Part 2: Love at second sight
•Bilal
It's been a year since my wife moved away without a pretext. It wasn't that we fell out of love. We just happened to find interest in different things.
She has settled down in Somalia with her parents. Rumours flying around say she's cheating and though I'm tempted to believe it, I'd rather catch her red handed.
I want to get over her to be able to divorce her but the inevitable had happened. I fell in love with a mad woman that I can't detach myself away from.
I imagine us as Harlequin and The Joker but I'm yet to become mentally disturbed.
Despite everything, I've remained grateful to her for staying true to her words and looking after all my children.
Two times a month I go to check up on them—precisely once every two weeks.
During the last visit, I saw that they were all taller and chubbier—a sign that she fed them well.
Today was the second time—as planned—I was travelling to see them this month.
On a video call, I spoke to them two nights ago—informing them of my arrival date.
For a while, I've been having the thoughts of bringing them back to Nigeria with me even if it'd end in a great dispute—marginal to the one we had before.
"Sir!" Mr Temitope; my driver called from the front sit, "Where are we going to now? The airport or the office?"
"Let's go to the office first. After I sort some things out, we can go to the office."
"Ok sir." He stepped on the pedal, making the trip end quicker than it started.
He drove into the gates of the office and I stared at the cafeteria where I and Hamza would sit and talk for hours after work.
Like kids—he would throw food strips at me and I'd spray him with water till one of the attention seeking females in love with him or me come to destroy the moment.
As usual, we'd be nice and reply to their greetings then, one of us would create a lie with a fake phone call to leave immediately.
Those days! I laughed and Mr Temitope turned to look at me quizzically. I'm sure he wondered if something was wrong with my head.
"We're here sir."
I nodded, stepped out of the car and stalked to the entrance of the building. I always felt a wave of nostalgia whenever I strode in because Baba Imran was no longer my boss to scold me and Hamza for misbehaving or causing havoc in the office.
Now I was the boss and all 2,500 workers had to answer to me. Dominance was one beautiful privilege a few people enjoyed.
I took the elevator to the fourth floor and darted to my office to gather all the files I'd have to work on while I was there because I was going to be away for at least a week.
Once I found everything, I left downstairs and met an angry Mr Temitope arguing with a groundnut seller who was dragging the pockets of his neatly ironed trouser.
"What's happening?"
He glared at her before answering, "Sir she won't leave me alone."
"Madam what is the problem?"
"He no wan pay me my money!"
"Which money? You talk say make I taste am before I give you money if I like am."
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