Just so you know… whenever you regard me… if it’s my script I’m
living, or the one the producer dished me.
Lemme start:
Do I wanna live? Yes.
With who? You.
For how long? For ever.
How?
Oh! Here goes…
The only things I remember from my lecturers are the things
they said out of context. Dr. Willy Ugwuanyi once asserted that ‘Love is all
deals’. And deals are all selfish – cuz they’re all tainted with ‘selves’. There
are examples:
Osita Iheme is set to marry a Ghanaian. He’ll say love took
him there; but when a short man has carefully selected a tall, pretty lady to
marry, is love still blind? The dark-skinned pick the light-skinned; everyone
wants to pick someone who’s schooled… Is Love now a bully? Everyone seeks a
compliment – it’s themselves they have in mind, not always the ones they ‘claim’
to love.
It’s okay if it can’t be helped; but should anyone stop
there?
I won’t!
I still dare say ‘I Love’; even if it doesn’t appear to be
the agape kind that gives no damn about the aesthetic qualities of the love recipient.
My Love is just right for me, yet what I take stops there;
everything else… is for her.
When we
walk and I hold your hand, it’s not because I’m taking you to where I’m going. It’s
because I am your buddy; and where you’re going is where I’d rather go.
But if you’ll put your dreams on my feet, I’ll take you to
all the places I think are beautiful, enter them like it’s my first time and,
if you smile not, then I don’t like that place anymore – if it couldn’t make my
baby smile. It’s not fine joor. I hate it! We go elsewhere.
I’ll work hard to earn money for us; not because I’m content
with having you be nothing but a wife and mother, but because I wanna show you I’m
aware of your every need, and will gladly give the sweat of my brow… to meet
them.
But if you’ll put your dreams in my hands, I shall help you
unlock your own potentials, so you too can gain the fulfilment that comes with
industry.
I know a man who lay dying, and kept on apologising to his
wife for leaving. For him, life wasn’t about staying on to be served, but to
serve, and to be his wife’s rock every day. That man is my hero.
So if my chest aches and I fall ill, I’ll cooperate with the
doctors so I can get well… you know why. If it’s protracted and you have to
devote all your time to caring for me, please do not be angry, once I get back
up, I’ll usher you back to your throne again – back to being my queen.
When I appear quiet and pensive, know that I’m not pondering
negatives, but I’m working on your dreams, and how to make you cherish forever that
you chose me. If you’ll put your dreams on my head, I shall bring them to life
one after the other. All.
Some men may think… that there are so many ladies in this
world for this queer reason: that some are the ones to love, some the ones for
sex, some the ones to smile with, some the ones to play with, gist with, pray
with, work with…
That may well be! But all my ladies are in one woman…
When the
day breaks and I have to pray, it’s you I wanna pray with… Because I know that
suppleness of your countenance, and I know God will smile, and hear us faster.
The makers
of peak milk and milo are faceless to me. But they could as well be you,
because sipping tea with the sorta cake you bake… the office can be hell if it
pleases, I’ll still go with joy.
The frenzy with which life is lived in big cities is unfortunate.
The race to beat traffic and get to work on time parallels the same chaos home
at dusk.
When it’s
lunch time, I wanna hold your hand and stroll around these tall, pretty buildings,
and savour it all… I cherish how your hand slips into mine. But if you’re not
by my side, I’ll just be like everybody else who sees them not.
There are a number of possibilities for my evenings: If you’re
home, I will not rush. I’ll like the bliss of seeing you to wait… to linger… So
I’ll go spend my daily hour at the gym, building my biceps, so my arms around
you can be like pillows when I hug you.
But the gym can wait if I have to dash over to your office
and pick you. If we paid 180k for you to serve, we did everything else for it
to be Abuja!
And who says we can’t go to the cinema?!
It’s you I wanna share evening jokes with; cuz I love the
glint in your eyes when you laugh.
Dinner’s best eaten with you, even if it’s eba every night. Or
peppery stew.
Your lips are naked, but let’s pray, and thank the Lord.
Your body’s been calling, and anything’s enough – if to just
hold you, or to do more.
With you in my arms, let night fall, let NEPA strike, let
mosquitoes skitter, let…
Let morning bring us a new chapter. And I love you still.
This is my script. Life’s the producer.
Any day I’m found wanting, know that my producer’s doing rubbish. But I
won’t do his bidding for long. I’ll ultimately, and always… come back to my
script.
