He reaches for
the sofa but is distracted by the bookshelf at the entrance to his living room.
The living room; what would have been their living room. She loved reading. She
still does. She insisted that they have an organized book shelf. An
intelligent, dynamic and an enthusiastic reader; a woman she had hoped carries
the uterus that will house his children as one writer comically puts it. She did the arrangement every time she visited.
She would also carry more books from the book store and arrange them in
organized catalogues like it’s done in modern state of art libraries. The woman
who once told him that the best surprise will be a good read preferably from an
African author like Chimamanda Ngozi wrapped with a single rose coming with the
package. Hahaha, that a gate away to Seychelles
will be awesome but a nice read is equally awesome. Yes. That girl. Simple
enough for him to fall in love with, naughty enough for him to keep desiring
her and ambitious enough to keep him focused. A self-motivated reader of diverse literary works. At a
glance, you could see the titles on the spine of most books. From classic
fiction, thrilling detectives, science fiction, history books to poetry. There
was a title for each genre. She fancied reading Christian literature too.
Actually, there was this particular one by John Piper that she had asked they
read together.
He reached
for that particular one…”Married to God”
they had gone several chapters. “After every fought -night, we always went out
for garden dates and studied a chapter and discussed the study questions. It
made us understand lots of issues and address expectations that were far-fetched.”
He had said
He opened
it. The bookmark was a custom made and personalized with her picture. He reread
the writings quickly. He knew the words inscribed in the bookmark by heart. He
had asked a designer to get him that book mark for the girl. The woman who had
robbed his heart; The woman with whom he had purposed to spend his life with as
long as the Lord will. The woman whom he had vowed to protect as long as he had
breath. The one he made it clear that any man who will try to rob him of her
heart will have to suffer every torment and pain jealousy could inflict.
He had chosen
his writings carefully,”Many daughters have done virtuously, but
thou excellest them all” Prov 31:29. This was a bookmark that came with the best-selling novel The Black
Street Sisters. It was a gift during the International Day of An African Child.
His choice for the book was on point. She had totally fallen in love with it.
He remembers the excitement she had after unwrapping the gift. Quickly reading
the blurb, she knew she had to start it that night.
He stares at the pretty face of the girl in that
book mark. She looks stunning in her afro. She did not wear any makeup. No eye
shadow nor pencil either. Just some pale lipstick that accentuated her
chocolate skin with such elegance and gave her a feminine poise good enough to
make a man bowl over. She was beautiful. Atleast in his world. A tear or two
lingered in his eyes. He wouldn’t let it fall. He thinks an African man should
not cry…that is unacceptable. But he had already broken that. The day he had proposed
and she said yes, he had cried. So he let it fall. Just two drops and he quickly
dried them with the palm of his hands. The next study of the book was something
he looked forward to. The blessing of Children… How many do you want and what
if none comes? He would have loved that engagement
with her. But she is gone...
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