A Valentine Love Story
The morning broke over the figure of a man and woman sitting on the steps to the large court building. They both looked half asleep and happy. It was almost 8:00 AM but the weather made it seem like it was a lot earlier than that. The mist before them bore the shape of an old man in the vestments of a priest. If one looked closely, one would see him gesturing towards them. They couldn’t see him with their eyes closed and when they opened their eyes, the shape of him was gone.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The woman said nuzzling into the chest of her man who squeezed her around the middle.
“Happy Valentine’s Day my love. You are God’s Valentine’s gift to me,” he said. Behind them, the court doors opened.
***
A year before
It was seven o’clock in the morning on New Lagos Road, the red car in front of Sofia’s Ra4 had a driver who was steering his car like a drunk goat.
“This one na mumu o,” Sofia said under her breath as she cut her hand to the left. She was oblivious to the other car coming behind her and their front eyes kissed with a loud crack. In a flash, car doors opened and slammed. The owner of the beat up taxi came out and began to knock on Sofia’s window.
“Come out!!” He bellowed. “You don jam me, come out!”
She was frozen on her seat for a moment. The shock of colliding with another vehicle in the middle of a busy road had rattled the blood vessels in her heart. Clutching the steering wheel, she attempted to move the car forward. Leaping in front of the car, the taxi driver began to wave and shout. A crowd was gathering, like little blotches of clouds. It took almost everything from her to get out of the car and stand still as the man spat in her face, demanding to get his car fixed. Sofia knew she wasn’t at fault but in that moment, she felt too faint to defend herself.
“I am sorry sir,” she said after a few minutes. Tears of exhaustion gathered in her eyes. When the taxi driver saw those tears, he stopped talking at the top of his voice and instead wagged a finger in front of her face.
“You get luck say you be woman. Wetin I for take your eye see this morning!!” he said and began walking away. As he walked towards his car, he turned for a moment, eyed the damages to his car and couldn’t stop himself from spitting out “And na my papa give me car drive.“.
After he had driven off, Sofia dragged herself into the car and powered it. She looked in the mirror and smiled a sad smile. She would be very late to church but at least she was still looking good. Stepping into the foyer of their office building, she greeted the doorman and then the receptionist. The other woman eyed her and shook her head.
“You’re late Miss,” she said. Sofia walked up to the counter and leaned on it.
“Jane, I was in a car accident.”
Jane put a hand on her chest, faking a heart attack.
“Oh my God, what happened? How did you survive?” She asked.
“It was one stupid taxi driver. I narrowly escaped with my life.”
“Ahem!” a man cleared his throat beside Sofia who reacted as though she had been burned. The trauma of being in a near death situation was keeping her nerves on high alert.
“Are you okay?” The man asked concerned, his hand firm on her arm.
“I am fine,” Sofia said. Jane gave her a critical look. The look said many things but Sofia had to leave her so she could do her job and attend to the kind customer.
“I am sorry to hear that,” her boss said when she told him of her experience that morning. “You look a bit shaken. Why not take the day off?”
“But sir…”
“No buts. Take the day off. Rest and take care of yourself.”
Sofia smiled at him in gratitude. His kindness made her remember their conversation on the day of her interview. That was two years ago. Sofia was sitting in this same chair but it was a lot smaller then. Not only because she had grown in size but because she had grown in charisma. Her boss was also younger, his face and beard still devoid of the little grey hairs that pepper them now.
“Do you have any health issues you would like us to know about?” He had asked.
“I was diagnosed with PCOS last year,” Sofia replied. She was prepared for the backlash. This was the seventh job interview she had gone to in the last three months and most interviewers had freaked out when she told them of her illness. She was expecting him to gather her documents and say “we will get back to you” but he merely nodded and smiled.
“That’s fine. So long as you make an effort to maintain good health.”
“I will do that Sir,” Sofia had responded.
“Congratulations then”
***
She meets him at the car park. He is fiddling with something in the boot of his car. When he sees her, he drops the hood and waits until she is close enough to him.
“Are you feeling better?” He asks. She spares him a sideways glance. Irritated that such a random stranger would think he had the right to ask about her wellbeing.
“I’m better now,” she said with a tight lipped smile. Surprisingly, an answering smile blossomed on his face and it was wide and beautiful.
“Glad to hear that,” he said and turned back to his boot. Sofia entered her car and drove towards home. There was still traffic at the spot she had the accident, the post lockdown rush was still upon everyone in the city. Hawkers were still running around cars, one with his red shirt pulled over his head so that it covered only his back. The overhead bridge that had been empty for months was finally able to kiss the feet of about fifty persons that were crossing over.
Cars created a honking orchestra as bus drivers shouted at the top of their lungs to attract customers. In the middle of all this she sat, stuck between a car and a Uniben shuttle bus. Her destination was a street off Adolor road. It was supposed to be a mere fifteen minutes away from her place of work but now that she had already spent twenty minutes in traffic, her travel time had risen to a shocking forty minutes.
She got home at exactly forty three minutes after she left her office premises. Pa Ahmed, their gateman, went and opened the gate to let her through. He was an old man in his sixties: educated and poised. The only reason he was their gateman was because he had refused to take her mother’s offer to give him a better job. In the twelve years that he had stayed with them, he had been an assistant father.
As she passed through, he rapped on the body of her car, indicating that he wanted her to stop. She lowered her window and watched through the mirror as he walked towards her, his waist curved by age. Limping slightly, he came to stand in front of her.
“Hey kiddo,” he said smiling.
“Hey Daada,” Sofia replied.
“Tread carefully when you get in there,” he said, pointing at the house.
“Whats happening?”
“I don’t know. Can’t worry my old heart with that,” Pa Ahmed said with a tired smile. When she got inside, she knew why he had wanted her to tread carefully. Her parents and her elder sister, Imade, were in a heated argument. The living room showed signs of struggle, pillow cases thrown across the floor and a large luggage lying pensively on the floor.
“You married for love, let me marry for love too. Stop trying to rule my life!” Imade said. Their mother’s hand came over her mouth.
“Have you forgotten that I am your mother? Is it me you are speaking to like that?”
“I’m out of here,” Imade said, kissed Sofia on the cheeks and walked out. Her luggage stood abandoned in the middle of the room.
“Where is dad, mom?”
“He left. He couldn’t take it anymore. Your sister has chosen to bring shame to us.”
“Mom!” Sofia said, feeling the need to put her mom straight. “Imade has made her decision, why not just accept it and love her like that?”
Her mother looked stunned. “You would do the same thing wouldn’t you?”
“Mom..” Sofia began. She really didn’t know what to say. Her mother stared at her so intensely that she had to stare back or look disrespectful. When two minutes later her phone rang, Sofia acknowledged that it was a miracle from God. It was her boss. He hoped she had rested at least. He was so sad to call her back but extra hands were needed.
“I have to go Mom,” she said and got up from her perch. Her mother did not answer.
The streets reminded her of the chaos in her home. She was not surprised that her sister had left. When they were growing up, their parents had been high-handed and just downright controlling. If not that both girls went to school, their parents would have been content with locking them within the confines of their home. That line of thought made her remember an incident.
Imade was tying on clothes their mother recently bought by the window. Sophia, who was about fifteen years old, watched as she put on a blue silk skirt. The skirt was so beautiful and shiny under the room light. They both knew their mother intended for it to be underwear.
“What do you think? Is it good?” Imade asked. Sophia nodded her head quickly, slightly jealous that it wasn’t hers.
“I am wearing it out, Sophia.”
“Ah! Will mommy and daddy not grow horns?” Sophia asked.
“They won’t be back until later,” Imade said smiling. It was their personal joke.
“Where are you going?” Her younger sister asked.
“Prudence’s house. There’s one film she told me about that I want to watch.”
“Come back early o.”
“I will. It is just a two hours movie.” Imade quickly dressed up, wore a kimono over the blue skirt and walked out of the house. Pa Ahmed didn’t notice a thing and if he did, he said nothing. What both girls didn’t know was that their parents would come home two hours earlier.
“Where is Imade?” Papa Sofia had asked. He always said that children were like chickens, when you have only two, it was easy to know when one was missing.
That day, Imade had gotten the beating of her life and grounded for a whole month. She was forbidden to watch TV and spend time with the rest of the family for that whole month. With every severe punishment that Imade had received, Sofia had learnt to be the “good child” and do whatever her parents wanted even if it hurt.
By 5pm, she closed her computer’s face and sighed. Working for hours without end while bleeding non-stop was not fun at all. Slowly, she got up from the chair and limped towards the bathroom. Downstairs, Prince waited for the front door to open. He knew he needed to see her again and perhaps ask for her number. It was not often women caught his eye but this one had caught it and held it fast.
He shouldn’t have let her leave that morning but he was stupefied. She was so beautiful and so soft he felt like carrying her in his arms and taking care of her. The door cracked open and her bag came out, her feet and then her full body. She looked so tired he wondered if she had any intention of driving herself home.
Sofia thought the car park was deserted until the door of the black Lexus opened. It was the man from that morning, smiling at her again. She almost rolled her eyes but changed her mind last minute. He was a customer and she wouldn’t want to drive him away when he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Good evening,” he greeted.
“Hey!” Sofia replied, her voice sounding faint even to her own ears.
“Can I be your chauffeur?” He asked. Sofia smiled and shook her head.
“No, but thanks for asking.” She pressed the button and the doors opened. With her hand on the front door, the world spinned before her eyes. He was beside her in seconds.
“Let me,” he said. She was in his arms. He tucked her into the backseat and began to drive. The next time she opened her eyes they were in the hospital, and he was telling the nurse she was his wife. She was wheeled into the theater and she had the cysts that were growing in her womb removed. The doctor told her the chances of her having children were now greatly reduced.
Sofia came out of recovery dazed but he was there to hold her hand and tell her everything would be okay. His name was Prince Ifeanyi Ikechukwu.
“An igbo man!” her father spat when she brought him home. It was on the 13th of February and the world was falling around Sofia’s ears.
“Yes daddy. An igbo man,” she said. Her mother was sitting alone on the dining table. Since Imade left two years ago, she had withdrawn into herself more everyday. Sofia did not know how to help her. It was clear that the solution to her heart ache would be reconciliation with her daughter but her stubborn mother was too proud to admit she had been wrong. Imade’s home was beautiful and happy. They had been blessed with a beautiful baby girl who was yet to be bathed by grandma.
“I will not allow you to marry an Igbo man. Don’t you know those people are man-eaters?”
“Daddy, I won’t allow you to insult my fiance,” Sofia said. She felt so much pity for her parents but she wasn’t going to tolerate any badmouthing of the man she loved.
“I should have known that you would follow your sister’s footsteps.”
“You are overreacting daddy,” Sofia said with tears in her voice. Prince squeezed her hand.
“Mama Sofia, you see what this girl is doing? What do you have to say?” The old man asked. The silence after his question sagged. Minutes later, her mother got up and left the environment. Sofia took it as her queue to leave. She dropped the parcel she had brought for them on the stool beside her. She hoped they at least looked at it before throwing it in the trash.
Inside were pictures of Imade’s little girl, Favour, and letters both sisters had written and addressed to their parents. As she walked out of the house, Sofia felt like a bird set free and ready to take the long flight home. Home for her took on a new meaning: it meant sitting in the arms of the man she loved and holding on to a little bundle of joy. She stepped out of the gate and the future opened its arms in welcome.
All images are sourced from unsplash
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