Aborted Romeos — Issue Five

[ThatYorùbáGuy]

Aborted Romeos — Five

The Sahara Sunset

I was preparing to go out when Adeola came back from work. I was going on a date with Zara this evening.

"Bimbo, abeg, you cook?" Adeola asked as he entered the sitting room.
He had just come from work, carrying his smart briefcase like a child compelled to carry his mother's goods against his wish.

"No. I just drank cornflakes."

"You and junks," he hissed, "how about you, Jabari?"

"What's bad in taking something light?" Bimbo queried.

"Na because you broke jare."

"You dey ment ni?"

"Guys, guys, can we not argue? We don't need it now," I came in before the flame became a furnace.

"I cooked some spaghetti. I can still spare you some of it."

"Thanks, man."

"This time last week, you'd have branched Cynthia's place first before coming home," Bimbo announced.

"You dey craze."

"Haba, Bimbo, that was a low blow," I added, playing peacemaker again.

"How far, have you heard from her?" I said after him as he walked to his room.

"Hell no. I don't ever want to hear from her again."

About a week ago, Adeola had walked in upset and distraught that he caught his girlfriend in a sexually questionable act. He had completed an important assignment at the office and lobbied his happy boss to allow him to close for the day. Leaving the office by 2 pm that day, earlier than the routine 6 pm, and having ample time to spend, he went straight to Cynthia's apartment at Shomolu only to catch her neck-deep cheating with another woman.
Now, I would feel bad for someone who caught his cheating girlfriend in the act, but less for a womanizer like Adeola. Still, when he told me, I felt sorry for him. He would be unable to get over the shock until three days later.
I checked the time. It was quarter past six in the evening. I went inside my room to dish the food for Adeola and put it on the centre table in the sitting room.

"I'm going out. I should be back before 11 pm," I told Bimbo.

 
        **********

Sahara Sunset, a tranquil haven by the Lagoon, was my hidden retreat from the relentless noise of Lagos. The rural-themed beauty of the place always managed to breathe life into my weary soul, and tonight, I had the pleasure of sharing this cherished spot with Zara.

We strolled along the edge of the Lagoon, the soft, live music played by Femi Toledo and his Merry Men taking its place as a comforting backdrop to the serene night. Zara looked around, taking in the picturesque view and turned to me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Jabari, this place is beautiful, o. How did you find it?" she asked, her lips curling into a gentle smile.

I couldn't help but smile in return, the memories of this place and its significance in my life flooding back. "It's called Sahara Sunset. I stumbled upon this place a few years ago, not long after I returned to Lagos from my NYSC," I began, my voice taking on a reflective tone. "I was wandering Lagos like a tourist looking for the best place for relaxation." Zara nodded, understanding in her eyes, and sipped her cold Snapp drink. We continued to walk, her presence next to me a source of warmth on this cool evening. Yet, as I gazed at the calm waters of the Lagoon, my mind wandered into the depths of my past, one that held bittersweet memories of love and heartache.

"I haven't told you this before," I confessed, "but the first time I came here was on my first date with Abike, one of my ex-girlfriends." I paused for a moment, letting the words hang in the air.

Zara looked at me, her expression a mixture of curiosity and understanding. "Hmn-mn? What happened?"

I sighed, the memory of that day etched into my soul. "Things didn't work out with Abike," I admitted, my gaze still fixed on the Lagoon. "It wasn't anyone's fault; we just grew apart. She's moved on, and so have I."

As I spoke, I realized that the Lagoon side had become a place of therapy for me, a place where I could confront my past and heal the scars left by failed relationships. I had brought Zara here tonight with a purpose, to let go of the ghosts of the past, to make new, happy memories and, perhaps, to find closure.

"I brought you here tonight," I continued, turning to Zara, "because this place is special, and you are special."

"Haha, so romantic," Zara said smilingly.

"I'm serious."

"I know."

Her words brought a smile to my face, and as Femi Toledo's band played a soulful tune, I realized that Sahara Sunset had once again offered me solace.