My first love was my mother and my
second love was my smart phone. Mum
bought me my mobile phone (first phone i
ever used) during my birthday, last three
years. I practically went everywhere with
my smart phone. I slept with it lying on
my chest most nights, i went for dates
with it and i even usually go to the toilet
with it. Infact, there was a time it had
mistakenly dropped inside our water closet
while i was holding it and “doing
business”. That was the day i thought it
would die, but luckily for me, after i picked
it out of the closet, removed the battery
immediately, sun-ed it and hid it under the
bag of rice in our store, i fixed back the
battery and pushed the power button and
Viola! It worked!

It had been a very loyal and faithful lover,
up till last 2 weeks when it decided to jilt
me. I felt so depressed and heart broken
but when my mum asked me to go to the
market to check for the price of a
moderate phone she could afford, I was so
happy. I quickly wore my “skin tight”
trouser and a blouse to match, did light
makeup, carried my handbag and left for
the phone market, ecstatic.
When i got to the market, i was very
disappointed. They said the price of dollar
had increased and hence price of phones
had also increased. All the phones i had in
mind were all above my 100k mark and i
was expecting mum to give me 70k while i
added the last 30k i had to my name. I
was about leaving one of the phone shop
outlets i had been haggling prices, to head
back home and think of a way to get
additional money, when he met me.
“Good afternoon missus” He said with a
lovely smile.

I looked back and our eyes met. He was
dark skinned, averagely tall and had a
slightly concealed yoruba mark on his left
cheek. Even with his polished English, you
wouldn’t need an “expo” to tell he was
yoruba. I have a couple of yoruba friends
but there was just something different
about him that made him seem distinct
from my male yoruba friends. I still haven’t
been able to place that “something”.
Ordinarilly, i usually snob stranger’s that
try to talk to me on the road. This is lagos,
computer village at that. No one trusts
anyone, especially during this festive
period when horrid tales abound.
“Good afternoon sir” i replied politely,
returning his smile.
I quickly sized him up. He should be
wearing close to 400k on him. His shoes
and suit were Italian. His wrist watch,
although slightly concealed, was an
expensive piece of rolex and he wore a
perfume that smelled expensive. He was
dangling his car key with his left small
“I was just stepping out, and i was
wondering if you might be going my
direction. I could drop you off with ease”
he began, still smilling.

To be continued


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