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*takes a gulp of vodka*

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​​ I don’t mean to start this diary with a drink, but I figured that’s the best way to be both dull and active at the same time if you know what I mean.

No, I’m not a drunk by default but every now and then, I love “getting high” and no, I’m not a junkie either but I love taking a drag every now and then. I love sex and no, I’m not a sex addict, I just love the “connection” attached to it. Now that you know what I love, I guess that’s a good start. I should tell you my name already but since I didn’t start formally, I figured I could mention it at any point as we go on.

Okay, let me just mention it now because I can see the look on your faces. Should I tell you my English or Nigerian name? Errrrr, okay let’s do Nigerian. My name is or my names are (depending on the one you think is right, I’m too drunk to think about that now)…..

I noticed I’ve not specified my gender in any of my previous statements so I’m beginning to consider changing my gender, should I or should I not? Would it have a different outcome or would it be same? Maybe I shouldn’t lie about my gender in this or maybe not. That, I’d decide later. So I was going to tell you my name, my name is (I finally chose this one) Ayo Jack.​​

​​Some people call me Jack but I think that’s pretty weird for a female (if I’m one), a lot others call me AJ. You can call me whichever one you choose, I don’t mind. Okay, I’m bored. I’m the second son of my parents. My parents are based in UK, they don’t like Nigeria the way I do. I have most of my customers here so I can’t even afford to be away from here (Nigeria) for too long. Ohh you’re probably wondering which customers I’m referring to, I have a clothing line hence customers. I’m the boss so I don’t always have to be there present, I just have to stay in touch with valuable customers once in a while to keep enjoying their never ending patronage and referrals. I even meet with some of them sometimes due to our end of the year parties we hold every year. I forgot to mention that my clothing line is called “Hey Jay”, my best-friend suggested the name many years ago and I thought it was stylish so I decided to use it. ​​
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I’m a guy, and that’s my real gender (according to my definition of real). I live alone in a 3-bedroom apartment, my father’s house. I have three siblings and all are married. I’m in my early thirties but marriage isn’t really my thing, I rarely give it a thought unless on few occasions when my parents try to talk the idea into me and even try to introduce me to their friends’ unmarried kids but naaaa, that’s not my thing either. The last one I gave a try wasn’t a good experience or at least, not one I would love to repeat.
Her name was Toun, the sexiest girl I had ever met aside Grace (we’d talk about Grace later). When mum talked to me about Toun, she sounded sure that I would like her because she was extremely beautiful and had good manners, what else did a man want? So I obliged and became friends with Toun.​​

​​Toun was just perfect (physically though). She was gorgeous, tall, dark, and she had the “coke-bottle” kind of body. To crown it all, she had dimples and I love dimples. Dimples was what attracted me to Grace but Grace’s story can wait. Okay I liked Toun just the way mum envisaged but Toun was too clingy and soft (I don’t know if that’s a turn off for other guys though). She just couldn’t do anything without AJ. We were living together at some point because she couldn’t be without me, the only time we spent apart was when we were both at work and annoyingly, we didn’t work far apart so she came to my office at will and most times, without calling me first.

I don’t like surprise visits from anyone, but I can let it slide once or twice. When it becomes a norm, I get irritated with my guest. I don’t care if you live across my house, just call me first, always call me or text me first except if you have no mobile phone or airtime and I know no such person without either. Toun would never call before visiting. Even when we began living together, she would still come to my workplace unannounced, I couldn’t deal with that. That’s the clingy part.​​

​​For the soft part, Toun never gave me any form of trouble, she was too easy, did everything as instructed like a puppy. Even when I was wrong, she’d still be the one to apologize instead of it being the other way around. It wasn’t any fun for me, I mean, where’s the challenge? As much as I don’t like difficult people, I wanted a woman that would be stubborn to an extent, that kind of “good” stubborn if you know what I mean. Well, that was how Toun’s chapter ended. I just couldn’t deal with that.​​

​​As for Grace, Grace?


*smiles sheepishly and sadly at the same time*

Do I even want to talk about Grace now? Errrrr, I think not. Not talking about Grace seems to be an impossible feat so here we go. Grace was graceful (can you see what I did there, *winks*). Okay. Grace was the only woman that swept me off my feet 100 percent. She had it all – the good, the bad and the crazy. She was stubborn in a sexy way. Everything about her was sexy, her walk, her talk, her anger, her eating, her outfits, her trouble-making, I can’t even mention it all because the memories are rushing in and it’s likely going to do more harm than good.

Grace was a great cook too, she could cook anything and I mean anything. From continental to inter-continental to local dishes and so forth and you know how they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, she got my heart without struggling for it. You’re probably wondering how it ended if it was as sweet as I’m making it sound. Bad things don’t last and good things don’t last too or so they say. She had to go to the UK for her masters and she never came back, we communicated regularly for almost a year until she became too “busy” for me.

On a norm, no matter how busy she was, she could turn on the cam so I could see everything, she would always say

I’ve spoilt you, you can’t even stay one minute without me

and we’d laugh it off. I realized she had spoilt me when I noticed her gradual withdrawal from “us”. I even tried teasing her by saying

ehn Shebi you spoilt me, come spoil me more

and we’d laugh it off until one day she replied saying
Ayo, I can’t afford to anymore“.

She never calls me Ayo so I knew she was serious, it was either hey or heys (in the agbero way).​ I couldn’t believe my ears, I asked

“what do you mean you can’t afford to anymore?”

to which she replied by showing me her left hand displaying an engagement ring. I was dumb struck, I didn’t realize tears had started rolling down my eyes slowly. I had to ask:
how did this happen?”
to which she replied
it just happened” showing no form of remorse.
I’d talk to you later Ayo, I have some things to attend to
was the next response I got and that was the last I heard from her.

It was like a joke, she changed her phone numbers and blocked me on social media. I called all our mutual friends, some didn’t even know she was in UK talk less of knowing how to contact her. I skipped work for almost a month, drinking my self to death almost every night, everyone was worried about me except me. My personal assistant wouldn’t let me be alone for fear that I might do something crazy, she would always drag me out to some fun place and even sleep over sometimes. During one of her sleep overs, we did “it” and that was my first step to sanity. She became my side chic though I didn’t have a main one. I began to heal…slowly. I could never forget. Grace, my lover and best-friend but I could pretend to.​​
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About the author

Aanu is a freelance creative writer and a contributor at Crazitive Africans. You can find more of her pieces on her blog.