Seams: The Next Decade - Episode 6
If you missed the last episode, you can check it out here
Lagos sunsets usually awed Kike but today, trapped in bumper to fender traffic on the Lekki-Ikoyi Bridge, everything seemed primed to annoy her. She’d tried to leave her last meeting an hour early so she could swing by the renovation site she was overseeing for Serracuse restaurant, but she’d underestimated how egotistical the man would be. He made lewd jokes at her, suggested she needed a man to take care of her, and tried to undermine her experience as a publicist/business manager. By that time they were an hour past what should have been a thirty minute meeting, she’d already lost control of the day.
Defeated, she’d let him talk for as long as he wanted, only to be rewarded by his disdain when she finally pitched him the idea she had for a new film project she wanted him to finance. According to him, his money was only for container shipments from China and Asaba Nollywood. Even now, the droning continued as she sat, immobilized by metal from all sides listening as Williams, her lawyer talked her through the potential lawsuit that could come from Panlam being dropped from the MTV deal.
“...Yes, I totally understand.” she agreed. “At this point Chibuzor Anagor is all but committed to doing the interview. Hopefully I can get her to retract her accusations before Basim Adiemen sues for defamation, but until then, this is our plan B, William.”
On the other end, William sounded unconvinced. “You need to have a Plan C, in the event neither of these ideas you have pan out the way you want. There is a lot of money banking on this, and the international investors we’ve been talking to Panlam’s behalf are watching this very carefully, it could make or…”
Kike honked hard as a warning to the car trying to cut into her lane and accelerated to close the space that had opened between them. Everyone was trying her today.
“...I know, I know.” She cut in, interrupting William, “for someone who is supposed to be my legal counsel and my business partner, you spend an awful lot of time shooting down my ideas.”
“And you pay handsomely for that.” William replied.
“Oh fuck off!”
William snorted. “If na by that one, I would never have practiced law.”
She lowered the car’s bluetooth speakers as a call came in on her other phone. It was the home line, and the number of people who had it was infinitesimally small. She checked to confirm and sighed.
“Babe, I need to go, like right now.” She said, “Adeola's school is calling me.”
“Oh wow. Is he alright?”
“I won't find out if I don't end this call, will I?” she snapped, her irritation rising. If William was offended, he didn’t show it.
“Okay, please tell me if anything happens. Adeola and the MTV briefing.”
“Sure.” Kike mumbled and tried to turn off the music that enveloped the car as Williams ended the call so she could switch over to the secondary line.
It ended before she could swipe, diverting to her voicemail service. The gridlock eased again, drawing her attention away from the phone. By the time she got her next reprieve, 20 minutes had passed and she was through the toll. She clicked to retrieve the voicemail message and sank into the driver’s seat as the Unilag Staff School principal’s voice filtered through the car’s speaker system.
- Hello, Mrs. Olasinde. This is principal Hanshaw from Unilag Staff School. The student liaison just informed me that your son Adeola still hasn't been picked up.
We would have sent him home with the school bus, but your husband has informed us he is not in the state and asked we call you to confirm there was someone at home to receive him before we sent him to yours. I will call back in 30 minutes to confirm.
Good day.
A second beep announced the end of the message. Kike clenched her fists around the steering wheel, her budding annoyance fully bloomed into rage.
“I. AM. NOT. A. FUCKING. MRS!” She hissed through gritted teeth and set course for the nearest U-turn to heading towards Adeola’s school. She punched the speed dial button and listened as it rang with the distinct caller tune she’d set for Saanyol. It rang its full course before it was finally answered, Saanyol silent as death on the other end.
“I begged you,” Kike began, “I told you well in advance this week would be shit for me. Saan, I should be on my way to an impromptu meet with MTV's reps, to sort out this mess with Panlam. So, why in God's name am I being called to get Adeola from school?”
“I’m sorry, it completely skipped my memory.” Saanyol replied, stumbling over his words, “I was supposed to call you and let you know, but everything has been so hectic that…”
She listened, feeling her rage only grow. This was familiar, all of it was familiar.
“Don't call me,” she cut him off in frustration, “fix shit. We talked about this, you told me you were fine taking a few years off to be a stay at home dad. Sometimes I feel like I'm a single parent.”
“Damn! Just listen to me first before you start jumping down my neck. You know I wouldn't call you if it wasn't serious.”
She took a breath to keep from screaming as she manoeuvred the car onto Osborne road. “Okay cool. Start talking.”
He obeyed, sensing a tiredness he’d not noticed before, harder to hide now that she wasn’t animated from screaming at him.
“Grandma’s lawyer called. She transferred power of attorney to execute my mother’s estate to him to since my grandmother started getting sicker. They need to amend some of the terms for the transfer of conservatorship for my mother's estate and since my father is still in the US on his annual medical check-up, I have to represent him...”
She zoned out, she didn’t consider his privileged problems a priority anymore. They’d discussed all the legal hoops his mother had set up around his inheritance very early in their marriage, but as something they’d have to deal with in their 50’s. They had been naive enough to believe they’d stay married and his mother would live forever. How wrong they were.
“...It's non-negotiable, my mother wrote that into her will, if I am deemed by the legal system to have shirked important responsibilities, the conservatorship will be extended by two years.”
“Your child is your most important responsibility.” Kike said with some malice. She was spoiling for a fight, but she knew he wouldn’t indulge her.
“My child has two parents, one of whom is in a position to care for him since I cannot.” He replied calmly, “I left you a dozen messages this morning, but you never check your phone. We are co-parenting, you can’t put your principles above us.”
She glanced at the car clock, she was 10 minutes behind Google Maps projected trip distance, but if she’d sped up she could still shave it off. It was his fault that she had to do all this extra work and she hated that he was blaming her for his miscommunication.
“Oga, please and please, don't make this about us, there is no ‘us’.”
“But it always is, isn't it?”
Just talking to him cranked the pettiness out of her. She knew it wasn’t his intention to rile her up and she hated how she responded to it, but couldn’t help herself.
“Raising a child with you is mostly inconvenient, but every now then, its a nightmare,” she spat, ”I thought I made peace with that part a long time ago, but you make regret it every single day.”
There was an unbearable pause on his end as she drove down Herbert Macauley in silence, her guilt bearing down as she sped past shoals of school children walking home.
When Saanyol spoke, he sounded deflated. “I promise, I’m not doing this to spite you.”
He paused, giving her a chance to respond. She drove, unwilling to engage.
“This might be the last chance I get to fix many of the shitty conditions my mother put in the conservatorship before he becomes a teenager and has to burdened with doing it by himself. I don’t want him to spend his teens and twenties being talked down to by lawyers.”
She drove through the gates of Unilag and into Unilag Staff School parking lot. Thankfully Adeola wasn’t outside, because she needed a few more minutes with his father. She killed the engine and took the phone off speaker, pressing it to her ear.
“The last time this came up, we were divorcing and your mom was dying. They asked me to sign off on a DNA test for Adeola, even though we all knew you were the serial cheater in our relationship. Your father humiliated me because he thought I was trying to use your son to get his money. I loved your mother but honestly every time you bring up her inheritance in conjunction with him, my blood curdles.”
“I don't know what you want me to say. I just want the best for him and her money will give him that.” Saanyol said, “His childhood shouldn't be as hard as your was, or as lonely as mine.”
It was familiar, this despair that clouded their serious conversations, she didn’t miss it.
“I..., you... You should have just fucking called me.” She said, backed into a corner.
“I’m sorry.” He replied.
It was one of the rare times where she could tell he was being completely honest. She ended the call without acknowledging his apology and wiped her face. She hadn’t realised she’d been crying.
“You should have just fucking called me.”
#
It took another ten minutes before Kike gathered herself. She left the contemplative safety of her car and made her way to the administrative block, where students whose parents are delayed were usually asked to wait. Adeola was sitting alone in the lobby, amusing himself with a rubik’s cube. The lights in the principal’s office were still on, but after everything else she wasn’t ready for another lecture. She snapped her finger to get Adeola’s attention and put it to her lips. He nodded, picked up his bag and quietly made his way to her. This wasn’t their first time.
“I'm so, so, sorry. Ade.” Kike said, pulling him into a hug, “Daddy didn't tell me I was supposed to pick you up this weekend, and terrible traffic delayed me.”
“Did you call Daddy? He's supposed to be in Abuja by now, he’s taking an evening flight.”
“We spoke,” Kike evaded, “he got there just fine.”
“Principal said I should make sure you see him before we leave.”
Kike glanced in the direction of the lit office and suppressed a shudder.
“Ummm... How about I see him tomorrow when I come to drop you off? We need to go, now.”
Adeola scrunched his face. “He'll be mad at me.”
Kike hugged him again. “Don’t worry, I’ll ask Daddy to call him later today.”
She led him quietly to the car and let him distract himself with the games on her phone as they drove back to the island, detouring through Obalende and Bonny Camp to her third and final meeting of the day at the Lagos Continental. He was quieter than usual but she forced herself to wait until he was ready. She knew it was time when he handed her back her phone as they waited in the hotel’s massive lobby.
“I got very scared,” He said, avoiding her gaze. “Everybody went home, even the last school bus. The last school bus has never gone home without me before.”
She knew what he meant. Because his school was on a university campus, the children got daily ‘Stranger Danger’ warnings and occasional drills about not leaving the premises after school alone or with a stranger. So far, he’d never been in a position that tested that theory. She didn’t want to find out what the alternative was.
“I know, and I'm sorry,” she replied, How can mommy make it up to you?”
Adeola gave a sniffy laugh. “Ice-cream.”
“Only?” Kike asked.
Adeola tried to hide his surprise, Kike was usually firmly against junk food. “Ummm... And pizza?
She gave a mock eye roll. “I should have guessed. We'll get ice-cream and pizza but mummy has to finish this meeting first.”
“For the new show and Aunty Panlam?”
She blanched a little. It was easy to forget he was old enough to eavesdrop on her conversations with Saanyol.
“Yes, sadly.”
“Oh okay. Since you’re in a good mood, Can I also get a phone?”
A sigh puffed out of her. “Where is this coming from?”
He met her eye and steepled his fingers, just like his father. It was clear he’d given what he was about to say next a fair amount of thought.
“I know daddy thinks I'm not ready but I think I am. I'm almost 8, everyone in my class has one. If I had a phone I could have just called you to come get me from school hours ago.
Adeola pulled himself out of his slouch, widening his torso like a cobra. “Daddy thinks I'm a baby, I'm not anymore. I'm a kid.”
“Fucking hell.” Kike swore under her breath, proud of his bravery but careful not to unnerve him.
He held her gaze, expectant. She’d given the whole phone thing some thought as well. She’d been planning a fancy celebration for his 10th birthday and had already settled on a flagship smart phone as her present to him. He clearly wasn’t working with her timeline.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a tall woman in a black leather jacket and tapered jeans make her way through ambling guests towards them. There was something in her gait that told Kike she was a woman who was used to wielding influence and…
“So?” Adeola prodded, touching her arm to get her attention.
“Sure baby,” she replied absentmindedly, the woman was almost within earshot. “I'll get you a phone once Daddy gets back. Even if he says no, it will be a small one, no internet but yeah.”
Just then the woman reached them and extended a manicured hand. Kike took a few seconds to boot before the realisation hit her and she grabbed at the woman’s hand.
“MTV rep?”
“Salome, in the flesh,” the woman said and helped Kike to her feet. Salome noticed Adeola rise and slither behind his mother.
“Who is this little handsome man?” she asked.
Kike pushed Adeola out from behind her and nudged him to shake the woman. “He's my son, Adeola, the concierge said it's against hotel policy to leave minors unattended in the parking lot.”
Salome laughed, the most comforting sound Kike had heard all day.
“No worries, I have three children so I know what it’s like.”
“He can spend 30 minutes politely seated if we have to meet elsewhere.” Kike offered.
Salome hunkered down so she and Adeola were at eye level. She put an arm on his shoulder, clearly enjoying how awed he was, taking in her beauty up close.
“Would you mind sitting in and being your mom's attaché for the day, make sure nobody messes with her while we talk?”
Adeola grinned, “I don't know what ‘attaché’ means but okay.”
She shook Adeola to seal the deal and led them to the open plan restaurant couched inside the lobby, pushing the menu to Adeola to order himself dinner while they talked. The boy looked to his mother for consent and buried himself in the menu once she gave the go-ahead. Salome watched, amused as he ordered an adult-sized tub of craft ice-cream.
“Single parent?”
Kike shook her head. “co-parenting with my ex-husband. Marriage didn't work out.”
Salome’s eyes shifted briefly to the light band of flesh on Kike’s left hand.
“That must have been rough.”
“Thankfully, it wasn't. A mutual agreement to part ways. And he's agreed to not work for a few years so I can pursue this. His parents are loaded so he can afford it. Or were, his mother’s passed.”
“Amen.” Salome agreed. “My husband and I have had to hire like a dozen maids in the last ten years, each one worse than the last.”
“The things I hear about maids give me nightmares. Saanyol wouldn’t allow it. He was raised by them.”
Salome perked. “Wait, Saanyol Terwase, of the Terwase clan?”
Kike’s eyes narrowed in response. “Yeaaaah... You know him?”
Salome shrugged. “I know his father, our dads used to mingle at Ikoyi Club. Have you ever been?”
“Not my scene anymore but I always thought the suya was great.”
“And cheap,” Salome added, “don't forget cheap. My father still takes me along, he insists that I meet everyone. It helps but it's infuriating that that even a casual mention of his name or influence gets me more respect in Nigeria than having worked my way to the top of MTV Africa.”
Kike glanced at the monogrammed portfolio in front of Salome, grateful once again she’d insisted on keeping her maiden name. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Salome leaned back, taking Kike in properly for the first time all evening. Then she smiled, cat-like. Adeola tapped furiously at his mother’s phone, his empty ice-cream bowl in front of him, oblivious to their exchange.
“I like you, and I know you have your head in the right place, but Panlam is making things very hard for everyone. West Africa is volatile for media investors, and my higher-ups don't want any unforeseen curveballs.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Can you get her to rein in this whole plagiarism thing?”
Kike reached into her satchel and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
“I have a whole multi-contingency plan to fix things as quickly as possible.”
Salome took it from Kike and put it aside without looking through. Kike was mildly offended by this but tried to keep her eye on the prize.
“I'd love to go through it all with you, but your son is already starting to doze off,” Salome said, and made a show of putting the sheaf into her tote. “I can imagine you both have had a long day, so I'll summarize. The big brass have asked me to give you a week, or they'll pass on Panlam. I'll give you a month. Please get her in order.”
It sounded as polite a dismissal as Kike could expect, so she took the cue.
“Thank you so much,” she said, rising out of her chair. “I’ll get everything sorted and update you.”
Salome rose and gestured for Kike to stay seated.
“Have some food, they’ll put it on my tab. And please try and sort this out, the whole project's future rests in your hands now.”
Kike watched as Salome wove her way to the exit. Heads drifted involuntarily in her wake to steal glances as she passed by their tables. Kike envied having that kind of latent power. She sat back and pulled the menu to herself, but not before she slid her work phone over to herself and speed-dialled a number.
Farhad Usman flashed on the screen.
#
The hotel she found herself in had nothing in common with the Lagos Continental. For one, it was tucked away in a residential street, and while the rooms were fancy enough, moving through the hotel’s darkened corridors felt like sneaking out of home as a teenager. Kike adjusted Adeola on her hip so his lolling head sat in the crook of her shoulder. He’d dozed off while they drove here and she didn’t want to leave him in the car.
She knocked on the door as forcefully as she could without shaking her son and took a step back as a groggy voice answered from inside the room.
“Who is that?”
She knocked again and waited.
Footfalls shuffled to the door and it creaked half-open. Panlam’s squinty face appeared in the crack.
“Farhad?”
Kike took that moment of confusion to push through the door and past Panlam.
“You’ve not been taking my calls, how long have you been in Lagos?” she asked, in a small cold voice.
“Yeah… I haven’t.” Panlam replied, ignoring the second half of her question. She was wide awake now and watching Kike intently.
“Do you give a shit at all?” Kike asked, “About any of this? Do you even appreciate that three years of angling, and begging and manoeuvring have gone into getting us this close to this deal?”
Panlam stayed close to the door, her eyes flitting between her phone and Kike.
“How did you find out where I was?” She asked, even though they both knew the answer. After managing her emotions all day, Kike could feel her rage boiling over.
“Who are you Panlam? Because this person who accuses a respected director out of nowhere then drops off the face of the earth so she can go around fucking her on-again-off-again boyfriend in hotel rooms is not you.”
Adeola stirred and Kike comforted him, glaring at her friend. Panlam used the window of distraction to cross the room and get her phone and a pack of cigarettes. She lit one and put it to her lips to hide the trembling in her fingers.
“Kike, you've known me for how long? I've wanted to make films since we were teenagers. I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past, and I’ve owned up to them. But this, was my decision to make. I have my reasons for speaking up now about him stealing my work. Trust me when I tell you this is the right time to…”
“Fuck. Your. Reasons.” Kike spat, “I don't want to hear them. I didn't come here to negotiate with you, or empathize. That's why you have Farhad. I'm here to make sure both our careers don't implode because you are having a crisis of conscience. I wanted us to pursue this plagiarism thing last year, you said no. I begged you, tried to force you, you insisted. Well now, it's too damn late.”
“Kike, just listen to me. This is more than…”
Kike put up a hand to shush her. She was loud enough to wake her son, but she didn’t care anymore.
“No, Panlam. You listen to me. My son asked me to buy him a phone today. He's only seven. I still remember when he couldn't raise his head himself. It feels like I'm missing his entire childhood so I can babysit you, Chibuzor, Saanyol, everyone really, and I am fed up with it.
“See, I don't have anyone to run to if this manager gig doesn't work out for me, and I want to get successful enough to take some time and actually be with my child before it's too late. Who knows, maybe even find love and have another one. This MTV gig is the big leagues, for you and me. But you, you will get many more opportunities at the big leagues. This might be my only one. ”
She walked over, took Panlam’s phone and punched numbers in and handed the phone back. Caller ID showed it was Chibuzor’s.
“So suck up your ego, and decide. Either you do the interview with him, and tell the world properly why you are doing this, now since you won't tell me. Or you withdraw your accusation. Your choice.”
“You won’t even let me explain myself?” Panlam asked, incredulous.
“The people at MTV gave us a month before they withdraw their offer for you to direct. Do the needful or lose my number.”
There was nothing else to say, so Kike turned on her heel and left with her son. She didn’t stop till she was by her car. Only after she’d laid Adeola in the back seat and clasped her seat belt did she allow herself sag into the frustration that had weighed down on her all month.
“Please call him.” she murmured a half-whispered prayer.
