DOZ Issue 32 June 2018 - Page 37

set complete with scented candles, took a bath, and was wearing a dress he loved. I looked good and didn’t need anyone to confirm it. I sent the cook and cleaner off for the day, so I was alone in the house when he arrived. But my preparations were really a waste of time, as he mumbled something about being tired and not hungry and went into the study, locking the door behind him. Tears came to my eyes, but then I remembered what God had done for me, and I quickly wiped my tears and sat down at the table to eat my meal. Gbenro would come round, I was very sure of it. God, who had begun a good work in my life and marriage, would surely complete it. After that, I didn’t cook any more meals for Gbenro or pay any attention to him. We lived like two strangers under the same roof, being courteous to each other and putting up a show of love and unity whenever we had visitors calling. I noticed, though, that he didn’t travel as much as he used to and seemed to be home every evening. As time went by, he didn’t step out of a room when I stepp ed in as he had when this whole Ronke business first began. And when he spoke to me, he wasn’t curt or rude even though he didn’t speak like a man did to a wife he loved, but rather to a stranger he wanted to be polite to. I refused to be hurt, I refused to see what wasn’t happening or working, but day after day, I looked for the telltale signs that God was turning things around in my favour. I didn’t hear anything about Ronke, but later I discovered Gbenro and Ronke had a big fight. Over what, I do not know and do not care, but it was after their fight that Gbenro moved back home. I still hadn’t told him anything about the ultrasound scan result, for after he spoilt my plans to tell him, I decided to keep the news to myself. As the days became weeks, my pregnancy became obvious to everyone who saw me. Many family members and friends were taken aback. Some publicly jumped for joy when they saw my protruding tummy, dancing and singing and giving praise to God. At this point, Gbenro could not continue with the I-don’t-care attitude because his family and mine began to ask what preparations he was making for me and for the arrival of his long awaited bundle of miracle. So he called me to discuss my trip to the U.S. and to ask if my mother would be willing to travel with me. Once our discussion was over, we paid my parents a visit to ask if my mother would go with me to America to have the baby. My mother eagerly consented, and my dad willingly permitted her to make the trip, so we began to make arrangements for a visa for my mother. I didn’t need one as I still had a two-year multiple entry visa which was yet to expire. Then Gbenro and I began to make plans to redecorate the spare room next to ours for the baby. He wanted me to buy everything for the room once I arrived in America and send it ahead of my return to Nigeria so the room would be ready for the baby when he or she came home. Every time he spoke, he said “baby” and I didn’t correct him. I could hardly wait to see the surprise on his face when my expected day of delivery came and I gave birth to two babies. Everything was going well health wise. I attended my antenatal classes regularly, and Gbenro politely asked how things went, which made me glad. Then the day came for me to leave for America to have my babies, and I handed over my home and marriage to God and left, trusting God that I would not be ousted before my return. Gbenro did not travel with us because of work, but he planned his trip so he would be in America around the time of my expected day of delivery. Gbenro had rented a flat for us in Houston prior to our arrival because he didn’t want me to stay at my older brother’s house for convenience sake. I spent the first few days after my arrival shopping for everything I would need to furnish my babies’ room and for clothes they would wear for the first six months. Since I did not know the sex of my babies, I bought unisex items. I sent the items to Nigeria and only kept a few of the items they would use prior to our return. I didn’t intend to stay long in America. Once my babies were six weeks old, I planned to return home. Gbenro received the items I sent to Nigeria and got busy setting up the room. He never asked why the beds and other items were double, and I never bothered to explain because in due course he would know. I was in my fourth week in the U.S. when my babies arrived, one month before the expected day of delivery, and so Gbenro missed their birth. Oh, it was a day of joy for me, a day I had waited for more DOZ Magazine June 2018 37 «