SEYI’S P.O.V:
There are two kinds of men at weddings.
Men who are moved by the marriage. And men who are waiting for the reception.
I was both.
I had been awake since six that morning, which was already proof of deep friendship because there were very few things I respected enough to wake before the sun for.
Tunde Kabir was one of them.
By eight, I was in his room with orange juice, excellent intentions and several necessary questions.
He appreciated none of them.
“Have you had a bowel movement?”
He hung up on me.
Very rude.
Forty-five minutes later, I was standing inside his hotel room watching a tailor pull at his jacket while Tunde behaved like he was preparing for a board meeting instead of his wedding.
Flo was at the mirror fixing his cufflinks.
Kunle had already started solving problems that nobody had assigned him.
And Tunde was quiet. Not regular Tunde quiet. That man was naturally quiet. If silence were an Olympic sport, he would have medals.
This was different.
To continue reading, Upgrade your subscription.
Paying in Naira or anywhere in Africa? Use Selar herePaying in dollars or pounds? Use Stripe.