Photo credit: Me, on one of the days I hung out with Mr A at V.I.

Don’t Talk to Strangers‘ Said Mum

Growing up, and right up to this minute, I always had that at the back of my mind. From listening to the footsteps of people behind me and slowing down my pace to let them pass, to using my side eye to observe people or things I don’t feel comfortable around. I’ve learned the art of being cautious, except that sometimes I let down my guard.

Knowing my sister, and how she might take this because she’s also a mini-mum to me, I’d just say, I don’t completely let my guard down, but I just let myself breathe sometimes, because if I don’t, I won’t learn.

On two of my “let down my guard days, I met two people. Both men, both older, like “can be my dad older” and both have at least a child. One has a set of twin, the other has a daughter.

Let’s talk about Mr A. first.

I met Mr A, on a very sunny day towards the end of 2016. I was coming out of Diamond Bank, very close to 1004. I was upset because I was having BVN issues and my bank wasn’t helping matters, so that day I wasn’t even ready to be disturbed.

When I saw him, I didn’t think much of him. He was the kind of person who looked forgettable yet memorable. He was well-dressed in a dark suit and wore a green ring. That ring haunted me on my way home because I thought all kinds of things about it.

Was it made of charm? Would I have ignored him? After all, I had a boyfriend, I would have just blurted that out there and then, walked away. I think I remember trying to call my boyfriend at that point to seem occupied, so he wouldn’t talk to me, but he didn’t pick up.

I gave him my number, not only because he was polite, but because I really didn’t want to cause a scene there on the road, as hot as the sun was.

Soon after he called me, and from then onward, we kept in touch. We didn’t plan to see after that day until sometime in November. I think it was my birthday, that year. I was so skeptical about it because although he didn’t look so old, the age difference between him and me was enough to make anyone ask questions.

Ageism. Yes, I was a victim of that. I wondered so much about what people I didn’t even know would think if they saw us together. When we got to the eatery, I had directed him to, I picked a corner, where people wouldn’t really see his face.

Throughout that time I was so uncomfortable. Especially because of the fact that he went ahead and wore native. While nothing extraordinary was happening between us, and I enjoyed his company and even learned things from him, I couldn’t help my thoughts from making me feel so uncomfortable.

The night finally ended, and we won’t see again, until two years after. Meanwhile, we spoke on the phone. I don’t particularly like calls, but I didn’t mind talking to him. For someone in his forties, he was jovial and very interesting. The best part was that he understood how to talk about things in a not-so-awkward way.

Two years later, we had survived about a year plus of silence, not even chats. We finally planned to see it.

On my way there, I met another stranger, this time younger. Maybe by one or two years. Minding my own business and reading my book in the Keke napep, he asked direct questions about me and the book I was reading, and in no time I was trying to guess his name as the journey slowly came to an end. Another stranger.

Being on Lagos roads always reminds me of how small and fragile I am, and that day wasn’t an exception. I knew where I was, but I still talked to someone for confirmation. Standing there and waiting for him to pick me up, I felt a pang of guilt wash over me. I still had some drops of ageism in me. I still felt a little bit uncomfortable about this whole plan, but I needed to talk to him about my business plan. It was his forte, and regardless I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

He finally arrived, new car and all. I forgot to look around to see if anyone had their noses up in the air in disapproval before I got into the car. He wore native again. Ugh, this man.

When we got to his office, he let me talk, while he listened carefully, and asked questions when he needed to and “hmmm” as a sign of approval, I suppose.

It was finally time to eat, and for a moment the ageism pang washed over me again because we had to eat out.

When I accidentally dropped my coleslaw and didn’t get any form of irritation or anger from him, instead he tried to make me feel alright by telling me how clumsy he actually could be.

I felt better, what exactly was wrong with me? Was it really the age? I expected irritated looks from vendors and cashiers, only to get nothing. Was I on the wrong planet?

Initially, our drive home was more of his exclamations and happiness of our reunion which led to him telling me about his daughter. The other part of the drive was filled with him drilling me with questions about my business and advice too.

We met again one more time, and that was it. He wore traditional attire again. This time he told me about his blood group, as the sounds from the radio filled the air.

We talked about religion, life, work, and other relevant and irrelevant things as he sipped his beer and laughed hard when he could. Something I noticed was that not for one minute did he make me feel not like myself, even when I told him about my hatred for regular office spaces.

The best part was that, my dressing. However I looked was never an issue to him. It was like he just wanted to connect with the person inside. Occasionally he called my name with enthusiasm. Gift!!

Slowly the sun was setting, and the place, his office, the environment felt a lot like home. I felt at peace. Mr A’s laughter was those kinds that would light up the room, and even though I had to wait for him to repeat some words because it was as if he had a hard time with some things, I knew I was right where I was meant to be.

In the Uber back home, I didn’t worry about people seeing me, or what story they had about me at the back of their minds.

I didn’t worry about ageism. Was I a hypocrite to be so relieved after such an eventful day?

Yes, I liked the fact that someone kept me in check with what I was doing with my life, someone was interested. But the ageism, what was I going to do with it?

All I know is that meeting Mr A was a blessing. From his kind words of advice, his gists , words of encouragement, and his lively laughter. In a million years, ageism would never be able to win the battle in my mind or take hold of those memories I made.

Love , E

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