Ko-Foe

Ko-Foe

The Story of a Nigerian, Muslim, Family in the New York Diaspora

A Novel by Lande Yoosuf

In Ko-foe, Lande Yoosuf masterfully explores what happens when a prodigal daughter of the Nigerian diaspora grows up on her terms in Brooklyn. Ko-foe is a brilliant debut from a novelist as multidimensional as the characters she creates. Fans of fast-paced television and reality show drama will adore this book. Watch out for the fire that emits from Yoosuf’s mighty pen. Her words will undermine even your most steadfast assumptions about success, womanhood, and what it means to be one in a family.

Melanie Beth Curran

Writer, Musician, Professor

Montclair State University

Once you pick up Ko-Foe you won't want to put it down. Lande creates dynamic characters that you are bound to resonate with.  She uses a Nigerian lens to tell a relatable story regardless of your background!

Alesa Andrew-Breuer

Senior Director of Operations, Digital Video

People TV! (A People Magazine Platform)

I was featured on the short film that led to this book & I'm ecstatic that more people get to enjoy the full length of this fantastic story. Read, enjoy, and thank you, Lande!

Gina Yashere,

Comedian, Actor, Television Showrunner

Bob Loves Abishola on CBS

’Ko-Foe is an insightfully funny and informative look into the lives of different family upbringings, traditions, and cultures. This is a book for the new generation of Black readers!

Lesley Martin-Nunnery

Producer

Red Table Talk on Facebook Watch

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 One Scribe Media

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, store in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic and hard copies of this novel, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

ISBN: 979-8-218-10624-9

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I knew I always wanted to write a novel and here I am! This experience has been gratifying, humbling, and nerve wrecking at the same time. My personal dedication and the will of Olodumare, my ancestors and spirit guides pushed me past the finish line of completing Ko-Foe, but I also wouldn’t have gotten here without the help of some very dear friends, colleagues, and family members, some of whom I have listed below:

Oladimeji Alabi – Also known as my beloved fiancé. You were my very first cheerleader and made me believe I could write a novel. Thank you for always pushing me towards greatness and reminding me that I am amazing. You are the best thing that happened to me, and I love you.

My Immediate Family: Mommy, Daddy, Yemisi – I know you don’t entirely understand all that I do professionally but thank you for always giving me the space to figure it out. You have contributed to my self expression in varying ways, and I wouldn’t be who I am without you. I promise that all the sacrifices you’ve made for me won’t be in vain. This book is evidence of that. I love you and thank you. 

My Extended Family: The Core Families and Beyond – You are the first to show up, last to leave. You’ve donated to my projects and offered support, resources, connections, prayers, and other grand gestures towards aiding in my success. My experiences with you all shaped my development as a Nigerian American woman. This story wouldn’t have materialized without your existence. I love you and thank you. 

Alesa Andrew – My business sister. We are kindred spirits, and our experiences repeatedly confirm this truth. You are an amazing colleague, an amazing friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. I love you dearly. 

Anoor Ajala – I am so proud of you. You are blossoming into an A-grade professional. The Ko-Foe book tour wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for your hard work. You’re doing an outstanding job!

Jasu Sims – My trusted publicist and friend. We have come a long way from our origins in the early 2000s. Thank you for working with me and being flexible with all that I had going on. You are thorough, professional and on point with all that you do. 

Abbesi Akhamie – What did I do to deserve a friend like you?! Your commitment to our friendship is forcing me to show up in ways that make me uncomfortable but continue to pave the road to my success. You’ve been nothing short of an angel. 

Lesley Martin – When I called, you picked up and didn’t hesitate to help me when you didn’t have to. I truly am grateful for your friendship, your support, and your kindness. I can’t wait for us to make the next hit series or film soon! Thank you. 

Gina Yashere – You are such a powerhouse and an inspiration. Thank goodness I casted you in Second Generation Wedding. I knew you were a big deal and would continue to become a bigger deal. Congratulations on all your accomplishments! I can’t wait for us to work on the long form motion picture version of Ko-Foe with you involved!

Melanin Magic – Adeola, Del-Ann, Lauren, Modinat, Del-Ann, Brandi, and Tanya. You all have made a big impact on my life in varying ways. When I was going insane and trying to rub pennies together to make this novel, you stepped up without hesitation. You show up at every event; you help set up, clean up, you donate money and resources when needed… thank you so much ladies for being there for me throughout the years. 

Jennifer Small – My play cousin! Thank you for your out-pour of resources, support, introductions, and connections. The Ko-Foe book tour was elevated because of you. I know you don’t think it’s a big deal to give so freely, but your generosity means a lot to me.

Professor Melanie Curran – My very first book editor. Your feedback convinced me I had something worth pursuing. You are an amazing human being, and I am beyond grateful for your support. 

Jessica Ambres – My second beta reader. I know you have discerning taste. Your response to my material fueled my desire to complete this book that was taking so much out of me. You are a wonderful friend and supporter of all that I do. I appreciate you. 

My Therapist Ms. Lola – Our sessions forced me to believe that I am indeed talented when many in the world attempted to prove otherwise. Working on myself with your help has been a game changer. 

Katrice Boland – I didn’t realize how much I needed a professional coach. Thank you for reminding me I am indeed on track, and complications along the way always have solutions. You are a wonderful soul and I’m so glad that you continue to assist me in gaining perspective on how I can truly achieve my goals. 

Mama Lynette and Baba Bill – Your guidance has been life changing. This book wouldn’t have happened without your advice. I’m clear on how to move forward because I met you both. I am grateful to have you as elders advising me on my path to actualizing the life of my dreams.

Black Film Space Screenwriting Accountability Group – Our group is designated for screenwriters, and when I declared that Ko-Foe is an adaption from a short film, my group cheered me on when I showed up for myself daily. Black Film Space means everything to me and has changed my life. I don’t know where I would be on my artistic journey if it didn’t exist.

Cast, Crew, Supporters, Screeners and Distributors of Second Generation Wedding– The short film was the starting point, and I wouldn’t be here without the existence of Second Generation Wedding. Thank you for seeing the vision of my project and being a part of my origin story. 

My Beloved Family, Friends, Supporters, Followers and Colleagues – Thank you for every call, text, email, like, repost, RSVP, event booking… I am overcome with gratitude from your encouragement. You constantly confirm the strong promise of my artistic path. I love and appreciate you all!!!

Ko-Foe

The Story of a Nigerian, Muslim, Family in the New York Diaspora

A Novel by Lande Yoosuf

Copyright © 2022 One Scribe Media

This novel is dedicated to the children of Black, African immigrants all over the world. I wrote this because I see you. Thank you.

Chapter 1

If I decide to marry you, will you learn how to make jollof the way I like it?

Kofo Adebayo curves her lips into a tight smile, sipping her vodka tonic while leaning on the bar. She glances down at the almost empty glass, realizing that she needs another one to get through this conversation with yet another nameless West African banker, doctor, engineer or lawyer. 

Kofo’s oval, chocolate colored, perfectly beat face scans the room while he rambles on and she finally spots her saving grace walking into the Holiday African Professionals Happy Hour—her childhood friend Janelle. They make eye contact, happy to recognize each other. 

Thank you so much for the drink. Kofo gently touches his hand and puts her drink down at the bar before making a quick move to her Jamaican play cousin near the venue entrance. 

He was cute. Janelle grins and nudges Kofo’s shoulder, waiting to hear another excuse to reject what seems to be a good catch. 

Kofo rolls her eyes. He was as flat as my drink. I’m hungry. Let’s get out of here.

Not until you find someone to get me a drink first. Janelle peels off her dark brown fur coat and lands it on a bar stool, revealing a perfectly tailored burgundy pantsuit with chunky gold jewelry. She looks expensive, which makes Kofo the better candidate for getting more spirits for the night. 

Kofo marvels at her gorgeous friend as she straightens out the feminine curls framing her face. Everyone always asks her what are you? when they are together. While insulting, Kofo knows that her Indo-African features mean more than just a racial quandary. Her beauty was indeed different and Kofo willingly shrank herself in her company to avoid resenting something they both couldn’t control. 

Janelle picks a piece of lime pulp off of Kofo’s full lips. Kofo loves when her friend shows interest in making her look just as good. She feels seen. 

You need a red lip, boo. Use those perfect lips and Nigerian cheekbones. That’ll make the bar busy for us. 

Kofo applies red lipstick that contrasts her smooth dark skin with ease, using her Chanel compact mirror. She straightens out her mid-sized afro, white silk button-down shirt, and camel-colored wool pleated skirt through a bar mirror. Her feet lit up a painful fire since changing into her brown knee-high boots in the Dunkin Donuts bathroom down the block, but it’s doing the job of getting male attention and adding inches to her slender, petite, frame. Kofo may not be stunning, but she definitely is a cutie. A sexy cutie at that. 

Before Kofo goes off to mingle, she feels a body hovering behind her. 

Hi ladies, her sister Eniola greets them, about to topple over with a heavy Louis Vuitton tote in one hand, and a Tumi computer bag in another. She drops her belongings on the floor next to Janelle’s coat and exhales loudly after taking off her black floor-length Ralph Lauren coat with gold hardware. 

Kofo turns around, raising her eyebrows. Ennie?! What are you doing out on a school night? Does Cedric know you’re here?

Eniola laughs and shrugs off the question. He’s occupied with long hours. And shouldn’t you be studying for your exams, Ms. Business school?, she quips.

Already did that earlier today, Kofo shot back in a high pitched, sarcastic tone. 

Kofo notices her sister is sweaty and studies her face long enough for Eniola to feel self-conscious. Eniola notes Kofo’s stare, and smooths out her worn out weave, gliding her palm along the greasy strands. Eniola is better looking than both her sister and Janelle with smooth, warm chocolate skin, feminine dainty features, and a perfectly proportioned body that most Black women in her orbit envy—they called her a dime piece on her block as teenagers. Kofo encourages her to wear form fitting outfits that will turn heads, and bring attention to her beauty. But Eniola hides behind a modest wardrobe and the conservative grooming style of her peer group that skews a few years older than Kofo. 

Janelle grabs Eniola’s hand, spotting a thick diamond tennis bracelet. The stones blare off of Eniola’s wrist, bordering into tacky territory. 

Oh my God!!! Did Cedric get that for you?!, Janelle squeals.

Eniola blushes out of embarrassment as the event-goers turn to the three ladies to discover the commotion. Eniola hides her hand, uncomfortable with all eyes on her. 

Shh! I want to surprise my friends with my new gift. Eniola gives them a pompous grin before searching for said party. 

Kofo side-eyes her sister’s unnecessary bragging. She hates her personality in this environment and remains quiet before her feelings become apparent. 

Eniola swivels her head to a group of young African women in a far corner, feigning complete confidence in her new trinket before grabbing her things and walking off. 

So, when are we finally going to Nigeria for Ennie’s wedding? Cedric sounds like a keeper, Janelle asks Kofo. 

Let’s complete our mission for drinks first. I spotted someone. Kofo sees a guy on the other side of the bar with a fitted, dark grey sports coat. He looks away once Kofo signals mutual eye contact. He glances again and her almond-shaped eyes pierce his with intensity. Kofo walks in his direction, seducing him with her smile and slender legs encased by her stylish footwear. 

***

These fries hit every single time, yo. Kofo stuffs a Five Guys fry in her mouth as her Brooklyn accent peaks through a more relaxed atmosphere. 

Janelle belches in response and they break out into laughter, ignoring the scores of drunk, young, professionals swarming them who also left Thursday night mixers in nearby West Village bars. 

I feel you’re looking for your Nigerian husband at these events. When are you going to really start networking, Kofo? Janelle twists her mouth to form a playful grin. 

Isn’t that covered by the high cost of business school? She sucks her teeth at Janelle’s question.

I know, but you should make solid contacts, just in case. It’s always good to get connects for a future pivot.

Janelle gets sloppy and takes off her red bottoms, crossing her feet in the bright red booth. Drunk Janelle amuses Kofo. She is a Brooklyn girl to the core—a fast talker, has a thick accent, is confident, swagged out, a hustler, and committed to a luxury lifestyle with a slight Caribbean flair. They met during the first semester of freshmen year shortly after joining the Black Students Association in undergrad at Stonybrook University. Janelle was the it girl, drawing the attention of horny, eager upperclassmen that fought over the new, cute face on campus. Her instant popularity made the women on campus jealous, but not with Kofo. They bonded over their indifference towards community peen, and their friendship sped up quickly. Janelle saw beyond Kofo’s jittery, inexperienced eyes. She inspired Kofo to bring out her inner vixen after many nights of them discussing their relief from overbearing, strict Black mothers who emphasized academic achievement at the expense of social skills or forming an identity beyond the voices of parental authority that took up much space in their heads. Janelle’s hooptie or The Long Island Railroad was their transportation of choice to shop at high end shopping outlets with their work study money, each buying mostly skirts, crop tops, short dresses and fashionable shorts to make sure they could borrow each other’s clothes despite their significant height difference. They were on a mission to upgrade their lives after being on lockdown as teens, longing for the lifestyles they worshipped on shows like Sex in the City or Girlfriends. If there wasn’t a party to attend, they spent time in their dorm rooms braiding or styling each other’s hair every other night. 

Kofo and Janelle extended their friendship, built on blossoming into women after graduation, but life is impeding their ability to spend as much time as they used to over the years. They made good use of the mixer for a much-needed outing, picking up where they last left off. Kofo longs for their college days on nights like this. She doesn’t have to choose her persona and can just be; other times, Kofo dabbles in and out of her Brooklynese and inner-city energy depending on the setting to avoid judgement of being seen as ghetto. Hanging out with Janelle feels like a reunion, a reminder of what made her who she is. 

An obnoxious group of white 20-somethings barge in, yelling about any and everything. A fighting, drunk couple trails them, and Kofo looks away in discomfort.

Fuck him, Kofo, Janelle responds before taking another bite out of her burger.

Fuck who? a male voice joins their conversation and slides into the booth next to Janelle as Kofo eats another fry. 

Her fuckbio ex. Janelle looks at the guy, signaling to Kofo her assessment of him potentially being one as well. 

Kofo inspects him and knows right away that he isn’t. He is just as fine, just as charming, just as good of a dresser, and smells just as good. But his earnest expression says differently. They convey what Kofo has been looking for what she couldn’t find in her twenty-eight years. He’s making her back tingle. 

We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead ladies. He reveals a megawatt smile with straight, white teeth that contrast his brown complexion. 

Wow, Kofo thinks, ogling at his perfect jawline that peeks out from a well-trimmed goatee. His broad nose aligns with his face, highlighting his perfect, symmetrical features. 

This is Janelle. Kofo gestures her hand to her friend, counting herself out. She’s used to it and typically meets guys when she is alone. 

It’s nice to meet Janelle, but who are you? Kofo expects him to steal a peek at her breasts or any other body part that will inspire the pursuit of a one-night stand, but he maintains focus on her face. It gives her an opportunity to stare longer into his inviting, almond-shaped eyes that glisten with tranquility across the table. She is connecting with what she is interpreting as kindness looking back at her. This form of seduction is unfamiliar to Kofo, intriguing her to know more. 

Kofo. My name is Kofo.

Do you mean Kofoworola?

Janelle frowns. Kofo-what?

Yes. That’s my full name, but everyone calls me Kofo.

They stare at each other for a few moments because Kofo cannot believe this man is also Nigerian. And British.

Do you want me to get you more fries, Kofo? We can share them.

Yes, please.

He gets up from the booth, joining the long line to grant Kofo’s wish for more fries. 

What’s your name? she shouts. 

He turns around to look at her and grins. Tunde. Babatunde, then focuses again on his task.

Kofo smiles, staring at Janelle with wide eyed, composed, excitement. 

Tunde returns, sitting next to Kofo this time. He looks at her, smiles again, lays napkins on the table, and uses his groomed, masculine hands to open the brown paper bag filled with fries. He does it with extreme caution and precision, as though he’s performing surgery. 

Let me tear that up for you. Kofo reaches her arm out to assist but he stops her with a with a certain head nod.

Oh, no… the grease hits better this way. Once you lay all the fries out, the oil to fry ratio is perfect.

They have Five Guys in London?

How do you know I’m from London? I could be from somewhere else in the UK.

Really? We’re doing this? You have a thick ass accent. Kofo grabs a fry. Don’t worry. I think you sound sophisticated. As she chews, something feels off. Where’s the salt?

Tunde grabs three packets of salt from his pocket, aligns them symmetrically, and tears off the top of each at the same time. He salts the fries in a circular motion.

I feel like I’m watching a magic show.

Tunde chuckles. My dad has high blood pressure, so I’m conscious of how I consume sodium.

Kofo raises her eyebrows, impressed.

So, what are you? Scientist or something?

Finance.

Janelle gives off a humph, throwing off their banter. 

Tunde stares back and forth at them both. What?

Kofo telepathically interprets her reaction. African men in finance are often Yoruba demons. His outfit is a bit demon-esque. He has on a black calf-length fitted wool coat with a fine gold link chain resting on a black turtleneck sweater, skinny black creased trousers and black suede Gucci loafers. The logo for his shoes is visible, but tastefully small. His attention to detail is apparent because it leaves people with the right impression he wants to express—that Tunde is a fly and he knows it. 

Yoruba demons are everywhere. Tunde maintains composure, giving a naughty grin on one side of his mouth, clarifying that he’s familiar with this kind of interrogation. 

Janelle leans into the table in his direction. How can my friend know you won’t lead her to the pits of hellfire? She and Kofo look into the pile of fries as though something is going to jump out, then tell them everything they need to know about Tunde. 

Kofo giggles at Janelle. 

Tunde cocks his head to the side, still grinning. I make no guarantees about how someone will experience me.

Kofo blushes, realizing that she wants to find out for herself.

***

The seats in the theater are hard and stiff, but Kofo tolerates the discomfort because it means she will get to know more about this new guy from London. What she’s learning so far is that he’s not as by-the-book as she thought. He’s twenty minutes late for the play he invited her to and now they won’t have much time to talk until the intermission. She isn’t excited to see a performance about a failed marriage during colonial West Africa, although they had several discussions about history during their long phone calls. She figured he assumed it would interest her because of their shared backgrounds, which she appreciates. As her mind continues racing on his whereabouts, hoping that she didn’t get stood up—Tunde slides right into the seat next to her. 

Hey.

Hey…

I’m so sorry for being late. I’m still trying to figure out these trains, even a year later.

Bizarre. He lives in