Ifenkili Should I, should I not? The fried rice I ordered tasted like cost accounting, but I savored it with joy and gladness because finally, it was happening—I was on a date in one of the costliest restaurants in Port Harcourt, with a very handsome man. Even though his multi-colored jacket reminded me of Egusi soup, it fit him perfectly, and I adored his shoes, his wristwatch, and the way he smiled and laughed in New Time Roman. A week later, he insisted on gifting me a new iPhone and took my phone number. However, he ghosted me afterward—no calls, no messages, not even to ask if the phone was working perfectly, the kind of excuses men give just to hear the voice of the woman they're attracted to. Mhm-mhm. Nothing. I had his number too, but pride and some shame prevented me from dialing it. "If the mountain cannot come to Mohamed, let Uncle Moha go to the mountain nau," Aleruchi suggested when I confided in him about the situation. "D
𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰-𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰-𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬 The next time someone would suggest that I become a chief bridesmaid for anyone ehn, 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑎 𝑐𝒉𝑖, the beating I would give that person...I would flatten that person to the ground and sit on his or her chest as my grandmother did to her 𝑛𝑤𝑢𝑛𝑦𝑒𝑑𝑖 last Christmas. Death would be too good for that person. Tell me why I just lost my newly acquired iPhone 13 Pro Max to a man I thought was one of the groom’s men but later realized he wasn’t. The dude happened to wear the same blue senator suit as the other guys, got himself busy lifting things and running errands like every other groom’s man while his eyes and mind ran to and fro like the biblical devil who presented himself in a meeting meant for just the sons of God, a meeting he wasn’t invited. The craziest thing was I couldn’t figure out if it was while I was running around like a headless chicken, trying to please the annoying br