Unholy Matrimony Chapter 1

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???????? Unholy Matrimony Chapter One:

It was December again, and that meant that the Christmas holiday was around the corner. It was a holiday I had anticipated so much. For the past two years, I had given all to my job and hadn’t travelled out of town, not even to the nearest town. So, I decided that as soon as the holiday began, I would be traveling out of the country to see my family.

After a few weeks of waiting, the holiday did finally come. As soon as I signed out of work, I went to the bank and withdrew enough money. I needed enough money with me because I had projects that I had to do in Nigeria as soon as I got there. It was also the first time my mum would be seeing me in almost four years. The same applied to the rest of my family. They had been praying and fasting for me to come home. Their prayers had been finally answered.

Very early in the morning on Tuesday, that was around 4:00 AM, I woke up from bed and started packing my stuff into two bags. One of the bags was a valise and the other was a backpack. I removed my clothes from the wardrobe, placed them on my bed and looked at them, wondering which one to take and which one not to. Confused, I decided to get help from my personal designer; a bosom friend of mine who lived in the UK.

I got my phone, went to WhatsApp and called her on video. Luckily, she was online and picked only after a few rings.

“Hi, Cara”

“Hi Dozié. You are up this early? I thought you said you would be leaving by 9:00 AM?” She asked.

“Yes, but I need to pack. That’s why I got up this early. How about you? Why are you up this early?”

“I hardly sleep these days. Maybe it’s thanks to the change of environment for me. You know I have only come here recently.”

Needless to say, she helped me do the parking. After I was done, I freshened up, knelt down and prayed to God for journey mercies. The road to Nigeria was a volatile road and anything could happen at any time. After I had prayed, I sneakily went out of the compound, making sure none of my neighbours knew I was traveling out of the country. I got a bike and headed straight for the Mambanda Park. As soon as I got there, I was fortunate enough to get a transportation car that was almost half full. I thanked God for his grace However, that was not all I noticed at the park.

Standing beside the car I was going to take, was a girl who caught my attention immediately. She smiled when our eyes met and then turned her attention to something else. I couldn’t get her off my mind. So, in my mind, I prayed that she should take the same vehicle as me.

Soon the driver came and asked us to give our fares.

“How much is the fare, driver?” I asked.

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“Ten thousand.”

“That’s high na, driver. Can’t you take nine?”

“Chairman, that’s the standard price, and remember you are going to Ekok, not Mamfe. You know how unpredictable that road is these days.”

“Alright, I will pay.” I said, opened my wallet and removed a clean ten thousand note and handed to him. As I did that, I noticed by the corner of my eyes that the beautiful lady was also having her money in her hand, intending to pay the driver, the same driver. My heart leapt with joy. That meant she was going to take the same vehicle as me. As I was putting my wallet back in my pocket, I noticed that she was having a small argument with the driver. The driver seemed to want her to pay extra fare because of the bags she was carrying. I watched with interest as the verbal fencing progressed. I don’t know what she did or said to the driver, but I saw the driver held her around the neck as if she was going to strangle her. That was my cue.

I quickly moved towards them and intervened. I asked the driver to let her go. After a little dragging and pushing, a little insult here and a little there, he let her go. She moved away from him and began adjusting her dress. I asked what the matter was, and I was told that they needed her to pay an extra two thousand for her baggage. In order to solve the problem, I gave the driver two thousand and everything was settled.

We all got into the car and the driver kickstarted the vehicle and we drove off. In the car, no one talked to the other. However, when we reached Mamfe, she broke her silence.

“I want to thank you for coming to my rescue, and for the money you paid in my stead.”

“That’s alright. Most of these drivers are unscrupulous. They always try to swindle any unsuspecting young lady they meet.”

“You are a good man.” She spoke.

“You think so?”

“Yes”

“Alright”

“So where are you headed for?” She asked.

“Warri, how about you?”

“Lagos”

“That’s a long way off.”

“Yes, it is. But I am prepared for it.” She was confident.

“You are a strong lady.” I spoke.

“You think so?”

“Stop repeating my words.” I said in mock reproach and we both laughed at this.

About an hour later, after all the numerous checkpoints, we got to Ekok. The border town with Nigeria. As soon as we alighted the vehicle, we exchanged numbers. As I saved her number, I asked her name.

“What’s your name?”

“Celine, and you?”

“Dozié, our journey ends here. Hope you travel safely to Lagos.”

“Why? Can’t we cross the border together?”

“Nope, I have someone who is coming all the way from Ikom to get me. I have to be going now. I have just called him, and he said he was on his way.”

“Oh!! That’s good for you.”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. As soon as I get to Nigeria, I will text you, alright.”

“Yes, travel safe, good man.”

I smiled at that last statement. I said goodbye to her and her and moved towards a woman who sold yams. I sat in her stall as I waited for my ride from Ikom. About thirty minutes later, he parked in front of the stall, put my luggage in his trunk and asked if I want to do exchange of currency. I answered in the affirmative. So, went to a currency exchange dealer and bought Nigerian Naira. After that, we got into the car and left.

The driver was a veteran around the border area. Most of the immigration officials and border guards knew him. They even had a nickname for him. Therefore, our crossing into Nigeria was easier than I had thought.

Some hours later, I was at Warri. When I got to the park, I didn’t know how to get home. Many bike men and keke men approached me and asked where I was going. However, I was apprehensive. I had heard many stories about Nigeria and especially about Warri. I didn’t want anyone to take advantage of me. In spite of the fact that I was a black man in a black country, everyone I came across was still able to know that I came from another country. My pidgin English, especially, gave me away. As I stood there wondering what to do, a girl who seemed to have been watching me, walked up to me.

“Hello, how are you?” She asked.

“I am good, thank you. How are you, too?” I asked, scanning her from her head to her toe.

“I am good, you look lost.”

“I am not. Do I look lost?” I asked.

“You look like you are not from around here.”

“Yes, I just came into the country. I am wondering how to get a bike, a keke, anything that will take me home. Can you please, help me?”

“I know you are scared.” She laughed. “Don’t worry, I will get you a reliable keke man.”

Soon, one keke man approached us. She stopped him and after haven asked for the directions to my house, I got in. She assured me that the keke man was genuine and would take me to my destination safely. As the man drove off, I kept wondering where the lady had come from. Why had she taken a special interest in me and why had she decided to help me. She was a real Igbo girl, dark and beautiful and seemed to be in her mid-twenties.

Soon the Keke man rounded a corner I was familiar with and reached our house. There was loud cheering as my mum, brothers and sisters came to welcome me. Everyone was so happy to see me again. There were lots of hugs, kisses and some tears too. Finally, all the noise went down, and we moved into our house.

A week later, after I had settled in the village, my mum called me into her bedroom.

“Son, remember you told me to get a good village wife for you, right?”

“Yes, mom. Did you find one for me?”

“Yes, my son. I found one from a good family.”

“What’s her name, Mum?”

“Olamma”

“Wow!! I love the name. It means she is a jewel of beauty.”

“Yes, my son.”

“How soon do I meet her, mum.”

“Today, I asked her to come to the house today.”

An hour later, I was at the back of the house, enjoying the breeze when my younger sister, Ifunanya, came running. She said my mum wanted to see me at the living room. I went to the living room immediately. As soon as I got through the door, I stopped in my tracks in wonder. Sitting in one of the armchairs, very close to my mum, was the same girl who had helped me get a keke when I was stranded. She was Olamma.

TO BE CONTINUED