ADESUWA (Short Story Series)

Two men in pale coloured oversized shirts stood between me and the table. The table had the tray that held sexy slices of yams.
The man just ahead of me concluded his deal and moved. I stepped forward. I thought I heard the man beside me say "Give me eight hundred naira own".. I looked at the quantity of slices. My heart skipped. I dreaded the thought of having to wait for the next batch.

---

When ten slices were neatly placed in the black plastic bag and tied, I realised I had mistaken his hundred for eight hundred. I exhaled.

Adesuwa wasn't here. I wasn't expecting her anyways. She only came here on Saturday nights. Her mom hated to have her help out. Mom hated to see men with pale clothes chyke her daughter. And even if Adesuwa always found the whole thing funny, mom thought otherwise.

Infact lately she had sternly warned her to stay clear. Personally, I had always been puzzled at how Adesuwa was able to happily stay there at night, frying and setting the yams. A smile set on her face. It was easy for me to fall in love with her.

We hadn't talked for two weeks and a day. Frankly, it seemed like three months.

"Bros, how much should I put for you" Grace interrupted my flow of thoughts. I wanted to ask her how she was and talk casually, but the impatient face of the man standing behind me corrected me.
"Put two hundred"

Grace was Adesuwa's younger sister. She was fifteen. She didn't look fifteen anyway. She looked like the bigger version of Adesuwa. Tall. Broad shoulders. Chubby cheeks.

After handing over my stuff to me, I beckoned on her to see me briefly. She told the little boy to cover up for her. I wasn't able to identify the boy and I didn't care anyway.

As we stepped into a the place where the lantern's light stopped, I exhaled slowly.

image source

"Have you talked to her?", I asked.
Grace couldn't hold my gaze. While she bent staring at the sand, she told me that Adesuwa had shouted her off and told her not to mention me again. I thanked her coldly and left her in the dark.

Anger welled up in me.
What was wrong with me?
Why was I so bothered about this girl?
Why did I fall so deep in love with her in the first place?
It's obvious she never cared.

If she did, how could she hold on to the sulking for this long?
As the anger rose, guilt came with it.
I stepped on a sachet water that had been pumped with air. It made a sound that toggled me back to reality.

Malo by Tiwa Savage boomed from the speakers in the bar beside me.

image source

My phone beeped. I thought I had left it at home.
The number was a bit familiar. Very familiar. Very very familiar. Then I remembered I had deleted Adesuwa's contact from my phone in a fit of rage days ago.

#Adesuwa

#fiction