A chance at love


Hey dearies, how have you all been?

I trust you’ve been good. I’ve missed you all, missed writing been battling with some serious writer’s block. but last night, my laptop loved me.

I wrote this short story and just edited this morning. I hope you like, I hope you really like and spare some thought for Bisi as she goes through this difficult time. 

a chance at love, chinma eke's blog


‘…. It’s not you, it’s me.’ With those words he shattered her world.

We’ve all heard those words, jokes and memes have been made of those words, but you can never understand those words; their impact until they are said to you. That five letter sentence. Perhaps in analysis it might be that it isn’t quite a correct sentence. But none of that matters when those words are said to you; all that matters at that moment; is that those words signify the end of a journey for you.

Bisi had known Akin for a while, perhaps known off is the correct terminology. They had mutual friends, acquaintances, etc. they were even friendly, said hi pleasantly whenever their paths crossed. So, when on that day they met at his cousins wedding; they said hi, Bisi introduced him to her friend; Funke whom she attended the wedding with and tried to match make them.

A few days later she followed up with Funke to find out if they had been any progress with Akin. Funke said they had spoken a few times but she doesn’t get the vibes Akin was interested. Bisi followed up with Akin, extoling Funke’s virtues to the highest heavens. She and Akin got talking, got to know each other better.

It was on one of such follow up sessions Akin asked her why she was trying to push him to another when she could have him for herself.

Bisi couldn’t believe it; as much as she liked Akin (well, what was there not to like?) there was this little thing of a six months age difference.  Being that they ran in the same circles; everyone had an idea of how old the other was. It was an age difference that didn’t matter in friendship but could matter in a relationship especially if things got serious.

Akin’s question got Bisi thinking. What she knew of him, she liked and would have been content with just being friends if this seed hadn’t been planted. Akin pushed and Bisi who would hitherto have sworn she could never date a younger man began to consider it. history and society was littered with couples where the woman was older.

It was just six months which happened to fall on different years, and Akin had a good head on his shoulders; better than his elders Bisi had had the misfortune of dating. She reminded him of her age, and he didn’t seem to mind (or so she thought). For looking back now, she couldn’t remember his response if any. Perhaps she had just taken his silence for consent.

She thought it through; what were the implications of being with him? No more themed birthday parties; as much as we Nigerians attempt to form enlightenment you can’t have your birthday with your stated year and your husband have his the next year. She thought about the fact that they ran in the same circles and those in their circle knew each other’s age; were they going to be fodder for back talk and gossip? This also meant a future walking on shells. She couldn’t be too opinionated lest it be seen as she showing her age and treating him like a younger brother. Like this literarily meant she was going to have to be super extra submissive!

This also meant a lifetime of always being on her toes beauty and fashion wise. She would never be able to just chill and let nature take its course; like she couldn’t afford to let herself age naturally and she asked herself if she could keep up. Marriages with a much older husband still had husbands trading their wives in for a younger model not to think of one in which the wife was actually older.

However to Bisi, all this paled to the fact that she really liked Akin. Like really liked him, she wasn’t just needy because she wasn’t in a relationship at the time, she really liked him. She had gotten to know him and loved what she knew. Best of all, he didn’t mind (or so she thought), afterall he was the one coming for her.

Against her better judgement, against her sister’s advice she decided to give it a shot. Well; in hindsight, she had about three good months. Three months in which she fell deeper in love with Akin. She glowed, she raved about him, and everyone could tell she was in love. The pessimistic, non-emotional, commitment phobic Bisi actually saw a future with Akin. She told her friends, family and loved ones about him, wanted to show him off to the world, factored him into her plans; was willing to go the long haul; this was it, this was really it.

….. And then the end began.

Akin had always had a demanding job; she had one too so she could understand. It wasn’t the easiest task to get him on the phone; she had to call many times or leave a message and wait for him to get back to her. His reply time became more and more distant, he never initiated any call or contact anymore. She went through a really trying time and he wasn’t there for her, she even got more empathy from the random colleague and neighbor than from her boyfriend. Still she made excuses for him; he was busy. Little did she know that was the beginning of the end.

They limped along with her in ignorant bliss until he suddenly became incommunicado. She one day realised it appeared she was in a relationship with herself. She was literarily the one carrying the relationship and she asked herself; na so I like man reach? It wasn’t pride which stopped her from contacting him, neither was it self-respect. It was concern that if three months into a relationship she had to be the one doing all the running, what kind of future did that hold for them?

To test this she decided she won’t reach out to him, let him do a bit of the running. And just like that her fears were confirmed. She could see his prints on social media, he was ok, communicating with others, just not her. Four days on she broke and called him.

‘Are you ok, is there a problem?’ she asked.

He replied that he would call her back and they would talk as he couldn’t talk where he was.

He called her back four days later, late at night on her birthday. He forgot and had to be reminded by seeing the felicitations on her Facebook that evening.

Like every normal female she had raved about her birthday for weeks preceding that day, but her boyfriend forgot her birthday and had to be reminded on Facebook.

He apologised, but by then she already knew they were not ok. It was probably over. All she wanted was to know why.

He came to her office the next day with a cake, she joined him in his car and barely glanced at it as she mumbled a tense ‘thankyou’. She was very nervous, in the next moments she was going to hear the life changing verdict or reason if you please. But a verdict to her because it was obvious his mind was made up.

‘I know you’re angry with me.” Akin began. “I’ve been thinking, thinking a lot about us. About taking this relationship to the next level and I can’t get past this age thing. The fact that you’re older than me. Is it something we can get past or is it something that will become an issue later in life. If you notice I’ve been withdrawing for a while, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. And well, what do you think about it?’ He asked.

While he spoke, Bisi felt like the bottom of her world had dropped away. This was her deepest fear confirmed. Regardless of the question, it was obvious he had thought it true and felt there was no way forward; hence his withdrawal. She couldn’t speak. She felt like screaming out in pain. She tried to get a grip on herself; she couldn’t afford to break down in tears, she had to go back to work.

‘I have a question.’ She tried to speak through the pain. ‘You knew our ages before we began. If this was going to be an issue why did you bother beginning?’ She asked when she could speak.

For the life of her she can’t remember if he replied or what he replied. She just knew she had to get away.

‘I have to go back to work.’ She mumbled, opening the car door she fled into her office premises.

He called her on her mobile. ‘You forgot your cake.’ He said.

‘Thrash it.’


‘Thrash it!’ She repeated. ‘Just like you’ve thrashed our relationship, thrash it.’ She ended the call. The tears were now falling freely as she made her way to the nearest restroom. She spent the next hour weeping her heart out. She wept for her lost love. She wept for a lost dream, she wept for she had dared to dream.

She wept, for age is nothing but a number was the biggest lie of all.



Chinma Eke


The Ones We Let Get Away and The Ones We Get Away From


When Olamide dragged Dbanj into his rant against Don Jazzy/ the organisers of the Headies awards, it sparked off an interesting conversation between myself and a friend. This friend went on to analyse Mavin’s ‘Oga Titus’ track as a diss track towards Dbanj; I had no idea (LASTMA! I know, and I have no idea if this is true…if it was what the Mavins intended in recording that track, or if this was just a figment of my friends’ hyperactive imagination). We got into the Don Jazzy/Mavin (or Movits) vs. Dbanj post Mohits discussion. I am of the opinion that Dbanj hasn’t fared very badly post Mohits. Yes, the hits might not be there anymore but the endorsements are mouthwatering. My friend pointed out that as a musician (or entertainer as Dbanj refers to himself), you are only as good as your last hit, and in a few years Dbanj will fade and lose his endorsements if he continues without hits. I had to agree, because I can’t sing a line of Dbanj’s post Mohits release tracks, and same goes for a few people I know. We might never know what went wrong in that relationship, probably; only Don Jazzy and Dbanj know those details, but that’s not what this article is about.

That discussion got me thinking about the ones we let get away and the ones we’ve gotten away from. At the time of the separation, there probably was ‘something or somebody that looked like a better deal (Kanye in this instance)’, and we couldn’t wait to get on the ride only to realize that it’s a one chance ride headed nowhere!

We’ve all made those life changing decisions; that relationship we ditched for a person or people we’ve perceived as being better than our present, and this transcends opposite sex relationships; we’ve abandoned friends of the same sex for others we feel are better suited to our current needs or would help in actualizing our needs. Even in our careers, we’ve abandoned a job or career path in favor of one which looks better, only to discover a short while later that it’s all a lie.

I’m of the opinion that if the grass on the other side looks greener, it’s because people on the other side are standing knee-deep in manure. Someone on the other side is tending lovingly to the grass for it to thrive. So what we ought to do rather than abandon our yard for another (and perhaps not be able to take the stench of manure), is to work on our side of the fence and nurture our grass lovingly (in relating this to human relationships, this doesn’t go for abusive relationships; in that case; you need to get out yesterday).
Let’s also talk about the moments we’ve hesitated, and something went wrong, or perhaps not the way we would have wanted it to. We all know the idle hand is the devil’s work tool, it’s no secret nature hates vacuum; so the moment there’s a vacuum anywhere, you can count on mischief to fill it. Using the movie ‘The Perfect Guy’ as an example; I’m of the opinion that had Morris Chestnut’s character- Dave not created a vacuum in Leah’s life (played by Sanna Lathan), she wouldn’t have been open to Carter (Micheal Ealy), who turned out to be everything but ‘The Perfect Guy’. Dave’s delay in seizing the day ended up costing him his life.

It’s a classic that at the beginning of the year, we are all fired up about the ‘new year, new me’ thing, with our resolutions all on fleek; cut out time wasters in my life, ditch that bad habit and pick up yoga, study for that professional exam, get a better job, etc!

The list is endless; but in the midst of all this ‘new me’ decisions, how do we keep from making the ones that will define us negatively forever? I’m all for second chances, but they are some decisions you just cannot return from.
So, how do we know the right choices to make, when to keep playing, hold, fold and walk away? The safest thing to do might probably be to hold on, and see how it goes, but, some relationships are toxic, headed nowhere and are classic time wasters. Not all relationships are meant to last forever, some relationships are just meant for a duration and you move on (and no that doesn’t equal using people).

Also, there are some relationships we quit with the hope of a better future only to realise that we were the ones holding that other person down (yes, we can also be pulling down spirits to others!) From the example of Don Jazzy and Dbanj; most people probably expected Dbanj to fare better, he was leaving local behind and going international, but the reverse has been the case. The one left behind went on to thrive; Don Jazzy found his voice (how many of us remember those days when Don Jazzy didn’t speak in public and Dbanj was his mouth piece? Now Don Jazzy sings!), signed on more artistes and by all accounts is doing well for himself, Dbanj…I don’t know how well he is doing as an artiste.

So, fellow Bellanaijarians, share your stories on the ones you let get away, the ones you got away from and the moments you hesitated; in our interpersonal relationships, friendships, career, and in all spheres of life. Did you fare better, did you regret your actions and how did you self-correct?

Also, we could share stories of the ones we left behind who went on to fare better and how it made us feel. Have a great week!

*Article originally published on bellanaija.com


To Be Or Not? E7


‘Mommy is asking for your email and bb pin, she said she wants to give it to her friend whose son just returned from the US.’ “Oh no!” Emily exclaimed aloud. Her mom was on the matchmaking path again.

The thing with mothers is that they remain eternally hopeful; Emily’s mom wasn’t an exception. In the past, she had introduced Emily to all her ‘friends’ sons, Emily began to wonder where her mom got all these ‘friends’ from, because the women weren’t the ones she knew as her mom’s friends growing up. She wondered if there was an association of mothers with unmarried children, and they just exchanged children contacts at random.

Rolling her eyes, Emily closed the message, she would deal with that later, she was almost becoming a pro at handling all the men her mom tried to hook her up with. Besides, she and Julia her sister had devised a plan to give out wrong contact details to the matchmaking party.

Emily was sceptical about people especially men who needed to be match-made. What was wrong with them that they couldn’t see all the beautiful wonderful ladies all around them? Emily had long concluded that these men had to be flawed, how else could their inability to begin a relationship for themselves be explained.

No doubt some of these hook-ups worked, but naa, Emily wasn’t the least bit interested.

“You want to get some ice-cream?” Obi asked, bringing her back to the present.

“Sure.” She accepted, smiling secretly as she remembered the last time she was went to an ice-cream parlour with a man. Obi pulled into the parking lot of a shopping complex, they  both alighted and to get some ice-cream.

At the ice-cream booth, it became obvious Obi was a regular; the attendants were familiar with him and gave him preferential treatment.

When they returned to the car, she teased him about it. “You seem to be a regular everywhere we go, is it the stardom or………..”

“Or…………” He echoed as he drove out of the lot into traffic.

“I was going to ask if you’re taking me to all the places you take your girlfriends.” She asked, somewhat embarrassed at her train of thoughts.

He was silent for a while before replying: “Couldn’t I just be taking you to all my favorite places?” He asked quietly.

“Off course.” She latched onto that. “My curiosity got the better part of me.” She explained. “This ice-cream is really nice.” She changed the topic. “I thought I’d discovered all the good ice-cream places in Lag.”

She was kinda pissed with herself, what was she doing asking such questions, she knew better. Now he would think she was one of the usual Naija desperadoes!!!

It was all Buchi’s fault; yes she was laying this squarely at Buchi’s doorstep. She had been content with just being friends with Obi, it was Buchi who kept insisting a guy and a girl couldn’t just be friends. Where did Buchi get that logic? Emily pursed her lips and focused on the road. The day started off very well, maybe too well, maybe that was why she started thinking off and wishing for things that aren’t possible. But then, nothing is impossible.

Obi parked in-front of her building; Emily hurriedly unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door to alight. Obi placed a staying hand on her arm and said; “I know what you’re getting at, it isn’t a step I’m ready for now.”

“Ok.” She replied. She got down and waved as he drove off.

Whew!!!! The day had been a day and half.

Walking up the stairs, she dialled her sister’s number.

“Hello Emily.” Her sister answered almost immediately.

“Julia, I got your message.”

“Mom is at it again!” Julia said excitedly.

“I got that. Did you give out the wrong details as we agreed?”

“Yea, I did, but mom checked the number, and noticed it was wrong. She called me out on it, saying I didn’t know my sisters phone number.”

Emily sighed.

“It’s ok, if the person calls, I’ll handle it.” She had gotten to her door. She leaned against the wall to conclude her call, Linda must be in and she wasn’t in the mood to see her yet.

“Ok. Emily, how about that stuff I asked you for, you haven’t said anything.” Julia asked for some money to update her wardrobe, personally, Emily thought julia already had too many clothes, but Emily knew Julia wouldn’t desist till she gave in. So, rather than voice her opinion, she said instead; “I’ll see what I can do at the end of the month.”

Julia screamed for joy through the phone. “Thank you, thanks darling, you’re the bestest big sister in the whole wide world. Thank you!!!”

“You don’t have another sister to compare me with.” Emily replied, smiling as she ended the call.

She rung the bell, it took Linda forever to come to the door, when Emily could hear her laughter through the door. Obviously, she had a guest. Emily gritted her teeth and prayed for patience, they just had a month to go for Linda would finish her course and return to Abuja.

“Hey you, welcome.” Linda smiled brightly as she opened the door and ushered her in. “I have someone here to see you, I found this gentleman hanging around waiting for you when I returned. We’ve been chatting and he’s been telling me how much he loves you.”

Emily hissed out her frustration as she saw the ‘young man’ in question was none other than Korede.


My Super Ex-Boyfriend! All The Episodes.

All the Episodes of My Super Ex-Boyfriend in one post. Enjoy!

MY SUPER EX-BOYFRIEND! Episode One http://bit.ly/GNHW6W

MY SUPER EX-BOYFRIEND! Episode Two http://bit.ly/GQDT9R

MY SUPER EX-BOYFRIEND! Episode Three http://bit.ly/1cXlYJJ

My Super Ex-Boyfriend! Episode Four http://bit.ly/1990usV

My Super Ex-Boyfriend Episode Five http://bit.ly/1aDZ1Nm

My Super Ex-Boyfriend Episode Six http://bit.ly/1bnSotK

My Super Ex-Boyfriend! Episode Seven http://bit.ly/1hWkNQn

My Super Ex-Boyfriend! Episode Eight http://bit.ly/1ez8ftD

My Super Ex-Boyfriend! Episode Nine http://bit.ly/1k9cwo8

My Super Ex-Boyfriend! Episode Ten http://bit.ly/IEEFaZ

My Super Ex-Boyfriend! Episode Eleven http://bit.ly/J6RF93

Finding Happiness Episode Six

…..So you guys have graduated to PDA’s? I am watching!

I reread the sms, and checked again, who was it from? An unregistered number.

“Look what I just got?” I passed the phone to Nifemi as he parked in front of my house.

He took the phone and read the message. “Crazy prank.” Was all he said and he returned the phone to me, exited the car and came around to open my door.

I stared at him in shock. He was extremely calm for a guy whose girlfriend just received a veiled threat.
The Nifemi I know didn’t take such things calmly.
I stepped out of the car and walked with him into the house.

“Aunty welcome, my oga!” The gate man Jubril greeted.

“Jubril how fa?” I yawned, I was tired and needed to sleep, I pushed the message to the back of my mind, perhaps Nifemi was right. Aunt Mabel and Dupe were nowhere to be found, I guess they were asleep.

“You need to sleep.” Nifemi said as he kissed me on my forehead.

“Why don’t you spend the night here.” I whispered.

“No, I have an early morning football session tomorrow. You need to hit the sheets while I need to get going.”

“Tomorrow is sunday, no church?” I asked.

“No church.” He replied in a tone of voice that suggested he wanted no more arguments.

“Okay.” I conceded.

“Nyt babe.” He hugged me.

“Let me know when you get home, drive carefully.”

“You should go to sleep.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call.” I saw him to the door and stood there till he drove out.
I checked on Dupe and Aunt Mabel, and dragged out my night time routine to ensure I was awake when he called. And only went to sleep after his call.


The monday after, Nifemi bought me a diamond bracelet. It was truly beautiful, and I loved it. But it came at a time when Nifemi was being distant towards me and I couldn’t but wonder.

Recently he was getting secretive. Nifemi used to be so free with me he could ask me to take his calls if he was busy. Recently, he won’t let me touch his phone.

I got another message a week later, same passive threat that showed whoever sent it was watching us. I showed it to Nifemi again, and he took the number and promised to look into it.


I began making preparations for another buying trip. I was determined to handle the preparations myself, despite Nifemi’s offer of his secretary’s help.
I ran into a childhood friend at the Embassy. Rosy’s family lived on the same street as us and she and I were in the same class at school until her parents got divorced and she had to move away with her mother and other siblings. Cruel Nigeria. In the western world, the wife and children keep the house, here, they are kicked out.

“Keji?” She asked. She was walking in as I was leaving.
I recognised her instantly.

Rosy and I screamed in recognition and hugged each other.

She looked the same, just older as was to be expected, and fairer. Rosy was a beautiful chocolate coloured child, and now she was… white.

“I don’t have to ask how you are, you look good.” I complemented.

“Thank you.” Her smile further pronouncing her dimple. “You look good as well.” She said in a pseudo foreign accent (fone).

“You’re here for a visa?” I asked as we moved away from the doorway.

“Yes, my kids and I are going for a holiday.” She replied flashing her wedding ring in the way married women do. “What about you? Travelling? Are you married? I heard about you parents, I’m so sorry. Its been so long, we need to get together sometime to chat. We need to catch up. How is Nifemi?” She rapped on.

I laughed, Rosy was still the same; a thousand words per minute, added to this her lafa she sounded hilarious.

“Yes, I’m travelling. Buying trip. Not yet married, ehm, what else did you ask?” I replied.

“You’re still the same Keji George. Why aren’t you married yet. And Nifemi, we all thought you and he would end up together. Yes, I ran into him some weeks ago at the country club, with one girl clinging to him. You shouldn’t let him go o! You know back then….”

“Rosy!” If I didn’t interrupt her, she would have gone on forever. “How about you and I meet up for lunch later, and catch up.”

“Ok. Let’s exchange contacts.” She got out her phone. “When are you travelling, I hope we can be away at the same time, it will be so much fun.”

I gave her my contacts ant took hers, we hugged once more and parted.


I drove to a restaurant beside Dupe’s office, she and I had plans for lunch. Due to pressures at work, and me spending more time at Nifemi’s Dupe and I had barely seen each other recently. And I needed to talk with her, something was off with Nifemi, plus these anonymous text messages.

She got to the restaurant ahead of me and had ordered drinks already.

“How did it go at the Embassy?” Dupe asked while we waited for our food.

“Finally, its done. Gosh, the process is slightly stressful. Thank God its now done. I’ve even booked my flight, next week saturday.”

“Ok. Thank God. What was it you wanted to talk about?” Dupe asked.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is this Morenike George and Dupe Gbadebo?”
Dupe and I turned in unison towards the familiar yet unfamiliar voice. A voice I hadn’t heard in four years.

I froze. Olumide Fowora. My university boyfriend, my one true love besides Nifemi off course.

“Olu!” Dupe screamed, jumped up and jumped on him.

Traitor. Olumide and I hadn’t parted on friendly terms and Dupe was jumping all over him. Smh. I blocked them out and concentrated on my drink to compose myself. Today must be the day for running into old acquaintances.

“Hello Morenike.” He bent and whispered into my ear.

I was startled, I didn’t know they were done. “Hello Olumide.” I replied with a falsely bright smile. He was the only one who ever called me Morenike, and the way he said it, made it seem personal.

“I figured I needed to whisper in your ear to get your attention, since Dupe’s screams didn’t do it. You are pretending I’m not standing in front of you. It’s been a while, how are you?” The teasing quality of his voice plus the acquired british accent made his voice sound, delicious.

“I’m fine.” I replied curtly.

“Yea, I can see that.” He wouldn’t stop smiling as he looked me over. “May I join you ladies? I wasn’t exactly looking forward to lunch alone, but fate brought you ladies here.”

“Off course.” Dupe answered.
“No.” I answered at the same time.

“Okay, which is it?” His smile had turned mischievous.

I eyed dupe and stretched forth my hand in a gesture for him to join us.
He sat and a waiter immediately materialised to take his order.

“So Morenike, aren’t I lucky? Just two weeks back in Nigeria and I run into you. Best of all you aren’t wearing a wedding ring so you’re still single. For me. Aren’t I lucky?”

*Don’t forget to read, enjoy, comment and share.
Enjoy your week.

ff on t & IG: @chinmaeke

Finding Hapiness Episode Five

“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, you and me. I really don’t know what to say or how to say it, do you think we could try out the relationship thing?”

Despite that I was expecting something along those lines, I was shocked nonetheless.
Nifemi was usually very eloquent and adept at expressing his feelings, the Nifemi before me was different, a tad insecure. My heart melted.

“I think that’s a good idea. The relationship thingy I mean.” I replied encouragingly with a cheeky smile, trying to diffuse the tension.

He laughed in relief. “You just had to make me ask didn’t you?” He asked as he took me in his arms.

“I needed to be sure.”

He closed in on me. “I’ve just recently noticed how kiss able your lips are.”

Funny enough, me also. “Recently?” I asked in feigned coy.

“Yea, I really don’t know when, but I’ve started seeing you differently.” He tucked some stray strands of hair behind my ear.

“Was I ugly before?” I teased.

“No. I guess I just didn’t notice.”
I leaned in and kissed him. Fireworks!
A light bulb went off in my head, I eased away.

“What of Zara?” I asked him. “I haven’t seen or heard of her in a while, and you’re asking me….”

He sighed. “We ended.”

I had this feeling there was more to this story, and I wanted to know.
“Why, when?”

“A while back. It just ended.” He replied evasively.


He steered me homewards. “Not now. We’ll talk about it some other time.”

That was good enough for me. If Nifemi promised, he fulfilled, and I was happy that Zara girl was out of Nifemi’s life. Not just because of us, I just had this bad feeling about her.

And so we began, a new phase of our life-long relationship. To our surprise everyone greeted our relationship with an; ‘it’s about time!’ Like really? Were we the last to see the signs?

There were awkward moments between us though, we now saw each other in a new light and the transition wasn’t easy. Nevertheless, I was truly happy. Nifemi was an answer to my prayers.

The speed with which I sold out the clothes I got from Dubai amazed even me. I even had orders for the next time I would go. The only snag was a lot of the goods weren’t paid for immediately, but I made plans to travel again soon.

Nifemi and Dupe encouraged me to face this as a career, and I desperately needed to succeed.

Two months later, Nifemi and I were invited to his friends engagement party. His friend and old school mate Ehis was getting married in a month to the Love of his life; MaryAnne Phillips, a celebrity designer. MaryAnne’s friends were hosting the engagement party for the couple.

I had met MaryAnne once in the company of Nifemi, Ehis and the guys and she seemed nice, while Ehis was a regular face. He and Nifemi had been friends since forever.

I wore a short sleeveless purple gown paired with strappy pink sandals, the dress code was smart casual, and knowing I was going to be in the midst of fashionistas I wanted to make sure I represented without appearing to over try.

The party was held at an up scale restaurant in VI, and was already in full swing when Nifemi and I arrived.

“Look who’s here; the latest lovebirds.” MaryAnne announced with a smile when she sighted us.

We laughed. She was standing with two beautiful ladies, one of them visibly pregnant.

“You and Ehis are the latest lovebirds.” I replied as we hugged and air kissed.

“No honey, we’re practically oldies. Have you met my friends? Nifemi and Keji, meet Clara and Susan and co.” MaryAnne introduced us, indicating the pregnant lady as Susan and co.

We all laughed.

“Hello ladies.” Nifemi shook both their hands. “…And co.” He waved at Susan’s stomach.

Through our laughter, I couldn’t help noticing how adorable Nifemi was. I smiled my secret smile.

“Why have you ladies monopolised Nifemi?” Ehis asked as he walked up behind us. He hugged MaryAnne from behind and she leaned into him.

“Hello Ehis. Congratulations to you both.” I said to he and MaryAnne.

“Thank you!” They chorused

“You aren’t married yet and you are sounding alike already?” Clara teased.

“We’ll leave you ladies. Later darling.” Ehis and Nifemi walked away to go join other guys and I marvelled at the change in Ehis. He used to be geeky, more comfortable with machines than humans. Was that him? This suave man I just saw? There’s nothing like the love of a beautiful woman.

Clara left to check on the caterers.

“So Keji, I heard you’ve gone into clothes retail?” MaryAnne asked me.

“Yes. Putting my MBA to use building my business.” I replied. I accepted a glass of wine from a circulating waiter.

“That’s good. That’s better than just working for someone else.” Susan said.

“Do you want to get a boutique or mobile? MaryAnne asked.

“Hopefully a boutique soon.” I replied.

“Ever think of selling Nigerian designs?” She asked.

“As in our ethnic fabrics?”

“Not necessarily. Ready to wear designs, like what we have on.” MaryAnne indicated our gowns, she had on a georgeous pink gown I was sure was one of her designs.

“Yea I do, but the cost of production makes the prices of made in Nigeria clothes high.”

“True.” She replied. “I’m not supposed to talk business tonight, but come by the showroom soon, and we’ll show you some of our works.”

“Ok.” We exchanged contacts.

“I need to sit for a bit.” Susan announced.

“Are you ok?” I asked as we walked with her to a chair in the corner.

“Yes I am.” She smiled brightly.

“She’s having twins.” MaryAnne explained as Susan sat.

“Wow! Congratulations!” I gave her a side hug.

“Thanx dear. She returned the hug.

“I need to circulate. See you girls in a bit.” MaryAnne left to talk to some other guests and Susan and I got to know each other better. She pointed out her husband to me, and told me about her career as a criminal lawyer.

After dinner and a toast to the couple, the party wound down. Nifemi and I were among the last to leave.

As he drove into my street, I got an sms; So you guys have graduated to PDA’s? I am watching!

Special dedication to my Mom, whose birthday was on Monday the 17th of February. May your days be long, and happy and may you enjoy the bountiful harvest ahead, Amen. Love you plenty.
Chinma Eke.

Finding Happiness Episode Two

I was truly prepared to like her, after all she was Nifemi’s lady friend. But she made herself difficult to like.

She was beautiful; with halogen like fairness and a beautiful svelte figure on display in her little white dress paired with hawt orange shoes and purse.

Dupe and I exchanged a glance, like…. Where did she think she was going to? A fashion show? Dupe and I were wearing shorts paired with tank tops, her boyfriend who brought her was in jeans and tee-shirt, and she?

Nifemi introduced us, her name was Zara. Was that the name her parents gave her? Anyways, not my problem.

“You’re welcome, please sit.” I ushered them or more like her, Nifemi made himself at home. “Can I get you a drink, chapman, juice, malt?”

“Water please.” She replied coolly.

“It’s the first of January, have a drink with us.” I cajoled.

“No thanks.” She declined.

Oh! She wants to play like that? I will show her cool. Dupe and I went into the kitchen and emerged with a tray of drinks, and water, and a bowl of cashew nuts.

“Cashew nuts?” Dupe offered her.

“No thanks. Its so calorie filled.” She declined.

I rolled my eyes. Nifemi caught my eyes and gave me a stern look that meant: be nice. Why? She was obviously snubbing us.
“So, what do you do Zara?” I asked as we enjoyed our drinks.

She flipped her over twenty inches weave. “I’m a fashion model.”

That explains the calorie thingy. But… “Don’t you have to be taller to do that?” I asked, a barefooted me was taller than her plus heels.

Dupe cleared her throat loudly.

“Not any more.” Zara replied.

“Ok, what brands have you modelled for?” I asked.

“African fusion, Fez couture…” She rattled off.

“Never heard of them, and I know Nigerian fashion.” I edged her on.

“Is the food ready?” Nifemi interrupted.

“Yes, I’m hungry.” Dupe added. She got up. “We made your special.” She said to Nifemi.

“Beans and plantain?” He asked hopefully.

“Off course.” I replied. “Just the way you like it.”

“Ok, let the meal be served. I need to make a quick call.” He went into my room to make his call.

“Excuse me. Beans and plantain mixed together?” Zara asked.

“Yes.” I replied coldly. I had a feeling she was about to declare it unhealthy.

True to my suspicions. “I can’t eat that.” She declared.

“Its Nifemi’s best food.” I replied.

“Yea, but its so messy.”

“Ok.” Dupe came to her rescue. “We cooked some other dishes, I’m sure one will suit your tastes.” She said.

Dupe and I went to the kitchen and set the table. We had cooked so many dishes you would think it was a feast for ten.

“Table is set.” Dupe announced.

Nifemi and Zara walked to the table hand in hand.

Ah! Ok! Lovey dovey! Let’s sha enjoy the meal.

Needless to say, the visit didn’t go very well. sigh. All this people spoiling my New Year. After the meal, we settled to a game of Lagos Monopoly, where I beat the pants of them all and bought up most of the city.
Finally, Nifemi left with his clinging vine, and Dupe and I watched some re-runs on TV.

Normalcy gradually returned to our lives. Post holidays, Aunt Mabel returned from the village, Dupe resumed work (she worked for a bank in the customer care unit, and I got invited for an interview at a Telecom Company. I passed and was invited back for another interview, and the final interview with the business development manager with whom I was to work directly. That was a good sign, all those beginning of the year yama couldn’t affect me.

The interview went well. Afterwards,Mr Badmus (the business development manager), a middle aged well preserved man, congratulated me saying he was highly impressed, and the job was mine, I should come back the following day for my appointment letter.

“Thank you sir.” I gushed, happy beyond words. I shook his outstretched hand.

“Why don’t I take you out for a celebratory drink.” He said smiling at me while still holding on to my hand.

Uh oh! “Thank you sir, but I don’t drink sir.” I declined politely, gently but firmly tugging my hand out of his clasp.

“That’s not a problem, we could just hang out, go somewhere, relax…..”

The suggestion behind his words hung like a thick mist.

“Sir.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry I already have plans.” I replied carefully.

“Look, let me lay it down for you. You’re a big girl, you know how it goes. If you want to receive that appointment letter tomorrow you had better be nice to me.” Mr Badmus said with all seriousness.

I looked at him with distaste at his suggestion. “Sir, I am willing to do my job as will be specified in my appointment letter when I receive it. Right now, I do not understand your request.” I said calmly locking away the anger boiling within me.

He laughed. “You want to play smart? All right.” He returned to his seat behind the desk. “Your appointment letter is conditioned on how nice you are to me tonight.”

I just turned and left the office and hurried to my car. I had no more words for him.
In the comfort of my late parents car, I let the tears loose. I wailed at life’s unfairness, I cried because I knew I could never do that which that man asked of me.

Long minutes later, I wiped my tears and composed myself. I decided to go to Nifemi’s office rather than return home right away.
I exchanged pleasantries with everyone from the doorman to his secretary, I was a well known face at Nifemi’s office. Alice his secretary asked me to go on in. I went in and sat in one of the visitors chairs opposite him. Nifemi was on the phone when I entered, one look at me and he knew something was off. He quickly ended the call.

“It didn’t go well?” He asked.

I burst into fresh tears and he was immediately beside me. I narrated the tale to him, he stiffened in anger when I got to the part where I was propositioned.

When I finished he sighed. “You aren’t going to take him up on that offer.”

“Off course not.” I agreed.

“What did you say his name was again?” He got up and walked back to his chair.

“Nifemi no.” He had gone into his defensive big brother mode.

“I can find out.”

“You won’t. Let it go Nifemi.” I said softly.
I watched him calm himself, I knew Nifemi so well.

“I want to give you a trip to Dubai, but I had Alice wait for the outcome of this interview. As it stands I think you can go as soon as possible, you get a two weeks, all expense paid vacation in Dubai.”

I think my brain must have regressed to Abacus OS, what was Nifemi saying? A two weeks all expense paid trip to Dubai?
I screamed for joy!

Yesterday, Chinma Eke’s blog was a year old! (Drum roll, dancing happy), and I want to thank everyone that has stuck by me through the past year, the blog stats have been amazing and I couldn’t have done it without y’all. Thank you.
These year, we are going to have lots of freebies, beginning with the Printivo.com 10% of all printing from now till the 22nd of February. For details, see the previous blog post.
Keep visiting Chinma Eke’s blog, read, comment, contact me, share; get your family, friends, neighbours, acquintances, enemies to visit, share on your TL’s, etc.

Thank you, you guys rock!

Chinma Eke.

Finding Happiness

There are some arguments about the sentimentality attached to the first of January; some believe it’s a day like any other, no big difference, while others believe the ‘new year, new beginning’ mantra. I’m not sure I care which group is right, but I do know this shouldn’t be the way to begin the year.

I returned home from church past one am this morning, and had immediately gone to bed. I was driven from the comfort of my bed in the late morning by hunger. I made myself some sandwiches, poured a glass of juice, and moved to the sitting room to eat in front of the TV.

The card was conspicuously placed on the centre table and I picked it up.

“Aaaaarrrggghhh!” I screamed as I read through the card.

Dupe, my friend and flatmate ran out from her room, also in her pyjamas, clutching her phone to her chest.
“What?” She asked. Her eyes darting around, searching the sitting room for the cause of my scream.

I passed the card to her, and hastily sipped some juice. I choked.

“Sorry.” Dupe said, coming closer. She perched on the arm of the chair. “What’s the problem, why did you scream like that?” She asked after reading through.

“Charles is getting married!” I said hoarsely when I could talk.

“So?” Dupe asked flippantly tossing the card on the side stool.

“Just last month, he was here telling me how much he loved me. He’s getting married?” I repeated.

Dupe laughed. “I don’t understand your pain, I thought you said you aren’t interested?”

“Yes, but?” I picked up the card and re-read again. “Ha, I’ve always said it, people named Charles are evil.”

“Don’t start.” Dupe chided. “Please, is that why you disturbed my beauty sleep?” She yawned as she got up. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Don’t forget Nifemi is bringing his girlfriend over at two.” I reminded her.

“Wake me when they get here.” She replied from the door.

“How did the card get here?” I asked.

“Jubril gave it to me last night after you left for church.” She shouted from her room.

My appetite gone, I threw the offending card behind the sofa and picked the remote to browse through channels.

I couldn’t concentrate, how could Charles be getting married? Just like Olumide, Festus, Chukwuma,…. Everyone of my exes or toasters had either gotten married or was about to.
What was wrong with me? A little background on me, I’m Keji (Morenikeji George), Twenty-five, no job, no boyfriend, orphan, no siblings.
My parents died in a plane crash last year. I almost fell apart, but for about my friends; Dupe and Nifemi.

Dupe and I met in university during our registration, we discovered we were birthday mates; same day, same year. We became fast friends and have remained friends since, and when my parents died, she moved in with aunt Mabel and I.

Aunt Mabel is my mother’s distant relation. She was our maid, my nanny and has remained with the family ever since. She was presently in her forties and had never been married, nor have children. After my parents died, she stayed on to take care of me. She was more like a second mother to me. She was presently in her village to celebrate the. Christmas and new year holidays.

Nifemi has been my life-long friend, the boy next door. I am an adopted child, and in the nineties when I grew up, people weren’t so accepting of adopted children. I was either avoided or taunted. Not Nifemi, my earliest memory was of him calling me ‘Baby’, and treating me like his little sister. An only child himself, he was my friend and big brother, older by eight years.

In my early teens, while walking home from school, I walked past Nifemi and his friends, said hi to him. Next I heard, a fight broke out. I turned around to see Nifemi pummelling one of the guys on the floor while the other guys tried to separate them.

“Nifemi! Stop!” I screamed, and he did. Later, he told me, the guy had made a joke about my parentage and he had immediately set him straight. That cemented my adoration, Nifemi became; ‘My hero!’ My go to guy, the one I could call at any hour… You get my drift.

Nifemi; who studied and practices corporate law, immediately donned the wig and gown in my defence when my parents died and I needed a lawyer (my father’s family wanted to claim the insurance money). It was him I called when a date got shitty, Nifemi was all round wonderful. He was bringing his girlfriend to the house later today, I hope she’s nice, I hope she lasts.

So, back to me. Why couldn’t I keep a guy, or find a job for that matter. Dupe thinks I am too picky on both issues, I don’t think so. I am pretty, even if I say so myself. I’m five feet- six inches, chocolate complexioned, with all the right curves in the right place (like an african woman). I’m nice to be with, and have no problem attracting guys. So how come they never stay (in fairness to them, I ended most relationships). But why can’t I get my own ‘Prince Charming’? Is it too much to ask for a certain kind of man? Someone like, Nifemi?
Also, I have an MBA, graduated with a distinction, so why can’t I get a job with a blue chip company?

You will agree with me this shouldn’t be first of January thoughts, they are more suited to thirty-first December, to go with the old year. Now, that Charles had to bring it up, trying to make nonsense of my prayers last night. I hissed.
“Lai lai! The devil is a liar!”
I reduced the TV volume and got down on my knees to pray; my own man must come, my own job must come! 2014 is my year! Can I get an; Amen?

Christmas Frenzy Episode Two

Adanma ended up not going to Okechi’s. Charles took over her evening with her blessings. He took her with him to hang out with his cousins and friends. He introduced her to all as his ‘woman’.
Much later that night he dropped her off at home.

That Christmas season was really Adanma’s season. She barely had alone time. She was either with Ifeanyi, or with Charles. Ifeanyi was more reserved and not a night crawler, so she saw him more during the day. He came to her house, met her parents and also took her to his mother. Her family liked and welcomed him.

However as with all young girls, she was attracted more by the sparkle of Charles and his crew. They were louder and more flamboyant. Told exotic tales, and made out their lives to be exciting.

Adanma found herself tilting more towards Charles than Ifeanyi. Charles was an ‘international businessman’ while Ifeanyi was a ‘salary earner’, and everyone knows bankers do not earn much these days. Charles had cool swag and promised to take her to all those exotic places and she was instantly swayed in his direction. Ifeanyi was still taking it a step at a time, while Charles was cruising at full speed.

On the second of January, Ifeanyi returned to Lagos to resume work. Adanma had also planned to return on the same day but she didn’t. Charles asked her not to, that she should stay back and attend his cousin Tochukwu’s wedding with him as his intended. This was like an answer to her prayers and she instantly stayed back. Her mother cautioned that she return to the city and to work, that if Charles wants to marry her he should go through the proper channels. Her mothers caution fell on deaf ears, she had seen her husband and was going to obey him.
Her mother advised her to call her boss at work, even if it meant lieing to him about the cause of her delayed return, but she shouldn’t just ignore and stop work like that. Adanma refused. Charles said he would setup her own supermarket for her, what did she need a job for again?

On Tochukwu’s wedding day, Adanma worked and worked. She was the errand girl, the go to person for any need. She did all these in a bid to impress her in-laws, and in the hope that soon it would be her turn and another will do the same for her.

Finally they returned to Lagos on the fifteenth of January. She travelled with them. When they drove into the compound, she smiled and nodded silently at the magnificent building, the cars all parked and they began off-loading their luggages. Tochukwu and his wife walked into the house and left them to offload.

Adanma was shocked when Charles carried his bag and asked her to follow him. He walked around the house to the boys quarters. Her countenance fell with each step they took towards the back of the house. He slotted in a key and unlocked the door. She hesitated at the door as he went in.

“Welcome to my house.” He said turning to her. “Come in.” He bade her with a welcoming smile and outstretched arms.

She went in, full of questions but plastering a fake smile on her face she walked into his arms.


The day after they all returned to the city was a monday, Adanma was up early as she was used to. She went to the kitchen to join in the preparation of breakfast as their apartment didn’t have a kitchen. Tochukwu and Chika left for ‘work’, while Charles remained in bed and only awoke at about noon, only to laze around until his cousins returned in the evening then he joined them as they went out on a drinking spree.

This pattern continued for the rest of the week, and Adanma became worried.

She got to know the house Charles had told her about belonged to Tochukwu his cousin. The car he cruised around the village with also belonged to Tochukwu. Even most of the clothes he wore were his cousins’.

One day, she broached the subject of going back to America with him.

“Babe relax, I’m on vacation.” He said dismissively.

A month went, no sign of the vacation ending soon. Her family was beginning to suffer because she wasn’t sending home the stipend she used to. She brought up the topic of the promised supermarket with Charles.

“Babe, I’m cash strapped right now. Later.” Was his response.

Months went by, his drinking habit escalated. He started the day with alcohol and was constantly sipping. he was getting short tempered and threatened to hit her when she spoke up against it.

They were living on Ada’s savings and Tochukwu’s largesse.

By the third month, she suspected she was pregnant and bought a home test kit. The test confirmed her suspicion and she joyfully told Charles the good news.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Was his shocked response.

“No babe, the test confirmed it.” She said.

He laughed shortly. “You are even more stupid than I thought. How could you let yourself get pregnant?”

“We….” She pointed to him and herself, confused at his reaction.

“We what? Can’t you see this nigga is trying to begin his life afresh, you think I have room for a baby in my life now? You think I have room for you?” He shouted.

“But, I thought,…. You said.”

“Get out of my sight.” He scoffed and returned to his drink.

Distraught and in tears, she ran to Ngozi, Tochukwu’s wife.

After explaining her dilemma, Ngozi consoled her, and told her Charles’ story as she heard it from her husband.

Charles had been arrested at the airport on entry into the United states of America. Tried and jailed for drug related offences. Seven years later, he was released and deported without a penny. Charles had nothing to offer, nothing to his name. The next plan should have been for him to join Tochukwu’s business but he was busy drinking his life away.

Adanma wept. She had been totally stupid. She had fallen for tall tales and a promise of being an Americana. She was pregnant for a man who wasn’t married to her, she had no job and no savings. She had let out her old apartment. Discouraged any contact from Ifeanyi. Where was she to begin from?

Happy New Year once again to everyone, may 2014 be all that you want it to be.
Adanma’s story ends here, sadly. We’ll do some quick recaps of some old stories before another begins.
Keep visiting Chinma Eke’s blog, have a blast in this year.


Chinma Eke.


And so lt began.
We had our second date, this time he came to the mainland.
We talked for hours on the phone.
The third date he invited me to his house. His house is beautiful, tastefully, professionally decorated.
He made us a meal; spaghetti and egg stew. We talked for hours, we exchanged sob stories about past relationships and disappointments. He sought my opinion on a range of issues from his music to the whole entertainment industry, to Nigerian social issues.
Hours later, when I left for home in a taxi, we were officially an item.
Contrary to what people think, I didn’t date Zach because of his celeb status. That was the major fact he had against him. In the course of our discussion/toasting, I made him spell out what he wants from me(yes, I believe in intent being spelt out, no assumptions), he did the whole ‘meaningful relationship’ speech, I did the same, with the proviso that I was in the relationship with Zach, not Zedeye. Secondly I wouldn’t take any form of abuse or infidelity.
We were such a good fit, we had almost the same interests, could talk for hours about everything and nothing.
My girls, Susan particularly, said I was beginning to sound like a ‘Zach fanatic’, Zach this, Zach that, Zach said… Like the ‘pastor said’ fanatics.
I was happy.

A couple of weeks later, Zach had to go for a show in Ghana. He was away for a week. Immediately he returned and called me, I hopped in a taxi, traffic was crazy, the usual unexpected but expected Lagos traffic. A journey that should take an hour plus max took over three hours. I stopped to get Pizza in his favourite flavour.
His manager; Tunde was leaving as I arrived at his place, we exchanged pleasantries and I went in.
He was playing a game on his Ipad in the living room.
“Hey babe.” I went to him, dropping the pizza box on a side stool.
He didn’t acknowledge nor respond.
“Babe are you ok?” I sat on the arm of the couch.
“Where are you coming from?” He asked coldly.
“My house. Babe there was so much traffic, gosh! I wonder what witchcraft convention is taking place. How are you, how was your trip?”
He paused the game and set the Ipad aside. “So you’ve been stuck in traffic for what?” He glanced at his watch. “You left home close to four hours ago.” He accused.
“Babe, you know how Lagos traffic can be.” I cajoled, rubbing his back.
“And you couldn’t be bothered to text, or send any kind of message? I tried calling you twice without sucess.”
“My phone has been doing hangberry all day, I’ve restarted it so many times, still no difference.”
“You have two phones.”
“There’s no airtime on that one. Here, see for yourself.” I brought out my phones from my pockets and gave them to him. He didn’t take or acknowledge them. I mentally rolled my eyes.
“And you bought pizza? I didn’t know pizza is now sold in Lagos traffic.” He said sarcastically.
“I stopped by the pizza place, I got your favourite flavour.” I slid into the chair beside him.
He got up, picked up his phones, and ipad, and without a word walked out of the sitting room.
I stared at him open mouthed. Did that just happen? Really what is he pissed about? Am I responsible for Lagos traffic? My first impulse was to leave, it appeared I wasn’t welcome.
I calmed myself, it’s probably jet-lag and tiredness. I took a few minutes to deep breathe and really be calm. I drank a bottle of water from the kitchen fridge before going after him.
He was in the bedroom, lying in bed, still playing game, or attempting to, because from the sound of it he was failing and restarting over again. I stifled a laughter, put on a straight face and ‘entered the lion’s den’.
“Babe, what’s the iss?” I asked softly, perching on the edge of the bed.
“If you don’t know, then there’s no point.” He replied after a while in the same angry tone.
“I don’t read minds, I think if there is a problem, you should share with me.”

Again, he set the Ipad away, and sat up. “You left your house four hours ago, you come in here with a box of pizza claiming traffic and you expect that excuse to fly? Who asked you to get pizza? Haven’t I said it time and time again; I hate surprises, before you buy anything for me, ask me! Is that too much for you to comprehend? You could buy pizza, you couldn’t buy airtime, couldn’t send me a text, bbm, or a facebook or twitter message? Or what, your internet subscription expired as well?” He was shouting and dramatising by the time he concluded.
“Babe, you are shouting at me.” I pointed out calmly.
He glared at me with such anger. “You know what?” He paused for a while, he sighed. “As you can see I’m busy.” And he went back to the game.
I wisely refrained from pointing out to him that what he was busy doing was ‘playing a game’. As I sat there in silence, while he ‘attempted to play the game’, I couldn’t for the life of me comprehend what the issue was. I stared at him, considered swatting his bottom(yes, I’m mischievous), but decided against it, he just might burst a vein.
My stomach growled in hunger, I remembered the pizza in the living room, I went to get it.
“Babe, we should eat the pizza while it’s still warm.” I said from the doorway.
No response. He was on the phone.
I did a U-turn, sat at the dining table and ate one-third of the pizza, washed it down with the complementary soft drink, carried my handbag, returned to the bedroom door and said loudly enough so he won’t claim not to have heard; “babe, I’m leaving.” I didn’t wait for a response, I just walked away.
With shoulders squared and head held high, I left the compound. The drive from his house to the estate gate takes about ten minutes, I think I walked it in less time than that.
At the taxi park, I entered the first one and told the driver to move. He started the engine and asked me; “Where to madam?”
Where to where?
“Surulere.” I answered when my brain processed the question. When he got to my street, I directed him to Clara’s parents house, didn’t feel like going home yet, my mum was home, one look and she would know something wass wrong.
Clara immediately called Susan, and I vented. Trust my girls, they’ve always got my back. They’ll probably point out the areas where I went wrong later, but they got that I needed to just vent. And they came through with the needed ‘Zedeye was wrong’ lines.
Two hours later, a bunch of plantain fried and eaten with fruit juice, Susan and Clara saw me home and returned to theirs.
Later that night, I was already into my first round of sleep when my phone rang. Zach’s ring tone jolted me awake.
Huh? Why is he calling me, by, I checked the time, past eleven. It was almost ringing out when I answered, waiting for him to talk first, if he was still angry I would sharperly end the call and go back to sleep.
“Hey baby!” He sang to me. “You sleeping already?”