The Run Away Girl –Tiwa

 

Again! Yet again! It is another lonesome Friday afternoon, some moments after Juma’at Service. The day has been so cool from the thought of having to wear a new dress and to look gorgeous, since it’s Friday. We need to look awesomely beautiful and smell nice, perhaps because of the love of the day (Juma’at) or to attract those beautiful chicks. That’s by the way anyways…

Immediately after the Juma’at service, greeting people and exchanging pleasantries have always be the norm. While majestically walking straight home thinking of how I will make a concoction of garri for the day lunch, a sound echoes on my back neck. Pa! Who is it? Then I discover it’s Fath. That’s what he’s known for. He’s my best friend and the loyal being I’ve ever come across, light in complexion, tall, elegant, unarguable many girls’ spec and he can be naughty like that too.

He makes friends easily probably that’s why he has many babes at hand. In many cases, we share girls contact when the need be.

“Share me that babe you dey chat now, abi you wan dey keep am ni?”

He grins and says: “You know I owe you much, let me share you this girl, her name is Tiwa. We are both in the same department at school, but she can be dramatic sometimes.”

“No problem now, no be girl she be,” I say and quickly open the call dailer icon on my phone home screen and dial the number as he says out the digits. A thought pops up in my mind, which then I end the call with no delay.

Read Also >>  Mad Boy, OCHE - By Adewumi Samuel

“We shall meet on WhatsApp,” I say.

With immediacy, I text her “Hello.” As the chat keeps rolling from the contents in our chat, she sounds nice, and obviously the chat interests her as well. As quick as it can be, we agree to meet at her school on a Monday morning.

The day comes fast like I can’t even imagine. I dress up in a white T-shirt, a navy blue trouser and a pair of Italian made shoe I buy from brother Shigo at Ilorin college. I stop a bike man, he stops and we zoom off.

Just some minutes ride, we arrive at our destination. Before I intend to place a call to her informing her of my arrival, I branch at a newspaper joint at the school gate to update myself on sport updates, especially football for the day. My first glance at a Daily Sports Update see Barça mercilessly humiliated by the Germany giant Bayern Munich. A 2-8 win against the Laliga giant. What a match! I smile as my phone rings, Tiwa is the caller. I pick up the call with excitement. How she knows I’m here already? I don’t know.

“Are you at the school gate now?” She asks.

I think probably she may have seen me. “Oh yes! I just dropped from bike.”

“Please walk straight to the school library and call me when you reach there,” she responds.

A minute later, I am at the front of the library already. My heart gives a running sound as I set my eyes on her. I seem to be nervous a little, but I quickly remember how confident I used to be at times like this. Without uttering a word, she smiles.

Read Also >>  The Eater Of Coins

“Hello,” I break the silence. “Can we walk to a place where we can find a seat,” I request.

With a little walk, we find a seat under a wind blowing mango tree. The chill is awesome, I do love it. “You look beautiful,” I say.

“You look good too”, she replies.

She is dressed in a black jumpy gown, which flaunts her thick frame curvy waist. Her boobs are tempting, bake quarter naked, chocolate in complexion. Truth be told, I couldn’t get my eyes off her boobs, they are damn spectacular. I’m so happy, I’ve been waiting for this moment with her.

“We have to know much about each other abi…” She hurriedly inclines.

Forty minutes down the conversation line, she listens so attentively as I talk. While I talk, she do give some smiles, folds and refolds her hands. Time for me to leave…. I can’t help at that moment, but to compliment her boobs. I remark: “What a cake!”

She chuckles and says: “I’ve been suspecting you sha, thank you anyway. She requests that she sees me off but I decline…. “You need to be in class now,” like I do care.

A week after, there’s this hunger I want to fight that morning, busy preparing to cook my watery beans as usual as I hear my phone rings unexpectedly. It’s Tiwa. With some good thoughts, I pick up…

“Hey, Hello! Are you at home?” She questions.

“Sure I am,” I reply and smile along.

“I’m kind of bored at school, I will love to come to your place to spend some moments with you,” she requests.

“Yes, Yes…you are surely welcome,” I reply and that ends the call.

Read Also >>  The Eater Of Coins

As quick as it may be, I text my address to her. While still wondering if it’s a prank call or she really means it, she’s right here at my door step. So quick! I happily welcome her in, but still notice how her boobs keep navigating into my eyes balls.

She sits comfortably on my white fabrics covered bed. Chai! What a damsel she is, I think.

“Let me get something outside, I will be back soon.”

I notice her phone rings. She picks up, it may be some of her friends in school, just a thought though.

It takes me five minutes before I return. She’s already standing waiting for me to return.

“Sorry I have to go now. My friend just called me now informing me that Dr Adewole, one of my lecturers, has fixed a lecture which I can’t afford to miss, because of the kind of a horrible lecturer he is,” Tiwa says.

“It’s no problem, I will be expecting you back after the class anyway.”

“Sure, I will,” she replies.

She leaves with a “goodbye, see you in the afternoon.” And till this moment, I’m still wondering when her afternoon will come: maybe today abi…..

_______________________________________

Abdulqudus Ibrahim

IBRAHIM, Abdulqudus Olansile is a graduate of Social Work from University of Ilorin. He is a content writer, poet, graphic designer, social advocate and an activist. He loves reading and travelling. You can reach him on Twitter @ Ibrahim042298 or via Facebook :Ibrahim Abdulqudus

You may also like...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.