#8
Self, I think I'm finally going to get around to it. Remember hubby has been hounding me about writing our story. And we do have something beautiful together, don't we? You know the reason I've been hesitating don't you? Yes, you do self. I've been too jealous and possessive of what we have to want to share. But sometimes we forget. I don't want that to happen. I don't want to search the recesses of my mind and poke through the folds of my memory for those magical moments. So here goes:
Our Story
September 8th 2005. NYSC temporary orientation camp, Okada Grammar School, Okada, Edo State, Nigeria.
B was sitting on a bench in one of the classrooms that was being used as registration hall. There were hundreds of would be corpers milling around clutching white files that contained academic transcripts and all other relevant documents. The sun bore down hard, the heat unbearable, making it difficult to comprehend the madness. Outside there were several queues that snaked all the way around the block. A handful of disorganized camp officials were struggling to contain a volcano of frustrated corpers from erupting.
I was being tossed from desk to desk. As a foreign student my center didn't follow the order of local universities. I must have been ambling around the hall seeking reprieve from the sweltering heat when our eyes met. The first thing I remember about B is his smile. Not all, but a particular smile. The kind you want to frame and hang on your wall because you only experience it once yet want the memory to live on forever.
When our eyes met he flashed me a coy, non-committal yet acknowledging smile. The kind that creeps unto your face when you're unexpectedly caught staring. Coming from a seven year old, it would have made you want to ruffle his hair affectionately. Coming from him, my world tilted a teensy bit.
Not knowing what to do I nodded at him and walked it off. Hoping he'd go away yet not wanting him to disappear.
To be continued...
07/07/2007
