Mamaa had always found the phrase ‘all is fair in love and war’ to be ridiculously misleading.
‘War’ suggested that every party had an equal chance of winning, and from what Ire had shown her, love wasn’t like that.
No. Ire had shown her that love could be dangerous, a thing that could take root and grow outwards, destroying everything in its path, with no regard for what it ruined. He probably didn’t realise it, but he had shown her that love had many faces. It could be a big, bold, beautiful thing but if you didn’t guard your heart, it could also be a total massacre.
As far as Mamaa is concerned, it’s all a matter of perspective and from what she can see in hindsight, she never stood a chance.
The traffic is brutal tonight. She’s been stationary for almost an hour, having long abandoned trying to listen to music, letting her thoughts engulf her. Accra is its usual hot and humid self and she’s grateful for a working AC in her car. Frankie better be ready, she muses, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about her chronically late but extremely lovable best friend she’s on her way to pick up.
December in Accra means a constant loop of nights that blur into each other, loud music, alcohol, drugs, 4am kebabs smothered in hot pepper, love and lust and people that have the power to devastate you. Her mind drifts and she remembers Ire, the memory gripping her without permission.
They’d met on a night like this last year.
That night too, the traffic had been awful. Osu, the beating heart of the city, had been choked, the roundabout a blinking circle of cars, everyone trying to make their way to something, itching to grab December by the waist and embrace it.
“This traffic needs to move, are you kidding me?” Frankie moaned from the passenger seat.
Mamaa smiled in response, “You’re complaining like you didn’t know what to expect. Patience, babe.” She tapped the wheel in frustration, “I shouldn’t have used this route, though, but it’s fine. It’ll move. What’s D saying?”
Frankie picked up her phone they’d been using to play music, cutting off Davido’s screams and peered at the dimly lit screen. “He sent a vn, let’s listen”.
“Yo, where are you guys? We just got in and the table is already filling up.” The girls winced at the message and the volume of the music in the background. “It’s loud so don’t call when you get here. Just text and I’ll come get you but like, hurry up!!”
They groaned in unison and willed the traffic to move.
25 minutes and an epic display of Mamaa’s driving prowess later, they’d made it to FrontBack. The private members lounge turned club had shot to fame the previous year and was now *the* place to be if you wanted to have a memorable night. They joined the back of the ladies’ queue as Frankie texted D. He replied instantly:
baby, i’m sorry but I had to stay at the table. sending my friend Ire, he’s here from Lagos till New Year’s. he’s cool dw. that’s him.
A grainy picture clearly taken in haste followed, a flash of white filling up the screen. “Look at something, Mams.” Frankie turned the phone in Mamaa’s direction.
She squinted to read, “Who?”
“His friend Ire. Can you imagine? We don’t even know him.” Frankie rolled her eyes, “D is so annoying when he does these things. There better be drinks waiting for us. This better be a good ass night”.
“That’s such a bad picture, how’re we supposed to make him out”, Mamaa sighed, rummaging in her bag and putting her glasses on. “Show me again? Let’s see if we’ll find him.”
They looked up to see a tall, dark and handsome figure clad in a white T-shirt pointing at them and motioning towards the front.
Frankie looked at the screen once more and held it up, confirming that it was him. “Well”, She laughed in Mamaa’s direction, “Maybe it will be a good ass night”.
“Frankie, please be serious.” Mamaa snorted, “D is right inside”.
“Yeah, and? I’m in a relationship, not blind. You better get in there, I’m not even joking. You need this. I need this.” She turned to Mamaa, eyes full of mirth. “Humour me”.
Mamaa let out a real laugh this time and grabbed Frankie, pulling her towards the front, as the bouncer directed everyone to let them through. The perks of knowing the right people never got old. They slipped past the barricade and Mamaa watched Ire pass the bouncer some cash before he turned to them and semi-shouted over the dull music, “Hey, I’m Iremide, but Ire’s fine”. He smiled, “David sent me. Mamaa and Frankie, right? He showed me pictures”, He paused. “But they don’t do either of you justice”.
“Oh, this one is a charmer”, Frankie responded in her fearless, casual manner.
Ire chuckled in response, eyes pinned on Mamaa, “Sometimes”.
She offered him a soft smile, “Hi, Ire”. She motioned towards the entrance, “Lead the way”.
He walked ahead, periodically turning to make sure they were still there. This was a crowd one could easily get lost in.
As soon as they got to the table, D stepped down from the seat he was standing on, pushed people away and flung an arm around Frankie, whispering what Mamaa was sure was an apology in her ear. She rolled her eyes in Mamaa’s direction making her grin. They’d be making out in a corner in 10 minutes. She realised she was still wearing her glasses and moved to take them off when she heard a low voice, “You should keep them on”.
She turned to see Ire standing dangerously close to her. “What?” She shouted over the music.
“The glasses”, He shouted back, giving her a heated look, “You should keep them on. They really suit you”.
She left the glasses on and cocked her head to the side, properly looking at him. He was mind numbingly attractive, that much she could admit, and he was looking at her with a kind of intensity she hadn’t been on the receiving end of in a long time. She was young and single and hot and for the first time in a while, interested. It was an easy choice. “Thank you”. She channeled her inner Frankie, “So, are you going to get me a drink or what?”
He laughed and leaned down to the table, grabbing two bottles and holding them up to her, “Brown or white?”
If you ask Mamaa what happened that night, she’ll come up short of words, not because she can’t remember what happened but because she won’t know where to begin. Shyness had escaped her for the first time. They’d danced all night, his arms hanging by his sides at first, until she’d grabbed them and placed them gently on her waist, his brows raising at her, a silent question to which she’d nodded, their bodies saying what they couldn’t.
After, she’d left a giggling Frankie in D’s capable hands and turned to Ire, his eyes twinkling. When they’d arrived at the AirBnB where he was staying, she’d waited for nerves to kick in, a semblance of anxiety, a sign that she was being completely reckless, not herself, something. Nothing had come and when his mouth had touched hers, they’d exchanged a soft kiss that bled into a hot, sweaty embrace and he’d had her. Something had snapped in that moment, and they’d been inseparable after that, the rest of that Christmas an extension of their first dance.
She and Ire, they’d been a whirlwind, there was no slow descent. She’d free fallen with her whole body, quickly and all at once, not just chemistry but alchemy – a transformative thing, unexpected and heady. Completely intoxicating. Until it wasn’t.
A honk snaps her out of the memory and a wry smile graces her face. She realises that the traffic has cleared a bit and moves until she comes to a halt. Ugh, she thinks, craning her neck to see better. The entire road is chaos and she sees drivers getting out of their cars so they can see what’s going on. She shuts off the engine and opens the door, peeking out lightly, only to hear her name from the car behind her.
“Mamaa?”
She whips her head around and it takes everything in her not to scream as the person approaches. “Ire?”
He stops in front of her, folds his arms in response and leans against her window. She pushes her glasses back so they sit on her nose properly and looks up at him. “Mams”, Ire repeats with more conviction, his eyes moving slowly along her, a smirk making its way to his gorgeous face, “It is you”.
Oh God, she thinks to herself, here we go again.