Monday Evening Gist

“Tell that to a non-believer. My brother dey go hear. Tell that shit to any hater. Shey I no be millionaire? My brother dey go hear wehhh... Pull up in a Benzo.” This was what Titi’s neighbors could hear from her studio apartment on that wet, insipid Monday evening. She should have been lollygagging or watching TV, but all her gallivanting over the weekend had left her no time to clean her eclectic apartment.

There were colors everywhere, books scattered in every corner, big and little plants that she desperately needed to water, and Mr. Sprinkles, her gigantic stuffed animal, on the couch, judging her. She waved at him, looked around, and blushed. She really did love her apartment.

She was about to start doing the dishes when she heard loud, frantic hammering on the door. “What the hell?” she cursed under her breath. “Egabami! Talo shi werey leh?” she thought, her mind racing as she turned down the music and rushed to the door.

She opened it and stepped back, gobsmacked, wiping her wet hands hastily on the side of her Hello Kitty shorts. The ever-impeccable Dara stood at the door, looking like she had been attacked by a wild animal.

She was drenched, makeup smeared all over her face, wearing nothing but a bra top with one strap missing. Her feet were bare, her eyes bloodshot, and one of her expensive wigs, which had once been glued neatly to her scalp, was now tangled in her hands as though hairbrushes had suddenly disappeared from the world.

“Jesus is Lord! Guy, what happened? Come in, come in!”

“Titi, please. The taxi outside, I need change.”

After Dara returned from paying the taxi, “Thank you” was all she could manage before stumbling to the corner of the room, collapsing into one of the small wooden chairs, shaking like she had just walked into a freezer.

Titi stood silently for a moment, unsure what to say. Comforting people wasn’t really her forte. But after a few moments, she walked over and handed Dara a glass of water. “Guy, here you go, please drink some water.” Dara took the glass with shaky hands and drank slowly. After a few gulps, she set it down and immediately burst into tears.

“Calm down, ehn. What happened? You can talk to me.”

Dara sniffled. “So... so, you remember Yinka?”

“Yinka...? The amebo one? Or is it Mr. Stingy?”

“No, the cute-lips one, the one I met at the club."

“Ohhh, Mr. Promoter! Yes, yes, I remember. Did he do this to you??”

“No, he didn’t. We were robbed.”

Titi listened as Dara began recounting the whole ordeal. As she spoke, she took breaks to drink water and occasionally muttered, "Can you imagine, big babe like me." Apparently, Dara had been actively seeing and spending time with Mr. Promoter and had taken today off from her shop to “relax.” They were just about to sit down to eat the smoky jollof rice and turkey she had prepared when they heard a knock on the door.

Mr. Promoter was confused as to who it might be, as he wasn’t expecting anyone. But with his job and lifestyle, random visitors weren’t out of the question. However, to his shock, when he opened the door, he was met with three hefty men in balaclavas who rushed him back into the house, holding a pistol to his head.

Dara, confused by the commotion at the door, thought to check but was greeted with a resounding slap and told to get on her knees. "I might have to go see Dr. Frank, Titi. My left ear is still ringing," she said, rubbing her ears and crying for the hundredth time.

As the narration by Dara went on, Titi made sure to respond occasionally with dramatic “AHH, EWOO! WHAT!!” followed by strings of shocked phrases like, "But these armed robbers are getting bold, oh, in BROAD DAYLIGHT?" “Mr. Promoter must be owing someone money, or maybe he offended someone. Eyah, Pele."

The robbers ransacked the place, taking everything - cash, perfumes, watches, and every other valuable they could find, including foodstuffs. At that point, Dara finally got up, the first movement since she’d arrived, and shuffled over to the pantry. She pulled out an Indomie noodle packet, holding it up. “They even took Indomie! Who steals Indomie?”

Titi chuckled at the sight, shaking her head. “Well, you were lucky your phone is all they took... But then what happened with your wig? And how are you so wet?” Titi asked, folding her hands.

“After they packed everything to their satisfaction, they blindfolded me and Mr. Promoter and threw us into separate cars. It was while I was struggling to free myself that one of the robbers slapped me again and yanked off the wig.”

“YE!”

“Can you imagine? Telling me that e be like say the weavon way I attach for head don carry my sense!”

“But you should have not done that. That was not very smart.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to let them cart me off to somewhere unknown. I must confess I was shocked that they even threw the wig out the window once they bundled me out of the boot.”

The robbers had thrown her into the gutter, and she had stayed there for almost an hour, covering her face in embarrassment, until the taxi man tapped her and asked if she was okay. She then begged to be dropped at Titi’s house, as it was the nearest place she could get help.

After a couple of hours, Dara had calmed down enough, so Titi offered to drive her home. She also called a locksmith, since Dara's keys were nowhere to be found. “Take it easy, please. I’ll check on you tomorrow,"  Titi reassured her before driving off, nearly choking on the laughter she had been holding in for the last couple of hours.

Immediately, she pulled out her phone and left a voice note for Tade. "This guy, what the hell did you do?"

Sage Roses ❁