Abeg, Who Is Bolanle?


Okay, let me start from yesterday. I had a totally good day until evening.
I went to utako in the morning. I saw Jonathan Eze. He just came in from Enugu the previous day. I started avoiding him since he is fond of saying
“Yetunde, something is wrong with you o”
I would say yes. Of course. That’s right.
Yesterday as well, after talking about Abuja, his job, his family and all, he started again with concern
“But you are not okay o”
I said yes. That is correct.
“Who do you talk to? Who advises you? Is there any elder in your family I can talk to?”

.
This is the part where I remove my shoes in wild bewilderment, hold my head and laugh like mad.
“Are you for real? I don’t even have a family”.
He demands to talk to someone in my family every goddamn time.
I really don’t know what I will do with him. When will he believe that I don’t have family members?
So, that’s for the early part of my day.
My friend in Kaduna, the mompreneur whom I talked about had called. It was a video call and I got to see her fine son.
Until the later part of the evening when I saw something that triggered some of the dead pain inside me and I became instantly depressed. I was so depressed that I could hardly breathe so I decided to call this recently acquired elder brother of mine and after talking with him he said, let me pray for you.

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I said I didn’t want to pray but he could go ahead and pray if he wanted to. It was that bad. I wasn’t even sure I was going to say amen.
So he began to pray and pray and pray and all of a sudden, his voice began to quake…kasala
Then he began to cry. Wahala de. As he was crying, I bin dey cry too. You wouldn’t have believed that I was extremely happy for the most part of the day. This life sha. Yeah, I’ve had friends cry with me from time to time. Like KGB. Like my friend in the UK. We were talking/chatting about some issues and they began to cry for me. My friends are the best aswearugad!
KGB is a wonderful friend and brother. He’s the one my dad used to call ogbeni ota.

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Dad would mistakenly dial his number sometimes when he wants to call me. How did Dad get his number? I used to recruit them yearly to give my dad a surprise call on his birthday. They would call and introduce themselves, “hello Daddy, my name is KGb, I am yetunde’s friend, happy birthday bla bla bla. It used to make his day. He would be excited, call me and say your friend ogbeni ota just called me. KGB legit cried for me one time when I told him about me. Same for OBF1. He kept following me around till some of my senses were restored. My head was not correct then too😀. So Jonathan Eze knows what he’s saying.

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OBF2 would rather not cry with me but he’d drive me out without saying a word, give me tissue from his car, then drive me back to the office. Like they do in the abroad and in the movies😀. Very matured something. No judgements, no questions and we don’t ever talk about it. He respects my privacy. But that was mostly when I was bereaved.
So I was saying that, this elder brother, married with kids, began to shed tears for me till he had to stop the call abruptly. He called back twice and I didn’t pick again. He added to my sorrow, honestly. But again, it was somehow comforting. I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night till about 2 or 3am this morning. Then I woke up by 5am. He called that he was leaving Lagos.
I sha dragged myself out of bed later. I didn’t feel like going anywhere today but I had to be at a compulsory party. I was there, still moody, taking in everything they were doing absentmindedly, still wiping off stray tears from my side eye.

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Until,
Wait for it,
It was time to dance.
It was more of a female gathering. Men were very few I could count them. We listened to a couple of Xmas songs which brought back memories.
Then the DJ changed the gbedu and all hell broke loose. I saw some girls run to the DJ and talked to him in whispers. I didn’t know it was for him to play a particular song for them. Immediately this strange vibrating beat came on, they grew wild with frenzy, throwing their arms and legs in the air. They screamed and ran excitedly to the centre, jiggling their frail bodies to the rhythm. Married women forgot their home training and status. They shook that part of their body that should not be named.

.
I just kept hearing
“Bolanle, bolanle pepper them o”
I was confused. Like, is this part of my midlife crisis? Who is bolanle? What’s her state of origin? Who is she peppering? Why are they all so excited?
Alas, I couldn’t get answers.
My TV is dusty as we speak. Never been put to good use. I haven’t put it on in months. One spirit has been whispering at me to sell my fridge and TV and use the money to buy chocolate cookies and freezer. But how will you know I have arrived if you come to my house and I don’t have a TV?

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So, I am not in the social circle. I don’t know what is going on. But with the kind of crazy revival that bolanle is causing on the street, will bolanle make heaven like this? What is it about that bolanle that makes the atmosphere change?
However, I enjoyed watching the dance moves. Why will children of these days not dance until they stick out their tongues like warapa things?
I saw my brother dancing this frog jump dance when they came to Abuja in May. I didn’t understand it until I later saw it on social media. I didn’t even know it’s the latest.
So this is how old age creeps up on you unawares?

********

So as much as I was depressed to bed last night and wondered if God would ever show up, it was something exciting that woke me up by 5.16am this morning. I ignored it at first and later decided to check. Let’s just say, it helped me make the decision to get out of bed faster.

And just as I was about to post this article, I received a message on my official email. The best news I’ve been waiting for. Lets just say this also got me excited.

Then, they called me from the office and said my vegetable oil is ready. Do i want it now? It’s part of the cow sharing gig. The cow still comes later.

Then, while I was talking to my colleague at work, comparing airline prices, asking about arik and air peace and I dropped the call, a barrister had called. Let’s just say that conversation was one I needed.

Let’s not also forget that Jonathan Eze promised yesterday to book me on the same fight with him to lagos. And offered me lace for his sister’s wedding. If next week is free for me, I don’t have to worry about how to get out of here. I know I may turn it down though. I cant stay in the south from next week till New year. Nah.

I guess this is just a way God says “hey, even though life won’t make sense at times, I’m still here. Take this and that.

That NJC stuff is doing me gizgiz. See levels now. Working with two giant federal government offices? Ok, let us now share the grace. The end.

Author

nikeolasiyan@yahoo.com
She has won many awards in writing and poetry amongst which are CLO essay competition (1st Prize Southwest) NDIC essay competition(5th Prize in the southwest) and a World Bank Essay Certificate of Participation She has worked with woman.ng as a content editor and a host of sites as a ghost writer. She has written great inspirational content for fashion brands/blogs. She has been featured on radio and recently added public speaking to her portfolio. You can hire her to write a professional/business profile for you, online content editing, book editing, guest blogging, ghostwriting, content creation or if you need copies of her book, contact her via nikeolasiyan@yahoo.com Facebook.com/Yetunde Olasiyan instagram.com/Yetunde Olasiyan Follow her business page on Instagram @officialladywriter

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