I was helpless

Ami’s pov

What could I possibly say about how the meeting between my family and Efosa’s family ended? Should I call it inconclusive or something else? When Solomon refused to let me take the oath, it almost escalated into a fistfight. If not for the intervention of family members, Solomon and Efosa’s father would have come to blows. Both of them took the matter to an entirely different level. Perhaps rumors had reached Efosa’s father, suggesting that Solomon was the one stirring up trouble, especially since he opposed me taking the oath.

As for me, I was ready to take it, an oath that would give us strong assurance that Efosa and I were meant to be and that we would marry after one year. If I could wait all these years, from puberty until now, what’s one more year? Abstaining from sex for that long wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe they feared I would give myself to someone else, but they clearly didn’t understand the depth of my love for Efosa.

As the gathering grew more chaotic and disorganized, Amos told my mother and me to go inside. There was a lot of shouting outside, and one thing I kept hearing was that we would have to repay all the money Efosa’s family had spent on the marriage preparations.

My mother held my hand and led me to her room, closing the door behind us. It was time for her advice and persuasion. At that point, no one cared to ask me if I agreed with their plans. They weren’t concerned, but my mother was.

“I know this isn’t what you expected,” she began, her voice calm but heavy with emotion. “It’s not what I expected either. Tomorrow was supposed to be the day we’ve all been preparing for. Your uncle Solomon may have done some questionable things in the past, but the opportunity he’s offering will change your life and the life of your future husband when the two of you finally get married. You’re no stranger to the struggles in this house. If we don’t sell the edible leaves we collect from the bush, we’ll never have enough money to survive. If we don’t fetch firewood for others, not a penny will come into this home. If you and your siblings don’t clear other people’s farms before harvest time, we won’t have food to eat. If I don’t wake up early to fry akara at the junction, there will be no breakfast. Aren’t you tired of this life? I’m tired of the heat from the fire every morning. Hard labor has aged me beyond my years. This is the reality we live in, and you are a part of it. Accepting Solomon’s connection to travel abroad is the only way to break free from this poverty. If your father were alive, he would support this decision for you to go. What will happen if I fall sick like your father did? How will I take care of myself?”

She paused and stretched out her hands. “Look at my palms,” she said, showing me both hands. “They’re rough…rougher than the soles of my feet. Please, be patient for just one year. After that, you and Efosa will marry. Imagine the kind of wedding we could have when you’re able to contribute to it. Before the day ends, gather your clothes. Your uncle is leaving tomorrow morning.”

She stopped talking and waited for my response. I kept staring at her feet in silence until something made me look up at her face. What I saw broke my heart. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, though she had tried to keep her voice steady.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried my face in her lap and sobbed uncontrollably, my whole body shaking. She couldn’t console me at first, she was crying too.

After a few minutes, I lifted my head. My mother wiped my tears with the edge of her faded blue wrapper. I took a deep breath and said, “But before I leave with Solomon for the city, can I see Efosa? I can’t leave without seeing him.”

“Where are you meeting him? You can’t go alone,” she said firmly. Her words immediately reminded me of a story I once heard about a young lady who rejected a marriage proposal from a man who had helped her parents. Despite her refusal, the man eventually let go of the idea of marrying her. Out of relief, the girl went to his house to thank him, believing he had forgotten everything he had done for her family. But when she got there, he forced her into his bedroom, and they ended up being intimate. That single act sealed their fate as husband and wife because the man had already performed the introduction ceremony months earlier.

“You can’t go alone,” my mum said again, standing up with a serious expression.

“Nothing will happen, Mama. I promise,” I replied, trying to ease her worry.

She looked at me, her concern evident. I could tell she didn’t want my situation to go out of control. But stopping me from seeing Efosa would only deepen my pain.

“I’ll go with my friend, Isoken,” I suggested, waiting anxiously for her approval. There was no way I could leave for Lagos without seeing Efosa, the man I had, in my heart, already given my entire self to.

After a long silence, she finally spoke. “I’ll only allow you to see him if Nosa, your younger brother, accompanies you. And it must not be at his house.”

*******************

The time was 5 PM, the hour Efosa and I had agreed to meet. We couldn’t meet at his house, so we chose a neutral place, my best friend Isoken’s house. As per my mum’s instructions, I didn’t leave the house alone; my brother Nosa came with me. Like a bodyguard, I thought, but I only understood my mum’s reasoning when I finally saw Efosa.

Efosa was tall and handsome, and whether intentional or not, he hadn’t fully buttoned his shirt as he walked into Isoken’s compound. It felt almost planned that when we arrived, Isoken’s parents were not at home, only her youngest sister was around. I had assumed we would stay outside, under the orange tree by the side of the house, but that didn’t happen.

The moment I caught sight of Efosa’s abs, his well-built frame, smooth ebony skin, and captivating deep brown eyes, I felt my resolve weaken. His neatly groomed hair and the way he smiled when our eyes met, only for the smile to fade again, stirred something in me. He looked just as he had prepared himself for the wedding that should have taken place tomorrow.

When he held my hand, I was lost for a few seconds. The thoughts I had shared with Monica only yesterday while she was plaiting my hair resurrected in my heart. Without hesitation, he placed his right hand on my waist, igniting a fire within me. As we walked inside, Isoken stayed back, but Nosa followed us in.

Efosa hadn’t noticed Nosa at first when he entered the compound. But when he turned, perhaps to close the door or because he heard footsteps, he froze in surprise. Efosa looked at him, startled, but being my younger brother, there wasn’t much he could do. Nosa stood by the entrance, his watchful eyes fixed on us and I guess my mother must have told him something behind my back.

For the first time, I truly wished I could be alone with the man I loved. How would I survive an entire year without him? Phone calls couldn’t replace his touch or the laughter we shared by the stream. I was ready to let my guard down, to set aside the part of me that had kept me chaste. Efosa was my man, and only 365 days would separate us. I wanted to take a piece of him with me when I left tomorrow, something I had never done before, a memory to keep me going until we reunited.

But Nosa’s piercing gaze brought me back to reality. Breaking the silence, I said, “It’s just for a year. I promise to remain chaste…” Maybe that was what he needed to hear.

*****************

Mrs. Imose’s POV

Every time I dip a test strip into my early morning urine, I silently hope for the second line to appear. But why is it taking so long? It’s been years since my husband and I got married, and despite visiting the best hospitals, we still haven’t had any results. Whenever my husband catches me in one of my low moments, pausing mid-meal with tears silently rolling down my cheeks, he always says to me:

“Honey, why do you weep for something that will happen at the right time? Why don’t you eat? Why are you so sad? Aren’t I better to you than five sons and daughters?”

His words always reassure me of his love, but they don’t stop the tears when I’m alone in the bathroom, staring at the single line on the strip. No pregnancy. The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that I still get my period. It gives me a glimmer of hope.

As I lingered in the bathroom, lost in thought, my phone alarm went off, jolting me back to reality. The sound reminded me of something important, it was Saturday, and I needed to convince my husband to join me. I had secretly checked his schedule, and he didn’t have any meetings today.

Quickly, I took my bath, knowing my husband had likely already bathed. He’s always been an early riser, brushing his teeth and bathing before I wake up. I knew his habits well; after all, we’ve been married for fifteen years. I still remember the night after our wedding, young and full of dreams. Back then, we had agreed on having three children: I wanted two boys and a girl, while he preferred two girls and a boy. But that night, he persuaded me to consider having four kids instead, sweetening his plea with a diamond necklace.

For years, that necklace brought me joy. But as time passed and the dream of children seemed further out of reach, it became a painful reminder of what we didn’t have.

“Honey…” My husband’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Are you still bleeding?”

“I… um…” I stammered, quickly remembering the excuse I’d been using.

“I’m fine now. I’ll be out soon; I just want to finish bathing.”

How much longer would I keep lying to my husband about having miscarriages? It had been so long since the last one. Yet, somehow, the lie seemed to bring him closer to me, buying more time for the miracle we both hoped for.

After finishing my bath, I found that my husband had left the bedroom. I checked my phone, saw the reminder, and nodded to myself. I slipped on a loose pink gown that hid my figure, tied my hair with a scarf, and picked up my black-covered Bible. After applying a little perfume, I headed to the sitting room.

There he was, still lounging in casual homewear, shirtless, watching TV.

“Darling, I thought you were ready. Isn’t that why you came to my room earlier?” I asked.

“Ready for what?” he replied, looking at me with friendly curiosity.

“Today is Saturday, our prayer meeting with the pastor. Darling, how could you forget something so important?”

He sighed and turned to me, his face showing lack of interest.

“Honey, aren’t you tired of meeting all these so-called men of God, one after the other? I am getting tired of seeing them.

“Darling,” I began softly, “have you forgotten? This is a new man of God, and he specifically said this year is our year. You know what we’ve been praying for.”

When I saw that he wasn’t preparing to go, I felt disappointed and my voice lowered as I asked, “Darling, when did you start losing faith?”

He stood up, walked over to me, and pulled me into an embrace.

“I haven’t lost faith,” he said gently. “I believe our expectations will come to pass. But my funny friend, Mr. Solomon, says he has a surprise for both of us.”

“Surprise? What kind of surprise?” I asked, pulling back to look at his face.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “That is why I always call him a funny friend.”