PRACTICE - FOUR

On Sunday I left Benin. The hotel and transport expenses were beginning to tell on me. I faced my work as best as I could, but I was distracted like hell. I kept thinking about how this was going to play out. I prayed a lot. After venting her disappointment at the entire arrangement, my immediate younger sister became supportive. What are siblings for if not to look out for one another! When we were in the university she often used to guess who, amongst a couple of girls at given moments, my girlfriend was. Whenever her guess was close to the truth, I got startled, and changed. I didn’t want her to see me like that… to see me have soft spots for any girl… so I pushed the girl in question away. I didn’t pick her calls, didn’t reply her texts… on and on… until she faded away. Since we left school my sister hadn’t bothered to check up on my affiliations with girls. She eventually got married and moved out of the house. Now I was thoroughly alone; my brothers were as far as anything. Therefore, my intention to marry was new to everybody. Nobody had ever seen the girl, or had heard there was a girl in the first place. So, my sister, Karen, out of magnanimity, talked to me from time to time about it. She was always careful when she did though… because she knew she irritated me every time she brought the fact that I met Laide on facebook up… as if facebook was hell, or a brothel.

                From thinking deeply in the office, I often ended up writing lengthy letters intended for Laide’s Dad. I never posted them. I spoke with all honesty and humanity… pleading that he trusts me with his daughter for a week; promising never to touch her. Never. Swearing. I poured out my heart on the plane sheets… and then I put them away. Sometimes I felt desperation was the wrong approach… that I shouldn’t go on presenting myself as a man who only wanted to take a woman; there was a lot in me for a woman to dream to have too… for a girl’s parents to dream to have in a son-in-law…so I assumed a somewhat indifferent stance.  At other times, I saw there was no way I’d make the final cut if I didn’t plead hard, so I sunk down to my knees again.

Early in September, I had an unusually protracted morning prayer one Tuesday. Whenever I prayed to God about important ventures I wanted so bad, I avoided ruining my chances by sinning. Ordinarily, I would have called in sick at work, but I didn’t. That would be lying. I simply told the Admin Officer that something came up – family matter – I couldn’t make it to work. I dressed as though for work, but I was going to Benin. Laide didn’t know about this, and I didn’t intend to tell her. I needed to speak to her father – heart to heart – one man to another.

                In order to be certain of meeting him during office hours I had to fly. Such urgency meant more money. But the amount of sacrifice spent in the pursuit of a worthwhile venture always bestows the feeling that success would be achieved. So I went.

                From the airport to Ring Road, left… when I got to the entrance of the premises, I stilled myself and took a deep breath. Then I proceeded with bold steps. I inquired at the reception. Government offices… lousy, obsolete places! I took the directions and came to the door of a room from within which lively laughter emanated. I knew one of the people inside must be him. Meant he was in a good mood.

I knocked.

                In my work back in Abuja, when I knocked on government doors I didn’t wait for any invitation. Government offices are official premises, knocking is even a mere formality. But when I knocked on the door in Benin, I waited. I heard a voice summon me. Still, I waited. My mission wasn’t official, so I had to move apologetically, somewhat.

I opened the door.