SHATTERED DREAM
She
had lain in her matrimonial bed few minutes back, felt uneasy. Right now, she
had chosen to be on her feet, still struggling in her devastating mood. She had
remained like that for over an hour, kept roaming from one point to another in
the same room. Opeyemi, the happily married 37-year-old mother of two, seemed
not unlike one who had been duly notified that something was wrong somewhere.
Probably she was reacting to a mere presumption. The sparkling white pyjamas
she wore could feel every bit of the emotional crisis.
‘Ope’ as she was fondly called had been
in the marriage for almost eight years but her husband was resident abroad,
Spain precisely. That was exactly the bone of contention. Her hubby Tunde who
left about five years back, barely few months after she gave birth to their
second child, was yet to return since he departed. The couple only communicated
on phone, hoping to see each other once again someday. What else could the poor
woman do than to remain optimistic and resilient? Not until two weeks back when
Tunde’s unending phone calls that served as her only succour ceased to come.
She was yet to fathom the reason behind the abrupt break in transmission having
employed several means to unravel the forsaking mystery; none of his phone
numbers was reachable.
Few minutes later as she impatiently
stood on the tied floor, her cell phone that lay on the bed rang. The handset’s
ringing tone was one thing she longed for since it is the only way she could
hear from Tunde whom had been incommunicado for almost fourteen days.
Immediately, the tone apparently aroused her consciousness.
She rushed the phone, glanced at the
screen only to discover that her mother was the caller. She sighed, felt highly
disappointed, and thus couldn’t bother picking the damn call. She fiercely
threw the gadget back to the bed, but it rang again.
“What is it nah?” she lamented aloud as
the handset blared for the umpteenth time, then sluggishly picked it up once
again. “Good afternoon, mum.” She managed to utter as she eventually answered
the call.
“Ope,
how are you?” the caller, Mrs. Adeolu enquired tenderly, felt disturbed.
“I am fine, ma”
“Where have you been?” said Mrs. Adeolu.
“Why didn’t you pick your call?” she added in a jiffy.
“I am sorry, ma.” Opeyemi responded. “I
was busy in the kitchen.” She lied.
“Alright.” Mrs. Adeolu said, became
relaxed. “What about your children?” she added.
“They are yet to return from school.”
Opeyemi replied, quickly glanced at a wall clock hung in the room – it was
2.45pm. “They will be back by three.” She informed with a faded voice.
“Are you sure you are okay, Ope?”
“I am fine, ma.” She answered. “Besides,
why did you ask?”
“This is not your voice, my dear.”
“Mum, I am fine.”
“It’s a lie,” Mrs. Adeolu insisted. “I
have known you for thirty-seven years now.”
“So?”
“This is not you, my daughter.” quoth the
concerned mother. “Please tell me, what is the problem?”
Opeyemi calmly sat on her matrimonial
bed. “Mum, it’s Tunde.” She notified hesitantly.
“Your husband?”
“Yes ma.”
“What did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” she responded. “Just that I
haven’t heard from him for two weeks now.
“Are
you serious?”
“Yes
ma.’ She replied, nodding – the nod was significantly useless though.
“You don’t mean it.” Mrs. Adeolu
exclaimed. “Well, that is why I called.” She hesitantly chipped in.
“How?”
Mrs. Adeolu actually called on Tunde’s account
based on the directive of her husband, Mr. Adeolu. The latter had earlier in
the day while leaving for office instructed the former to invite their
daughter, Opeyemi home towards discussing a crucial issue regarding Tunde.
“I called because of Tunde.’
“What about him?” she curiously
tendered, stood up from the bed.
“There is nothing wrong, my dear.” Mrs.
Adeolu informed. “Actually, your father has a business plan to discuss with
Tunde, but he decided to inform you first.” She twisted.
“What business plan?”
“He said I should invite you home,”
quoth Mrs. Adeolu. “So you both can talk one on one.”
The two families resided in the same city.
Opeyemi’s matrimonial home was about ten minutes drive from where her parents
lived.
“So, when does he want me to come?” she
said anxiously.
“Tomorrow,” Mrs. Adeolu replied. “In the
morning.”
The following day was Saturday, so the
65-year-old Mr. Adeolu who was an established entrepreneur wouldn’t be going to
office. He worked only during the weekdays.
“Okay ma.” quoth Opeyemi. “I will be
there in the morning.”
“Alright, see you then.” said the
64-year-old Mrs. Adeolu.
“Bye ma.”
* * *
* * *
“Ope, how are you?” Mr. Adeolu asked as
he was seated in his parlour alongside his wife on the following day being
Saturday.
Opeyemi who was clad in a maternity gown
sat opposite the couple. “I am fine, sir.” She answered in false pretence.
“What about your kids?”
“There are also fine.” she said. “They
even wanted to come with me.”
“You said, when last did you hear from
your husband?”
“Over two weeks now, sir.’
Mrs. Adeolu shook her head, felt for
her daughter.
“Have you tried to reach him?” Mr.
Adeolu enquired.
“Yes sir.” quoth Opeyemi. “I have tried
all his numbers but none was available.”
“What about his parents?” the chief host rode
on. “Have you heard from them?”
“They are also worried.” she responded. “They
haven’t heard from him too.”
“Hmm..”
Mr. Adeolu released a deep breath.
“I
learnt you have a business plan to discuss with him?”
“Business
plan..? Mr. Adeolu said, surprised; hastily looked at his wife who was seated
beside him. “What did you tell her?” He queried.
The wife was speechless, really trapped
by the question.
Opeyemi became very confused at the
scenario, thus she was therein gripped by fear.
The
truth was that her mother twisted the reality of the moment when they spoke on
phone the previous day, though she did it to zero her (Opeyemi’s) mind from any
suspicion.
From Mrs. Adeolu’s countenance, her
hubby needn’t be told that something fishy transpired during the phone
conversation, hence, he never bothered to receive an answer to his query.
“Dad, what is going on here?” Opeyemi
inquired, sensed unease.
“My dear, there is no need beating about
the bush.” quoth Mr. Adeolu.
The moment he made the comment,
Opeyemi’s heart stuck in her tummy. “Is
my husband alive?” She exclaimed emphatically, stoop up.
“Far from it.” her father replied. “Just
that, …” He added, stopped.
“That what?” Opeyemi ranted, stood still.
“He was deported last week.” He eventually
informed.
“What..?” Opeyemi shouted, subconsciously
resumed her seat.
Her mother walked to her seat and began to
console her.
“Take it easy, my dear.” Her father
sympathized, remained in his seat.
Tunde was repatriated from Italy over a
week ago owing to a misunderstanding that ensued between him and a Spanish ‘sugar
mummy’ he intended to marry. He resorted to settling down with her since it was
the only way he could acquire a permanent residency permit. Barely three weeks
to their proposed court wedding, she discovered that Tunde already had a
Nigerian wife; hence, out of frustration, she set the dude up.
When he returned to Nigeria, he went
straight to his in-law’s residence, and they were the only persons that knew
his whereabouts – although they weren’t told the actual reason behind the
deportation. Since then, they had been thinking of how to disclose the matter
to his wife.
“So, where is my husband?” Opeyemi asked
her parents amid convulsive gasps.
Before she could finish the question, Tunde
surfaced from one of the rooms in the house.
On sighting him, Opeyemi hastily jumped
up in tears and hugged him. He reciprocated passionately.
As they hugged each other
affectionately, Tunde perhaps kept wondering how he would cope with the days
ahead since his dream had been seemingly shattered.
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