Demola and I have been friends since I could spell my name. We grew up in the same neighborhood then we became roomies at the University. We were opposites. Searching for an introvert? Look no further. His name is Demola… very quiet and studious to a fault. He was a first class material and did not want any form of distraction. But me? I am hot like fire. The one that everyone expects to make mistakes. I was the live of every school party and the toast of all the girls. I was the bad guy. I don’t even know how I graduated with a second class lower.
Something changed in Demola in our final year when he met Laraba. My friend was smitten. It was very obvious that they were head over heels in love, however it came as a surprise to everyone when they announced their engagement after our service year. It didn’t make sense to me. Demola was just twenty four. In my opinion, he had no business getting married at that age.
Well, they got support from their families and were joined in an elaborate ceremony in Laraba’s home town in Kogi State. The wedding ceremony was a three day carnival with a rich display of culture, influence and affluence. As part of their wedding gifts, they got a house in Abuja and two cars. Man, I won’t lie, I really envied my friend. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t looking for a ‘Laraba’. I was very busy sowing my wild oats.
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Theirs looked like a happy marriage until Demola told me that Laraba had left their six year old marriage and relocated to Dubai. Reason? Irreconcilable differences. Over the years, there was something I couldn’t understand about Demola. He was very secretive about his private life and I made it my business not to pry. He gave zero information about what happened in his marriage and I knew better than to ask questions. Demola only tells you what Demola wants you to know. But I later heard from here and there that not having children may have contributed to the problems in their marriage.
Two years later, he met and fell in love with Stella, she was a widow. She had a daughter and that seemed to be the main attraction for Demola.
I advised him to live life a little and take his time before plunging into a second marriage but there was no reasoning with him. So at thirty two, my friend was married again..
Three years into his marriage with Stella, I noticed that things were falling apart….again. Demola had travelled out of town. He said he was going to Asaba for two weeks but it was four months already and he wasn’t saying anything about returning home. At some point he stopped taking Stella’s calls. She was worried and so was I.
I traveled to Asaba to see my friend. We met in a hotel. Demola looked very happy, as a matter of fact, it was the happiest I had seen him in a long time. He squealed to me that he was going to be a father. His girlfriend was pregnant with twins. She lived in Asaba so he had to move down to be close to her. My jaw literally dropped. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. (You see these quiet people eh? Fear them).
My trip to Asaba was an effort in futility. Demola’s mind was set on what he wanted to do. He had no plans of going back to Stella and she was free to do whatever she wanted.
Well, a few days ago, I attended a funeral ceremony. It was Demola’s. Yes he died. Cause of death? Heart attack. A routine medical check showed that he was sterile and the twins from his baby mama were not his. He went into shock, slipped into a coma and never came out of it. He was only 37.
To whom it may concern: if there’s a lesson to learn from this story, please do so and borrow your brain some sense.
Udy Osaro-Edobor.
udy1717@gmail.com
Instagram: @udys_chapter
