"What's wrong with you?" I screamed over the phone, it took a second for her to assimilate what she just heard. To her, it was very strange and unbelievable. She had never heard me ever raise my voice beyond its natural pitch, not to talk of shouting. She sensed that she must have pissed me off real much for me to respond in such an unusual manner, so in response, she began to sob over the phone. God! how i hate to hear women cry!
I had been in the process of ironing some clothes that fateful Wednesday evening, when she called me over the Phone. We had started off on the usual light note, exchanging pleasantries and enquiring about each other's welfare. Then i proceeded to ask about her Parents and siblings, she returned the favour immediately after responding curtly with the word 'fine'.
Neither of us knew the direction the discussion was going to take, but usually we would let it run its course and at the end of the conversation, we would both be feeling a lot more happy and in love. This particular evening, i was more interested in completing my ironing, especially since electricity supply was very unpredictable. Therefore i was in no mood for a long discourse, instead, i was trying all i could to truncate the conversation as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it seemed she on the other hand was less preoccupied and maybe even bored. She kept pushing the conversation, trying her possible best to prolong it beyond the basic complements and confessions of Love we usually exchanged.
With every passing minute, i became increasingly restless and my patience began to grow thin, little wonder when she brought up the issue of marriage again, i immediately went haywire.
Amaka and i had been dating for over eight years now. We first met during my Jambite years. I was unfortunate to have written the University entrance examination for four consecutive years before being granted provisional admission into the University of Ibadan to study Education and Chemistry.
I had met at the special centre were i wrote my first JAMB.
With time, our friendship transcended the platonic stage, as our emotions blossomed, our relationship graduated into a full blown intimate affair. We had clearly fallen head over heels for each other and in less than two years, our relationship had become a popular example of what a romance should be, both among married couples and dating singles throughout the neighbourhood.
By the fourth year of our relationship, i was opportune to gain provisional admission into the University of Ibadan (U.I). By third year in the University, i was already twenty-seven years old, it also signified my seventh year of dating Amaka.
For the past year, She had been very persistent about the solemnisation of our love through a proper wedding ritual. As the months went by, she began to sound desperate about Marriage, her haste seemed unnecessary to me, since she was barely twenty four years old and yet to gain admission into the University. Countless times, i had explained to her that i had to at the least conclude my University education and become gainfully employed before we could get married.
This evening, She had brought up the issue of marriage again. This time around, sounding even more offensive and even threatening to quit the relationship if i did not marry her soon. Her curt remarks were very shocking and irrational at the same time. To worsen the whole matter, She had no single logical reason for her haste towards matrimony. For her, marriage was a competition among friends, a contest which she may emerge as the loser, since most of her friends had already gotten married. Although many of then were not fully married, but then, they no longer lived in their parent's houses and at least part of their dowry had been paid for by a roadside mechanic here or a Bricklayer there.
After all attempts to placate her and try to explain everything to her all over again for the umpteenth time failed, i decided to give up on the whole exercise. Gradually, my anger built up, until I decided that she could quit the relationship if she wanted, in fact, she could go jump into a Lagoon if she so desired. For the moment being, i was tired and feed up and infarct could use a little peace of mind.
That night, i hung up on her after a lengthy exchange of words. I considered her threats to be empty and baseless, without ever suspecting that She could ever see it through.
"Hello, who is this?" I enquired, this is Amaka, she replied "sorry, which Amaka is this" i asked again, then she went into a short narrative, after which i clearly knew who it was. I was very excited to hear her voice once more after seven months. Since our last argument seven months ago, we had not as much as called or even sent each other a text message.
For a fleeting second, i was happy that my prodigal heartthrob had returned, this time, i hoped she was a better, patient and repentant person. I was about rendering a small prayer of appreciation to God for bringing her back to me, when her next words stopped me in my tracks ....." I was just delivered of a bouncing baby boy four days ago " She said, her voice laced with a weighty amount of joy.
I pretended to be deaf, then requested for her to repeat herself, this time, i heard her very clearly and she sounded every bit convincing.
where are you? Who is the father of the Child? Are you married? When did you get married? Are you pulling my legs? What happened between us? I wanted to ask her all these questions and a million more, but all i could do was to stare at the opposite wall, mouth agape, ears mute, phone clutched feebly to my ears. I stood there, beside the hot Iron, among my roommates, mortified. I stood there erect like the biblical Lot's wife, who was turned into a pillar of salt, for merely turning to stare at a bright future she had left behind at the mercy of a fiery conflagration.
A short story Written by Onyeoziri Favour
No comments:
Post a Comment