Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 17

Last week Saturday was my bosses' 50th birthday. I went with Dimeji, and everything was going on well. That was until Thomas, my cynical colleague barged into the scene.

Honestly, the day I get rid of Thomas from my life will be the day a major disease would be eradicated from this world. At this point, I can't even wait to stop working here, and go for my NYSC this November. He reminds me of a thorn in a rose, him being the thorn, and my work place being the rose.

Dimeji and I were sitting with some other colleagues of mine at the table. We had gotten to the party before Thomas, so he was not aware that Dimeji and I were together. And when he popped to the side of our table to say hi, Dimeji was caught up in a conversation with a female colleague of mine, sitting on his left side, while I was on his right side.

I must say that I looked really good. I wore a knee-length purple dress, and was rocking the pompadour style I had forced my medium length hair to adopt. Not the dramatic Elvis Presley elongated pompadour, but a really cute one.

After Thomas said hi to everyone on the table, he turned to me and said “you look good today.” I could imagine the smile on Dimeji's face, since I couldn't see his face directly. I rolled my eyes and thanked Thomas. And before I could count my lucky stars, the conversation degenerated into what you are about to read below

“But you realise you were just lucky with your hair this time, right?” He pressed on.

“Apparently, you don't know there are going-out styles for natural hair. I don't blame you since you know nothing about it, and are already biased towards natural hair.” I made the mistake of replying him.

I noticed Dimeji had adjusted himself. His interest had been piqued by the exchange. Everyone at the table was silent, and paying attention to us. They were already used to Thomas taunting me because of my hair, and even enjoyed watching us spar. At this time, I blamed myself for replying him, especially with Dimeji by my side. I should just have let it go, and ignored him. “Only God knows if Dimeji won't start thinking I’m a drama queen.” I thought to myself.

But it was too late. The devilish ball had been set rolling.

“C'mon. Don't give me that. You were just lucky. Now a man would see you looking good, and feel this is the way your hair looks all the time. Then he would get interested in you, and later be disappointed in future when he sees how your hair really is.”

Honestly, the way Thomas talked, one would think I wore my hair to work, looking like a mad woman. I took a side glance at Dimeji. I knew Thomas still hadn't made the connection.

I decided not to reply him this time, but he continued, and honestly, I wasn't surprised.

“You know your hair isn't about just you. If you were not so selfish, you would realise it’s also about ‘your man’, or other men that might have been interested in you.”

“Helloooo, if only you were as observant about other things as you are about my hair, you would notice that my ‘man’ is right by my side, and he is not complaining, you dumbo.” I wanted to scream at him.

Another male colleague of ours who must have read my mind, sneezed, but Thomas couldn't read the signs.

'You are not saying anything.' Thomas pushed. “You know I am right, abi?”

At this point, I couldn’t hold myself again. “My hair is all for me, and all about me. Not any man. If a man doesn't like my hair, then he doesn't like me, because my hair is part of my whole package. It's either he accepts it, or it's good riddance.” I snapped.

“So you are saying you don't want your ‘man’ to be physically attracted to you?”

“My hair is beautiful this way, and loads of men are already physically attracted to me.”

'Wow, they must be blind men.' He laughed out loud.

At this time, on behalf of Dimeji, who was now holding one of my palms beneath the table, I felt insulted. Did he mean Dimeji and all the other guys interested in me are blind?

“You are the one that doesn't have eyes to see what true beauty is.” I was really getting pissed.

I thought my other colleagues would interrupt and talk sense into Thomas's head, but apparently, they wanted to see it emanate into a wrestling match before they took action. And I wasn't going to give them the pleasure. I am not given to violence.

We heard the voice of the MC ask us to rise and sing happy birthday to our boss, since he was about to cut the cake.

'I guess you have been saved by the bell,' Thomas said as he grinned and strolled to his table.

I looked on with a straight face, and was glad not to see him again all through the party.

When the party was over, Dimeji and I were walking towards his car, we met Thomas on his way back from seeing someone off. He saw both of us, but I wasn't sure he put two and two together then.

Dimeji whispered to me. “Have you ever seen me being mischievous before?”

“What do you mean? You better don't pull any stunts o.” I warned.

“It’s nothing serious, just trust me.” He said, as he walked to block Thomas, who was by now almost near us.

“Hi, I'm Dimeji, Anna's boyfriend.” He stretched out his hands to shake Thomas’s.

'Ooh, are you serious?' Wow. I never knew.

“That’s because you are slow.” I thought to myself

“Yea, I figured that out, when you were talking to my girlfriend, back at the table.”

The 10 second awkward silence that followed might have been Dimeji saying, “So tell me, do I look blind to you?”

At that point, I was so proud of my ‘man’. Oh my gosh, I know it’s just been two months of relationship, bit I could so marry Dimeji this very moment. Who wouldn’t want to end up with a man who is not ashamed of her, and would stand for her in public?



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