I sat next to him, it felt right. I felt his loving embrace, I knew I loved him very much, and I didn’t have to doubt he loved me more. Cuddled together after our heavy afternoon lunch, he slept, I slept. We are both deep sleepers, and we would normally poke fun at one another saying, after we get married, if ever a fire alarm was to ever go off we would never hear it, laughing as we teased one another, always in agreement how it meant we would go to heaven together at the same time.
Silly notions, silly notions indeed!!
I woke up, in his loving embrace, happy, content, just glad to be there. It felt as if it was still day, but it was morning, in the early hours of the morning to be more precise. And then he said to me, I have noticed that the few times you’ve stopped over for lunch, you seem to fall into a deep sort of sleep, where you seem to be doing an awful lot of screaming and fighting; but it always seems you are the victor. I was puzzled, especially since he’s supposed to be a deep sleeper. I wondered to myself, these fights must be strange and must be very loud indeed. I went home and prayed, and asked the Lord for help, for revelation, for direction. He told me that there was a mark, an insertion of a kind; in a form of a tube on the body of the man that I loved that seem to emanate a lot of attacks whenever I travel to the land of the nod only during the times I stopped by. And so I went back and asked him if he had a mark or an insertion on the right lower part of his shoulder. He told me that he happened upon it one day, and had tried to remove it through a very costly operation, which he nearly died from, and that the insertion had refused to move.
I went back and prayed again and asked the Lord why the insertion had refused to move, and why the process of removal nearly took his life. I was told that it was because he is married to six women, and none of them will let him go. And so I went back to his, knocked on his door, but it appeared that his apartment that was once full of light was now covered in darkness. I could hear him shout out that he was coming, but it looked like there were no signs of life in the place. But he came out, and opened the door. I could see that glint in his eyes that always seem to appear whenever I came knocking. I knew how much he loved me, and loved him so much more than I told myself. He opened his door, and we exchanged our wonderful pleasantries, I told him I had a dream and wanted to ask him a question. He told me he also had a dream, and immediately blurted his out, saying he saw a small river that grew into an ocean that made it impossible for our two lands to meet. I sighed, and asked him, if he was married. He told me that it was the normal traditions of his people back in Africa to marry wives on behalf of their sons, to help in the progress of the family, but as far as he was concerned he had no dealings with them, and wants nothing to do with them. I couldn’t understand this. He was the last son of seven brothers and sisters, of which there were three grown men. He was barely 26 and six women already!! On hearing this, I immediately sprung up from the stool I sat on, and began to make my way to the door. He tried reaching for me, but knew he could no longer get me to stay. I walked and kept walking and did not look back again.
I had no questions of his love for God. Indeed he did, and does. But what of his people, what kind of people were they? His affiliations with the six women were indeed in his past and I was his present, but what kind of home would mine have been? How could his people be my people when these people have plunged such a young man into a life of strife and deceit? Love or no Love, His God may be my God, but how can his people be my people. There are some battles I am prepared to stand and fight, but there are some I have no business being involved in.
A deep sigh,
You’re probably thinking, Life of a stranger you’ve come again with your FANTASTIC stories, but let’s think about this, ponder upon, muse over it, for a moment, just a moment :). As controversial as it may be, DOES LOVE ACTUALLY CONQUER ALL? Is there any such thing as love in Tokyo, in Europe, in Kafanchan 🙂 ? In my story, we see a young man whose family has married for him 6 wives back home in Africa, and he’s in love with one, the one the family has yet to see / agree upon. Armed with this knowledge, if say for the sake of this post you were in such a predicament, will you ever agree to such an arrangement where as far as you’re concerned, as long as he loves only me, and is not interested in the 6, then that’s all that matters?
So if the story comes over as too good to be true, will you knowingly enter into an agreement with foreknowledge that his/her family will NEVER EVER ACCEPT YOU? And if say they do and would love you to be the 7th :), are you prepared to abide to their way of life?
I am back blogging, welcome back to me 🙂
Happy Friday Everyone