She stood there overwhelmed with guilt and embarrassment, not knowing what to say. “the baby could get a cold if you continue standing there, even you aren’t immune to it” he said as he reached over to unlock and open the passenger door for her. “erhmm” she started to say after removing her baby from her back and strapping the seat belt “I’m sorry i was just carried away, been standing there for a while hoping that someone would be kind enough to stop and give me a ride. I guess the sound of the rain must have drowned everything else, i didn’t even know when your car stopped”. She glanced at him hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything like a smile but the expression on his face was indifferent. “God bless you”. “I’ve always liked the rain” he said “it helps clear things off my head. Usually on a day like this i would just walk in it for as long as i can, i don’t know why i decided to drive today but i guess it paid off”. “It sure did” she replied. “you jut moved into the neighborhood?” she asked after a while. “Not exactly” he answered, “i grew up here, been away for sometime, my family house is at crowther street”

As the car got close to the junction which leads to crowther street, she began to gather her baby and was already thinking how she would walk the remaining distance to her own house, but he didn’t turn into crowther street, he continued to drive straight, towards her own street. “I know you live here but i don’t know your house” he said. “it is farther down at the end if the street, the unpainted bungalow by the right side” she told him. The silence that followed was soothing, then she heard him ask “is that your daughter?” she nodded yes “her name is Ola; Igbo for jewel” she said. “I had a daughter too, she was my jewel, my everything. She died three months ago”. “I’m so sorry about that” she said, “how old was she?” she asked. “she was almost three” he answered. “she was born with a congenital heart disorder. The doctors here and in the US where she was operated said she wouldn’t live longer than seven months but she was a tough one. The operation was successful but the doctors said there would still be complications, that i shouldn’t get my hopes up. And indeed there were complications, many of them but she fought each as they came. She gave up the fight three months ago”. He was smiling as he took a picture from somewhere on the dashboard and gave it to her “her name is Iretiayo, she would have been named Enitan given the circumstances of her birth, but her mother insisted on Ireti”. “where is her mother?”, she asked “she died shortly after a birth. i came back here to mourn peacefully, i don’t like sympathizers and their half-honest condolences. No one around here knows what happened; why i returned to live in an empty house, a house I left years ago. I know they would have made up different stories but that’s their business. It is better that way, they could say all sort of things about why i came back and it doesn’t matter as long as they would let me be”.

Minutes seem like hours and after what seemed like an eternity but was just ten minutes, he stopped in front of her house. As she alighted the car, there was so much she wanted to say to him but she didn’t know if it would sound right or wrong coming from her; someone who has been so judgemental about him. However, as she walked to the gate, she turned and asked him to come in for a cup of Choco drink but he declined. “not today, some other time maybe” he said. She stood there by the gate and watched as he put the car in reverse, she stood watching as the rear light of the car became distant tiny red spot in the rain. Finally she pushed open the gate and walked in. For the rest of the evening, as she busied herself with her domestic responsibilities, there was only one thing on her mind, “A distorted truth”. Later, with her baby sleeping quietly beside her husband, she pick up her pen and pad and started to write.