(Please note: Characters are made up from my cute little brain, I don’t want wahala)
Sonder - “The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own…..”
Faramade Fisher ❁
Mr. Kosoko, please! I’m begging you!” Fara cried, clutching his shirt.
“Get your hands off me! Do you know how much it cost to iron this shirt?” he yelled back, frustration clear in his voice.
Fara had just been fired from her marketing job, a position she loved dearly. Always falling asleep in the office, she had pushed Mr. Kosoko to his limit with her lack of focus.
As tears streamed down her face, she accepted her fate, picked up her bag, and headed toward the bus stop, dreading the journey home.
“Good afternoon, sir. Please, I need to get to Surulere, but I don’t have any money. I left my wallet at home,” she explained to the conductor.
“You think I’m a mumu, abi? big girl like you? Abeg, shift, make I see road!” he shouted, pushing past her.
Feeling shaken and defeated, Fara stepped aside and glanced around for someone else to ask. After three people turned her down, saying they had no extra money to spare, she found a spot under a shelter and let the tears flow.
Not far from where Fara lived was a popular Akara spot on a street that came alive after 10 PM.
Every night, she and her mom sold Akara there from 10 PM to 3 AM to make ends meet. It hadn’t been easy since her father passed away a year ago, leaving her mom to care for Fara and her two little brothers alone. She knew she had to do everything she could to help.
Thoughts of explaining her struggles to Mr. Kosoko flickered in her mind. She wanted him to understand why she often dozed off at work, but she doubted he would care. The job market was tough, and her search for a better-paying position had led nowhere. Even reaching out to uncles and aunties had yielded nothing—just crickets.
Shaking off the dark thoughts, she stood up and began walking toward home. It would soon be time to start preparing the Akara for the night.
Mr Edward Tijani ❁
Edward woke up the next morning with a really bad headache. Last night was a blur; he had been drinking too much.
Over the weekend, he discovered that his beautiful wife, with whom he had shared 20 years of marriage, was cheating on him with the senior director at his office.
As he got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, he took in his surroundings. He had a lovely home, a good job, nice clothes, and fancy cars, but his marriage and family were crumbling.
As he poured himself a glass of water, he wished he hadn’t taken her—his wife—to that welcome party. He realized that was likely how they had met. He had been eager to connect with one of the top partners at his firm, leaving her alone in pursuit of a promotion.
He thought back and regretted it deeply. “That’s all I’ve ever done: neglect her,” he murmured to himself.
A couple of weeks later, she asked for a divorce. She had fallen out of love and wanted to move on with her life, “to go where she was appreciated”, she had said.
He tried calling his daughter, (ring.. ring.) but she did not pick up.
After a moment of hesitation, he sent her a message, carefully crafting his words “Lisa, things are bad at home. I know we haven’t spoken in a while; I would really appreciate it if you called me back.”
To his great surprise, she responded immediately: “Hi Edward, it’s been four years, not a while! Good luck with the divorce; you always had it coming.” He was driving at that point, indicating to move to the right side of the street. He parked his car and wept.
Miss Maheen ❁
“Maheen, you look absolutely stunning!” her best friend screamed as she stepped into their favorite brunch spot.
“You too, girl! Is that a new fragrance I smell?” Maheen replied with a smile.
“Maheen, please! We’re not here to talk about that. I’m dying to know about this guy!”
Maheen had met her best friend ten years ago in their foster home, and they had quickly bonded over their similar struggles. Maheen didn’t know who her father was, and her mother was locked up in one of the toughest correctional facilities in Chicago.
Foster care had been hard and lonely, but having her best friend by her side made life a bit easier. She was grateful they had remained close, and it was her experiences that inspired her to become an adoption attorney—and surprisingly, she was very good at it!
“He’s so dreamy, and most importantly, he’s really kind,” Maheen blushed. “He says he wants me to meet his family, but I’m so nervous! We come from completely different backgrounds, and I just have this weird feeling…”
Her best friend looked at her earnestly. “Don’t overthink it! Let’s just see how it goes. Fingers crossed everything works out.”
Maheen had always longed for love and family—the very things she had missed all her life. She was desperate for things to go well with Mr. Dreamy.
Two days later, he called. “I’m so sorry, Maheen. I admire you, and I’m in love with you, but it’s really important for my parents to accept who I want to be with.”
She knew it was coming. She wasn’t good enough for them, with their old money, beautiful family, elite connections, and majestic mansions.
Heartbroken, she called her best friend—the only love and family she had.
She wept on her couch, a bottle of Taylor Port half-empty beside her.
Dede Giwa ❁
Dede had woken up sweating like a Christmas goat. It was so hot in the cell he was given that he could not believe he had even fallen asleep. Apparently, one of the men in the cell opposite him had done his bowel business right next to his cellmate, and in annoyance, the cellmate had given him a big blow to his stomach.
No wonder there was so much shouting and ruckus, Dede thought. He would have done the same thing.
He stood up from the concrete floor and tried to peek out of the little window. He looked around and noticed chickens and goats everywhere. “Is the police station a poultry farm as well?” he thought to himself.
Lost in his thoughts, he wondered how he had gotten into this situation; he did not belong here. He was a good citizen about to complete his architectural degree.
He just wanted to go out for faji with his guys and see some beautiful ladies, but alas, here he was, locked up with some miscreants.
His eyes became teary as he thought back to how the night had gone. “You guys, abeg! Let’s be going! Have you all not smoked enough?” he screamed.
His friend Ajala responded, “Mehn, Dede, no dey rush us! If you wan dey go, just go.” He squeezed his face and stayed put; he knew he could not leave without them; they were the owners of the section.
Two men ran past them, and one stopped shouting, “Una dey here dey smoke? Police dey come! Better disappear from here to avoid problems!”
As they scrambled to gather their things and exit, Ajala couldn’t find his car keys. He shouted, “Guys, let’s just run! We shall come back for the car!” But it was too late; the police officers were already in sight, shouting, “Is that hard drugs I smell? I will teach you boys a lesson! I just need one scapegoat!”
Dede became that scapegoat, and now, three months later, he still wasn’t sure when he would get out of here.
Annabelle Rose ❁
“Bruh, I look a mess,” Annabelle said to herself while looking in the mirror. She checked her account and saw there was barely any money left for her wants. She would either have to prioritize self-care, starve and leave a couple of bills unpaid or forget the self care, eat and pay the bills. She knew she couldn’t do the former.
There was a party she needed to attend with all her well-to-do friends, and she had to look up to standard—she always did; it was important to her. No matter the consequences, her hair must be laid, nails done, feet pampered, and her outfit chic—she just had to be put together.
She checked her credit cards and sighed; they were all maxed out except for one. She felt like she was drowning in debt, but she had to save face. “It will be okay,” she thought to herself. “I will sort it all out someday.” She put on her cute outfit and headed out for self-care. Tap, tap, tap—she paid for everything she needed on the credit card, each swipe gnawing at her.
“Annabelle! So good to see you! I’m so glad you could make it! I was surprised you said you couldn’t at first; what was that about?” Sara, the host, asked.
“Haha, I already had something scheduled,” she lied, “but I made it work!”
She had a good time at the party but drove back home lost in thoughts about her financial situation. She had no family member to confide in; she just knew she would be judged.
She had tried to find other ways to make money, but it was just hard.
After hopping into the shower, she asked herself why she couldn’t just stick to her initial response of not attending the party, knowing it would cost her dearly. “I have a problem,” she said as tears mixed with the heavy water slapping her face.
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I once told my father that I could not wait to have all the things that I ever wanted. He looked at me, laughed, and said, “Tola, that’s not exactly possible.” I remember being so upset about it!
As I am getting older, I must admit, I think he was right. My father was right.
You must be wondering why all my stories are kind of sad. To be fair, I am not sure. I am just starting to see that even those who have it all don’t exactly have it all. We are all sad about something; we are worried about something. Our lives are not exactly all roses and ice cream.
In summary, please be an empathizer; it’s so important. The ability to stop for a moment and put yourself in another person’s shoes is so underrated.
Our lives are all so complex; I like sonder a lot.
Sage Roses ❁