It’s the 12th of July today, chilly and lonely like everyone of its kind. I’ll be different today, It’s a special day, I tell myself as I walk into my room in measured steps. Unsure of myself, I hold on tight to my body to keep from throwing things apart and turning the room upside down as I am so used to.

‘You’re beautiful today. I love you’. The words re- echo in my head.

If I had heard those words seven years ago, maybe things would have been very different today, I thought scornfully.. No, I can’t stop this one.. I yank my wig off my head, rush to the bathroom to wash off my brown powder and mascara. I grab a towel and mop my lips thoroughly too. Then I march to the mirror in one quick stride.. Seeing the ghost I have become over the years, I throw the mirror to the ground. The sound of it shattering reminds me of my own crumbling soul.

‘NO!!!‘ I scream. This isn’t how I thought it would be. It’s raining now.. I smile for a minute as I listen to the heavens paying tribute to something beautiful that once was- us. The thunder a roaring murmur seething through the skies. The sound. That sound of the thunder reminds me of the voice of my own raging heart screaming why?! Not from hate or disappointment, but from fury, about how I never got to understand the stranger you became overnight. Maybe if I had understood you.. Maybe..

You see, you wudda been the perfect guy, The one to whom I wouldn’t mind giving all I have. I shudda loved you all the way, and forgiven you quickly each time your words hurt me. Truth be told, I wanted to; until you said those words that made me look back no more. They were your last. Not to the world, but to me. And not because you died, but because I let you be. You said I was mad, yes mad for you. You said I was a fool, but that’s what your love made me. Each time they asked me what it was about you, I couldn’t tell; because I didn’t know too.. It could never be your hair, a brown mass of thickery. Not your face either, lined with daunting scars, dealt to you by life as a growing child. No, it was nothing physical, You were tall and black, But handsome? Far from that. Maybe it was your eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets; like how much you loved me, but your ego never let you see..  I was a waitress at Bucks and Bar when I met you.

 

‘You are new here, aren’t you?’ I am Adams and you’re welcome to my home.’ You had said. Home? Weird, I thought. Somehow, from the ‘very good customer’, you became the chronic debtor whose bills became mine to pay after you lost your job. You see, none of these mattered. Even when you kissed me for the first time, on your first or maybe second sober night and I knew I had fallen in love with a man who only said ‘I love you’ when drunk, and who had nothing to offer but a warm big smile and a graceful belch, an appreciation for letting him have thousands of beer to consume, I didn’t care.

My love was big enough for us, I was sure; and so I moved in with you even before you asked because I needed to take care of you. Even when the smiles reduced before eventually seizing, and when you started to hit me night after night, and your big hands graced my cheeks with many beautiful scars, I promised myself you’ll come back around.. I promised myself I’ll be patient till that night,. That night on the 12th of July. Oh that night I hate to remember. It was your birthday, and I awaited you in smiles even when the sheer effort caused my head to throb in pain.

 

You reeked as usual, of regret washed down with cheap wine.. But I fixed your meal still and watched you eat. Then the next thing was me. Yes, my body was your dessert for many months. I wudda let you like I used to, but I was heavy with your child, which could anytime be due. So I begged you, but you wouldn’t listen. One scar, a price for each plea. When it was over, I was wretched in pain but I picked myself up to nurse my wounds with some hot water.. That was when you blurted the words, ‘Damn you and that bastard child!’

Bastard child? And all came pouring forth like rainfall in hell! My time, my money; my sacrifice, my body. Every freaking hour I spent tending to the misery you had become over the years.. No. I could take all things, but not you doubting my faithfulness! Did you know there was Ifeanyi when we were dating? That rich accountant who used to come to our bar every other day, just to see me. He would buy fruits, and wines and he’ll pay double his bill just to impress me. He promised to take me to America to complete my studies.. But I turned him down every one time; and Chucks who was ready to put a ring through my finger the instant I said yes to his propositions,and although he seemed to have more to offer than Tobe or Michael or Eedris and the lot of the others, I turned them all down … Not because you were rich or smart or handsome or ambitious.. No, you were nothing close! It was all because I loved you and I believed in you and for the life of me, I don’t know what you did to deserve my loving!

All those years amidst the daunting temptations, through thick and thin, and for better and even worse, I stayed chaste for you, prayed for you, fought with you and fought for you. I washed your smelly clothes and did the chores like a wife that I never was. I didn’t mind that you had no money to buy me a ring, how much more the beautiful things I craved for in life.. I stayed the nights murdering mosquitoes just so I could be sure you got in safe.. Yet, you called the child your endless nights of sex escapades caused to be, a bastard?? Forgetting my wounds, I emptied the bowl of hot water on you. Yes, you yelled but I didn’t care. I stooped to the floor and cried.. With you and for you. I loved you. I hated seeing you in pain.. But I needed you to feel the hurt your words and actions inflicted on me day by day. Couldn’t you see? That I wasn’t the woman you fell in love with? My hair, withered; my face, sunken, my nails had grown too short from years of serving you non- stop..

Somehow we lost ourselves and the youthful love we shared.. Amidst your pain, I could hear you say ‘I’m sorry’. You know on any other day, it would have meant so much. I would have run to you, hugged you and told you you’ve been forgiven.. But not that day, it even infuriated me more. The one phrase that would have pulled me into your arms, pushed me out of your life. So I walked out forever.. Without looking back. You could have died, but it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t have changed the way I feel about you. Though my sense of reason was obscured by hurt, so that I wasn’t thinking right when I did it, I am glad I did. Because I know somehow now, wherever you are, each time the burns sting, you’ll remember a woman who loved you like no one else ever would.

I don’t know where you are now but I hope you are happy. I miss you, and I keep thinking to myself, maybe if you hadn’t been foolish enough to blurt out those words that night, we’ll still be together, deeply in love.. A kind of love that noone understands but us. The rain has seized now.. I think heavens must have been thinking with me. The door to the house opens and I rush to pick my wig so I can meet him outside. He mustn’t see me like this. He mustn’t see my room like this.

On opening the door, he falls into my arms wet all over. ‘I missed you’ he says. Tears well up in my eyes again. Tears of joy. I pat his head tenderly as I whisper back ‘I missed you too honey. Happy Birthday’. He looks up at my face and sees the streaks of red in my eye. Ignoring the scars he must have seen vividly for the very first time, he says ‘mum you’ve been crying. Why?’. I smile at him as I shake my head ‘no son, I haven’t. My eyes have only been raining’. He smiles and hugs me tighter. I am happy whenever I’m with him. I hug him back, even tighter.

Just about then, we hear a knock. ‘Mum who’s that?’ Chizoba asks, surprised. We hardly have visitors in our house. But like I said, today is a special day.

‘Shhh! Close your eyes, It’s a surprise’ I respond with my biggest smile yet as I walk to the door. It has to be Aunty Sandra and the other kids from Chizoba’s school whom I invited for his first birthday party ever. On opening the door, the sight that meets mine throws me aback.

It’s You, after all these years. I don’t know how and when a smile forms on my lips.

‘Good afternoon’, you say..

I can’t say nothing. I can only just stare at you.

‘Mum, ‘m waiting?‘ I hear Chizoba call in from the sitting room. Quickly, I awaken from my reverie.

‘Wh– ho–‘

‘Mum? Who’s that?’ You ask, trying hard to peer in through the cotton at the doorway. I take in your sight afresh as your words filter through my ears. You look different. Fine kind of different. Your once brown haggard hair, levelled and black. You look princely in your fine brown coat, white t- shirt and jeans too. When did you get these clothes? Oh yes, it’s been seven years since we last saw each other. A lot must have happened. And maybe that change I so craved for those days has finally come.

‘It’s no one.‘ I respond with a slight frown. ‘What do you want?’

You smile. That heavenly smile you somehow lost along the line back in those days. Damn, where have you been all this time! I feel like running into your arms. Yes, I’ve missed you so badly.

‘I’ve been looking for you Amaka.’ What for? What the hell for? ‘Is that our son?’

‘Our son? Oh the bastard child, you mean.’ I snort!

 

Your eyes are misty. Those eyes won’t pull me into your arms this time.

 

‘I’m sorry Amaka’ I hear you say. Sorry? Would that heal me? Would that make up for Chizoba’s 7 years without a father? Would that rid my face of it’s scars? Would it really make things right?

You fall to your knees now and bring out a ring. ‘Please marry me.’

 

‘Mu..’ Chizoba is about to call out before he sees you, the kneeling stranger with a ring. I pull my son back as you stretch your arms to pull him close to you.

 

‘No, he is not your son..‘ I was saying before Chizoba’s voice calling ‘Daddy? Rings out loud ‘Mum, is this my surprise?‘ He finishes off excitedly. I don’t need to ask how he knew. The semblance is almost unmistakable. Plus there’s just something about the blood.. It draws people to their own. Having no choice left, I introduce you both. ‘Happy birthday Adams, this is your son’.

 

The immediacy with which you take him into your arms makes me laugh till my ribs hurt. And then, like on cue, Aunt Sandra and the other kids walk into the compound chattering away. I watch Chizoba’s eyes light up like it has never before as he rushes to welcome them. I call after him ‘now son, though this was the surprise I actually planned for you, take it that you have yourself a double surprise and maybe even more, who knows?’ I tease; knowing full well that I had ordered for some soft drinks, sweets and cake from the Aboki in the next compound which should be delivered anytime soon. Watching father and son get to know each other gives me the greatest joy of my life. Just as I usher the visitors in and make to enter the sitting room after Chizoba, you stop me and offer the ring again.

 

‘Will you marry me?’ You say.

”No. I’m sorry’ I respond. Yes, try that for effect. Now you know what it felt like those days when you’ll beat me to a pulp and then tell me you’re sorry the next day. It doesn’t heal. It never will. It’s like breaking a wall and rubbing it’s surface hoping it’ll come back into a whole. I watch light leave your eyes. I see the shadow that was once there coming back. Yes, that’s just how I used to feel back then.

 

And though, I still love you; yes, I still care and I’d love to hold you in my arms and have you make love to me every night no, you can’t lose a good woman twice.

‘Errm.. You can join the party if you want. There’s enough food for august visitors.’ I say before letting myself inside. If you made it without me for 7 years, you’ll do just fine even now. And me? Don’t worry, I’ll catch up now that I know you’re happy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Damore Ali is a poet, short story writer and blogger. She has been published on several online forums including Naija Stories. She is an accountant by training and a lover of good music. Damore also goes by the name Dr. 2103. She blogs at http://dr2103.wordpress.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Email: ololade.olatunji@yahoo/gmail.com