Tseju's Bayo

Chapter Two

“Ladies and ladies,” Toyen said, bringing the group of 5 girls to an abrupt stop under one of the huge sprawling mango trees, one of multiple resident trees in Zandens Zitenge garden. This particular garden was one of its 15 botany stops scattered randomly, like beads spilled from a bead bowl, all over the university. “The home of the most eligible bachelor in Zanden,” she said, gesturing to the giant building less than a stone throw away from the garden, with a golden plaque that had Faculty of Engineering boldly splashed on it, the black letters sharply contrasting the gold backdrop of the plaque. “Bayo Ayodeji Jacobs.”

Tseju suppressed a groan, but couldn’t stop her eyes from doing an abrupt cartwheel in their sockets.  When she decided to travel the stressful miles to Zanden University to pay a long overdue visit to Diane Osarumen, the girl she virtually grew up with, who she had come to consider a sister from another mother, she certainly hadn’t planned on the visit becoming a man tour. But, her friend had friends, and one of them was an aspiring man bounty hunter. Seriously, she was certain she had enough information on the “Eligible men” of Zanden International to be considered a high profile stalker. Meanwhile, the real stalker, who had every little detail, right down to the net worth of the various parents of the bachelors was Toyen Demije-Adams, a curvy 21 year old with an ungodly appetite for all things man. Not that Tseju had anything against the spicy young lady or all the gist she was giving, but as a single and tired of mingling 22 year old, all this gist about hot hot men only reminded her of where she was. The hottest thing she was able to attract was Mama Jide’s catfish pepper soup and that wasn’t exactly helpful. Just look at her forever expanding waistline. Sigh!

    “Oh God Toyen! The way you’re doing, it’s strapphnoccocus that will yus kih you. This girl you too like man. Ah babe calm down na. Nor be say you wan marry na oh…” Di said, momentarily distracting Tseju from her tummy woes.

    “My sista, you’re talking marriage? Tha wan too far. Date keh, sista nor gree. Na to dey do like peson wen enta shop window shop naim she sabi.” Fejiro teased.

    A light chuckle began a journey from Tseju’s belly, travelling upwards, causing her shoulders to do a mini bata dance and jumps out of her Maroon painted lips as laughter. Soon, the five girls standing under the tallest mango tree in the Zitenge Garden beside the faculty of engineering are caught up in a laughing fit. All except Toyen who doesn’t appreciate being the butt of the joke.

    “Whatever you guys….Duuurrrrrrhhhhh.” Toyen said, thick sarcasm obvious in her voice.

    “Durrrhhhhh yoursef.” Zanadel piped in too, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to take a swing at Toyen who was forever teasing her because of her braces.

    Tseju smiled as Toyen stuck her tongue out at the other girls. These girls were a riot act. She loved them! Toyen, the loudmouth man bounty hunter, who hoped to spend eternity in a heaven filled with hot men or Manradise as she humorously puts it, Zanadel the nerdy exchange student from the Netherlands whose brain rivaled Wikipedia when it came to History, but rivaled E! Entertainment when it came to fashion or celebrity gossip. Yep, she definitely put a beautiful twist to being a “nerd”. Then, there was Esohe the Edo girl with a tongue that could cut through rock, skin as dark as her humor and hands that created beautiful things with anything hair related and last but not the least, Diane. The brainy tomboy who lived for fashion, but had secret not so secret plans to destroy the institutionalized system of education when she finally became the first female president. This squad was going to rule the world one day. Side by side her squad of course. Girl Power!!

At that exact moment, a tall lean figure emerged from one of the huge openings sandwiched between massive boulders of the Engineering faculty building. “Oh my God you guys,” Toyen all but yelled, her voice laced with excitement and perhaps, a spoonful of awe, if you’re measuring. “It’s Bayo.”