FUNMI - Foul Mood; Man Needed!

I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door to my flat, closing the door to the sounds of the street. Thank God, I thought, breathing a sigh of relief. My flat mate is not yet back from work. I touched my temples as I walked to the fridge to pour myself some fresh milk. I don’t know who told me milk helps with headaches but it’s my fetish. I do it all the time when I have a headache and I’m at home. I drink cold milk. Ebuka thought the habit was funny. I remember he would say ‘Come on sweetie, do you actually think that will kill the headache?’ He would then pull me close, touch his lips to my temple and tell me he was kissing the headache away.

I poured a glass and sipped slowly. God, Ebuka was the best man ever! Why did I have to lose the best man I’d ever met? Come to think of it, he’s the only relationship I’ve had that counts. I tried to think of something else. I’ve been down that road before; been there, done that, never going to try it again… it doesn’t work. ‘He’s gone for good’. I tell myself loudly as I walk out of the kitchen. I turn on the TV and flick through the channels absent-mindedly, and then I turn it off. TV has nothing interesting to offer me.

Something is really bothering me today. My friends are wonderful but I think being the mother hen of the group is starting to wear me out. Don’t get me wrong, I love being the big sister figure in their lives but sometimes it’s tasking. I need the girls, but I also need a man. I want a man. I feel like falling apart and having someone else there to pick the pieces of me up. I want a man to call my own; I want a man to curl up to in the night. Dear Jesus, that seems to be my mantra this day. I could chant this new found mantra all day, maybe that way a man would just walk to my doorsteps. What am I thinking? It definitely doesn’t help that I’m not getting any younger. I’m older than all my friends, well not too much but I’m twenty seven years...Two and seven, I so need a man! I smiled at myself even in my depressed state.

The only thing that seems to be going well in my life right now is my job which I really love. A smile lights my face as I remember the angels in my class. I love teaching and I love kids, somehow I’ve been able to turn both into a job I love so much. Every time a kid in my class understands something or remembers a rhyme I taught them, the joy I feel is inexplicable. My job gives me a sense of fulfilment. Many people don’t understand why I chose this path but for me, my job defines me, it’s the essence of who I am. If I’m not able to express myself on the job or put my all into it, then it’s not worth it. Being a preschool teacher is my calling and I love it. I think about the children in my class and the way each of their faces lit up when we sang the ‘friendship song’ I taught them today (sometimes I make these songs up as I teach them) and my heart fills with pride. Then the thoughts return: when will I have my own children? When will I be able to transfer this love I feel for my students to my own offspring? How can I even dream of having children when I don’t have a man?

All my friends seem to be caught up in one man drama or the other and I wish I could solve all their problems, maybe I’ll have more peace then. Dolapo went and kissed her choir leader and is acting like all is right with the world although the guy appeared at the concert with another lady on his arms. I think she’s in denial. Titi has her own drama going on with the ‘married man’. Temmy can’t seem to stick to a man, always jumping from one to the other. I roll my eyeballs as I think about it. I wonder what boredom means in her dictionary. 

My flatmate comes in as I’m making myself some dinner. She’s nice, a quiet Polish girl with good manners so we get along fairly well. She’s a bit untidy but thankfully she’s out of my way most of the time because she practically lives with her boyfriend. She peeped into the kitchen and said hi before going to her room. I listen as she opens and shuts her bedroom door and hear her footsteps in the room above.

My mind goes back to my girls. Maureen, what’s that one even up to, with her eccentric ways? She’s a good designer; she just needs to get her show on the road. I have to speak to her about it the next opportunity I get. Sigh... there I go again, trying to be the guardian angel over everyone. Who gave me this role? Why can’t I just play weak, feeble and needing help at times? Then I drift to Lola. She has ‘this thing’ going on with Wole. The thought of Wole makes my heart skip a beat. The guy is oh, soooo attractive. Gosh, I hate to admit to myself but he’s gorgeous and I think I loved (or is it liked) him at first sight. I haven’t felt like this about any man since Ebuka, a man that makes my body tingle and makes me want to double check my face in a mirror. If this is lust, father Lord, I rebuke it but it feels soooo good. Life is just not fair. I saw him first at Titi’s party; he was even smiling at me when Lola came in. I can’t make conversation as fast and that was it, she took him away.

I made the sign of the cross; I don’t even know how to do it properly. Does the cross go from the left to the right or right to left? I shouldn’t think such thoughts about Lola, she deserves to be happy. In her defence, she didn’t even know I was eyeing him. I think somewhere inside me, Ebuka is still the love of my life but this Wole, this Wole, he’s doing me strong thing o. Dear Lord, I bind lust once again. I just need a man of my own. A man with the qualities of both Ebuka and Wole, now that man will be a master of master pieces!

Last time at Maureen’s house, we all seemed to be trying to make up. Lola and Titi were still at each other though. I would have thought I needed some ‘girl time’ but surprisingly I just want to sit here alone. Or wait, perhaps I need some Mummy time! My mum is my friend. She’s weathered the storms of life but she’s still standing. Her strength amazes me. When my dad lost his job, I was in secondary school. My mum shouldered the responsibilities without complaining. When he took to drinking, she prayed night and day, spoke to him and begged. I was still a teenager when he died, he just slumped and that was it. My mum grieved and then moved on. My sisters and I are her life. She’s a strong woman and I admire her. 

I picked up my phone and dialled my mum’s number. She's one of those people who leave their phones to ring for ages before picking up.

“Hello sweetie.” I hear the smile in her voice as she picks up my call. Sweetie is what my mum calls me and all her friends have gotten into the habit of calling me the same.

“Mummy, how're you today?”

“Funmi, what's this tiredness I hear in your voice?”

She only calls me Funmi when the occasion calls for seriousness.

“Mummy, everything is just falling apart and I'm not happy.”

“What's falling apart? Are your friends okay? What about your job?”

“All those are okay. I’m just tired mummy”

I hear as she heaves a sigh of relief.

“Sweetie, what are you tired of or should I ask from?”

“Everything.”
“Kemi, please plug the water in the kettle for eba.” I hear my mum say to my little cousin who lives with her. She has this habit of talking to others while on the phone.

“Ok, tell me all about it.”

I told my mum about my friends, my crush on Wole and my thoughts about Ebuka.

“Funmi, it's a simple thing. First, you go on like the weight of the whole world is on your shoulders. Your friends can live without you. You'd be shocked but it's the truth. You don't hold the world.”

I smile and roll my eyeballs.

“And don't roll your eyeballs at me.”

I burst out laughing.

“You know me too well Mama Funmi.”

“I'm serious, you need to take a chill pill or how do you young people say it?”

“Ok ma and my man issues?”

“You don't have man issues sweetie, it's very simple, take your mind out of the gutter where your friend's man is concerned, he belongs to her...”

She paused.

“I know you won't want to hear this, but Ebuka called me last week, he's afraid of getting in touch with you. I think you should call him.”

“Oh God mummy; you and Ebuka!”

“I'm not saying any more. As your mum, I command you to get out of that blue mood, slot an Ayefele CD into your sound system and dance away the foul mood.”

I burst into laughter again, my mum has that effect on me and she thinks dancing to an Ayefele CD is the solution to all of life's problems.

“Thanks mummy,” I reply with a smile in my voice. “I'm going to slot that CD in now because I know you won't leave until you hear the music.”

She laughed and I got up to play the CD.

“You know your mother, now you can drop.”

“Thanks mummy.”

“You're welcome sweetie, no more blues ok?”

“I promise.”

We said our goodbyes and I disconnected the call.

My phone flashed a text message that came in while I was talking to mum. I opened it and it was from Ebuka! My heart skipped a beat...

(c) Writefreak