CHRISTMAS DATING
Episode 17
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I was moved to tears as I listened to him tell the story. My heart was heavy and aching. He looked so innocent and helpless. Jojo’s uncle was a handsome man who had been through so much in life. To be blind and paralyzed at the same time was a great deal for him. But he kept his head up and enjoyed the little things he could be grateful to God for.
Jojo asked me to make Egusi — melon seeds soup — for him. The man loved the soup so much that he could eat it all week. In fact, when I washed his pot to begin the cooking, I met left over of that same soup that he had been eating over the week.
Sweet Jojo cleaned the house and rearranged his room and sitting room. I helped him do one or two things while I was also cooking the soup. Jojo seemed to love the man as much as he did his own parents.
I felt nostalgic being in the village that weekend. It reminded me of home many years before. And Jojo lending a helping hand to his uncle made me love him the more. Some men would not even be moved to compassion. I felt blessed to have a man like him in my life. I stole a moment, two or more to play around with him while he was doing his cleaning. He would feel my stomach and call out his baby’s name. For a reason, I found that romantic.
I made some pounded yam after making the soup. Pa Banjo — for that was Jojo’s uncle’s name — liked Fuji music. Fuji is a genre of music peculiar to the Yoruba people in Nigeria. He played one track after another on his cassette player, and I vibed to much of the melodies, especially since Jojo had began to teach me more of Yoruba language.
After the meal Jojo went to visit some of his friends, who, according to him, had refused to move to the city because they didn’t see the need. I decided to stay back with Pa Banjo. As I had some conversations with him, it dawned on me that he was a well learned man. He spoke beautiful English colourfully flavoured with a dense ingredient of literature.
“Baba?” I called him after munching the groundnut seeds I threw into my mouth. “How did you lose your sight?”
“Ah! Ómó mì — my child, it is a long story.” He stopped short. He drank from his cup of water and cleared his throat. “Wò, do you enjoy the groundnut?” he asked passionately.
“It’s delicious, Baa mí. This is the best, I must confess.” I replied.
He laughed throatily. “Wait until you add Gúgúrú — popcorn — to it. You will be grateful to God for these beautiful things he has given us as food.” He said happily. He seemed to have fewer troubles in life and didn’t care how difficult situations were for him.
“Baa mí, please tell me. What happened to your eyes?” I asked again.
“They decided to stop seeing the sun rise at dawn.” He was laughing throatily again. “Go to that spot over there,” he pointed to the middle of his compound. “Pack as much gravels as your hand can.”
I walked to the spot where he pointed and did as he said. I wondered what he would do with those. My thoughts were scattered. But I was curious for an answer.
“Here, Baa mí.” I tried to show him the gravels but realized he wouldn’t see them. I felt emotional that moment.
“Can you throw those in Ayodele’s face no matter how angry at him you are?” He asked, emphatically. He called Jojo Ayodele — My joy has reached home.
“Baa mí?” I giggled. “Jojo is the sweetest thing that has happened to me in many years. I can’t see myself doing anything to put him to discomfort.” I looked at the gravels in my hand and imagined throwing them into Jojo’s face simply because I was angry at him.
“What is Jojo?” He seemed surprised to hear that.
“Oh, it’s my way of saying Joseph. Instead of calling my husband by his full name, I call him Jojo because I think that is more romantic.” I wished he saw the proud look on my face.
“You children in the later days of our world,” he laughed hard this time. “Jojo! That sounds sweet, actually.” He was still surprised as he mentioned it one more time. He drank from his cup of water again.
“So, Baa mí, what about the gravels?”
“You said no matter what Ayodele does to you, you can’t throw those in his face right?” He asked.
“I can’t. I can’t even imagine it.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Why?” He was facing me now.
“Because it feels wrong to do so.”
“It really feels wrong to do so, or it feels wrong to you alone?”
“I shouldn’t even think it. No woman or man should think to do such to their spouse.” I answered assuredly.
“But she did it.” He said that sharply.
“Who?”
“The. . .woman who used to be my wife many years ago.” He turned down the volume on his cassette player.
“Baa mí, don’t say it again.” It coloured me surprise.
“She did it with all the strength in her body, left me crying for help there, went into the house, packed her things and our two daughters’, and left without looking back.” His voice was now very solemn.
“I’m so sorry for asking, Baa mí. You may stop if you don’t want to talk about it.” I felt emotional.
“It’s okay. You asked. That’s why. It is the right thing to do. Don’t be sorry.” He said gently.
A short moment of silence had me imagining doing a thing like that to Jojo, knowing so well, how much damage it would cause him. I couldn’t bring myself to reconciling why a woman should make her husband lose his own sight. And as if he was reading my thoughts, he continued.
“I only asked her to make food for us and the children. She flared up. We got into an argument that led to some pushing. Then she ran out, made me come to her at that exact spot, and then this happened.” He was feeling emotional now.
“Did you go to the hospital?” I asked.
“It was late by the time I had arrived at the hospital. I lost the first eye by the end of that same week. Then the left eye followed many days later. It was a horrible experience for me. I don’t wish it for my worse foe.” He shook his head.
“It’s alright, Baa mí. You have life, you have the most.” I consoled him.
“Thank you, my dear. You know, my daughter’s come here to see me secretly. Their mother warned them never to come here. When they were younger, they would sneak out to come here and help me with little things. One of the days she caught them and delt mercilessly with them. But when they grew up and until now, they come as often as they can.” His face was glowing now.
“Do they live in the village?” I was anxious to know.
“They live in the big city like you and Ayodele. But they come at least once in a month.”
“All is well with you. Everything happens for a reason, and God is the one who knows the best.” I encouraged him.
“Ayodele is a good man. Take good care of him. He is the son I never had. After my wife left with the girls, it was him who came to live with me by himself. He did everything for me, and he did it without murmuring. You must love him without reservations.” He was serious when he said that.
“I know, Baa mí. He is the sweetest man on earth.” I laughed.
“Erhn! Who would say that his mother’s food is not delicious?” He laughed, too. “You know,” he continued. “He used to have a girlfriend who loved singing. She was the daughter of a clergyman, whom himself did not like Ayodele.” He was laughing.
“Yes, Baa mí. He told me so.”
“Abi? And he was chased by the clergyman one of the days.” He laughed again. “I laughed him to scorn that day. The young lady came here later that evening, and they both had a moment of reflection together. Unfortunately, she died on the first day of their certificate examination. Such is life.” He finished and thanked me for the food and for deciding to be a good wife to Jojo.
Jojo had told Pa Banjo so much about me that I didn’t know. It was Jojo who bought him a new wheel chair. He also sent him money for upkeep every month.
It was getting dark already when Jojo returned. He came back with dried, smoked bush meat and some fruits given to him by his friends. We spent the night at Pa Banjo’s house. It was moments of laughter, storytelling, Jokes and reflections.
When Pa Banjo had been tucked into his bed, Jojo and I sat on the pavement on the veranda. The moon was full and blazing. With my head on his shoulder, I thought about all the good things that I could have missed if I hadn’t met him. I imagined my life with one of my ex-boyfriends. It could have been a huge failure.
It made me grateful for the gift of Jojo. And that night, all I wanted was his kiss. And he gave me loads and loads of them.
Typing episode 18. . .
📷: Not mine
— Michael Ituma
