I was in a mini-bus going to Cele from Yaba and was seated at the front row. Because of my special positioning, I became the unofficial conductor transferring monies and change between the other passengers and the driver.
One lady, obviously a college student from the way she looked, addressed me from the back seat: “please, tell the driver to give me my change.”
I remember wondering who the fuck she thought she was to send me on a wild goose chase with a Lagos driver, was she new to this town? I simply told her, with a cold face, not to bother me. And that was it.
About a year later, we’d meet again at an event in faraway Port-Harcourt. I’d forgotten the incident, but she hadn’t. I’d later find out she’d marked my face, swearing to confront me if she ever saw me again at the bus-stop. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the bus-stop, it was my guy’s wedding-eve party and we were on different sides of the couple train.
I felt bad when she re-introduced herself (as Anita) and of me of how much of an asshole I was that day. I couldn’t wait for the long weekend to be over so we could stop bumping into each other at weird spots, but the universe had other plans. The one lady I got attracted to enough to hook up with at the party turned out to be her best friend – Titi.
Titi and I continued to see each other even after moving back to Lagos. I’d regularly inquire from Titi about Anita’s wellbeing and she, too, continued to push for us to reconcile. Well, we both finally agreed to a reconciliation dinner for just the two of us, as arranged by Titi. That night ended with us sweating and wrapped in each other’s arms.
About two weeks later, we’d meet up again at the same place, this time, without Titi’s knowledge. It quickly became a weekly thing, then almost daily… until Titi found out. She wasn’t pissed. She was calm when she called things off saying, she just didn’t want to have to choose between me and her best friend.
A few months later, Anita and I would walk down the aisle, with Titi by her side. And soon after that, our life together became greeted with her absence.
Five years later, neither of us has spoken to Titi, not once.
This is the story of how I met my wife.
Written by Talius Dike.