See part 3 and other parts to understand this beautiful story.

It had been four days since I saw both of my friends at Haruna and Adrian's wedding. A wedding where Tamara had been a practical representation of ‘no peace for the wicked' and indeed, Gbemi was wicked. 

Don't misunderstand me please, Tamara is such a cute little boy but his tantrums are on another level especially when he is hungry or with someone who is not his parent. I love him but I don't want a baby like him. Gbemi on the other hand is wicked because she was the first to leave the trio. 

I opened my refrigerator and found leftover cake. My stomach growled but I had no appetite. My phone chimed and I reached into my pocket for the phone. I saw a notification from Piggyvest that eighty thousand naira had been withdrawn from safelock to my flex wallet. 

I decided to save the money back in safe lock when my sister's call interrupted.

“Good afternoon ma,” she greeted as the phone embraced the lobe of my ear.

“What's up mama?” I asked as I closed the refrigerator and checked the cabinets in the kitchen for a quick snack.

“Sister, school is after my life. Remember you gave me fourty thousand last week, the money has finished because of the project I'm currently working on. I really need your help because the cost of living wants to kill me.”

“Thank God that is the only thing after your life.” I heard her sigh as I opened the door to my room and found two cockroaches running from under my bed. 

“Sister, is you that I have. After God, it's only you then mummy.”

“Why didn't you call Uchechi to assist you with money. Why call me?” I asked barely keeping my frustration in check.

“Well, Uche's line has not been reachable since she traveled to Dubai with her man. I saw on her Instagram yesterday that she got engaged. I tried to call her via WhatsApp but she is always declining my calls.”

I was not surprised. Love had finally blinded Uche's eyes to the reality that men come and go but siblings are like tattoos on your skin.

“Sister Magdalene, please help me.” Her voice filled me with compassion and I sighed.

“I really don't have money but I can send you at least twenty-five thousand for feeding. I'll see what I can do next week regarding this project.”

“Thank you so much sister Maggy,” she praised and I ended the call.

When did I become an assistant parent? I asked myself while tugging a black hoodie over my head. I quickly sent her the twenty-five thousand and saved the rest in my Piggy safelock.

As I passed by Alhaji Danjuma's shop, he waved at me and I waved back. Alhaji Danjuma had always praised me and wished I would be one of his brothers wife. 

Three stores down my street, I walked into Iya Beji's provision store. 

Her daughter was playing with a tin of SMA Gold of which some were already a powdery pile on the floor. Iya Beji was at the other corner of the shop changing Kenny's diaper. 

“Good afternoon ma,” I greeted and she nodded in my direction. She quickly folded the soiled diaper and hurried into the toilet beside the corner to wash her hands. Taiwo was still making a mountain out of the Gold. 

“Ahhh, Taiwo!” Iya Beji shouted as she approached the toddler who was diligently making a mess. I just stood there and watched because if I handled that child, the mother would beg.

“Sister, why you nor tell me say na wetin she dey do? You for even help me close am. Na wa o.”

I did not utter a word. 

“Wetin you won buy?” She asked while Taiwo was wailing from the spank she had received.

“Shortbread biscuit, the small one.”

The voice wasn't mine but I also wanted shortbread. I turned in time and saw a strangely familiar person. The profile of his face matched the mediocre guy from Haruna's wedding, only this time, he was wearing a baseball cap without glasses. I turned to look at Taiwo who had resumed scooping the milk but this time, from her hands into her mouth. 

The mediocre guy rushed towards the child and removed a strand of hair, which I had not noticed earlier in the pile. He looked at me but I looked away.

“What happened?” Iya Beji asked as she approached the guy who was still carrying the toddler.

“Apparently, there was hair in the pile of milk she was scooping from–”

“Ah, hair?” Iya Beji gave him the biscuit and carried her daughter to examine her mouth. Kenny was prancing about in his diaper with a biro and invoice in hand. 

I had had enough of the drama so I turned to leave when the mediocre guy called my attention. 

“What do you want to buy?” He asked and I turned. 

“Nothing. I have forgotten what I came to buy,” I said but he grabbed another biscuit and paid before rushing out to meet me. 

“What is your name?” he asked politely.

I was in no mood to answer and my stomach growled. 

“Well, mine is Ovie.”

I laughed and he was taken aback. The fact that he was Urhobo just like my ex, Kpesiri, had me reminiscing the past.

“Is my name that funny?”

“Why are you Urhobo? Why did you have to be an Urhobo man?” I said and scoffed.

“Did my brother break your heart?” He asked but I rolled my eyes at him. 

“Magdalene,” I supplied.

“Is that your name?”

“Yes.”

“Nice to meet you Magdalene. Can I call you Mag?” He asked and stretched his hand for a handshake.

“No, you cannot call me Mag, and no, I don't shake strangers.”

He smiled and placed the other biscuit in his pocket. He opened the one in his hand and began munching a piece of shortbread.

“Can I have your number?” He asked.

“No.” On second thoughts, I said, “yes.”

“Which is your final decision?” he asked, bemused.

“My number is 09145678890.”

He smiled as he reached into his breast pocket and removed his phone. I called my number again and he dialled it. 

My phone rang but I did not bother checking. “I'll save it.”

“Alright. Are you a lover of books? I don't mean novels but life changing literature."

"I love books but mostly novels. I find it hard to read those lengthy self-help or finance books," I replied.

"Then I have the right recommendation for you. You should read Happiness through self-care. It's a book I stumbled upon in an online bookstore. You could even read Self-love, discovering ways to find your true self and appreciating who you are. The books are usually short, like fifty-four pages but filled with insights that can change your perspective on empathy.” He said but I didn't care.

We walked in silence and my eyes occasionally darted towards his biscuit but fortunately, we were already at Alhaji Danjuma's shop. 

“Oga Danjuma, you get shortbread biscuit?” I asked the man whose pot belly was cushion for his elbow which was supporting his radio.

“Yes. The big one or small one, Amaria?” he smiled and his yellow teeth shone in contrast to the sun's brilliance.

"Big. I go do transfer.” I said.

“You don't need to pay me as far as you go marry Mustapha as you nor gree to be my own Amaria.”

Ovie was standing behind me and Alhaji Danjuma blew a kiss in my direction. 

“The shortbread, Alhaji.”

He gave me the biscuit and I transferred the money. He was slightly upset that I had paid but I smiled at him and he let it go.

“Are you stalking me?” I asked Ovie who was still beside me.

“Not at all. I am going to where I live and it happens to be in the same direction you are going towards.”

At this point, we were already standing in front of my compound. 

“I live here,” Ovie said and I knew I was in for an ugly experience. 

............

Check my profile for parts 1-3 or use this link to access part 3 which will lead you to the rest. 

What do you think about this story? Do you think Ovie and Magdalene have a shot at love?

For materials on Happiness through self-care and self-love affirmations, see here for your amazing testimony. Feel free to explore the website and let us know what you think about it.