New Crush Alert: Shayin

Last night, I was to have dinner with a friend, someone really important to me.
I’d planned to leave my office on the island at 5 or probably a little earlier so I could get to Ikeja City Mall in time which was where we had chosen to meet.
Then work happened and I found myself leaving at 6.

I already knew I’d missed beating traffic so the issue was just finding a cab that would take me to my destination without a price that would cut my throat. So I flagged down this cab and the driver was a nice looking, young lad. Didn’t look like he was up to 26. I smiled sweetly and told him my destination and after a bit of haggling we agreed on a price that was reasonable.

The traffic was pretty intense and frankly, I was tired but somehow this guy managed to keep me engaged. We had a sound conversation about politics and government and life and it was pretty impressive. He said he would call me ‘Jovi’ short for Jovita because of my smile and I thought it was really cute. Which was a little weird. Corny things like that usually get under my skin but this didn’t bug me at all. I asked for his name and he said it was “Shayin” pronounced as “Shayne” He’s from Benue state, has really cute dimples and an attractive accent that is a blend of Hausa and something else I cannot immediately describe.

So we talked a lot and about 2 hours later, he dropped me off. I was almost going to take his number but I changed my mind at the last minute. I rarely take cabs. What was the point?
My friend and I were chatting over drinks and he was teasing me about crushing on the cab guy. The night was only just beginning and it was looking good. Then I mentioned a text message I’d received and wanted to show him. I checked my bag and realized I couldn’t find the phone. I didn’t panic then because I was sure it was in some corner of the bag. We dialed the number and it rang out and I didn’t hear a thing. Sigh. Wahala.

The phone in question was my official line and I began to worry but only just a little. You see, I have a thing against loud ring volumes on my phones so my devices are usually either on silent, vibrate or the lowest volume possible. In this case, it was on the lowest volume.
So I called and called at least 10 times but nothing. My friend told me not to worry and asked that I stop calling so I wouldn’t run down the already low battery and I reluctantly agreed.
The night did turn out alright but by the time I got home and remembered the phone, I was a little upset. I went to bed and woke up this morning just angry. I called like another ten more times between 5am and about 11 and still nothing.

I had pretty much given up on getting the phone back when my regular line rang at about noon. I saw the number just as I had stored it “Official Line” and my heart leaped for joy. Lol! He said he had seen the phone, there was no credit on it so he recharged it and dialed the number that had been calling it all through.

I was touched. Really. He came by my office and dropped off the phone but we couldn’t talk because he had a passenger in his car. So I simply asked for his number and promised to call later.

Shayin impressed me. Really. It was in the manner of conversations we had yesterday, the way his mind worked and then the trouble he had to go through to get my phone back to me. Young guys like him are hard to find. Really. But people like him make me hopeful for Nigeria’s future.

So there you have it, I’ve got a new crush, his name is Shayin and he’s a cute cab driver J

May everything you have ever lost find its way back to you. 😀

Enjoy the rest of your week!


Nineteen or Ninety

My grandmother passed on four months ago.

I was at the office when my little brother called me with the news.

Granny was 97, had lived life to the fullest and had been waiting patiently to go home.

I still couldn’t quite accept her death when it came.

I remember being numb and unable to cry. But the sense of loss was great.

She had always been there and in my mind, she would always be there so the idea of her being no more was something I found rather hard to accept.

Granny nicknamed me “Gogo” and that name stuck on me like glue.

She was sick the last part of her days. Well, old people sickness. Her knees mostly. She would lie in bed more than half the day, she would eat only little portions of food and she would tighten her fist around her rosary.

Whether they are 19 or 90, the loss of a loved one is never quite easy to bear. When people consoled me on Granny’s death, I found myself saying “Naah, it’s cool. She was 97. She don chop life” but deep down in my heart was a nagging pain, a void created that would never be filled.

With each loved one lost, it feels like a part of me dies.

I felt that way when Kess died. I felt that way when Femi (Ribadu) died. I felt that way when IK my cousin was murdered.

I felt like they had taken a part of me away forever and with each passing day, I find myself trying to adapt and adjust, in spite of the number of years that have passed.

Kess died about 5 years ago but I still dream about him. It’s not like we dated or anything. He was just a really great friend that sickle cell took away from me.

With Ribadu, I think it was kinda worse. A young, jovial guy went jogging, slumped and died. 2 years ago. Till tomorrow, I’ll never be able to wrap my head around it.

Kess and Ribadu were both less than 20 when they died.

IK. Each time I visit his home, a part of me expects him to show up and tease me as usual. IK passed on 8 months ago. His memory is something I have kept somewhere safe, never to be tampered with. IK was 26

Saturday night, Nosa my friend told me about his dad’s passing.

And tonight, it’s Raphael’s dad.

You know how you want to console or encourage someone and you try to let them know that you feel their pain?


For Nosa and Raph, I had no words.

The ages did not matter, they were loved ones. And as the case with most of us, we sometimes expect our loved ones to live forever. We expect them to be in their homes every evening. We expect to receive phone calls from them and we expect them to pick up ours. We expect that they’ll be at their next birthdays, probably throwing a party. We expect that they would never go away from us.

But because life, we wake up one morning and they’re no longer there.

Whether they were 19 or 90 doesn’t exactly make it any less painful. My mum and her sisters cried like babies at granny’s funeral. With all my boss lady attitude, I cried too. I had grown up to know and love that woman with everything that I am.

Occasionally, I think about her and that nagging pain returns, a void in my heart that will never be filled. I most certainly will not have another grandmother, ever again. Same thing with Kess. And Ribadu. And IK. No matter how many people I meet, there’ll never be another Kessiena Uyobvisere. There’ll never be another Femi (Ribadu) Ademiju. And there most certainly will never be another cousin, Ikechukwu Amanambu.

What’s my point tonight?

Make every moment count with your loved ones. Life is too short to not foster great relationships and build fantastic memories. No matter how important a person is to you, they can never be with you forever. So make every moment count.

For you Raph, I pray you find strength and comfort in Jesus. I have absolutely nothing to offer.