Baby Oh, Baby
2
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A comfortable silence settles between us as Ifedayo’s car glides through the streets of Dublin. The city’s sights pass by in a blur, a visual confirmation that Nigeria has a long ways to go. I can’t wait to explore the school and other interesting places I noted during my research.
“Hmm,” Ifedayo begins, “have you had a chance to call home?”
I take my gaze off the eye-pleasing sights. “Not yet,” I admit, smiling sheepishly. “I’ve been distracted, and I don’t have network connection. Do you—”
“Don’t worry about that. Once you’re rested, we could get that done today. And I’d love to help you with a call to the fam. Let them know you’ve landed and are with me.”
“Thank you. Let’s do it,” I agree, eagerly nodding my head. Can I call Special instead? I told him I’ll let him know my movement.
Ifedayo reaches for his phone in the car’s console and sets up a video call. As it rings, he places it securely in the dashboard phone holder. The ringing screen transitions to display G-Ben’s familiar face, his smile lighting up the screen.
After exchanging greetings with Ifedayo while I grin like a roasted goat, G-Ben directs his attention to me. “Ei! You’ve finally left us,” he chuckles.
As the call progresses, I fill G-Ben with my experience so far, including the customs officer drama. Although it’s been less than 24 hours since we last saw each other, I’m already feeling a pang of something I can’t place my fingers on. Is this a glimpse of what life will be like for the next 18 to 24 months?
Focusing on the here and now, I let G-Ben’s voice wrap around me like a blanket, storing up his chuckles and joint teasing with Ifedayo for days when I feel homesick. Not long, he stands and says, “Hold on a sec, Fifi. I’m going to get the parents.”
Moments later, the screen shifts, and my parents’ faces come into view, their smiles mirroring the familiarity I think I’m missing.
Calm down, Fifi! You’ve hardly spent a day here!
Our conversation continues with jokes and laughter, with Mama Gee occasionally pulling Ifedayo into the conversation. When I tell her of the customs brouhaha and how the spices and cooking ingredients she gave to me are safe, she goes on to say, “Thank God they didn’t take them. At least it would make sure you have a taste of home whenever you need it. If not, I’ll have to Bluetooth them to you.”
“Bluetooth food?” I chuckle.. “Mama Gee! Thank you, ma.”
“Please focus on your studies, okay?”
“Yes, ma.”
Daddy’s voice booms through the speakers. “We’re proud of you, Fiyinfoluwa. Keep shining over there.”
Warmth fills my heart at the audible confirmation of their love and support. My decision to study abroad was so drastic, yet they stood by me. And are still standing by me.
Before I know it, Mama Gee and daddy take turns in praying for me, wishing me well, and blessing Ifedayo. Ifedayo’s hand tightens on the steering wheel, gratitude evident in his eyes as he softly murmurs ‘ amen’ to their prayers. Why so emotional? Could it be due to the sense of unity my parents are displaying? From what I know, his parents never seemed to see eye to eye. After enduring years of heated arguments and embarrassing conflicts, his mother eventually had to uproot their family and relocate with him and his siblings.
As the call winds down, I assure them I’ll stay in touch once I get an Irish phone number.
“Are you okay?” I ask immediately the call ends.
Ifedayo responds with a knowing smile, tapping his hand on the steering wheel while we wait at a traffic light. “I’m good. You have a wonderful family.”
Not knowing exactly what to say, I simply reply, “Thank you.”
In the humming silence of the car, I smile at the unique shape of a building. I want to speak with Special. To let him know I’m safe with Ifedayo. I can almost imagine he has tried calling me a thousand times.
My heart tugs in two directions as a quiet debate unfolds within me—whether to reach out to Special while in the car with Ifedayo or wait until I acquire the promised phone number. Considering the way the day is unfolding, I’m not sure we’ll get to that today.
The prospect of hearing Special’s voice, even for a brief moment, feels like an act that could diminish the two-hour flight distance between us. Yet, there’s a hesitation, a very tiny voice of doubt—would it be okay to ask Ifedayo to use his phone for such a personal call? Would Special be happy with the arrangement, considering he wasn’t pleased with the setup from the get-go?
“Um… Ifedayo,” I start, nervously licking my suddenly dry lips. It dawns on me I hadn’t considered what I’m about to ask earlier. “Do you mind if I make a quick call on my phone?”
His response is swift and accommodating. “Of course not.” He unlocks his phone with his fingerprint. “Go ahead. You can use my Wi-Fi if you like.”
“Thank you so much,” I reply, touched by his thoughtfulness. Tapping into his Wi-Fi, I set up the connection and dial the number that’s etched in my heart .
With each ring, I hold my breath, waiting for the promise of a familiar voice.
“Fifi baby…” His warm familiar voice makes me inhale deeply. Speaking to my family made me happy. This… this is euphoria.
“Special.” I breathe, infusing all the emotions I’ve held within me, forgetting Ifedayo is next to me. I want to scream, I made it! We made it! I’m right here. Next to you. We can do anything and be anything!
“How’s it going? I guess you’ve met the guy, yeah?”
“Yes. We’re on our way to his place.”
“Good. Good.” He sounds distracted.
Skipping a sidelong glance at Ifedayo, I lean back in my seat and look out at the passing scenery. I’m sure he’s tired of hearing me tell this story, but, whatevs. “You won’t believe what this customs officer…” I start, going into details about my close call.
“Oh, sorry about that. Um… can I call you back later?”
Not the reaction I was expecting. “Sure.”
“Sorry baby. I’m at work and don’t want my supervisor to—”
“It’s fine baby.” I want to share that I can’t wait to start planning our reunion after over a year, but that can wait. And it’s not conversation for extra ears. I press my lips with a cheeky smile, tossing a glance at Ifedayo who is fully concentrated on the drive.
“Thanks. I love you.”
“Love you.”
“You said?”
“Love you…” Is that a smile I see on Ifedayo’s lips?
“Really?”
Oh, Spesh! “I love you.” I chuckle, catching up. See why I love this mushy human? He can risk getting caught by his supervisor for this.
“Take care, love.”
Smiling, I take a deep, satisfying breath as I hang up. The journey ahead may be challenging, but with the love we share, every step is worth it .
I scroll through apps on my phone and find messages from Linda and Alice in Nigeria, Ekene in Germany, and the handful of friends who knew about my departure. It brings a smile to my face. I’ll call Alice later.
In the days leading up to my departure, Alice, Special’s sister, and I formed a strong bond. I’m glad I took his suggestion on becoming friends with her because she is something like a sister to me now.
Over time, our conversations evolved from polite exchanges to deeper topics and even sharing of dreams. When I shared the news of my acceptance to Charleston College and the scholarship, she was thrilled.
I’m resting against the windowsill, thoughts of Special and his family bringing a smile to my lips, when Ifedayo’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. “Is he back in Nigeria?”
“Huh? Who?”
“Your bobo?”
I press my lips into a smile. “No… he’s in the UK.”
“Oh, cool.”
“Yes…” He didn’t ask, but I’m just so excited everything is falling into place. “He’s almost done with his studies.”
Tossing me a sidelong glance, Ifedayo teases, “Love you...”
Is he…? I roll my eyes with a mock sigh. “You’re impossible.”
With a laugh, he says, “I’m just stating what I observed.”
Smiling, I decide to shift the conversation slightly. “Speaking of which, how much do you think a trip to the UK would cost?”
He considers the question, his eyes thoughtful. “It varies, depending on when you plan to go, where you want to stay, and how you want to get around. But let’s say you’re working, and you save up diligently, within six months, it’s definitely an achievable goal.”
Six months… Hmm. I will save, work hard, and eliminate the distance that separates me from Special. The thought of being with him, of sharing a life here… it’s within my grasp. With my Naija spirit, give or take six months. That’s very achievable.
“Here we are!” Ifedayo announces as we drive into a garage and as I had assumed, an auto-shop is the tush name for mechanic shop .
I listen raptly as Ifedayo drops valuable insights about Charleston College—yeah, lucky me, he’s an alumnus. His anecdotes paint a vivid picture, making the unfamiliar feel like a second home I can’t wait to explore. He shares shortcuts to the best spots, recounts the hidden gems where students gather, and offers advice on professors who inspire and challenge, providing me with a head start only a friend who’s been there could offer.
“And the library,” he chuckles, “you’ll practically live there,” he smirks. “But don’t worry, you’ll make good memories.” He winks. “I trust you to.”