When I was little, my elder brother told me that the world would come to an end some day; that life and death as we know it will have a different meaning entirely.
I asked him what would happen after the end comes. He replied, “I guess in the end we’ll start to think of the beginning; a new beginning.” I never quite understood what he meant; I don’t think I really understood many of the things he said to me while he was alive.
I was really young. He was clearly a different being; one with a profound insight into affairs pertaining to life, humanity and existence. I was nothing like him. He had all the answers, I asked all the questions; his state of mind was almost perfect, and I made all the mistakes. Perhaps that’s why he died at such a young age, because his mind had lived a hundred years already, or more.
I’ve made mistakes, like leaving Tony, and I still make mistakes. I guess that’s part of what makes me human. I wish my brother was alive, he would have surely been able to advice me on what to do now, on how to go about things. He always had the answers.
Two days before my trip back home, I went through some of my old stuffs. I found a picture of Cindy and I back in high school. We lost contact almost as soon as we left high school.
Life was different for me after my father died. A lot of things changed afterwards and our friendship suffered. In all, I guess life took its toll on both of us, and we just went our separate ways, dealing with our individual predicament.
I still remember the night before our graduation; she shared with me her deepest secret. She cried as she explained to me in details, about the pain and agony she endured that night.
That was the night her father raped her. We both cried as she told me what happened. When I saw the picture again, that night before graduation was the first thing I remembered. I cried again. How can a man be so cruel as to rape his own daughter? I don’t think even my late brother would have been able to answer that question.
I set out on the path of recovery. To get back all that I have lost- my friendship with Cindy and more importantly, my relationship with Tony. But as they say, hope for the best, but expect the worst; either way, it’s a risk I am willing to take. And so I walked on; inspired by my desire, but blinded by my desperation.
On the plane back to Nigeria, I sat next to this young lady; she said her name was Martha. We got talking and I spilled a lot about myself, including my relationship with Tony and the awkward scenario that led to my departure, and also about my desire to have him back at any cost.
Along the course of our discussion, we got really close, and I found out she knew Seun. I believed her. She said she was the daughter to the Commissioner of Agriculture for Ondo state, the same state Seun was from.
They used to be good friends, thanks to their fathers’ political relationship. Their friendship lasted, until Seun betrayed her. Surprisingly, or maybe not, the crux of the matter was a guy. At least that was what she told me. They had both met the dude at the same time. Seun seemed uninterested, but Martha made it clear to Seun that she was interested in the fellow.
To cut long story short, she said she dated the guy for about three months, till she found out that he had been cheating on her with Seun. She confronted Seun and they had a fight. When they could not resolve their issues, they went their separate ways.
There was no way I could’ve verified her story, my desperation made me very gullible. I believed her wholly, so that by the time we landed at the Murtala Muhammed airport in Lagos, we had already formulated a plan to get back at Seun. I was happy. I was sure of victory, seeing that I had an edge, an old enemy who had become my good and trusted friend.
To be continued
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