Mr. Ajewole drove into the compound rather awkwardly. He placed a firm hand on the lower right side of his stomach as he stumbled out of the car. Olu locked the gate in haste and raced to greet his father as is his ritual. He was shocked to see his plump father unusually writhing in pain as he emerged from the Honda Civic.
“Daddy what is wrong?!” he called, rather frightened.
Mr. Ajewole looked up and caught his son’s worried expression.
“I’m Ok,” he winced.
He managed to stand up straight and scanned the entire compound as much as the pain would allow. He wondered why his wife’s car wasn’t packed somewhere in the compound as she should have gotten home long before him.
“Your mummy is not back yet?”
“She just got in. She said her car developed a fault and she had to drop it off at the mechanic’s workshop.” Olu replied.
Mr Ajewole began to walk towards the house and he stumbled.
Seeing that he was obviously in pain, Olu rushed to his side and helped him up. He supported him by his left side and they both staggered heavily into the building.
“Mommy, mommy!” Olu called, as he opened the door and helped his dad inside.
Mrs Ajewole dashed out of the kitchen, directly adjacent the main entrance into the house, with an unusual apprehension. She was expecting her husband’s husky voice to make the usual and somewhat amusing ‘darling I’m home’ sound.
“Kiloshele?!” she shouted.
Mr Ajewole sat himself on the big sofa, legs spread out awkwardly in front of him and his bald head resting heavily on the cushion. His agonising face was turned upwards and he was focusing on the shining lights of the chandelier in view of distracting himself from the pain.
“Haha, what happened?” Mrs Ajewole asked, as she quickly rushed to his side.
“I felt a sharp pain here (pointing at the lower right side of his stomach), earlier today in the office. I didn’t think it was something serious as the pain subsided on its own. However, as I drove into the estate, it suddenly reappeared again, more excruciating than ever. It hasn’t stopped since then. If anything, it’s increasing with every breath.”
“What?!” she stammered.
She stood up and helped her husband up.
“Olu, put off the gas cooker!”
She picked up the car keys he had dropped clumsily on the table and motioned towards the door.
“Let’s go to the hospital!”
It was another weekend and for the fourth week running, Adeola was alone, lonely and weary. She had lost a bit of weight from brooding and not eating as often as she should have. She looked pale, haggard and restless. Her room was as unkempt as her body. Her braids were out of place and her face had developed dark round spots.
She had been contemplating on moving on but just didn’t know how to. She was stuck in her silent reverie. Yet, she couldn’t call Bello either, for fear of being perceived as weak and dependent.
With one last concerted effort, she picked up her phone and browsed through her BlackBerry contacts.
“Haa! Dayo!!” she giggled loudly.
It was one of her age long admirers that caught her dulled attention. He was sitting by the pool side with all his packs, basking in the sun, in the picture she viewed. She quickly sent him a simple ‘hi’.
Ten long seconds after, her phone beeped. ‘Hello stranger’ was the veiled reply.
Thirty frantic minutes later, she had got herself a lunch date…
She however felt strangely dressing up for a date with someone other than Bello.
“Come to think of it, how many times did he take me out on a date?!” she shrugged.
She quickly brushed aside the stinging thoughts of Bello that were creeping into her mind again and tried to relish the idea of finally meeting someone else after such long period of time.
She applied a lot of hair cream to her braids and applied enough foundation to hide the sprouting zits and dark spots on her face. Eye brow- check, eye lashes- check… She rummaged through her make up kit and pulled out her favourite red lipstick. She applied just the right amount on her supple lips and smiled at the result.
All set, she glanced at herself in the mirror and heaved heavily. Another look at the new dress she has not had a chance to wear since she got it and she was glad she said yes to his lunch offer. Not that she was likely to decline anyway…