Short Story : The Proposal

Fest-us. She called me. I liked the way she pronounced the first syllable with all her breath and just allowed the second one to seep through her lips. Nobody called me like that. People called my name every time but Oh, nobody called me like that.

    I, in turn showered love and affection on the wide lipped, damsel who was to bear my name. She also had her idiosyncrasies, she could rival princess Diana with her British accent even though I had never set eyes on her British passport. I am not saying she didn't have one, but in the four years which our courtship lasted, I did not see it. She also took pride in eating with all cutlery in the numerous times we ate out, of course, I paid. But in the comfort of her apartment she ate almost everything with her hands. To you, reading this, She might come across as a poseur but she was my fiancee. She called my name right and I loved her.

    I had been planning to propose to her since we graduated university. You see, we met in school at one of those parties where the dresses the ladies wore jumped up because the ground was filled with terrors. I had been in the company of Tunji, my only male friend then. We had been looking at the girls with hungry eyes and no courage. If only the sight could fulfill the intent of the heart, we would have been mobbed.
    Tunji had dared me to send the most expensive drink to the most daring of them all. My mother, before I left my parent's abode for university had told me to be wary of "catfishes"  but this was the fishiest of the cats. Her lipstick was so thick I could have sworn she could get lead poisoning by just licking her lips. Her golden skin shone in the flickering lights of the smoke filled disco house, she wasted no time coming over. Introducing herself as Angela, we became friends.

     I still had my naivety and innocence with me but a predator like her had none. Angela exercised and worked me, taking with her every shred of innocence I had. I think I still retained my naivety outside her scope. I used to ask her how she lost her virginity but after hearing 3 different stories while she was under the influence. I simply gave up.

      More than the romps I enjoyed in our courtship, the thing I loved most was that she was possessive of me, she did not hesitate to mark her territory with hostile glances and threats whenever she saw me with ladies who happened to be my departmental mates or church members. The only person she could not drive away was Martha, of course, She on multiple occasions had traded words with Martha majorly calling her dimwitted and thick in the head while Martha responded by calling her a farm implement I wouldn't like to mention here. This usually ends up in a "Yoruba standoff"...... All talk and no action.

   But this feeling of having someone who was willing to fight for one's attention and love was my most dominant driving force in the relationship. Hers was money, not that I paid her to be with me. But if at any point in time I had not given her money for some days. The signs would undeniably manifest.
     I, aware of all these facts have made up my mind to propose to her. I had noticed her affection towards me was strained, our relationship slowly dwindled and gasped for air, coming alive in form of the most expensive diamond necklace my money could buy or when I got her a well paying job. I actually felt like it would never wane when I bought her a car. It did.
Martha, my close female Friend called her a "white elephant". I think she heard that phrase in a movie.

    It was a Tuesday afternoon, I was caught in the Lagos after-work traffic when Angela called. I held the phone in my hand as it rang and vibrated. Waiting for a few seconds before I picked. Nigerians do that, makes us seem like we have other things to do than pick phone calls.
I picked and waited for her to talk..
"Hello babe, how was work" she says in a worried tone
"Work was good love, how was the day"
Conversation these days were a torture.
"Fine" .. She replied
silence.
She hesitated, then spoke
"Fest-Tus, we need to talk"
"Oh, what about babe?"
"About our relationship. You see...."
I panicked and I switched off my phone, almost hitting the okada man in front of me.
I ignored him as he spread his fingers and pointed them at me.
Nothing good comes out of "we need to talk" in relationships.
Martha's last relationship ended with those same words.


Angela had wined and dined with me for years and now she wanted out. Martha had fed me rumours of her escapades with a new guy she wants to 'settle' with. But it does not happen, she cannot latch unto me, receiving love, affection and money whilst calling my name in return. I mean, I liked the way she called my name. But not to that extent.
Mum had started to look at me worriedly. I had lost my appetite, I had been reclused in my room. Of course, I lived with my parents, I couldn't spend that much on a woman and have an abode for myself. The stress was telling on my demeanor. My phone was still off, something had to be done and done fast.

On Thursday, I finally switched on my phone. I waited for ten seconds to receive any pending messages. It was the longest ten seconds of my life. My phone beeped, I had a heart attack but it was only MTN. She was mannered not to break it off over a text message. I dialled Martha's number and waited.

It rang twice, Martha didn't wait for the phone to ring. "Hello" she was chewing.
"Hi Martha, there is trouble in paradise" I said as I ran my hand through my hair
"The white elephant?" She was chewing gum.
"Yes, she said she wanted to talk"
"That hoe" she said, snickering
I broke down
"I don't know what to do"
"Hush Festus, she doesn't like public embarrassment..." She paused before she continued
"If you happen to propose to her in front of the whole church on Sunday, she would be forced to say yes"

"And if she says no?"

"Then the relationship is off. But to everybody, she is the devil and you are the victim, it will make things easier"

"But, can't I salvage the relationship?"

"The only thing you can salvage is your self esteem and not being the guy who was dumped"

Her reply cut me like a mishai's knife and I wept.
Even though Martha might be labelled dimwitted because she once threatened to commit suicide with the flat end of a fork when we were in our first year, she's had an affinity for lecherous schemes which made her a precious friend in hard times.


I texted her.
The text contained me inviting her for Sunday service with the family and promising we would talk after. I pressed send and held my breath. It was happening.

On the D-day, I wore my favourite Agbada. Got ready for church in a daze, I had, over time rehearsed the moment at which I would propose to her. It would be in front of the church immediately after the benediction and on my face would be worn the widest smile in the world. She would not want to disappoint.

The church was Pentecostal, Fola Collins who we called F.C paraded himself in front of the church as he handled Praise and Worship. F.C was as outspoken as he was literate, and he studied abroad. In Nigeria, that is usually tantamount to being very literate. I could sight Martha at the far extreme to my right, fastidious gossip, she was never one to miss an avenue like this.

    Halfway through the service, Angela strolled in and sat in Martha's vicinity. The plan was to inform F.C that the minister wife, who sat in front wanted to see her immediately after service. F.C was chosen for this because he had the ability to make even the most wanton of things seem urgent.
     I zoned out all through the service rehearsing my speech and thinking of the possible ways these Quixotic action would end. I also prayed about my predicament a bit. Frankly, I didn't think God was listening.

     As the benediction was said, F.C swung into action and I observed steadily as I brought out the wedding ring. A ring I had purchased years ago which set me back a few months salary. Immediately I saw her moving towards the Minister's wife seat in front. I pushed Old Mr Tafa who suffered a stroke last year out of my path and made my way briskly to the front of the church.
   My timing coincided with hers and I knelt in front of everybody with an ear to ear smile and asked.
 "All my life, I searched for a perfect soul mate, and I always knew I found her when I found you.
 Angela Oriowo, will you marry me?"
F.C, who was beaming behind her shouted
"Rooomanntic".

There was a five second pause and a loud thud.

She fainted.
I didn't move, I just stayed there on one knee while they tried to revive her.
She was experienced.


NB-

Hope you enjoyed this story, I had fun writing it. I have been a tad busy and lazy. Might turn the Festus thing into a series if feedback is good. Once again, thanks for reading.