The Corporate Diary of Eniola Fayola

Friday, November 13, 2015

I walked quickly along the sidewalk. Well, as quickly as I could in the pair of red heels I had specifically purchased for the occasion that night. I cast a wary glance at the slouched, hooded figure of a man who stood a little way off; my heart pounded against my rib cage with fear. When I caught up to him, I saw he had a questioning look on his face, like I was lost or crazy.

But how could I blame him?

After all, I was the one walking home at midnight, dressed in an elaborate evening gown stumbling down the road in ridiculously high heels. It was the third time a person had given me that same look like I had a neon sign flashing over my head that attracted attention. The mascara stains from my tears that evening also didn’t help the situation.

I sighed in relief when I saw the familiar building ahead of me. I was so close to home where I could finally get some sleep and forget all about the horrid night I had. It was a long walk home, and my feet ached mercilessly. I got a couple offers for a ride home, but there was no way I would to take my chance with these creeps. One could never be too careful these days. Of course, I rejected the first guy who had stopped and asked me if I was available for the night and for how much. I just stood there, appalled.

Did I look like a prostitute?

After I gave him a very detailed piece of my mind, he drove away so fast his tires left skid marks on the road. I rejected the second offer because it was the very reason for my current state of misery. I stiffened when I heard the familiar engine and tried to walk faster, only to slow down again when my ankle twisted on a loose pebble. The vehicle slowed down to a halt beside me.

"Eni, come on, It's late. Let me at least drop you off at home," Akin said as he leaned out the window of his Prado Jeep.

I remembered that I once felt so happy when I rode in it, me in the passenger seat with him at the steering wheel. At the time, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world.

I glanced at him once before I hissed loud enough for him to hear. He didn't even have the decency to leave the other woman behind. There she was, beside him in the passenger seat, watching the whole scenario play out. It was obvious she found it entertaining.

I shook my head. So, I had been reduced to free entertainment for her.

"Akin, do us both a favor and leave me alone." I snapped my gaze forward. I planned to simply ignore him, yet I could not even succeed at such a simple task.

"What would your parents say?" He sounded tired.

I glanced at him and scoffed in disbelief. He had the nerve to bring my family into this. Did he think of what they would say before he embarrassed me and brought that woman into the picture?

"My parents would have a few choice words to say to you. Lots of colorful insults and curses might also be involved when they find out you were just cheating all along.”

"Please, Eni. Just let me drop you at home and we will sort this whole thing out tomorrow. What do you say?"

"I say," I leaned towards the car window, "stay the hell away from me."

I straightened up and continued the walk towards my house, satisfied that I had the last word. I didn't even turn to look when the Prado picked up speed and zoomed past me. Its red taillights glowed visibly in the dark.

I sighed in relief as I dug out my keys from my clutch bag and unlocked the gate that led to the compound. My house was more of a guest house or boys’ quarters really. I made sure I locked it behind me because security was very important, especially at night, although my actions earlier didn't exactly preach it. Once I stepped in through the door, I tossed my shoes into a corner. They weren't so loved right now. I rubbed my feet as I walked and stretched my toes to help ease the pain. The thought of a warm, refreshing shower before bed helped calm me down.

I whispered a quick prayer to God for delivering me from shady-looking street urchins before I reached behind me for the zipper of my gown to undress. The zipper was halfway down my back when I noticed the figure on my sofa and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The figure rolled off the sofa and fell on the floor with a loud thud.

When I recognized her, I instantly released the breath I held and sank unto the nearest surface while she got to her feet.

"Why would you scare me like that?" my sister, Laide, groaned. Her eyes held an accusing look.

"What do you mean?" I retorted. "I'm the one who came home to find someone sleeping in my house, on my sofa. What are you doing here, Laide?"

I crossed my arms and waited expectantly for her response.

Laide Temidayo Fayola was my 16-year-old younger sister. She was in SS2 and was usually quiet but with a good sense of humor when she wasn't nose-deep in a book or off in her little world of science.

"Well, surprise!" she said with weak enthusiasm.

I just looked at her and let my eyes do the talking.

"At least I used the spare key you gave me this time." She waved it in the air.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead.

Her previous visits were made possible by picking the locks. Where she learned the skill, I had no idea. I didn’t want her to be mistaken for a thief by my neighbors, so I gave her a spare key. Besides, she was at my place more often these days than back at our parents’ house anyway.

I looked at her with narrowed eyes. Ever since we were little, I had always been able to tell when Laide was keeping something from me. I raised a single eyebrow as I waited.

"Alright," she sighed. "I left because they've started their fights again."

Immediately, I understood.

Since we were little, our parents would constantly argue. One day could be worse than the other with doors slammed shut, tears shed, or household items broken. Sometimes, it was only about minor issues, but within those few days of nagging and arguments, the house became unbearable to live in. Over the years, Laide and I were able to create various means of blocking out their arguments. We lived in the bustling city of Lagos, and it was a miracle when I got my place in Surulere. It became a haven for both of us. I decided to get a place that was only a couple of hours away from home because I didn't want to be too far from my little sister. She still needed me.

"Do they know you're here?" I asked.

"I highly doubt they even notice my existence, let alone my absence," Laide replied as she made herself comfortable on the sofa again.

I smiled sadly and pulled her off the sofa while she grumbled in protest.

"Have you eaten?" I asked.

"Well, if the two slices of bread I had in the morning count as substantial food, then yes."

I stared at her in shock.

"That is all you have eaten all day?"

She shrugged.

"Mom was too busy accusing Dad of wasting money on frivolous things to go to the market this morning, and when I got back from school, there was no food at home, and we both know that I am constantly broke—so broke it has nearly become an occupation."

"Come on." I chuckled as I led her into the kitchen. "You need to eat. Then you'll have a shower before—oh, wait, did you bring extra clothes?"

"Yeah, I brought some clothes," she said as she pointed to a small bag in the corner of the room. "Along with two pairs of my school uniform."

It seemed she planned to stay for more than just the weekend. When she was well-fed and fast asleep, I remembered my plans with my comfy bed for the evening and finally changed out of my clothes, showered, and collapsed unto the bed in a tired heap after I said my night prayers.

Laide was in the guest room, which was the only other bedroom. I thought the little house was just perfect when I first found it and very affordable too. I had a cozy living room and a makeshift dining area, a small kitchen, one bathroom, and my bedroom.

There was a tiny yard where the soil was fertile, so I turned it into a miniature garden where I planted some vegetables like ugu, lettuce, and waterleaf for quick, easy access. Plus, it was a good way to save some money. Just as I closed my eyes, my phone rang.

Terrible timing!

"Hello, maami. Good evening." I yawned sleepily, although I should have expected the call. Despite what Laide thought, our parents would notice that she wasn't home.

"Eniola, sorry if I woke you up, dear. How are you? I hope Laide is with you?"

I softened at the concern that was evident in her voice.

"Yes, she is. Don't worry. But she says you and Dad have started arguing again. What is it about now?"

At the age of twenty-three, I was already tired of playing the peacemaker during my parents’ frequent disagreements.

"Eniola," she sighed, "this time, it seems beyond me. If Laide doesn't want to come home quickly, I understand. Just tell her that I'm missing her, and, well, I—"

"It's okay. I'll let her know.”

"Alright, dear. Have a good night."

I knew my parents loved us both, despite being so caught up in their problems almost all the time, but Laide needed to be convinced of this fact. They did their best to support us. It was even more difficult to support me when I was pursuing my business degree at the University of Lagos. We weren't wealthy, but we weren’t lacking, and we lived within our financial capabilities. My mom was a trader, while Dad was a civil servant. Aside from his job, he also had a small business where he sold furniture. He was a carpenter back in his younger days but still retained the skill.