by *Opeyeoluwa Lawal*

It was a lonely ride to her Banana Island residence. Loneliness was her new name. it was possible to be around people and still be lonely. She had never believed this. Now, it was her reality. Thanks to her job and connections, she was able to afford a place on the Island where houses were paid for in dollars.  It was private and she shared street with some of the top celebrities and politicians in the country.  The Island was well known for its high profile residence.

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She had not anticipated the traffic on the Third Mainland Bridge.  Musa, the gate man opened the gate and she drove in immediately. She loved the fact that Musa was observant. She didn’t have to honk. She was in no mood for all that. She was yet to fix the automatic transmission feature of the gate.  Tired, she spent some minutes in her car considering if this house was worth it after all. Did she really want to be home? Was this even home? Should she go to her parents? That didn’t seem a bad idea. At least, she would be with her siblings and her mum. Even though her mum would come up with the whole marriage talk thing. She wasn’t ready for all that.

Being the second born of her family of six, Mojirade was privileged to start school at a tender age. She was smart, she enjoyed the benefit of skipping some classes on the basis of double promotion exams. She was also ambitious. Right from her tender age, she always wanted to be a banker. Things were rosy. She didn’t understand suffering. She didn’t understand why some of her classmates were chased out for not paying school fees. Her father had turned up in the area of school fees.

He was a retired accountant from one of the top government parastatals. He earned well while in active service. Her mum was an accomplished teacher. As ‘omo Teacher’ (Teacher’s daughter), she had no choice but to be super intelligent.

It was no surprise she graduated University at the age of 19. Everything was set. Through her father’s influence, she had gotten the opportunity to carry out her internship in RainWay Bank. The staff all loved her because she was young. She watched the bankers and her ambitious nature rose. Her father didn’t believe God would help anyone achieve anything. He believed you work to earn. He believed we get what we worked for. Her mother was of a different opinion.

Mojirade’s mum was a Christian to the core. A normal Christian mother. However, her father’s unserious dedication to the things of God affected her mother’s dedication. Her mother believed that whatever a man has came from God. She believed it was by the grace of God a man is able to gather riches and wealth.

Moji, upon deciding to pick sides, stuck with her dad’s opinions. Afterall, she was smart and beautiful. Her father made so much money. Her mother, on the other hand, who believed in God’s benevolence didn’t earn so much as a teacher.  That much was obvious, one person was more successful than the other. She would rather stick with the more successful party. She would rather work her way to riches and affluence than wait for a God that didn’t understand human hustle.  She had a good mind to inform her mum about recent happenings.

Moji opened the door and heard a ‘Welcome madam’ to which she gave no response.  Splitting headache was an understatement. She went upstairs. straight to her bedroom and slept off.  What a day it had been!

“Arrrrgh… please leave me alone. I beg of you what do you want from me?” She screamed from her sleep. “I want your life! You are my wife”.

Said the fierce looking man.

“No. Why would you want me? I don’t want to be your wife.”

At that, the man gave her a slap. It was a painful one. Moji woke up abruptly from her sleep with her and on her cheek and tears dropping for my eyes. It was more than real. This man was tormenting her. In tears, she struggled out of the bed. This was getting out of hand. She sat on the bare tiled floor. Her blue satin two-piece nightwear glowed in the brightly lit and well aired room.

Who was she to call now? Her mother? Certainly not a good idea. What would she tell her?  Her friends? She had told Bimbo and Tracy and all they did was call it a nightmare. They laughed at her and said it could be her mind playing games on her or she had been hallucinating. They advised that she went to the club to relax

“Babe. Go out and have yourself a good time. Work is telling on you.” Bimbo had said.

“Exactly. You have turn to dreamer.” Tracy added.

“When was the last time you had sex, girl?” Bimbo said.

“Been a while…” Moji had responded.

“You see. That’s the issue. Go have fun girl. You only live once you know.”

She reminisced on that conversation. Maybe that would work. She looked at the time. It was just 11 p.m. She took off her nightwear and went straight to the bathroom. She took a quick shower and moved over to the wardrobe.

She picked out a red sequined short Zara dress and put it on. It was perfect for a night out. She put on her makeup though not enough but enough to cover her eye bags.  She picked up a pair of black sandals along with a matching purse. She looked into the lomg dressing mirror. The mirror was vintage.

‘Moji, you’ll be alright. Las Las”. She said to her reflection.

It was going to be a good night for her. Hopefully, tonight all her problems would be over. Maybe her friends were right after all. Maybe she was having those dreams because she had not been with a man in a long time. There and then, off to club 407 she went.

Written by Opeyeoluwa Lawal.
OPEYEOLUWA is a Christian writer who has been called to write to encourage people in times of weariness according to Isaiah 50:4. Ope, as she is fondly called loves God and His works. She loves to teach and she researches during her spare time. She is married to Olawale Perfect.

Follow ope on IG : @opestarlawal
Facebook: opeyeoluwa opestar Ajayi
Twitter: @opeyeoluwalawal

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