Her Beauty Calls-4


Bidemi stared at his friend’s ID card, which looked as if it were on a school uniform. He knew he must have dropped his own I.D card in the library, but he can’t point to a particular place as the exact place it would be, and he needed to get into the Library to get it. His brain became void of ideas, no matter how hard he tried to find the tiniest one.

‘What will I do?’ He said as his eyes darted from place to another.

 Seeing that he had no option, he walked briskly into the library and flashed the library card for the Librarian to see. A clutching, sinking sensation held his chest, but he maintained a straight face.

The porter nodded. The nod released the knot that already formed in Bidemi’s stomach. He raced to the top floor, wishing he knew where the Library card could be. He was holding it before he helped that beautiful goddess-like lady pick her books. Maybe, his head became fuzzy after he saw the fleece of sheep she had in her mouth. Or he stopped living in the real word when a sensation of desire shot through his spine as she touched it. He gave her a library card. Yes, he gave her. It must have been his’. God! He was so concerned with knowing her department that he didn’t look at what he was doing. He wanted to know her name. God was his witness, if he saw her again, nothing in this world would stop him from knowing her name.

‘Wait’, someone said the moment he got to the ground floor. He looked  from the phone he was pressing to see her.

 He felt like the jubilant Billy goat who visited the exotic mountain of the wolf. He looked around to make sure no one saw the great light of the happiness that warmed his heart. 

Her beauty was so natural. No extra make-ups. The bible say it was foolish to compare one with one but if he compared her to Grace, he would see that… He shook his head. He must not even think of Grace. She was beautiful but she was always made up. He shouldn’t be thinking of her. If Grace was what she used to be, he would have chosen her above everyone. Although, she was always seeking his attention when they were younger, he loved her that way. Her obsession was for a year. When they met in Jss3. She was gentler, and only became a tyrant when they got to the University, whenever she saw other ladies with him. For God’s sake, he shouldn’t be thinking of Grace. He shook his hand in anger as though doing so would sprinkle the thought out of his mind.
Bidemi studied the lady in front of him. She was the perfect example of nature. Her beauty draws one. The porter too seemed enthralled. He stared in trance.

  ‘Is that your I.D card?’ the porter said, staring at the I.D Card. She turned it and stared at the card for some seconds.

‘Oh!’ She said, her face distorting.

The lady searched her purse. The porter kept smiling at her as though he was daydreaming. What if they saw Grace? Bidemi smacked his head. He shouldn’t compare Grace to her. They were opposite in everyway. Grace was as fair as the morning sun. He bit his tongue. Grace was fair and  fair, nothing more. The lady in front of him had doves as eyes. Her hair looked like goats descending olumo rock. Here was his prized- person. She would be a great honorarium to have. Even Grace would cringe at the sight of her beauty.

After collecting her card, the lady frowned as she scrutinized the first I.D card, flipping it in her finger. She smiled as she looked at the library card. 

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Bidemi stared at her as she carefully studied the I.D card. He wondered if it would be right to woo her, if it was right to do so without praying. As a Christian, it was always wise to pray before going into a relationship because marrying the wrong person means one would live with that person for 70 years plus of one’s life.

 However, he wasn’t ready to miss the opportunity to talk to her, and if he had the chance he would get her number. She looked up . He quickly looked at his phone.

‘Hey’, she called with delight reflecting in her voice.

Bidemi looked , Pretending to see her for the first time in his life, squeezing his face as though her face looked strange,  strange.

‘Are you…’ she stared asking as she looked at his I.D, ‘ Adeoti A.F?’

‘Yes…?’ He wasn’t sure he knew how the reply came as a question. On a normal day, he might have said yes. But he wondered how she got his surname and initials.

‘This is your library I.D card’.

‘What!’ He said, surprised, ‘how did it get to you?’

‘I don’t know, but the only explanation I can come up with at the moment is that it must have fallen while you were helping me to pick my books the other time.’


‘And thanks again for the other time’, she said as she headed for the room they keep bags.

‘You are welcome’, he said, feeling an invisible hand of fear clutch his throat, leaving him speechless as he watched her stroll off into room.
Normally, other ladies would have tried to get his attention, but this lady seemed not to care, and that sent fire into his veins. He loved challenges, and her stance was challenging. He rubbed his hands together, and blew air into it to keep the cold of the harmattan away.

Someone was waiting for him. But he must get her number, he would get her name- one of the two would do for a .

He sat on a sofa. This chair was facing the stair. From this stair, one could see other parts of the ground floor clearly.

When the lady came out of the room, she headed for the toilet. He gritted.

She would soon be back. He was sure. The words came dancing within his head. There were many punchlines, but he would tell her his’. Yet, he wasn’t finding the right words to tell her what he saw in front of him. 

Five minutes. She hadn’t return.

Five minutes

Maybe she went for major: Major is the name given to the state of defecating. In this state one do not smile- never.

Twenty minutes. No view of her.

She might be thinking. He knew the toilet was the best place for thinking without interruption.

Thirty minutes.

‘ Guy… How far now?’ The dark guy said as he entered the library, his brows drawn together. ‘Have you forgotten I was waiting for you?’

He dumped Bidemi’s heavy bag on his laps. Bidemi winced.

‘I’m sorry’.

‘Be sorry for yourself’, he answered as he moved out of the library,’ and try to reduce the load you are bringing to school. It would kill you  soon’.

Forty minutes.

His heartbeat increased. What had happened to her? Why was she not coming out? Was there another way out of the toilet?

He rose from his seat and went in search of her, hoping he would run into her. So he can use the line of ‘ Oh! We met again for the third time’ and with that he would get her name because he would tell he doesn’t believe in coincidence. 

He got to the front of the toilet and stared at the tag placed in front of it ‘ Female’.

Should he enter?

Should he not enter?

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