I dreamt I was reading in his house, I opened his wardrobe and I saw a lady’s shoe. He came in not long and I knew she was the one on phone. I was green with envy. I woke up, this is harder than I thought, I can’t get over three years of affection in three days.

It was 3 am, and I decided to work on some Cowries but my mind was erratic.

What was I doing in his house?

The house I saw in my dream was disparate from what I envisaged his house would bear resemblance to. Since he deliberately impedes me from knowing his house. I felt maybe he was abashed of it, maybe he was cohabiting with some friends. I had no plans of being a liability to him, I don’t care if he lives in a hole, I just want to be loved by him.
I remember he said he lived in Lawanson, I wanted to relocate to Lawanson so I can get close to him, but the idea sounded creepy to me, it sounded like an obsession to me. I also imagined some cataclysm will befall me if I went, so I aborted the pursuit.

But why was I reading his book in his room?

I wasn’t even thinking about him before I slept, I had seen a movie till I became dizzy, I bet he was in my subconsciousness.
I dropped the Cowry I was working on, I knew destroying the artwork I made for him isn’t enough, I have to eliminate his book. Every other book I have sleeps on my table, his sleep under my pillow. I bet the other books were green with envy, especially the ones I had from secondary school.

My hands quivered as I made for the pillow, my eyes began to rain and I stopped. What should I do to the book? Burn? Tear and trash? Soak in water? I had to not only respect that it belonged to a man I love, but it is also a work of art, and it must be treated accordingly. I gave it to a beggar with a 200 note while I took my son out for children’s day.
At the zoo, while he played with other children, every story in Fine writer’s book played in my head, they plagued me like leprosy. I know all the stories and the pages in which each word was written. I fucked myself up, I knew it and I will make restitution.

Your brother has high energy.

My brother? He is my son.

Are you joking?

No, I am not.

He is only a few inches from your neck and your stomach is flat, how did you?…

We burst into laughter.

That’s my girl, joy.

Where is her mum?

She died in childbirth


It’s fine, that’s years ago, where is your husband?

He is at work.

Soon, we were eating and cracking jokes.

Your husband is a lucky man, you are too funny a woman.

He thinks I talk too much.

Ahh... That is what we all say, he enjoys your company, trust me.

What do you do?

I am the founder of … pharmaceuticals. What about you?

I am the founder of Oreofe’s Cowries.

His pharmacy is one of the biggest in Ibadan, I go there often. Soon it was 4 pm and I ordered my ride.

Please give me your number, I must see you again.

I don’t think that is a good idea, my husband...

Stop it, I know a single parent when I see one, I am one too.

Casted, I smiled.

If I see you again, I will give you my number.

I entered my ride as I waved his daughter bye.

I will find you

He waved back.




I don't cry, I bleed on papers. I don't care about writing it well, I care about healing well. I don't care about applause, I care about my mental health.

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Oreofe Oguntola

Oreofe Oguntola

I don't cry, I bleed on papers. I don't care about writing it well, I care about healing well. I don't care about applause, I care about my mental health.

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