We met at the end of the road, the one that leads to the village shrine. It was the pathway in which men often pass through, to inquire what tomorrow holds for them. We held hands under the iconic iroko tree, which is very old. Ancient stories said it must have witnessed so many nights like these. The night was windy, the air being set loose, burst into different directions, searching for nothing in particular. The heavens looked flawless that night, the crescent light of the moon shone above our heads. “If you leave me, I will die” she muttered after a long while of admirative silence. These words burgled me with a strong sensation. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. She was shy, if not, she would have seen the fear in my eyes. What she said, her words, like heavy chains, dangled around my neck; they choked and prevented me from uttering what I had prepared for the night.
My uncle, the younger brother of my mom, who had come home for Christmas, was going back. He had suggested I go back with him to Lagos. My mother had received this with joy, she saw it as an avenue for me to make a living, and also help the family. My father, Papa Ayanawu, as he was fondly called by the villagers— which meant one whose words shouldn’t be taken lightly— cleared his throat.
I looked at him, searched for something that couldn’t be spoken by words alone. His eyes spoke—I knew he hated to see me leave. Even with his stoic mannerism, he had in depth, the affection of a mother towards me.
Papa spoke; “it is good to see that you have come of age, and you are in a better stead to decide, if you want to follow your uncle to Lagos. But son, if you decide to go, know that your mother and I won’t be the one to watch over you there. The responsibility lies on your uncle and God. Lagos is different from our village, but I believe with what your mother and I have taught you, you can make it if you stay focused.” He rested his back on the chair, his favorite one, the closest to the window. His eyes were with a cloud of darkness, I couldn’t watch for long for they were watery, they could cloud my own judgment. Oh papa!!!!
I hurried down and here I was, holding the hands of Afame, having lost my vocal chord.
”It’s getting dark” I managed to say, “I have something to do for my mother back home.”
She struggled to remove her hands from mine and said “I will see you tomorrow.” I was both worried and relieved.
With my now faded tone I replied “yes, yes, at the village square, in the evening.”
After the first cock crow, my mother staggered in the dark, into my room and called out my name. I answered, it was a quick one since I’ve been up and lost in thoughts of what the day held. She asked me to sit up, I did.
“When you get to Lagos, have patience and learn everything from your uncle. as You can see, he is doing very well for himself and you shouldn’t forget home” she uttered softly.
“Here is a wrapper to cover yourself during the cold days, and I hope you have packed everything you are going to need.”
Yes, I responded.
Before day break, my uncle and I set off on the long journey to Lagos.
It had been a year and 13 days since I left the village. Some days I was happy to have made the decision and on some other days, life was full of chaos. I thought of home, my mother, the sad eyes of my father that night. Even after a long time, I still couldn’t get it out of my mind. They were evident in my imagination when I closed my eyes. Anytime I thought of Akame, I became extra sad at my selfish self. She was the love of my life and I had left without telling her my plans. She must have become the joke of the village, considering how many boys she had turned down, just to be with me.
The horn of my uncle’s peugeot disrupted my line of thought, and I went to open the gate for him. That had become a part of my daily chore since my cousin, Buchi, went to the university. My uncle had earlier gone out to enjoy Sunday evening with his friends at the usual bar.
His car roared into the compound and speedily moved to the parking spot. He came down and handed over to me his big purse, which I collected and followed him like I was his PA.
Just as we came into the house, he asked for his purse and handed over to me a letter. “This came from the village, your parents have written to you. It seems they have missed you a great deal.” “Thank you uncle,” I said and hurriedly walked to my room as I couldn’t wait to read the contents of the letter.
I read the contents the first time, in a paced manner, they were asking about my being and if I would have a chance to visit for the upcoming festival. Given the literacy of my parents, I’m sure my sister, Ada, must have written the letter for them.
What caught my fancy was the side note she wrote at the bottom end of the letter.
“Hi brother, I know your heart must have been here since you left for Lagos. I want to tell you that Akame is getting married this coming weekend, now you can’t rest and not regret leaving her. You made the right decision for yourself and for your family. It’s time to move on.”
As I read it the second time, it riled up mixed feelings from my belle. I was happy on one side for her to have moved on speedily, meanwhile I was sad that I had lost my love in the struggle for a better living.
But at least now, I could focus on becoming a better man without thinking about Akame.