” Fire on the Mountain!” came Hauwau’s voice over my mobile phone.
“Meet me at Gurara Hospital,” she said with an urgency that was uncommon to her.
Hauwau has been my childhood friend, and she was one of the most laid back people I had ever come across. Anything did not move her, and she moved nothing. She had it all together in her life and yes! I confess I was jealous. I was never tired of telling her. It was like she had the universe eating from her hand. Whatever she desired she got it cheaply and without stress.
“Is everything alright?” I asked already panicking.
” I can’t talk over the phone. Please show up quickly and leave all that your made up to perfection face at home too,” she hissed. She knew I would never leave the house without looking my best.
Whatever the problem was, it must be big. I was certain of that.
In addition to her life being on a platter of gold, Hauwau was also the worst of people to get a message across in crisis. She was either giving you her thoughts or the consequences of the issue but never the real problem at hand until you got to her.
So this is how I started my fifteen days vacation. It was not a holiday to go on any trip, but to get my home and heart in order. My life had become a roller coaster on speed off 600km per hour similar to Japan’s Maglev train without applying any break. Turning sharp bends and corners that I felt I had lost control. I did not know what day it was anymore. I was consistently missing out all the children’s school functions. Following up on their work has been so tedious that I am only able to check their home works and leave the rest to the lesson teacher.
I dropped the kids at school this morning while I attacked cleaning the house like it was the battlefield of Normandy.
It was in this state that Hauwau called me. I slipped into a skinny black jeans, sky blue sequined kaftan and a navy blue veil around my shoulders, picked my Ferragamo bag and wore my sequinned slippers that matched the kaftan top.
A quick touch of lip gloss on my mouth, pursing my lips before the mirror as I applied it. Spraying a good deal of my Jimmy Choo illicit flower perfume while using my hands to comb out my human hair. I was contemplating working on my foundation when my phone rang again. It was Hauwau.
I dashed out of the house calling on Hannah, the house help to finish up the cleaning.
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.
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.
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.
I have been invited to a women’s forum program. Not sure if I wanted to go. We, women, are lovely creatures and fun beings but too many of us together can be disastrous. Hence my hesitation. However, when I met the convener of the program at church this morning, I was too ashamed not to give my usual reply, not this Sunday as I had done for a whole year.
I convinced hubby that I had no choice to go than to support my fellow sister. Searched my wardrobe for a dress that will bring Lagos to standstill – remember o! I was going to an all women program, but truthfully I think we women are the ones that look and size each other up.
My headgear rivalled Madam Kofo in Second chance, a sitcom of the 80’s. Make up in place. The scent of J’ardore, evoking a unique and harmonious floral fragrance.
“Babe, are you sure it’s a woman’s program? Because I think this is pure harassment,” teased hubby.
“na you sabi, No one is looking at me. I am looking at myself,” I retorted.
I grabbed my car keys before hubby decides his agenda for me.
On second thought I ask, “Sweetheart can I use your car?”
“Anything you want to the half of my kingdom,” replied my gallant knight in shining armour.
Now his kingdom is our lovely house and kids and some Naira in the bank account that belongs to all who need it.
I take his keys and mine so my car which was behind could be moved which should have been the cue only to go with mine rather than face the hassle of driving cars
I drove out in his Honda Accord 2011. Nothing is wrong with my car. But mine is Honda 2007 a brand new car when I was given still in good condition. But longer throat no gree me.
So I put in the ignition, place the gear in reverse, and drive off till I heard “gboa!”
Ye! All my shakara flew out of the window.
I have entered one chance today.
Shaking all over because half of my kingdom does not entail his car o!
I rush back to the house.
“Sweetheart” all forgotten.
“JK – I am in trouble!”
He is staring at me like I am from another planet.
Of course, he has no idea what has happened to his real babe.
“Your car, your car,” my vocabulary reduce to that of a toddler while my queens English took the backseat.
“What about my car?” he asked too casually. If only he knew.
The guy was not making it easy for me and my women’s weapon for ready tears today had taken a trip to China.
“I bashed it. I am sorry,” all coming out so fast coupled with the speed at which my 5 feet 6 inches frame got to the ground in the traditional way.
Something I have never done since our traditional engagement ceremony over a decade ago.
Unfortunately, hubby remained unperturbed.
He rushed out to see his baby and a torrent flow of the “what, why, where, how, and when questions started.
As hubby was not slowing down and none of my actions was working
I went to our room and changed.
I was upset with myself and hubby for not easily forgiving me.
“What is in a car? Am I not worth more than a car?”
I am puffing and talking using the last weapon I have – my mouth
“Haba car na car o! No be living thing,” I exclaimed.
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.
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.
Patience came into the room and beckoned to Deola. There was hush hushes around me that I became suspicious.
“Are you planning a coup d’etat on me,” I teased.
You’ll have to all try harder I joked further.
Soon the girls were staring at me weirdly.
“Spill it out,” I commanded snapping my fingers like a royal does to her subjects.
“You might want to sit down,” Halima advised soberly. I would give a penny to see her this demure, but they all appeared to have a serious issue on their minds.
“I think you should call Bode,” Patience suggested.
“Why should I? he is out there and any minute from now I would be called”, I answered still wondering what joke the girls had up their sleeve.
“Lana, this is serious. We are not kidding,” said Deola with a strain in her voice as she knelt beside me taking my hands in hers.
“Bode and his family have left,” announced Patience.
“How do you mean? What do you mean left?” I asked perplexed.
I wrung my hands from her as I stood up to find my parents.
The girls blocked the door hindering me from going out.
I fumbled with my phone to call Bode as my hands shook with fear and confusion.
His call came through just before she made the call.
“Are you okay?” was the first thing he asked over the phone.
Hearing his voiced washed away part of the apprehension.
“Yes I am but what happened with my family?”
“I don’t know, but your uncle mentioned my aunt could explain.”
“Your aunt?” I asked more confused as to what she had to do with us.
“My mother’s twin sister arrived from the UK today and got dragged to the event. Your uncle might have known her before or someone related to them but whatever it was, did not sound good.
Your Dad was also disturbed when he whispered something to him.
We have tried to ask my aunt questions, but she says in her opinion, that there is no reason for the disruption of the introduction,” he briefed her.
“Damn!” I heard him swear. It was unlike Bode.
“I am going to see my parents right away.
“Can I pick you in about two hours?” he asked.
I could not but smile, trust Bode to be thinking of me in the worst of situations.
My heart melted. A gesture like this one, and many other were the reasons I loved the guy and death alone could separate us.
There must be some explanation to the fiasco that happened to send Bode and his people without the favourable response they expected.
I marched out like a warrior on a mission to my parents and ran into my mum.
“I was just coming to get you.We need to talk,” my mother said tiredly.
“Yeah, I answered drily. I have no idea what drama happened out there but I want it resolved quickly.
“You know what Bode and I have gone through in the past. We don’t need any family meddling. You said it yourself that he was the best guy for me,” I argued with my mum.
She flinched at my words like I had slapped her in the face. In a way, I was happy because I could tell that come what may she would be by my side.
“My dear, there are some things we never plan for that happens, and we need to be strong when they come. What we see is not always what it seems to be,” advised.
“I patted her arm with the assurance of Queen Amina of Zazzau’s victory at all her battles. There is not “seem to be” with Bode and I. ours is what there is, you get to see, assured her confidently.
“Let’s go and see Dad and sort this my Nollywood scene one out,” I said.
If only I had an inkling of the crack in my perfect life I was to encounter in a few minutes, perhaps I would not have joked so hard or taken it calmly. Bode and I would have gone far away from civilisation to live strengthened by your love for each other.
I arrived the living room with Uncle Segun and My Dad seated. My father had his lips pursed in the usual way when he had something serious he wanted to say.
“I t had better be worth every pinch of salt,” I was furious with him.
“Lana, sit my uncle patted the seat beside him for me to sit which I declined to express how upset I was.
I refused to be patronised by them. How could my family have spoiled such an important day to me without finding an effectively way of resolving the issue amicably? They had to send Bode and his family away disgracefully.
“There is something you need to know. We have kept this truth from you for a long time hoping for the favourable time to tell you,” said my Uncle Segun. What was curious to me was why he was the spokesman in this matter.
“And today is the favourable day?” I asked with disdain.
“Lana, you would not talk to your Uncle that way. We brought you up better than that,”My mother reprimanded me.
I shrugged too upset to care.
How could they sit there so righteous about what they had done?
“I do not know how to start,” said Uncle Segun.
“Start from anywhere but I need a good reason for what happened and a solution too,” I retorted angrily.
I knew my mum was looking at me, rebuking me with her eyes since her words had failed to caution me but I refused to look at her.
I was ready for a fight with my elders. Although, the saying goes that you do not fight with your seniors and win.
My Dad stood up and left us only to come back with a brown envelope that looked old. It was sealed.
“Open it,” he commanded.
I tore to envelope open, and it was a birth certificate from the United Kingdom
“What is this Dad?” I asked looking at him all the while wondering the correlation between the trouble we had and the certificate he gave me.
“Read it,” he instructed.
I read it.
The birth certificate belonged to Olulana Oluwatooni, same name, same birthday as me but with Uncle Segun and another name as parents.
“What happened to her?” I asked referring to the child.
Uncle Segun had a child born the same day as me with another woman and not Auntie Bimba, there was real trouble for him when she found out, but why give me the birth certificate?
Nothing prepared me for the bombshell my Uncle Segun dropped next.
“You are my daughter!”
“Common Uncle Segun, this is not the time or place for your jokes. We have something serious here. My introduction has been stopped by some story you are yet to tell me.I will come to this later but can we talk what happened here today,” I asked.
How was I to believe this cock and bull story of being Uncle Segun’s daughter? Some jokes died even before being shared, and this was one of them.
“What happened Dad?” I asked taking a look at him, my mother and then Uncle Segun.
“The woman that came with Bode’s family, his mum’s twin is the name of the woman on your certificate. She ‘s your mother and then makes you and Bode first cousins,” my Dad answered in that straightforward and short way parents offered an explanation and expected you to understand even an altering life information as this.
I sat stunned, taking in the information.
What was happening was not real. I must be in a bad dream.
I took a look at my parents, or not parents and uncle but not my uncle.
“It’s not true?” I whispered more a question than a statement, yet everything within me told me it was the truth.
I could not believe it, but it was true.
I looked at the paper again as the tears threatening to fall blurred my vision.
Who was I?
I was not who I thought I was.
How do these things happen? I searched my memory if I had encountered such story before in fiction or a movie but none. There was no story to relate with but my imagination.
I felt hot and cold at the same time as the doctor’s orders flashed my mind not to exert myself overly. Damn! I swore. Did I just swear? What does it matter?
You find out in one day. Your fiancé is your first cousin. Your sister all your twenty-six years of life is not your sister, your parents are not your parents and your Uncle is now your father with a mother you never knew.
Your whole life has been a joke, and nothing had been real.
I felt ripples of several emotions; hurt, betrayal, and anger.
“Why? Why now? Why was I never told this? Why was I lied to all my life?” I shouted hysterically.
My supposed parents and uncle looked with discomfort but said nothing.
They were wise not to as it would only have aggravated an already bad situation and I would have said things not worth repeating.
I was close to hating. I hated them for this.
The room became too stuffy for me. I wanted to get out. I wanted to leave the presence of these strangers I had known all my lives.
With the birth certificate in my hand, I took a last look at them and walked out of the room, out of the house and out of their lives forever.
*******
Bode
I was unable to see Lana. We left Lana”s place, not without my uncle promising that we would look into the matter and be back with our proposal.
He was confident that whatever the issue is will be resolved and was not upset about the refusal of our proposal.
No sooner had we entered the house did my uncle rebuke my mum.
“Did I not tell you not to allow her to go with us,” he referred to my aunt like she had no name.
“Egbon, it would have still happened even if Kehinde was not there.” said my mum.
She was right because they were identical, you could hardly tell the difference between them.
“It would not because you did not know that family and had not seen them until today,” he argued.
My aunt stood there the whole time. Then she quietly asked to be excused that she was tired and needed to rest.
Tired I asked in my head. My whole life was crumbling, and you hold the key, and there you are saying you were tired.
“You can go and rest. I am so sorry for troubling you today,” my mum apologised.
“ Kehinde, You can’t go and rest yet. You need to tell us what that man meant. I could see you knew each other. Since you refused to talk there to allay their fears about our family, the little you can do now is tell us.
I punched my uncle in the back in comradeship. Mind you this was all in my head. How dare you do that to an elder in Africa, your mother’s elder brother? It was not only disrespectful. You could incur a curse on your life. The man hit the nail on the head. He was as eager to get over with the situation as I was.
“Egbon, this could wait till later, let her rest. I should not have insisted she came knowing she had just arrived from a long journey,” my mum pleaded with Baba Bisola.
“No, it cannot wait, you do not go to bed when you have an issue to resolve because sleep will be futile. I am also surprised at how calm you are about the issue. You would have told me earlier that you were not keen on your soon getting married,” queried Baba Bisola.
“Oti o! , meaning No in Yoruba. What kind of mother would I be?” I am only practical, night has come, and whatever we find out, we still need to discuss with the family and fix another introduction date. You have no idea how grateful I am not to have made the event an elaborate one. The shame would have killed me,”
“Now you are talking,” he nodded in agreement.
“That is why I want it resolved. Whatever story Kehinde has might give us a clue.” he reasoned.
“Kehinde, you don’t have to provide us with a long story just a summary what we need to know to solve the problem before us,” my mum said.
I sat there and watched as the words flew over my head. I had tried Lana, severally but her phone was switched off.
My ears piqued when I heard my aunt say,” I will tell the story, but it has no link to stop Bode and their daughter.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” said Baba Bisola impatiently.
I met Segun in the United Kingdom while in medical school, he was a law student. We fell in love. He was a perfect gentleman all the way. Pushing me to study hard and maintain my excellent grades. I was the best student in my class. My life could not have been more perfect, great school, wonderful friends, good grades and the perfect boyfriend. Segun back in the day was a good looking guy. So handsome that he had ladies eating out of his hands, but he treated them all with respect.
I was aloof at first where he was concerned. I was not fooled by his charms or so I thought. But love has no design or pattern. It happens beyond our well calculated strong will. The heart will respond and sometimes the battle of our will could be lost before we even realised what hit us.
I was introduced to Segun by a mutual friend at her birthday party. He was funny, witty and humble. He had none of the airs I had perceived from afar. I watched how he related to the others, and you could see he genuinely cared about people. We struck a friendship and became the best of friends. He had many female friends, but that did not bother me until one day, he came excitedly to my room asking for advice, he had found a girl he wanted to date. He wanted my help.
I was stunned, but I could not explain the pain I felt in my heart. For a brief second, I felt that girl should have been me. But I pushed that thought away and asked him about the girl. I would perform my duty as a friend who wanted the best for him.
The mystery girl was one lucky girl, as we planned together. Segun would ask questions, and I would answer him using the thought process of an average girl.
The big day came. He asked if I wanted to go with him. Of course, I shooed him off.
“My work ends here buddy. The rest is yours. Let me know how it goes when you have time off,” I said.
“Is someone jealous here?” he teased.
“Not in your life,” I lied as I pushed him out of the door playfully but quickly, my heart was breaking into pieces.
I fell on my bed and cried my heart out. I had lost my friend forever.
Two hours later, my room bell rang. I was not expecting any one. Segun must be busy executing our plans on his new girlfriend.
I ignored the call. I must be looking a mess, but the persistent ringing got me out of bed, it could be one my girlfriends. I was not ready for company, but it wouldn’t hurt to have someone take my mind off the pain that threatened to consume me. I had heard of heart breaks but now understood the pain. It was worse than a physical wound which could be treated and heal in no time. The ache was intense, and I had no clue how I would survive it.
I opened the door and was aghast so see Segun.
“What are you doing here? Are you not meant to be at her place?” I asked surprised he was at my door.
He ignored my question and asked me what happened that I had been crying.
My red swollen eyes must have given me away.
“Nothing, I can’t handle,” I answered with an excitement that was far from what I was feeling inside my heart.
There was no point lying.
“Enough about me.What happened to your date?” I asked trying to change the subject.
“I want to know why you were crying. I left you two hours ago, and you were perfectly okay,” pestered Segun. He apparently did not believe me.
No way was I going to bear my heart before him.
It was my secret. Time will heal me.
“Come,” he commanded me, and my wayward heart betrayed me as my legs walked towards him.
“Doctor, you can’t diagnose your ailment,” he shook his head with disappointments.
“There is no medicine or antidote for some illness,” I replied.
He was too close for comfort.
Let me try was what I heard as his lips came softly on mine.
The kiss was sweet. I angled myself towards Segun wanting to get more of him as my hungry heart yearned. I would keep this memory tucked away as a souvenir of what we never had and be contented to have shared this moment with him.
Baba Bisola cleared his throat. I am not here to listen to romantic stories. “Tell me what I need to know regarding the situation at hand.”
“I am getting there,” my aunt said unruffled.
And she continued.
I quickly pulled myself away.
What was I doing? I asked myself
“We should not be doing this,” I whispered even when my heart was screaming otherwise.
He used his finger to lift my chin and looked into my eyes. Segun was much taller than my 5 feet 2 inches.
“What do you see?” he asked hoarsely his voice filled with emotions I could not decipher.
“Your eyes,” I replied lamely and looked away.
He looked so disappointed that my heart was beating with hope. Why was he playing tricks on me when he should be doing this to his mystery girlfriend? My head reasoned.
“I love you, Agnes. I loved you the first day I saw you in the school’s cafeteria and our chance meeting at Gigi’s birthday was a dream come true. I always have and will always love you.
I was crying more and harder now. Dreams do come true. Don’t they?
“What happened to your mystery girlfriend?” I asked curious to know.
“It was you all the while,” he replied.
I smiled deliriously with happiness.
Segun was mine, and I was his.
We dated for two years. Segun finished his law course and needed to come to Nigeria for the law school and national youth service and after that, return to the UK. He lived with his elder brother then. The parents of the girl we went to see. I still had three years of med school.
The night before he left, with so many emotions of our impending situation, one thing led to another as we gave into our passion resulting in the birth of a child nine months later.
We exchanged letters all through that period. I never told Segun I was pregnant. I was ashamed, I could not call home, I could not tell you, she said looking at my mother, afraid he might break up with me. I was scared I would be thrown out of med school.
I hid the pregnancy, luckily I succeeded. Two weeks to my expected date of delivery, I went to Segun’s brother and explained that I did not want to ruin his life and snag him into marrying me, but I could not keep the child, and I wanted to put the baby up for adoption. All this while I still did not inform Segun I was pregnant.
His brother was calm when I told him. He asked me to give him a week. He needed to discuss with his wife.
They called me earlier precisely three days later. They will take the child from me. They already had a daughter. They were not adopting but will care for the child till when Segun came back, and we were able to make our decision.
I had the baby and gave her to them immediately. I applied for a transfer to another med school to finish my studies and moved on. I did not keep contacts with my friends and just disappeared. I wrote to Segun that I had found someone else, and we could no longer date.
It was the hardest thing I had to do, but I wanted this part of my life over. I wished I had done things differently, but it was still not a guarantee that Segun and I would have been together.
I never got any letter from him as I left no forwarding address and mentioned I had left. I requested the records department not give my new information to anyone.
Looking back, I made a wrong decision and had my regrets.However,
I am here now to look for my daughter and ask for her forgiveness.
I listened to my aunt’s story with rapt attention. Lana and I almost made that same mistake with Lana feeling she needed to focus on her career, making her decision on our lives without consulting me. But we were past that now.
My mum let out a sigh as she wiped her tears.
“Such a sad story and you went through this alone. Why did you not share this with me?” my mum asked her sister.
“You had your hands full, marriage, a toddler. Your life had no space to accommodate all the drama mine had. I was not proud of myself either. Going to med school and getting pregnant,” replied my aunt.
Baba Bisola to my surprise failed to give his opinion on the matter.
“Mama Bode, let me know when you have sorted it out with the family and when next we have to come.I have had enough happening for a day. A prodigal sister comes back to look for a child she abandoned whose father happens to be the Uncle of Bode’s fiancée. What is this world turning into these days,” he muttered.
“I am sorry, I never tried to communicate in time past. I was ashamed that I had failed the family. Our society frowns at having a child out of wedlock and is very unforgiving. Had I kept the baby and came back my life would be unbearable first from my family and community. I know I have no excuse. Egbon, I am sorry,” pleaded my aunt as she went on her knees in the traditional way joined by my mother.
“ It’s okay, like your sister said, we do not throw the baby and the water away. I wish you the best now that you are back. I hope you get your daughter back although it is almost too late now.
“Welcome our in-laws,” greeted the elaborately dressed woman in Yoruba traditional attire of buba and iro made in white lace fabric and a peach head gear made from the famous aso oke.
She led us into the living room that had been decorated differently from the way I remembered it. The interiors screamed posh with an extensive detail in its design. I could see the principles Feng Chiu used as every accessories and furniture blended harmoniously with a subtle twist of simplicity.
The seats were soft and comfortable as we sank into them taking our seats. We thought we were late but on the contrary. Our in-laws were not ready which was a blessing in disguise. It would not have been a good impression if they had to wait for us.
I sat beside my uncle, Baba Bisola who was beside my mum, and next her twin sister and Risi. The woman was quiet, but it was not out of the ordinary since no one was conversing with her apart from my mum. Baba Bisola had not as much as given her a glance since we came in. She could have well not existed to him.
Lana’s parents came out followed by her Uncle Segun. I noticed he did a double take when he came in and saw us. The man was stunned with a look of shock on his face as he struggled to gather himself together. That could be easily explained seeing the similarities between my mother and her twin.
However, I began to wonder what he saw that brought the look and reaction. He was not himself for the better part of the time we were there. He kept stealing looks at my mum and her twin. At another occasion, I could have sworn the man was sweating which did not look like one from the weather as the air condition in the room was as cold as a refrigerator.
My interest was further piqued when I glanced at my aunt who had a startled look on her face when she saw Lana’s uncle, but if she knew him, she did not at least give a hint. I watched the interplay between them, Uncle Segun desperately trying to pass a message across to her while my aunt stubbornly kept looking away from him.
Uncle Bisola, stood up to give the speech and the reason the family came. I could not have been more proud. He was eloquent and purposeful with very convincing words leaving them no choice than to give their daughter to us willingly.
My Uncle, a Professor of Mathematics and Applied Statistics, insisted on being called Baba Bisola by family members and not the usual Prof, used by his friends and colleagues in the academic community. He argued that Prof was meant for work and would not want to be placed on any pedestal apart from the one that arose from the ties that bound us.
Nonetheless, today, he showed us off in a proper light, and I was none the more so glad he came along.
The speech was well received, and Lana’s father was more than happy to receive us. However, he asked if Uncle Segun had anything to say.
The man cleared his throat and focused his attention on my mum and her twin.
“Our in-laws to be. I did not know Bode’s mother is a twin. So we can expect twins as grandchildren from Bode and Lana,” he joked.
“Your similarity is so striking that I can hardly tell the difference. Which of you of you is Bode’s mother,” asked Uncle Segun
My mum smiled in response that she was, and this was her twin sister who she dragged to the venue having just returned from the UK.
“Her name is Kehinde Agnes Balogun
Uncle Segun cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Mrs Balogun,” he called out to her.
“Do you have anything to say that would help us consider accepting your nephew as our future son-in-law?” he questioned.
I was confused but explained it away in my head. He did not know that Agnes Balogun was not part of my family but someone who dropped from the middle of nowhere and due to my mother’s kind heart and irreversible bond, she was brought here on impulse.
Baba Bisola was fuming under his breath that he had said she was bad news from the beginning.
My aunt replied No.
Uncle Segun now asked my mum, “Are you are Bode’s mum?
It seemed odd for him to be asking the question again but I assumed it was all to make the program livelier. However, unbeknown to me. It was the beginning of an issue that would turn around my life forever and haunt me till my dying day.
“Yes,” she answered.
“And this is your twin?” he asked jutting his chin to my aunt’s direction.
“Yes,” my mum answered again not perturbed.
There was no need to worry. People asked for hands in marriage every day without the the drama mine was about to unfold.
Ewo! He shouted in Yoruba meaning forbidden, shaking his head from side to side despondently.
Lana’s father was staring at him with raised eyebrows.
“Daddy Nekan, there is trouble,” he whispered to his brother but loud enough for all in the room to hear.
“Lana cannot marry into this family. And it is with due respect. We would have to ask you to leave. We cannot accept your proposal.
“Segun, kilonsele, I heard Lana’s father ask amidst the panic that seized my heart.
I glanced at my mother and Baba Bisola. This must be some huge joke. There must be something wrong.
The family had accepted Lana and I. Coming here today was to fulfil the obligation. So what was this madness of a joke played out here?
I ran my hand through my hair, unbuttoning the clip of the neck of my beautifully embroidered white guinea kaftan as I was suddenly feeling hot.
Whatever was playing out here could not be happening. I shook my head like one willing away an evil trance.
“Egbon, I will tell you now but let them leave,” I heard Uncle Segun say.
Why was this man the one in charge while Lana’s parents listened to him?.
I was distraught.
What was happening?
This was not some Nollywood movie.
This was my life! My introduction! I screamed in my head.
My family was being asked to leave that the proposal was not accepted.
I saw the stunned look on Baba Bisola’s face.
“Our in-laws this is not done. If you are rejecting our proposal, could you at least tell us why? And if it is something we need to work on, we will rectify and come back to you at an agreed date,” said my uncle trying to salvage an already bad situation.
“You would have to ask her,” said Uncle Segun pointing to my aunt.
She sat down unflinchingly without uttering a word.
My life was going in shambles, and an aunt I had never seen held the answers.
We were looking at my aunt expectantly hoping it was a misunderstanding to be cleared once she spoke.
But she never did, rather she had tears trickling down her face. In one second she looked tired and defeated.
There was some story to be told and for Lana and my happiness, someone had better start talking.
“There must be some misunderstanding,” said Baba Bisola gallantly, refusing to give up forging ahead with the belief that our mission here today must be achieved.
Lana’s father called Uncle Segun aside.
We could not hear what was he was saying but could read the look of shock on his face at whatever Uncle Segun had told him.
And right before our eyes, Lana’s father aged as his shoulders slumped losing it’s earlier aristocratic posture.
I needed to get out of here and see Lana. These elders should not play with our lives.
A message came on my phone.
Happy introduction. I wish you a life filled with love, laughter and luxury. AA
It was such a sweet line I must have had this goofy grin on my face as the girls demanded I read the text out and I did.
“That is so cute,” Patience said with a dreamy look in her eyes wishing for a romantic guy to cross her path.
Patience and the rest of the girls here were among my closest circle of friends. Work and marriage have hindered the frequency of our hangouts, but family programs were a must, and our chat room was as potent as any physical meeting.
“Who is AA?” queried Deola. Deola has been my friend way back as teenagers. We never had those familiar girl friendship fights. We were comfortable with the times and seasons of our lives and adjusted with a sense of maturity that bonded us.
“AA is not Bode, but I will read his text so you won’t be disappointed,” I answered.
“AA?” Peju questioned.
“I thought I knew the names of most of your friends even if I can’t put faces to their names.”
“Andrew,” our boss I answered without a thought to it.
“Andrew?” Hadiza asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You naughty girl and I thought you were our perfect example. Getting engaged to one and stringing another,” said Hadiza with a triumphant look like one who had caught a thief.
The look on my face must have been tragic. Filled with shock and unbelief, I exclaimed, “My boss and I!
You are crazy Hadiza! I uttered, the whole time thinking how she could interpret a thoughtful text could in such a mean way.
She shrugged and was about to say something but changed her mind.
“If you decide to ditch Bode at the last minute,” Tope from my office chipped in, “I will be willing to take him off you.”
We all busted with laughter as this doused whatever tension was brewing.
Tope is a married woman with two sets of twins and a husband most girls only dreamed off in their fantasy land.
Telepathically, Tunde knocked on our door. He could not have chosen a right time to seek his wife.
“Who is there shouted out the girls? My room had to be sworn a no go area as we waited to be called out to the introduction meeting going on between Bode’s family and mine.
“I need my wife?” Came Tunde’s voice through the closed door.
“You had better take her now because she is queuing for someone else’s husband,” Hadiza shouted which resulted in another round of laughter.
Tunde started singing.
“Olomi, onitemi, oremi, ololufe, oju kan, sha lada ni Lola oluwa ko si oun ti o yawa,” a Yoruba love song by Tosin Martins.
We all clapped when he finished and pushed his wife out to him. His singing could earn him a seat on American Idols season 8.
“Can you read Bode’s text?” Hadiza asked not one to be easily distracted.
I snap open my phone to read the one he sent this morning.
“PJ, you are a fulfilment of my dreams. From the first day, I met you. You carved a special place in my heart without knowing it. Etched in the inside of me, that I saw you awake and in my dreams. I love you then, love you more now and will spend the rest of my life loving you. B.”
“I was there when they first met! Exclaimed Patience, with excitement like that of a little girl. The other girls shouted her down. She shrugged them off and continued. Contrary to her name, she was one of the very impatient people I had met, but I loved her to pieces as there was no pretence with her.
“I meant I was there when it was just about to start. The eyes Bode had then was all on Lana. They were friends with this his three other friends. What are their names again? Ayo, Gbenga and Dotun, but the fireworks between these two were visible to the blind except them,” she continued her story undaunted.
Now she had all the girls eating from her hand as they heard another bit of the Bode and Lana’s story they already knew in part but were still carried away with Patience compelling storytelling skill.
Lana has her walls and how she was out of the league of dating but when Bode asked it was a tough one to say no as she had always done in the past.
So she said the Yes that transformed Bode from an ordinary guy to a knight in shining armour blazing his sword to destroy anyone and anything that threatened Lana. Sadly, when the real threat came, it was from Lana herself, he had to surrender his sword in defeat and hope against all the odds that their love will win.
Their tragedy began when Lana started working and got this crazy idea of becoming a senior manager before thirty. She wanted to move her career faster than anyone she knew. Throwing herself and shelving everything else. Bode was caught in this battle and callously against her heart pleadings she focused on her career without turning back banishing him out of the Lana Kingdom.
Her heart betrayed her time and time again. And she found out that being closer to her goal without love was empty, and here we are today to celebrate the beginning of series of parties and get together in honour of Mr and Mrs Bode Coker.”
The girls were applauding her.
“We are all suckers for romance, sometimes we are lucky and other times maybe not, but love will find us, and that is life. Our romance might not be the storybook kind, but it does have a way of finding us,” I said with a conviction of one who saw the future.
“Why did you first walk away Lana?” Deola asked.
The one million dollar question I have tried to answer. In the beginning, I was sure I was doing the right thing but in the last six months of walking with my head in the clouds and my heart filled with so much love that I am afraid it would burst, I could not have been so wrong as to have thought I could live without Bode. These were my thoughts but to answer Deola, I would say my selfishness.
“Selfishness. I felt I knew what I wanted for my life then, and it did not include relationships even with love. My head spoke for my heart. I try not to live in regrets. I’ m almost where I want to be in my career.
I have seen marriages do work. Thanks to Peju here I throw a smile towards her direction. I have also witnessed a restored marriage, which planted a seed of hope in my heart. I had my fears and still do but I am ready to love without reservation,” I said leaving out the details of the restored marriage being that of my parent.
How many of us develop our perception and expectations of marriage from the marriages we see around, especially from our immediate families. I prayed in my heart that mine would be a good example for our children and not put a clog in the wheels for them or tarnish something meant to be beautiful but spoilt by two imperfect and lost people.
“Your marriage will be heaven on earth,” Deola said with a knowing and my heart leapt in agreement. It was my desire, and I was ready to give it my all to have just that.
Time must have passed. We talk just about just anything under the sun.
“What is taking them so long to call us out?” Peju asked.
“I hope your family is not asking for Airbus 380 as bride price,” joked Patience.
“If they did, Bode should be able to foot the bill with his developing IT solutions business,” replied Peju.
Bode had done well for himself in the years we were apart. He still worked with the bank but on negotiated hours. How Bode was able to secure such a deal was still beyond me. But it gave him time to nurture his business, and he had solutions and software developed for banking operations in and outside Nigeria. He was in money now, but that mattered less to me. It was his heart that I wanted sealed and delivered a hundred percent for the rest of our lives.
His money made no difference to me. I had mine and my career. I was comfortable and contented. Okay, I’ll be honest I could get the trips I wanted now without batting an eyelid or worrying about the immediate cost and long term effect on my bank account. However, one thing I am displeased about is moving to Banana Island where all the big boys live. I see too many people with fake lives on that axis. Living on the mainland is my desire, but hey! A girl has to go where the guy has a house so I get ready to live and adjust with my new neighbours and not have to turn up my nose or roll my eyes when I come across them.
Let me go and see what is happening outside, said Peju as she went out but met her husband, Phil by the door.
“No guys in here,” shouted the girls.
Please, he raised his hands in mock surrender. I could at least talk to my wife.
He took round Peju who was six months pregnant with a warm hug, how his hands were able to go round her still amazed me. Peju had tripled in size. My slim petite friend was as round as a hippo although she claimed she was more on looking like an elephant. If I was still analysing the hug, then he gave her a full kiss on her mouth!
“You guys should please go home,” teased Deola.
“That is my request to you ladies,” he said still holding his wife.
Peju here has been on her feet all day, and on Doctor’s orders has to take plenty of rest in her last trimester. She is not cooperative, but I think she has had enough for today,” said Phil gazing into Peju’s eyes with liquid love.
“I am very okay,” she argued lamely as her body gave her away as she struggled to stifle a yawn that betrayed her.
“Being pregnant does not make you an invalid,” she argued lamely as another yawn escaped from her.
We all laughed.
“Superwoman go home and rest. You have been yawning since Phil came. I wonder how we all missed it here,” I said.
“You have to go. I will give you the rest of the story tomorrow over the phone,” I urged Peju as Phil pleaded with his eyes knowing she will feel less guilty if I insisted she left.
Peju gave in, and I could see the relief on Phil’s face. He looked up to thank me, and I saw a bit of apprehension in his eyes as he smiled not those his confident ones.
I wondered if truly Peju was in danger with this pregnancy and he was trying to hide it from her. I made a mental note to call him tomorrow and discuss strategies to ensure she got the required rest. The baby meant a lot to Peju, I have figured.
Right from the moment, she found out she was pregnant. She had blossomed with an inner joy. The pregnancy was the next best thing in her life after marrying Phil. The scan revealed twins and you could have seen Peju that day. She was over the moon with joy as she called me to give me the Idowu breaking news as she called it.
She and Phil had no record of twins in their immediate families. It was not a dream they nurtured. The scan revealed they were same sexes, but Peju did not want to be disappointed as she pointed out that some scans could be wrong so she was having an open mind till they arrived.
Peju has also been in the best of health except for her cravings for isi- ewu, a goat head meat delicacy from the eastern part of the country that must not be prepared in her house because of the smell when boiling the meat.
“God, please keep Peju and the baby safe,” I whispered a prayer.
**********
Bode
“ Have they taken the gifts to the car?” My mother yelled in Yoruba to Risi one of her younger cousins who lived with us.
“Yes, Auntie,” she replied.
“What about Baba Bisola? Have you called him? Is he on his way?” she asked as she came out of her room tieing her headgear along the way.
The buzz around the house was an eight using a scale of 1- 10.
Baba Bisola is my mother’s only surviving sibling that I knew. He was her immediate elder brother. She had a twin sister I had never seen who lived abroad and had been coming home for as long as I could remember but never did.
Mother mentioned, she probably would be coming back this year. It was for me the usual hope and aspiration the family had a child who went to the white land and never came back. The only proof we had that she was alive were the birthday cards she sent to my mother every year with a gift.
The door bell rang
“Risi, get the door,” my mother yelled as I cringed my ears. She was jittery today checking everything over and over as if something might go wrong.
I went over to hug her.
“Mami,” as I fondly called her.
“You need to calm down. It is just the introduction, and we need you fit for the wedding.”
“Ha oko mi,” her favourite name for me.
It is not every day. I get to go to the introduction of my only son.
The first impression matters. The family we are going to has to know that you came from a well brought up family so everything must be done right.
“Mum,” I reverted to the way I called her in public
You are a judge and a respectable one. We don’t have to worry about the first impression. The perception in the community is one to be desired by many, I said.
My mum is a judge with a good heart, and the community knew if you had a problem, Mama Bode would have a solution. She was a woman filled with kindness that she would go without food to ensure the people under her care had food to eat.
When my father died, it almost killed my mother, but somewhere along the line, she found the strength to pick her life together. Finished law school and started practicing alongside the Ankara business, the sale of local fabrics. The trading paid her bills, but law gave her an outlet to live her life and find fulfilment.
My mother is a strict woman with a heart of gold. The discipline I went through as an only child raised suspicion to me then that I was not her child but adopted. The fear of Mami was the beginning of my wisdom. In my moment of fleeting juvenile delinquency, she was equal to the task.
I recollect a day. She caught me smoking with a group of boys around the corner of our street. She drove past like she did not see me. I rushed home not without putting tom-tom, the minty sweet in my mouth to dispel the smell.
I prostrated to greet her in the usual fashion I had been trained and offered to help with the bags she was carrying which she declined.
Olabode was the name she used when I had done something wrong
I was filled with trepidation almost peeing on myself with fear that she had found me out
“Olabode, you are reeling with the smell of smoke. Where did you go?”
“Nowhere Mami, maybe it is from Iya Kemi’s shop where I went to buy tom – tom,” I opened my mouth to reveal the sweet. The only truth to the story.
“Okay o! if you say so,” she said emphasising the o.
She took some change from her bag and handed it to me. Please buy a packet of that cigarette you and your friends were smoking with just now.
I stood there transfixed. Mami had found me out, and I had no clue why she was asking me to go and buy it. I did what any child would do I started crying how sorry I was and won’t do it again
“Odabe,” she said in Yoruba meaning, Itis all good that way
“But still go and buy the packet for me,” she ordered.
I left to buy it praying that God would send a helper in the person of a visitor or relation who would plead my case.
I came back with the pack of cigarette, and no one had arrived.
There was my mum, seated on a local stool, outside the house with a whip I had never seen in her hand.
“Go and get matches from the kitchen,” she instructed me.
I went in still wondering what she had in store for me. And back with the matchbox,
She handed cigarette box to me.
“Take one, light and start smoking,” she commanded.
My mother must have gone mad but the fear to voice my thoughts in the light of what was happening prevented me from saying a word.
What was so exciting back there with my group of friends held no attraction.
“Ogbeni,” she called out to me, meaning Mr. when she calls me that I knew it was in deeper trouble than Olabode. She walked over to close our gate. My prayer for helper dashed to pieces before my feet.
That gate would remain closed till she was through with me.
I had to clue whether she was going to use the whip on me or not. She had never beaten me before, but I had taken a few slaps and corporal punishment.
My imagination of the effect of the whip on my body left me bowling.
I had seen it used on my peers at school. I had never been a recipient either because getting punished in school was tantamount to getting punished two days in a row at home or I was lucky not to get into any trouble.
I could not put the cigarette to my mouth. I was shaking.
“You will smoke the whole park today,” she threatened.
“You want to smoke? you will smoke today,” she asked and answered the question while I gazed at her hoping I was in a bad dream.
The first cigarette was with fits of coughing, the second I was gasping for breath still, Mami did not stop or bat an eyelid she meant I was to finish the pack.
I did not go beyond the third when I must have slumped or so I thought.
Mami just poured water on me, woke, me up in my state and offered me to continue where we stopped.
I cried and begged and promised never to go near it.
I never touched a cigarette in my life after that incidence, and I could not stand the smell.
Suffice to say I learnt my lesson that day.
That was Mami for you. You can only imagine what she was like in the courtroom. Stories that filtered had it that Mami was a man and not a woman. Her strength, resilience and discipline were worth emulating You could never give her a bribe. Her colleagues would advise you not to try.
Risi got to the door, opened it, but she was standing there with no one coming in although we could hear a voice.
“Risi who is there? Let the person come in. We were still expecting Baba Bisola,” said Mami.
I saw Risi moved to the side of the door to allow the person walk in.
The woman before me was a replica of my mother.! She was a little hesitant at first but continued to where we sat.
Mami was transfixed for a few seconds then what followed next was like something from a movie. They were crying and hugging wiping their tears and crying all over again.
I don t know if we would have ever left the house for my introduction if my Uncle, Baba Bisola had not shown up.
He took a look at my aunt with disgust and spoke to my mum,
“Mama Bode, we have to start going what is before us is bigger than a prodigal daughter coming home,” he hissed the words with disgust.
Right now was not the moment to get all the story out but they had days to catch up, and we all moved out of the house.
My mother asked her sister to come along if she was not tired. She declined that she would rest. It had been a stressful journey.
“ What is she coming to do? To spread her bad luck to others?” asked Baba Bisola visibly annoyed.
“Egbon!” my mother exclaimed
“We do not throw the baby and the water away, At least you will hear her out she must have a story,” she said.
“Don’t we all, 28 long years? How many deaths did she come home? She thinks we need her money. Thank God we have enough of our own,” if you don’t want to go for your son’s introduction but sit here and waste your time with her. I can be going to my house.
“Oti o – meaning no. Egbon, please give us thirty minutes to prepare. We will be out soon,” my mum persuaded him.
He grumbled of how wrong it was for her to go with them. Someone they had not seen in twenty-eight years and she was off to a family function.
My mother and Aunt came out dressed alike. I could not tell the difference until I looked into their eyes. There was a spark in my mothers that wasn’t in that of my Aunts.I was glad to be able to tell the difference.
Mami has been buying two of every wear she had for years. It was her usual fashion that when her twin came back home finally she would need them.
She was often scoffed at by my uncle – Baba Bisola why she even bothered.
Today, her dreams finally came true.
We got into the cars. My mum and her twin sister in one. Baba Bisola, Risi and I in the other while I drove.
I was glad when we got to Lana’s house as Baba Bisola fumed all through the journey as to why they were allowing a total stranger to a family gathering.
I did not know what happened in the past, but whatever it was, it must have been bad to get Baba Bisola riled up that way.
They would sort it out when they talked. They were adults.
My family issues were all forgotten as we got into the house for the introduction. I could not wait to see Lana.
I had booked a restaurant later this evening to celebrate this milestone alone with her.
Having her back in my life was a dream I refused to give up. How I survived the last five years without her is still a mystery to me because now I can’t get enough of just catching a glimpse of her and getting lost in those eyes filled with love and a promise of a thousand better tomorrows.
The next hours of my life were the longest.Lana slumped before me. I was hysterical as I shouted for help. The ambulance came, and the whole wedding party was in disarray as the groom and bride left their reception and followed the ambulance to the hospital.
We sat for hours at the St Nicholas hospital waiting for the Doctors to come out. While we were out, her parents and famous uncle Sege was around. I mustered a smile when I saw him. I was yet to see an uncle who was so fond of his niece like him. His devotion was beyond my imagination leaving me secretly wishing he was mine, considering that I had lost my father at a young age of six, It had been just my mother and me and since then
He seemed more agitated than even her parents. Her father was reassuring him that she would be okay.
“Lana is a fighter, she would pull through,” he said confidently. And I prayed with all my might that he was right.
Another guy rushed in. You could see he was agitated. I found out he was her boss at work.
He walked over to Peju, shook the groom and Peju fell into his embrace. All she had been doing since she came in was cry and how it was her fault. Although, we all failed to see how it could be her fault.
From the conversation he had with them, I deduced he was her boss at work. He spoke some words to her and handed her over to her husband as he took his seat beside them with a grim look on his face.
I watched the whole family and felt like an outcast, although I was the most important person to her, yet no one had this knowledge except the both of us. We were meant to be celebrating, but here I was sitting in the cold hospital with her hanging between death and life.
I walked up to her parents, and her mum and managed a smile as I said my hello.
“I did not know you were back together,” she said with pain that mirrored mine.
“Lana and I met today at Peju’s wedding. I was there when she slumped,” I explained.
“What happened?” she asked looking at me, hoping to get a clue from whatever I had to say
“We were talking, she opted to sit down saying she was tired and before I knew it. She slumped,” I narrated.
I winced, my ring was on her finger, and she was not even able to let me know if we were back together again.
Why did I have to lose, gain and lose her again,
I chided myself, to remain optimistic. She would wake up and get better.
The waiting party grew in number as another lady with her husband and a boy of five years old rushed in. She was a younger version of Lana’s mother, and I presume, it was Nekan, her older sister.
“What happened?” she asked worry etched all over her face as she joined her parents.
Her mother mumbled something I could not hear from where I was, but she nodded towards me.
The lady turned to look at me. Although, we had never met, but she seemed to recognise me. She had a surprised look on her face as she left her parents and came over to me.
I swallowed hard as I prayed the Doctor would appear with good news. The wait was getting rather too long, and heart-wrenching. I gazed over to Peju feeling sorry for how her wedding had turned out.
“Hi, my name is Nekan,” she introduced herself to me stretching her hand for a handshake.
“Hi, I am Bode Coker,” I said with as much smile I could muster.
“My mother told me you were with her when it happened,” she said looking at me with questions in her eyes.
“Yes, we were just talking, and she complained of being tired as took her seat, and the next thing she slumped,” I said. I had lost count of the number of times I had to retell the story.
“Did Lana hit hear head when she slumped, was it a hard surface, did she look pale?” she questioned.
“If you are asking if there was a sign for what was coming? There was none. We were having a regular conversation, and she complained she felt tired, I just thought it was the fatigue of the day, you know the wedding and all the running around. I raked my hands through my almost non-existent hair in frustration.
“Thank you, Bode, she will be okay. I have not spoken to her in a week, just chats over the phone. I had no idea you were back together,” she commented
“We just met today, and she was calm about it,” I offered an explanation. There was no correlation with our meeting and what happened, but it seemed like people were inferring the shock might have caused it. There was no shock, no surprise to cause a heart to fail.
“I will go and see the Medical Director. He is an old friend from medical school. We should hear something soon,” she said as she walked back to where here parents sat not without stopping to have some few words with Peju, her husband and Lana’s boss.
True to her word she came back about twenty minutes later with a Doctor who addressed us that she is calm but need a lot of rest. Her parents alone were allowed to go in while the rest of us could come back when she was sufficiently recovered to see visitors.
We all stood up to leave as her parents thanked us for coming, promising to keep us abreast with any new development and when we could come back for a visit.
Peju’s flight was for the next morning, and although she said she was thinking of cancelling the honeymoon, Lana’s mother convinced her to go ahead that Lana will be up like her usual self in no time and would be furious if she failed to travel on her account.
You could see fatigue around Peju’s eyes as her husband joked how he needed to take her to the hotel or she might be spending a night her in a room next to her friend.
Then the boss greeted us all and left not without a word of encouragement of how we all needed to be strong for her.
I was the last to leave as I stood up dejectedly, not knowing how to keep in touch. Peju who would have been my link would be away on honeymoon, asking for a family’s phone number at this time did not seem appropriate. I thought of coming back every day if I could pass the security but that option was one of uncertainty.
Fortunately, her sister was quick to catch up with me to collect my number and promised to give me an update of which I was grateful.
The coming days, I merely existed living life just going through the motions, praying and hoping for good news. All I wanted was for Lana to get better.
**********
I hear voices in the background. I recognise that of my Dad’s, and could tell he was speaking to me.
“Lana we love you and want you back to us healthy and active like your usual self. I know you can hear me.”
Then my mum’s came so soft and filled with emotion.
“My baby, I love you, please pull through for us for yourself, we cannot afford to lose you,” and she broke down in quiet sobs.
I could sense my Dad holding her, and I wanted to go and give her a hug to reassure her that I would be okay.
I was surprised to hear Nekan’s voice, and I wanted to jump out of where I was to give her a hug, but all I could do was just lie there. How did she get here? I must have missed her mentioning she was coming over. It had been a while we saw. It has been phone calls and chats and lately I had been busy.
At the sound of my Uncle Sege’s raspy voice, my heart broke. I heard my father say in the background
“Segun, you need to pull yourself together .”
I felt his touch and heard his cry as he begged me to come back. He mentioned that we both had unfinished business. He promised not to bother me anymore on marriage and to desist from sending the strings of young men to my office on the excuse of account opening.
I wanted to laugh. My uncle could still crack a joke in his desperation. I wanted to tell him I was right there with him and was not going anywhere, but the words did not come out.
My eyelids were closing, and I wanted to sleep again. I felt this constant tiredness like a dark cloak wrapped around me as I battled with sleep that was stronger than my will to stay awake. The voices faded into the background replaced with muddled, incoherent sounds as it lulled me into a state of rest that had become my new companion.
*******
I had no idea, how long I had been asleep but when I opened my eyes this time around, I could see around me. There was my favourite uncle with his big frame dozing off in the only chair in the room. He must have sensed I was awake because not too long he opened his eyes and was beside himself with joy.
“Oluwalana, he called my full name. I can’t recollect ever hearing him call my name in full. I tried to talk, but it was just a raspy noise with no words forming. I looked at him with fear and alarm in my eyes. I tried to stand up, but my body felt like lead.
“Please stay calm,” he urged as he pressed the bell for the nurse to come.
Taking my hands in his, he kept saying thank you as tears ran down his cheeks. My sleek too handsome uncle with a body built like Richard Mofe Damijo was crying brokenly like a woman who had lost her child.
Something must be terribly wrong with me. I concluded, intense terror engulfing me as I tried to recollect how I got there.
It was in this state of panic, a man, in his late fifties with grey hairs around his temple, clad in a white coat, with an air of authority and confidence strolled in. I presumed he was the doctor and could trust him, and my addled brain knew it was in my best interest to do so.
“We are glad to have you back,” he boomed in a voice that sent me ten years back to my Biology Laboratory in secondary school. Having being suspended from Biology class for refusing to dissect a dried frog with whatever instrument, we had were given. It took the intervention of Mrs Akan, the guidance and counselling teacher to convince my Biology teacher that I was not stubborn or rude, but displaying symptoms of ranidaphobia and should overlook the assignment.
It was that same voice that boomed the day I came back to class “we are glad to have you back” and the only difference was while today was genuine the later was sarcastic.
“We have run all the necessary tests, and they have all come out good. You were acutely fatigued and dehydrated but a few more days of rest and drips should get you out of here in no time. The body has a way of adjusting to itself and yours had to shut down. You were lucky it was not a heart attack or stroke,” he said reviewing the case note.
“In the future, it would be important to take time off activities for scheduled rest, vacation and spend time on things you love to do so this does not happen again,” he said kindly.
I laid down there taking all he had to say in still wondering why I could not just get out of bed and be back at home. Lying here was killing. This mode of inertia was driving me crazy, but all I did was to nod my head as my tired eyes betrayed me giving into sleep again.
I must have been in and out of sleep for days. Moreso, by the time I was able to make small talk, it was shocking to find out that I had been in the hospital for two weeks!
Fast forward to another five more days and the doctor was convinced, I could go back home but not back to work until another two weeks.
What was I supposed to be doing at home? Sitting and staring. I thrived in the fast pace and stress of work where your adrenalin was driven to all-time high so that the slow pace I was forced to embrace was more excruciating than If I was allowed to return to work.
The saying that there is always a silver lining to every cloud could not have been truer. I got time to think of my life and make some adjustments to my values and goals. One good outcome was my second chance at love and unashamedly enjoying the attention I received from Bode.
He was at the hospital every day after work as soon as I was allowed to receive visitors and at my parent’s place upon my discharge.
He had not changed one bit as he was more doting on me, probably because of my health which had made me closer to an invalid. The icing on the cake was it helped to take my mind off my present state.
I must have forgotten what it meant to be bitten by the love bug. This time, around I threw caution to the wind. I did not want to second guess every move or word I just wanted to flow to the rhythm of love being played by Bode and enjoy the second chance being handed over to me.
The clouds were bluer, the rainbow, colourful and the sun brighter than it had ever been and my life could not have been any better. I vowed not to waste any time wallowing in self-pity at the time I had lost but to savour every moment I had.
Bode’s love was one substantial factor that saw to my fast recovery and six weeks after my compulsory leave of work I was fit to return.
**********
My first day at the work was an emotional one as my colleagues had balloons around my table with a “welcome back” banner. There were kind words and hugs. These are people who had taken time out to check on me, send text messages and calls.
Andrew had been understanding. He had a word of encouragement every day as soon as I was able to pick my phone. Although he rarely came by to the hospital, I learnt he was there, the first day I was brought in.
Peju who had been shuttling between office, my house and hers was warned by my mother not to come by anymore and focus her attention on her new home. The morose look on her face the day she received the riot act would have won her an Oscar and put Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, to shame.
However, we made up the time with loads of chats going back and front on our cell phones since my house was a no go area for her.
We were both filled with ecstasy to be back together. I could not wait to be filled up with all the loads of “kongosa” our secret code for first class gossip, I had missed.
My love for juicy titbits in any form; pas,t present and future, was one of my few weaknesses. The moment we were off work we made out time to catch up on each other’s lives that missed the chat room on our cell phones.
Peju kept apologising as to how she was so sorry to have invited Bode over. I had already gotten tired of telling her over and over again that she was not responsible for what happened. I was neither overly excited nor furious at seeing Bode that day, to have caused the fiasco that followed, rather, it was just two friends catching up on what they have lost due to one’s foolishness and a little meddling from some unhelpful quarters. I am glad for where I am right now and if I had the power to recreate the scene I could not have done a better job.
I drew her into a warm hug.
“Thanks for bringing us together and not paying attention to me. It would not have happened without you,” I said.
And there Peju was smiling from ear to ear with so much self-righteousness as she smugly said,“I told you, you would eat humble pie.”
“Your boast almost cost me my life,” I teased her loving the look of remorse stealing over her face.
“I thought you said it had nothing to do with it,” she complained.
“Yes it did not, but I hate the look of triumph on your face and the fact that I have to agree you were right.You have tortured yourself too long, and someone had to deliver you from this guilt. Not to add the miserable honeymoon you had,” I pointed out.
Peju did cut short her honey moon when Phil was tired of her moaning about how she had no clue as to if I was getting better or worse. It must have worked for him too, because as soon as they were back in the country, he was off to Dubai, back to his project.
My house became Peju’s second home until my mum banished her to her matrimonial home with no knowledge that Phil had abandoned his bride for work who had equally abandoned her honeymoon for her near dying friend.
Luckily they had planned another honeymoon in a couple of weeks, and Peju had warned me up front not to pull any stunts as this time around she would feel no guilt if they had to bury me while she was away.
We would have been there in our usual fashion chatting away at everything and nothing if Bode had not come to whisk me away.
He said a friendly hello to Peju, who was smiling rather stupidly like one suffering from dementia as he planted a kiss on my cheek. I rolled my eyes at her.
“I got to go, you both are making me regret cutting my honeymoon short,” she teased winking at me.
“Do you have something in your eyes Peju? I asked her holding back my laughter
” Yeah, must be an insect,” she answered sweetly with her eyes shooting daggers my way.
” Bye, see you tomorrow, I replied as went off with Bode
I could not be more grateful to be still alive. Nonetheless, I still shudder with horror when I remember the catastrophe I caused by disrupting Peju’s wedding reception and honeymoon.
” Fire on the Mountain!” came Hauwau’s voice over my mobile phone.
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.
Lana
21stcenturybelle 