Written by Idayat Jinadu
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Say it again.”
Sigh. “I love you.”
“You hesitated; you don’t love me.”
“No, Mosebolatan, I didn’t hesitate. I love you, okay? Very much.” A kiss on the forehead.
“If your mother was drowning and I was drowning, who would you save first?”
“Bola! What sort of question is that? I can’t even imagine…seriously, why would you ask something like that?” Stands up, walks to the other chair that was lonely in its corner, sits on it, puts his face in his palms, and sighs. “I already said I love you. I love you. I love you! What more do you want to hear? Now you are bringing my mother into this?”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t make this about you. I only wanted to confirm your love. All you had to do was answer me. That you’d save me.” Swallows. “Or your mother. It would have been fine. But here you are throwing tantrums again. And you know I hate tantrums, Nifemi. You know I do.”
From across the room, Nifemi screams.
****
i
“Hello everyone, my name is Mosebolatan. Welcome to my podcast, Mose’s Basket. If you are new, thank you for watching, and please don’t forget to share. Today, I have a guest with me. His name is Nifemi. He’s a photographer and a designer. I know I told you guys I would be bringing Deji for this episode because of how much you all enjoyed our last episode. But unfortunately, Deji had other plans that couldn’t be reconciled with the podcast, so he recommended his friend Nifemi, who is as fun and special. So, guys, let’s welcome him! Hii, Nifemi.”
“Hii, Mosebolatan. I’m happy to be here.”
“Really? I’m glad to hear that. Today’s episode is about passion and how it fares in the face of demotivation. Deji told me you are a photographer, yeah?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Can you tell me how you got into it? How did passion drive you?”
“Alright. I realised I had a love for capturing people and objects when I used to take my dad’s blackberry bold 5 without his permission…”
****
ii
“Am I talking to Mosebolatan, please?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Hi, this is Nifemi.”
“Nifemi who? Am I supposed to know you?”
“Oh, I am Deji’s friend. I was a guest on your podcast a week ago. Do you remember me now?”
“Oh yes, I do now. You are the photographer, right?”
“Yes, I am.”
“How did you get my number, by the way?”
“Deji gave it to me. Is that cool?”
“Oh yes, it is. So what can I do for you?”
“Errm, actually, yeah, before you picked, the plan I had was to simply ask you to be my friend because since I met you, I have been unable to stop thinking about you. I like you. But now that I’m talking to you and with the way I’m feeling, I don’t think I want you to be my friend. What I want is for us to get to know each other and then date. Yes.”
“Oh, wow. This is so unexpected.”
“Yes, I know. And I’m sorry for hitting you with all that but I just have to say my mind. I’m scared and nervous, but you are also the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”
“Yes, yes, I know.”
Laughter on both ends.
“So do you want to hang out? At a cinema or perhaps get to know each other over an ice cream date?”
“The ice cream date sounds good.”
“Alright. I’m excited. Hmm, is this coming Saturday good for you?”
“I’m only free in the afternoon because I record new episodes for the podcast Saturday mornings.”
“That is perfect. I will meet you by 3 pm at Q.U. Ice cream. You know the place, right?”
“Yes, I do. I will meet you there.”
“Okay. Bye, Mosebolatan.”
“You too, Nifemi.”
****
iii
“Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with youuuuu, my Mosebolatannn.”
Laughing, “Oh my goodness, Nifemi. Don’t even think of singing as a career; just focus on your photography because what is that?”
“You are just jealous of my voice, my sexy voice.” Laughter.
“Sexy voice ko, your voice sounds like when frogs are croaking during the rainy season.”
“Oya, sing your own; let’s hear o ‘aunty best vocalist in town’.”
“What I want is for you to come over here and kiss me.”
“Say please.”
“Me? Say please? No. You will come over here and kiss me.”
“As I was singing with my wonderful voice, only fools rush in. So see me rushing to your lips, baby.”
“That’s my baby.”
****
iv
“Let’s watch The Graduate, Bola. I have been wanting to watch it since.”
“But I feel like watching What Came Upon Us.”
“But you have watched it several times before and I haven’t gotten to watch The Graduate at all. And if I don’t watch it now, work won’t let me for a long while. You remember the wedding gig I told you about, right?”
“I do. But if you love me, Nifemi, we will watch what makes me happy. What Came Upon Us is like my lifeline. I have watched it like 1 million times before and I need to watch it again because it makes me happy. If you love me, you will understand that.”
“I love you, Bola. You know that. But The Graduate is the first movie from my favourite actor in over 10 years. Let’s watch it together. I need to experience it with you because I love you.”
“If you say so.”
“I don’t like that tone.”
“Am I supposed to force myself to be happy because of your stupid movie?”
“What? Omo. Okay, okay, let’s watch your movie. Is that fine now?”
“Yes! You know I love you, right?”
Silence.
“Nifemi, you know I love you?”
“Yes, yes, I do. I love you too.”
****
v
“Nifemi, how much do you love me?”
“Beyond human reasoning.”
“Nifemi.”
“Yes.”
“Me or your camera?”
“You. And my camera.”
“I mean the same as a camera to you?”
“No, no, but you know how much photography means to me, Bola. I love you and my camera in different ways.”
“You love your stupid photography more than you love me?”
“What? Stupid photography? I don’t like that, Bola. I don’t like words like stupid, and most importantly, I don’t like when it’s used to qualify my photography.”
“Yeah. I’m sure if someone called me stupid, you would not tell them not to use such an insulting word to qualify me.”
“What? Bola, no. No. Where are you getting those thoughts from?”
“If I was drowning and your camera was drowning, who would you save?”
“Bola.”
“See, you can’t answer. I’m going home.”
“Wait, wait. You. I would save you, Bola. You know that.”
“And you know I love you too, right?”
Silence.
“And you know I love you too, Nifemi.”
“Yes, I do.”
****
vi
“Hey, babe.”
“Hi.”
“Hi? Just hi? What’s wrong, Nifemi?”
“Nothing, I’m just a bit tired.”
“Tired enough to not call me baby even though we have not seen each other in 3 days?”
“I have been busy. You know that wedding gig I told you about? It’s been keeping me very stressed. I’m just tired.”
“But I should be more important than that.”
“What? Are you serious right now?”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the stress too. I know how stressful Nigerian weddings can be. You are at home now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you angry with me, Nifemi?”
“No, I’m not.”
“But your tone is so cold and casual.”
“I just told you I’m stressed, Bola.”
“And I have said sorry. What else do you want?”
“See, I’m tired. Let’s talk later. I will call you tomorrow, okay?”
“But I want to keep talking to you.”
“Goodnight, Bola. Love you.”
****
vii
“Don’t scream the house down.”
“Ohh my god, yes! Yes! Put it right there! Ohh, yessss! Oh my god!”
“You like that, baby?”
“Yes, kiss me with those lips.”
“Anything for you, your highness.”
“Hmm, I taste so good.”
“Oh yes, you do. That’s why I glow. You are like the sun.”
“The sun.”
“Yes, baby.”
“So, me or the sun, who would you pick to light up your world?”
“Really? Bola?”
“Yes, I want to know how you see me.”
“Well, I can’t live without the sun. I also can’t live without you. So both of you are incredibly important to me. Both of you light up my world.”
“But I want to light up your world more. I’m the love of your life, right?”
“Yes, baby. You are. That’s why you shouldn’t worry about these things. I love you from the depths of my heart, okay?”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Aw, I love you too, my baby. More than I love the sun.”
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“No, I love you more, more, more.”
“I love you 1 million times over.”
“I can’t beat that.”
“I know, baby. I love you.”
****
viii
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Say it again.”
Sigh. “I love you.”
“You hesitated; you don’t love me.”
“No, Mosebolatan, I didn’t hesitate. I love you, okay? Very much.” A kiss on the forehead.
“Okay. So, if your mother was drowning and I was drowning, who would you save first?”
“Bola! What sort of question is that? I can’t even imagine…seriously, why would you ask something like that?” Stands up, walks to the other chair that was lonely in its corner, sits on it, puts his face in his palms, and sighs. “I already said I love you. I love you. I love you! What more do you want to hear? Now you are bringing my mother into this?”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t make this about you? I only wanted to confirm your love. All you had to do was answer me. That you’d save me.” Swallows. “Or your mother. It would have been fine. But here you are throwing tantrums again. And you know I hate tantrums, Nifemi. You know I do.”
From across the room, Nifemi screams.
“You just have to say you love me, Nifemi.”
“Who are you?”
“What? I don’t get the question. I’m Mosebolatan, the sweet girl you fell in love with and who is in love with you too.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I fell in love with a sweet girl, yes. But you are far from sweet. It was all an illusion.”
“No, I’m here with you in the flesh. I’m not an illusion.”
“I want to break up.”
“No, baby, you don’t want to do that.”
“I want to. I’m done. I don’t think I have the capacity to love you anymore.”
“You do, baby. I will just be a sweet girl. Is that who you want? See, I can be a sweet girl. All for you.”
“I’m serious, Mosebolatan. I’m done. I need to go. I don’t want to see you again.”
“I will kill myself.”
“What?”
“You don’t know? I was suicidal before we met and your love kept me sane. If you go now, I’ll kill myself, and it will be your fault.”
“What? What…what are you saying? You will kill yourself? You are a psycho!”
“Don’t call me that. I only love you. Is love psycho? Is it? I only want to love you, okay? I want you to love me too. Don’t cry. I’m the love of your life and you crying means you won’t see me and love me properly, like I love you. You know I love you, right?”
“Bola, you are not alright.”
“You don’t want to make me angry. The last time I was angry, I pushed someone and… I don’t want to remember all of that because I’m a brand new person. Your love made me a brand new person, Nifemi. And I’m not a selfish person, so I want you to know that I love you. I love you, Nifemi.”
“I…I love…love you too, Bola.”
“You don’t stutter. Say it with confidence like I said mine.”
“I love you, Bola.”
“I love you, Nifemi. It’s me and you till we both die.”
About the Writer:
Idayat Jinadu is a brand strategist and PhD student working on the culture of waste disposal and its effect on environmental security for her dissertation. She is inspired by impact and wants to create things that matter for people who need them to be free, liberated, and who they truly want to be. She is on the writing track for the 2025 Adventures Creators Programme.
1 comments On The Invention
“You don’t want to make me angry. The last time I was angry, I pushed someone and… I don’t want to remember all of that because I’m a brand new person.”
Madam! If this is your brand new dierrrr, then I shudder to think what the old you looked like. *insert wailing emoji* Normally I support women’s rights AND wrongs, but Bola must seek professional assistance. As for this dying, you go die alone.