Dusty fan blades rotate slowly, blowing hot air into the living room.
It’s a hot Saturday afternoon in Lagos, the sun is scorching outside, and there’s no power supply.
Chikanyima hates it. The clanking metal sound of neighbourhood generators, the fuel scarcity, the endless fuel queues, and palpitating power supply.
She eyes her boyfriend Osazuwa from one corner of the room, as he tosses on the sofa, sweating profusely.
They had moved in together after dating for one year, but they just fought because Osazuwa’s estate had not had light for one week, and it was affecting water supply in their compound.
“I need a break,” Chikanyima mumbles. “I want to leave this house, it’s too depressing.”
Osazuwa hugs her gently, making the same promises he makes when she gets upset.
“Kanyima, I promise you, we’re moving out soon, I’ll keep working till things pay off, please be patient with me.”
She understands, because they had drafted their plans together and were working hard towards them. But today, she is not in the mood for those promises.
The 2023 presidential elections are creeping in, and living in Nigeria’s starting to feel like hell.
Asides the constant fuel scarcity, food costs are tripling, inflation is through the roof, the US dollar is climbing to N800 per dollar, and having cash is now a luxury.
“How did naira notes even become scarce for Nigerians?” She wonders, as her mind drifts.
Like her, many Nigerians believed that the new Naira re-design policy, introduced by the central bank, was a ploy to reduce bribery and vote-buying in the coming elections.
She blindly applauded Emefiele for circulating newly-designed naira notes, and declaring the old naira notes as illegal tender.
Unfortunately, the new policy has now deprived Nigerians of basic things like food and transportation. Businesses are losing money daily, as the ‘common man’ struggles to survive.
While most banks are hoarding the new Naira notes and selling to elites, middle-class and poor Nigerians are forced to go hungry or sleep on the streets because they cannot get new notes from their banks or ATM, and market traders no longer accept ‘old Naira notes’.
She remembers the vile curses that were being hurled at Zenith Bank’s staff in a viral video she had watched.
The bank staffs had to climb a ladder mounted behind the bank, to escape the wrath of angry Nigerians who had breached the front gates, destroying windows and ATMs to get new notes from the bank.
Chikanyima heaves a deep sigh…”It’s a really dark time in this country, but I won’t let it kill my joy.”
Her mind drifts again as she remembers the ‘talk and do’ guys who had toasted her on IG in the past.
Their soft lives, spending dollars every night, rocking designers from head to toe, driving exotic cars, and vacationing every weekend.
Real, Lagos big boys, she felt.
Now, she ignores those types of messages when they come into her DMs.
After outgrowing her naive ‘jew-girl’ mindset, Chikanyima will later learn that not all ‘Lagos big boys’ have clean hands.
Before meeting Osazuwa, she had moved around with a couple.
One was a trust-fund baby, Kalu, who drove his daddy’s black Ferrari and introduced her to the underground arts scene in Lagos.
He came from old money, like most of his friends, whose family’s wealth could be traced back to Nigeria’s history. His father made his own money from politics.
While hanging out with him and his friends, she observed how rich kids associated with each other.
It didn’t matter where your money came from, as long as you were ‘clean’ on paper and had the right people in your corner. No one asked deep questions or said more than they needed to.
Of course, there was the usual gossip. But no one had the guts to say it to your face that your daddy did ‘419’ in his younger days, or swallowed drugs to get to where he is now.
Kanyima does not care though.
“Isn’t it better to cry in a Ferrari?” she giggles. “When you’re rich nobody cares about your secrets.” She concludes to herself.
She snaps back to reality, and reminds herself that Zuwa is the love of her life and they are building an empire together, one day at a time.
Yet, she still needs space for a few days.
Luckily for her, Tiwa, her childhood friend, calls her to invite her for a night out.
“Chi….how far? What are you doing tonight?” Tiwa asks.
Kanyima sighs, “Babe I dey o, just feeling a bit low, what’s happening tonight?”
Tiwa gasps, “ohh sorry darling, is everything okay?….It’s my sister’s birthday and we’re going to Element House. Do you want to come? You can sleep at mine after.”
Kanyima stares at Osazuwa as she contemplates her outing. They are not on great terms right now, because of their fight.
She responds to Tiwa. “Okay, I’ll come. Send me the link to get tickets….I’ll spend the night at yours after.”
“Yayy!! I’ll see you soon, okay?” Tiwa responds. The call clicks off.
Osazuwa stares at her as she gets off the phone.
“Going out tonight?” he asks.
“Yeah”….she pauses. “I’m going out with Tiwa, it’s her sister’s birthday. I’ll spend the night at hers to cool off.”
“Okay.” He replies in a cold manner.
***********************************************************************************************
8:00 pm, Saturday night.
Beirut Lounge, Victoria Island, Lagos.
Chikanyima arrives in a red-wine bandage dress, showing a little bit of cleavage. Her dress gently hugs her hips, and rests well above her knees, revealing her soft figure eight.
She walks into a brilliantly lit reception, with loud echoes of house music coming from the club upstairs as people troop in and out of the doors.
The venue feels exciting, there’s a certain buzz in the air, mixed with scents of perfume and alcohol. There are people queuing to get entry tags, while some girls stand outside looking for their friend who has just arrived, and three already drunk guys book a taxi to head to another club.
Kanyima’s brown Zara heels click the tiles, as she approaches the ticket desk, a gust of cool wind meets her face. She matts her glossy lips together, and fluffs her honey-blonde wig on her shoulders.
She has already texted Tiwa that she is around.
While getting her entry tag, Tiwa walks downstairs half-tipsy, wearing a gold sequined spaghetti strapped dress and black heels.
They quickly hug and compliment each other’s outfits with thunderous purrs and comments like “yasss queen..slayyy”
The bouncer checks Kanyima’s tag and grants them access to a private staircase that leads to the club upstairs. As they walk into the club, Kanyima is transported to an ‘Altè afro-house music scene.
Queer-looking Gen-z’s with tattoos, dreads and piercings fill up the room, screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs, as a white DJ plays his set on stage.
They walk towards the bar to meet the other girls, and a mix of red, blue and white lights blur Kanyima’s sight, as the club switches from total darkness to blinding lights and back to darkness within the flick of seconds.
Kanyima cannot see anyone’s face as she walks through the crowd.
Loud music blasts from the club speakers, and she yells in Tiwa’s ears that she needs a drink asap.
After greeting the other girls, Kanyima heads straight to the bar to order a hard drink.
“Four shots of whisky on the rocks, please. No mixer.” she tells the cute Lebanese bartender.
She’s a light-weight, and not much of a drinker, but tonight she plans on getting ‘fucked up,’ forgetting about nigeria’s stress and her relationship drama.
She walks back to where Tiwa and the other girls are, and asks Tiwa if she has weed.
“No o I don’t have…you didn’t bring?” Tiwa replies.
“Omo, I no fit carry igbo with police everywhere,” Kanyima responds, as she sips her drink, feeling the tingle of alcohol in her toes.
They both agree to scout for a dealer at the open rooftop area of the club.
Tiwa leaves her already drunk sister Lolade to dance with her friends Stephanie and Chelsea, while Mariam, another girl in the group, decides to follow them to the rooftop.
“ One of my friends from uni is here,” Mariam says, trying to befriend Kanyima, “he smokes weed too, so he might have some. I can ask him for you guys.”
They thank her and head to the rooftop to find a cabana to sit in.
The rooftop is wide with an aesthetic of yellow led string-lights hanging, and cabanas for guests to sit. Landmark beach is right behind the club, so you can see the ocean from the rooftop and enjoy the sea-breeze.
A distinct smell of marijuana and cigarettes linger in the air, as Gen-z and Millennial groups talk and socialise, and couples snuggle up in their cabanas, while music plays loudly from the club.
At least she and Tiwa will hear each other well, if they stay here to talk.
After Mariam speaks with her friend, she comes back with two fat blunts in her hands and offers it to them.
Kanyima thanks her, and Tiwa takes the blunt to re-roll them into smaller joints.
“Do you want molly?” Mariam offers as she crushes two pills into her sprite. “ I don’t smoke or drink, so I need this to enjoy myself tonight.”
“No i’m good” Kanyima responds, “I’m not judging you it’s fine.”
Tiwa also declines.
“Okay ladies, I’m coming, I’ll be right back.” Mariam says, as she dashes off to meet another set of friends from her uni.
Tiwa finishes re-rolling the joint and hands it over to Kanyima, with a side-eye, asking her to do the honour of lighting it up.
They both burst out laughing, and Kanyima requests that they move to a more quiet and low-key area of the rooftop.
She takes a sizable gulp of whisky and exhales, then lights up the joint. As she takes her first drag, she notices her giggles are getting lighter and everything is sounding more hilarious, meaning the alcohol is now kicking in.
They share the joint and talk like old girlfriends who haven’t seen each other in a long time.
Their conversation is filled with bawling laughter and banter, as they face the seaside and talk about how annoying their boyfriends are, and how much they still love them, how APC should not produce the next president, and their next career moves for the future.
Kanyima is suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Kanyi is that you?”
After hearing the familiar voice Chikanyima turns around in utter shock and disbelief.
“Ahn ahn Kalu! What are you doing here?
They both burst into hearty laughter.
Her trust fund baby is here.
“You’re never in the country,” she says “ last time I saw your post on FB, you were skiing in New Zealand”
Kalu smiles with an unlit cigar in his right hand.
“Yeah babe I just got back from France last night and my friends kind of dragged me here tonight”he replies with a coy smile on his face. “Well I’m happy I came out cuz I got to see you.”
“How did you even know it was me?” Kanyima laughs in disbelief.
“Ahn ahn, I can recognize that ass from a mile away,” Kalu says as he lights up his cigar and blows smoke in the air.
He smiles at her again in a boyish handsome way.
Kanyima is still in shock because she had not seen Kalu since their last fight over four years ago.
After going on a couple of dates, she had visited him in his luxury apartment in Lekki phase 1, close to her office.
They ordered food, drank white wine and made love for the first and only time.
He told her how much he loved her beautiful body and the gold beads on her waist, but she wanted more than just sex.
He couldn’t commit to her because he was still in his baby-boy, playboy era.
So he snorted two lines of cocaine on his bedside stool and told her “I’m sorry Kanyi, I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m just not in that space right now..I like you a lot, but before we make things official, let’s slow things down a little.”
She left his apartment that night heartbroken, vowing to never have meaningless sex with any man in Lagos again, till she was sure he was ‘the one’.
Maybe if she waited a little, they would’ve ended up together. But her ego was bruised, and the damage was done. She left and never looked back again.
Two years later, he posted a new girlfriend on his Facebook with the caption “My everything”, and Kanyima made peace with it, wished him well in the comments section and moved on.
“You look beautiful as always, Kanyi” he says as he takes another pull of his cigar. “Who’s your friend?”
She blushes. “Thank you….this is Tiwa my bestie, we go way back.”
He extends his hand for a handshake “nice to meet you Tiwa.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Tiwa says as she shakes his hand, immediately giving Kanyi a stern warning look.
She does not like the flirty vibes Kalu is giving her friend.
“It seems like you need to catch up…let me check on my sister, I’ll be right back” Tiwa says hurriedly, eager to leave the thick sexual tension building between her friend and this handsome dark-skinned man.
As she walks away, she turns to look at Kanyi one more time with warning eyes that seem to say ‘girl , don’t mess up your relationship for this guy.’ Kanyi winks at her voraciously like ‘madam mind your business.’
With Tiwa gone, Kanyi can now talk freely with Kalu.
She observes him from head to toe, he hasn’t changed much.
He’s wearing a white-gold Patek Phillipe watch, a plain black polo T-shirt and brown khaki shorts with black Versace slides.
Their eyes meet and she can’t help but run her fingers through his curly, soft, full beard. He allows her hands to roam freely on his beard, and checks her body out too, while grinning.
“Kalu, so you’re still smoking cigars ehn?” she teases him playfully.
“Yeah I guess” he shrugs.
“How is your girlfriend?” She asks, half-hoping the girl is not around. “Are you people not going to get married? You’re always peppering us on the gram.”
He laughs shyly and responds “She’s still in Paris, she’ll be back later this week.”
Their eyes lock again and he stares at her plump lips lustfully. She feels the need to kiss his lips but holds herself back.
There’s still sexual tension brewing between them because they never really pursued their feelings for each other in the past, and it was their first time seeing each other since that fateful night.
Out of curiosity, Kalu asks if she has a boyfriend.
“You’re so low-key Kanyi, I don’t even know anything about you since we last saw each other.” He adds.
“Yeahh, I do,” she responds, “but he’s not here with me tonight. I came alone.”
What were the odds of them being here tonight without their significant others? Was it fate? Or what? She thought to herself.
All of a sudden, she starts feeling very tipsy from the alcohol and weed she has smoked.
“I think I’m ready to go inside, I need to dance off this high unless I will fall down.” She tells Kalu.
She lets him hold her waist instinctively, as he guides her to the club, leaving his own friends behind.
“Do you want another drink?” He asks.
“Yes!” She says a little too quickly.
They head over to the bar and take more shots of tequila and lime, then playfully flirt with each other and talk more over the loud music, before heading to the dance floor, to sweat it out.
At this point, a female south-African DJ is now on stage playing her set. The club is even fuller than before and everyone is dancing energetically to eclectic afro-house music.
The sounds from the speakers tingle her ears, and she feels the warm colours of the disco lights on her face, each flash of light elevating her on the dance floor.
She spots Tiwa in another corner grinding slowly on another guy she just met and winks at her. They both laugh from a distance in girl code.
She now places her hands on Kalu’s shoulders and grinds him from the front, while his hands are on her backside.
He pulls her closer and kisses her neck. She moans softly, then turns around and slowly grinds him from the back.
She had always been a good dancer, but the tequila and whisky were loosening every knot in her body. She whines her waist slowly on him, dipping her waist low and picking it up slowly.
He tilts his head back in pleasure, then whispers in her ears as she comes up slowly “You’ve always known how to move your body, Kanyi.”
She smiles. Her seduction game has always been on point. Now she’s just allowing the alcohol to do its thing, and not over-thinking anything, including her relationship.
They move sensually on the dance floor with their palms clasped together on her belly, while she rolls her waist even deeper on his groin.
She feels him get bigger, and now Kalu cannot keep his hands off her.
He caresses her thighs, and plans soft, gentle kisses on her ears and neck. She enjoys the sensation and notices a little moisture, between her thighs.
So I still want this boy after all these years? She ponders and shakes her head in doubt.
“Can we go somewhere private?” Kalu asks, interrupting her thoughts. “I don’t want any of my babe’s friends to see us together like this.”
“Yes we can,” she replies softly.
She signals to Tiwa that she’s coming back, as they head downstairs to his car.
While walking to his car she notices a chubby, dark-skinned girl with a lemon green wig, wearing silver bum shorts, that reveal her bare buttocks and shiny, silver high-knee boots, which glow in the dark.
Her top is backless, so you can see the rolls of fat bouncing up and down as she struts to her car.
“Gen-Z can wear anything sha” she mutters to herself.
They get to his tinted, 2021 black Mercedes Benz Brabus, and she seats in the passenger seat.
Immediately they get in, they grab each other and French kiss passionately, in a slurpy drunk rotation, with their tongues flicking in and out of each their mouths, touching their body parts like hungry cats whose lives depend on it.
Kalu’s fingers gradually move up under her dress, desperate to feel between her legs, and she moans out softly, before pulling away.
“Wait! Kalu! Wait!.I can’t do this!” Kanyima stops him abruptly.
“Why did you run away from me, Kanyi?” He asks, looking deep into her eyes.
His eyes are red from arousal, and a huge lump now bulges from his shorts.
“You left me and ran away to Abuja, after that night, I never heard from you again.”
“Did you come back for me?” she pauses ….”you knew what you wanted Kalu, and you broke my heart …now we’re both seeing other people and it’s not fair to them if we cheat on…….”
Kalu cuts her off.
“Listen, I’ve really missed hanging out with you Kanyi, you’re a special girl to me, please come back to my place so we can hang out like old times, I promise I won’t bother you again after this, if you don’t want me to.”
She starts contemplating and thinking about it. She had missed Kalu too, more than she realized, but the thought of sleeping with another man besides Osazuwa freaked her out, she knows finding out would break him.
Kalu looks at her with pleading eyes and just as she’s about to give him an answer, she receives a call from Tiwa.
She picks up and hears Tiwa screaming into the phone.
“Chi! one of Mariam’s friends just left the club and got into a quad bike accident. His skull has split into two!..We need to take him to the hospital, he’s stuck at Ozumba Mbadiwe, I’m coming down so we can go!”
“Chi’m o! Okay I’m at the car park, I’ll meet you at your car!” Kanyima responds.
Seeing the look of panic on her face Kalu asks what the problem is. She tells him that their mutual friend has just gotten into an accident at Ozumba Mbadiwe and they have to help him get to the hospital.
“I’m sorry I have to go now” Chikanyima says as she pecks him on the cheek.
“So this is it….you’re running away from me again abi?” Kalu teases.
“Kalu, you have a serious girlfriend now. You think I didn’t see your proposal pictures last year?” She laughs.
He’s quiet.
“Don’t worry Kalu, I’ll always have a soft spot for you, but I can’t cheat on my man.” she says as she hugs him and gets down from his car.
Tiwa, her sister, and Mariam are already downstairs waiting for Kanyima.
She waves at Kalu and walks off into the night, thanking God that she did not give into temptation and cheat on Osazuwa.
Of course, he will never know that she dared to kiss another man.
“It’s because I was unhappy” a lie she tells herself as they drive out of the venue.