Read the daily, non-fictional tales of a young, unmarried Nigerian woman who lives in Lagos at this time.
Kunle, Tudun's boyfriend, is four years younger than she is. He is fine and tall - extremely so. She looks like a dwarf beside him, and she is not even short. But she does not seem to mind. In fact, I sense that she loves it.
He keeps a short beard, one which he neatly trims ever so often and gets him a lot of attention.
Dandy would be a perfect way to describe him, as he would much rather worry about his annoying Falz da Bahd Guy hair pattern than his career - or lack of it.
In all the years that I have known him, I have never seen him hold down a job.
He says he likes being a businessman, but I do not see the business he does. I doubt that Tudun does either.
A leech is what I call him, one who is ready to prey on his victim and suck them dry.
That is not the worst of it, though.
His anger issues are cringe-worthy. One time when Tudun and I spent longer time than we had intended at a colleague's party, he called her no less than 10 times. When she finally picked, I could hear him raising hell over the phone and he was not on loudspeaker.
"What's wrong?" I could not help voicing my thoughts.
"Don't mind him. He is sulking that I am not home yet," she replied.
"Na wa o! Are you his wife or what?"
There were many other similar occasions. There were times, too, when I feared that he would hit her.
Why she has chosen to stay with someone like him, I have no idea. It's not like there is a shortage of men lining up at her door. It's not like she is not beautiful and smart. Why she has chosen to stay with him, I will never know.
Each time I try to talk to her about it, she becomes defensive. So, I have stopped trying. Even when she brings it up, I mind my business and say nothing.
"Why aren't you saying anything?" she asked once after going on a rant about how Kunle had done something that annoyed her.
"Nothing," was all I said, and that was it. I was never going to interfere in her boyfriend palaver ever again.