Segun had been on my case for at least 2 years.
I met him one hot Saturday as I was waiting for a taxi on
Grogner Street in Iwaya, Onike. He pulled over and
asked where I was headed. I don’t ever talk to
people on the road but this day, the look of
the mist on the window of his air conditioned
car made it difficult to ignore him given the extreme
heat I was exposed to.
I stepped into his car, grateful for the ride, yet determined to
let him know I was no cheap girl that jumps into
available cars.
“Thank you so much, Sir, for the ride. I normally wouldn’t
do this but I have been standing outside in the sun
for at least 30 minutes. The cabs come in
trickles and are either taken or too
expensive. No one is interested in going my way”.
“Where might that be?” He asked, totally ignoring every
other thing I had said. “I’m going to Ikota but I’ll drop off once we get to any
major road where I can find a cab”. “You’re in luck. I’m actually going to VGC but I need to
get to Surulere first. So I can either drop
you off at a taxi park or you accompany me to
Surulere and then I drop you off at your
doorstep.”
In as much as I was so eager not to overuse help being
rendered, I opted for the latter option. I was in no
hurry whatsoever to go my empty home. Mom and
dad were on their way to Ikene for a week long
engagement and my younger siblings were all in
school. My best friend, Mololu had kindly
volunteered to spend the week with me but she would
not be getting to mine until Sunday night so that meant I’d be spending Saturday night by myself with only
Larry, the dog and Mustafa, the gate man, for
company.
I looked at my wristwatch, with its recently cracked screen
and declared,
“Well, it’s just 1.00 and I’m not in a hurry so I’ll go with you”.
I got to meet him properly. His name is Segun, a
businessman who was into the oil and gas sector. He
had been working for himself in Libya before
moving to Nigeria earlier that year. The
Nigerian side of his business was only just
growing and was already facing major challenges but a meeting he had in Abuja two weeks from our meeting would
determine if a major stumbling block would be removed
and his license would be granted. He saw an
RCCG band on my wrist and asked me to pray
along with him. I promised to.
As he dropped me off at about 4pm that Saturday evening, I
felt like I knew him already. Segun was very chatty,
divulging a lot so quickly. During those hours we
spent together, I also found out that he has a
5 year old daughter by a white French girl he
dated all through his university years in
France. The lady had gone on to marry another Nigerian
and they lived in Port Harcourt with his daughter, Amélie. His dad was long gone and his mom had raised him
and his siblings by herself. I did what I do not ever
do. I gave him my phone numbers and my pin and
from there, we became friends.
The problem with Segun was with his way of showing
concern and love.
and I’m not really the type to get all mushy too early. So it
came as a bit of a rude shock to me when I received my first
“love you baby”, 2 weeks from the day we met. I really
didn’t know what to make of the message and it abruptly
ended our chat as I did not respond. To be fair to him, I
assumed he was simply overjoyed as he was granted all
necessary permits we prayed for, that he spoke out of turn.
About four hours after, at 1 am, I got another message from
him telling me how much he’s so into me and how he feels
like he has finally found what he had been looking for and if
I would be okay being a second mom to his daughter and
how he wants me to meet his mom. I read it and responded
with a “BRB”. Later in the day, we met up for a meal and
then I explained how, though I appreciate his feelings, it
was all too soon for me and I would appreciate if I am given
a bit more time to be on that kind of level with him. In the
meanwhile, I suggested that we remain friends. He looked a
bit disappointed but accepted and declared that he was in
no hurry and would wait for me however long it took me to
realise my feelings for him or develop them.
Segun was extremely generous to me, almost worryingly so.
40cm bag which retails for about $2000. I was shocked and
despite loving nice stuff, I didn’t want to take it from him
initially but I eventually did mentioning it to him that he
really didn’t need to spend that much on me and he should
focus more on growing his business.
Mololu usually saw one Harrods or Neiman Marcus
shopping bag or the other and was always encouraging me
to “stop fronting and say yes to Segun before a sharp girl
does”. I guess because of the manner in which he
approached me, it made me a bit overly cautious since this
his asking out was more like a proposal and he seemed so
sure of his feelings for me. I slowed things down a lot and
outrightly refused to meet his mom for the first three
months. I didn’t want to get carried away at all and kept
praying and taking things slow. Despite our living so close
to each other, I hardly went to his and since I come from a
relatively strict home, his visits were sparing as well (of my
doing).
About six months after we met, work commitments took him
away from Nigeria for a long while. During that period, he
would come to Nigeria at least once a month, bombarding
me with all manners of gifts. Even when he was not around,
he’d randomly have flowers delivered to my office.
He would send handwritten letters by DHL and whenever
anyone was travelling to Nigeria, he would have them
deliver something to me, however small. There was a time
he sent me a bottle of Lucozade because I had lamented
that the Nigerian one tasted different. When it came to
giving, Segun was without fault. But in my opinion, there
was more to consider than how generous a man is.
Sometime, five months ago, Mololu was sent to England for
a training to last 3 weeks and she used the opportunity to
shop and ended up having 2 extra boxes. She complained
over the phone to me telling me the airline was
overcharging her and then, partly because I felt it right to
help and partly because I had ordered something’s which
she was bringing for me, I decided to ask Segun if he could
help out since I know he always travelled light and never
uses the extra allowance granted to him. He accepted to
help bring the extra boxes and I gave her his hotel address
to drop them off a day before her flight. He was due in
Nigeria a week and half after.
My suspicion was first roused when, upon his arrival, he
took the bags to Mololu’s in Ogudu, instead of as I
expected, bringing it to me and having us sort ourselves
out. I asked for the favour. I mentioned to him that my stuff
was included in the box so it came as a surprise to me
when he drove all the way to hers the next day to drop the
boxes off. When I asked him why he did that, he said the
boxes were quite heavy and that he was going that way and
decided to drop them off. I had more questions but felt since
I was not his girlfriend, there is a limit to the questions I
can pose without looking funny. My pride got in the way and
I decided not to mention it anymore.
The calls reduced. The texts were shorter. The usual “love
you” closing went missing. ‘Mololu too reduced her
communication with me. Then one day, she drove to mine
and after lunch asked the most random question, ‘Are you
and Segun in a relationship?”. She looked like she had
struggled to ask that question but at the same time, as
though that was her aim for coming to mine.
“Why do you ask?”
“Nothing at all o. Just wondering ’cause you have known
him for a while and you said you were praying a while back
for direction and was wondering if maybe God said no since
you are not dating him”, she mumbled.
“Omololu, did I say we are not dating?”
“Oh sorry. But I kinda know you are not”
At this stage, I know she and Segun must have spoken
about our relationship status and so I decided to cut to the
chase.
“Did Segun mention it to you himself?”
She looked down and playing with her perfectly manicured
nails, said yes. I had noticed she brought a brand new car
to mine with a new plate number. She had the black of my
Hermes bag too. Wow! I didn’t want to believe what I know
just had to be the truth. It was written all over her face. I
don’t know where I got the strength but I said not a word
after that. Awkwardly, she picked up her bag and car keys. I
noticed then it was a Hyundai. It must be the Sonata she
always wanted ever since it was released last year. She
would always point at every 2011 Sonata she saw on the
road and say she’d one day, get it.
To cut the very long tale short, my best friend Omololu and
my 2 year old toaster are now together. Segun drove to
mine 2 weeks after Omololu did and said somethings to me.
He first of all apologised. He said he was not sorry for
moving on but sorry that it had to be someone I knew
simply because of the sake of his consideration of my
feelings and not because it was wrong. He said, as I never
for once, declared any form of feelings for him during our
almost 2 year friendship, he does not feel he had wronged
me in any way. He said he would always be grateful for
meeting me as, through me, a door of everlasting joy had
been opened to him and he would like my blessing as he
walks into it. I was weak.
To be honest, I’m not hundred percent certain which hurts
more, the fact that I’m losing a really nice and eligible
suitor, that I lost him to a ‘friend’, the sneaky way it
happened or the fact that I almost executed the deed for
them by creating an enabling environment.
I really wanted to know how it all happened and so I
demanded the tale, not from Mololu, but from Segun
himself. He told me that the week before he travelled, when
he saw her at mine, they had got talking whilst I was in the
bathroom and she had mentioned she would be off on
training and that she would be doing crazy shopping for her
new apartment. They had a few ‘moments’ that day but they
did not exchange numbers. It was the day she brought the
bags to his hotel that the sparks went flying. She had gotten
to his hotel at about 12 noon and they went to out together
and he dropped her off at her hotel at about 9pm. Early the
next morning, at about 5 am, he drove down to her hotel to
take her to the airport himself and from their journey, they
got even closer. According to him, he knew that morning
that he was ‘home’. That conversation sounded painfully
familiar and I couldn’t help my grimace. At that juncture, I
held up my hands and told him I was satisfied with the
information he furnished and that they both have my
blessing. He hugged me and left.
That evening, Omololu updated her status with these words
“Those that wait on the Lord will rejoice. I rejoice. Behold,
my Boaz!”. His picture was her DP. I remember that picture.
I took it with his iPhone whilst trying out an app. Each day,
a new picture of him would be put on display. There was
even one of herself, Segun and his daughter. She had firmly
ingrained herself in his life.
Due to how serious I know Segun is, it came as no shock to
me when she told me they were getting married and she
really wanted me to be her chief bridesmaid though if I felt I
could not do it, she would understand. According to her,
she was doing that for the friendship we once shared which
she hoped we could revive. I refused. But not before letting
her know that I could be counted on if she needed any
assistance.
At about 12 midnight, I got this email from her,
“Sweetheart, I love
you. God knows I do. I apologise for
how I might have hurt
you but despite all, I would be a liar
to say I would or could
elect to do things differently if given
a second chance.
Oluwasegun has brought
me the type of joy I thought was
only for the fairy
tales. But through him, I have my very own
fairy tale. I love him
with all my being. I know I might come
across as insensitive
and selfish. I am sorry. But please, try
and find a place in
your kind heart to let go of any hurt you
might be experiencing
and enter into a place of happiness
for me, Omololu, your
sister and best friend since our
Corona days. It should
not be heard that we are fighting
over a man and
remember, my darling, you never were in a
You never
took the plunge, you shielded your heart from
hurt and refused to
commit to anything. I know you babes.
When you truly love a
man, you have no time for such long
due diligence
exercises. If you want to be sincere with
yourself, you would
admit that Segun never did anything to
your heart. Your heart
did not skip beats with the sound of
his voice. Your body
never quivered with the touch of his
hands. I understand you
two never even kissed. You clearly
never felt love for
him.
However, I cannot
discount the friendship you shared. Till
date, he still goes on
and on about how you are the only
friend whose loss moved
him to his core. I can testify too of
your level of regard of
your friendship and respect for him.
But my dear, friendship
and respect are not solid foundation
enough upon which to
construct a marriage. You knew this
and this is why you
stalled. What did not grow in 2 years
would most likely never
grow.
I hope you understand
that the aim of this email is not to
throw in your face the
fact that Oluwasegun and yourself
never had anything
concrete but to let you take a proper,
honest and
dispassionate look at goings on. If you do,
forgiving me would
come, naturally.
I can’t stop loving you
dear. I am sad that the vow we made
to each other 16 years
ago to be each other’s maids of
honour even if one got
married first would not be fulfilled.
Please, re-examine your
heart and find a place in it to
forgive me.
Yours now and always,
‘Mololu.”
The tears came
pouring down. I couldn’t say exactly why
and they were not asking. I felt sorry for myself. I felt sad
because I really wasn’t crazy about Segun but we could
have made it work, I guess. Omololu now was benefitting
from all the prayers I invested in Segun, all the fasting.
That, more than anything hurt me. I would have married
Segun. I just needed him to pass one more test and voila,
I’d have said yes to him. I never thought he’d stop loving
me. I never thought I’d lose him and certainly not to my
friend, my supposed best friend.
***
I eventually decided to be her Chief Bridesmaid and muster
intense joy on her face when I told her I changed my mind.
She jumped on me in her usual boisterous fashion, laughing
and crying at the same time.
God has been helping me. It has been hard. Especially
when I see the look on Segun’s face as he looks at her. He
never looked at me that way, I must confess.
His business has been doing greatly and he is sparing
nothing for his wedding. His daughter, upon Omololu’s
request, will be both the little bride and the flower girl.
Omololu’s nephew will be the ringbearer. Her Eli Saab
dress is absolutely beautiful. Segun flew us both to England
to get it. She asked for a size bigger and I suspect she is
pregnant.
With each day, the feeling of hurt and betrayal gets slowly
taken over by happiness for her and hope for my own
future. I still haven’t met anyone worth reporting on and
despite this, I have joy. Not happiness, but joy; joy that all
will turn out well. But for now, I still can’t help from asking
myself each time I look at Omololu, “How could she?!”
Who would you blame?
THE END
***
Readers, what are your views on this situation?
-Would you accuse Omololu of being a conniving,
scheming friend? Or would you blame the writer for
being a slow person who forgot that time waits
for no man and who possibly had started taking
Segun for granted? Or should we lay the blame
at Segun’s feet, the slimy bastard who had the
nerve to move from one girl to her best
friend? Or is there really anyone to blame? Could it not be argued, and successfully too, that when love takes
over, restraint is hard, if not impossible, to
practise and maybe, as Omololu stated in her
letter, Segun was never destined to be with
her friend?
-Do you support long periods of ‘fronting’ or as some
term it, due diligence/waiting on God’s approval? How
long is too long for a girl to keep a guy hanging?
-Also, the issue is raised on the appropriateness or not of
a guy coming on strong and speaking of marriage early
on thereby making a girl overly careful and scared to
say yes.
-I also see the matter of getting your friend close to your
man or potential man. How close is too close? Was the
writer silly in giving them that opportunity to start
something or would it have happened anyway?
-There is also the issue of being a good nice girl who
would not accept anything (gifts etc.) from a guy as
you want to build things together and do not
want to appear to be using him and then along
comes ‘Sisi Nene’ who takes whatever she is
offered, sometimes even demanding, and dude
keeps loving her deeper and deeper.
These are a few of the issues I identified. Do you see
more? What are your thoughts?
© Temiville and The Musings
of a Caramel Latte
Addict, 2010.
Written
by:
Temiloluwa Faith Adebayo
Writer,
blogger, and a Lawyer in practice.
E-mail:
temiville@yahoo.com
You can also read Delay is Never a Denial by Ayokunmi Solomon Jimoh
