Moyo's Diary

Chapter 24: It's so Cliche. I Won't Say I Like You... Yet

"This doesn’t feel weird at all," Funmi says as leans against me while I tidy up the last braid. I’m not sure if he’s being sarcastic or if he likes it.

“It doesn’t?”

He cocks an eyebrow and that’s enough to decide what his comment means.

“Well, don’t tell me you don’t like it. I mean, look at you, looking all gangster and all”

“I should have known you were trying to spoil my market.”

I almost choke on my laughter. “What market are you selling sir?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad. Making hair like this will make me look like a hit-and-run guy.”

I burst out laughing because I can’t take it anymore. Is this guy for real? Perhaps it’s how serious he looks while saying the silliest things that make me laugh, or it’s the Nigerian lingua he flawlessly throws around. I’m uncertain which, but I underestimated him.

“What’s funny?”

I shrug running my fingers along his braid. His locks are so beautiful. “Do you add anything to make your hair so curly and soft? I need tips."

"Sorry, the genes worked well for me in this one.” I nudge him for his statement, and he chuckles. “Okay, I have a secret. You wanna hear it?”

I roll my eyes.

“I can be Samson and you’ll be Delilah, seducing me to share the truth behind my hair power.”

“God forbid! I reject it in Jesus’ name. I will not be Delilah in Jesus’ name.” I swing a hand over my head, clicking my fingers while chanting God forbid in the usual Nigerian fashion.

It’s his turn to cackle and I pinch him angrily. He rolls on the floor in a deep belly laugh. “And I thought I was the funny one.”

“Whatever. Don’t be playing that type of play with me.”

“Chill. Someone cannot play with you again.”

“I think your time here has finally expired.”

"You know you'd look better if you left your hair looking this way without the wig." He continues like I didn’t just ask him to leave.

"What do you know?"

"I know that you look more like yourself which is beautiful and that's good enough for me." He's staring at the TV and switching stations with his legs crossed as usual, getting more comfortable. "But like you often insinuate, what do I know? I'm just some kid who needs some talking to about his career path in life, nothing else."

I don't know why his words make me feel guilty, but it does, and I feel horrible.  

"You're not just some kid, I mean, you are very smart and sharp, with a little bit of annoying but if we put that aside, you’re amazing. You have so many goals and dreams and I’m glad I get to be a part of your life. I mean, you made me breakfast, you made three women breakfast, and you're humble enough to allow me to braid your hair. Now that's something in my books."

"Thank you. I look forward to being a dad. Weird right? I've always imagined my kids braiding my hair anyway, just for the fun of it."