Improvised Plan #ProjectNigeria

29- Jealous Much?

Song: Jealous by Fireboy DML

Ola:

While Oxlade sings about going away with an older woman, I scan the crowd of party-goers around me. Not a bad gathering this Thursday night. Someone in the estate is throwing a pool party to celebrate something I can't remember, and I don't even know who the celebrant is, anyway.

Typical Nigerian way; come one and come all, you don't need to know the celebrant or the reason for celebrating!

"This is your third mojito," my neighbor, Lewa yells at me as she snatches my drink from my hand.

Lewa, a woman in her early thirties, has been the closest thing to a friend in this estate since I moved in a little over a year ago. Divorced with no children, Lewa is always in a fun mood. I never asked about the detail of her matrimonial split, and I am glad I never did.

"Lewa, I'm trying to have fun here," I yell back over the loud music.

Lewa looks at me with concern. "You sound like you're looking for a distraction. Did anyone break your heart?"

"No," I sulk. "Not yet."

I have been unable to reach Saheed for days. Since Saturday, all I've been getting are the "I miss you. Stay safe. I am fine" texts and nothing more. No calls, no WhatsApp messages. His number has remained unavailable since we last spoke over the phone. I understand that a lot is going on in his life right now, but...

I shrug and take back my drink from Lewa. "Let me have fun, Lewa. Go on, I saw that oyibo man with a leg tattoo over there staring at you. It seems you fascinate him."

"Oh, really?" Lewa asks innocently. "Well, let him drool a bit na. I'll be back soon."

And with that, Lewa disappears, leaving me seated on the tall stool close to the bar. I sip my strawberry mojito and occupy myself with watching the party go on. Loads of skin, from women in bikinis to men on trunks. Loud music, a selection of the best from the Nigerian music scene. Free food, from barbecue to small chops and other snacks. Paired with the alcohol, the music gets into my head and it feels like my joints are loosening, my muscles are relaxing. I like this feeling. I feel like I am somewhere in-between wakefulness from a lovely nap, and falling right back into it.

Omah Lay's Bad Influence plays and I sway on my seat, enjoying my own company.

"You seem to be having fun here."

I smile at the man leaning on the counter beside me. "I am."

He smiles back before signaling to the bartender for a bottle of beer. "Do you know who is celebrating and why?"

"No, do you?"

He shakes his head with a laugh. "So, I guess we're both party crashers."

"Ninety percent of the people here are crashing this party, I assure you."

"I'm Boma by the way. What is your name?"

"Ola. Nice to meet you, Boma."

Boma tilts his head backwards and takes a long drink from his beer bottle. I take the time to observe his features. Dark skin, a short beard, nicely toned muscles and average height. No shirt on, just a pair of beach shorts and flip flops. Typical pool party outfit. In a short conversation, he tells me that he is from Rivers State, a lawyer by day and a software developer by night.

Toh. Lagos guys?

I tell him about my business and he seems impressed. Somehow, we begin to laugh over some jokes, each of us taking turns to tell one. It feels good to laugh without restraint; why didn't I drink wine more often after Saheed's call on Saturday?