Abby’s Diary #8 By Fiksionist

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Dear Diary,

I am a girl of a certain age; I will not tell you how old I am ‘cause in Nigeria, women don’t tell their ages. Yeah, I am old school like that. Anyway, in this age or stage, I could easily detect when I was being played, being serenaded or being loved but the problem is, when a man uses all three skills, I get a little confused. Sometimes a woman wants all three; player, lover and stud. Yeah, stud.

So, with Jake, he came with all three and as I stood before him in my compound and talked mindlessly about the weather, the government and Caitlyn Jenner…Dear Diary to be honest I can’t remember what I said to him but I knew I was talking. My mind was running round in circles, wondering if my hair was packed properly, what I ate last and I really regretted why I didn’t polish my stilettos (by the way, my feet was hurting but I was trying to strike a pose like Naomi Campbell in front of Jake). In my mindless banter and fake laughter, he stepped closer and I immediately took a step back.

“Relax Abby.” I allowed him brush off something off my chin and in response to his touch, I shivered a little. He smiled and scratched his brows. Scratching his brows was a habit I noticed because he did that about three times subconsciously.

“Thank you.”

“Maybe that was just an excuse to touch you…again” he said with a smile.

The guy was just pressing all my mumu buttons. Sigh. Praise be to God that I am dark in complexion ‘cause he would have just seen my cheeks turn pink. “Jake what are you doing here?” I asked

“I came to see you .”

“How did you know where live?”

“My driver, remember?”



Awkward silence.


“Errr… am I supposed to say something?”

Am I supposed to say something? See talk o! So he can’t say sorry for abandoning me in that heavenly place? “Jake I am a little tired. You should go.”

As I turned to leave…

“Maybe I came back because I want us to be friends…maybe more than friends?”


“Abby don’t make this harder…I am not that young to know the right to say and I have a very terrible voice…I would have sang a lil Lionel Richie to make you know how sorry I am for leaving that way…I just want us to start something…lets be friends…at least”

At least he didn’t say Wizkid. How refreshing to hear a guy waxing poetic.  Stuttering through his words and looking like an 18 year old just made my knees weaken. This Jake guy had me raising my white flag.

“Hi. I am Abigail Idemudia.”

He smiled and his million dollar dimples appeared. “I am Jake Sowemimo. Can we stroll a bit?”

I took his outstretched hand and we walked into the night.


I got back in by 11pm and from the door I heard Ogama playing Falz’s ‘Karashika’. I was so tired of the song because it was on replay all day, no matter the mood she was in.

“Ogama it’s 11pm and you are blasting this song like its 5pm. Abeg reduce the volume.”


“We de quarrel?” I turned the volume down and settled into her bed. She had covered up in her duvet and was looking intently at her phone. “Babe are you okay?”

She dropped her phone and I noticed her eyes were red. Ogama hardly cries so I knew this had to be serious. “Julius and I are so through.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I know I should have told you but anyway, this is the gist. I have a f*** buddy-“


“Just listen abeg.” She sighed and sat up. “He has been my f*** buddy for a while and at some point I caught feelings for him. I knew he wasn’t going to be serious with me ‘cause he said he wants to concentrate on his career and all that shit guys say when they are not that into you.  We sha agreed to our initial rule. So today, Julius came over and while checking stuff on my phone, he saw my messages with the guy…and said he it’s over”

“Ogama did you try apologising? ‘Cause i know you-”

“Why should I? The guy does nothing but tell me he won’t touch me till we get married. He bores me to death with all his ‘goodness’! He should go abeg.” She picked up her phone and turned it off.

“Then why are you hurting if you don’t care?”  I asked

“I am not hurting. I am upset because he feels like he is too good and was trying to make me feel bad with his small hands.”

I almost laughed but when I saw her serious expression, I kept mute. “Ogama I think-“

“Don’t. Seriously, I don’t need Julius. My father has lots of money and I don’t need a man to make me feel complete in any stupid way. Feminist till I drop mehn.”

She was one of those people who were feminists only in the sense of relationships and nothing else. I don’t blame her; she had it good right from birth and was from a wealthy and loving family. So you see, sometimes, her ways of reasoning was way different from mine.  Ogama could afford not to work and still get her monthly allowance from her dad or any rich boyfriend like Julius. My case was the exact opposite that’s why I still cannot understand her cry for feminism when men practically did everything for her.

“How did it go with Jake?” she asked smiling.

“He said we should be friends.”

“ How?”

“What do you mean by how? He said we should be friends and then we strolled around a bit before he drove off.”

“ I still don’t get this ‘friends’ thingy; how can you be his friend after screwing him? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way round? Abi is he looking for friends with benefits?”

I didn’t like where Ogama was going with this but I wasn’t going to spoil my evening because of her. “Ogama I’m cool with it so leave it. Did you cook?”

She ignored my question. “ That guy is so hot and I know your panties are already growing restless but first of all, you have to be careful. The guy seems older and more experienced. Why isn’t he married or something?”

“Must all men at that age be married?” the irritation was catching up with my voice.

“ Wait o…Abigail, I hope you haven’t selected aso ebi in your head already?” She looked like she was in shock as she waited for my response. I am so sure the look on my face betrayed me because she started shaking her head slowly. “Abby, you just met this guy o.”

“And so? Me I want to get married too Ogama. I am so tired of being lonely.” i replied honestly.

“Then buy a dildo! Buy a freaking dildo and knock yourself out but don’t jump into hot water with Jake. Let him come after you.” She said pleadingly.

I sighed and got up from her bed carrying my hand bag with me. “ Ogama sort things out with Oga Julius.”

“ There goes movie night. Men and their problems.”

“Na you kukuma sabi. Lemme go and look for food.”

I wasn’t even hungry but I shoved down eba and egusi into my mouth. My stomach was full with just thinking about how good it felt to see Jake. He came back for me! My stomach went all mushy mushy as I thought about him.We didn’t really talk about anything but just being with him felt like everything. Sigh.

Dear Diary, I think I am in love.


I had promised Aunty Alero that I will come over to her house but I had gotten a call from His Royal Sexiness (aka Jake) and he was asking me out to dinner. I didn’t respond but I knew I would go and then later send a text to Aunty to apologise.

But there was a problem. I didn’t have what to wear.

I and Ogama stood amidst my clothes, in my very scattered room looking as lost as ever.

“Babe I need to go to Yaba and look for what to wear. I can’t see him in any of these clothes.”

“And I think you are blowing this outta proportion.” She looked around thoughtfully.” So you never dressed up to see that moron?” That moron is Tayo.

“We never really went out like that. Ogama let’s go now, please. I will buy Cold Stone for you” I batted my lashes and started singing Karashika to her.

“You know I hate that place with all my heart and those creepy boys will start dragging you till you feel your flesh crawl.”

“Ogama please now. Should I start singing again?”

“Oya, don’t sing.Please don’t spoil the song. I will come but you must buy ice cream as promised.”

We got dressed up in shirt and denim to go to Yaba –


Dear diary, for those who don’t know, Yaba market is the unofficial boutique for girls like me who can’t afford the Louis Vuittons, Channels and Tiffanys. We go there to literally bend down and select clothes at affordable prices. They were fairly used clothes but nice but it was a total hustle on its own. you have to drag and fight and maybe bite a few to ensure nobody takes your pick. Okay, maybe I just exaggerated a bit but that’s partially it.


We were about locking the front door when a car pulled to a stop in front of our gate. The man in the car walked up to us with designer labelled shopping bags. I knew the face was familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“Good afternoon ma.”

“Good afternoon” We both chorused.

“My boss said I should give you these.”  He handed the bags to me

Me and Ogama exchanged looks and I took them.

“Who is your boss?” Ogama asked.

“Capt. Sowemimo.”

instantly, i remembered  who the man was; the driver that dropped me at home from the resort. Ogama looked at me with a huge smile on her face.She snatched the bags and hurriedly unlocked the door, leaving me outside, beaming at the chauffeur. I hadn’t seen the clothes but the fact that he did this just made me speechless.

Dear Diary, I don’t think I am in love…I am in love.



She is a writer, blogger, bathroom-singer and she loves to laugh. Her mind is her playground and if you want to know more… Visit Follow her on Twitter @loglilmary


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