“He said what?” Ronke screamed, spitting out a bit of her shawarma in the process. “Why, that pompous, good-for-nothing oaf! What is it with these men, anyway?”
“I don’t know oh.” Femi answered her best friend, still hurt by Fiyin’s words from last Saturday.
“Oh, dear, don’t be like that.” Ronke comforted her, grabbing her forearms that were resting on the table. “See, I swear, men are just naturally stupid, seriously, see Ben for example, do you think he’s okay?” She questioned speaking of her husband of 18 months. “Just the other day, the idiot told me I was getting too fat, me oh?” She wondered, getting up from the table to get more shawarma from the kitchen.
Femi couldn’t help laughing, Ronke really had gotten fat, her friend who had always been petite and weighed less than 50 kilograms was now soundly round. Of course, her 3 months old pregnancy had a lot to do with that. Because Ronke was tiny, immediately she got pregnant, it was very obvious and now at 3 months, she already looked over 5 months pregnant.
“Imagine Ben oh! Who put me in this condition?” Ronke was saying as she came back to the sitting room with doughnuts in her mouth, fresh shawarma, groundnuts, chocolate and meat pie in the tray she was holding. She gave Femi the tray before lowering her bulk into the love seat she just vacated.
“Don’t eat my stuff jor,” she dragged her tray from Femi, “go and take your own in the kitchen, imagine wanting a pregnant woman to run errands for you.”
Femi giggled at the way Ronke was eating, happy to see her friend so healthy and glowing. She and Ronke had been friends since their second year at the University of Ilorin. She studying primary Education and Ronke, History. They had eventually started rooming together in their second year and remained best friends till now.
She had been the one to stand by Ronke when her parents had refused to allow her marry Ben, her long-time boyfriend because he was from Benue state. They had wanted her to find a perfectly nice Yoruba boy but Ronke had been adamant on marrying Ben, the guy who had proven himself over and over again.
It took Femi’s intervention and Ronke’s uncles for them to eventually agree. Femi knew for a fact that Ben, a Federal civil servant in Abuja was extremely kind, courteous and loving and was truly deserving of the prize that was Ronke. Femi had been maid of honour at their wedding and although she loved Ben, she had been desperately sad to see Ronke relocate to Abuja.
Now, Ronke’s parents couldn’t be happier. It was hard to be around the couple without seeing their love, commit and dedication to and for one another. And even though she was fatter and bulging, if Ronke looked any more beautiful than she did in that moment, then it would be disastrous. She was just glowing from good health and contentment.
When Femi realised she had been selected as one of the teachers to represent the school at the Teachers conference in Abuja, she had immediately called Ronke who was delighted for her to come. They hadn’t had a chance to meet and talk since Ronke got pregnant and was not permitted to travel anymore. Femi had come and stayed the entire time at their house, saving the money given to her for hotel to enjoy a good quality week with her friend or as much as she could of the week when she wasn’t at the conference.
“But, babe, you know your dressing culture is not improving, right?” Ronke asked her friend softly.
“How? You said I should buy more colours that went with my complexion, that’s what I’m doing..”
“…and style, Femi! Style! Why must you always wear these loose, baggy gowns? You’re the one letting that Doctor whatever talk to you anyhow, imagine! He and Tiwa should plan a wedding. With their filthy mouths! And that orange lipstick! It makes my eye water just looking at it! If I say wear flashy colours, am I referring to orange and purple?”
Your eyes water at everything now” Femi answered her, unsmiling.
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