When Love Returns.
Niran Adedokun
The timepiece on the massive TV set hanging opposite the bed read 3.07 am. Although it was the fourth time she would wake up in three hours, Yemisi was unperturbed that this was looking like a fitful night. She had good reason. This was the third night of her marriage to a man who is clearly heaven-sent, and even waiting up all night would be worth the thrill. Her husband now laid by her side, sleeping soundly and oblivious to her contemplations. She smiled. All is well that ends well, she imagined, the Cheshire cat still on her face.
She had every reason to be grateful. Apart from getting married to the man she loved, this was the day five years ago when she would have died! Now, she is not just alive, but in a relationship that would hopefully keep her happy forever. She felt like jumping up on her feet to sing and even dance, but a very sad event, which always diminishes her joy came to her mind.
By now, she was out of bed and sitting on one sofa in the Continental Hotel Cardiff room, where they are spending the first week of their marriage.
Momentarily, her eyes went to the man sleeping on the bed. His cute and peaceful look brought back her smile. If human beings knew that anything that belongs to us would always come our way, we would have very little trouble, she thought.
Her mind travelled back to six months ago when someone tapped her on the shoulder out of nowhere. It was a fortuitous meeting, which reassured her that nothing happens without a reason.
On her way from visiting a former colleague at the Sloane Square Luxury, in the Chelsea Area of West London, she walked into the Waterstone’s bookstore around the corner. Yemisi recalled she didn’t really have plans to buy a book on this day. But bookshops became a place of refuge for her a couple of years back. Even when she is not buying, the sheer atmosphere that the forest of books at places like Waterstone’s created calmed her nerves, and this was all she sought.
After looking at the classic literature and romance sections of the bookshop, she checked out their fiction section. Upon asking, a staff member directed her to take the staircase one flight down and turn to the left. She got there to see that the section was the size of another bookshop and found that impressive.
Her eyes fell on the collection of Margaret Atwood books and she tapped her fingers in excitement. She had meant to buy ‘The handmaid’s tale’ after coming across a review on Instagram the other day. To imagine that I would have left this place without buying the book would have been so unforgivable, she thought, while moving closer to the shelf to scout for the title.
At this time, someone delivered a gentle rap on her right shoulder. Her blood boiled instantly. It is one of those personal frailties that Yemisi cannot explain. She hated it when anyone tapped her. It made her lose her cool. For good measure, she also never did it to anyone. So, by the time she would turn to identify this intruder, fury was written all over her face.
But when their eyes met, her entire system failed her. Her hands went limb and shaky, the 320-page book she held fell helpless from her hands unto her legs. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Then, Nnamdi, who perpetrated the whole event, stepped in. “O-l-u-w-a-y-e-m-i Adekole,” he screamed out her full name. The next event shocked him and if he wasn’t standing solidly on his 6 feet 2” and 75kg frame, he would have landed on the floor as Yemisi threw the whole of her body at him.
Cold tears dropped from her eyes on his shoulders as they embraced for one full minute. After the pleasantries, they walked towards the till where Nnamdi settled their bills. He led his old friend to the car park and drove to The Turtle Bay, where they ordered a meal and spent the next hour catching up about events that had happened in their lives since their last time together.
First, he asked why Yemisi blocked him out of her life. With palpable regret, she explained that when her parents insisted she must break up her relationship with him because he was Igbo;
“I just couldn’t stand talking to you and not being a part of your life. It was too much for me. I thought about it and decided to cut you off.
“When Ify would not let me rest, I had to delete her number and block her on every social media platform where she could reach me. I just wanted to be away from you. That was for my sanity.” Nnamdi nodded.
“I can’t say I don’t understand. For me, the break-up was hard enough, but refusing to speak with me or any member of my family was something else. But, I get it.
Yemisi thereafter told him about her disastrous relationship with Tosin. “It was like they sent this guy to sap life out of me. He was the most inconsiderate, dishonest man I ever met….
“Wow, how did you two meet?”
“At work. He managed one branch of Omega Bank. We met at one of our monthly performance reviews and he took a liking to me. We hit it off and at some point and I fell into the hands of the scammer.
She had quite a story to tell and a good listener in Nnamdi, who listened with rapt attention with no further interruption.
“Over time, I discovered he was a chronic womaniser. His lies when always endless, just as he would borrow money from me and refuse to pay it back. I tried to break up with him twice, but my parents would hear none of it. Mum on her part, just to marry me off. She argued I was getting too old for a woman’s biological clock. In dad’s case, he did not contemplate why I should leave an eligible Yoruba boy. It didn’t matter whether the man was a criminal. My father just wanted me to marry a Yoruba man.
“At some point, Tosin proposed marriage, and we started preparing. One day, just after he had taken another one million Naira from me, I got a phone call that changed everything. The lady claimed to be pregnant and that it belonged to my fiancé! I imagined that she was bluffing, and I told her so. Then she sent me a video on WhatsApp and what did I see? She had just told him about the pregnancy and he started rejoicing. I was beside myself. Confused about what to do, I forwarded the video to him. He called me a few minutes later and made up stories. It remains the most traumatic night of my life. My mind wandered on and off about all the red flags I had seen in the past and blamed myself for allowing this to happen to me. I decided nothing would make me go back to this guy.
She talked about the tragedy that had happened the next day.
“Linda, my friend, wanted me to spend the night with her the evening I got the heartbreaking news, but I refused. Instead, I promised to come over the next day. So, the next morning, I packed my things and called an Uber to go to her house. With my frame of mind, I couldn’t drive. I soon discovered that I took the wrong cab. This guy looked angry from the moment I got in the car. He drove the car like he had an appointment with death, and when I complained, he flared up and asked me to get out!”
“Wow, that’s really something, you…”
“Oh yes. It’s difficult to forget this incident because if it hadn’t happened, I would not have been in the accident which killed the guy who gave me a ride from the point the cab left me.
He saw me on the roadside and offered me a ride. During the trip, he noticed my countenance, engaged me in conversation, and didn’t notice a stationary truck just before the Ikoyi bridge. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive! I probably would have died too, but for providence. A doctor drove to the scene a few minutes after the accident happened, and checked me, despite the insistence of street urchins around the area that I had died. I heard all the stories several hours later when I become conscious. Apparently, the boys frisked me and took everything I had on me, but for Linda’s business card, away. The police reached Linda and my parents hours after they had gone all over town trying to find me. Thankfully, I got out of the hospital five days later, but I haven’t forgiven myself for the guy’s death.
By now, she had become tearful. Nnamdi pulled handed a napkin, but he allowed her.
“You have really been through a lot,” he said, rubbing her hand. “But you are stronger for it,” he further encouraged.
When everything got calm again, Nnamdi started to tell his story.
“Well, from everything you have said, I can decipher that you are still single…”
“Yes, I am,” Yemisi responded, anxiety creeping into her face.
“I am also single”, Nnamdi said, stretching out his hand to rub the back of her hand and a mischievous smile on his face.
You may not have realised it, but your decision to break off our relationship left me distraught. So, I decided I would not date for a while.
I turned my attention to my career and did really well. Three years ago, they posted me to the headquarters of our firm in London and here we are!
Oh! I should add that I have dated only one girl since. Uchenna, nice girl, but things just didn’t work. I met her a few months after I got into the UK and we tried to hold it together until five months ago when we ended it. We are still friends, but there are no strings at all. That is my story,” he concluded.
“Hmmm…, Yemisi started, but he cut in.
“One more thing… I wonder if this is too early, but we are both here now. Who knows… whether things can work for us now?”
Yemisi smiled. They agreed to see how it goes and things turned out well.
Although they lived on opposite sides of the City of London, they saw an average of three times a week. When Yemisi is not taking late train rides on the District line to her Beckton East London residence, Nnamdi is on a dead of the night drive to his Northgate apart in the western part of the City.
By the end of the first three weeks, after they met, excuses about not travelling late at night started coming up, and someone would end up spending the night at the other person’s apartment.
One day, three months later, Nnamdi fell to his knees as he stepped into her apartment, presented a pair of stunning engagement rings and asked for her hands in marriage. And she answered, Yes!
At first, Yemisi insisted she would not tell her parents about the wedding.
“These folks are unrepentant with their bigotry and I don’t even have the time to dignify them, she said when the issue first came up. Nnamdi smiled, assured that he would persuade her to reconsider.
When she remained adamant after a few weeks, he asked her what risk they ran if her parents objected again.
“Will they be able to stop you from going ahead?”
“What? God forbid,” Yemisi responded, springing up from her seat.
“They will only waste their time.”
“Exactly, so why are you afraid to tell them?” Let’s just fulfil all righteousness by telling them. If they agree, good for us and if they don’t, we go ahead with our plans!
That evening, she called her parents and after exchanging pleasantries. She broke the news.
“Dad and Mum, I plan to get married soon and wanted to inform you,” she offered
“Ah! When did you decide that?” Mr Adekole asked
“And who is the person?” her mother added.
Yemisi hesitated, and that sent a signal to her parents.
“Congratulations dear, we will support you whatever you decide,” her father said.
Yemisi smiled. As obedient as she had been to her parents, the experience of the past few years has shown her that there are times she should take her destiny into her own hands. This was one such moment, and she would not let it slip away. She appreciated the fact that her parents were reasonable though. Anything different would have brought her at odds with them once again.
Within the next few weeks, they arranged for the two parents to meet in Lagos. The new couple joined the introduction via zoom. They agreed to do a traditional wedding in absentia while a small wedding would take place in London, with a few of Nnamdi’s elder brothers and a few friends in attendance.
They got married in a small meeting room at the O2 Arena, Greenwich London, on Friday 2 May Friday 2019. Linda, Yemisi’s closest friend, flew into London to be the chief’s bridesmaid. Ifeyinwa, Nnamdi’s cousin to whom they met, proposed the toast at the reception. Family members joined the unelaborate but well-packaged event in zoom. At the end of the short reception, the couple jumped into a limousine, which Ade, Nnamdi’s colleague and best man, had arranged. They headed for Wale for a five-day break, where they would, hopefully, live happily forever.
Yemisi glanced at the timepiece again. It was now 5:30 am. She had been lost to the world for over two hours.
She made to walk to the bed, but that accident flashed back. Yemisi sank back onto the couch and wept. She might never get over the kind soul” that lost his life in the accident from which providence kept her.
She only has a faint recollection of what this man looked like, and that is terrible. She beats herself for paying scant attention to David as he chatted with her spiritedly just to assuage the hurt. This was why he didn’t see the broken-down truck early enough to avoid the accident that killed him and left her for dead that fateful afternoon. She feels responsible for his death and wonders if she would ever arrive at the point of forgiving herself. Her inability to trace David’s family makes the whole thing worse to condole with them and pay her last respect. Her eyes choked with tears and, as usual, she let them flow. She usually felt better after what has become a ritual of tears on the morning of 5th May of every year. By the time she convinced herself that she had shed enough tears, another 30 minutes had clicked by.
She looked at her husband again and smiled. Indeed, all is well that ends well, she contemplated. She walked towards the bed to join Nnamdi. She smiled again and pushed the words out of her mouth, “Love always triumphs.”
