Creme DeLa Creme

Creme 5

CREME DELA CREME

CHAPTER FIVE

Back in the CEO’s office Ibrahim was having the time of his life.

He got bored of the magazines Fauzia had placed for him on the center table and decided to find something more entertaining. He went to scan the book shelves and stood in front of the one that didn’t look like it contained huge folders, blue prints and project proposals. There were a few novels on that particular shelf. He noticed school year books and company year books. A few notebooks and the likes.

He picked a secondary school year book and flipped through to graduating class pictures and profile but Maimuna was not there. He thought maybe she was in sss2 then and checked the class, there she was, Maimuna Usman Dauda in her uniform with that same innocent smile. She looked just the same. He stared at the picture longer than expected, imagining what kind of girl she was in high school. Probably had the same sense of humor and maybe some wit. There was no profile of hers, just the name. He tried looking for another year book but couldn’t find one.

His eyes caught a very girly pink and purple notebook. As he picked it up and opened the first page ‘Slum book’ was written boldly across the page in cursive handwriting.

“Exciting. “ he murmured.

He sat by the coffee table and began to read the teenage brain of Maimuna.

“She wanted to be an architect. Awwn how cute. This profession suits her more.” He said to himself as he flipped through the rainbow colored pages.

“Things I want to do before I die.” He read and burst out laughing. “’Skydiving?’ does she have no fear?..... ‘ skiing, travel the world, act in a play, record a song,...... ’ I guess she also wanted to be a star..... ‘Go on vacation with my kids, well that’s cute. Do random movie role plays with my husband in a foreign land........’Come how old was this girl? She’s got wild imagination.” he shook his head and quickly continue to brush through the book. He was so into it he didn’t hear Maimuna talking with her secretary.

She knocked and opened the door with a Salam. Ibrahim quickly stood up startled and hid the book behind him.

“I’m sorry did I scare you? I knocked though” she stared at him with her big brown orbs.

“N...ooo Nnn Nnoo.” He stammered.

She laughed. “You look like you’ve been caught red handed.” Maimuna turned to her desk and opened a drawer to bring out some papers. Ibrahim quickly placed the book on the chair and pushed it under the table.

“Yeah. I was just a bit startled. You know the room has been quiet before you opened the door.” He laughed nervously.

The thing with instinct is, it knows right from wrong. He knew reading her personal stuff was wrong but he just couldn’t stop himself. It was…..addictive.

“Please have a seat.” Maimuna said as she walked to the couch from her desk. He did the same.

“By the way, how was your trip? Last week you told me you were traveling. Hope all went well. “

“Yes. I had a life changing experience in a week to say the least.” He smiled reminiscing his time with his family.

“I hope it’s a good one.” She said as her stomach growled making Ibrahim look at her in a funny way.

“This is a bit embarrassing. Please ignore it. “ she grimaced and sat down mentally scolding her stomach.

“Have you eaten?” He asked as he took a seat.

“I will eat after our meeting. “

“Breakfast or lunch?”

“Break....”she paused. “Doesn’t really matter. I’m fine.”

“What if another very important thing comes up immediately after our meeting.” He asked seriously.

“If it does, I will probably just ask them to discuss over lunch.” She laughed it off.

“Then we can discuss this over lunch too.” He said in a concerned tone.

“You know very well this requires us to stay in the office right?” She said as she stood up to get more materials. Ibrahim brought out his iPad and placed it standing on the table.

“And you know I know that that’s your lunch or breakfast sitting over there untouched?. “ He pointed at the lunch bag sitting on the table behind him.

“Why are you so bothered about my stomach..” her stomach groaned angrily continuously for almost 30 seconds.

She covered her face in embarrassment and he smirked. “That’s why” he pointed at her abdomen. “Did you even have dinner? Just warm your food and eat while we discuss. Please. ”

“What of you? Aren’t you hungry? “

“I’ve eaten”

“Okay. But don’t laugh at the way I eat or my food. ” she warned.

“Why would I? And don’t forget this is not the first time I watched you eat.” He reminded her with a laugh.

“Right” she nodded as she recalled their breakfast meeting.

She pressed a button on her intercom and spoke out loud. “Vicky can you please inform Mr. Adebayo that we are about to start the meeting with CEO of NAN groups. Code name: Project Man Cave"

“Alright Boss. I’ll ring his office right away"

Maimuna nodded “Thank you"

She looked up from the intercom when she heard Ibrahim’s laughter. She raised her eyebrow in question.

“Project man cave?”

She shrugged as she proceeded to the table on the other side of the office. “We like to make things sound fun around here"

Her lunch was still hot in the food flask so she just served it on her plate. “Care for some?” She asked.

He turned to look at her from the couch. “Smells nice but thanks. I’m okay. “

She placed her plate of yams and beans pottage with three large kpomo (Animal skin) on a tray and a glass of water. She has a kitchen scissor specifically for this purpose, to cut the kpomo into tiny pieces so she can eat it with every spoon of food. She did the cutting on the table so that Ibrahim wouldn't see and think she’s weird.

She carried her plate to her office desk just as Mr. Adebayo made his way into the office. Him and Ibrahim exchanged pleasantries and they shook hands.

They soon proceeded with the content of the meeting discussing about the empty shop in her plaza he’s now bought. They discussed about how he wants the interior to look like and be transformed into a perfect man cave. Mr. Adebayo was taking notes and preparing a proposal for the project as well.

Intermittently, Ibrahim would take a sneak at her food and just wonder about random things.

The first question he asked her when she came with the food was “Is that Kpomo?”

She replied “Yes” in a duh tone.

“That’s a lot of animal skin. “

“It’s the highlight of it all.”

At the end of their meeting, he crossed his leg and relaxed.

“I’m sorry in advance if this offends you in anyway but why animal skin? ... I mean of all things ..?” He asked her.

She waited for Mr. Adebayo to exit the office before she replied.

“It’s delicious.”

“You know when it comes to delicious, there’s chicken, fish, beef even intestine that some find disgusting but at least they are nutritious. What does skin add to you? your life ..body anything. It has zero calories. Absolutely no protein. Nothing.”

Maimuna smiled. “Bro, that’s the gist. I love it. Personally, it’s delicious even though some people like ....you might disagree. And again it’s one thing I can eat as much as I want without worrying about gaining a few pounds of weight. Do you know how hard it is to find something you enjoy eating and it adds no number to your scale?”

Ibrahim nodded as something warmed inside of him. She just called him ‘Bro' and it sounded appealing.

“You’ve got a point. But it’s also good to know that you’re one of the people who have helped in reducing the number of animal skin we get to produce our shoes, bags and other animal skin products.”

She laughed and he joined her. “Sharing is caring.”

With that they ended their meeting. She walked him to the elevator and hoped to see more of him. They bid each other goodbye and the elevator doors close.

Awara, also known as Tofu is Ibrahim’s favorite Nigerian snack. He likes it especially when its deep fried in egg and is accompanied with some liver sauce by the side.

“This needs to be a full course meal in every Nigerian household” that was always his mantra whenever he comes across Awara that blows his mind. Which is almost all the time since he has only two suppliers in the city. His sister, Waheedah owns a small food business and Awara and sauce is one of the bestsellers on her menu. He is always sending someone over to her house whenever his cravings kick in. And sometimes he just goes there himself. Today was one of those days and he was already seated comfortably in Waheedah’s living room, a bowl laden with steaming moist Tofu and a sauce by the side were waiting to be devoured.

Waheedah stared at him suspiciously as she placed a Jug of tiger nut juice in front of him but he still didn’t look up from his cellphone. This was very unusual. In all the years that she’s known this man, he was not one to get distracted when delicious food was placed before him. Especially his favorite.

“Ya Ibbee" she called softly as she reached for the AC's remote.

“Din Din" he answered by calling her with her childhood nickname, his eyes still glued to his phone.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong at work?” she was genuinely concerned. He had that distant look in his eyes when he walked in.

Ibrahim looked up from his phone and smiled at her “Everything is fine Alhamdulillah. Why are you asking?”

She sighed and pulled the curtains close “Well for starters, you’re not one to ignore a plate of Awara because of something on your phone"

Ibrahim chuckled and placed his phone on the table, and before he could press the power button to lock it, Waheedah noticed he was on someone’s i********: page and it looked like it was a woman.

She gasped.

Ibrahim stopped midway as he was about to stab a steaming Tofu with his fork. He raised a perfectly arched brow at her in question.

She gave him a mischievous smile and shook her head in the negative before disappearing into her kitchen. Ya Ibrahim is stalking a girl on insta, interesting!.

Ibrahim enjoyed his meal with full concentration, taking sips of his cold drink occasionally and mentally thanking God for giving him a sister figure in his life like Waheedah. She was awesome, no doubt about that.

He finished his meal in no time and resumed pressing his phone. It’s been two days since his meeting with Maimuna but for some odd reason , he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He didn’t know what came over him, but one minute he was driving to work and he pulled over by the road, took out his phone from his pocket and went on i********:. It was not hard finding the official page of the MAUDE, but what was hard was locating Maimuna's personal i********:. He was lucky that her Assistant was tagged on one of the pictures and so he followed her. Unfortunately for him, the account was private. He had to wait three excruciating hours before she had followed him back and that was when he had the chance to thoroughly stalk her. There were a few pictures of Maimuna but none were tagged. There was no way to link him to her personal account. He searched her all over, but she was nowhere to be found. So he resorted to just visiting Fauzia’s page to check on all the pictures of Maimuna that were there, which were a lot. Fauzia adored the woman, there was no doubt.

“Yaya are you done?” Waheedah asked as she walked back into the living room. Ibrahim quickly put his phone away. He didn’t want her to suspect anything, if she wasn’t suspecting something already. That mischievous smile she’d given him earlier had caught him off guard.

“Thank you for the wonderful meal Din Din. Allah ya dawwamar dake a gidan Abubakar (May you live forever in Abubakar’s house)"

Waheedah laughed heartily as she began clearing the dishes. He always has something nice to say, or a beautiful prayer. Before she got married, his prayer was always for her to get a righteous husband. And now that she did, his prayer was for her to remain in this marriage forever. Could anyone be more sweeter?

“Ameeen Ameen Yaya.” She answered with a smile. He followed her to the kitchen and while she washed the dishes, he sat on the island and made small talk.

“So…” waheedah started as she wiped her wet hands with a kitchen towel “ is there something you want to tell me?”

Ibrahim eyed her from where he sat “We are not having this conversation young lady"

Waheedah made a face “C’mon Yaya. It’s been what? Three years? You gotta let some things go and move on"

“And who said I haven’t let things go and moved on?”. He was now giving her a piercing look which she hated.

She threw her hands about in an effort to grab all the confidence he’d just sucked away with that one look. “stop looking at me like that.” She said pointedly.

“Like what?” he smirked. He liked it when he throws her off balance and she loses the argument even before it begins.

She heaved a defeated sigh and threw the kitchen towel towards him. He caught it just on time. “Whatever. Just know that you can’t keep coming to my house and eating food like a lost child. Find yourself a wi….” The kitchen towel hit her square in the face before she concluded her sentence and she groaned. “Yaya….”

“Thank you for the food Din Din. See ya"

By the time she pulled the cloth from her face, the door to the kitchen had been shut and Ibrahim was nowhere to be found.

“Ya Allah" she prayed as her eyes welled up with tears. She said a silent prayer and continued with her chores. If only her brother will open up his heart and let someone in. There are so many good women in this world who’ll love him and make him forget all the hurt he’s ever felt. She prayed God will bless him with that kind of woman in his life.

Ten minutes was enough for someone to collect their thoughts, but it was too small for Ibrahim. He’d been sitting in his car for an excruciating sixteen minutes and only when he saw Waheedah open the front door of her house did he turn on the ignition and pulled out of the driveway. They’ve always had these arguments once in a while and they always end up in laughter. But today was different. Everything he’s bottled up came back like a hurricane. His head throbbed as he drove to his apartment.

His phone rang just as he parked his car in the parking lot of the apartment complex.

“Salam Alaikum Mama" he answered respectfully.

“Wa Alaikum Salam Ibbee. How are you?”

They exchanged pleasantries with his mother and she proceeded with the matter at hand.

“I hope you don’t have anything doing this weekend?”

He was planning on meeting Maimuna at the site, but anything for his dear mother.

“Not really Mama. What can I do for you?”

“It’s this meeting I have with our Ta'awun group. The dividends are going to be shared next week and you know your father’s doctor’s appointment is also the same day and I need to be there. So I want you to please represent me at the meeting.”

Ibrahim nodded as he alighted from his car “No problem Mama"

“I have to warn you though, it’s going to be boring. But since I’m part of the financing committee I can’t be absent without a representative. All you have to do is just to act interested and put in a vote for me okay?”

He chuckled softly. “Yes Mama. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Alright Ibbee. Thank You"

“So how’s Baba doing?”

They talked a bit about his father’s health as he made his way inside his bachelor pad. He dropped his keys on the console and sat on the couch. He took off his shoes and loosened the top buttons on his shirt.

He finally said his Salaam promising to call his dad and check up on him. After sending a quick email to Fauzia, he wandered to his room and got ready to take a shower.

By the time he was done, a delicious aroma was wafting from the kitchen. He quickly pulled a black Polo tshirt and white shorts on him and padded his way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Good evening Sir" Chef Moses smiled from the stove as he stirred something in the pot

“What’s up bud. How are you?” Ibrahim inquired as he opened the fridge. He grabbed a bottle of freshly made orange juice.

“I’m fine Sir. A package arrived earlier for you. It’s in your office”

Ibrahim raised his bottle towards the young Chef. “Thanks man" and with that he exited the kitchen.

The north wall of Ibrahim’s office is covered entirely in floor to ceiling windows which were made of crystal clear glass giving him the clear view of the greenery that was garden. A single desk with an apple desktop sat facing the windows. Rows and rows shelves adorned the wall adjacent to it. Most of shelves contained nothing but figurines and sculptures that Ibrahim had collected from the many countries he’s visited over the years. Singapore to Thailand, Cambodia to India, Copenhagen to The Netherlands, there was something on the shelf that represented something from somewhere. A few books were stacked up here and there, but Ibrahim hardly reads any of them. Most of them were gifts from his father, who was a scholar in his own way.

The package Moses was talking about was a box with the sss logo on it and the letters ‘spice bottles' written boldly on them. It was a gift for Waheedah. Two weeks ago he was at her place and he realised the spice bottles in her cabinet were mismatched. So he decided to buy her this 24 set of perfect spice bottles to ‘spice' up her kitchen cabinet. It was the least he could do for her for putting up with him all these years.

He dipped his hands in his pocket as he stared at the framed photographs that lined his desk. He had tried his best juggling two families for the past ten years. And now getting married meant he had to juggled three families now. Could he handle that? 

The soft knock on the office’s door interrupted his thought.

“Dinner is ready sir" Moses muffled voice came from the other side.

“Thank you Moses. That would be all"

He heard footsteps retreating before a door was shut.

Ibrahim sighed. It was almost time for Maghreb

He would pray first. Dinner would have to wait.