DOWN- Episode one

DOWN
 
Life promises us a bath in a fancy Jacuzzi
It only doesn’t tell us
The Jacuzzi is filled
With painful pebbles.
 
-Adegbola Goodness
 
 
Episode one
 
Okwanze Andrew Kenechukwu rose out of his dream with a smile on his face. He only had a hazy memory of the dream, he had never had the ability to precisely remember his dreams. He knew it involved him lulling his son to sleep and then his wife said his singing was disturbing her sleep and some other things. His son. He smiled again. What if the child is not a boy? He wondered. It would not be long before he found out.
 
A cold wave of rugged February breeze soughed through the room, rustling the thick purple drapes and sapping moisture from beneath Andrew’s feet, he tucked his feet snugly under the duvet.
 
He reached for his wristwatch which was just on top of his bedside drawer and glanced at it in the dim light of the bedside lamp. 3:30 AM. He dropped the watch and let sheer languor keep him glued to the bed for the next 22 minutes while he fantasized about his soon-to-come child. He really wished it would be a son.
 
He turned to look at his wife who lay supine beside him, he looked at her face; her flat, widened nose glimmered in the light of the bedside lamp, it was full of overly active pores. Her closed eyelids covered her dark, liquid pupils with pits that seemed to diverge in them and danced about in a sclera that was ivory, a match for the colour of her evenly spaced teeth. Her hair, tinged brown, kinky and short was packed in a hair net. Her lips were as lush and sensuous as they had always been and Andrew could not resist planting a kiss on them, she grunted and stirred. He leaned his elbow on her pillow and towered above her, like he did on several other days, he savoured her, studying every minutiae. She was not too fat for a 5’7 person before the pregnancy, but now she whined almost every day about how ‘blown out of proportion’ she was. He let his eyes go down to her rotund abdomen. If only he could peep and see just what the foetus tautening his wife’s tummy looked like. He could barely wait to meet his baby. He was as excited and anxious as he was nervous. He had heard tales about childbirth; funny, nice and morbid ones. He shoved aside the thoughts, overcame inertia and trudged to the living room where he was sure his prayers would not disturb his sleeping wife.
 
After his quiet time, Andrew had enough time to reminisce since sleep was hiding from him. He sat on the three-seater couch, his grey sweatpants-clad legs crossed and spread out before him, his hands clutching a furry throw-pillow to his midriff as he dredged up memories. He embarked on a mental journey in time back to his university days, particularly to his 300 level when he had met Adebimpe.
 
“Aderonmu Adebimpe Charlotte” He mouthed her full name with a sad smile.
 
That day when he stood at the feet of the stairway and watched her descend the flight of stairs played in his mind. He had had something to sort out with his school documents, a discrepancy between the order of his names as presented on his birth certificate and what was in the school records and that little issue was growing to be a threatening snag.
 
He entered the reception of the administrative block and was about to go upstairs when his eyes caught her and that was enough to keep him rooted to that spot. The olive-skinned charmer was about 6’1 feet tall, wore a pink, brocade, three-quarter sleeved blouse tucked without crinkles into her charcoal grey skirt that reached down to her knees, her slender hourglass structure caused the outfit to bulge gracefully in the right places. Her frilly hair was shorn and kempt, her feet shod in a low heel black shoe. She wore no make-up, oh, she had a dash of nude lipstick on. She was in the company of two friends with whom she was chatting and those friends might well have been invisible to Andrew. Her gait was dainty and languid, her hand movements not forced or superfluous and when she smiled at something her friends said, his knees weakened.
 
It wasn’t like that was the first time he’d see her, they attended the same fellowship, but that would be the first time he’d take note of her and he thought she was fiercely beautiful. At that point he could bet that he had never seen anyone as pretty as the lady who was coming downstairs, approaching him and causing his heart to vibrate with each thump. It took the jostle of a passerby to snap him out of the moment.
 
After that incidence, Andrew would wonder why thoughts of her would loiter around in his head and he would be resolute to dismiss them. But when he saw that he was unable to get Adebimpe off his head, he decided he had to seek counsel and Mr. Ibekwe Barnabas Inojie, his fellowship facilitator who would, later on, become his spiritual father, came in as the best option. He expected the older man to berate him for retaining floppy thoughts in his mind and probably ask him to focus on renewing his inner man and set his mind on spiritual things, but contrarily he asked him if he had prayed about it.
 
“Pray, sir?” He had asked furrowing his brows.
 
Barnabas nodded and said, “When you’ve heard from God then we can talk.”
 
It turned out God wanted her for him and that scared Andrew terribly, Bimpe was not his kind of girl. Pfft! It was not like he had ‘a kind of girl’ but Bimpe was way out of his league. She was a 400 level mass communication student, from the look of things came from a rich home and she was so damn beautiful that it almost intimidated him. Though he was a year older than her, he saw thinking of ever having anything with her as reaching out of his range. But when he shared his convictions with Mr. Obikwe, the man confirmed it.
 
“Hun” The groggy words came from the master’s bedroom and Andrew knew his reminiscing would have to wait. He slipped his feet into his slides and walked towards the room.
 
“Mama ejima” He teased his heavily pregnant wife. Lovette smiled. Her nose was twice the size he married and she would not look different if she had lifted her face from a pan of oil. He sat beside her and took her swollen hands.
 
“Today is the day. The D-day” He said
 
She puffed a chuckle as she turned with the least ease. “The day that the Lord has made.”
 
“We should start packing and get to the hospital already.”
 
“Yes we should pack but I don’t think we should start running to the hospital just yet. Let’s wait at least, for the first contraction.” She said
 
“It’s not me and you that will do that one oh,” Andrew demurred “You want us to do that so that traffic will lock us and I’d have to be the one to deliver the baby, right?”
 
Lovette laughed “You worry too much. Chances are that the child wouldn’t be coming today. So..” She splayed her hands and shrugged as she let her voice peter out.
 
“No oh. I can’t wait any more day to meet my son”
“-or daughter” Lovette added. “Don’t break your own heart, she’d be a girl”
 
“-or boy.” Andrew said with a wry grin.
 
“Yeah. Whichever way, I’m not going to torment myself with the smell of the hospital any longer than necessary.”
 
“I wi-” His words were interrupted by the ringing of his phone. His wife passed it.
 
“Who is it?” He asked before taking the phone from her
 
“Mrs. Aba” She replied and he slapped an open palm against his face as he hissed.
 
“That’s my boss. She’s definitely calling for no good reason.” He dropped the phone and let it ring. “She’s going to say ‘I’m really sorry Mr. Okwanze, there’s a situation that requires your urgent attention. I know you’re on leave but could you please come over to the office?’”
 
“You can’t be so sure.” His wife said just when the phone stopped ringing.
 
“I’m so sure cos this happened the last time I was on leave, and the one before then and for the past three consecutive times.” The phone started ringing again.
 
“Is she still the one?” Lovette asked and Andrew nodded. “I don’t think it’s ideal for you to ignore her calls.”
 
“It’s just as ideal as her intruding on my well-deserved leaves.” Andrew said rising “I can’t leave you today. No way!”
 
After about two minutes, the phone stopped to start ringing a minute later.
 
“Aaaarghh! Can someone tell Mrs. Aba Najite to leave me alone?” He said through his teeth, throwing his fist in the air.
 
Lovette chuckled. “Uncle, you better pick your phone before you get fired.”
 
He did, reluctantly and put the phone on speaker.
“Good morning Mrs. Aba.”
 
“Morning, Mr. Okwanze. I’m really sorry to be a bother-” Andrew gave his wife an I-told-you look as Mrs. Aba went on just like Andrew said she would.
 
“Ma, I’m also really sorry but-”
 
“Are you out of town?” She was now impatient, the politeness out of her voice.
 
“No ma’am but-”
 
“Great. I’d be expecting you at the office by eight thirty.”
 
“Ma, we are expec-” The line went off.
 
Andrew redialled her line, it was her turn to ignore his calls. After three unanswered calls, Andrew hissed and paced the room.
 
“I told you picking her call was a wrong move.”
 
Lovette sighed. “I guess. But what are we going to do now?”
 
Andrew glanced at the big blue wall clock hanging beside the drapes which covered the windows behind the king size bed with a headboard that had fitted cushion. 6:45. He bent his head and put his arms akimbo.
 
“Oh Lord, what are we to do?” He said under his breath and waited. And then it came.
 
 
****
 
Andrew pressed the horn hard and long.
“You are going to have the baby and not going for a baby shower oh!” He screamed through the window of their Black Hyundai car.
 
“I’m comiiiinnng!” She hollered back from inside.
 
 
He shook his head and reached to the rearview mirror, to adjust it and give himself an assessing stare. A few black spots from pimples of yesteryears dotted his ochre coloured face, he had hooded eyes and a jaw fully covered with beards. His beards, Lovette’s favourite thing about his face. She loved how the hard strands prickled her face whenever he hugged her, she used to find his lankiness attractive once upon a time but now she wanted him to have more flesh under his skin, she said that would prove she was taking care of him. Andrew always laughed at that, Lovette had no idea how much his lovely, sloe-eyed mother had tried –to no avail- to make him fatten up and funny enough, she wanted him to look healthy for the very same reason as Lovette.
 
He glanced at his silver wristwatch; 7:22. He propped his elbow on the dashboard and put his head in between his index finger and thumb. He looked through the window as he waited for her.
 
“Do I look gorgeeeoous?” She crowed gleefully as she closed her door.
 
“The gorgeousness I want to see is my son.”
 
“Ugh?” She goggled at him then she pounded the door, “Get me out of this car!” She yelled dramatically.
 
He gave her a side-eye look and then he craned his neck to peck the curve of her neck. He shoved the key into the keyhole to turn on the ignition and the engine hummed. He backed out of the driveway and out of the gate. They were headed for the Olaniyan’s home. Olaniyan Jarret, a stockily built man with an appetite for food as large as his eyes, was Andrew’s colleague and at the moment he had asked the Lord for help, he had remembered that Jarret’s home was on the same street as the hospital were Lovette had her antenatal and was to deliver the baby. So she could pass time there while she awaited her first contraction. He had put a call through to Jarret and he told him that he was at work but his wife, Modupe, was at home and Lovette could stay with her. So, the plan was that Andrew would drop Lovette off and from there head to the office, once he was done from the office, he would rejoin his wife.
 
Andrew lightly pressed the brake with his right foot and turned the steering wheel with both hands as he maneuvered a bend. He let his thoughts wander in the direction they did earlier that day.
 
After stalling for some time, Andrew made an overture one balmy Wednesday afternoon on the pathway that led out of the school Library. He was coming out of the Library and he had been upset; the assignment he was trying to garner materials for was proving too difficult. It was in that moment he espied Bimpe emerging from a corner coming from a block of petty traders’ stalls. Andrew felt a heady energy surge through him, he was going to walk straight to her and ask her to be his wife. Thank God his silly courage faltered when he came face-to-face with her and he decided instead to make an attempt at kick-starting a friendship, else he would have done the most ridiculous thing ever.
 
She welcomed his shoddy shot with a smile and a handshake. Their friendship would bloom for there and they would become really close. They had quite a number of things in common; She had a deep passion for children and child evangelism, while he wrote gospel children stories -bible story adaptations as well as didactic fictional ones- on the sides. Long before Bimpe came up at all, he had known God will have him reach to children with the gospel and biblical principles via stories. He showed her his works, she loved them, edited them and brought in tangible inputs. They shared values but they didn’t always share views, they disagreed and argued about some things, sometimes came to a compromise and other times held onto their individual opinion.
 
Andrew was sure she was the one and he itched to have her as wife already but he waited till he felt a release in his spirit and then decided to propose to her on her convocation day, he thought it was romantic to do so. By now, he had a sense of romance which was non-existent prior to Adebimpe. Bimpe effected a lot of changes in his life, some things which stood in him as edifices were demolished. He used to be stoic, to a large extent before she came into his life.
 
He recalled one of such experiences. They were sitting together on a common chair under a large mahogany tree when she asked him how he found a movie she had asked him to watch.
 
“It’s not my type of movie, but then it was okay.”
 
She chuckled. “Did you cry?”
 
Andrew had been shocked to the bones. He grimaced and scowled. “Men don’t cry”
 
“My brother cried when he watched that movie, it’s a really emotional one”
 
He let out a condescending snort. “Well, real men don’t cry.”
 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice had an inflection that held warning.
“I’m sorry, I meant no inference. But it’s what it is, the truth.” He shrugged.
 
Bimpe remained quiet for some seconds like she always did whenever she was about to say something that mattered.
 
“Do you think Jesus was a real man while he was on earth?”
 
“Of course, it takes a real man to endure such excruciating death. But what has Jesus got to do with anything?”
 
She nodded. “What about David? Was he a real man?”
 
“Do you know how many battles that man conquered? No doubt he was a real man. But I still don’t see the link between David, Jesus and what we were saying.”
 
“What’s in John 11:35?”
 
“Why are you asking irrelevant questions, Bimpe?”
 
“Just answer”
 
“Jesus wept,” Andrew answered offhand and he didn’t realize what he said until it rolled off his tongue. That verse was one he had on his fingertip, almost everyone knew that portion of the scripture, some people even used it as an exclamation. But never, not for once did he realize what Adebimpe now inferred.
 
“You see?” She said softly “Do you know how many times David wept in the bible? Yet he was called the man after God’s very heart. If it was unnecessary do you think the bible will dedicate a whole verse to Jesus tears? That was written so that we would know that Jesus was human in every way, he was grieved, he mourned, he wept. And also, that means you don’t weep because you’re a woman, we cry cos we are human.” She paused. “Look, you don’t necessarily have to cry over a movie, it’s okay if tears don’t come at all for you. My point is, saying real men don’t cry is wrong and misleading!” All she said was plain and bare before him, lucid and it was weird that he knew deep down it was true. But he couldn’t agree, it contrasted too sharply with what he had known all his life. What he had been taught by the society, by his own father, Bimpe dismissed as ‘wrong and misleading’. He clenched his teeth and spoke in a gruff heady tone. “I still don’t agree with you. Let’s talk about something else.” He avoided Bimpe’s distressed face.
 
But a responsive chord in him had already been strummed and later that day, he would toss and turn on his bed struggling with Bimpe’s words which wouldn’t stop playing in his mind. The words rankled, they were scripturally backed and balanced and his spirit bore witness to it. This bothered him very much, how much more of what his father taught him was wrong and misleading? For how long had he clung to wrong notions? For how long had he been misled?
 
His Father, a highly respected soldier had been his role model and picture of the real man all through his growing years. When Mr Okwanze Stephen was not far away warring, he was back at home grooming Andrew to be ‘a real man’. The older man always had something to complain about, something Andrew did too much for a real man
 
“You smile too much for a man! One shouldn’t be able to tell what’s going on in your mind by reading your face.”
“You speak too much for a man!”
“You worry too much about what people think for a man! Men are gods, you need no one to be your second or to second your thoughts”
 
He admired his father and sponged in all he had to say. His father had been a god, Andrew saw how his Mom and every family member worshiped him, He loved it and longed to be like that someday.
 
So when one day in their Enugu home, as Andrew walked through the hallway he heard his sister, Chinecherem, say to him “If you ask me, that jacket is not fitting on you”, he had remembered and put to practice his father’s teaching.
 
“Well, I didn’t ask you” He retorted and walked away. When he got to the living room he saw his father sitting, legs crossed and beaming a proud, small smile at him. The man’s approval brought gladness to Andrew. He’d only been 10 years old when that happened.
 
When he was 12 his father died in the battlefront. By then Andrew had been formed into the image his father wanted; he had corked his lacrimal glands, he had frozen his emotions, he had become an authority in himself. When the news hit him, he felt burning emotions he couldn’t express, tears pressed his eyes and like his father, he had to resort to green bottles to drown out his feelings.
 
They reached a junction that had a traffic light and it turned red. Andrew pressed the brake and pulled the car behind a tan Sienna vehicle. He looked over at his wife and she winked at him, he smiled. Oh, how he loved this woman.
 
The driver in the Sienna car harrumphed and snorted so loudly that Andrew heard it, and immediately after that he sent a mass of phlegm hurtling through the window, the glob squirted on the sidewalk. Andrew looked away, appalled. He let his thoughts drift yet again.
 
On the day of Bimpe’s convocation, he went to her tent and congratulated her warmly. He gave her the gift he got for her and asked her to take a walk with him.
 
They walked right in the middle of the asphalt road like it was made for them alone. Bimpe had been excited, too excited to see that he was nervous. After doing one last mental rehearsal, Andrew held both of Bimpe’s hands and turned her to face him.
 
“Adebimpe, I love you very much and I’d love to have you by my side all my life, to live with you as man and wife.”
 
Bimpe blinked, pulled her hands out of his grip and backtracked. She was not the least prepared for that.
 
There was a quaver in her voice as she said: “You’re serious?”
 
“I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been more serious in my life.” She stared at him with bewildered eyes. She was lost for words. “I’d give you as much time as you need to prayerfully consider my proposal.”
 
Her ‘yes’ came while she was serving in Ebonyi state and their relationship started out as a fireball. It lasted three years, three wonderful, auspicious years before Bimpe upped and for a vague reason ended the relationship and then went beyond reach. What was that lame line that sounded to Andrew like fluffy nothing, again? It is not about you, it is about me.
 
Andrew nursed her in his mind like a widower will do a dearly loved wife who left in her prime, avowed never to love any other woman as his sacrifice of love to the deceased. Andrew’s heart was shut to ladies, even to Lovette when he first met her. But when the great physician took him to his ICU and nursed his wounded heart -which he’d kept fresh by constantly licking- he was able to take baby steps as the Lord led, and he learned to love again.
 
It’s only been a year since he tied the conjugal knot with Lovette and this year was a bumpy but absolutely lovely one. Lovette had claimed his heart even in ways Bimpe did not and he was sure that they had better days ahead.
 
The traffic light changed to yellow then green and Andrew lifted his foot from the brake to accelerator. In less than 20 minutes they were at the Olaniyan’s.
 
Andrew parked the car in front of the bungalow and they both got down. He opened the backseat and hefted the bag that contained the incoming baby’s load onto his shoulders. He closed the door and walked around the car.
 
“Won’t you take a photo of me?”
 
He took out his phone from his breast pocket quickly. “Pose. No time.”
 
She spun so that air got into and blew her chestnut taffeta gown. Her hair was air-borne, her arm outstretched, mouth ajar with a smile that literally dripped its goodness. The beautiful moment was perfectly captured on Andrew’s I-phone 6.
 
“Is it nice?”
 
Andrew didn’t have so much time. He quickly went beside her and took a selfie with her.
 
“Good morning Mrs Olaniyan.” Andrew said once they got inside.
“Good morning Daddy Ibeji. Why so formal? You can call me Modupe.” Modupe said as she offered her guests seats and Andrew smiled. “Mummy twins, please feel at home. I’m sure we would get along well and I hope God grants you safe delivery.”
 
“Amen. Thank you.” Lovette said, twiddling with her fingers. While Andrew had met Modupe a few times at the office when she tagged along with Jarret, Lovette was meeting her for the very first time.
 
“So what do I offer you?”
 
Andrew explained why he had to hurry off, pecked his wife goodbye and left.
 
 
****
 
He was done from the office. He had called his wife shortly before he was through; she was still enjoying Modupe’s company and she was yet to have a contraction or have her water break so he decided to stop by briefly at a nearby mall to get lunch for Lovette, Modupe and himself.
 
As he trundled his cart down the aisle in the mall, he could barely contain his joy. His son was coming. He had a name for him already, he had always loved the name Chibuzor and had stashed it in the safest parts of his heart for his son -if he ever had any. And even now, he was not completely sure that his child was going to be a male but if it turned out to be as he wished, the boy’s name shall be Chibuzor which is translated to be, God comes first. Such a perfect name. He smiled.
 
He saw someone ahead of him, her back was turned to him. The cascade of her blond weave curved over the nape of her neck. She wore a lilac cord lace peplum blouse with a silk underlay and a long skirt of the same material. Andrew thought she looked familiar, it wasn’t about her looks like it was about the feeling in his gut. Yet he could not place it. She disappeared around a corner and he doubled his pace, wheeling his cart faster, trying to find her before he lost the chance.
 
When he came in closer range, he knew with faint certitude who it was. He was going to try.
 
“Adebimpe” He called and got no response. He was wrong. He tried again, nonetheless.
 
“Adebimpe Charlotte.” He put the words into the activity going on the mall and this time, she turned, waving her hair over her shoulder. She was the one.
 
****
Welcome aboard, I hope you find this series helpful, blessing and educative.
 
Questions for the Week
 
*Do you think that God’s will in choosing a life partner is a myth, something people just use to assert their own choice, or do you think it is real?
 
*Considering Adebimpe and Andrew, do you think a relationship that was ordained by God can still hit rock bottom? and why.
*Do you think you would keep tabs on this series till the end? And why?
 
By this time next week, God willing, the second episode shall be up. Thank you. Your readership is highly appreciated. And your participation in answering the question for the week would also highly be appreciated.
 
To answer the question, make a post on facebook, Instagram or Twitter, tag me –I would drop my handles now- and don’t forget the hashtagS #CFCDown and #CFCDowntheconversation. Please participate, your opinion matters a great deal. It would be good if the posts come in before Sunday so that I can curate them and make the first episode of Down the Conversation.
 
Instagram – @official_mophie
Facebook- Goodness Adegbola
Twitter- @AdegbolaMo
 
NEXT ON DOWN
 
Now as Andrew walked towards the parking lot, he was sure that Bimpe was not the same and this bothered him. The simple fact that she was trying so hard to prove that she was better off without him, made him know that she most likely was not.
 
He pushed thoughts of Bimpe asides and by default, his mind drifted to his wife. His wife!
 
His heart lurched. He had completely forgotten that he was expecting a baby. Instinctively, he felt his pocket and the only thing he felt was the smooth small bulge of Bimpe’s card. What about his phone?
 
He hurried to the car, unlocked it with the keyless remote, dumped the shopping bags in the back seat and then saw his phone on the front passenger’s seat. He’d forgotten it. He picked the phone and the moment he unlocked it, the first thing that caught his sight made him know that there was serious trouble. 7 missed calls from ‘Love’. His pulse jumped.