Heh! I don’t think I will ever be able to understand how some people reason sometimes. I really do like to mind my business but when it comes to certain issues, I throw caution to the wind and don’t care if I get insulted. I would launch into an inhibited and uncensored sermon, not minding that they made faces or scoff. Of course, I do it out of love, whether they want that love or not. I do it not because I will suffer the consequences with them but because I don’t even want to see them suffer consequences.
Mofe had called me like he would any other day – nothing out of the ordinary there. However, he had sounded perplexed – now that, was out of the ordinary. He had said he couldn’t explain himself over the phone and I didn’t insist because I feared he might break down into tears.
I threw my phone and wallet into a small purse and made for the door. Since Mofe lived only streets away, I got there in minutes. As I walked up to the door, Mofe swung the door open and ushered me in quickly. I had intended to crack jokes on getting to his house, perhaps, it would help him lighten up a little. One glance at his face and I knew my jokes would be pointless.
My heart began to pound as I wondered what could be bothering him so much. He eventually came to sit beside me on the couch. I didn’t touch him, didn’t say a word to prompt him, didn’t stare; I simply waited. After a few minutes of silence, He did a brief breathing exercise and turned to face me.
“Toju, please listen first before you say anything, ok?”
I simply nodded.
Mofe began, “Remember Lady A, the lady I was chatting with on Facebook? Well, we eventually met up… and had sex… six rounds in one night!”
I wanted to jump off the couch and scream an endless string of razz salutations with corresponding salutes and dances, but Mofe’s countenance made me behave. I struggled to keep a straight face. Hey God, which kind of punishment is this? See sauce and I am not even allowed to react dramatically, I thought as I hissed under my breath.
Ignoring my muffled hiss, Mofe continued, “I used protection on the first five rounds but then, I had run out of condoms without realising it. So, for the sixth round, we went skin-to-skin”.
My eyes were threatening to pop out, I wanted to scream and insult the living daylight out of him. A small ball of rage began to build inside me. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed hard; it was all I could do from exploding in his face.
Mofe paused for a few minutes, allowing me some time to process that bit of information and to recover. Finally, my breathing slowed and I searched his face. Oh my God no! There is more? Something went terribly wrong, didn’t it? I tossed around the rhetorical questions in my head.
Mofe sighed and picked up from where he left off, “Well, after a week-long of confusing symptoms and speculation, her doctor confirmed her pregnant. I, Mofe, a 30-year-old gentleman, have impregnated a 38-year-old cougar! And that’s not the worst part… She is determined to keep the baby. She reasoned that at least, if she isn’t married at 38, she might as well have a child. Meanwhile, my introduction with Kylie is in a week. Toju, what am I supposed to do?”
I am quite intelligent by any standard; still, my mind struggled to process the information it just received. How do I begin to react? Which part do I respond to first? I was at a complete loss.
Mofe stared at me for a while before saying, “now will be a great time to say something. What do I do? Please, advise me”, Mofe urged, almost crying.
I shook my head as I managed to mutter, “This is definitely above my pay grade. You have to let me think.”
I pushed off the couch to get some drink from his fridge. I sat there alone at the kitchen table, caressing the mouth of the glass cup with a fingertip as I thought. I already knew what he had to do but I knew he won’t like it one bit. Finally, I walked to the kitchen door and leaned against its frame.
“Mofe, you have to tell Kylie”. I raised my hands to stop his protests and continued, “You have messed up big time but this is the right thing to do. When you tell Kylie, she will either call off the engagement for a while, leave you completely or go ahead with the wedding… with terms and conditions, of course.”
Mofe didn’t bother to argue anymore; he knew I was right. I went back into the kitchen to sit alone again and think over how many times I had preached to Mofe: Stay away from fornication; it does take only once to get knock up or infected. Decisions have consequences.