— Meeting Adio
Adebayo Ademola Akingbade, son of Akingbade Adebowale, grew up in a place called Igbesin Oloto. Bayo had the features of both parents; he had the round and bald head his father carried till he breathed his last. He also had the physique of his father: tall, slender, but strong, with very dark skin. He had his mother’s compelling eyes and a very bright smile.
Bayo had lost both parents before his sixteenth birthday. He was sent to go live with his father’s younger brother.
His uncle, who already had two wives and ten children, needed no extra occupant, so he sent Bayo to go live with his aunt, who was unwelcoming too.
Bayo, embittered by his experiences, went to Lagos in search of Adio.
With a polythene bag that contained two tops and one short, Bayo arrived at Adio’s place with excitement, knowing he had come to Lagos to make money.
Adio was the mastermind of the whole plan to leave Igbesin Oloto. Adio would come to the village four times a year to talk about how big Lagos was and how people made money without working at all.
Adio was older than most boys in the town. He had left after writing his senior school examinations some years ago.
He often encouraged the boys from his town to leave Igbesin Oloto to make money in Lagos. Bayo had always admired Adio, not only for his fair look but also for his flamboyant lifestyle.
Adio’s manner of speaking Yoruba using the Lagos accent was attractive, as he no longer had the Ondo accent.
Adio had also told him that his place was always available whenever he was ready.
Bayo arrived in Lagos and located Adio’s house. Adio’s countenance was that of a man surprised to see a guest.
“I never thought you would be the first to pass the baton,” he said.
“It was you who gave me your address,” Bayo replied.
Still engaging in words with him, he said, “Who asks, How are you without expecting an answer? Or who knocks at a door without expecting to be answered?” Bayo queried.
Still acting out, Adio widened the door and asked him to enter. The young lady seated on the bed, half-dressed with her ruffled hair, showed that Bayo had interrupted something. The lady hissed, grabbed her trousers lying haphazardly on the floor, and straightened her hair. She stretched forth her hands towards Adio, who gave her a minted N100 note after a disgruntled look.
Bayo expected no form of refreshment from his host, but was glad when Adio brought water for him to drink. That was all he was served for the day. The following morning, Adio, at this time pacified, went across the street to Iya Morenike to buy ogi and akara for Bayo and himself. After their breakfast, there was a quick rap at the door. Bayo hesitated and continued his meal. While he was about to have the last bite of akara to complement the ogi, Adio signaled to him to open the door.
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“That must be Ronke,” he said.
Bayo opened the door, only to be shocked at the person standing before him. The lady was petite and plump, with a wry and unattractive look like the lady he met the previous day.
“You stare at me like someone who has seen a ghost,” the lady, whose feet were already showing signs of tiredness, said.
“Don’t mind him; he must mistake you for your younger sister, who was here yesterday,” Adio answered.
With a widened mouth, Bayo sighed and rushed back to his ogi to scoop up what was left.
“Please excuse us and go to the backyard. The neighbors are seated there; go join them,” Adio said to Bayo.
“Well done,” one of the neighbors greeted Bayo.
“You are welcome,” a woman with a baby strapped to her back called to him.
It was Saturday morning, and the majority of the neighbors were home, gisting in the backyard. Bayo, being uncomfortable with the scene, left for the bread seller’s shop, where he sat till Ronke left around 6 p.m.
By 7 p.m., the bread seller, Mr. Bakare, had closed his shop to go pray at the mosque while Bayo attended to customers in his absence. Sitting confidently with the goods committed to his care, he helped himself with a bottle of Coca-Cola and a loaf of bread.
Satisfied with the free dinner, he saw himself at Adio’s door after Mr. Bakare’s return from the mosque.
Adio, by this time, was ready to show Bayo the nightlife of Lagosians. Adio took Bayo to Itafaji to see some of his friends—the ones who showed him the way—what he calls them. From Itafaji, they made their way to Sura to greet Alhaji Abbey, the famous baker in Lagos Island who Adio works for.
Alhaji loved the indigenes of Ondo as employees because, to him, they were intelligent individuals. Though he often complained about their frequent stubbornness, nonetheless, he admired their level of intelligence. It was not a debatable issue getting Bayo a job with Alhaji Abbey.
Alhaji Abbey was mostly visited at night by his workers. His employees at the bakery were most welcomed by his wives whenever they visited. The food presented by his four wives, who take turns cooking, was always accompanied by a good reception.
The hospitality Bayo had not received since his arrival at Adio’s place, he received in one night from Alhaji’s youngest bride.
Bayo resumed Eko’s bakery as one of the junior bakers. Even though he had no experience as a baker, his employer was convinced that he would live up to the legacy of his townspeople. Alhaji Abbey was convinced that all Bayo needed was an opportunity to prove himself.
With time, Bayo was able to prove his employer right with his skill and zeal.
The zeal Bayo never displayed back at the village outpouring in Lagos. His co-workers at the bakery mocked his zeal, telling him they were once like him.
After spending a few years in Lagos, he was seen as a Lagosian. He no longer saw himself as the young lad who arrived in Lagos two years ago.
Questioning Bayo’s commitment to his job, Adio cautioned against his non-approval of women.
“It’s been two years since you arrived,” he said, seeking a look of approval to continue.
Bayo sat across the bed in a small room with no fan and a small tinted window glass with dirt all around. The room had a poor reflection of what Adio bragged about in Igbesin Oloto.
Waiting for his favorite radio host to announce last week’s quiz answer, he moved the radio closer.
“Not having women at one’s beck and call could make one feel less of a man. All women understand is money. Thankfully, you have a job with no one to spend your money on. You need to enjoy yourself.”
“I’m listening,” Bayo responded.
“Well,” Adio said, expecting his listener’s gaze to move in his direction.
“Well, what? Bayo’s gaze turned towards his friend after Baba Awe ended the program.
“You see why you need a woman? Who sits with a talking radio for an hour without having someone close to him?”
“A word is enough for the wise,” he concluded without anticipating a reply.
After the conversation, Adio reminded Bayo of his appointment with one of his ladies.
“Ibironke will be coming over tonight, and she will be staying for the weekend. You should go see Tunde and ask if you could stay with him; that’s if he does not have someone for the weekend too.”
With a depressed look, Bayo asked, “If Tunde isn’t willing to accommodate me, Kunle should be willing to, don’t you think so?”
The day had not gone well; there had been a downpour in the early hours of the day, which affected sales compared to other Fridays where sales were usually higher. Bayo thought Adio had spoken to him in such a hostile way because of the day’s sales.
He later walked to Mr. Bakare’s shop to sit for a while and thereafter went to Tunde’s house to ask if he had someone staying over for the weekend. Arriving at Tude’s house, he met a girl who rushed into his house. Realizing how meaningless it would seem to enter the house, he walked frustratingly to Kunle’s apartment.
He met Kunle on the street with another friend of his who sympathized with his plight. Kunle offered Bayo a place for the weekend but insisted they both go to Isaleeko to check for a vacant space to rent.
Fortunately, a small room was vacant with a ridiculously attractive price, which left him no option but to pay that same night.
Mr. Makanjuola welcomed Bayo into the house after introducing himself as the chief tenant of the house. Moving into the compound, he introduced Bayo as his adopted son, having been told of his age.
