Heart Song

It was shock that registered in his heart when he first read the message; Extreme shock that led his heart to beat anomaly. He closed his eyes not knowing how to respond. He flung his cell phone aside and matched to the terrace of his house. He had travelled to escape the entire trauma but, whoever said you couldn’t run from your problems was very right. Dubai was a beautiful city. He loved it so much. He loved the natural beads of sweat and extreme heat, accompanied with iced drink and feet massages and every luxury he could ask for. Here, he was a free man.

No one knew him except that he was a stunningly rich man on vacation.  

The sun was always smiling and it always seemed natural unlike the Nigerian weather that seemed more of a torment. What had brought him here hadn’t left and he wasn’t planning to leave until it did completely.

He went towards the couch where his phone had gotten to. It wasn’t damaged though he knew the blackberry would have its after effects soon. He wasn’t interested in any foolish interview.

He toyed with the phone for a full second. He looked up to the maid standing by his side ‘any other thing sir?’

He stared at the untouched champagne and scones ‘yes, that would be all Marissa’ he said and watched as she walked off. He thought and then made up his mind; he would do the interiview for ‘hello ladies’ magazine. He would tell them any interesting fact including the fact that his wife was a backstabbing prevaricator who had left him in the middle of the third year of a wonderful marriage. Ok, she wasn’t exactly all that but she deserved to be called that for leaving him hanging because she was tired and the marriage wasn’t anything close to wonderful.

‘its ok’ he had said when she broke the divorce news. ‘it’s ok, I’ll be fine wrench’ he said and then as he came to terms with the news, he took a priceless 1600 glass rosette and threw it at her. It didn’t hit her and she wasn’t going to sue for assault. A full year had gone since the divorce and he hadn’t still come to terms with not eating a good cooked home-made meal. He still expected a peck on his cheeks on bed every morning, whilst he lay off in dreamland. But she was gone, gone for good, at least, until this heart throbbing message.

He picked his cell ‘hello Ope, I would do the interview. That’ll be great’

He wasn’t sure if that was the response she expected but oh well, the world would be thrilled to know the kind of woman his wife really was…

                                                                        ****

Miya turned away in dismay as she replaced the receiver. He had just accepted. That should be good-not bad. But-the awkwardness-of it all-

She sighed. He was taking it all wrong. he could have said no. If she knew him well, she knew his plan.

Their marriage beginning had been blissful both working extra-hard. They built a Rome empire in the suburbs of their estate in lekki, attended the finest of parties, enjoyed cocktail for dinner-but then the house was empty. There were no kids to keep her company on the weekends when she wasn’t working and he’d travelled on business. She got bored and poured herself into her writing. Soon she hardly saw him not that she came home later that 5pm. The bags under her eyes began to grow as she slept little and wrote more and more. When she put a full stop at the end of her last sentence each night, three to five pages already written, he wasn’t still home yet.

Then she got messages, flowers, and chocolates from him but it didn’t fill her empty heart.

When he did come home, his kisses meant nothing to her.  The elegant age old Egyptian ornaments and trinkets looked like plastics. She didn’t feel anything in her any more. Her shape was still perfect but she worked extra hard at the gym. One day, her assistant told her to see the psychologist. But she believed she was strong until one night.

She lay almost asleep and he came home with the biggest smile anyone could ever have and he saw the blood dripping from her wrist.

‘what happened’ he asked too concerned.

‘I slashed myself’ she said drunk. He could smell cigarette, alcohol and he saw the white powder-oh no!. Then it hit him like a thunderbolt and so, he hit her and beat her but not to pulp.

‘where did you get this from’ he asked

She was helpless. She was crying. She couldn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure what she had been doing with it but she sure knew she didn’t use it. What shocked her was how he’d hit her.

‘you’re a shame to women’ he had said and as he was about to walk out of the master bedroom, she said ‘you’ll be hearing from my lawyers’

He didn’t look back. He’d just kept walking.

she saw her psychologist the next day. She was dressed in the finest Sue Wong dress ever. It was a short lace white strapless dress-cocktail material and yet, she wore it. she made up and talked like nothing had happened the day before.

‘he hit you’ the woman repeated

‘yes. And I’m only telling you this because I have decided to get a divorce. I’m a strong woman, I’m close to the most powerful women in the world. What would they think of me if I said my husband beat me up’

‘remind me how old you are and how long you’ve been married’

She smiled ‘two and a half years-I’m twenty seven’ she said ‘and before you judge me, my mother became the president of her own women society at twenty five so, I’m lagging behind’

That was how the supposed therapy session had gone.

In the middle of it, on the way to the book launch, she got a call from her husband. He loved her even though he wouldn’t be able to make it. her reply was shallow and she didn’t care but at the venue, she saw her gigantic teddy bear. Just like the ones she’d always wanted as a child.

She texted him ‘I love it but we’re still going on with the divorce.’

He begged and stooped so low but her no was no. then the fights began and voila, they got their divorce.

But after the divorce though he got all the property-somehow she wasn’t interested in it; she began to hurt and crave for him. She missed him. She missed love as an entity. Her dad was able to get her a nice job, a bigger house but it all made her remember the emptiness she had inside.

For two years, they didn’t speak to each other after the breakup except for glimpsing each other at brunch and dinners giving by the state or senators or any dignitaries. A wave and that was it. Once or twice, she’d seen him with another woman and she’d gotten so green-eyed, she drank herself to stupor.

Then she started working hard again. Two books, one which was #3 best of according to punch and #2 according to guardian.

Then the magazine had asked her to do an interview for the discovery of the mystery man in her first novel. She had said no first but the editor had threatened her-except he declined. She was hoping he would. Then the call this afternoon almost a full hour after she had sent the message to his phone in Dubai. She heard his deep masculine voice which was yet so subtle. She was to fly into Dubai first thing the next Friday for the interview. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

A dream she had wished didn’t come true.

    

                                                                           ****

She walked briskly into the bright orange house. it looked like it had feminine touch but she didn’t notice any pictures of any woman lurking around. She told the maid to tell him they had arrived. She brough enough crew for the interview to ensure no awkwardness. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Stuff like this didn’t happen to the average woman. Why would she be assigned to do an interview for her own book? There were other people made for that. She sat on instruction of the maid and waited while the photographers and make up artists began to set up. her smile began to fade as she heard a female voice and then a graceful laughter from upstairs. She tried to maintain her calm. But she couldn’t. then she shouted  ‘morgan! Do hurry up we have no time to waste’

The laughter stopped

She could feel eyes on her and an awkward silence that she didn’t like.

‘be right down’ he said slowly but wasn’t down for another two hours. In frustration she sat at the edge of the chair watching him come down with the lady gracefully in a scala platinum paiette vintage dress. She was very jealous realizing it made her own dress look drab.  She was wearing a scala dress too  but it was not as beautiful as that. She wondered how in the world that had happened a strange coincidence.

‘opeyemi’ he said with a smile. he was the only one that called her by her native name ‘welcome to my humble vacation abode’

‘yes’ she said having no idea of what to have said. He looked so fresh, it was obvious his new companion had been taking good care of him.

‘would you like anything before we start?’

‘no thank you’ she said

‘this is Tolani by the way’

She wanted to shoot him as she shook the ladies dainty hand. Why hadn’t he said what she was to him?

They stared at each other for what seemed like eternity. Even his companion’s seductive touch on his hand hadn’t been able to make him break away from the bond. ‘I love you’ she said and suddenly the bond broke. Whatever connection they felt for that twenty seconds broke into pieces.

‘I mean I love that you are doing this for me’

‘yeah’ he said less moved by her words.

‘I need something strong-alcohol’ she said faintly

‘oh, I see you’ve not changed one bit’ he said refraining from smiling. He was serious.

‘what do you mean?’ she asked hoping he wouldn’t say a thing about her past drinking habbits.

‘common, don’t deceive yourself’ he said ‘you were a drunkard’ he said his hand firmly on his white kaftan.  

She withdrew a little bit ‘I only took to my drinking habits because you were never there for me’

He also withdrew.

‘I cant do this’ she said ‘please pack up?’

‘why? You seemed pretty sure it was ok when you said you were going to divorce me?’

‘I did because I thought life would be better without you since really I was without you’

‘is life better now?’ he asked calm

‘we should talk in private’

‘They have a right to know’ he said folding his arms.

‘ok, life isn’t better now and it wasn’t better then. I want you back desperately.’ She screamed in anger.

‘I begged you’ he said shaking his head ‘tell me how that wasn’t enough’

She nodded. She’d hoped just maybe they’d fall into this sort of frantic conversation just like novels and TV and get back together. It seemed she was wrong. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll go.’

She said and walked out. She now remembered why they weren’t together and realized it was better that way. There are people we threw away for a reason we shouldn’t forget. She still loved him but she dared not forget why she left him.

Though she had nothing-her job gone, she felt at peace having let that last piece of her heart’s song out.

Man is Man's enemy 2

‘Man’ he heard a scorned voice say. That was the voice that had woken him up. He took a quick glance around his surroundings. No one was there and the scroll was gone too. He kept looking. Someone was probably playing a funny prank on him ‘Zoë!’ he screamed just now remembering his second sons name ‘Lee?’

There was a sort of defeanning silence. He looked up at the image of his father. But the picture was as quiet and dead as the house. He ran to the door to try and open it. In vain effort he realized it wasn’t the code he had forgotten, it was someone that had deliberately changed it.

‘Who are you’ he screamed and his voice echoed. It was filled with desperation

‘I am he who you see when you look in the mirror’

He was getting frustrated. He wanted to punch something.

‘I said who you are! What do you want?’

‘Look in the mirror’ the deep baritone voice commanded. He ran to the toilet immediately and stood in front of the full length mirror. He saw himself, a haggard, unshaven, baggy eyed man.

The voice continued ‘I am that image you see when you look at the mirror’ the voice lightened up ‘you know, the one you quickly discard’

‘What? If this is a prank, I’m not finding it-’ before he could complete his sentence, the true image of himself flashed before his eyes. This time, it didn’t go immediately, it found a place in his medulla oblongata to live. The image was that of a dirty, cheating, liar who took the form of a standing animal.

‘Who are you?’

‘I am the animal whom you seek to kill. I am you’

He laughed heartily ‘ok, now I know I am crazy. Officially crazy’ he took off and settled in the parlor, the chills still running through his spine.

‘I am you. The naked sinful Adam.’ The voice said. ‘I am one for every man. You can’t kill me. I can kill you’

‘Why, why is that?’

‘Because you don’t know how to break the chain of your habits. The more you become bad the more I am compelled to stay with you and I can kill you when you realize the damage you’ve done to your life. E.G when a man’s been smoking his life out, I’d afflict him with lung cancer. When a man has been promiscuous, I give him STDs. When like you, you’ve been killing yourself with stress and I bring your death bed nearer. If you drive recklessly, I destroy your brakes. If you beat your wife, I place a knife in her hand. If you gossip, I make sure your back is bitten. If you are selfish, I make you sell fish. Don’t take me literarily.’

‘Isn’t there an opportunity for us to change?

‘There is but I do like living. Your change means my death.’

‘Oh.’ He said and looked at himself. ‘But if I don’t change you kill me. So what’s the ultimate deathbed for you?’

The voice seemed to hesitate ‘oh well, since you’ll soon die, I’ll tell you’ the voice tried a small laugh ‘Christ. Any soul with Jesus would be void of me your second man but would have a first man who is pure and to me irritating’

He muttered ‘but I have Christ and-’                                                            

The voiced seemed to say with a smile ‘you have church not Christ’

Feeling very clever. He went on his feet and acknowledged his savior but when he tried to stand up and open his eyes, all was black before him. He was dead. He wished he could share the word to others who would be worked up looking for a secret to kill the inhuman part of their lives.  

Now he knew salvation was death to man’s other side

Someday My Prince Would come

Her heart skipped a beat. She had actually felt that so traumatizing statement in her life. Her heart skipped another beat and she realized yes truly she was in love. ‘in love’ the trauma-filled statement that she had never ever thought was real. it was real not because she saw it or had tiny mushy butterflies in her belly. It was Because she felt an overwhelming power that weakened her female guts and strength. She felt a supreme body overshadow her being. She shut her eyes not in pain-no, in the aura of love. The last time a feeling close to this had been born in her was six years ago; a mere crush-supposedly infatuation that lasted six years and now has she set eyes on the same person, the feeling bloomed up in her.

She tried to turn away but she couldn’t avoid the sparkle in his eyes. she hadn’t seen him in five years but it didn’t seem like it. The social networks even though they hardly spoke somehow kept her connected to him. She pushed her desk forward. She wanted to talk to him. She wondered whether his seeing her would make him like her. She pulled the desk backward ‘I doubt’ she said with hesitation. She was never like this. She didn’t believe love could tame a wild girl. She was the classic wild girl ‘whatever’ was her theme in life as far as she looked good and was considered a gem. She had never taken a guy serious-not that they took her any serious. This was the person she belonged to. She just knew it. She had that feeling when you’re so sure about something and everything.

She tried to forget him ‘common’ she said to herself ‘dupe, you’re Mills; you don’t fall in love or love’

She focused on her newly acquired blackberry touch and poured her feelings into twitter. The world she had forever used to stalk him. Someone tapped her, driving her away from the retweet she’d just gotten

‘oh what is it?’ she asked in alarm and almost dramatically she turned back. She had thought it was Tobi or Anjie who had been disturbing her in the past half-hour.  She was wrong. For a second on sighting the alleged disturbance, she felt like Paul on the road to Damascus. She felt like she’d taken a momentary step away from earth into the place called heaven.

‘Hellooo?’ he said

His voice was still the same; just as she remembered it from junior school. She didn’t know what to say. Then she smiled and stood up as he hands were waiting for a hug. ‘mills’ he said ‘wow, you’ve grown. You look better than your Face book pictures’

It first registered that he also glanced through her profile once or twice or regularly. Then it also registered that he’d complimented her. Her eyes glowed but she didn’t know what to say. She was tempted to hiss and say something rude and just be herself; the way she was around every other person but his eyes charmed her and she smiled again. ‘So have you. So you want to study medicine?’ she asked then realized it was the lamest second sentence to be uttered. He was in the exam hall wasn’t he?

He smiled ‘yes I do as you can see. And I also know you want to study it too’

She smiled. There was an awkward silence.

‘We should catch up anyway’ he said and almost pecked her until someone rudely interrupted.

‘Jay!’ she screamed. Dupe looked at her and eyed her meticulously. She was wearing a black vintage dress accompanied by, white pearl beads. She almost uttered her dismay at the girls dressing for the exam when every other person was on jeans and a shirt.

‘What’s up’ she asked after a long hug with him.

‘Nothing baby’ he was even holding her waist.

Her heart sank and she abruptly took her seat. She thought finally she could have him to herself but no doubt, there’d be some competition. Then another girl came over and after an almost endless chatter which seemed about twenty minutes-a chatter she pretended not to listen to as she solved one math question thirty times, he ran over to meet another girl.

She stared at the girl. An embodiment of real beauty dressed casually in shorts and a white fitted tank top. dupe knew too well that whatever they all felt for him couldn’t match the love she had for him. He just couldn’t see. He was driven by countless girls who only adored his swag and exquisiteness when she loved him not only for his looks but for who he really was.

She wasn’t going to give up on him. he’d someday love her and realize she was the only one for him. She’d jokingly told Anjie it was juju she would use but she knew one day, the feeling he knew she had for him would be mutual. She only hoped she’d still be in love with him that day when he realized the girl he called his girlfriend now and tomorrow was just in love with his bluster.

Someday her prince who was ever around would realize aint no other girl but her.

A Memory Forgotten

She sat transfixed to the small television. The scratching signal sounds irritated her. She tried to balance on the abnormally soft bed. She could just sink in its comfort. She’d never slept on such in all her seventy something years. Mouka foam adverts had won her over since she was but a young bride in their mini mansion. She hugged tightly the comforter-comfortable as well. She just loved its whole essence. It made her feel well and made her forget she lacked vitality. She was well now but for how long. She stared into the mirror ahead. There was emptiness in her eyes. She could see it but she wasn’t sure what sort of emptiness it was. Her hair was now fully gray and short. Her face was wrinkled and darker; the side-effect age came with. She had no reason to live anymore yet something let her cling smoothly to life; a memory forgotten.  

The doctor had asked ‘Alex how many husbands do you have?’ he had said in English. Even though she couldn’t remember how to speak the language she still understood a bit of it and had answered ‘mewa’

She didn’t know what prompted her to give that answer. There had been just one man for her all through the years his name was Sanya. They’d gotten married and had children she remembered that so well but then he died twenty years later-or at least that’s what she’d told herself. She remembered nothing of Sanya just that she’d loved him so much. Maybe that was the emptiness in her eyes at least, she did remember telling her third daughter that when a young lady was in love, you could just see the whole essence in her eyes.

She smiled. It was one of the few memories that always sufficed. She’d had a daunting past. She was so sure of it yet she didn’t remember a thing of it. She remembered the very irrelevant things like eating breakfast and preparing to go to church-stuff like that. Never any mistake, accident, fight, argument or even how Sanya had died. She wanted someone to fill in the gap for her, tell her a story about her life but no one talked to her so much anymore. They left her to sit lonesome in her room. She even developed the habit of talking to herself and, not once or twice, she’d glimpsed Sanya in her doorway. When she tried reach out to him and call his name it was nothing but an endless stream of pain having fallen in the attempt. She told no one of these details as they regarded her every word has words of an insane old lady. She stared at the television. It seemed to have gained a little signal. They seemed to be talking politics and she didn’t care a thing about that. She’d lost track of politics since the Abacha regime. In fact, she’d lost track of anything she’d normally cared about. She had no idea of who ruled but one thing she did know was there was advancement in way of life, technology and fashion. Having been a small tailor, she was sure fashion had changed drastically.

She looked at her own IRO and buba-nothing had changed about it. IRO and buba was still there; the trend of the old ones and Yoruba cultures dynamism. She smiled and then frowned when she remembered her predicament. The doctor had said her heart was failing. She didn’t know what that meant but she was sure it had something to do with unhealthy days to come and then c’est fini, death.

Her sister was a doctor. She’d wanted her to treat her but she couldn’t reach her. She didn’t have the means. Her sister usually visited but now she didn’t anymore. She wondered why and immediately she glimpsed Sanya again.

‘what do you want’ she said in her native tongue. He had his back facing her. She could be sure he was the one but really who else had that same broad shoulder and masculine frame, topped off by black full hair and arms with muscles.

There was no answer.

There was something so different about him. He could have easily passed as any eligible bachelor in this day and age but there was something that made him different from the finest. She couldn’t tell what it was but she knew it had a thing to do with the fact that he was the only one she ever loved. She stared brooding in the depths of his fascinating and charming specimen, wishing he’d just turn back at her. He didn’t. A tear escaped her eyes. She willed herself to stand up. She hadn’t done so by herself in weeks but the determination in her guts made her struggle and she did. She held tightly the pole by the bed. Her vision became blurred by the tears pain caused but she could still see her goal and when she was almost at the door he was against, he wove at her from behind. She stood still for a moment and quickly put forward her hand to touch him. She was slow but she could already feel his quintessence. Her hand was almost to his broad shoulders when she gave out a small cry of dismay and fell down. He’d disappeared.

The nurse came inside and saw her on the floor. ‘Mama, do you want to kill yourself?’ her tone was more of anger than concern and sympathy.

‘please just leave me’ she said the tears in her eyes completely gone only a bitter taste was left in her mouth.

‘no, i would have. But I can’t’ she said and raised the older woman to her feet.

She looked at the nurses’ face and she saw Sanya. In her voice, she heard his voice. She knew her wishes to have him by her aside were all in vain. She sank deeply into thought of him and she remembered. He had been dying. He was sick and she took care of him. She was by his side every day of the illness and watched him die in her arms. She didn’t remember what the illness had been but she knew she’d devoted all her time to make sure he was alive. She remembered his smile at death. She remembered the love words they’d whispered to each other before he died. She remembered right then, she’d forgiven him for taking in a second wife when she couldn’t have a son. She remembered how easy it was to bury the grudge she’d had against him and kiss him. But she couldn’t forgive the second wife. She couldn’t.

Now, she let it go. She let everything go. All she wanted was his love.

Now she blamed herself for his death. Maybe if he hadn’t died, she wouldn’t be in any pain whatsoever. She’d lied to him that all was forgiven when she hadn’t forgiven Asake her best friend for marrying her husband. Even though she hadn’t verbally blamed her, she had blamed him and now she was filled with so much regrets.

Her heart throbbed for his love. It’d been so long and she knew the feeling was dangerous-almost 30 years. She whispered ‘I’m sorry Sanya, I’m sorry for loving you’ and shut her eyes tightly ‘I’m sorry but I just want to be with you’

Then she’d slept into death.

In the cemetery, where Sanya had been buried, they buried her closely.

‘a love that thrived in hurt.’ was carved on her tombstone.

She sat transfixed to the small television. The scratching signal sounds irritated her. She tried to balance on the abnormally soft bed. She could just sink in its comfort. She’d never slept on such in all her seventy something years. Mouka foam adverts had won her over since she was but a young bride in their mini mansion. She hugged tightly the comforter-comfortable as well. She just loved its whole essence. It made her feel well and made her forget she lacked vitality. She was well now but for how long. She stared into the mirror ahead. There was emptiness in her eyes. She could see it but she wasn’t sure what sort of emptiness it was. Her hair was now fully gray and short. Her face was wrinkled and darker; the side-effect age came with. She had no reason to live anymore yet something let her cling smoothly to life; a memory forgotten.  

The doctor had asked ‘Alex how many husbands do you have?’ he had said in English. Even though she couldn’t remember how to speak the language she still understood a bit of it and had answered ‘mewa’

She didn’t know what prompted her to give that answer. There had been just one man for her all through the years his name was Sanya. They’d gotten married and had children she remembered that so well but then he died twenty years later-or at least that’s what she’d told herself. She remembered nothing of Sanya just that she’d loved him so much. Maybe that was the emptiness in her eyes at least, she did remember telling her third daughter that when a young lady was in love, you could just see the whole essence in her eyes.

She smiled. It was one of the few memories that always sufficed. She’d had a daunting past. She was so sure of it yet she didn’t remember a thing of it. She remembered the very irrelevant things like eating breakfast and preparing to go to church-stuff like that. Never any mistake, accident, fight, argument or even how Sanya had died. She wanted someone to fill in the gap for her, tell her a story about her life but no one talked to her so much anymore. They left her to sit lonesome in her room. She even developed the habit of talking to herself and, not once or twice, she’d glimpsed Sanya in her doorway. When she tried reach out to him and call his name it was nothing but an endless stream of pain having fallen in the attempt. She told no one of these details as they regarded her every word has words of an insane old lady. She stared at the television. It seemed to have gained a little signal. They seemed to be talking politics and she didn’t care a thing about that. She’d lost track of politics since the Abacha regime. In fact, she’d lost track of anything she’d normally cared about. She had no idea of who ruled but one thing she did know was there was advancement in way of life, technology and fashion. Having been a small tailor, she was sure fashion had changed drastically.

She looked at her own IRO and buba-nothing had changed about it. IRO and buba was still there; the trend of the old ones and Yoruba cultures dynamism. She smiled and then frowned when she remembered her predicament. The doctor had said her heart was failing. She didn’t know what that meant but she was sure it had something to do with unhealthy days to come and then c’est fini, death.

Her sister was a doctor. She’d wanted her to treat her but she couldn’t reach her. She didn’t have the means. Her sister usually visited but now she didn’t anymore. She wondered why and immediately she glimpsed Sanya again.

‘what do you want’ she said in her native tongue. He had his back facing her. She could be sure he was the one but really who else had that same broad shoulder and masculine frame, topped off by black full hair and arms with muscles.

There was no answer.

There was something so different about him. He could have easily passed as any eligible bachelor in this day and age but there was something that made him different from the finest. She couldn’t tell what it was but she knew it had a thing to do with the fact that he was the only one she ever loved. She stared brooding in the depths of his fascinating and charming specimen, wishing he’d just turn back at her. He didn’t. A tear escaped her eyes. She willed herself to stand up. She hadn’t done so by herself in weeks but the determination in her guts made her struggle and she did. She held tightly the pole by the bed. Her vision became blurred by the tears pain caused but she could still see her goal and when she was almost at the door he was against, he wove at her from behind. She stood still for a moment and quickly put forward her hand to touch him. She was slow but she could already feel his quintessence. Her hand was almost to his broad shoulders when she gave out a small cry of dismay and fell down. He’d disappeared.

The nurse came inside and saw her on the floor. ‘Mama, do you want to kill yourself?’ her tone was more of anger than concern and sympathy.

‘please just leave me’ she said the tears in her eyes completely gone only a bitter taste was left in her mouth.

‘no, i would have. But I can’t’ she said and raised the older woman to her feet.

She looked at the nurses’ face and she saw Sanya. In her voice, she heard his voice. She knew her wishes to have him by her aside were all in vain. She sank deeply into thought of him and she remembered. He had been dying. He was sick and she took care of him. She was by his side every day of the illness and watched him die in her arms. She didn’t remember what the illness had been but she knew she’d devoted all her time to make sure he was alive. She remembered his smile at death. She remembered the love words they’d whispered to each other before he died. She remembered right then, she’d forgiven him for taking in a second wife when she couldn’t have a son. She remembered how easy it was to bury the grudge she’d had against him and kiss him. But she couldn’t forgive the second wife. She couldn’t.

Now, she let it go. She let everything go. All she wanted was his love.

Now she blamed herself for his death. Maybe if he hadn’t died, she wouldn’t be in any pain whatsoever. She’d lied to him that all was forgiven when she hadn’t forgiven Asake her best friend for marrying her husband. Even though she hadn’t verbally blamed her, she had blamed him and now she was filled with so much regrets.

Her heart throbbed for his love. It’d been so long and she knew the feeling was dangerous-almost 30 years. She whispered ‘I’m sorry Sanya, I’m sorry for loving you’ and shut her eyes tightly ‘I’m sorry but I just want to be with you’

Then she’d slept into death.

In the cemetery, where Sanya had been buried, they buried her closely.

‘a love that thrived in hurt.’ was carved on her tombstone.

Hope

The air was tense and misty. The day was as a knife, piercing through the heart of many. The sun shot down fiercely at the earth as if not caring about her present predicament. With a snobbish snort, the clouds also moved away as if to say, we can’t be too bothered about what goes on down there. Fellow heavenly elements struck wickedly down on earth as if insinuating that the father wasn’t listening.

 Sitting with hands clenched to her jaw Mariam Dina looked up at the heavens with a feeling of hope. It was a moment of heightened tension and for once she saw the need for hope. Even everything around her seemed to say ‘why bother about this situation? You know what’s going to happen! Forget about hope and faith they are not worth the stress.’ But Mariam was reverent in her short prayers.

22^nd of may 2005 was a day she had been silently been praying wont come.  She had prayed, cried and rolled. She didn’t want the day to come. Her visit to the doctor yesterday was short and quick because she was afraid of everything around her. The breeze blew allowing chills run through her spine.

Letters to God.

It had created a somewhat sort of hope in her heart that she would live past 22^nd with smiles on her rosy cheek. She picked a pen after watching the movie. one could say that life had given her a big blow but she knew her time wasn’t up yet. Then she wrote to God.

Her letter was brief.

‘God I don’t want to die. Not because I am self-centered. I just have a lot yet to accomplish. Give me sometime more. I am hopeful that you would change things. Plus, I love you.’

She closed her eyes and enclosed some money into the envelope. She gave it to the maid to find a way to mail it that night. She was sure God would get it.

Having cancer and being the daughter of a well honoured preacher didn’t go together. But they had all been praying for her. Some had given up, but she was hopeful.

She was very hopeful that God would make away.

It was the hardest year of her life.

Ding-dong!  it was operation time.

The bright nurse led her into the ward. It wasn’t the OR. She was worried. Maybe something was wrong.  The operation was scheduled for a few minites and- she just didn’t want to die.

Those operations, if not done well, ended up affecting the whole body.

The pathologist who had conducted the blood tests, X-rays, CT scans and endoscopy walked over to her with a bright smile. ‘funny how, I received your letter to God, few minutes before I received the results of the test.’ He said ‘I said a prayer for you when I got the letter in shock. And, I got a call from the hospital that your test results were out. Sorry, we cannot operate you’ he said beaming.

She didn’t understand. She started crying in confusion until he spoke those words that made her jump for joy. ‘you don’t have cancer’

Then she remembered her prayers to God.

And the glint of hope in her heart.

And the friendly cloud which told her to ignore the fierce sun.

And the reassuring smile of her parents.

Then she thanked God.

And hope too.

The lagoons view

We weren’t fighting this time. it didn’t seem like it. I preferred the term quiet. We were bothe quiet. He seemed very cold and I, indifferent. Twenty years had flown like magic and the love we had at nineteen seemed like a rapidly burning candle. My toast to him that lovely day was our love would be like a candle that never burnt. Oh, how I was wrong. We spent so much time apart, we didn’t know how to address each other anymore. Bolade wont have taken it if we got a divorce. No one would and I wasn’t particularly interested in any messy situation.

I tied my gele and stared at the mirror. Maybe it was because I was old. How I hated that word. I didn’t look that bad. I was thirty nine and still I looked like I was a single lady. But still age couldn’t be hidden. I wasn’t that kinky little girl in shorts, afro, lip gloss-most importantly vulnerable. My parents had just died when I met him. He was the only one there for me. He took me in-maybe that was why it was so easy to fall in love with him. I tried to smile. The thoughts were just too heartbreaking.

I applied my lipstick and dabbed some brown powder on my face. My phone was ringing but I didn’t have time to pick it up. I walked into the master bedrrooom where we both slept. Oddly it seemed like no one ever slept in it. maybe its because we only retreated there after several hours spent separately even at night. I sighed.

‘musa,’ I said causally. I don’t remember the last time I called him his name ‘are you ready to go’

‘nah, I’m a bit too tired. I’ll skip. I’ll call to apologise and I was thinking maybe we could have dinner when you get back’ I saw the hesistation in his voice and his face. He was truly tired. He worked very  hard. But then, this party wasn’t the ordinary, she’d worked so hard to make it happen.

‘but musa, everyone’s going to expect me to walk in there with you?”

‘damn it’ he yelled’ I said I am freaking tired’

I nodded and rubbed his knee and moved out. That didn’t add a plus or minus to my day. Big deal, he was fightin with himself, I was going to have a good time at his parents fifty-year anniversary. Being the event planner, I had to ensure that all went well. I entered my car and drove out the gate steadily then it hit me that I’d left my phone on the dresser. I couldn’t go back I was already late and that wasn’t in my nature. I strolled out of the car at past twelve. Everyone looked glorious. I greeted the family and oh my, as I was about to apologise for my husbands absence, he strolled in indifferently.

I was quickly drawn away by aduke who was working the party alongside me. I couldn’t think straight. The party was the last thing on my mind. It was why my husband had come to the party on his own. We could come together I thought but he said he wasn’t coming. I started giving orders and everything on my mind, slowly blurred away. It was until shade walked to my side and nnudged me to look in the way of my husband.

‘whats he doing there?’ she asked, her hands akimbo.

‘enjoying himself ofcourse’ I said with a smile

‘oh bimbo, don’t give me that!’ she said ‘you’re my best friend, I definitely know when you two are having pproblems’

‘I wont call it problems-Its silence-’

‘you kinow what comes after silence-more silence then cheating then finally he’ll bring roses home and when he tells you they are not for you? He’ll tell you he wants a divorce-’

‘shade’ I said slapping my hands together ‘you’re too much of storyteller. Did I forget to tell you you look good? Absolutely, ravishing’

‘aw, look at this one, trying to change topic.’ She hissed ‘and yes you already told me I look ravishing’

‘Its been long I saw him laugh like that’ I said turning my attention to him.’his eyes have never glowed like that’

‘and now, it is glowing because he’s talking to that twenty-two year old chicken leg?’

‘marissa is practically family’

‘if you say so, but bimbo, you have to do something and solve this problem’

I nodded and stared at my inlaws. Mama and papa B as they were popularly called. Their love was still glowing and as vibrant. I stared at everything, the whole essence of the place was love. I stared back at my husband. He was staring at me and when our eyes locked, I quickly took mine away. I still loved him. Mama B walked towards me with a smile ‘thanks for a wonderful party. May your love also continue as ours-’

‘mama B, do you have a minute?’

‘yes, whats wrong dear?’

‘at some point in your marriage did you ever think it  wasn’t working?’

‘never? Never. You know why? I programed my self to think anytime we had a fight what life would be wqithout him and the answer was hell. At some time I spat I hate you to him but I didn’t-‘ she smiled  ‘sorry I hope I answered your question’

I tried to smile ‘yes’

‘ofcourse ma.’ Shade said eyeing me.

Shade stared at me as mama B walked away ‘you better work things out.’ She held my palm firmly ‘he’s still staring at you. I read love in his eyes’ she paused and stared at her purse-who is this person that keeps calling me?’

‘why don’t you just pick up the phone and find out!’

‘No, I’m talking to  you, that’s rude’

‘but I cant stand that annoying nokia tune’ I said and dragged the phone from her. ‘I’ve known you since I put my finger in your eye when we were five. I’m still rude you know’

I picked the phone ‘hello-ok’ I handed her the phone its your son

‘bayowa can never let me rest. Hello? Bayo? What happened?-ehn? Bolade ke? What are you—now, I’ll let her know.’

‘what happened? Whats wrong with bola’ I asked agitated my daughter had been mentioned I was afraid

‘she’s been hospitalized,’ shade said fidgeting

‘what happened?’

‘she was in an accident. We’ve got to get there. It’s the campus hospital.’

I informed musa and we rushed out in a hurry. The drive seemed to take forever maybe because I and musa did not know what to say to each to her.

When we finally got there the doctor told us that she was stabble. ‘its minor’ he said.

We were allowed to go in and see her. There was a bandage on her hand. I didn’t want to know the details, I just wanted to hug my baby

‘you cant touch her’ musa said angrily ‘the doctor said not to’

At this point, I wanted to break down and start crying and I allowed myself to. ‘I just want to hold her’

‘but you cant’ he said indifferently

‘musa, lets not let our fight get in the midst of this-’

‘midst of what? She’s the product of this union and you neglected her. Now you just think-‘

‘musa you’re shouting’ I said crying much more.

‘oh, you want me to shut up?

A nurse walked in and looked at both of us ‘you two are going to have to leave’

‘she’s our daughter’ I said trying to placate her

‘which doesn’t give you any reason to disturb her’

‘she said we should leave ok?’ he said and walked out.

I followed him. We met bayowa outside the ward. I warmly greeted him and moved past him. There was too much on my mind. Musa walked into the car and sat on the driver seat. I quickly opened the door. I wondered where he wanted to go.

‘we cant just leave her there’ I said

‘who said I was leaving’

I looked at him. He was drumming his fingers on the starring.

Then, abruptly, he started the car and drove off. It was a two minutes drive to the lagoon. He came out and sat on the sand. I went with him. I wasn’t going to allow myself go through this alone. Someone had to go through ir with  me. Better the culprit than anyother person.

‘are you going to divorce me’ I said even though he wasn’t looking at me. Stunned at the question he stared at me.

‘what no?’ he was looking deeply into my eyes ‘I love you?’

I nodded

‘what you don’t love me?’

‘no, you don’t sound convincing-’

‘what? That’s because I thought you were cheating. I’ve thought so for like two years maybe three’

‘the reasons for the fights’ I said thoughtfully. Then it all came back to me. The first fight had landed me sick after which I got accustomed to it. the fight had been about nothing in particular- I think I had served too much fried rice and he’d been just too mad abuot it. ‘Is that why you screamed-‘

He nodded ‘I didn’t know what to do or who to talk to’ he said calmly

‘you could have asked’

He nodded.

We were both silent a while ‘but are you?’

‘no-no, I love you I would never. I can never imagine life without you’ I said remembering his mothers words. ‘why did you ever think that, don’t you trust me?’

‘the guys, they put words into my head. You know, you were working so hard and everything and they be like no woman can work that hard but oprah except they cheating’

I slowly put my head on his chest.

‘you know, I had a dinner planned-lights and candles-in case nepa disappoints- casserole’

‘I just want to enjoy the view of the water.’

‘bimbo’ he said slowly

‘I’m sorry for evetything’

‘me too.’

His cellphone rang

‘-ok, we’ll be right there.’

We hurried into his car back to the hospital. Our daughter was fine and our family-his family was there with us.

A week later, we renewed our vows in front of the lagoon. This time I said ‘our love would be like this lagoon. Its flow is endless’

Till death do us part

I looked beyond the dark skies then back into the room. It was a slowly burning candle light that was illuminating the room. There was the small calabash where she drank water from in the corner and then a hard mattress which was highly uncomfortable. The stench of death was somewhere around. I looked ahead in fear and looked at my old sick mother on the bed, moving at times, convulsively. This whole situation was getting on my neck. I shifted for the lad who’d gone to fetch some agbo for my mother to enter. The moon was at the fullest tonight and my mother seemed worse than ever. I closed my eyes and sat slowly on a stool. It was highly uncomfortable not the stool, my being here but I just had to. I’d left my work in the city, to be here. I sighed. Hopefully she’d get better-but that was just hope. I’d prayed and prayed and done my best. It was all up to God.

Mother coughed. I turned hurriedly to look at her. The lad dropped the agbo and quickly ran off without collecting money. I wonder what it was that these villagers whispered. Some said she had been a witch and was paying for her sins. The words of the ignorant always baffled me. Once was a time mother was healthy and the village philanthropist. Her seven children, wealthy, were spread around the country and a person out of jealousy said brain cancer was payment of sins?  Mother was even a great lover of God. She herself was the one who brought me to God. I smiled remembering her when she was very young and active.

Old age had come and taken her youthful vitality away from her.

I stood up and went to her. Mother looked so agonizingly in pain. I just wish there was something I could do to ease her pains.

‘You know you’ll soon die’ I said soothingly to the old woman. Words like that comforted her more than ever. Mother couldn’t just withstand the pain.

‘I know. I know’ she said a croaked whisper ‘but all I want is to see my babies before I die’

I hesitated. Where were they that they couldn’t be here with me with our mother? ‘Yes mother, I’d be on the phone with them right away’ I said and smoothened the ruffles on my dress. Who was I kidding I thought still looking at the now smoothened ruffles as if they were supposed to have answers. the same siblings that had dumped our own mother here might just not want to see her.

I picked the phone to call them one after the other.

Professor Ajao picked up the call immediately. ‘I’m sorry bimpe, you of all people should understand. I can’t be there- the university needs me-’

‘But mama needs us-’

‘I watch your African magic almost-death partings, you can text it to me’ my sister barrister tope said

‘Erm, you know I can’t just leave the hospital-I have rounds almost 18 hourly-’ Thomas said

‘I’m too far from home bimpe, tell mama I love her’ kehinde said, his voice without a trace of sympathy

‘There’s no one to watch the kids—or cook and you know- maybe-I can’t’ taiwo said. I could hear the sound of beach music in the background. It was obviously a spa trip.

‘I’ll be there soonest-’ idowu said, I could read the trace of untruth in her voice.

I turned to mama. She was looking up at me. ‘They’re not coming right?’

‘Mama, I tried-’

‘Bimpe, come here’ she said motioning for me to come to her side. I felt her wrinkled palm on mine. The tears-the constant tears began to fall from my eyes. ‘Did I offend them?’

‘No mum, I doubt that’

‘Then why don’t they want to come here-to see me’ I could hear the craving in her voice, like a mother hen who wanted her chicks desperately. I felt so sorry I broke down into loud sobs.

‘Common!’ she scolded ‘don’t do that.’ She said trying to reach for my eyes.

‘Mum, I’ll always be by your side. Always!’ I said as my two children walked in to be with their grandma. They hugged her and kissed her.

Her maid walked in.

‘Mum, we’re going. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow with your favorite dish’

‘How little that means to me now’ she said agonized ‘I can almost see the light-but I’ll be expecting you alright’

‘Gran, you’re not going anywhere okay?’ my seventeen year old said frowning. As protective as his father. I watched him kiss her and firmly hold Lola’s hand. I knew just what that said. You’ve not been there for us. I felt so alone.

We walked outside sluggishly. I just needed a hot bath and some fresh clothes right now.

I fell asleep immediately we got to the hotel. Only to be woken up a few minutes later by Lola and bola. I wondered what was wrong. I slowly opened my eyes to realize it wasn’t a few minutes later, it was five hours later and news had just gotten to us that my mum fell down and something about her hand-

For one second, I was totally confused. I called my husband. He was a doctor; he’d know what to do. Then I put on a lighter dress and ran off with Lola and bola.

The next hospital was about twenty miles from the village. I sighed.

Few minutes later when I stepped into the room, my mum was at the point of death. I saw the ruptured hand; it had a slice which the maid explained was from the nail in the bed. It was bleeding terribly still on the floor. We moved her to the bed because she couldn’t do so herself. She was clinging on to life. I saw it in her deliberately, slowed breaths. She was a strong woman.

‘I want you to call my babies. I want to see them before I go’ she said

I made calls to all of them. I didn’t want to hear their excuse. I just dropped the facts and cut the phone.

‘They’d be here’ I said hopefully. The longest it would take any one of them to get here was two hours and I believe she could hold on till then. Being the youngest I was naturally close to my mother but right now, I needed my siblings as much as she needed them.

Soon, when my husband arrived, mother wasn’t talking anymore. She couldn’t speak and she was too tired to try harder to speak. My husband couldn’t do anything and he doubted if the hospital could. He took care of the cut and made her very comfortable. Then one by one they arrived. It was when idowu arrived that mother opened her eyes. She smiled and raised her fingers slowly to wave at them.

It was seven in the morning.

It was two the incident had happened. She lifted a paper off and still as her hand hung in the air, she closed her eyes, dropped it and slept.

I tried to convince myself she was asleep but the air hung still and the noise of her heavy breaths had stopped. It was the obvious Lola knew it because she clutched tightly to her daddy-not me,

Professor took the letter and read it as the others poured out hypocritical tears—I guess.  No, they actually meant their tears but it wasn’t anyone’s fault they hadn’t been there for her.

Professor fell down on his knees and passed the letter on.

‘I’m sorry you treated me this way’ taiwo read aloud ‘it’s not your fault I became a burden at barely seventy. It’s okay. I hope to meet you guys in heaven... Please don’t feel bad that you weren’t there for me. Don’t. For the nine months I carried you, growing inside me, no charge. For the time I sat up with you doctored you, wait for you, no charge. For the times that I sat and the worries I had, there is no charge, when you add it all up, the real sum of my love is no charge’ my favorite song. I didn’t want anything from you but love. Oh well, I love you all. I know deep down you love me, you know. Peace is with you till we meet again.’

I started crying too.

But I realized that very moment that mother’s letter, wasn’t just about her. It was the things we took as priorities, forgetting the ones we loved and who love us when they need us, Thinking, they’ll be there forever.

I turned to my kids. I’d put my work above them. I kissed them.

Death was such a close friend we never knew the day it would betray us.

Till death does us part was too taken for granted.