The next day being
Friday, I finished earlier in school. I
rushed home and took a nice hot shower.
I quickly dressed and was about to leave the house to go visit with my
aunt. Just as I was about to leave, my
phone rang. I rushed to answer it,
thinking it was Sally calling. Instead,
I heard the whispering voice of a lady I did not recognize saying, “Good
afternoon Mr. Thompson.”
“Yes, good afternoon
ma,” I said nervously with my heart thumping as if something terrible had
happened. Impatiently I asked “May I
know who I’m talking to?”
“This is Tricia;
I’m the manager for ‘Nice and Cute Boutique’ in Banjul, twenty-two, Culture Crescent. A friend of yours was here this morning to purchase
a gift for you. We would like to deliver
it and need to know when you will be home to receive the delivery. I
heaved a sigh of relief.
‘A friend,’ I thought
before asking, “Did this friend give you a name or an address?”
“No sir, I’m sorry he didn’t. It’s a customized gift and we were told that
once you saw the gift, you would know who sent it.”
“O.K. thanks!”
“Can we bring it to
your home now?”
“No. Just hold it there. I’m on my way out and I’ll stop there in
twenty minutes to pick it up.”
I picked my car’s key
and the things my aunt wanted me to bring to her, and set on the journey to her
house.
I stopped by the
boutique, walked in and found the lady who called me. I collected the gift and was heading out the
door when she called me back. “Sir, we
need to refund you with two hundred and seventy five dalasis for the delivery
charges.”
“Thanks. Tell you what, you keep it and buy yourself drinks
tonight!”
I hurried into my car
to see who had sent the gift. Once inside my car, I quickly removed the gift
wrapping. To my surprise, I found an
eloquent three-piece navy blue single breasted button suit and a sky blue shirt
with a white collar. ‘This must have cost a fortune?’ I thought.
My mind centred on a tag attached to the gift,
it read:
‘Pls. don’t reject this.
With love
from the lady,
Who has
brought you so much tears and pains;
And also
taught you to be strong.”
A.B
I smiled as I matched the initials for Aminata
Bangoro, the daughter of Alhaji Zakari Bangoro, the honourable Minister for
Works and Housing, The Gambia.
As I was putting the suit back into the gift
box, I remembered our discussion of the previous day with her voice
reverberating in my brain, “If you mean it, come and pick me up from school
tomorrow at 3pm and take me to your house”
I checked my
wristwatch for the time and discovered it was already 2.15pm. ‘How can I make
it down to her school in forty-five minutes?’
I packed the gift
neatly; set the wheel rolling and headed straight for my aunt’s house. With my thoughts now on Amie, I was
pleasantly surprised to find that my aunt was not home.
Leaving my aunt’s
house, I sped through the Mainland
Bridge in 15 minutes. I reached the main highway and sped towards
the Airport link road. At exactly 3.07 pm,
I pulled up in front of the law school gates.
As I was about to ask
the security guards for Amie’s whereabouts, I saw her walking towards me. I lost all words. Sleek and seductively, she cat-walked towards
me majestically, smiling amusingly. She
was wearing a beautiful Senegalese
native design with colourful beads on her neck and wrists. At this moment, she had never been more
beautiful. Her attire was completed with
a matching colour head tie and a maroon colour bag and shoes. I stood looking at her with open
admiration. Taking my hand into her, she
leaned very close to me and kissed me lightly on my left cheek. “You look extremely gorgeous today.” I said.
“Thanks darling,” She
said and hopped into the car.
“I received the gift
you sent. Thanks so much for it.” I said as I sat beside her. I started the car, and drove out of the
premises.
“If such a gift is not
for you, who else can I give?” She queried.
“It was as if you knew
I needed another suit for church. It’s
quite beautiful! It’s almost as beautiful
as you. ” I smiled and pulled onto the highway.
“You have started
again.” She cautioned.
“Aren’t you beautiful?
If any man says that you are not beautiful, then he deserves to be struck with
blindness.” Accelerating the car, I
overtook a sluggish bus on the highway.
“Stop flattering me
for God’s sake.” Amie said pulling my
ear lobe and laughing.
“I’m serious, If not because
my hands are tight, I could do
anything to have you as mine forever and ever.”
“Untie the hands and prove
it.” She pressed further as I managed my
way through the congested city traffic, concentrating on my driving; I tried to
negotiate my way among the crowded Friday worshippers.
After about 3 minutes drive away from the
crowd, I started my romantic oratory, “Would you care to know that moon and
stars are the beauty of the night just at the sun beautifies the day. Do you realise there’s no cock without a
crown… if you doubt your beauty, look into my eyes. If you see yourself in
them, search no more … you’re a word for the voice … water for thirst.” I said looking at her face.
She stretched forth, peered
into my eyes. Before I realised what was
happening, she kissed me on the lips even though I tried to avoid her.
I felt a sudden shock
as I thought of what was coming over me but little did I realise until we got
home, in my residence. Then, I realised I was the proverbial dog, destined to
miss its trail and before long, I dared the hunter’s whistle.
We joked about
different things including my inability to cook. We talked at length about what I wanted the
future to be like for me and whoever becomes my wife.
As soon as we reached
my home she made straight for my kitchen and prepared a nice meal for both of
us that we ate with delight. Then we
journeyed into the world of unknown, engaged in promiscuity, went against my
parents’ wish for my life and God’s guidelines for me as His son.
That night, I knew that I had not
just let down my parents who had taught me the way of the Lord since I was
a child but had also disappointed God who has been preserving me since I was
born.
The illicit game
persisted for a long time. Before I ever
realised how dangerous a viper’s venom could be, Amie had started sleeping at
my house and our secret was known by people near and far.
*****
Realizing Amie had
never met my mother, I asked her to accompany me on a ride to the airport where
I was to pick my mom up on her return from a business trip in London.
That beautiful
afternoon at Banjul
International Airport,
my mother descended from her flight on board KLM. I introduced Amie to her as the daughter of the
works and housing minister. She greeted
her warmly, but from my mother’s reaction, I knew she was not pleased with
her. Bisola did not say a word
throughout the forty-five minutes drive back home. As soon as we arrived at our home, the Château
Rita, she called me inside to have a tête-à-tête with me. “Demola, Demola, Demola…” she exclaimed! “You
are my only son. How many ears have
you?” She enquired attentively.
“Two.” I answered.
“What are they used
for?” She asked further.
“Hearing!” I answered curtly.
“Now, listen to me
attentively with your ears but hear me with your mind.” She started as we took our seats opposite
each other in her private room, “I am a good mother, I have come a long way but
I’ve never been moved by what I see. God
made us, not man. I don’t want people to
start calling you a gold-digger. She waited to see my reaction, it was
unchanged. She said further, “If my eyes
are not faking me I believe that lady in the sitting room was the friend who
came to the matriculation ground with Sally on your matric day.”
She waited for a
response that I would not give. When I
didn’t respond, she stood up and came to sit beside me. Speaking very gently she said to me, “If you honour
me as your mother, leave this gal – she will only cause you problems. Beside
I see nothing wrong with Sally as a person.
Go back to her. I believe she is
a peaceful young lady.” After dropping
that profound statement, she rose and left the room, leaving me alone to pick up
the ruins of my life.
I summoned the courage
and moved out of the room; joined my mother and Amie. I found the two of them standing together discussing
some women’s issue. I thought to myself,
“If my mother would allow herself to get to know Amie, she would love her as I
do.”
Amie and I returned
back home with a discussion full of encomium for my mother. Amie was thrilled to have met her. She said she has always dreamed of meeting
her whenever she read about her in the newspapers and magazines. In her excitement, she expressed how happy
she was that my mother would be her mother-in-law. A silent alarm went off in my head. We had never discussed marriage.
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