Waka Pass Diaries (Hello, Security)

May 19

My uncle stays in an estate in Lekki, and no matter how many weekends I go there to see my cousins, the security at the gate will always stop me to ask me aggravating questions about who I’m going in to see and all that jazz. Heck, one time I’d just stepped out of the estate to buy stuff from a nearby supermarket, and minutes later, on my way back in, they still stopped me to pepper me with questions.

The situation had been gradually annoying me, and usually, I’d just heave a “Jesus, take the wheel” sigh and call any of my cousins from the house to notify the security to let me through.

Then last weekend, I was on my way to the house in Lekki. I was in a bit of a sour mood. I was marching toward the gate with determination, neither pausing nor hesitating the way someone who doesn’t belong here would. That had actually worked for me a few times in the past. Just waka past them with an attitude, and they won’t stop you.

But I was carrying an overnight bag, so it was kinda hard to pull off a haughty Naomi Campbell walk when you are busy adjusting the strap of your overnight bag on your shoulder.

And a security man halted me.

Remember when I said I was in a bad mood. Well, that mood reared its ugly head the moment I heard “Hey, stop!” I whipped my head around to fix the security man with a glare, flipped my weave-on back over my shoulder, and proceeded to read him. The way I was going, you’d think it was my father who owned the estate. “How many times will you people keep stopping me at this gate, eh? How many times? Can’t you mark my face? Is this face too hard for you to register? What nonsense is this? Every time, you’ll stop me to embarrass me with silly questions?”

I was in my element. I was pulling off my best Reese-Witherspoon, do-you-know-who-I-am act.

Before long, the security man was apologizing and telling me to not vex, that I should be going, that he’d make sure he and his people would remember my face from then on.

And he did. The next day, in the evening, I was on my way out of the estate for an errand, and an unbelievably chocolatey hunk standing by the gate in plain clothes, gabbing with the security, flashed me a smile as I walked past and waved at me.

I did a double take when I realized it was the security man I read to filth the previous day. Turns out, when he’s not wearing uniform, he is a seriously hot eye candy!

Good Lord!

And he waved at me.

He also smiled at me.

Lord, bless my soul!

My man-pussy was clapping up a storm as I waved back and very, very reluctantly continued my waka out of the estate. It’s this kind of temptation that will make somebody step out of his house at night to visit the security office to say, “Security ogas, I just said let me coman greet you people o.”

Written by Pink Panther