Wednesday 29 August 2018

WILL YOU MARRY ME? BY AMADI NJOKU

The breezy wind that swept across the Essex beach was almost wintry cold. The Clacton-on-Sea with its spread of clean golden sand seem the perfect place for love birds. Here, Chinagorom was safe in the knowledge that he was in a world of infinite existence, a world lacking borders and barriers. He could not believe his luck! Before him was this slender and beautiful damsel of twenty eight, even the wind seemed to be in love with her for it kept blowing through her long blonde hair and scattering it on her face. Despite feeling discomfited by the prying gaze of onlookers, he thrust his right hand into his jean pocket, and knelt on the sand as his hand came out of his pocket to reveal a small transparent ring box. There couldn't have been a better time than now. He had seen moments like this in movies and novels. Now, he found himself doing it also.

His ultimate fear was that she would turn down his proposal. Was he doing the right thing? He asked himself. Finally he opened the box, pulled out the ring, and asked with imploring eyes:

'Will you marry me, Julie?' Already, he had begun sweating mildly on the forehead despite the cold breeze blowing across the beach. Seeing the ring, the many gazing pair of eyes had all stood up, hands clasped over wide open mouths, waiting to hear what her response would be.

Julie and Chinagorom had been next door neighbours for four years and nine months now, since Chinagorom arrived London to pursue a Masters degree in Fine Arts. Julie's father came from a long line of the old British Aristocratic class, his choice of a French woman with obscure origin for a wife caused his family to cut off links with him. That French woman is Julie's mother.

Julie was one Briton who had suffered series of broken relationships with Caucasian men. In actuality, she had been out of it more than she had been in it. Though she liked black men and had quite a few as casual friends, she had never wished to be in a romance with any, much less marrying him. Chinagorom had been one such casual friend who would later become intimate. She always discussed and shared many intimate issues with him whenever she visited his apartment and he was always eager to pay rapt attention to her.

'Chinagorom,' she had called him one day pronouncing the first syllable of his name as that of a country in East Asia, and said: 'I think I have made up my mind to remain unmarried. I don't mind being called an old maid. Men are a bunch of assholes and I don't wish to have anything to do with them anymore. Dammit!' She finished in one breath.

Before he said anything else, he spent a minute or two trying to tell her that it wasn't "Chai" as in China, but "Chi" as in SHE. They both laughed hysterically. In the end, he said as a friend would: 'Julie, your reason may be legitimate. But I think you still have not found a real lover who will love and respect you.'

Chinagorom was the type that always maintained the basis of his friendship with people. He grew up to know that friendship was like a handshake in which two parties mutually forwarded their hands in acceptance. Therefore, it would become something else the moment it extended beyond the wrist. He also knew that Julie loved him as a person but he felt he didn't have a cat in hell's chance of becoming her lover much less a spouse. His fears were not unrelated to his skin pigmentation, being of the black race of Africa.

Ever since he arrived the UK, he had often wondered why some people were overly rooted in personal predilection that walled the world we live in. The very reason why humanity is walled or divided into races and colour. He was sure that it's only love devoid of race and colour that can break in on this deeply rooted prejudice. For years he could not see himself telling Julie how much he loved her. He had to wait till Julie made the first move and kissed him one evening and that was the beginning of a more intimate relationship but whether she considered marriage was a thing he never could figure out. How he had waited for right time to make her his consort. But how would Julie even feel about it? This fear-filled question and more about his descent grew in him gradually like a tumor.

But on this day, Chinagorom's fears and uneasiness seemed to have disappeared all of a sudden and he saw himself break off from it. Yes! He felt like a hero of some sort.

'Will you marry me, Julie?' He asked politely for the second time, beckoning her to forward her hand in acceptance.

Gaping in surprise, she stood and cupped her widely open mouth with the palms of her hands. She could not believe her eyes. It was a bolt from the blues to her.  She had come to love him so much but never considered marriage with him. His courage and tenacity overwhelmed her. Happily, she plucked her left hand from her mouth and forwarded it to him. And then, she levered him up to his feet.
With an unrestrained joy of fulfilment, Chinagorom gently pulled her close to himself, tugged his crimson lips towards hers until they were yoked together.

'I love you, Julie. I have longed and waited for this day to come,' he said as they stuck inseparably to each other.

'I love you, too, baby,' Julie responded, tears in her eyes. He felt deeply delighted that she requited his love.

'But, I am sorry,' she continued. 'I cannot marry you.' He watched in horror has she removed the ring and flung it into the sea before turning and walking away from him.

He followed her and kept calling, asking her to wait.

'Julie! Julie! Julie...'

'Wake up honey' he heard Julie's voice as he opened his eyes to see her kissing his lips. On the small stood beside the bed was a cup of tea and some toast bread she had returned with from the kitchen.

'Were you dreaming about me, honey? I heard you calling my name from the kitchen as I was about bringing you a cup of tea. It is about time you even got up from the bed and have a bath. You promised to take me to the beach in Essex, remember?

'What day is it today?' He managed to ask as he struggled out of bed.

Common honey, don't tell me you have forgotten it is Saint Valentine's day, 14th of February, hello!

'Did you just say Saint Valentine's day?' He asked in shock as he rushed towards his wardrobe to check if the ring he kept in the breast pocket of his jacket is still there. He found it intact, as he had kept it there the day before that morning.

'Why are you acting strange this morning Chinagorom?' She had finally learnt to pronounce his name correctly. He turned to her smiling sheepishly.

'That is because I love you more than life itself!' He answered and went to embrace her.


About The Author


Amadi Ekwutosilam Njoku,author of ERAZ Literature-in-English for senior secondary

schools, hails from Amasiri in Afikpo North,Ebonyi State. He's a poet, novelist, playwright, short story writer, literary essayist and critical analyst. He resides in Lagos where he has taught the English language and Literature-in-English in many schools and SSCE/UTME examination coaching centres. Some of his poems have appeared in Saturday's Daily Sun Newspaper-a bimonthly publication and other national dailies. He is currently with DORSSY HIGH SCHOOL, Moshalashi, Akowonjo,Lagos, where he is a preceptor of the same subjects. He has also to his credits, many unpublished works across the three genres of literature. HOMELESS NOT HOPELESS, his debut novel, will be out of print in a couple of months.