18th January 2021
Love is a rebirth as soft as the skin of a newborn baby, and it came to me as an answered prayer in the form of Nnenna.
It started the first time I heard her voice, and a fire started to burn fiercely from my ears down to my vagina. The pleasant burn came with an urgency to cool it off either from merging my heart with hers the same way opposites attract or by getting eaten out by her till my body quivered and my wetness doused the fire.
So I got her attention. We were both participants in a Twitter space where everyone gathered, intending to connect with other people or find love. I was searching for the latter, and the universe said Amen.
Nnenna had been shooting her shot at one of the girls in the space with hilarious pickup lines, but it felt like it was all directed at me. I didn’t understand how her voice commanded that much
authority. I remember how I squeezed my legs when she was bantering with one of the other guys and said in pidgin, “Guy no dey follow me talk like that.”, and switched to the Queen’s English swiftly and seductively, “Call me daddy. I’m your Daddy.” I’m certain I fell to my knees.
I thought of how to get her to notice me. And the idea came. How about I use a catchy poetic line and match her energy since the other girl was snoozing?
So I tapped the request button, and after waiting for a lifetime, the host finally accepted my request to speak.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Amara, and I’m shooting my shot at Nnenna.” Following my first statement were some ouuus and ahhhs from the host and speakers. It got me a little nervous, and I considered leaving the space, but I remembered that my mother didn’t give birth to a quitter. “First, I’d like to say you have a nice voice. It’s enchanting.”
“Thank you. That’s so sweet of you.” Nnenna replied.
“You’re welcome, Nnenna. I’m going to read you a haphazard poem from my head. And hopefully, you can give me the last word if my poem impresses you.” I added with a chuckle. And she burst out laughing. “ I love your energy, Amara. Eager to hear what you have for me.”
“Well, if I were told to describe you with something divine, I’d call you a temple because you’re as holy as a sanctuary. And I always want to be saved inside you.”
The cheers from the host and speakers almost drowned me in excitement. My ancestors must have been proud of me. But my excitement slowly faded when I didn’t hear from the one person whose
reply mattered the most. The silence from Nnenna’s end was too loud. My mind drifted to many places. Maybe the line wasn’t good enough. I should have shut the hell up.
As I was about to exit the space, the most anticipated voice came up, and my anxiety spiked. I gradually reverted to calmness as the words escaped her mouth. I guess this is how the woman with the issue of blood felt after she held Jesus’s garment and received her healing.
“Omg, Amara. I apologise for the break in transmission. You left me speechless. You know what? Let’s get off this space and have an actual phone conversation.”
So we got off the space, and I slid in her Dm with my phone number.
March 20, 2022.
“Do you think we could get married on the moon? Yunno, we’ll just do our thing in that cute crescent.” Nnenna asked while we curled up on the couch. She is fond of asking questions I never have answers to.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I replied.
“Oh.” She said and pouted her lips. She does this whenever I don’t reply to her questions the way she envisioned.
“Now you need to stop doing your mouth like that. I used to do it a lot as a kid, and my mom called me…”
“Amara longy longy.” She completed the sentence before I could and burst out in laughter. Then I joined her. Together, we laughed till our eyes were teary. I appreciate how love intensifies mundane moments.
“But on a serious note, I’d love to marry you someday.”
July 14, 2021
Nnenna,
Words can move realms, light the beginning of tunnels, and speak unspoken feelings. I’ve held on to words my whole life. I love the assurance they carry. I love how they consume me and refresh my soul.
The first conversation we had after that Twitter space stamped the decision I’m making today, which is why I’m writing you this letter. You said, “If you truly see me as your sanctuary, I promise to be heaven for you.”
I don’t know the depth to which you meant that at that point, but it amazes me how real those words have manifested in six months.
It’s been six months of experiencing life through your lens, of merging the raging passions in our bodies, of loving you. You blow my mind.
It’s funny how we’ve had bad sex only once. Do you remember? It was the night after our second date at The
Cavemen’s concert. We were terribly drunk by the time we reached your place. We attempted to bump coochies several times, and each attempt was an epic fail because we were too wasted to process the moment.
I remember how hilarious it was waking up with our heads facing opposite sides on the bed and our legs intertwined in
an awkward scissor position. I love how it didn’t feel weird. I love how we laughed it off and proceeded to have
earth-shattering sex right after. I love everything about you. The little pout you make with your lips when I don’t have answers to your questions, the way you tenderly say Amara, and the cutest ritual of reading poetry to me every night. Chinelo Okparanta wrote in Under the Udala trees, “Maybe love was some combination of friendship and infatuation. A deeply felt affection accompanied by a certain sort of awe. And by gratitude. And by a desire for a lifetime of togetherness.”
I know it’s cliche to say be my girlfriend. So I’ll rephrase that. Will you, Nnenna Obinna, affirm my desire to be with you for a lifetime?
December 24, 2022
December is the busiest season of the year for us at the salon. The air is thick with Christmas preparation. Christmas is special for Nigerians, not necessarily because Christ was born, but because so much shege has been experienced throughout the year, and the end of the year means the close of the 365-page long chapter of many traumas. The celebration is the best avenue to escape into the hope of a favourable new year.
I spent most of my day braiding and weaving zig zag cornrows for 80 per cent of the clients who walked into the salon today. The style originated in the ’80s, and I think the recurrence of this trend is a result of people travelling back to their roots and admitting retro styles are fashionable. My hands are aching terribly. The only joy I had came from thinking of my date with Nnenna later tonight.
I closed for the day a little earlier than I should have, at 7 pm. I went home to freshen up and prepare for the date. Although I was filled with so much joy, I couldn’t help but wonder if everything was fine with Nnenna. It was her first time declining to pick me up for a date.
Nevertheless, I continued to get ready.
When I arrived at the venue, Nnenna redirected me to come upstairs into one of the rooms as opposed to meeting at the hotel’s restaurant, where we agreed on a food date. Something was off. I could feel it.
I opened the door to a dimly lit room full of roses with Black Atlass and Jessie Reyez’s Sacrifice playing in the background. The room’s ambience left me enthralled and awestruck. I have never imagined what my proposal would look like and certainly never expected it at this moment.
Just as I stepped in, Nnenna walked up to me, and in what happened to be the best moment of my life, she looked into my eyes for a minute and then said, “ I meant it when I said I wanted to get married to you. Maybe not on the moon today, but I hope this moment means so much
to you as much as it does to me. Thank you for existing with me in every realm of our personalities. Thank you, Amara, for being. This is my not-so-little way of affirming your desire to be with me for a lifetime. I love you beyond the tide. Please marry me.”
Ahh, who’s cutting onions? Me, Tiny Amara getting married? “Yes, Nnenna. Yes.”
