Diary Of an Ibadan Girl: Entry 4
Hola! reader :),
Before you continue,
If you didn’t read my last entry, kindly click here.
Throwback to One day earlier:
“Ah ah, shey ko si’nle ni?” “Is she not home?”
One must be wandering who it was that shouted my name this way. The same thought ran through my mind as I heard my name over and over. A face formed in my mind’s eye. But I still couldn’t be sure who it was. I was seated in my father’s living room when this name calling thing started.
“Ta l’ode yen?” “Who is that fool?” I shouted back while I tried to catch a glimpse of whoever it was by looking out through the window. I pulled down the window lever a little bit.
“Taska ni. Shi’lekun joor. Morenike Alagolo oshi.” “It’s Taska. Open the door. Morenike, useless tin-woman.”, the person said.
First of all, let me make it known that I have three best friends. Two of these people attended the same University as me. We had met at the University. Their names are Omowonuola Olatokunbo Jones and Kofoworola Motoni Adelaja. The remaining other is a childhood friend. Has been from the days of kindergarten at Ore-ofe nursery and primary school right up till this day.
I could say that I breathe in the same air as Sekinat Omobolanle Lawal.
Sekky as I fondly called her would be the equivalence of my living diary, if there existed anything like that. She has and knows all the details in my life. Alabaro mi atata.
Second of all, you cannot successfully boast of being a bonafide Ibadan girl if you can’t abuse back when they abuse you. One must be wondering why and how we converse with some people this way. We’re apologetic but it’s innate. Legends have said that when they first give birth to a child in Ibadan, the first water they give you to drink is ‘back to sender’ water. As per: dapada, ma je ko tutu. So it’s always as e dey hot.
Play-back to reality.
By then, a face had already begun to take formation in my mind’s eye even before I saw the person. I had a feeling I knew who it was. For only one person called me “Morenike Alagolo” “Morenike, the tin woman“.
(Morenike Alagolo was a character from one of those 90s’ movies that some people just never got over. People like my best friend, Sekky.)
“But o ni laakaye sha“. “But you don’t have sense though“. I said as I stood up to open up the metal door that guarded my father’s medium-sized bungalow.
My father’s bungalow is one of the smallest in our area. My father likes to pride himself into thinking that he had indeed made the right choice when he had decided to relocate his family away from the hustle and bustle of Owode onirin to the cool ambience of Akobo ojurin, Ibadan.
Even though, I can remember from childhood that the latter house was much bigger and provided more space to thrive. Apparently, my father thought that relocating his family would provide me and my sibling ample chance to grow in a supposed posh part of town.
I’m just here like, yinmu. (yinmu is a facial expression which involves the upward movement of your nose in a way that suggests that you do not agree with something.)
There’s absolutely not much difference between the residents of Owode onirin and Akobo ojurin jare. (jare means per se.)
By the time Sekky walked through the door and we exchanged the regular pleasantries in our best-friend parlance, I could already make out the content of the gist from my best friend’s face. It had to be boy-related. It just had to be. We’ve not been besties for 19 years for jokes. I knew my bestfriend like I knew my heart. Ditto.
Only two things made Sekky hyperventilate asides from her education: Gist and Men. Sekky is the most dedicated student you’d ever meet. Always eager to learn this and that and usually, it pays off. Because Sekky knows everything. When I say everything, I mean if you’re looking for an information in any rare/weird topic, Sekky has the ‘know’. You just needed to know her and be her friend. The world is in your palm right after that.
I looked into my best friend’s eyes as she made her way into our house. I saw that twinkle that’s always present in her eyes when she has mad gist.
I gave her a wide toothed smile and braced myself for the long afternoon ahead.
Read my gist with Sekky next.
2 thoughts on “Diary Of an Ibadan Girl: Entry 4”
Well done Ma…
You should definitely write a book someday out of these series!
It’s quite interesting to read I must say!