Dark Chocolate ( Grace's Story )

200 level Theater Arts in Unilag was like spending two years trying to stay sane in a mad house.

Normalcy was just impossible. The madness was contagious. For me, Grace Ude, with all sorts of crazy already in my genes, it was a perfect rollercoaster ride.

Maybe that was why my roommate Rashida called me Grey. She was like the only one friend I had in all my two years here. She listened to me when I needed to rant about one thing or the other (I always had to vent). And she even tolerated me when I cranked the volume way up, when listening to Fela. I didn't care about our disgruntled landlord downstairs. The two room self-con cost us two hundred and fourty thousand naira, and my daddy did well to pay for two years upfront. All I had to do was look for a live-in company. And heaven sent me Rashida.

She understood my craziness and accepted me anyway I was.

"Grey shuga. Remind me to wax ur locks for you before you go home this weekend" she shouts from the bathroom "We don't want your pastor daddy freaking out again" she said, reminding me of the promise I made to daddy to always look decent despite rocking dread locks.

"I dont even want to go home" I shouted back "Mumsi is hosting the wives of all zonal pastors this weekend, and you know very well what that means Rashida"

She came out of the bathroom, smelling of fresh shower gel and roses, the towel wrapped around her did very little to conceal her buxom figue. Full breasts protesting against the loose towel.

"Babez! If I was a guy ehn, I'd marry you for breasts sake" I joked playfully.

"You are a lost case, you" she suddenly makes a dash for the kitchen "Oh my God. The indomie on fire. Grey!!"

"Sorry. I forgot! " I hid my face behind the novel in my hands again.

She was the cook, the listener, the fashion consultant, shopping partner, and a whole lot more. She was the best roomie in the world and I took every advantage given.

She was strong for me. When dad wasn't so sure about my lifestyle, she vouched for me... and she got me studying and working very hard at my grades. She was my soul sister.

My real sister however; Toke... That one was just my sister. Sometimes, its hard to believe we came out from the same loins. We practically disagreed over everything.

She was mum's failed project, as I was dads.

Of course, I take responsibility for my loose tongue and being the wild cat. But, I wasn't stupid or hypocritic.

Toke was the privileged brat I had to constantly remind myself never to take after. So when she sent me a WhatsApp text that evening demanding that I come home for the weekend to help mumsi host her house party, I cringed and cursed her inside.

"Why can't she do it herself? " I hissed and sent the phone flying.

Her insentience always left me in a terrible mood every time we spoke. How can she boss me around like that? She knew all the mumu buttons to press to disrupt anyone's day. I couldn't concentrate on my novel again and I had a test, based on the book the next day. I was almost frsutrated.

"Just chill OK? " Rashida said, looking up at me knowingly from the corner where she sat on her praying mat. A devout muslim. "may Allah, Yah-Lateef give you the patience to deal with her. Remember, Sister Toke is family"

I wonder what planet this one came from. Nothing ruffles her. I thought to myself.

She finished her prayers and joined me on the bed. She sat crossed-legged in front of me and took my hands in hers.

"Grey dear. Worry is the darkroom in which negatives develop. I need you to shake it off now"

"How do I do that" I said, "how can my family be the last set of people I wish to spend time with? Rashida, I feel no joy whenever I go home to lekki. There's no life there.. " I broke down sobbing.

She gently cupped my head to her bosom "Grey... Honey... listen to me and repeat after me.."  she squeezed my hands lovingly "Say... Father... Once again I pray for a sense of balance and realism as I make my way through this world. Help me to understand that the joy you give is not intended to remove all sadness but to live above it all. In Jesus name I pray. Amen." I repeated amidst sobs. It didn't occur to me how an Alhaji's daughter was able to pray with me in Jesus name... and, I felt so much better afterwards too.

Rashida!

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A few minutes to four pm, and Rashidas Fathers driver was honking downstairs and beeping her phone at the same time.

"Babez. That your lousy driver is at it again o. Why is his blood always rushing anyway?"  I hissed maliciously as she scrurried around the room, picking her things. I knelt beside her box on the bed; doing nothing to help.

I wasn't happy I was being left alone in school.

She looked at me like she could read my thoughts, she said

"Grey, that's Alfa Abu you're talking about...  and please stop looking as if its goodbye forever"

"You are leaving me for two days"

 "I'd be back on Monday morning and in case you change your mind and go help your mother this weekend, please make sure you switch off the meter... and the gas too abeg"

This girl was really going to leave me sha.

"I have to study babez... My regards to Alaja" I threw a pack of sanitary pad at her.

She smiled and shut the door.

Loneliness slowly surged into the apartment immediately after that. I didn't feel left alone, I felt stressed. Knowing I could have some sort of ephemeral company if I wanted to... Right now... All I had to do was to dial 'Pharmaceutical' on my phone and in 15 minutes, I'd be smoking on some neatly wrapped SKunk from Down-Shitta ... Instead of going to study... I felt stresed.

You see, as a junkie, it is one of the withdrawal symptoms that you experience when trying to resist weed craving. Marijuana which possesses the depressant properties of alcohol and is also a mild halucinogen, used to hamper anxiety.

But if I did something distracting... something relaxing, I could shake it off.

What would Rashida do in this situation? And with that, I quickly undressed and stepped into the shower. Having a shower is a good way of relieving stress and at the same time is going to distract you and delay weed cravings.

I was going to study. Go to the lagoon front and read out loud to an imaginary listener. That's what I'd do. Since Rashida wouldn't stay with me. I would find myself some company of sorts.

That was the day I met Pete Agemo. Cute, free-spirit looking boy. He looked like Sean Tizzle (before the mumu started bleaching). I needed the company, so I flirted.

"Hey. You could come join me if you want; you’re just as thin as me”.

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Read Part 1 HERE

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About The Writer

 Tobi Kuti is a multi-talented vibrant young man, who loves to read and write. He is a creative writer, a motivational writer & speaker and also he is a spoken word artist. He hails from Ondo state and he currently in Lagos Nigeria.
He has written various forms of literary art and creative writing such as novels, short stories, poetry, plays, news articles,
screenplays, and essays. Off the stage he is Teacher, Chef, Poet/Songwriter and he has little knowledge of everything. Kinda follow him on
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