Hello everyone. Yesterday, Esther Ajidahun posted her first post for year under her column “Walk with me” so today Ayokunle Adedipe(also a co owner of the blog) is sharing with us the first story under her own column “Precisely mine”. The column is all about pure fictional material that will blow your mind. You can check out other stories after this but for now, please subscribe and Comment. Enjoy!
Life is a wheel of unexpected fortune.
Each day passes by with more and greater challenges. Each second passes by and we don’t know what will happen next. There are so many outcomes and possibilities of our daily activities. Probably a million or more but we don’t know which will happen.
I never imagined I would be standing here today. The sort of force that brought me here cannot be called a coincidence. It was too suspicious. I was standing in front of my house. The house that I bought with my own money. The first ever property I owned. The place I shared with a man I called my husband. I call it a house and not a home. It wasn’t where my heart was anymore.
In that house, i saw the man I married legally and swore he loved me with all his heart become a monster. It was in that house that hugs and kisses turned to blows and bruises. I don’t know what went wrong and I probably would never know. He kicked me out eventually and married another woman. I had 2 miscarriages in that house. I lost my job in that house. My inner self became shrinked and could be likened to a seriously malnourished child.
Leaving that house, I not only left my marriage behind, I left everything I ever owned, I didn’t even care about the money or how fancy the house looked. I didn’t want to be called Mrs Durotimi anymore. You might be wondering why it was me that bought the house. I didn’t see it as a big deal for my husband to be the sole provider despite the fact that all my friends thought I was crazy for thinking like that. I couldn’t blame them. We were raised in a typical African society. The house was in our name and I didn’t fight for any property during the divorce. I gave him everything.
10 years of my life went down the drain. Married for 8, had to pick myself up for 2. Noone saw it coming. My friends and family always thought we loved each other deeply. I loved him but I now know it wasn’t reciprocated and standing here now was bringing back the hurt.
I had not realized I was standing at the gate for a while now. I couldn’t feel my feet. My hands were cold and my eyes were hot. The tears were ready to flow but I held it back.
I came to Lagos after 10 years to visit my younger sister who apparently lived close by. I decided to take a walk and exercise a bit instead of driving. Lagos had changed since 10 years ago and even the street name had changed so I didn’t recognize that it was the house or even the street till I found myself standing here.
The house was looking different. It looked brighter, the painting was a different color but that wasn’t what made it brighter. I could see little children playing in the yard. I always imagined it like this but it would be my kids. I walked closely to the gate and the children laughed when I subconsciously found myself waving at them.
They looked so happy. It looked like they were going to have a birthday party. I was already crying reminiscing the two miscarriages I had.
“Madam, are you alright?” a woman’s voice interrupted me. I didn’t bother looking at the woman.
“Yes” I wiped my eyes, faked a smile and turned my back to leave.
” Very lovely family. Nice husband and nice wife with fine fine children Abi” the woman laughed. Very typical of most Nigerians to not mind their business. I just smiled and started walking and she started walking close to me.
” When they moved here last year, we even thought they would be snobs” she continued. I was about to tell her to mind her business till I understood what she said. I stopped and looked at her as if to repeat herself.
“Did you say last year?” I asked.
“Yes now, Mr and Mrs Ademide. They moved here last year. The former tenant, Mr James died of a stroke” she said with sympathy as she started shaking her head. “Durotimi James is dead?” i wanted her to be sure of what she was saying. She shook her head in affirmation. I wanted to scream. “Are you sure of what you are saying?” I shouted.
“Very sure now, his wife packed out 10 years ago and he died shortly after. It was a really sad period for this street” she lamented.
My legs were glued to the ground and it felt like I was sinking gradually. James had died 10 years ago. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t believe her yet but a big part of me was telling me it was true. I became too weak that I didn’t know when I fell to the ground.
