Last updated on October 22nd, 2025 at 11:56 am
As soon as I got Angela’s consent, I got to work; I booked a flight, reserved a hotel room, then hit up some friends—who thankfully I’d recently been reaching out to more often—to see if they wouldn’t mind a shoot date for Saturday afternoon. Angie owned the rest of my weekend. After arranging everything, I continued working until later in the evening.
It’s Thursday morning and I haven’t been able to do any work. I’m not anxious about seeing Angie, but I really want to make a good impression. I’m in good form, but I need her to find me irresistible. I probably sound vain, and it’s not as if she’s never seen me, but not in the past six years. I look in the mirror and decide that I should go to the barbershop to have my hair cut rather than doing it myself, per usual. Then there’s the issue of what to wear. I don’t return until Monday morning, which means that Angie and I have a lot of time to spend together. I have a lot of dates planned in some really nice restaurants, so I need more outfits.
I scratch a spot on my head and open my wardrobe. After pulling out some of my best outfits, and I’m still unsure, I call Hassan.
“Yes? How can I help you?” He answers wittily.
“Bro, are you up for a video call? I need help.”
“Sure.” We switch to a video call.
“So, there’s a woman,” I say, looking at his face, hoping he gets that this is an emergency call. ”And I’m going to Abuja to see her tomorrow.” I add when he says nothing. He’s still quiet, although I can see that he’s struggling to keep a straight face. “Hassan, are you going to talk or stare at me like a frame?”
“I knew there was someone! I just knew it. Guy, see as you dey shake. Is she aware that she already has your mumu button? I hope she is.”
“Are you done?” I ask which is ironic considering that I prompted him to talk when he was quiet.
“Done? Naa. But for now, let’s face business. What do you need me for?”
“Outfits, bro. What to wear. You know how it goes.” Hassan’s toxic trait is fashion. I don’t know if that sums it up properly; think grooming, pedicure, facials, constant wardrobe upgrade, all these costly things. Well, maybe it’s not a toxic trait, but Hassan wouldn’t leave his house without looking good. He is someone I can trust with this.
“Okay, think soft colours, what do you have? What places are you visiting together? Hey, shouldn’t you get her a little gift?”
An hour or so later, I’m feeling confident with the outfits I have packed. I grab some shoes and add them to the box, then set out to go get her a gift.
I ended up getting her a little cute purse in mauve. I considered that it was sort of neutral enough to be paired with other colours. I’ve been back home for a while and I’m still feeling good from the hours spent driving around Calabar in search of something for my woman. My woman. It sounds beautiful in my head. For the first time in almost ever, I’m devoting part of my time to search for something that may please another person. And it feels good.
Not that I know much about women’s style, but I think anyone can easily spot something good. Within about three hours of searching, I spotted it. Now, I can only hope that she truly likes it and not just my effort. I mentally cross-check my list and, seeing that there’s nothing else to do, I resume work.
