Before Her Father
1175 Words
By mid-morning, they had packed a small travelling bag and made their way to the motor park.
The usual bustle greeted them.
Conductors called out destinations at the top of their voices.
Passengers hurried from one bus to another, balancing bags, coolers and children.
The smell of roasted plantain mixed with the aroma of freshly fried akara drifting from a nearby food stall.
"Ibadan! Ibadan! Last two seats!" a conductor shouted.
"Looks like that's ours," Shola said.
They climbed aboard and found seats beside each other.
As the bus pulled away from Lagos, neither of them spoke much.
The excitement of the journey settled quietly between them.
Every now and then, their eyes met.
Each time, they smiled.
It still amazed them that they had found each other.
The journey seemed shorter than expected.
Soon, familiar landmarks began to appear.
Fáde smiled as the bus entered Ibadan.
"I haven't been home in a while."
By early afternoon, they arrived at her father's compound.
It wasn't a luxurious house.
But it was neat.
The compound had been carefully swept, and colourful flowers grew along the fence.
Fáde stood still for a moment.
"You alright?" Shola asked.
She nodded.
"I am."
She wasn't sure whether she was reassuring him...
Or herself.
Before they reached the entrance, the front door opened.
Her mother stepped outside.
For a second, she simply stared.
Then surprise gave way to a smile.
"Fáde!"
She hurried forward and embraced her daughter warmly.
"My goodness, you didn't even tell us you were coming!"
Fáde laughed.
"I wanted it to be a surprise."
Her mother's eyes then fell on the young man standing respectfully beside her.
"And this handsome young man is...?"
Before Fáde could answer, Shola stepped forward politely.
"Good afternoon, Ma."
"My name is Shola."
He bowed respectfully.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Her mother returned the greeting with a smile that carried both curiosity and warmth.
"You're welcome."
She looked from Shola to Fáde and back again.
"I believe your father will want to meet you."
She stepped aside.
"Please, come inside."
As they crossed the doorway, Shola quietly whispered,
"Are you nervous?"
Fáde smiled without looking at him.
"A little."
He smiled back.
"So am I."
Together...
They walked in to meet the man whose answer would shape the rest of their lives.
It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
He leaned forward.
"There is something you must hear."
Shola sat a little straighter.
"I have lived with one regret for many years."
His voice became quieter.
"I couldn't protect my daughter."
His eyes briefly found Fáde.
"And that failure still haunts me."
The room fell silent.
When he looked back at Shola, there was no anger in his face.
Only the fierce love of a father who had learned too late how precious his daughter truly was.
"If you as much as look at her the wrong way..."
"If you raise your voice at her..."
"If you ever raise your hand against her..."
He paused.
"One of us will be with God sooner than expected."
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Shola slowly rose to his feet.
He bowed his head respectfully.
"Sir..."
"I cannot promise that we will never disagree."
"No marriage is without misunderstanding."
"But I can promise you this..."
"I will honour her."
"I will protect her."
"And every single day, I will remember that she is God's daughter before she becomes my wife."
He looked at Fáde.
"And I will spend the rest of my life giving her reasons to smile."
A tear escaped down Fáde's cheek.
Her father noticed it.
This time...
He smiled.
A genuine smile.
Then he stood, walked towards Shola and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Welcome to the family, my son."
Fáde covered her mouth as tears of joy filled her eyes.
For the first time in her life...
The two men she loved most stood in the same room.
Not as strangers.
But as families.
Fáde's mother was the first to break the silence.
"Enough of all these serious faces," she said with a smile, wiping the corner of her eye. "A guest has been in this house for almost an hour, and nobody has even offered him water."
Everyone laughed.
The heaviness in the room disappeared almost instantly.
"I'm so sorry," Fáde said, standing up quickly. "I'll bring something."
Her mother gently stopped her.
"You've brought him home. Let me do the rest."
Within a few minutes, the centre table was covered with bottles of malt, chilled soft drinks, chin chin, meat pies and a plate of sliced watermelon.
Shola smiled.
"Ma, you didn't have to go through all this."
She waved him off.
"Today, you're no longer a visitor."
"You've become part of this family."
Shola lowered his head respectfully.
"Thank you, Ma."
Her father picked up his bottle of malt before looking at Shola once again.
"So..."
"What exactly do you do for a living?"
Shola smiled.
"I make shoes, Sir."
Her father looked at him with interest.
"You sew shoes?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I learnt the trade years ago, and by God's grace, it has become my livelihood. I design and make them by hand."
Her father nodded thoughtfully.
"An honest trade."
"There is dignity in any work that puts food on the table."
"I've always believed a hardworking man is wealthier than a lazy rich man."
"Thank you, Sir."
"I may not own much today," Shola continued, "but I work with my hands, and I trust God to bless the labour of those hands."
Her father smiled.
"That's the kind of answer I was hoping to hear."
"And where do you worship?"
Shola mentioned the name of his church.
Her father smiled.
"So..."
"God truly knew what He was doing."
Fáde looked from one man to the other.
The conversation was flowing more easily now.
It felt as though the invisible wall between them had quietly disappeared.
After a while, her father cleared his throat again.
"There is one person I would like to meet."
"Your uncle."
Shola nodded immediately.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
"He has wanted to meet the woman I intend to marry."
"And now..."
"I think he'll be even happier to meet the family that raised her."
"When can he come?"
"I'll speak with him as soon as I return to Lagos."
"If it pleases you, Sir, we'll come at whatever date is convenient for your family."
Her father smiled.
"Good."
"That is how these things should be done."
He looked at his daughter.
"You chose well."
The words caught Fáde completely by surprise.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
All her life...
She had longed to hear her father speak words that carried pride instead of disappointment.
Now they had finally come.
Not when she was a little girl.
Not when she was a teenager.
But now.
She smiled through the tears gathering in her eyes.
"Thank you, Daddy."
He looked away for a brief moment, as though hiding emotions of his own.
- Writer
