The Congruence IV

All my money was gone…it was as if someone died. I tried to be calm but I just couldn’t. It wasn’t long before I started to cry…some of the girls in the room scolded me for being careless.

They said I should know better, some wanted me to report to the porters but I wasn’t sure how that would get me my money back. I knew it had to be one of them but I wasn’t psychic.

Deola came in the middle of the furor; I hadn’t seen her all weekend.
When she heard what happened, she told me not to worry about it.

She asked me to come with her, I did and when we got to the hostel entrance, she gave me over three thousand naira. They were One Hundred Naira notes…she had a bundle and just grabbed like half of it and handed it over to me.

I was dumbfounded, I almost didn’t want to take it but she wasn’t going to debate it…she didn’t even ask how much was stolen.

I didn’t know how to thank her, I almost knelt for her.

She then gave me her phone because I had mentioned that I wanted to call my mum with part of the money that was stolen. She told me to bring the phone to her whenever I was done with it

“I don’t know what to say” I said as I fought back my tears

“Don’t worry about it…I really like you. You are a pretty girl” Deola said as she walked away

I didn’t quite understand what she meant but that didn’t even matter at that time.

I quickly dialed my sister’s number and It was so nice hearing my mum’s voice…I wanted to continue but didn’t want to be greedy so I had to end the call and return the phone to the owner.

It was as if that incident officially cemented our friendship…because we became closer from that day. She would ask me to go to the buttery with her and would pay for my food. She even gave me some clothes and shoes. I couldn’t say no…they were so nice compared to my own clothes. She was going to throw them away if I didn’t want them because she needed more room for her new clothes.

Deola was the first person to ever take me to a salon to fix my hair and I couldn’t believe my eyes afterwards.

“Na me be this?” I blurted out…Deola laughed and told me she’s always seen me as a beautiful girl and all I needed was a little polishing.

At this point, I had told her the story of my family and how I grew up. She told me she wasn’t from a well to do family either but had learned to fight poverty with all of her being. I was shocked to hear this because Deola looked like those people we called “butter”.  

The next time sister Grace visited, she was shocked to see me…she couldn’t hide it. She said I had changed a lot and was looking very beautiful. She wanted to know what was happening but I quickly allayed her fear and suspicion. I introduced her to my god-sent friend Deola. My sister thanked her until it was almost becoming embarrassing.

The gifts kept coming, I was like a new person on campus, like a complete makeover…boys started to notice me and I had a lot of them daily pestering me for a relationship. I was still on my war against men so none of them could "penetrate" my heart.

Because of the sanitary state of the hostel bathrooms, it wasn’t long before I caught something…it started with an itch and I went to the health center. It was really bad; I had to take a lot of antibiotics and was told to get rid of all my panties. Who would buy me new ones? I thought to myself and because I failed to do what the doctor said, the infection lingered. Sister Grace had to come over with a new set of panties for me. After I got better, I hated those bathrooms with a passion and would rather sneak around at night to relieve myself in the bushes.

About half way into the semester, on a Thursday evening, I was in the room studying for a test when Deola told me she was travelling to London for the weekend and would see me on Monday. I was a little confused because as far as I knew, people that get a chance to travel abroad should never come back. Why would anyone travel abroad for 3 days? I didn’t know how much it cost but I knew it had to be expensive.

Deola returned to school on Monday evening and she brought me a lot of stuff…I was scared to collect them because they were just too much. She said she discussed me with her uncle that she travelled with and he had sent the gifts to me.

I might have been unexposed but things were just not adding up…how could an unemployed undergraduate that already told me she’s not from a rich home have so much?

PART 3                                                                                             PART 5

Picture Credit (c) hecticparents.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental   

© 2017 Lanre Olagbaju All Rights Reserved