DECISIONS

We’ve all made decisions in life and either it is right or wrong, it’s dependent on the outcome of those decisions. The truth is life doesn't allow a free flow of triumph around us all. Our efforts need to count and the distractions that affect us are later called indecisions. There are lots of things as humans we cannot decide. All through childhood through teenage hood decisions were made for us. Adulthood gave the power of choices to many of us. It was an invention to a lot of us thus making a mistake was a regular. The hardest decision I’ve ever had to make was the one I am about either regretting or going through with it.

Marriage: a passage rite for all through which we transform from single to married; A conviction of a life time with or without stress; an acceptance of a partner in whom your existence lay and finally a decision that can make you or mar you if it ends up being wrong. 

The stage is set already, marriage classes are over. The Aso Ebi and souvenirs had been rolled in. Donations were coming in from family friends and well wishers. Prayers were being rendered to make the day a wonderful day. The event planner can’t just stop calling me. The hall was designed in 3d and I saw the splendor of the day. My wedding gown is a marvel made in Italy and shipped into Nigeria. For the first time in my life my step mum was fully part of something that was going to be a success to me. I loved the tension going on around the house and one major thing I was so sure of was “sex would now be legalized”.

The makeup lady (Ngozi) just walked into my room to check the colours to be used in less than four days time. She is a very lovely person and her advices her heavenly. I know I wouldn’t mind someone like that as a sister but I never really had a sister; only step sisters. The gadgets she brought out were much and I wondered if all these were to be applied to my face just to be a diva on my wedding day. We joked a little about how I felt getting married and she rolled in her advices again. When it’s close to wedding days my dear lots of temptations arise. Just try to be calm she said.

The colours were marching except for my nails. I didn’t like the acrylics she proposed. In the middle of those deliberations my phone rang. The number looked like one I knew ever since but the voice was alien after I said hello. The lady on the other side lacked a little courtesy as she went on to ask if I was Sheila Bello. I said yes surprisingly at who knew me and I never knew. She went on: my name is Helen and I don’t intend to spoil your day to come pretty soon. I have a four year old son for the man you are about to get married to. And I just thought it right to let you know he has not been a good father to his son. Even though we aren’t married; the promises Desmond made to me before he travelled to UK for his masters were divine. I scrambled around and gave him all I have and could borrow. Our relationship was four years old at that time and he got me pregnant as a conviction to show he wasn’t leaving me forever. He came back when I delivered and since those two weeks he had spent with his son; the next picture I saw of him was on his wedding card. I don’t intend to get married to him any longer though but I’m just scared for you because you might be getting into marriage with a man you practically don’t know. The wrong decisions I made about Desmond are regrets I’ve grown past right now but be careful.

The line went off and immediately I discovered I was fading away. Ngozi rushed towards me and faintly I heard her shouting help. I didn’t do that intentionally but in five minutes I was up and stable. They kept on asking what happened and I said nothing. I pulled myself together and told everyone to leave me with Ngozi. I narrated the story to her and we decided it was nice to call the girl back. It was the second call that she picked. I was subtle in my voice as I begged her to visit me if she was in the same town just to confirm what she was saying. She agreed as I gave her my address and she said in thirty minutes she would be in my house. I dressed up at least to impress whoever my boyfriend got pregnant and thirty minutes on the dot I heard a car horn at my gate. I told Musa to open the gate for her and surprisingly a range rover sport drove in and a lady in her late twenties stepped out of it. She turned to the other side to open the door for his son and the look on the boy’s face showed he was (Desmond junior).

Helen is practically the finest lady I’ve ever met. Lovely height and a physique that later on even affected my dad and his friends. I walked over to her and escorted her into the sitting room. The look on everybody’s face changed when they saw the little boy and the question was “don’t tell me Desmond has a child”? ….. The truth I won’t tell you because you just found out.