She nodded, blinked away something that looked like tears, and stepped out of the car.
Inside the house, Inemesit was over the moon.
She laid out her new clothes on the couch in the sitting room — the green dress here, the blue one there, the red one carefully draped over a chair. She tried on the shoes, walking around the sitting room to test them. She held the handbag up to the light, admiring the way it caught the glow from the window.
“Emmanuel, look!” she called out, holding up the gold necklace. “It sparkles!”
I leaned against her doorframe, watching her with a smile.
“It does,” I said.
She was about to say something else when my phone rang.
The screen glowed with a name I had not expected to see tonight.
Kola calling.
“I need to take this,” I said to Inemesit.
She nodded, gathered her new things, and exited to her room, still humming that Akwa Ibom gospel song.
I walked over a couch and sat down and answered the call.
“My brother!” Kola’s voice boomed through the speaker. “How far? How many points you don score with that baddest girl?”
I sighed.
“Kola, I dey win her two zero,”
I lied.
There was no point explaining the truth. Men like Kola — men who measured everything in wins and losses, in points and scores — they did not understand things like emotional connection or respect or the slow, uncertain process of learning to see someone as more than a body.
“Two zero? My brother! Na my coaching be that o! You suppose dash me something!”
🔥💖OGA I WAN KNACK💖 – EPISODE TEN – A DIFFERENT KIND OF FIRE 💖🔥
