…A fiction story about heartbreak and forbidden relationship
It was at the end of 2014 a few months to my passing out from the compulsory National Youth Service Corp scheme, in Abuja. I’m about to have a long day so I wear my already fading white, my Khaki that I stopped to press (iron) after the fourth month, I line my brows put on my regular lip gloss, go through my news bulletin for CDS and I was off on my way (one cannot be bothered innit).
I never knew a day would come when standing on a white plastic chair, shouting on top my lungs and performing my civic duties would bring me such great fortune but this day was that day. I had just finished echoing “Yes Buhari cannot win the election” when this tall girl, light skinned with amazing dreads had walked in and the world was silent in that moment.
lets go back to 2006, I was in an all girls school and finding love, comfort and solace in a fellow girl was almost a norm. I was from a strict Christian background and loving another woman was an abomination, but that doesn’t stop the raging heart of an adolescent . It wasn’t long till I started to develop feelings for my House prefect, she was our prayer leader in church and she too had a girlfriend (see this world na wa) but how dare I Lola, love another girl. Did the scripture not tell us tales of the woes of Sodom and Gomorrah, whom God destroyed because of their immoral connection with same sex?
I was back to my consciousness, she had found herself a seat at the back and made herself comfortable, but my gaze didn’t go unnoticed.
In my 5 months of coordinating our news segment as a leader that was the shortest session I had, and someone else noticed that. The thing about being a leader is having power and control and to use it when needed. I was curious as to what her name was, so I threw another open question to the floor, “who has gotten their voters registration card here”? before anyone could respond I had my hand pointed to her direction. “hey, everyone we have a new person in the house, introduce yourself” and in the best voice I’ve heard in my teenage years she mumbled shyly, Bolanle. great, do you have an answer for us? and she smiled I just came in from the states, now sure I had gotten what I wanted I replied “oh hope you enjoyed your stay”…
Quickly, the session had come to an end, I had gotten her name and it wasn’t hard for me to navigate my way to her side when all the chattering started as the crowd dispersed. She said I saw the way you stared at me when I walked in, and I replied coyly, its hard for someone like you to go unnoticed, we exchanged numbers after laughing about our various interest and you could tell that the unrighteous feelings I had forced to submission almost a decade back had found a new way to surface.
But I wasn’t going to see Bolanle again, or so I thought.
…A few months went by and she surfaced again and this time she was here to stay, she had a car and looked way better than she did during our first encounter. This time she seemed ready to woo me to her side, what are the chances that this girl also liked me and I was curious.
It wasn’t long before I found out that she too had her interest in women and I had gotten her attention. It started with long walks, and a trip to the bank and lunch for two, and we looked forward to every Monday when our NYSC meetings would bring us together again.
I knew I was in love and somehow it felt right in every way and felt wrong at the same time. I started making excuses for the way I felt about the book of Genesis but God is not a man that he should lie?
I felt butterflies, I wasn’t meant to feel this way when she said Lola do you want to go to the movies with me? I fought with the righteousness in me but my flesh was weak when I blurted out those words yes I will.
It was on 13th of February things became intense this was either going to be the death of me or at least a part of me will die when all these ends. She knew her English words so well I felt I had to count my words around her but she didn’t mind, to her my crooked English and Yoruba accent couldn’t have been more beautiful. She was a poet and I a singer and together our art worlds rhymed and felt as beautiful as our hearts did in the presence of each other.
One beautiful morning I got a text, hey Lola I know I told you, I’ll stay and build a life with you in this country, but I cannot. Our love is perfect but not our world, I have to go back to the world I recognize and continue my life there.
I haven’t cried as much as I did that day and I don’t think I will anymore, I was living in our world forgetting everything is all smoke…It’s vanity. I didn’t find enough words to tell her how I felt, I was in my room starring at the pictures we had taken on our second date 14th February and after erasing a text that felt like a mini novel, I mustered the strength and typed “please stay”.
and like all things it did end…September of 2015 came by really fast, and all I got was a picture of her moving back to the states how was I to understand how I was feeling but somehow I knew my aged fathers prayers must have worked wonders.
He was in Surulere and I was in Porthacourt how could they have known that their daughter was going down a path that could kill them had they heard the news or an inclination of it. I am married now and have a beautiful daughter, Lola I tell myself daily Jesus loves you, without his love would you have been given this second chance?
As I walk to the kitchen to bring the jollof rice down from the gas cooker, I hear the blaring horns, he is back the man who God gave me to start the beginning of another love story. His name, John.