To Basheerah, Who Wants To Know

hi everyone. here's a little note to Basheerah. please pardon the errors, i am cooking.😌

hi, Basheerah.

i took two eggs from the crate and put them at my side to fry once the spaghetti is done. one of them was cracked and i didn't know how. i continued typing what I was working on on the laptop. that morning, i was triple tasking; there were bunch of work to, i was hungry so i had to cook, and i was also packing my stuff because i wanted to travel home to see my mum. it was after about 40 minutes that i remembered the spaghetti was still on fire. as i tried to rush to the kitchen to switch off the gas, i stepped on the eggs. i wasn't bothered. i continued rushing towards the kitchen. when i got to the kitchen, i met the cooker off already. it was simple, i had exhausted the gas. the cylinder wasn't new and the person i bought it from left some gas in it. i didn't know gas finishes. no, i knew it does but i didn't know i'd also be in a place where you'd be cooking and gas would finish. so i rushed out to refill.

“fill it up”, the lady looked at me as though i said something strange because she asked how many 'kg' i wanted.

the spaghetti was already done. it was even burning sef. what i didn't know is why i wanted the egg to be fried. i didn't allow the eggs i stepped on to deny me of my desire. i picked another two and fried them. just as i was about to pack the egg out of the pan, i realised that i didn't add any seasoning to it. no 'maggi' or salt or anything. just ororo and egg. i ate it like that. i can't describe how it tasted in my mouth, but i just had to eat to it because if i didn't, na me e go still pain.

since this is some sort of letter to you, i'd just type directly to you from here. i am trying to figure out how to start without singularly telling you how it's been living alone. i wanted it to be a collection of moments. i could start with how one day i woke up and i couldn't stand from the bed. i was just there, staring at the ceiling and felt tears slipping into my ears from my eyes. but i wouldn't want to start that way because i don't want to be perceived as that kind of writer anymore. it's not shame, it's just a conscious decision.

so i think how i started is on point because it summarises how living alone has been. i was used to sitting at my desk while food and other things came by themselves. it has now become that every day i wake up, there are always things to do. some clothes to wash, some floor to mop, some food to cook, some writing to do or in fact, some sleeping to do but there will also be some reading to do and some late night calls to make.

the new year met me in my room at my hometown, in my father's house. i came home with my brother to sort out something i would have mentioned but i've been getting accusations that i have become over-bare with Bareness. i could whisper it into your ears sha. going home made me realise how much i've missed my previous life. food used to come to my room by itself. the only effort i did was bathing, which, if offered, would have been done by someone else. lol, i'm kidding. but yeah that's the drill.

but living alone made me realise how a man i've become, how i have to be mindful of my spending. any penny taken out must be for a purpose, a useful purpose. i have also learned how to manage my time and mind my business. ha, lemme gist you. there was a day the pumping machine had issue. the switch was close to my flat but as they argued and deliberated on how to fix it, i didn't say pim. i was just in the sitting room, listening to the wail of the refrigerator.

to be honest, i have no intention of writing about me living alone anymore. i had taken it as a challenge on myself for this year. but your comment spurred me to. you sounded like you care, and i don't take it for granted when people care about me. i always want to be like a baby, waiting for his food feeder to be set in his mouth, lol.

it's been fun living alone, i think.

thank you for reading, Bashirah. the book i picked is really killing me, lol. moti fee rerin daku. the book shows me how much wahala there is in a polygamous house, and it gave me a sneak into the lives of women. i'm still reading the book but i hate Iya Segi, for now, until she changes in the character build up.

i read your Substack too and i think you have something excellent for companies who are looking for excellent content creators, like Zikoko. i love how you use dialogue to tell stories and how fictitious, yet real, your narrations are. congratulations on bowing out of University of Ilorin, my chief. you be big boss.