Book series – Page 2 – 21stcenturybelle

Omowashe Omorishe#30

Uncle Segun

Watching the two most important women in my life walk in through the door was the best picture to behold.
One young and beautiful with the whole world ahead of her to take on while the other who has been by my side through thick and thin. I was on the thin verge of losing them both, but I was not going to give up. I was going to fight to get their affection back. To once again see the look of adoration in their eyes that spoke volumes of how important I was to them.

I mustered enough courage and faked a vibrancy I did not feel “Here come my girls!!!!”
I could sense Bimba seeking an escape as she fumbled in her bag until I heard her phone ring and she signalled to take the call which was a good excuse. However, without the call, she would have looked for another reason to get out of my presence.
Ever since she found out Lana was my biological daughter, she had moved out of our home but came to the office every day.
She had been civil and only discussed official matters. I wanted to give her the time and space she needed but now I needed to woo her back, or I might lose her forever.

Turning to Lana. “You should be home by now. It’s past your 6 hours of work.”
“Oh please Uncle Segun,” she said rolling her eyes. “I am as healthy as a horse. I do not need all the convalescence moves you have been pulling for the past couple of weeks.”
“Where were you coming from?”
“From the ………
She started to say but stopped midway.
My curiosity was piqued as I raised my eyebrows “when did you start keeping secrets from me?”
She shrugged and threw a barb at me “it starts one day, doesn’t it? You did keep who you were from me all my life.”

“If I could turn the hands of the clock backwards. I will Lana. I will say sorry a thousand times if it makes you feel better, or make the pain go away. I tried so many times to tell you, but there just was never the ideal time.

The period you moved to boarding school. I feared you would not take the news well, then you finished and passed with all distinctions. I wanted to shout it out to you, but it sounded selfish when all the hard work had been put in by others not me. You got admission to the university, and it did not look ideal to tell you at that time when you were testing the waters of freedom away from home. What if you reacted wrongly and flipped to the other side in rebellion. So I held on and kept postponing the day I would tell you.

Lana, I am sorry.” I had not realised the tears were trickling down my face as I pleaded with my daughter to forgive me.
I held out my arms hoping against hope that she would come for a hug just like the old times.
I could have leapt for joy as she ran into my arms crying a nerve racking sobs all over my crisp white shirt but what did it matter. She had found a place to forgive me, and that was what mattered the most.

*******

“Are you ready to see your birth mum?” I ventured to ask Lana.
I had taken it very slow with Lana not wanting to push her. She had not shown any interest in meeting up with her birth mum, and I had given up hoping that she would have other opportunities.

“I guess yes,” she smiled amidst the tears that laced her eyes. “I am tired of fighting. What harm would there be to hear what she has to say and make peace with her? We can’t take back the years we have lost, but we can build on the ones before us.”

I was happy at the wisdom of her words and could not be more proud she was my daughter and the opportunity I had to invest in her upbringing. I had Agnes to thank. If she had not given up Lana from birth, I would never have been this blessed to be a part of the great woman she has become. It was this gratitude I had that propelled me to help to bridge the relationship between mother and daughter. “Lana you are one smart and intelligent woman who I am happy to have known.”
“You are always filled with praise. I should have known long ago there was something beyond the uncle – niece relationship,” she smiled her eyes twinkling. Wiping her eyes and smoothening her dress, she stood up. I got to go.
“Would you try and call her today?” I can give you her number.” I got out my phone and sent the contact to her.
“I will call her now. There is no need to wait. I have waited too long to mend this relationship.”
“Come here,” I commanded and engulfed her in a fierce hug as tears threatened to drop. “My sunshine,” I murmured.
“Hmm, Uncle Segun, whatever happened to Auntie Bimba?”
“That is my number one sunshine, and you are the second.”
“Not the first huh?” Lana feigned hurt.
“No not the first. You will get married and be someone else first let my wife be my first,” I teased.
It was no hidden secret that I would choose Lana any day above Bimba after all that’s what I had always done in the past, but it never bothered her. Knowing Lana was my daughter might change all that, but I hope she could see that she was the most important person to me next to my child.
“Then you had better go there and let her know,” she challenged me.
“Since you have taken a bold step to see your birth Mum. I should take a cue from you and go declare my undying love for your aunt contrary to the rumours peddled by family members.”
“You heard?”
“I heard every word of it, and it was preposterous. Agnes is your mother and what we had has become history. She remains a friend but nothing more. I cannot love another person than your aunt. I breathe and live for her even if she is mad at me now.I intend to fight for what we have and get her back.
“I got to run, thank you, uncle. You got unfinished business here,” Lana said looking behind me.
I turned and was more surprised to see Bimba in my office.

Bimba
I strolled into Segun’s office to pick a document on a case we were working on when I heard his open declaration of affection for me. I know Segun has always loved me. There were no doubts about that fact but what I could not get around my head was his betrayal. How could he have kept such information from me all these years was my concern and how many more secrets has he kept from me?

Lana had a look I told you so with a twist of cheekiness to it as she hurriedly gave me a hug whispering, “Auntie let it go and let him love”, and glided out of the office.

Her words stunned me. The girl has grown wise over the years. Segun was not the only one who doted on her. I did not unashamedly. We both poured out our love for a child into Lana. I argued it was because she was the only niece who spent time at our place with many sleepovers and outings. Her parents were never afraid to send her over to our place unlike the rest of the family who was over protective of their children. Not that I blame them. Knowing the truth behind Lana’s parentage gave credence to the reason her parents were free to release her. After all, she was going to her father’s house.

Lana and I shared a bond fostered by her visits and time spent together talking and shopping. None of my other nieces and nephews could have bolstered the courage to book a doctor’s appointment without my prior consent and drive me there. The thought put a smile on my face which I was not aware was plastered on my face until I heard Segun clear his throat the way he did when he was nervous.

I focused my eyes on him, and I got lost with love I saw in those eyes. I felt the butterflies in my stomach and laughed inwardly at my foolishness. Why this feeling of giddiness like a love-struck teenager? My hormones must be having a joke at my expense.

Shifting my gaze way towards the file on Segun’s table, I walked past him to retrieve the document.”I came for this,” I picked the file and made my way to squeeze through the closed up space to escape as he moved towards me.
“What do I need to do to make you forgive me?” he asked brokenly touching a cord in my heart. I was not going to do this. I was not ready for a reconciliation till I had figured out what I wanted for my baby.
“You’ll go back,” a voice said to my head. As I argued with the voices in my head. I don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I wanted to go back. I could remain civil with the father of my child but to work on broken trust was a hard bit for me.
“I would work at gaining back your trust,” he said as if he could read my thoughts, his eyes darkening with a resolution I know he would fulfil
“I want to believe we can have what we had before. But I can’t work past the hurt lodged in my heart. There are days I honestly could pick a gun if given one and shoot you without remorse. There are other days I try to understand that you had a good reason but what I can’t comprehend is how you lied to me for twenty years with the reason for your lies within our reach. Every day you looked at her, and every time you made a big deal of the milestones in her life was an opportunity to tell me, but you did not and that I find it hard to forgive. You know why? Because you willfully and knowingly lied to me for all the years of our marriage. Our home was fabricated on lies.What we had is over Segun.”

My heart broke, but I knew it was the best for us. May be somewhere in the future we might find a place to work our way back to what we once shared. I was too hurt to see a way out right now and being truthful to myself was what I owed myself, and the child I carried.

I saw the pain flash through his eyes so fleeting and quickly replaced with an expressionless face.
“Do you want a divorce?”
My no was so quick and vehement, and I did not realise it until I saw the smug look on his face as he closed the gap and kissed my lips ever so lightly that I was not sure if the kiss did happen except for the feelings it evoked. I could never consider a divorce I just needed the space from him till I was able to work out my hurt. But in my quick answer and his smug look, it was easy to see his conclusion that there was still hope.

Omowashe Omorishe#29

Auntie Bimba

second-chance

Me! Abimbade Folashade Adelakun is pregnant!! The joke of the century.

Ever since the Doctor broke the news, I have been like one in a trance.A dream I had long given up on after twenty years of marriage. Days of crying, depression, shame, guilt, questions and tears of why me?I shook my head sadly.I am pregnant at a time when I had given up all hope of ever carrying my child.

The nights, Segun would comfort and reassure me with words of encouragement and how I was worth more than ten children to him, but it was enough to make the longing go away. And now I was in a place where I despised him. I felt betrayed when I found out he had a child who was part of our lives and he never told me. I was still stewing in this hurt and pain, and now this one news we had both been looking forward to since we got married could not be shared.

My hands subconsciously went over my belly, as I tried to feel the new life I carried although there was nothing to show I was pregnant but the Doctors confirmation.

For a brief second it crossed my mind, what if the doctor was wrong? A dozen of gynaecologists had told me in my quest that they could not find any reason why I could not conceive. There was no gynaecologist within the radius of the country that did not have my file with some others in the United States and the United Kingdom. Always with the same result. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

In those early days, it was if the words sentenced me further down into a dungeon of doom. It could have been better if I had an ailment like a blocked fallopian tube or some diagnosis that we could find a solution, but with none, I had to wait for something close to a miracle I never knew what it was that could happen.

I tried the IVF severally to the point I was advised by the gynaecologist to stop concluding that my body kept rejecting it.

“Allow your body rest, and in its own time, you will conceive.” I scoffed at the Doctor, I needed a child and would do a many IVF’s as possible.IVF had to stop after several failed implants that did not yield my dream and millions of naira gone down the drain.

Oh, places my feet trod in the search for a child. I once visited a spiritualist recommended by a friend but took to my heels when he requested I had to have sex with him seven times as my anecdote to wash away the evil spell that had been cast on me, preventing me from conceiving a child.

I looked at the old greyed man with a brown set of broken teeth coloured by constant eating of kola nuts. My first impression of the man wrapped in a white cloth around his loins and red beads hanging on his neck and left wrist was a disaster waiting to happen. A blind man leading another blind man.

He sat there in his filthy hut, located in a deserted bush in one of the villages on the road to Abeokuta from Lagos. How my friend, a fellow learned colleague heard about this man is still a mystery. My friend told me I would not first or the last as people from all works of life with all kinds of problems streaming to him for a solution. He was so powerful that they all got their request granted.

I was desperate for a child but not so desperate to have sex with this creature. How could I possibly live with the thought? Seven days of such a horrible encounter was as good as a lifetime of torture and misery.I imagined that every time I had to have sex with Segun, It would be relieving the madness I had with him.

Sitting in the shamble of a makeshift shelter made of leaves and supported by wood dug into the ground, so filthy I had to hold my breath throughout my stay if that was possible but I think I did.I politely informed him, I needed to go home and prepare and would be back. Of course, I never went back.This experience ended my search ten years ago. I neither visited a gynaecologist nor the miracle baby providers. I long gave up.

There were times I thought of adoption, but I wanted kids out of my womb. I could not get the issue of adoption around my head. I settled as an avid giver to motherless babies homes and was responsible for the education of five children.They were all in different stages of secondary school now, and I started from their primary school.It was rewarding to hear of their excellent performance in school and know I was contributing to society by giving them an education that would make them better citizens.

I tried to think what it would be like having Lana in our lives but there was no point crying over spilt milk. Segun’s betrayal stung like the bite of a bee and stayed like a fish bone in your throat. The pain won’t go away, and the bone won’t go away, and you are as miserable as can be until you seek help.Like a snap, I had a light bulb moment! I needed help to get past the betrayal and not keep musing expecting it to go away naturally.

“Where have my favourite girls been?” was what I heard to bring me out of my reverie. The hiss died in my mouth. I had kept a professional attitude between Segun and me at work, and no one could have suspected that we were living apart except the news from the grapevine which you can’t do without in the office gossips.

I fumbled for my phone in my bag pretending to be so busy searching for the phone. Luckily a call came through, and I did not have to fake one.I signalled, I have to take this call and took a brisk walk to my office, closing my door and turning the lock. A good thing we did not operate the open glass office. There would have been no place to escape.

I have been avoiding any discussion with Segun that was not related to work. He knew it but was not giving up either. Sometimes I did feel like putting a knife through his heart so he could feel the pain he caused me. But on second thought that would be first-degree murder and after that, my surgeon in jail or the gallows. It was not worth it. No man was worth killing no matter the crime he committed.

How could I be angry with him and still be drawn to him? I wanted to harm him and wanted his arms around me. I wanted to be far away from him but still behold his face and bask in his presence. Hate won over love, and I was yet to figure out what to do.

He had a right to hear about our baby, but I could not give him the luxury of a happy feeling. No, I shook my head vehemently. Until I figured out what to do, I would not mention the child.I dropped on the sofa at work, tired of my mental battles and took a deep breath in and exhaled, hoping to let go the negative feelings and thoughts.

What next?

Omowashe Omorishe#28

Sworn to secrecy

second-chance

I settled into my comfortable work life with the additional responsibility of checking on Auntie Bimba more regularly than I should and taking on the role of a PA, from fielding her calls and directing the ones I felt were important to her to arranging her meals

I had seen her throw up three times in one week. I asked her if she had seen her Doctor which she just brushed aside that she was not ready to use drugs hoping the bug will go away.

Auntie Bimba had started locking herself in her office, but I was not put off. Whenever I heard the noise of the flush of a toilet, I guessed she had thrown up again. I started to get worried building theories in my head that perhaps she was suffering from anorexia or bulimia – the eating disorder where you throw up immediately after eating.

I discreetly found out her family doctor and booked an appointment for her on Monday without her knowledge. I would give a fuss if I were the one but no one could change my mind when I am convinced to take action.
Monday morning saw me informing Auntie Bimba doggedly that we were going to Dr Johnson’s office for an appointment I had booked for her.

“Auntie Bimba, it’s either we go now, or I march off to Uncle Segun’s office to inform him,” I threatened.
My threat worked, and we were off to the hospital together.

Mayflower Hospital was a walking distance from the firm, but I offered to drive her there. I went into the Doctor’s office with her. I still did not trust my Auntie to tell the Doctor what had been happening to her.

“I have never been sick in my life as far as I can remember,” blurted Auntie Bimba nervously.

“Calm down Mrs Adelakun. I can see you are doing well. You have no need to worry,”

“Mild headaches and pains that went without me having to use drugs. The feel of nausea will go, once what caused it in my system is flushed out generally,” Auntie Bimba continued as though she had not heard a word the Doctor said.
Doctor Johnson was a short man with piercing eyes behind glasses that rested above his nose. His angular shaped face had a welcoming look unlike the sharp lines around his mouth that eased up when he smiled.

The man did not have the typically calm, cool and collected look of a regular doctor or the kind that left you swooning with romantic thoughts of “the boy met the girl and lived happily ever after.”

Doctor Johnson had a charisma about him that exuded trust and trust was what we desperately needed now. Someone to genuinely tell us we had nothing to fear but a bug that will pass away and all the medical jargon with pills that will make you better.

The doctor asked questions bordering on if she had recently changed her diet, what new foods she had started taking, when last did she see her menstrual cycle? And dozens of other similar questions.

“I am hitting menopause Doctor; I really can’t remember but I suppose that should be menopause.”

“And who is this charming young lady we have here? Is she your daughter?” he asked referring to me.

“She is not my daughter she is my niece. Dr Johnson, have you forgotten Lana?” she asked.
Wasn’t he supposed to know me? He has been their family doctor for years. He should be aware of their family history. I thought to myself.

But with my birth mum surfacing from nowhere and me becoming Uncle Segun’s daughter, he was not far from the truth.

“You mean the little girl you brought in with a deep gash under her feet needing stitching twenty years ago and her screams were loud enough to pull down the walls of the hospital. How we struggled so hard to give her an injection with a dozen nurses trying their best to calm her down,” he reminisced letting out a chuckle.
“Some energy she had then for a girl of only six years,”

“One and only,” Auntie Bimba smiled at the memory.
I had no memory of what they were talking about, but I could relate with the gash under my left foot representing an ugly scar about half an inch long. I had stepped over a broken glass while on a visit to Uncle Segun’s place.

When I was younger, whenever Uncle Segun came to our house, I would cry to follow him back home, and most days, I had my way. The sleepovers diminished as I grew older, but the bond grew stronger

I was filled with nostalgia and wished I could be that innocent girl climbing into Uncle Segun’s lap at every opportunity. We talked about everything then from dreams to boys, fashion to marriage, and career to parenting.

Maybe Uncle Segun had been trying to tell me in different ways, who he was to me but I never got the message. He showed up for all Fathers’ day events at my school under the guise that my own Dad was busy and asked him to represent him. All my friends in University knew Uncle Segun because he was the one who came to visit me at school most of the time. It was either he was just in the area or my parents asked him to check on me to he wanted to be sure his best girl was doing okay.

It slowly dawned on me Uncle Segun had communicated in every way that I was the most important person to him, and not because I was his favourite niece as I was led to believe. It was because I was his child.
So lost was I in my thoughts that I did not hear the rest of the discussion between Doctor Johnson and my Aunt until she tapped me to get my attention.
“Doctor Johnson was commenting that you have grown into a promising young woman and how your parents must be proud of you,”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I smiled with nothing more to say.

“Now let’s look at you Mrs Adelakun,” boomed Dr Johnson.

“Bring it on Doctor. It is not some terminal disease, is it? ” asked Auntie Bimba visibly relaxed without the trepidation I sensed when we first came in.
Who would have thought a full grown woman to be afraid of the hospital, drugs and injection?

My Aunt’s blood and urine were taken for tests at the lab while we waited in the reception watching a Nollywood movie. The type where the mother – in-law had come to make her daughter-in-laws life miserable.
“Pray, you have a lovely mother-in-law like mine. I find these stories strange because I have not experienced any of that. While your grandma was alive, she was my best friend. I could not have wished for a better mother-in-law, but there are crazy ones out there”, she said with her lips pursed in dismay.
“I would stay out of her way if I were the lady,” I said pointing to the actress on the TV. She should avoid the woman like the plague and stop fighting her husband over his mother. Does she not know she is wedging a wall in her relationship with her husband?”
We should never wish…
Her words were cut short with the lab attendant calling her name for the result
I glanced at my watch. We had spent over three-quarter of an hour waiting.
“You are perfectly fine. Your blood count is superb, and there is no malaria.”
Auntie Bimba beamed at me with an “I told you I am okay look.”
“However, you would need to rest more and not exert yourself. Congratulations you are eight weeks pregnant!”
I could not contain my joy as I leapt from my seat and did a jig of joy.
After all these years my Aunt was finally pregnant with her first child.
She sat stunned and speechless.
Dr Johnson was laughing.
“You are pregnant!” he repeated.

I did not have the words to describe the joy I felt at the realisation of the miracle in our lives.

We left the hospital after picking up the necessary vitamins from the pharmacy. Auntie Bimba was still in a daze and more quiet.

Uncle Segun will be over the moon with this news; I commented as brought out my phone to call him.
“Don’t call him, Lana, I need to tell him myself, but more importantly I need to figure out what I want to do. Things have changed for us, and I can’t spring a pregnancy on him. Please promise me you would be quiet about this. It is a secret till I am ready to tell or it sells me out.
“You can’t hide a pregnancy can you?” She chuckled. The closest to a laugh since we found out she was pregnant.

I could not get it around my head how I was going to keep this piece of news to myself.
“Lana, please do not tell anyone about this,” she pleaded.
I hate what she wanted me to do, but I had to give in. It was not my place to break such news. It was for her to tell who she wanted and if she wanted to keep the news to herself, she had a limited time to hide, at most four more months and the secret is out for the whole world.

But what is it with secrets and my family?

Omowashe Omorishe#27

To be or not to be

Leave of absence! What would I be doing? The last couple of weeks I had almost died from boredom. What would happen now? I might become boredom personified. My parents have put their feet down that I must take the much-needed rest to recover before going back to work. Their argument being that the stress from work could induce a relapse.

second-chance Uncle Segun offered to pay my salary for that period if that was why I wanted to go back to work, or I could resume a role in his law firm working two hours a day.
My reasons fell on deaf ears, and I ended up abiding by my family’s wishes. What does it take for a family to stop meddling in ones’ affairs? Why is it so difficult for them to realise I am no longer a child but an adult capable of taking care of myself?

I agreed to work at Uncle’s Segun’s Law firm but insisted on four hours a day which I was obliged.

Adelakun & Adelakun Partners was an ideal law firm with about ten staff – six Lawyers, an administrative officer and office assistant. My coming on board was of no relevance to the company or so I thought. However, getting into the organisation, I could see a lot needed to be done to reorganise the office. And the myriad of paper and documents stashed in one corner of the entrance required emergency attention.

I was ecstatic to see Auntie Bimba in the office on resumption. The last I heard, she still had not returned home. Seeing her in the firm she co-owned with Uncle Segun was a good sign to me.

“Hello Auntie,” I greeted courtesying in the traditional way.

“Hi Lana, it is great to see you looking so well. One can hardly believe you were the one I came visiting looking so emaciated some few weeks back. Your eyes sparkle,” commented Auntie Bimba.
I glowed at her words. I knew I looked better than the first week I came out of the hospital but not as good as the picture Auntie Bimba painted.

“Thank you, auntie. And how are you doing?” I asked with more concern than I could hide.

“I am hanging in there, my dear,” she sighed.

“It is a lot to take in. But I see you have adjusted well,” said Auntie Bimba. It was more of a comment than the sarcastic feel of the words.

“Oops!, that sounded mean. I did not mean it that way,” apologised Auntie Bimba.

“I know auntie. You have a heart of gold. I am proud of the way you are handling it, and I know things will sort itself out,” I offered my unsolicited words of encouragement boldly.
Auntie Bimba smiled, and my heart broke at how sad she looked.
“I hope so,” she answered.

“It was disheartening to see she had lost the spunk she had for life.
Why was she walking away and not putting up a fight for her home?

“I hope you don’t find this place boring. I hear you are off work till you get much better.But the Lana I know it must have taken a whole lot to get you to give into this idea.”

“Your husband has his ways,” I said laughing as I stepped out of her office.

Questions were being asked by family members if Uncle Segun would be getting back with my birth mum.
I hoped not. How could Uncle Segun throw the years of history with Auntie Bimba to follow someone who left him in the cold with a child and now wants the whole family package back?
I know he has been meeting with my birth mum and the rumours going around by family members was that if Auntie Bimba insists on staying out. Uncle Segun was justified to bring her back after all the family was complete with, mother-child and father even if the cords that bound us together was brittle.
I was barely out when I heard the scrape of her chair on the ground, and suddenly I could hear the noise from feet rushing.
I turned back into her office and saw her kneeling on the floor of the opened toilet throwing up.

“Auntie, do you need help?” I asked worriedly.

“I’ll be okay. I must have taken something that upset my stomach.”

She washed her face and cleaned up and sat on the guest sofa.

“I will be fine, don’t worry about me. See the look of on your face,” teased Auntie Bimba.

“How did you cope in the hospital if you can’t bear to see anyone in pain?” she asked.
I smiled and quietly left the room after making sure, she was okay and had dozed off on the seat.

Was Auntie Bimba, taking the issue between her and Uncle Segun more than she was letting on. I needed to keep an eye on her and let Uncle Segun know if there was anything.

*******

“You would need to have a meeting with her. Hear her out and talk things over with her. I do not think she is asking to come into our lives. She is just asking to make peace with her child,” said Uncle Segun trying to convince me.

“You think so?” I asked.

I did not want to have that meeting. I do not know if it was out of fear of finding out that I never meant anything to my birth mum. Perhaps she was here because her conscience won’t let her live with it. It was not that she loved me.

For two whole weeks, Uncle Segun kept barging me with the question of if I was ready. I could not understand the urgency of his persuasion, but I stubbornly refused to give in. He could barge me into taking six weeks leave of absence from work without pay, start work in his law firm, but he could not get me to have a meeting with my birth mother when I was not ready.

“When do you think, you’ll be ready?” Andrew asked as we talked over the phone which had become our daily routine. We talked every day over the phone and met up during weekends when none of us was busy.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I would ever be ready. I just want to have my life the way it has always been. I don’t want the confusion of my birth mum and my adopted mum or whatever. She gave me away years ago, and I want it to remain that way. She does not owe me any explanation. Period,” I argued and upset we were having this conversation.

“Do you feel anything for her?” Andrew prodded.

“No,” I answered.

“Then why are you upset with her?”

“I am not!” I raised my voice over reacting.

“You would need to make the decision on your own. One that you would not regret some years down the line. If I were to give you a candid advice, I’d suggest you hear what your birth mum has to say and make peace.

“Make what peace?” I lashed out.

“Make peace to someone who until some few weeks back I did not know existed? Make peace with a stranger who is called my mother because she gave birth to me? Make peace to a woman who was not woman enough to sacrifice for her child?
She is but a stranger to me. I owe her nothing. I had made my peace even before she came along. She should make her peace with her maker, not me. She owes me nothing.
The silence as a result of my outburst was deafening.
I was heaving and breathing over the phone, as I held onto it tightly.
I could hear Andrew’s breath on the other side of the phone but he said nothing.
We must have held on for more than fifteen minutes, and I broke the silence.

“Okay, I’ll try and hear her out,” I said grudgingly.

“It will all work out,” he said confidently over the phone.

“You don’t owe her anything, but you owe yourself to hear her out and make your decision.”

I knew Andrew was telling the truth, so I half-promised to hear her out in my own time but not right now.

Omowashe Omorishe#26

I dare to hope

second-chance After four weeks in the hospital, I was finally allowed to go home. I had lost a lot of weight, my eyes and cheeks sunken. I gasped as I gazed at my reflection in the mirror while trying to apply a little makeup to my face. A good sign that I was doing much better. Three weeks ago I was too sick to be bothered about my looks. I would spend my energy getting better.

Diabetes type 2! I thought I heard the doctor say that was the kind of diabetes I had. I was asking what were the chances of cure from my doctor when he looked at me quizzically.
“Who told you it’s a type 2?” He asked.

“One of the doctors I guess,” I replied.
I doubt I could have made that up or it the disease affecting my memory too.

“type 1, not 2,” said the doctor correcting me.

“Type 1 or 2 what are my chances of getting better and living a healthy life,” I asked getting infuriated not even the counselling had given me the answers I want. They have all been politically correct in their responses.

“I wish I could tell you what you want to hear but if you keep to your medication, you will be okay.”

What he was saying was what I already knew, but I was hoping there would have been a change after all the weeks in the hospital.I was feeling more like my old self.

“Your drugs and medication would be given to you before you leave. Make sure you adhere strictly to them or else you might be back here again, and it may be more grievous.You need to do all you can to take care of yourself if you want to stay alive,” said Dr Kola gravely.

I wanted to stay alive but not with diabetes. There must be a cure. Science was too advanced for there not to be a cure. There should be a breakthrough in diabetes research. I have to believe I will overcome. The diseases will not waste my body.

I was glad to be out of the hospital. I wished I had not listened to my mother and had rented an apartment of my own. I would have to get a place in the coming weeks. I went home with mum and Uncle Segun. He would not listen to my feeble protest of he did not need to bother with me.

“Auntie, can I come in for dinner? I am tired of eating at my usual restaurant,” asked Uncle Segun.

I looked at him puzzled and forgot my resolve not to talk to him and only answer his questions in monosyllables. I was still upset with him.
However, it was easier said to forgive and let go than done. I thought I had let go, but I was far from it. It did look like I had a long way to go.

“What about Auntie Bimba?” I asked.

“She moved out after I told her you were my daughter. She was shocked I could have hidden such a secret from her all these years, not that I blame her,” he answered sadly.

I was not the only one dealing with Uncle’s Segun’s betrayal. I should be glad he is getting paid back in his coin. Rather I was sad that the two people who made my fantasy of marriage a reality now had cracks in their home, threatening to destroy the fabric of their union.
No secret is worth keeping. There is always a gestation period, and the truth out for everyone. Why does it take people so long to realise that secrets were only a matter of time?

I was speechless and since I did not know what to say. I did the best thing by keeping my mouth shut. Uncle Segun and Auntie Bimba had the wisdom to sort whatever problem they encountered. It was not for me to start giving counsel I did not have.

Uncle Segun came in for a meal of Amala and ewedu soup quickly whipped together by my mum. She asked if I wanted some and apologised when it dawned on her that it was carbohydrate and should not be part of my meal. My lifestyle has become a list of rules and diet that must be abided.

I walked into my old room. The last time I was in the room was the day of the introduction. That day looked like a million years away. I was no longer that girl whose life was a filled with promise and hope of happily ever after. It was a reality of pain, sickness and dream cut short if I allow it.

I dragged myself to the bed and laid down hugging the teddy bear Bode had given me. Drawing comfort that being here today is a sign that although my life would be different from now on, I would live every day to the fullest.

* * * * *
My phone vibrated, and I picked it up to read the message.

Andrew: Are you home?
Me: Yes I am.
Andrew: Up for a visit.
Me: Yes.
Andrew: Will check on you shortly. I am on my way home.

The constant in my life have been my friends and family. They have all found time amidst their busy schedule to check on me more regularly than I would have given credit.
The other day Auntie Bimba had come around to visit. I was excited to see her and hoped I would be able to convince her to go back to Uncle Segun.
I could understand her hurt although it was deeper than mine. I was the child. She was his wife. I wondered if their marriage could ever be the same again. Trust, although broken could be restored with time.

She did not say much to me, although I did ask when she was going back to Uncle Segun. I am yet to come to terms with calling him, father.

My parents were discussing the other day of a possibility of divorce, but I did not think she would. It might take her a longer time to come around forgiving my uncle, but Auntie Bimba did not look like one who would ask for a divorce.

The visits were brief but filled with messages of hope and encouragement except for some tactless people who had gory tales of individuals with diabetes. How do you come to encourage someone and fill them with stories of fear? I have learnt not to dwell on those terrible stories, and I can tell you it’s been hard wiping them out of my memory.

One of my aunts came the other day and was wailing of my inability to get pregnant due to the disease. I had not explored that angle, but my mother was quick to shut her up that the doctor had said I had a chance to live a normal life. Secretly, I wondered if my mum was not being protective and had just made that up, but since I was neither looking for romance nor marriage, they need not bother.

Bode visited me every day that I felt so sorry for the guy.
“You need a break. You have not been able to process what has happened to us and what you want to do. You should take time off work and make plans. Find a nice girl to marry,” I said almost choking on my words.

“Someone like you, cousin,” said Bode always using that endearment for me. Although I felt like it was more a reminder to him that I was his cousin and no longer the girl who held his heart than he was letting us believe.

“I could help you. We could go through a list of my friends,” I offered.

“I am not that desperate,” said Bode crisply.
I took the cue to drop the subject.

“Have you thought of seeing your birth mum?” asked Bode.

“I don’t think of her as my mother,” I answered tonelessly.

I still did not want to have anything to do with her. She and I were strangers, and that was what we would always be. Not asking for more, especially with the circumstance she abandoned me.

“Does she know me?” I asked, for a moment fantasising that she was pining for her abandoned daughter.

“No, I have not told my family that you are her daughter. She still thinks there is a girl somewhere with Uncle Segun.

“Good. Please don’t tell your family,” I begged, and I don’t know why I wanted him to hide the fact that he nearly married his first cousin.

The truth was I could not deal with anyone asking for forgiveness or expecting more from me. I was not hurt just indifferent. I was neither curious nor interested. I preferred not to rock my boat.

****

A soft knock rapped on my door.
Without checking, I knew who it was. It was the way he knocked so gentle that you could barely hear it.

“Come in,” I said softly but loud enough to be heard by the person on the other side of the door.

Andrew came in his presence filling the space as he took his seat on the chair by my bedside.

“How are you doing today, I hope you are not getting lazier by the day? So much work is waiting for you at the office,” he teased in his usual banter that I forget many times he is still my boss at work.

“I can’t wait to be back, up and running.”

My mother came in overhearing my response.

“You need to make sure Lana takes it slowly at work. She will forget all about herself and focus on the job. We cannot afford that right now,” said my mum to Andrew placing a glass cup of orange juice on the table beside his chair and handing me a tray of spicy fish pepper soup.

I adjusted my pillows sitting up properly to take the soup from her.

“Ma, do you think she still needs to be babied? She must be enjoying all the pampering so much that the thought of work must be nonexistence in her plans,” Andrew said to my mother with a grave look on his face yet eyes crinkling with laughter.

“You wish!” I retorted rolling my eyes.

“If it were possible, I would gladly exchange with you. You can have all the pepper soup in the world you want,” I teased back.

I loved Andrew’s visits. They were lively and filled with the usual banter Bode, and I used to share. He was able to look beyond my situation and still see me. It was easy to be my old self and not get weighed down with my present condition.

I would laugh and beg him to stop. I hated when his visits ended, and I had only my thoughts of fear to entertain me. Would I beat this disease? Would I be able to live a normal life?

Omowashe omorishe#25

Wrong diagnosis

diagnosisstamp

My stay in the hospital which should not have taken more than three days took a downturn. I was not getting any better rather weaker and weaker. The Doctor kept insisting on his dehydration diagnosis. One would have thought that with all drips my body had been subjected too would have provided my system with the required fluid. Going into near cardiac arrest was what gave an indication that all was not well with me. I was grappling with more than just dehydration.

Wrong diagnosis. Andrew pleaded with his mum to take my case although she was not the doctor seeing me. After that, I was made to run series of tests using my blood and urine. All sorts of scans and prodding and poking of my body.
Did I think my family issue was the worst to happen to me? Being told I had diabetes type 2 was a more devastating news. What brought me to the hospital in the first place paled compared to the diagnosis. The doctor said that had it not been detected, my body system would have shot down due to the high glucose in my blood.

Anger and hurt are forgotten. I was fighting for my life. The first time I visited the hospital during Peju’s wedding was a giveaway symptom missed by the doctors. I have heard of how people died by the wrong diagnosis but never thought I would be a victim. For a very famous and well – recognised hospital who would have thought? How did the doctor miss it? No performing of a lab test was required just a physical examination and a concluded prognosis.

I overheard Uncle Segun ranting that if anything happened to me, he was going to sue the hospital and make sure the medical council revoked their license to operate. They were not fit to be called a hospital but a death centre.

It took the hospital Medical Director who was passing by at the time of his ranting to calm down. He insisted that I should be referred to another hospital or be handed over to a more competent doctor. The Medical Director assured him Andrew’s mum who is a clinical consultant had taken over my case.

Diabetes? Me? At my age. Diabetes was an old person disease. A terminal illness. How long did I have to leave? Would I have time to make peace with my parents and uncle before I die? Would I be able to work or would I be bedridden like my grandma and subjected to eating only protein and little or no carbohydrates with the drugs to take round the clock?

The thought of it would have killed me. Had not the Hospital brought in a counsellor to talk me through what diabetes is and is not and what I need to do and look out for to ensure I stayed alive and well? It was not a killer disease. I could manage it and live a normal life.

Isn’t it so funny how we hear about a disease so often but have our misconceptions? Yes, people do die from diabetes, but a whole more people learn to live with it and thrive without succumbing to it. How more wrong could my life go from here? I have become invalid and no more a whole person. Now I had to watch my diet and watch myself around the clock Death stared me in the face and I knew I did not want to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to come to terms with my heritage and achieve all my goals. I wanted to live, love and laugh and if possible do all in luxury and style and not with diabetes. I wanted to beat the disease.

Most days I was so exhausted that visitors’ hours were no more than thirty minutes. I could barely keep my eyes open with all the drugs injected into me.
Bode and Andrew still made for visiting hours. Sometimes as little as five minutes but they put in so much effort to see me smile. My voice was all raspy. It was tiring to talk. I would smile, nod or blink to let them know I was hanging in there while they did all the talking and joking like I was not ill.

Uncle Segun dropped in every day and my parents, but whenever I saw them, I feigned to be asleep. I had forgiven them in my way, so I thought but was not ready to face them or talk about it to them until I was much stronger.

Andrew’s mum who was now my Doctor became my friend and confidant. There are days she would stop by after her clinical rounds and just spend time with me talking and reassuring me. She seemed to read my fears and did her best to allay them.

She would tell me of her story as a young girl whose father was one of the British colonial masters and married a Nigerian. Growing up in Ikoyi then and how she left for England at age ten or how she met Andrew’s father while in the University in England and fell in love with him at first sight. She did not think twice when he asked her to marry him and follow him back to Nigeria. She has been in Nigeria since with no regrets.

She would talk about her career how difficult it was to be one of the few female doctors at the time. Sometimes it would be about her kids. The stunts Andrew pulled as a kid. It was hard to picture the same person I knew. When she talked about her daughter, she would go emotional on how she missed her. You could see the mother-daughter bond based on mutual friendship and respect.

I loved what I had with my mum but knowing she was not my birth mum made a mockery of what we shared. To think that I would argue with my elder sister then that I was mother’s favourite and was not even her daughter. I have to give her credit as an amazing woman. I never felt I was not her child. It was confusing, but I did not want to dwell on that. I needed to focus all my energy on getting better and leaving the hospital.

omowashe omorishe#24

Healing

family I woke up in a strange but luxurious room. The bed was heavenly. I must be in a dream I concluded.However, the events of yesterday came flashing through my mind and how I got here.

Andrew had offered me his place, and with no other favourable option, I took the offer. He lived with his parents in a twin duplex. His parents were on the other wing.

Staying over at a guy’s place was not my thing but nothing of my life in the last 24 hours has been my thing. I left the lounge at 2.00am in the morning in Andrew’s car while Bode sorted how to get his car back home.

It was silly the way Bode was practically handing me over to Andrew when I insisted I was not going home or to his mother’s place either.

Stretching on the bed like a lazy cat, I reluctantly checked my watch, it was 11.00 am. Aahh! I groaned as I dragged myself out of bed. What a terrible guest, I must be, sleeping the whole morning without any regard for my host.
I took in the environment and the display of wealth in the house. We all knew our boss came from a wealthy home, but this was more than we had imagined.

I got out of bed and tried to find my way downstairs to the living room without getting lost in the massive house. I felt in love with the whole place. I must have been blind not to have noticed this last night.

The coffee brown and teal living room lightly decorated with fabulous pieces intricately used together to give a warm and cosy space. The teal geometric wallpaper used as a focal point and the triple wire mesh ball like chandelier dropping down in the space asymmetrically without the light on was the look that finished off the exquisite décor.

I drank in the beauty of the area like one thirsty for wonder, enjoying the calmness I felt by just being there. Whoever said that the interior design of a house did not matter been proven wrong. The elegance of the place had a soothing balm to my nerves.

My eyes rested on a large picture behind the coffee brown leather sofa. It was Andrew smiling into the camera with another beautiful lady who could put Miss world to shame with her looks. She was fair skinned and looked half-caste, with big cute eyes lined in black kohl pencil, an aristocratic nose, every girl dreamed off and beautiful thin lips in bright red lipstick. Her hair was in long big braids falling over her shoulders.
They did look the perfect couple, and I was happy he had finally found someone. It seemed a lifetime ago we had a discussion on his dating status. How did he miss sharing this bit with me? I frowned wondering where he was so I could accuse him.

I wandered to the dining. There was a large note on the table
“Off to church. Did not want to wake you. Please help yourself with breakfast. I would be back soon.”

My stomach growled with hunger. When was the last time I had a meal? That must have been breakfast yesterday.

I got into the kitchen, which was the same colour as the living room, coffee brown wood for the furniture and touches of teal used in accessories around and cream walls like every other wall in the whole house was in Cornsilk, a variation of cream. Whoever had done the decor of this place had a rich taste. It was both welcoming and captivating. Your eyes moved around harmoniously, not jumping from one item to the other. It was a space you wanted to come to every day. The colour combination was one I had envisioned in my mind to try when I eventually got my place. To see the colour used here was like Deja Vu.

I put the kettle on to boil while I made toast, everything you needed for a simple breakfast had been laid out. I managed a small smile. Who would think that Andrew was one of those domesticated guys? But then, I should not credit him alone, the girl in the picture would have helped out. Wasn’t that obvious I reminded myself.

Not everyone was like me. I rarely visited Bode at his home. But that could be because he shuttled between two homes. His and his mother’s. And when I did go to his place, I never bothered to change anything to establish my presence there. I believed when we did marry. I would have all the time to do his home to my heart content, but a fiancée was no wife, and I was going to enjoy that role while it lasted.
If only I knew the tragedy waiting around the corner for me.

The thought shot a pain through my heart. I should not be visiting the land of misery today. I had to pull myself together and start thinking how to get out of this hole of pain. I had to move forward, settle with my parents, my birth parents and start thinking what I wanted to do with my life. Marriage was out for me. I could not go through this pain again.

I wish I had been true to myself. Karma must be catching up with me.
Had I not shied away from any relationship until I met Bode. Did I not push him away to focus on my career but my heart was not strong enough to follow my head. My life was beautiful with Bode. He completed me in every way. With Bode, I felt so alive that there was never a dull moment. He loved me, and there was no doubt about it. He knew every button to press to make me smile, laugh and not take life too seriously. I could loosen up and be myself without fear of criticism or failure. Bode never felt threatened by my success, and rather he urged me on to push to the highest limit. He was successful in what he did and wanted it for everyone around him.

I wiped the lone tear from my eyes. I did not think I had any more tears to shed. The ache in my heart was killing me.

There was also the issue of Uncle Segun. I wanted him to pay for being the cause of my pain. If only they had been truthful about my heritage. I would have known Bode was my cousin and what existed between us would never have happened.
What do I do about my birth Mother? I was not ready to see her. We had nothing in common. If she could give me up for whatever reason, she did not deserve my time or attention now. She did not love me enough to keep me. Why would she love me now?
Love. Was I ever loved? My parents did. They took me in when they did not have to. I thought Uncle Segun did at a time, but this new revelation threatened everything I knew about my family and myself.
I was nobody! The stark realisation hit me like a cannon ball. I held myself as I sat on the floor of the kitchen and cried. I was nobody! My mother rejected me from birth. She saw nothing desirable in me to make her keep me.

*******
Andrew Akande

I met Lana balled on the floor in my kitchen when I came back from church. Initially, I was afraid she might have passed out. I called out her name in panic. She stirred and opened her eyes.
Looking at her surroundings, she looked up at me aghast.

“I am so sorry, I must have slept off,” said Lana as she struggled up to stand up only to crumble into a heap.

I called my mother quickly who was a doctor to come over.
My mum set to work immediately she came but not without a look of disapproval.

“Call for an ambulance from the hospital and her family to meet us at the hospital,” she commanded.

“What happened to her?” my mum inquired feeling her pulse.

“She is going through a rough time,” I answered without going into details.

The ambulance came in record time and took Lana to the hospital.

I called her parents on my way to the hospital so they could meet us there.

At the hospital, I was in the reception waiting for any information when her parents rushed in followed by Uncle Segun. I smiled as the word a “father’s heart” came to mind.

“How is she?” he asked apprehensively.

“The doctors have not brought any report yet,” I answered.

“She is taking it harder than we thought,” her father said while her mother took a seat exhausted.

“We can’t have come this far to lose her. She needs to gather herself together. People have gone through worse in life, and they came out triumphantly. She has to do the same,” her father continued.

“We thought Lana was a fighter. She is not one to give up easily on projects because of their level of difficulty. She went headlong until she accomplished the task. Why is this different?” chipped in Lana’s mother.

“They were projects, ma, and she had a strong support system in you, her family. She knew she could do anything because she had your love and affection. But now in her thinking, she has lost all that and so there is no will to fight,” I offered an explanation from my perspective.

“She still has our love and affection,” argued her father.

“She does not know that in her mind. You all have to show her that.”

Turning to Uncle Segun. I felt compelled to brief him since I had picked Lana from the lounge on his request.
“We have not spoken yet. Lana narrowly missed being killed in a crumbled building yesterday at midnight where I picked her up after you called me. She was okay when we got home.

This morning, I met her on the floor. l She passed out when she tried to stand up. We pray she would be okay.

“She would be fine. She has to be,” said Uncle Segun more to convince himself.

We all scrambled up as the doctor came, It was not my mother.

“We have sedated her to rest. She should be better and ready to leave when she wakes up. She was dehydrated but is on a drip.

I could see the relief wash over her parents and uncle and could only imagine what they were going through. The hospital scare was the second for Lana in a year.

One good thing that came out of this would be her going back to her family.

“Thank you, Andrew, for all your help. We would not want to keep you,” said Uncle Segun.

A nurse came out that Lana was asking for me.
I looked at her parents, unsure if I should go. I was not family.

“Go in quickly, we have to abide by her wishes,” said her mother.

Lana looked tired all over.

“You look like someone a train has just hit,” I teased.

“I feel far worse,” she said weakly.

“Try not to talk,” I said.

“Are my parents out there?” she asked suspiciously.

“Of course Lana, they are and Uncle Segun. They care about you so much.”

“My parents and uncle have a funny way of showing it. If only you knew,” she said.

“Family will always be family. No family is perfect. We make mistakes but do not allow those mistakes to define the relationship. Your uncle and parent might have hurt you but they love you deeply, and it was out of love for you, they did what they did although, you feel they could have done better,” I said hoping my words will reach out to her.

“ But it hurts. It hurt so badly. I lose a fiancé, and my family hides my true identity.”

“It is okay to hurt Lana, allow yourself to hurt and start healing.
What you feel is normal and now out of place but if you decide to stay in a rut and enable the hurt to eat at you. You will be destroying yourself. Talk to them. Tell them how you feel and give them the space to tell you why they did it.
I cannot convince you that the pain will go away immediately, but if you allow yourself, healing will come gradually.
Would you promise to give yourself that chance?”

I started into her eyes willing her to be strengthened and opened for healing.
“With that look, do I have a choice?” You could be on your knees begging,” she said with a sad smile and quickly looked away but not before I saw a tear drop on her cheek.
I squeezed her hand.
“You have a friend whenever you need one. And this friend says you’ll be fine.”
“To think I thought the worst of you. I am ashamed,” Lana said with a voice filled with regret.
“Shhhh leave the past where it belongs and look ahead to a bright future of hope and beauty,” I said as I put my index finger to her lips.

Omowashe Omorishe#23

Like a dying flower

a-dying-flower Lana

I drove around in and out of traffic for hours losing track of time. Thoughts were racing through my head till my mind was going numb. I had no plan where to go. After hours of driving with no destination, I turned into a lounge, still in the traditional buba and iro, attire I had worn for my failed introduction. I used the extra piece tied around my waist to wrap my head, covering my ears and removing all the pieces of jewellery I wore.

It was precarious to be here alone, no need to make the situation worse by drawing any attention to myself.

I had never been to a lounge. It was not my style of winding down, but tonight there was no home to go. I had sent myself on a self-exile. No friend to crash with – I did not want to add my burden to Peju’s difficult pregnancy.

Bode was not an option either. I needed to get used to having him out of my life as a fiancée. Although, he would always be in my life as a relation. Isn’t this crazy? I must have said that for the umpteenth time to myself, but there was no better word to describe what I was going through. Yeah, crazy!crappy!!creepy!!!!!

Standing at the entrance of the bar, I took a quick scan around while allowing my eyes time to adjust to the dim light. The place looked sane enough for me.
I slid into the nearest table I could find, fished for a book out of my handbag and put it on the chair, giving the appearance of having a partner. I settled to enjoy the jazz music provided by a life band.

An attendant came to take my order. I paid for a glass of Chapman making sure there was no form of alcohol in my drink. I knew from experience what a little alcohol could do to me.

I lost count of the hours that must have gone. The life band have stopped playing. I could feel the curious glances at my table, but I did not care.

Just when I was about to relax, a man staggered to my table, tried to seat and noticed the book.

“ I do not think your partner is coming tonight,” he slurred the words as he removed the book to place it on the table and dropped into the vacant seat He was drunk.

Terror gripped me. I knew I should be afraid yet I was indifferent. I was scared and not scared simultaneously. Scared, he might try to hurt me. Detached that whatever pain inflicted, would be a far cry to my bruised, broken and bleeding heart.

There were people around, but most were either half or dead drunk. I knew I should not have come here but this was the only opened place I could fit in at that time of the night, and I was not thinking.

Someone tapped the guy.
“Excuse me, gentleman, I am with the lady.”
I almost leapt and threw myself at Andrew.
The drunk was gentleman enough to stand up

“Sorry man,” he slurred and staggered away.
I looked curiously at Andrew. “What are you doing here?”

“I think that should be my cue, not yours.
I am shocked to see you here, and you came alone, he said as he scanned the place like an FBI agent.

“Bode?” I asked, and answered.

“He is not here, through no fault of his,” I said defensively.

“I am here alone, and that is a long story,” I concluded.

“We have the whole night,” he answered tightly.
I could see he was trying to calm his anger.

“Are you here to get hurt? Why would you come to a place like this alone and at night?”
I was not going on any guilt trip or allow someone send me there either.
I gestured to him to stop.

“Maybe I want to get hurt,” I muttered.
Andrew stared at me neither stunned nor upset at my words which heightened my suspicion.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Your uncle sent me,” he answered in his personal integrity.

“Uncle Segun, he knew I was here?” I whispered.

“Is my uncle in the Mafia or something or do I have a bodyguard I am not aware exists?”

I was getting furious. I needed space to process the development in my life and not interference.

“Do you want to talk?” Andrew asked.

“I do not know what I want,” I replied truthfully.
My head was beginning to hurt badly.

“Let me take you home,” Andrew offered.

“I am not going home,” I answered stubbornly.
Home was the last place I wanted to be now.

“You can’t stay here all night,” he said exasperatedly.
“What about Bode?”

“No,” I replied vehemently.

Whatever Uncle Segun had told Andrew, he did not seem to have the whole story.

“Peju?” He asked.

“She would have been my first call, but I suspect she has a difficult pregnancy. I don’t want to add to her burden.”

“You might be if I have to leave you here alone, Andrew said his jaws were tightening as I saw the lines harden around his mouth.

“I am not the one who asked you to come.
I can take care of myself, you know. I was not asking for help when you came.I could have handled that man on my own,” I argued.

“I could see that,” said Andrew nodding his head reminding me of the many fables of the agama lizard I heard as a child.

Standing up, he took the book on the table and my handbag,
“Let’s go,” he commanded in a voice I had never heard him use before, that did not welcome any argument.

We were barely outside when a part of the building came crashing down. There were rubble and dust everywhere. Screams and groans from men trapped inside the building
I was shaking all over to think that I could have been in that building had Andrew not taken me out. To think that I would have also gotten him killed.

How do you feel you do not want to live but when death comes calling you are not willing to answer and an escape puts your life in a perspective you have failed to notice.

I could hear the sirens from afar as the place became agog with lights and activity.People from neighbourhood were rushing out to the scene some to render help while others out of curiosity and a story to tell. The young men took over searching for people to help while we waited for more help from the government.
Andrew left me to join the rescue mission after making sure I was okay. And not before calling Bode to alert him what had happened.

Bode must have either flown or telepathed himself because it could not have been roughly fifteen minutes he showed up.
“Are you okay,” he asked, looking at me and then the rubble?
I knew what he was thinking.
How my foolishness would have caused pain to my family, my birth parents and friends.

“I am sorry,” was the only intelligible word I could utter while trying not to cry and be strong.

Omowashe omorishe#22

Clueless Destination

lagos-at-night Bode

Lana drove off in my car. I did not feel comfortable leaving her alone. But with Lana, it could be difficult sometimes getting her to see reason when her mind is made up.
What was I thinking? I dashed into the house to get a key to another car. Where could she have gone? I racked my brain. Like a light bulb flicked on, I recalled the tracker fixed to my car.
Who would have thought that purchasing a product to encourage a sales rep would become a life saver? In fact, I bought two that fateful day with no use for the product but to help someone achieve his sales target.
I swiped open my phone to the application and there the car was still on the mainland.
I made up my mind to follow close by to ensure that she was safe. I could understand the need to be alone and the anger, but I also knew she needed to be careful.
I followed Lana for hours, almost cursing for the needless night drive foiled by her hurt. There was no pattern. It did not look like she was going anywhere. She drove in circles on the mainland and headed off to the Island.

On getting to Victoria Island, she turned in and out of streets sometimes coming back to the same point and driving off again.

At the point when I was beginning to wonder if we were going to spend the rest of our evening driving around Lagos with danger lurking from men of the night, she turned into a lounge.

There was no pattern for Lana tonight. She was tangential from her norm. A lounge? Lana ? If anyone had told me, I would have vehemently argued that It was impossible. I knew how she cringed her nose when her friends mentioned going to a lounge. But hey! Nothing that happened today has been the usual. Today was an unusual day.
In as much as I hated to be anywhere near a lounge with the drinking and heavy smoking going on I considered it my duty to be around her just in case, she needed help. Lana will pull down the roof If she found out I followed her but as long as she did not get into trouble, I did not need to show up.

I sat in my car as she took a moment to get out. Perhaps reconsidering the wisdom in coming here but just when I was about to heave a sigh of relief that she could be changing her mind, she opened her car and stepped out.
Lana is stunning beautiful although she had no clue what her looks did. I did not feel it was wise to be here alone and hoped the night would be uneventful.
She picked her lace piece and wrapped her head transforming her to about ten years older, but you can’t hide your looks by just a head cover. She would need more than that to draw away attention from her.
Hesitantly, she walked in, and with each step, the shouting in my head only grew louder to drag her home while I battled with letting her be.

My phone vibrated on the dashboard; it was a strange number but who could be calling me at 11 pm?

I picked the call, and immediately recognised the voice at the other end.
“Hello, Bode.” The voice was laced thick with worry.
“Hello Sir,” I responded feeling sorry for the man.
“Is Lana with you?” he asked with a hint of hope.
“No, she is not,” I answered which was not a lie.
He sighed with anxiety.

“She left home angry, and she is not picking her calls. We do not know where she is.

I was angry with him for keeping such secret from her, but it was not my place to air my opinion. There were family and will sort their problems out.

“You must be angry with me,” he said reading my mind.
I shrugged although he could not see me.
I did not deny it

“I have my regrets, what I thought was the best for her as I watched her grow, happy with my brothers family. I did not want to shatter her sense of family and security at a young age. I had hoped she would understand when she was older. Every year, there was always a reason to push it away. She graduated with honours, not this year. She went for service, not this year, and then she got a good job, not this year and, your breakup then, not that year either, she needed time to heal, time to be fulfilled to receive the news. But I failed to understand that there would never have been a better time.
Imagine the shock today that she could have married her cousin. You could be siblings considering your mothers are twins.”

I let him speak without interrupting. Apparently, the man needed listening ears not judgemental words.

“I underestimated the pain and hurt Lana would go through. I have never seen her so angry like I did today.

“Do you have any idea where she would be?”
It was a father’s plea, and my heart did not give to torture the man. Although, I would not have minded him paying a little if not all for my present dilemma.
He was not thinking of Lana only. He was also thinking of himself. He was waiting for the convenient time for both of them.
But who was I? He was man enough to admit he handled the situation wrongly. The only help I could give was to reassure him. I would not want his death on my head.

“She is at Le Blanco Louge on the Island. I followed her there, but she does not know.

“ Thank you, Bode. Thank you for giving peace to a father’s heart.
I think we should call her friend at work, the boss. A neutral person might help her see things in a better perspective.

A twinge of jealousy gripped my heart but why? I had never bothered about the closeness I saw between the two of them.
I beat my head why did I not think of that earlier. She apparently needed someone not connected to the drama she was going through.
I had no right to be jealous. Lana is now my cousin and not my fiancee. I must have said that over twenty times to myself like a mantra since Lana blurted it out to me some hours ago.
I need to put it in focus. Lana is my cousin. Tradition forbade us to get married.

It was not up to twenty minutes I spoke to Lana’s Uncle Segun when a car parked beside mine. It was Lana’s Boss. What’s his name again Drew or Andrew?

I got out of my car to say hello, and from the grim look on his face, he probably knew the whole story.
I stretched my hand to shake him

“ I am so sorry,” he offered genuinely drawing me into a brotherly hug, A part of me wanted to hate him but I could not. If he meant any harm, I probably would not have had Lana back. It was wrong of me to think badly of him. He has only being a friend, and a friend is what Lana needed now.

“Thanks, man. Now I can go home to sleep if it comes,” I tried at a small joke.

“She is all yours, but please don’t mention you saw me here tonight,” I begged.

“Lana will wring my neck for following her here,” I feigned a look of terror.

“You are the lucky one,” he retorted.
“How do I explain dropping in on her in the middle of the night at a lounge. The girl is full of surprises.Lana at a bar?
He cringed his nose mimicking her, and I could not but laugh.
As an official Ex, I endorse my blessing on their friendship.
I hope they both see that they could have a future together.
Throwing a mock salute with a bow, I reiterated my thanks.

We will both get this behind us.
I had been strong all day for Lana since I heard the news.But now that she had someone to help her. My façade of “all is well” faded like smoke and the reality of my loss and the fight for my sanity hugged me breathlessly.

Omowashe Omorishe#21

Bleak

bleakness Bode
I tried Lana’s number again. The phone was off so I decided to drive back to her parent’s house.
She was getting into her car and looking very distraught. I stopped the car with the engine still running and rushed to her before she drove off.
She was crying hysterically.
“Give me the keys,” I commanded her.
She looked at me defiantly. One minute looking like she would drive off and the next switching off the engine and giving the keys to me meekly.
Wiping her eyes and sniffing away, she rested her head on the headrest, with her eyes closed.
“You are not in the best position to drive. You’ll be an accident waiting to happen, except you are contemplating suicide,” I said trying a small smile.

“At least it would put an end to the drama happening around me,” she retorted.
“Yeah,” I answered drily.

“Some drama in the last few hours,”

“Come,” I pulled her out of the car.

“I booked this place tonight for dinner for two to celebrate but who says we can’t still celebrate.”

She was staring at me bewildered.

“Yes crap happens, but we still have each other so who cares,” I said looking on the bright side.
She followed me with a look I was yet to decipher as I got her seated in the passenger’s seat and went around the car to the driver’s seat and drove off to the dinner venue.
Lana was silent all through the trip, but as soon as I parked, she blurted out, “We are first cousins!”

“Your uncle having a child with my aunt does not make us first cousins,” I argued.

“Although, technically we share the same cousin.”

“She is your cousin and my cousin as well, but we are not directly related,” I explained.

“I am that child they had,” whispered Lana afraid that if she said it loud it could mean acknowledging the truth.

I froze in time as my brain tried to analyse the implication of this revelation to her and our relationship. I felt like a huge rock had been thrown at me and pinned me to the ground. Our relationship had finally hit the brick wall. No love so strong could surmount this.

There had to be a way a little voice in me argued, and until we had exhausted all our options, we were not going to give into what society and tradition threw at us. Did not Abraham marry his father’s daughter and Lot’s daughters had children by him? We grew up in different circumstances. That should mean something.

“There must be a way,” I muttered as I revved the car expressing my anger at our helplessness.

“You are not driving away in that rage,” Lana rebuked me for someone who was contemplating near suicide some few minutes ago.

“Wouldn’t it be epic to both commit suicide and end the pain,” she teased as tears started a free falling spree like the Niagara falls which later turned to heart wrecking sobs.

“Sleep with me,” she said eyes wide with a faint burst of excitement at the idea.

“Once I am pregnant, all my family’s hesitancy will disappear, and my parents will jump start the marriage rites.What of it I was already pregnant? Why did we choose to wait till after the wedding?” She asked forlornly.

We had both agreed from the first time we were together to wait till after marriage to be intimate. Our honourable resolution stared us mockingly while taunting us to find a solution.

“ Lana, we can’t have waited this long and decide to make a rubbish of it all.
There must be a way out,” I said with a camouflaged assurance.

“Let me drop you at home,” I offered.

“I am not going back home.I have said that much to my parents oh not my parents,” she snickered.

” I am done with my family. Please do not insist. Family do not destroy your life, and Family do not keep secrets like this, hiding my identity, family do not rub you of knowing who you are. They had a long time to tell me not this way,” Lana said.

“Your Uncle Segun had been telling you in several ways all this while. You kept saying he was your favourite uncle but more of a father to you than your dad. Every milestone he was there,” I said the words mimicking her adoration for her uncle.

“That was before I found out, he was some selfish, conniving man.

“He did the best he could for you. Giving you a stable home with two parents and not taking you off to be cared by some step mother who might have been threatened by your existence, and made life miserable for you. However, family hurt us we still need them and are knitted intricately with them. Walking away does not make you not related to them, walking away won’t make the pain go away or less bearable. Rather, it would live in your head and stare at you every day. Take time if you need to but don’t walk away,” I advised hoping he would see that two wrongs do not make a right.

“Cousin,” I teased lightheartedly. A far cry from the feeling of despair that had engulfed me.

“I need a mind operation to start seeing you in that light,” she managed a small, sad smile that mirrored both our hearts.

And there in the car, I held her like my life depended on it. I held her and sobbed for what we may lose eventually.

“ I am not sleeping at my house tonight, and you can’t make me. I should call Peju,” she said picking her mobile phone.

“Oh God! It’s dead! Lana exclaimed.

” And you were running off in the night to nowhere with a dead phone. A good thing I came around, I said.
“My knight in shining armour,” she teased. It was sweet but heartbreaking to hear us make light our predicament.

“I might have to lose that title, I teased back but winced inwardly with pain as the reality of those words dawned on me.

“Do I take you home? Or Peju’s place?” I asked.

“Oh, not Peju she does not need my excitement right now. I think she is going through a difficult pregnancy. I have to keep this bit away from her. I had almost forgotten. I would never forgive myself if I were the reason she lost her babies after the fiasco I pulled at her wedding.
Maybe Peju’s mother in law today. She’s been scheduling meetings that I have been too busy to attend, and Peju might be there or a hotel for some few days while I get my head cleared, and what to do, Lana said unsure of herself.

“Peju’s mother in law’s place will be better. You need the advice of an older person to prevent you from making a mistake you will regret all your life like my aunt.
She missed the joy of seeing you grow up into the beautiful, intelligent and confident woman you have become.Talking about her, have you thought what you want to do?” I asked.

Lana started blankly at me. I could tell it was not something she had considered.

“That is too much for me right now. I have no clue what I want or should not want. I do not know who I am anymore,” said Lana bowing her head into her hands.

“No matter how bad a situation is there is always a bright side to it.Don’t give in to despair. Keep an open mind,” I advised.

We were back at her house. I waited for her to go out but she just sat there.
“I can’t face them. Not tonight.
When I walked out, I did so with the intention of never coming back.”

“You want to come to my place?”
I asked.

“No, not anywhere near the woman they call my mother. I am still processing the new information.”

“What plans do you have?”

“I will sort myself out,” said Lana. I felt helpless at my loss to assuage her pain and confusion.

“Let me use your car. I will return it tomorrow,” she said.

I argued with her, how it was not safe to be driving around in her state. I offered to drop her at a hotel, but she insisted or either taking a cab or driving.

I had to release the car to her but on one condition. She charged the phone in the car and called me at whatever time of the night, should she need help.

I reluctantly handed her my car keys and prayed she would be safe or somewhere along the road she would change her mind and drive home.