shrugged. “Maybe.”

Uzo furrowed. “That doesn’t sound convincing. Well, I’m glad I got to meet you.
And guess who would be even gladder to have you?”

“Who?”

“Jesus. Because, then He would have the right to come into your life and make
you into an awesome woman, and then you would take the light to your family
and everyone around you. He wants to make you His princess and take care
of you more than anyone can. He already paid the price for you to have an
abundant life. He paid with His life. Obehi, He laid down His life just for you,
even when you didn’t care. He’s always been there for you. He convinced my
husband and me to take you in and care for you. There’s nothing He can’t do for
you. He’s able and willing to give every good thing to you.2”

Obehi sighed.

Uzo’s grip on Obehi got firmer. “So, what do you think?”

154
Obehi grinned, her eyes, filled with more lusters than Uzo had seen since
knowing her. “I think I love Him already.”

Uzo chuckled, pulled her closer, and gave her a big hug. They prayed while still
in each other’s arms. Uzo brought Obehi two Christian literatures, an MP3 filled
with worship songs and the gospel sermons, and a New Living Bible to get her
off a great and smooth start in her new relationship with God.

The joy in Uzo’s heart and that of her husband knew no bound as they retired to
their room. They went on their knees and worshiped God for the privilege of being
used. They prayed for Obehi, her family, and her unborn child—their child.

Cuddling, they discussed on ways to extend financial assistance to Obehi’s

family, until they finally drifted off to sleep.

155
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE SECOND week of the Nigerian Master Chef came with a very simple
challenge, or so it seemed at the beginning, until a challenge as simple as dicing
two bowls of chili pepper and onions saw two contestants through the door, and
two more joining them before the challenge was over.

The hair on Nifemi’s hands literally stood as she cut the pepper, and then with
the onions came an endless flow of fluid from her eyes and nose, leaving her
handkerchief totally soaked to the skin. Thank God, she wasn’t the type to leave
the house without at least one handkerchief in her handbag. Three of the
contestants had been disqualified due to their inability to turn off the fluid flow
from their eyes and noses, and worse, they had nothing to salvage the situation—
not even a tissue paper. The contestants weren’t allowed to share anything—not
handkerchief, not tissue paper. The judges insisted it was all part of the
forewarning about the contestants bringing in their A-games.

Some of the ostensibly fashionable ladies were a bunch of mess before the
challenge was over. They had no form of comeliness to behold—not with the
droppings from their noses and eyes.

Nifemi thought the judges were being unreasonably mean. She had an okay
performance in the second week, but the third week seemed to had taken an
even worse troll on her, as she was tempted to question why she was in the
contest in the first place. She just didn’t expect she would be under probation in
the third week of the contest.

Her face, gloomier than it was since hearing the day’s verdict. Nifemi walked in
a rather fast pace, not saying as much as a ‘hi’ as she walked past some familiar
contestants to the parking area and got into Dara’s car.

Dara, though bearing some sad news of his own shoved aside his own worries
as he noticed his woman’s unusual melancholic countenance.

156
“Babe, are you okay? How did it go today?”

“Dara, it didn’t go well at all. Remind me why I’m doing this again.”

“Come-on Nife, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Nifemi gritted her teeth. “I’m on probation. If my next cooking falls within the
worst five, I would be shown the door.”

Dara gave a knowing nod.

Nifemi sat straight. “Now you know how bad it is.”

Dara drove them to a mall. They grabbed some snacks and headed to the movies.

***

To the relief of Dara, an hour and thirty minutes in the movies seeing a Christian-
based movie—MIRACLE FROM HEAVEN did a good job in washing away the
melancholy and restoring the sheen to Nifemi’s eyes. Dara grinned as Nifemi did
a recap of the movie while they walked to the car.

“Thanks so much for everything, Dara. I feel so better already.”

Dara chuckled. “I know. And I’m glad about it.”

The sun had only started to retire back to its vista as they drove out of the mall.

Dara could feel Nifemi’s eyes on him while he drove. He shot a peep at her “What’s
up?”

Nifemi leaned forward, her hands clasped in between her legs. She giggled. “I
don’t know if I should be saying this, but then again, you already know how I
can’t pretend. Dara, I’m loving you more by the day.”

Dara grinned as he peeped at her again. “I love you, Nifemi. You have no idea
how much.”

Thanks to the traffic light that turned red. They ceased the ‘stop’ moment to stare
at each other.

“Well, I do know you love me so much you would push aside your worries to deal
with mine first. So, tell me, have you heard from the Online Mall? Did you get
the contract?”

157
Dara sighed. “Remember, I told you two companies were shortlisted after the last
demo.” He shrugged. “Somehow, the contract was awarded to the other
company.” His eyes had become reddened. “Nife, I lost the contract.”

Nifemi hugged him and gave him gentle pats on the back until they saw the
traffic light turned green. “Everything is going to be just fine, Dara.”

“I have another news.” Dara said as he started to move the car again.

“Good or bad?”

Dara looked her over in a brief and returned his eyes to the road again. “I can’t
say for now.”

Nifemi gave him a quizzical look. “Okay?”

“I got a mail from MIT earlier today.”

Nifemi leaned towards him, her eyes animating. “Massachusetts Institute of

Technology?!”

Dara nodded.

“What about?”

“I got an admission for—”

“What? An admission? I didn’t even know you applied.”

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you. I didn’t think I would get admitted.”

Nifemi gave him a jab on the hand. “Oh ye of little faith. Well, I’m a bit mad you
are just telling me now. But, it’s good news all together.” She observed his
countenance. “But how come you don’t seem excited about it?”

“I may have to defer the admission—or reject it altogether.”

Nifemi frowned. “Why is that?”

“The contract was supposed to fund my Masters’ degree program. Now that I’ve
lost the contract, I might as well lose the admission.”

“Who says you won’t get another contract.”

“How soon do you think that would be?”

158
Dara brought the car to a stop at the gate to Nifemi’s resident. He turned off the
engine and leaned backward, his hand still on the steering wheel.

Nifemi bit her lower lip. “Have you told your uncle about the admission?”

Dara shook his head.

Nifemi pulled down his hand and turned his face towards her. “Come-on my love,
why are you downcast? Give God some credit. He gave you the admission when
you didn’t think you would get it.” She smiled. “I think He’s earned your trust.
So, it’s high time you started trusting Him.”

“I do trust God.”

“Well, my dear, you don’t look like you do. If God gave you the admission, He will
fund it. You may have to defer the admission, but ultimately you will go for it.
God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory1, not according to
the contract you win or didn’t win.” She shone him a cocky smile.

Dara gave a short laugh. “What’s the brilliant idea?”

She shook her head and laughed. “You know me so well. I’m thinking I can help.”

Dara bulged his eyes. “How on earth are you going to get three million naira?”

“Oh ye of little faith. I’m going to get the money when I win the contest.”

Dara smiled. “When you win? Whatever happens to ‘if’ you win?”

“I will win.”

A car honked behind them, jolting them and causing Dara to start the engine
and move the car forward.

“I’m glad you are convinced you will win. And I’m sure of that too. But thanks,
and no, thanks. I wouldn’t take your money. It’s yours. You will use it to start
your dream restaurant.”

She gripped his hand. “Come on, my love. We are a team, remember? My dream
restaurant can wait until you are done with your studies. I’m certain you will
win so many big contracts, you would lose track of the number.”

“And what will you be doing until then?”

159
“Well I will still be left with two million naira. That’s enough to start a small
restaurant.”

Dara shook his head and turned away his face.

Nifemi spun his face and held his eyes. “Please don’t say no. I know how much
you hate to accept favors from me.”

“I hate to be a burden on you?”

“Dara, please. You are not a burden on me. How many times have I been a
burden on you, and I don’t hear you complain.”

“Babe, it’s different. You can never be a burden on me. It’s my duty to take care
of you.”

Nifemi smiled. “And it’s my responsibility to help you.”

Nifemi was able to convince Dara to hope for the best and be open to whatever
form the best might come through; including accepting favors—no, help from
her. After all, she was going to be his helpmeet. They said some words of prayer
before calling it a night.

Dara waved at Moyo and drove off as Nifemi walked into the compound.

***

Obehi’s phone vibrated for the umpteenth time. Her lesson teacher—EVA gave
her a weird look. “I said it was okay to answer your phone, right?”

“Yes, Miss Eva. But, I have nothing to say to the caller.” She got up. “Excuse me,
Miss Eva, I need to use the bathroom.”

Eyes following Obehi as she went into the house, Eva placed the marker securely
below the white board and took a seat on one of the porch swings. She needed a
break herself. She reached over to the chilled bottle of water on the tabletop and
downed half of it.

Obehi’s phone vibrated again. Not for long this time.

Eva reached out for the phone. It was an SMS from some Aaron—same Aaron
who had been calling non-stop. She thought courtesy demanded you stop ringing
a person’s line if they missed your calls after two consecutive times of ringing.

160
Her thumb half way to the screen, she contemplated if it was right to read the
message. She heard the chattering of a broken glass and immediately flung the
phone on the table. She hurried into the house to find Obehi looking numb on
the hallway, staring down at the broken tumbler and the punctured box of
pineapple yoghurt. Eva held her shoulders and shook her. “Obehi! Obehi! Are
you okay?”

Obehi nodded without saying a word.

Eva held her by the hand and pulled her outside. She sat her gently on a chair
and sprinkled some cold water over her face.

“I’m fine!” Obehi finally said, but in a rather angry tone.

Eva knew the anger wasn’t directed to her. She pushed Obehi’s phone closer to
her. “You have a message.” She went into the house and cleaned up the messy
floor.

Obehi was in a worse shape when Eva got back. She had globules on her face
that left Eva wondering if they were from the water she splashed on her face
earlier or perspiration that got out later. Her chest seemed to be rising and falling
at the same time. She looked more terrified than before.

Eva pulled another chair closer and sat beside Obehi. “Okay, Obehi, you are
beginning to scare me. What is the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

Eva gave a dry laugh. “Tell that to the fledglings. It’s written all over you.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Eva eyed her. “Obviously. And see how good you are handling it.”

“It’s no time for sarcasm please.”

“Oh, am I being sarcastic? I was only commending your great way of handling
issues.”

Obehi frowned. “Please, Miss Eva!”

They heard a honk and watched as the gateman—AZEEZ hurried out of his lodge
to open the gate. Eva looked over Obehi as Bayo drove in and was shocked at

161
her sudden dry face and relaxed countenance. Oh my! This girl can pretend for
Africa!

Bayo got down from the car and picked his laptop bag from the back seat.

“Welcome sir.” The gateman greeted.

“Thank you, Azeez. How was your day?”

“Fine sir.” The gateman curtsied and offered to help with Bayo’s bag.

“Thank you Azeez. I’ve got this. You can go back to your work station.”

Eva made an attempt to get up, but Obehi pinned her thigh to the chair. “He
likes to carry his bag all by himself.”

Eva bowed as Bayo jogged up the stairs. “Good Evening Sir.”

“Good evening, Miss Eva. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, thank you, sir.”

“So, how did the tutorial go today?” Bayo looked from Eva to Obehi, but none of
them seemed to have an appropriate response. Bayo stared at them and searched
their faces for answer. “Ladies?”

Eva grinned stupidly. “Well, it was drama—”

“Fine.” Obehi snapped.

“Dramatic, but, fine.” Eva added.

Bayo gave them a knowing nod.

Eva got up and started to assemble her things in her handbag. “I should be on
my way now, sir.”

“Okay, I hope I’m not the one chasing you though?”

“Not at all, sir.”

He dipped his hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed
a few thousand-naira notes to Eva.

Grinning, Eva curtsied as she collected the money and wrapped her arms
securely around it. “Thank you, sir.”

162
Bayo nodded and went into the house, while Obehi got her books together and
moved the white board close to the wall before going in.

“Brother Bayo.”

Bayo stretched his legs over the table. “Yes, Obehi.”

“How was work today?”

“Work was fine.”

Obehi smiled. “Do you care for anything?”

“A cup of chilled strawberry yoghurt will do.”

“I will be right back sir.” Obehi placed her books on the table, close to Bayo’s
laptop bag and left for the kitchen.

Bayo picked up the remote and flipped on a Christian channel.

Obehi pulled out a stool and placed the tray in her hand on it. She removed the
lid on the box of yoghurt and poured some into the cup.

“Thank you.” Bayo said. He emptied the content of the cup down his throat in a
bit.

“Do you want more?”

“No thanks. So, tell me, what was dramatic about today’s class?”

Obehi shook her head. “It’s irrelevant.”

“Really? Is it something funny?”

Obehi bit her finger absent-mindedly. Bayo figured it had to be something

serious. Just like his wife, Obehi bites her finger when something was bothering
her. It was funny how the two had some things in common, even though they
weren’t related by blood.

“Obehi?”

She dropped her finger. “It’s something annoying.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head.

163
“Are you feeling sick?”

She shook her head again.

“Is the baby fine?”

She nodded.

“Well, if you can’t tell me about it, I believe you can talk to your sister. And if you
are in any form of trouble, it will be good to talk about it immediately. Please.”

Obehi nodded.

Bayo got up and picked up the tray.

Obehi smiled as she watched him. She knew better than to stop him—so typical
of Bayo to clean after himself.

***

“My love…Babe…Babe.” Bayo called.

“Hmm…” Uzo opened her eyes, half-asleep.

Bayo stopped typing and looked up from his laptop. “Did you notice anything
uncanny about Obehi this evening?”

Uzo rubbed her eyes. “Uncanny? Not really…Though, her phone kept ringing
non-stop while we made dinner. She told me she had nothing to say to the caller.

Bayo nodded, his eyes looking intense. “Do you know who the caller was?”

“Not at all.”

“I see. Something tells me she’s hiding something.”

Uzo sat up. “Really?”

Bayo nodded. “She was all pensive when I drove in, only to put on a happy look
before I alighted, then Eva gave her a creepy look as she did.”

Uzo smiled. “Maybe she’s having a hard time with her study.”

“I don’t think that’s it. Eva said their class today was dramatic.”

164
“Don’t believe every word Eva says, she’s a drama queen herself.”

Bayo nodded. “Right. But I still think you should observe her closely.”

“Okay babe. Can you come to bed already?”

“Not yet dear. I need to tidy up some designs.”

Uzo pouted. “Really? What happens to me then? I don’t feel sleepy anymore.”

Bayo smiled. “Do you want some cuddling?”

Uzo nodded babyishly.

Bayo laughed. “Of course, you do.” He hibernated his laptop and went over to
the bed.

165
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IT’S INFURIATING how when you are resolute to keep some people bottled-up in
your past, they find a way to revive into your future. Face completely distorted,
Nifemi dispensed her fury on deboning the catfish before her, and then, dicing
the vegetables. She tried to keep Dennis out of her mind, but she could feel his
eyes following her as she went over to the pantry. Her legs shook, and she prayed
her nervousness wasn’t obvious—especially not to Dennis.

The judges had informed them there would be a guest judge in their midst that
weekend. Nifemi never imagined that guest would be Dennis. He had an
annoying smirk on his face when the judges introduced him earlier with a list of
all the culinary schools he had attended and how he’d been growing Wendy’s
Eatery. And yes, he was as fine as ever, maybe even more. Nifemi didn’t need to
look at the faces of some of the girls to know they were dying for his attention.

God, help me. She picked a can of baked beans from the pantry and walked back
to her cooking spot, and guess who was there—Dennis! She bit her lip, her grip
on the can became firmer. Help me Jesus.

Dennis tried not to look at Nifemi as he made conversation with another

contestant. The contestant was obviously enjoying the conversation, completely
distracted from her cooking, her eyes were on Dennis as she described the meal
she was about to cook. Dennis shook his head mentally. What a lame recipe. He
walked over to Nifemi.

Nifemi poured all of her attention on adding some vegetable oil into the hot pan.

Dennis cleared his throat. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Nifemi responded without looking at him.

Dennis observed the tidiness of her work station and nodded laudably. “It’s an
organized work station you have here.”

166
“Thank you—sir.” She added some diced onions into the hot oil and mixed them
with a wooden spoon.

Dennis chuckled. “Sir? That sounded weird.”

Nifemi kept mute and added some minced ginger to the pan.

“So, tell me, what do you have cooking?”

“Onions and ginger.” That was obvious, wasn’t it?

Dennis smiled. “Well, I don’t mean what you have cooking right now. You sure
don’t intend serving us with onions and ginger, do you?”

Nifemi gave him a brief stare and a cynical smile. “I sure don’t.” Cut him some
slack, Nife. He’s probably doing his job like all the other judges.

“So,” he looked at the badge on her chest, like he needed a reminder of her name.

Nifemi shook her head in disbelief as she added the diced vegies one after the
other, mixing them vigorously—even though it was absolutely unnecessary.

“What meal are you cooking?”

“As you can see, I have some diced and shredded vegies, diced catfish, baked
beans and diced mushroom. I really do not have a name for this recipe. This is
just me being creative with the supplied ingredients, but I’m confident it will
come out absolutely delicious.”

Dennis nodded. “It’d better be delicious enough to win five million naira.”

Nifemi ignored the sarcasm in his tone and looked up confidently at him. “I’m
positive.”

Dennis walked away and Nifemi rolled her eyes.

The lady with whom Nifemi shared the same cooking spot walked to her and
attempted to pick nothing. “Have you guys met before?”

It was obvious she was a bigmouth and wasn’t looking for anything. Nifemi licked
her lips and tried not to lose her patience. She looked up at the busybody. “What
do you think?”

The busybody nodded. “I thought so too.”

167
“Fifty minutes more.” A judge yelled. That was enough to get the busybody
running back to her work space.

It was a two course-meal challenge. The contestants were expected to get an

appetizer and a dessert ready within seventy-minutes. They were instructed to
make use of three compulsory ingredients, which included avocado, mushroom
and catfish. They were free to add as many supporting ingredients as were
available in the pantry. The competition was indeed getting fierier and at least
three people would be shown the door at the end of that day’s challenge, the
judges had said so without apology. It wasn’t like they owed anyone an apology.
There could only be one winner, and that meant every other person must fail the
competition.

The thought of every other person failing, just so a winner could emerge
nauseated Nifemi. Why couldn’t everyone be a winner in life? An answer dropped
in her mind as quickly as the question came. Everyone has the ability to be a
winner. The fact that you fail some challenges doesn’t make you a failure,
it’s only an opportunity to prepare better for the next challenge and tap
into the unseen potentials inside of you.

The sixteen contestants were called one after the other to serve their food to the
judges.

Some of the contestants got an uncouth backlash from the judges, either due to
their food presentation or the taste of their foods. Each contestant must get at
least three YES to remain in the competition. Any contestant with two YES would
be under probation, and if it was their second time of being under probation in
a row, or they got only one yes, they would be ushered out of the kitchen with a
consolation to sign up for the following year’s competition.

Nifemi already got three YES, and when it was Dennis’ turn to judge her cooking,
she looked and felt indifferent. She reminded herself that her winning wasn’t in
his hand and thank God, she already had all the YES she needed to stay in the
competition. To her shock, Dennis gave a YES too, and that qualified her to be
the winner of the day’s challenge. Having four YES in a row for both her appetizer
and dessert won her thirty-thousand-naira voucher to Shoprite. She got
congratulated by the other contestants, except the busybody who made a remark
about Nigerians always trying to influence their way to the top. Nifemi let it slide.

168
Dennis walked up to Nifemi as she cleaned up her work station. “Can I help you
clean up?”

“No, I’ve got this. It’s not honorable for a judge to help a contestant with cleaning
up.”

Dennis smiled. “Who cares about honor?”

Nifemi shook her head as she scrubbed the pan. “Well, don’t try to be friendly.
The last time I checked, you and I were far from being friends.”

“Does that mean we are enemies?”

“Well, we aren’t enemies. We are not pals either.”

Dennis held his chest and had his usual smirk on. “That hurts.”

Nifemi wiped the plates with a clean napkin and looked up at him. “Quit trying
Dennis. Your charm doesn’t work on me—not anymore.”

Dennis nodded. “So, it did work at a time, huh?”

Nifemi dumped the napkin on the counter-top and folded her arms over her
chest. Obviously becoming impatient, and more exasperating was the smirk on
Dennis’ face. She opened her mouth to tell Dennis what she thought of him, only
to be interrupted by the female judge.

“Hey Dennis, can I steal you for some minutes?”

Nifemi sighed. You should steal him forever, less I forget how to be civil. She
picked up the napkin and continued to dry the plates as the female judge held
Dennis by the hand and walked away.

Dennis was obviously the ladies’ man, and he enjoyed every bit of the attention.

***

Obehi had transferred the fifteen thousand naira she had in her account to
Aaron, but that wasn’t enough to keep him off her back. He had sent her an SMS
that read;

169
Hey Obehi, I heard our baby had opened for us a door of affluence. How selfish of
you not to remember the baby’s father in your new world of coziness. Well, I want
my own share of the treats.

Obehi had felt some sort of guilt and transferred to him the fifteen thousand
naira in her account. Just when she started to feel less guilt about the situation,
she got another text message;

Come-on Obehi, you are even more selfish than I imagined. I need one-hundred
thousand naira before the end of the week.

One-hundred thousand naira! Where on earth was she going to get such an
outrageous amount? She had picked up her phone and rang his line immediately.
Aaron didn’t let her say a word, he immediately threatened to post a nude video
of her on social media if she doesn’t send the money before the end of the week.

Nude video? How? Where did he get that from? She had shed hot tears on her
pillow when she remembered she’d been nude before Aaron on two occasions.
She couldn’t handle the thoughts of having her nude videos on social media. She
had managed to hide her panic from Uzo and her husband. But it seemed she
wasn’t doing a good job at it, seeing the couple were beginning to ask questions.
Somehow, she was able to cook up a perfect story about her family being in dire
need. The couple bought the story and transferred one hundred thousand naira
to her account. They wanted to transfer the money straight to her mother’s
account, but she insisted they transferred the money to her account. Uzo raised
a questioning brow, but Bayo said it was okay.

Aaron had insisted Obehi brought the money to his friend’s one-room apartment,
which was where he lived.

Obehi secretly pleaded with Eva to cancel the day’s lesson and begged her not to
inform her foster siblings of her request. She also pleaded with the gateman to
keep her outing a secret.

It was a Monday, Aaron had called in sick and didn’t go to work. He had a
disturbing smile on his face when he opened the door for Obehi. It wasn’t Obehi’s
first time at the apartment. It was the same apartment where she’d lost her
virginity, or rather gave it away on a platter of gold, and got pregnant too. Uzo
had said all things work together for good when you love the Lord1. She loved the
Lord. Did she? Didn’t she just lie to get some money for her ex-lover?

170
Aaron held her chin and Obehi slapped his hand away.

“Where are the videos?”

Aaron walked around her, his eyes filled with lust. He held his beard and licked
his lips. “You look beautiful—or should I say—more beautiful. Hmm. Money good
o.”

“Look Aaron, I don’t have time for all this nonsense.” She pulled out the money
from her handbag and flung it over the bed. That’s your money.” She stretched
her hand forward, “the videos.”

Aaron laughed. “I want some.”

Obehi frowned. “Some what?”

“Some flesh.”

“You must be out of your mind.”

He held her chin and kissed her. Obehi slapped him and spat on his face.

Aaron jolted her hand and pushed her to the bed. He started to unbuckle his
belt. “How dare—”

The door flew open and Bayo rushed in with two police men.

“Busted!” Aaron screeched.

The police men grabbed Aaron and pulled him out.

Bayo helped Obehi to her feet and looked her over. “Are you okay?”

She felt too ashamed to look at Bayo.

Bayo held her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Obehi remained static. She couldn’t go to their home after everything she’d done.
Lying to get money from them. She couldn’t bring herself to face Uzo. She didn’t
deserve their love, their money, their home. She shook her head. “Please Mr.
Bayo, just go home.” She picked up the money and handed it to Bayo. “Please,
take your money sir. I don’t deserve your money. I don’t deserve your home. I
don’t deserve your care. Please tell aunty Uzo I said thank you. I will just find
my way from here. She took some steps past Bayo and he pulled her back.

171
“Obehi, when we adopted you, we made a decision to be in it for the long haul.
You are family, and family stick together, even when one makes a thoughtless
error.”

Obehi went on her knees. “Brother, I’m sorry.”

Bayo pulled her up. “That’s more like it. You are forgiven, my dear.”

Obehi rubbed away the tears from her face. “Do you think sister Uzo would
forgive me?”

Bayo smiled. “She already forgave you. I called her before coming here.”

Obehi’s eyes brightened. “She’s not mad at me?!”

Bayo nodded. “She’s not. She wants you back home ASAP.”

Obehi shot him a questioning stare. “ASAP?”

Bayo smiled. “I meant as soon as possible.”

Obehi smiled. “Can we go home now?”

Bayo took a bow. “After you my lady.”

***

Dara laughed out so much Nifemi had to put the phone away from her ear.

She put away her laptop and lay on the bed. “Stop laughing already, Dara.

“Wait, what was all that fury about? I mean the way you attacked the fish and
vegetables. One would think you were butchering a cow.”

Nifemi chuckled.

The Nigerian Master Chef contest was screened at 9pm on Saturdays, and Dara
caught up with the program more often than not. When he didn't watch the
screening, he made sure to watch the contest as soon as it was uploaded on
YouTube.

“Okay.” Dara said, stopping himself. “I couldn’t help but notice that young man
with curly hair. I mean, he had his eyes on you the whole time.”

Nifemi was quiet.

172
“Hey, are you there....Oluwanifemi?

“I’m here.” She said in a whisper.”

Dara had to press the phone harder against his ear. “Babe, I can barely hear
you. Is there something you want to tell me?”

Nifemi bit her lip. “I used to know the guest judge. I mean the one with curly
hair.”

Dara listened intently.

“The thing is, I used to know him. He’s someone from my past…and I intend to
keep him there.”

“That’s okay, my love. Don’t say more.”

Nifemi chuckled.

Dara cleared his throat. “So, when are we going to utilize that voucher of yours?”

“As soon as I get a driver to take me shopping?”

“You already have one, my dear. You only need to say the word, and I shall come
racing to your house.”

Nifemi giggled. “Am I not the most favored woman to have such an incredible
man by my side?”

“I’m the most favored man to have found such a virtuous woman and have her
by my side. I love you so very much, Oluwanifemi.”

“And I love-love you so very much, Oluwadarasimi.”

Dara chuckled. “Thank you?”

“For what?”

“For loving me.”

Nifemi smiled. “Thank you for loving me first.”

There was a brief silence between them. The moment was bursting with love in
their hearts for each other. Even though they couldn’t literally see each other at
that moment, they could see the image of each other in their hearts. They knew
they wouldn’t always have to feel love to love each other. They’d talked about

173
that fact, and had decided they were going to relish the emotions when they
came, yet determined to make efforts and sacrifices to love each other whenever
those bustling hormones refused to be propelled.

“I love you, Nifemi.”

Nifemi smiled. “I know. You tell me at every chance you get, and more than the
words, you act like it always.”

“So, tell me are you going to get tired of hearing it?”

“Not at all, my love.”

“Neither would I get tired of telling you. And trust me, whenever I say those
words, I mean them, I really do.”

Nifemi’s heart soared for joy and love, and hope for the future.

“Have I told you how much I admire your performance at the Master Chef today?”

“Well, you just did.”

“You are one intelligent and creative lady. Those meals were way outside the box.
I just like how you think.”

“Hmm. So much compliments. Thank you. Thank you for pushing me towards
my dreams. So, tell me about the meeting you went for. Was it a demo for another
contract?”

“Not at all.” He said casually, “I have news.”

Nifemi rolled her eyes. “Okay?”

Dara laughed.

Nifemi chuckled, “I’m all ears.”

“And it’s good news.”

Nifemi breathed out. “Okay, I’m happy already. So, what is it?”

“Why don’t you guess?”

“Okay, let me try.” She stared at the ceiling. “You got another contract.”

“Well, I hope to. But I haven’t got another one yet.”

174
“Hmm, you got called back for the same contract.”

Dara grinned. “Such a smarty.”

Nifemi’s eyes got lightened up. “Are you for real?”

“Hmmn. I’m serious.”

“Wow! But how? Tell me everything.” She said amidst laughter.

“I got a call—at about 5pm from the contact person at the Online Mall. She asked
if I could still make it to their office today, and I said ‘yes’ without thinking. I
arrived their office at 7pm—courtesy of the traffic. She told me the company had
cancelled their contract with the other Tech Firm, and since our firm was the
second shortlisted, they were awarding the contract to us.”

Nifemi giggled. “Wow! God is good!”

“And His mercies endure forever!”

“But why was the initial contract cancelled?”

“Something about integrity. She didn’t go into details.”

“Thank God all the same. That means you won’t be deferring your admission.”

“Yes dear. I already signed the contract. It will only take two weeks to get the app
and website running, and resolving every concern that might arise with its use.
I’m so excited. I won my first contract. This has to be God.”

“Of course, it’s God. To Him be all the glory.”

Dara yawned. “Hallelujah to His name.”

Nifemi grinned. “I hear Mr. Sleep has come knocking.”

Dara smiled. “You heard right. I want us to spend some minutes in worshipping
God together before calling it a night.”

The twosome was on the phone for another ten minutes, not catching up on each
other, but worshipping God, singing and making melodies to God, both in
tongues, and in English language. With love and hope rising forth in their
hearts, they went to bed, undaunted about tomorrow, for they had full
assurance God was in control and that He was going to make all things work
for their good—He wouldn’t only guide them, but He would be their Guide.

175
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

OBEHI WATCHED with great admiration. The couple seemed so consumed with
each other, having some chitchat on the porch swing like they always did. They
didn’t even notice she’d been standing at the doorway for the past ten minutes.

Uzo laughed at something Bayo said. Bayo smiled and pulled her closer, he gave
her a brief kiss on the lips.

Uzo pulled his shirt. “Hey, not so fast!” She kissed him; the kiss lingered for a
long time. She looked into his eyes and blushed at the desire that burned in
them. She hugged him. Holding each other tightly, they smiled as their hearts
pounded against each other’s chest.

Watching them was like watching some romantic movie. Obehi grinned. She used
to think that a man stops pursuing a woman when she became his wife, but the
past two months had completely nullified that impression. Bayo still treated his
wife like he was trying to woo her. He spent quality time with her, he took her
out on dates, he sent her affectionate text messages even when he was just in
the study, and she was in the kitchen. If they’d ever argued, Obehi had never
witnessed any. A corner of Obehi’s mouth turned slightly upward in a smile at
the thought of the evening before, Uzo had taken her to the hospital for her ante-
natal care. Bayo had already prepared dinner and set the table by the time they
got back, and he was such a great cook too. He pulled out the seats for the both
of them and served them both. “Ladies first,” he’d said with a smile. Sometimes,
he bought groceries on his way from work. He was such a gentle man and a godly
man too. The smile overlaid on Obehi’s face abruptly changed into a frown. Men
like Bayo weren’t so much on the face of the earth; she didn’t even think she
deserved such a man in her life. She rubbed her belly; she was only three months
pregnant—no baby-bump yet. Really, what kind of man would want to marry a
single mother? Well, Bayo and Uzo were going to adopt the child. But still, that
wouldn’t cancel the fact that she already had a child. ‘After-one’ was what some

176
people would call her. She remembered Aaron; he was the worst thing that ever
happened to her. The good thing is, he never took nude pictures or videos of her.
Apparently, he only wanted a share of the Eniola’s wealth and couldn’t find a
way to get it other than blackmailing her into extorting the kindest people she’d
ever met.

Obehi still felt shameful about lying to take money from the couple. They had
assured her it was fine, and that they weren’t mad at her, but that hadn’t been
sufficient to completely lift away the shame that burdened her.

She batted her eye lashes and brushed away globules of tears from her eyes.
“Aaron felt no remorse about what he did,” Bayo had said after he got back from
the Police. He said Aaron confessed not to have any nude video of her after he
was tortured by the Police. Bayo had decided not to press charges, but got a
restraining order against him—he wasn’t to be seen around Obehi, neither was
he allowed to call her mobile line nor refer to her on social media. When he made
an attempt to argue about having rights to his child, the Police quickly played a
voice recorder where he’d earlier mentioned not wanting to have anything to do
with the damned child and how anyone who wanted the child owed him for the
sperm he supplied into making the child.

Bayo was kind enough to give him a ride home after the verdict and more so,
giving him another chance by letting him know God had great plans for him, and
even offering to help him if he was ready to follow God’s plans for his life and live
responsibly. Aaron had glared at Bayo for a moment, threw the door open, told
Bayo to go to hell with his damned money and banged the door afterwards.

Obehi shook her head. Such a failure! She hoped he doesn’t end up damned.

Uzo swiveled and grinned at Obehi. “Are we showing so much PDA?” she asked,
noticing the frown on her face.

Bayo swiveled too.

Obehi jolted and covered her face like one who’d been caught in the act. “I’m so
sorry for sneaking in on you.”

Bayo chuckled, his arm still around his wife’s waist. “Take away your hand from
your face ma’am.” He motioned with his hand.

Obehi obeyed and clasped her hands behind her.

177
“So, how long have you been watching?”

Obeyi chuckled. “More than ten minutes.”

Bayo raised his eyebrows. “What? How much did you see?”

“Enough to know you love and adore your wife, and can’t get enough of her.”

Bayo nodded. “Hmm. So true. In that case, you are hereby discharged and
acquitted.”

Uzo giggled.

Obehi curtsied and disappeared into the hallway, closing the door gently behind
her.

Uzo laughed. “Such a smart young woman!”

Bayo pulled her closer. “That she is.” He raked his fingers into her braided hair
and held her neck gently. “And she’s right too. I can’t get enough of you. Never
will.”

Uzo rested her head on his chest and put her arms around his waist. “Neither
can I get enough of you.”

***

Nifemi threw the cabinet door open. She stood before it for three minutes, looking
up at the several containers of seasonings, wholly clueless of what seasoning it
was she wanted to pick. Dara had been gone for two weeks. He hadn’t called her
for a whole week. And now, she felt miserable. More so, she had thought he was
going to propose to her before he travelled out of the country for his Master’s
degree, but NO, he didn’t—another reason to be more miserable.

The dinner scene the evening before he travelled played out in her head. Dara
couldn’t keep his eyes off her from the moment he picked her up at the house.
She had bought a dress purposely for the occasion and even made her hair. Just
thinking about how she had prepared made her bite her lip. What was she
thinking dressed in a black-striped, o-neck, half sleeve, two-piece suit? The back
of the dress was ankle length, while the front was knee-length. Like a gentle man
that he was, Dara held her hands as she walked on her six-inch red shoes—not

178
her kind of shoes, they were gift from her loving sister, and they came in handy
for that night. Totally a bad idea now that she thought of it. She was totally
overdressed! It was just a dinner for crying out loud! Dara must have thought she
was desperate for an engagement ring. After caressing her face with his gaze, he
dropped his fork and wiped his mouth.

“Oluwanifemi.” He mouthed, almost soundless. He doesn’t call her that unless

he wanted to say something serious. She swallowed her munched fish and
caught his eyes. They were both mute for about two minutes. For the life of her,
she could have sworn he wanted to propose, only she didn’t see any ring around.
Her heart was racing. “I love you so much.” He said, and reached out for her
hand. He circled his finger around her ring finger like he was taking the
measurement. Disappointed, she bit her lip and hoped he didn’t notice.

“I wanted desperately to propose to you tonight, but—”

“But what?” She asked snappily, before stopping herself and looking down at the
plate of spicy salmon and creamy cucumber before her. Only the salmon didn’t
look so spicy anymore. Fennel salad was one of her favorites, but not at that
moment, it suddenly looked irritating to her—she felt like throwing it down the
table. Of course, everyone would think she was going crazy. But wasn’t she?
Even everyone at home expected her to return that night with an engagement
ring on her finger. It didn’t seem like that was going to happen. She closed her
eyes. She knew her displeasure was obvious; she didn’t know how to pretend.
Dara could see the hurt in her eyes, he was holding her hand—and feeling her
pulse. She felt a sharp pain in her lower lip and prayed she hadn’t driven her
teeth so much into her lip to make it bleed. Dara kissed her wrist. She swallowed.
“I love you.” She heard him say again and opened her eyes. She opened her
mouth to say something, but no sound came forth. A big rock seemed to have
been rolled over her throat. She wanted to ask him if he loved her enough to
want to spend the rest of his life with her. He placed a finger over her lips and
hushed her softly. He rubbed his finger gently across her lower lip, sending her
heart racing almost off her chest. She saw his larynx rising and falling as he
swallowed. He took away his hand and wiped a serviette over it—it was blood-
stained. That was when she knew her lip was bleeding. She excused herself to
use the restroom and quickly picked up her black silk purse.

All appetite for the food had been lost by the time she got back from the
bathroom. They ate dessert quietly, stealing glances at each other sporadically.

179
“I can’t imagine living a whole year without seeing you, my love.” He finally said
after dessert. “I was going to propose to you tonight…but I had to stop myself.
Not because I’m not convinced you are the woman I want to continue my life’s
journey with, but because I will be gone for at least a year. I want you to still
have the freedom to choose after I’m gone. I don’t want to get you ensnared with
a ring.”

She shook her head unbelievably. “So, you think engaging me will mean
ensnaring me?”

He smiled. “It will make more sense to you after I’m gone.”

“Does that mean you still doubt my love for you, Oluwadarasimi?”

“I’m sure you love me. Our love is going to be tested; I want it to come out better
than gold, not because I gave you a ring, but because I gave you my heart. I have
given you my heart, Oluwanifemi; it’s worth more than a ring. And I want you to
choose to wait for me, not because I gave you a ring, but because I gave you my
heart. Every time I tell you I love you, I mean it.” He chuckled, “Trust me; those
three words are not sufficient to convey my love to you. You are always in my
heart…always. As soon as I return, I’m going to engage you and marry you...I
hope you will wait for me.”

She squeezed his hands tenderly, her eyes misty. “I will wait for you.”

She didn’t want to let him go after he dropped her off at the house. Even though
she was going to see him at the airport before his flight, she held him tightly,
hoping he would kiss her, she really wanted him to. At that moment she had no
resolve to stop him if he’d attempted to kiss her. She licked her lips as he stared
into her eyes. “Kiss me already.” She whispered, forgetting good morals. He
hugged her instead, the sound of his hammering heart very audible. “I want to
kiss you,” he said, “but I can’t. I’ve made a vow to God…and to you. I will
wait…Nifemi, I will wait until the time is right. Disappointed, she hugged him
tighter, drinking in his scent; she needed to get enough of his scent into her
system—enough to last a year. She didn’t let go until he whispered to her how
late it was. “I love you…so very much.” She said before letting go. She couldn’t
believe it; Dara had tears on his face. So did she.

She jolted back to reality when she heard someone screamed “Nifemi!” The
kitchen had become stuffy. She hurried to the gas and turned it off. She picked

180
a napkin and carried the pan over to the washbasin; she coughed as she ran
some water into it.

“What got you so carried away?” Moyo asked, her voice vibrating within clamped
nostrils. She closed the opened cabinet with her free hand, still clamping her
nostrils with the other hand. “We should get out of here.”

Nifemi shook her head at the burnt sauce, ambling behind while her sister had
disappeared from the kitchen. She went over to the dining table and poured
herself some water to drink.

“Who would have thought you would one day love Dara so much that you would
burn a pot of food while thinking about him.”

Nifemi ignored her sister’s comment and poured more water into the cup. She
took the couch opposite her sister in the living room. She drank in more water
and frowned at her sister who had a look that suggested she looked pitiable.
“Thanks for the concern Sis, but stop looking at me like I’m losing my mind. And
for the record, I didn’t burn a pot of food—it was just sauce.” She returned the
cup to its domicile and took the same seat.

“Hmm.” Moyo nodded in sarcasm. “What difference does it make? Thanks to you,
our dinner has been washed down the drain.”

“Well, the plan was to do something creative with the leftover from yesterday.
You can just heat it up instead. I have lost all my ideas for now.” She got up to
go into her bedroom, but Moyo pulled her into the seat beside her and cupped
her face.

“Dara loves you. I know that for sure.”

Nifemi sighed. “I know. But I miss him so much it hurts. I haven’t heard from
him in two weeks. It’s unlike him. He didn’t even reply me messages. I can’t help
but worry.”

“I understand. But what did the Bible say about worrying again?”

“I can’t remember.”

Moyo frowned. “Really?”

Nifemi nodded. “All I can think about right now is Darasimi.”

181
Moyo gave her a knowing smile. “In that case, I will remind you. The Bible says
you shouldn’t be worried about anything, but roll all your cares on God1—not
some, but all—including Darasimi.”

“I remember now. I just have so much to tell him.”

“Well, since he isn’t reachable at the moment. It’s either you let me in on those
things, or you tell them to God.”

“Ughhh.” She let out a long puff. Her eyes lost, she bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

Moyo sighed. “You obviously have more than a million things going through your
head right now.”

“I can’t even sort the thoughts.”

Moyo nodded. “I can see that. But I want you to keep one thought at the top of
them all. Dara can be trusted. Remember how long he pursued you before you
finally started to love him? Even if he can’t reach you right now, I’m sure he’s
thinking about you. He won’t leave you, not unless you leave him.”

“So what are you guys going to have for dinner?” Nifemi asked, suddenly feeling
concerned with regards to the burnt sauce.

Moyo smiled. It was obvious her little sister—not so little anymore, wanted to
change the subject. “It’s a good thing dinner didn’t work out.” Her shoulders
puffed up in pride. “My husband is taking me out for dinner tonight.”

Nifemi looked daggers at her. “Really? It’s about time he did.”

Moyo laughed.

“Seriously, he’s been too buried in his work lately.”

“I know right. He knows it too, and he’s become sober about it.”

“Thank goodness the Champs are at their grandparents. I can’t imagine

babysitting them tonight while you guys are out on dinner.”

Moyo chuckled.

Nifemi got up and walked towards the hallway.

“Aren’t you going to have dinner?”

182
She shrugged without looking back. “I don’t know. Not hungry. I might eat
cereals later.”

“Should I get you something?”

Nifemi looked back at her sister; she looked worried for her already. She smiled
to ease the pressure on her face. “Okay. And please don’t go thinking about me
during dinner. Have fun with your husband please, you need it.”

Moyo returned her smile. “Does that mean you are going to be fine?”

She wanted to say she would try, but knowing her big sister, she would probably
worry about her all night. She grinned, “I will be fine.”

Moyo smiled. “I love you.”

Nifemi whispered “I love you more” and went into the hallway with Moyo walking
and humming some unknown song behind her.

***

Nifemi stared blankly at the ceiling, her hands clasped under her head, a
thousand thoughts running through her head. It was the last week of the Master
Chef contest, she was one of the five remaining contestants, she couldn’t have
come that far on her own—it had to be God. But what if she didn’t make it—
what if she didn’t win the contest? She suddenly felt sacred—even more scared
than when the contest first began. Somehow, she had committed the last three
months of her life into the contest, she had seen herself winning the prize, she
had begun to build her future around the outcome of the contest—a positive
outcome of course. She couldn’t afford to fail. She had no idea what she would
do if she failed, going back to Hallopins wasn’t an option—she didn’t like the
idea, of course it was being sold to her, but she wasn’t going to buy it—the idea
sucks. But she was afraid that was the only practical option if she didn’t make
it through Master Chef. She could use Dara’s voice of encouragement at that
moment, but he was far away in the US, and more so, unreachable.

She reached out and picked up her phone from the top of her bedside drawer.
No message from Dara. She placed the phone on her flat belly and bit her lip.
She needed to pray, but no word came forth. Her prayer life for the past three

183
weeks has been wordless, just mere thoughts. Help me God. I really need you to
help me. “I need you to help me.” She mouthed, but voiceless.

Her phone vibrated against her belly. She jolted and picked it up, she sat up,
hoping it was her sweetheart, but it wasn’t. Felix! What does he want from her?
He had suddenly showed up out of the blues. How convenient? He thinks he
could exit and enter her life at will.

“I miss you so much, Nifemi. I really need to see you. I miss you.”

That was his tenth text message to her in two weeks. She’d been counting, except
she hadn’t been counting his phone calls—they were too numerous to keep tabs
and she didn’t answer any of it. She wasn’t interested in whatever it was he
wanted to say to her. They were done. They were over.

Her phone rang again. Another call from Felix, does he ever give up? Sure he
does. He’d given up on her once. He said she was boring, unsociable, and the list
went on. Whatever happened to his interesting and sociable girlfriend? The
phone rang again. She gave it another thought and swiped towards the green
key.

“Hello Nifemi.” He sounded excited.

She remained mute.

“How have you been?”

What does it matter to him?

“I missed you. I’m sorry about all the awful things I said to you.”

She laughed out loud.

“I know. I was an idiot.” He sounded grave this time.

“That you were!”

He was mute for a moment. “Can you still forgive me?”

Nifemi laid back. “Who has time to hold grudges?”

He sighed.

She shook her head. “So, how can I be of help to you?”

“Why do you sound so uninterested?”

184
Nifemi gave a short laugh. “Because I’m clearly not interested in you or anything
you have to say. I mean, am I supposed to be?”

“Obviously not. I was a jerk. I treated you with disregard. You have every right
to be mad at me. I wish I could see you right now. I wouldn’t mind you throw
some soft punches at me.” He laughed. “I called it soft because you are a soft
lady, Nifemi, and I say that with every sense of regards to your person.”

“Oh, so you have regards for my person now? The last time I checked, I was the
most boring lady that ever lived—that was your opinion of me.”

“That opinion was wrong. I take back those words. I was ignorant when I said
them. But now, I know better. Nifemi, you are the most understanding, loving,
domesticated and caring lady that ever lived—I could go on and on. It is true
what they say; you do not know the value of what you’ve got until you lose it.
Now I know your value, Nifemi. I want you back in my life. I need you.”

“How convenient. What do you think of me? An object you can drop and pick at
will? I’m done with you. I have a good man in my life now. He is nothing like you.
He isn’t only good looking, but has a good heart and pure intentions. Unlike you
who crushed me with your words, he washes me with his words, and helps to
bring out the best in me. He is so much in love with me I could see it in his eyes.
He adores me and thinks the best of me. So you see, my dear Felix, my heart is
taken by the right one, I have no space for you.” It was her turn to get back at
him. But was that right? Does that mean she still had some sort of bitterness
towards him? Did she even have any right to be unforgiving? Hadn’t she been
forgiven by God? He was mute and she felt terrible. “I’m sorry Felix, I didn’t mean
to spite you with my words.” At least I’m not like you, she wanted to add.

“It’s fine. I deserve every bit of it.” He sounded apologetic.

“I’m really sorry.” She said again. “I already forgave you for every crushing word
you said to me.”

“Does that mean I can still find a friendship space in your heart?”

Quite the type to ask for too much! “I can’t say no now, can I?”

“You can, but I’m hoping you wouldn’t.”

She sighed.

185
He laughed. “I take that as a yes.”

She spun over to the other side of the bed. “I suppose.”

“Thank you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are welcome.” If she was on the phone with Dara, he
would have known she just rolled her eyes. He doesn’t miss a detail of her
personality and her life in general. It was a shock that he hadn’t contacted her
in two whole weeks. So unlike him!

“I missed you.” Felix said, shaking her back to reality.

“Hmm.” She managed to say.

“Hmm? Does that mean you didn’t miss me?”

“I guess I missed you a little.”

“A little. That’s fair enough—better than nothing. But I missed you so much.”

“Whatever happened to your new classy girlfriend though?”

“She was too classy for me.”

Nifemi laughed out loud for one long minute. “Really?”

“So, now you are making fun of me huh?”

“There is no pleasing you, Felix.” She said amidst laughter. “I was too gauche for
you, and she was too sophisticated for you. Do you even know what you want? I
bet she didn’t help clean up your apartment like some lady I used to know.”

“You are right. She didn’t help clean up my apartment. She almost nagged me to
death for being so untidy with my apartment. I almost spent all my life savings
on taking her to exotic restaurants, spas and boutiques. Don’t even get me
started on the Uber rides since I have no car. She literally drained me.”

Nifemi covered her mouth to suppress the laughter that was going to erupt.
“Sorry.” She managed to say without bursting.

“When can we see?”

“Okay now Felix, you are beginning to ask for too much.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be demanding.”

186
“It’s fine. We will work out something. I’m really busy lately.”

“No problem. Thanks for giving it a thought. It means a lot.”

“You are welcome Felix. Take good care of yourself.”

“Thank you for answering the phone, Nifemi. It’s been very soothing and
enlivening talking with you.”

Enlivening huh? Coming from Felix, it had to be true.

187
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Nifemi LOOKED around her; everyone had a stark face on their necks. The five
contestants, the three regular judges and one guest judge—it wasn’t Dennis this
time, but his mom—WENDY, of WENDY’S RESTAURANT—her role model.

The kitchen was heated even before the gases were turned on. Nifemi wondered
if they were going to sublime when the gases come on. They were being addressed
by the Chief Judge—Chef ROTI. He said something amusing, but only the other
judges smiled. Clearly the contestants weren’t amused; they looked grave,
dauntless, and impatient to get the last cooking done with.

“It had been a long ten-weeks.” The chief judge continued. A hundred of you were
shortlisted, and now it’s just five of you standing. Congratulations for making it
this far. However, we all know that only one winner would emerge. Only one
person would be crowned the Nigerian Master Chef! If you’ve been bringing your
A-game before today—which obviously you have, else you wouldn’t be standing
here right now; you need more than an A-game to win this tournament. You need
to step up your game by adding some plus to the A. So far, we’ve not only tested
your ability to cook, but your creativity and speed too. Today, we will be taking
it a notch higher by giving it a different twist. You will be cooking a two-course
meal of your choice. The main ingredients are rice and plantain. It sounds
simple—however, the two main ingredients are leftovers from Wendy’s—that’s
the twist.” He winked at Wendy and she grinned. “Cooked white rice and boiled
plantain. You have the options of an Appetizer, main course, and dessert.

Nifemi smiled briefly. This had to be the simplest challenge ever. She thought
about the long two months—the challenge went from cooking in the Master Chef
kitchen, to being the chefs at a wedding ceremony and at a retirement ceremony.
Making some sumptuous meals out of leftovers sounded simple and fun, plus
that was the last practice she did the day before. To think that God had been
nudging her to practice with leftovers the whole week. God was truly good and

188
faithful. She felt confident—in God, it was obvious he hadn’t brought her that
far to leave her.1 She sighed, dismissing every fear that had been penned up in
her heart and mind.

Chef Roti was done with his long speech, leaving the floor for Wendy. Nifemi was
all ears to whatever Wendy had to say. She wished she could take notes. The
woman was versatile; she had lots of deep words in her. It was hard to imagine
that the shallow-minded Dennis came forth from her belly.

“You all are professional chefs already. It doesn’t matter if you pass this last
challenge or not. It doesn’t matter if you go home with the Nigerian Master Chef
award or not. Don’t stop dreaming. If you fail today, it doesn’t mean there is
something wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with you. Be confident and
affirm yourself. Your ultimate accomplishments in life are expressions of the
feelings you have about yourself. Do not let your life be defined by other people’s
definitions of success. Don’t stop learning. Don’t stop honing your skills. Take
your time, blossom at your own pace. If you are serious about making a
significant change in your career, you don’t need to have all the money to do so.
Trust me; all you need is to work on your paradigms. See beyond your visual
sense of sight. The way you perceive, understand and interpret situations makes
all the difference. Your paradigms determine your attitude, and ultimately your
altitude. Work on yourself. Be a solution provider. Give value to others and value
will come back to you. Success is for doers—don’t be passive. Do something
productive. Take steps. Act boldly. Be persistent.” Wendy smiled and gave the
contestants an apologetic look. “I’m sorry guys. Sometimes I talk too much. I
know you can’t wait to get this last challenge done with. On a final note, above
all things, encourage yourself in the Lord—keep your hope alive. See you all at
the top.”

There was a roar of applause in the kitchen. Wendy curtsied and adjusted her
eye glasses.

“Go back to your work station guys.” The second judge, Chef BRIDGET spoke
up. “I wish you all the best.”

Wish. Wish wasn’t enough to emerge the best. Nifemi thought about everything
Wendy had said. She was going to put in all her best. She would be bold. She
would be hopeful. And even if she failed today, she wouldn’t give up on herself,
she wouldn’t give up on her dream to set up her own chain of restaurants. She

189
would continue to hone her skills. She knew beyond reasonable doubt that she
was someone that had something to offer to the world. She smiled at the thought.

One of the other contestants, Obinna, glanced at Nifemi and frowned. She must
think she would win. Not on my watch. This is my only opportunity to make life
better for my family. I’m not going to let anyone steal that from me. Certainly not
this tiny little thing!

“Okay guys. You have thirty minutes to wow us with two different meals.” Chef
Roti announced. “Be creative. Keep your work station clean and be mindful of
the time. You are free to take as much supporting ingredients as you want from
the pantry. Your time starts now!”

The judges went back to their high platform seats, while the contestants hurried
about in the kitchen, some literally running, picking utensils, vegetables,
seasonings, with both necessary and unnecessary ingredients, as much as their
hands could reach—their hands, working faster than their minds.

Nifemi took a deep breath as she got to the pantry. She opened the exotic Master
Chef double-door fridge and reached out for a can of sweet corn—a clearly longer
and stronger arm suddenly appeared and grabbed the can of sweet corn,
brushing away her hand. She frowned and swiveled. It was Obinna. “That wasn’t
called for. You saw me reaching out for that can—you literally snatched it from
my hand.”

Obinna grinned like he’d just won the tournament. “Clearly I got it first.”

Nifemi shook her head. It was obvious the guy wanted to make trouble. They had
less than thirty minutes. She ignored him and returned her attention to the
fridge, picking up two chicken breasts, broccoli, butter, carrot, asparagus, green
and red bell peppers, avocado, and spring onions. She threw them into her
shopping basket and hurried to the food shelf. Keeping Obinna at arm’s length
as much as possible, she picked up some seasonings and powdered chili pepper.
She checked her timer—she had twenty minutes to get her meals cooked and
the remaining five minutes to get them meticulously on the plates—random
plating attracted negative scores.

She hurried back to her work station. One last look at the leftover white rice and
boiled plantain on the countertop, and she got a perfect idea. She was going to
make a starter and main course. The appetizer she pictured wasn’t something

190
she had made before. But wasn’t that what Master Chef was all about—getting
inventive. She’d been able to come up with lots of recipes of her very own within
the last ten weeks of the contest—both in the kitchen and during her individual
prep classes at home. She divided the rice into two halves and blended one split.
Each contestant got two full plantains. She picked one of the plantains and
placed it on the chopping board—first she divided it into two, and then cut each
halve into several long rectangular pieces. She emptied the blended rice into a
small bowl, added some raw egg, seasoning and chili pepper to the rice puree.
She whisked the mixture with an egg whisker and gently added the pieces of
plantain, mixing them in with a fork until they were richly coated. She rubbed
some butter over a baking pan and arranged the coated plantain neatly in the
pan. She took it to the oven and hurried back to her work station. She washed
the chicken breast and all her vegetables. She placed a saucepan on the stove
and turned the gas on. She cut each of the chicken breast into two lumps and
seasoned them. The flame that was beginning to erupt from the hot saucepan
reminded her it was time to add in some vegetable oil. She forgot to pick that.
Eyes wide, she turned off the gas and ran to the pantry. She picked up a bottle
of vegetable oil, and sighted some slices of bread. She could make some bread
crumbs and coat the chicken with it. That would make some nice crisp. No! She
didn’t have much time. She discarded the idea, picked up some garlic and ginger
and ran back to her work station. She poured in a little oil into the sauce pan
and turned on the gas. She peeled off the back of the garlic and ginger and chafed
them into the hot oil, mixing them into the oil with a wooden spoon until they
had become translucent. She placed the wooden spoon gently on the chopping
board and lifted the chicken into the pan with a turning spatula. She picked up
the multipurpose dicer and began to chop all her vegetables and the remaining
plantain. It was pretty easy and fast using the kitchen multipurpose dicer—all
she had to do was fix in the choppers that had the shapes she wanted her
vegetables to take. She added more seasoning to the chicken and flipped it over.
She bent the pan a little, scooped in some oil with a teaspoon and poured the oil
over the chicken—the cooked part of the chicken had become golden brown. She
smiled at the result. She glanced at her timer. She had fifteen minutes more! She
ran over to the oven and pulled out her plantain coated in rice puree. The name
was a mouthful—she had no idea what to call it, at least not yet. She couldn’t
think of recipe names just yet. She would figure out the name after the contest.
The other contestants glanced at her as she walked back with her baked plantain

191
coated in rice puree. She was the only contestant crazy enough to bake, seeing
they had just thirty minutes to get two meals ready. Well, the rice and plantain
were already cooked; the baking was only to get the seasoned rice puree into the
plantain. She set the pan on the countertop and ran over to the pantry to get a
can of mushroom soup—almost running into Obinna on her way back, she gave
him an apologetic look, but he glared at her, his hand in a fist, he gave himself
a soft jab in the neck. Nifemi wondered what that meant—she mouthed a ‘sorry’
and walked past him back to her work station. It was the second time the guy
was acting weird towards her. Aside the fact that he was overbearing and self-
absorbed, creepy seemed to be a new addition to his list of awful characters. She
shook him off her head—she was his major antagonist in the competition, it was
obvious he wanted to distract her. She removed the four lumps of chicken from
the saucepan and set them on a dish. She added a little more oil to the pan and
poured in her finely diced plantain—tossing them until they had become
yellowish-brown. She poured the contents in a colander seated in a bowl and
replaced the saucepan on the gas.

“You have ten more minutes!” One of the judges announced.

Wow! The time was going by so fast! She had five minutes to get her vegetables
cooked. She added a little oil into the saucepan. After a few seconds, she began
to add in her vegetables, and then the seasoning and chili. She didn’t want to
cook the vegetables with water; she ran to the pantry again and picked a bottle
of soy-sauce. She added some of the soy-sauce into the vegetable and stirred.
While the vegetable was cooking, she decided to set her appetizer on the plate.
She took a bite of the baked plantain coated in rice puree—it tasted yummy! She
gave a satisfactory nod, and arranged them neatly on the middle of four plates—
one plate for each judge. She picked up two of the fried chicken, cut them into
tiny strips—they were cooked just perfectly. She smiled and set the strips of
chicken around the coated plantain on each of the four plates. She stirred the
vegetable with the turning spatula and mixed the fried plantain into the
vegetables. She turned it one more time and set it aside.

“You have five more minutes.” Another judge announced, “I expect you to start
getting your food on the plates by now”

Panic struck Nifemi. She didn’t manage her time well today. She still had to warm
up the mushroom soup and rice and then tidy up her work station! She looked
over Obinna and caught him glaring at her—he was already plating his food, and

192
he had a smirk on his face. Ughhh! So annoying! She wasn’t about to give up.
She poured the mushroom soup into a small pot and placed it on the stove. She
started to scoop the vegetable onto four plates. By the time she finished with the
vegetables, the mushroom soup was warm enough to be eaten. She set it aside,
emptied the remaining halve of white rice into another small pot and set it on
the gas, she added a little butter and covered the pot. She picked up the pot of
mushroom soup and scooped the soup on top of the coated plantain, pouring in
more soup until it flowed under the pieces of chicken.

“You have three minutes more!”

It was Wendy’s voice this time. Nifemi could feel Wendy’s eyes glaring at her. Her
hands started to shake. She dropped the pot of mushroom soup; it almost
skidded down the countertop. She pushed it in, picked up a knife and set the
remaining two fried chicken on the chopping board, she cut each into two and
set each slice beside the vegetable. She held her thighs together—less she’d peed
into her pants in the Master Chef Kitchen. She wasn’t about to be the reason why
a Nigerian Master Chef video went viral. God, I could really use the ministry of
some angels right now—not to pee on her behalf, but to help her get her foods to
the judges in time, and to help clean her work station.

“Guys!” The chief judge, Chef Roti called.

Everyone looked up. Was the time up already? She couldn’t bear to look at her
timer. Nifemi could see the reflection of her face on the faces of the other
contestants—tensed was the picture—everyone, except Obinna who had already
plated his food. It was indeed his lucky day.

“The guest judge just pleaded on your behalf,” Chef Roti continued, “Five minutes
have been credited to you, so you have six more minutes to get your food set on
the plates.”

Everyone sighed and smiled—everyone, except Obinna—the smirk on his face

was completely wiped off. Thank you, Holy Spirit!” Her rice was warmed up. Her
timer beeped. She chuckled. She’d forgotten the timer had such function—it
beeped whenever the set time was up—everyone knew that, right? She turned
off the gas, picked up a bigger spoon with more depth and scooped some rice,
she flattened the surface of the spoonful of rice with a spatula and turned the
rice onto one of the plates which already contained the vegetables and sliced
chicken—she repeated the same for each of the plates—one spoonful of rice each.

193
That was it! All her meals were ready! She could feel Wendy smiling at her, not
that she was looking, she tried not to glare at the woman, but the virtual eyes
behind her head just interpreted a message to her brain—Wendy was watching
her and smiling pleasantly. She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and looked
at her timer—three minutes more. She picked up a serviette, cleaned up some
tiny stains on the side of some of her dishes, and then began to clean up her
work station—laying the pots inside one another, wiping off the pieces of
vegetables and grains of rice on the counter top and pouring them into the trash
can. She ran some water onto her hand and then she heard—

“Time is up! Stand back!”

She turned off the tap and picked up a napkin, took two steps back as she wiped
off the water from her hands.

Chef Roti leaned forward, elbows on the table, his chin resting on his clasped
hands and eyes piercing the contestants. It was time for serious business—no
mercy! Nifemi wondered what THE JUDGEMENT DAY would look like, when the
world would have passed away, and everything in it. Sure there would be
tension, but it wasn’t going to be like this judgment day in the Master Chef
kitchen, as no sort of competition was required to enter into eternal life—
God so loved the world and had given His only begotten Son, all that was
required of every human was to believe in the Son—Jesus, who gave up His
life as a sacrifice to purchase the salvation of every man,2 for all have
sinned, and none was deserving of God’s eternal glory—not one!3 Thank
God for Jesus! Thank God for mercy!! Thank God for salvation!!!

“Rose, please step forward with your food.” Chef Bridget called.

Nifemi observed Rose’s plates as she stepped forward.

Chef Bridget glared at the plates, and then at Rose. “White rice, sauce and fried
plantain—that was all you could come up with?”

“I’m so disappointed!” Chef Roti added.

“Not impressed at all!” the third judge, Chef LAWAL, who hardly speaks joined.

Only Wendy seemed lenient, but clearly unimpressed. “Come-on Rose, you are
smarter than this. I mean you couldn’t have come this far if you weren’t. Anyone
on the street could have put this together…I believe this was your main course?”

194
Rose nodded, one hand on her forehead and the other behind her.

“What’s the other meal?” Wendy asked.

“It’s a dessert.”

“Where is it?”

“In the freezer.”

Wendy tipped down her glasses and smiled at her. “Go get it.”

Rose ran to the fridge, and hurried back with four small bowls of dessert arrayed
on a tray. They looked mouthwatering.

All the judges smiled as they took one spoon after another.

“I would definitely want to have this served at my restaurant.” Chef Roti spoke
up, licking his lips.

“I don’t mind paying a million naira for this.” Wendy added, giving Rose a
thumb’s up.

Rose was all smiles as all the judges applauded her dessert recipe and asked
how she arrived at such tasty dessert with leftover rice and plantain.

It was obvious from Rose’s explanation that she wasted most of her time on the
dessert—she blended the rice and then the plantain, added them together to
obtain a fine mix, made some sugar syrup, added some egg-white, milk, colorant
and flavor until she obtained a homogenous mixture before storing them in the
freezer.

All the judges gave Rose a Yes for her dessert and sort of neutralized it with an
equal amount of No for her main course.

Obinna was next. With each yes from the judges came more pads on his already
high shoulders. He bowed and turned back grinning from ear to ear. Chef Roti
said he was indeed a Master Chef material. He winked at Nifemi as he went back
to his work station.

Nifemi rolled her eyes.

Two other contestants were called, and then Nifemi. So far, Obinna was the best.
Nifemi sent some muted supplications and then thanksgiving to God as she
stepped forward with her plates of appetizer displayed on a tray. She set each

195
plate before the judges and immediately sprung back to get her main course. By
the time she got back to the judges, they were devouring her appetizer and
grinning as they did. She chuckled. That was a good sign!

“Wow!” Wendy exclaimed. “I knew there was something special about you. You
are a natural.”

“Don’t I just admire the way you think.” Chef Lawal added.

“Let’s have the main course please.” Chef Roti demanded, licking his lips.

Nifemi set each plate of the main course before them. She clasped her hands on
her behind, and observed their faces as they ate.

“The chicken is well cooked.” Chef Roti spoke. “The vegetable, a top-notch, and
I’m so pleased with the way you tossed the fried plantain into the vegetable…well-
seasoned. Everything worked together with the rice. Perfect! Master Chef
Material!”

Nifemi couldn’t stop grinning. “Thank you, sir.”

“You are a natural, Nifemi.” Chef Lawal added.

“What can I say?” Chef Bridget seemed lost for words. “You had me forgetting my
resolution to watch my weight. Look at my plates—they’re almost empty!” Indeed,
they were! “You are—” She blew Nifemi a kiss.

Still grinning, Nifemi curtsied. “Thank you, ma.”

Wendy removed her glasses. “Nifemi, there are great contents in that beautiful
head of yours. You are a perfect mix—beauty plus brains. I will want these two
recipes on my restaurant menu.”

Okay, now she was going to cry—tears of joy. Even if she didn’t win the contest,
those words from the judges were enough to induce anyone with the needed
energy to soar on the wings of destiny. She swiped tears from her eyes. “Thank
you, ma’am.”

The contestants waited patiently at their work stations while the judges joined
heads together and deliberated for five minutes before stepping forward. Chef
Roti beckoned on the five contestants to step forward. All the judges gave the
contestants a round of applause as they came forward and stood on a single file.

196
Chef Roti called out the names of the last two contestants and bade them farewell
from the Master Chef kitchen, leaving Obinna, Rose and Nifemi as the last three
standing.

Wendy pulled out a card from an envelope, suspense was written all over her
face, even though she already knew the fate of each of the remaining three
contestants. Rose was third. She’d been excited even before her name was called.
The judges beckoned on her to step forward. She did, curtsying as she shook
their hands.

“Now, we’re left with the second and first position.” Wendy continued. “This was
a hard nut to crack. Even after so much deliberation, we couldn’t reach a
consensus. Obviously, Obinna and Nifemi, you guys are both Master Chef
Materials.”

Does that mean they were both going to be crowned Master Chefs?

Wendy interrupted Nifemi’s thoughts. “We’ve decided that both of you go through
one more challenge.”

“What?” Obinna yelled.

“Yes!” Wendy frowned. She obviously didn’t like the arrogance of the guy.

“The both of you should step forward, please.”

Nifemi’s face was blank, so was her mind. To think she thought she was done
competing.

Chef Roti presented them with one printed paper each. “That is one of my cake
recipes. The ingredients and method are well spelt out. You have one hour to get
it on the plate. Remember, it’s my recipe. The taste and appearance will tell if
you paid attention to details.

Obinna’s eyes were blood-shot. He looked exhausted and out of ideas.

“You can get all the ingredients in the pantry.” Chef Bridget said. “You have one
hour, and your time starts now!”

The twosome ran to the pantry, and picked up shopping baskets. They went from
shelf to shelf, picking the required ingredients.

197
Baking wasn’t Obinna’s forte—more reason to be angry. He didn’t look friendly
at all, and Nifemi made sure to stay out of his way.

Banana and chocolate were the major ingredients for the cake. Nifemi read
through the process—in between the lines, and followed it one step at a time.
She had her cake in the oven after twenty minutes—five minutes before Obinna.
She waited and prayed in the Spirit—voicelessly. The manual said if all the major
ingredients were in the right quantities, the cake would be baked in twenty-five
minutes. She wished she could make conversations with Obinna, but he didn’t
look in the mood to talk, especially not with her. Nifemi bit her lips. She
remembered for the first time in two hours how much she missed Dara. He still
hadn’t contacted her. She reminisced on every moment they spent together, and
how she had come to love him—more than a friend of course. She looked forward
to doing life with him. She remembered Felix. It felt good that he would actually
contact her again and more so, swallowed his words. She smiled, and took a brief
glance at Obinna. He looked stone-faced, staring blankly at the oven. She stole
gazes at the judges; they seemed engrossed in whatever it was they were chatting
about—like good old friends. Her timer beeped, so did the oven. She’d literally
thought through the baking process. Protecting her hands with a pair of kitchen
glove, she prayerfully removed the pan of cake. She set the cake on the table
counter and let it cool off for five minutes.

“You have ten more minutes.” Chef Lawal spoke up as Obinna was pulling out
his own cake.

Nifemi drove in a cutter gently into the cake; she lifted up triangular cut cakes
onto each plate. She set them aside and wiped off the crumbs of cake on the
countertop.

“You can serve us if your cake is ready.” Wendy called out.

Nifemi arranged her plates on a tray and took them to the judges, setting each
plate before them as usual.

The judges ate quietly; their faces were expressionless. Nifemi didn’t know what
to think. Each of them scribbled something on the paper before them. Chef Roti
told her to step aside, and called out to Obinna. He was already plating, he
appeared with his plates of cake looking very similar to Nifemi’s. Chef Roti had
said their cakes would be judged based on look and taste.

198
The judges ate Obinna’s cake, their faces, expressionless as before. They also
scribbled something on the same paper and told Obinna to stand beside Nifemi.

The judges passed their papers to Wendy. She looked through each paper and
scribbled down something on a card. They all got up and stepped out.

Wendy glared at the card beneath her glasses. “Wow! This was some competition!
But then again, it’s Master Chef!” She sighed. “Without much ado, I’m glad to
announce that we now have a winner.”

Nifemi clasped her hands behind her, while Obinna’s hands were seated in his
pockets. His face had one memo—call the name and get this done with!

“Based on Chef Roti’s analysis, the two cakes looked like the cakes he would
make, but only one cake tasted like his. Though the other judges recorded the
scores independently, somehow, we all agreed with Chef Roti.” Wendy smiled.
“On that note, the winner of this year’s Nigerian Master Chef, who will be the
proud winner of five million naira, lots of kitchen equipment, a three-month free
practical training on the arts of running a restaurant at Wendy’s—”

A three-month free practical training on the arts of running a restaurant at

Wendy’s! Nifemi didn’t know that was part of the prize. She had mixed feelings
on that one.
“—an opportunity to publish a cookery book, a two-month food tour to ten
African countries and lots more.” Wendy sighed. “That person is…”
Call the name already. Nifemi wanted to say. It was that time when she had to
hold her thighs together again. The second time she would be tempted to pee in
the Master Chef Kitchen in just one day!
“The person is Chef... Nifemi Kitan!”
“Oh my God!” Nifemi fell on her knees, crying and laughing all at the same time.
Most of the evicted contestants had rushed in at the mention of the winners’
name; they had surrounded Nifemi, hugging and pouring champagne all over
her. A song on ‘stand up for the champion’ was being played in the kitchen. It
was a great moment—another defining moment in Nifemi’s life, the beginning of
the reality of one of her wildest dreams. She hadn’t imagined it would become
real so soon, but she had never stopped conceiving it, and now it was real. She
couldn’t take credit for it. It was God from start to finish. She wasn’t a
competitive kind of person. But somehow, God had pushed her out of her comfort
zone and safe haven, He had brought out of her the strengths she never knew
she had—they were there all along. And how could she not remember the love of
her life—Darasimi, he’d been used by God to get her out of the shells she’d built

199
for herself. She wished he was there to share this moment with her. “Thank you,
Jesus!”

200
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NIFEMI COULDN’T wait to get into her sister’s apartment as soon as Mrs. Wendy
Richmond dropped her off right at the gate. She almost didn’t believe her ears
when she offered her a ride home as she was about launching her Uber App.
Moyo had advised she took an Uber ride when she won the Master Chef. She
thanked Wendy for the ride and was about to turn away when she remembered
courtesy demanded that she waited for Wendy to drive off before she went in.

Mrs. Richmond was the coolest woman ever. It was funny how God orchestrated
the whole thing. The same woman she admired would be giving her a three-
month coaching on how to run her own restaurant—for free! The woman was
classy, yet humble. She said Nifemi was a reflection of her in her twenties—
young, smart and daring. Hmm, daring! Nifemi never thought herself as daring.
She used to think she was the most timid person that ever walked the surface of
the earth—more timid than the eight spies that returned with the report of how
in their own eyes they looked like ants compared to the giants that inhabited the
Promised Land.1 Indeed we often limit ourselves by our own thinking. And
it is important for us to always see ourselves through the eyes of God—
strong and courageous!

She ran into the compound as soon as Wendy’s car was out of sight. A good thing
the gate wasn’t locked. She ran up the stairs and threw the door open. Moyo’s
head was on her husband’s laps, the two were on the sitting room floor, eating
fruits salad and catching up on a Christian marriage TV program before she
came in. they didn’t seem surprised by her style of entrance—that was how she
rolled whenever she was elated or otherwise, and the look on her face told them
she was elated.

“I won it! Can you believe that?!”

The couple didn’t seem surprised. They only reacted with a grin. Moyo sat up
and gave her a knowing nod. “We know.”

201
“You guys knew? How come?”

“Have you forgotten I told you to get an Uber ride when you win? The keyword in
that sentence was when, I never said if, and if you remember your Basic English
Language as much as you cook yummy meals, you would know that when is
used for certainty. So, my dear, I was certain you would win. Plus, we’ve been
praying for you. Moyo got up. “Come here, girl!”

Nifemi covered her face, blushing. “You guys are the best!” She hugged her sister
so tight.

Moyo swept Nifemi off her feet, and screamed. “Here comes our champion!”

Nifemi shed tears of joy on her sister’s shoulder and wiped her face as she went
into Paul’s arms.

“I can’t see the prizes!” Moyo said, searching around and pushing Nifemi out of
the way.

“They would be presented at the party tonight. Talking about tonight’s party,”
She scowled. “I need a date!”

The couple stared at her, and then looked at each other.

***

Uzo couldn’t hide her excitement even though she was at her office—one of those
Saturdays when there was more work than employees, and the employees had
to sacrifice their weekend to sit at the office with their attention-seeking
computers, instead of sitting at home with their families. They couldn’t complain
though—irrespective of how they looked at it, they were generously paid for their
services, or so they thought.

“My friend won the Nigerian Master Chef!” Nifemi heard Uzo yelled in excitement.
Nifemi could hear the congratulatory voices of Uzo’s colleagues at the
background. Someone screamed “wow!” Another person asked if she had an
account in their Bank. “Trust me, she does.” Uzo responded. “Girl, I’m so
glad…and I admire you even more.” Uzo continued. “I’ve always known you
would win. I can imagine the look on Bayo’s face when I tell him. This calls for
celebration.”

202
“Aww. Thanks so much, my friend.”

Uzo couldn’t stop giggling. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Master Chef has an end-of-the-year and prize-giving party scheduled for

tonight.”

“Oh, that’s great. We still have to celebrate though.”

“Sure. I’m up on it. Except, I would like to lay in bed throughout tomorrow, do
nothing but sleep and eat; my way of unwinding after ten weeks of sweats,
bloods, and tears in the Master Chef Kitchen…The day after that would be fine.”

“No problem dear. You really need to unwind. Have you told Dara?”

Nifemi lifted her hand against her mouth for a moment. She couldn’t believe she
was yet to send Dara a message to inform him of her victory. Not that she could
have been in Master Chef if he hadn’t signed her up for it. Wasn’t he then the
first person who deserved to know?

“Not yet. I’ve not been able to reach him for more than a week now. He has
neither called nor returned any of my messages.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe he’s in the middle of something. I’m sure he
would call soon.”

Trust Uzo to make excuses for everyone. Nifemi was still learning to be as sweet
as her friend. She didn’t think Dara had a good enough reason to not contact
her for more than a week now. What if he was tired of her, and couldn’t wait to
be rid of her? She didn’t believe Dara could do that, but then again, he was a
man, and had several options he could choose from—it wasn’t like he had
proposed marriage to her before travelling; his reason still seemed bizarre to her.
She bit her lip. “I will just leave him another message for the umpteenth time.”

“I’m sure he would call.” Uzo assured.

“I hope so.”

“Come on, Nifemi. Have some faith in the man. You guys have come a long way.
Anyways, have you picked out a dress for tonight?”

203
Nifemi stared at her open wardrobe. She was on the verge of delving through her
clothes to find a dress perfect enough for the party before she remembered she
hadn’t informed Uzo of her triumph. “Not yet.”

Uzo chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have a perfect dress for you, call it an early
Christmas gift!” Christmas was in one week. While Uzo was driving into her
company earlier that day, she had sighted a gorgeous red dress, hung at the
entrance of a boutique beside her office, and an image of Nifemi in that dress
had immediately come to mind. She was going to check it out immediately!

Nifemi chuckled and sank onto her bed. “Wow! How soon can it get here?”

“Hmm, in two hours. Is that soon enough?”

“That’s fine. The party is still four hours from now.”

“Perfect. It’s a red dress. I’m sure you would be pleased with it. Do you have nude
heels?”

Nifemi gazed contentedly at her shoe rack. “Sure, I do.”

“Perfect then. Get some rest. You would have your dress at your door step in
exactly two hours. I will be sure to track it every step of the way.”

Nifemi smiled. “Aren’t you the world best friend?”

Uzo chuckled. “Anything for the Master Chef. Congratulations girl.”

“Thanks so much, Uzo.” She rolled her eyes. She still had no date. She wasn’t
going to tell Uzo—like her sister, she would probably suggest she went with her
brother in-law. That would be the most boring night ever. Not that her brother
in-law was uninteresting, but what were they going to talk about? “Thanks
again.”

“My pleasure. Call me as soon as you receive the dress.”

“Sure, I will.”

They exchanged good byes and hung up.

Nifemi exhaled and lay back on the bed, her hands clasped under her head. Who
was going to be her date? She wished Dara was here. She still hadn’t informed
him of her victory. She sat up and sent him another message;

204
Babe, I won the Master Chef! God did it! I can’t thank you enough for pushing me
to be the best. I wish you were here to celebrate with me. I miss you so much.

She was going to tell him how there was a party tonight and she was dateless,
but she changed her mind and typed;

Call me as soon as you can. I love you always. Kisses and hugs.

Who was going to be her date? She opened her call log for received calls. She
hadn’t saved Felix’s number again, though she knew it by heart—not that she
could erase it from her memory. She took a second, third and fourth look at the
number, and decided to dial his number. No doubt, Dennis would be at the party;
she didn’t want him thinking she had no man in her life. But wait, since when
had it become important to impress anyone with her relationship status?
Whatever! She dialed Felix’s number. He answered the phone at the first ring.
She chuckled. “Wait, were you expecting me to call?”

The husky, yet sweet laughter of Felix filled her brain. “Good afternoon to you
too, Nifemi.” He said, avoiding her question. “I hope you are having an awesome
weekend.”

Nifemi chuckled. “More awesome than I could have ever imagined.”

“Hmm, I sense good news.”

“I am an embodiment of good news.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Ever heard of the Nigerian Master Chef?”

“Yes?”

“I was there this year.”

“No, you weren’t.”

Nifemi let out a short laugh. “Yes, I was.”

“It appears you’ve completely changed from the Nifemi I used to know. I never
knew you to be competitive. So, how did it go?”

“I won!”

He chuckled. “You are kidding, right?”

205
“I’m not. I’m serious. I’m the new Master Chef!”

He was quiet for a moment. “Nifemi, this is huge.”

She giggled. “I know.”

“Wow! Congratulations dear.”

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I kind of need your help.”

“Please ask. Anything for the Master Chef.”

“Okay, don’t take it the wrong way. There’s a party for tonight.”

“Party?” He sounded surprised. “Since when did Nifemi start attending night
parties?”

“Not that kind of party.” She quickly corrected. “It’s an end-of-the-year slash
prize-giving party organized by Master Chef.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yes…I don’t want to go alone.” She didn’t want to ask him to go with her; she
wanted him to suggest it.

“Okay, so do you want me to go with you?”

“Yes.” She tried not to get excited. She didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“I’m in.” He said excitedly.

“Really? Thank you.”

“It’s nothing dear. You can always count on me.”

Count on him? Since when?

“Don’t get it twisted, Felix. I do have a boyfriend. It just so happened that he isn’t
in the country at the moment.”

Felix laughed like he didn’t believe her last statement. “It’s fine. I understand. I
don’t mind being your date for one night…I can be nice like that.”

“Hmm. Thanks.”

“It’s my pleasure, Master Chef. What time would you want me to pick you up?”

206
“Seven will be fine, as long as you don’t show up at my sister’s door step. Just
call me when you arrive at the gate, and wait there for me.”

He chuckled “Okay, I will wait at the gate. See you at seven.”

“See you.” She took the phone away from her ear and dipped her finger into her
ear hole, scratching it briefly. She checked to see if Dara had sent her a message.
Nothing! She sighed and laid back on the bed, pushing her body up until her
head hit the pillow. When was the last time she attended a party?

***

All of Nifemi’s efforts to convince her sister that she could make it to the gate on
her own without tripping off fell on deaf ears. Dressed in a red, flowing long dress
made of lace material with gold embroilments. The dress had long see-through
sleeves that layered the whole of her hands onto her wrists, every other part of
the dress had lining—it was elegant, yet decent. Her sister said she looked like
Cinderella. She felt like one too. She wore her nude five-inch heels and clutched
a red purse to go with it. Her shiny-black hair was held up in a ponytail and
rolled into a doughnut-shape, the edges of her hair, smoothly brushed—one of
those days when she felt thankful to be hairy. Her sister’s make-up skills also
came in handy. Now, all she hoped for was a perfect night.

“I think you should go go back now.” Nifemi said with a creepy grin as they
approached the gate.

Moyo chuckled. “Why do I think you are hiding something, maybe someone? I
have to lock up the gate, remember?”

“Oh! That’s true. Promise me you would only lock up the gate and not peep.”

Moyo shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t make a promise I am not willing to keep.”

Nifemi let out a playful cry, her hand on the gate. “Why are you so rigid?”

“Come on, it’s not like I’m going to chop off your date’s head. Who is he anyways?”
Moyo shot her sister a wary glare. “Right—some friend whose name you’ve
decided to conceal.”

Nifemi opened the gate in defeat. “Suite yourself!”

207
Moyo stared at Nifemi’s shoes. “Watch your steps please. I’m not about to donate
my teeth to you.” She raised her eye brows when she sighted Felix. She sucked
in her lips, not to give voice to the words in her thoughts. How could Nifemi
choose Felix of all people as a date? Did she have any idea what she was getting
herself into?

Felix was dazed at the sight of Nifemi. He’d never thought of her as this beautiful!
He held her hand as he opened the door to the back seat of the cab ride he’d
hired. Somehow, he wished he’d come with a limousine, Nifemi looked too
gorgeous for a BMW.

Nifemi turned and winked at her sister.

Moyo had her arms folded across her chest, and danger written all over her face.
She shook her head. “Take lots of pictures.” She managed to say. “Alone.” She
added.

Felix helped lift the remnant of Nifemi’s dress as she settled in the car. He closed
the door and gave Moyo a brief stare. He said no word to her, but hurried over
to the other side of the back seat and sat beside Nifemi.

Moyo watched as the driver turned on the engine and drove off. She stared until
the car was no longer in sight. She had to give it to Felix, even though she hated
to. He looked breathtakingly handsome—dressed in a black shirt tucked in a
cider-brown, figure-hugging trouser, a pair of cute black loafers and a large gold
wristwatch—the guy undeniably knew how to warm a woman’s heart with his
dressing. Even Moyo’s heart was warmed for a split second. Nifemi couldn’t have
picked a better date—judging by appearance alone. But she smelt trouble. The
first three buttons of his shirt were loosed, and she could smell his aftershave
even from the gate. Her sister could use some intercession right now. Help her
Lord. She locked up the gate and went back into her apartment.

***

Hands folded over her laps, and eyes focused on the driver, Nifemi knew Felix
had been staring at her the moment the car left their gate. She spun and caught
his eyes. They were looking admirably at her. She liked how that made her feel.
She looked away. “You are going to wear off my make-up with your eyes.”

208
Felix smiled. He wanted to wear off her red lip-stick with his lips. “Forgive me for
admiring your beauty. You’ve literally taken my breath away.”

Nifemi couldn’t say the same thing, but it was a mutual feeling. He was literally
taking her breath away too. She couldn’t help it—not with his nearness, the scent
of his aftershave and his bare chest. Button up your shirt please! She wanted to
scream.

“I’m so glad to see you after—”

“Eight months.” Nifemi reminded him.

“Wow! I never knew it’d been so long.” He chuckled. “Were you counting?”

Nifemi looked at him with a scowl. “No, I wasn’t! I just happened to be good with
numbers.”

He laughed and took her hand.

Why was he doing that—holding her hand?

“I missed you.” He said, almost voiceless.

Nifemi’s heart jumped behind her rib cage. She twitched a little, and then,
cleared her throat softly. “Can I have my hand back?”

“No.” Felix answered playfully, clutching his fingers gently against hers.

Nifemi frowned. “I’m serious.”

Felix let go gently.

None of them said any more word to each other until they arrived at the party
venue. Though wordless, the atmosphere in the car was filled with unspoken
thoughts.

The driver couldn’t help but steal glances at the twosome from his rear-view
mirror.

***

The party went by swiftly. All the judges and some representatives from the
sponsors were in attendance, so were all the evicted contestants. Wendy was
absent, but Dennis wasn’t. he stole glances at Nifemi occasionally from across

209
his table in the middle of the room, though he was there with his date—probably
his girlfriend; a dark skinned skinny lady who seemed clearly indecent with the
kind of dress she wore—a black V-necked gown; the neck line of the dress was
too low, revealing more than necessary.

Another man who couldn’t take his eyes off Nifemi was Obinna. Though, the look
in his eyes wasn’t that of admiration, but shock and resentment. Nifemi
wondered what his problem was; he could barely sit five minutes without getting
off his seat and stepping out of the hall, he had his phone clutched to him like
his life depended on it. He shuddered when he was nudged by the lady who was
seated close to him—his name had been called a minute earlier as the first
runner-up, but he seemed oblivious to the whole jollity that went on in the hall,
his eyes were distant. He fidgeted as he stepped out to receive his prize of one
million naira and a few boxes of kitchen equipment. Nifemi wondered what was
wrong with him—she looked around his seat, it didn’t look like he came with a
date. He disappeared as soon as he received his prize.

The whole hall was on standing ovation when Nifemi’s name was called as the
winner of the year’s Master Chef. There were roars of shout and claps as she
stepped out. Felix got up and pulled out her chair, holding her hands as she
gently stepped out, and giving her morale support as she made her way to the
podium.

“Wow Nifemi!” Chef Roti exclaimed. “You look absolutely stunning tonight, I must
confess.”

There was another rumble of claps and screams.

Nifemi grinned from ear to ear, determined to ignore Dennis’ presence on the
podium.

Chef Roti gave a short speech about Nifemi’s performance at the Master Chef
kitchen, and how he’d watched her evolve and hone her cooking skills in the last
ten weeks. He concluded by shaking the hand of Felix who still stood close to
her like her daddy. “You’ve got yourself an asset, young man. Cherish this
woman.” He said, smiling at Nifemi.

Nifemi shook her head mentally, and wanted to tell him that was totally
unnecessary.

210
Felix gave her a brief hug as if to prove to Chef Roti that he’d taken his words to
heart.

Nifemi glanced at Dennis who looked straight-faced.

Chef Roti invited the 2015 Master Chef winner to come place the crown on
Nifemi’s head. There were lots of camera flashes on Nifemi’s face. Felix also took
pictures of her.

“You should take pictures with your woman.” Chef Roti said, volunteering to take
their pictures with Felix’s phone.

Felix quickly released the phone to Chef Roti and took his position beside
Nifemi’s high platform seat. He bent over and held her shoulders, even
whispering into her ears.

Nifemi managed to smile at his silly joke. The guy was pushing his luck, and
Chef Roti seemed determined to play matchmaker. Well, not like the man knew
Felix was her ex-boyfriend.

Two of the sponsors were called to present the prizes to Nifemi—a whooping
cheque of five million naira and loads of kitchen equipment. Chef Roti assured
her the equipment would be delivered to her house the following week. Chef
Lawal formally introduced her to Wendy restaurant—she would undergo a three
months training at Wendy’s to empower her with hands-on knowledge and skills
needed to run her own restaurant—she was expected to write her business plan
and cookery book within those three months. Chef Bridget assured her that
Master Chef was committed to ensuring she had a successful business, and
wouldn’t leave her side until they were certain she could go on without their
assistance.

Dennis shook her hand and spoke to her for the first time that evening; informing
her of how extremely busy she was going to get within the next few months and
how she needed to be void of distraction to ensure maximum concentration.

Nifemi knew Felix was the distraction Dennis referred to, and the look in Felix
eyes told her he got Dennis’ point.

Nifemi stayed away from Dennis for the remaining part of the evening. Felix
asked if she had any history with him.

211
“We were course mates at the University.” Nifemi told him and provided no more
info. It wasn’t his business anyways; it wasn’t like he was her boyfriend or fiancé!

Rose seemed happy; as the second runner-up, she won a prize of five hundred
thousand naira. Chef Roti presented to her an additional one hundred thousand
naira for her brilliant rice-plantain dessert.

Obinna didn’t show up for the remaining part of the evening. Nifemi wondered
where he went—it was either he was chasing something, or something was
chasing him!

212
 CHAPTER NINETEEN

NIFEMI WANTED to go straight home after the party ended at 9.30pm. But
somehow, Felix had her convinced to go with him to some place for more fun,
reminding her it wasn’t every day she went partying, and how it was important
to maximize such a rare night instead of being such a bore. She wasn’t a bore!
She was going to prove that to him.

Apparently, Nifemi wasn’t the only one who’d been convinced to spend more time
having fun before turning in for the night. Their cabby had been convinced too—
especially with the top-up amount of ten thousand naira that Felix had added to
the initial amount they’d agreed upon. The man was in for it. It wasn’t every day
he got a job that paid twenty thousand naira in five hours.

Nifemi wondered though. The fact that Felix would spend his twenty thousand
naira on transport for just one night all because of her was bewildering and
unexpected. This was the same man who couldn’t spend up to five thousand
naira on her throughout their eleven-month relationship.

Her feet were hurting, but she had to bear the pain. She wasn’t going to remove
her shoes until she got home. She didn’t want Felix thinking she wasn’t so
sophisticated after all. She had never had to fear what Dara thought about her;
she could always be herself around him and not lose his regards. But not with
Felix, she always had to prove herself to him. She looked through the window.
“Where are we going?”

“I already assured you I wasn’t taking you to my apartment. So, relax. We are
almost there. It’s just a place I go to unwind and get refreshed. I figured you
could use a place like that after all the rigors of the competition.”

Nifemi didn’t say anything. She hoped asking him to be her date wasn’t a
mistake.

“Oh, that’s the place.” He pointed.

213
“Where?” the driver asked

“Just turn right and drive into the first gate.” He gazed at Nifemi as they
approached the gate. Loud music filled the air.

“What?!” Nifemi grabbed his arm, her eyes, protruding. “A club?”

Felix smiled. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

“Felix, I don’t do club!”

“Exactly! You’ve never been to a club all your life. How would you know what it
looks like?”

She drove her fingers into his hand and leaned towards him. “Get me out of
here!”

He winced and looked into her eyes. “You are hurting me.” he said softly.

Nifemi pulled away and leaned back against the windscreen.

Felix leaned forward. “Trust me, I’m not going to hurt you.”

She laughed briefly in sarcasm. “Really? I trusted you once Felix, and you did
hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. All I want is a second chance.” He leaned closer towards
her, one hand over her head on the windscreen.

She swallowed. “A second chance for what?”

“A second chance to win back your trust…even as a friend.” He held her chin
with his second hand.

Her mind went blank for a moment, and then as if a light had just been shone
on her mind, she slapped his hand away, and then opened the car door after a
second thought.

As Felix held her hand and walked her in, she prayed silently that she wouldn’t
regret that night.

Felix grinned broadly as he danced into the club like he belonged there. Nifemi
looked around; her dress didn’t fit in, neither did she. Most of the ladies were
dressed in clingy outfits, lots of them were glaring at her—grinning and talking

214
under their breaths. They must be wondering what village she came from, and
why she was gate-crashing their party in a Cinderella outfit.

She held tightly to Felix’s arm and begged him to take her home already. Felix
pulled her closer and she lost her balance, almost tripping off. He grabbed her
waist and hugged her. It happened so fast, she didn’t have time to think, her
head and hands were resting against his chest. She put her arms around him,
her heart throbbing.

“Felix.” She whispered.

Felix seized the moment. He pulled back a little and stared deep into her eyes. “I
still love you, Nifemi.”

“Felix.” She seemed to have forgotten every other thing except his name.

Felix didn’t need another invitation. He held her neck and kissed her.

Nifemi wasn’t the type to exhibit PDA, but she obviously wasn’t thinking.
Oblivious to the loud music and stares, she kissed him back. He seemed hungry,
so was she. Felix didn’t stop until she slowed down and pulled back after about
five minutes. Her head seemed to be spinning, she felt dizzy. Felix held her and
walked her to a seat. He seated her gently and got her a cup of alcohol. She’d
taken few sips before she realized what she was doing—drinking alcohol!

“Felix, is this alcohol?”

Felix nodded.

She flung the glass away. It shattered all over the floor, causing the people
around them to stop and stare at her like she was crazy.

Indeed, she was crazy. If she wasn’t crazy, she wouldn’t have asked Felix to be
her date; she would have gone straight home after the Master Chef party; she
wouldn’t have ended up in a club with Felix; she wouldn’t have kissed Felix, and
she wouldn’t have taken alcohol! She was crazy! Very crazy!

She took off her shoes, got up, pulled up her dress and fled the club. Didn’t the
Bible say to flee every appearance of evil?1 Why did it take her so long to
remember that? Better late than never!

The driver jolted up as she tried to open the car. He pressed the unlock button.

215
“Madam, what happened?”

She sat in and closed the door. “Just take me out of here! Please!”

The driver nodded confusingly. “Okay, but where is your boyfriend?”

She stared angrily at the driver. “He is not my boyfriend!” She yelled.

The driver shook his head in disbelief. “Women and their hormones.”

“What?” She asked.

Felix got into the car.

She frowned at him. “I want to go home now!” She said within clenched teeth.

“Sure.” He said without looking at her. “Driver, take us back to where we picked
her.”

“Okay.” The driver responded and started the car.

Nifemi sat on the other side of the back seat, giving Felix as much distance as
possible, her face turned over to her side of the road. All she could think of was
how stupid she’d been that night. She brushed off tears from her cheeks.

“I thought you’ve changed.” Felix shot her a disgusting glare. “I mean, you
dressed sophisticated and all, but your attitude is still all gauche. You still cry
after a kiss. What are you? A ten-year old?”

She bit her lip, her eyes still on the road. “If your definition of sophisticated is
being morally loose and living according to the dictates of my flesh, then I’m not
sophisticated.”

He laughed. “It’s not like I forced a kiss on you. You asked for it. More like begged
for it. Remember the way you said my name. You seemed all hungry. Don’t tell
me you haven’t been kissed since we broke up.”

He could run his mouth all he wanted. It wasn’t his fault—she was the one who
had put herself in such compromising position. So much for saving her next kiss
till marriage! She had betrayed God, she had betrayed Dara, and she had
betrayed herself.

“Put on your Xender, so I can transfer the pictures.” He talked like they were still
good friends.

216
She didn’t look at him. “I don’t need the pictures anymore.”

He let out a short husky laugh. “Come-on now, don’t be such a baby.”

She swiveled and gawked angrily at him. “Delete them!” She yelled and returned
her gaze to the road.

***

Moyo ran ahead of her husband. She dashed into the front passenger seat, her
face pleading for her husband to hurry.

“Relax, will you?” Paul said, as he pushed the key into the ignition. He pulled his
seat belt and gave Moyo a face signals to use hers. Moyo obeyed, her hand
quivering.

“You seem too calm.” She said to her husband.

“And you seem too apprehensive. Moyo, Nifemi isn’t a baby.”

Moyo frowned. “It’s past midnight, and her phone has been perpetually switched
off. Isn’t that enough reason to be worried?”

Paul started the engine, and then realized the gate hadn’t been opened. “Please
get the gate.”

They heard a knock on the gate while Moyo was trying to unstrap her seat belt.
They looked at each other.

“That must be Nifemi!” Moyo exclaimed.

“Stay put.” Paul said, unstrapping his seat belt. “I’ll get it.”

There was another knock—harder this time. Paul leaned his ear closer to the
gate. “Who is it?”

“It’s Nifemi.”

Moyo hurried towards the gate. “Open the gate already!”

Paul opened the peephole and stared through. He opened the gate and Nifemi
dashed in—barefooted, her dress pulled up a little above her knees, shoes in her
hands and purse clutched under her armpit.

217
“What in the world happened to you?” Paul queried, observing her from hair to
toes—her face was a mess, so was her hair!

Moyo shoved Paul aside and looked outside the gate. “Where is Felix?”

“He left.”

Moyo shook her head. “He didn’t even have the decency to wait until you entered
the house before leaving?”

Nifemi gave a wry smile. “Decency? Such word is inexistent in his dictionary.”
She turned and headed for their apartment, with Moyo on her heels, while Paul
locked up the gate.

“Start talking.” Moyo said as soon as they stepped into the living room.

Nifemi glared at her, her lips quivered, but no word came forth.

Moyo shot her a questioning stare. “Do I need to slap the words out of your
mouth?

Slap? Her sister wouldn’t slap her. She’d never done that before, not even when
they were teenagers. She didn’t know what to say to her. Not that she asked her
opinion before asking Felix to be her date. What would she think of her if she’d
known she had kissed him again? She would probably think her loose and
lacking self-control. They were so much different—Moyo had always been the
perfect one, she had married as a virgin, while she hadn’t had enough morals to
keep her legs closed until marriage. And even though she’d vowed to not have
sex again until marriage, she’d been going around kissing every Dennis and
Felix. A hot slap on her face jolted her back to reality—her eyes blood-shot, she
held her cheek. “Moyo…did you just slap me?”

Even Moyo seemed momentarily dazed at her own act. “Well—I—” She stuttered.
Then, determined not to apologize or show her guilt, she placed one arm on her
hips and looked straight into Nifemi’s eyes. “I would slap you again if that’s what
it would take to bring back your sense of dignity and decency!”

Paul walked in and locked up the entrance door. He walked closer to the two
sisters and looked from Nifemi to Moyo. He raised his eye brows. “Did you slap
her?”

Moyo nodded.

218
Paul shook his head. “That was absolutely unnecessary.”

Moyo shrugged.

Nifemi turned and walked away.

Moyo was about to follow her, but Paul grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Let her be for now, please.”

“We are not done talking.” Moyo called out to Nifemi, “And have some decency to
apologize.”

***

Nifemi spent the whole of Sunday morning in bed, rolling, crying, praying and
thinking. What was her problem? Why did she always have to give in to her
emotions? If she could kiss a man while being in a relationship with another, that
meant she could do the same if she was married. She needed to do something
urgently—a lasting solution. She needed to own her emotions, and not let them
own her. She was a Spirit being after all. Though she was reprimanding herself,
a part of her couldn’t deny the fact that she liked being held and kissed by Felix—
they had an amazing Chemistry, her body always yielded in abandon whenever
he touched her, like she belonged with him. She let out a long breath. Whatever
she felt for Felix was wrong—the timing was wrong, so was the man. What
she needed was self-control, and that she had—the Spirit of God resided
in her; the same Spirit that gave Jesus the strength to say NO to the devil
when He was hungry and offered the idea to turn a stone to bread.2
Though the offer was convenient, but it came from the devil. Anything that
came from the devil was neither good nor perfect, whatever pleasure it
offered was momentary. Hence, Jesus never gave in; He kept rebuking the
devil, no matter how many times he tried. Though Jesus was starving for
food, He controlled Himself and refused to eat what was available to Him—
it was the devil’s choice and that made it wrong; it would eventually harm
Him, and ultimately, there would be no more space in His stomach to
receive the heavenly meal God was going to bring Him. God is faithful, and
will never withhold anything good from those who love Him.3 The devil
being the obstinate man that he is, took Jesus to a holy city, had Him
stand on the highest point of the temple and told Him to throw Himself

219
down if He was indeed the Son of God, reminding Him of God’s promise to
give His angels charge over Him, and that the angels would lift Him up in
their hands, so that He wouldn’t strike His foot against a stone—the same
stone that the devil had earlier cajoled Jesus to turn into bread and eat.
Jesus’ response to the devil this time was; do not put the Lord your God to
test. One would think Jesus’ resistance all the while would have worn out
the devil enough for him to give up. The truth is; indeed, he was beginning
to get really worn-out and running out of ideas, hence, he suggested the
lamest idea of all. Imagine the devil attempting to convince Jesus to give
it all up—His purpose on earth, the glory God had promised Him—the devil
promised to give Jesus all the kingdom of the world and their splendour
if He (Jesus) would bow down to worship him (the devil). Nifemi smiled. I
can imagine how mad Jesus got. Indeed, Jesus got really furious with the
devil and yelled; Away from Me, Satan! For it is written: ‘worship the Lord
your God and serve Him only.’ How dare the devil suggest that Jesus bowed
to him to receive the kingdom and splendour that was already His!

The devil eventually gave up and left Jesus. All by Himself, still hungry,
but not for long, for as soon as the devil left Jesus, God sent angels to
minister to his needs. Whatever God provided through the angels must
have been good and perfect for Jesus—certainly not some dry and
unappetizing bread made from stones. For He was full, satisfied, received
strength and began to walk in His purpose—the Bible recorded that from
that time on, He began to preach, ‘repent, for the Kingdom of heaven has
come near.4’

Nifemi thought of how Jesus’ experience in Matthew 4:1-11 was applicable to

her own life; she’d been hungry, but unlike Jesus, she didn’t wait, she’d taken
up stones and turned them to bread, she’d eaten the bread and thought she
enjoyed them because that was all she thought she could get, that was all she
thought she deserved—premarital sex, premarital kissing and the likes, from
men who had no idea what it meant to love—they all tasted sweet like stolen
wine, but the sweetness quickly got buried under piles of heartbreak, guilt,
condemnation, and feelings of emptiness that followed. How many times had the
devil made her think she was on the highest top of the temple in her relationship
with God, and how it was fine to throw herself down without the fear of falling—
assuring her that the angels of the Lord would lift her in their hands and keep

220
her from falling, even though she had chosen to test God; she’d put herself in
positions where self-control was unattainable, yet boasted about how the Spirit
of God in her would keep her from falling. Didn’t God say, ‘flee every appearance
of evil?5’ The keyword was ‘flee’, not stand and pray for self-control! The worst
of the devil’s ploy was to convince her to give it all up—all the good plans God
had for her—and to bow to the devil by becoming loose and sensual, living an
emotionally-led life.

She wasn’t going to let the devil into her head no more. Henceforth, she was
going to submit to God, by so doing, she would be instilled with enough strength
to resist the devil, and ultimately the devil will tuck his tail between his legs and
run away from her. She was going to be led by the Spirit of God, for she was a
child of God.6 She knew being led by the Spirit of God wasn’t something that
happened by chance, she had to want it, and she had to be intentional about it.
After all, no true success can be achieved without intentionality. She couldn’t
afford to leave any area of her life to chance; especially not her sanctity, and not
her standards either. She could do it, she could present her body to God—a
pleasing sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God—wasn’t that the most reasonable
act of serving and worshipping God?7 Life is more than some emotional needs—
she had a purpose to fulfil. Her body is not her own, she belonged to God, so she
wasn’t going to do what she felt was right no more, but live by what God said
was right. That’s it!

The sound of footsteps jolted Nifemi back from her ‘moments with the Holy
Spirit.’ Moyo and her husband were back from church. She had no idea that time
had passed so fast. She’d been having her own church service in her head. The
sounds of footsteps drew nearer, and her bedroom door flung open.

“Please don’t tell me you are still sleeping? Having some hangover?” Moyo
sounded sarcastic.

Nifemi squinted. “Moyo, be nice.”

“Where has my being nice got you? You make the same stupid mistake over and
again! You made me slap you for the first time ever.”

That was true, and she deserved that slap. Moyo sounded apologetic though,
and Nifemi knew her sister regretted hitting her. “I needed the slap.”

221
Moyo’s shoulders dropped. Her handbag still clutched in her palm, she sighed
and ambled towards the bed. She sat on the bed and dropped her bag beside her
legs. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to hit you.”

Nifemi sat up and held her sister’s contrite eyes. “I know. I’m sorry too. I’ve made
lots of dumb and unhealthy choices—I’m not pleased with them, and I’ve decided
to run from them…to run from everything that appears evil.

“Hmm. Sounds like someone had her own church on the bed.”

Nifemi smiled. “I did. The Holy Spirit had been talking to me. I need to live a more
intentional life henceforth.

Moyo squeezed her sister’s hands and nodded in the affirmative. Her sister could
really use some intentionality in her life. She sent up some mental kisses to the
sweet Holy Spirit.

***

Nifemi finally got off the bed at about five in the evening. She had slept off after
the little discussion with her sister. Somehow, she’d not been able to get herself
to the bathroom the whole day, neither had she gotten any food down her
throat—literally, she’d been in bed all day. She pushed herself off the bed and
massaged her temples, wincing in pain before making it out of her bedroom to
the kitchen.

Moyo swivel for a brief. “Hey, sleepy-head.”

“Hey.”

Nifemi picked up a bowl and spoon, she poured herself some cereals and milk,
and dug into it like one who’d just been rescued from impoverishment on an
island

“Are you okay?” Moyo inquired as Nifemi held her belly.

“Just hungry.” Nifemi said, gobbling spoons of cereals. She frowned as Moyo ran
some water over the small cooking broom. “What’s for dinner?”

“Semolina and ewedu.”

Nifemi shook ahead. “Aren’t you the traditional woman?”

222
Moyo chuckled as she set aside her pot of ewedu soup. “I figured we could use
some traditional meals for a change.”

“Well, nice idea. I don’t know about having Semolina for dinner though.”

Moyo spun and folded her arms across her chest. “Why not? Don’t tell me you
don’t want to get fat.”

Nifemi gave a nod and walked over to the sink. “Why should I?”

Moyo observed her sister’s thin frame. “Girl, you need some fat on your
backside!”

They let out a short laugh which got interrupted by Paul’s sudden presence.

“Sweetheart, you have a call. It’s an international number.”

“Who could it be?” Thanks Babe. Moyo collected the phone from her husband,
she stared at the screen for a moment and then swiped towards the answer
button. “Hello…” Her face brightened. “Dara!”

“Dara?!” Nifemi literally ran over to her sister’s side and reached out for the
phone before it was offered.

Moyo chuckled as she took a step backward. “Easy, girl.”

“Dara, what happened? How are you? Is everything okay?”

Dara chuckled. “Take a deep breath, my Sweet.

Nifemi did as she was told. “Seriously Dara, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
What happened? Did you get all my messages?”

Moyo smiled and returned to her cooking as Nifemi left the kitchen.

“I’m deeply sorry, my love. I got all your messages…saw your missed calls too.”
Dara sighed.

Nifemi opened the door to her room. “Were you sick?” She laid on the bed.

“No, my love…I had issues with my travel papers. My school registration is still
on hold. The last three weeks have been pretty rough for me.”

“Dara, how come you didn’t tell me?”

223
“I didn’t want you to be worried. I wanted you to focus on the contest. I’m glad
you won, my love. I’m super impressed!”

“Thank God! I couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks for cheering me.”

“Praise God!” Dara said happily. “I missed you so much.”

Nifemi chuckled. “You have no idea. I almost went crazy thinking of a million
possible reasons why you didn’t call or text me. So, what’s up with your travel
papers now?”

“Not completely resolved. But I’m positive it will go well.”

“Everything will be fine, my love.”

“I believe so…I have to be home before the end of the week though.”

Nifemi frowned. “Home, as in…”

Dara sighed. “Home, as in Nigeria.”

“Why? Are you forfeiting your admission? Please don’t tell me you’re being
deported.”

“None of the two. My uncle was shot.”

“What? How? When? Why?”

“Nifemi, I don’t know much of the details…his secretary died on the spot.”

“Oh my God! What about your uncle? Please tell me he’s alive.”

“Hmm… He’s in coma as we speak.”

“Oh my God…oh my God. Dara, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what to think, Nifemi. I am so scared. The thought of losing my

uncle to the cold arms of death gives me panic. I can’t lose him. Nifemi, we can’t
lose him. I don’t understand why anyone would hurt him. And God let it happen.
Nifemi, please pray to God. Pray for mercy…pray that He gives my uncle life
again.” Dara was crying.

Panic surged through Nifemi; if Dara had ever cried, not before her. She could
feel his fear. “Baby, your uncle will be fine.”

“You think so?”

224
“I believe so. With God, nothing shall be impossible.8 I will go check on him first
thing tomorrow morning.”

“You will do that for me?” He asked amidst sobs.

“Yes. I will be praying for him too. Don’t stop praying, Dara. Don’t stop believing.
Your uncle will not die. He will live.”

“I will keep you informed on my travel plan. What happened to your phone,
though? I had to call your sister’s line to reach you.

She reached out for her phone on the bedside drawer. “Oh my! I forgot to put it
on the whole day.”

“How come? That’s really unlike you. Are you okay?”

Nifemi smiled. Trust Dara to push aside his worries for hers. “I’m fine babe.
Promise me you’ll be fine too.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

She shrugged and didn’t utter a word.

“I don’t want you worrying, babe. Just pray. Please?”

Nifemi sighed. “Okay.”

“Thanks…I love you.”

“I love you, Dara.”

“See you soon.”

The thought of seeing Dara soon certainly excited her, but the reason for his visit
saddened her. More so, she dreaded seeing Dara’s Aunty. Dara never spoke
much of her, except that she was a good person and he was grateful she allowed
him to share her home. Judging by Nifemi’s two encounters with the woman, she
doubted the woman was as great as Dara sounded; her reception towards Nifemi
was cold, so was the tone with which she spoke to Dara—it didn’t seem like she
liked Dara.

225
 ***

Dara didn’t know which hospital his uncle was receiving treatment. So, Nifemi
had to go over to his uncle’s house. Just as she got down from the taxi, a car
drove out of the compound. Nifemi took a closer look at the person in the car. It
was Dara’s Aunty—MOMMY KIKI as she was usually called. Nifemi waved at her,
but the woman didn’t’ stop, Nifemi had to literally run after her car, waving and
screaming “Aunty” as the car hit the road.

Mommy Kiki glanced at her rear-view mirror—of course she recognized Nifemi.
She was sure Dara had sent her over. She didn’t have time for small talks—
certainly not regarding her husband’s health condition. She hissed and brought
the car to a stop. She wound down the windscreen, and glared at her.

“Good day ma’am.” Nifemi managed to say whilst catching her breath. She made
a mental note to commence a daily body exercise routine ASAP. She only ran a
few feet and she was wheezing. That wasn’t so good, considering she had a slim
frame—she was supposed to be fit!

“Hello Nifemi.”

Oh, she recognized her and even remembered her name—that had to be a good
sign. “How are you doing ma’am?”

Mommy Kiki nodded. Her facial expression told Nifemi to cut to the chase and
get lost.

“Dara called me. He—he—” Okay, why was she mumbling. “He said Uncle was
shot. I came to make sure he’s fine.” What was she? A doctor? The woman’s glare
was making her nervous.

“He’s at the hospital, and in coma.”

“Oh, I’m sorry ma. What are the doctors saying? I hope he’s responding to
treatment?”

Mommy Kiki took a deep breath. “He will be fine. Now, if you would please excuse
me, I need to get to the hospital right away.”

“Oh, may I come with you?”

“No!” Her response was so sharp, Nifemi looked shock. Mommy Kiki took a deep
breath again. “Sorry about that. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

226
Nifemi gave her a knowing and genuine nod. “I understand ma’am. Please give
my love to him.”

Mommy Kiki nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

Nifemi took few steps backward and watched as the woman wound up and drove
off. She didn’t even offer to give her a ride to the bus-stop. Nifemi looked around,
she would have to use her legs out of the estate—maybe it was time she got that
body exercise started. She smiled to herself and started the long walk out of the
estate.

227
 CHAPTER TWENTY

THE KITCHEN equipment that Master Chef had presented to Nifemi didn’t arrive
at her sister’s apartment until Tuesday afternoon. The delivery man didn’t keep
to his promise of arriving at 9am—he showed up at 1pm—encroaching into her
plans to spend the whole of Tuesday at Uzo’s.

Uzo was ill—morning sickness—Nifemi assumed. She wondered how pregnancy

would look on her friend and smiled to herself.

Dennis had sent her a mail and then followed up with a call—something about
the schedules for her three months coaching at Wendy’s—and she was going to
be with him most of the time. Nifemi frowned—she didn’t like that—and then,
Dennis seemed excited; she would have to go with all her guards in place. She
frowned as the driver pulled over at the gate to Uzo’s estate.

“Madam, wetin happen?” The cab driver inquired, wondering if he had pulled
over at the wrong address.

“Nothing.” Nifemi quickly said with a smile and paid the man.

She braced herself up for the not-so-long walk to Uzo’s house. Walking wasn’t
one of those things she felt like doing that day—she didn’t know why. Somehow,
she’d been having mood swings since morning.

Obehi was all over Nifemi, grinning from ear to ear as soon as she opened the
door—she held Nifemi in a rather too tight embrace and flipped her from side to
side. “It’s so good to finally meet you!”

Nifemi chuckled and hugged her back. “I’m guessing you are Obehi.”

Obehi pulled back. “I guess I am.”

Nifemi gave her a questioning look coated with a smile. “Okay?”

228
Obehi let out a short laugh. “I am. And you look even more beautiful in person,
Sister Nifemi,” she took some strands of Nifemi’s hair in her hands, “look at your
hair,” she scanned Nifemi all over, “your shape—you should be a model.”

Uzo showed up behind Obehi and shrugged off her friend’s questioning
expression and plea for help.

Obehi gave Nifemi one more hug before holding her by the hand and walking her
into the house, with Uzo walking behind them and chuckling at Obehi’s rather
too-warm welcome.

“Can I have my friend back?” Uzo asked Obehi as they entered the living room.

Obehi still held Nifemi’s arm as she gently puts her to sit. “Forgive me Sister Uzo,
your friend is such an angel!

Nifemi grinned. “Seriously? Are you always this upbeat?”

Obehi giggled and sat beside Nifemi—like a fan who’d just been visited by a
celebrity. She had joined Uzo to keep up with the Master Chef Contest show on
TV, and had admired Nifemi all through the competition; always telling Uzo how
beautiful and smart her friend was. That she’d been looking forward to meeting
Nifemi would be an understatement—she’d literally been dreaming about their
meeting. She had plans of her own—plans of working at Nifemi’s proposed
restaurant on part-time until she got admitted to the university, and whenever
she was home on holidays—though she was yet to let Uzo in on her plans.

Uzo fell into a rocking sofa. “Just so you know, Obehi isn’t always this upbeat”
She made facial gesture toward Obehi. “Don’t get used to this.”

The threesome laughed and chitchatted like three ebullient friends.

Nifemi interjected their small dialogs. “So?” She shot her friend a questioning
stare knotted with a grin

“So?” Uzo questioned back, her eyes demanding clarity.

Nifemi made gestures with her eyes—but Uzo’s face remained seemingly clueless.

Clearly worn-out by her friend’s obliviousness, Nifemi let out the sacred
question. “Are you pregnant?”

229
Uzo couldn’t stop laughing. “ I’m not pregnant…and I’ve lost count of the number
of people who had asked me that same question in two days.”

Nifemi smiled. “I guess it’s just that cliché—everyone ought to get pregnant as
soon as they get married.”

“Right, it’s just a cliché.” Uzo rolled her eyes. “It’s so annoying when people keep
asking that question. I mean I’ve been married for barely four months, and some
people think it their civil duty to refer me to a gynaecologist.”

Nifemi chuckled. “No, they didn’t.”

“Yes, they did—and annoyingly so.”

“So sorry dear.”

Uzo hugged herself. “More annoying is the fact that I eventually went ahead to
see a gynaecologist.”

Nifemi nodded understandably. “And how did it go?”

Uzo shrugged. “It went well. I’m absolutely fine—and fertile too.”

Nifemi sighed. “Thank God.”

“You know what? I’m kind of wishing I don’t get pregnant until Obehi’s baby is
born.”

Obehi stared at her adopted sister under bulged eyes. “Why?!”

“Well, I guess…because I think it would be too much work for Bayo—I mean
dealing with two pregnant women.”

Obehi’s face dropped, and she bit her finger.

“Come-on Obehi, I don’t want you feeling guilty about that. The untold truth is
that—I’m also kind of scared.”

Obehi looked up. “Scared? Of what?”

Nifemi looked confused. “Why are you scared?”

“I don’t know—carrying a child, being a mother. I just feel like I’m not ready.”

Obehi smiled. “That’s so not true. You’ve literally mothered me these past two
months—and I mean that in a good way.”

230
“You’re just saying that.”

Obehi shook her head, her face seemingly grave. “No!”

“No.” Nifemi added. “She meant it. And it’s true. You’re a natural when it comes
to being a mother. You have a mother’s heart towards everyone, my dear
Uzo…and I’m certainly sure raising your own kids won’t be an issue.”

Uzo let out a long breath. “Ladies…I don’t know.”

Nifemi went over to Uzo’s side and squatted before her, she held her hand. “We
know. So, there’s absolutely nothing to be scared about. I mean, you’ve literally
mothered everyone around you.”

“Really?”

Nifemi nodded. “Yes dear. So much, it annoyed me sometimes that I wanted to

scream; you are not my mother!”

The three ladies laughed and talked more about other things such as marriage,
trusting God, having a girl’s day out and food. Nifemi and Obehi got so engrossed
in the food talks, Uzo had little to say—clearly not the foodie—she slept off in her
recliner as Nifemi shared several chicken recipes with Obehi.

Obehi excused herself and went in to get a quilt. She covered Uzo up.

Nifemi watched with great admiration. Uzo was such an angel—but it appeared
she didn’t even know that. She felt a bit disappointed about Uzo not being
pregnant—apparently, she only had malaria.

Obehi was fun to be around. Nifemi felt like she’d known the teenager for a long
time—well, Obehi sort of made that easy, as she literally walked Nifemi through
her seventeen years of existence in two hours. She was young, daring and had
great plans. She finally told Nifemi of her desire to work at her proposed
restaurant.

Nifemi liked the idea, and immediately offered her a position of personal assistant
at her proposed restaurant.

Nifemi and Obehi smiled at Uzo who’d been sleeping for hours like a baby, totally
deafened to their conversations. The two went to the kitchen and got dinner
started.

231
Nifemi had dinner with the two ladies and left at about 7pm. She’d really wanted
to see Bayo, but he was caught up in traffic and might not make it home for the
next one hour.

***

Dara arrived Nigeria at 5pm on Thursday. He went straight to his uncle’s house.
The aura in the compound, plus strange cars parked in gave him a clue of the
unimaginable, yet inevitable. The facial expression of the gateman didn’t help
matters.

“Is all well?” Dara asked.

The middle-aged man only nodded and patted Dara’s shoulder.

Scared to go in, Dara stood motionless. He batted his eye-lashes and held too
tightly the small luggage strapped around his shoulder.

“Go ahead.” The gateman gestured. “Your family needs you.”

Dara swiped tears from his cheeks. He stared at his uncle’s usual relaxation spot
and lounger—somewhere close to the garage, he pictured him drinking his herbal
tea and giggling as they had boys’ talk. His heart was torn apart. He wanted to
scream, he wanted to run back, he wanted to lose his memory. He couldn’t
believe the reality—that his uncle—his father was gone. “Nooooooo!” He yelled.

The gateman ran to his side. “Darasimi, please. You can’t do this now. Please,
be a man. You need to be strong enough to comfort your aunty and the kids.

Who ever said men weren’t allowed to grieve. “Noooo!” Dara yelled again, and fell
on his knees. “No!” He wept intensely and irrepressibly.

The gateman cupped Dara’s face and held it firmly. “Please Dara, you need to be
a man.”

Dara slapped the man’s hands off his face. If grieving meant he was less of a
man, so be it—he had a lot to be bothered about at the moment—and certainly,
being a man wasn’t one of it. He fell on his face and continued to weep for
minutes.

232
The gateman just stood and watched him. The man felt some hot tears beneath
his own eyes and quickly brushed them off. Mr. Demilade was the best employer
he ever had—humble, generous and full of life. Was it true what they say—that
good people don’t live long? But he remembered his pastor had said those who
obey the Lord would be satisfied with long life.1 The man felt more tears on his
cheek, he brushed them off again, reminding himself to be a man. He sniffed and
walked back to his cottage.

Dara finally summoned a bit courage. His legs were heavy, so was the tiny effect
he brought from the US. He almost had to lift his legs with his hands as he
climbed the stairs to the portico. He held the door’s handle and hesitated for two
minutes.

“Uncle Dara!” Fourteen-year old SOPE, uncle Demilade’s only biological son
exclaimed as soon as the front door opened.

His face still wet with tears, Dara scanned the room—his uncle’s friends, some
of the employees at Demi’s App, a few family members—everyone looked sad, yet
comforting one another. Dara closed the door and slouched over it.

Sope got up and went into Dara’s arms—he was the same height with Dara.
“Daddy is dead! What are we going to do?”

Dara patted his cousin on the back. He tried to open his mouth, but there seemed
to be some glue laced in between his lips. He wondered if the fluid from his eyes
had become an epoxy resin. He sighed and kept patting his nephew. “Where is
mom?”

Before Sope could answer the question, Mommy Kiki showed up from the hallway
with her two daughters—KIKI (Seventeen) and TITO (ten). Mommy Kiki’s eyes
were swollen and distant. She staggered, and her younger sister, FIYIN held onto
her shoulders.

Mommy Kiki pulled away from her sister, and headed towards Dara. She felt
light-headed and then ended on the ground.

Everyone got up to help. The kids, and Fiyin ran to her side, so was Dara. They
pulled her up. Still sitting on the floor, Mommy Kiki pounced toward Dara, and
left a slap on his face.

Everyone was shocked. Dara rubbed his hurting cheek, his eyes confused.

233
Mommy Kiki was pulled off the floor and walked—almost lifted over to the couch.
Fiyin pushed her onto the seat.

Everyone had the same question on their minds. Only Sope was bold enough to
ask. “Mom, what was that for?” He asked, holding onto Dara’s arm.

Mommy Kiki burst into another round of weeping. “I hate you, Dara.”

That wasn’t surprising to Dara. Only she’d finally put her actions into words.
Dara remembered the look on Mommy Kiki’s face when he first came into their
home—he was fifteen, his grandpa had just passed—he had to leave the village;
his mom couldn’t take him in, his step-dad didn’t want him in their home. Uncle
Demi drove down to the village and took Dara to Lagos—he had loved him, cared
for him, counselled him like his own. Dara couldn’t imagine a better father. Uncle
Demi said he’d always wanted to take Dara into his home, but he didn’t say why
he’d waited until grandpa passed. However, Dara knew the unspoken reason—
mommy Kiki wasn’t in support of that idea. Dara remembered the incessant
argument the couple had throughout the first week he arrived at their home—
Dara knew he was the cause. And for the past fourteen years, he could count
the number of times Mommy Kiki smiled at him—her unusual smile always came
like a huge and rare blessing to him, and he treasured the smiles, he treasured
Mommy Kiki, he treasured the whole family. They were his family. His cousins
were like his direct siblings, he adored them, and they loved and respected him.
Tears flowed down his cheeks.

“Mom?” Sope called out, still waiting for answers—the reason for the slap?

“Don’t yell at me, young man.”

“What was the slap for?”

Everyone stared from Sope to Mommy Kiki, and then to Dara.

“Mom, I’ve watched you treat brother Dara with way too much contempt, I’m not
going to keep mute no more.”

“What are you now, Sope? Oh, I forgot—the new man of the house.”

“Mommy, is there something you aren’t telling us.” Kiki asked, amidst tears.

The door opened, and everyone looked up. Nifemi stood still as she looked from
one face to another—including Dara who still had his hand on his hurting cheek.

234
Nifemi stood by the door, unable to either move her legs nor her lips. Even Dara
remained static, tears on his face.

Nifemi could tell from the atmosphere and faces in the living room that Dara’s
uncle had passed, but she sensed there was more. Suddenly, Mommy Kiki got
up and paced towards her. Nifemi was tempted to flee, but why? She didn’t do
anything wrong?

Dara appeared beside his Aunty-in-law and grabbed her arm before it landed on
Nifemi’s face.

“Is mommy going crazy?” Tito asked, looking scared and confused.

Dara threw down Mommy Kiki’s arm and shove Nifemi behind him. “You have
no right to lay your hand on her. Never!”

“Wow. Look who’s gotten lots of guts.”

It was the first time Dara was standing up to her, he’d taken patiently every of
her ill-treatment—which included deprivation of food sometimes. He’d never
talked back to her, nor talked bad about her. He could take all of the disrespect,
but he would never let her disrespect his woman—not on his watch.

Sope attempted to pull his mom away, but she broke free. Everyone was on their
feet, trying to calm the grieving widow—some of them stared at her weirdly—was
she really going crazy?

Mommy Kiki refused to be calmed. She resumed her crying, wailing and cursing
the people who had caused her husband’s death.

“Mommy Kiki, is there something you know?” Fiyin inquired.

She gritted her teeth, and looked from Dara to Nifemi. “They killed him!”

“What?” Everyone asked at once.

“What’s she talking about?” Nifemi added, shocked and confused.

“Mom, are you going crazy?” Kiki asked, holding onto her mom’s arm.

Mommy Kiki stared angrily at her daughter. “I’m not crazy, I know what I’m
saying.”

“What are you even saying, mom? These two can’t hurt a fly. Why would you lay
such an alarming allegation on them?”

235
Mommy Kiki held her head and paced back to the couch—the guests got out of
her way. She threw herself on the couch, slouched back and clasped her hands
over her head, her eyes gave out more fluids, and so did her nose. “I may not
have the details now…but I know what I’m saying. My husband would have been
alive if those two weren’t in our lives. Leave now!” She yelled, and gestured with
her hand. “I don’t want to ever see your faces again!”

Sope meandered through the confused guests and got to his mother. “Mother,
Uncle Dara lives here, remember? You can’t just send him away—he’s literally
your son.”

Mommy Kiki raised her head, her eyes bulging. “He is not my son! Never has!
And never will!”

“Mommy, this isn’t fair. Uncle Dara is also grieving…we need him, and he needs
us too.” Kiki knelt before her mother, “We are one family. Please mom.”

“Mommy Kiki, please calm down.” Dara’s timid and quiet aunty who was in
attendance spoke up for the first time.

“Get out!” Mommy Kiki yelled again and sprung up, pushing down her first
daughter.

Dara grabbed his suitcase and Nifemi and hurried out of the house. He was as
confused as Nifemi. He had travelled all the way to help nurture his uncle back to
health, but it was late—his uncle had passed—it was the worst thing that had
ever happened to him; his heart had been ripped—and now, he was accused of
being the cause of his death. That was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

Nifemi held his arm as they walked towards the bus-stop. She took his suitcase
and guided him into the cab.

Dara had no idea where they were going, he didn’t catch the conversation
between the driver and Nifemi—he’d completely gone off.

***

Dara only said a few countable words for the remaining part of the day. He
couldn’t eat either—it took a lot of suppliant from Nifemi to get him to eat a few
potato chips for dinner.

236
Nifemi was thankful the kids where still at their grandparents. She got their room
ready for Dara. Her sister and brother in-law were such an amazing couple—
they had suggested that Dara stayed over at their place until things got cool off
at home.

Dara looked like he carried the whole world on his shoulders—his eyes were
distant.

Nifemi had to be strong for the both of them, but a million thoughts raced in her
cranium. She knocked—she’d never had to knock at the kids’ door before; how
funny—there was a man in there now; her man. “Can I come in?”

“Yes please.”

Dara seemed a little refreshed. He’d showered and changed into his club’s jersey
and short.

The corner of Nifemi’s mouth sloped a little—smiling didn’t seem natural,

considering all that was going on—even the kid’s room seemed a little tensed.

“So, I heard Chelsea won last season.”

Dara smiled. “They sure did.”

“Hmm.” Nifemi nodded. “How are you?”

Dara sighed. “You want to hear the truth.”

Nifemi nodded, and walked over to the bed.

He was laying on his back. He shifted a little to make space for her.

She sat on the bed and held his eyes—they were still distant.

“Sincerely, I don’t know. I guess aggrieved and muddled would be the right
words—though not the perfect metaphors. Can you help me with words?”

“Babe, my knowledge of vocabularies is way more awful compared to yours. I

wish I could help.”

He smiled. “You’ve been very helpful, my love.” He held her hand. “Thank you.”
He whispered.

Nifemi sighed. “Promise me you’ll be strong.”

237
Dara caressed her hand. “I’ll be strong…I’m sorry I broke down before you.
Everything just happened all at once—and confusingly so. I—”

She shut his lips gently with her fingers. “No more words. Just rest”

Dara swallowed. The look in his eyes made her heart skip. She quickly removed
her hand and got up.

Dara caught her hand. “Don’t leave me, please.”

Nifemi looked him over. His eyes were imploring. If she was serious about
keeping her sanity—and purity—she’d better flee immediately. Dara seemed
vulnerable, and she didn’t have a good reputation with managing her emotions.

“Dara, I’m not leaving you…But right now, it would be better if I left. I love you,
and if you keep looking at me like that, we’re both going to do something we
would regret.”

Dara looked away and let out a long breath. “I’m sorry.” He avoided her eyes.

They both looked up at the sound of a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Nifemi said hastily before the knock was over—she didn’t want her
sister getting the wrong impression.

Moyo walked in. “Hi Dara.”

“Hi sis” Dara responded with a smile.

“How’re you holding up?”

“Not bad, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry dear. It’s just a phase—this too shall pass.”

Dara nodded. “Yea. Thanks so much, sis. And I’m sorry to be encroaching into
your privacy like this.”

Moyo waved off his apology. “That’s nonsense. You’re family, Dara.”

Dara smiled. “Thanks again, sis.”

“Don’t mention it dear. It’s late though, we should allow you get some rest—it’s
been a long day.” She made facial signals to her sister.

Nifemi took few steps toward her sister. “Good night, Babe.”

238
Dara smiled at her. “Good night, my love.”

Nifemi nodded and followed her sister to the door, she looked back, and Dara
waved at her with a grin. She smiled and went out of the room.

“Okay?” Moyo queried.

Nifemi gave her sister a quizzical look. “Okay what?”

“Dara is going to be here for a few days. Girl, I need you to be careful—extremely
careful. You know how emotions are.”

Nifemi nodded. “I understand. I was going to leave before you walked in.”

“I didn’t mean to sneak in on you two.”

“You didn’t sneak in; you were only looking out for us. And I do appreciate it.”

Moyo smiled. “Alright, dear sister. Nai-night.”

***

Uncle Demilade’s funeral held on Saturday. Dara had gone over to his timid
Aunty’s place—some other relatives were in town for the burial and were staying
at her place. Dara’s mom was also there. Mommy Kiki must have fed them all
with her off beam accusations, and they seemed to have eaten it all—hook, line,
sinker, fisherman and his boots. Everyone was awfully cold towards him—his
mom inclusive—even though he’d not seen most of them in years. What did he
expect? He’d always been the black sheep of the family—the unwanted child.
Aside Uncle Demi and his kids, none of his relatives had ever loved nor accepted
him—and they didn’t hide that fact. As a child, he used to be the family’s errand
boy whenever they were at the village for Christmas. Only uncle Demi and
grandpa stood up for him.

How often had he cried and prayed for his family’s love and acceptance? He
remembered how he used to run off to Nifemi’s house and cried on her shoulders
whenever he couldn’t handle the rejection and torture at his home. As a child,
he’d overheard his mother telling her friend how she hated to be labelled ‘that
young unmarried lady with a child’ and how the child’s presence in her life was
affecting her dating life.

239
Dara had prayed for grace to not hold his parents’ sins against them. It wasn’t
easy, he’d struggled for years to let go of the resentment in his heart towards
them, even after he got born again. It took years of communing with the Holy
Spirit, and having a growing knowledge of God’s unconditional love towards him
despite his faults to eventually let go of the hurts and learn to love his parents
and relations, even though they were undeserving of it—that was grace—and
God had set the pace for that; he was undeserving of God’s love, yet was loved
deeply and eternally by Him.

Now, his family’s hatred toward him had become full-fledged—they believed he’d
somehow caused the death of the family’s bread winner. He just couldn’t
comprehend such allegations.

***

Dara felt so alone at the funeral. He couldn’t even summon enough courage to
go close to his family. Nifemi, Paul and Moyo were by his sides. Sometimes, true
family aren’t just those who are blood-related. Nifemi and her sister had always
been there for him. Even as a child, he found solace in them, and now that he
was a man, aside the Holy Spirit, they were still his solace—they offered him
unconditional love and acceptance; the doors of their house were always open to
him, so were their hearts, and their pots too. He gave Nifemi’s hand a gentle
squeeze, his eyes travelled through his family. Kiki, Sope and Tito were all
around their mother. They didn’t even say hi to him—he understood why; they
had to comfort their mom—he knew they didn’t believe those awful allegations
against him; at least he liked to believe they didn’t. They seemed to be the only
surviving members of his family who loved and believed in him.

Uncle Demilade was finally laid to rest. Nobody called Dara to come pour dust
over his uncle’s coffin. Nobody seemed to remember he was part of the family.
He felt invisible—he was back to status-quo—an unseen member of the
Ayomide’s family.

Dara stood still as everyone started to leave the cemetery in groups. Some patted
his shoulders as they walked past him. “Be strong.” That was all his mother said
to him and then walked past like he was a mere acquaintance—maybe that was
all he still was to her—a mere acquaintance; his mother rarely called or checked
up on him. He shook his head. He wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity, neither

240
was he going to beg to be loved. If his family wouldn’t give him their love, then
so be it. He wasn’t going to let them take over his emotions. He had God’s love.
He took a quick glance at Nifemi and her family—he had the love of a godly,
beautiful and smart woman, he had a family in hers. And maybe it was about
time he started his own family.

But first, he needed to get to the root of his uncle’s death. He needed to know
why he was being labelled a murderer.

241
 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHRISTMAS WAS on Sunday. Dara had seized the occasion to go over to his
home—at least it used to be. He thought he could appeal to the conscience of his
Aunt. Wasn’t Christmas all about love, and forgiveness? Things didn’t go as he’d
hoped. The gateman denied him entrance into his uncle’s house, he’d become
an émigré in his own home. He had to call Sope to help get some of his clothes.
He wasn’t comfortable with living off Nifemi and her sister, but they had
discarded his idea of moving into a hotel. Paul seconded them, and insisted he
remained in their home until he was ready to go back to the US.

Dara was confused, he wasn’t sure about a lot of things—going back to the US
was in that list. He doubted he would be allowed into the airplane—getting on
the plane wasn’t even such an issue, he stood the risk of being deported.
Apparently, he couldn’t get a student visa before travelling the first time.
Someone at the embassy had advised he took a visa waiver for tourists—the visa
was only valid for a month. He’d taken the visa waiver, so he could sort out his
registration and accommodation before lectures begun in earnest. His plan didn’t
work out—he couldn’t tender a visa waiver at school, he needed a student visa
to complete his school registration. He’d been assured at the embassy that his
student visa would be ready before the waiver expired.

He felt so ashamed of himself. He should have just waited until his student visa
was ready before travelling at all. His uncle had cajoled him to take the waiver
and go ahead; he’d assured him he would get his visa ASAP. Hmm, ASAP—Uncle
Demi was gone. Maybe if he’d waited, his uncle would still be alive. Just maybe.
He was alone again—but he was a man now, he could figure out his life alone—
with God of course. He continued to stare blankly at the ceiling. He’d been in bed
since he got back from his uncle’s house. His stomach rumbled—he’d literally
forgotten to eat. He spun and took a deep breath. He heard a knock, and sat up.

“Come in.”

242
Nifemi walked in, holding a tray firmly against her stomach with one hand, she
closed the door with another.

Dara got up and helped with the tray.

Nifemi pulled a stool closer to the bed.

“You didn’t have to.” Dara said as he set the tray on the stool.

Nifemi placed one arm on her hip. “Really? Babe, can you stop being so hard on
yourself? Please? For me?”

Dara sighed. “I just don’t have appetite for food.”

“Do you want to fall sick?”

He shook his head.

“Alright then.” She pushed him gently on the bed and uncovered the plate of
fried rice and peppered chicken. She looked up at him. “Do you want me to feed
you?”

He shook his head again.

Nifemi smiled and put the spoon in his hand. She uncovered another dish and
scooped some vegetable salad onto the plate of rice.

Dara held her hand. “That’s enough.” He smiled at the plea in Nifemi’s eyes.
“Right, I need to get all my vitamins.”

Nifemi gave him a playful nod.

“Okay, just a little more.”

Nifemi added a little more vegetable and then, poured some milk into the cup.

“Thank you.”

Nifemi smiled. “It’s my pleasure. I love you so much, Dara—so very much.”

Dara held her eyes for a moment. “I know…and I do love you, Nife. I wish I could
start my life with you already.”

Nifemi’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

Dara chuckled. “Yes babe. Except proposing to you right here—right now would
be…off.”

243
Nifemi smiled. “You know, I really don’t mind where and how you propose to me.
All that matter is that we’re together.

“Is that so?”

Nifemi nodded. “Now eat your food before it gets cold.”

Dara made a face. “I thought I’ve been able to talk you out of forcing this food
down my throat.”

She grinned. “Your prank didn’t work. Eat, will you?”

“Okay, I give up.” He chewed a spoonful of rice, and nodded in approval. “Did
you cook this?”

She smiled. “What do you think?”

Dara grinned. “Of course, you did. I’m super blessed; my woman seemed to have
it all—a pretty face, an intelligent mind, a gorgeous figure, heart that loves God,
a submissive spirit, a caring heart, hands that cook luscious meals—babe I could
go on and on.”

Nifemi couldn’t stop blushing.

“I mean every word.”

“I know you do. I’m even more blessed to have you in my life, Dara…Okay now,
keep eating and don’t make me cry.”

Dara smiled and kept eating—forcing the food down his throat would be a better
description. The food was unquestionably delicious, but his taste buds snubbed
being appealed to.

***

Obinna’s name came up during a conversation after lunch on Monday—after

Christmas day. Nifemi mentioned his sudden weird performances toward the end
of the contest and at the party. The delivery man who had delivered the kitchen
equipment from Master Chef also complained of his inability to deliver
Obinna’s—his neighbour said he’d suddenly disappeared on the same night of
the party.

244
The thoughts of Obinna didn’t leave Dara’s head all afternoon—he was literally
unsettled. Could it be that….? Mommy Kiki had also accused Nifemi of having a
hand in her husband’s death. Uncle Demilade had gone out in the same car Dara
used to drive before he travelled—Dara had driven that same car to Master Chef
Kitchen several times to either drop off or pick up Nifemi. Obinna obviously had
his eyes on the Master Chef crown, but he ended up second place. If Nifemi had
died, he would have been crowned Master Chef in her stead. Uncle Demi was shot
on the same day the Master Chef competition ended. What if Obinna had
contracted some assassin to take Nifemi off the picture? What if his uncle’s
secretary had been mistaken for Nifemi, and his uncle had been mistaken for him?
No. Obinna most definitely would have given Nifemi’s picture to the assassin. But,
Uncle Demi’s secretary had a body figure similar to Nifemi’s. Nothing was taken
out of the car—not even the money in his uncle’s briefcase. Most certainly, whoever
shot them had only one intention—to kill them.

The thoughts were driving Dara crazy.

Paul and Moyo had left the dinning to nap in their bedroom.

Nifemi observed Dara keenly—his eyes had been more distant since the
conversation about Obinna. That seemed a bit weird. “Dara. Darasimi!”

Dara skewed his head backward, closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

Nifemi held his arm. “Are you okay?”

He leaned towards her. “I’m fine. I’ve been thinking.”

Nifemi nodded. “I noticed. What about?”

“Obinna.”

“Obinna?” She asked with a quizzing stare.

“Tell me more…I mean the strange things you observed about him at the party.”

“Okay Babe, where are you going with this?”

Dara rested his elbows on the dining table and cupped his face. “I don’t know.”
He stared gravely into her eyes. “What if he had something to do with my uncle’s
death? Nifemi, my uncle was out in the same car I used to drive before I travelled!
He wasn’t robbed, he was shot! His secretary too! Whoever killed them was paid
to do that. His secretary died immediately—the shooter made sure of that. My

245
aunty accused the both of us of causing my uncle’s death…I think she knows
something.” He shrugged and slouched back. “Maybe she isn’t going into details
because she doesn’t know the full story. But I don’t think she’s crazy.”

“Hmm.” Nifemi had waved off the widow’s accusation as her way of grieving. But
now that she thought about everything Dara had said; what if Obinna had
planned to get her killed, so she wouldn’t get the Master Chef crown eventually?
Definitely, the crown would have been his if she had died. But, is that even
possible? Obinna might have a list of awful attributes, but murder didn’t seem like
an item on that list. He might be ambitious, but he didn’t seem like one who would
take the life of another human just to achieve his dream.

“Nifemi!”

Dara jolted her back from her thoughts. She shook her head. “Babe, I don’t think
Obinna has the heart to take the life of a human.”

Dara frowned. “How would you know that?”

“The guy couldn’t even handle a life crab. I helped him kill a crab during the
contest—for minutes, he stared at the innocent aquatic creature and dreaded
snuffing life out of it. Do you think such person would have the heart to kill two
innocent humans?”

Dara sighed. “You can’t say for sure. And again, how do you explain his sudden
disappearance at the party and at his apartment? Something seems fishy.”

“Okay, calm down, Dara. You said the Police were investigating the incident
already, right? I think we should just let them do their job.”

Dara sprung up, the chair almost fell to the ground. “No! I’m not going to just sit
down! I must find out who killed my uncle, and why!”

Nifemi’s heart skidded in panic; she sat still and watched him. “Dara, you’re
scaring me.”

He placed his palms on his forehead, and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean to yell at you.” He moved close and cupped her face. “I’m not going crazy.
I have a hunch about Obinna, and I need you to help me.”

Nifemi nodded.

246
 ***

Nifemi called Rose to inquire about Obinna. The lady sounded excited that Nifemi
would call her, but was surprised when Nifemi started asking questions about
Obinna. Nifemi knew she had a crush on Obinna—probably they’d even started
dating.

Rose seemed clueless as to Obinna’s whereabouts. She confided in Nifemi that

she’d been in a relationship with Obinna during the contest, but he’d called it
off just after three weeks. She told Nifemi how all of her recent attempts to reach
Obinna on his mobile line, and at his apartment had yielded no result. “I wonder
if the guy is still on this planet.” She said.

Nifemi requested for Obinna’s mobile number and address, but Rose seemed
unwilling to share such information. “Why do you even want his contact? It’s not
like you guys are friends.”

Nifemi gave her scalp a little itch with one finger. She wasn’t about to tell Rose
that her ex-boyfriend was a prime suspect of a murder incident, and she wanted
to investigate him—just when did she become a private investigator?

“The thing is, something came up. And, I really need to see Obinna.”

Rose chuckled. “Something huh? I guess you don’t want to tell me about it.”

“I’m sorry, Rose. I can’t discuss it with you. I need to see Obinna first.”

“I will text you the details. The guy seemed to have gone undercover though. I
hope you’ll be able to reach him.”

“Thanks Rose. I hope so too.” What if he’d really gone undercover?

“You’re welcome. There’s something I want to ask you.”

“Okay.”

“How soon do you think your restaurant would come to life?”

“In four to five months. Why did you ask?”

“Well I’m thinking I could get a job as an executive chef.”

Nifemi let out a short laugh. “Are you kidding?”

247
“I’m serious, Nifemi.”

“Okay, Rose. I’m honoured. I will keep you informed. But, the salary might not
be so much. Remember it’s just a start-up.”

“I know. I’m willing to take whatever you can afford. I want to grow with the
business.”

Nifemi smiled. “Wow. Okay then. Thanks once again, Rose. I really have to go
now.

“Thanks, Nifemi.”

***

Dara and Nifemi visited Obinna’s residence. Their visit didn’t seem to yield much
result. It was the same old story—Obinna had disappeared mysteriously. None
of his neighbour had any idea where he went. The last time they saw him was
the evening of the Master Chef party—they saw him leave the house, but they
doubted he came back to his apartment afterwards.

Dara had inquired from the neighbour if he’d noticed anything bizarre about
Obinna prior to his sudden disappearance.

The neighbour shook his head, but after a few moments thought, he said two
strange looking men with blood-shot eyes came looking for Obinna two days after
the last time he was seen, and he’d overheard one of them say Obinna knew
better than to f***k with them.

Dara contacted his cousin, Kiki after the visit to Obinna’s. He told her about his
suspicions.

Kiki mentioned that her mom said their dad had told her that the assassin called
the secretary Nifemi before shooting her.

Kiki drove over to Nifemi’s later that day. Dara was very glad she came. Kiki was
seventeen, but could pass for a twenty-two-year-old woman. She was in her first
year at the university. She had her mom’s plump stature, but her dad’s facial
features—black eyes, pointed nose, and cute lips. Dara couldn’t help but see her
uncle’s face on Kiki’s. He tried not to cry as they hugged and made their way to
Nifemi’s apartment.

248
Kiki was a very sweet and humble young woman. Nifemi couldn’t stop admiring
her demeanour—she carried herself with so much confidence, even her grief
couldn’t drop her shoulders. Nifemi was still learning to walk with her head held
up. There were still so many times she was tempted to keep her head down while
she walked, there were still times she wished people would stop staring, that her
heart would stop beating so fast, and that her head would stop being so light.
She believed someday, she would eventually overcome all of her insecurities and
attain a consistent confident carriage.

Kiki told them the little she knew vis-à-vis her dad’s death. Dara drove the three
of them in Kiki’s car to the Police station where the incident was being
investigated. They asked for updates and discussed their hunch with the Police
officer in charge.

The Police officer listened intently as each of the threesome talked; he nodded
occasionally and scribbled on the book before him. “Obinna would be found and
investigated. Guys, I have a good feeling about this information.” He assured
them the killers would all be brought to book.

Dara dropped off Nifemi at her place, and drove Kiki back to the house. His heart
was in his mouth as he drove into the compound.

The gateman seemed excited to see him. He kept making salutes.

“I can’t go into the house.” Dara said as he pulled over at the parking lot.

Kiki chuckled. “Big Bros, you should see your face right now. Don’t worry, Mom
would be napping.”

“Are you sure, Kiki?”

She gave him a facial gesture that said he could trust her, and unlocked her
side of the door. “Come-on brother.”

Dara sighed. It was absurd to imagine that he would be alienated from the same
home he’d spent the last fourteen years of his life. He treaded with caution—
looking around with frantic face and taking little steps as he followed Kiki up the
porch, and then, into the living room.

“Uncle Dara!” Tito yelled in excitement and ran into Dara’s arms.

249
Dara was their cousin, but the kids had gotten used to calling him uncle—they
esteemed him like one too, but related with him like he was their elder brother.
How he missed them already.

“I missed you, Uncle Dara.” Tito held onto his arms and walked him to a couch,
with Sope walking on the other side of Dara.

Kiki sat on the two-settee beside Sope.

“I missed you all, kiddos.” Dara sniffed. It was the first time he was sitting with
his cousins since their dad’s death. “How are you guys holding up?”

Sope shrugged.

“Mommy hasn’t stopped crying. She always cries herself to sleep.” Tito said,
brushing a tear from her cheek.

Dara pulled Tito closer. “We all need to be strong for mommy, okay?”

Tito nodded, her arms around Dara’s waist. She rested her head on his shoulder.
“I wish you were here with us.”

Dara sighed, and then, his heart jumped into his mouth as he sighted Mommy
Kiki on the stairs. Tito’s arms were fixed firmly around him. “I really need to go
now.” He said softly.

“But you just got here.” Tito raised her head up slightly and sighted her mom.
She reluctantly pulled her arms away, and then got up and ran up the stairs.

“I’ll walk you to the gate.” Sope said as Dara got up.

“Me too.” Kiki added.

Dara bowed and said good evening and goodbye to Mommy Kiki.

The widow remained mute. One hand on the rail, she remained still on the stair
and watched as her kids walked Dara out of the house. Tito had ran to her room.
She couldn’t stop her kids from loving Dara, but she was not going to take any
chances by allowing him remain in her home—that would be directly
proportional to giving him the right to run her husband’s company, and her
home. She shook her head and walked down the stairs. She fell onto an exquisite
lounger situated at one corner of the living room, and stared at her husband’s

250
portrait hanging on the wall. “Demilade, how are we going to live without you?
How?” She sobbed again.

***

Dara was still fast asleep when Nifemi left the house for work at Wendy’s on
Wednesday morning. It was her first day at Wendy’s—not literally though; she’d
been there to eat on few occasions—but it was her first day as a staff, or better
still, as an intern. She tiptoed into the kid’s room which had become Dara’s
room—Seth and Grace were still holidaying at their paternal grandparents.
Nifemi brought in Dara’s breakfast—sandwich and smoothie. She dropped the
breakfast on a stool close to the bed, with a note advising him to get his lunch
from the fridge and microwave it—she ended the note with an FYI that says; ‘my
eyes are on you, you will get reprimanded if you go on hunger strike. I love you.’

Dara smiled as he read the note. He looked up at the clock—it was 10am. He
eyed the breakfast—he still had issues with his appetite. His stomach grumbled
a little, and then louder, and even more louder—it was almost like his stomach
had seen the breakfast and was getting furious at him for not eating already. His
stomach could yell all it want; he didn’t want to eat just yet. He wanted to spend
time with God. He needed healing for his mind, he needed directions, he needed
assurance that he could still be the man God wanted Him to be—without his
uncle by his side; without any human cheering him. He needed to know what
God had to say about his situation—and his future.

He opened his bible and began to study Psalm 61. He meditated on the second
verse, muttering the words several times over— “From the ends of the earth I
call to you, “I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher
than I.”

He fell on his knees and began to pray—for himself, his family—mommy Kiki and
his cousins—his future with Nifemi. He rolled off every burden in his heart over
to the Lord. He picked up his bible again, and opened to Isaiah 41—the ninth
and tenth verses caught his attention. He picked up his journal and scribbled
down the words of the Lord—I took you from the ends of the earth, from its
farthest corners I called you. I said, ‘You are my servant’; I have chosen you
and have not rejected you. So, do not fear, for I am with you; do not be

251
dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will
uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Dara felt like cold water was being poured over him as he read the words again,
the sounds that came from his own mouth were like the gentle soothing voice of
the Holy Spirit in his ears. He felt his nerves being calmed, and colour gradually
returned to his face. He wasn’t going to grieve like an unbeliever—his uncle
believed in Christ, hence he had no doubt about the location of his spirit—he
was with Jesus.

Dara picked up his phone and put on his worship playlist. He laid flat on the
floor and raised his hands towards heaven as he sang along—his face, a
combination of smile and tears—the tears weren’t of sorrow, but hope—such
hope that gives boldness, and takes away shame and fear and doubts—for God’s
love had indeed been shed abroad in his heart by Jesus Christ.1

His voice started to get softer after an hour of worship. He folded his arms in
between his thighs as he mimed a worship song in soft tones.

The worship song was interrupted by the sound of his ringing tone. He pushed
himself up on his butt and picked up the phone. It was Kiki. “Hey Kiki.”

“Good morning, Uncle Dara.”

“Morning dear.”

“I’ve got news.”

Dara jumped onto his feet. “What is it?”

“The Obinna guy has been apprehended. Your hunch was right, he killed daddy.”
Kiki spurted into tears. “It was all because of some Master Chef crown. He
wanted to kill Nifemi, so he could get the crown in her stead. The assassin
mistook the secretary for Nifemi, and daddy for you…” Kiki went on and on, but
Dara wasn’t listening any longer. He threw the phone on his bed and fell onto
his knees, dipping his fingers into the mattress, and crying copiously like a kid.

His aunt’s sudden rage and outbursts of accusations made sense now. It was all
his fault. If he hadn’t signed Nifemi up for Master Chef Contest, his uncle would
still be alive. Why did he do it?

252
 ***

Dara didn’t say a word to Nifemi about what Kiki had told him. He didn’t want
her carrying any load of guilt. He was going to bear the guilt for the both of them.
He tried not to show it though. He ensured he ate up his breakfast and lunch
before she got back. He tried to act as normal as can be—engaging in
conversations during dinner and eating every bit of porridge set before him.

“Hmm. Someone seems hungry.”

Dara smiled.

“Don’t be shy to ask for more.”

He chuckled. “No thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Nifemi queried, eyeing his empty plate and flaunting the bowl of
leftover before him.

“Tempt me not. I need to keep my weight in check.”

Paul and Moyo laughed at the twosome.

“You know; you guys make a great couple.” Paul commented.

Dara shot Nifemi a look of admiration. “I know. She complements me so well.”

Nifemi went red in the face as she replaced the lid on the bowl of leftover.

“Someone’s blushing.” Moyo jested.

Nifemi’s phone rang as she gulped in her last spoon of porridge. She excused
herself and walked into the kitchen. "Hey Rose. What's up?"

"Hello Nifemi. Have you heard?"

Nifemi frowned, and rested one arm on the kitchen cabinet. “Heard what?

“Obinna was apprehended earlier today.”

“What?! Why?”

253
“Nifemi, God truly loves you. Obinna contracted some guys to kill you, so he
could take your place as the Nigerian Master Chef.”

Nifemi held her forehead—a sudden ache struck her in the head. “Oh my God!”

“I never knew Obinna could kill for money. To think that I actually dated a
murderer…Are you there, Nifemi?

Nifemi bit her lip. “Yes. My boyfriend’s uncle and his secretary were killed.”

“I’m so sorry dear. I learnt one of the assassins who didn’t see your picture had
sighted the car at a filling station, and gave his colleagues who were already
situated at your usual route a call. Apparently they told him to do the job
instead—he assumed the people in the car were you and your boyfriend.”

Nifemi bent and sat on the kitchen floor. “What! That explains the look on
Obinna’s face when he saw me at the party.”

“Yes, and his sudden disappearance too. I learnt he refused to pay the guys the
one million naira they’d charged him, seeing that was all he got out of the Master
Chef eventually.”

Nifemi shook her head. “I still can’t believe this. “Obinna! I wish I never signed
up for the contest.”

“Come on Nifemi. Don’t blame yourself. Whatever Obinna did wasn’t your fault.”

Nifemi hit herself on the leg several times over. “But this wouldn’t have happened
if I wasn’t in the picture. Rose, two lives were lost, all because I won some
competition.”

“I’m going to say this again, Nifemi. It wasn’t your fault. It was all Obinna’s.”

***

The thoughts of Nifemi interrupted Dara’s quiet time with God. It was 10am, and
Dara hadn’t seen Nifemi. It was unlike her. He’d been awake since 6am, so, he
would have known if she’d brought him breakfast before leaving for work. He
was sure she wouldn’t leave the house without seeing him, bringing him
breakfast, and even instructing him with regards to lunch.

254
Dara got off the bed and set his journal on the side drawer. He walked to the
door, and then hesitated. He wasn’t going to show up before Nifemi without
getting a mouth wash. He rushed over to the bathroom to get his mouth washed.
Somehow, he still feels the need to impress her, like he’d always done since he
was nine. Nifemi was a very beautiful and smart lady—no man in his right senses
wouldn’t be attracted to her. Sometimes, it still beats his imaginations that she
was in love with him. He didn’t doubt her love, but sometimes he was scared it
might not last. Outwardly speaking, he wasn’t the kind of guys Nifemi falls in
love with—he wasn’t six feet, and he didn’t have joggling muscles. His teenage
insecurities seemed to be creeping back into his life lately.

He sighed as he finally got to the entrance to Nifemi’s room—it took him rather
too long, considering Nifemi’s room was only one door away from his. He knocked
and waited for a response, but there was none. He knocked again, and then
again—louder this time. There was still no response. He was tempted to push
down the door handle, but he wasn’t comfortable doing that. He waited for a few
minutes before knocking again.

The door opened slowly. Nifemi stared at him for a brief—still dressed in her
pyjamas, her face looked downcast. She left the door open and walked back to
the bed

“Is everything fine? You aren’t going to work today?”

Nifemi sat on the bed, she slouched backward with her hands resting on the bed.

Dara sat beside her. “What’s up with you, babe?”

“Nothing!”

“Okay, that was shrill.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He pulled her closer, but she seemed rigid. He felt confused at her
sudden rigidity. “Is it something I did?”

She looked at him briefly, and then looked away.

What? She’s not even looking me in the eyes. Does she find me repulsive now? His
insecurities were at it again. He shook his head.

Nifemi relaxed and shifted into his arms. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

255
“Okay, so, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Dara, I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

She suddenly burst into tears.

Dara looked quizzical. Why was she crying—and sorry. Had she cheated on him?

“I’m so sorry. I killed your uncle.”

His pounding heart immediately relaxed. Thank God it wasn’t what he thought.
“That’s nonsense. Why would you say that?”

“But he died because of me?”

Dara pulled away gently and held her shoulders. “You didn’t cause his death.”

“But Obinna—”

“Yes, Obinna killed him, not you.”

“You know already.”

Dara nodded.

She put her arms around his waist and cried on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He hugged her back. “Please stop apologizing.”

“But it’s all my fault.”

“Come on, Nifemi. I signed you up, remember? If anyone should be blamed, it
should be me. How did you get the information anyway? I wasn’t going to tell
you.”

“Rose told me.”

“I see.” She sniffed, still holding on to his waist. “Why weren’t you going to tell
me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to do this—crying and blaming yourself.”

Nifemi’s phone rang, but she seemed unshaken by it.

“I wish I never went for Master Chef. Probably your uncle would still be alive.”

256
“Probably not. You committed no crime going for Master Chef. All you did was
reach out for your dreams—which was a smart thing to do. Remember, it wasn’t
your kind of thing, but somehow, God gave you the courage to go for it. You did,
and you won. Winning was a good thing.”

Her phone rang again.

“I think you should answer your phone.”

She shrugged. “I don’t want to. It’s probably Dennis.”

“Who is he?”

“The Manager at Wendy’s.”

“It’s past your resumption time. Don’t you think you should start getting ready
for work?”

“I don’t want to go to work anymore.”

“Okay, you want to be a full housewife?”

She laughed briefly. “Funny. That wasn’t what I meant. I mean I don’t want to
go to Wendy’s anymore. I don’t want anything that has Master Chef on it. It has
caused so much pain already. I’m going to return everything. Rose can have them
all.

Dara pulled away and cupped her face in his palms. “That is nonsense. Babe,
you are not going to give up on Master Chef. You worked for everything. You
earned everything you’ve been given. So, get rid of the idea that Master Chef
brought so much pain with it. Whatever happened was a coincident. I’m not
going to watch you give up on your dreams. Never!

Nifemi got up and walked to the door, she rested her back on it, and folded her
arms over her chest. The thought of Master Chef and everything that came with
it suddenly brought her regret and fear, and grief. She didn’t imagine that her
harmless efforts to leave her comfort zone and pursue her dream would cause
the death of not just one, but two innocent lives. Tears drizzled down her cheeks.
She didn’t have the heart to go on with Master Chef, and keep all the prizes—
they all seemed blood stained.

Dara got up and walked over to her. “I think you are being unnecessarily hard
on yourself.

257
“Dara, I’m sorry. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.”

Dara sighed. “Come here.” He pulled her closer, and hugged her. “I love you.”

Nifemi snorted.

He moved his hands up her back, and held her neck gently.

Nifemi pulled back and stared into his eyes.

His eyes held hers, his hands still on her neck. He leaned his face closer to hers.

Nifemi closed her eyes as his lips got closer. She could hear his soft, but fast
breaths.

He suddenly pulled away. “I’m sorry.”

Nifemi opened her eyes, her heart still beating fast.

Dara prickled his head—rather harshly. “I should leave now.”

Nifemi nodded, and went back to her bed.

“Are you going to Wendy’s?” He asked before spinning.

Nifemi shook her head.

Dara knew she was disappointed that he didn’t kiss her. But, he wasn’t supposed
to. He hadn’t forgotten her desire to save her next kiss till marriage. And he had
promised God too. She was vulnerable at the moment, but, he wasn’t going to
take advantage of the situation. He felt sorry that he’d attempted to kiss her.
Thank God for jolting him back to his senses. He would wait. “God, please help
me to wait.” He muttered—but not quite enough for Nifemi’s ears, as he closed
the door to her room.

Nifemi suddenly felt like a Delilah. She wished she was the one who had
controlled the situation and not Dara. Why was she so defenceless? Dara wanted
to wait, and was putting in all efforts to do same. What about her? What was she
doing to wait? Was she really serious about waiting? Because it didn’t seem like
it took much for her to give in to a kiss. She hated being so vulnerable.

Her phone rang again. It was Dennis, calling non-stop. Was he really calling
because he cared about her learning the art of running a restaurant, or, maybe
he had something up his sleeves—like waiting for the perfect moment to take
advantage of her. She let out a long breath and turned off the phone. She would

258
never be vulnerable before Dennis ever. There would be no such opportunity
again. She was done with Master Chef, she was done with Wendy’s—sadly so.

259
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ALL ATTEMPTS to get Nifemi to return to the Master Chef and all that came with
it—excluding the murder by Obinna—were ineffectual. She could only remember
one thing about her participation in the Master Chef contest—two people were
killed because she won. She spent the next one week at home.

It was awful that she started the year in a grief-stricken and mystifying mode.
What a way to start a new year! Even the one thing she could do in her dream
had literally become impossible in reality—she couldn’t cook. Was she dying?

Wendy and Chef Roti had called several times, but she didn’t answer any of their
calls, and eventually, she’d switched off her phone.

Dara didn’t know what else to do but pray for her. So was Moyo. Nifemi was a
very reserved and easy-going lady, but she could be stubborn when she wanted
to be. It was hard to convince her whenever her mind was made up on
something—only the Holy Spirit had the power to convince her in such
situations.

Everyone seemed to have given up on changing her mind towards Master Chef.
They’d all given her the space to do whatever she deemed right. She was left
alone to figure out what next it was she wanted to do with her life. But, no matter
how hard she thought and prayed about it, her future without Master Chef
seemed nothing, but hazy. She was confused. How could she return to Master
Chef and all its luxury, knowing that her being there had caused the death of
two humans? She couldn’t live with that. No!

She got off the bed and paced around her room. She was the only one at home.
Dara had gone out to see some friends.

Why was everything so puzzling. Her decision to not go back to Master Chef made
her uncomfortable, while the thought of going back filled her with guilt. What

260
was she going to do? She paced back to the bed and picked up her phone. She
turned it on.

The phone buzzed several times over—loads of messages came in almost at the
same time. There was one from an unknown number, she opened it and read; “I
want you to know that you didn’t cause my dad’s death. He was a man of God.
And I believe God makes all things work for the good of those who love Him. If God
allowed my dad to be killed, even though it’s a hard thing to say—I believe it was
all for my dad’s good. My dad is happier with Jesus now. But he wouldn’t like
that you gave up on your dreams because of him. Sister Nifemi, please go back to
Master Chef. Even, Tito is looking forward to working at your restaurant—she
wants to make her own money while studying. Sister in-law to-be, please get back
to work. We’re all rooting for you, and are super impressed at your triumph. Please
go get your dreams already!

While Nifemi was still pondering on the words of Kiki, she heard a knock on the
front door. Was Dara back already? It wasn’t long he left the house.

Still dressed in her night-dress, she put on her night robe, and fastened her long
synthetic hair with a rubber band. She heard the knock again as she slipped her
feet into a pair of slippers and hurried out of her bedroom. Another knock came
as she was about opening the front door.

“Oh!” She almost made a pact with the ground; if it would open its mouth and
swallow her right away—of course she was going to get out later, when these
people standing on her doorway, and piercing at her were gone. The ground
seemed to be deaf to her muted wishes though.

“Good morning to you, Chef Nifemi.” Wendy spoke first.

“Is it a good time?” Chef Roti added.

Nifemi nodded, unable to open her mouth. She stepped aside to make way for
them, and then, closed the door as the two unexpected guests entered the living
room, and made themselves comfortable on the couch before she summoned
enough courage to spun and face them again.

“Is okay if you want to change into something more…comfortable before we talk.”
Wendy said, giving her a wink.

261
She wanted to do that. She was becoming overly self-conscious, and totally
uncomfortable. She nodded, and raced out of the living room. She ran into her
bedroom, straight to her wardrobe. She picked up a sweatshirt and jeans, and
hurriedly changed into them. She looked into her big mirror. She couldn’t believe
she just appeared before Wendy and Chef Roti, looking like a—she couldn’t think
of the right adjective. She pulled out the band from her hair, combed out the
tangles, added some cream to her face, and some gloss to her lips. She had
already brushed her teeth and washed her face earlier that morning. She took
some deep breaths, and went out of the bedroom.

Wendy nodded in approval as Nifemi appeared in the living room.

“Good morning sir, and ma’am.” She finally said, speaking to them for the first
time. “Can I offer you anything?”

“No.” Chef Roti said. “It’s not like we are here on some courtesy visit.”

Wendy jerked Chef Roti on the arm. “Be nice.”

Nifemi smiled.

Chef Roti cleared his throat. “What is this I hear about you giving up on Master
Chef?”

Nifemi bit her lower lip.

Wendy smiled. “Nifemi, I understand all you may be going through right now.
You know why? Because I’ve been there. I met my husband at Europe. We were
both chefs. It was my idea that we come to Nigeria and start our own restaurant
business. He didn’t really like the idea at first. He liked Europe, even though
Nigeria was his home country. But I convinced him we could make more money
and impact more lives in Nigeria. He believed in my idea, and we came down to
Nigeria to start Wendy’s.” Wendy chuckled. “The name was his idea. I still
remember arguing with him about using my name, I didn’t want people thinking
I was using my husband to run my restaurant—you know how Nigerians can
be.”

Nifemi nodded.

“Richie died a few years after we started the restaurant. He was involved in an
accident on his way back from meeting a potential investor.” Wendy breathed
heavily and sniffed. “I was devastated. The restaurant was closed for five months.

262
I was weak and blank in the head. My mom was the one taking care of Dennis
in those months, and she was the one who literally nagged me back to life. I bore
the guilt of Richie’s death for months. The grief was hard enough, adding guilt
to it almost snuffed life out of me. I told myself over and again that Richie
wouldn’t have died if we had remained as employees in Europe.”

Nifemi listened with rapt attention, her back, straight up, and hands clasped
between her knees.

Wendy sighed. “But thank God, He healed my guilt-stricken and broken heart.
He taught me to live again. I have a purpose to fulfil on earth, and Richie’s death
was a pointer that I didn’t have forever to do that, hence, my purpose required
urgency. Look at me today, Nifemi. Wendy was only one restaurant in Lagos
when Richie died, but today, Wendy is a chain of restaurants across the country,
with Franchise in other African countries. Wendy pays the salary of more than
three hundred employees and she’s one of the major sponsors of the Nigerian
Master Chef. Imagine if Wendy had given up on her dream because her husband
died, and she thought she caused it, and the restaurant reminded her of that.
That would have meant depriving over three hundred people a stable means of
livelihood, and depriving passionate youths like you the opportunity of fulfilling
their dreams—through the Nigerian Master Chef.”

Nifemi nodded.

“You see my dear, your dream isn’t just about you, and neither is your life all
about you and your feelings. There are lives connected to yours, whose dreams
would not be achieved if you don’t achieve yours. We all have stories. Life
happens. But every day you live on earth is an opportunity to impact another
life. Don’t let the devil bury your purpose under some gruelling piles of grief and
guilt. You don’t have forever to fulfil destiny. Purpose requires urgency. It
transcends making money. There are lives waiting to be influenced by yours.
Nifemi, get up and go fulfil destiny!

Nifemi wondered if Dennis knew all these—he lived on impulse, not purpose.
Okay, who was she to judge him?

Wendy smiled. “I was right when I said you reminded me of myself at your age.
How come we have so many things in common?”

263
Chef Roti didn’t say much afterwards, except that he was expecting Nifemi to
report at Wendy’s as soon as they left.

But Wendy in her usual sweetness objected and said Nifemi could take the day
off, to reflect on all she’d said and to pull herself together in preparation for the
work that was ahead. She gave Nifemi a friendly hug before leaving.

Chef Roti maintained a stern face and gave Nifemi a firm handshake before he
went into his car. Nifemi opened the gate, and waved at them as they drove out
of the compound. She wondered who opened the gate for them earlier when they
came in.

***

Dara came back with good news. He got a mail from the embassy—his student
visa was ready! He couldn’t control his excitement as he shared the news with
Nifemi and her family. He grinned from ear to ear. “God is faithful.”

“Yes, He is.” Nifemi affirmed. “He doesn’t withhold good things from those who
love Him.1”

Dara shook His head. “No, He doesn’t.”

“So, how soon are you leaving?” Paul asked after dinner.

"The school registration closes in a week. I should leave in two days. I will buy
my travel ticket tomorrow, and also make attempts to talk to my Aunty."

"That's fine." Paul said, crossing his legs. "I hope she grants you audience this
time."

"I hope so too... I really appreciate you and your wife—hosting and feeding me
for almost two weeks. I'm truly grateful sir--and ma."

Paul smiled. "Come on, you are family."

“Don’t mention it.” Moyo added.

Though seated in the living room, Nifemi seemed to be absent, as her fingers
were firmly grasped to a remote pad, with which she flipped through channels
on the TV—none of the channels seemed to hook her interest.

“Nifemi, are you okay?” Moyo asked, observing her.

264
“Hmmn.” Nifemi nodded.

Moyo shook her head. “You don’t seem like it. What’s up?”

Paul and Dara also turned their focus to her.

Nifemi sighed and dropped the remote on the glass stool beside the sofa she was
seated. “Chef Roti and Madam Wendy were here early today.”

Moyo’s eyes lightened up. “Really? Were they able to talk you into going back to
Master Chef?”

“They did. Even Kiki sent me a text—she also advised I go back.”

“So?” Moyo asked.

“I’m going back.”

“Thank God!” Dara exclaimed.

Moyo sighed and relaxed her back against the sofa.

“You still don’t look happy.” Dara observed. “Are you still uncomfortable about
going back?”

The corner of her mouth tilted a little, like she was trying to force out a smile.
“No, it’s fine.” That wasn’t completely true, she was still uncomfortable about
going back, but it was the right thing to do. Like Wendy rightly said, her life
doesn’t revolve around her—there were plenty of lives whose purposes are
depended on hers. Irrespective of how she felt about what had happened, she
was going back to maximally utilize every prize and opportunity that came with
Master Chef. But that was only one of her worries at the moment; she had
another worry—she kissed Felix, while in a relationship with Dara—she’d been
feeling the need to confess to Dara, but she didn’t have the guts to. He was going
through so much as it is. She didn’t want to add the pain of having an
unprincipled partner to his loads of hurts. But, was she really unprincipled?
Maybe she was, but not anymore.

“Nifemi!”

Dara’s voice jolted her out of the pool of her thoughts. “I’m fine!” She got up and
went straight to her room. The threesome stared at her in bewilderment.

“I think she has more on her mind than Master Chef.” Dara said concernedly.

265
“I think so too.” Moyo nodded. “Just let her be. She would talk when she’s ready
to.”

“Sure she would.” Paul nodded. He would have been angry at the way she just
walked out on them if he didn’t know her so well. He glanced at Dara, and all he
saw on his face was concern—not irritation; Dara understood Nifemi so well too—
he seemed like one who’d been shaped by God for her.

266
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

IN BETWEEN learning the basics of running a restaurant at Wendy’s, and

putting together recipes for her proposed cookery book, Nifemi scarcely had time
for herself—she was almost working round the clock.

Though awkward, the first month at Wendy’s didn’t require her reaching for her
self-control—she didn’t need it; Dennis was as gentle and professional as could
be. But, in the second month, he got awfully nice—too nice for concern. He
wasn’t flirty in the real sense of the word—only he brought Nifemi unsolicited
lunches while she was buried in paper works, and offered her rides home after
work. At first, Nifemi took the offers gratefully as courtesy demanded, but as the
days went by she felt a voice telling her to flee—it was obvious Dennis wanted
something again—something she couldn’t give. Even though his acts seemed
sweet, they were appearances of evil—apparently, even evil could seem sweet for
a while.

It took a few Nos from Nifemi to get Dennis back into professional mode.

It was Nifemi’s last month at Wendy’s. Though Dennis had been the one
mentoring her on Restaurant Management, Wendy also took out time to pass
some priceless knowledge across to her whenever she was around. Wendy was
busy with her restaurant expansion in Ghana, and was barely available—she
assured Nifemi she could call her whenever she needed anything.

Wendy had just returned from Ghana. To Nifemi’s amazement, the woman went
straight to work, got settled, and called Nifemi to come over with her business
plan.

Nifemi picked up her spiral-bonded business plan from her temporary work desk
and hurried to Wendy’s office. She knocked and opened the door.

Wendy smiled from across her desk. “Please sit. I need to quickly send a few
mails.”

267
“Okay ma’am.” Nifemi sat on the chair across her, her business plan on the desk.
She observed as Wendy punched the keyboard so fast without looking down.

Wendy grasp the mouse and hit send. She sighed and looked up at Nifemi.
“What’s up, Master Chef?”

Nifemi smiled. “I’m very well ma’am.”

“So, tell me, how has it been?”

“Awesome, inspiring, educative, and the list goes on.”

Wendy chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. So, do you think you are ready to run
your own restaurant?”

Nifemi nodded, and backed it with an agreeing “Yes.”

“Hmm. Let me see your business plan.”

Nifemi handed the business plan to her.

Wendy put her glasses on and flipped slowly through the pages—reading each
line. “So, what would you say is the reason most restaurants fail in their first
year?” She asked, her face still buried in the business plan.”

“Lack of proper planning is what I would say.”

“So, what category of restaurant are you planning to open, Chef Nifemi?”

“An upscale restaurant.”

“You have such a massive dream, don’t you?”

Nifemi nodded. “Do you think they are attainable—my dreams I mean?”

Wendy raised her head and held Nifemi’s eyes with hers. “What do you think?”
She asked gravely.

Nifemi bit her lip. “I think they are attainable.”

Wendy nodded. “That is all that matters. If you are serious about achieving your
dreams, you must cultivate the habit of not asking everyone’s opinion about your
dreams. The only Person you should ask is God, and if He bids you go ahead,
then, start conceiving it, and make necessary efforts to achieve it. You need to
be wary of the kind of voices you allow into your mind. There are lots of gloomy
Gus out there who would feel threatened by your dream, and discourage you all

268
together. So, my dear, stop asking everyone what they think. What do God think?
And what do you think? Those are all that matters.

Nifemi nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“So, as the proposed owner of an upscale restaurant, what should be your focus?

“The quality of cuisine, and the ambience of facilities.”

“I’m sure you have no problem with the cuisine. Let’s talk about the facilities.
Aside the rent, what is the projected cost of equipment, furniture and dishware
needed to give the restaurant the needed ambience?

“Four million naira—for starters.”

“Wow, that’s quite huge. You will be left with one million naira only. How do you
intend to take care of the other expense?”

“I’m hoping I would get some investors to help—”

“Nifemi! Investors don’t help. They share in your company ownership and profit,
and sometimes, decision making. I want to believe Dennis told you that.”

“He did ma’am. I shouldn’t have used the word—help. I’m sorry.”

“Why do you want to go for an upscale restaurant?”

“My objective is to create a warm and friendly place with excellent food; a place
where you always know you will get the best of everything— cozy dining rooms,
sophisticated lounge, comfortable furnishings ad décor with soothing warm
tones and menu inspired from different countries’ specialities—such that appeal
to a diverse clientele.” She smiled. “Warm colours, fresh flowers, soft music,
candles, and amazing artworks—an ideal place for dinner dates, formal parties,
business meetings, marriage proposals and the likes.”

Nifemi waited patiently for another hour as Wendy focused her attention on the
printed business plan—reading slowly, flipping pages, and scribbling something
on a few sticky notes which she stuck to different pages of the plan, before
handing the documents back to Nifemi.

“Go through my comments, and address them. I want us to get this plan done
before the end of the day.”

269
Nifemi went back to the office she shared with Dennis and got herself busy with
addressing the comments by Wendy.

Before the end of the day, she got the plan right—including the figures—she
needed ten million naira—for starters. To her amazement, Wendy was so
impressed with her plan, she promised to partner with her by supplying the
remaining five million naira, and giving moral support every step of the way.

Wendy and Nifemi checked online for properties that were on lease or rent, and
booked appointments with some agents. The restaurant had to be strategically
located to be readily accessible to its target customers.

Nifemi was super excited. Lines were falling in pleasant places for her1—indeed,
God does make all things beautiful in His time.2 She was learning to trust
and depend more on God—and it does pay—God’s strength came through for her
in all areas where she was weak.3 She kept her mind stayed on God and her
purpose—the result had been a phenomenal peace.

Dara was helping her build an official website and app for her business. She had
sent him a list of the menu she wanted featured on the site, and she had also
picked a name for her business—‘Charisa’s Diner & Lounge.’ Charisa was a
Greek name that meant ‘grace’—and she was obviously an epitome of grace.

***

The next one month after leaving Wendy’s was spent on a one-month tour to
some selected African countries—learning cuisines that were particular to each
nation. It was one of the best experiences Nifemi had ever had. The tour was
made with Chef Bridget—and she related with Nifemi like a sister all through the
journey.

Having a first-hand experience in several African kitchens, and being taught by

some of the finest African Chefs was something Nifemi would always treasure.

The East African Maandazi and Vegetable Curry, the Ethiopian Berbere Paste
and Yellow Spice Bread, the North African Baked fish and Roast Chicken stuffed
with couscous in a honey sauce, the south African Bobotie, the West African
Mango Sauce—and the list went on as Nifemi scribbled on her travel journal.

270
She worked on her proposed cookery book in between trips, and at her hotel
room after long hours of understudying chefs and reading cookery books that
had been gifted to her—which included books that were written and signed by
some of the chefs she’d understudied. It usually took Dara’s plea during video
calls to get her to sleep. Reading and writing seemed to have become two of her
most favourite hobbies lately, and she was enjoying it. She had also gotten a title
for her book—it came during one of her quite times with God—“Healthy &
Yummy Cuisines.” In addition to her own recipes, she was featuring recipes by
some of her favourite chefs.

Everything was working for her right now; she thought as she opened her eyes
an hour after Dara had put her to sleep via their usual video call routines.
Somehow, she’d been awakened by her own thoughts. Indeed, God is able to do
exceedingly, abundantly, above all we could ask or ever imagine.4 It was the last
night of her tour—she would be leaving South Africa, and heading back to Nigeria
the next day. She spun and grinned widely. Her personal walk with God was
getting better and cordial by the day; the sin that easily besotted her had been
taken care of by God’s strength in her; she had gotten an amazing location for
her business; she had forwarded the manuscript for her cookery book to Chef
Roti and Wendy; a notable South African Chef had written the foreword for her
cookery book; she was in relationship with a godly man who truly adored her
and loved her unconditionally. She had confessed to Dara the last episode she
had with Felix. Even though Dara was hurt for a few minutes, he’d forgiven her
and had never referred to the incident afterwards.

For Nifemi, it was a new beginning, one characterised by love, trust, faith and
hope—her past was behind her. She gave thanks to God, singing songs of
worship until she fell asleep again.

***

Bayo and Obehi had planned to arrive Lagos State Polytechnic, Ikorodu in time
to get Obehi settled in at the examination hall before the exam started—they
were one hour early; but to their amazement, there was already a crowd of
students who had arrived the centre before them, all formed into four
outrageously long queues.

Bayo found a parking space.

271
Obehi unstrapped her seat belt. The thought of joining one of those long queues
filled her with dread as she opened the door.

“Hold on.” Bayo said. “It’s not healthy for you to stand on any of those long lines
in your condition. “I will be back.” Bayo got down from the car and walked up to
one of the exam halls. He shook his head at the stress the students had to go
through just before sitting for their university entrance exam—it was a sunny
day, and some of the students were seated on the bare floor, still studying. He
felt pity for them, and even waved at them. He finally found one of the exam
officials. “Good Day Sir.”

“Good Day Mr.”

Bayo shook hands with the man. “Actually, I need a favour.”

“Are you here for the UTME?” The exam officer queried.

Bayo smiled. “No Sir. I brought a student though.”

“Oh ok. Is she on the queue?”

“No again. She’s in the car?”

The middle-aged, pot-bellied man raised his eye brows. “Okay, is she crippled or
something?”

Dara chuckled. “No, she’s not. She’s pregnant. And I don’t think it’s healthy for
her to stand on any of those long queues—and definitely, not under the sizzling
sun.”

The man smiled. “Is she your wife?”

How is that even his business? Bayo shook his head. “Actually, No. She’s my
sister.”

“Okay, you can bring her.”

“Thank you, sir.

Bayo went over to the car, and walked Obehi to the exam hall.

Obehi was seven months pregnant. She couldn’t help but hear the side talks of
some of the applicants, like; “She looks so young, yet pregnant.” “Maybe she’s
married already.” “I see no ring on her finger.” “Maybe he’s her boyfriend.” “He’s
so cute.” “And he’s rich too.” “Pregnancy sure looks good on her.” Gosh! The not

272
so soft voices were deafening, and Obehi felt like running. Her legs shook as she
walked. Thank God! She sighed as Bayo grabbed her arm.

Bayo waited in his car until Obehi was done with her exams. “How did it go?” He
asked as Obehi got into the car, grinning.

Obehi relaxed her head and burst into laughter.

Bayo chuckled. “This seems like a good sign.”

“It is a good sign, brother. God bless Eva!”

“Amen. What did she do?”

“Have you ever written an exam and feel like you saw the questions beforehand?”

“Hmm…Yes.”

“That was what this exam was like. I feel like Eva was an Angel sent by God to
show me the questions, and expound the answers to me in advance.”

“Wow!”

“Yes. That’s the word—it’s a wow indeed. Thank God! I am so certain about this
exam—I can boldly say I expect to score above 300.”

“Wow! I’m impressed.”

“And I’m so thankful to you, brother—and to Sister Uzo. Thank you for
everything. I’m so blessed to have you two in my life.”

Bayo gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We are equally blessed to have you two in
our lives—I mean you and that little cutie growing in your tommy.”

Obehi smiled. “Thanks brother.”

“Always dear. We had better get going before your sister send out a search party.”

Obehi chuckled as Bayo turned on the ignition.

***

Nifemi had a girls’ picnic with her sister, Uzo and Obehi on the Sunday afternoon
following her return from the one-month tour. It was Moyo’s suggestion, and
somehow, she was thankful for it. She really needed the distraction. She’d had

273
to work four months on a stretch. And even now that she was done with the
training at Wendy’s, her first cookery book and a one-month tour, she felt she
was going to be even busier than ever. Setting up a restaurant wasn’t a child’s
play, and though she had the help of Master Chef and Wendy, she couldn’t totally
rid herself of the bits of fear that still beleaguered her mind, but she wasn’t going
to back down—God didn’t give her the Spirit of fear, but of love, power and a
sound mind.5 She’d already open herself up to possibilities she’d never imagined,
it was too late to go back into the shell she’d once built for herself, neither did
she have any plans of going back—the shell sucks! Mediocrity sucks! God was
able to bring to perfection every good thing He’d begun in her life, and she was
going to trust Him every step of the way.6 No more settling!

Dressed in blue jean trousers, matching white chivon blouses and brown hats,
the four ladies were seated on a mat positioned a long distance from the ocean.
They had boxes of Pizza, chicken bites, cupcakes, bottles of smoothies,
disposable plates and paper towels set before them.

“You know; life can be really intriguing when we decide to live out our calling.”
Uzo said, and dug into her cup cake.

Moyo uncovered the box of pizza. “Very true.” She said, nodding. “It’s just,
sometimes, it takes rather too long to discover our calling, and even longer to
make the decision and summon enough courage to walk in that calling.” She
separated the four disposable plates and cut out the pizza.

Obehi licked her lips after sipping in some smoothie. “But why is walking in our
callings such a difficult thing to do?”

“I think a lot of the difficulties come from the battles on the inside of us.” Uzo
said, stretching her hand to get a plate of pizza from Moyo. “Thank you.” She
said to Moyo, and bit into the pizza. “Though a lot of people are aware of their
callings and the potentials they have, but a lot of time, getting past the point of
potentials becomes pretty difficult because of our own unbelief and self-doubt.

Nifemi bit into her pizza. “Hmm. I think the self-doubt and unbelief are due to
the wilderness we have to experience before we get to that place of accomplishing
our calling. I mean, transitioning from the familiar—A.K.A. comfort zone to what
God is calling us into is usually not an easy process.

“Just like leaving Egypt for the Promised Land.” Obehi added.

274
“Yes.” Nifemi nodded. Sometimes, the wilderness experience would make us
crave for Egypt. That doesn’t mean we had it altogether in Egypt. It’s just that
Egypt feels more comfortable than the wilderness—being a slave with food to it
feels like a luxury compared to being free, yet hungry and needy. Even though
our hunger and needs are meant to drive us to God, so He can help and build
character in us.”

“—Characters that will be needed for life in the Promised Land.” Uzo added

“Exactly!” Nifemi acknowledged.

Obehi listened with engrossed attention, looking from one lady to another, whilst
sipping her smoothie.

“We can’t afford to die in our place of transition.” Nifemi continued. “But
the truth is, doubt will keep us buried in the wilderness if we don’t deal
with it. We need to learn to hold on to God’s word and trust Him even when
it hurts on the outside. We need to let Him make us ready for the Promised
Land. God is faithful and able to bring us safely to the Land He’d promised
us—we only need to trust Him every step of the way, have a positive
perspective, even when all we see is negative. It’s going to happen just the
way God had said it, and we are well able to become all He’s called us to be
if we believe and yield to Him—not by power, nor by might, but by God’s
Spirit who lives inside of us.7”

The other ladies clapped as Nifemi concluded her short exhortation.

“Wow, someone is getting spiritually matured by the day.” Moyo said notably,
grinning.

Nifemi chuckled. “Hmm, it comes with spending quality time with God. I’ve found
a new hobby too.”

“Really? What is it?” Moyo asked.

“Watching inspiring contents on YouTube. I didn’t know there were lots of great
contents on YouTube until recently.”

“Talking about YouTube.” Uzo said. “When are you going to start uploading your
own contents?”

“You mean cooking videos?” Nifemi inquired.

275
Uzo nodded.

Nifemi grinned. “Keep your fingers crossed.”

Uzo literally crossed her fingers.

Nifemi let out a loud laugh. “How about keeping those fingers crossed until I run
down to the ocean and back.” She rolled up her jean trousers.

Uzo grinned. “Are you really going into the ocean?”

Nifemi pulled off her sandals and got up. “Watch me do it.”

“How about I come with you for some moral support.” Uzo said, pulling off her
own sandals.

“You never know.” Moyo added, “Your phobia for water might just raise its big,
ugly head again.” She pulled off her sandals. “I’m coming too.”

Uzo was already up.

Nifemi raised her hands in surrender. “Okay ladies, I give up. I was only kidding.”
She was about sitting, but Uzo grabbed her arm.

“Sorry girl, we took you seriously. We are going to rock that ocean together.”

Nifemi gave a playful frown. “No, I’m not going.”

Moyo got up and grabbed Nifemi’s other arm. “Yes, you are going!”

Frightened at the thoughts of the undulating ocean tides, Nifemi tried to take
back her arms from Moyo and Uzo, but they seemed bent on taking her into the
ocean. She looked at them imploringly. “Guys please. You can do without me for
a few minutes, can’t you? Just go without me already.”

Moyo and Uzo made some eye communique and pulled Nifemi.

Nifemi screamed and closed her eyes as she was being pulled towards the ocean.

Still seated on the mat and holding her baby bump, Obehi couldn’t stop laughing
as she heard Nifemi screaming; “There are big sharks in there! Please, I don’t
want to die! I will cook and serve you breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed! Just,
let me go already!”

Onlookers at the beach laughed at Nifemi, so did Moyo and Uzo.

276
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

UZO’S PHONE kept vibrating non-stop. Though it was a Saturday, she was at
work—for a training organized for her department. Her phone vibrated for the
umpteenth time—it didn’t seem like the caller would give up any time soon. She
pulled out the phone from her handbag, and raised a finger to excuse herself as
she stepped out of the training room.

“Hey Obehi. Are you okay?”

“Kind of.”

She frowned. “What do you mean kind of?”

“I’ve been feeling uneasy since you left.”

“Really? Why didn’t you call me immediately?”

“I figured I could manage until you got back, since I have an appointment with
the doctor later today. But I’m not sure I can wait anymore.”

“That bad?”

“Yes sis. I can’t even explain the way I feel right now—I feel like I might pass out
any moment.”

“Oh my God! What are we going to do? The gateman can’t drive. Do you think
you can stay put for another thirty minutes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, just try. I will figure something out and call you back.” Oh my God! What
was she going to do? Bayo was also at work, he was the one who had dropped
her off at her office before heading to his—they were both on the Island. She
dialed Bayo’s number as she paced frantically about the hallway. “Hello!”

“Hey.”

277
“Where are you?”

“At the office. Is everything okay?”

“It’s Obehi?”

Bayo sprang up from his chair and picked up his car keys “Is she in labor
already?”

“I don’t know.” Uzo stopped pacing and held her forehead. “She said she was
feeling uneasy and dizzy. How soon do you think we can get home?”

“I don’t know, I heard there’s a bit of traffic on the Third Mainland Bridge.”

“Oh my God! What are we going to do?”

“Calm down. What about Mr. EMEKA? He lives only ten minutes from the Estate.
Why don’t you call him to go over to the house and drive Obehi to the hospital
in your car?”

“Okay, that seems like a good idea.” Mr. Emeka was Uzo’s part-time driver. She
prayed he would be home as she dialed his number.

Mr. Emeka was having a drinking party all by himself in his living room when
Uzo’s call came in. The fifty-year-old man had been unlucky in a Ponzi scheme
in which he’d invested his life savings—he couldn’t but mourn his loss. He had
to forget how dumb he was at fifty, he ignored the call and drank in more. His
phone rang again, and he picked it up this time. His eyes widened at the sight of
the caller. If it was Uzo, it meant he was about to get lucky again. Uzo was a
giver, and even though she only called for his service on few occasions, every
service rendered and encounter with Uzo always left a huge smile on his face. He
cleared his throat, hurriedly press the green button on his phone and put the
phone to his ear. “Hello ma.”

“Thank God! Mr. Emeka, where are you?”

“I’m home. Good afternoon madam Uzo.”

“I’m sorry. Good afternoon. I need you to go to my house urgently, please. My

pregnant sister is not feeling well, and I need you to drive her to the hospital.”

“Okay madam.”

278
“Please, I need you to be on your way now. She might faint anytime soon. My car
is home. You remember our family hospital, don’t you?”

“I know the hospital.”

“Okay, thank you. I’ll call Azeez right away.”

***

Mr. Emeka got up as Uzo hung up, but he fell back on the couch. He shook his
head and got up again. He went to the bathroom, poured water over his head
and splashed some water on his face. He staggered a bit as he stepped out of the
bathroom. He went to his bedroom and wiped off the water from his face and
head.

He convinced himself he wasn’t drunk and stepped out of his apartment. He tried
to maintain a balanced walking posture as he walked to the bus-stop. Somehow,
everything he saw seemed to be appearing in twos. He rubbed his eyes
intermittently, opened his eyes wider and wider, until they reached their elastic
limit.

He got down from the bus and made his way to the estate. However, the security
men had to check with Bayo or Uzo to ensure they were indeed expecting him.

Bayo answered the phone at the first ring. He was still on his way to Uzo’s office.

“You can go in sir.” the security man said.

Mr. Emeka made his way to the Eniola’s resident—it was just three buildings
from the gate.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Emeka.” Azeez greeted agitatedly as he opened the gate.
He closed the gate in a hurry. “Obehi is in pain, she can’t even stand up on her
own.” He said as he walked hurriedly into the house, with Emeka running to
keep pace with him. “We will need to carry her into the car.”

The two men hurried into Obehi’s room. Her face was wet with sweat; her hands
were firmly fixated to her lower abdomen.

Azeez already had the car keys in his pocket. He picked them up from his
employer’s bedroom as soon as Uzo called him—it was his first time entering any

279
of the bedrooms in the house—he was astonished at the magnificence, only the
issue at hand kept him from being overly awestruck. He reached into his pocket,
pulled out the keys and handed them to Mr. Emeka, before they both pulled up
the sick pregnant teen.

Azeez frowned at Mr. Emeka as he felt the whole weight of Obehi on him.

The two men—or say, one of the two men lifted Obehi into the car.

Azeez rushed back to the gate, and got it opened.

Mr. Emeka took a glance at Obehi who laid flat on her back, panting on the back
seat. He turned on the engine, grabbed the steering wheel really hard, and drove
out. He turned on the car stereo to keep his head clear and active.

Obehi groaned at the back seat, and pleaded with him to turn off the stereo.

Mr. Emeka turned off the radio, and took another glance at Obehi. His eyes wide,
and back on the road, he appeared to be doing just fine.

After a few minutes of driving, he suddenly felt light headed again, seeing things
in twos and threes—including the steering wheel— he wiped his palms over his
face. He seemed confused as to which of the three wheel images he saw was the
real one. He tried grabbing each of the wheel images he saw, but they seemed to
disappear just before his hands reached them. While he still struggled with
getting hold of the wheel, he lost control of the car—the car swerved and hit a
slow-paced moving truck, and all that followed were sounds of metals and
screams.

***

Obehi and Mr. Emeka were rushed to the nearest hospital—just the same
hospital they were previously headed. “Please….save my baby…save my
baby…save my baby.” Obehi begged and cried faintly, as she was being wheeled
into the ICU. She had blood stains all over her body. She went unconscious. She
was immediately placed on life support as she got transferred onto a bed in the
ICU.

280
Another nurse quickly hung a pouch of blood over Obehi’s bed; she pushed a
syringe into her arm and adjusted the settings on the blood transfusion tube.
The blood flowed in fast successions down the tube into Obehi’s body. A doctor
removed the pieces of metals that had been buried into the skin of Obehi’s legs
and dropped them into a pan being held by a nurse, while another doctor
examined Obehi’s head.

“She has intracerebral hemorrhage. Her chance of making it is slim.” The

neurosurgeon said.

A nurse rushed into the ICU. “I just called her guardians. They are on their way.”

“Good. We are getting the baby out right away.”

A nurse cut out Obehi’s dress on the stomach, while the two other nurses ran
around to get the surgical instruments ready.

While a surgery was being done on Obehi’s stomach to get the baby out, another
surgery was being done on her head to stop the brain hemorrhage and her legs
were being bandaged—it was a lot on one person—her face was both blood-
stained and pale.

The head of the medical team didn’t stop praying in his heart as he stopped the
bleeding in Obehi’s head.

***

“No! No! No!” Uzo screamed as she sighted the countenance of the doctors coming
out of the ICU after three long hours of surgery. “Please, tell me Obehi and the
baby are fine.”

One of the doctors shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Uzo fell on the floor. Bayo grabbed her.

“We tried our best, but we were only able to save the baby.” The other doctor
added.

Uzo broke into tears. No. this couldn’t be true. Obehi isn’t dead. She spoke with
her about four hours ago. “Obehiiiiiiii!” She screamed.

The doctors and Bayo pulled Uzo up and took her to one of the doctors’ office.

281
“Obehi, you can’t die. You can’t. You have dreams, remember?” Uzo got up, and
pulled away her arm as Bayo tried to hold her down. “Please.” Her eyes were both
teary and pleading. “I have to do something. Pray, yes, we can pray. Remember?
We can believe God to raise Obehi back to life.”

Bayo pulled Uzo into his arms and held her tightly. He couldn’t keep the tears in
either. He was as broken as his wife. He’d come to love Obehi like a sister. He
wished this was one bad dream. Uzo’s wail tore his heart the more.

The neurosurgeon shook his head sadly as he got up. He patted the couple on
their backs.

Uzo pulled back and stared into her husband’s teary eyes. “What are we going to
tell her family?” She bit her fingers. “What if they accuse us of killing her?”

Bayo sniffed and wiped the tears off Uzo’s face. “All will be well.” That was all he
could manage to say.

“It’s not anyone’s fault.” The doctor said. “It was an accident.”

Another doctor walked into the office. He heaved a sigh.

“How is the man?” The neurosurgeon asked.

“Stable and responsive to treatment. He only had minor injuries on his head and
arm. We also found out he was drunk.”

“What!” The neurosurgeon exclaimed. He looked to Uzo and Bayo. “How could
you have let a drunk man drive your sister?”

“What?” Bayo inquired. The couple didn’t remember Mr. Emeka until that
moment. “Mr. Emeka was drunk?” he looked from the doctors to his wife. Sure,
she couldn’t have known he was drunk, she only spoke with him on the phone.

Uzo looked horrified. It was all her fault. She killed Obehi. If only she didn’t call
Mr. Emeka. If only she had been home early enough to bring Obehi to the hospital.
“I killed her.”

Bayo pulled her close. “No, you didn’t kill her. It wasn’t your fault.”

Uzo wailed even harder. “He didn’t sound drunk when I spoke with him on the
phone. He sounded fine. I didn’t know he was drunk. I didn’t know. How did I

282
miss it? Obehi, I’m sorry. Obehi, please come back. Please, Obehi… Dear God,
please wake her up. She can’t die just yet. She’s only seventeen!

***

Uzo was still dressed in the clothes she had won the previous day. She and Bayo
had passed the night at the hospital. The doctors had to watch the baby through
the night, they needed to ensure she was healthy enough to be taken home.

Bayo had gone to the house to get the baby’s things. He had changed his clothes
before heading back to the hospital with some clothes and food for Uzo. Uzo had
neither changed her clothes nor had she been able to get some food into her
mouth. She and Bayo had stayed awake all night staring at Obehi’s little baby
girl—she looked so much like Obehi. Uzo couldn’t stop shedding tears. The whole
situation still seemed surreal to her—she still hoped to wake up soon to find out
she’d been dreaming.

A pediatrician was attending to the baby again—he checked for vital signs and
gave a satisfactory nod. “She’s good to go home.”

“Thanks so much, doc.” Bayo said, and shook hands with the doctor. “Everyone
has been so helpful. My wife and I are grateful to your team.”

The doctor gave a half smile. “Don’t mention it, Mr. Eniola. I’m sorry for your
loss again.”

Bayo nodded.

The doctor patted Bayo on the shoulder. “You have to be strong for your wife and
the baby. The baby needs all the love and attention she can get. Please, don’t
hesitate to call me if anything seems odd with the baby.”

“Thanks again.” Bayo said as he shook hands with the doctor one more time.

Uzo sat on the hospital bed, her hands buried between her thighs, she couldn’t
utter a word. All she did was stare blankly at the baby.

283
The doctor patted Uzo and instructed the nurse to give the couple all the help
they might require.

Bayo went back to his wife. He kissed her on the forehead. “We’ve been
discharged.” He spoke softly. “Are you ready to go home?”

Uzo looked up at her husband. She opened her mouth and stared at him for
some moments. “Are we going with Obehi?” She struggled to make out the words.

Bayo sat beside her and pulled her close. “Sweetheart, we can’t go with Obehi.
She’s in the mortuary.”

Uzo pulled away. “No, she’s not. Why would she be there?”

Bayo swallowed hard and tried to pull her closer to him, but she resisted
vehemently. “Babe please. Obehi has gone home to be with the Lord.” Tears rolled
down Bayo’s cheeks. “We can’t afford to be weak, we need to be strong for the
baby.”

Uzo moved closer to her husband. She reached out and cleaned the tears from
his face. “I’m sorry.”

Bayo kissed her hand and hugged her. They held each other tightly. Tears rushed
down Uzo’s eyes again, falling on Bayo’s back—it felt like someone had just
turned on the tap on Bayo’s back. He was fighting back tears himself. He had to
be strong for his family—his wife, his baby. Holy Spirit, please help us all to bear
this loss, help me to be strong for my family, help us to be strong for the baby. He
caressed his wife on the back and whispered some comforting prayers into her
ears.

It took a lot of self-control to keep the nurse from shedding tears as she stared
at the couple. She thought she was used to seeing people die until now.

284
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

AZEEZ, THE gateman couldn’t stop shaking his head as his bosses pulled into
the compound with relatives and friends in three cars.

The air seemed to exude grief, the heavy rainfall earlier that day made the
journey to and from the cemetery both arduous and wet. Obehi had been laid to
rest. The reality of her death dawned on everyone the moment her casket was
dropped into the grave and the earth was hauled over her.

Azeez locked up the gate as the third car pulled into the compound.

Bayo got down from his car and helped his wife down. Uzo still looked profoundly
disorientated. She still had questions in her heart and eyes—why would Obehi
go so soon? Yes, she knew she’d gone to be with the Lord—but she didn’t think
it was right for her to go so soon. Why didn’t God do something to prevent the
accident or the death?

Obehi’s mom and sister got down from the backseat of Bayo’s car. The two held
each other tightly as they followed the couple into the portico. Bayo’s dad, Uzo’s
parents, Obehi’s aunt, Paul, Moyo and three members of Bayo’s church walked
right behind them. Everyone looked black and solemn.

“Hi dear.” Nifemi said, putting the baby back into her cot as Uzo walked in.

“Hi.” Uzo responded, walking over to the baby’s cot. “Thanks for watching the
baby.”

“It was my pleasure. Baby IVIE is a sweetheart. She gave me no trouble at all.
All she did was ate, pooed and slept.” Nifemi said with a smile.

Uzo wished she could return her friend’s smile, but somehow, she seemed to
have forgotten how to smile. She held Ivie’s tiny arm delicately in hers. “Indeed,
she’s a sweetheart, and a precious little angel too. She has Obehi’s eyes and

285
nose.” She quickly wiped away a stream of tear on her face before it dropped on
the baby.

Nifemi pulled her friend into an embrace. “I’m so sorry.” She could feel a lump
in her own throat. The thought of Obehi passing on still beat her. Though, she’d
only spent a few times with the teenager, she’d come to love and adore her. She
remembered the last time she saw her—just a few days before her death—Uzo
had brought Obehi over to her restaurant, and she’d given them a tour of the
restaurant—she could still see the excitement and hope on Obehi’s face as she
gushed on her and talked about how she was looking forward to her internship.
Nifemi sniffed. If she really wanted to comfort her friend, she had to be in control
of her own emotions.

Uzo’s mom walked into the room with a tray of food. She set the tray on the table.

Still in a tight embrace with her friend, Uzo’s eyes followed her mom, as a flash
of the first time she had brought breakfast for Obehi and set it on that same
table seized her mind. She could still remember the excitement and hope on her
face. More tears gushed down Uzo’s eyes as her mom spun and held her eyes.

Uzo’s mom moved closer to the two ladies and put her arms around them. “Obehi
is fine where she is. She’s gone to be with the Lord—it’s the destination for all of
us. It’s a good place. Obehi is happy, and she wants you to be happy too.” She
sighs. “Obehi wants you to be strong for the baby.”

Uzo glanced at Baby Ivie. She was awake—her eyes were glittering and
endearing. Uzo prayed silently for the strength and wisdom to raise this precious
little one.

“You need to eat now.” Uzo’s mom spoke out, interrupting Uzo’s thoughts and
disentangling from the trio embrace. “You’ve barely had any real food in the last
one week.”

“I’ll take cereals.”

Uzo’s mom shook her head. “No, you won’t. Your friend made your favorite—
jollof rice and coleslaw, with some crusty fried chicken.”

Uzo half-smiled as she wiped a handkerchief over her face. “As yummy as that
sounds, I have no appetite for it. I hope all the guests have been served though?”

Uzo’s mom nodded. “Moyo is helping to serve the brethren from the church.

286
Uzo walked to the baby’s crib and lifted Ivie.

Nifemi walked to the bed and sat beside her friend. “You need to eat something.
Please.”

Uzo sighed. “I don’t just feel like it. I promise to eat as soon as I get my appetite
back.” Her stomach made a really loud noise as if to oppose her decision
vehemently.

The three women laughed.

“You see! Your appetite just announced itself.” Nifemi said amid laughter.

Uzo couldn’t help but laugh at how her stomach had betrayed her.

Even baby Ivie had a smile on her face for the first time. It was Nifemi who first
sighted the smile. She quickly called the attention of the other women to it.

“Oh my!” Uzo exclaimed, giving Ivie a kiss on the forehead and returning her
smile. “You look even more beautiful when you smile.”

Ivie smile got even broader.

Uzo kissed her again. “I love you so much, Ivie. I promise to take really good care
of you.”

Nifemi quickly caught a cord of tear that was about dripping down her own
cheek. She smiled at the sight of the Mother-Child’s love that was exuding from
Uzo and Ivie.

The aura in the house seemed to have changed for the first time since Obehi’s
death. “Thank God for Ivie.” Uzo said, still smiling as Ivie opened her mouth and
stuck out her tongue. “I think she’s hungry.”

The door opened as Nifemi got up to get the baby’s milk. It was Obehi’s saucy
Aunt.

“Hmm.” Obehi’s Aunt, ADESUWA remarked as she took in the richness of what
used to be Obehi’s bedroom. “I could hear your laughter from the living room. I
see you are happy now.”

Uzo’s mom placed her hands on her hips as she watched the rather rude woman.
She had to try really hard to keep her anger from finding expression.

Aunty Adesuwa walked the length of the room eyeing everything and everyone.

287
“Thank you.” Uzo said to Nifemi as she collected the baby’s feeding bottle.

Nifemi sat beside Uzo and watched Ivie admirably as she took in her milk
pleasantly.

Obviously despising the fact that she was now being snubbed, as even Obehi’s
mom had taken her seat on the sofa and looked smitten and completely
overwhelmed at the sight of sweet little Ivie…Aunty Adesuwa braced herself up.
“So, was this your motive all along? To kill Obehi and take her baby as yours? I
should have known. Clearly, you’ve offered your unborn children as an exchange
for money. You are truly a barren woman…” She waited for a response but didn’t
seem to be getting any. “Now you pretend to be rescuing homeless pregnant
teenagers, so you can kill them and take their babies as yours. How many more
teenagers do you plan to adopt and murder?”

“You know what I think—” Uzo’s mom said but was quickly interrupted by her
daughter.

“Mom please. She’s not worth it.

Obehi’s mother walked in, in time to get her crazy sister out of the room.
“Adesuwa, you have no right and reason to insult this family. How many times
am I going to tell you that? If you were so good a person, you wouldn’t throw
your niece out in the dark. This family has been nothing short of good to us. If
anything, I’m glad Obehi was found and adopted by this wonderful people.
Because of them, my daughter got to know the Lord, and she also got to live the
kind of life she’d always dreamed of. Though short, Obehi fulfilled her purpose.”
The woman smiled. “She used to tell me her purpose in life was to ensure her
family lived a comfortable life, and she fulfilled that. God used her to bring
comfort into our lives, God used my daughter to bring Jesus into our lives. She’s
in the best place anyone can be now, and I have decided not to mourn her any
longer. I will see my daughter again, and it would be a joyful reunion.

Adesuwa shook her head and rolled her eyes at her sister in disgust before
storming out of the bedroom.

“I’m so sorry about my sister’s troubles.”

Uzo’s mom got up and gave Obehi’s mother a hug. “You are a very strong woman,
and a really good woman too.

288
Obehi’s mom smiled. “I wish I could take the credit. It isn’t me—it’s the power of
the Holy Spirit at work on the inside of me. He’s the source of this strength and
joy in me. I’m so thankful to God, and to your family—you all have been good to
my family.

Uzo’s mom patted the woman.

Uzo smiled as Obehi’s mom strode towards the bed. She wished she could boast
of the same strength and joy the woman had. She felt weak to her bones, and
joy seemed to have eluded her. Maybe she hadn’t allowed the Holy Spirit to work
in her. Getting past the pain of losing Obehi felt beyond reach.

***

Uzo stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her and water dripping
down her head. For the last two weeks, she’d been pouring water on her head
every chance she got—water seemed to be the only medicine for the incessant
head-ache that afflicted her. However, the water seemed to calm the nerves in
her head for only a few hours, it didn’t take a long time for her head to start
banging again. Maybe the kind of water she really needed to pour over her head
was the word of God—she had not been able to open herself up to the word of
God since Obehi’s death. Was she mad at God?

It had been two weeks since Obehi’s passing, and a week since the funeral. Her
dad and father-in-law had gone back to Ibadan. Her mom and Obehi’s mom and
sister were still around, getting along so well like some alienated family that had
just found each other. And baby Ivie had been as sweet as ever—her presence
had kept Uzo from completely losing it.

Uzo had been passing the nights in Obehi’s room since her death—the room was
still filled with Obehi’s fragrance, and sometimes, Uzo feels the need to psyche
herself into believing Obehi was still around.

Uzo took a look at the baby—she looked so peaceful and even cuter while
sleeping. Uzo smiled and walked over to the wardrobe. She slipped her body into
a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, pressed the towel over her hair—though still wet,
the hair was no longer dripping water over her sweatshirt. She needed some
amount of wetness on her head to keep her sanity. She wiped the towel over her
face and walked back to the bathroom. She hung the towel over the bathroom

289
rack, and took one more look at herself in the mirror—her face was a mess and
she knew it, except looking beautiful was the last thing on her mind at the
moment. She sighed and went back to the bedroom. She laid on the bed and
amused herself with the baby’s presence.

Her mobile phone vibrated over the bed’s headboard, but she ignored it.
Nonetheless, the caller seemed to be bent on speaking with her, as the phone
kept on vibrating. She reached out for it at the third ring. She smiled as she
realized who the caller was. “Hi babe.”

“Hi Sweet.” Bayo responded. “Were you attending to the baby?”

Uzo chuckled. “More like being awed by her presence.”

“Hmm, I know. She’s such a sweetheart.”

Uzo didn’t take her eyes off Ivie the whole time. She smiled. “That she is.”

“So, how are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hmmn.”

Bayo sighed. “So, have you had breakfast now?”

“Yes, I had pap.”

“At what time?”

“At about 11am.”

“Okay, it’s almost 2pm. What would you be having for lunch?”

“Mom and Obehi’s mom are making pounded yam. I will see if I can manage to
get some of it down my throat.”

“Promise me you would at least try.”

Uzo sighed. “I promise.”

“Thanks, my love. Give a kiss to Ivie for me.”

“I will.”

290
“I love you, and I love Ivie. By God’s grace, I will always be there for you two, and
put your needs before mine.”

“Thanks so much.” Uzo swiped away a tear from her face and cleared away the
lump in her throat. “I love you.”

“Thank you, my love. I will call again in two hours. Don’t forget to eat some of
those pounded yam. You don’t want to miss mom’s lip-smacking vegetable soup,
and you also need to eat something, so you can be strong for Ivie and me.”

Uzo smiled. “Thanks love.” She placed the phone on the bed, got up and walked
over to Ivie’s crib. She lifted her up gently and gave her some kisses.

Obehi’s sister, IMADE walked into the room. She smiled as she saw Uzo kissing
Ivie and putting her back gently onto the crib. “Ivie is indeed the favored one.”

Uzo chuckled and spun. “I am the favored one. She’s such an amazing and
perfect gift from God.”

Imade stared admirably at sleeping Ivie. “I know, right? Her name suits her so
well. My mom had always kept that name in mind for her first grand daughter.”

Uzo smiled and walked back to the bed.

“Not so fast!” Imade exclaimed as Uzo was about sitting. “I’ve been instructed to
bring you over to the dinning.”

Uzo smiled. “Seriously? Who said that?”

“The two women who had just adopted each other.”

Uzo chuckled.

Imade chuckled too. “Seriously. You need to see them talk and cook—one would
think they were biological sisters.”

Uzo half-smiled. “Reminds me of my relationship with Obehi.” She sat on the

bed.

Imade sighed and walked over to the bed. She sat beside Uzo. “I can literally
imagine how close you were, and how much love you showed her. She always
told me whenever she called.” She smiled. “I must confess; I was jealous of her
at some point.”

291
Uzo smiled. “You know, there was a time she felt guilt-ridden of the sudden
transition in her life—in her own words, she felt like a selfish brat because she
was enjoying the luxury of life, and her family wasn’t.”

Imade smiled. “I’m not surprised she felt that way. Obehi had always been like
that, even when we were kids—she always put the family’s needs before hers.
Her dream to ensure our family gets comfortable is now a reality…You know;
most likely you wouldn’t have been drawn to Obehi if she wasn’t pregnant. It’s
amazing how God makes all things work together for the good of those that love
Him. Obehi had always been a church girl, and I was shocked to my marrows
when I heard she was pregnant. Then, she met you, and that changed her
orientation of what it meant to be a Christian. I mean, she told me how she was
now in a love relationship with God, and how I needed to experience intimacy
with God. What Obehi told me during our phone conversations became clearer
to me since reading her journals. Her relationship with God seemed to have
gotten pretty exciting and more intimate during the last three months of how life.
Sister Uzo, you need to go through those two journals yourself—I think it will
help you heal from the pain and void that her passing had left in your heart. I
have been reading them to my mom, and she’s not been able to recover from how
real, merciful and loving God is. I’ve not been able to recover from those facts
myself. And all I want to do henceforth is to keep pressing into God, I want to lay
hold of all for which Christ had laid hold of me.1” She chuckled. “At the end of
each study, Obehi’s conclusion was ‘there is much more.’”

Uzo smiled at the thoughtfulness of the teenager. “Imade, remind me again, how
old are you?”

Imade smiled. “Fifteen.”

“Hmm. Your wisdom far transcends your age.”

“Well, I can’t take credit for it. I used to be a very bitter and envious girl—always
mad at everyone who seemed to have it altogether. But everything changed since
I started reading my sister’s journals a week ago.” She grinned. “You know; I
have plans to make her journals into a book in the future. I pray God makes it a
reality. Everyone, especially teenagers need to know they can be secure and
confident in God’s love for them. This will help them to stop seeking approval
from others, and ultimately they would depend on God to help them manifest
both their uniqueness and gifts to the glory of God.”

292
Uzo grinned broadly—her grin was so genuine Imade thought it her first genuine
grin since the last two weeks.

Come here.” Uzo said with opened arms.

293
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

NIFEMI SIGHED for the umpteenth time. Her kitchen staff which included her
former co-contestant from Master Chef—Rose, glared at her. The kitchen crew
had been working nonstop for the past three hours—they were making the day’s
lunch special—Braised stuffed lamb breast served with mushroom pasta.
Everyone was totally engrossed in the meal prep, only the recurrent sighs of
Nifemi distracted them every now and then.

Two of the kitchen crew carried the pans of braised stuffed lamb breast into the
oven. Nifemi heaved another sigh as she wiped a napkin over her hands.

Rose looked briefly at her. “What’s up with you?” She tossed some boiled
spaghetti into a portion of the mushroom sauce.

Nifemi sighed again.

“Okay girlfriend, I think you should take a break.”

Nifemi shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”

Rose frowned. “No, it’s not fine…it’s obvious you are not fine. What is bothering
you? We’ve literally lost count of your sighs. What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

The other chefs busied themselves in a way that suggested they weren’t listening
to the discussion between Nifemi and Rose. Though they had been wondering
why their Boss had been sighing endlessly since she came into the kitchen to
join in the lunch prep, they’d acted like it wasn’t their business. Unlike Rose,
they were only employees, not the Boss’s friend. Even though Nifemi had been
very warm to them all, they seemed to always be careful not to overstep their
bounds, especially because they were all older than her—they were only being
careful not to send any message of disregards toward her.

294
Rose signaled to the another chef to put in the next batch of spaghetti in the
mushroom sauce. She wiped her hand over a napkin and untied her apron. Let’s
take a few minutes off.

Nifemi frowned. “Can we afford that luxury right now?”

Rose smiled. “Yes Boss. A few minutes away from the kitchen would neither hurt
the spaghetti nor the stuffed lamb.”

Nifemi smiled and took off her apron.

Rose led the way to Nifemi’s office and folded her arms across her chest as Nifemi
went over to her seat. Rose remained standing, her eyes followed Nifemi as she
settled in her seat.

Nifemi shook her head amusingly. “So, what now? You need a permission to sit?”

Rose shrugged and took one of the two seats across Nifemi. “So, what has been
bothering you?”

She heaved another sigh.

Rose frowned.

“Okay, I had an argument with my boyfriend, and I sort of yelled at him.” She
sighed. “He hasn’t talked to me since then.”

Rose smiled for a jiffy. “When did you guys have this argument?”

“Last night.”

“Hmm. Was that your first argument?”

“Well, not really. And it wasn’t really an argument. He corrected something that
I said, but that didn’t go well with me, and my reaction was awful. I yelled at
him. I almost told him he isn’t my daddy…Sadly that wasn’t my first time of
putting forth such reaction because he corrected me.”

“I see. Have you tried to call him?”

“I have called and texted him several times, but not one response from him.”
Nifemi bit her lip. “It’s unlike him, and I don’t know what to think.”

“Well, from the little I’ve seen and heard, Dara loves you. I mean, you are one of
those lucky women to have a man be head over heels in love with her.”

295
Nifemi shook her head. “Not lucky but favored. Only God could have given Dara
to me, he’s different from those men I’d gotten for myself in the past. No man
had ever loved me the way he does.”

“So, why did you yell at him?”

Nifemi rolled her eyes. “Well, because I didn’t like the way he corrected me.”

Rose gave her a sarcastic nod. “Hmm. More like you don’t like being corrected!”

Nifemi raised her eyebrows. “What was that?”

“It’s the truth, and you need to see your expression right now. You are a very
good person, but whenever you are corrected, all of your nerves seem to rise in
repulsion.”

Nifemi massaged her temples and placed her elbows on the table.

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.” Rose shrugged. “I’m sure Dara would come
around. But this is one weakness you need to deal with right away. You sure
don’t know everything. No one does. So, it’s okay to get corrected sometimes.
Corrections don’t hurt, they make you grow. Only pride will make you hurt at
correction.” She got up. “I’d better go back to the kitchen. Take your time, don’t
worry, I will take care of things.”

Unable to utter a word, Nifemi’s eyes followed Rose as she walked out of her
office. “Wow!” She exclaimed as the door closed. She couldn’t deny the fact that
Rose’s words had hurt her. But why? It hurt her more that Rose who wasn’t even
a Christian had identified in her a weakness that she had refused to work on.
She was well aware of the presence of that weakness in her life. Uzo had
mentioned it, Moyo hadn’t ceased to point it out, and Dara had lovingly
counseled her to deal with it. She had neglected it, and now, it was obvious Dara
was getting put off by it. She picked up her phone and sent Dara another
WhatsApp message—I’m deeply sorry, Dara. Please speak to me already. Your
silence is filling my head with all sorts. She hit the send button, and kept staring
at the phone, hoping to see the sign that the message had been read. It didn’t
take long before the message was read. However, there was no reply even after
ten minutes of waiting. She dropped the phone in surrender and prayed silently
for grace to take correction with humility. She and Dara were having a swell
phone time the night before until Dara made a joke about something she had
done, and then she responded by saying he was wicked. That wasn’t the first

296
time she would say that to him, but suddenly he said to her, “you shouldn’t use
such word on me again.” She had asked him why, and he had responded by
saying that she couldn’t afford to say careless things as a believer, because her
words had the ability to create and bring things to reality, and if she didn’t want
him to be wicked, she shouldn’t call him wicked. She had reminded him that it
was all a joke, and he shouldn’t make such a big deal of it. “Why joke with such
words. Call out what you want to see—joke or not.” Dara had said. At that point,
Nifemi got irritated and told him all the lecture wasn’t called for, and if he truly
wanted to correct her, there were better ways to do it, not making her feel she
had committed a grievous sin by joking with the word—wicked. Moreover, she
had said the same word to Felix, and even her former colleague—Kelvin, and
they only laughed about it. Why then was he making an issue out of a simple
joke. Dara was quite for a while, and then he said. “My Love, should I always be
scared of correcting you? I understand that you used the word on me in
ignorance, but this reaction of yours to correction is sure not in ignorance, and
it’s giving me great concern.” Those words seemed to have gotten on her last
nerve—she told him his words were insulting, and said, “that’s it! I’m ending this
call now!” He had called back immediately; he was one to resolve issues as soon
as they popped out. But she didn’t seem to be ready for a resolution. Instead she
asked him if her reaction to correction was enough to make him review their
relationship, and his response had shattered her—he said yes. “Does that mean
I can’t make mistakes?” she had asked. “I’m not saying you can’t make
mistakes,” he’d said, “I make mistakes too. It’s how you react when corrected
that makes the difference.” She kept arguing and refused to be corrected. “This
is one argument you don’t let me win. It’s obvious this discussion isn’t going
anywhere conclusive. Let’s talk about this later.” Just what was his own
definition of later? It’d been ten hours and he still wasn’t ready to talk.

***

It was a long busy day at work. The client’s base at ‘Charisa’s Diner & Lounge’
was gradually increasing. More customers were patronizing the restaurant, and
even more prospects were downloading their app and visiting their website.
Nifemi shared healthy and easy-to-cook recipes on the restaurant’s app and
website every Saturday—it was Dara’s idea to both teach people healthy meals
and drive traffic to the site; and the idea was working so well, as they were indeed

297
getting traffic on their site, and the feedback from the visitors had been really
kind and encouraging. The visitors seemed really excited at the fact that healthy
meals were attainable with little funds and skills. Nifemi continued to research
on foods—vegetables and fruits especially. She also shared nutritional
importance and fascinating recipes of some seemingly underutilized vegies and
fruits. The restaurant had only been in existence for eight months, but it was
getting so much publicity already, even without having to pay for ads. Apart from
the official website, the restaurant was being advertised on Wendy’s and the
Nigerian Master Chef’s websites. The customers seemed to be doing lots of word-
of-mouth advertising too.

Though busy with his study and internship at a technology firm, Dara made time
to create and manage the restaurant’s website and app. They were both user
friendly and expounding.

Nifemi smiled as she wiped her wet body with a towel. She slid into a short and
night shirt. Dara was her soulmate; she knew that for sure. Was she taking him
for granted? She hadn’t intended to do that. But, was this really about Dara?
She sat on the bed. Her legs folded over the bed, she picked up her phone and
typed on google search—‘what does the Bible says about correction.’ She opened
one page after another, reading articles on correction. A particular scripture got
at her—piercing deeply into her soul and spirit—

Proverbs 12:1; Whoever loves discipline loves to learn, but whoever hates
correction is a dumb animal.

What?! A dumb animal! The verse was in God’s Word Translation. Some other
translations used ‘stupid’ and ‘foolish’ instead of dumb animal. It was bad
enough to liken a human being to an animal, and even worse was to be referred
to as a dumb animal.

She went through some other scriptures;

Proverbs 19:20; Listen to advice and accept correction, and in the end you
will be wise.

Proverbs 19:25b; Correct those with understanding, and they will gain
knowledge.

Proverbs 19:27; Don't stop listening to correction, my child, or you will

forget what you have already learned.

298
Proverbs 19:28; People who make fun of wisdom will be punished, and the
backs of foolish people will be beaten.

She had never thought of herself as stupid or foolish. But apparently, her refusal
to receive correction was the same as acting stupid, foolish and like a dumb
animal. Those attributes weren’t part of the redemption package, so why was she
still keeping them. Only the devil would want her to remain stupid and foolish.
The bible had said the backs of foolish people will be beaten.1 Anyone whose
back is beaten would most likely have a bent back and consequently be unable
to see into the future—such person might even become hopeless and end up on
the ground—those were the plans of the devil, not God’s. The devil no longer had
an entry into her life—why was she making one for him by refusing to be
corrected, thus rejecting wisdom. Only pride would make one refuse
correction.2 A humble person is the one who truly has understanding, for such
person continues to listen to correction, thus, increasing in knowledge.

Typical of Nifemi to get emotional—by now she already had tears on her face.
She repented of her pride and foolishness. They weren’t hers, they were the
devil’s. She confessed the words of God—the attributes that were truly hers—“I
am humble; I listen to correction and thus gain knowledge; I am quick to
listen; I am slow to speak; I love correction; I accept correction; I am wise.”
She wrote those confessions on a sticky note and pasted it on the wall. She read
them several times over. Her phone rang while she was still muttering the
confessions, but she ignored it. She kept muttering the words—filling her mind
with them. She was a wise woman in Christ—this was her identity, and it had to
be her reality. She wasn’t going to let the devil make a fool of her no more. The
phone rang again as she gave thanks to God for making her humble and wise in
Christ. Praise God! She had the mind of Christ.

Nifemi chuckled at the sight of the caller’s name. “My Love, I’m deeply sorry.”
She quickly said.

Dara chuckled. “I know you’re sorry, My Love.”

“I’ve been praying and confessing who I am in Christ.”

“Hmm. Tell me about it.”

“Dara, I am humble; I love correction; I am wise; I am quick to listen; I am slow

to speak; I accept correction and thus grow in knowledge.”

299
“I love you.” Dara said, almost in a whisper

She smiled. “Really?”

Dara feigned tremor. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I almost thought I’d lost you.”

Dara chuckled. “Well, my dear, only death can take me away from you, and by
God’s grace, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. I love you.”

“And I love you too.”

He smiled. “Hmm, I know. And I’m grateful to God for giving you to me. You are
gift from God to me, my Love, and I intend to treasure you every day of my life.”

Nifemi had a broad smile on her face. “Wow! I’m so favored. Indeed, you are God’s
gift to me, Dee.”

“Hmm, Dee! That’s a new one.”

“Yes, do you like it?”

“I like whatever you call me, my Sweet.”

She chuckled. “Hmm, Sweet! That’s certainly a new one too, and I like it already.”

“I’m glad you do, my Sweet.”

“Wow! Your love is so sweet. I’m favored.”

Dara chuckled. “Your love is even sweeter, my Sweet.”

“I hate it when we disagree.” Nifemi said, with a tone of remorse.

Dara sighed. “I know. I don’t like it either…”

“So, why didn’t you want to talk to me all the while?”

Dara sighed. “It wasn’t easy on me, but I needed to give you some space—I
wanted the Holy Spirit to correct you.”

“Hmm. He did. I was foolish to have rejected correction—more so, making it a

pattern. But now, I’ve realized who I truly am—I am a wise woman; I love and
accept corrections.”

“Yes my Sweet, you are a wise woman, and I love you.”

300
She inhaled softly. “I love you more.”

Dara inhaled softly too. “I love you most…You know what I can’t imagine?”

“Tell me, my Love.”

“I can’t imagine not loving you.” His voice was both calm and soothing.

Nifemi’s heart was racing by now—pouncing really hard against her chest,
making her crave for this man who loved her. “Thank you for loving me.” Her
voice was filled with so much emotion.

“Thank you for loving me too.” Dara replied, almost in a whisper.

She smiled. “Thank you for loving me first, thank you for washing me and making
me better with your words.”

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine not loving you. I want to do life with you. I want to
serve God with you. I want to fulfil purpose with you. I want to grow old with
you…I love you.”

“I love you.” She imagined seeing him.

Dara sighed. “I wish you were here by my side.” He said, like he’d heard her
thoughts.

She sighed. “Me too.”

Dara smiled. “I will wait. We will wait.”

“Yes, we will.” Nifemi affirmed as she spun on her bed.

Some moments of silence settled in between them.

Dara cleared his throat. “Okay babe, let’s not get mushy. Tell me what’s been up
at the restaurant.”

Nifemi grinned. “You sounded like you’ve missed out on so much.”

“Haven’t I? I mean it’s been like ages since the last time I got an update.”

She giggled. “You mean ages like last night.”

He laughed. “What did second Peter 3:8 say?”

“But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a
thousand years—”

301
“Exactly my dearest Sweet, a day is like a thousand years.”

She laughed…

“I love you…so much.” Dara said with a copious stretch of passion in his tone.
“I really do.”

Nifemi swallowed. “I love you.”

***

Uzo stood by the bathroom doorway and watched with pronounced glee as Bayo
changed Ivie’s diaper on her changing table.

Uzo didn’t seem to be the only one amused, seeing Ivie herself had a huge,
burden-lifting smile plated over her face. Ivie chuckled as Bayo gave her a little
tickle on her side. Her eyes seemed to be calling for more tickles. Bayo gave her
a kiss on the forehead as he finished strapping the diaper around her. He lifted
her up, and she chuckled the more. He grinned. “Aren’t you the liveliest person
I’ve met?” he kissed her on both cheeks. “You, my baby, are one amazing bundle
of joy, and I love you with all my heart.” He removed the cloth diaper that he’d
used to protect the baby’s bottom while changing, he dropped it inside the
laundry basket and turned to leave the bathroom. He smiled broadly as he
sighted his wife. “Look who’s been prying on us.” He said to Ivie, winking at her.
“Mommy seems to have found a new hobby. This is the third time in a row that
she’s been caught prying on Ivie and daddy.”

Uzo chuckled. “Forgive me, Ivie and daddy seemed to be fun to watch—clearly
irresistible.”

Bayo smiled. “Aww, mommy is so kind with words.”

Ivie chuckled like she understood what was being said.

The family of three walked back to the bedroom.

“How was your nap?” Bayo asked Uzo as he dropped Ivie into her crib.

“Refreshing!” She exclaimed with a grin.

302
Bayo spun. “Hmm…I like that.” He moved closer to the bed and kissed her lips.
“What do you say about having lunch in bed?”

“Hmm. Sounds like a brilliant idea.” She pulled him closer for another kiss.

Bayo obliged and seemed to be having a good time.

Uzo chuckled and pulled back. “The food please.”

Bayo shot her a playful glare. “Are we still hungry?”

Uzo nodded.

He pulled closer, giving her a seductive wink.

Grinning, Uzo gave him a soft push. “I’m hungry for food.”

He let out a sigh. “Okay…if you say so.”

Uzo nodded.

“I love you.” Bayo mouthed before walking to the door.

Uzo smiled as Bayo finally left the room.

She stood up and went over to the crib. Ivie was sleeping already. She was only
six months old, yet her presence seemed to lighten up every room she was carried
into. Even the nurses and doctors at the family hospital were very fond of her—
indeed she had the kind of smile that would make anyone forget their troubles.
Uzo had God to thank for the joyful child Ivie was gradually becoming. Bayo
hadn’t ceased to declare the words of God over her life since the moment he set
his eyes on her at the hospital. And since she’d been able to come to terms with
the realness of Obehi’s passing, she’d also joined in declaring God’s word over
Ivie’s life. Obehi had set the pace for that powerful routine—it was something
she’d learnt to do in her third trimester. Uzo found out from reading Obehi’s
journal that she had all the names of the people she loved in some pages of her
journal with a list of God’s promises clearly written out below each person’s
name. she had a sticky note before the beginning of the pages that says; ‘Declare
these promises every morning and night.’ No wonder Ivie had come out of her
womb bursting with so much energy and joy. And even now, her energy and joy
seemed to be increasing by the day. Indeed, the presence of the Lord produces
the fullness of joy, and this joy that comes from the Lord is our strength.3
“Ivie.” She mouthed the name. The name was given to her by her maternal

303
grandmother—Obehi’s mum—she couldn’t have chosen a better name, the child
Ivie was indeed a precious, royal and priceless jewel.

Bayo couldn’t help but giggle as he entered the bedroom and saw the
encompassing beam on his wife’s face while she stared at their child.

Uzo spun. Her arms folded against her chest, she shot her husband a playful
frown. “How long have you been prying.”

He chuckled as he walked to the table. “Well, you know me, I’m not one to pry.”

“Is that Nifemi’s chicken?!” Uzo questioned in excitement as her husband set the
tray of food on the table and uncovered the plate of crispy, spicy chicken.

Uzo had grabbed one of the chicken thighs before her husband could answer her
question. She crunched a bite of the chicken in delight.

Bayo gave her a knowing nod. “There you have the answer to your question. I
ordered some chicken from Charisa’s while you napped.” The truth is, Nifemi’s
chicken had a unique taste to it—apparently, she had a secret ingredient for her
crispy, spicy chicken—though she’d shared it with Uzo several times, Uzo had
not been able to achieve the same taste and crispiness as Nifemi’s.

Still biting and munching delightfully a chicken thigh, Uzo took her seat before
the plate of chicken. Bayo sat beside her and uncovered the second plate.

Eyes widened, Uzo picked up a spoon and scooped some rice into her mouth.
“Oh, my yumminess! Thanks for making your signature jollof rice.” She dumped
the naked bone of chicken on the tray and picked a piece of chicken breast. If a
Master Chef contest solely on jollof rice were organized between her husband
and her, he would definitely beat her ten times over—he was that good when it
came to cooking jollof rice, but of course he couldn’t beat Nifemi to it. Chicken
in one hand, and a spoon of rice in the other, she took turns in devouring the
meals, while her husband gazed at her in pleasure.

Uzo swallowed. “So, I was wondering, between eating and watching me eat, which
one would give you more pleasure.”

He smiled. “Well, right now, I seem to be getting so much pleasure from watching
you eat. It’s not every day you get this excited at the sight of food.”

304
“Right. And any other person who sees me right now would think I’ve been
starved for days.” She said and took another bite of chicken.

“Who cares.”

She scooped another spoon of rice. “I clearly don’t… Aren’t you scared I might
finish the food?”

Bayo grinned. “You can’t finish the food—your marginal utility will soon start to
diminish. I know you so well my dear wife, your belly will be full in no time.”

Uzo kept on eating. “Ok o, let it be on record that I try to warn you in advance.”

Bayo smiled. “There would be no need for that.”

Indeed, it didn’t take long for her belly to get full. Bayo playfully took the spoon
from her when it became obvious she couldn’t afford another scoop of rice down
her throat.

305
 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“WHEN GOD says give, He actually means take; He is setting you up for
something big”—this was something Nifemi had heard in church about two years
ago, around the same time Dara started teaching her how and why she needed
to excel in giving. Not that she was a greedy person, she gave in church and gave
to people—but only when it was convenient. Convenience? Isn’t that what we all
want? But the truth is, life isn’t always convenient—especially when it comes to
doing the right things. More so, loving someone means you are going to have to
put them first and give yourself up for them even when it isn’t convenient. Jesus
had set the pace for that—He went all the way to the cross and gave Himself; He
took our place in death, so we could live a life of abundance; enjoying the
abundance of every good thing. Dying sure wasn’t convenient, being nailed to
the cross wasn’t easy—but it was worth it; we were worth it; every single human
on earth was worth the death of Christ—and it wasn’t because of any good thing
we did, but because He loves us, His love for us made us worthy of His life and
all that He had. He would never withhold any good thing from us.

It’s ridiculous how we hold back our lives and possessions from God, even
though our lives and everything we have were given to us by Him—just like a
child whose father had gifted some candies, but quickly withdrew the candies-
filled hand when daddy asked for some; soon the child would exhaust the
candies and cry for more. Our willingness to give our lives and everything we
have to God is a proof that we love God and it reveals our spiritual maturity.
More so, it shows that we recognize God as our Source and the ultimate owner
of everything we have—our lives inclusive. And whatever we give to God, He gives
back to us in multiple folds.

Luke 6:38; For if you give, you will get! Your gift will return to you in full
and overflowing measure, pressed down, shaken together to make room
for more, and running over. Whatever measure you use to give—large or
small—will be used to measure what is given back to you.”

306
Nifemi had been practicing this art of giving in every area of her life, and the
result had been mind-blowing and out of this world. Indeed, Dara was right when
he said we can never out-give God. She had decided to make giving more than
an act, for her it had become a lifestyle—it wasn’t an easy thing to do when she
first begun to be consistent with it, but she’d seen too many result to want to
stop. Dara had also said the power of giving and every good thing is in
consistency. Her quiet time with God was no longer a matter of convenience too,
it had become something she couldn’t do without. She gave more than ten
percent of her day to God, and she’d seen Him come through for her—helping
her achieve within hours somethings that would have taken days or weeks; she’d
seen Him make her day full of joy, peace, lots of good stuffs and positive
emotions—even in situations that would normally get her cranky and anxious.
She’d increased her tithe to twenty percent, gave as God impresses upon her
heart and had seen God expand her business in two years—the expansion was
beyond her wildest dreams.

Charisa’s Restaurant and Lounge was gradually becoming a household name,

not because she was a Master Chef winner—it was all God’s hands; it was grace;
God was teaching her that if she was willing and obedient, she would eat the
good of the land—she would be prosperous.1 During one of her quiet times with
God the night before Charisa’s Restaurant & Lounge was a year old, the Holy
Spirit spoke to her heart, it was a very clear question—“Have you thought about
opening a second location for Charisa’s Restaurant & Lounge?” Her
response was a clear NO. She explained to God how the restaurant was only a
year old and it was too early to think of expanding. The Holy Spirit’s response to
her reasons was so clear—“Well, the time to expand is now.” At that point,
she knew better than argue with God. She didn’t try to figure out how the
expansion would happen either. She prayed God’s will be done, gave thanks to
Him and slept like a baby.

The day that followed, Bayo visited the Restaurant, and talked about how
rewarding it would be if there was another location of Charisa’s on the Island.
And that was it. She knew at that point that God wanted her to open another
location of Charisa’s on Lagos Island.

Nifemi discussed the new location idea with Dara, and he suggested they put
together a Bankable Business Proposal. The twosome made some research and
worked on the business proposal. Nifemi also sought the advice of Wendy, and

307
she was very impressed with her and offered her lots of priceless counsel. The
business proposal was ready within a month. The proposal clearly stated the
following: she didn’t want a loan, but a shareholder of the proposed new
restaurant location; the restaurant name would remain Charisa’s Restaurant
& Lounge and she would be both Managing Director and CEO of the business.
She submitted the proposal at two banks, and she was contacted by one of the
banks after six months. They wanted a fifty percent share of the business. She
was tempted to take it, but the Holy Spirit said NO. It took another four months
for the second bank to call her for a meeting, and after looking at the history and
bank statement of the existing business, they were more than interested in doing
business with her. Also, the negotiation was amazing—nothing short of a
miracle—they agreed to buy thirty percent share of the business with a whooping
fifty million naira. It was an amazing offer, and Nifemi almost couldn’t believe
her ears.

Every other thing that followed was one miracle after another—from getting a
very spacious and suitable location at Victoria Island for a very generous
amount, to having Uzo take care of the interiors, and employing the best team of
staff.

Uzo had resigned from her banking job after Obehi’s passing to afford her ample
time with Ivie. She had begun an exciting career as an Interior Designer. She
had great deal of passion for the job, and it allowed her to be in control of her
time. Decorating Nifemi’s new restaurant was her third contract and the biggest
so far. She charged three million naira for the job for friendship sake. Any other
designer would have charged four million naira or more. Nifemi had tried to
remind her of the cliché about separating business from friendship—though she
was more than grateful for the discount.

Setting up the new location within one month was a huge success. The
restaurant had multiple dining rooms, which included private dining rooms. It
was also an upscale restaurant. The interior was elegant—the whole design
including charges cost twenty million naira.

The restaurant opening was celebrated with a food fiesta—delicious menus—

which included both local and international cuisines; drinks, and dips were sold
for discounted prices with free office and home deliveries to customers on the
Island. The order was massive—it kept all the staff on their toes all day. Dara
had created a hashtag on Twitter, and the feedback was amazing.

308
Rose was managing things at the first location of Charisa’s. Nifemi had placed
her on a three-month’ probation as Manager. She was excited about the offer
and had promised to wow Nifemi before three months was over. Her decision to
grow with the business did pay off. Never despise the days of little beginning—
plus you can’t work for a blessed person and not share in the blessing.

Indeed, God was with Nifemi and made all that she did to prosper in her hands.2

***

It’d been a month since the second location of Charisa’s Restaurant & Lounge
went live, and business was going so well, better than anyone could have
imagined. A larger percentage of the customers that partook in the food fiesta at
the opening of the restaurant had become loyal customers. Business meetings
were happening in the private dining rooms, so were wedding anniversaries,
couples’ dates and marriage proposals.

Kelvin had visited the new restaurant location the previous week. Nifemi thought
he was on a courtesy visit. But it turned out that he wanted her to host a
proposal party. Nifemi was so happy for Kelvin and Tosin and she was more than
eager to plan their proposal party. Kelvin had discussed the details of the party
with her—he was expecting about fifteen people apart from the intending couple;
he wanted a sit-down dinner in a private room; the restaurant would take care
of the whole planning—cake and decorations inclusive; he wanted white and red
roses on the tables. Nifemi gave him a discounted price of fifty thousand naira,
but he’d insisted on paying the actual price—he wanted to pay the full amount,
so that nothing goes wrong. Nifemi charged him hundred thousand naira and
he’d immediately transferred the money. “Wow, someone’s really serious about
proposing.” She had commented.

The party was at 5pm. Nifemi had supervised every detail of the prep; giving
directions to the attendants, the vendor in charge of the decorations and the
chefs. Kelvin had also requested a vegan meal for one of his guests. The new
Charisa’s also doubled as a vegan restaurant, they had a long menu of healthy
and luscious vegan meals that could make any carnetarian go vegetarian.

Nifemi didn’t stop imagining planning her own proposal. Of course, she couldn’t
plan her own proposal, she was sure Dara would want to surprise her. She

309
heaved a sigh of relief as the decoration vendor began to pack her things in
readiness to leave.

The whole dining room looked majestic and perfect. She was sure Tosin would
like it, even she was awe-struck. There were four beautifully decorated tables in
the dining room—one table for the intending couple and the remaining three
tables for the guests—each table was well adorned with white linens, wine
glasses, napkins, cutleries and roses. The red and white roses gave the dining
room a feel of romance. Nifemi liked the roses, she admired every color of roses
anyways—she was one of those weird people with no favorite color.

It was 4pm, and Nifemi was a little stressed out by the time the dining room was
ready for the proposal party. She inspected the array of food, went into the
private bathroom to make sure the two toilets were in good shape and had all
the required toiletries. She took one last inspection of the room, satisfied that all
was set, she decided to retire to her office—her legs could use some time off the
ground. Her phone buzzed as she stepped out of the dining room, and walked
down the hallway, it was a message from one of the violists on her contact list—
‘I’m almost at the restaurant ma’am.’ She smiled. Trust FOLA to be well-timed,
she was her favorite violist in Lagos—she was a nineteen-year old beautiful
orphan who made a living by playing classical sounds on her violin. Her story
never ceased to amaze Nifemi, especially her joyful and hopeful disposition
towards life. Nifemi had been thinking of sponsoring her education—but she still
had to discuss it with Dara first.

“What in the world!” Nifemi exclaimed as she entered her office. She sure wasn’t
expecting to see her sister.

“Surprise!” Moyo exclaimed, still seated on Nifemi’s chair. She spun the chair
around. “I hope you don’t mind me getting the feel of a boss in this elegant chair
of yours?”

Nifemi stood by the door and stared at her sister in disbelief. She shook her head
and walked to her desk. “So, to what do we hold this visit, beautiful elder sis?”

Moyo pushed her chin upward with a finger. “Let me think…uhm…how about
we start with some Ham 'n' Cheese Salad Pizza.”

310
Nifemi rested her hand on the table and leaned forward. “Sis, how about you tell
me the real reason you are here. I’m certain you didn’t come all the way for some
pizza. I mean, I could have brought that home with me after work, right?”

Moyo nodded. “Right.”

Nifemi shot her sister a questioning gaze. “So?”

Moyo shrugged.

Nifemi chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you came all the way to the Island without
any cogent reason.”

Moyo warped her mouth. “What about a courtesy visit? Is paying my sister a
courtesy visit not cogent enough?”

Nifemi gave a sarcastic nod. “It sure is. Well, let me go get you the pizza.”

“No, not so fast.” Moyo hurried over to Nifemi’s side. She looked her over and
shook her head. “You look like you could use some freshening up right now.”

Nifemi looked herself over. “Why?”

Moyo eyed her. “Well, your face seems plain, you should get a little make up on.
Some cologne would help too.”

“Whatever.” Nifemi went over to her seat, she pulled out her make-up purse from
the table drawer and unzipped it.

Moyo frowned. “You are not going to do that here, are you?”

Nifemi frowned too. “Why not?”

“It’s an office, remember?”

Nifemi smiled. “Okay Sis, since when did applying make-up in an office become
inappropriate?”

Moyo cleared her throat and then licked her lips. “Well…” She marched towards
her sister, pulled her gently by the hand and grabbed her make-up purse. “Let’s
get your make-up fixed.”

Nifemi tried to pull her hand away, but her sister’s hold got firmer on her hand.
“You know what sis; I think you’ve been acting weird since morning. I remember

311
you literally picked up my outfit for me today, even made me wear this really
cute but too high sandals that are beginning to make my legs hurt.”

“Well, don’t blame a sister for making it her duty to make her little sister—well,
not so little anymore—look gorgeous.”

“Exactly my point! I’m not so little anymore.”

“Okay, my not-so-little sis, I will be sure to remember that going forward.” Moyo
said, as she pulled Nifemi into her office bathroom and locked the door.

Nifemi chuckled. “You are being weird, you know. I might scream for help if you
don’t let me go.”

Moyo smiled. “I’m sure you won’t do that. I know you trust me not to hurt you.”

Nifemi eyed her sister. “Do I?”

“Yes, you do.” Moyo took out a powder and brush from the purse.

“Well, I’m not so sure anymore. You seem to have some things up your sleeve
right now. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you are trying to set me up
on a blind date.”

“Well I’m not. I like Dara too much to let you go as close as dating another man,
not to talk of orchestrating one.”

Nifemi took notice of herself in the mirror for the first time. Her face wasn’t as
plain as her sister sounded. “Right. So, do you mind telling me what this is
about?”

Moyo pinned down Nifemi’s shoulders. “Okay now, stay still, will you?”

Nifemi sighed.

Moyo took out the box of wipes from Nifemi’s purse and pulled out one to wipe
off the make-up from Nifemi’s face.

Nifemi held back Moyo’s hand. “Seriously? You are going to wipe off everything?
Is this even necessary?”

Moyo pulled away Nifemi’s hands. “Trust me on this one, sis. You will thank me
later, I promise.”

312
Nifemi shook her head and let down her hands in submission. “I don’t have a
choice now, do I?”

Moyo shook her head and begun to put her make-up artistry to work. She wiped
off the make-up on Nifemi’s face with a wipe, fan her face to dryness with her
hand, added some foundation on her face, drew a perfect pair of eyebrows, and
added some powder, blush and pink lipstick.

“Wow! I’m impressed!” Nifemi admired her new look in the mirror. “Soft and
definitely beautiful. Except it’s uncalled for.”

“Soft and romantic, you mean.” Moyo said, looking her sister in the mirror. She
sprayed some cologne over her body.

Nifemi smiled. “Well, it’s not like there’s any reason to look romantic this evening.
Thanks anyways. Remind me again, why aren’t you a make-up artist?”

Moyo chuckled as she replaced the make-up tools in the purse. “Well, that’s
because I enjoy my lecturing job.”

Nifemi nodded knowingly. “Right. I remember now. Wait!” She checked her
wristwatch. “Oh my! It’s almost 5, the proposal!” She unlocked the bathroom and
stepped out. She abruptly stood still at the sight of red petals on the floor.
“Moyo!”

“Yes Nifemi, is there a masquerade in your office or something?” Moyo stepped

out and held her sister’s hand as she saw the beautiful array of red petals.

Nifemi looked from her sister to the petals on the floor. “Do you have an idea
what this is all about?”

Moyo looked clueless. “Well, let’s find out.” Her eyes followed the array of petals
to the office entrance door. She pointed at the bouquet of red and white roses.
“Look, there’s a bouquet of flower at the door. There might be a note in it.”

Nifemi walked over the petals to the door—as fast as her heels could carry her,
she bent over and picked up the bunch of roses. Indeed, there was a note in it;

I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this day; I feel like I’ve loved you
my whole life. Maybe I have. I thank God every day for blessing me with
such an amazingly beautiful gift. My Sweet, you are beautiful inside-out.
The way that you grow in your relationship with God, your relationship

313
with me, and your career fills me with awe. I must confess, you put me on
my toes. I want to be that man that wakes up beside you every morning; I
want to be that man that prays with you; I want to be that man that
washes you with his words; I want to be that man that fulfils purpose with
you; I want to be that man that serves God with you; I want to be that man
that father’s all the four kids that you desire to have. Nifemi, I love you,
and I want to keep loving you like Christ loved the church—I want to give
myself to you, I want to be with you till the end of my life. Please do me
the honour…the red petals will lead you to where I am…

Nifemi had tears on her eyes by the time she was done reading the note
handwritten by Dara.

“Okay, please don’t ruin the make-up.” Moyo said.

Who cares about makeup right now? Holding the flower and note delicately close
to her heart, Nifemi was almost running down the hallway as she followed the
array of red petals, wondering where they were leading her. She didn’t even know
Dara was already in the country. Though he’d told her he would be returning to
Nigeria that week, he wasn’t specific about the actual day. For a moment Nifemi
stood abruptly as she realized where the petals were leading her, she didn’t just
plan her own proposal party, did she?

“Open the door already.” Moyo said from behind her.

Nifemi looked at her sister for some moments. “Did you know something all the
while?”

Moyo shrugged.

Nifemi took a deep breath and opened the door. She stepped into an almost
empty room. Fola, the violist, was the only person in the dining room. She was
dressed in a purple dress, playing one of her favorite classical—a tune from a
historical romance movie where a man had given up his life to save the woman
he loved. Nifemi stood still, savouring the music and the kind of love that it
represents—a sacrificial and an overwhelming kind of love that brought tears to
her eyes.

Dara was by the door watching as the tune from Fola’s violin seemed to strike
all the chords in the heart of his woman. He knew it was more than the tune, it
was his love that really struck her.

314
Nifemi could smell him as he moved closer. She spun—too overwhelmed to move
a foot.

Fola continued to play the violin.

Dara walked closer and she leaned forward into his arms—her feet still glued to
the floor. The couple’s eyes were closed as they savour each other’s smell and
breath after what seem like a never-ending two long years. He pulled back a little
and wiped the tears from her cheek. He went on one knee as he pulled out the
ring box from his pocket. “You’ve read the note.”

Nifemi nodded excitedly.

Dara smiled. “I love you. I don’t want to ever make you cry.”

Nifemi chuckled. “Well, you don’t seem to be doing a good job at that. Your love
overwhelms me so much that it brings tears to my eyes.”

“I see that now. Let me rephrase; I don’t want to ever bring tears to your eyes,
except tears of love and joy. I have prayed, and I believe that I will be that man
who loves you unconditionally and sacrificially. Nifemi, so what do you say my
Sweet—”

“Yes! Yes, I will marry you!” She exclaimed before he completed his question,
tears of love and joy dwindling down her cheeks.

Dara grinned and put the ring on her finger. He got up and pulled her into an
embrace. There were roars of footsteps and claps in the room as the newly
engaged couple held each other so tight, savouring the moments like they were
the only two people on earth.

The couple finally disentangled after what seemed like an eternity to the guests.

Nifemi opened her eyes and covered her mouth in amazement at the sight of her
sister, her brother in-law, Seth, Grace, Uzo & her husband, Ivie, Kelvin, Tosin,
Mommy Kiki and her children—Kiki, Sope and Tito. The newly engaged couple
took turns in hugging their closest family and friends.

To say Nifemi beamed with excitement would be an understatement. She jabbed

Kelvin’s arm before hugging him. “And there I was thinking I was planning your
proposal to Tosin. So, you had me planning my proposal the whole time.”

315
Kelvin grinned. “Well, my dear friend, you were the one who assumed. I never
mentioned proposing to Tosin. You drew that conclusion, plus—” he raised
Tosin’s hand up. “I proposed to her a week ago, and she said yes.”

“Get out of here guys.” Nifemi joked as she hugged Kelvin and Tosin.
“Congratulations.”

“Don’t make us steal the spotlight.” Tosin warned. “You are the one who just got
engaged.” She raised Nifemi’s ring finger, “look at your ring, girl, it’s so beautiful.”

“Thanks for helping out with this.” Dara said to Kelvin and Tosin.

“Anytime.” Kelvin replied, patting Dara’s back.

Moyo held out her arm as Nifemi got closer to her. “You are welcome, dear sister.”

Nifemi chuckled. “I haven’t even said thank you.” She made way for the three
servers who had gotten down to serving every table already. They whispered
congratulations to her. “Thank you, ladies.” She said to them, before returning
her attention to her sister whose eyes seemed to be asking for a ‘thank you.’ She
chuckled as Paul and Dara had finished exchanging pleasantries and seemed to
be having a cinematic experience watching her and Moyo. “Thank you.” She
finally said to her sister. She hugged her, “You are the best!” The sisters seemed
to have travelled back in time while in each other’s arms as the hug stayed for a
while and ultimately left them teary.

“You chose the right man.” Moyo said, pulling away. She reached out for Dara
and they hugged. “I trust you to take care of her.” She whispered into his ears.

Uzo held Nifemi so tight. “You made the right choice, my friend. I’m so happy for
you.”

“Thank you, my friend.” She hugged Uzo one more time, hugged Bayo and held
Ivie’s chin playfully for a moment—she had to momentarily jerked herself up to
not be lured to playing more with Ivie who seemed to always have a lingering
smile on her face and eyes that says; ‘cheerfulness is the new normal.’

Even Dara couldn’t help but be drawn to Ivie who is now a year and six months
old. “It’s so good to finally meet you, princess Ivie—I’ve heard so much about
you—a lot of good stuffs.” He shook Ivie’s tiny hand, and his smile was broader
by the time he was walking away from their table.

316
Mommy Kiki and her children got up and took turns in hugging the couple. “I
couldn’t have imagined a better wife for my son.” Mommy Kiki said still holding
Nifemi’s arms.”

Okay, Nifemi seemed to be missing something. She shot Dara a questioning look.
The last time she checked, the woman hated Dara. Now, she referred to him as
a son? How come she wasn’t told of this miracle?

Dara gave her a nod and a look that said all was well indeed.

“You are welcome to the family, Sis.” Kiki said. “And thank you for making
delectable vegan meals.”

Nifemi grinned and gave Kiki a shrewd nod. “I see you are the vegan. Thank you
all for accepting me into the family.”

“Does that mean we are good?” Mommy Kiki asked Nifemi with a smile.

“Are you kidding me?” Nifemi gave the woman another warm and tight hug. “This
is like one prayer point off my list. We are more than good.”

“You have a large heart, my dear. You’re welcome to the family.”

The couple took their own seats.

Fola was about leaving the room, but Nifemi called her back, and told her to take
one of the empty seats at Uzo’s desk. She seemed a bit shy, but it didn’t take
long for Ivie to help put her at ease.

Everyone had a bright smile on their faces as they ate the delectable Charisa’s
meals.

It was a memorable night for everyone, especially for the newly engaged couples.

Thanks to Dara’s cousin, Sope, who put his photography skills to use by
capturing every moment of the proposal—right from when Nifemi ran down the
hallway.

Dara rewarded the staff who served them and the violist with a generous tip
before leaving.

Nifemi pleaded with her brother in-law to give Fola a ride to the orphanage. She
and her fiancé spent a little more time alone in the dining room, not willing to let
each other go.

317
“I should take you home now.” Dara said, almost forcing himself to make that
decision. He could stare at her all night long and not get bored—her eyes were
enchanting and spoke volumes of emotion.

Nifemi held tight onto his hand. “Let’s not leave now please.”

Dara looked at his wristwatch. “It’s almost 9pm.”

“Well, who knows, there might even be traffic on the third mainland bridge.”

Dara chuckled. “Well, we can find out by calling one of our guests, or check
google map.”

She shook her head. “There’s no point finding out. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Well, I don’t want to leave you too, my Sweet.”

“I love you.” Nifemi said.

He intertwined his fingers in hers. “I love you.”

“And I must confess,” she said, eyeing him contentedly. “Hours in the gym looks
really good on you. I’m captivated by your new look. Is it inappropriate to say
you look hot?”

Dara grinned like he’d just won a jackpot. “It’s not inappropriate, my Sweet. It’s
soothing to hear it from you. I want to look good and attractive to you.”

She chuckled. “Are you kidding me? Well, you always looked good and attractive
to me even without the strong muscles.”

Dara smiled. “That’s good to know. No harm in looking better right? I mean even
though you are a naturally beautiful woman, you spend hours in the salon
getting your hair fixed—that makes you even more attractive to me. So, this is
my way of giving back to you.”

“Thank you.” She whispered. “It means a lot to me, and you sure look more
attractive too.”

“Thank you too.” He responded.

They stayed till 9pm.

The restaurant closed at 10pm. Usually Nifemi doesn’t stay till the restaurant
closing hour—she had supervisors in each department, and an experienced

318
manager who took care of things. She usually ends her own work between 7pm
to 9pm. Sometimes, she went home in a commercial bus, at other times, she
called an Uber. Even some of her staff had their own cars, but the CEO didn’t
seem to be interested in one just yet. Dara made a mental note to discuss her
need for a car as soon as he settled in fully. He wished he could afford to buy
her a car already, but he wasn’t going to rush things—it was just the beginning
of his return to Demi’s App. He was thankful for the opportunity, and he was
sure that with God’s anointing on him, all the skills he’d learnt during his
Master’s study and internship will go a long way in attracting new clients and
businesses to the company.

They arrived the gate to Nifemi’s at about 9.30pm. He walked her to the gate as
she dialled her sister’s number and gave her one more hug as she went into the
compound. They waved at each other as she closed the gate. He sent some
thanksgiving to God, heaved a sigh of relief and went back to his car, replaying
the whole night over and over in his head as he drove. “Dara loves Nifemi, and
Nifemi loves Dara” he muttered to himself and kept grinning until his mouth
hurt.

319
 CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

DARA PACED about his bedroom—it was the first time he had to pace so
frantically whilst having his devotion.

“No Lord! Why should I be the one to go to them? They were the ones who left
me, remember?” Like God needed a reminder from him—he couldn’t believe he
was arguing with the Holy Spirit.

“I see you’re the one who needs a reminder here.” he heard the Holy Spirit said,
“I came running after you even when you kept running away from me and kept
rejecting me. I left my throne in heaven, came down to earth, took the punishment
for your sins, and forgave you all your sins; I took away from you the garment of
shame and reproach, clothed you with my robe of righteousness, and kept loving
you even when you kept messing up. I forgave you, Darasimi. I was good to you
even when all you did was hurt me over and again. You have no reason to not
forgive anyone, not even your parents. I understand you grew up feeling rejected
and forsaken by the same people who ought to have loved you…I’ve felt that way
countless times, but it never stopped me from loving you and forgiving you. You
can do this, my son. You can forgive your parents. Go to them. My grace is
sufficient for you.”1

Dara was flat on his face, sobbing like a little boy. All these years, he thought he
was used to seeing his parents from afar. He thought he was used to being
rejected and totally ignored by them. But the truth is, he’d been penning up
anger and unforgiveness in his heart toward them. He had no plans of informing
them of his wedding until he started becoming more aware of the Holy Spirit
nudging him toward forgiveness. The nudging seemed to have gotten intense—
too intense to be ignored like he’d did all these past years. How did God do it?
How did He get to forgive us despite all our sins? He loves us so much—what did
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 say?

320
 Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous, it does not brag, and it is
not proud. Love is not rude, it is not selfish, and it cannot be made angry
easily. Love does not remember wrongs done against it. Love is never
happy when others do wrong, but it is always happy with the truth. Love
never gives up on people. It never stops trusting, never loses hope, and
never quits. Love will never end.

Those features of love were pointers to how much we are loved by God, and He
wants us to love others in the same vein. All of our faith, knowledge, tongues
and sacrifices are counted as NOTHING if we do not love. In the end, only love
would remain, only love would count for something.

“God, fill my heart with love for my parents. Help me to tear all the record of
wrongs I’ve kept regarding them, help me to not give up on them, help me to be
kind to them. I receive the strength to go to them and show them how much I
love them.”

“My love has already been shed abroad in your heart by My Spirit who lives in
you, and my grace is sufficient for you, for my strength works best when you are
weak.”2

After a few more minutes of getting his strength renewed in God’s presence. Dara
got up to went to get his breakfast. His aunty was just having her breakfast too.

“Hi.” Mommy Kiki said, and took another bite of sandwich.

“Good morning Mom.”

Mommy Kiki smiled. Mom was what he had always called her since the day he
began to live with them, and not even her appalling attitude toward him had
changed that. “Good morning, my son. That’s your sandwich.”

Dara pulled out a chair beside his Aunt and helped himself with some tea and
honey. “Where are the other crew members?”

“Sweating it off in the gym.”

Dara chuckled. “Are you kidding me? These guys aren’t joking.”

“So it seems. Well, I guess the other two would give up on the gym once Kiki goes
back to school—except you are ready to hit the gym again.” She pushed the flask
of hot water to him. “I know you don’t do lukewarm tea.”

321
He grinned. “Thanks mom.” He poured in some hot water into the tea and gave
the tea some mixing. “I’m not sure I want to hit the gym just yet—even though
I inspired them. I need to get my head back in the business first.” He took a bite
of the sandwich and closed his eyes as he chewed and savoured the taste.
“Yummy as usual.”

She gave him a playful nod. “Thanks for being so gracious.”

He chuckled. “But it’s the truth.”

“Yea right…but a total bland compared to wifey’s.”

“Haha! Is my mom jealous right now?”

She shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be?”

Dara put his arms around her. “Mommy’s cooking is always delectable and
exceptional. It’s the reason I’m so fine and strong. Wifey’s cooking is also
delectable and exceptional. No competitions, no comparisons.”

“No judgements?” She queried teasingly.”

“No judgements too.” He assured and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She patted his arm. “I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

They held each other’s eyes and smiled as they continued their breakfast.

Mommy Kiki sipped some tea and looked at Dara for a brief. “Thanks for forgiving
me.”

Dara stared at her. “Seriously, Mom. I couldn’t have done otherwise.”

She nodded. “I overheard some of your prayers this morning. I’m sorry dear, I
didn’t mean to eavesdrop…”

He dropped the sandwich on the dining table and gave her his rapt attention; he
knew she had something on her mind for him.

“You know; you can forgive your parents too. You don’t have to feel like you love
them. The truth is you do love them, and that’s the reason it hurts so much. It
will hurt less when you decide to forgive them and see things from their own
perspective. Also, from what I know, your mother has been longing to fix things

322
with you. She feels terrible for all the awful things she said and did to you. She
secretly longs for your forgiveness, your touch, your love. She loves you, and
she’s sorry. I’m sure she is.”

Dara’s eyes were misty now. “Did she really tell you that?”

“She confided in me once.”

He sniffed. “I used to think she hates me—like I was the worst thing that ever
happened in her life. I felt she avoided me like a plague.”

Mommy Kiki shook her head. “She loves you, she feels undeserving of your love,
and too broken to come close to you.” She smiles. “She’s so pleased with the man
you have become, she had always been.”

Dara got up. “I’m going to see her right away. I will go with Nifemi.”

She held his arm. “Okay, slow down dear. I think you should discuss this with
Nifemi first, remember she works on Saturdays. She might be busy at the
restaurant now. How about you guys go tomorrow after church?”

Dara nodded, his heart seemed to have jump off his chest and was racing to his
mom. How he missed her. How he craved for her hug, her sweet words, her love.
Though he’d waited thirty-one years to realize that he was indeed loved by his
mother, waiting another day seemed to him like eternity.

Mommy Kiki got up and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay to cry out the
hurt, my son. Mommy won’t judge you. You’ve trapped it in all these years. Let
it out already. You are in Mommy’s arms.” She whispered to her.

Who said, ‘men don’t cry?’ Dara sobbed like a baby in the arms of his aunt, who
had since become his mom.

***

Nifemi had opted for a simple wedding—just like her elder sister, she didn’t feel
the need for an elaborate wedding, mainly because they had no close family aside
their foster dad—the seventy-five year old reverend father. So, the plan was to
take the bride’s dowry to the village—it was left to her kinsmen to share the
dowry within themselves.

323
The couple would exchange their vows in a registry. Only close families and
friends of the couples would be invited—not more than forty people. A pastor
would be present to bless their union. The reception party would hold at a small
hall in an event centre just a short distance from the Registry, and of course,
Charisa’s Restaurant would be responsible for the catering.

They’d fixed the wedding for two months after the engagement—September 4—a
day before Nifemi clocks thirty-one years. How did time get by so fast?
Sometimes, when she looked at herself in the mirror, it was hard to tell she was
thirty-one—her slim frame and babyish face could make her pass for a twenty-
two-year-old. Though her desire had been to get married at twenty-five, she had
no regrets she was marrying at thirty-one—the time was right, the man was right,
her perspectives were right, the situation was right—everything seemed to agree;
God had built her into a woman after His own heart, a woman with character, a
woman who wasn’t only beautiful on the outside, but she had become a woman
who had the ageless and priceless beauty of the heart. She knew she hadn’t fully
become all that God would have her be, she was still on her way to becoming—
there’s always much more. But she was grateful for how far God had brought
her, and this one thing she had learnt to do—forgetting those things which were
behind, and reaching forth to those things which were before, just like the
Apostle Paul had said in Philippians 3:13-14 Living Bible (TLB):
13No, dear brothers, I am still not all I should be, but I am bringing all my
energies to bear on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward
to what lies ahead, 14 I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the
prize for which God is calling us up to heaven because of what Christ
Jesus did for us.

Jesus gave up His life for humanity, so that our spirit, soul and body would
overflow with life in abundance.3 As we continue to keep our minds stayed on
him—giving attention to His words; becoming overwhelmed by His presence—He
keeps our spirit, soul and body in perfect peace.4 One of the major decisions that
Nifemi had made recently was to deliberately, consciously and consistently keep
her mind on God’s words.

Another major breakthrough in Nifemi’s life was her career. She didn’t think she
would be running her own successful restaurant at thirty-one—more so, two
locations. Just three years ago, she was a secondary school teacher with a
monthly income less than fifty thousand naira. Now, she ran two successful

324
restaurants, and though she had placed herself on a monthly salary of two
hundred thousand naira since opening the second location, she was also
responsible for the salary of fifty employees. Since she still lived at her sister’s,
a chunk of her salary was either invested into the church, helping people or
reinvested into the business.

Dara and Nifemi visited his parents in their individual homes since they were
now married to different spouses. Mommy Kiki was right. The look on his
mother’s eyes when he opened the door for them was priceless—a mixture of
longing, warmth and remorse; Dara’s mother almost went on her knees before
them, but Dara quickly grabbed her arms and pulled her close in a tight and
affectionate embrace. The mother and son cried on each other’s shoulders for
nothing less than five minutes. Dara felt like a child in his birth mother’s arms—
he didn’t want to let go, he seemed to want to make up for all those years of
separation in one day—who wouldn’t? It was his first time getting a hug from his
birth mother, even though she’d been alive all these years.

Still sobbing and holding onto each other, mother and son sauntered into the
living room—Dara’s mom held her son’s strong shoulders and sat him carefully
on the sofa—another flood of tears burst forth from her eyes when she
remembered those years when he’d came to her with trembling and delicate
shoulders, sobbing and wanting to be comforted by mommy. But all she ever did
was ignored him, yelled at him, and reminded him that he had been conceived
by mistake. Watching him from a distance as he grew into a handsome, smart,
strong, god-fearing, and gentle man had filled her with thanksgiving, guilt and
unhappiness—thanksgiving because her attempts to get him out of her womb
when he was a fetus failed—guilt because she had even attempted to abort such
a great destiny and treated him with disdain when he was only a child in need
of his mother’s love—unhappiness because she would spend the rest of her life
watching her son from afar; she would watch him call another woman mommy;
she would not be able to attend his graduation; she would not be invited to his
wedding; she would not be introduced to his wife; his kids would neither know
nor call her grandma. She was learning to live with that. Both joy and shame
had overwhelmed her when she opened the door and saw her handsome son
with a gorgeous woman by his side. She thought it was a dream until he reached
out and grabbed her with his strong arms before she could go on her knees before
him. She didn’t think she deserved to be a part of his life.

325
Dara’s head was on his mother’s laps as he continued to sob. The warmth of his
mother’s palms as he cares his head was soothing—it made him forget all those
years of longing. He could feel also, the warm droplets of her tears on his head.
“I love you, mother.” He finally said, and for the first time he heard those three
words from his mom—

“I love you, my son, Oluwadarasimi”—they came with so much balminess of

emotions, healing his broken heart.

Nifemi was not the only one who couldn’t hold back tears at the sight of mother
and son, Dara’s two sisters from his mom were crying too.

The new reunion was sealed with a family lunch of Amala & Ewedu with Dara’s
mother, his two sisters and their dad. The family was an average income one.
Dara was impressed at how well his sisters were raised—they were both A-
students at a federal university in the country—one was studying to become a
Computer scientist, while the other was studying to become a mass
communicator; they were smart and humble; they were more than excited to
have him as their big brother and Nifemi, as their big sister.

A good thing, Dara’s birth father also lived in the city, though on the Island.
Dara’s mother had called him after lunch and told him his son wanted to see
and get to know him. He sounded excited on the phone and texted the address
as soon as the call ended.

With the aid of google map, Dara didn’t have any difficulty locating his father’s
resident. The man was at the gate waiting for them. He hugged Dara as soon as
he drove into the compound and alighted from his car. He led them into his six-
bedroom detached duplex and introduced them to his wife and three teenage
children—a boy and two girls. They didn’t say more than a ‘Hi’ to Dara and Nifemi
before exiting the living room with their mother. The man was obviously doing
well for himself financially, but it didn’t look like he raised his children well.

Nifemi didn’t miss the condescending look on the faces of Dara’s recently
discovered step-mother and half-siblings as they were introduced.

Dara had little to say to his dad since he had never been in his life. The man had
little to say likewise. Dara told his dad he wanted him to be part of his life if he
didn’t mind.

326
“Mind? This has to be the best day of my life.” Dara’s dad said with a huge grin.
“I didn’t think you would want me. I mean, I don’t even deserve to be called your
father. For thirty-one years, all I saw of you were pictures, I refused to see you
since you were born. I’m not worthy to be called your dad, and it baffles me that
you would forgive me and even come to me.”

Dara smiled. “Dad, sincerely, forgiving you and mom wasn’t easy at first.
However, I was reminded of how much I’ve been forgiven by God despite my
rejection of Him; I was reminded of how Jesus came down to take away my sins
and to clothe me with His own righteousness; I’m reminded of how God has been
taking care of me and pulling me up even when I mess up. The Spirit of God
taught me to forgive you, dad.”

Dara’s dad listened intently. “So, God told you to forgive me?”

Dara nodded.

“Hmm. I admire your courage, my son. You are such a remarkable young man.
I’m inspired by your life already.” He looked commendably at Nifemi. “Your fiancé
is very gorgeous too.”

“Thank you, sir.” Nifemi said with a smile.

Dara gave his dad an invite to his wedding. He also gave him some gifts—
cufflinks and wristwatch. The gifts brought tears to the man’s eyes. His son, the
same son whom he had rejected and wanted dead even before birth had come to
see him, to love on him, to introduce his fiancé to him, to invite him to be part
of his wedding—and his life—he even brought gifts for him. Suddenly, the man
broke down crying. “I don’t…I don’t deserve you, my son.”

Dara got up and went over to his father’s side. He hugged him. His father’s
brokenness brought tears to his eyes too. “I missed you, dad.”

Nifemi swiped tears from her face and looked away from the father & son for
some moments. The sight of two grown-up men crying seemed more tear-
provoking than she’d imagined.

The family of Dara’s birth father didn’t show up in the living room even while
Dara and Nifemi were about leaving. Dara wanted to ask to see them before
leaving, but he noticed his dad didn’t sound excited about his family; he evaded
any topic that related to them and didn’t look like he wanted them to say goodbye

327
to Dara. Dara sent his regards to them and hugged his dad one more time. Nifemi
curtsied before her father in-law as she said goodbye.

Dara held Nifemi’s hand as they walked to the car. He opened the door for her
and let her settle on her seat before going over to his. He heaved a sigh of relief
as he held the steering wheel.

Nifemi stroked his back, her eyes were full of affection. “You did well, my Love.
I’m super-pleased with you.”

Dara looked at her and smiled. “Thanks my Sweet. And thanks for staying with
me the whole time. I couldn’t have done this alone.”

She smiled. “Thank God, He gave you the strength to do it.”

“Yes, thank God. I feel so refreshed. I feel like a new energy has been instilled
into me.”

“Well, that’s because you’ve been wasting a good amount of energy on

unforgiveness.”

He nodded knowingly. “I think so too…Thank God. Now, I can channel those

energies on something productive and destiny-worthy.”

She moved her hand from his back up to his neck, rubbing her thumb over his
ear. “That’s the spirit, my Love.”

Dara closed his eyes briefly and then open them again. “Babe, if you keep
stroking my ear like that—”

She quickly retracted her hand. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “I’m sorry too. It’s not like I wasn’t enjoying it. It’s just that it’s not
helping my imaginations. We have less than two months, my Sweet.”

She nodded. “Yea, I can wait.”

He held her hand briefly. “I can wait too.” He didn’t realize his father was still at
the entryway until he looked up. The man’s eyes were filled with admiration. He
gave him a thumb up and waved at them.

Dara smiled and waved back.

“Oh my!” Nifemi exclaimed.

328
“What? Shy now?”

“Yea. I hate PDA, remember?”

Dara grinned. “Hmm. Really? What about the one at the engagement party?”

She shrugged. “It’s different. I was overwhelmed with emotions.”

“Well, that’s the way it works. Couples get overwhelmed with emotions and then
display affection to each other, forgetting momentarily that other people are
watching them, because at those overwhelming moments, all they can see is each
other.” His eyes held hers for some moments. “I love you.” He said as he finally
turned on the ignition.

“I love you too.”

They waved at Dara’s dad as they drove to the gate and out of the compound.

Now that Dara had sorted out things with his parents. They could focus on the
wedding, getting an apartment of their own, and making honeymoon plans.

***

Dara had dropped Nifemi at her sister’s resident an hour before. Their day had
been packed with tight schedules—both had to close work at 4pm to go for a
two-hours premarital counselling at Nifemi’s church. After the counselling
session, they went with a real-estate agent to check out apartments that were on
lease. They’ve been on the housing hunt for a week now, but they still haven’t
found one that appealed to their taste and comfort.

Nifemi and Dara had also gone through a two-months pre-engagement

counselling at Dara’s church before he travelled out of the country—it was one
of the reasons Nifemi was so sure he would propose before he travelled. Well, he
did propose after all—though two years after—it all made sense now, since she
wasn’t even ready back then. Thank God she was ready now. Even though the
pre-marital counselling had only been on for a week and they still had three
weeks to go, she knew she was ready to be a wife—Dara’s wife—Mrs. Nifemi
William. She spun and smiled at the thoughts in her head. Dara had always
answered his birth father’s first name—William. Nifemi liked the name—it was

329
on her mental list of last names she would like to bear after wedding. She smiled
again.

The door opened and Moyo strolled into Nifemi’s bedroom, a pamphlet in her
hand. She didn’t miss the smile that still lingered on Nifemi’s face despite her
effort to switch to normal. “Hmm, someone can’t wait to be married. Counting
days, huh?” She pulled the chair close to the bed and sat opposite Nifemi.

Nifemi smiled, “I can’t really say I’m counting. It’s still a month and two weeks.”

Moyo smiled. “Hmm…And you’ve not been counting.”

They both laughed.

Nifemi pushed herself up, back resting on the headboard, she sat on the bed.
“So, what brings you, sis?”

Moyo frowned. “What’s that? So, somebody cannot check on her little sister
again?”

Nifemi chuckled. “Sure, she can…” she looked her sister over. “I’m definitely
going to miss this—you coming into my room like this, our small talks, grave
discussions, prayer sessions, arguments and everything.”

“I know. It hurts to think we won’t always have this. In six weeks you will be
gone from this house, and this room—” Moyo looked around the room, “—will be
empty.” Her eyes were misty now. “You will be missed, Oluwanifemi.”

“Awwwwww” Nifemi jumped down the bed and embraced her sister.

“I’m so enthralled at the woman you have become.” Moyo said amidst tears. “And
I’m going to miss you.” She held her closer—too tight for comfort.

“I can’t breathe” Nifemi said playfully.

Moyo released her hold and held her sister’s cheeks. “I love you, little sis.”

Nifemi wiped the tears off her sister’s face. “I love you too, big sis.” It’s weird how
no tear made it to her eyes at that moment. Maybe she was too excited to start
a new phase of her life, that she didn’t think some few benefits she would be
missing in the present phase could be compared to the loads of benefits that
awaited her in the new phase she was going into. It wasn’t like she won’t be
seeing her sister again—since they would still be living in the same city—

330
hopefully not too long distance apart. She’d heard of siblings who lived in Lagos,
but don’t even get to see each other in as much as two years—due to distance
and fear of traffic. She believed that won’t be their own story—if you truly love
someone, you would go to them no matter the distance—she and her sister loved
each other and aside their immediate families, they only had each other.

“So, what’s up with the house hunting?” Moyo asked as Nifemi went back to the
bed.

“Nothing yet.”

“There’s something I need to show you?” she raised the pamphlet in her hand.

Nifemi had a smirk on her face. “Well, based on record, whenever you come into
my room with a paper in your hand, some good news usually follows…I’m
curious though, what is it this time? Definitely not another appointment letter
at Hallopins.”

“You are right. And no, it isn’t another appointment letter at Hallopins. It’s a list
of houses and flats on mortgage, and their payment plans.”

Nifemi collected the pamphlet and went through it. “Lagos homes?”

“Yea. Heard of it before now?”

“Kind of.”

“The estates are sponsored by the Lagos state government. The three-bedroom
flats at Ogudu Estate cost Fifteen million naira. five million down payment. The
balance will be paid on installments, that would span through five years.”

“That would be about one hundred and sixty-seven thousand naira every month
for five years…Hmm, I think it’s cool. But I will have to run it through Dara first.”

“Sure. One more thing though. The application closes in a week, and the
successful applicants would be those names that would be picked during the
raffle.”

Nifemi widened her eyes. “There would be a raffle?”

“Yes. There are lots of applicants already. So, raffle seems to be their best method
of choosing”

Nifemi shrugged. “I don’t know—the raffle though. Are you guys applying?”

331
Moyo nodded. “I wanted to tell you first. You should discuss it with Dara. I think
it’s an opportunity to own your space—though it’s just a flat—I think it’s good
for starters. Plus, the environment is a pretty decent one—convenient, neat,
landscaped and serene.”

Nifemi smiled. “Hmm, sounds really good. We would most likely go for it. We
trust God to work it out if it’s His perfect will for us at this time.”

Moyo gave her sister a high-five. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

They made a few plans regarding the wedding—Moyo had called two of their
uncles—the same people that their late grandma had called when Moyo was
about getting married. Moyo had gotten from them the updated list of items for
dowry and scheduled a meeting with them regarding Nifemi’s dowry payment.

Moyo, Nifemi, Dara, his parents and Mommy Kiki would be travelling to the
village for Nifemi’s dowry payment. They would be bringing the reverend father
back to Lagos with them—for a year now they’d continue to pester the man on
the need for him to spend time with them. He had bulged this time as it seemed
to be his last chance of spending time together with the two ladies at once,
considering Nifemi would be getting married soon. He would be holidaying with
them until the wedding.

The kids had not stopped making plans since their dad told them of the reverend
grandpa’s upcoming visit. Grace had offered to give up her bed to Nifemi since
reverend grandpa would be staying in Nifemi’s bedroom. Actually, there would
be no need for that as Nifemi could make use of the spare mattress—though she
would have to lay the mattress in the kids’ room.

332
 CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“I PRESENT to you Mr. & Mrs. Oluwadarasimi Williams.” Nifemi smiled whilst
praying as she remembered the pastor’s announcement after he had blessed
their union at the registry.

The new couple had arrived at their hotel room about ten minutes before. They’d
immediately went on their knees singing songs of praises to God in both
understanding and tongues—making melodies in their hearts to the Lord.1

They opened their eyes as they brought the song to an end and affirmed the
words of God over their lives and the phase that they had both began.

Still on their knees, they held each other’s eyes. Dara interrupted the connection
by getting up. He helped his wife to her feet and then pull off his suit. He went
over to the suit hanger and hung his suit. Nifemi was by the dressing mirror
removing her ear rings when he turned. He smiled and went over to her.

Nifemi smiled as she saw her husband approaching her in the mirror.

Dara put one arm around her shoulder and the other around her waist.

Nifemi closed her eyes as her husband’s arm cares her body.

His arm moved up from her waist to her neck. His hands traced the circle of her
necklace. He looked at her through the mirror—her eyes were still closed, and
her face was covered with desire. He unhooked her necklace and placed it gently
on the drawer. The smell of her hair was so sweet, so was her cologne. Her
wedding dress was both simple and gorgeous—an ankle length white body-con
silk dress with lace short sleeves and a thin-strip waistline. He kissed her neck
and spun her. She opened her eyes thinly and circled her arms around his neck.
he kissed her neck again, then her chin, and her lips. She melted completely as
his lips touched hers—she kissed him slowly at first and then avidly as his hands
caressed the small of her back. She stroked his hair and his nape.

333
For the first time, she felt pure and without guilt in the arms of a man—because
he wasn’t just any man, he was her husband, God had joined them together—
she is now one with him and together they could explore each other’s body. She
relaxed more as he pulled her closer to himself. His hand had found her zip. Her
hand found the buttons of his shirt too, she started to unloose them—and so,
the honeymoon began. It wasn’t exactly the way Nifemi had pictured it—she had
imagined taking a shower as soon as they got into their hotel room and then,
putting on one of the sexy night gowns she’d gotten.

***

Awaken by room service, Dara picked up his phone from the side drawer and
checked the time; it was 5am. He and his wife had literally slept in each other’s
arms—indeed Nifemi was still a heavy sleeper. He kissed her neck and her eyes
opened reluctantly. “Happy birthday, my wife.”

“Hmm, your wife—I like the sound of that.”

There was another knock on the door.

“I need to get the door.” He said softly.

Nifemi held onto him, unwilling to let go. She reached for his lips and took them
in hers. He didn’t resist her. For a moment he forgot about the hotel attendant
at the door, until they heard another knock.

Nifemi withdrew.

Dara gave her a kiss on the forehead and got off the bed. He slid into a short and
shirt and rushed over to the door as another sequence of knock came forth.

“Good Morning Sir. You requested that a box of soy milk and cocoa-balls be
delivered to your room at 5am.”

“Yes please.” Dara collected the boxes of cereal and milk. “Thank you.”

The attendant smiled and walked away.

Dara closed the door and set their breakfast on the small kitchen cabinet. They
had a 7am flight to Dubai—Dara’s dad had gifted them a two-week honey-moon
vacation in Dubai—all expense covered.

334
Dara looked his wife over, she didn’t seem willing to get off the bed just yet. “My
Sweet, we have less than an hour to leave the hotel. We have a flight to catch,
remember?”

Nifemi pushed herself up—holding the bed cover securely against her chest.

Dara smiled. “We are married, babe.”

She chuckled. “Sure, I remember, it was just yesterday.”

He picked up the wedding clothes they’d dumped on the floor the day before and
set them on their suitcases. “So, why do you have that sheet over your body.”

She looked at the sheet and smiled. “We should have our bath now.”

The newlywed went into the bathroom together—almost going through another
episode of love-making in the bathtub. They had to stop themselves and decided
it was wise to save the next episode of love-making for Dubai. They dressed up
and hurried over their breakfast. The Uber driver was already waiting for them
at the hotel’s parking lot.

They got to the airport ten minutes before they were checked in. The couple were
either holding hands or leaning on each other all through the journey.

***

Dara and Nifemi arrived Dubai at about 3pm. They had reservation in a hotel
not far from the airport.

The instant they arrived at the magnificent hotel, their luggage was carried in by
one of the hotel staff who seemed to already know their room as soon as Dara
introduced himself. He held his wife by the hand and led them to the lobby. One
of the receptionists did some tapping on her keyboard and handed Dara the
access card to their suite. Another staff led them to their suite. The staff that
had carried their luggage was by the door waiting with the luggage. Dara
unlocked the door, and they were welcomed by a royal one-bedroom suite that
had glass doors opening on to a balcony—it had a magnificent panoramic view
of the Dubai cityscape and tranquil azure ocean—indeed it was a suite perfect
for modern day princes and princesses.

335
Dara and Nifemi felt like a prince and princess in the 225 square meters suite
perfectly located to indulge while watching the world pass by. The room had a
King size bed with several size and colors of pillows with Eiderdown duvets and
exquisite Egyptian cotton linen; gold formal dining table set; a large gold
wardrobe with full length mirror doors; gold and crystal chandeliers—every detail
of the room exude royalty. The technology in the room ranged from a
complimentary Wi-Fi, a 21-inch iMac, a 42-inch widescreen interactive HD TV,
Bose iPod/iPhone docking station and media hub, remote controlled
environment including curtains, in-suite music and lights. The master bathroom
had a full-size Jacuzzi and a separate five-head rain shower.

“Wow!” Dara exclaimed, swallowing in the luxury of the room.

Nifemi grinned. “I feel like a princess in here.”

Dara moved closer to his wife, one arm circling her waist and the other on her
chin. “And I definitely feel like your prince.” He kissed her.

She closed her eyes and kissed him back, stroking his arm up to his nape.

The couple had no idea one of the attendants was still in the room. The man
coughed to remind them of his presence.

The couple disentangled.

Nifemi scratched her brow and went over to the bed.

“I want to know if you would be needing anything sir.” The staff said as Dara
approached him.

“We would have our lunch now please—an in suite delivery.”

“The menu is right there on the dining table, sir.”

Dara picked up two menu booklets and handed one to his wife.

The attendant took their orders and exited the room, closing the door gently
behind him.

Dara unpacked their things while Nifemi pulled her shoes. She laid on the comfy
quilt—it felt soothing to her nerves.

“Even the most frantic nerve would relax on this quilt.” Nifemi said as she rolled
over on the bed like a child.

336
Dara chuckled. “Perfect for honey moon.”

“Right. But then, I want to relax in your arms every day of our lives—not only on
honey moon.”

“Hmm. You say that now. I’ve been advised to maximize the next two weeks.”

She sat up and stared at him. “Why is that?”

“Well.” he kept on arranging their things into the wardrobe, “From what I’ve been
told, two weeks from now, I might need to beg you.”

She frowned. “Beg me? For what?”

He shrugged and kept mute as he continued to put in their clothes into the
wardrobe.

She got down from the bed and went to him. Hugging him from behind, she
whispered ‘please’ into his ear, and then, kissed his ear lobe.

He giggled. “I won’t be tempted to tell you.”

She tickled his waist. “Tell me jor…I’ll bite your ears o”

He smiled. “Should I be scared?”

“Maybe…” she gave him a playfully gentle bite on one ear and then the other.

He gave her a brief kiss on the lips. “Come here.” He held her by the hand and
pulled her to the bed. He sat down and made her sit on his laps. Circling his
arms around her waist, he laid his head on her chest.

She placed her arms around his neck—stroking his neck and scalp.

His hands got firmer around her waist, he pulled back his head and gazed
intensely into her eyes—they were filled with desires, so were hers. His hands
moved gently up the small of her back.

Her hands on his shoulders, she was about to push him gently over the bed, but
for the sudden interruption from the door that brought them to a momentary
halt.

They resumed after the sequence of knocks on the door ended. But another
sequence of knock stopped them from going further.

337
“Wait.” Nifemi whispered, her hands still on his shoulders. “Are these people
aware we are here on honeymoon?”

Dara chuckled. “We ordered lunch, remember?”

“But I’m not hungry for food anymore—I’m hungry for you; I want you.”

“I want you too, my Sweet. Let me quickly get the door. I will be back before you
know it.” He gave her a brief kiss on the lips, got off the bed and hurried to the
door.

The waiter wheeled in their order, set their two-course meals on the dining table
and exit the room.

Dara thanked the waiter and locked up the door. “so, do you want to have lunch
first?”

She gave him a playful frown. “Are you kidding me?”

Dara giggled and walked back to the bed. “I thought so too.” He laid beside her.

“So, what were you saying about begging me two weeks from now?” She queried.

“Seriously?” I thought you already forgot.

“You know me. I don’t do half-conversations.”

“Right. So, there’s this general notion about married women being less keen
about sex with time.”

“Hmm. So, I heard too. But, we are going to be intentional about our
relationship—our sex life inclusive—we won’t leave nothing to popular belief; we
would keep God at the center of our lives and our relationship; with God at the
center, we will only get better.” She kissed him, “this will only get better.”

He kissed her but pulled back gently. “My Babe, I almost forgot. Where would
you like me to take you later in the evening? It’s your birthday, remember? And
I still haven’t gotten you a gift.”

She smiled. “I don’t want to go anywhere? I just want to be in here with you all
evening, and all night. Plus, you’ve already given me the best birthday gift you
could give.”

“Hmm. And what’s that?”

338
She pulled him closer. “You gave me you. I love you.”

He grinned as he held her neck. “You are really sweet. Do you know that?”

She nodded babyishly.

The newly-weds spent the whole evening in their room. They had late lunch,
ordered late dinner, explored each other’s body and prayed in the Spirit before
going to bed.

The two-week honeymoon was maximally utilized with activities such as

skydiving which had Nifemi’s heart hanging in her throat, sea kayaking, sight-
seeing, shopping, romantic dinners and awesome love-makings.

The couple couldn’t seem to get enough of each other and they hoped that they
never do. They prayed that they would always crave for each other even as they
continue to crave for God.

339
 CHAPTER THIRTY

TIARAOLUWA WAS born exactly two years after Nifemi and Dara’s wedding, not
only that, she was born on their wedding anniversary—a day before Nifemi’s
birthday.

The childbirth experience was something neither Nifemi nor Dara would forget
in a hurry. Nifemi had some false labor alarm two weeks before the eventual
delivery—she had several contractions, though far apart. Dara had called her
obstetrician and narrated the experience to her—however, she assured them it
wasn’t time, and that the contractions were just false alarms. Nifemi wasn’t
having it though, she had cried that the baby was going to fall off any moment if
she wasn’t taken to the hospital immediately. She seemed to be in pain every ten
minutes and couldn’t sleep all through the night. Dara had to take her to the
hospital. The obstetrician ran a few checks on her, placed her on an hour
bedrest, and sent her back home afterwards.

Dara wished he could swap places with her when she eventually went into labor.
He had to stop her from pulling away all her clothing before she was wheeled
into the labor room. The baby didn’t come out even after two hours of labor.
Nifemi couldn’t keep her body down and she didn’t stop praying in tongues.

The doctor had said they would have to settle for a cesarean section if she didn’t
deliver the baby in another hour.

The couple didn’t stop praying in the Spirit and believing God for a natural birth.
The doctor had left the labor room and said he would be back in an hour to
prepare her for the CS if nothing changed.

Dara knelt by the bed, stroking his wife’s hair, and declaring the promises of God
concerning her, their baby and the delivery. Ten minutes later, Nifemi said she
wanted to use the toilet. Dara rang the nurses’ room. One of them came in, and
said it was the labor that was giving her that feeling—She instructed that Nifemi

340
remained on the bed. The nurse left the room after assuring them that the feeling
to use the toilet will soon go away.

Nifemi sprang up as soon as the nurse left the room and insisted she was going
to poo on the bed.

Dara tried to stop her and even attempted to help her down the bed. But she
resisted him, pulled up her hospital overall as she bent over and pushed out—

To the shock of Dara who almost passed out, it was the baby that fell off his
wife’s body. He hurried to the phone and rang the nurses’ “The baby! The baby!”
He cried.

The obstetrician and two nurses appeared in no time. One of the nurses carried
the baby off the bed in a wrap. The umbilical cord was cut off, the placenta taken
out, the baby and Nifemi were cleaned up. Dara held his wife’s hand the whole
time—stroking her hair, looking from her pale face to the crying face of their
newborn.

Newborn cries filled the room and Dara couldn’t stop the tears of relief and joy.
He turned his glossy eyes to his wife and in an almost broken voice, he told her
they had a beautiful daughter. Though exhausted, Nifemi smiled at her husband.
She looked away as she sighted their baby in the nurse’s arm; the baby was laid
on her bare skin. The moment the baby touched her skin, she began to cry the
sweetest tears she'd ever known, all the pain of the moments before melted away.
She drank in the moment—that moment with her little girl in her hands. Her
baby’s eyes were more brilliant than she could have dreamed they would be; her
hands were delicate. She felt so light, looked so perfect and smelt so divine. She
was a mother. She chuckled and looked to her husband. “You are a daddy now.”

Dara beamed. “She’s so beautiful—just like you.” He kissed his wife on the head
and kissed his baby too—his eyes closed as he drank in the fresh and sweet
smell of their little one—truly she smelt divine; He could literally smell the
presence of God all around her; they had picked the right name for her—
Tiaraoluwa—she was undeniably from God’s body.

341
 ***

“Daddy!” Ivie called out. She was about four years now—her beauty and
friendliness seemed to be increasing with time.

“Yes sweet” Bayo responded, looking from baby Tiara who was sleeping
peacefully in his arms to his daughter who stood by his legs, looking at the
newborn with admiration.

“Do you think Tiara would want to be my friend?”

Bayo smiled and put his arms around her shoulders. “Of course, my princess.
I’m sure Tiara would be more than excited to be your friend. But, you would have
to take care of her since you are older.”

Ivie nodded. “I know. I’m not going to let anyone hurt her.”

“That’s my princess!”

Dara walked into the living room with his dad behind him.

Bayo exchanged pleasantries with the older man.

Ivie handed the hand sanitizer to the man. “Use this sir. My mommy said
everyone has to use it before touching the baby.”

Dara and Bayo looked at each other and laughed.

“Thank you, cute one.” Dara’s dad said as he collected the sanitizer from Ivie and
applied some over his palm.

“My pleasure. Ivie said, leaning over her dad.”

Dara’s father chuckled at little Ivie’s maturity. He patted her on the back and
lifted the baby in his arms as he made himself comfortable beside Bayo.

Dara politely excused himself and went into the bedroom he shared with his wife.
Nifemi, Moyo, Uzo and Dara’s mother were all talking about pregnancy and
childbirth. Uzo’s baby boy was due to be born in a month. And though Moyo had
said she was done with having babies, she was six months pregnant with their
third child—something that had gotten her really mad when she first found out.
But now, she had come to terms with the reality of her pregnancy—she’d been
regular with her family planning medications, but somehow, the baby still found

342
its way into her womb—surely God had a purpose for the baby, and now she was
excited about having their third child.

The four women went out into the living room with Dara to greet his dad. Moyo
served the man some chicken and chips.

“So, we are now grandparents.” Dara’s father said to Dara’s mother. “I bless God
for this day. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I’m blessed! The same son
that I had rejected is the reason I’m now a believer, a happy father and a
grandfather.”

Ivie couldn’t explain why everyone looked suddenly solemn, and why a grandpa
and grandma had tears on their faces.

Mommy Kiki and Tito visited later that day—Kiki and Sope were in school.

Moyo didn’t leave her sister’s apartment until 10pm. Paul had come over with
the kids at about 5pm. They all had dinner with the Williams before leaving for
their own apartment—that was one of the advantages of living in the same estate.
The two sisters were grateful that though married, they could still be close to
each other. It was a miracle that they didn’t only get the mortgage, they were
both in the same building—though different wings and floors.

***

Obehi’s sister, Imade was now in three hundred level at the University of Benin
studying Mass Communication—her education was being sponsored by Bayo
and Uzo. However, she’d won a scholarship in her second year that covered both
her tuition and accommodation. Apart from doing amazingly well in her studies,
she was also doing well in her relationship with God—actively pursuing God in
all areas of her life. For almost four years the thought to make Obehi’s journals
into a book had not left her mind. Just about a year ago she started the book—
she didn’t think herself a writer, but she was convinced this was one book God
wanted her to write. She made the book into a daily devotional for teens, adding
some lessons she had also learnt in her personal work with God and taking
inputs from Uzo, Nifemi, Dara and Bayo. It took about one year to get the one-
year devotional written, edited and published. Dara also made the devotional
into an app. Together, the two couples and Imade started a teenage ministry
named, THE COMPLETE TEEN—TCT. The ministry encompassed creating

343
inspiring articles on their official website, short videos, and chat rooms on social
media—listening and offering counsel to teens. They also offered educational
scholarships to teenagers in need of education funding. Aside Imade, the teen
who played violin, Fiola, was one of the first five teenagers to benefit from the
scholarship. The couples continued to pay a percentage of their monthly income
into the education funding account. It is true what the scripture says;

Proverbs 19:17; When you give to the poor, it is like lending to the LORD,
and the LORD will pay you back.

This had been true as they continued to see the hands of God in their finance—
expanding their businesses and advancing their careers—His hands promoting
them and making it possible for them to give even more.

The couples continued to actively seek God in all areas of their lives, keeping
Him at the center of their lives, marriage and relationships, and though they
experienced a few challenges as they journeyed through life, they were
intentional about remaining in God’s presence—and so, they continued to
experience the fullness of joy—and when the chips went down, the joy of the Lord
was their strength.

THE END!!!

344
 APPENDIX-BIBLE
REFERENCE

CHAPTER FOUR

1. John 6:37
2. Jeremiah 31:3

CHAPTER SEVEN

1. 1Corinthians 10:23

CHAPTER EIGHT

1. Revelation 12:11
2. I Timothy 6:12
3. Romans 6:11
4. Galatians 5:1
5. Galatians 5:1
6. Ephesians 2:8
7. 2 Peter 1:3

CHAPTER ELEVEN

1. Philippians 4:13
2. Matthew 19:26
3. Mark 9:23
4. Philippians 4:13
5. Hosea 4:6

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

345
 1. Romans 8:28
2. James 1:17

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

1. Philippians 4:19

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

1. Romans 8:28

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

1. Philippians 4:6; 1 Peter 5:7

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

1. Philippians 1:6
2. 1 John 3:16a
3. Romans 3:23

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

1. Numbers 13:33

CHAPTER NINETEEN

1. 1 Thessalonians 5:22
2. Matthew 4:3
3. Psalm 84:11
4. Matthew 4:1-11
5. 1 Thessalonians 5:22

346
 6. Romans 8:14
7. Romans 12:1
8. Luke 1:37

CHAPTER TWENTY

1. Psalm 91:16

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

1. Romans 5:5

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

1. Psalm 84:11

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

1. Psalm 16:6
2. Ecclesiastes 3:11
3. 2 Corinthians 12:9
4. Ephesians 3:20
5. 2 Timothy 1:7
6. Philippians 1:6
7. Zechariah 4:6

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

1. Philippians 3:12

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

1. Proverbs 19:29
2. Proverbs 17:10
3. Psalm 16:11, Nehemiah 8:10

347
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

1. Isaiah 1:19
2. Genesis 39:2-3

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

1. Isaiah 53; Romans 3:24-26; Psalm 103:10-12; Isaiah 1:18

2. Romans 5:5; 2 Corinthians 12:9
3. John 10:10
4. Isaiah 26:3

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

1. Ephesians 5:19

348
349