The Marriage Pact

*Hey guys. Thanks for all your kind comments on my previous post. I'd just like to clear the air on something I noticed. I think a lot of people assumed I became depressed as a result of my broken engagement. Ehhhh....no.

My depression happened in 2011. My engagement and the breaking of same happened in 2014.

I didn't feel comfortable putting that trying time on my blog back in 2011.  Robin William's suicide prompted the discourse and I just felt it was important for people to know they didn't have to end it to be free and share some of what I went through and how I came out.

To allay all your concerns, I'd like to categorically state that I am coping very well with the break of the engagement. I strongly believe it was the best thing for both of us. I may at some point in the future, reflect on what led to the demise of that relationship but out of respect for him and for my own healing process, I won't do so right now...if ever!

Sorry for the off tangent clarification. I just felt it was important to clear the air on that. Those of you that have me on suicide watch...relax...please. Lol. Your concerns, emails and prayers are touching. Blogsville is one of the best places to be and you guys are awesomesauce. Thank you all so much.

So...let's get on with the story.

***********************************************************************************************************

This is a story I'm still tinkering with. I'm not quite sure what the conclusion is yet but we'll all find out together! Happy reading!!! 

Illustration by Dan Markowitz (Fickle Theatre) for www.defectivity.com

 I have known Obinna for many  years. We met in secondary school and he was such a jerk! Obinna is what you would call a man's man. Ladies loved him because he was hawt and oh so rich. Guys loved him because he could hang and he was oh so rich.

 In SS1, his 16th Birthday present was a Toyota Celica. Remember those??? He would pull up to school in his red Celica and all the girls would swoon...well... apart from me of course. I was determined to hate his guts and hate I did. If you made the mistake of swooning about Obinna near me, you would regret it. I would fix you with a death stare and ask you why you had cotton wool for brains and could not see that the the boy was a pathological idiot.

SS3 rolled around and we were sitting the school leaving certificate exam. The first paper of the examination was Biology. I turned up in the lab and found myself seating next to  Obinna. I cursed his surname that day.  Stupid name that allowed him sit next to me! He said 'hi'and I returned a tight lipped greeting his way. That was the extent of the conversation. Day three of the exam was Mathematics. Like most people, I hate maths. I was sweating it out trying to remember one formular or the other while jerk boy was in the corner slapping fives and being the general joker. Oh did I mention that he was smoking hot bookwise as well? It was totally unfair to be so rich, so good looking and so brainy. He took his seat next to me and he could see I was sweating buckets without even seeing the exam paper yet.

'Dami, calm down, it is only maths' he said with his characteristic side grin.

I wondered how he remained intact as my eyeing level was at point incineration.

'Woah! Calm down! I was only trying to help' he said. 'You know what, I sense you don't like me at all and I don't know why'.

'Obinna, this is not even the time nor the place for this discussion but you are right, I don't like you at all. So, just keep quiet and let me revise in peace' I responded.

'Ok, but this is not the end of this conversation. But to redeem myself for whatever wrong I have done to you, you can look in my exam paper if you get stuck. I promise not to tell' he laughed.

I am ashamed to say I took him up on his offer to copy him a little bit and he was gentleman enough not to cover his answer sheet or tell on me. We finished SSCE, I got a C6 in maths, He got an A1  and we moved on.

It was three years down the line, I won an American Visa Lottery and I had just relocated to Texas to start a new life. I was waiting in line at the Financial Aids Office at the University of Texas at Arlington when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said 'Damilola Osunde' in a deep baritone. I turned around and squealed "Obinna Osuji!!!!!! wow! What are you doing here????" We hugged like we were long lost friends, the "foreigner in a strange land meets fellow traveller"  syndrome immediately taking effect. He informed me that he was a junior at UT Arlington and insisted on taking me to lunch so we could catch up.

At lunch, he wanted to know why I disliked him so much in secondary school. I told him he was swollen headed, thought he was all that plus change and he had splashed water on me in his Celica in second term SS1 and never said sorry. He threw his head back and laughed long and hard and said 'Don't lie, you wanted to be my babe abi? You thought I was cute. I could see it in your eyes.'

I couldn't help laughing and a wonderful friendship was born.

Obinna was Secretary of the ASA in UTA and he co-opted me into the society. He was still hawt and all the girls wanted to be Mrs. Osuji...all except me. I would tease him mercilessly especially about Eme, the dirtiest girl in the whole of UTA. She was so enamoured by Obi that it was rumoured that at the sound of his voice, her ever present sweat patch would get even larger and she would begin to emit what we all liked to call "Obi's special pheromones". 

It was all fun and games. 

Obi was still a ladies man  and dated off and on in school. He would always hide out at mine when he had finished with some poor girl and she was looking for him to break his head. I didn't date much in school. Every time Obi came to hang out he would say

"Dami-dying-to-die-an-old maid...how have you not found any boyfriend in the whole of UTA?" My response always veered between a withering look, a gerrout or a shut up. He would continue "I know it will be up to me to save you from yourself...so if I am not married by 35 and you are still single by 35, I will do you the honour of marrying you" and we would laugh it off.

This continued for many years with UTA replaced with Goldman Sachs and Google respectively. Obi and I would make time to hang out once every month, often taking mini city breaks and he would restate the pact. As a joke, one year for valentine's day, he gave me a notarized document, it was the pact! He had gotten it drawn up and notarized and he whipped it out of the box with flourish. The document stated as follows:

The bearer of this document is Oluwadamilola Osunde.

Where the bearer continues to be hopeless in the affairs of her love life and keeps shooting herself in the foot with cupid's arrow till she's 35, I, Obinna Osuji (the donor of this document, also known as Obi the Gallant and Obi the Chivalrous, amongst others) would swoop in and save her from herself, by proposing marriage to her and making an honest woman out of her (and her greying ovaries) on or before her 35th Birthday which is a month before mine, which event would take place in the year 2014.

We both thought it was funny, we laughed hysterically, the document was framed and took pride of place above my fire place.

In a short while, 30 was upon the both of us. Obi carried on his useless dating ways while I carried on with my more often than not single ways.

But a strange thing had happened...over the six year period ushering out our twenties, I had started to buy into the marriage pact! I didn't know when the long running joke became a real and big deal to me. I didn't have any awareness of the fact that I was waiting in the wings to be Mrs. Osuji...till the events of 2010 put my whole fantasy into jeopardy.

Obi had always dated a certain type of girl and I was safe and secure in the knowledge that these girls would not last because they were essentially the same girl with different names. They were tall, tan, athletic, huge breasted, big yanshed and vapid. Very good to look at but the lights were usually on and no one was home. They bore, in my opinion, made up names like Vista, Treasure, Kency (an amalgamation of Kenneth and Stacy...I kid you not) etc.

In January, 2010, Obi was away working in the London Offices of Google. He kept telling me about some Naija-American chick in the London office named Joy. Joy was his tour guide and she was a ton of fun. He returned to America and there was no further word of Joy till early summer when the bombshell that would rock my entire world was dropped by the pronouncement "Joy is moving here...she got a job in my office!".

The first time I met Joy, I knew our pact was in a whole heap of trouble. Joy was the farthest thing from Obi's usual. She was a petite 5"3, a pretty face, a keen mind and a great sense of humour. The look in Obi's eyes when she spoke was only comparable to when a dying man is found in the desert and is given his first mouthful of water and tries to communicate his thanks whilst lapping up the water with all he has left. I had never seen him look at and be so attuned to someone like that in the whole of my life. For the first time in...ever, I WAS  a third wheel in Obi's relationship!!!!

This did not bode well for our pact.

To be continued

*********************************************************************************************************************

© 2014 All rights reserved. No portion of this shall be printed and reproduced without my express permission as I hear blogsville is a dangerous place these days.