It is the beginning of my third year streak in the university, studying under the course of dentistry which takes me back to the time I had finally gained admission.

Which beforehand during that whole period I had cried my eyes out and lamented in pain to God to just get this so called admission, fully aware it was ninety percent my fault. My mum did the job of reminding me countless times of how unserious I was prior to my jamb and waec examinations.

And I sit, wondering what happened to that little girl who always came out first in her class.

Well, cramming a night to the day of the exam didn't help as much when you advance from the primary level of education to the secondary one.

It took me quite some time to know  and accept that. It's not like I was average, like my mum mistakenly said during one of her yelling pep talks. It was fear and the dire need to give my mum what to boast with since she's a sworn advocate of reading and passing without help of any sorts asides praying.

The amount of times she has boasted I bet you if you were in my shoes would make you do drastic things which at the end you'll question yourself about, but well, if mummy is happy so is everybody.

The uber driver assisted me with bringing my luggage in right after I've fished out the football club key holder holding my room keys together.

As always I'm the first to resume, my roommates Ife and Nadia who I spoke to the other day said they wouldn't be resuming soon.

Ife perhaps would resume a week later and Nadia anytime her footsteps bless our front door we'll give thanks to the heavens, they were both medical students a whole different breed of such.

Handing him his money I offer him a thank you when he acknowledged with a beardy smile and a light wave before he got back into his taxi and took his leave.

Locking the door, the cold silence greets me laughing at my decision to resume earlier in other words escape from my household, having lingering chores and a never ending chain of name calling which could lead to mental instability if I am not careful.

The first thought is to phone my mum and tell her I arrived safely to my lodge but there's something else at the back of my mind asides prayers of course— the need to dive into that new book I saw from a zinsta reel and downloaded from a not so legal website.

You can't blame me I'll work with what I have, books nowadays would not only make a dent to my account but also make me go bankrupt, I have my savings to keep intact and other necessities to be on the look out for, buying physical books right now isn't at the top of my list.

I'll stick to PDF's and borrowing my mum's, she can't even see without her glasses and is too stubborn to admit it, sometimes I wonder if she's just a teenage girl stuck in a middle aged woman's body.

Taking out the plastic chair from under the table, I use the old clothe turned rag to rid its surface of dust and plant myself on it, sitting I begin with the sign of the cross and finish with an amen.

Praying has grown to be my routine ever since I decided to quit living and instead live for Christ.

It wasn't easy and hasn't been but there's nothing too big or even too small, for God to do.

Looking around the medium sized space fit for three foot beds, an accommodative wardrobe, built in kitchen and bathroom, I let out a tired sigh not from the drive here but the cleaning I have to do.

Another year my father tries to persuade me to move into one of the school's provided hostels, the memory now becoming a part of me, so is my father's mantra whenever my mum asked him for money— i no get.

Sometimes seeing the both of them heightens that pull to join sisterhood and be celibate for the rest of my stay on earth.

It's not like my dad doesn't try his best I admit it isn't easy to work on the other side of the globe and return once in two years and spend two months at least with your family, because of the nature of work he has and the distance.

I'm so used to it now that whenever he is around I count the days he has left to go back to where he's coming from which basically shows how unsatisfied human beings can be.

I even wail out all night praying for him to go back even if it's the next day to avoid hearing his and my mum's unwarranted quarrels that are most times birthed from my dad's misunderstanding and mum's inability to relay a message without raising her voice.

Their arguments are something endless and in the end I have no one to side with but to put all the blame on the two of them.

And come to the conclusion that marriage shouldn't be for everyone, that I am part of that fraction of people.

When I was little I admired brides walking down the aisle in princess-like dresses hand in hand with their fathers, to meet the grooms who seem like princes with their own secret carriages, nevertheless all the weddings I attended a total of nine and the ones to come.

The grooms weren't the ten over ten like the ones I've read in books, aside from the fact that it's fictitious, they didn't sell out for me, but I guess their brides still cherished them.

Abandoning the chair I prepare a plan in my subconsciousness to finish the cleaning within minutes even if it will eat up an hour or more, starting with my corner of the room, I lay the sheets and dress my bed to perfection, just the way I love it.

I arrange my shelf and keep my box and ghana must go bags in place, taking out my foodstuff I'm tempted to check what the time says and maybe just give my mum a call.

After a little self battle and inner debate, I do neither and go straight to the PDF app and begin reading, it's a paranormal dark academia romance novel.

Not my usual take but as long as there's romance count me in, I try not to delve into books with spice, I remember how obsessed I was with them when I was little yet now there is this gratification I get from reading books where the characters hold hands at the two hundred and thirty something page and blush into oblivion.

Twenty minutes passes by and I stare at my disorganised room, met with sheer silence I cuddle further on my neatly arranged bed and continuing reading setting a landmark on the next five pages with this phrase, after this five pages, I'll go back to cleaning

Well after five hours and a knock springing me back into the reality of how time had gone by like a breeze, I give off an irritated sigh, why does reading have to be so enticing.

You're like okay I'll give this book a try the next thing you'll want to find out if the female character will end up killing her love interest or not because he is the enemy and you realise you have other things to do and reading has to come later.

Grabbing my hair band, I keep my tight curls in a makeshift bun and slip my feet into my dunlops, twisting the keys in the hole I pull the door open, "good evening Kesi, how are you?" A smile graces my features on seeing Amir, the warm evening sun rests upon his angled face and brings out his light caramel skin tone.

He has his usual buzz cut on, beards spring out from his chin adding to  that manly physique and a grey sweatshirt covering the band of his black shorts reaching his knees, "evening to you too, when did you get back?" He reciprocates my toothy grin with a tug to his lips, "two days back, I see you're the only one who has returned?" I nod, trusting that with that little piece of information there's no need to be weary of him.

We've lived in this estate for four years, counting from our jamb lessons days up until now, he was a nursing student and an artist by heart, he is also one of the few persons that introduced me to an online money making site that has really come a long way.

In shorter terms he is who I'll proudly call a friend.

"I'll come get you by 7 then let's stroll to Dante's for Shawarma,"  he adds with a wink, his voice giving of that playful tone I would never forget, agreeing, I let him know I have to finish up with cleaning first and he says he'll send me a text to let me know when he is all set.

Once he's out and I'm back inside, alone, I phone my mum, within two minutes she finishes with our usual goodnight and reminders for me to pray and call my dad as well.

Going back to cleaning, I put all my foodstuffs where there meant to be, tidy up the kitchen, scrub the bathroom and reward myself with a hot water bath that works it's way into my joints and frees my muscles, smearing light lotion on my skin, I put on comfy clothes fit for a stroll and spritz some perfume on.

At least if someone with body odour passes me my own cologne will overtake it, sometimes I feel these people don't have conscience but it's not my place to say and it's certainly not any of my business.

Instead of waiting for Amir to come and look for me again, I take the liberty to head over to his room and meet him myself, else if I should go back to reading that novel, my leg won't smell outside, talk more of taking a stroll.

Luckily for him and not me, he is already making his way to my room, with a few of our neighbours who are also students, I wave the few I'm conversant with and wish the others a nice evening.

Side by side with Amir I'm thankful to my father for at least passing down his height to me, even if the boy beside me is taller there's no way you can refer to me as short, not even my younger brother who's five foot eight and is till in ss1. He just began to sprout.

Exiting the gates of the estate we lived in which was occupied by most students, the night sky covered the whole atmosphere as the moon's light glows through it, the wind kisses the skin on my feet, few persons sat by the kerbs, conversing.

Passers-by walk hand in hand, in groups of four or two, like Amir and I, once we reached the main road area, night buses, taxis and private cars zoomed on the streets, the restaurant doors vomited out people with leathered bags in there hands.

The blaring of horns, loud chatter and different scents of food, pleasant and unpleasant wafted through my nostrils, so did the familiar stench from dirt thrown on the road median.

"Do you want Dante's or something else?" Amir asked through the cacophony once we've reached a free spot, taking a glance around my mind wanders off to different options, ice cream, grilled chicken or better take out.

Yet, I know it's not my place to misuse this opportunity and since he is offering I'll take what we initially came here for — sharwarma and get him, Sir Ali's suya which is the most spicy one around.

His stand is just beside Dante's so it won't be a hassle, tightening my grip on my phone for safety measures, I place a single ear pod in my ear without having any music on, "just Sharwarma Amir I need to go back to my book" a cheeky grin erupts from his thin lips, "you've come back o you and this your books" he taunts before he takes out his wallet.

I shrug my shoulders, and he leans in, "let me go and withdraw, just wait for me" waving Dante, a friendly smile emanates from him as he places freshly air fried wraps in a customised leather bag.

Sitting on the high bench, I scroll through my recent screenshots of book edits, to while away time but not to distract me, two people settle on the same bench I'm on and I don't bother to look up until the cold liquid spills all over my shorts, "shit! I am so sorry" the culprit maunders, grabbing his drink and capping it properly.

He doesn't see the death glare I'm giving him which dissolves when Dante admonishes him for leaving the drink unattended to, why was Amir wasting time sef.

"Dante it's okay, Na jus drink" I cover up my sour mood, na lie o this nicka wey I like well well now now e don stain, who be dis one sef.

His friend apologizes on his behalf as he goes over to talk to Dante offering to pay for whatever I was buying, " it's okay, it's just a drink you don't need to pay" he remains relentless and then I notice first how he stands at almost Amir's height.

Skin tone a bit lighter than ours but had this glimmer to it from the moonlight, i almost laughed, because the little voice in my head spoke like one of those narrators in those historical romance books. He was truly eye-catching, and his outward appearance screamed neat freak, the type you'll think has OCD.

But the outward appearance doesn't matter, it's what is on the inside, —my mum begs to differ— don't even argue with my mum on this issue.

The gentleman before me who is also the reason why I'll have a second bath, would surely be the type my mum will tell you to go for aside his wide flat nose.

My mumsi sha get wahala.

"I'm very sorry for ruining your shorts" he pleads again, assuming his former position, he was seriously making a big issue out of nothing.

"See, —" remembering I don't know his name, I continue, "it's okay, it would easily wash off" "Airen" he fills in, from the look he gave he was genuinely sorry but why didn't he just drop it.

He was becoming annoying, "I'm Airen" he repeats then I understand that he just told me his name, I couldn't help but chuckle, "why are you telling me your name?" he sets the bottle on the other side of the bench.

So it's now you know you'll shift your drink eh fine boy.

"Cause I want to know yours?" He says so smoothly and I have to chain down the lies brewing in my head, choosing a fake name never seemed so hard up on until now it's either I went with blessing or Favor, when all these strangers would be doing fine girl tell me your name Na, yet I surprisingly spat out my given name, setting aside the repercussions.

He may be a ritualist or a kidnapper, then I'll have to intensify my midnight praying then, "I am Kesiena, you can call me Kesi" "so mind giving me your account details, let me—"

Now he was really pushing my buttons, "it's fine" using a harsher tone, on instinct my eyes wonders to Dante's who asked me if he is of any bother but I wave him off, "then can I get your number then" this time I let out a silent laugh, this man right here puts the word resilient to shame.

He clearly ignores my monotonous look with an eye blinding smile which further pushes my buttons, "your phone" he hands me his gadget as I input my number and save my name, ringing my phone, I save his.

Amir comes from behind me, his voice a notch louder to hype Dante who doesn't seem phased by his attitude, "ah ah, Wetin do your cloth?" He points at the map drawn on my shorts, filling the seat Airen and his friend got up from, he hands me a drink.

The same type that spilled on my shorts minutes ago

But who am I to refuse, "nothing o pesin just pour their drink by mistake o" I sigh loudly, displeasure oozing out from the sound, he apologizes in Airen's stead and goes on to tell me why he wasted so much time to withdraw.

"I stand there price that woman, shuu Na me she wan collect that kin money from " he retells the tale of his argument with the POS lady he chose to withdraw from, knowing Amir he paid her the amount he was familiar with and not the one she called.

Dante grabs his attention while my phone grabs mine, the stranger's name on my contact made me wonder where he was from, Airen, I've never heard such, what might be the meaning.

Giving out a breathe, I let my tongue trail the skin of my lips, looking up, there he stood already holding my gaze, monolid eyes boring into my round ones, like he was testing out a theory I wasn't aware of.

I was so close to giving him the stink eye until he removed his eyes first and went his way.

This Shawarma better sweet o after everything that happened if not I'll not be happy at all.