Femi hated driving in the rainy season. The roads were crazy most of the time so this just made it even more intolerable. He looked out of the window and heard a driver swear at him, pointing at his head and making circular movements with his fingers. “Your head is not correct o. Foolish man. Una wan die!” he shouted.
Focus. You have lost your focus because of a woman. That’s why you are speeding like this. Why did you almost clip that guy’s car back then?
He began to slow down, the events of the past few days still replaying through his mind.
His mother had rung him up and summoned him to come to see her. Folake Da Silva was a very self-sufficient woman who, though retired from being a head teacher, was very active in her church, was on the Board of Trustees of several companies and volunteered for two charities. She was not the kind of woman who wanted her child at her beck and call and neither was she the type to complain about aches and pains. She just got on with it – just as she had when his father had died. So when he got the call he was worried because she never did that unless she had something really serious to tell him.
He met her sitting in the shade in her garden, sipping fruit juice and looking through some magazines.
“Good afternoon, mum.” He prostrated and she got up to hug him.
“Welcome, Femi. How are you?”
“Fine, mum. What’s up?”
“Morenike came to see me yesterday.”
“She comes to see you several times a week, doesn’t she?”
“She brought someone with her. A young gentleman.”
Femi’s face fell. “That stupid musician? I have sworn if I can get my hands on him … ”
“Sit down, Femi.”
Femi sat down slowly. His face was hard and his lips tight. “I had to hear about it from a business acquaintance.”
“This Amber Gogo woman … For someone of her stature, I wonder how she finds the time to research the background of the woman you are dating?”
Femi shrugged. “I don’t know. It might have been when Deola was working on a project for her. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Hmm. Anyway, I spoke to Soji. He seems to have his head well screwed on. He is from a good family. His parents are both teachers like me. I have heard his music. He does possess some talent. You can’t blame him from wanting to capitalise on that?”
“I don’t want him filling my daughter’s head with nonsense about all the glitter and razzmatazz. It’s the world of show business. It’s all fake. I know the way these musicians treat their wives. Why would I want that for my daughter? She is going to be a lawyer. That’s what I promised her mother!”
“Femi, there is no need to get hot under the collar about this. It is time to face reality. Nike is now 18. She will soon be going away to university and we won’t be able to tell her whom to date. Isn’t it better we get to know this young man now and provide gentle advice when we need to? They are clearly ‘in love’, as young people of that age like to believe themselves to be. All we can do is pray for her and trust that she will be sensible, and one thing you have done is to raise an intelligent and sensible young lady. She is not stupid. Neither is he. He is encouraging her to pursue her dream to be a lawyer just as she supports his music. I think it’s rather sweet. That song I No Dey Take Your Love Play was written for her.”
“Mum, you have let yourself get carried away by all that nonsense. I deal with the facts.”
“Facts. Really? So why didn’t you get the facts straight before you accused Deola of double standards when it came to Soji? That’s what you told me when you called me last week. You were undermining her integrity, and as a woman in business I take that personally.”
“Whoa. Mum.” Femi held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m beginning to feel under siege here. It was never my intention to undermine Deola. I hold her in the highest esteem. I probably always will. It’s a source of great pain to me that things didn’t work out between us, but that wasn’t just down to me.”
“She had a good job offer. She is ambitious. She went for the role that paid more. I thought you said you liked her for being determined and professional?”
“OK, but that doesn’t explain why she was pushing me away by coming up with excuses as to why we couldn’t be together.”
“She was scared. Scared of disappointing you.”
“I love her, mum. I wasn’t seeing her as a potential baby-making machine or cook. I was seeing her as a life partner, my friend, and confidante – the woman I couldn’t wait to be with. I’m just as scared as she is about starting something new after my grief over Sola. I just thought she would trust me on this. I thought we had a connection. I thought she knew me well enough to know that for me, children would just be the icing on the cake. She would be the cake.”
His mother laughed. “Cake. I see you have your priorities in order. You know my story, son. Society had written me off as well. I swore that I would never treat another woman the way your grandmother treated me. Which is why I am looking at the girl as a person and not a womb carrier. Your father was resigned to us growing old together by ourselves and you came along as a lovely gift on top of the biggest gift of all, which was our love for each other.”
“Mum, everyone knows you guys were the love affair of the century. I’m just an ordinary guy with ordinary needs. I can’t be like Dad.” He sighed. “Deep down, I do still want more children.”
“What do you mean? You can’t be loyal, understanding, compassionate and a man of conscience because of societal norms?”
“You know what I mean. Maybe I’m a bit more traditional than you thought.”
“If by that you mean looking after your family and bringing them up with good values but never treating women like chattel or second class citizens, or expecting them to prove their fertility before they are worthy of marriage, then I hope you are traditional. That is our family’s tradition. Women can do anything nowadays. They can rule the world. You have a beautiful daughter and God has brought another beautiful woman to love you again. Look sharp so you don’t lose her.”
Femi took in what his mother had said. He had always seen himself as a new, reconstructed Naija guy. The kind of man who was always ranting about how chauvinistic and male-orientated aspects of Nigerian culture could be, who stood up for the rights of women, and liked to be thought of as a progressive kind of chap. It worried him that occasionally he struggled with the kind of thoughts that made him feel no different to the kind of guy he used to despise. Culture was strong, and sometimes swimming against the tide was not only wearying but could make you unpopular.
“Look, do you love this girl?” his mother asked.
“I never thought I could love again after Sola, but when I met Deola … At first she was just another consultant that knew her job. Then gradually I just found myself looking forward to the next time I would hear her laugh, watch her smile, just bask in that beauty. She inspires me. I admire her accomplishments, her drive, her ambition, her business mind. She gets on well with my daughter, isn’t into all this material stuff, only wants to give and not take. She is full of ideas and enthusiasm. She has a great sense of humour and—”
“OK, son. I think you need to tell her all this stuff o.” She paused. “I went to see her today.”
“How did you get her address?”
“Morenike got it from Funmi. I would be quick about it if I was you. She told me she is thinking of going back to England soon.”
Femi didn’t need to hear anything more. He got up and picked up the keys to his car.
Deola was in her bedroom going through her wardrobe and flinging clothes into a big suitcase. Funmi stood near the door with a speculative look on her face.
“I cannot believe you really are going back to London next week. Why so sudden?”
“I’ve just told you what has been on my mind for the past month now. It’s time. You are better now. So my work here is done.” Deola gave her friend a smile and picked up a pair of blue high-heeled sandals. “Give these to Irene for me. We are the same size and she always said she liked them.”
“Have you told the guys at Target PR that you are going? At least they would like to do a send-off for you?”
“I don’t do goodbyes.”
“You funny oyibo woman! Una just wan leave us like dat abi?”
“I’ve had fun. It was a challenge. I needed to get away from London.” Deola was matter of fact. “Now it’s time to go back and face life again.”
Funmi looked at her intently for some time. “Does Oga know you are leaving?”
Deola’s response was to pick up a white lace blouse and hold it up. “What about this – it looks like your size?”
Funmi ignored her question “So you have not told him?”
“I don’t have to run my life’s decisions by any him or anyone else. I only just told my parents, you know.”
The doorbell sounded and both of them looked at each other. Funmi peered outside and laughed.
“You cannot guess who just parked up downstairs?”
“Who?”
“Oga.”
Deola couldn’t believe the guy’s timing.
After letting Femi in, Funmi went downstairs to ‘go and greet’ one of the neighbours, even though it was almost 8pm.
Deola and Femi were left in the small sitting room together, and neither spoke. Deola was seething inside that Funmi hadn’t even given her the chance to put on something more appropriate than her T-shirt and shorts before she had skipped off happily, like a lamb in a field.
“You look well,” he said, his eyes drinking her up.
She hardly glanced at him. “Femi, what do you want?”
“I needed some answers.”
She laughed, a short, bitter sound. “I hope you aren’t asking me the meaning of life because I’m having problems trying to answer some of the big questions myself.”
“I came to you because these are questions only you can answer.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “OK.”
“First, I would like to tell you that I’m really sorry for the way I dealt with the whole SojiD thing. I never for one minute questioned your integrity or your code of ethics. It was just me trying to process the whole boyfriend thing. I won’t say I’m there yet, but my mother is working on me. I just need a little time to get used to the fact that she is no longer my little girl.”
Deola shrugged. “OK.”
“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me the truth? Why do you always seem to shut me out?”
“I never lied to you.”
“No. But you didn’t trust me with all the details I needed to make an informed decision.”
“Some things are private. Best not shared.”
Femi ran a hand over his forehead and came to sit next to her. “Deola, stop being so bloody strong! Open up and let me in for once. What happened back in London? I know that a woman like you doesn’t just leave the UK like that and come here to work. I know you were trying to get away from something. I just hoped that one day you would trust me enough to tell me. I hoped that once I knew what it was, we could move to the future together – but you wouldn’t tell me about it. It was always there between us like some grey shadow.”
“That’s my private business. Give me one good reason why I should trust you with that?”
“Because I’m in love with you.”
“So what? What does that actually mean any more? Usually nothing more than the paper it’s written on.”
“I don’t blame you for feeling angry at me. I could have handled things differently.”
She shrugged. “I’m not angry with you. I’m just a realist, and I didn’t want to build your hopes up.”
“I’m not leaving here till you talk to me. Tell me what happened back in the UK with the other guy.”
So slowly she began to tell him about Kunle, and how she had dated him for five years. About trying without success for a baby for years, and his ultimatum – get pregnant and get a ring. She told him about the breakup after meeting with the consultant. How a month later she had bumped into her ex and his fiancée while shopping, and the very painful encounter that had ensued. How she had taken a friend’s suggestion about a change of scene and decided to come to Nigeria.
“I’m so sorry you went through all that,” Femi said slowly, his voice quiet.
Deola was dabbing at her eyes. “From the reaction I got from my ex and the general way marriage is seen in our culture, I knew that in the eyes of many I had nothing to offer a potential groom. So I shut that side down and put my all into developing myself and my career. I came over here for a breather. Falling for you wasn’t part of the deal, but you made it so hard for me. You were so understanding, easy to talk to and you respected me, valued me as a colleague and friend. When you told me you had feelings for me, I felt exactly the same way. After we kissed, things started accelerating and I started getting apprehensive about the baby thing. I mean wherever I went – colleagues, family members, the woman down the road – everyone was talking about babies and children. I got the text from Amber telling me that if I loved you I wouldn’t pursue the relationship and I thought I was doing the best thing by breaking it off.” Tears spilled from her eyes.
“Look babes, don’t cry please. You’ve got to hear me out.” Femi stood up and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket. “I wrote this note to you last week at midnight. I was lying on my bed and I couldn’t sleep, wondering how things had come to this. I wanted to express how I felt.”
Deola blew her nose. “OK … ” she said hesitantly.
Femi cleared his throat and began to read. “My darling Deola, love comes in all shapes and sizes. The first time, it came in the shape of a smart sharp lawyer who was passionate about the law and our child. The second time, it has come in the form of a cute, serious-minded public relations expert that I have come to love with every part of my being. Loving you is daily making me into the kind of man that I believe you deserve.
I realise now that for love to be the kind that endures it has to come without conditions. If it does, it is not love. It is just a business arrangement where a woman gives a man her body when he wants it, food for the belly, and children because society expects it. He in turn gives her his name and his credit card and lets her live in his big house, along with the rest of his material goods. I have friends who live like that. I would rather not.”
He threw away the paper and drew her into his arms.
“Adeola Akanke Banjoko, I love the way you smile at me. The sound of your voice. When I kiss you and fit that cute, curvy body of yours against mine, it makes me anticipate waking up every night for the rest of my life and see you sleeping beside me. I want to wipe away your tears and be your lover, your friend, the one you turn to when the going gets tough. I want you at my side when life just doesn’t make sense. So my heart is yours. Unconditionally yours.”
Deola was still crying and dabbing at her eyes. He hesitated slightly but continued.
“Babes, I could have another child with another woman, but no other woman makes me feel like you do, speaks to the storm in my life and makes it look like sunshine, makes me feel I can face anything. The way you inspire me to look for and see the best in every one and in every situation. So, in my own clumsy way, I’m asking you to do me the honour of becoming my wife because I can’t imagine anyone else that I want to continue on this journey called life with.” He took a breath. “I want children. I can’t deny that.” He looked deep into her eyes. “But I want you more. So much more – and I’m at peace with whatever happens in that direction. Children or no children.”
Deola’s eyes filled with joy as she whispered, “I love you too. I would love to be your wife.”
Femi looked down into her bemused face. “Thank you for making me the happiest man alive. I love you.” His lips brushed against hers and she clung to him, the tears rolling silently down her face. “You’re adorable. He wasn’t worthy of you. I want to make up for all the suffering you have had to endure because of the ignorance of others.”
“Now, that’s an offer that I can’t refuse.” She smiled and looked up into his eyes. The depth of his love filled her with awe.
“Marry me soon, darling. I can’t wait to make you my wife.” He kissed her again, and after some time he lifted his head. “Does this mean the London trip is cancelled?”
She snuggled up to him and whispered, “What do you think?” before her lips found his again.