Improvised Plan #ProjectNigeria

3- Something Unconventional

Saheed:

When I wake up, it is noon and it feels like I need to purchase a new head. The headache is intense, much worse than the one I had experienced when Maduka, a former rival, had punched me in the face one fateful night for things I'd rather not talk about.

My eyes, are assaulted by the sunlight coming in from the huge windows. Hissing like a vampire in one of those teenage dramas, I stagger towards them and pull the curtains one by one, sighing in relief when my suite becomes dim. My mouth and throat feel parched, making me move towards the table where I usually keep a jug of distilled water and some glass cups. I am surprised to see two glasses of what looks like milkshake.

I'll send up room service with a banana and honey milkshake to help you.

"Olaedo," I murmur. A smile comes to my lips, but it dies off instantly when her face doesn't come to my mind. With a shrug, I hungrily gulp the two glasses of banana and honey milkshake and settle down on one of the chairs to clear my head.

I remember she had wide, brown eyes. I remember the sound of her voice. Low and smooth. I remember that she spoke with sarcasm. She'd called me stupid.

It takes a few minutes for the drinks to improve my condition. Grateful, I make a mental note to consult reception for Miss Ola's contact so I can thank her personally.

I had been in a bad place yesterday. However, it wasn't enough justification for my self-destructive actions. The huge argument I had with my father had thrown me into mental chaos, especially when he had called me a disappointment and wished he'd never had me...

Bury it. You should be used to this by now.

I find myself wondering what I'm supposed to be doing with myself on this vacation. My family is scattered all over Lagos, and my mother... I haven't seen her in years.

Your mother is gone. For you. After what happened.

That is what Baba had told me, what I had come to know. The divorce happened when I was eleven. Of course, we spoke over the phone a few unpleasant times, but I never visited because my father and I had moved to the United States immediately.

And yesterday, earlier, I had seen her.

Queen.

I have moved on. I have accepted my fate, that despite our likeness, we were never meant for each other. But seeing her, carrying a baby close to her heart, had cracked the resolve I have steadily built up over the past few years.

She has a child. With him.

Queen had been looking down at the infant as she stood close to the road. I had been driving through Alausa, and for the first time in four years, I had seen her. I hadn't been able to watch, but from my rear view mirror after I zoomed past, a car had stopped right in front of her and she had moved to get in.

It got me thinking about my life in ways I hadn't even known existed in my mind. It made memories flood in, memories that I had shut out for the sake of my sanity.

And all I could think about after those two encounters, was to find a way to forget everything that had happened yesterday. No appetite, but I was ready to drink, party, and possibly hook up until my legs gave out underneath me. Cue, the painkillers for my migraine and an hour later, alcohol. I hadn't called Jide to go along with me, because Jide would have tried to stop me from wearing myself out.

It takes me an hour to get dressed and leave my suite. A flowery shirt in white and pink over brown slacks, brown leather sandals and a black fedora resting on my head, give me the look I want today. Casual, but classy.