Love and sacrifice
Chika staggered from side to side down the road, oblivious of his immediate environment.
To passers by he could be judged as heavily drunk, but it was 4:00pm and he was sober.
The soft evening wind gently harassed his unbuttoned khaki shirt. He was in his full NYSC uniform, the 7/7.
His cap on his left hand and a wedding card on his right hand. He barely lifted his orange jungle boots, digging them into the red earth as he staggered home.
His heart was shattered, his world was crashing. The day dreams and pictures he nursed in his mind since childhood, all broken. How it all went wrong, he couldn't have seen it coming.
If their love was real it was difficult to explain and accept this turn of events but, If it was fake, then what have they been doing since over a decade ago. He needed answers but his grief was most persuasive.
* * *
Chika walked into a class accompanied by his mum in 2005, after enrolling at the proprietor's office.
This was barely two months after his father's burial. He and his mother were still heartbroken, infact she was still wearing the traditional igbo mourning attire.
A white Bubba and wrapper, with white bead necklace and earrings. By Igbo culture she ought to mourn for at least six months before even stepping out of the house, but he was her only child,
'Otu mkpuru anya jii isi ugwo - the one good eye owing blindness'. She would not be satisfied unless she came with him, as he begins his secondary education.
Usually, Chika was not keen on public display of affection from his mother, but he couldn't help but be grateful she came.
Father died in the strangest of ways and Chika had been left heart broken and overwhelmed by the vacuum left. The man left home healthy and as usual dropped him off at school and performed their usual blind hand ritual before he drove off.
Before break time, the headmaster appeared in his class, called him and asked him to pack all his things, he was going home.
He did nothing to warrant expulsion but he obeyed nonetheless. He figured it was something worse when he saw his uncle Madu, waiting for him in the principal's office.
He got home and found everything normal. Mum and dad were not around, they were at work usually at that time of the day and he was supposed to be in school. He enquired why uncle Madu brought him home but he was met with a pitiful stare, a sigh and a rub on the head.
Thirty minutes later three cars parked inside the compound. He saw familiar faces run out of the cars in front and behind, towards the car in the middle. They were his aunts and uncles. The door of the middle car Opened and his mother was helped out by eager and careful aunts.
He ran out to meet her. The sight of her son running towards her, broke her, she wriggled free of her companions and ran to meet her son. She screamed in tears, as she fell half way,
"Nwam ooo, ha anara gi nna gi oh!, Ewooh! Ofu mkpuru nwa na enwegh nwanne, aburu kwuo nwa na enwegh nna oh - my child, they have taken your father. My only child who had no brothers or sisters, has now been made fatherless too"
That day still floods his eyes with tears whenever he remembers it.
Mother became his rock. He made him strong and encouraged him to continue with his common entrance exams. She was all he had now and he was going to make her proud and shame the enemies.
So, he was glad to face the sea of strange faces before him with mother by his side. He felt strong. Mother hugged and kissed him before she left. His new classmates would mock him later but mockery from strangers who did not matter to him, was a little price to pay for the happiness of the one person who matters most to him, Mother.
Secondary school was rough, he was confident but enjoyed only his own company. The demise of his father made him wary of letting anyone too close, even though he may not have known. They always go away eventually, why cultivate potential hurt he thought.
He sat at the back of the class because he was too tall for the front and it was the most detached part of the class, he could walk in and out easily, unnoticed.
He dreaded asking anyone for help so he studied hard. He topped his class but Maths was a headache. He always got his lowest score in maths no matter how hard he worked. He hoped to overturn that.
He was sitting alone in class after school practising his math. It was a frustrating subject, he was unconsciously hitting his forehead with his palm, nudging his brain to step up.
"A coconut head will always be a coconut head, don't force it, there is no brain in it, Just liquid juice"
He turned around. It was Trustlin, one of his most troublesome female classmates. Her infamous foul mouth was a more interesting reputation than her unmatched aptitude for maths. He ignored her and returned his gaze to his book.
"The least a head that big could do is know maths. How will you get a girlfriend being a loner and an empty head. You will die lonely."
He could not help but chuckle, she was worth her weight in gold, he was impressed. His dad had been one of those foul mouthed beings who tainted even the sweetest of expressions with sarcasm.
He was used to it. Her shiny brown skin and darker lip shade reminded him of her father, except his father was lighter in complexion.
He heard her gentle steps coming toward him and he played his own prank.
She was about three more steps away from him, he sprang up to his feet suddenly with the ferocity of a wounded bully. Trustlin froze in her tracks and he could see her slightly shiver.
He wore his angry expression and being taller than her, he was physically imposing. She broke into an apologetic chorus of 'Sorry, sorry, sorry i was joking', slowly tiptoeing back to the door. He Burst into hysterical laughter.
"I knew it, you are all mouth and no action..." He continued laughing uncontrollably. She was embarrassed though impressed, she did not expect the big loner had a sense of humour but, she was not one to lose a fight easily.
"When you finish laughing, you can teach yourself that math. To think I was coming to help you."
He stopped laughing but he did not hear her walk away, he resumed the laughter.
She eventually taught him math everyday after school and he coached him in other subjects.
Their relationship began with math and a joke. It had been filled with laughter all through. From their first kiss in her parents living room - they did it so quickly before her mum came back from the kitchen where she went to check her cooking pot. They had just broken up the kiss, when she walked in. It was a close shave. They laughed so hard in her presence that she could not help but join them.
From that day, Her mum always called him 'Trustlin's laughter.' She said her daughter was not the laughing type until he showed up. They were fourteen.
Their first intimate moment in the University was laughter induced. They had been so nervous they bought all kinds of alcohol and recreational drugs. They ended up taking turns vomiting all night.
They laughed so hard in the morning, with their clothes off. They did not have intercourse, it was a scene only two free spirited lovers would find funny. Exhausted and engulfed in the smell of puke, they laughed so hard. He kissed her and it turned into an electric make out climaxing in parted hymen and new depths of love found.
The first time she told him she loved him, he had stuttered as his chest tightened. He spent five minutes getting himself together before saying it. She stared expectantly into his eyes the whole five minutes. They laughed so hard when he said it.
"I would have looked into your eyes forever until you said it. I still manage help you first talk am, you think say I go let your issues with commitment con deny me the pleasure of your reply. "
They laughed. In the bus, in church, alone and with friends. Until three weeks ago when he got his call up letter.
He just got his call-up letter and was spending the night before orientation camp, with her. She stopped him in the middle of sex and did the ritual his father always performed whenever he dropped him at school, the blind hand ritual.
She closed her eyes, and rubbed his face from forehead down to his lips with her palm, whispering:
"I'd love you even if I was blind, if I was dead, know I died loving you. No one else but you. "
His father didn't say those words. When he did it, it was more of a joke. He would say,
"let me memorize your face incase i go blind. "
Trustlin wouldn't divulge what she meant, she kissed him and pressed him close to her bare skin. She seldom got emotional and whenever she did, he tried not to make her regret it. She sucked on his ears and whispered,
"Make love to me, like you would if there was no tomorrow for us".
* * * *
It all made sense to him now, as he staggered through the street. He understood now why she opted to go with batch B despite his pleading with her to do otherwise.
He spent the three weeks of camp dreaming of her shiny ebony skin.
When he returned home from camp, he had barely dropped his bag before running to meet his laughter.
He entered her compound beaming with laughter, cheek to cheek. Her mother met him and called him as usual, "my daughter's laughter".
She brought him food but he was impatient. "where is Trustlin ma?".
She sighed sadly, picked up an envelope and handed it to him.
He opened it.
It was not a letter, it was a card,
"Matti weds Trustlin."
He checked the date, it read:
"May 23rd, 2016."
The day he left for camp. He left the house holding the wedding card, dumbstruck.
Lost deep in his misery, slowly his eyes squinted from the lights that hit them. Slowly, the discomfort of his eyes brought his brain back to reality. He was shocked to find himself in the middle of the road.
Cars were blaring horns and flashing lights at him. Awakened to the danger of his immediate situation, he tried to run but his feet was too weak to move. He fell and shut his eyes, hoping not to wake up again.
To be continued...
To passers by he could be judged as heavily drunk, but it was 4:00pm and he was sober.
The soft evening wind gently harassed his unbuttoned khaki shirt. He was in his full NYSC uniform, the 7/7.
His cap on his left hand and a wedding card on his right hand. He barely lifted his orange jungle boots, digging them into the red earth as he staggered home.
His heart was shattered, his world was crashing. The day dreams and pictures he nursed in his mind since childhood, all broken. How it all went wrong, he couldn't have seen it coming.
If their love was real it was difficult to explain and accept this turn of events but, If it was fake, then what have they been doing since over a decade ago. He needed answers but his grief was most persuasive.
* * *
Chika walked into a class accompanied by his mum in 2005, after enrolling at the proprietor's office.
This was barely two months after his father's burial. He and his mother were still heartbroken, infact she was still wearing the traditional igbo mourning attire.
A white Bubba and wrapper, with white bead necklace and earrings. By Igbo culture she ought to mourn for at least six months before even stepping out of the house, but he was her only child,
'Otu mkpuru anya jii isi ugwo - the one good eye owing blindness'. She would not be satisfied unless she came with him, as he begins his secondary education.
Usually, Chika was not keen on public display of affection from his mother, but he couldn't help but be grateful she came.
Father died in the strangest of ways and Chika had been left heart broken and overwhelmed by the vacuum left. The man left home healthy and as usual dropped him off at school and performed their usual blind hand ritual before he drove off.
Before break time, the headmaster appeared in his class, called him and asked him to pack all his things, he was going home.
He did nothing to warrant expulsion but he obeyed nonetheless. He figured it was something worse when he saw his uncle Madu, waiting for him in the principal's office.
He got home and found everything normal. Mum and dad were not around, they were at work usually at that time of the day and he was supposed to be in school. He enquired why uncle Madu brought him home but he was met with a pitiful stare, a sigh and a rub on the head.
Thirty minutes later three cars parked inside the compound. He saw familiar faces run out of the cars in front and behind, towards the car in the middle. They were his aunts and uncles. The door of the middle car Opened and his mother was helped out by eager and careful aunts.
He ran out to meet her. The sight of her son running towards her, broke her, she wriggled free of her companions and ran to meet her son. She screamed in tears, as she fell half way,
"Nwam ooo, ha anara gi nna gi oh!, Ewooh! Ofu mkpuru nwa na enwegh nwanne, aburu kwuo nwa na enwegh nna oh - my child, they have taken your father. My only child who had no brothers or sisters, has now been made fatherless too"
That day still floods his eyes with tears whenever he remembers it.
Mother became his rock. He made him strong and encouraged him to continue with his common entrance exams. She was all he had now and he was going to make her proud and shame the enemies.
So, he was glad to face the sea of strange faces before him with mother by his side. He felt strong. Mother hugged and kissed him before she left. His new classmates would mock him later but mockery from strangers who did not matter to him, was a little price to pay for the happiness of the one person who matters most to him, Mother.
Secondary school was rough, he was confident but enjoyed only his own company. The demise of his father made him wary of letting anyone too close, even though he may not have known. They always go away eventually, why cultivate potential hurt he thought.
He sat at the back of the class because he was too tall for the front and it was the most detached part of the class, he could walk in and out easily, unnoticed.
He dreaded asking anyone for help so he studied hard. He topped his class but Maths was a headache. He always got his lowest score in maths no matter how hard he worked. He hoped to overturn that.
He was sitting alone in class after school practising his math. It was a frustrating subject, he was unconsciously hitting his forehead with his palm, nudging his brain to step up.
"A coconut head will always be a coconut head, don't force it, there is no brain in it, Just liquid juice"
He turned around. It was Trustlin, one of his most troublesome female classmates. Her infamous foul mouth was a more interesting reputation than her unmatched aptitude for maths. He ignored her and returned his gaze to his book.
"The least a head that big could do is know maths. How will you get a girlfriend being a loner and an empty head. You will die lonely."
He could not help but chuckle, she was worth her weight in gold, he was impressed. His dad had been one of those foul mouthed beings who tainted even the sweetest of expressions with sarcasm.
He was used to it. Her shiny brown skin and darker lip shade reminded him of her father, except his father was lighter in complexion.
He heard her gentle steps coming toward him and he played his own prank.
She was about three more steps away from him, he sprang up to his feet suddenly with the ferocity of a wounded bully. Trustlin froze in her tracks and he could see her slightly shiver.
He wore his angry expression and being taller than her, he was physically imposing. She broke into an apologetic chorus of 'Sorry, sorry, sorry i was joking', slowly tiptoeing back to the door. He Burst into hysterical laughter.
"I knew it, you are all mouth and no action..." He continued laughing uncontrollably. She was embarrassed though impressed, she did not expect the big loner had a sense of humour but, she was not one to lose a fight easily.
"When you finish laughing, you can teach yourself that math. To think I was coming to help you."
He stopped laughing but he did not hear her walk away, he resumed the laughter.
She eventually taught him math everyday after school and he coached him in other subjects.
Their relationship began with math and a joke. It had been filled with laughter all through. From their first kiss in her parents living room - they did it so quickly before her mum came back from the kitchen where she went to check her cooking pot. They had just broken up the kiss, when she walked in. It was a close shave. They laughed so hard in her presence that she could not help but join them.
From that day, Her mum always called him 'Trustlin's laughter.' She said her daughter was not the laughing type until he showed up. They were fourteen.
Their first intimate moment in the University was laughter induced. They had been so nervous they bought all kinds of alcohol and recreational drugs. They ended up taking turns vomiting all night.
They laughed so hard in the morning, with their clothes off. They did not have intercourse, it was a scene only two free spirited lovers would find funny. Exhausted and engulfed in the smell of puke, they laughed so hard. He kissed her and it turned into an electric make out climaxing in parted hymen and new depths of love found.
The first time she told him she loved him, he had stuttered as his chest tightened. He spent five minutes getting himself together before saying it. She stared expectantly into his eyes the whole five minutes. They laughed so hard when he said it.
"I would have looked into your eyes forever until you said it. I still manage help you first talk am, you think say I go let your issues with commitment con deny me the pleasure of your reply. "
They laughed. In the bus, in church, alone and with friends. Until three weeks ago when he got his call up letter.
He just got his call-up letter and was spending the night before orientation camp, with her. She stopped him in the middle of sex and did the ritual his father always performed whenever he dropped him at school, the blind hand ritual.
She closed her eyes, and rubbed his face from forehead down to his lips with her palm, whispering:
"I'd love you even if I was blind, if I was dead, know I died loving you. No one else but you. "
His father didn't say those words. When he did it, it was more of a joke. He would say,
"let me memorize your face incase i go blind. "
Trustlin wouldn't divulge what she meant, she kissed him and pressed him close to her bare skin. She seldom got emotional and whenever she did, he tried not to make her regret it. She sucked on his ears and whispered,
"Make love to me, like you would if there was no tomorrow for us".
* * * *
It all made sense to him now, as he staggered through the street. He understood now why she opted to go with batch B despite his pleading with her to do otherwise.
He spent the three weeks of camp dreaming of her shiny ebony skin.
When he returned home from camp, he had barely dropped his bag before running to meet his laughter.
He entered her compound beaming with laughter, cheek to cheek. Her mother met him and called him as usual, "my daughter's laughter".
She brought him food but he was impatient. "where is Trustlin ma?".
She sighed sadly, picked up an envelope and handed it to him.
He opened it.
It was not a letter, it was a card,
"Matti weds Trustlin."
He checked the date, it read:
"May 23rd, 2016."
The day he left for camp. He left the house holding the wedding card, dumbstruck.
Lost deep in his misery, slowly his eyes squinted from the lights that hit them. Slowly, the discomfort of his eyes brought his brain back to reality. He was shocked to find himself in the middle of the road.
Cars were blaring horns and flashing lights at him. Awakened to the danger of his immediate situation, he tried to run but his feet was too weak to move. He fell and shut his eyes, hoping not to wake up again.
To be continued...
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