The waitress whispers her phone number into my ear.
I take note of it as I sip on my drink.
This piece is one in a Series. A list of all of the pieces in this Series can be accessed here.
I walk into the consultation room.
The doctor is working on a computer further away. She turns around on her chair to welcome me.
I sit on the patients’ end of the consultation desk.
I think there’s a UNICAF page on the computer screen.
“Hm, you’re working on some online courses?“
She tidies up on the computer.
“Yeah yeah. You know, as a doctor learning never stops.“
Hmm.
She gets up and walks towards the desk.
We begin to discuss.
The waitress whispers her phone number into my ear.
I take note of it as I sip on my drink.
It’s definitely been a while since I attempted memorizing a phone number in one go. Usually it didn’t have to be repeated so many times, before I was certain I had it.
When I initially asked the waitress for her number, she said it was against company policy.
Said she could get in trouble.
I told her she didn’t have to write it down or anything.
She could just whisper it into my ear while we discussed the drinks menu.
“I just feel like relationships in Lagos are all about money.”
“And the guy is the one who pays for everything.“
“Honestly, sometimes it’s not clear if you’re actually dating someone, or if you’re just hiring an escort.“
“I think it is absolutely ridiculous.”
I am expressing my disconcertion to the doctor, in the hope that she will empathize with me.
I am somewhat taken aback by her response.
“Everything in life involves expenses. If you’re in a relationship you have to spend money. Even if you’re getting married, you have to spend money. That’s just what it is.”
Ahhhh.
This woman has scattered everything.
It turns out she herself is a proponent of the unsettling asymmetry of financial responsibility, which seems to be the norm in Lagos relationships.
Ahh.
Nigeria is just an absurd place, with its very strongly patriarchal norms. Some people are fine with it. Some even like it.
I’m just very uncomfortable with the idea of taking responsibility for a fully-grown human being under such an agreement.
Like, why in the name of God would I want to burden my life in such a manner? Am I incapable of appreciating the value of spare money?
And here is this woman trying to make me feel like this is just the way life is. That I have no choice but to accept the way things are.
Ah, I need to travel.
I need to travel and reconfigure my brain.
The waitress is punching some numbers on the POS machine.
I am paying for the drink I had.
I am in a nightclub in Victoria Island. I’m seated by the bar, listening to the music and watching the pole-dancing women up ahead.
I give her my card.
She keeps punching the numbers.
At some point she says she’s adding a tip for herself.
I say Hmm
She says she’s tipping herself one thousand five hundred Naira.
Hahahahaha.
One Five.
A whole One Five.
It seems this waitress took some shots before commencing her shift.
Odindi One Five ni o fe fi se tip. A whole One thousand five hundred Naira is what she wants to tip herself.
At my expense.
Hahahaha.
She’s definitely tipsy.
I express my objection.
She begins to flirtatiously debate. Smiling and teasing and doing all sorts.
That’s the sort of flirting Lagos women know how to do. Flirting to collect money. Financially motivated flirting.
Nonsense.
I insist that I am not going to pay such a exploitative tip.
What rubbish. Where is the money.
She begins to renegotiate.
Part 2.
Image: Mojito somewhere.
Mayowa Osibodu's Blog. 