‘Bisola, you need to wrap this up now, I’m going home to see “maami”’, I grinned with joy at my secretary. “Oh! That reminds me, happy wedding anniversary sir, my regards to Mrs Noni Lion-Pelumi”, she gleams.
‘How time flies’, I thought. I’d met Miss Noni, an N.Y.S.C. member at a friend’s friend birthday party. We got entangled in an interesting conversation of a light argument which centred on a particular brand of phone in comparison to other brands. We sauntered through the streets of Gwarinpa for fresh air. Nine weeks later, Noni could not recover from my passion (she later confessed after we got married), I believed I had slightly come on too strong on her, spicing it with doses of affections, calls, texting, chatting till dawn until it “osmosed” to sex-chatting. During that time, I was a victim of an unrequited love from Tacha, almost convulsing the pre-Werther effect on me.
Noni bequeathed the diamond to me after a twine of quests, tests, and whatchamacallit. I became a God when I worship at her temple. Though, she was already a mother of one; I wouldn’t budge since all is fair in love. We tied the knot on completion of her compulsory N. Y. S. C. programme and it was a day to remember. Seven months later, I was transferred to Lagos State. In Lagos, I came in contact with Tacha (we seldom communicate on Facebook). My right sense knew my meeting with Tacha will end in tears but I will never yield but something must kill a man. In one of our discussions, Tacha told me she didn’t expect I would leave her for Noni. She said she was only giving herself time to know if I truly loved her or not. She added that she was confused and later blamed my impatience thereby scolding me on how I’d spoilt everything for her.
Two months later, a “white day” (not black day), the tragedy struck-Tacha had lost her husband to a ghastly plane crash-my heart sank at the knowledge of the unfortunate woes that bewailed her. I felt for her until I was caught in the web. I became a frequent visitor to her place to afford her succor. One day, the Devil came visiting, accompanied with Mephistopheles and Faust. I found Tacha in one of my visits to her place after my working hours. I met her in an awkward position, she was emotionally dejected, drunk at the same time sobbing. We embraced, we kissed and the expected thing in your mind came to action. My wife out of her suspicion noticed my unusual behavioural pattern, called me to order. I belied all her suspicions and accusations putting much loads of work as an alibi complimenting it with shortchange of staff in our company as a red herring for my infrequent weekends with my family in Abuja. Tacha and I continued our tryst until I jumped the gun. I was driven by covetousness and erratic feelings, I detached from Noni. All pleas by Noni, family, and friends to have me back or restore me to normalcy proved abortive. ‘Tacha had charmed me with “kayanmata”’, you will think. Down the line, Tacha bore me a girl but she gave up the ghost after giving birth. I became sad, dejected, feeling like a loser. ‘A stream will never forget its source’, says a Yoruba proverb. I took a bold step like the biblical prodigal son to the right path-to Noni. I approached friends and families, people I once cut off. I ran up to them one after the other to plead on my behalf before appearing before her. I approached Noni feeling like a sheep to be slaughtered in an abattoir. ‘Noni, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. When one knows his faults, he will never be kept on his kneels for long…It’s the Devil’s fault…Please give me one more chance…I promise this will not repeat itself again and nothing like this or relating to this shall come amidst us anymore…let’s live together like we used to…consider this baby with me, she needs a caring mum like you….’ After much pleading, nudging, persuasion, Noni forgave me. To err is human, forgiveness is divinity.