We met at a Christmas Dinner.

We met at a Christmas dinner. One year later, we met at my favourite coffee shop.

It was Christmas of the year ’23. Although the streets jingled with merriment, my heart was far from merry. I was sad, a deep and dark kind of sad that eluded the gaze of ordinary men. But my friend Osaze noticed it, and invited me to a fine dining experience he was hosting for a few friends. “something to get you out of your head”, he said while pitching the gathering to me.

A day before Christmas, Osaze called again to check if I would be honouring his invitation, and with a laugh, I said, “at this point, if I don't attend, you will have my head on a platter, but let's see what happens. You know how it is, it all depends on how I feel tomorrow.”

With a scoff, he countered, “na why I no dey like introverts be this, which one be ‘depends on how I feel’, una too dey reason things. Just carry your body come abeg, no stress me. It won't be loud, I promise.”

Osaze is a typical Benin man and, as is a thing with most I know, their jollification always sings in volume, so when he said it wouldn't be loud, it was as though he was saying, Moya I see you, I know you, and I will not make you regret leaving your house. And I couldn’t say no to that. So when he called that Christmas morning to check on my attendance, it was no surprise I was already making my way to him.

I got into Osaze’s apartment, and the aroma of smoke had me craving a dig through his oven. I immediately dropped the pack of juice and snacks I brought along and helped myself to a bowl of garri, sugar, milk, and Osaze's signature roasted fish. We talked as I dug into my bowl of garri. I had expected to be the only one, seeing as it was dinner and not breakfast we had been invited for. I only came early to help Osaze with the prep, so imagine my shock when I saw a man walking down the stairs. I looked at Osaze with eyes that judged him for not telling me we had company, and he had the audacity to smile!

“Moya meet AJ, AJ meet Moya, my key to fame. She's an incredible poet and an awesome storyteller, but she likes the behind-the-scenes too much, so we're working on that. Too many of us depend on her for stardom, we cannot afford to watch her stay in the shadows. I'll leave you two to the introductions. I have to go make a call.”

“What introduction are you leaving me to? You already laid out my life without my consent, so what more is there?” I threw back at him, but before he could rebut, AJ interrupted.

“I have a hearing defect, so I didn't quite catch anything he said except your name. And I'd like to get to know you better, if that's okay with you.” I knew then I also wanted to know him better, and it wasn't because of how softly his words laddered on me, or the extension of his tender-looking hands, it was the smile that accompanied it, warm and daring. I took his hand and smiled back, then turned to Osaze and said, ‘You’re lucky he's smooth.’

As Osaze hurried up the stairs, AJ and I settled on the couch.

“So I lied. I don't have a hearing defect, and I’d love to read your stories. Osaze talks about your writing a lot!”

‘Interesting. Is that something you do often? Lie?’

“This is my first time actually. I've never told a lie before. Hell, they say, hath no fury like a woman scorned. All I was trying to do was save Osaze’s head from your wrath. If you’ll condemn me for defending a brother in error, then .I'll assume my punishment.”

‘Guy, are you the poet or am I the poet?’

“Poet? Me? Not at all. The mere aura of you oozes poetry, I pale in comparison to that, but I dabble.”

“So you write, that's not a surprise at all. Do you share your pieces online? I'd like to read”

“No, I don't. I scribble in my notepad now and again, but that’s it. I don't have much of what you call a media presence. I only have a few pictures of myself at Marketing and Advertising summits. I model sometimes, but it's for fun. What you see is what you get. I'm not a superstar like someone I just met.”

We talked for about an hour more. Like me, he came early to help Osaze with dinner preparations. In his words, cooking is better with company - and I agree.

Turns out he had seen me before - several times, actually - but from a distance, and he had heard things too (that didn't surprise me). Some people he had been in spaces with (some of whom I had encountered) seemed to have a lot to say about me. While some had good things to say, some said un-nice things. And unlike the secondary school me who got hurt whenever un-nice and untrue things were said about her, I smiled and shook my head. I understood them now. And felt sad for them. Truly.

When I smiled, he turned to me and said, “That’s probably their problem right there. You know you can be intimidating, right?” I had never heard a better joke, so I burst out in a belly of laughter, waited for him to laugh too, but he had a soft grin, and that's when I realised he was serious.

‘Me? Intimidating? I'm just a woman with the appetite of a child hungry for life and its tiny joys, and I play a lot. I even fear that I'm never serious about anything, and you say people find that intimidating? Oh, please! Tell me something I'll believe.”

“It’s not about poise, Moya. It's about truth and clarity. Now, don't get me wrong, I like it. I've spent over an hour with you, and I didn't even know we had spent this much time together until Osaze shouted our names from his room, and we looked at the time. Not once did I feel out of place. I like talking with you. But you must also understand that our world has romanticized uncertainty, so when someone moves confidently in their truth, it often triggers something in those who haven't found theirs. Those who think they can't find theirs. When that happens, the human is given two options: love or hate. Hate seems easier. People like easy. It is just what it is.”

“I don't know really. I mean, I get what you're saying, but it doesn't make sense to me. I don’t have it figured out. I only know a fraction of what I've been called to do, and every day I choose to move with audacity, even when it seems ridiculous to do so. And most days, it is ridiculous. I've had things said about me all my life, primary school, secondary school, university…it's been a never-ending cycle, so I'm used to it. Forgive me, but I find it suspicious that you have proximity to these talks.”

“Like Osaze rightly said, you are a star. And what do stars do, shine? And what do viewers do? Gaze and talk. I like to be in creative spaces, even though I mostly work in marketing. The talks happened in those spaces. I just happened to be there.”

We eventually wrapped up our chat and got to helping Osaze, who had been sneaking into our conversation from the kitchen. As we cooked, we ate. AJ and I had more than two pieces of grilled chicken before Osaze slapped our hands away from the bowl and made us promise not to take any more. We promised. And we broke it. We snuck a large piece out of the bowl and shared it.

Dinner was amazing. And the company was even more amazing. I was grateful that Osaze did not only invite me, but persuaded me to attend. After the meal, everyone moved to the living room to watch a movie. While the movie selection struggle was going on, AJ and I snuck out to the kitchen to do the dishes. Snuck out because Osaze must not catch us. He hates when I come over and help with the dishes after eating. AJ was known for the same thing, and Osaze hated it too. But we couldn't help it.

We talked through doing dishes - about history, the pivot of African literature, films, and the business side of creativity. It felt like we could spend the whole day talking, and we’d still have so much to talk about. Osaze came to the kitchen once, shook his head at us, and left. We laughed and continued.

With the dishes done, it was time for me to go home. I hugged Osaze, booked my ride, bid the rest of the guests a Merry Christmas because it was indeed Merry, and walked to my ride with AJ. I could tell he wanted to ask for my number, but struggled with the timing. Eventually, he hugged me and left, hoping we'd see again sometime. I smiled.

Over the next few months, we found ourselves in similar spaces - a brand shoot where we both happened to be models. An event where I was a speaker and he, an attendee. A campaign shoot for a fashion brand where I worked as PR manager and he, a model. Despite these infrequent meetings, we never had the time to talk as we would like. Once, we met at a supermarket, but I was in a hurry to a meeting and only stopped to get strawberry yoghurt. I waved at him as I ran back to my friend’s car.

When we finally got to talk again, 7 months had gone by. We met at a bus stop. We kept smiling at each other until I broke the ice with a question about how many books he had read. I remembered our first conversation; he mentioned wanting to read a lot that year, so I asked how far he had gone. He had read 15 books, so I clapped for him. Onlookers dug their eyes into us, but I didn't care. We talked for another 15 minutes before getting on the bus. I thought he'd ask for my number, but he didn't. His bus stop was before mine, so he got down and waved me off. I waved back.

It was Christmas of the year ’24. I had come a long way from last Christmas; my heart boiled over with delight. My smile stayed on my face till my cheeks started to hurt, so much so I begged God to slow down on the joy, but He did not answer. I sought out ways to spread the Christmas feeling, and what better way to do that than with food that feels like home? So I went shopping and cooked up a feast. I plated portions for my neighbours, and they loved it. Then I bagged packs of different delicacies for my friend who worked at my favourite coffee shop. I got dressed and headed out with my sister.

At the coffee shop, my friend and I couldn't stop hugging each other as is a thing with women. *Oh, how I love being a woman!* We spun, giggled, and held onto each other as if we were all that remained of humanity. Then I gave her the bag and her eyes filled with water. She hugged me firmly, and I hugged her back. I understood.

A year ago, I felt the same way she felt, and a friend had been kind enough to extend warmth to me; it was only right that I pay it forward. As I am sure she will. I sat with my sister in the coffee shop, waiting for the rain to subside, when out of the corner of my right eye, I noticed a dark figure sitting alone. It was raining, and with the showers came streaks of lightning. As the lightning slithered across the glass close to where he sat, I saw his face and my heart leaped - AJ!

My sister's face scrunched into a frown as I ran to him. Lol, I made a mental note to explain later. He looked shocked but just as delighted to see me when he stood up to hug me. He pulled out a chair for me, and I sat.

We were quiet for the first few minutes, then a notification on my phone broke the silence. It was Snapchat showing me a memory from a year ago. I normally would not have opened it, but something about it felt right, so I clicked, and there we were -AJ and I laughing and talking in the kitchen - a video Osaze had recorded on my phone without my consent. I raised my phone to his face and showed him the memory, and he smiled so brightly, it seemed as though it was to shadow his tears.

“Wow, it’s exactly one year today. This could also be our anniversary. Want to know a funny thing?” I shrugged as if saying, even if I don't want to know, you'll tell me. He laughed and said, “and you wonder why they say you are proud?”

‘Point of correction, I don't wonder’

“Touché. Anyway, ‘Miss. I don't wonder’ I threw a Christmas wish-list to the heavens, and one of the things I asked for was a sign. A confirmation that the gift of joy in a person from last Christmas was not meant to be a one-off. And guess who runs to me in the middle of a stormy Christmas? - that body of joy!”

‘I take it back, it was never a question. You are the poet. Forgive me for ever thinking poetry had anything to do with me, because what is this poeticism of a confession? I guess it's your lucky day then, here I am. Heaven must have thought to smile on you.’

“Oh, yes! And you know what will make the smile an even more perfect one?”

‘I’m guessing you're about to tell me’

“Jeez! Your arrogance knows no limit, does it? Well, if I get to leave here with your number, my Christmas is made. So what do you say, Miss?”

“I thought you'd never ask”

The end. Or not.