WALKING ON WATERS CHAPTER 5

 

                        CHAPTER 5

"So, how's the daily grind going for you, I mean your 9-5 hustle?" I quipped at Jire, taking a sip of my virgin mojito mocktail. We were relaxing at the Anchor restaurant, soaking in the atmosphere of Animashaun Drive, Oniru, Lekki, Lagos.

"Ah, the usual grind, but hey, can't complain. Thank God for both the good and bad days," Jire replied with fervor, showing he's fully engaged in the banter.

"Hmm, if you say so, but are you sure?" I raised an eyebrow, teasing Jire as I playfully threw another jab at him.

"Omoyele Cardoso, I'm 100% sure," Jire declared with conviction, his voice brimming with confidence. "My 9-5 work is great, awesome, the best in this whole wide world. As you can see, I'm glowing."

"Oh, you mean you're shining like a diamond," I retorted in a singsong tone, unable to contain my amusement.

"Yes, I'm shining like a diamond," Jire affirmed, his laughter joining mine in an infectious burst. Around us, the other diners seemed bemused by our joviality, and I couldn't help but imagine the curious glances from the nearby ladies, wondering what had sparked such mirth between two grown men.

Jire and I had a longstanding tradition of setting aside time to hang out together, just the two of us, away from our wives and the hustle and bustle of daily life. Despite our busy schedules, we made it a point to preserve the camaraderie we had forged during our university days. Whenever we heard about a new food joint in town, it brought back memories of our days as students, pooling together our meager pocket money to explore these culinary delights and then regaling our roommates and fellow members of our Christian fellowship group with tales of our adventures.

Now, as adults, we still cherished those moments of bonding over food and laughter. We called these outings "Guys outing," a nod to our university days. 

Despite the passing years, our friendship remained as strong as ever, and whenever we managed to steal some time away for one of our hangouts, the lively chatter and banter flowed effortlessly between us, it was like stepping back in time. Our "Guys outing" was our way of reconnecting, of reaffirming the deep bond that tied us together. And as we sat there, savoring our meal and sharing stories, it was clear that no amount of time or distance could ever dull the connection between us.

"You know what, if I weren't so confident, and if you weren't so steadfast, I'd think Chief put you up to this," Jire remarked, mentioning his dad as he popped a piece of siu mai dumplings into his mouth.

Jire and his father had a strained relationship, primarily due to Jire's career decisions. Despite his father's expectations for him to seamlessly transition into the family business after graduation, Jire adamantly pursued his own path. Despite being the top student in his department and even the entire school that year, Jire opted to pursue opportunities outside of his father's esteemed company, much to his father's disappointment.

"But Guy, wait, seriously, isn't it time for you to step into your Dad's Company and embrace your role in the Tejuosho business legacy?" I gently shrugged my shoulders, broaching the topic with care.

Jire chuckled, deflecting the seriousness of the conversation with a lighthearted tone. "What's with the sudden concern, man?" he quipped, his demeanor relaxed. 

"As I've mentioned countless times, I'm not keen on joining my dad's company. Ogbeni , The Tejuosho Business Dynasty is thriving without me. You know, with all this persistent questioning, you're starting to sound like a nagging wife," he teased, smoothly steering the conversation away.

"If I were a nagging wife, you'd be the one enduring it," I playfully responded, mimicking a female voice for added effect.

"God forbid," Jire interjected with a chuckle, swiftly changing the tone. It wasn't my intention to intrude on his career decisions unnecessarily

I had only brought up the topic with Jire after hearing about the challenges his wife was facing from the persistent pressure from Jire's father to convince him to join the family company.

 It wasn't out of idle curiosity but rather genuine concern for their well-being that prompted me to bring up the subject.

As our discussion naturally dwindled, we found solace in the serenity of the moment, allowing the tranquil ambiance of the family-friendly restaurant to wash over us. With each bite of our meal, we absorbed the picturesque view of the Lekki Leisure Beach sprawled before us. The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a soothing soundtrack to our silent companionship, echoing the peaceful demeanor of the other patrons around us. This tranquil interlude persisted until it was broken by the sudden ring of Jire's phone.

"Hello, sir," Jire greeted warmly, slipping one earpod into place as he listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line.

 "I'm doing great, and you?" His genuine interest shone through as he waited for the response.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he continued,

 "So glad to hear that... No, I'm not at home, just hanging out with one of my buddies." His tone was relaxed, indicating a sense of ease in the conversation with a close colleague or superior.

"Definitely, I'd love to hang out with you too one of these days," Jire's enthusiasm was palpable, reflecting his genuine desire for connection. 

"Hmm, that would be great. 

“So you're considering that after we're done with the Mushin Young Boys mentorship, we should also do some apostolic visits to see our boys in the Makoko district?" His voice dipped slightly, infusing a touch of reverence as he mentioned the prospect of "apostolic visits."

"That's actually a great idea. We should discuss it at our next meeting and pray about it," Jire affirmed firmly, his conviction evident in his tone.

"Yeah, I'll check my WhatsApp for the flier... Okay, sir," Jire acknowledged, punctuating his response with a brief pause to confirm his next steps.

 "Not at all, sir, you haven't disturbed anything. 

Will definitely relay your regards to him... Bye for now." With a respectful farewell, Jire ended the call and shifted his focus back to our ongoing hangout, a sense of contentment settling over him.

"Ore mi, the mentor," I teased Jire with a playful grin. "You didn't tell me you've started a mentorship class. I could have humbly applied to be one of your mentees," I added with a hint of mock sincerity, playfully acting out the scenario as I took a bite of my sesame pocket.

"Ologbeni, you better quit with this unnecessary whining," Jire warned me in jest, a smile spreading across his face, showcasing his perfect white teeth.

"Seriously, tell me about it. Is this mentorship part of what you guys do in that Christian program you've been inviting me to?" I inquired, genuinely curious.

"Yeah, it's part of what we do under the umbrella of the fellowship," Jire confirmed.

"That's great. It's wonderful to hear that you guys are playing a vital role in changing the poor narrative about our young boys to a better one," I remarked, impressed by their initiative.

"Let's thank God for that. And that's part of the reason I think you should attend this fellowship of ours," Jire suggested.

"Nah, I have my own church where I'm actively engaged. I'm also in a church unit that perfectly suits me," I interjected, explaining my stance.

"If I called you Blockhead, I would be offending God and your wife. How many times do I have to reiterate to you that Bromance in Christ is not a church denominational stuff? We're non-denominational. We're just a group of Christian men from different churches but with like minds in Christ. We come together to worship God, admonish one another with God's word, and strengthen ourselves in prayers, all for one purpose: to be the men Christ desires us to be in our homes, workplaces, and in society at large. That's all," Jire clarified 

"See, you should know that when I see something good and beneficial, not just for me but for my loved ones too, I'll make sure to share it with them," He affirmed. "Being part of Bromance over the last year has truly enriched my life as a man. My faith journey hasn't just improved; every aspect of my being has been positively impacted. With this group, I've become more conscious of my role as an ambassador for Christ every single day.”

"And what about your church? It seems like this group has replaced your local church," I quipped, teasingly snagging a siu mai dumpling from his plate.

"Never. Bromance in Christ simply reinforces whatever I might have learned in church," Jire clarified with a chuckle. "It's like imagining guys gathering together at a beer pub, sharing about their lives, both the ups and downs, and offering each other advice. That's what Bromance in Christ feels like, except we're not drunk on wine but in the spirit, you get it?" He laughed, delivering his punchline with a playful grin.

"For your mind, you've just dropped a punchline," I stated mockingly, feigning disgust.

"Whether it's a weak punchline or not, my point has been established. Mingle with the main men, just pay a visit once, Yele. Just once, and I tell you, you'll be wanting more," Jire pleaded earnestly, his tone carrying a sense of conviction.

"I've heard you; I'll think about it," I replied apathetically, not fully committing.

"You're still thinking? Don't worry, I'll just have to drag you down there," Jire asserted with a chuckle, determined to sway my decision.

"Before you drag me around like a calf by your cow rope or whatever, permit me to make an order of this sumptuous meal we enjoyed for my wife. You know, the underlying clause of our MOU for our guys' outing with my wife is that whenever we go out, I must bring home her package of every delicacy we enjoyed. So let me honor that part of our bargain," I explained with a chuckle, as I reached out for the menu.

"Guy, same thing with Oyinkan, oh," Jire affirmed, nodding in agreement as I flagged down the nearest waiter to place the order.

                        YADAH’S POV

Stepping out of the car, the cool breeze of the evening air caressed my bare feet, a sensation that never failed to stir a feeling of liberation within me. On one hand, I cradled my Gabriella Gold crystal leather flat slippers, their presence a gentle reminder of the day's responsibilities now happily cast aside. Meanwhile, the weight of my handbag on the other hand grounded me firmly in the present moment.

With each leisurely step toward the door of my home, a contented smile graced my lips, the edges turning up in anticipation of the comforting familiarity awaiting me inside. As the image of my mother's hypothetical reaction to seeing me barefoot within my own compound flitted through my mind, a soft chuckle bubbled up from within. "Omofuromo," she would likely chide in her Epie-Attisa dialect of the Bayelsa people, "what do you think you're doing, walking barefoot? Do you think you're back at Brass Beach, bah?" The thought brought a happy grin to my face, a silent tribute to the wonderful man I was fortunate enough to call my husband. In his embrace, I found not only love and companionship but also the freedom to be my truest self, complete with all my quirks and occasional bursts of childlike joy.

In that fleeting moment, enveloped by the tranquility of my surroundings, I savored the simple pleasure of walking unshod upon the earth—a silent homage to the carefree spirit that still danced within me.

Yele, my husband, has always encouraged me to embrace my authenticity, to break free from the constraints of being the prim and proper wife at all times. His acceptance of my quirks and occasional whims is one of the many blessings I count in our marriage. As I stood in front of our door, the sight of the smart lock greeted me, a symbol of modernity and security woven into the fabric of our home. With a gentle tap of my phone against its sleek surface, a soft hum acknowledged my presence—a comforting routine embedded in the rhythm of my daily life.

Crossing the threshold into my abode, a sense of serenity washed over me, wrapping me in it's comforting embrace. The familiar sights and sounds of home greeted me warmly, wrapping me in a comforting embrace. With a sigh of relief, I unburdened myself by tossing my bag onto one of the sleek, modern chairs that adorned the living room.

Ignoring the gentle pull of exhaustion, I made a beeline for the refrigerator, driven by a thirst that demanded immediate attention. The familiar hum of the refrigerator greeted me like an old friend as I swung open its door, a comforting soundtrack to my quest for refreshment.

Amidst the shelves of provisions, my fingers brushed against the smooth surface of a cold bottle of water. Cradling it in my hand, I returned to the comforting embrace of the living room, sinking into the plush cushion of the chair. With each sip of the cool liquid, relief washed over me, revitalizing my senses. Surrounded by the familiar comforts of home, a profound sense of gratitude welled up within me for the sanctuary I had created.

"Yele should be home any time soon,"

 whispered through my mind, a silent anticipation of his imminent return.He had ventured out with his friend Jire for a foodie expedition, while I had made my way to my parent's house to join forces with my cousin for a wedding preparations met for another younger cousin of ours. The agreement was clear – we both aimed to be back home before 7 pm.

Glancing at my phone, I noted the time – 5:40 pm. With a gentle flick of my thumb, the digital clock on my phone's wallpaper illuminated the screen, confirming the hour.

In a bid to break the silence that hung heavy in the living room, I reached for the TV remote control resting on the center table. With each press of its familiar buttons, memories from the day flooded my mind, washing away the stillness and infusing the space with the echoes of moments gone by.

"So, what did you do, Babe?" Bodisere, my cousin, inquired, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity as we sat together in the living room, surrounded by stacks of souvenirs meant to accompany the aso ebi. The room, once fondly dubbed the "Children's Living Room" during our childhood, now served as the backdrop for our reminiscences and wedding preparations.

"I just apologized, I told her sorry," I recounted, my voice carrying the weight of sincerity as I recalled the events of Murewa's child-naming ceremony.

"You mean, you were apologizing to a woman who was outrightly bullying you over such a sensitive matter?" Bodisere's words sliced through the air, carrying with them a sharp edge of disbelief and indignation. Her eyes blazed with fury as she confronted the injustice of the situation, her tone leaving no room for doubt about her feelings on the matter.

At that moment, I realized I couldn't continue with the last anecdote I had planned to share with Bodisere. The memory of Aunt Ibiyemi's unsettling behavior at my mother-in-law's grave flooded my mind with vivid clarity. I recalled her fervent pleas to my late mother-in-law as if seeking divine intervention for her assumption about me having fertility struggles. The image of her hands pounding the grave's slab while forcefully striking my stomach lingered in my thoughts, sending shivers down my spine. Despite the crimson hue that painted Yele's face in anger, I felt a surge of gratitude towards my brother-in-law, Molawa, whose intervention had prevented a volatile outburst from Yele. Knowing how easily Bodisere's anger could ignite, I decided to withhold the unsettling tale, fearing the potential repercussions if her fury were unleashed upon Aunt Ibiyemi.

"What are you insinuating? That I should have stooped to her level and engaged in a shouting match?" I retorted, my voice tinged with frustration as I addressed my prowling, angry cousin. 

"I couldn’t afford to tarnish my reputation in front of all these people. Remember, the event was attended by various individuals with different perceptions. And besides," I added, my tone softening slightly, “She's the only connection we have left to my late mother-in-law, the subtle reminder of what Yele’s mother looks like and probably act like, I can't risk alienating her, no matter how infuriating her behavior may be.”

"Abeg,Cut me that crap, just let me remind you, gentility no be stupidity," Bodisere cautioned me, her finger tapping the left side of her head as she spoke. Her voice carried a pidgin English sing-song tone, tinged with a hint of exasperation.

"Wait, what did Yele have to say with all these drama that happened?" she asked, her curiosity palpable in the furrow of her brow and the intensity of her gaze.

"Don't even let's go to that one. You know how he can be at such times, and I do not need to remind you how he and his aunt are not the best of friends. I had to keep pressing him to refrain from any form of outburst with his aunt. Eventually, he made us walk out of the event," I explained, my words laced with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

"That brother-in-law of mine doesn't disappoint; that's one of the reasons I love him," she remarked, a glint of admiration in her eyes. "You shouldn't have held him back; you should have let him put that aunt of his in her place. Her behavior is just too much," she added bitterly, her voice tinged with frustration and resentment.

"Ah, Boddy!" I exclaimed, taken aback by her candid remark.

"Don't worry," I reassured her with a chuckle, "when you and your future Bobo finally decide to tie the knot, you'll appreciate all these pearls of wisdom, especially when the topic shifts to those striking tattoos adorning your skin," I remarked, gesturing playfully to the intricate designs that adorned her milky complexion.

"Abeg, these marks I bear on my body are the marks of Christ," she remarked solemnly, delicately tracing her fingers over the tattoos adorning her skin. "Let no man trouble me," she added, her tone resolute, as if defending her choice of body art with unwavering conviction.

"I hope you know the marks Apostle Paul talked about are the beatings and stripes he received for the sake of the Gospel of Christ. He wasn't talking about tattoos," I clarified gently, offering a gentle reminder of the biblical context.

"I don't care, my stance stands," she pointed out firmly, a big grin spreading across her face as she asserted her position.

"But actually, I've been thinking about removing this IUD thing," I began, frustration evident in my voice. "I've discussed it with Yele, but he just doesn't see the reason with me. He's not even considering that the appointed years of delay have passed," I explained, a tinge of disappointment creeping into my tone. "He keeps giving one reason or another why we should still wait. I was considering that you, as per our gynecologist, could help me talk to him," I admitted, seeking support and understanding from my cousin as I gently touched her hands, conveying my earnest plea for assistance.

"I get that the year of delay has lapsed but dear cuz, where are you rushing to? Bodisere's hands moved in a circular motion in front of her stomach, mimicking the act of someone giving birth. "Are you trying to be a mother," she asked, her voice tinged with urgency, "just because some witch baby-hunting aunties are breathing down your neck to start popping out babies like nothing else matters?" Her demonstration captured the sense of pressure and expectation surrounding the decision to have children, her hands conveying the urgency and weight of societal expectations. Despite the dramatic gestures, her voice remained filled with empathy and concern, reflecting her understanding of the complexities involved in such a significant life choice.

"Bringing children into this world should be a mutual agreement between husband and wife, and it should be done at their own pace and convenience, not based on our society's world clock. If your husband feels you guys still need to be in the lovey-dovey phase for now, without the input of a child, darling it's not a crime, stick with it," she uttered in her American accent, her words carrying a sense of wisdom and reassurance.

"See, I can tell you how many couples' relationships have broken down due to them or one of them not being ready to embrace parenthood for one reason or another," she added, her tone reflective as she spoke from her own experiences and observations.

"I know we live in a society where the timing of marriage and childbirth is often dictated to us," Bodisere began, her tone gentle yet firm. "But my love, we shouldn't subject ourselves to that. I am of the view that married couples should take their time to nurture their love before thinking of nurturing a child. Because nurturing your love and nurturing a child are two different things. They may be on the same coin, but they're on different sides of the coin," she explained.

"But what about the fertile clock, shouldn't I consider that?" I questioned, furrowing my brow with uncertainty as I carefully packed the last souvenir along with the remaining aso ebi.

"Leave all those terminologies employed by us medical professionals. Are we God?" Bodisere's voice rang out with conviction. 

"See, no fertile clock will be lapsed whenever you and your husband decide to start a family in Jesus' name. The first thing that comes first before any fertile clock or children is you being whole, not losing yourself to the demands of our hypocritical society. I repeat, whenever you and Yele decide to bring children into this world, nothing shall delay it by the power of the Holy Ghost," She proclaimed, her words carrying a strong sense of belief and assurance, while a resounding "Amen" escaped from my lips, echoing the faith and conviction in her declaration.

"And knowing your man, I'm pretty sure he's already scheming up some grand plans for when you guys decide to start a family," Bodisere exclaimed, her tone brimming with excitement. 

"I wouldn't be shocked if he goes all out and brings in a team of au pairs from around the globe to cater to you and your future little ones. Your husband is the epitome of a man ready to give his woman the princess/queen treatment in this thing called marriage," she declared, her enthusiasm evident in her words.

"You know who comes to mind whenever I think of a man who wants to make marriage a bed of roses for his wife?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned forward eagerly.

"Who?" I asked, a playful glint already shining in my eyes, pretending as if I didn't know exactly who she was referring to.

"Yele," she whispered to me, her voice filled with happiness and warmth, as if sharing a delightful secret between us. A wide grin spread across my face as she uttered his name, my stomach coiling with happiness at the mere mention of him.

Sitting within the comforting embrace of my home, a smile naturally graced my lips as memories of Bodisere's endearing words flooded back. Yet, as I basked in the familiar coziness, a subtle shift occurred within me. The corners of my lips, initially drawn into a gentle smile, began to waver, betraying the calm facade I had maintained. Despite the apparent rationality of Yele's decision and the wisdom in Bodisere's advice, an undeniable glow filled my thoughts as I imagined myself pregnant and barefoot in Yele's kitchen, in our home, immersed in its warmth. The mere anticipation of children darting around, playfully tugging at me, stirred a sensation within that transcended words, spreading a deep warmth through my being. In my mind's eye, vibrant images emerged: expectant mothers exuding pure joy as they celebrated impending motherhood, and the spirited scenes of children joyfully clinging to their mothers' hands at gatherings.

"Baby, I'm home," Yele's voice broke through my daydream, his presence filling the living room as he entered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, carrying with him some food packs.

"Welcome home," I uttered , my voice filled with warmth as I rose from the couch with a warm smile, so eager to welcome him. 

Without a word, I moved to assist him with the food packs, feeling his embrace envelop me in a comforting hug as I carefully set the pack down on the table. 

In that moment, our silent exchange spoke volumes of our shared affection and comfort in each other's presence.

"And how did your food adventures go?" I asked, gently intertwining my fingers with his as we made our way to the couch.

"Great, Their menu indeed exceeded my expectations," he replied with a gleeful grin, his touch playful yet tender, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he held me close while we settled into the comfort of the couch.

"I'm thrilled to hear that! I'm sure Jire would have been delighted not only to savor their cuisine with you but also to spend time together," I happily added.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun with Jire. He even went ahead discussing more about this non-denominational Christian men fellowship that he had been recently talking to me about,”He stated as we lounged on the couch, the soft glow of the television screen illuminating the room with a flickering light."

"Really? What's the name?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as I traced patterns on his hand with my fingertips.

"He called it something like 'Brother In... No, it's Bromance in Christ,'" he recalled with a chuckle, his eyes reflecting the fading light.

"Quite an interesting name. What did he tell you about it?" I probed, a smile playing on my lips.

"Ahhh, why all these questions? Am I being interviewed? It seems like you've switched to your journalism mode," he joked, his laughter filling the room.

"No nau… ,I'm just interested in knowing what the group is all about, especially with such a quirky name," I replied, gently running my fingertips through the thick, soft strands of his beard. The neatly trimmed hairs tickled my skin, and I felt the warmth of his smile as he leaned into my touch, his facial hair a testament to his dedication to grooming.

"He said something along about how the group has helped increase his joy and progress in the faith" he said, sharing further insights about the non-denominational Christian men's group Jire had mentioned to him.

"Really, the group sounds cool, it's giving off vibes similar to the women of faith group," I remarked, making reference to a popular Christian women fellowship, known globally.

"Yeah, kind of," Yele replied, sensing the intensity of my gaze.

"What?" he asked, catching the significance of my stare as our eyes locked.

"Nothing, oh," I replied, my eyes briefly darting away from his, a faint smile playing at the corners of my lips. "I was just pondering, perhaps joining the group wouldn't be such a bad idea for you," I suggested, my words carefully chosen to convey my thoughts without being too direct.

"I just knew it, I knew something along that line was going to come out of your mouth, the moment I saw those gazelle stares," he said with a chuckle, his tone light-hearted but teasing.

"Is there anything wrong about suggesting that my husband belong to a Christian group that would be of benefit to his spiritual growth?" I asked, my hands lifted in a theatrical display of inquiry, each movement deliberate and calculated to convey my earnestness, while a playful spark danced in my eyes, hinting at the underlying humor in the situation.

"I can see that you and Jire belong to the same team, Team Benefits. Anyway, I'm not considering joining the group. I have a lot on my plate already," he stated, his tone firm yet lighthearted as he brushed off the suggestion.

"Ahhh, my Oko, my sweet husband," I began, my voice tender and affectionate. 

"I don't think there is any harm in belonging to this group, considering both the impact you will receive and give. Besides, apart from staying with your work all day and occasionally seeing Jire with some of our close acquaintances, this is another opportunity for you to mingle with men who pursue righteousness, faith, and love. You get it..." I paused, leaning in closer, my eyes locking with his, conveying a sense of earnestness and sincerity.

 "Remember your 2 Timothy Chapter 2, verse 22," I whispered softly, letting the weight of the scripture sink in as a gentle reminder of our shared values and beliefs.

"I get, but–" he started to say.

"No 'but,” I interjected firmly, cutting off his hesitation.

"I will be thinking about it," he stated, his voice trailing off slightly as he glanced away, a flicker of regret shadowing his expression. He mentally scolded himself for inadvertently revealing his discussion with Jire about the men's Christian group.

"Please do, I await your positive response," I asserted confidently, sensing a shift in his demeanor as his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tensed, yet I remained undeterred. "For now, let's dig into the goodies you brought home," I said eagerly, my attention shifting to the food pack before us, a glint of excitement dancing in my eyes.