Dance With Me I

Lagos, Nigeria

June, 2007|

An exercise mat laid on the sparsely lit dance floor as a stereo played soft music in the background, Tasha Cobbs’ Grace. A lone dancer in black tights and a black top walked gracefully unto the dance floor, changing the song to Mercy Said No by Cece Winans with a swift move of her lithe fingers.

The music started and the spotlight shone on her lone figure as she began to dance. Her moves were almost heavenly as each seemed to pour out of her like rivers of flowing water. She danced with all her heart like it was the last time she’d ever dance and he watched her; mesmerized. The band that held her neatly packed afro puff gave way and full hair fell around her face like a curtain, giving her a more mysterious look. As the song reached its peak, Richard shifted from his hiding space in the shadows, speaking to himself in low murmurs while she was still oblivious to his presence.

Where have you been all my life?’ He thought to himself.

When the music came to an end, she finished her dance with a perfect split and light flooded the dance floor. Richard walked in clapping and she whipped around in surprise, staring at him for a few seconds before speaking. In those few seconds, she did a quick appraisal of the man standing before her. He was light skinned, slim and slightly muscular, clean shaven with brown eyes. If she’d learnt anything in all her years as a dancer, it was how to identify another dancer when she saw one and this man was a dancer.(MORE DETAILS)

“You scared me”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I have to say though, what you just did was amazing. Are you a student here?” He asked, still looking at her in awe. She blushed slightly but it was only for a split second, he’d have missed it if he had so much as blinked but he had seen it.

“You do know that only students and tutors are allowed in the dance studio, right?” Her tone mocked him.

“Yes.” Now, it was his turn to blush.

“Good. Now, take a good, long look at me.  Do I look like a tutor to you?” She huffed. “Do I even have to ask? Of course, I don’t.” If he’d thought her tone was mocking before, now it was flat out derisive. Her eyes moved round the room frantically as if she was looking for a way to escape.

He held his own although he could sense that her act was all in a bid to get rid of him. Why? He didn’t know but one thing he did know was that he wasn’t a fly to be buzzed off. “You’re right, of course. I just wasn’t really thinking about what I said. I was so enchanted by your performance.” He said.

“Like an addict?” She asked. The way her tone transformed to a teasing one was almost perfect; she did it like she danced, gracefully, effortlessly. If he didn’t know better, he’d say this was a whole new person.

So, she liked compliments uhn?

“Like an addict.”

“Hmm. I take it you school here too?” And just like that, the ice broke.

“Yes, I do. But, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new?” She bent to take off her dancing shoes and he couldn’t help but admire her figure. He caught himself just before she straightened up and answered.

“Yes. I moved from the Arts and Dance Academy in Port Harcourt some weeks ago. It’s my first day.”

“Amazing! Is that where you learnt to split like that, so flawlessly?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.” Her tone was turning chilly again and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.

“I’m Richard Nwankwo by the way.”

“Oluwanimoduroti Badmus. My friends call me Mo for short. It’s much easier.”


To be continued…


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