Diary of the Crazy Shaniqua Bello

Log Twelve: WICKED GOAT

TWELVE
WICKED GOAT

01/01/2022

New Year's Day

3:59 pm

Dear Diary

I was pretending to be getting off the phone with a client when he stepped into the car and dropped a pack of food next to me without uttering a word and I also decided to match his energy by mounting my thanks for the food like I was trying not to interrupt the call.

Remember what I told you about madness and Lagos?

I was now ending a genuine call when he cleared his throat and said the words: "There's a party this evening at the mansion."

"Are you talking to me, sir?"

"...what's your name?"

Hold up!

Didn't I tell you that this dude is the SHAD MOSS of Africa?

Not him asking what my name is like he hasn't just sat through hours of me repeating and repeating my name—to the extent that I always flinch alongside the driver whenever I said it.

"Shaniqua...Shaniqua Bello, Mr..."

Two can play this game, I thought as I faltered with squinted eyes and for a second, my eyes connected with that of the driver and I feared that maybe I might have pushed it too far.

"I'm Elvis...Elvis Bankole; your BOSS who's going to have you fired if you show the slightest hint of misconduct or sleekness anymore—We're the only ones in the car and you ask if I'm addressing you?"

"No oo, me I thought—I figured you were addressing the uniformed chauffeur, sir," I said and almost choked on my spit at the sound of my sarcasm.

"Right. Anyway, you're expected to be there."

"I fear that I might be underdressed sir." I scanned my laid-back Secretary wardrobe 101 looks: a knee-length black skirt, a starched-but not too starched-white shirt, and a black flat shoe; more like a go-to choir look, if I'm being honest.

"You look just fine to me." He responded without even throwing me a look. Bebi, this man hates me.

"Yes sir." I nodded slowly and started to dial more numerical digits.

"Aremo! Please kindly stop at RMD's place, I need to pick up a script and also invite him formally to the New Year party." I heard the man seated next to me say and just when I tried to speak, he threw me a death glare that made it clear to me that he was aware of the words that were going to come out of my mouth next. "You, are staying in the car, RMD doesn't like meeting strangers announced."

"Wicked goat," I said and quickly bit my lips.

"What?"

"Bad network—very terrible network—is it glo" he looked from him to the phone and I could tell that he didn't buy my network crap.

. . .
4:21 pm

I can't believe it Bebi, we're packed in the iconic Richard Mofe Damijo's house and all I can say is that I must have money in this life.

Wait a minute, I can see the driver running towards the car—he doesn't run whenever Elvis is behind him so he probably forgot something in the car.

. . .
4:56 pm

Me! Bebi, I'm what he forgot.

"The boss wants you inside," Aremo said with a smile on his face like he was making my year by just relaying the simple message.

Truth is, he WAS.

I'll be right back with more gist.

Bye for now
The RMD meeting Shaniqua

Vote
Vote
Vote
Thank you!
If you don't know how to vote, click on that star below and see what happens.
And yeah, follow me on Instagram
@cinmithewriter