A New Home
1049 Words
The afternoon sun hung lazily over Lagos as Shola unlocked the door to his room.
He turned the key slowly before looking at Fáde.
"This is it."
She smiled.
"Our home?"
"Our home."
For a moment, neither of them moved.
It wasn't a large apartment.
It wasn't painted with expensive colours, nor did it boast elegant furniture.
There was a neatly made bed pushed against one wall, a small wardrobe beside it, a wooden table with two chairs, and a sewing machine in one corner where Shola occasionally repaired finishing touches on his handmade shoes before delivering them to customers.
The room carried the faint scent of fresh paint.
Earlier that week, Shola had stayed up late scrubbing the floor, washing the curtains and fixing the broken window latch.
He wanted everything to be as perfect as he could make it.
Not because it was luxurious...
But because she deserved to feel welcomed.
Fáde slowly stepped inside.
Her eyes wandered around the room.
She noticed the neatly arranged shoes on a wooden shelf.
The Bible resting on the table.
The small flower vase beside the window.
Then she smiled.
"You cleaned."
Shola laughed.
"Is it that obvious?"
She nodded.
"The room has been expecting me."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I may have cleaned it twice."
"Twice?"
"Maybe three times."
She laughed so hard that she had to hold his arm.
"I knew it!"
"I wanted your first day here to be special."
She looked at him for a long moment.
"It already is."
He reached for one of the bags they had brought from Ibadan.
"I'll put these away."
"No."
She gently took the bag from him.
"Today..."
She smiled.
"Let me begin acting like your wife."
Before he could protest, she carried the bag towards the wardrobe.
She folded their clothes carefully, making space for both of them.
When she finished, she stepped back and admired the small wardrobe.
Two lives...
Now sharing one space.
Shola watched quietly.
For the first time, the room no longer looked like a bachelor's room.
It looked lived in.
It looked loved.
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
"Ah, Shola!"
It was his neighbour, Mama Bisi.
"I heard you brought your wife home."
Without waiting for permission, she stepped in with a broad smile.
"So this is our new bride!"
Fáde greeted her respectfully.
"Good evening, Ma."
Mama Bisi beamed.
"Welcome, my daughter."
She looked around the room before turning to Shola with a playful frown.
"You've been hiding her from us all this time?"
Shola laughed.
"I only just found her."
"Hmm."
Mama Bisi chuckled.
"May your home know peace."
"May laughter never leave this room."
"And may God bless the work of your hands."
"Amen," they both replied.
After she left, silence returned.
A peaceful silence.
Shola walked over to the window and looked outside.
Then he turned back to Fáde.
"It's not much."
She walked towards him.
"It doesn't have to be."
"As long as there's love here..."
"...it will always be enough."
Shola smiled.
He reached for her hand.
Without another word, they stood side by side, looking around the little room that would hold their dreams, their prayers, their laughter...
And one day...
Their tears.
Outside, life carried on as it always had.
Inside, a new chapter had quietly begun.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
They simply stood there, listening to the sounds drifting in through the window. Somewhere outside, children laughed as they chased one another around the compound. A woman called out to her neighbour across the fence, while the distant sound of a generator hummed steadily in the background.
Fáde slowly walked towards the window.
"It's peaceful here," she said.
Shola joined her.
"It isn't always this quiet."
"No?"
He smiled.
"In the mornings, everyone seems to be rushing somewhere. By evening, you'll know almost every neighbour without introducing yourself."
She laughed.
"That sounds like Lagos."
"It is."
Her eyes wandered around the compound.
"I think I'll like it here."
"I hope so."
She turned to him.
"I know so."
Shola smiled, relieved by her answer.
"I've been wondering..."
"What?"
"Whether you'd miss your old environment."
"I probably will."
She answered honestly.
"I'll miss seeing my parents whenever I want."
"I'll miss hearing my former place television."
She laughed softly.
"I'll even miss the noise."
Her smile slowly faded.
"But I know this is where I'm supposed to be."
Shola nodded.
"I promise you'll never have to regret that decision."
She looked at him with gentle eyes.
"I don't expect a perfect life, Shola."
"I've learnt that perfect lives don't exist."
"What I want..."
She reached for his hand.
"...is someone who won't stop choosing us when life becomes difficult."
He held her hand firmly.
"I'll choose you."
"Every day."
"No matter what."
She smiled.
"And I'll choose you too."
A gentle breeze drifted through the open window, lifting the curtain slightly before it settled again.
Shola suddenly remembered something.
"Wait here."
He walked over to the wardrobe and reached for a small envelope tucked carefully beneath a folded shirt.
When he returned, he handed it to her.
"What's this?"
"Open it."
She looked at him curiously before sliding out its contents.
Inside was a single photograph.
It had been taken on the day they first met.
Neither of them had noticed someone nearby capturing the moment.
She stared at it for a long time.
"I didn't even know this picture existed."
"I didn't either."
"My friend sent it to me last month."
She smiled as she traced the edge of the photograph with her finger.
"We look like strangers."
"We were."
"And now..."
She looked up at him.
"...we're husband and wife."
Those words settled gently between them.
Husband.
Wife.
Simple words.
Yet they carried a lifetime of meaning.
Shola carefully took the photograph from her.
"I was thinking..."
"Hmm?"
"We should frame it."
"So when we're old..."
He smiled.
"...we'll remember where everything began."
Fáde laughed.
"You've already started talking about growing old?"
"I intend to."
"And I intend to grow old with you."
She rested her head lightly against his shoulder.
For the first time in many years, tomorrow no longer felt uncertain.
It felt like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.
- Writer
