COFFEE HOUSE SECRETS

_{Designed by me with Canva}

From the newspaper office to Kofa’s Koffee is almost an hour. I’d say this because I’ve been sitting in this AC-less taxi for the past forty-one minutes. That’s what you get for journeying from one part of the city to another. I can only hope it’s worth the time, transport fare, and discomfort.

Hardly a minute and a half later, the car makes a turn and I check the sign board. Panacea road, it reads. I breathe a sigh of relief and drop my phone into my handbag.

I haven’t been to this part of town in a long time. There are better-looking buildings, even a branch of the Three Sisters Super supermarket, and the ride is bump-free. Thank God they finally fixed the road!

“Kofa Koffee!” the driver announces, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Okay, drop me.” I stretch my hand to give him the fare. There’s no need to wait for change. It’s exactly three hundred naira, so I step out and slam the door behind me.

Right there in front of me stands the coffee house in all its much-talked-about glory. The building is all dark brown brick, save for the glass spanning the entire front and the revolving doors. I nod subconsciously. Then someone walks through the doors and I smell the heady aroma of some freshly brewed coffee.

Mr Kofa was a civil servant working in the Ministry of Agriculture back in the day. Then, he suddenly resigned and left town. When he returned two years ago, he had become crazy about coffee. He opened up this place at once — although it wasn’t this grand then — and introduced all kinds of coffee, plus his own recipes. At first, people only came in their ones or twos. Soon, he couldn’t meet the demand. He had to keep expanding. Now, he’s added some pastries, although coffee’s still the main menu.

I’ve heard all sorts of things about his business. I’ve heard that sometimes, he just seems to know what a customer wants without their telling him. There’s even a coffee he calls the Heartbreak Cup that’s been known to cure a heartbreak or two, and sometimes heals different kinds of emotional pain.

He has delivery guys who take care of orders and vans that run major roads, but only one base — this one at Panacea Road.

Some people say he’s using juju. Well, the city has more coffee drinkers than ever before so I can understand why they’d think that.

Yesterday, I’d just gotten home from work when I got a call from Kofa’s Koffee. The voice speaking to me over the phone had an odd ring to it. Whoever it was told me that there was a big secret about Kofa’s Koffee that they were going to spill to me. So I should come over to the coffee house today for an exclusive interview. They wanted to remain anonymous. I’d know who they were by tomorrow, they told me. I agreed to it at once. It wasn’t like I was meeting up with them at some secret place. Here was safe. Also, I needed the story! This would be big for me at the newspaper house. I can imagine the look on everyone’s face when they see what I got. Now, I can’t wait.

I check my wrist for the time. It’s 3.58. We’d agreed to meet at 4. I send a short text saying I’m there. A reply comes up immediately. There’s an empty table in the enclosed spaces, we’re to have the interview there.

Once I’m inside, I find the place. It looks like some sort of workspace. They’re a couple of cubicles and all except one is occupied with people working at laptops. I enter the last one and sit. The chair is soft and comfy. This is nice, I think as I place my bag on the table. There are potted plants on top the walls and the space is painted a soothing shade of pastel blue.

A waitress comes and places a mug of some kind of coffee before me. “Someone sent for this to be brought to you.”

“Who?” I ask, but the pretty girl just smiles and goes away.

They’ve even done some coffee art with it.

The smell teases my nostrils. I breathe in deeply. It’s calming. I don’t take a sip though — I wait. Who was it that called me? Was it a friend or someone who wants to get back at Kofa?

“You haven’t taken a sip of your coffee.”

I turn, startled. There’s no one here so where did the voice come from? Uneasy, I look outside. I did hear someone say that.

“Look next to you on the seat.”

My eyes fly wide open and I look beside me with apprehension. At first, I see nothing. Then, I see it and my heart misses a beat. I freeze.

“I get that a lot,” it says with a laugh.

There’s a coffee bean on the far end of the seat. A breathing, talking coffee bean! Am I going crazy right now! Or is it the smell from the coffee? Jeez, am I hallucinating?!

“I’m Marco,” it says in a chill voice. “Nice to meet you, Allison. Kofa made promises he couldn’t keep. Now the whole world has to know about me. I made Kofa’s Koffee.”