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Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

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Saturday 8 September 2018

Plucked And Ripe It's Time

    Surfacing like a drunken tea bag saturated in too much of everything, I know I am pregnant and full and ready to pop. Drowning in words and longing for action or some special way back to the past, to a time of my innocence. To the time where I was swimming in a sea filled with opportunity and interacted with people without judging others. I know I am a little crazy and hang on too much to my childhood, but can you blame me? Left right and center, they came and gave and offered. And like the naive child I was, I assumed the opportunities will forever be there waiting. So I said no, burnt bridges and continued to swim. My arrogance didn't let me see that a thousand opportunities has dwindled to ten and by the time I did, I desperately clung to it. To make matters worse, I ran to my burnt bridges and act like we are still friends. My attitude made things worse and made repel every little chance I had.
I cut off the little sanity I had and let superficial friends take over, the clothes the shoes the hair styles made me connect to the only real part of me that brought me joy. Music and Films, I watched intensely and believed deeply. And then, realized I was deeply and truly alone. So I turned to logic and algorithms, who will most likely give me safe fun. That my dear was fun and made my university life bearable. Until I find out that I was alone and just an experience for them. So I just turned off and dissect my life. All to find out who is honest and real and who isn't?
The answer was crying clear family of course, so I rebuild bridges there and this in turn helps me learn to rebuild bridges with other people.

      Creamed, churned and fluffed, I mix the butter and sugar and watch it all rise and increase in mass. I am baking a cake and this delicate process I have done since my teenage years, excited me. I whisk and then I add the eggs, condensed milk and butter cream. Just two drops of vanilla extract and then I fold all and put in a baking pan. I watch in awe as it rise and bakes. The aroma fills my room and I take it out of the oven and place it on a rack. I am going to cover this fresh cake with yellow coconut  icing and then red and blue royal icing.
 Today is her birthday and this my journey hasn't friends talking. I don't blame Ajoke or Celine and I definitely have not told Nnoye any of it. I just don't feel the need to justify myself or defend my actions.
   Plucked And Ripe It's Time and I have to reshape my ride. My interesting ride through this time, right here and right now.
It's a full week now and I have been coming here everyday to see his mother. And in a way to spend time with him, it feels good to just sit and talk. And it also feels like she is better, especially when I step into the room and she hears my voice.
I enter with the cake and she sits up and stretches her hands and I take my cake knife and slice into it.
'No pictures?', Mrs. Ojora asks.
'Oh okay', I say and start to drop the cake in a tray.
'Let Daniel take us and then he can join us by taking a selfie'
 I watch Daniel and he watched me too, it was so intense that I look away. I think his mum noticed and squeezed my hand with a smile on her face.
'If I die now, I know he is in good hands'
'Mummy, you are going nowhere'.
  I didn't like to think about death but so many parents and grandparents were going away and leaving this world.
Daniel was staring again and making it so obvious he was into me.
Usually, I did not care but I was attracted to him and the idea of our families becoming one. It scared and made me happy at the same time and I adjust my and tuck my hair behind my ears.
'Look at the phone and not at my son'
 Daniel stupidly kept taking the pictures and then he runs to us and takes pictures.
Daniel like the typical guy he is just uploaded without checking to see if the angle was right or the hair was perfect. He I quickly checked my phone and was relieved I looked good in all the pictures.
'I should fall sick more often', Mrs. Ojora adds and takes both our hands into her one hand.
I suddenly feel choked and cannot breathe, I remove my hand from theirs and decide to end this. The only way I can is by deflecting all the attention away from me and reminding them to focus on what matters.
'Its fine, have you seen your grandchildren?'
'Ade, the doctor advised we don't bring them here'
Daniel noticed I was shivering and takes off his blazer and puts it on me. I like the attention I am getting but I have to ask, to what end?
My phone rings and I know instinctively that it is Ajoke and she does not stop trying to reach me. I step out and pick up the phone.

'Oh my goodness Ade, are you back with Daniel?'
'His mother had a mini stroke'
'My goodness, what and you didn't...'
'You and Bala are enjoying rekindling your love, I didn't want to dampen the mood'
How long and did you bake her a cake?'
'Her birthday is today'
'And you didn't invite me'
'You don't like hospitals'
'What does she like?'
'Dates.. Ripe delicious dates'
'Lucky me, Bala has six crates'
'Come with mine'

 Mrs. Ojora was happy and loved the dates and just as we are all laughing and enjoying the evening, Nnoye knocks and steps inside.
I didn't even realize I was sitting on Daniel's lap until Nnoye walked in.
 I felt the need to stand up and Daniel locks his arm around my waist and keep me there.
Behind Nnoye is Sandra and she has to push Nnoye so she has space to enter the room.
Mrs. Ojora accepts all pleasantries and Nnoye stares at Daniel and I and bites her lips. Sandra clears her throat and feels the need to speak up.
'No other chairs in here?'
'Because my mother does not want visitors'
 Instead of Sandra to shut up, she feels like the bold one and continues to speak.
'You have visitors...'
'Ade and Ajoke are family', Sandra adds a little peeved by his statement.
''Nnoye is the mother of your child, your first son'
'Sandra stop', Nnoye was embarrassed by her need to defend her.
'And you I don't know, Nnoye can you get this stranger out of my mother's room. And if you do not want me to revive the restraining order. Teach her some manners'
  Daniel was irritated and buzzed security and two hefty men knock and leave the door wide open.
'Sandra I did not send you...'
'You are too soft'
'And my son is my world, if you pull a stunt like this again. I will cut you off permanently...'
'See you, are you not the one that got upset when Ajoke liked a picture of Daniel, Ade and Mrs. Ojora?'
 Nnoye storms out and Sandra dodges the arms of the guards who refuse to let her through.
'Let me go', she punches the arms that block the exit.
The security men look at Daniel and he signals and they let her go. She scuttled out of the room and Mrs. Ojora laughs and Daniel, Ade and Ajoke join him and wipe tears of laughter off their faces.

Flocks of pigeons peck at the face of the window outside and that too makes me laugh. It seems even now I am making memories that make life memorable, please do too.

**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 59**

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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede