MOPE FASAKIN

“Look who we have here, bestowing her elegant gracefulness on us mortals!” Otunba announced with open arms as he descended the stairs, picking his words and raising his voice to a crescendo. It is no surprise that he raised chivalrous sons who are theatrical in speech. His two apples fell directly under the tree.

“So, we’re doing some team bonding exercise tonight.” Funke started to fill him in as she headed to the elevator “Return flights for everyone are scheduled for tomorrow to their various destinations. The guys voted to go clubbing, so we’re headed to Quilox in about an hour. I wouldn’t know if you’d like to come.”

“Yes, I did.” She chuckled. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you like. An intelligent, physically endowed, financially independent, ambitious, and beautiful woman. Just like your dad. But Funke is weak, physically weak. Almost physically challenged if you ask me…”

That was the complete package of a casually dressed Yoruba man. His smile flashed from when he sighted her and held steady as she found her way past security protocols to the waiting area. It delighted him to see her blush as observers trained their eyes on her and directed their gaze to him.