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The Run Away Girl

By Abdulqudus Ibrahim.

Again! Yet again! It is another Friday afternoon, some moments after Juma’at Service. The day has been so delightful, filled with anticipation of selecting a stunning new dress to wear so as to look gorgeous, especially since it’s a fabulous Friday! I need to look awesomely neat and smell nice. Perhaps, because of the love of the day, or to attract those beautiful chicks. That’s by the way anyway…

Immediately after the Juma’at service, greeting people and exchanging pleasantries have always been the norm. While majestically walking straight home thinking of how I will make a concoction of garri for the day lunch, someone gently taps me on the back of my neck.  Pa! Who is it? Then I discover it’s Fath. That’s what he’s known for.  He’s my best friend and the loyal being I’ve ever come across; he is light in complexion, tall, elegant, unarguably, a favourite choice of many girls, and he can be naughty like that too.

He makes friends easily; probably that’s why he has many babes at hand.  In many cases, we exchange girls’ contacts when the need be.

“Share me that babe you dey chat now, abi you wan dey keep am ni?” I say to him.

He grins and responds, “You know I owe you much, let me share you this girl. Her name is Tiwa. We are both in the same department at school, but she can be dramatic sometimes.”

“No problem now, no be girl she be?” I state and quickly open the call dialler icon on my phone’s home screen and dial the number as he states the digits. A thought arises in my mind, prompting me to quickly end the call.

“We shall meet on WhatsApp,” I say.

I immediately text her “hello.”

Soon, we start chatting; she sounds nice, and obviously the chat interests her as well. As quick as it can be, we agree to meet at her school on a Monday morning.

The day comes fast like I can’t even imagine. I dress up in a white T-shirt, a navy blue trouser, and a pair of Italian made shoe I buy from brother Shigo at Ilorin College. I stop a motorcycle, and as soon as he stops, I got on, and we zoom off.

Just some minutes ride, we arrive at my destination. Before I intend to place a call to inform her of my arrival, I stop by a newspaper stand at the school gate to update myself on sport news, especially football for the day. My first glance at a Daily Sports Update reveals Barça, mercilessly humiliated by Bayern Munich. The German team wins 8-2 against the La Liga club. What a match! I smile as my phone rings. Tiwa is the caller. I pick up the call with excitement. How she knows I’m here already? I don’t know.

“Are you at the school gate now?” She asks.

I think probably she may have seen me. “Oh yes! I just alighted…”

“Please walk straight to the school library and call me when you reach there,” she responds.

A minute later, I am at the front of the library already. My heart gives a running sound as I set my eyes on her. I seem to be nervous a little, but I quickly remember how confident I can be in moments like these. Without uttering a word, she smiles.

“Hello,” I break the silence. “Can we walk to a place where we can find a seat,” I request.

With a short walk, we find a seat under a mango tree where the wind is blowing. The chill is awesome, I do love it. “You look beautiful,” I say.

“You look good too,” she replies.

She’s dressed in a black jumpy gown, which flaunts her thick frame curvy waist. Her boobs are tempting. Truth be told, I find it difficult to get my eyes off them; they are damn spectacular. I’m so happy, because I’ve been waiting for this moment with her. 

“We have to know much about each other abi…” She hurriedly states.

Forty minutes into our conversation, she listens with great attention as I speak. While I talk, she offers a few smiles. She keeps folding and refolding her hands.

Time for me to leave… I can’t help at that moment, but to compliment her boobs. I remark, “What a cake!”

She chuckles and says, “I’ve been suspecting you sha. Thank you, anyway.”

She requests that she sees me off but I decline.

“You need to be in class now,” I say, like I do care.

A week later, I wake up with a hunger I am determined to fight that morning. As I begin preparing my usual watery beans, my phone rings unexpectedly, interrupting my routine. It’s Tiwa. With some good thoughts, I pick up… 

“Hey, Hello! Are you at home?” She questions.

“Sure, I am,” I reply and smile.

“I’m kind of bored at school. I will love to come to your place to spend some moments with you,” she requests.

“Yes. Yes…you are surely welcome,” I reply and that ends the call.

As quick as it may be, I text my address to her. While still wondering if it’s a prank call or she really means it, she’s right here at my door step. So quick! I happily welcome her in, and still notice how her boobs keep navigating into my eyes balls.

She sits comfortably on my white fabrics covered bed. Chai! What a damsel she is, I think.

“Let me get something outside, I will be back soon.”

I notice her phone rings. She picks up. It may be some of her friends in school, just a thought though.

It takes me five minutes before I return. She’s already standing, waiting for me to return.

“Sorry I have to go now. My friend just called now informing me that Dr Adewole, one of my lecturers, has fixed a lecture which I can’t afford to miss, despite his less-than-ideal teaching style,” Tiwa says.

“It’s not a problem. I will be expecting you back after the class anyway.”

“Sure, I will,” she replies.

She leaves with, “goodbye, see you in the afternoon.” And till this moment, I’m still wondering when her afternoon will come, maybe today abi…..

—Photo by Fotorech via Pixabay


  • Abdulqudus Ibrahim

    Abdulqudus Ibrahim is a content writer, social advocate, and activist. He graduated from the University of Ilorin. He is the author of the book “The Blame Game”. He loves reading and travelling.

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