***
“Do you know why aliens have not come to our solar system yet?” Doyin asked with her eyes glued to the sky.
I rolled my eyes because I wasn’t into all the woke shit she was usually on about. “Why?” I finally asked.
“It’s because they read the review. One star,” she responded, looking hopefully at me. “Was that a joke?” I asked a bit confused. She nodded and that was when I laughed.
The exchange reminded me of the first time I spoke to her. It was induction night for the new 100 level students and my university was holding a club fair. For this event, it was tradition to let the final year students in different clubs like the Rotaract Club, Art Club, Red Cross Club, and other drug- free clubs throw parties to attract 100 level students. I was in 300 level, but I moved from hall to hall like a 100 level student trying to decide what club to join. The Art Club was throwing a stand-up comedy show that looked and sounded good so, it was in their hall I settled down for the night.
Their hall was the nicest I had gone into all evening. There was not a single balloon in sight, which was great because I hated balloons. Many of them were dressed up as different popular fictional characters like Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory. They were also surprisingly funny, and it felt good to forget about the courses I had to carry over. It got to Doyin’s turn and I was first taken aback by how pretty she was. The second thing that surprised me was how excited she was to get on stage. When she started with her jokes, it all made sense. Nobody was that pretty and funny at the same time. Some 200 level students started to boo her and practically chased her off the stage. I felt bad for her.
Outside the hall, there was a guy selling alcohol undercover in Ribena and Pet Maltina bottles. The University had been in its prohibition era ever since a few guys from the Rotaract Club tried to haze an underage 100 level student by making him chug an insane amount of alcohol. The poor boy was rushed to the hospital and was lucky to not have died from alcohol poisoning. I’m not sure what eventually happened to him, I just remember the night the news spread around school. The Dean of Student Affairs came himself to deal with the culprits.
After the show, I approached the guy and whispered, “I want to buy what you have.”
He laughed nervously, and then looked at the woman by the small chops stand to ensure the coast was clear.
“Do you want Ribena or Malt?” he asked.
I bought a bottle of Ribena which contained something I’m pretty sure was Black Bullet. My grades were the worst they had ever been since I got admission here and my parents were constantly threatening to kill each other. I think I deserved some escapism for the night.
I found Doyin sitting in the corner of the party hall, sipping something from a Pet Maltina bottle. I walked up to her because I felt bad for her and was unsurprisingly interested in listening to her lament about how long it took her to write the jokes she performed. At some point, I blurted out “you tried too hard. Jokes are not meant to be mathematical equations.” She cursed me out and left but I knew somewhere in my heart we would talk again. It was in the way she insulted me.
***
“Why do you want to be a comedian so bad?” I asked Doyin. There had to be a reason someone as dry as harmattan was trying so hard to be funny.
“My mother is the funniest person I know. She hustled in the US for years to make it in comedy. E no work. She came back to Nigeria and thought that her own people would at least get her jokes. It still didn’t work.
“Maybe she is just not funny,” I said, and she looked at me clearly hurt.
“I don’t mean this in a bad way. I really don’t. Comedy isn’t for everyone.” I rambled, trying to soften the blow of my first statement.
She shook her head. “So why does she make me laugh?” “Because you love her. She is your mother.”
Doyin smiled and asked, “Do you want to hear some of her jokes?”
I didn’t respond but she started talking anyway and it was at that moment I realized I was in love with a dry comedian.
***
The semester was coming to an end and the Christmas parties were lined up. I was ironing my outfit for the Red Cross Christmas party when Doyin came into my room excited. It was typical for Doyin to get excited over the most mundane things. One time, she came into my lecture hall gassed out of her mind and said she had something to show me. I followed her just to find out that we were heading to the tuck shop. The lady there had started selling some jam-stuffed bread that Doyin swore was the best snack she had ever tasted. I don’t like jam, but it was nice to see her enjoy it. She ate it so much, her tummy started aching.
“Why are you shining all the teeth in your mouth? What happened?” I asked, keeping an eye on the shirt I was ironing.
“It’s Christmas season,” she responded, her smile still wide. “So?” I asked.
“There will be Christmas shows in every corner of campus. It’s party season.” I was still not sure what she was talking about.
“I hope you understand when I say your excitement still doesn’t make sense because you’re not even a party person like that.”
This did not stop her from smiling very widely. I was afraid the sides of her mouth would touch her eyes. Doyin had mascara on, and it exaggerated the length of her already long lashes. I lost focus for a split second and almost dropped the hot iron in my hand.
“Well… this is another opportunity for me to book slots for stand-up comedy at parties.” My face fell. In fact, I frowned. “Book slots? Stand-up comedy? I don’t understand.” “What don’t you understand? I am a comedian, remember?” she asked, getting agitated.
I said nothing and hung the shirt I was ironing in my wardrobe, then I took out another one and started ironing it.
“Are you not going to say anything?” she asked.
“What do you want me to say? If you want to tell jokes, go and tell jokes nau,” came my response. A lot harsher than I intended.
“Why the sudden attitude? You don’t want me to do shows this Christmas?” she asked. “Doyin it’s not like I don’t want you to do shows. But you know how these things always end.
You’re always unhappy because people don’t like your jokes, but you keep going back. It doesn’t make sense.”
“So, I’m senseless?” she asked.
I dropped the iron and placed my hands on my forehead. Where did she get that from? “I didn’t say that,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You didn’t have to. I have spent weeks writing these jokes. You know how important this is to me. I expected you to understand.”
“Understand what? That you’re constantly putting yourself through mockery and pain just to live out a dream that isn’t even yours? Do you even have your own dreams?”
“I thought… I thought you were my friend.” Her voice broke. She looked like she was going to burst into tears any minute.
“I am…”
Doyin ran out of my room before I could complete my sentence. It was then I noticed the smell of burning linen.
***
It had been two days since Doyin and I spoke. I had called countless times and was starting to think she had blocked me. I texted her on Snapchat, but nothing. I even texted her on WhatsApp, knowing very well she barely opened the app. No response. I decided to go to her room. I needed to see her.
When I got to her room, the door was slightly open. I knocked lightly and when no response came, I opened it fully and stepped in. Doyin was sitting in the middle of the room with a notepad on her lap.
“I have been calling you,” I nervously said.
No response. Doyin kept her eyes glued to the notepad on her lap. “Doyin, please let me explain myself properly.”
That was when she looked up with her head slightly tilted. “What do you want to explain abeg?
That you are a mean person, and you just say whatever you like to anyone?”
“You know that’s not true. I am looking out for you. For example, those Rotaract boys are not nice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t come here saying things you don’t know.”
“I know this one for a fact, Doyin. I have had personal encounters with the final-year boys in Rotaract. They are not nice people. They will mock and bully anyone they don’t like.”
She hissed. “I don’t know which one hurts more. The fact that you think you can tell me what to do or the fact that you openly think I’m terrible at this comedy thing.”
“I’ve never hidden the fact that you’re not conventionally funny from you.”
“You literally laugh at my jokes all the time,” she said, overemphasizing the word ‘li-te-ra-lly’ “I’m in love with you. That doesn’t count” I blurted without thinking.
The room fell quiet, and I quickly walked out before we could address the elephant I had brought into the room. How could I have been so stupid saying shit like that?
***
It was around 3 am on the night of the Rotaract end-of-the-year party that I heard a knock on my door. My hand reached for the table lamp, and I turned it on. I went to open the door and Doyin stood there, tears falling down her cheeks. Her eyes remained glued on a spot on my forehead. The blue top she was wearing had dust all over it and her hair looked disheveled. I was unsure what colour her trousers were, but they looked like they had tasted dust too.
“Come,” I said to her with my hands wide open and she fell into them and sobbed. After she caught her breath, I closed the door and took her to the bed where she curled up immediately.
“Do you want to shower?” I asked in almost a whisper. She shook her head.
“You need to at least get out of these clothes,” I whispered again.
She sat up on the bed and raised her hands above her head. I gently took her top off and threw it on the floor. I went to my wardrobe, got an oversized shirt out and gave it to her. Slowly, in between sobs, she put on the shirt and wriggled out of her trousers.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” I asked.
She shook her head and said, “Just hold me.”
I covered her with my blanket and lay beside her, holding her as she cried herself to sleep.
***
Doyin was staring at me when I woke up. This startled me because her hair looked like a war zone.
“What happened last night?” I asked her.
“You were right. Those Rotaract boys were not nice to me.”
“Did they harm you? Like touch you? Because we could file a report at student affairs.”
She shook her head. “No, they didn’t. A few minutes after I started performing, they started booing me and someone kept shouting twerk for us.” She chuckled. It sounded sad.
“It wasn’t long before the MC dragged the microphone from my hand and asked me to leave. On my way here, my hair started itching. I was scratching it when this wave of frustration hit me. Well… I kind of lost it a little. I threw myself on the floor and just rolled there for a few minutes.”
I couldn’t help the laughter that escaped my lips, and she joined me. This time, she didn’t sound
so sad.
***
Doyin had other shows booked for the Christmas parties, but she didn’t attend any of them. She spent most of her time in my room. I knew she loved to play board games, so I bought a Ludo set and a Monopoly set. We played games with rules like the loser sings which always turned into a mini karaoke game. I made pancakes one Sunday morning and she enjoyed them a little too much that she made me make them every day for a week. I pretended I was tired, but I knew that if she wanted them every day for the rest of the year, I would make them. The evening before we broke off for the Christmas holiday, she confessed to feeling something for me. She just wasn’t sure it was enough to get into a relationship. So, we didn’t get into one. We just spent a lot of time together and on occasion, we kissed. It was the best Christmas of my life.
