Abuja moves

I always wanted to do it in the sky.

But so far, the opportunity has never presented itself but it almost did this weekend.

I was getting ready to pen my piece when my boss asked me to head to Abuja.

“The DG is insisting some one senior comes for the meeting tomorrow. You know my brother is getting married this weekend. It’s family man,” he said.

“But I am family too,” I cried in mock desperation.

“Get out of here , man. Your ticket is ready.”

And so, I picked up my always packed bag (in this business, you got to go when you got to go) and headed straight to the airport.

I had been booked on the last flight to Abuja and I just barely made it.

Abuja is no longer my fave city. It used to be until all the bloodletting started but this was work and there was no way to avoid it.

Call it nerves or what you will but by the time I got on board, my head was banging from the speed reading I was doing to get myself acquainted with the brief so I signalled for a crew member.

She was at least 6 feet tall. Dark complexioned, pretty faced, buxom and gap toothed.

“Could I have some pain killers, please?” I asked and she had smiled and nodded.

“Panic attack?” she asked as she gave me the two tablets and a cup of water.

“No. Stress more like,” I told her as I took the cup and tablets. “Don’t stay too far away, I might need more.”

“Then what you need is a nurse,” she said as she took the used cup from me but made no move to leave.

“Oshoko,” I said whipping out my card.

She took it, squinted to read it then said “what do you guys do exactly at a PR firm?”

“Long story but for one, we make sure the prettiest air hostess brings us pain killers.”

“Bye,” she said and walked away with a laugh.

Our flight was smooth and on my way out of the plane I looked towards her, smiled then corked forefinger and thumb to say call me.

She did about two hours later and it turned out she was staying not too far from Valencia Hotel where I stay.

“Let me buy you dinner,” I said immediately she answered.

“I fly back early tomorrow. I can’t stay up late,” she said.

“That makes two of us. I have an early meeting. Do you know a good restaurant?

When she said yes, I asked her to send me her address so I could pick her up.

We didn’t eat dinner. We ate each other and then we didn’t get to sleep either because when I knocked on her hotel door, she answered the door dressed in nothing but her slippers…

 

By Oshoko Bushushu

 

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