Can we try again?

Fourteen.

We sat in the living room afterwards with a plate of rice and stew with some fried fish. The television was on and a Nigerian movie was playing on African Magic. We didn't really pay much attention to it, we were busy chatting along as we ate. It felt good replacing all the lost contents of my stomach.

After eating we took our plates to the kitchen and Oma helped washed them, even though I wanted to. I swear I was being treated like royalty. And I was enjoying every moment of it.

We went back to the living room. The TV was still on and the movie still showing. It was a scene where a girl was drowning in a pool. But the problem was, it was the shallow end of the pool. How is that even possible? She was flailing her arms and screaming 'help' in water that was less than half a meter deep.  Oma and I couldn't help but laugh at the silliness of it.

"Chai, Nollywood will not kill us o." Oma was still laughing.

"We no dey carry last na."

"Seriously though, I don't get Nigerian movies and the stunts they play. They do not put in much effort into their movies and when people watch it, it turns out to be absolute crap. Like this one now." She motioned to the TV.

Oma was a serious opponent of Nigerian movies. She thinks they are complete rubbish and are not . . . what's the word she uses? "Mentally stimulating." I don't blame her though. I totally agree with her, but I still like to watch them. I just overlook all the errors and flaws and they make me giggle sometimes.

"How can this grown ass woman be shouting for help in a pool that is not even up to her knees? Can she not stand up?" she was still going on. "You see, that's why I like my Netflix movies and series. You don't see shit like this."

"I hear you Mrs. Netflix." I said. "What happened to being patriotic and supportive of your country?"

"Not Nollywood, I won't. They're such a disgrace."

"Hm, I hear. I'll listen more of your rants when I hear that you've successfully directed a movie."

"I would if I could, but that's not my expertise, you know. And if I was, I know I would be damn good at it."

"Okay, I've heard. It's enough." I told her.

"Abeg let's change this rubbish." She grabbed the control from my hand and changed the channel to MTV Base. "Better."

It was better, to be honest. I do like my music.

It was throwback Thursday. And P-Square's 'no one like you' was on. Immediately, Ijeoma and I both started singing along to the song. It would always be one of my favourite songs, no doubts. It brings so many memories. Beautiful memories.

The song was played during our Secondary School Prom night for the couple's dance. That was certainly a night to remember; the good food, the music, the people; my classmates.

I couldn't believe that was nearly five years ago. It seemed like yesterday we were all glammed up and giddy about our prom. It was the whole Senior Secondary students – the juniors had theirs the week before us. There were about 100 students present that night – so many excited and hyped students.

And it was that night Christopher and I kissed. How could I forget that? Oh I'd been waiting for that moment since the very first day I set my eyes on him.

He was so damn cute. Maybe it was because he was mixed race, I don't know. But he had the most beautiful face on earth. It was perfectly executed, like a baby's, which gave him an innocent look. His eyelashes were really long – which for some reason was the first thing I noticed when I first saw him and I kept on wishing mine was like his, so I wouldn't even bother with mascara. His long nose, sat above his lips which were a shade of pink and I used to sit in class – three rows away from him – with so many dirty thoughts racing through my mind.