A GOOD DAY TO DIE

“Something must kill a man!”

A wise Nigerian man

The most beautiful thing about the night was the moon and her stars. The way the crescent shaped lady adorned the night with her glow was ethereal. The stars stood all around her forming wonderful constellations. Unlike the sun, the light of the day, the moon was mild with her glow. She lacked the bright and hot ferocity of the sun. If anything, the light of the moon although dim came with a cool breeze that brought succor to the night and made the dark hours a perfect time to everything, especially every young adult’s favorite activity of the night, partying and sex.

Kamal opened his eyes as his six pm alarms blared in his ears. Yaba Buluku by D.J. Tarico and Burna Boy screamed through his speakers. He had purposely connected his phone to the speakers in his room before he went to bed by four pm. He groaned as he reached for his phone sitting on his side table and sighed when he could not reach it. Groaning even louder he rose himself up and grabbed the phone before he put the song off.

He tossed it on the bed and dropped back into the soft mattress to continue his sleep but only thirty minutes in Scatter by Fireboy DML shot through the speakers and into his ears. It was another alarm set for eight thirty, this alarm did the job of snuffing out every last bit of slumber within him. Although the setting of the alarm had been his doing, he was not very happy about the idea of waking up from sleep. Groaning he reached for the phone and shut the music off once again. This time he stood up from his lying position and sat and the edge of his bed trying to collect his energy, once he was filled, he stuffed his feet into his black Nike slides and arose from the bed.

Today was Friday, the time was eight-thirty pm and in the next two hours, he would be in one of the hottest clubs in Abuja listening to the hottest music, drinking expensive champagne, and feeling on the sexiest girls. That was the thing about Friday, it was the weekday of all weekdays because it was the day that ended the days of hustle and bustle and ushered in the weekends of chilling and rest thus it was a sacred day for the nine-to-five workers, students, and general hustlers.

As it stood Kamal fell into two of those categories, he was a hustler and a student. It was not easy running a food truck and balancing studying business but at this point, he had managed to maintain a three-point five cumulative grade point average (CGPA). His food truck was making him good money and he was hoping to expand soon, thus he was doing pretty well for himself, although his mother always told him there was room for improvement in school. He was in his fourth year all he needed to do was maintain that CGPA and he would scale through with a second-class upper.

Although it was his parent’s apartment in Gwarimpa, Abuja, he lived alone in it because all of his family resided in Lagos and lucky for himself, he owned a car. It was a sleek black 2020 Toyota Corolla, thus at the age of twenty-five, you could categorically say that Kamal was a ‘big boy’.

Ring! Ring!!

Kamal’s phone vibrated as the generic iPhone ringtone played. He exited the bathroom in his towel and shaving foam-covered face to pick up his call. It was Dafe a friend of his, one of his club buddies.

“My man.” Kamal said as he brought the phone to his ears.

“Bro, how far na.” Dafe replied

“Him dey awake.” Another voice asked in the background.

“Yes.” Dafe replied “Na Kudi talk say make I call you, say you love sleep too much you fit no wake up.”

Kamal chuckled “Una no well.” He replied “I don wake. I wan baff now ready.”

“Oya na we dey wait you.” Dafe replied “Make I beat Xander 5-0 for FIFA before you come.”

“In your dreams.” Xander shouted from the background.

“Xanny no fall hand oh.” Kamal shouted back. “Oya later na.”

“Later.”

With that the call ended. Kamal put on some cool Afro beat jams and continued to the bathroom, to shave and get ready. In addition to Kamal being what we Nigerian call a ‘big boy’, he was a semi-good-looking one. He did not look like a model or anything in fact among his friend group of five he came a close last in his facial features but Kamal had the body of gods. He had a small yet wide forehead with a heavy jawline, small cheekbones, and a mildly pointy chin. His nose was wide and pointed and his eyes were an almond shape with generically dark brown orbs within them. His lips were a dark brown with a pinkish tint on the bottom lip which began from within his mouth and stopped at the middle of the lip.

At a young age, he knew that his looks were not the sexiest thing and it was not going to pull the kind of girls he loved thus he decided to make his body his major attraction and he had succeeded. He had a lean figure with a broad chest and tight abs that showed through every outfit he wore. In addition, he had been lucky enough to land a good six feet in height thus Kamal was indeed a looker.

Once he was done shaving the outlines of his not-so-full but well spread-out beard Kamal jumped into the shower as he sang along to Wizkid and Buju’s Mood. It was his feel-good song. He danced in the shower as the cold water ran over his body, once he was fully washed, he exited the shower still enjoying his music he bobbed his head to the beat as he toweled off his body. His friends always made fun of him saying he got ready like a woman but if having excellent hygiene was being a woman then he did not mind.

After applying lotion and some beard oil, he had a mission to grow that beard before 2021 ran out, he went on to pick an outfit for the night. Kamal had a thing for dark neutral colors. He loved to look good but he did not fancy bright colors. Once he was dressed. he looked in the mirror…damn was he satisfied. He had opted for black jeans and a black shirt topped with a dark blue leather jacket. On his neck he had on a thick fourteen-millimeter silver neck chain. On his wrist was a silver swatch, a gift from his father and on his knuckles was stainless steel ring with fake crystals adorning its circumference, he had purchased that one from a street hawker on his way back from the food truck because it had caught his eye. He undid the durag on his head to expose a raven black mass of short waves. The finishing touch to every look was perfume and Kamal had the perfect scent. Anything made by Tom Ford made him happy.

“It is finished.” He muttered to himself as he admired his fit in the mirror.

He picked up his phone and wallet, stuffed them into his pocket and exited his home. Tonight, was going to be a good night.

***

Eni groaned as she scrolled through her contact list over and over again. She had no idea why she was stalling so much, there was only one person she truly wanted to call. The same person she had cancelled all her Friday night plans for.

What if he has plans? She asked herself. If he already had plans then her plans for tonight would be ruined. She touched on his name and the iPhone led her to his personal contact page. Eni looked up from where she sat on her bed into her large dressing mirror which hung right in front of her.

What are you shy about Eni? A voice in her head asked her You have scored influential men. Kamal should be a walk in the park. Except with the other men, they were Sugar Daddies and her only interest was money but with Kamal, he was her friend. Unlike most guys Kamal was pretty chill with her. They shared many similarities in music, movies and relationship preferences. While he preferred older women, Eni had preferred older men. Who knew that she would fall for Kamal who she was three months older than?

The sad thing was that Kamal only saw her as a friend. They had made a few sexual jokes from time to time but he had never tried to advance his words into action. Eni sighed as she fell back into her bed feeling like a coward. Even if she called him, how was she going to start? What words would she use to express that she was falling for him? Also, even if she told him she did not expect him to reciprocate not just because they were friends but also because of who she was. No normal guy would like a runs girl, Kamal’s friends who he loved so much would probably give him shit it he told them that he wanted to date her. Eni did not trust Kamal enough to believe he would stand his ground against them and stand up for her, not because he was a coward, no, but because he was a man. There was never a relationship happy ending for girls like her.

That is why you will fuck him this night and boot him. A daring voice said in her head. It was the voice that had first advised her that she would flourish as a Sugar baby. Three years down the line the voice had been right but sometimes she could not help loathing the voice and regretting her actions. What had happened had happened and there was no need crying over spilled milk. The matter at hand was Kamal and whether she should tell him how she truly felt or risk such a beautiful friendship for a quick fuck.

Fuck!!! The voice shouted.

Eni smiled as she looked into the mirror. Tonight, was the night, she was not going to wait anymore. Tonight, with Kamal was going to be a good night.