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Be Good At All Times

Be Good At All Times

by May 8, 2015 0 comments

I love doing things according to plans and even my wedding is not left out. That was why I chose my wedding date as far back as 2008 when I didn’t have any particular babe I was dating. December 12, 2015 was the wedding date I chose.

Some of my friends challenged my reasoning while others felt I wasn’t serious about it.

“How will you chose a wedding date when you don’t even have a fiancée” Monday, a friend of mine, once asked.

“What is the big deal in having a day chosen for a wedding out of the 365 available in a year?” I asked him.

“If God could pick a day for me out of 365 days available in a year, why won’t I trust him to provide me with a wife out of more than one billion marriageable babes in the world?” I further asked him.

By the end of 2014, I became agitated as it appeared rapture had occurred and all marriageable babes had escaped to heaven. The wrong types of girls were the only ones coming my way; babes who are ready to “chop” your money even if you are not a fan of P-Square.

My heart was broken by babes on a couple of occasions; some people said it was because I shattered hearts earlier in life. What goes around, comes around.

I got very lucky the day I met Zainab. A friend introduced us.

Before the end of the second month into our relationship, I had met all members of her family apart from her dad who was based in Dubai. She has an elder sister, a younger sister and a younger brother. If I didn’t meet Zainab first, I would have fallen in love with her younger sister, Adeola. She’s so pretty just like her sister, maybe more. If I were still in the world, I would have made an attempt. However, old things have passed way and all things have become new.

Zainab also met with my folks and everyone loved her. Even my mom who is always skeptical about any girl I bring home threw away her skepticisms this time. I don’t blame my mom because I didn’t help matters. At a point, I brought three babes home in a month.

On each occasion, I assured her the person I brought was “the one” and she was already tired of the several “the ones”.

From day one, Zainab made me realize that there won’t be sex before our wedding night and I reluctantly agreed till when I would be able to convince her otherwise.

At times, I consider myself lucky as a young man. It is generally believed that a man must engage in at least one out of these three vices: drinking, smoking cigarettes and womanizing.
As for me; I don’t drink, I don’t smoke cigarettes (I only do weed once in a while) and I don’t womanize unless I’m tempted beyond my strength.

I was so much in love with Zainab that I made up my mind that I would totally abandon weed and I would abstain from sex until the night of 12/12/2015.

I discussed Vision 12/12/15 with her the day I proposed to her and she seemed to like the idea. Her only concern was that it was too early in terms of planning, and my response was that we can get a wedding planner, she won’t have to stress herself.

Some weeks after, we started discussing wedding plans. The only challenge was that I needed to meet her dad who was away in Dubai before we could communicate the date to the whole world. I spoke with my future father-in-law on phone and it appeared the man liked me because we attended the same University.

On a Saturday morning in the month of June, Zainab called me and said she had a surprise for me. She told me to come over to her house for the package and I had to be on my way immediately.

Unfortunately, I had already broken the promise I made to myself that morning.

I’d smoked weed.

The problem was the song of Reminisce “Eruku Wole”. I listened to the song so much that I started dreaming about weed.

“kako bi shiken, naro bi pako!”

I went clubbing the preceding Friday and it was as if that song was on repeat mode. I really enjoyed dancing to it, ‘Gaga Crazy’ and other bad jamz played by the DJ. When I woke up on Saturday morning, the first thing I did was to drive down to Oniru to see Sikiru, the weed merchant.

I had just returned home and freshened up when Zainab’s call came in.“Hello baby” she said, as I picked the call.“How was your night, sweetie?” I asked.“Hope you didn’t mess around with girls at the club and you didn’t drink” she asked. She was aware that we had a welcome party for my friend, Kenny Ajetunmobi who just returned from the States. She doesn’t do clubs thus she pleaded with Kenny to be excused. I would have preferred that we see later in the day but she insisted.“Darling, I want you to come over to our house now. I have a surprise for you” she said.“What’s that, baby?” I asked.“Just come over, honey” She said. If there was something I have not been able to do in our relationship, it was arguing with her. There is something logical about her arguments that would make you look like a fool if you disagree. On this occasion, I didn’t want things to get to that level so I reluctantly agreed though the only thing I wanted to do was sleep.

However, I could do anything for Vision 12/12/2015. I picked my car keys to leave for her house. I was driving out of my house when Francis came out of his car. That was when I remembered that he called to inform me he would be paying me a visit. I persuaded him to let us visit Zainab together at Gbagada and he obliged. He parked his car and he joined me. As I drove out of Masha Street to come out at Stadium bus stop, I stepped on the brakes when I discovered that the traffic lights had turned red.“Gbam!” the car behind me hit my car at the rear. I immediately came down to evaluate the damage done but it was nothing too serious.

The driver of the other car, a Kia product, also came out of his car. He appeared to be a few decades older than me. As is customary in Lagos, we started raining curses on each other. The weed I took earlier in the day didn’t help matters at all, or should I say really helped matters. I wanted to hit the man but Francis held me.

I was persuaded by Francis and some passers-by to leave the man since no serious damage was done to my car. As I turned to leave, a dirty, thunderous slap landed on my neck.The man slapped me! What happened thereafter was like a movie because I can’t even explain how it occurred. I just saw that I was holding a stick and the man’s head was bleeding. I must have hit him. Francis dragged me to the car while the man was held by some people. After much persuasion, we both agreed to go our separate ways. We stopped at a petrol station to buy fuel at Ojuelegba and we headed towards Gbagada.

When we got to Zainab’s house, the first person I saw was her mom. As a Yoruba boy, I prostrated for Zainab’s mom as I entered through the door to their sitting room. Francis did the same.

“Daddy is back, dear!” Zainab shouted
Getting up, I looked ahead and I was devastated by what I saw.

Zainab was tying a bandage on a man’s head to stop blood which was gushing out of it.

That was the man I struck, that was Zainab’s dad.

VISION 12/12/2015 WAS NO MORE.

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