Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Only for love
ONLY FOR LOVE
By
Patrick Achitabwino
The day we met I was seated under a large acacia tree, my head leaning on my knees. Tears had stopped flowing out of my eyes, they were springing their way into my heart where only my blood could see them.
A crumpled piece of paper laid on the ground. The message was clear: the family of Nyamazaini is inviting friends and relatives to the wedding of their only son, Gracious to Ziolire Sokonombwe…As if that was not enough, Billy’s pumpkin head laid on the side of Ziolire’s on the photo.
I had called Gracious, unbelievably his voice sounded far much distant, barren from the love that it used to evaporate. We fell in love by coincidence, he had told me. He lost interest in me long enough than he could remember. My heart had grown deaf. I cannot recall anything he said. I only recall the phone clicking as it went dead.
I felt a tap on my shoulder as I reluctantly lifted my head up. A zoo attendant who later told me his name was Tiyanjana had squatted. He saw the marks drawn on my cheeks by a flood of tears.
His mother had told him never to cry, Tiyanjana told me. Crying would not solve my problems. It was not the end of my life.
I felt the broken pieces of love being mended in my heart. He embraced me and I felt the warmth of his chest. Whatever was it that was killing my heart, he reassured me, he was very sorry.
Tiyanjana told me he believed there is always time for everything. His mother died when he was young. His father married another woman who chased him away. He grew up along the streets until an orphans care center offered him solace.
He told me he acquired his school certificate and later on became a zoo attendant. I narrated to him the successes of my father as a businessman. I told him a betraying boyfriend wounded my heart. He sympathised with me and told me that the betrayer was not the one the Almighty had chosen for me.
I felt Tiyanjana felt the pains razoring my heart. He had suffered the same pains. The mother of the girl he had fallen in love with could not accept him for a son-in-law. He was told point blank that over her dead body, she could not accept a man who is not a graduate to marry her daughter. That was the point where love and money crossed paths as he told me.
I saw him again in the supermarket. He saw me. We saw each other. Our eyes twinkled at the joy of meeting again. We all waited and searched for words to say but the words refused to come.
I recall the Friday I went to the zoo happily again. Firstly, the hug was wonderful. There was a look in his eyes that seem to tell him that I would succumb to the weight of his love. One thing was clear, he was only waiting for the moment my knees of love would collapse. I was waiting too. My heart was waiting.
He told me he felt comfortable when I am around. He told me I make the world a good heaven for him.
The words tore my heart deeper than a razor blade. Aren’t razor blades better? For they cut where you can see but words cut where you cannot see. We hugged and I closed my eyes as the bar magnets of love pulled our lips closer. I felt being loved again. I felt what is it to be in the hands of a loving boyfriend.
I am the reason he would live in this life for, he assured me. If it was not for him, I would not have fallen in love again, I too confessed.
But fate lied a few centimetres away from us. My parents chased him when he came home to see me. I fled home for him. I was more comfortable in his bed-sitter house, a smokey-lamp made of a kerosene bottle sprouting a yellow light. For the first time I learnt what a nuisance rats can be. They kept chatting, chasing each other and even tasting our toes. It rained for a few minutes and some astray raindrops tore their way into the house. We held each other at the corner but still I had found the happiness I could not get in my fathers house.
At this time TVs did not matter, DVD was a vocabularly forgotten. I was more comfortable having supper on a mat and sitting on a chopped log turned into a small chair. I loved his trust. I loved his honesty.
My parents came two days later oozing anger. They whisked me into the Mercedes benz. I was crying. I saw Tiyanjana crying. I told my parents it was only for love that I was with Tiyanjana and that not even death could part me away from him
What did I know about death, about life, about love, to mention death and love in one mouth? My mother had fumed as dad was breathing angrily. They ordered a watch guard that I should not be allowed to walk out of the house, not even to be visited by anyone. I was ordered not to answer any phone call.
Four days later I escaped to the zoo only to be told that he has not been reporting for duties. I rushed to his home and his neighbour told me he had been admitted at Chitakale hospital the last night. I went there only to find him moaning all alone in bed.
Tiyanjana told me that since I left his home he resorted to bear drinking to kill the sorrows. He said he could not remember where he had been attacked at night. Worse still, the attackers had dismembered him and other passers by rescued him. He had been to the theatre but the damage was too severe that he would never be a man again. I cried. He told me never to cry. He said God would give me another good guy. I said no, not any other except him.
I saw papa and mama stampeding in like soldiers in a fierce combat. I beg you papa, I reasoned with him, take him to the private hospital. He looked at us, Tiyanjana was shivering with fear. Papa talked to a doctor at a corner for a few minutes.
I cannot love a man who is not a man to take my daughter for a wife, he shouted at me. With tears spiralling down my cheeks I told him that a man is one who cares for a woman. A man is not a man because of children. A man is a man because of the passion he has for his wife.
The watchman dragged me out of the ward into the vehicle. I am now a prisoner at home. Love is in a cage. I am still waiting for the day I will escape to be with Tiyanjana again. We will meet and escape to lands where love is left free and we would reminiscence over the past with laughter. Then I will no longer be Ezelyn Sabola. I will be Mrs Ezelyn Tiyanjana Tchete. Only for love I love him.
