SUGAR III

That very Monday that you still dread, Sugar had really sought after you. But you told her you would look for her immediately you get a window. Later you’d wish you forfeited your plans to go see her if it meant being face to face with a fast approaching tragedy.

You were having a very busy day on that Monday. You spent the rest of it in the library after class. The peaceful environment it gives is what your creativity thrives on. The network there suddenly became shitty and you were to leave for a brother’s place anyway. You had a project together with some other lovely chics that you two had to fix wings on. He was leaving class at the time and so you met and left school hurriedly not to be caught by the rain. Unfortunately it began raining. You figure that it may take time before it stops raining so you’d rather board a motorbike. In five minutes you’d have beaten the rain. Your brother agrees and he hops on behind you.

Teren! Teren!

You have an awful mentality against the rain. Those five minutes of rain were only going to worsen it. There were two people in your mind as you helplessly watched tragedy impending. Jesus and Sugar. In that order. Jesus, who is the Saviour of mankind and at the time, your only source of salvation. Sugar, who by then was just chilling in her digs cuddling with her duvet completely unaware that her’s truly was on a fast moving motorbike on a steep all weather road that suddenly developed a brake malfunction. That he was a millimeter away from crapping his pants while regretting why he had not given in to her call.

Ten Ten Teeeeren!

There were so many probable outcomes and the least of them all was making it out safe. You had heard how people got injured or succumbed to injuries from motorbike accidents and in a flash of a second, it filled your mind. The rider in nearly as much panic as you were – ordered you not hold on to him. “Usinishike usinishike!” So you opted to hold on to faith, which you’ll confess was no thicker than a string. Your brother, having somewhat been on rehearsals for events like these – jumped off the moving motorbike as soon as his survival instincts registered that the brakes had left you all in the hands of fate and the wind.

Yei And Amen

Since you lived to tell Sugar what had happened, it means you did make it out alive and well without a scratch. She was so pitiful and said she thanked Jesus you are safe. How about a fist bump for the Saviour yoh! Best believe that you vowed to opt to walk over short distances, never allow a motorbike on a slope after or when it’s raining and most importantly, you’d cut short the business that took you there to go and see Sugar.

On that day, she sent you off in style. A style that soothed your heart from the trauma of the near tragedy. The style, that only her lips know best.

Under Her Umbrella

If by any chance you ever think of the song ‘Under My Umbrella’, you can’t help but recap that you were once under her black umbrella but it wasn’t raining. You beg to explain in detail.

You had been in the library, now evidently the common spot in campus for you two – when lunch time struck. You text to ask her where she could be. She replied saying headed out for lunch from the library. Of course you were going to gate crash that. She waits for you half way towards the gate where you find her under an umbrella, shielding herself from the scorching sun. You offer to hold the umbrella for her, rather or the both of you – while not giving two shits about whether you two had suddenly become a public spectacle. Or if you like, the center of attraction. You have lunch at Alfa and you agree to meet her again after an hour at her place as you head back where? Correct mjango. The library.

At Your Service Your Highness

Up to date you don’t mind listening to her whenever she wants to vent out. When she needs to think out loud about certain dilemmas she finds herself in, you’re there. Like she’ll complement later saying, “You’re always there when needed,” after you reciprocate a question about what you know her for.

She’d also say you’re secretive. Which gets you thinking; how many more would say the same?

Speaking of being there when needed, there’s a time she served you nice porridge before you helped her decorate the walls of her house with stickers. You’d be very happy to have helped.

Queen of Surprises

You thought you were an expert in throwing surprises when one time, she beat you to it hands down. You’d be within the neighborhood when you decide to ambush her. But your kind of ambush is to call saying, “I’ll be at your doorstep in one minute or less.” At least to give a chance to her or the residents there to put on some clothes in case the freedom and letting loose in the house had gone on whole new level. Also because you once ambushed a mjango babe who knew you’d show up but not what time exactly.(Yea one Naitore, big fan suggested that the ladies be dubbed mano babes. As many as are of the opinion say ayyye!)

Fortunately for you and unfortunately for her, she’s a terrible liar even in her body language. In fact, she hadn’t prepped her cover up in advance. Long story short, as much as she tried to stop you from walking in, of which upon reading her body language you had already resolved not to want in – you spot a mjango sneaking out of the bedroom through the gap on the door curtain she was trying so hard to hold against the doorframe. Even his face pled guilty. Showing how cowardly and menial his territorial powers are. So fortunately for you because you were just in time to uncover a scam. Unfortunate for her because, well, you know, hehe, yeah.

She won’t sound like she would be uncomfortable with your surprise visit. (Sugar, not the scammer.) In fact she’d say she is cleaning and you’re more than welcome. You’d walk along the verandah and stop at the doorstep of the house before her’s. The door, in your defense, was wide open, loud music and feminine noise rushing out of it and Sugar will be seated inside directly facing the door, now smiling at the sight of you. You will walk in with your ever positive aura and say hi to everyone. Coincidentally, you know the owner of that house and she knows you too. Before it gets awkward, Sugar will say aloud, “Let’s go I put for you juice.” You assume that it is in a manner to get her visitor out of someone else’s house. But wait, juice? Juice doesn’t need an impromptu exit does it? You buy it anyway since she had never served you juice before. And neither would she serve you on that day.

Oh! Juice Me Baby, Juice Me!

You will hang behind a little to say your goodbyes to your mutual friend. You’ll proceed to the next door salivating over the anticipation of juice. The door has a curtain. You will draw the curtain and make an entry while amusingly ‘demanding’ the promised juice when a hand takes hold of yours and pulls you.

She will kiss you so passionately. For like two seconds, you’d be confused but you shake it off and lip service back just as passionately. One hand is on your face and both of yours are on her waist. The waist she now knows you admire because it’s shapely. You will have a minor break to catch your breaths and she’ll use it to adjust the curtain to avoid possible visual interruption from the outside. Within those few seconds to breathe, it will dawn on you that there was no juice, but you did get juiced real well.

And therefore when you call her Sugar, it’s because she is indeed sweet.

Choc-letting You

Now if she is that sweet, how much more if you add chocolate to the mix? If only the mjango who bought her expensive chocolates for Valentine’s knew that she ate them with you. Bless you mjango. Bless you.

The chocolates had small peanut balls in them. Your favourite type of chocolate after white chocolate. She was seated on your laps while you both treated yourselves to them. You love it when she sits there. At times she’d sit facing you directly. You don’t mention that you shared some chocolate balls. Without using hands and without open eyes. You just wish you could rewind.

Hey Sugar’s Friend

It was only a matter of time that her friends would eventually get to know you.

The last time she sat on your laps was when she was on her way to hang out with one particular friend. The sun had gone to sleep. The night was still an infant. The conception of the night happened when you were both seated with your hands wrapped around her back, delivering sweet nothings for her to choose whatever was worth something.

But First,

Wa Wa Wild Thoughts

She had her rider at the junction ready to go. You were headed to your brother’s that was along the way for work night. She boarded first. You’re not sure whether she did it intentionally. Neither do you want to know now because that nostalgia is priceless. She boarded but did not sit. Obliviously, you boarded and sat. Then?

She sat.

On the inner slopes of your laps.

Fitting perfectly like your thigh gap was meant for her abdomen.

You want to tell her how lovely you keep realizing she is. But the way you held her hand through the space of her elbow and lower rib said it better.

So now officially, Hey Sugar’s Friend

Her friend witnessed, not once, how seamless you two relate whenever you hang out. You bet the most vivid one to her friend would be the day you showed up and Sugar suddenly got a sugar rush. That’s how she found herself an extra pair of hands to help undo her hair. You didn’t mind and somehow, you cannot explain why. She sat on the floor as you sat on the table; assuming total salon mode. This time, she served you juice, the real juice that your good self knows.

One Man’s Treat Should Not Be Another Man’s Chocolate

You wish to have it go to record that you didn’t just take advantage of another man’s chocolates. You also bought her chocolates although unlike the other man, you stuck around to eat them with her. You listened to how happy she was while melting them in her mouth as she got a manicure and pedicure. She’s like a little girl whenever she’s having chocolates.

DRUNK In Sugar In A Nail BAR

Even you are amazed at yourself. At how you sat at a nail bar with her, filling up for the company she needed besides the chocolate of course. Your love for pretty feminine nails is not enough to really make you not mind sitting in a nail bar for that long. You were busy doing some work on your phone though she’d distract you from time to time to ask you to help her choose the colour of cutex to apply or pull a joke or borrow your share of chocolates. You could smell the happiness radiating from her and nothing was more important to you at the time.

It services my heart in a way no one else does – to just savour this sugar.

She loves it when you call her Sugar. Maybe she doesn’t know how much that name is fetched from the deep wells of her attributes. It’s not just a name that replaces the awkwardness that could probably arise from calling her by her actual name.

And you? You die and resurrect a little when she texts,

“Good morning Bbear.”

Yes, that’s who she calls you.

Anyway mjango, let’s just agree that all these is to say,

You’re in, but you’re out.

By the way black cutex. You adore her nails in black cutex more.