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Writer: margaretchinaza Title: Letters from Obodoyinbo Prompt:Romance [Photo: aboya.8| Instagram]
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18 avenue Keith road, Hashing town, London. 25th of September, 1957.
To my dear wife, Obiajulu,
I send this message with greetings and love from the depths of my heart. I hope you are fine and all is well with our unborn child?
It has been so long since we last spoke; I know you were filled with apprehension about my journey and my arrival in this strange country where everyone has pale skin with very few dark-skinned people. I get a curious look from people around each time I pass on the streets, the pavements smooth and well tarred.
But I do miss the dirty red earth of our village square, the place I first set my eyes on you.
Your dark skin shimmering under the sun, glowing like the refined gold Papa Ochuko the blacksmith made for the rich. You were like the pearls that shone on the fat necks of the congressman's wives, except you represented such affluence with your proud walk and a dignified poise without expensive pearls laced around your smooth slender neck.
Do you remember the first time we met? I could feel my heart trying to come out of my chest, the sound in my ears resembling the drumming sounds of the muscular drummer's hands beating the drum during the annual new yams festival. You were the most beautiful maiden my eyes has ever landed on. The sharpness of your glare and the upturn of your lips at the sight of me.
I tried that day to muster the courage to tell you my feelings, Obim, but you were like a lioness ready to pounce on me for wasting your time. Your tongue was as saucy as the hot pepper soup Mama served her guest--hot enough to ruin my ego as a man, but you made me realise my ego was nothing if I am in love with you, so is my cowardice.
I mustered the courage that night and sent you my first letter telling you how I really felt. I was so nervous I nearly died when writing that letter, the trepidation of sending it to the famous Chief's daughter, Adaobi, the most beautiful maiden in the village hitting hard on me. But I sent it to you feeling anxious.
Days after, no response. Father said I must be a man and accept the rejection life threw at me and I did. So I thought, until you came to me that fateful day under the Mango tree at the wrestling grounds and handed me a letter expressing how you were touched by my amateur love letter to you. I bought roasted yam, sharing it with you while listening to the tales of how you want a man to love and cherish you.
Ofunaya'm, I miss you a lot, and recalling our memories is a way I cope. Take care of yourself, my love. I await your reply.
From your love, Uche.
• • •
Writer: Prevail_mc Title: Twirls Of The Heart Prompt:Romance [Photo: aboya.8| Instagram]
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Elinor Jack was drowned in the afrobeat that blared out of the speakers of LEEDS restaurant, as she sat patiently waiting for him to arrive.
She had been waiting for some minutes but there was no sign of the ocean-eyed, caramel-skinned man that stood as tall as could ever be imagined, around.
As usual, she was the patient one. Always waiting for him to be there for her. Always waiting for him to come to his senses and act his age.
Could she wait any longer?
Certainly, he was bound to be snail-paced in all aspects of his life.
"I must have kept you waiting," Her right hand was raised a bit, only to be met with wet kisses. "I'm sorry."
Elinor stared at her man. All that ran through her mind was if she would have her dream ending with him. The same man who ruined her.
Chike had impregnated her when she was just sixteen and left to Ibadan where he furthered his studies, leaving her to the merciless hands of both parents and society.
He never returned, till three years ago when they collided at Prowess Mall. There, they had talked things out and decided to move forward.
Now, she was twenty-six. Still untouched by another man but him. Still that tiny soul who had a large fraction of her life wasted.
What was he waiting for? Wasn't he tired of keeping her waiting?
This time around, if he didn't make moves, she would do away with him. Not minding who got hurt at the end.
"C-Chike--" Her voice faltered, not knowing how to voice out her thoughts without sounding desperate. And someone as self-conscious as she was never wanted the situation where her words would be used against her in the future.
"What's running through your mind?" The baritone voice of Chike intruded her thoughts, reminding her of his presence across the table.
Elinor would have responded 'Us.' But she knew better than letting out that response. She was tired of listening to his 'not ready to be that committed', excuse.
"Nothing." She spat out, suddenly mad at herself for not having enough guts to let him know her mind.
"That's a lie," Chike sighed, pushing his chair closer to the table. His gaze on her was intent and soft. "And you know it."
She couldn't bring herself to look back at him. She would get lost in his ocean eyes which was a very rare trait of his race, knowing fully well that she would be spellbound.
"You like me," She began, like she was stating the obvious fact and he nodded. "But where do you see us in the next few years?"
Chike sighed. He wasn't ready to be a husband. But he had long decided that he wouldn't keep Elinor any longer in the waiting room.
"In my arms, babe. With two kids adding more glee to our lives." He whispered softly.
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