MY SHAME, MY REGRET

                                     
                                 

It was a few days to my birthday. I was in an expectant mood. Thinking, planning, giggling, day dreaming, fantasizing... you get the picture. I was billed to pick up a gown at a boutique just down the street.

I was through with the planning, arranging and have already sent out bulk SMS to my close friends and acquaintances inviting them over to celebrate my birthday in grand style. I was really excited and whatnot.

I hadn’t celebrated my birthday each year for a long while; I just wanted to make this one special with all the excitement, hype and buzz surrounding my recent graduation from UNILAG a couple months ago.

The truth though is that I have found myself recently single and there is this rich guy in my Estate whose attention I was planning on catching.

He’s that quiet unassuming guy, reeking of wealth and opulence from the toes of his feet to the hairs of his head. He’s got quite a swag too; his cologne, radiating sheer masculinity, his broad expanse of chest, his dress sense and knowing exactly how to match the colors and contours, and then... that wicked grin or wry smile that oozes confidence and male chauvinism.

He’s handsome and he knew how to attract the attention of the ladies. I was piqued. I looked for a way to catch his real attention aside from his customary “good morning” “how are you doing?” and then he will just waka pass. (If you know what I mean...).

My birthday presented the perfect opportunity to get his attention and pique it steadily with a hope I could get him to ask me out.

So here I was on the way to the boutique with my best friend and roommate during my UNILAG days, fantasizing, day dreaming, chattering non-stop, and giggling about this new guy and what dress to pick.

I wasn’t looking, I was facing my best friend Gracie squarely, chattering, throwing my head back and laughing excitedly... you know that sort of innocent (Isn’t it) girly laugh and we were about to walk through the glass boutique doors, when I bumped into him squarely.

He was obviously on a call because his phone was sent flying, while my purse flew out of my open handbag in the same direction as the phone.  He stood, rooted, staring at me while I rained abuses, cussing, waving frantically as Gracie recovered both items for us. I took my purse from Gracie, almost snatching it and got all the more riled when I saw the grin gingerly spreading across his face.

“Wow! What a Temper for a beauty!” was all he could counter.

I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or paying me a compliment, but I suddenly felt embarrassed.

I strode past him muttering something about watching where you are going next time while feeling somewhat embarrassed at my outburst and his quiet demeanor in the entire furor.

I heard Gracie apologize and say something about me not being like this and all the nice sugar-coated crap (forgive my language) before stroding after me hurriedly.

His name was Christopher.

****************************

The Party was in full swing when he sauntered in; alone and dashingly handsome.

I did my best to impress him, wearing a flowing flannel red gown and wiggling my waist so seductively while I danced. I was doing my very best pretending to ignore him and resisting all temptation to see if he was checking me out as I danced.

I was being over dramatic and I knew it. But I was past caring. Gracie understood. She signaled to me that he’s watching and I got all the more excited.

His name was Richard and he was the same rich dude I spoke of earlier.

As expected, he asked my out and I pretended to check my itinerary before replying him. In reality, my head guts, and entire being was screaming YES! YES! WHERE?! YES! WHEN?! OFCOURSE I WOULD LOVE TO!!! You didn’t think I put on all that show for nothing?! Did you? Oh! If only a man knows what’s going on in a woman’s mind.

Anyway, Richard and I officially became a pair. My mum was disapproving. Gracie too. I didn’t care. He was my choice and I got my man.

Richard knew exactly what to say, and how to treat a woman. He knew the buttons to push and which knob to turn. He was that good. Yeah I mean THAT GOOD! He was every woman’s dream man. He appears hardworking, industrious, confident and smart. I am a hopeless romantic, and I was like butter in his hands.

He told me he was an importer. He constantly shuttles between Abuja and Lagos and out of the country. Aside from his Lagos home, I knew he also had a home somewhere in Maitama district but I have never visited the Nation’s capital talk more of locating his home there. He drives a Lexus whenever he’s in Town, and we are either Shopping, eating/dining out, or just twisting on the sheets in a sweaty-frenzied love-making.

I’d never met any of his relations or family. Neither have he introduced me to his friends except for a couple of guys that strides in occasionally when he’s in town. He seems like a loner but his phone is always ringing whenever we are together. I always take it; this was business calls and perhaps one or two of close family. I never bordered to suspect him of cheating. Even when I have my fears, he always quelled it with soothing words, cajoling beautiful sweet nothings that just swell my head with pride.  I couldn’t stay mad at him. To me; he’s my dreams come true and I can almost count the number of kids we are going to have and the type of fanfare wedding we will organize. Yet, as blind as I was, there was always this sinking feeling in my guts that something just isn’t right but I choose to ignore it.

Gracie was my direct opposite. She has this motherly disposition about her and is always the gently unassuming one.  She is light-skinned, pretty and just a little over 5 Ft 2Inches. I am dark, beautiful and 5Ft 8”. Fate brought us together as roommates and we stayed friends throughout our school days, and then continued right after school. She was my best friend and confidante yet we both respected each other’s privacy.

While I was always ready to confide in her and chatter about my daily escapades. She will tell me hers at her own good time. I don’t really pressure her, but now I wish I had.

************************

It was a cold evening, and shortly after I boarded a public bus home from work. I work as a secretary to a small Oil Firm in Satellite Town Lagos. The sky opened and a torrent of downpour was drumming steadily on the roof and side of the bus. I adjusted and readjusted my seating to prevent the steady little droplets streaming into the rickety bus from drenching my skirt; all the while thinking of how to make it to the nearest shade when I reached my bus stop. Without getting thoroughly soaked like a wet Rat caught at the wrong moment.

I alighted at my bus stop, did a rapid scan of my area for the nearest shade before proceeding to leap over puddles of accumulated water. Suddenly an “Angel” appeared with an Umbrella wide enough to accommodate us two.

It was a man, and I was grateful when he walked me to the nearest shade to wait for the rain to subside.

I looked up to the smiling face to say thank you. Words failed me. I wished the grounds will open and swallow me. If I were light-skinned like Gracie, I am sure my cheeks would instantly glow; a flaming red (if not green from the cold).

I was staring. Mouth agape; at the man I had rained abuses on, a few weeks back.

 “Oh! It’s you!” I managed to mutter.

He had that sheepish grin again, making it seem like he was out to embarrass me again.

We talked as we waited for the rain to stop. His name was Christopher; he was a graduate still looking for a job. He was really nice and gentle and I find myself liking him. He spoke with a lazy drawl that I find rather fascinating. He requested my contact and not wanting to appear rude. I gave him.

We became friends. He did visit so often that I worried he might cross path with Richard, and I could lose the man I love. But Richard moved out to a safer distance in another vicinity shortly after I met Chris and I became a little more comfortable.

I don’t know why I like him. Maybe because both my mum and Gracie approved of him unlike Richard.

But I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Gradually, I started telling him off. He never came with money. It’s not like he have any, as he is always job-hunting and attending numerous interviews. He has never taken me out on a date. I have only visited him a few times, though he calls and we talk almost every day.

Then one fateful Saturday morning, I was in dire need of cash. I had called Richard earlier the previous day and he has transferred some Fifty Thousand into my Account from Abuja. I needed a little cash to just about see me through the weekend so that by Monday, I would make a withdrawal as my ATM Card expired a couple days ago.

Chris walked in, we chatted a while and I offered him some food for which he declined. I wanted to ask him for some money with hope that for once, he could at least spare some Five Thousand Naira. But Chris was shrewd and was always careful not to be indebted to anyone. Sure enough, he didn’t have and I tried hard to mask my annoyance. It threatened to spill over when he casually began to tell me about his job hunting progress.

I wasn’t listening. Infact, I felt like gob-smacking him. When he couldn’t stop, I interrupted him rudely and point blank that I’m not in the mood for his stories and he should carry it elsewhere. Gracie was shocked. She tried to reprimand me. The more she tried, the more livid I got. I practically threw Chris out that day. Gracie understood, but she tried to wade in which made me more livid with rage.

A week later, Chris was back. He had called during the week to apologize for being insensitive to my mood, but I was having none of it. I wanted to be rid of him and I told my friend Gracie to stop sticking up for him otherwise, she can go and have him.

I was doing my laundry that Saturday when he sauntered in again.

“Good morning” It was again that lazy drawl that I still find intriguing.

 I didn’t answer.

I was chatting animatedly with Gracie on what we both will wear that Saturday for a mutual friend’s birthday party. He was the last person I expected. And somehow; maybe it got to do with my vanity or feel good factor, I secretly hoped he will come.

“I’m sorry....” he began.

I didn’t wait for him to continue or to finish. I knew what I will do... what I had to do.

I was fast. He wasn’t expecting it. Gracie was shocked and stood up almost at the same time. Indignant. Furious.  I knew I have over-did it. I didn’t care. I stood there, an empty bucket in hand. Staring at him. Daring him to do his worst.

He slipped his hand in his back pocket, brought out a handkerchief and wiped his face. He was carrying a large brown envelope. It was drenched too, with my dirty laundry water.

And for the first time, I witnessed Gracie truly mad in anger. Indignant even. Livid with rage. Words shot out angrily from her mouth. Almost as if they were in competition to drown each other. I heard my name from her mouth atleast 3times, but I have already activated my selective hearing and blanked out the rest of her words.

Chris was already half-way out of the compound. In the twinkle of an eye, Gracie raced after him. I sighed. A dejected sigh and wished I hadn’t done it. Gracie didn’t come back that day. I didn’t go to the birthday party either. I silently cursed Chris for spoiling my day. Luckily, Richard called and I felt much better to hear his soothing voice. I wondered if he will despise me if he knew what I just did. I tried to steady my voice, and luckily, he didn’t detect how upset I was.

*************************************

My relationship with Richard blossomed as the months rolled by. I felt proud one afternoon he told me he’s travelling to Switzerland. He told me we will get married as soon as he’s back and he will introduce me to his family.

Gracie was happy for me when I told her a few months after the incident with Chris.

 However oddly, I noticed Gracie was glowing. She was radiating beauty and obviously, I knew instantly someone was taking good care of her. I asked. She admitted there is someone and she will introduce us later at her own leisure. I didn’t argue. I let it slide. Gracie has always been like that, but whoever the guy was, he was obviously doing a very good job. But I let it slide.

One fateful day, a former school mate, Stella extended an invitation for her sister’s wedding in Abuja to Gracie and I. We resolved to attend together, since Richard isn’t in Town and Gracie’s boyfriend was too busy to join us. I hadn’t heard from Richard a little over a week, and his Swiss line kept entering voicemail for the 3^rd time running. It’s been 3 full weeks since he left for Switzerland to buy more items/products meant for import.

I saw this wedding invitation as a good onus to locate Richard’s apartment in Maitama. He told me he will be back in Nigeria within 2weeks. If he’s not already in Nigeria, I might be privileged to be in Abuja once he enters Town. I planned to stay in Abuja 2weeks more after the wedding.

The wedding was held with a Fanfare. You could almost see our friend- Stella’s sister was being married off to a wealthy family. The Decorations was expensive and made a screaming statement. The sight of the cake made me salivate. (I’m a sucker for chocolates). A black and white sculpted couple stood gingerly on the wedding cake.

I was sitting with Gracie as we admired the decorations, the sculptured tapestry adorned with flowers.

The many colorful people from different tribes that graced the wedding. The Children chattering excitedly as we await the arrival of the couple at the reception venue. Then I heard the name; Richard Attah. Normally I wouldn’t be privy to idle gossip. But I heard the name over and over again.

The girls were sitting directly in front of us; hence it was easy for their conversation to drift to Gracie and I. It turned out that this Richard Attah was not able to attend his younger brother’s wedding as he was arrested trafficking drugs in another country. His son was the little groom of the wedding.

I turned to the wedding procession to find a replica of MY Richard smiling with that downward turn of his chin like that of his father. No! This couldn’t be happening. I had to be sure. I asked the girls if they knew this Richard well. They do. He’s family. I showed them a few pictures of him from my phone. Sure enough, they identified him. Gracie was staring at me. Unmoving, almost a sitting statue.

I couldn’t stand. I feared to stand because I could collapse if I do. My Richard was a married man with 3 Kids. As if that wasn’t enough. He doubles up as a drug trafficker to Switzerland where he was apprehended. Gracie held my hands. I felt cold. This couldn’t be happening to me. I don’t deserve this.

“Let’s get out of here” Gracie said even though the wedding procession has just entered and the MC was about to start calling the members of High table.

I got up shakily; my legs felt wobbly and at the same time felt like something made of lead. Gracie supported me as we made our way out of the Auditorium. I looked over my shoulder to find the two girls staring at us with something akin to curiosity and confusion glinting in their eyes.

We said little to each other as we made it back to our hotel room. Gracie was there for me; Scared that if she left me alone for one second, I might do something rash to myself.

We got back to Lagos and I felt this was the lowest I will ever get. I wasn’t prepared for the bout of shocker about to follow. 2 months after the incident in Abuja, Gracie came to my house flashing an expensive looking engagement ring and Tokunbo Honda Accord. You know the type we commonly referred to as “End of discussion”.

I was happy for her, but she doesn’t seem too happy about it. She was brooding. I take it to mean she was too shocked the sudden and expensive proposal. I called for a celebration but she really wasn’t in the mood.

I was in a bullish mood as my friend just got engaged and I think that calls for a celebration.

I ran inside to fetch my mum and have her talk some sense into Gracie but was shocked to hear her say sternly:

“Leave me out of this!”

Instantly, my sixth sense, ...you may call it guts, instincts, whatever you will; kicked into gear. I knew something was wrong but I just can’t tell what was.

“Please sit down Maggie; I have something to tell you”. It was Gracie. She wore a somber look. I was anxious for my friend, so I obeyed her.

“Remember that day you threw dirty laundry water on Christopher?” Gracie asked

Ofcourse I did. One of my lowest low, so I nodded.

“What about it?” I queried. I knew she was about to hit me hard. I decided She’s my best friend and what could be worse she will do to me?

To cut a long story short. Christopher got his employment letter from an Oil company somewhere in Portharcout. He came over to jubilate with me as the pay and attendant benefits was mouth watering.

I ended up splashing him with bath water and drenching the brown envelope containing the good news.

Gracie took him home that day, dried his clothes at her house and learnt the good news. Chris has pleaded with her not to tell me. They kick started a friendship that blossomed into a relationship.

Now it was Chris, MY Chris that has proposed to MY Gracie. My Mum knew all along. Gracie confided in her and she encouraged her.

I wanted to scream. I wanted the walls of the inner sanctum to rip in two. I wanted the sky to thunder with Thunder and Light with Lightening. I wanted the Sun to withdraw, and the Moon to refuse coming out. But nothing happened. Everyone is going about their business. The Radio in the living room continues it music of highlife. A neighbor continued the steady pounding of the Pestle on the Mortar.

I wondered how the world could continue like this; oblivious of the pain of others. I wanted to forget. I wanted to blank out. I am happy for Gracie... I really am, but I can’t bear to watch my friend Gracie walk down the Altar with MY Chris. Watch her belly swell with Child. Drive her Honda Accord when visiting me. No! I have to defriend her. It’s much too painful.

My name is Margaret Nkeonye. I’m from Delta State, and this is my story.  I wrote this with hope that someone could pick a lesson from my failure. I had acted like a Lunatic while going for all that glitters. I have learnt my lesson and if fate should smile on me again, I wouldn’t make the mistake twice. Adios.

STORY BY NGOZI QUEEN GEORGE