Chapter 1

I wasn’t paying a penny. It was the skill I learned when I was following my boss around. He happened to be a photographer, and I would help him whenever the work in his hand is becoming unbearable. Education is bullshit. He knew. And I know. And he also knew that I know. So we’d both sit down in the students hall and listened to the lectures together. We graduated, but with no certificate, which I always felt secure about, a lecture someone’s daughter and someone’s son paid a fortune to learned, and we also learned it on full mode free of charge personally made and created scholarship.

And it was the reason I am here today. Inside the most gigantic university in town. Ogbomoso Technological University.

Girls are swarming everywhere. Very beautiful girls. I glanced at them all and I was looking a little bit longer at some. Then I saw the lady coming. I met her at a wedding celebration last two weeks. She said her name is Oluwasikemi. She’s very slim. Very flat stomach. But she had the best chest. So pompous. I smiled at her.

“Fighter,” she said. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

She gave me a side hug. I looked at her head to toe. Perfect, I thought. Maybe I should give her pregnant.

“You should stop calling me Fighter okay?” I said. “Not many people know me with that name.”

She giggled. “I know. But I love calling you exactly that.”

“It’s okay then.”

When we met last two weeks I told her about my music career. I told her I had been a musician. A rapper. I told her I have up to seventeen single tracks. Then I said several tracks. And I told her my stage name is Nigerian Fighter. She was amazed. But I only have up to seven single track in reality.

She hold my hand while showing me around. But this is my hometown. I know most of the places she’s pointing and describing. I was just smiling and enjoying the show and the benefits. A woman that truly gave a fuck about you will do anything subconsciously to satisfy your beautiful get-together experiences. So far those experiences are also contributing to her happiness.

“Are you hungry?” she asked me.

I wasn’t sure. After training and exercising this afternoon I ate bread and beans.

I shook my head.

“Not sure,” I said.

She laughed. “You enh. Can someone be hungry and not know?”

“You get the point actually. It mean I am not hungry. If I am you don’t even need to ask me.”

She laughed more. It made me like her. I felt like squeezing her two rabbits.

She hold my hand all the way. And led me inside a restaurant. Ore-Ofe Canteen. I wonder if there’s anything inherently different between restaurant and canteen. Or was the English making an ass out of everyone.

I pointed to a table far ahead at the corner. A table for two. The rest of the table are all table for four. She shook her head and pointed to a nearby table.

“That table is for the owner,” she said. “Let’s stay here.”

I shrugged. Everywhere with their own shitty corporation rules. We sat down and she stood up again and mime I’m coming together with hand gesture and varnished. She reappeared far away later right in front of the available food and snacks and meat and eggs and whatever else they’re selling. She smiled at me. Her body is now tinier, because she’s far ahead, but her chest was still busty. I smiled back. But a voice broke my line of appraisal for her.

“You are Mr. Lasisi right,” the voice said. It sounded a little bit eager. But not a Yoruba accent. More like Igbo or Calabar. I looked at the owner of the voice.

She was a lady. Somehow elegant. I didn’t answer directly.

“Depends on who is asking,” I said.

She smiled. “Better safer than sorry, right? I am Happiness, the girl you helped at Amphitheater when you came with your photographer boss.”

I didn’t remember. That day was a living hell. The who hall was congested. Celebration was going on. Girls were smiling. People were graduating. And I was collecting phone numbers. The idea was to be able to transfer the pictures to their respective numbers through WhatsApp.

“It’s possible I don’t remember. You wouldn’t take that to heart right?” I said.

She smiled. “Not at all, sir.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what else to say. And it was getting awkward.

“Can I… take a seat, sir?” the girl calling herself Happiness said.

“I don’t mind. But look far ahead,” I pointed at Oluwasikemi. “That’s my girlfriend up there, she’s getting our food.”

There was disappointment in her face. But I couldn’t care less. Just because you are Happiness does not mean I’m going to feel happy seeing you. Or I have to?

She stood there for some seconds. When she noticed I wasn’t going to say anything she decided to leave. Thank goodness, I thought. But this one is also dope though. I glanced at her hips, very well built and look after. I brushed the thought aside. My mind is always causing trouble for me.

“What about your business card, sir?” she said.

I felt like she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. So I called my WhatsApp number for her.

“I don’t use business cards. So annoying to take around.” I grinned.

She nodded and smiled, blushingly.

This idiot? Blushing? I pretended I didn’t see her. And I saw Oluwasikemi coming back, some kinds of weird combination of food on her tray.

“I will text you some time sir,” the girl bearing Happiness said. “Enjoy your day with your girlfriend.” But secretly she glared in her direction. And in a tiny second I saw Oluwasikemi glaring back at her. But both of them maintained their standards.

I nodded to the girl and she left. My busty chest girlfriend placed the food on the table and sat down. I stood up and drag the two empty chairs out of our table. Oluwasikemi laughed. I didn’t want another Happiness to appear out of nowhere and start causing sorrow at my table.