Write to Right

Episode 59
The Weight of Mercy
©️ Rosemary Oghenerobo

Hauwa turned and walked away, and with every step she took, something inside me clenched tighter. Her mother shook her head and muttered, “Sorry.” I gave a small nod. I couldn’t blame her. I couldn’t even blame Hauwa.

The truth was, I’d been a jerk.

Sulking, afraid and lost in the shame of my own emotions, like I had no right to feel anything for her but it took a firm, slightly hilarious push from Rev. Makinde, the chapel Reverend on campus to snap me out of my self-pity.

"My wife's backside was a strong point of distraction and attraction for me,” he had said, chuckling with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "I thought she was possessed to ruin me! Infact, I used to keep some distance between us when we were courting. Ah, it was torture but my father told me, "If I was sure she was mine, I should marry her quickly rather than burn with lust.”

He laughed, but then he leveled me with a serious gaze. “Attraction isn’t a bad thing, son. It’s a good thing. It’s part of the strong appeal that makes you want to be with someone, or do you want to marry a woman you’re only discussing careers and prayers with? This thing called love and marriage, it’s a complete package. If you’re certain about her, then walk past your guilt and go for your woman.”

That conversation had broken something open in me. I realized my attraction to her wasn’t entirely a bad thing, I only needed to honour our conviction and ensure we do things the right way. Now, watching Hauwa disappear ahead of me, I realized just how much I could lose if I didn’t act fast.

I picked up my pace and followed her. I had no clue where she was going, but I didn’t care. I just needed to be near her. She didn’t acknowledge me. She didn’t slow down. Her steps were fast, purposeful-angry but I stayed beside her, matching her stride in silence.

Then, as if on cue, the clouds began to gather, thick and low. The wind rose suddenly, tossing dust and leaves around us like we were in the middle of a desert storm. Hauwa lifted her hand to shield her face. I saw her eyes narrow against the grit, her body leaning forward as the gust picked up.

Without thinking, I reached for her hand and led her to the only cover in sight, a large tree on the side of the road. We barely made it before the rain broke loose.The heavens opened in angry sheets. I tried to shield her with my arms, but we were both drenched within seconds. Still, I held her close, wrapping my body protectively around hers, shielding her bump instinctively.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away.

Then, above the roar of the rain, her voice came, sharp, angry, and broken. “Why did you come?”

I looked at her, truly looked at her. Water traced her cheeks like tears.

“Because I love you,” I said, my voice firm but soft. “And I want to marry you.”

She turned her face away, lips pressed tightly together. I touched her chin gently, turning her face toward mine. Her eyes met mine, wide and wet.

“Will you marry me, Hauwa?” I whispered.

My heart beat like a war drum in my chest, the rain pouring, the wind howling but all I could see was her. Her silence was the loudest sound I’d ever heard.