Chasing Shadows (Episode 1)

Dear Readers,

It's here. I present to you another short story from the stables of TyFaith (I guess I should go into professional acting... Lol), as promised.

I'm so excited about this new series, and I'm hoping you'll all love it as much as I already do. 

Thanks again, for your patience these past three months. I also need to thank everyone that literally disturbed me to get back on the blog (Cc: Ife Alonge and co.). I'm grateful, really.

I'll like to request that you keep the comments coming for each episode. Feedback from my readers goes a long way in not just encouraging me, but shaping the turn of events for the story (that's true...).

Enough of the long talk. Sit back, relax and enjoy 'CHASING SHADOWS'.... Faith.

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• This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the Faith’s imagination and (actual places) are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

                                                                                                            ... Faith Tunde-Yara

She folded the aso-ofi neatly. She then took out one of her branded bags with which she delivered the material to her clients, from the lot placed on the rug.

“I wonder what we use these ‘ipeles’ for after the wedding. I really think it’s a waste of material’ she mused to herself.

“What is ipele again?” He asked without raising his head from the automobile magazine before him.

“Haba, Siju. Are you not a Yoruba guy? Stop forming posh jor’ She hit him playfully with the bag containing the neatly folded aso-ofi, and kept at it till he dropped the magazine. 
He stood up from the chair to join her on the rug and then tickled her till tears formed in her eyes from too much laughter.

“Just answer the question, and stop being a typical Nigerian; answering a question with another question” he continued with the tickling.

“Pretend I’m an igbo client that wants one of my wedding outfits to be a Yoruba traditional outfit and I want to know what an Ipele is” he went on.

“Okay, Okay…” she started slowly, trying to catch her breath.

“An ipele is the bigger accompaniment to the headgear, which the bride hangs on her shoulders all through the engagement ceremony. Apart from hanging it on the shoulder, it is practically useless afterwards.” She began smiling at her fiancée who feigned seriousness, as he shifted his glasses to sit properly on his nose.

“Hmmnnn. That wasn’t so bad” he smiled back.

“So why is it a waste of material?” he went on with the questioning.

He was in the mood to disturb his beloved fiancée that hot Saturday afternoon. The power holding company had seized power as usual and the heat was unbearable. Putting on the generator would have been the best option but there was no fuel for the generator to run on. The neighbourhood was unusually quiet. Siju blamed it on the fuel scarcity as people were already used to the power outage, but had no fuel to run their generators, like himself.

“Siju, leave me oh.” She hurriedly packed the bags from the rug and began running towards the room. She knew what he was going to do next.

Siju ran after her to tickle her some more….

“Start getting used to this. You know kids of nowadays are very inquisitive, and our kids are coming soon” he said as he devotedly tickled her, and watched her roll on the bed from laughter.

The knock on the door interrupted their playful session.

“Please get the door” She pleaded. She was happy about the interruption, which she considered her saving grace from the next round of tears already forming in her eyes, caused by hectic laughter.

“Okay, okay. Don’t think you’ve escaped oh.” He winked at her as he made his way to the living room.

“Eje mi (my blood)”

“Eyan mi (my person)”

…. and loud laughter, was all she heard from the room.

She straightened her dress and hair as she got up from the bed to see who the visitor was. Siju had not said anything about expecting a visitor. With the greeting she just overheard, she figured the visitor must be really close to Siju. She remembered there was no prepared meal in the kitchen, neither was any pepper or ingredient for soup available in the fridge. The epileptic power supply had made it impossible to stock any food for long, and she was only going to the market later that afternoon. They had just finished the bean cake and pap she made for breakfast that morning. Besides, ‘where on earth was bean cake and pap offered to a visitor?’ She smiled at the thought.

Even though a part of her wanted to be crossed with Siju for his habit of not informing her of visitors before they arrived so that she could prepare ahead of time to host them properly, she smiled at how she had come to accept that as part of his weaknesses. She walked out of the room to meet the guys still laughing, but seated on the sofa. She noticed two small boxes placed by the side of the visitor, and her smile widened.

Siju adjusted his glasses as he watched his fiancée walk into the living room. He always did that whenever he wanted to make an announcement or feign seriousness.

The visitor stood up from his seat, with a smile hanging across his face, something she considered a hangover from whatever was making him laugh in the first place. He stretched out his hand towards her, but Siju cut in before he could introduce himself.

“Baby, meet Siju’s elder brother, the one I’ve been telling you about. Remember?” He smiled widely.

“Yes, I’m Supo. It’s nice to finally meet you. He has told me a lot about you” He shook her hand warmly before releasing his hold.

“Same here. It’s good to finally meet you too. Siju has told me a lot about you. I’m Folashade Bello” she responded with a warm smile.

“How was your trip?” she was about to start an interrogation on the elder brother her fiancé had supposedly told her a lot about.

“Baby, please get him glass of water before we bombard him with all the questions. He's had a long journey” Siju cut in.

“Okay dear. I’ll be right back.” She made her way to kitchen, without the plastered smile leaving her face. She was amused at her acting. This should be fun, she thought to herself.

***CHASING SHADOWS by Faith Tunde-Yara

***Photo credit:  magpiefields.bigcartel.com