At one of my women’s meetings during the Christmas holiday, I was
not surprised when the discussion suddenly took a turn away from the
agenda and into something rather personal. This often happens at
most women’s gatherings.
Someone drops an information and then we
find ourselves diving into our archives of experiences as we let our
hairs down to share and compare notes.
Most call it gossip, but that far from the truth. There are lessons to
learn from, shoulders to cry on and hearts full of compassion to
encourage and cheer you on at these gatherings most of the time. Of
all the stories, I was most fascinated by the account I am sharing with
you today. What would you do if after an eleven year courtship, your
fiance dumps you for the daughter of his boss?
As a man, what would inform your decision on who to marry should
two ladies become pregnant for you at the same time? Everyone was
held spellbound as Ronke, poured out her heart. I went home drained
of emotions as I marveled at man’s inhumanity to one another. Indeed,
love is a battle out there and it might take more than a good heart to
win.
“It’s difficult to believe that after 11 years of courtship, I will be raising
my child on my own. I have never felt so disappointed in myself or with
life like I did when it happened. In fact, up until Remilekun was about
three years old, I couldn’t bring myself to really love my child the way I
do now.
Each time I looked at her, I saw something of him in her and the
hatred and hurt I felt for her father would come rushing back and I just
won’t feel like holding her not to mention loving her. I am only too
glad that she’s a girl and not a boy. Perhaps, I would have left the
child at the hospital had it been a male. Now it’s better for me.
Almost fifteen years have rolled by and I’ve been coping very well with
my life. I have a job, a family, my friends and most of all, my lovely
daughter who is doing great. So, when I think about it now, all those 11
years were not wasted after all. Without the years, I wouldn’t have had
my daughter.
I met Bolu at a literary and debating event. We were both in Senior
Secondary, SSS2 and had been part of the teams that represented our
schools at events. The relationship did not however begin until we both
left Secondary School. Almost everyone thought we were a perfect
match.
Though not from the same State, our towns were close. But for
boundary demarcations, we could just be from the same place. Though
we both lived in Lagos, we were not really Lagos people in the real
sense of it. We both lived with relatives in Lagos and had our roots
and families firmly planted in our native towns. In other words, it will
not be incorrect to say we were in Lagos in pursuit of a better life.
Unfortunately, I never knew that Bolu’s quest for his, would be my
downfall. Our love burned like a house on fire. None of our friends who
met at about the same time we did, had relationships that lasted as
ours, and many used to envy our dedication and devotion to each
other.
The relationship continued into our University days. He went to Nsukka
while I was in Lagos, but despite the distance, the relationship
continued. We would only meet during the holidays. During the period,
nothing or no-one could separate us. Not even when we visited our
parents back in the villages. We would always plan to go back there at
the same time, so we could continue seeing each other.
It was all worked out between us, that we were going to get married
eventually. He did date a few girls on the side. At least, I knew about
two of his affairs, though he would always deny them fervently. But the
knowledge didn’t hurt so badly because it was clear that I was highly
preferred and respected above all of them. Besides, I only had eyes for
him and wanted nothing else than to eventually be his wife.
After our graduation, I managed to pick a teaching job with the Lagos
State Government almost immediately, while he was still searching for
the perfect job. In fact, he was also contemplating going for a Masters
degree if he did not get his choice job on time. Things were still better
in the country than they are now. There was money and though he
didn’t ask, I would buy him gifts freely just because I could afford
them.
He finally secured a job with a communications outfit in Lagos. It’s one
of the well established ones and he had good prospects too. It was
only natural that our next project should be making plans towards our
wedding. Since he had always insisted that his dream was to be able
to provide everything for his wife and children, the first step was to
secure an apartment, which we did in Ikeja area of Lagos. I can’t start
recounting how much of my own money went into setting up the place,
even though he paid for it.
Where do I start from? Is it the plates or cutleries? Name any kitchen
utensil you can think of, I bought it. The kitchen is always the major
concern of a woman as you must know and I spent a lot on what I
assumed would be mine. Despite the fact that my uncle didn’t like my
spending the night away from home, he would sometimes allow me to
spend the weekend with him since they all knew we were going to get
married eventually.
After just a year in the company, mother luck seemed to shine on him
and he was made Personal Assistant to the Managing Director. His job
profile included travelling outside the state or country and we were
overjoyed at this. For me, everything was perfect.
It was in the course of the job that he met the MD’s daughter. This
woman is even older than him oh. According to the stories that filtered
to me at the time, it was the lady that threw herself at him. Being
quite old at that time, she was desperate to hook any stray guy that
came her way. Unfortunately, mine caught her attention for whatever
reason she had.
She had returned home from England where she’d gone to study, to
join her father’s company. The old man was said to be grooming her to
take over the company, and so, she was also working directly in his
office and under Bolu’s supervision. They must have started sleeping
together during the course of working hours or thereabout. And I did
not know anything until it was too late.
As fate would have it, I discovered I was pregnant. I was overjoyed
because after our “little mistake” during our undergraduate years, I had
not experienced such a thing until then. At a point, I had even began
regretting our decision but he’d assured me that everything would be
alright. So, I was really surprised when I did not see the reaction I was
expecting when I broke the news to him one evening.
It was when I told him that I was going to keep the baby since we
would be getting married anyway, that I saw that he was really
troubled. To me, the pregnancy would only make things happen but he
was obviously not as happy as I thought he should be. He seemed
scared and confused, mumbled something I could not understand and I
did not see him for the next two weeks. I had to go and fish him out
of his hide-out, when I couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.
Still, he refused to start making plans towards our wedding like I
thought he should. Then, he told me he was not ready for marriage yet
and that we must abort the baby and wait a little longer. Over my dead
body, I told him and a serious quarrel erupted. And though I was so
scared and ashamed to tell my uncle or my parents about the
development, I was determined to keep the baby and marry him.
Then one day, he invited me out, together with a close friend of his
whom I had known for almost as long as we’d been dating. He then
tabled his troubles before me. He told me that he’d met another girl
and that the girl was also expecting his child. He said the girl had
already informed her parents and they had summoned him for
questioning.
He was sorry as he had already given them his consent that he would
marry their daughter, and that plans were already on by the family
towards the wedding. He said he was sorry he could not go back to
inform them that he was no longer interested as the lady was his boss’
daughter and his job would be on the line. I couldn’t believe it. I
wanted to ask several questions, but I could only ask if his own family
were aware and he answered yes. I just got up and took a taxi home.
And though he kept calling, it was to know if I’d made up my mind on
what to do next. I kept to my guns too and told my parents what was
happening. When they summoned him, he turned it into a quarrel,
declaring that he would have nothing to do with the child if I kept it.
His declaration made me only more rigid, like a rebellion, I told him to
go to hell.
They got married and it wasn’t until after the wedding that his mother
deemed it fit to seek me out. She’d heard I was in town and had come
to apologise to my parents and to acknowledge my pregnancy, but in
anger, my parents told her not to come around again. They’ve had two
other children now while I live with my daughter as a single parent.
Over the years, he’d offered to assist with the bills and contribute to
her upkeep, but I have always turned him down. When my daughter is
old enough to understand, I hope to tell her everything. If she finds it
possible to forgive him, then she can. But for me, he will forever
remain an enemy.” Hmm!
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