…and as I walked through the familiar path of potholes that led to the doorsteps, where we had spent many starry nights cuddling and looking into each other’s sunken eyeballs, memories came flooding back as the fragrance of the rose bushes wafted over me. In my mind’s eye I could see him shirtless, flashing his usual signature smile and barbecuing pork chops in the garden. Pork! How we used to race each other to Korkor’s domedo joint.


I have plans of passing by after work today. Do you mind? You may have to entertain me with the usual because I’ve got a lot on my mind and I need a distraction. Hopefully, I don’t get to forget I have a meeting tomorrow..

See you soon.


My knocks on the door were feeble and evenly timed as though I was uncertain of knocking in the first place. Suddenly I realized my throat had gone dry and my palms were getting sweaty. At last, I took courage to send in a few knock and called out “Kekeli, Kekeli,…agoo are you in there?”

He came out shirtless, stared deeply at the figure standing in front of him. It was as if he wanted to say his last words and all. his heart thumping excitedly against his chest, The emotions bottled up on the inside pushed upwards threatening to choke him… He took another long and careful gaze and smiled.

Hey you…

before anything else, I have something to say. Don’t get alarmed! Nothing’s happened! Nothing’s been said! We still are the good friends we deceptively tell ourselves we are despite all the signs.

have you ever felt that way before? When the one person you’ve ever TRULY loved is that one person you very well know you aren’t allowed to??

I mean can you imagine all the restraint and emotional willpower it’s taken me to roll along, stay mute and pretend as if nothing is happening to me?

Maybe it’s an infatuation, sis, but what I do know is I’m elated when I’m in her company; when all her focus is me and the kind of vibe is unexplainable.

A love that may never well be…

I have no idea if the gods have anointed her as the one for me, all I know is when I’m with her I’m spurred  to be better; to do better; to look out for the best in me… if ‘us’ would ever be; if ‘us’ would ever materialize but this I do know…. Her ilk is rare…

Demedo : Fried pork usually sold in the evenings at a busy spot or joint.


One response to “IT’S NO FAULT OF MINE…”

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