Flash Fridays: ‘Lunch Date’

I found this in my drafts folder dated October 2012. I’m not sure why I didn’t publish it. I am also aware that today is not Friday, but what the hey.

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Wole wiped his mouth with the serviette that Nneka provided. He belched loudly. “We need to talk,” he said. He coughed and drank from his cup, dabbing at the sweat beading his bare chest with another serviette. It left pieces in his chest like pink dandruff.

“I know. You’re breaking up with me,” Nneka said. She pushed her food around her plate.

“Ah-ahn, where is this coming from?” The toothpick holder Wole had been reaching for slipped from his grasp. He started rearranging the picks, tapping the ends to make them level. Nneka watched him for a moment.

“So, you’re not breaking up with me?”

“Why are you talking like this now? Are we quarrelling?” He coughed again. “Please pass me the water.”

“Are you sure? It’ll only make it worse.”

He coughed again and again, gesturing fiercely for the water bottle. Nneka poured him some. He drank deeply and cleared his throat. “Look, you’re not getting any younger. I’m just trying to do the right thing here. It would not be fair to keep wasting your time with me, if I am not ready…”

Nneka’s fork clattered to her plate. She laughed. “And of course you waited till you had eaten from me one last time before you told me this.” He shook his head. The coughing started again. “Why did you not tell me this before your hands touched my body?”

“Nneka, you are too quarrelsome. You are paranoid and neurotic – always imagining things…” He thumped his chest.

“I see. And this is why you married someone else last weekend? Tell me, were you trying to do the right thing as well when you forced me to kill six of the children in my womb for you over the years?”

“Nneka…” He wiped at the corner of his mouth. His eyes widened when it came away red. “Nneka!” He pushed his chair back, clutching the tablecloth. The crockery clattered to the ground. He reached for his mobile among the shards. Nneka stood up, scattering grains of rice that had fallen into her lap. She kicked the phone away.

“I told you never to lie to me. I told you the water would make it much worse. You never listen.” She squatted until she was by his ear. “You should have listened to me.”

Blame it on my chi.

Ndewo nu, Igbo ndi oma n’agu akara edemede m n’aka  ugbu a. Kedu ka unu mere? And good day to all you non-Igbo readers as well!

This post is about Flavour N’abania so if you’re tired of hearing me talk about him, biko kwuruga – just shift to one side, as we say in Nigeria.

Let’s have a moment of silence to fully appreciate God’s work, please.

Eh-he, where was I? Yes, so I understand as a Christian that whatever I ask for of my heavenly father will be given. Matthew 7:7 – ‘Seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you.’

In this case it translates as ‘Seek F(l)avour and ye shall find F(l)avour.’ Hallelujah? Amen!

WHY IS THIS NOT HAPPENING?

Is this because Christianity also makes provision for those times when you ask and do not receive – it is simply not in God’s plan? He knows what is best for you; you’re supposed to ‘Wait upon the Lord and he shall renew thine strength. (Isaiah 40:31). So this would mean  that meeting Flavour now or at any other time would be somehow bad for me.

 I don’t attend the so-called ‘New Generation’ churches but I find that a lot of them believe in speaking words into action – less waiting, more…commanding. I am comfortable with this approach with regards to my current Flavourless existence because it is similar to the Igbo belief system.

We Nwa afo Igbo believe in chi, your personal destiny, inseparable from your will. This is not a god to be bartered or traded or destroyed if they do not do your bidding.  This chi is both the physical manifestation of your will and the will itself.

So you see, I simply refuse to believe that it is not God’s plan for me to meet Flavour N’abania. I refuse. Mba. No. Nicht. Non. It is simply that my chi slumbers. For how else will you explain that ALL of my friends have met, touched, danced with or interviewed the Flavoursome One, eh?

Hear one of them : “Nwoke mara mma o. Skin bu so so mma eh!” (“He is so fiiiiiiiine and his skin is so lovely!”)

Needless to say, we have since parted ways.

I promised no more Flavour for a while on this blog, and I kept my promise both to myself and to you. I boycotted his music, I did not speak his name or allow anyone else to do so. Heck I even stopped watching  Alien vs Predator which I love because Predator’s  hairstyle reminds me of Flavour’s.

Now I have gone back to him in force, starting today. Flavour if you are reading this, I AM COMING FOR YOU. You cannot escape.

It is destiny.

If you have Spotify, and you speak Igbo listen to the skit below. It is supposed to be what happens when a group of Igbo boys hang out in a beer garden with the purpose of picking up chicks. The conversation is HILARIOUS. I would love to translate it but I have a feeling that it will make the whole thing dry and humourless.

Flavour – Skit By Waga G, Loye & Falvour