*Fiction intertwined with reality*
Read PT 8 here;
V Let the Welcome Party Begin!
The night unfolded as the much-anticipated welcome party, where the OBS DJ promised to weave enchanting melodies for the eager Corps Members gathered in the hall. Tolani strode into my ‘hostel’, donned in the customary white shorts but defying convention with a white spaghetti strap in lieu of the usual round polo t-shirt. My surprise was evident.
“What are you wearing?” I asked Tolani, my expression a mix of curiosity and amusement, a faint grin playing on my lips.
“Why do you ask?” Tolani retorted, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes and a playful smile on her lips.
“And where do you think you’re going dressed in a camisole?” I questioned again, pointing to her top and gesturing with my fingers up and down.
“To the party, of course,” she replied, A sly grin danced across her mouth, full of mischief.
“Get ready to be stoned with this shanty shred,” I warned, and she grinned before retorting.
“Trust me, we’ll both have a bit of fun,” she declared with a mischievous laugh, dropping a matching white camisole onto my mattress. Her expression urged me to join in her playful scheme. “Don’t hold back; loosen up. Darling, remember, this is the NYSC Orientation Camp, not the town center,” she quipped, her hands moving in a comical sway, her eyes teasing me to comply. “Expose some skin now because you won’t have the luxury of doing so for the next twelve months when you get posted to your PPA,” she playfully added.
“Are you sure this is new?” I asked unabashedly, lifting the top to my nose for a sniff.
“I don’t dabble in Okrika (used) clothing items,” she retorted, rolling her eyes in feigned disgust. I returned her playful smile with one of my own.
A few minutes later, we headed towards the party ground. Glancing at my outfit, I reflected on Tolani’s influence, surprised at how she’d convinced me to wear something so unconventional for me. Since I wasn’t accustomed to baring much skin, but then, a small dose of a rebellious streak didn’t seem all that bad.
Entering the main hall, the gazes of guys couldn’t help but linger on us. Amidst the crowd, a guy caught my attention—his American-inflected speech hinted at a birth and upbringing across the ocean. Rumors circulated that he hailed from the United States, and his father held a prominent position in the state. Top of FormTop of FormEncircled by numerous admirers, he shot a wink at me from a distance and just as I was preparing to reciprocate, Tolani, who had keenly observed the exchange, subtly directed my attention while we gracefully approached the wall.
“That guy is actually a spoilt little brat from abroad, so don’t deal,” she cautioned.
I shot a surprised look at my friend.
“Is that coming from genuine concern or just jealousy?” I asked, holding her gaze, playfully demanding an explanation. She shifted uncomfortably and replied a bit too hastily,
“Yes,” she replied sharply, retreating and gracefully navigating through the crowd.
“Yes, I am jealous, or I am simply concerned!” I called out after her, pleading for further clarification.
“The former,” she replied without looking back.
“Girls,” I murmured to myself, smiling at how candidly my friend had confessed to her jealousy.
The camp commandant’s welcoming words brought the musical blast from the DJ to a halt. He was quick to provide a succinct overview of upcoming camp activities and a stern reminder that the event was meant for relaxation and not illicit endeavors. Thereafter, he exited with a handful of soldiers who had accompanied him, inviting us to the dance floor. Tolani and I sat in close proximity, gracefully deflecting dance offers from a slew of interested individuals.
A captivating presence dominated the dance floor, a girl who moved with unbridled enthusiasm to the pulsating beats. Just as it seemed like we might spend the entire day as spectators, Tolani leaned in and whispered something into my ears. In agreement, we swiftly made our way to the DJ’s booth. When the chosen song began, we both hurried to the dance floor, tucking our spaghetti straps into our fitted shorts. With practiced precision, we showcased the synchronized dance steps we had honed since our university days. The requested song, ‘Shake-Shake’ by Flavour, electrified the atmosphere while the crowd erupted in applause. On the other hand, a few jealous girlfriends shot us disapproving glances.
The track reached its finale, we gracefully exited the party, basking in the applause and leaving with an air of triumph. Giggles echoed through the night on our way back to our hostels, sharing laughter along the way.
Born as Titilayo Oladimeji, I have been known by the nickname Titipetral for nearly two decades. I am a Financial Advisor at a reputable financial institution in Lagos, Nigeria, with over 10 years of experience in Financial Advisory and Credit Analysis. I am also an author and the founder of Titipetral Publishers, a duly registered publishing company.
In addition, I lead the Titipetral Empowerment and Development Network (TEDN), a duly registered philanthropic initiative dedicated to supporting underprivileged girls, boys, women, and men in the Alimosho area, Nigeria’s most populated local government, focusing on serving the underserved.
For inquiries or collaboration, you can reach me at Titilayooladimeji@titipetral.com or titipetral@gmail.com.