First of all, guys, I am very sorry for the long break. I have been in the I cannot come and kill myself phase of life. You know that after final exam feeling, where you are like, I will never read even a billboard again. That’s where I have been since I finished my book, The Cover.
Let me just tell you, guys, I haven’t just been taking a break from writing, I have also been out there embarrassing myself. But all of you, because we are one happy family, you cannot deny me. Just deny me and see.
So one beautiful Wednesday, I went to take the picture I used for the cover of my book. (Author things, hehe. Nekwa nu Adanna o.) I took my time to make up, wore a beautiful mustard yellow dress. I looked sharp. After the pictures, I decided to go to the mall to show off. How can all that slay go to waste? The best place to go was the mall, at least hundreds of people would see me.
As soon as I came down from the car, I could feel eyes on me. I added salt and pepper to my step. I kept hearing “You look good.” My head was expanding. I thought I was going to start floating like a hot air balloon. I stopped a couple of times to say hi to the familiar faces, and then some network marketing people came to talk to me about joining their group. I spent about five minutes with them because they complimented me.
I went into the shop, bought something I didn’t need (slay queen life dikwa expensive, imagine wasting all that money just for people to see your outfit). At least a makeup artist asked me who my makeup artist was, because my face was beaten to perfection. All the compliments made the unnecessary spending worth it.
After I felt I had achieved my aim, I catwalked back to my car with my now plus-sized head. I unlocked the car and got in. Tried to start it, e no gree. Tried again, nothing. I tried to move the seat, it didn’t budge. At this point, I knew my car was practically dead. Since I started driving that car, I had never experienced anything like that. It had never stopped me on the road, nothing. The only times we had gone to a mechanic were to change the oil and normal car maintenance. Being a slay queen with a difference, I opened my bonnet, at least to form one or two things. As I opened it, my eyes just went ‘fiam’ to an opening that looked like where the battery was supposed to be, but was now empty. They had stolen my battery. I started panicking, calling my mum to send the mechanic’s number. I had never had any personal need for him because my baby was always in good shape. She wasn’t answering. I called her five good times, no answer. At this point, I was seething. I called my aunt and she sent the number to me, so I called him and told him they had stolen my battery.
As I waited for him, I updated my WhatsApp status with: “Someone just stole my battery in broad daylight at Polo Park Mall. This one pain me.”
As if that wasn’t enough, I made a video saying I was going to curse somebody’s child today. That the person will di…(thank God WhatsApp cut me off before I said the die). Messages were pouring in. Condolence messages, stupid ones. I just started crying. I had to boss up for my makeup, but it was of no use because sun don already mama me. I was literally melting. I started scanning everywhere looking for the thief. Looking at people eyeball to eyeball like they’d stolen from me. Everyone was a suspect. Chaiiii! I even started suspecting the network marketer girl and her friend. Even the makeup artist, like maybe they were a battery stealing syndicate who just distract people so their other gang members can steal the person’s car battery. How foolish was I, biko nu?
After about twenty minutes, the mechanic arrived with my sister’s car battery. He opened the bonnet and went to the battery compartment to put it, telling me the person who stole from me must have been monitoring me. I was still there concurring, even pointing at the potential thieves while replying my condolence messages. Next thing I heard was, “Show me the place they took the battery from.” I confidently pointed at the place. Oga started laughing.
He opened the battery compartment. My battery was sitting pretty! I actually didn’t know where the battery of the car I had been driving for almost two years was. You are free to change my name to olodo rabata, but if I catch you ehhhh. He touched it and my car started. If not that I am team melanin popping, the embarrassment would have manufactured another colour for me. Don’t bleach guys, melanin can help you hide embarrassment.
The highlight of my day was when my mum was telling my auntie about the battery because she finally picked. She was so serious describing the incident, as if she was there. I let her finish before telling her nobody stole from me. Another round of embarrassment, because everybody started laughing at me.
This thing happened in May, and I am still accepting condolence messages. How on earth do I own up to this kind of falling hand situation? So, guys, I am finally owning up. If any lady wearing a mustard yellow dress with long lashes like brush looked at you somehow sometime in May at Polo Park Mall, that person is me. I am sorry, but you looked like a battery thief.
I recently just realized my car had an alarm system for very high temperatures, because I had been driving it without water, firing engine everywhere without checking the radiator. I am a disgrace, I know. Lol.
Meanwhile, my book is out now, and the most beautiful thing is that many people who have read it know me from BellaNaija. I owe this platform a lot. You can send me a message on Instagram or Twitter to find out how to order the paperback. The e-book is available on OkadaBooks.