Lunch WIth Friends

Updated: Sep 30, 2021

Dear Africana Woman,

For the next few weeks the blog is going to take a different turn. For whatever reason I feel compelled to write a story. Please flow with me. I have been writing for quite some time. For those of you who knew me way back when, you may remember that in secondary school I used to write stories on single sheets of paper which would be passed around my classmates. By the way, this was an all girls boarding school and it was the height of Mills & Boon and the Harlequins of this world. I guess they never really stopped publishing the books. We just grew out of them. Needless to say I haven’t written an actual story in a LONG time. I would love for you to help me to build the characters. You can sway what happens to them next. I think this could be fun. Let’s try it.


Lunch in the Sky

She was late. As she crossed the lobby to the elevator her steps were almost a run. Ama drew many admiring glances in her direction as the onlookers took in her full figure and slim waist. She was tall in stature with 4C hair that she liked to wear as a big afro. Her cocoa coloured skin complimented the earthy tones of her dress, that was not too long yet not too short. It hugged her in the right places. Her red bottom heels made her look even taller. Finally on the top floor, she walked out onto the rooftop restaurant. She paused to look around for her party. There were a few people she recognised from ministers to CEOs and executives having lunch meetings. Then she saw them. Her two girlfriends, Nkonde and Mainza. They had been best friends since childhood. She started to make her way over to their table which was in a corner overlooking the beautiful city of Lusaka. Then she heard it.

“TAMALA!!!! We are here.” Nkonde screamed from across the restaurant. The girl was loud. She rushed over even faster to save herself more embarrassment. There was a flurry of excitement as the girls shared hugs and air kisses.

As Ama settled in her chair she said, “You know I hate it when you call me that.” When they were children the nanny who worked for Ama’s family, could never quite get her Ls and Rs in the right place. So she would continue to call her Tamala and for the longest time she actually believed that was her name. Now she just went by Ama but her friends would not let her live it down.

“I know you do. But you are late so you deserved it.” Nkonde teased. Nkonde was a petite, pine coloured skin and larger than life beauty. Wherever she was she always hogged all the attention, be it