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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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Sunday, 16 September 2018



I wil laugh at your jokes and not think of words even though they make me croak. I will watch as you grow and frown at your pokes, regardless of all the pains they inflict as I try hard to feign been tough. I will wash away the tears, streaming down all these years and increase the volume of all the cheers. This man I watch as I try to hush all my emotions. Harmless they may seem but taunting all that I guard as your persistence breaks down all my protective barriers. Giving me hope of a life free from the jaws of boredom, to one worthy of the scandalous reality show I've dreamed of living. Last year, this year or was it, yesterday Today or tomorrow. I've cared too much about how the world would judge me and missed too much of life's amazing gifts, wrapped up as scandalous by people who don't remember my name.
Now I can't help but feel like I'll scream when I can't, but die when I don't. And wake up while I sleep and cry when I laugh, two seconds into realizing what you said a minute ago.
What an array of contradiction, my creative mind conjures. Should I just Laugh out loud and wait until you notice. Or spend endless tired nights, praying I will not die a novice.
I'll shout so you hear and hold you near for now. Until I stop and Say.... Talk My Dear I Am All Arms.

       The afternoon is quiet and I listen out for the speakers blaring and projecting unwanted brainwashing. It's pay this or you owe this, it's you will die if you don't do this or that. Sometimes, I believe we here in Nigeria are in the transition phase of a society that is a mix of Salem in the sixteen hundreds and the Handmaid tales.
 This crazy world unlike others, where the weight of the world lies on the shoulders of a woman and the blame of the woes in the world too.

  I reminisce on conversations made with blames assigned to me from both sexes and just grow immune to all this game.
Most of the time, that is.
  Now I think I can be human most of the time it takes two to tango. So Darwin was right, it's survival of the fittest, regardless of the sex you are.
The loud speakers blast louder and remind women the home is theirs to keep and sustain. All prayers to keep the family alive is in their hands. I ponder and think about the boys in the audience. What they are absorbing and learning from it all. This old world the men spitting into the loud speakers are creating, while the world builds spacecrafts and cures to diseases.
 I am a feminist, right. I know you can tell. A poet and an optimist, I have traveled this world believing the next hour will be better.
 A growl from the sky erupts and makes my eyes flicker. Steady rainfall lands on the roof of the commercial bus I am in and makes soothing music. My car is on a break and the internet linked taxis won't accept my card only form of payment. They want cash and scam me into paying the extra four hundred charge for cancellation.
 I think I am a little worried or should I say that I am a little anxious. Then I see it, a scrawny man with a large laminated book with tucked in faded shirt and ugly khaki brownish navy bluish trousers.
He must have been in his mid fifties or had a hard forties. The bus conductors shirt was squeezed into this man's dirty palm as he insisted that he was owed fifty. Others in the bus remind him of the cost of the fare and he insists he is been scammed and reigns curses of biblical proportions at the bus conductor. As the man walked away and the bus drives off, I hear the sudden impact of a large object hit our vehicle. The driver slammed on the brakes and I look back to see a shattered rare windscreen.
The angry man had thrown a stone and it nearly hit a humble woman. The perpetrator ran and the B's conductor chased and out driver reversed. People waged that he will not be caught and in two minutes the old man hid in a shop and was caught. The bus  turned left and then right beside the police van. Inside a now humble old man looked dazed. His game was up and I could not help but think of all the situations we find ourselves in.
 I have felt his rage and had this need to just act out and prove I could not be cheated. But deep down inside, I knew that my actions will definitely have consequences. So I restrain my rage and take deep breaths and then, move on.
For our old man that an angry mob wanted to lynch, I stood far enough to watch it all unfold safely of course. But the policemen were civil and stopped the angry crowd and I stopped a taxi and leave it all behind.
 I hope Ajoke appreciates the stress I'm going through to make this lunch in her distant auntie's house. Her mum had begged her to attend and she promised she would but forgot. So, just an hour after battling with my car I got the last minute invite. I didn't want to use an ATM in this area and instead got my mechanic to come and pick the car up. Don't worry, I track my car and my mechanic knows.

  The taxi got me there two hours later and I just could not wait to chat with a familiar face. First I had to change into the shoes Ajoke alone could pick, they were so high they scared me.
  I put on a smile and stepped out feet first and just like an Ajoke party, the paparazzi onslaught was massive. I had to tone down my smile and breath steady, because they would not let me through.
 The smell of jasmine filled the air and I inhale and smile and then look around the area in search of her slim and even dark gorgeous face. Her mile long lashes put mine to shame and we hug and screech and instinctively turn and pose for the many cameras waiting. I had on an army green bandage dress with leaves tie and die patterns all over. Our green fascinators were identical and our camouflage peep toe pencil heeled shoes that were six and a half inches tall.
The antihistamines kicked in and I hold her elbow, code for there is gist and my toes can't take anymore torture.
We head into a private room and I elevate my squashed toes.
'Ajoke, I told you I don't do these high shoes anymore'
'Then you could have worn the one inch alternative I bought you...'
'In this dress, nope'
'So, Sandra....'
'... Had her five minutes of fame'
'Daniel sued on our behalf and submitted the real video as proof with a powerful cease and desist letter...'
'I trust Daniel Ojora'
'So you two are...'
'In a date on emmm Wednesday'
'Why Wednesday?'
'Karaoke, you and Nnoye can come of course'
'Sandra isn't invited'
'The game plan is that she breaks the court order and shows up...'
'You guys are mean'
 I rock myself and laugh a bit.
'Is she even still on the show?'
 I grab my chapman and sip some of it.
'Is she?'
'Bad girl and later you will say I am the bad one'
We both laugh.
'Is Nnoye here?'
'In the toilet..'
'Haba, she abused me too in the video. As far as I am concerned, she doesn't exist. After all, all shows can only have one villain'
Nnoye steps out and shrieks.
'Ade, I am so sorry. I really pick crazy friends. I didn't think she will go on like that...'
'it is alright'
'So how is Daniel and my baby?'
 Ajoke choked on her drink and looked at Nnoye.
 I smile and cup my stomach, the foolish girl thinks she is sharp.
 Nnoye almost passed out and Ajoke screamed and hugged me and knocks me over back on the bed.
Bala knocks and enters the room and paused at the sight of Ajoke on top of me and Nnoye looking dazed.
'You know I always suspected you two', he adds and shuts the door behind him.
'Ade is pregnant and the father is....'
 Ajoke drums on the dresser beside her and Bala stretches both arms open and we both join him. Laughing at the expensive joke and Bala turns to Nnoye.
'Nnoye are you not happy for your friend?'
  Nnoye fakes a smile and looks at her phone and I whip out mine and take a selfie of us four.
The caption read, 'The Blessings of God starts as a tiny growing seed'
 Nnoye liked the picture and Ajoke and Mrs. Ojora senior loved the picture and the comments started.

 The picture on my phone was clear, a shot of us two on a reclining beach chair together.
I agree now, that I am an agbaya. Na die Nnoye dey... Or am I the one in trouble?

**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 61**

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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