Ayobola hurried into her room rummaged through her bag and brought out her phone, unlocking it, she swiped it up and clicked on Google and her fingers danced on the keyboard, typing ‘What is the meaning of AKUDAYA?’ and the result brought out; “A supernatural entity reputed to live on as incarnate being in a place after being concurrently affirmed as a dead”.
On seeing this, she took off her 32-inch bone-straight wig with beads of sweat forming on her forehead, she shook her head in shock and rubbed her slightly protruding belly in fear. She wouldn’t have believed it but Baba, her grandfather confirmed it some minutes ago, he had earlier told Bola after they had finished watching a Yoruba movie titled ‘ABARAMEJI’ that AKUDAYA is the spirit of someone who has been confirmed dead in one place but goes to live elsewhere.
She minimized her phone and clicked on the gallery, on a file named “SWEET GALE”, every picture there failed to show, it was all blank. To be assured she wasn’t hallucinating, she scrolled down to the ones she took with him, and to her surprise, it showed only her. She cupped her palm over her mouth and breathed desperately, her throat choked and her eyes blurred. How was she going to tell her grandparents? That the man she had spent the past months with was a reincarnate?
Minutes crept by while she stood still with beads of sweat falling off her forehead, she became afraid and she plunged her arms to herself. There seemed absolutely nothing to do so she continued looking palely and she reminiscences the past months.
“May I take you to dinner again?” Babajide asked Ayobola with a peaceful, pleasant face and her face, broadened into a smile with faintly discernable happiness lining it and she nodded affirmatively.
Ayobola, a young promising medical doctor, in her mid-twenties, had met Babajide, a fair-complexioned guy with deep dimples as a patient in the hospital where she worked. Jide was reported to have encountered an accident in which he had sustained a minor but fragile injury beneath his bearded jaw and Ayobola who found the situation funny had him treated under her close supervision. Some weeks later, the duo bumped into each other in a supermarket and exchanged contact. From receiving night calls, and text messages, and walking each other home late at night, they became fond of each other and finally agreed to go on a date with each other.
“Yeah, I’ll gladly go out with you again”, Bola blushed and Jide leaned across his car seat and kissed Bola full on her lips. “Goodnight”, he whispered as Ayobola alighted.
To cut a long story short, Babajide and Ayobola became inseparable. Whenever Bola was off duty, they would both go on romantic strolls to beaches and amusement parks where Bola would sit and listen to Jide play the piano. They were both in love and it was boldly written all over them.
“I must go home tonight”, Bola said picking up her bag. Jide got up and made his way to the front door and opened it. A tremendous blast from the sky threw Bola into Jide’s strong arms. It wasn’t only dark by 10:05 pm but it seemed the cloud was pregnant and the space was roving with the wind. “It seems the gods want you to stay overnight”, Jide teased in a jocular tone and Bola hit his chest playfully, the two lover birds went back in and after several thunderstorms and lightenings, it began to rain heavily.
They both stood silent for a moment, then a gentle hand fell on Bola’s arm, she stared up and her face was met by Jide’s irresistible pair of eyes. Jide’s shoulders bent and he kissed her gently on her forehead. Bola, with a bright face, let Jide draw her quietly into his hot embrace and he moistened her lips. They went on and on and smooched till they got to Jide’s room. Lights off!
“Are you sure you want to leave now?” Babajide lay half-naked with a foamy duvet covering his body and Bola’s, asked impatiently peering into his wristwatch that was lying somewhere around the bed. “Yea, I’ve got to be at the hospital as early as 6:00 am tomorrow”, Bola replied trying to hide the anger sketched with sadness in her voice as she pulled off the duvet from her body, her eyes scanned through Babajide’s room and disappointment displayed itself on her face.
“This?” Jide handed over to her bra and she snatched it from him. Even though it had rain and it was still drizzling outside, Bola felt hot and fanned herself with her hands in discomfort. Jide made for the switch and turned on the light which got Bola blinking repeatedly as she immediately pulled the duvet to cover her naked body Jide gave her a “what’s the point” sort of eye which she ignored and rushed into the bathroom with the huge duvet on her body. Standing under the shower, she watched the cool water kiss her skin as more warm reddish fluid exited her vagina. She scrubbed herself hard in tears as if to wash off the shame she was feeling at the moment. How could she? What was wrong with her? She had left her previous boyfriends all in the name of keeping her pride and dignity and respecting her mother’s wish. Now she had given it to Jide with no bargain. Was she out of her senses? Was she under a spell or something?
“Babe, are you there?” Jide voiced out after expecting her for what seemed like forever and the shower had stopped running. Bola sniffed in her tears and sneaked out of the bathroom as though she was running away from Jide’s gaze. Jide understood better and looked elsewhere to allow her to dress up.
He coughed into his fist to break the long silence and he reached across the bed and laid his hand on Bola, she flinched, despite trying hard not to react to his touch that sparked through her like a bolt of electricity. She swallowed heavily but the lump in her throat wouldn’t budge instead more tears streamed down. Jide made no effort to touch her anymore but moved closer to her. “You should have told me, babe, you could have stopped me, I never knew… Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, look, baby, I’m sorry”, Jide apologized calmly. “It’s fine, I just want to go”, Bola’s voice squeaked as she looked down in shame. “Seriously, are you sure you are okay? You don’t have to leave now, I can drop you off as early as 5:00 am at your place tomorrow”, Jide said with concern sketching his voice. She nodded and made for the bedsheet that had a huge bloodstain on it. “I’ll get it dry-cleaned, okay?” Jide withdrew it from her.
She silently headed to his little parlour and stepped on her left earring by the doorway which she picked up in abashment. She picked up her bag and reached for the door. “Ayobola, it’s 12:10 am already, can you not stay back?” Jide asked gently and Bola looked into his eyes, more alarmed by the fact that Jide called her by her name, Yeah, Babajide had only called Ayobola using terms of endearment, she had never heard him call her ‘Ayobola’. Her head spun to the numerous novels she had read where the guys would change after getting the ladies into bed with them. She looked closely at Babajide once more and left silently.
She shed bitter tears throughout the night and blamed herself. She never knew Jide too well to have offered him her body, all she could remember was that she was drunk in love with him. She refused to pick up his calls for weeks and strictly abstained from him. Even when Babajide had texted that he needed to see her urgently she had bluntly refused to go see him.
As fate would have it, she discovered herself pregnant after two months when Babajide had stopped trying to get in touch with her. She called him but the automated tone told her that the number didn’t exist. She went to his house in search of him only to meet a couple who told her they didn’t know anyone by the name Babajide, they further told her that they’d been living in the house for years and they only went on a vacation two months ago. This got Ayobola speechless and she made more enquiries on every place she went with Babajide but there was no trace of him. Bola became furious that she blamed herself for not even knowing anyone with Jide, not even his parents or his friends, he had always been alone. Now, what story would she tell her unborn child? She had disappointed her late mother who warned her to keep her dignity and never to repeat history.
“No!” Ayobola screamed and rolled on her bed, now, she must believe, for she had seen, heard, and experienced. Bàbájide was truly a reincarnate and yes, an incarnate of love.
Omoooo, this is serious