Skip to main content

Paradise Street. Chapter Two

A novelist, a poet, a love coach, and a motivational speaker.



Peter I do not know why you allowed us to make this stupid move to this good for nothing Paradise street. I hate Lagos for starters! I feel dead . Everything is over now, everything!

Stop it Maggi, stop exaggerating. Your boss told you can work from Lagos right? So what are you fussing about, it’s even better you work from far away; at least those long hours and late nights with him is over. So stop complaining and help move our stuff in. We have been fusing around the compound for a while now, and we have a whole lot to unpack; and please Maggi for the love of God be careful with our wedding portraits! He shouted as he saw her dragging their wedding pictures like it were just some wood.

Oh please Peter who cares about the stupid portraits.

Are you saying you do not care about our marriage Maggi? Am shocked at what you just said!

No honey, am sorry my love. Feeling frustrated. I didn’t know when I said that, please forgive me. It’s not what I meant to say.

So what did you mean to say?

I told you to give me three years to stabilize my profession, but instead you pushed the wedding closer. And to make it worse, it wasn’t even a pajamas wedding! There were so many people present looking at me and I had to wear that stupid white dress your mother chose for me.

For God’s sake Maggi, can’t you appreciate anything my mother does? She chose that dress out of love, and I should be the one complaining not you. You have been so engrossed with your writing since our courtship, that you didn’t even have time to shop for our wedding. And after we got married, you neglected me and you have given no consideration to raising a family! But you know what Maggi? That writing madness is over! How can you even get pregnant when you stress yourself out with your writing? All those stress can cease your menstruation.

Oh please Peter! You are a computer programmer not a doctor!

Hello, hello, is everything okay here? A deep voice interrupted their argument. Peter gave a surprised look as he didn’t notice when three able bodied men walked in on them.

I am Ayo and these are my friends George and Emeka. He introduced. I can see you guys just moved in and judging from your properties you both have a lot of work to do here instead of standing and quarrelling.

And who are you again? Peter asked sounding rather too displeased.

Oh sorry we are your neighbors. Emeka answered for them this time around. I live adjacent to you and Ayo lives beside you, while George’s is next to mine. He replied in a rush, smiling rather too hard.

Okay hi. I am Peter and this is my beloved wife Maggie who is married to her books.

That wasn’t funny Peter. Maggie shot back at him. You are already drying our dirty underwear in front of our new neighbor’s.

It’s okay. I’ve got a dirty underwear dried in front of your house, at least almost in front. There lives my ex wife; we divorced some months back, and am sure every now and then she will come to hint you on how crazy I am. Emeka confessed; trying to make them comfortable.

Well sorry about that man; peter said smiling. I am a very busy person and won’t be around to listen to her gossip. I am a computer programmer. Extending his hand for a handshake for the first time. My company sent me down here to Lagos and am sure I will be here for two years; after that we just might move back to Abuja where we coming from.

You are welcome. George spoke for the first time and very slowly too.

Maggie replying slowly too; I wave thee with a palm like the palm trees on Paradise street. She said sarcastically.

Wow Maggie that is a nice line. You like poetry? Ayo asked sounding overly excited.

Like is an understatement. I am a born poet.

Wow Maggie, wow that sounds crazy! I am a poet by profession and a political activist. While Emeka is a novelist and George does articles and paintings. He hurriedly explained, so excitedly.

Oh my, oh my, you are so not serious! Tell me you are crazy, tell me Ay. Suddenly sounding too familiar and that displeased Peter.

Yes Maggie I am crazy!

Oh my God, honey did you hear that?

Peter smiled back at Maggie because she called him honey. He could count how many time she had called him that although being married for two years.

So what’s really your field of specialty. George asked trying to really understand what she meant by “ born poet''.

I do all George, all. Novels, poetry, drama, scriptwriting. All all; she emphasized like a genius.

I am wowed Maggie. At last a feminine touch! George replied sounding not too convinced.

Yes. Paradise street will rock better now with a female writer. Ayo sounding overly pleased. How about a discussion on a latest poem at my place on Saturday? Am just beside you. Pointing to the white bungalow next to Maggie’s massive new duplex Peter had bought from a building engineer for forty million naira just to impress Maggie.

The expression on Maggie’s face was one Peter had never seen before. From the day he confessed his love to her, to the day he proposed, down to when they both said; I do. And coming to when he flaunted this massive cream colored duplex to his beloved wife; he hadn’t seen her this excited, this happy, this overjoyed.

Maggie, calm down. He finally managed to say; hoping she would understand his displeasure of saying yes to Ayo's invitation.

Oh my God! Maggie finally gasped out after a long, mouth wide open expression. Honey you brought me to meet a company of writers? No wonder it’s called paradise street. Art is Paradise! Honey why aren’t you saying anything? Can’t you see my excitement?

Those questions brought Peter back to reality. The very one he has been running away from. The one he thought he left in Abuja. The very reality that made him talk to his superiors at work to transfer him down to Lagos, threatening them to resign if they didn’t. And because the young company felt he is so good to lose; another branch was set up here for him to manage for at least two years before returning to the head office where he is most needed. All seemed an effortless effort to change reality.

I think it’s great! He finally managed to say. But can we please resume our parking? We still have a lot to put in and arrange. The move in guys just helped with the heavy stuff; as you can see honey there is still a whole lot.

And that is why we are here! Ayo replied. The writers to the rescue! Let’s move, let’s move it. And that was how the others began helping.

Peter thought the female version of a writer was crazy. He had now seen crazy been spelt in this male writers.


© 2020 Jade George Anibor

Related Articles