Twins – 21stcenturybelle

omowashe omorishe#20

Secrets

secrets

Lana

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.

Omowashe omorishe#19

When you hit a brick wall….

brick-wall

Bode

“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.

Omowashe omorishe #18

The story begins…….

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.