His family never liked her, hers hated him just the same but they were in love.
“He is Edo and you are from Taraba, they have a very nasty culture” her mother warned “I am only a widow, if life becomes unbearable for you there is nothing I can do.”
In spite of that, nothing could deter her from her lover. She loved him, far beyond what she could see, his ethnicity didn’t matter to her neither did hers to him. Their minds were made up, intertwined: two souls become one. It was a once in a lifetime kinda love. It was worth the shot.
If the whole world could not see him for who he is, a man with a heart of gold, who loves so easily and selflessly; a man who thinks of her before anyone else, then it was their loss. She loved him as he did her and she thanked the stars for bringing him her way.
She wasn’t going to conceive immediately after the wedding. They had plans to travel the world together Zanzibar, Montego bay, Paris, Kenya, Ibiza etc, etc. Two years after their wedding however, they had only been to Paris on their paper anniversary. All was good though, they had all the time they need, the world’s their oyster.
And so when she returned home after a hectic day at work, she made dinner and went to bed, quite early because she was tired. Woke up the next morning and he wasn’t in bed, he never returned the night before. His phone rang but there was no response so she assumed he was in surgery.
She was in the shower when the door bell rang, she was running late to work. Osagie must have forgotten his keys at the hospital again, he does that more frequently this days.
At the door were men of the Nigerian police force. They introduced themselves, explained that there was a homicide at the corner of Targo avenue the day before and they needed her to come and identify Osagie’s body. He was mugged, his wallet and phones stolen.
As she stood by the door in a champagne coloured towel around her chest and a smaller version around her hair, many questions flooded her mind, “Did he suffer?”, “Did he die alone?”, “Was he scared?” She wished she was there, she blamed herself, she blamed the hospital for making him work late at nights.
Soon enough, the blame game started. His family said she murdered him, her mother said “I warned you.” She wanted to sit and mourn, she wanted to pay her last respect to the man she loved, she was sure there won’t be another like him but they won’t let her.
They called her murderer, witch, gold digger, coming from the low middle class and marrying crème de la crème of society. They wanted the documents for everything he had ever owned, his brothers, he wasn’t even buried yet.
She dragged herself through the funeral, she asked herself and his family why she will kill the man she loved ever so much; since the demise of her dad he brought her nothing but comfort. They could care less. All they wanted was for her to move out of the house, for them to have what was their brother’s, what is now theirs.
Uyiosa was Osagie’s best friend. He was a lawyer with the supreme court so they didn’t see much but when they did, they were like two lovers reuniting. He was too busy and couldn’t make it until the day of the funeral. She was relieved to see him, a friendly face amidst the harsh crowd. Her mum wasn’t there, she wasn’t at their wedding either, she had told her she will have no Edo man as a son-in-law. She wasn’t in her live, not even now when she needed her most.
Uyiosa said Osagie had a will. It shook everyone to the core of their spines. The will was basically one sentence. At least, one sentence summarised the whole will.
To my wife Basira, I will everything that is mine.
The paragraph beneath the sentence listed all his assets.
Just when she thought it was over, a new battle began. They accused her of sleeping with her husband’s best man. Said the will was fraudulent and so they sued Uyiosa and Basira to court. It was an ugly lawsuit, dragged on for too long. They had the connection and the affluence. Too many times she was tempted to give them everything and run, but for Uyiosa constantly reminding her that Osagie wouldn’t want her to suffer and live without money.
So, on a very cold November day, the case was won and she was free.
One week later, she tells Uyiosa she was skipping town, he asked to where?
“I do not know. Somewhere in the Caribbean where no one knows me. I want to leave and start over, mourn Osagie for a while and wipe my slate clean.”
“Don’t mourn too much, go live life, it’s what he would have wanted for you, to be happy.”
Days later she was in a plane to Cuba.
The cab driver was a man, late forties – early fifties, he wore a straw hat. The music was between blues and reggae, the taxi was a soft pink beetle with an open roof.
As the music played in the stereo he hummed and tapped the stirring.
Soon enough, they were unto the country side leading to her hotel. She shook her head to the music and tapped her feet. Her very permed hair flew uncontrollably into her face as the wind caressed her soft caramel skin.
She was in Cuba, the joy was contagious.
She started to sing along……then she screamed the lyrics out loud. Standing on her knees in the back seat facing the early morning sun rising, she threw her arms in the air and whispered “This is for you Osagie, I love you more than you can ever know.” She sang loudly with teary eyes. It was the last time she will cry.
Two weeks on an Island no one knew her. With no internet in Cuba, she savoured every moment walking barefoot on the sand in the beach and making splashing sounds, she danced Cuban-style salsa and drank Margaritas by the beach. She lived free and happy, far from the depressed widow she was a month ago.
And off she went to the Bahamas….


  1. Good update

  2. Ok

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