African beauty

Chapter 21 - An Epiphany

When I got back from school, Alex was sitting down on his dining room chair, with papers in front of him. "Hey, Er. I sorted out tickets for your flight, and I didn't want anything less than the best for you. I booked first class for you, so just tell me if you don't want it" he said looking up at me. I tried so hard to decline; to get the words out. But I just stood there, as though I would be insane or melodramatic for declining. "I guess there are no problems then" said Alex. I absolutely detested the fact that he did that; did not give me enough time to calibrate an answer, and just assumed that I did not have one or was too shy to say it. He gave me booking information for a hotel, making me realise the fact that I had not disclosed the one important detail; I would be staying with my aunt. I did not say a thing about that. "It was really confusing innit, booking a hotel in Nigeria is so fucking disorganised. And I did not know how long you would be staying there. I booked for a week only" he said, confused, and slightly distraught. "I will be staying there until you tell me the coast is clear, Alex. Its okay, after the one week ends I will stay with my aunt like I envisaged" I said, very swiftly. Alex nodded. "Also, did you know that suddenly Oliver wants to go on this impromptu trip to Cairo? On the same day as your flight? Thats insane! He hasn't even fully recovered and that. Anyway, I will drop both of you" he said, looking up at the ceiling, as though the ceiling had answers. "Well, if he wants to go, let him go mate. Cant stop him" I said, nonchalant, so as not to come off as too suggestive and suspicious. "Flight leaves at 8pm this evening, so we have to be at Heathrow at around 5:30- 6ish. Go and start packing your shit now. Its 4pm.."said Alex, and before he could finish his sentence, I pushed myself towards him and threw my hands around his neck. "Thank you, Alex. You do a lot for me and I feel bad" I said. "Why so?" Said Alex, trying to act oblivious. "Nothing.." I said, as I pressed my lips to his, softly, then aggressively. It is safe to say that I fucked him as a thank you present. Go on and judge me. Afterwards, I went upstairs to pack my things, and shortly after, Oliver arrived. He did not say much, and only went on to go upstairs and pack his things as well, because we were going together. When I was done, I went over to his room. His looked painstakingly nervous. "This is my first time going to Africa" said Oliver. He had never enjoyed the idea of white people going to Africa and trying to "save" it. He believed that if given enough time and space, the people of the country would be able to solve their biggest problems, and the two things in the way were; fake sympathy and stereotypes. When he told me that, it made me more attracted to him than I had ever been. "Olly, you will be fine, I promise. Stick with me and you will be alive by the end of this trip" I said, with a straight face. He chuckled, but I was dead serious.

At around 6:15, Alex dropped me and Oliver off at Heathrow airport. When we were sure that Alex had gone far, we both hugged each other. "The plan worked, Erica" he said, with some sort of triumph. I did not make a sound. I just held His hand and squeezed it tight. It was evident that he loved me 100%, and I could not give him what he desired. It was confusing. It swiftly glanced over my mind to cut ties with Alex, but I gave it no weight. "Lets go check in then we can get something to eat yeah" said Oliver, smiling. We checked in to our flight to Lagos, Nigeria. We were on the first class line, and Oliver had his arms around my waist, and kissed the side of my head slightly. Two Nigerian men and one Nigerian woman were across us in the economy line, and they glanced at us, uttering words that they made sure we were able to hear. "Look at her, a disgrace to her people. She comes to England and she first thing she does is to start fucking somebody that is not of her own kind. Ashawo( prostitute). That is what they do. They sell their Vagina for money. Olorun maje( God forbid)". The lady in their midst said "God forbid bad thing. Me I will date my own race and I am not afraid to". It was incredibly audible. "We can hear you fuckers" he said, shouting across them. I immediately knew that this would escalate if I did not diffuse the situation. "Olly, calm down, I will handle it" I whispered, as I squeezed his arm. I looked over at them. "If you have a problem with me dating a white man, then thats on you. On the other hand, I am happy with him. Also, I speak Yoruba. Emi ko bẹru lati ba ara mi jẹ ṣugbọn emi nifẹ rẹ (I am not afraid to date my own race but I love him)" I said. As we concluded checking in, I dragged Oliver aggressively, so he would not pounce on them at the first chance he got. It turned me on; the fact that Oliver would get into a fight at a public area just to shut people who were talking crap about me up. He feared no man, unlike Alex, who only did so when convenient. "I need some coffee, these guys really pissed me the fuck off" said Oliver. The way he was talking suggested that he would refer to them as niggers, but I'm glad he did not. "Lets go to Starbucks. Sit down and cool off, Olly. I know what drink you like okay?"I said, as he sat down. Oliver was a typical british twenty year old; he loved his coffee black and bitter. I had once caught him grinding his own coffee beans, and he replied with "its more rich in taste". It tasted worse than a Nigerian bitter leaf. I went to the Starbucks counter, and it was yet another black woman giving me scornful looks for being with a white man. "One medium black coffee and one medium coffee with sugar and milk, please" I said, in the kindest way possible. "8 pounds" she said, in the worst way possible. I gave her the money with a three pound tip, just to show her that I was not phased. "Thank you. You're Nigerian innit?" She said, with a sense of familiarity. "Yes. Where are you from?" I asked. "I am Ghanian" she said. It was easy to guess; the darkness and richness of her black skin paired with her strong facial features made it evident. She glanced over at Oliver. "Bad day for him yeah?" She said, with a sense of pity. "Yeah" I said, ending the conversation, as I realised that she had not given my order. She gave the paper to the worker beside her, a white man, though not seemingly British. He looked Russian. He made the order in the quickest of time, and put it on the counter. I took the drinks with gratitude and went towards Oliver, who was already standing up. "Here you go, Olly" I said, handing it to him. He tasted it. "Ah, black coffee. Bitter as it should be" giving me a smirk, as though he had taken a jab at me. I laughed as we walked towards our terminal. When we got there, we saw the same people that we had an altercation with earlier at the lines, only, they approached to apologise. "We are very sorry" they said, in a begging manner. "You are not truly sorry, but that is okay. Until you know what love is, you will never understand us" I said, as I walked away. Call me rude or revengeful, but I knew it was not genuine; else they would have approached us as fast as they could to apologise. I forgot about them and we sat down to wait for the plane to board. I slept on Olivers lap, suggested by him, until the plane arrived and we started boarding.