Usman gets back today. It's still quite early, my parents are passed out as usual on Saturday mornings, and I have decided to catch the sunrise to a cup of tea. I am at the balcony in the kitchen. Everything is quiet, and the harmattan morning air is cool. I pull closer at my blanket; the slow rise of the sun keeps me company alongside the birds.
I used to want lots of children, so many running around the house that I would find the noise a bit overwhelming but lovely because they're all mine. Now I think I just want three, 1 first born son, and two twin daughters. A quiet life on the country side, on a large estate full of a garden, and a horse stable, a swimming pool would be nice too.
On this isolated land, my partner and I would live alongside two best friend families with their own children, making us plenty but not a crowd. We would have picnic brunches, evening drinks, at home movie nights, sleepovers, baking, horse riding games. We'd be one big family.
Growing up without siblings, I want my children to be surrounded by so many children their age. I would love to raise my children in Nigeria as well. My stay in UK has taught me that I would rather not live elsewhere, and the only other place I'd settle for is UAE.
The dark blue is fading replaced by a deep orange as the sky welcomes the sun back, she takes her time, moving slowly, casting her gaze on everything underneath the sky. The clouds move too, and the deep orange fades into a bright gold, a gold that eventually becomes unchanging. It's over.
As if on cue, a car speeds by, and a second later nothing is quiet again, I'm no longer just in the company of birds and the sky, but the whole world has awakened as well.
When I push the door that separates the kitchen from the balcony, the maid has her back to me, as she puts away dishes into cabinets. Her loud music blaring, I doubt she's aware that I've just opened the door.
It is only when I step out of the kitchen an shut its door she startles. I don't go back to the guest room (where I have now been moved), instead I go to the living room. I can't remember the last time I used this TV. I am lying, it was 4 months ago during one family gathering, I hid away from the aunties and uncles asking about marriage with the children watching cartoon. At first, I was just using my phone, then I actually started watching the cartoon with them, and an hour later, I unlocked my phone to several missed calls.
I get a phone call from Amira, which I find weird, because while she's a morning person, we rarely ever talk at waking hours. As this realization settles in, I start panicking. What if someone is hurt?
I pick up at once. She's silent.
'Amira?' I say into the phone, breath hitched at my throat.
I don't hear her response- she hangs up.
Now I am confused.
I try calling her back when I notice she's typing on WhatsApp.
Amira; What the fuck Amra.
Me; What did I do?
Amira; You didn't tell me that Usman asked you out.
Me; Oh. I swear I was going to-
Me;Tell you-- I just-- I don't know why I didn't say anything.
Me; I'm sorry.
Amira; He just called me, he was so excited and nervous, he wanted to know if you were going to say yes.
She waits for me.
Me; That's why you called?
Amira; What the fuck do you mean 'That's why you called?'
YOU ARE READING
However it goes, it ends in pain.
RomanceI am 24, and I don't believe in love marriages. My mother and father, have a 15-year-old age gap, and their marriage is okay. I feel so sad that people blind to all the ways their relationship could end, and how awful the ending can be. Now, I b...
