Chronicles Of A Runs Girl - S01 E47

2 years ago

Chronicles Of A Runs Girl - S01 E47

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 47

I was hungry, you see, and I’d not forgotten the meal we had at Uncle China’s house, so I told Mama to call him that we were coming, and I went to clean up and change into my Boubou that shows the sides of my boobs through the arms and the shape of my bum when I gathered the cloth playfully at the sides.

Mama either did not call Uncle China, or she knew about the party and decided not to tell me.

When the red cab dropped us off in front of his house it was obvious from the row of cars that there was a party somewhere, but I didn’t think it was at his place.

When we knocked on the gateman’s window, a policeman opened the gate to see who we were. I looked inside his compound and there were more cars parked there, and people milling around.

Mama asked for one of the usual guards by name and this was enough to convince the officer that we belonged there. That, or he saw two girls and concluded that we were just part of the fodder.

“What is happening?” I asked Mama as we stepped into Uncle China’s compound and into festival of a party. There were babes everywhere; more babes than men, far more babes.

“’Is a party nao.”

“Party? You knew?”

“Amaka, abeg, le’s go inside jor.”

“Mama, I didn’t come here for a party.”

“You want to be going back now?”

“Mama, wait. Look at my face, I can’t do this.”

“Nothing is wrong with your face jor.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

I had dabbed on enough powder to cover the bruises, and the swelling had gone down a lot.

“I did not plan for this.”

“Oh, Amaka, you have come again. Shebi we just came to see him? Abi? Ehn, let us see him first and after we can go nau, abi?”

It was only then that I noticed she had worn her Apple Bottom jeans and was carrying her fake Louis Vuitton bag.

“Babes, I can’t go inside looking like this.”

“Like how? So you want us to be going now?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. Call a cab then.”

She stood there as if she really expected me to call a cab. She called my bluff instead.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me. “Come jor, le’s go inside.”

It wasn’t the first time someone would ‘hail’ Mama, but when we entered the house and the first thug who saw us went into a loud – obviously alcohol bolstered – “Mama niyen! Mama kan, Lagos kan!” I wanted to enter the ground.

We were in the midst of a party that was so huge it had spilled into the corridors and the hallway and the staircase. It felt like a club in there, only that the music playing was Juju, Sunny Ade, to be precise.

The smell of food was heavy in the air. Moin-moin and party jollof rice, and fried meat.

“Wey Uncle dey?” Mama asked the tout.

He pointed the way with an arm that had a bottle of Star in a neck strangle.

“He dey pool side.”

He looked at me and did a little bow.

“Sister, I dey hail o.”

I pretended I didn’t hear him.

We made our way through the house and through lots and lots of people, mostly young girls and old men, to get to the pool side. There, we found a less riotous gathering. Men, old rich-looking men, were sitting on white plastic chairs around white plastic tables arranged in a circle around the small heart-shaped swimming pool. A few girls kept them company, but quite a few tables only had men, eating pounded yam and egusi with their bare hands and talking and laughing the way rich men talk.

Uncle China saw us before we saw him. He got up from his table, upsetting a few bottles of star, and walked over to us.