Running in Someone Else’s Race


Olufunke Cole

By Olufunke Cole

I was going to talk about a story to someone when I heard a knock on my door. Quickly, I ran to the knob to open only to find a long time friend looking so dashingly cute in a flowing flowery gown. “Wow, babe”, I had shouted in ecstasy. I am sure she must have felt so pleasantly excited with my pleasantries as I showered on her more praises. Anyway, I hurriedly made her comfortable on the sofa. “What would you like to take”? I asked her, as I took a step further, close to the sofa she had comfortably relaxed her head on. But, it came to me as a rude shock as she made to decline that offer. Invigoratingly, I was perturbed at the dismissal gesture her hands had raised. She confessed to me that she had already hit it big in terms of money, as that statement we usually make whenever we need to express a form of financial satisfaction. “Toor, that is great news”, I retorted. She held my hands together and made for my ears as she whispered some mutterings that suggested that she needed a form of privacy.

Quickly, I suggested that we could walk down the stairs and have a stroll around the environment. “Funke, don’t you see my pictures on Facebook, haven’t you taken note of my glamorous appearance and clothing lines and the rest?”, she asked. Retortingly, I laughed hysterically, sensing that she must have been conversant with my way of life. I hate to admit that I have a horrible fashion taste especially when the price ranges are not within my reach. I was quick to remind her how poorly fashionably conscious I was. I’m sure she must have heaved a sign of relief to exclude me from further description of her innanities. Sure, I was not someone to be placed on such pedestal.

I do not get fascinated by glittering possessions as they sometimes may not truly represent treasures. She must have felt that I had dealt a huge blow on her description. After some deep thought, I realised that a kind of fortune was smiling on her either on the peripheral or otherwise. Probably, it was a cosmetic framework, I didn’t know. As we got up to leave for the grocery, I noticed that she had come in a Hyundai locomotive . Somehow, we slipped into another round of conversation on how she got the doughs to purchase it. “Oh, it’s a long story, my dear”, she chuckled. Within a flash, she tucked some wads of naira notes into my hands. Was it necessary asking for regulation when I do not have the handbook? I thoughtfully dismissed that response.

To be accurate with details, we returned back after the decision on heavy shopping. I must have had a handful of goodies as I bid her farewell to her abode. I had barely forgotten about our meeting when I ran through her Instagram account to check if we could have a chit-chat on her return to school for a master’s degree programme. In a second, I decided to place a call to her. Alas, I got through but her voice sounded like someone who was writhing in pains. “Hey, what’s happening to you?,” I screamed while the sounds of the pain became louder. ”
“I am not fine “, she responded.” Okay, I will check on you tomorrow “, I said.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t check on her the next day because I got a bid to fulfil. Although, I had transversed my night into ruminations on unspecified assumptions. I couldn’t figure out what must have happened.
I must have thought to visit her, even, amidst cynical feelings.

To be continued.

-Olufunke Cole is a Doctoral Student, Department of History, University of Logos