No Second Chance (2)
(Continued from last week Saturday)
Twas in the month of July and there was a torrential downpour in Lagos that very Saturday when Lanre embarked on his journey to Lagos. The rain was heavy and thundery.
Lanre and his entourage got to their destination around 4: pm. The heavy rain had not subsided when they got to Foluke’s parents house in Ejigbo, on the outskirts of Lagos. He had a high hope and positive disposition that all would be well when they reach Foluke’s house. He had mooted the idea to her a couple of weeks ago and she didn’t object or disapprove of the move and she even told him that her parents were in support of the whole thing. Lanre knocked the main door to the house. It was Foluke’s dad who appeared to him at that moment. He surveyed Lanre from head to toe and shook his head with disdain and contempt.
“What do you want, young man?” he said, with a contemptuous look on his face.
“Sir, I hope you recognise me?” Lanre said. “I am Foluke’s fiancé and I have come all the way from Ekiti State with my uncle and some friends for a formal introduction in preparation for our wedding.” “I know you quite well, Lanre,” the elderly man replied. “I am not daft or blind. Foluke didn’t tell me anything of such. And for your information, we can’t allow our beautiful daughter to marry a man as poor as you. The stench of poverty emanating from your body is irritating and disgusting.”
“But… but… i am…” Lanre stammered, trying to find the appropriate words to say. He added: “Foluke come and see your would-be husband standing at the door, inside the rain.”
Foluke, who was chatting with her mum at the sitting room, walked towards the main door. “Ha, it’s Lanre,” she said, hissing with annoyance and disgust. “Lanre, I
Ihave told you the relationship won’t work.” She continued: “My time is very precious to me. I can’t marry a poor and struggling man, like you. Dad, I have better things to think about. When did Chief Owonikoko say he would come?”
“He should be on his way,” Foluke’s dad replied. “Gentlemen, I can’t allow you inside my house. We are expecting an important suitor. Please, leave my house if you don’t want any trouble.”
“Foluke, Foluke,” Lanre called, really worried and agitated. “For God’s sake, don’t turn your back on me… i’m in love with you… don’t go away.”
The young man was trembling, shaking and greatly embarrassed, as the door was locked. Tears came cascading down from his eyes, tears of sadness and sorrow. He was heartbroken; he felt lonely and dejected. The shame, neglect and embarrassment were painful and dehumanising.
Lanre and his entourage turned and left Foluke’s parents house immediately.
As they were leaving, an expensive and sophisticated BMW car arrived at the scene. The occupant was an elderly man in his late 50s. He was fat, rotund and bald-headed. He got down and walked towards the door of Foluke’s parents house. Lanre turned his head swiftly and he saw Foluke hugging and pampering the elderly man as they entered into the wonder-on-wheels and drove off. He felt so bad, cheap and ashamed that he prayed the earth should open and swallow him up.
There was still the light drizzle of the rain and the whole area was muddy. The expensive posh car splashed mud water on Lanre and his entourage as it zoomed off. Lanre became so depressed and down from that day onward. He couldn’t understand why a lady he loved so much could treat him like dirt. His parents waded into the crisis and begged him not to do anything foolish. (Tobeconcludednextweek)