Neriv

“I will sha understand how to perfectly use a lip liner one day,” I said to myself as I moved closer to my mirror and tried drawing a black lip liner on my lips. I had learned the most stress-free way of accentuating my face without doing too much from Somebi Loe on YouTube—laying my edges, filling my eyebrows, and using a lip liner and lip gloss. For someone who dislikes stress in all its forms, I found the tip golden. I even thought I might have cheated her by not paying a naira to watch the video.

I quickly stood up to get a hairbrush from my drawer, realizing I hadn’t laid my edges. I glanced at my table clock and knew I had to hurry if I was going to beat traffic.

“Ololufe, iwo lokan mi yan, iwo ni ma ba lo titi ojo aye mi…”

I hummed the Christian song as I focused on getting perfectly laid edges.

“Sunshine.”

I heard God call, and for a second, I wondered if I hadn’t already spoken to Him this morning. I remembered we had a conversation, but I did more of the talking.

“Papa, we spoke this morning. Are we good?”

He chuckled.

“Why must it always be a question of whether we’re good or not?”

“Well, ‘cause you always make HS taunt me anytime I don’t talk to you.” I said, nodding at the sight of one of the edges I’d laid looking really good.

God chuckled again.

“Well, he’s only doing his job.”

“I hear you, Papa.” I continued what I was doing.

“So, I was thinking—”

“See, if you’re about to tell me to do something unreasonable… I’m sorry, Lord. But if that’s what this conversation is about, please count me out. You’ve made me do too many crazy things this week. I’m done, please.” I cut Him short.

“Humour me. You haven’t even started. But that’s not why I’m here today.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes. “So why then? I’m all ears.”

“I’ve been thinking… I would like to give you a gift. A gift of one of my sons.”

He paused.

“I’m not sure I got that, God. You already sent your only Son, Jesus Christ. So what son are you talking about?” I asked, a little confused.

“Okay. I want to gift you one of my sons who can replicate a fraction of my love for you on earth. In simple terms, baby, I want to send a man who would love you like I do. Even though not entirely, but you know what I mean…”

I dropped the tail comb in my hand and laughed loudly.

“God, are you being serious right now? I thought it’s you and I forever.”

I waited to hear His response.

Silence.

“Papa ehn,” I scoffed and shook my head. When I didn’t hear Him speak, I continued laying my edges. I was down to the last section when I felt His presence on my left.

“Papa, really? So you’re not going to say anything?”

“What are the things you’d love to see in the man I’ll be sending to love you?” He finally spoke again.

“God, I’m not sure what you’re on about right now, but you and I both know I’m not asking for too much. You know these things. C’mon, why act like you don’t? I’m going to be late for work, you know?” I said, perfecting the rest of my edges.

“This is my problem with you. You argue too much.”

He chuckled.

“I’m listening. Tell me everything.”

I sighed, loosened my shoulders like someone defeated, and rolled my eyes.

“Okay, fine. You win.”

“I always win,” He teased.

“I’ll only say 10 things. The rest, you’ll find in my journal or, best bet, collect them from my mind. Or best-best bet, just give me your best.”

“Okay. We have a deal.” He smiled.

“As you already know, he has to love You—entirely.

You know how I always talk about how safe I feel when I visit my parents, like I’m under some spiritual covering? That’s how I want to feel with the son you’re sending. I want to feel safe and covered because he’s made You his own covering. He should be able to pray for me and with me. A king, priest, and prophet.

Someone whose values align with mine. Someone I can build dreams with. Push each other forward to reach the zenith.

Someone who doesn’t feel threatened by his wife’s growth (because I’m going to be very great) or demean her gifts.

A highly intelligent and brilliant person, who can solve calculations (lol), to make up for my weakness. He must know how to handle money and be financially stable, because I will be too. It’ll make spoiling each other easier, ministry, business, and raising kids (BTW, just two—a boy and a girl).

He should have voices and authorities that speak over him. He must be accountable to someone way older, experienced, and grounded in all aspects of life.

Now, about love languages:

As much as I currently believe mine is acts of service (which I’ll expand on later), your son has to be good with words, both written and spoken.

I love to be affirmed. You know that, Papa. That’s part of how You got me to love You so much. I love reassurance—in every tiny detail: sticky notes around the house, emails, texts, calls. The little things. I love sweet names. Pet names. Things that gas me up and make my stomach flip.

I can’t be with someone who puts me down or subtly makes me feel less than. I can’t. I want someone who would love me recklessly, because I love deeply.

Back to acts of service: I can be hardworking… and lazy. Mostly lazy.

Sometimes I’ll sit in front of a screen for hours and won’t cook until I’m done. And by then, I’m too exhausted. That might explain my tiny body.

I can do things—but I can also be lazy. He needs to know how to cook, clean, do house chores, throw surprise meals, and do all that fun couple stuff.

In short, I like to be pampered.

Forget the bone face, you know I’m very soft. Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m the last child.

He must be able to contain my excesses and be very mature.

I don’t want someone petty. It won’t end well.

I have tendencies to act mischievously on impulse: dragging him off the bed, closing his laptop, touching his cheeks, tickling, pinching, random nonsense.

He shouldn’t get angry. He should enjoy it.

Because I’ll be writing books, movies, acting, and singing, he should love books and music too. He should be my default inspiration. Plus, he must understand when I need listening ears and when I need advice. A natural leader. Hardworking and smart.

He must have a fine face, God please. A kind I’ll never get tired of staring at.

Neat and organized. I can’t deal with a messy space. It messes up my whole system. You have it, God. That’s 10.”

I clapped my hands to signify that I was done while I kept staring at my face in the mirror.

“Honestly, baby, this list is so interesting,” He said.

“Even the things you don’t know you need in a man, I know everything. I know what’s best and good for you, and that’s exactly who I’m sending your way. Be on the lookout.”

“So why stress me, God? You do this a lot. You know all things, why do you always want me to talk?”

“Well, let’s just say… to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

He made a funny face.

By now, I was done laying my edges and brushing out my brows. I took off the scarf I’d used to press down my edges.

It came out sleek.

“So, what now, God?” I asked.

Silence.

I started putting everything I’d used for my face back in place. I sprayed another round of setting spray.

“Madam, easy,” God said.

“Thought You left.” I chuckled.

“I’ve said I’m never leaving or forsaking you. I am with you always, every time.”

“Awww. You see what I’m saying about words? I’m in love with you, Papa. I feel like hugging you right now.”

“Why not?”

“You know I can’t…”

“Come. I’ll give you a hug.”

I stood up from the dressing table and before I could say Jack Robinson, I felt a chill wind against my skin. It was so cold I got goosebumps all over. A tear dropped from my eye.

“You really meant it when you said You wanted to give me a hug, didn’t You?”

“I mean every word I’ve ever said to you. None of my words will go void. I am bringing each of them, all of them, to pass in due time. Trust me.”

“Thank you, Papa. I love you.”

I quickly dabbed my face with tissue before the tears stained it.

“Papa, I need to get going now or I’ll be late for work. Some of us can’t appear and disappear: we have to use actual transport…”

“You are mischievous, indeed. You just threw shade at your Father.” He laughed.

Raising my two hands:

“I didn’t mention anyone’s name. I only said some of us…”

I smiled and blew a kiss toward Him.

“I’ll be right there with you. Meanwhile, tell your boss that I love her very much.”

“Nah. Ain’t doing that.”

“Yes, you are, my darling.”

He chuckled.

“I love you, Sunshine.”