I am at the Nnamdi Azikiwe international airport feeling very
hot and my pores clogged with so much sweat. With the way the very high ceiling fan blades
were lazily chasing each other, it was either a case of low voltage or someone
didn’t think passengers needed the cool air. Of course I went with the former
option, knowing my country well. Who approved for the ceiling fans to be placed
so high in the first place? And why in God’s name isn’t there air conditioning
in an “International Airport”, one in
the capital of a country for that matter? I sighed and continued to struggle
with my “hand luggage” as we queued up to have our passports checked. Well, I am a typical Nigerian who tries to fit
in 23kg if possible in a tiny hand luggage box, carry a huge sleep over bag as “handbag”
and still bring a laptop bag along. The international airport officials in
other countries have given up on us.
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| This is could be me .... ok not this bad LOL! SOURCE- www.livehappy.com |
It was obvious I was struggling with my luggage and this
fine gentleman walks up beside me to help. Gladly I oblige him. He waits for me to get through immigration and after a brief chat we
exchange numbers. Why not? This dude is hot plus no ring on the left hand (first
thing I always check) so I am safe right?
Two months later, after I have given up on him, hot dude finally
calls. He’s been “in and out of the
country for some meeting…working on some project for an international
airline….bla bla bla” Ah! Correct
guy. I suppose he was worth the wait. Sorry, but some of us sisters won’t mind if
the brother comes “made”….Okay… half made will do. We all want the fine things
and it is not every day a girl wants to hear mother’s IT-IS-BEST-TO-BUILD-THE-WEALTH-WITH-YOUR-MAN/HUSBAND-SERMON.
“Can we have a drink
sometime?” nawah o, is he asking?
“Well, it depends on
when to be sure it fits into my schedule” My reply is casual. A girl cannot
sound too eager or excited abi?
“Say Tuesday next
week, 3pm?”
“Let me see….” I
pause as though I am really checking my ‘schedule’ “How about Wednesday 5:45pm?”
“That’s perfect
actually. Will be at the Hilton lounge at 5:30pm, see u there”
Hilton….it even gets better!
WEDNESDAY 5:45PM….
We did a bit of chit chat about everything and nothing but I
make him talk more about himself. He’s so much fun to talk to really. Within the first 35 minutes I make two
discoveries:
He is married. Very married.
He has 4 kids with his wife and they all live with him here
in Abuja.
AN HOUR LATER…
“I am afraid I have to
run” I mean that literally
“So soon? I thought
you were enjoying my company?”
“Oh, I do not enjoy
the company of married men. Especially those who do not wear their wedding
bands.” I smile nicely at him.
“Errr…its not like
that you know…I was thinking…” Aha! I caught him off guard. I guess I was
too blunt. But mehn, who was I fooling? I am honestly tired of being nice in
the face of deception.
“Thank you for the
drink and please would you mind not calling my number again?” I am standing
already with my arm stretched for a handshake and a plastic smile plastered on
my face mostly for the benefit of those around and to save him the
embarrassment.
As I drove home, all I did was wonder why most married men
find it difficult to wear their wedding bands. Or was a Nigerian thing too? I made a mental note to never carry a lot as
hand luggage again.
The NOT-SO-MADE-BROTHERS
were probably best after all.
