Tseju's Bayo

Chapter Five

The sun rays reflecting on the beige and rose gold walls of the guest room appeared to be having full blown dance rehearsals, the wavy lines crisscrossed the walls of the room, perhaps dancing to the chirp chirp of the blue birds that had built a civilization on the humongous Mango tree towering over the five bedroom duplex the Rotimi’s called home.

The show was completely lost to the only spectator of the glorious display Tseju who lay face up on the thick MM double fluffed bed. To an oblivious onlooker, the ceiling appeared bare, but to Tseju, the ceiling was a projector screen on which her mind played and replayed every single moment that had passed since she met Bayo.

It was two weeks since when he came honking - literally - into her life and she knew how cliché it sounded, but it felt like they’d known each other for ever. They’d grown so close, so close that uncle Mide - her aunt’s husband – had taken up a new hobby; teasing her about her African Oyimbo.

Ah, Uncle Mide. Her aunt’s husband who just so happened to be Tseju's part-time bestie. Long story short, the man was just awesome!

“You and this your young man, when did you start hiding secrets from your 3rd bestie eh?” Uncle Mide began, putting a dramatic show of emotion. They were seated in the parlour, uncle Mide on the single armchair that was colored a dark shade of chocolate, Tseju adjacent to him on a red and white striped sofa. He continued lamenting his fate, quite dramatically, “Woe is I, how they grow and forget the hands that…” Drawing in a sharp breath, he exclaimed “Ade come down from that table this instant!”

This was followed by a “Yes daddie.” So low, you’d almost miss hearing it.

Tseju turned just in time to see Ade indeed climbing down from the dining table. He quickly skedaddled out of the room. He looked sorry, but he couldn’t help it. Mischief was his middle name, and Tseju fully expected him to look for another daredevil feat to carry out.

“Ehen as I was saying,” Uncle Mide continued, “They forget the hands that fed them, shoulder that they cried on after break ups…”

“It was one break up uncle Mide. Haba! Nothing is going on between me and …” She never got to finish that statement, which is good because she was blatantly lying. A scream erupting from inside the house, in the direction where the boys were playing signaled the end of this particular conversation and both Tseju and uncle Mide raced in the direction of the scream, hearts in their mouths in expectancy of the mayhem that had occurred this time.

Crush BOO: To the girl whose fave kept me from reading Loci 566 last night, good morning ❤️❤️

Yes, she changed his caller ID again, she just couldn’t help herself.

Me: 😶😶😶😶😶errr... morning Bayo. Plus, you can't prove anything 😏😏

No way was she calling him crush boo. But this one sef, she was trying so hard not to catch feelings, but he kept bludgeoning her with sweetness upon sweetness. If he continued at this rate, she’d have diabetes before the year ran out. Sigh. The man was hot sha. If only she knew his IG handle, she’d have all his photos on her phone. He’d even be her wallpaper. No, she didn’t have feelings for him, he was just very hot. It was just madness to fall in love with a Yoruba demon. Every sane Nigerian girl knew that.

Crush BOO: So, I was thinking…

Me: Uh huh?

Crush BOO: I’d like to meet your uncle.

It was a cool evening oh, breeze was blowing well well. So Tseju was wondering why the house felt so hot. Or maybe it was just her. It was probably just her. Geez, why was she so nervous? There was no rational reason to be. Yes, Bayo came over to meet her uncle and aunt officially, that wasn’t something to be nervous about was it? God, it was hot. Or maybe it was the dress she was wearing. Why didn’t he tell her he planned on asking her out on a date? The RAT!