Tiana's Diary

Once inside my room, I made a quick one to the mirror. I was curious to see what Derele saw in me to make him kiss me. For the life of me I could not grasp why someone like him can be into someone like me. I stare back at myself at the mirror and could not recognize who I saw. When did I transform into this smashing figure staring back at me? Where was the lanky broad-chested girl? She was now replaced with a tall model shaped exquisite beauty. Her dark skin was tonned to a chocolate complexion. Her face had a new maturity and glow to it. It had to be the hair because I was really looking slaying. No wonder Derele was lost. I absently traced my lips remembering the kiss. I don’t know if I am to feel happy or scared; this is all too new to me and forbidden. Or how do a nineteen year old deal with a man in his late twenties? I haven’t stopped shivering since I entered the room. All afternoon and later that evening I avoided the sitting room and the compound all together peradventure I ...

It is a week today since I drove to school in Derele’s SUV. You guessed right that I avoided him in the weekdays that followed the eventful Friday ride. Typical of him, he disappeared in the evening of that Friday for the weekend. I remember watching him from the window of my room as he packed his stuff into the boot of his sport car. Next I see him focusing his i-phone camera around him; then I know he is video-chatting and Miss Toke is having a tantrum again. She is usually like that, wants to keep tabs on him like a watchdog. I can imagine her saying: “No, you aren’t in the mansion, in it? Lemme see the water fountain.” Or, “what car are you driving? Am so picking the car you are riding in. Lemme see what you are wearing so I can choose the car that goes with it.” I just hope he knows what he is getting himself into; from frying pan to fire. If his mother is crowding him then his girlfriend is a circus. Which begs the question where does that leave me? Maybe I am the watchdog. For...

Derele checked me out today for real. I caught him and he didn’t flinch or something, he just kept staring. He is sipping tea at the dinning and I am descending the stairs. Anyways I am dressed for lectures in the early hours of Friday and I am wearing my sleeveless gown. As I crossed the dinning to the kitchen after dropping my bag pack and sweater in the nearest settee. “Don’t you think that sweater is a bit too thick for the afternoon?” Thanks, but no thanks; I was pretty cold yesterday morning when I wore a blouse without my sweater. “You need a ride?” Thank God he is done at the dinning so I can do my thing. “No, thank you.” I said to his back as he marched to the door baring his suitcase in stride. After fifteen minute, I have salvaged his left over breakfast and managed to apply a quick makeup. I gathered my things, put on my sweater and I am outside only to see Derele beside his SUV. “What took you so long, are you going for an audition or lectures?” I don’t reply. It is ...

Time flew fast. My admission was final in June, I was offered my course Economics and everything seems to regain normalcy around the house even Mr. Pretty-face was not left out. He checks in every week days and checks out every other weekend. I guess that arrangement works with madam and the new chef. The new cuisine however was for my own benefit though; Derele would seldom eat at the mansion, mainly for dinner when Mr Kumuyi was not on his trips. Whatever leftover of the chef’s intercontinental food was for my tasting and eventual salvaging and trust me most of the food were trashed. Sisimi would not eat them not after she tried once and purged throughout the night. June 12, public holiday was on a Monday, everyone was home even Mr Kumuyi; which implied that Derele would make an appearance. I was assisting chef with the table-setting for dinner when Mr Kumuyi (Jr.) walked in video-chatting on his i-phone. His respondent on the other end was definitely the mysterious Miss Toke; I can ...

My first glimpse of Derele was a fortnight after he arrived. He did not arrive at his family home as Madam had anticipated but had gone to stay with his friend across town. I overheard from the staffs that he was staying with his girlfriend. Obviously, the day he decided to grace the mansion with his appearance, the aura of the homecoming king was lost on everyone. I was coming in from tutorials and had briskly walked in through the kitchen door when I saw him. He was of average height, from my vintage at the kitchen I can imagine we are of the same height. I am pretty tall and lean; maybe I should contemplate being a model. He is also slightly chubby, that chubby that is healthy and speaks of wealth not the offensive one. I cannot see his face well but he is in a dark suit and a brisk white shirt. Even though it was late afternoon, he looked like he had just dressed for the office. However, he did sound tired out and was definitely having a fight with madam. I could hear the tension ...

It was a busy day in the Kumuyi’s residence in Garki, tomorrow Derele is coming home or as Madam would call him Dele. I have not met him before because I came last year to work at the Kumuyi’s resident as the house help. Derele lives in the UK; when he schooled there he would usually come home for vacation but in recent years he has not visited. So I hear Mr Kumuyi is retiring as the chairman of the Coker’s group of company, a company which uses to belong to Mrs Kumuyi’s father and Derele is to take over from his own father. I have scrubbed, cleaned and decorated as I know how; even the staff has been reshuffled. Mrs Bankole also called Sisimi ceased to be the cook as a sharp looking uniformed chef, Willy was employed last week to take her place. “Dele will want an intercontinental cuisine Sisimi, white people don’t take African dishes.” Madam had explained gesturing with her thumb and first finger to indicate perfection. “But I can learn Madam.” “No, you assist Maureen with housek...