Monday, 18 August 2014

Someone is pounding the door like yam in a mortar.

I run out in my towel...geez...who could that be?

And there she stands, all glorious with her sun stricken face. My Frenemy.

''Where have you been?'' Where did you put your phone?'' ''Are we still going out?''

She reeled out questions in succession draining my brain cells of the little oxygen left from running and causing them to somersault with the limited time I was required to answer the many questions.

As I followed her into the living room, I mentally awaited the rapid gossip that would follow in the name of gist.

I crossed my leg on the red sofa in my newly decorated grey and white living room and I thought ''ewolarigbo''

 And as if on cue...she starts.

''Holly's husband is gay, someone saw him at an event last night kissing a man''

''Did you know Bimpe went to do IVF, that is how she had triplets, apparently, she has fertility issues?''

''Gayle is pregnant, can you imagine? that her boyfriend has knocked her up for the 3rd time and still refused to marry her''

Can you imagine the colours Mosope picked out for her wedding, Yellow and Red. Yellow and Red ke? What kind of combination is that?'' she chimed in her Locally Acquired Foreign Accent.

And I have had enough experience to know that anything I say during this period of gist CAN and WILL be used against me in future gist with her other frenemies.

So I listen, nod, express surprise, express alarm where necessary and pray that this Cup would pass me over.

And as if the heavens heard my internal cry, her phone rings and she lets out a shrill, it is her dad and she forgot she was to meet him for some meeting.

I thanked the God of my father and escorted her to the door making an outward show of feeling bad that she was leaving but screaming an internal Alleluia at the joy of the peace that would soon follow.

I shut the door and made my way back into my bedroom where my husband lay waiting for me...and as soon as I shut the door behind me, he echoed...''''

Gros Bisous.