I’m going gaga

I just woke up from sleep and had being in bed for over 2hrs early in the night. I struggled to take a quick gaze at the time and it was just 7:15pm. It was a Friday and I sat on the chair and placed my head uncomfortably on the take in front of the G.P’s desktop computer on the table. I was in my trousers and a singlet.
Wole, a roommate of mine in Pharmacy, came into the corner and told me that a lady wanted to see me. ‘What is her name?’ I asked bluntly, thinking he was doing the usual aro. ‘Sorry sister what is your name?’ he heard him asked behind the curtain, but I didn’t hear the response. ‘Margret,’ He told me. I told him to let her in as I wore my red T-shirt.
How can I forget Margret, the most difficult of all ladies in the world? Though we are good friends, and my heartbeat increases when I see her, yet she makes me feel a little lesser than important. We were having several unsettled issues and some persons think we will best of couples, other believe that it will be the most regrettable marriage ever. Yet, she had and still inspires my literary works and brings the creative side of me out to the fore. I had lost touch of her because the last time I called her was disastrous. She didn’t stopped telling me she felt nothing for me and that she will never want anything serious with me.
I watch her standing as I remembered the most dramatic encounter with my parents. It was just this break; my mum woke me up at around 3am in the morning. My dad was also readily seated by my bed. I was asked to sit up and I chose to sit on a stool in the corner of the room. My mum ordered that I should sit in between the both of them, and there I was, in the middle of Daddy and Mummy and they started. ‘You told us the girl you are in love with is Margret, why not let her meet us?’ asked my dad politely. ‘It is a lie, he is just using any girl that comes his way, he does not want to be serious with one lady, you don’t want to be responsible, you are not a catholic and you cannot tell me that you want to be a reverend father. Don’t you dream big? Imagine, you will graduate in December, I know God will open doors, what if you hit it big in less than one year after graduation, is that when you will start that search for a wife? They will just marry you because of your money….’ She wouldn’t stop the talk, reminding me that everyone in the family was either married or in a serious relationship, but for my kid sister.
‘Let’s hear from you, Tade, what is the problem with Margret?’ my dad interrupted my concerned mum. Immediately, I knew no approach will work but the born again approach. So I started with, ‘let us pray, dad please lead us in a short prayer.’
Dad took fifteen minutes to pray, binding and casting away every anti-women demonic spirit in me. After the prayer session, I told them that I have resolved that God should take control, since he cannot but make the best choice for me. I told them that nothing is wrong between with Margret and I, but the need to hear from the Lord is principal (as if the dream I have had was not sufficient enough).
Now, here she is in my room, ‘please make yourself comfortable,’ I broke the long boring but tension filled silence. She replied, ‘The bunk is low and I will be bending my back.’ I switch from the chair to the bed without thinking it twice. Of course, what do you from the first daughter of Adolf Hitler; she sat down comfortably as my tall but unthinking self squeezed in between the bunk. The feelings were still there; I became dumb and was just looking. I wanted to tell her how good her hair-do was, and how attractive she was, but I was scared of being called a fornicator by herself.
I started sweating despite the cold weather; my hands were visible shaking but found solace underneath my pillow. I wanted to talk but was scared of committing grammatical blunder, in the presence of one that I have better understanding of language more than. I was thinking, should I say, ‘what is it?’ No, I retorted, that will be an insult. I forced myself to stammer, ‘yeeeesss?’
She replied bluntly and in the most inhumane way, ‘I just came to collect the assignment given to us from Ima, we are to submit early tomorrow morning and since it is just a room from your and I have few minutes to waste, I came to say Hi, You know I’m a very busy lady, I will like to be excused,’ as she made way for the door.
I muster courage and I said goodbye, with no effort to see her off. Everyone needs a bit of pride. But deep within me, I was hurt, I can’t say I don’t love her, but it is obvious that she wants someone else.
I opened my eye only to discover that it was all a dream. I was having terrible headache and feeling sickly. ‘This lady won’t kill me,’ I muttered to myself. I guess I’m going gaga.


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