The six month strike in 2013 was really difficult as my younger ones attended a boarding school. My parents leave for work early enough and won’t return until later in the evening. I watched movies repeatedly that I already mastered the lines of the actors. I spent more time on Facebook replying messages and uploading pictures. 

         Eric sent a friend request to me on Sunday afternoon and we started chatting. We exchanged numbers and the bond grew. He would call, talk at length and chat till midnight. He sent me airtime on weekly basis and even paid for my hair whenever I asked.  Whenever I see updates or news as regarding the strike my prayer was always that it doesn’t get resolved anytime soon because I was enjoying Eric’s company. One evening while chatting, Eric requested that we met. He asked me to pick anywhere I like and even sent me money to get myself fixed before he shows up.

          It was a bright cold day in May, and the clocks were striking thirteen. I wore my fitted sleeveless blue gown ,arranged my hair carefully and attached a pink clip to it. I sprayed my found up perfume and wore a moderate makeup. The pink sandal matching with the hand bag gave me a  satisfactory look that I couldn’t help but smile at the mirror. I called Eric and he said he is on his way too. There were few eateries at Ibadan especially at Basorun axis so I choose the Mr Biggs restaurant at Idi ape. “Welcome ma” that was the voice of restaurant’s doorman. I ordered for Ice cream and hamburger and I set at a corner that will enable me whoever steps in.

            My phone rang and I looked up, I saw the doorman welcoming someone. The young man was putting on a faded black shirt with a blue short. He also wore a brown socks and a black sandal. I wasn’t sure of what to do when my eyes got glimpse of his hair having his comb hanging on it. As he turned around to search I guess. I saw a towel dangling at the back of his pocket.I hurriedly switched off my phone and picked my bag up to leave then he walked closer to me and asked
“are you Abimbola?”
I said “are you Eric? He replied
” yes” and replied “I am not Abimbola.”

Olaleye oluwadamilola

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