A Country Between Them
974 Words
The apartment in Toronto felt colder than Alicia expected.
Not because of the weather.
Because of loneliness.
She stood beside the small window of Agnes’ apartment, staring at the unfamiliar streets below. Snow rested on parked cars like white blankets, while strangers hurried across sidewalks wrapped in heavy jackets.
Everything looked beautiful.
And empty.
Alicia folded her arms tightly around herself.
Back in Nigeria, mornings were noisy. Neighbors shouted greetings across balconies. Generators rumbled endlessly. Street vendors announced their goods before sunrise.
But here…
Silence.
Too much silence.
Her phone vibrated suddenly.
Bob.
A smile appeared immediately on her face.
“Baby!” she answered quickly.
Bob’s tired voice came through the speaker. “Have you eaten?”
Alicia smiled sadly. “That should be my question.”
“I asked first.”
She sat down slowly on the edge of the bed. “Yes, Mama Agnes made rice earlier.”
“How’s the weather?”
“Terrible.”
Bob laughed softly.
“I told you.”
“It feels like somebody opened deep freezer and forgot to close it.”
Bob’s laughter grew louder this time.
God…
She missed hearing him laugh.
For the next thirty minutes they talked about everything and nothing,visa updates, Nigerian gossip, future plans, memories from their wedding.
Then came the silence both of them feared.
“When are you coming?” Alicia whispered finally.
Bob looked away from his phone screen though she could not see him.
“I’ll apply again next month.”
“You said that last month.”
“I know.”
“You promised me we won’t stay apart like this.”
Bob closed his eyes painfully.
“I’m trying, Alicia.”
Her eyes became wet immediately.
“I know.”
After the call ended, Alicia remained seated quietly for a long time.
The distance between Nigeria and Canada suddenly felt bigger than oceans.
It felt endless.
At first, Agnes treated Alicia kindly.
Very kindly.
Too kindly.
“You don’t need to stress yourself,” Agnes would say whenever Alicia tried helping with chores.
“You’re my daughter now.”
Agnes bought her winter clothes, expensive perfumes, handbags, and even took her sightseeing around the city.
Everywhere they went, Agnes proudly introduced Alicia to friends.
“This is my son’s wife.”
And Alicia respected her deeply for everything she was doing.
After all, the woman had opened her home to her.
But slowly… little things began changing.
Strange things.
Agnes started becoming overly protective.
Overly attached.
Sometimes Alicia would wake up in the morning and find Agnes staring at her strangely.
Not like a mother-in-law.
Something else.
Something she couldn’t explain.
One evening, after dinner, Agnes poured wine into two glasses.
“You should relax more,” she told Alicia.
Alicia smiled politely. “I’m okay.”
Agnes moved closer on the couch.
“You think too much about Bob.”
Alicia looked surprised. “He’s my husband.”
“I know,” Agnes said softly.
There was something unusual in her tone.
Something heavy.
Alicia noticed it immediately.
But she ignored it.
Months passed.
Bob continued receiving rejection emails from immigration.
Each rejection slowly destroyed him.
His savings disappeared little by little from application fees and agents promising fake hope.
Still, he refused to stop trying.
Meanwhile, Alicia’s visa expiration date kept drawing closer.
Nine months left.
Then eight.
Then seven.
The pressure became unbearable.
One night Bob called Alicia with desperation in his voice.
“We need another solution.”
Alicia sat upright immediately. “What kind of solution?”
Bob hesitated.
Then spoke carefully.
“What if somebody there marries you legally?”
Silence.
Alicia’s face hardened instantly.
“What?”
“Just on paper.”
“No.”
“Baby, listen”
“No, Bob.”
“It’s temporary.”
“I said no.”
“If your papers expire, they’ll deport you back home.”
“Then let them deport me!”
Bob’s voice suddenly rose.
“And everything we suffered for will become useless?”
The words hit hard.
Alicia looked down silently.
Bob continued more calmly this time.
“Just for immigration purposes. Nothing more.”
Alicia’s chest tightened painfully.
“This is dangerous.”
“I know.”
“This is fraud.”
“I know.”
She covered her face with one hand.
“Oh God…”
“I’m doing this for us,” Bob whispered.
For several days, the conversation continued.
Arguments.
Tears.
Silence.
Fear.
Eventually desperation defeated morality.
Bob began contacting Nigerian friends living in Canada, begging somebody to help his wife through a legal marriage arrangement.
Most refused immediately.
Others demanded huge amounts of money.
Some insulted him for even suggesting it.
Then one night, while staring at the ceiling in darkness, Bob suddenly remembered something.
Or someone.
His mother.
Agnes.
He sat upright slowly.
His heartbeat increased.
No.
Impossible.
But the idea refused to leave his mind.
The next morning, he called Agnes directly.
“Mama… I need your help.”
Agnes listened quietly as Bob explained everything.
The visa problems.
The fear of deportation.
The fake marriage idea.
Then finally, the impossible request.
“Mama… please marry Alicia.”
Silence filled the call.
Long silence.
Then Agnes spoke slowly.
“You want me to marry your wife?”
“Only legally.”
Agnes laughed softly.
“You are asking for madness.”
“I know.”
“You trust me that much?”
“She’s safe with you.”
Agnes became quiet again.
Very quiet.
Then finally,
“Okay.”
Bob released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Thank you, Mama.”
But on the other end of the phone, Agnes stared thoughtfully out her apartment window.
Something unreadable moved behind her eyes.
Something dangerous.
And somewhere deep inside her chest…
A door had just opened.
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