Femi sat in his office chair reminiscing over the football match played yesterday.
The match had begun with Barcelona dominating about 70% of the ball possession in the first twenty minutes through their usual style of tiki-tika but each time they had tried to get into their opponent’s box, they had faced strong restriction from Madrid defender Sergio Ramos.
In the fortieth minute, Messi had caught a loose ball and raced into the opponents box after he had successfully dribbled Sergio, he had scored a goal giving Barca the upper hand.
Minutes later, Bale hit the woodwork, the match had ended in the first half with the scores reading 1-0.
During the second half, Madrid had made three changes, Isco had come in for Di maria, Morata came in for Benzema and Pepe had replaced Sergio Ramos.
The game had continued with both sides hitting the woodwork twice but Ronaldo had broken the dead luck after receiving a through pass from Isco, he had then dribbled the keeper and scored a goal.
Ten seconds to the end of the match, Ronaldo gave a right-footed strike which had hit the woodwork. The referee had then blown the final whistle signaling the end of the match which had ended in a draw.
He and Chuks had then left for their apartment when few guys at the viewing centre had ended up fighting over a bet they had.
He took out his phone and logged into facebook chat, he scrolled down to see if he could find a familiar name. He saw a name that caught his attention.
He chose to ignore it and kept on scrolling, there was nobody to chat with, he was about to close the app when his phone beeped.
Omoye stood and stared at her one-room apartment, her brain cells had not been able to profer a solution to her predicament.
The only offer that had been screaming in her head were two words, ‘Move out’.
Mrs Nkem Onyekwere packed her bags, she had woken up unusually late. Had she woken earlier, her husband Francis could have given her a ride to work.
She came out of her room, on getting to the hallway she saw Chuks coming out of the bathroom.
“Mum, good morning,” he greeted.
“Morning dear, how are you? And how was your interview yesterday,” she paused and continued almost immediately, “what time did your father leave?”
“Mummy, how many questions,” he laughed, “and later you’ll claim daddy talks too much.”
“Don’t mind me, I’m in a hurry and your father talks more than I do, you can testify to that.” She replied.
“Well I’m fine, interview was okay, I hope something good comes out of it, and daddy left say ermm, one hour thirty minutes ago. He said you complained of a slight headache yesterday and as such he didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”
Nkem flushed, “that’s sweet of him, and don’t worry about a job, God has big plans for my baby, did your father get to eat? She asked with a concerned look.
“Yes, Princess made breakfast.”
“Where is she?”
“In the sitting room.”
“Ok, take care. I’ll see you when I get back.” She got to the sitting room and saw a food flask placed on the dinning table.
“My baby, does this happen to be mine?”
Princess stood and ran to her mum while giving her a hug, she had missed her. When her mother got back yesterday she had been asleep and her mum had woken late this morning so they had not seen each other.
“Mummy, good morning.” she smiled.
“How are you?” Nkem pulled out of the embrace and gave her daughter a thorough look, “you’ve grown bigger, hmmm look at your curves.”
Princess gave her mum a ‘don’t start’ look. Nkem however continued, “why don’t you switch back to wearing dresses?” she touched Princess bossoms playfully, “ifu la? Ibu kwa nwanyi oooo (you see? You’re a woman oooo), why are you hiding all these?”
Princess sighed, she did not want the discussion to proceed any further. She took the flask and passed it to her mum, “here, if you keep talking, you are going to run late.”
“Like I’m not already late, uhn?” Nkem collected the flask and kept it in one of the bags she held. “Take care of the house, and thanks for making breakfast.”
With that she left, Princess went back to the settee to continue the movie she had been watching, it was getting boring already.
“Won’t you give me my phone?” she turned to see Chuks approaching her bare-chested.
*to be continued*