Yesterday I met a ravishingly beautiful lady who Love found under the over populated metal gazebo known as the Maryland bus stop in Lagos.

It was raining.

And Love was driving.

From the myriad of wet faces that stared out into the car filled and rain beaten street, Love picked her out and offered her a ride.

She was running late for a job interview, and it was two o'clock in the afternoon.

So she threw caution to the wind and accepted the lift.

Love dropped her in front of the six-floor building of a bank on Allen Avenue in Ikeja where the interview was to take place.

And after the hour and a half of hell, which the interview was, Love was waiting for her.

Love was parked in one of the parking spaces in front of the bank.

She was surprised that Love had been waiting for her and even stupefied when love asked...

"How did the interview go?"

"Horrible."

"Maybe the job is not meant for you?"

"I should have been better prepared. I am madder at myself than the man who was so mean to me."

"Do you want to feel better?"

"A job is what I want."

"How about I give you a job."

"As what?"

"A co-traveller."

"Co-traveller?"

"Yes on a tour of Europe."

She went silent as she stared at Love.

Love had a well-cut gathering of grey hair and was cleanly shaven. A slender well-toned body hid inside the black jeans and white polo shirt that hung so beautifully In front of her.

Seriousness and good intentions oozed out of the smiling iridescent eyes of Love. She could feel the good intentions rush towards her like a fast running tsunami. She wanted to flee but she couldn't, so it swarmed over her. And when she surfaced for air, all she could whisper was...

"I don't have a passport."

"Do you want to be my co-traveller?"

There was no fear neither was there confusion. Just a feeling that said to her in the innermost vaults of her being that right at that moment she was right where she was meant to be, and at that place, her destiny was unfolding.

So she nodded.

It was imperceptible.

Love reached out for her hand and led her back to the car.

And in a week.

She had become a co-traveller.

It was just the beginning.

The world became her oyster.

As she traversed country after country with Love.

She watched Love give to others and volunteer his time, money and knowledge to others without asking for anything in return.

No expectation.

It was a marvel to behold Love in action.

And Love enraptured her through the works of his hands.

It was a time of wonder and laughter. Joy like she never knew existed. Peace like she had never felt before.

So much so that she flourished outwardly and bloomed inwardly.

Yet Love never asked for anything else from her but her company and her words and her silence and her laughter.

Love puzzled her and intrigued her.

Because Love would always get a different room for her.

Love would hug her and hold hands with her.

Love would clean the edge of her lips when a speck appeared and massaged her feet after their impossibly long walks.

And would always ask her in Love's smooth baritone that rushed over her ear drums like a calm evening breeze...

"Is there anything that you need?"

She had grown tired of telling Love what else she needed since Love had met all her needs save one...

And apart from that one need unmet, were those needs met that spanned from completing her parent's house in Satellite Town right to paying for her sibling's school fees and all that existed in between.

Love wanted her to do a master's in finance. Love wanted her to learn new languages. Love wanted her to learn to swim. Love wanted so many things for her.

But all she wanted from Love was simple.

The one need Love had not yet fulfilled.

Was to make sweet love to Love.

To unfurl and accept the wholeness of l
Love into her innermost self.

To feel Love pulsate in the nesting cavern at her molten core.

To be one with Love.

But Love would only smile and avert the luscious lips which she craved so much to graze hers anytime she attempted to kiss them.

She had fallen completely and hopelessly in love with Love.

Love was an enigma.

Love barely opened the curtains behind which Love was hiding the story of love.

She could see that Love was nothing less than fifty. She could see that Love was very cultured and educated since the five languages and the sheer breadth of topics that flew off the tongue of love paid credence to it. She could see that Love was a Christian because of the crucifix that hung on the neck of Love. She could see only what Love chose to show.

There was no mention of a family. There were no calls that came in on the passworded phone, only calls which were made out. There were no names called when Love spoke to others seen and unseen, it was always a - Dear - Sir - Ma'am - and other terms of address.

She googled and searched but came up with nothing.

It was as though Love didn't exist.

And when she asked Love...

"I know your name and your age, but I don't know you. Tell me. Who are you? Why did you choose me for this?"

Love would smile in that way that always soothed her before the words will flow...

"When the time is right, you will know me, for now, live fully in the moment."

And she waited for that moment of full revelation that love had promised.

And it arrived one clear morning in April when a knock on the door of her condominium in Ikoyi which Love had bought for her brought forth a letter from Love.

She read it.

And the last words of the letter read...

"... the doctors gave me three years before this cancer kills me. And in agreement with my wife and three children, I decided to pick one person and show true love to. A complete stranger. It was you. I don't know why I picked you but when I looked out of my car that day and saw you amongst that crowd something drew me to you. I want to believe it was God. I am glad it was you I chose. For you are so much deserving of love. I hope you see the world as it should be seen and that you will pay it forward. And I thank you so much for your time and your willingness to trust and share the best part of you with a stranger. Please live your life to the fullest and squeeze as much joy out of every day as you can because nothing is guaranteed and the worst of things happens to the best of people. Make your dreams come true by living it as though it has. Take control of your happiness and forgive yourself and others always. This is the last you are hearing from me, my dear. You will receive a transfer of money today. It is more than you will need to maintain the life you now have but it is enough to change the lives of others you come across. I go now to spend the last months of my life with my family who I love so much and I ask of you to not mourn me for my death is not about sadness for through it I have found the true meaning of being alive. It is to love sacrificially and unconditionally. To love the gift of life and share it in goodwill with others. I will not die. I am simply being promoted to a higher consciousness. Be happy always. Please do not search for me, let me go. It will be tough at the onset, but every pain subsides. Take control of your reactions each passing day, love without fear and regrets for life and it joys and pains is a school. Learn the lessons pride or shame and always remember I love you even from the hereafter..... Your, Co-traveller."

And her life stopped for months after that.

She mourned Love.

And she searched for Love.

Because she is human.

But she did not find Love.

Yet she lived each day even as Love had taught her to.

Even as she prayed and believed for a miracle.

Until one day she received another note via courier.

It was from the wife of Love.

And it read...

"... It is with deep sadness but with hearts filled with the enlightenment of love that we invite you to the funeral service of..."

She fell into a bottomless pit of sorrow. So thick was the sorrow that all she could see was darkness. A black darkness. A deep black impenetrable darkness that could only be penetrated by the light of love. The love of Love. Which pierced it like a bolt of lightning with the words.

"Remember what I told you. Grieving so deeply is for people who have no hope. For the ones who do not know that love is the map of the journey through existence. I do not die, my dear, I live. Indestructible. Just like love."

And those words saved her from falling deeper to that depth from which one can never rise out of.

The words of Love gave her the strength to attend the funeral.

And it was at the funeral and the months that followed during which she became close to the family of Love that she found out who Love truly was.

And she fell even more in love with Love in death than she had in life.

Today she lives her life as Love had shown her to.

As a true disciple of love.

Touching and changing lives.

As a stranger, an employer, a friend, a sibling, a daughter...

And even as the wife of the last son of Love with whom she had fallen in love with nineteen months after the interment of Love at the Vaults and Gardens Cemetery at Lekki and who she now sat next to, telling me her story at the Protea Hotel on Isaac John street in Ikeja.

Love had truly sown the seeds of love in her.

And that love, of Love, which Love had sown in her, glows even so much brightly today than it had that rainy afternoon in Lagos when Love had first seen her standing under the over-populated metal gazebo at Maryland bus-stop.

From Mr. Jude's collections

Wow, this is a very nice piece.
So touching and educative!
kudos!!!

mismore:
Wow, this is a very nice piece.
So touching and educative!
kudos!!!

.

Thanks