Drama in the Hall again
He tossed and turned so many times on his uncomfortable bed. Why was it taking so long for sleep to wrap its warm hands around him? He got up from his bed and walked to the hall. He opened the refrigerator and brought out a sealed bottle. He opened the bottle and gobbled up its content, replacing the half emptied bottle back into the refrigerator. Then he sighed and went back into his room. The events of that day crawled back into his mind. Was that really his Nyamekye? She had transformed beyond recognition and he barely recognized her. Yes, it had been a while. But wasn’t her transformation rather too fast? He was surprised he couldn’t make her out. “Hmmm,” he sighed and in no time, he was transferred into the realms of slumber.
The coffee-brown partition had been replaced with one of a brick-red colour. There was no old wooden cupboard. Instead, there was a three set grounded cabinet consisting of two simple boxes and a three set of drawers in the middle. The first drawer contained cutleries, knives and laddles; the second drawer contained all the plates while the third contained the bowls. One of the simple boxes consisted of the cooking utensils and the other contained foodstuff–yam tubers, riped plantains and onions. Two neatly folded napkins lay on the cabinet, and beside it was an oval tray; on it, four drinking glasses turned upside down. A mini refrigerator occupied the space beside the cabinet. The room was cool, despite the warm atmosphere the fresh orange painting in the room evoked. He sat in the couch, arms folded, as he scanned the new changes in the room. She emerged from behind the partition, in a hot denim skirt and a blue strapless top. Then she walked nonchalantly towards the couch and sat at its far end without looking at her visitor nor greeting him. Auntie Efua had told her she had a visitor and left the two. For a moment, there was silence. Then slowly, he began, clearing his throat first.
“I know I shouldn’t be here, I know. I know I shouldn’t be speaking to you right now. I don’t deserve your love. Although you were good to me and sacrificed your all for me, I was unappreciative and I did the worse–I broke all my promises. I admit I was childish and I hurt you badly. But I sincerely regret everything I’ve done.” He paused and lowered his head.
All this while, Nyamekye focused her eyes on the ceiling, as though she was expecting something to fall from above, without blinking nor pausing to look at his face. Then he resumed, bending his knees and crawling towards Nyamekye at the other end of the couch.
“Please find a place in your heart to forgive me.” He was remorseful.
But Nyamekye didn’t lower her head to look at him even for a second. She stayed in that position for a while; then he rose slowly and left pathetically. After a while, Auntie Efua came back into the room and met Nyamekye still in her frozen state, with her eyes up the ceiling. She sat beside her and patted her shoulders.
“Auntie Efua, why did you allow him in, knowing very well I wouldn’t be glad seeing him?”
“Nyamekye,” she consoled her, “everyone makes mistakes in this life. Whether we like it or not, people will step on our toes–people will offend us, people will hurt us–especially, those we care about the most. If we harbor those pains and fail to heal, eventually, we would bleed not only on those who hurt us, but also on those who care about us. Do you think that will be fair to them?”
She was expecting an answer but Nyamekye was silent. Although she didn’t move her lips, it was obvious that she was listening and meditating on Auntie Efua’s words.
“Obviously not,” Auntie Efua continued to reason with her “I made that mistake and I don’t want you to do same. That guy was remorseful. You know I don’t like him that much, so saying he was remorseful means he really was. I advise you rethink your decision and give him another chance. If you’re unable to do that, you would not be able to give another guy a chance. Whether you accept him or not, just know this: those you love will continue to hurt you. And you must learn to forgive them. Otherwise, you would remain as I have.”
With this final words, she left Nyamekye alone and went outside to continue with the preparation of her food. Nyamekye dashed into the inner room, buried her face in her pillow and sobbed quietly. Because deep down, she knew she had lingering desires for her one and only–Nhyira Nana Kwesi Frimpong but she was still hurt.