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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Fate / Luck / Serendipity
- Published: 04/06/2020
Nana Kwame Obrempong is my name; I am the only son of a family of three. My father is a fetish priest and a farmer in a small town called Yawkrom in the Ashanti Region. We are African traditionalists and in our religion, it is believed that when you give birth and the child looks like you, the child would take your life someday. My mother tells me I was born on a very cold evening in April while my father was at the shrine pouring libation. Before then, a prophecy was foretold that my father would die but his body would not be buried. My mother made sure we spent each day with him as our last. My father however did not like me that much as he believed this myth because I looked exactly like him. When I was about seven years; my father told my mum he was going to buy some farm inputs from Kumasi and never returned. Passengers in the car with him told my mother he alighted in the middle of nowhere and entered the forest and did not return.
Things became difficult for the family because my single mother had to provide for herself and me. My father’s family had come for all our belongings which even included an old radio set we used to listen to Otec fm on. We could hardly afford a three squared meal, Eno Ama. My mother resulted to selling second hand clothing, water and anything she could get her hand on. I was of school going age and in class one; I helped my mother sell water and sometimes snail on the highway after school and during school holidays. My aunty offered to let me stay with her in the city when I was in my final year in Junior High School. I was glad as I was finally going to get to see Kumasi; I had only read and heard stories about it from the older folks who had visited the city in the past.
I moved to stay with my aunt after my basic school examinations; she had three children and stayed with her husband. I was treated very nice when I got there. I was asked to sleep in the couch to pass the night pending the preparation of a room for me. I was glad as I even slept on a mat with my mother back at home. Very early the next morning, I felt a sharp slap on my cheek. It was that of my aunty asking me to wake up and do the chores. This is how it continued till I got admission into one mixed senior high school in Kumasi. It was my first choice and I was glad.
My first day in the school was not a pleasant one, I was given three cups of gari and sugar without washing soap and others, my aunt told me she had paid for the dining hall and so I could eat from there. My mother later visited and gave me money as well as some provisions. The first year in school passed very fast. It was a great year; I placed third in my class and got on the GNPC scholarship for the brilliant but needy students. Things became quite easy from then. In my second year, I saw a very beautiful first year student from afar after night prep. She flounced into the open street, her flawless skin shimmering as white as the keys on the grand piano in the center of the schools music room. I asked about her and was told her name was Fiona. I fell in love with her at first sight. I could not approach and tell her then. In my third year, I bought a Nokia phone that I was using in school. On a Saturday morning after breakfast, I approached her and told her my name. We talked for a while and I asked her if she used a phone in school. She responded saying no and funnily I gave her mine during entertainment so I could reach her when we had gone to our dormitories. I borrowed a friend’s phone and activated MTN free night calls. We kept talking throughout the first term and in the second term, I proposed love to her. She started crying and ran off to her dormitory. She later asked that I meet her at a spot on the street called “lovers junction”, this was called that because students gathered there to chat with their boy and girlfriends after prep had ended.
She gave me a letter and ran off again.
I returned to the dormitory and laid down on my bed to read. She had accepted my proposal and further on told me about her family. She was from a village in the Western Region called OseiKojokrom, a border town of Ghana and the Ivory Coast. She stayed with her grandmother and only brother. They did petty farming and their source of meal was the farm land they cultivated. Even though she and I almost had the same background, I felt sad and pity for her.
Vacation came, we were sad as we said bye to each other. I had asked her to keep the phone so I could reach her. I was involved in all sorts of jobs during the vacation; from the selling of PK and handkerchief to carrying mortar at construction sites. I sent her money occasionally for her upkeep and that of her family. We returned to school and that term was the best term I had. It was my final term. I was about writing the West African Certificate examinations.
Time came for me to finally pack and say my final farewell to my colleagues and friends with no hopes of meeting them again because I knew there was no money to continue my studies. I left Kumasi for Yawkrom to be with Eno Ama. I cultivated cassava and plantains. I sold some of the proceeds for Fiona’s provisions and our house keeping. I told Eno Ama about Fiona; they both spoke on phone a couple of times. The results came and I had excelled, GNPC awarded me a scholarship to pursue my bachelors in Ireland. It was both happy and sad news as should I accept the scholarship, I would have to leave my mother and Fiona. After thinking through overnight, I finally decided to accept the award. I was scheduled to leave for the University of Dublin in two weeks. Eno and Fiona helped me prepare; right from winter jackets, a pair of pants, shito and gari.
Our guardians agreed to let us spend the few days left before I leave together. She moved to Yawkrom and stayed with Eno and I in our single room apartment. We spent time at the riverside, taking night walks and selling farm produce on the highway. A day before leaving the country, Eno and Fiona’s grandma advised me on how to live my life now that I would be alone in a new environment. I thanked them and told them I would not disappoint. Very early the next morning, Fiona and I left for Kumasi to board a bus heading to Accra. We got to circle at half past 3pm, the flight was at 6:10pm and so we could move around for about an hour or two since it was the first time for both of us in the state capital. We boarded a bus heading towards Madina and alighted at the mall. We spent a while there and later walked to the airport. It was almost time to check in, we were tearing as we said bye and giving each other our first kiss. I proceeded to check in after waving at her.
I always saw the Terminal 3 of the Kotoka International Airport In newspapers at the library and sometimes on the news. It was a beauty, sitting down and waiting to board the flight, I could feel I was outside of the country already. Then again, that was the first time I saw a plane close; aside me waving at them in Yawkrom.
Time came for me to board the plane, going through the tunnel and finally hopping ok British Airways. People around me looked comfortable; I was not because I did not know how it was going to be like. On my right was a Liberian girl with heavy makeup; I engaged her in a conversation starting by telling her it was my first time on a plane. It started moving and the pace and speed with which it took off from the ground nearly got me urinating in my pants. The turbulence was something else, the lady offered my her hand to hold till it was okay. I felt it was crushing already. I smiled and silently whispered to myself, “a village boy with city dreams”. A lady walked towards me and asked me what I would have, I responded telling her I didn’t have enough money on me and so I would pass. She responded saying it was free; I made my choice.
I smiled and enjoyed my meal, this was probably the best meal of my life not because of its taste but because of how it was garnished and the fact that it was free.
I got to Hearthrow airport at dawn; I wasn’t allowed outside the airport and boarded the connecting flight headed towards Dublin. In a couple of minutes, I was in Ireland. It was a beautiful place; beautiful sky (very blue and looked unpolluted) and nice taxis (the richest man I did not and I believe could not own one as a private vehicle). My pickup was arranged so I hopped into it and headed towards the university. I enjoyed the ride till I reached my hall of residence. I slept for a while and prepared to visit the embassy and later on the International students’ office. I was received nicely at embassy and given allowance for my upkeep and that to get myself a mobile phone and some clothes. I quickly got it, recharged and called Fiona and then later Eno. We spoke for a couple of minutes and then I ran out of airtime.
Classes begun the next month and it was fun. This was more of an interaction rather than teaching. I got a particle job at a bar and then it was a good paying one. I made sure I sent money to my mother and Fiona’s family every month for her school and upkeep to the point I had made for her a cocoa farm in her hometown. I graduated after three years studies in Dublin, I finished top of the graduating class and luckily got employed by a telecommunications company. After working for a while, I talked to my mother about marrying Fiona. She applauded my idea and things were put in place for Fiona to join me in Ireland.
It was a long process; lot of paper works involved, but finally she got the visa. She had to visit a lot of pastors and churches, paid huge sums of monies as offertory coupled with fasting and prayers as was a norm in our part of the world. She was scheduled to come to Ireland in two weeks and I couldn’t wait. Three days before her arrival, I cleaned up the entire house over and over again. I got groceries and got everything ready and prepared for her arrival. I picked Fiona up at the airport and on our way to the house, I couldn’t resist stealing glances at her; I just couldn’t get my eyes off her. I crushed on her just like I did when I saw her at first in high school some years back. She realised I was looking at her and smiled back. Her smile was very contagious, it could light up the world and made everything look so alive, even the stuffed bear in the backseat of the car. At this point it felt like I was alone with her in the world. Love actually is a beautiful feeling.
When we got to the house, she complimented me on how clean and kept the house was which was now going to be our home. She liked the arts on the wall and the painting of her in the bedroom. She was tired and asked if she could take a nap. I tapped and petted her till she slept off. I watched her sleep for a while, it was quite obvious nothing had changed with regards to my feelings for her over the years. She smiled in her sleep as I passed my fingers through her hair. I kissed her on the forehead and left for the kitchen to fix for her some meals. Unlike back at home in Ghana, I learnt and adopted a new culture where both a man and woman cook meals. I woke her up gently with a kiss on the lips which I believe was our second since we became lovers. She kept smiling and hardly made a full sentence since I picked her up. We went to the dining area to have meals. We talked about our friends back at home and her experience on the plane. She actually told me about how she nearly cried when there was turbulence and when the plane was about to take off. We laughed over it and how beautiful Dublin was.
After the meal, we went out to see some of my colleagues and friends. They finally got to see the Cinderella in my life and most importantly the reason why I didn’t want to get involved with other women over the years. She was a beauty they said. We then went to meet a high school colleague, all this while her hand in mine. She felt awkward in the beginning since it wasn’t morally right to public display affection even for married couples. We wrapped the day up with a pop corn and movies at home.
She slept before the movie ended. It was my favorite movie, “A walk to remember” and I promised to watch with her when she was over. I woke her up, held her close as we climbed the stairs to the bedroom. She laid down, I sat on the chair to take down some notes in my diary. I went to bed shortly afterwards. At around 3am the next day, I kissed her on the neck waking her up, we romanced and made love for the first time; I would spare you with the details. She went to bed afterwards and I came down to clean the hall and fix her some breakfast. I returned to the bedroom with the meals and she was still sleeping. She looked so beautiful for someone who was sleeping and it was my hope the kids would take after her looks someday. We had a cozy bath after she was done eating and made love again. We headed out to shop for clothes for her. She caught everyone’s attention wherever we went that I felt we were probably in a stage play of beauty and the beast.
After about a month, Fiona got a job at a restaurant. I was okay in the beginning but grew in secured over time because she met a lot of men daily and especially because of the change in her attitude. She started finding faults with everything I did which even includes my kind gestures to others. She nagged over how I chewed rice to how I sipped wine. After a while, she fell ill, during the same period, Eno my mother was ill too. There were times I answered calls from Ghana and others I just watched the phone ring. Fiona’s medication had taken a toll on my finance to a point I felt calls from Ghana were nuisance. I decided to go to Ghana after Fiona was recovering.
I got to Accra the following week in the evening, things really had not changed since I left some 7years ago. I stayed in a hotel overnight and left for Kumasi on the midday flight the following day. On getting to kumasi, I rented a car and drove to Yawkrom hoping to surprise Eno. Upon reaching, I saw my mothers house adorn with a black and red cloth signifying mourning. I entered and when my aunt saw me, she begun to cry out loud. My uncle welcomed me, offered me water and asked my about my journey as customs demanded in my tradition. He on his part told me how things were until my mother passed away two days ago. He further added that she needed emergency surgery and they called me a couple of times to get money for it but couldn’t reach me. I was mute for a second and suddenly burst out crying. I wept more because I couldn’t bear the pain. Losing the only family I had, a disappointment I was, not being able to take care of my mother especially because I was the only child. My uncle briefed me on the funeral arrangements and got someone to direct me to a hotel nearby.
I settled and called Fiona, she sounded very fine and told me she had been discharged and was home already. I told her about what had happened, she consoled me and extended her condolences.
I went to see Eno’s body at the morgue the following day. I couldn’t hold back my tears, I wished I had come earlier or could turn back the hand of time to at least answer her calls. I made arrangements to get a casket and other necessary provisions for the one week celebration. An adage in my tribe says, “Families love corpses more than the living being”, Eno’s was no different. My aunt and fathers family were well represented. A date was fixed and as a result I decided to extend my stay in Ghana and return after the burial. All this while, I spoke to Fiona about coming to Ghana for the funeral and burial but she refused claiming her job would not allow her. We talked it over several times but nothing positive came out of it.
There is a time to be born and a time to die, a time to sow and a time to reap, a time to make merry and a time to weep, as said by Ecclesiastes in the good books. time came for my mother, Eno, as I affectionately called her to be reunited with my father and her maker. The family head performed the necessary traditions after the pastors prayer and she was buried. Everything went on as planned and I informed my uncle I would return to Ireland in two days. We exchanged pleasantries and I left the following day for Accra.
I left Accra for Ireland as scheduled but upon my arrival in Dublin, my darling girlfriend didn’t pick me up. I think it was probably because she felt I knew my way back home. I got home but she wasn’t there and didn’t return until after two days. I asked about her whereabouts but she gave me cheeky responses. She didn’t talk to me when she arrived for over three days, she finally broke her silence but asked me for a breakup. I was dumbfounded and surprised, I asked her if I had offended her or done anything wrong and that I was ready and willing to apologize. She said there was nothing like that and it was about her having no feeling of love for me anymore. My pleas fell on deaf ears and there was nothing to be done. She wasn’t willing to even stay out of pity.
In a space of about a year, I had lost two of the most important people in my life. I finally had no option than to let her go.
One morning, a man drove to the house and picked her with her bags and left. Things became tough emotionally and I resulted to drinking. It took a timely intervention by a friend, Adwoa King, to stop me from committing suicide. She decided to stay till I was okay. She was jovial and always joked, she made me forget my worries and my addiction to alcohol. My life returned to normalcy.
After a while, I was informed the man Fiona left with had been arrested for drug trafficking and Fiona had been deported.
Things were working out fine. I kept cashing out large and got a promotion; I was scheduled to attend a meeting on behalf of the company I work for in Paris, France. After the meeting, a media firm requested an interview. I prepared and upon getting there, the interviewer was so beautiful I couldn’t get my eyes off her. It was love at first sight, I asked her out after the interview.
We had dinner a couple of times and we started visiting each other, spending long weekends and holidays together. After about eight months, I bought a ring and wanted to propose to her at the restaurant we met the first time. In the middle of dinner, I proposed marriage to her, she laughed it off and turned me down. She told me how naive I was to think about her being my wife. She further added I was too innocent and wasn’t what she wanted; she was actually using me to pass time. She left after creating the scene.
I was sad for a while but shook it off; just like always Adwoa King came to the rescue. After a while and careful consideration, I realised there was gold right in front of me but I always went out chasing after scraps. She joked about every advances I made towards her, from dinners to flowers right to when I finally proposed to marry her. She agreed and we are now married with three children. We’ve relocated to Ghana and started our company. Now I’m sharing with you my story.
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