LOVE SCANDAL : My Professor's Secret

LOVE SCANDAL : My Professor's Secret

Chapter 5: The Engagement

I did not want to go to church at all.

We did not even plan for church service. I only came to Lagos with one pink gown and one big t-shirt. What will I wear to the big Lekki church. What will Lagos fine girls think of me wearing the same gown twice.

But his mother already knocked on our bedroom door by 5 am. Loud knocking.

My children. My couple. Wake up. Thanksgiving service is 7 am. My pastor must see my future daughter in law. He must pray for you people.

I looked at Damola. He was just coming out of the bathroom, white towel on his shoulder. Water was still dripping from his chest and his hair. He looked fresh and handsome and completely awake.

Mum, we will come down now, he shouted to the door.

He looked at me where I sat in bed.

You have to wear the pink gown again. My mother does not joke with church thanksgiving. She will be angry if you wear a t-shirt.

Again. Same gown for birthday party and for church. Lagos people will definitely laugh at me. They will say this girl has only one gown.

But I wore it. I packed my hair neatly. I wore my roommate's bonestraight wig again and tried to make it look fresh. I wore small powder and lip gloss. I tried my best to look classy as he said.

We entered his mother's car. Big black Benz. The driver was driving us. His mother sat in the front seat like a queen, me and Damola sat at the back. His hand was placed on my lap because his mother was watching us from the front mirror. His thumb was drawing a small circle on my lap and making my body shiver.

Amara, my daughter, after church we will go to the market. I want to buy you gold jewelry. Real gold. Our family bride must shine. You cannot wear fake jewelry in my family.

Gold. Jewelry. Real gold. Ma, I am fake o. Do not buy gold for a fake girlfriend. I wanted to shout.

We reached church. RCCG, a very big fine church in Lekki. Fine fine women in big gele, fine fine men in fine native. Everybody knows his mother. They were greeting her.

Mummy Damola. Happy birthday ma.

Mummy, God bless your new age. Sixty looks good on you.

Mummy, you are glowing.

We entered inside. Front seat. Reserved seats with her name tag.

The pastor was preaching about love. About Ruth and Boaz and the divine husband. I was not even hearing the word. I was only thinking inside my head: God, please let this day end quickly so I can go back to Ilorin and hide inside the hostel.

After preaching, the pastor said with a big smile: We have a special thanksgiving today. Our Mama, Deaconess Adesina is sixty today. And she has good news to share with the church.

His mother stood up immediately. She was smiling like she won the lottery. She collected a microphone from the pastor.

Praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord echoed.

On my sixtieth birthday, God has given me another gift. My only son, Professor Damola, has finally found a wife after many years of waiting. He brought her all the way from Ilorin to Lagos to see me. Her name is Amara, she is a medical student, very intelligent, very respectful, and God fearing girl. I have waited for this day for five years.

Everybody clapped. Everybody turned to look at me in my pink gown. Hundreds of eyes.

I wanted the ground to open and swallow me.

Pastor, please, I want you to pray for them specially. That their marriage will happen next year. That my son will finally leave me and have his own family and give me grandchildren.

The pastor smiled and pointed at us.

Where is the girl. Where is the lucky girl. Come out to the altar.

Damola held my hand tight and stood me up from the chair. My legs were shaking.

No, ma, it is too early, I whispered to him, panicking. We did not agree on this.

Just play along. Please. Five minutes, he whispered back into my ear.

We went to the altar. The pastor put hand on our heads. The whole church is standing and watching.

In Jesus name, I join you together. No more delay in your life. Next year, we will gather here in this same church for your wedding. You will have beautiful children. Amen.

The church shouted loud Amen that shook the building.

I closed my eyes. Tears were coming out from my eyes. Not because I was happy. Because I was scared. Very scared. What if this video goes viral.

What if my HOD sees this video. What if someone posts this again on a school group. JUPEB runs girl now engaged to a professor inside Lagos church. That caption will kill my admission totally.

After service, everybody surrounded us outside. Congrats. Congrats.

Amara you are lucky o, your professor is fine and rich and tall.

My daughter, you try, you lock professor.

Fine girl, fine husband.

One woman even gave me white envelope. Take, for your wedding preparation. God bless your union.

I collected it with a shaking hand. Envelope with money inside. For a wedding that does not exist.

Outside church, behind a small building where nobody was seeing us, I pulled Damola hand hard.

Sir, please, this is too much. Engagement. Wedding. Next year. That was not in agreement we signed. You said seven days of a fake girlfriend, not a fake wife.

He was also confused. His face was worried. I did not know my mother would do that. She is dramatic. She loves church announcements. I am sorry.

Dramatic. She announced a wedding that does not exist. My people in Ilorin will see a video. My classmates will see it. My admission will be gone.

Amara, calm down, he said and held my two hands firmly. We were standing behind church, nobody seeing us, only the sound of the choir still singing inside. Listen to me. My mother has a high BP. Very high. If we tell her now that we are faking it, she will collapse here. She will have a crisis. Let us just finish these seven days. After that, I will tell her slowly that we broke up because of long distance. Okay. I will handle it. Trust me.

And the gold. The jewelry she wants to buy now.

We will buy it. You will keep it. It is compensation for all this stress I put you through. For all this embarrassment.

Compensation. Gold as compensation. Who compensates for a fake girlfriend with real gold.

I looked at him. He was very close. Too close. His hand is still holding my hand tight. Church music is still playing inside. His eyes were looking at my lips.

Amara, he said low, voice soft, You look very beautiful when you cry. Has anyone ever told you that.

Nobody has ever told me that in my life. Tunde only used to say stop crying na, you dey irritate me.

Do not say that, sir, I whispered.

Damola.

Damola, do not say that. Rule Five. Remember Rule Five.

He smiled and came even closer. His face was near my face now. I could feel his breath.

I think we broke Rule Five since last night when you slept on my chest and I did not want to wake you up, he said.

Before I could answer, before I could even breathe, his phone rang loudly inside his pocket.

And this time, the caller's name on screen was Dr Bisi, our HOD.

He picked a call quickly.

Hello ma. Yes, we are in Lagos. What. Video. What video are you talking about.

His face changed completely. From soft to hard stone.

He looked at me with wide eyes.

Amara, someone posted our church video on UNILORIN MLS w******p group. Your course mates are already commenting.

My legs shook and I held the church wall for support.

The scandal has entered church. Now everybody will think I used jazz as a professor.