Starting over Again

Onome told Nnamdi where they were headed and he drove smoothly through the traffic. He put on the radio and the sounds of Bob Marley’s, no woman, no cry, floated in the air. Onome wondered if this was the song he whistled in his office. She turned to ask him about his music taste when he spoke.
“What type of music do you like, Onome?”
“I was just going to ask you the same question.”
“Really?” He looked amused. “Well, you know what they say about great minds.” He cast her a sideways glance, his face relaxed, looking more handsome than ever. “So, what kind of music do you like?” He repeated his question, seemingly keen for her response.
“Afrojuju and Fuji music,” Onome replied, her face warm with embarrassment.
“What?” Amusement glistened in his brown eyes.
“No joking. Sir Shina Peters, Pasuma Wonder, King Sunny Ade. I’m into all of them. I have all their CDs.”
Nnamdi burst into laughter. The sound was so rich and satisfying that it tugged on Onome’s heart. “Yes, I was part of that shinamania craze. I used to play that album from Sir Shina Peters every day in University, shaking my behind to Fuji music. My roommate tried to hide that CD from me many times to keep me from playing it.”
“I can almost imagine you dancing to afrojuju beats.” His tone was still shaky from laughter.