Original subtitles

Previously on Bob Hearts Abishola...

KEMI: So this is what we do.

Chukwuemeka and I get back together.

And you have your happy son.

- So happy. - Mm. Then,

you and I will meet a series of women

to see who is fit to bear your grandchildren.

I can find no fault with this arrangement.

Kemi,

we have chosen Morenike.

You are a sweet girl.

You came here to study.

Do not jeopardize that.

- What do you mean? - This whole

Chukwuemeka situation is a lot more complicated

than they're telling you.

I just came to pick up a few things.

Two Clif Bars

and strawberry-flavored lubricant?

There was a sale on Clif Bars.

What is going on?

You are starting a new life, and so am I.

Hello, everybody.

Hello, Kemi.

This is Terrence.

We work together at the hospital.

How you doing?

Like your aftershave.

Smells like strawberries.

Morning, morning, morning!

Working, working, working.

Look at this from Chukwuemeka.

This is his 16th text this morning.

He also left four voice mails

in which you could tell he had been crying.

Poor Chukwuemeka.

I know.

[giggles]

Look. This one was from his mother.

GLORIA: Whoa. You got her in all caps.

- And she spelled "foul" wrong. - Mm-hmm.

How embarrassing.

Hmm. Terrence.

GLORIA: Wait. Terrence

- from radiology? - Yes.

I dipped my pen in company ink.

Well, technically, his pen in my ink. Ooh.

But I have hit it,

and now I will quit it.

[phone chimes]

Hmm. Morenike.

Hmm. The pretty girl is desperate.

♪ Block!

You cannot get rid of me that easy, Auntie.

Ten bucks on the little one.

I will get my purse.

["Ifanla" by Sola Akingbola playing]

I thought it would be better

if we spoke privately in my office.

Please,

pull up a tub of pickles.

Chukwuemeka is devastated by your display at church.

Which I'm sure was your intention.

It was.

And what is your plan now?

That he and I live happily ever after

and you go away.

Take a pickle for the road.

I am not going to do that.

You don't like pickles?

If you succeed in getting rid of me,

do you really think that will be the end of it?

- Yes. - So,

Chukwuemeka and his mother will suddenly

not want him to have children?

Yes.

Auntie, this will always be a problem.

Unless you find someone

who will marry him,

provide him with children,

and is still okay with him having his Kemi on the side.

And that person is you?

Yes.

Why would you agree to this?

Because my parents will not be satisfied

until I am married with children.

But men do not interest me.

I also find them boring, but what are you going to do?

Nothing... until I met you.

Then I realized

I could marry a man who gets his companionship elsewhere.

Hmm. You are only saying that because you have yet

to experience Chukwuemeka's companionship.

Again, that does not interest me.

Wait until you see him rise out of the bathtub

like a sudsy phoenix.

I am not tempted by his bubbles.

- Because he's not your type? - Yes.

- Because he is bald? - Because he is a man.

- A tall man? - Auntie.

I like women.

And apparently, short, hairy men.

And Friday is a federal holiday,

which means, legally, we cannot force people

to work, but I have other ways.

Just give the guys the day off.

Do not worry. They cannot trace this back to you.

Listen to me, Goodwin. No one's coming in on Friday.

That you know of.

All right, if there's nothing else, let's have a good day.

Oh, uh, actually, I-I have something.

Ugh. Mom.

Sorry. Continue.

I would like to discuss

increasing our social media presence for the company.

Ugh.

- See? It just comes out. - Yeah.

Research shows that brand characters

on social media are as effective today as Tony The Tiger

or the Pillsbury Doughboy were on television.

I loved that Doughboy.

Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!

Well, then you are gonna love this guy.

Meet Max. He's an irreverent,

straight-shooting compression sock

who loves nothing more than

to roast our competition on Twitter.

[as Max]: Hey, Sock Depot, you're cutting your prices?

Try cutting your inventory,

'cause it's trash.

[both laugh]

[sighing]:Ah [sighing]: Ah.

Christina, our customers aren't exactly Internet savvy.

That is our demo.

Hey, I know the Internet.

Wait. Is Facebook Internet?

That idea is like a foot in the other brands' sock.

[as Max]: It stinks.

[Goodwin and Dottie laugh]

Very clever, Mr. Wheeler.

Nice shirt, Goodwin.

I heard of casual Fridays, but not

"What the hell are you wearing Wednesdays." [laughs]

- I will change my shirt. - No.

No, it's just part of the bit.

Ah. Very clever, Mr. Wheeler.

A compression sock with attitude.

Now, that's an idea that would work.

That's exactly what I said.

Honey, it can't always be about you.

Now support your brother's - nice idea. - Yeah.

Listen to that looney broad.

[laughs]

Hello.

Oh, hey, Kofo. Mm.

You were brilliant in there.

Where?

In the meeting. Your sassy sock idea.

Oh, yeah, it was all right.

Bob made it better.

All he did was pull a sock off your hand

and put it on his own.

Yeah, but his hand is bigger,

so his sock demanded more respect.

Christina, your hand was perfect,

and your idea was perfect.

Christina?

Sorry. [laughs]

I am not used to being validated,

so my brain just had to reboot.

[chuckles]

Mine does that at the store

when they ask me, "Paper or plastic?"

Do not let your family treat you like that.

I too have been marginalized by a cousin I work with.

Oh. Goodwin?

I would rather not say.

Eventually I learned,

nothing would change unless I stood up for myself.

Yeah, well, that takes a very brave person.

You can be just as brave.

Oh, my.

Look at her Facebook page.

Not one picture with a boy.

Because Morenike is a good girl.

Or she's good with girls.

How could she be gay? She's Nigerian.

I don't think you understand how serious this is.

In Nigeria, it is illegal.

Oh, I see. It's outlawed.

That means it doesn't exist.

- Exactly. - Well, I have

certainly never met a gay Nigerian.

Because if anybody knew, they'd be arrested.

[sighs] Look, let's say for a minute,

you were gay in Nigeria.

But I'm not.

Hypothetically, what would you do?

I would flee the country to avoid prison, obviously.

You still need to hide it from your family,

or you will be disowned.

So maybe as a cover, you'd agree to a sham marriage

to a bald pharmacist with a horrible mother

and a crazy girlfriend.

That could work.

There you go.

There what goes?

Really? She's gay!

[laughs] Max is trolling Dr. Scholl's.

- Ew. What is that? - I said

Dr. Scholl's is diagnosing skin conditions,

and now everybody's sending him pictures of their rashes.

Ugh. That's disgusting. Scroll down.

Have Max say you can get high smoking their insoles.

[laughs] Is that true?

Who cares? It's all about the clicks, baby.

[knocking]

Good. You're all here.

May I address the family?

- Ugh. - Douglas.

What? I was looking at the rashes.

I just wanted to let you all know

that I'm not going to be here tomorrow.

Another one of your mental health days?

'‘Cause they're not helping, honey.

I am taking the day

to explore new employment opportunities

outside of MaxDot.

I feel I am underappreciated here

and would like to find

a place that...

values me.

Honey, you are very important to this company.

You're an essential part of this team.

You do so much for us.

Like what?

Huh?

What do I do for the company, Bob?

Lots.

Right, Mom?

She asked you.

Douglas?

I have no idea.

This is great feedback. Thanks.

Come on.

What do you really want here?

To be seen and heard.

I can't do that.

But I can do a new title.

Mom, you can't just throw money at this problem.

I didn't say money. I said title.

[door opens]

E kaale.

-E kaale, Abishola. - We are about to take a pound cake

to the new tenant in 206.

Do you remember what I always told you?

Ugh. Be nice to the neighbors when they move in,

and they will supply you with gossip for many years.

[laughs] If we feed him enough cake,

he will sing like a chubby bird.

[chuckling]

May I get you some tea, Auntie?

Ah. No, thank you.

Um, please, sit with me.

Auntie Olu told me you joined the church choir.

Oh, yes. The pastor said I sang "Joyful, Joyful" so well,

he wept into his stew.

Oh. That's wonderful.

You know, it's important to have the support

of the community when you - first move to this country. - Yes.

I am so thankful for it.

Then you should be very careful.

Regarding?

I know you are...

[whispering]: gay.

Don't worry. I will not tell anyone.

- I would appreciate that. - Mm-hmm.

I think you are smart with this whole Chukwuemeka arrangement.

It is the best way to protect yourself.

Yes, Auntie.

Ah. You know how traditional Nigerians can be.

It is better to keep it secret.

You think it is best I stay in the closet?

Closets are very safe places.

It is where I would hide if there was an intruder

or-or a tornado.

- Yes, Auntie. - Mm.

You remember Uncle Mobo?

- Yeah. - Mm-hmm. At first,

people suspected he was like you.

Then he got married, and all the rumors stopped.

Soon, he had a good job and six wonderful children.

- Was he happy? - Who knows?

Every time I saw him, he was drunk.

But he was a well-respected family man.

And that is what is important.

- Yes, Auntie. - Mm.

So, how is school going?

I got a "B" in chemistry.

Maybe that should also stay in the closet.

It is so nice to have everyone here together.

Is it? I still do not understand

why she needs to be a part of this.

It's not important that you understand.

It's important that I am a part of this.

I would like to make a toast.

To my Mumzy Wumzy.

To my Kemi Bear.

And to...

...you.

Morenike.

I know.

Thanks to you, I will soon have

more grandchildren than my sister.

How many does she have?

Only seven.

Only.

Oh. Okay.

Eh. Cheers.

- KEMI: Cheers. - OGECHI: I pray

that the children have your beautiful hair.

And my son's perfect cheekbones.

And my eyes.

I do not think that is possible.

You never know.

Maybe I could stare at your belly while you are pregnant.

- Huh. - OGECHI: I will name

the firstborn, obviously.

If it is a boy, Chidi.

Hmm.

If it is a girl, Ngozi.

I've always liked Connor.

Chidi Connor Chukwuemeka.

- It has a nice ring. - Mm.

What do you think, Morenike?

I cannot do this.

Well... it doesn't have to be Connor!

I also like Chad!

What exactly did you say to her?

Huh. The truth.

That if she wants to be happy, she should

never let anyone find out who she is.

That is excellent advice.

Why would she not listen to that?

Hi, Kemi. Can I offer you a drink?

Can you not see we are talking?

But, yes, a mochaccino with almond milk and a little nutmeg.

Really?

Yes, really.

Without Morenike,

I will have to do the impossible

and find another Nigerian lesbian.

Ugh. And they do not grow on trees.

What's this now? Morenike's gay?

Focus on my coffee, Bob.

Hang on. I mean, if she's gay,

why was she involved with Chukwuemeka at all?

To make her family happy.

And more importantly,

me happy.

If you ask me, if she doesn't want

to get married, that's her choice.

No one's asking you for anything but coffee.

I'm just saying, you got divorced,

you married a white American dude.

You didn't play by anyone else's rules.

You were true to yourself, always.

This situation is different, Bob.

What about you?

You date who you want, you say what you think,

you show up at somebody's house

demanding a mocha-freakin'-ccino.

Which, clearly, I will never get.

You're both strong women

who live your lives on your own terms.

Now, if you can do it, why not Morenike?

Because she's a Nigerian gay.

- And she's the only one. - BOB: Oh, come on.

That can't be...

She's the only one!

What the hell is that?

CHRISTINA: My resignation letter.

You want to talk about it?

God, no. That's why I wrote you the letter.

Come in here.

God. Can we not make a big thing out of this?

It is a big thing. You're quitting the family business.

No, I am exploring new and exciting opportunities.

What opportunities?

I don't know yet.

But I know they are new and exciting.

Well, maybe just stay on until you figure it out.

[sighs] Let's be honest.

I don't think I'll ever figure it out.

And if I don't leave now, I-I don't think I ever will.

Well...

then you got to go.

You're accepting my letter of resignation?

No. I'm accepting your

"exploration of new and exciting opportunities."

Thanks, Bob.

This feels good.

And really, really scary.

You're gonna do great.

Thanks.

I'm gonna go tell Mom.

Okay.

[sighs]

DOTTIE: Are you insane?! You'll die out there!

Hello, Morenike. Kaasan.

Hello, Aunties.

I threatened you.

- What? - This is your cover story.

I threatened you, and this is why you left our arrangement.

There were no other personal reasons.

No need to mention your... lesbian-ity.

Although, it is your life, and if you feel like you must...

I am not ready for that.

Oh, thank God.

Whatever happens, we are on your side.

Even if we do not understand it.

Which we don't and never will.

Thank you, Aunties.

I mean, I know how it works.

I went to an all-girls school.

After lights out, we would fumble in the dark.

- Kemi! - Relax!

We were preparing ourselves for men.

BOB: I don't know if you guys know

what's been going on.

Christina has left,

and her position has

become available.

We all got her beautiful resignation letter.

Several people were inconsolable.

Just one people.

Of course,

now you will need to replace her with someone qualified,

who has great knowledge of the workings of the company.

That's exactly right.

I usually am.

Congratulations, Kofo.

Excuse me?

Mr. Wheeler, you said "Kofo."

My name is Goodwin.

I know, but Kofo came up with the outlet store idea.

Plus, he worked with Christina rebranding

our socks, and she left him a glowing recommendation.

That was very lovely of her.

You want Kofo?

The Kofo that sleeps in my garage?

Yes, Goodwin.

We need you down on the floor. You're our guy.

Your floor guy.

Exactly.

And Kofo is your

office-with-a-view- of-the-parking-lot guy?

You can also see the Petco.

Well, there is nothing for me to say, but

congratulations, and I quit.

Goodwin, wait.

Good luck.

Now I feel terrible.

[door closes] I do, too.

Thank you so much for this opportunity.

I have reconsidered.

I just remember, I have a child in private school.

Welcome back, Cousin.