- The Storried Platform
‘WHAT WE DO FOR LOVE’ By Nwachukwu Obinna
I was an introvert. Or so I thought. But I was the kind of guy who wished every woman to be bold and daring. Though I only see such in the movies: where a lady chases after a man like her life depends on it. Professing her undying love for the man, who does not seem to care if she exists. The men in the movies all had one thing in common though. They were all handsome.
She walked over to my direction flashing an unknowing smile that Monday afternoon. That was some minutes after I went over to Domino’s for a lunch break after working six hours straight. Quickly I redirected my gaze, not sure I was the one the smile was intended for. ‘Maybe it was a mistake,’ I thought. ‘She definitely took me someone for else.’ The restaurant was scanty and there wasn’t any occupant on the table behind me.
‘Can I join you?’ She asked, making some movements with her eyes which were very confusing.
‘Yes. Em…, well. Please. Of course.’
We conversed for the whole of two hours that day. And exchanged phone numbers before we left. Adesuwa became my first and my last girlfriend as we got married six months later.
Ten years of a beautiful but childless marriage didn’t go well with my parents. Especially my mother. She could tolerate the fact that I got married to a Yoruba girl but not for the fact that the marriage was without a child. It was not easy for me as much as for my wife as my mother’s intrusion got more annoying. She suggested I do away with Adesuwa and threatened to get me a second wife if I refused. I chose the former instead. Living alone would be better than having a second wife.
Adesuwa left. My mother’s persuasion to get a second wife intensified, but I bluntly refused all. I was in charge; in complete control of my own decisions as she had nothing or no one to threaten me with. But she decided to stay. She was scared of me bringing back Adesuwa if she left.
The doorbell woke me up that morning. It was on a Saturday. But before I came down the stairs to get the door my mother was already there. I was speechless and I could see the astonished look on my mother’s face as she stared motionless at Adesuwa, who stood at the entrance with a swollen stomach. That was six months after she was forced to leave the house.
‘It’s yours,’ Adesuwa said.
I was quiet. I only gave her the same quizzical look as that waltzed on my mother’s face.
‘It’s yours, Obi,’ she gestured. ‘I didn’t know I was pregnant when I left. I’m sorry, I should have returned earlier but—‘
‘Oh! Please my daughter,’ my mother cut in. ‘Don’t say another word please. Come in! Come in!’
Breakfast that morning was more delicious than I remembered being cooked by my mother. Even Adesuwa confirmed it. She made words of compliment than I could count. They both conversed all through the meal, happily ignoring the most common dining etiquette: talking while eating. I looked from one to the other, consuming my meal in quietness.
‘I didn’t know your mother was a terrific cook,’ Adesuwa said moments after we both went to the bedroom. She was undressing to have a bath.
‘She is,’ I replied. ‘You say the girl is six month’s pregnant?’
‘Yes. The doctor confirmed it.’
‘And the adoption papers?’ I asked.
‘Will be processed immediately after she delivered,’ Adesuwa replied.
‘I want to thank you again for doing this.’ I drew closer to where she was. ‘You know… I just can’t bear the thought of my mother, finding out that her only son is impotent.’
Adesuwa smiled. ‘I got lucky,’ she said. ‘And besides, it’s what we do for love.’ She removed the fake baby bump she was wearing and made for the open bathroom.
By Nwachukwu Obinna
I was an introvert. Or so I thought. But I was the kind of guy who wished every woman to be bold and daring. Though I only see such in the movies: where a lady chases after a man like her life depends on it. Professing her undying love for the man, who does not seem to care if she exists. The men in the movies all had one thing in