Good morning! Are you ready.” Sexy Jola called out to me from my bedroom window that Saturday morning when I chose to be one with my pillow. I actually thought I was dreaming not until Ada screamed: “Hello Evelyn, oya na, get up. It’s time for our ‘October Race’ or have you forgotten!”
“Oh-oh-oh! What kind of wahala is this?” I mumbled angrily and dragged myself out of bed from a beautiful dream of refreshing coconut water snack, while lazing on the beach. “I’ll join you guys shortly.”
I rushed to bathe, dress and storm out to find that Tinuola the geologist was already prepping the ladies with warm-up exercises in the field close to our estate gate. Tinuola, sister to Yemi, a colleague of mine, who just moved into our estate, was a restless marathon runner. Since she moved in every woman wants to be in shape like Tinu, after being inspired by her early morning exercise routines that involve 30,000 steps daily. She has always wanted to join the ‘Women’s Corner’ since she came; and had even mentioned it to Christabel the fashionista who suggested we start by having a joint exercise routine once every week, beginning from that Saturday morning. The house agreed, although I had my reservations. I had just added some weight in the right places, and I’m still relishing the euphoria but kept my thoughts to myself. They tagged it ‘October race’. There and then I decided against overexerting myself.
The time was 6am. I scanned the field for the ladies in attendance and found that Mummy Fawaz was missing – she had opted out the previous night – but I was shocked to see Mummy Judith with her bright green track pant and top with matching trainers. I saw that the ladies meant business: they were all focused on the routines. Reminding myself that Tinu was a professional runner, I advised myself not to overdo it.
As I drew near, I heard her say something about electrolyte, even as the ladies sweated it away; I joined the routine.
“Welcome Evelyn, it’s time to head out ladies,” she said, and then intimated us on a one-two-three jogging routine. She literarily made it rhythmic and the ladies followed suit.
“One-two-three… one-two-three … one-two-three …jog-jog-kick…ladies! Oya Tamara…one-two-three…go Stella and so on.” The ladies responded “One-two-three…,”accordingly. As we jogged past the main gate my eyes caught sight of Mama Yinusa’s shed which furnishes the estate with fresh corn and coconut. She was already setting up for the day’s business. I imagined what could be running through Christabel’s mind, seeing she had tried ousting the corn seller from that space as the vice chairperson of the estate union. Christabel says the woman’s waste constituted nuisance in the place.
Fast forward: after running some miles, taking short breaks in between, we returned home. It was about 7.30am and we were all tired. But just as we approached the main gate, some metres to Mama Yinusa’s shed, Christabel slumped. “Jesus…Jesus!” We screamed. “Let’s carry her into the shed, Mama Yinusa, get us some coconut water,” Tinu urged. We sprinkled fresh water on her which revived her. We heaved a sigh of relief and Tinu gave her the coconut water. Christabel asked: “Where am I?” “Mama Yinusa’s shed!” we answered. “What did I just drink?” “Coconut water.” And the rest was history.
