DIMGA’S PLACE ( II)

“Are you U go mm a ?” he asked point in gather bracelets. “No,Ugb om ma ,” she said and took a spoonful of her fish peppersoup.

“Ugb om ma, that’ s a beautiful name .” And she smiled, the kind of smile that told him that she had heard that so many times before .“I' m sorry if that sounded a little clichéd ,” he said as he sipped more wine. “It was terribly clichéd .” “But your name is beautiful ,” he repeated. “Thank you ,” and she chewed the fish. The wait er came and handed E bu be the spoon. He rinsed his oily hand and took a spoonful of the steaming soup .“Don’ t just take the soup, take the fish too .”

He obeyed, and as he che wed the fish, she watched him keen ly, expecting him to maybe have an epiphany of sorts. He did enjoy it, the way the fish melted in his mouth, the taste that he could not compare with anything else he had ever eaten, he nodded ,“This is so good .”

She smiled, fulfilled .“It old you so” she said as she finished her glass of wine and poured another. E bu be took another piece of his N kw obi.

“So, it' s your birthday, eh ?” she said a few minutes later. “Whyareyouhere?” “Where?” “Here and not at a party or perhaps them all .” “Them all is such a pedestrian thing to do on ones birthday ,” he said, dismissively. She smiled and put her spoon back on the plate then kept her head on her hand. “Really?” “Everybody does that, goto them all on their birthday, roam around the shops, buy cake and maybe ice cream, take a gazillions elfie sand flood Facebook with the photos.” “H mm ,” she nodded slowly “Don’ t get me wrong ,” he said“I love them all, I go when I can, mainly to the cinema or to Cold stone, the ice cream is to die for. But togo on my birthday, like there is something special about malls, is not something I want to do .” “So,youarehere.” “Yes ,” he said and poured himself another cup of palm wine, only to find out that he had finished the bottle. He became disappointed, he wanted another one .“As for the party, I am sure there is one waiting form eat home, my roommate is trying to surprise me. Discretion is not really hisstrongsuit.” Shechuckled. “So you' re a student ,” she said “Iam,atUmudike.” The wait er came again with a large mortar containing a goat head soaked in oil like the N kw obi and garnished with onion rings and vegetables. “Can I have another bottle of pal my, please” “Metoo,”Ugb om ma said, the wait er nodded and left. It was already dark now, night had crept upon them. The compound was now lit by coloured bulbs on the trees, there was agree nbul bin the tree just b eh indUgb om ma and E bu be marvel led at how beautiful she looked, even in green light. Fe la' s IT T saxophone solo filled the night air, a couple danced close by. “What are you studying there ?” she asked “Mechanical engineering .” “Really ?” she asked, shed rank her last glass of wine. “I was expecting you to mention an art discipline, that is exactly how you sound .” “You don’ t look like one to stereo type .” “Iknow,right.” “Well, I write too ,” he said as he picked the last piece of meat from the mortar. “That’ s awesome, what do you write ?” “For now, short stories, spoken word .” “About?” “Africa.” “Huh?” “I have a burden, I feel that every young African should know, that Africa is moving forward. That our place is not in there ar, that it is time we stop running away and wear Africa proudly, that it is time we stop con forming and be who we are supposed to be, else we might be left behind, because the change is inevitable. So it isa sub plot or the main plot in many of my stories, Africa ”. He dumped the last bone in the N kw obi mortar and faced the goat head.

“That is just beautiful ,” she said, here yes expressing just how mu china we she was. “I must read something of yours .” “Ihaveablog.” “Great, send me the link on Whats A pp ,” she pushed her phone to him .“Type in your number ,” he smiled when he saw her Game of thrones wallpaper. He typed with his free left hand and pushed the phone back to her.

The wait er came back with their bottles of palm wine and left after placing them on the table. E bu be' s phone vibrated in his pocket. “That’ s me ca ll ing,”Ugb om masai da she reached into his pockets .“Save my number .” “What do you do ?” he asked after saving her number. “Ia ma student, computer science at I fe ,” she answered. “Ia man artist also, I paint .” “Nice” “Let me show you some of my work ,” she took her phone and opened its photo gallery, then showed him a picture of the painting. It was a painting of a road, a busy road, with cars and buses littered all over and people strugglingtogetacross.Itwaschaotic,beautifulchaos.In the background was the large façadeo fa building, on the top were three letters REX.

“I know this place, it is A ba, it is Park, A ba .” “Yesitis.” “This is so beautiful, so realistic, I feel like I can touch the maninredshirt.” “This painting is on display at the National Art Gallery .” “Wow that is awesome, congrats .” “Thank you ,” she said .“What rules your mind, your machines or your stories ?” she asked later.

“Africa, how I can contribute to her greatness, be it by my stories or my machines ,” he replied .“And you, computers or thecanvass?”

“Computers, they are such intricate beings, there is so much sophistication to them in the way that can be so small and yet so big at the same time. They en th r al me. The canvas comes second, a close second .”

E bu be nodded and to re flesh away from the goat head an date, it was divine–the goat meat fl av our, different from that of any other meat, coated in the spicy oil goo.

“This is better than then kw obi, even better than your point-and-kill,”hesaid.

She chuck led and pushed away the now empty fish pepper soup plate and to rea piece from the goat head and ate .“It is very good, almost as good as the fish ,” she said as she chewed .“You know that they boil the brain, then ma sh it and mix it with the oil paste, it adds to the unique taste .”

The long intro of Fe la’ s IT T was playing as they ate the goat head until there was nothing left. They drank and talked and talked, about books, movies, Game of Thrones, school, aspirations after school and the future.

“You know O lanna is premiering this weekend ,” E bu be mentioned.

“Yes, Gene vi ev eN najiandNwoko ye, my two best actresses. The trailer almost brought me to tears .” “Kun le Afo lay an can not disappoint .” “Verytrue.” “You want togo see it with me ?” E bu be ventured ,“On Friday.” She smiled ,“Of course .” E bu be smiled too, his heart returned to its normal beating pace, he hadn’ t real is edit was racing.

“What’ s it with the F el a songs ?” E bu be asked a moment laterasITTended.

“Dim ga is obsessed with very old songs” she said laughing“he claims that it adds character to his establishment. “Itdoesthough.” As if Dim ga had hear dE bu be' s question, another song filled the night, this time On yeka On we nu' s I yo go go. Ugb om ma laughed loud ly as the afro beats rose into the air .“I love this song ,” she said, dancing in her seat.

“Do you want to dance ?” E bu be asked. He didn’ t know when the question left his mouth, the palm wine had pushed then out. She nodded and he stood and stretched out his hand to her, she took it and they walked to the middle of the compound. They danced and danced and danced, till their feet ached and they were lost in the sounds of their laughter.

E bu be did not hear Dim ga' s gate being rude ly pushed open, his ears were filled withUgb om ma' s laughter as he unsuccessful ly tried to sing along with Sir Victor U waif o' s Jo romi.H eh ad his hands on her tiny waist as they danced to the song,Ugb om ma twisting her waist this way and that. He let out a shriek as a blow landed on his shoulder and he immediately turned to see where the blow had comefrom.

“Take your hands off my daughter, os i so ,” a heavy set woman standing before him barked. E bu be, saw the resemblance even in the dim lights, the short nose and the dark eyes. Only that this woman’ s eyes looked tired, like the many stories they had to tell weighed them down. E bu be removed his hands immediately fromUgb om ma' s waist as the woman raised her hand to hit him again. She looked like ar aging bull wrapped in many layers of cloth. She wore along skirt that would have been sweeping the ground if she hadn’ t pulled it up to her stomach, an unflattering shirt that seemed to want to bury he rand ahead scarf that swallowed her hair, ears and most of her face. E bu be decided she was coming from church.

“Mum my, goo dev en ing,”Ugb om ma greeted as if she did not see the rage that burned in her mother’ s eyes.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’ t you come to prayers, eh ?” the woman bell owed

“We were in church yesterday, and the day before, and the one before that,”Ugb om ma said looking around, carefully avoiding her mother’ s gaze, then adding under her breaths otha therm other won’ t hear“if Jesus wanted us to live in his house, he would have said so”

“Eh ?” her mother asked“What did you say?”Ugb om ma didn’ t say answer ,“instead of coming to church, you are here frolicking with some boy .” She threw E bub ea dirty look, then grabbed her daughter’ s wrist“O yale t’ s go home ,” she dragged her“you always feel like you know so much, stupidgirl”

“See you F rid ay,”Ugb om ma said to E bu be as she allowed her mother drag her away. E bu be stood trans fixed as he watched her being pulled away and he missed her immediately .“And what is this you are wearing ?” he heard hermotherask

“It is very hot, mum, I would melt if I was to dress like you ...” she said and her voice faded into the night. Ebube discovered then that Sir Victor U waif o' s Jo romiw as still playing, albeit coming to an end, that only a few people had taken notice of the little scene that had just played out, that he had found that little scene very amusing, that he was still smiling, that he would always comeback here to Dim ga' s place, to eat N kw o bi, isie wu and even point-and-kill and drink Palm wine and that Ugb om mawouldn ever leave his thoughts.