The Place Beyond Her Dreams

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The Place Beyond Her Dreams Page 8

by Oby Aligwekwe


  “Yes, I’m looking at you.”

  I sniffed and took a good look at her. The creases and lines around her mouth told the story of the thirty-five years she’d spent on this earth. There was sadness—deep sadness—in her eyes. My apprehension increased the longer I looked at her, so I sighed and tried to look away.

  “What do you see?” she asked, dragging my chin to continue facing her.

  “I don’t know,” I gasped in protest. “Stop acting as if I’m just seeing you for the first time. You look a little tired. Leave me alone. I need to rest.”

  Taken aback, she released my chin but ignored my comment.

  “I’m sorry, Ifedi. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Do you think this is the life I wanted for myself? Before you respond, I’ll first say that I have no regrets. I have worked for you for several years now. If you recall, I was barely an adult when I came to live with you and your grandparents. I loved you from the moment I set my eyes on you, but what you don’t know is that I too had hopes and dreams of my own. I was even in love at one point.”

  “What happened? Where is he?” I asked wondering how I had been oblivious to the fact that Ifedi had been in love. For some reason, the prospect that Ifedi had ever been in love made my sorrows disappear. I slumped back into my chair when I realized my questions had turned her tired eyes a bit teary. It was the first time I’d ever seen Ifedi cry. It broke my heart.

  “I don’t know where he is now,” she finally said. “But I dream of him every day. I imagine that he is mine and that we’re here together. We have children running around the house, making a mess, and I don’t mind because I’m happy—too happy to care. And it’s all in here,” she said, placing a hand on her chest.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why don’t you just go after him?”

  “Why haven’t you gone after Okem?”

  I stared at her in disbelief.

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  “Exactly! I also don’t know where this man I talk about is. He could be dead; I don’t know. He could even be married with children.”

  “Then why do you keep dreaming about him?”

  “It makes me happy,” she said, getting up and walking towards the window. “Otherwise, I would be crying just like you.”

  “Like me? That’s not fair.”

  The rain had turned into a slight drizzle and taken along with it the tears in my eyes.

  Ifedi turned to me and spoke with authority. “If you love Okem, replace your dejection with dreaming. You will see how much better that will make you feel. Dreaming helps keep hope alive, hope for the future. It’s a way for you to let go without feeling as though you’re betraying him.”

  “I don’t think it’s as easy as you make it sound.”

  “What do you have to lose? Try it.”

  From that day, I dreamed instead of crying. I dreamed that Okem was back, and we got married in a lavish ceremony, and we had children and that we lived to a ripe old age. My dreams replaced the dejection I felt. I slowly recovered and became happy again. I was to graduate by the end of that year, and my grandmother organized a huge party. Albert asked me to marry him again at that party, and I said yes. Albert loved me, so it was easy. I still hoped Okem would be back, and I still dreamed about him occasionally, but I loved Albert in a different way, and I was willing to make it work. Besides, no one had heard from Okem since he left. Everyone wondered if he was still alive. I wondered if he would ever come back to Ntebe.

  * * *

  Months of intense grooming at the palace in Ide followed my betrothal to Albert. It was necessary for me to become the wife of the future King. A driver picked me up daily from Ntebe and drove me to Ide for the exercise. The process included training on etiquette and ethics suitable for a queen. We carried out several traditional rites, some of which made me uncomfortable, but I brushed them off as necessary for a future queen. It was not until I complained to my grandmother that she made everything clear. After a day of intense training in Ide, I sat down in her room and asked her what I'd been meaning to for a while.

  “Why do I have to learn so much? I don’t even think Albert is going through as much as I have to, and he is to be king, not me.”

  “How do you know he’s not going through worse? You don’t attend his sessions with him.”

  “I know that he is undergoing less torture for a fact. Do you see all they’ve put me through? I did not ask for this.”

  “Listen, dear. When you finally get married, your husband will be the head. You will be the neck. As the neck, your role is as important as that of the head, even likely more important than his because no matter what the head wants to do, the neck will have to approve as the former could not possibly move without the latter.”

  “But what if I ruin everything?” I asked after a moment’s pause.

  “You cannot run away from your calling. This is what you have been called to do. You tried to run away once and got pulled back by providence. The same providence will keep restricting you no matter how hard you try, so you need to let it take its course.”

  I wondered what my grandmother meant by “you tried once.” I was sure she was referring to Okem, but I was afraid to probe as I didn’t want to open up a can of worms. She had sounded like my grandfather when she talked about my calling. I wondered if she had been talking to him too. If so, they had both succeeded in confusing me further. Unlike her, though, my grandfather had refused to assist me with making choices.

  “What are you referring to, Mama?” I asked, seizing the opportunity to grill her further about my calling. “I see no way the things they’re forcing me to learn will help me achieve my goals. None of the things they’re stuffing down my throat includes any of my wishes.”

  “What are your wishes,” she asked, ignoring my tantrum.

  “Papa had said—”

  She hummed and flapped her wrapper on her thighs at the mere mention of Papa, which didn’t surprise me. She never liked speaking about my grandfather. His death had been so painful to her, she shut down anytime anyone or anything reminded her of him. The first time I met him in Luenah, I had guarded the meeting jealously. It was my secret. As time passed, and I noticed my grandmother wouldn’t entertain any talk of him, I realized I didn’t need to worry about her probing and discovering my secret.

  “Your wishes?” she repeated. “What things do you wish for in this life?”

  “I just want to be loved, to answer my call of duty, and to find happiness.”

  “Don’t you think this is your call of duty then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I was thinking about Okem at that moment, but I couldn’t tell her that. Although I was set on marrying Albert, I was still in love with Okem. As Okem’s wife, I was pretty sure I would have had to answer to a different call of duty, working as a government lawyer or running my own law firm, so how could I respond to my grandmother’s question without addressing that aspect? So far, I was yet to conquer love. Duty had been decided for me, as a consequence of the love ‘I chose.’

  “My dear, everything you’re going through is preparing you for what you were meant to be,” she said, interrupting my reverie. “Have you ever heard the saying, man proposes and God disposes? If you believe, fate will always drive you through the required tests and supply you with the wisdom you need to achieve your purpose. In the end, you will have acquired all the knowledge required to do something bigger than yourself. Something you could never have imagined. No matter how hard you try to conquer love and duty, or even achieve happiness, if you’re not living your purpose, you will never be fulfilled. And if you’re not fulfilled, you can never claim to have found happiness.”

  “What if I marry the wrong person? Will I still be able to achieve my purpose?”

  She hummed and shook her head.

  “What then?” I asked, glaring at her.

  “It will be very difficult. Almost impossible,” she finally said. “Marrying the wrong
person can send your entire life down the drain.” She paused and stuck her neck out for emphasis. “You will marry the person who will help you achieve your purpose, and you will help him with his, in return. Don’t worry so much. I believe you’re on the right track. Everything happens for a reason; everything will eventually align for your good. Believe that God is love, and he will bring forth all you need. He will.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. Ever since you were a little girl, you’ve talked about lessening the plight of the less privileged. Becoming Queen seems to be a great way for you to do that.”

  “You’re right, Grandma. This is my chance to do something for the greater good. I can’t think of a better way. I’ll influence policy, laws, judgments, and even the economy.”

  “There you go! I always thought you were a queen at heart. You seem truly energized now.”

  She was right. I could feel the excitement too. It was bubbling right in my core.

  Though I still yearned for Okem, I heeded my grandmother’s advice and prepared for my marriage to the Crown Prince.

  Chapter Eleven

  WE CELEBRATED OUR engagement in a lavish ceremony that attracted countless dignitaries from near and far. Amidst the crowds, I counted at least seven governors and two former presidents. Security personnel and soldiers with armored vehicles lined the roads from Ide to Ntebe. All the shops were closed, and the major roads were blocked off to control traffic. For the first time, I got a glimpse of the significance of my position. Countless times, I was told of how beautiful I looked in my wedding attire. After many days of searching for the ideal fabric, my grandmother finally came across the perfect one for my attire—a beautiful asooke in wine red and gold. She had it custom embroidered to ensure it was one-of-a-kind.

  Amah and nine other friends, wearing a glamorous, green and gold embroidered aso-ebi uniform escorted me as I made my entrance at the ceremony. Our clothes and our faces glistened from the lights emanating from the intricately designed lamps. They were strategically positioned outside to create a striking ambiance with the landscape and the structures that once awed me as a kid. When I got older, those structures had begun to lose their significance, but that night, they stood out and reminded me what a magnificent home my grandfather’s was.

  The heavens were magnificent, too. A half-moon danced in the sky, radiant against a dark background completely rid of stars. Both families were seated on opposite sides of each other while the traditional rites were carried out. I was taken through a test—a question-and-answer section by the patriarch of Albert’s family to confirm that I had been properly groomed for my position. I answered everything correctly and was taken before my family, my grandmother, mother, and father, as well as my aunties and uncles. They whispered words of advice to me as I stooped before each one of them. I was then guided by my ‘ladies in waiting’ to Albert’s family so they could also offer their blessings to me. After they muttered incantations to welcome me to the family, I was asked to kneel before Albert. He placed his hand on my back and said a prayer and a loud, “Amen,” to which the crowd responded in unison with a reverberating, “Amen!”

  Next, Albert took my hands and guided me to the seat beside his. The gesture reminded me of the years I spent sitting next to Papa, and a feeling of déjà vu swept over me. I couldn’t help but wonder how this memorable day would have been different if my life had taken another path. Had my betrothed been Okem, I would no doubt be looking at a completely different sea of faces, beaming with joy and laughter. Friends, family, and neighbors with no other motive than to have a good time would have filled the seats. The pomp and pageantry would be at a bare minimum, and there would be no politics, no hierarchy, and no us and them.

  “Ona, Ona,” I felt someone calling and forcing me out of my reverie.

  Albert was smiling down at me. Squeezing my hand firmly, he whispered, “My Queen.”

  I blinked and looked at him inquisitively. Calling me by my future title had startled me and reminded me of what I was destined to do; to marry Albert and be his Queen. He chuckled at my reaction.

  “You better get used to it, my darling,” he said before I could respond.

  “Ye—yes,” I stuttered.

  I loved Albert for what he was, prim and proper and almost impenetrable, and he loved me—although more than I loved him. He worshipped the ground I walked on and was always at my beck and call. He bought me gifts almost daily. But he was rich so buying gifts for me didn’t require any sacrifice on his part. He didn’t get additional points for that. For all his other qualities, he was perfect for me as my grandmother had insinuated. I hoped and prayed as I sat next to him that Okem would soon become a passing memory. A dream. One filled with enough hope to help me achieve the balance I so desperately sought.

  The ceremony continued with eating and dancing. Albert and I performed our first dance amidst cheers from the crowd. Wads of money in different currencies were sprayed all over us by the guests as we entertained them with our unrehearsed dance moves. The staff assigned to pick up the cash tripped over each other as the pieces flew in every direction while the guests tried to outdo one another in their display of riches. It was hard for me to imagine how the actual wedding would be if the engagement ceremony alone could garner such attention. I knew it was a big deal to be affianced to the future King, but there was no way I could have anticipated the grandeur and glory with which the ceremony was carried out.

  It was long past midnight before the last guest left. I remained in our home in Ntebe, where I was expected to live until after our wedding in two months. Albert couldn’t wait. His excitement was unmistakable at the ceremony. He told anyone who cared to listen how eager he was for me to become his wife and move in with him.

  Though we didn’t live together, we began to spend more time together and got closer in subsequent weeks. I visited Ide more often but never spent the night there except during important occasions—weddings or cultural celebrations. In those instances, a separate room, decorated as fit for a princess, was always reserved for me.

  * * *

  I relaxed into my new routine with Albert, although I still thought about Okem once in a while. One Saturday morning after Albert came to visit me in Ntebe, I casually brought up the subject of Okem as we stood side-by-side on the porch.

  “I wonder what became of Okem. He just disappeared into thin air, and no one has seen him since then.”

  Albert crossed his hands and leaned back against the post.

  “I sent a delegate to search for him some time ago,” he said after a moment’s pause.

  “Really? When? I didn’t know that.” I said excitedly, making a slight half-turn to look at him.

  For a moment, his gaze strolled absently over my face before he asked, “Why does that excite you so much?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, slightly embarrassed. “I just didn’t think you cared what happened to him.”

  “He was like your best friend. Why shouldn’t I care?”

  “Well, thank you,” I responded, despite sensing a dose of sarcasm from him.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Any word at all from your search?” I asked, trying my best to remain composed.

  He was silent for a moment before frowning and shaking his head.

  “No word,” he responded, returning to his original position.

  * * *

  I settled into my role as the future wife of the future King. As we prepared for our wedding, Albert’s team bore the brunt of the work. I helped as much as I could and even suggested for my grandmother’s address—my address—to be used for some of the correspondence just to spread the risk. RSVPs for some of his closest friends came to me. Together, Ifedi and I sorted through the mail daily, recorded the responses, and then handed them to him whenever he came by.

  As the wedding drew closer, Albert showed himself to be a wonderful partner. Being so kind and considerate, he checked in every day to see how things were g
oing, but my mind still wandered, as usual. If not on Okem or my adventures in Luenah, it was on the unending steps we needed to complete for the wedding. I caught Albert looking at me at times and shaking his head whenever I stepped into a reverie. I talked to him about Okem one more time to see if I could find out more about the search he had carried out to find him. This time around, he provided vague answers and changed the topic.

  His reluctance deterred me from asking any further. I didn’t want to reveal how much Okem’s disappearance affected me. My love for Okem was still alive, but it was not immediately apparent. It existed in my dreams and in the innermost crevices of my heart where no one could reach for it without first prying me open. It was safe.

  * * *

  “As the wedding planning intensifies, I find myself thinking more and more about Okem,” I said to Amah one sunny afternoon when she came to visit. She came by often to assist me with wedding preparations while she waited for her applications to a Master’s Program to come through.

  “In what sense?” she asked, raising her brows as she stepped forward to sit beside me on the bed. As she waited for me to respond, she crossed her legs and adjusted her back to face me directly.

  “Oh. It’s not what you think,” I said, waving my hand abruptly. “Albert had been searching for him, and he claims there’s no word on his whereabouts—”

  “Is that a fact? Albert was searching for Okem?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “He told me so himself, which surprised me. I always thought Okem infuriated him.”

  “Hmm! Then leave it alone and focus on Albert. I can’t believe soon you’ll be the Queen of Ide. Will I have to bow to you then?” She asked with a disapproving look.”

  “You don’t have to bow to me, but you can feed me grapes,” I responded, winking and pulling a long hiss from her.

  “In your dreams.”

  “But on a serious note,” I continued. “I can’t pretend Okem never existed after my conversation with Albert. What if Okem is in danger? We are all he has after all.”

 

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