THE CHAT ROOM : PART 1 – 10
PART 5
Temi Akintade
Bose was the first person who told me that she had gotten admission to study nursing.
She said she was going to the school of nursing instead of the university. She told me via a message she sent to my phone that Sunday morning.
THE CHAT ROOM : PART 1 – 10
Later, I found myself, staring at my blank message screen. I kept typing and erasing. I didn’t know what to tell her.
To tell her that I have now gotten admission into the College of Education? I shook my head. I didn’t want to so I sent her a good luck message instead and prepared for service.
Service at the teens’ church was exciting as usual maybe it was because I was with my phone, chatting with Tayo who didn’t go to church that morning.
Soon it was time for testimonies and the teenagers who were mostly around my age were thanking God for admission into the university.
They were excited but I wasn’t as excited as Ariyo, the perfect girl in our teen church the one who always covered her hair and wore no makeup unlike us.
She was the one who gave a testimony that she got admission to study medicine at the University of Portharcourt.
Maybe her obedience paid off after all. But then, I reminded myself that it wasn’t by obedience. Tayo had told me that they were just lucky that is all.
I got up to share a testimony too. I told them that I gained admission to the University of Abuja to study social studies.
Nobody clapped only our teacher clapped. It was as though the teenagers felt that all the other courses that are not medicine, engineering, or nursing were not good.
And so I resumed College of Education with the idea that I was not reading a good course. But there was nothing I could do.
“Complete my assignment and submit them by next week good day!” Mallam Usman Shehu our general studies lecturer walked out of the class decked in his plain white kaftan attire.
He was a dark-skinned Kaduna state man. Although my new friend and roommate who was in NCE 2, a year above me said, the man was a chronic womanizer.
I wasn’t sure of what chronic womanizer meant until I heard how he had denied a lady from graduating because she didn’t offer herself on his altar.
I told Tayo about this and he replied that the man would not see me in Jesus name. I said Amen to it.
He also told me that he has shifted his coming to December. That his parents wanted him home by Christmas so that they could celebrate his 25th birthday as well.
I was leaving Mallam Usman’s class for the dormitory when someone called my name. I turned to see a guy racing after me.
When he drew close, I realized that he bore a certain kind of semblance with Kevin Hart the actor I always read about on the internet.
He had firm round lips, almond-shaped eyes, dark polished skin, broad shoulders but quite short.
I was certain that I was some few inches taller than him. It irked me that I was standing in front of a short guy.
“What is it?” I said as if to dismiss him.
“I’m Frank by name. I am a social studies student of NCE 3. I am taking a carryover course in your class.” He paired as if to let that sink in then he continued. “I was the one who sat beside you in class.”
I shrugged. “So?”
“I uhm, I just wanted to invite you for fellowship. I would very much like it if you are in attendance.” He said.
I nodded and turned to leave.
“Wait please.” He scratched his head, and with a tone of confidence he said, “I would very much like it if we are friends.”
He released a small smile which made him look even more handsome than I thought. Before I knew it, I found myself comparing him with Tayo.
“I have a boyfriend.”
He chuckled and slid his hands into his pocket. “Having a boyfriend is different from having a friend. We can be friends right?”
“Sure.”
We exchanged numbers and I left for the hostel.
THE CHAT ROOM : PART 1 – 10
Later that evening, when Tayo and I were having our night chats, I told him about Frank and he warned me to stay away from him.
But then, I wasn’t even sure if I would listen to what he was saying because Frank looked harmless.
Soon, we rounded up our first semester, and it was December break.
Tayo finally came home and we fixed a date to meet. He said that we were going to meet at his house since all of his family members traveled to the village.
I agreed. And on the 25th of December, despite all the warnings our teenage teacher gave concerning girls and boys who celebrated the wrong kind of love and destroyed themselves on that day, I ignored my teenage teacher and stepped into Lion’s den.
I didn’t know that the Lion was going to bit me in the end.
Dressed in my tight black skirt and wine coloured blouse, I stood in front of Tayo’s parent’s flat at First Avenue. It was the street where wealthy people lived. I knocked on the huge brown door and quickly smoothened my curly weave.
It was the weave that my mother had bought for me for the Christmas season she claimed that a colleague of hers who sold human hair, brought it for her.
Finally, the door opened, and standing before me was Tayo in flesh and blood. He looked nothing like the pictures I had seen on Facebook.
There was something about his face that made me want to run to the restroom to check my makeup because I didn’t want to ruin my moments with a fine tall Yoruba boy.
He looked nothing like the teenage boys in my church. He looked nothing like Frank. He was tall and his skin complexion was caramel brown, not ebony dark.
His lips were firm and round and his nose pointed. He carried his broad shoulders with poise and a certain kind of gait that handsome boys had. An ‘air of pride’.
Then I felt small.
Even when he pulled me into his arms as soon as he locked the door to their beautiful home, I felt unworthy to be pressed into his arms like that.
And when his lips found mine, I melted and forgot about everything…including my teenage teacher’s warnings.
THE CHAT ROOM : PART 1 – 10
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