The story of uneven love

Long before riches, the bitterness and the wives, before wealth came to him live a river in flood, Gilbert was just a boy with empty hands and wild dreams, He lived in the dusty town of Umuoka village, where red earth sand stained feet, and ambition was a luxury. His family had little, his father was a palm wine tapper with trembling knees, and his mother sold roasted plantain along the roadside of Umuoka village. He was just a boy who had nothing to his name, with a family that could not afford three square meals a day. Gilbert grew up with the smell of firewood in his clothes and hunger in his eyes, he would always go into the woods to fetch firewood because he watched his family struggle to make a living, and on market days he took them there to sell. Gilbert took it upon himself that he must be great in life and must work hard no matter what to find his way out of poverty. He was a boy full of ambition and good thoughts to make it in life. It was in this small drenched village that he met Roseline. They met when they were just teenagers, in the dusty streets of their small village, where dreams were bigger than pockets. She wasn’t the prettiest girl in town, but she carried fire in her. She walks with so much confidence in her, and her steps are quick and calm, when she talks, she speaks with so much boldness in her, she could cut a man’s pride down with just one sentence if he annoyed her. Roseline was a child born with love, with her father and mother on her side, she had all the support a girl of her age could get from both her parents. Roseline was the daughter of a local farmer and her mother owned a pepper stall in the market She was often seen fanning herself with plantain leaves while scolding customers who tried to bargain too low. She is known for her quick smile and stubborn spirit. Their first meeting was at a marketplace on a dry afternoon. Gilbert had come to sell firewood, with his hands blistered from carrying logs of wood, his shirt soaked in sweat as he walked through the narrow rows of traders, he tripped and crashed into a pile of peppers, knocking over Roseline’s display “Are you blind?” she snapped, her hands on her waist. “Do you walk with your eyes closed?” “I am sorry, " said Gilbert. Roseline hissed and frowned at him. “I said I’m sorry,” Gilbert muttered, brushing dirt off his shirt. Roseline hissed again, then bent down to arrange her peppers, Gilbert helped her silently, he was ashamed but impressed, no one had spoken to him like that in a long time. The next day, he returned to the market but not to sell firewood, but with a smile on his face and an apology, he came to Roseline and told her he wanted to buy one tiny Maggie cube. She stared at him suspiciously, then served him anyway. He returned the day after and the next. That was how it began… They talked more often after that, under a mango tree by the well, behind the market stores, gisting and laughing. Gilbert told her about his dreams and aspirations, to become a very wealthy man, build houses, own shops, and be respected. What he wanted was beyond the firewood business. Gilbert would often laugh and say, “I will be rich one day. I will own shops in three towns, maybe even build a big house in Enugu.” Instead of laughing, Roseline nodded. “You'd better hurry up then. Life doesn’t wait for slow dreamers.” But something about her belief in him lit a fire in his chest. She didn’t see him for what he lacked, but for what he could become. Soon, she began sneaking out of her mother’s stall to meet him behind the old Catholic church, where they would sit on stones and talk about everything. She spoke about wanting to leave the village someday, to see cities she had only heard about. He promised that when he made it, he would take her everywhere. Roseline believed in him, she encouraged him, when his family struggled she would bring food to him in secret, even when he decided to move to the city to start something, she was the one who packed his bag and told him not to look back until he made it. At twenty-one, Gilbert left Umuoka for Onitsha with just a borrowed bag, a pair of sandals, and a heart full of hunger. He worked as an apprentice in a provision store, learning how to sell, how to convince, and how to count every kobo. He sent letters home, short, scribbled notes that Roseline kept under her pillow. “I’m learning fast. My oga said I’m sharper than his last two boys.” “Tell your mother that I still remember her ofe nsala soup.” “I’ll return when I’m ready to start something of my own.” Five years later he returned, not rich yet but he came back for her just like he promised, with a small motorcycle, three boxes of goods, and enough money to open a kiosk by the roadside. The villagers welcomed him with praise, Roseline was so happy to see him, she stood quietly by the door of her father’s house with tears in her eyes. “I told you I’d return for you,” Gilbert said, holding out a bag of clothes he brought for her. Inside were lace wrappers, perfumes, and a tiny silver ring. Roseline was so happy that Gilbert came back for her, with love in her eyes she welcomed him with a warm hug and tears of joy on her face.