Her eyes sore and swollen, tears still rolled down like the
Niagara Falls. What did she do to deserve this treatment? The man she had grown
to love and cherish so much would not spare even a moment to think about her,
let alone call her. She was in pain and the misery was becoming unbearable by
the day. A stunning beauty, clad in her soft, tender and light skin. Her breasts
stood firm like the twin towers. Eyes, charming enough to get an eunuch yearning
for her. The behind? Typical African!! You dare not walk behind her. Yes, am
talking about that metachronal rhythm of movement that can get you tipping into
the gutters. She had them dangerous curves to make Kim Kardashian jealous.
She had on countless occasions told him all it takes to make
her heart come melting like Golden Tree chocolates left in the Ghanaian
scorching sun. She would even go ahead to show him all the secrets to her
pleasure and sensual arousal. That was for a man to discover, an exercise she
would watch on with such glee and joy as he fumbles and struggles to make her
moan, hopelessly going round in circles. Oh how women love to watch men, with
all their pride come tumbling down on their knees!. And as if to add salt to
injury, she would ask, So is that all you could do? And for a moment it will
appear to him as if time stood still, his face turning red and round like the
moon, praying that his moment of disgrace would pass with the speed of Shatta
Wale’s songs. But such was the love Ohemaa had for him that she wouldn’t put
him through all this mirthless horror. She would virtually do everything for
him pro bono.
And here she was, thinking Okoth would return at least an
equal measure of love. They had started it all well and good. But of late he
had changed. Not only would he starve her of all those sweet and heavenly
words, the romantic and kind gestures were also missing. A call a day would
have consoled her, at least keeping her tender feelings for him alive, in hope
of better days to come, but would he? And
when she complained, she would appear in his estimation, an insecure, nagging
woman fantasizing about and reveling in some sweet nonsense. Okoth had grown
cold.
It all started with
that birthday call he placed to Jinel in far away Malta. It had reignited some
old feelings, sparking up nostalgia. The fun moments, the fights, days he would
stand outside her apartment, his hands behind his back, ready to whip up the
flowers and see her smile coyly as she came with hugs and kisses had suddenly
resurfaced in his mind. He began to see, as if in a panoramic view all the good
moments they had spent together; the long walks, night parties, those hearty
and romantic conversations they had on phone while each rolled in bed all
night, come flashing before his very eyes. Old wounds were no difficult to
prick after all! Now in his mind, Jinel was all he wished for but never had.
Even the circumstances surrounding their escapades was enough to make it so
enticing. An affair that under all
purposes and intent was supposed to be forbidden. But then the forbidden is
always tempting! And they all fell to that temptation. An adorable and sexy
daughter of the far East, Jinel had all the graces and faults of the young. She
was fun to be with. Playful, jovial and witty. And Okoth, who himself was no
dimwit would make such a perfect pair. He had met Jinel in his LLM
International Law class in Copenhagen. They hardly agreed on any intellectual
subject; but what else lent credence to the universality of the law of
magnetism than their pair? Unlike poles indeed attract!
They spent long nights debating with such fervor and
intellectual rigor as if the bedroom was a moot court! And to crown the night, Jinel
would treat him to that Awilo Longomba’s hit song that bears the name of a
woman (Your guess is as good as mine) Watching her twist and wind her waist,
show off her dancing antics like the belly dancers of Istanbul was always a
beautiful sight to behold. And Okoth, like every man born of woman would melt,
his knees wobbly and kicking against each other as she approached him in all
her royal sexiness to serve him a hot lap dance. The memories, uncountable, kept
coming to him like the rushing mighty wind that met the disciples of Christ as
they tarried in the upper room on the day of Pentecost. They drank of each
other’s love. And to Okoth, Jinel was just that pinch of salt that made his
tequila take a smooth course down his throat. Alas, like every other fairy tale,their love story came to an end.
Graduation day beckoned and everyone was preparing to face the world of
work. Jinel chose to stay in Europe.
Okoth came down to Africa and got a job with the Center for International
Affairs and Diplomacy. On the eve of his departure, they stayed together all
night making all sorts of vows and promises not to forget each other and to
hold each dear in their hearts till thy kingdom come. A decade later, that simple
call had re-ignited those vows. One would reason that It all got to be water
under the bridge now, but the spell of love, no heart can exorcise itself
against!
He pauses for a moment. For how long can he continue
thinking about her? Wouldn’t it rather make sense to love and cherish the
pretty damsel he has in his hands now? Would he cause Ohemaa so much pain for
no wrong done? These and many other questions kept running through his now
feeble mind. With the speed of light, he quickly reaches for his smartphone.
Hello, Hello! Is this Ohemaa? His voice shaky and hasty, he asks. Sweerie
poraro, you know that even Romeo and Juliet aint got nothing on our kinda love
right? I so much miss you and I can’t sleep this night. Can I see you tomorrow
morning? Please come over lest, I miss you to death. But when a woman’s heart
is shut, no amount of words can open that door of love again. While she was
crying and wailing over him, he was busy loving another far away. She had put
up with this behavior for far too long and the time to move on seems now.
Ohemaa did come, but only to tell him finally that she was moving on.
‘’I need a man who would fight tooth and nail not to lose
me. I don’t need a relationship tag, I need love, I need attention. You could
not at least pretend you love me. Now I have found someone who is ready to show
the whole world that I am that special woman.’’ He stood in shock as he
listened to her. He never saw this coming. Armageddon had finally come. He had
lost a bird in hand while dreaming of another in a thick forest far away.
So he stood, trembled. The joints of his loins were loosed
and his knees smote one against another. Paralyzed with fear, conscience was
awaken as did King Belshazar when in his moment of feasting had seen the
mysterious hand and its writing on the wall; mene mene tekel, upharsin!
Days have passed, weeks are gone and now months, but Okoth
has since been retired to his armchair, thinking and wondering , to love or not
to love?
Ohemaa is crying, Okoth is reminiscing, Jinel is smiling,
and Katakyie is writing!
To be continued,……………………………………………………………………
