The last thing I heard was the slamming of the door.
I have made up my mind to send him the divorce signature when I reached Lagos and he would settle with my lawyer. This was really the end. I have really had enough and my lungs were burning from frustration and exhaustion.
“Don’t do this… don’t do that” It wasn’t like this at first.
I sat in one of those train compartments that was crowded with traders leaving the arid north to search for greener pastures somewhere in the blissful marsh lands of the west. The train was heavily crowded; some passengers were crouching low, some sitting, while others were hanging on to rails of the ceiling for balance. The air was thick and the stench of sweat lingered in every corner of the space we occupied. I sat close to the window and stared into the distance promising myself never to look back again. How I wound up in this smelly train didn’t register; what was humming horror to my ears was that a blooming marriage of three years just came to a halt.
A devastating halt.
I loved my husband; I certainly did but what happens when the man you loved so much becomes so keen on confining you to the four walls of the house you share. We go out for dinner sometimes, watch movies on our comfy couch, cuddle and say loving words to one another but that was just it. That was it.
“I don’t want you to get your nails dirty” he would say sometimes but I want my nails dirty so I could wash them clean again. I love digging the soil, I love planting seeds, I love dancing wildly and singing atop my voice because I knew he was always there behind me, secretly smiling, relishing and savoring my presence.
“Don’t go out after seven thirty” he would say sometimes but I loved the evening lights and the sweet silence that enveloped us in the darkness when we hold hands, walking along the long roads of Kaduna.
I do not blame myself for wanting to explore the world, I want to enjoy my youth and travel the globe but he thinks it’s all a waste of time. He had begged me to stay but I wouldn’t. Never would anyone imprison me again.
Yes, our love was beautiful, and it sprung from our favorite Shakespeare book; Romeo and Juliet.
He had overheard me quote Juliet and immediately, he responded with that Romeo line and we fell in love. A beautiful romance that I thought would last forever. I remembered going to the movies, to the circus, to the shopping mall hand in hand with the man I loved so much. I thought we would last forever and I had bought this little book to write my lovely memories so I could narrate to my future children.
How unfortunate.
My phone rang and I struggled to reach for it in the depths of my pocket and at last, when I pressed it to my ears, a cold voice stung me in the heart and tears leaked my eyes.
“Mrs. Suleman, your husband has been in a fatal accident. We lost him”
The phone fell. My heart exploded in painful uncountable pieces.
–END–
