Niyi flared his big brown eyes and folded his arms. "Boya o gbo mummy ye. Perhaps you didn't understand your mum. Babe, tell me you're joking," he said.

After having a seat beside him and crossing my legs, I shook my head in dismay. "I kid you not, my dear."

My mother had gone to Port Harcourt to attend a women's convention. It gave me ample opportunity to explain everything my mother told me. Our last discussion started as a lighthearted banter between mother and daughter. Even I would have never suspected the direction it would lead to.

I laughed without mirth. It was unbelievable but indeed a reality. Niyi gave me a sideways glance, and no doubt would have questioned my sanity if he were not who he was. "Ki lo n pa e l'erin? What is making you laugh?" he asked.

My laughter went from a small chuckle to outright cackling. Niyi put an arm around my shoulders and joined in. "Niyi, Is this a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare?"

"Either way I don't want to wake up alone," he replied.

I turned to face him and studied his handsome face. "But seriously, it's insane. What the actual heck? I thought my issue with Jagunlabi was over."

"And now—" he trailed off but sustained eye contact with me. His intense look showed that he could imagine my inner turmoil, and was treading with care.

"Now it turns out that Jagunlabi is or was so to speak, a real life person at some point. And he may end up being my step great great grandfather," I concluded.

Niyi hissed. "I don't mean to alarm you, but I doubt Mr Sesan meeting and dating your mother is a coincidence."

"I've come to the same conclusion. Just after mum mentioned his name, my golden dragon appeared."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I haven't seen it since the chaos of last year. It disappeared shortly afterwards, and my mum had no idea."

A gust of wind swept through the window and the curtains danced in the air. I got up to close the sliding door of the balcony and adjust the window. Night was fast approaching, and when I took a look outside, I saw a few stars in the sky. The street lights were on and the honking of horns in the busy Ring Road traffic could be heard from our window.

"Let me check on our dinner, dear." I said.

As I passed Niyi by to enter the kitchen, he gave me an affectionate pat. "Everything is going to be alright," he said.

"Sure?"

"Of course," he shrugged. "We're getting married. How could we entertain distractions?" Niyi got up and put his arms around my waist. He nuzzled my neck, and I giggled. "By the way, we haven't finalised the catering," he added.

"I really don't care. I just want to eat good food," I groaned and leaned on his chest.

"Se kin pe obirin pupa yen? Should I call that fair complexioned lady?"

I did not need to look back in order to see his face. His cheeky reference to the day he proposed was obvious, and I was certain he was smirking at that moment.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny, Niyi," I said.

He scoffed. "Not nearly as amusing as your jealous indignation when you turned up at the Town Hall. Did I ever tell you how hot that was?"

I attempted to elbow Niyi in the gut, but his lightning fast reflexes blocked me. He spun me around and kissed me with firm hands on my waist. "TenTen. Jealous Jelly Jelly," he teased.

"Fi mi sile jare! Leave me alone, my friend. I'm sure what Amaka told me was your idea." I loosened myself from his warm embrace and went to the kitchen. It was just in time to switch off the stove, and stir the efo riro vegetable soup. I had already prepared eba so dinner was ready.

After serving our food in two dishes, I placed them on the dinning table. Niyi poured fresh, iced mango juice in a large jug beside our plates.

"Any suggestions for my next line of action? I asked.

Niyi drew a seat for me and rested strong hands on my back. His fingers massaged my neck and drifted to my elbows. I purred with contentment, and hoped he would continue. After all, it only took a few seconds to put the food in the microwave if it cooled down.

"Looks like you're getting into it, but it's time to eat, babe." He went to his seat and winked at me.

I rolled my eyes playfully, and pouted. We shared a short prayer, and proceeded to eat our meal. The spicy aroma of the dried fish and locust beans filled the air. A comfortable silence settled in the room as we ate. Being intuitive people, our quiet times were often chances to reflect on serious issues.

An idea popped into my head. I drank a glass of water and cleared my throat. "Ife mi, my love—"

"Yes?"

"I can't tell my mum what I know about her partner's ancestor."

Niyi shook his head. "Nope. You shouldn't do that. She would panic."

"But Mr Sesan told Mum about Jagunlabi himself without being questioned."

"Beeni. Correct." Niyi agreed.

"If indeed Jagunlabi used paranormal forces to direct his descendant into my mother's life, he could have done it in secret."

Inspiration burst in my spiritual sight like fireworks. I could see a few pieces of the puzzle connect with one another, and a clock ticking backwards in front of a pile of giant books. Part of the mystery remained unsolved, but my joy at knowing in part was comforting. 

Niyi watched me with eyes glowing with love and pride.

"I think Jagunlabi wants me to know about him because he's trying to reveal something about the past." I concluded.

A loud round of applause startled me for a fraction of a second. It was the unseen multitude that initiated contact, and I was still getting used to them. The sound was deafening, and would burst ordinary ear drums. As usual, I remained focused on the matter at hand,

Niyi narrowed his eyes in deep thought and smiled, flashing his perfect teeth. He did not comment, but I was sure he heard it too. "It makes sense. I trust your instincts, babe.  A ma ni lati se iwadi. I guess we will have to investigate the matter."

"It won't be easy to find historical books records with details about a specific warrior of the Old Oyo empire," I replied. "It dates back to before colonial rule, and many archives were destroyed or stolen during the invasion."

Niyi leaned back and gave me a knowing look. "You and I both know that physical records are scarce and most history books have been white washed," he said.

"My dear, e o paro. You're not lying." I tilted my head and felt a surge of electrical charges under my skin. Each volt was strong enough to leave a lasting impression without being uncomfortable. "That's why spiritual libraries are better."

The electrical impulses gave me a hint who I would need to discuss with. The question was if he would give me audience.

Where do you think will Teniola find such a resource centre? :)

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P.S If you love the setting of this story, please check out Damilola's Diary. A contemporary romance set in Lagos.