She held still because I had a knife
“Why you kill am? en? mumu why you kill my pinky?” I asked her, demanding immediate reply. She replied so fast I could hardly make little of what she said. Then, I remember what made her reply that fast, I held a knife to her. I would have collapsed or read psalm 119 over and over again for about five times if I was in her shoes. I released her and concentrated on the pepper in the bowl. I gave her enough time to regain herself while I added maggi, salt and other necessary ingredients to the soup which had started tantalizing my nose.
“I was so hungry I.. I needed something to eat and.. and right in front of me stood pinky, looking at me and teasing my tommy with her fleshy laps! I had to do something
“Titi said in a tone that said (I’m sorry).. Please Titi, spare me the saliva abeg we have something better to do than discuss about a chicken that is already cooked” I replied.
She understood my words quicker than I thought and kept quiet. I mentioned something about ‘my ex-boyfriend’ earlier? Yeah I did. You must have wondered how come I had an ex when I said earlier on that I had never felt something for a guy. Well, my ex wasn’t actually ‘my ex’. He was just my personal ‘ATM’. I never loved him. I only agreed to date him because he promised to give me 10,000 naira every two weeks. Of cause now I be Naija girl I no fit dull myself. He gave me so many things. He took me out almost all the time. The final gift he gave me before I broke up with him was, a pink feathered hen. How much I valued that hen. Then I couldn’t keep up anymore and had to tell him I wanted out. (He deserves better than me) I had thought. And that was that about him and the story behind my mysterious pinkylicious.. That night I had chicken for supper was one of the best for me. I slept like a baby.
*knock! Knock!! Knock!!!*. I opened my eyes and stood up reluctantly.
“Who is it?” I enquired as I got down from our bunk bed.
“It’s me Bose, open up”
Now that voice sounded familiar, I opened the door. Standing right before my very eyes was..
“Thunder fire you!” was the next thing I said.
“Good morning to you too, I guess that how you greet an old friend isn’t it?”
I went all dumb.. (Who is this I’m looking at early in the morning? Oh! This is bad). I thought.
She held still because I had a knife
“Why you kill am? en? mumu why you kill my pinky?” I asked her, demanding immediate reply. She replied so fast I could hardly make little of what she said. Then, I remember what made her reply that fast, I held a knife to her. I would have collapsed or read psalm 119 over and over again for about five times if I was in her shoes. I released her and concentrated on the pepper in the bowl. I gave her enough time to regain herself while I added maggi, salt, and other necessary ingredients to the soup which had started tantalizing my nose.
“I was so hungry I.. I needed something to eat and.. and right in front of me stood pinky, looking at me and teasing my tommy with her fleshy laps! I had to do something
“Titi said in a tone that said (I’m sorry).. “Please Titi, spare me the saliva abeg we have something better to do than discuss about a chicken that is already cooked” I replied.
She understood my words quicker than I thought and kept quiet. I mentioned something about ‘my ex-boyfriend’ earlier? Yeah I did. You must have wondered how come I had an ex when I said earlier on that I had never felt something for a guy. Well, my ex wasn’t actually ‘my ex’. He was just my personal ‘ATM’. I never loved him. I only agreed to date him because he promised to give me 10,000 naira every two weeks. Of cause now I be Naija girl I no fit dull myself. He gave me so many things. He took me out almost all the time. The final gift he gave me before I broke up with him was, a pink feathered hen. How much I valued that hen. Then I couldn’t keep up anymore and had to tell him I wanted out. (He deserves better than me) I had thought. And that was that about him and the story behind my mysterious pinkylicious.. That night I had chicken for supper was one of the best for me. I slept like a baby.
*knock! Knock!!Knock!!!*. I opened my eyes and stood up reluctantly.
“Who is it?” I enquired as I got down from our bunk bed.
“It’s me Bose, open up”
Now that voice sounded familiar, I opened the door. Standing right before my very eyes was..
“Thunder fire you!” was the next thing I said.
“Good morning to you too, I guess that how you greet an old friend isn’t it?”
I went all dumb.. (Who is this I’m looking at early in the morning? Oh! This is bad). I thought.
Flames of Love is written by: Olaleye-Otunla Tolani
Facebook: Olaleye-Otunla Tolani
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