“Wetin be Buju?” Jamo yelled,

“You no sabi wetin you dey talk, you no dey hear sounds.” Marvin replied. It was just some minutes passed eight and your two friends were at it again. An argument about Buju and Ruger was the African magic Yoruba without subscription that you always got to see. It was that time of the year, Afrobeat kings Buju had and Ruger had both dropped Eps’ and as usual fans got together to debate, which was better.  

Then you saw her text.

“Can we talk?”

You had expected the call the day after she broke it off, eight months of dating, and your longest relationship. As you reached Akanni’s park, the scent of Biggie’s Kitchen, reminds you of how you first met her. You had just moved into the neighborhood, but because of how you hated to cook, you tried eating outside, then you saw her. She had come to take your order, but you couldn’t stop staring, at how her smile turned your bad day at the office into a sweet one. So it became your ritual, every Friday, but today you had brought your MacBook to the restaurant, not uncommon, because you needed light and Biggie’s kitchen was open, just with lesser customers, you continued work. “It’s really good” you jerked at the bar girl who now stood behind you.

“You think so?” you replied,

“Yeah, it is well written, and I love the way you invoke raw emotions from your audience.” She said, 

“For how long have you been here?” You asked, 

“Check your time.” She replied. You scratched your head, as you realized you’re the reason, she’s still here. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here, till this time.” You both began talking, and she listens to your boring review of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. As you begin to pack your stuffs, she says something, the words followed the wind so you don’t hear her clearly, “And who says the night has to end?” You try to process her words, all to no avail,

“What would you like to do?” you asked, suddenly realizing that you two are the only ones at the restaurant.

You find her pinky in her lips as she speaks, “Can we get out of here?” then you noticed it all, the gaps in her cleavage and how succulent her boobies looked, then it hits you, your conscience, but you didn’t care, not now, not eight months later. You found yourself in her place eight minutes later, she was searching for which key it was as you tried to hold your praqas from tearing whatever remained of your pants, and then you remembered Jamo’s advice as she offered you a sit in her apartment. 

It was the best sex of your life.

“I haven’t done it before.” The night had begun with those words “Let me go get a drink.” Diane said, you watched her trip and fall into you, your lips instinctively went for hers, then gbam, you jammed into hers slowly, ignoring her silent moans, yin and yang she undressed you, you took off ,whatever gown she had on, you felt her grip on your praqas as she stroked it gently, your heavy breathing and moans shook the room, but the look in her eyes, told you she wanted more than your idiotic moans, so you give it to her, just like you had seen in the movies. 

“I just want sex.” Diane’s words stung, as you heard them, who doesn’t want love? The words that went through your mind, as you had asked her out, at the beginning the late night sex were the best, so you didn’t guard your heart when you fell hopelessly in love for a sex addict.

“I really like you Akin, but let’s just stay the way we are.” Diane had said, but were persistent, sweet talking Diane at any chance and gifts, yes you sent a lot of those and maybe because of whatever she felt for you, she agreed.

Then you had your first fight, few weeks after she moved in, the signal of many to come. His name was Simbi, one of Biggie’s biggest customers, you had caught Diane twerking for him at the lounge just outside the bar. You didn’t go home that night, and neither did Simbi. It took a few kisses and rubbing of your praqas for you to forgive Diane, she knew your weakpoint and you hated it. But it didn’t work when you caught her in bed with Jamo your best friend, you broke up, Jamo had claimed that he was high on drugs so you forgave. Diane came the next day with her usual tactics, you couldn’t hold it in anymore so for the first time, you said your mind.

“Stop.” You held your breath as you pushed her hands away, “What’s wrong?” She asked “I thought I apologized.” Diane said, “You need help Diane.” You said, taking a towel to cover your naked body, “You don’t know me.” She said quietly

“I know enough.” You replied instantly, “Only child born into a traumatic childhood, check. Parents didn’t have time for you, check, so your housemaid or family probably turned you into thing that feels she’s not valuable until she sleeps with a man.”

“I hate you.” Diane said,

“You want to love but because you don’t know what it is, yoIu don’t know how to.” She kept quiet, so you continued, “I love you but I can’t let you mess me up.”

“I tried to give you everything, be everything you needed, but it all blew up in my face.”

“I can do this anymore.” You said,

“Well I’m breaking up with you too.” Diane replied.

The whole place felt different to you, you stopped going to Biggie’s after what happened with Diane, because its past 10, she’s the only one here at the restaurant. You both say the regular hi’s as she offered you a seat. “You look good.” She said, you smile, you don’t tell her that you spent an hour looking for what to wear. Then she started, “I’m the owner of this kitchen.” You look startled, “What?”

“My father got me this place, so I named it after my dead brother, his name was biggie.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked, holding her hands, the only way to keep her from crying. “You said the reason why I’m a sexual addict was because I was raped by a house help or a family friend.” You tried to tell her that you only said it out of rage, she doesn’t listen as she drops the bomb. “It was my father.” She wasn’t done talking.

“Biggie my younger brother found out, and why trying to protect me from him, dad pushed him to the wall, he bled till he died.” You gasped for air, she passed you a drink,

“That’s kinda why I can’t help myself but sleep with men.” She said,

“Where is he?” You ask her, “My dad, he’s in Kiri Kiri.”

“He couldn’t get away with all of it.”

“How?” You wonder how you asked, “Figures I wasn’t the only he did it to.” 

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Diane added.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to say, “You didn’t rape me, Akin.” She chuckled. Then it hits you, she didn’t hate love, she just didn’t have it, how could a girl who was never loved at home give out love, something she didn’t have, you could tell she wanted it, but who didn’t want it? At the end of the day, we all needed love.