I was too weak to walk alone. The death of my daughter had drained me off any energy I had left. Memories began to flash through my mind. I could see her running round the house laughing. Oh, how beautiful her smile was. I will never have the chance to tell her what she meant to me. These flashes and thoughts brought about another burst of tears that brought me to the ground in the parking lot. “My baby. Why my baby?” I said with a soft voice as I cried deeply. “She’s in a better place baby” my husband said as he helped me up again and into the car.
The drive home was cold and silent. No music from the radio. No conversation. No laughs. No little girl. In an attempt to support me, Tola gently reached across and held my hand gently. “We’ll be okay, Ayo. God knows best” he said. I couldn’t even relate to that statement. I had become shut off from my emotions. When we arrived at home, it no longer felt the same. It had become a mere house to me. And in the months to come, my husband had to bear my torturous distance. But he kept trying. He bought me flowers sometimes when he came back from work. I watched them wither as a reminder of how my daughter withered from this tree called life. He sent me sweet messages to let me know he loved me no matter what. “I hope you come back to me soon” he said in his last message this afternoon. I loved him for trying but was never the same from the day of my daughter’s death.
April 13, 2017. I woke up with a lighter heart. I kissed my husband for the first time since our daughter died. He embraced me so hard and whispered “Welcome home, hunny. I’ve missed you so much”. My heart melted at those words. Thank you God for blessing me with such a great man.
He left for work that morning and asked what I wanted him to get me to celebrate my return. “Surprise me” I responded. He smiled and kissed me before he left. I called in at work and was given the rest of the week off. They were glad to hear I was gonna be back soon. I turned on the television and heard the most beautiful lyrics I had heard. “Hold, hold on. Hold on to me. I’m a little unsteady”. I thought of my husband and all he had done. I had been so distant but he tried. “I must appreciate him” I thought to myself. I texted him to hurry home cause I wanted him. I attached a little teasing image with that text and proceeded to prepare myself for my glorious night. He replied the message saying he couldn’t wait and assured me I would love the surprise he had got for me. Felt exciting to look forward to something again.
I was already anxious as I waited for my husband’s return when I got a call from Kunbi. “You have to come to the hospital now. It’s an emergency” she said and dropped the call immediately. “Why did it have to be now? This girl’s wahala sef” I thought to myself as I dressed up. What her she gotten herself into this time?Upon arrival at the hospital, I saw her outside waiting and wondered why she had called me if she wasn’t in trouble. “I’m sorry, Ayo. They did the best they could” she said as she hugged me tight. “What are you on about? Please I need to hurry back home. Tola and I already have something planned out” I said as I let out a naughty smile. But that made her face even more depressing. “What is it, Kunbi? Talk now” I said anxiously. “It’s Tola. He was in a very terrible accident on his way back from the jewellers. He called me to help him get you this bracelet and on our way back, his tyre burst and he skidded into an electric pole” she said as she let out some tears and handed me the bracelet. “To the joy of my life and the beat of my heart. -Love, Tola”.
It couldn’t be. This must be a prank. I ran in and saw them covering his body. His face was deeply cut and they just took out a metal shard from his stomach. I passed out. When I woke up, I believed I probably had a terrible dream. I was on a hospital bed. This wasn’t a dream. Life had dealt a heavier blow and this time there was no way to fix my broken heart. I wailed bitterly. “Was I destined to have such a miserable life?” I thought to myself. Why do I have to go through this again? It was my fault. If I hadn’t rushed him, he’ll still be alive. If I hadn’t felt better, he’ll still be by my side. My baby was taken from me. My husband was no more. What do I have to live for? I was taken in by Kunbi. I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t bear that much torture. What was I to do?
April 20, 2017. Here I am. Standing by my husband’s grave. Watching as he is lowered six feet into the ground. This is the end. At least I kissed his lips one last time. But after today, I will never feel his arms around me. Never feel his lips on mine again. The tears kept flowing. My throat dry from the pain and anguish that I felt. Will I be able to go on? Will I find strength? Can I live on? I do not know but I will try. My advice to you, my dear reader, live now. Cherish what you have and don’t let past hurts determine your life. Live now. Love more. Laugh most. And with all the sincerity in my heart, I say that I may not know you and I may never meet you but I love you.