By Ikeoluwa Amonimo
Love conquers all, they say, but not exactly all. At least, not for Dunni and I. Our paths did cross in the most unbelievable way possible. It was as though the universe knew we should be made for each other.
Sadly, or fortunately, depending on whose side of the story you listen to, we didn’t. My side of the story will tell you she should be the only one for me. She was, but that was until Emmanuel waltzed into the picture with his bald head, fine face, and enviable tall height. I don’t blame Dunni for loving him but that’s not the story for today.
When we met, I was job hunting. A fresh graduate looking for a means of survival and livelihood. As a Mass Communication graduate, I’d applied to tons and tons of media houses, but to no avail. My stellar record showed how many journalism internships I’ve done, my many years in my alma mater’s radio stations as well as the freelance gigs. As I waited unattended at the reception of Crank Up Radio Station, 111F.M., I grew impatient.
“What is going on here?”
“Please be patient,” the receptionist said, “We are waiting for our manager as she is on the interviewing panel. She went on an impromptu assignment.”
“So we should just be waiting abi? Till when!” I rose to my feet.
As I was about to charge at the receptionist, I ran into someone and we both fell, sprawled across the cold tiled floor.
“Ah! Manager!!” The receptionist shouted.
On hearing that, I jumped up and reached out my hands to help her up while apologising repeatedly.
“I’m so sorry, ma. I’m deeply sorry.”
Although in shock from the impact of the fall, she let me help her up, nodded at me that she was okay, and disappeared behind some wooden door. Her silence told me all I needed to know, that I wasn’t going to get the job. Not in this life or the next.
Still, I dropped my application letter at the receptionist’s desk and made my way out of the building. I stayed holed up indoors, wondering if I would have gotten the job if only I’d stayed calm and not caused a scene. But this anger of a thing always overwhelmed my thoughts and composure.
Months ran into years and two years in, I’d risen to the managing director level at a television station. It was a new one at the time, barely three years in business, but still, I was in charge. Life brought Dunni back to my life during an award dinner to celebrate media houses. Crank Up won the award of the best radio station for the umpteenth time in a row.
“Let’s call on Miss Dunni Oriade, General Manager, Crank Up Radio Station.”
Claps chorused and echoed about the room and all eyes were on the gorgeous woman that stepped on the podium. Taking a better look at her face, she was an epitome of beauty, the light shining above radiates her dark skin. Extremely beautiful, just like the deity Oshun, was described.
“Thank you all for…” Her words faded into the background as her face was the only significant view to behold. The night passed and my television station lost the Upcoming TV Station award to De Gold, a television station that had been five years in existence before mine. Brewing with anger, I ran blindly into one of the restrooms and punched a hole in the wall.
“Fuck!” I cursed.
“Easy there, tiger.” The same voice I heard minutes ago addressed me. It sounded like cold water dampening the soul.
I looked back to see Dunni behind me, wiping her hands clean. It was then I realised I entered an occupied restroom to vent my anger. Throughout our relationship, it was a teasing object for both of us.
“I’m so sorry.” I apologised while scrambling out.
Dunni held me back. “Wanna ditch this shitty gathering?” She asked.
Looking up at her surprisingly, I nodded. “Sure. And your award plaque?”
“I’ll text my assistant. She’ll grab it.”
We left in her car that night. A sleek red convertible that she fit perfectly behind its wheel. It was evident that everything in her world was made exactly for her. We stopped at a party club for drinks. It looked like the extremely overpriced ones but I was ready to risk my month’s salary for one hour with Dunni. We settled down by the bar quietly and I watched her speak to the bartender for our orders. I was so entranced all I did was nod at her suggestions.
“You remember me, don’t you?” I asked.
Dunni smiled brightly, “Of course, I do.”
“I’m sorry for that day. I hope you didn’t get bruised or anything. I’d never forgive myself if I had a hand in smearing your magnificence.” I was surprised at my choice of words. Romantic wasn’t an adjective to describe me.
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