A Valentine Proposal- Part 3
A game of Chess
2 degrees, 3 growing businesses, and 1 weeding to plan.
My father always told me
“Never be a man’s pawn, either you be the Queen or you change the game”
I raised myself with that mentality. It made me a bore to many men, but a well respected one.
The hints of marriage were beginning to rain like snow after my Master’s degree. My mother was starting to ask questions that will leave one suspecting her capacity to marry me off in my sleep. She was overly concerned.
My father never brought up the subject matter in my presence, he felt it best to leave such matters of the heart to my mother. All he knew was that his only daughter, the first of her name, wouldn’t marry any man who will treat her like a Pawn.
Pawn? This was relative to the three of us. To my father; a man who wouldn’t value me enough and house me for the sake of marriage. He believes my life was worth a lot more than the household.
To my mother, a man who will mistreat me and isn’t half as intelligent and educated as I was. With 2 first-class degrees in English and Communications and a successful entrepreneur, a man approaching must have something either equivalent or higher to win her daughter over.
While I likened Pawn to a lack of respect and discipline. It became more than that with each passing year. At 23 years old, a man approaching me had better have marriage on the table, he had to have a home where he wants to wife me and either a job or business doing. I wasn’t out for any flamboyant lifestyle. All I wanted was a serious man with the list checked.
So far, none of them had checked my list, therefore I kept my head high and knees bent, praying and hoping in my singleness. Another Valentine was fast approaching, I was never one to be bothered, but at 23 years and 10 months, there was a lot to be bothered about.
Just last year alone, I was a maid of honour and Chief bride’s maids to 2 of my university friends. In a week’s time, another one was going to be taking her vows. If I say I wasn’t bothered that would be a lie.
This got me thinking. Did I do wrong to discourage the nobel men who had an interest in me? Not that they checked my list, but I was now willing to take whoever was available. My mother was asking questions, my friends were asking questions, and my employees were watching me cautiously with their eyes.
Valentine’s day in your parent’s house hits different. No husband, No boyfriend, Not even an admirer, until I heard a ring from the bell.
“Someone is here to see you” My mother rushes into my room. Her face reeling indifference.
A guest for me on valentine’s day. God surely had other things planned for me.
I stepped into the living room and I almost stumbled upon seeing Him.
“Have a seat Sir” My mother gestures. She still had that look of indiffernce. The woman is difficult to read most times.
What was he doing in our home? Thank God he wasn’t holding any romantic gifts this time. Wait! What if there is a ring in his back pocket? My thoughts were over-exercising themselves, some doing press-ups- wondering if this was going to be another Valentine proposal.
“I didn’t see you at the youth meeting last week, hope no problem” He began
“I was a bit sick, but I’m better now” I lied.
After leaving for my 1 and half years Master’s program in Communication, I hadn’t seen much of Pastor Korede. Until 3 weeks after my return, on my way to oversee work at the business centre. He offered me a ride, but I turned him down and drove myself to work. He still wasn’t married, all indication I still needed to keep my distance from him.
He kept his own distance seeing how unreceptive I was. He finally mustered to send me a WhatsApp Message inviting me to a youth meeting, which I ignored.
“Thank God for that,” He said. He looked around the house. My mother sensing whatever she was sensing stood up to leave “I need to check what I’m cooking in the kitchen; I wouldn’t want my husband to come to a burnt house”
First, I do most of the cooking, and second, my father is a late-night worker. He wasn’t to be home until the late-night hour. Whatever the reason why my mother felt she had to leave Pastor Korede and me, it definitely had nothing to do with cooking meals.
“I made a vow to God not to pursue you anymore” Pastor Korede began. “When God first showed me, I was going to marry a woman close to a decade younger than I, I too was bewildered, most of all, afraid of how I was going to tell her. I finally mustered all the courage, honour and dignity to tell you two and a half years ago”
He took a deep pause, before proceeding. His face was honest, pure and intentional. The things a man will do to get a woman, sometimes you will wonder why there wasn’t more to life than money, marriage and work. For me, there was more.
Pastor Korede wasn’t any Pawn, by everyone’s standard. He checked my list with the exclusion I didn’t feel the same way for him, not even the slightest physical attraction. How was God sending me to be with a man I wasn’t appealed to? Not to mention the age gap.
“Maybe I didn’t hear the message clearly” he continued “because I never expected it to be this hard. Pastoring a large church for over 5 years has led me to believe all things with God are easy as long you obeyed. This experience, chasing you was really hard, the hardest thing I have had to do”
Add to the list vulnerable. An international Pastor’s hardest point was trying to win me over. I felt something in my throat, it refused to gulp down.
Ah-ha! Guilt!
I felt guilty. Maybe I too mishandled the whole situation. He has good intentions; he always had.
“I won’t be on your neck anymore. But I beg you of one thing. Return back to the youth meeting. The youth have been longing to see you.” He employed “You have a strong calling; I wouldn’t want you to miss that on my account”
I thanked him and made promises to return back to the youth centre. With that said, he took his leave. My mother must have set her cooking timer at the exact time my convo with Pastor ended.
“I think you might have been too harsh with the young man” my mother begins.
“Harsh! How? I didn’t even said anything” I choired
“That’s the problem. Your silence.” She reasonably said “A woman’s silence carries a heavy message, maybe greater than her curses”
“Mum” I acidly called her, with a cautious eye. She can be too wise for her age most times, a trait I inerited from her.
“But it is the truth. If God has shown that man, you’re to be his wife” She snarled “…your staying silent about it today has killed his ego more than you can imagine”
“God hasn’t spoken to me about it”
“Has he not” She looks at me reflectively
“You have allowed your thought and indignation block God’s message” She noted “You’re not willing to put your heart and ears to listen to Him, as long as the subject matter involves you marrying the Pastor”
With those sage words of my overbearing mother, I went to bed with another Valentine gone, and Pastor Korede’s affection gone.
As promised, I began attending the youth program and made myself available for whatever the kids needed. I was happy to be at my place of service. I might not have been a full member of Pastor Korede’s church, but I was glad to be serving God there.
I saw him most of the time. We talked and laughed and ate together. It was clear he was completely over me. I felt bad, because, lowkey I enjoyed the chase, as most ladies do. I began to see him beyond his appointment.
His face began to grow more appealing to me, everything he did in fact. I started to imagine my life with me. I was most surprised about the whole experience. I enjoyed his company more, not that he was always available. But in the few hours of the day, he had to spend either alone or with the youth team in meetings, I was amused by his whole being.
It didn’t take up to 3 months and I was sure I had grown interested in the Pastor.
“What do I do now, ma” I pestered my mother. She was wise. She had just the words to guide me on my next course of action, cause my feelings were going to burst open at any moment.
“Did you hear from God?” she asked. Not what I was expected, but surely what was to be expected.
“I’m not sure, but…”
“Until then, you have no business telling him how you feel” My mum stiffed.
It was then I muster the courage to gain clarity on what God was saying about marriage. It wasn’t the first time I was praying about marriage; only this time I was willing and eager to hear what God had to say about the subject matter.
I attended another friend’s wedding, luckily, I wasn’t the maid of honour or anything of the sought. It made me pester God more because I wasn’t getting any younger and if Pastor Korede was truly the one for me, he should let me know.
Months upon months and still no response.
At the time, Pastor Korede had begun getting friendly, if not too friendly with another young lady. She seemed age-appropriate for him, beautiful and very God-fearing. She was one to like by just seeing.
I didn’t like her, because she was around him.
Was God going to shame me or was this a punishment for how unfairly I treated Pastor Korede? I couldn’t take it anymore, so I went to Pastor Korede and confided my feelings.
“You must hear from him too.” He said “I don’t want you to engage on your feelings alone, listen and report”
This was starting to feel like an assignment. So much for romance.
“And Olukorede do you take her as your lawfully wedded wife to love and cherish in sickness and in heath, as long as you both shall live” the Pastor started the vows.
“Yes, I do” Olukorede responded. I could see the glint in his eyes from where I was standing. He was in love, there was no doubt.
I had tears trickling down the side of my make-up face. He was getting married. What I feared the most was happening right in front of me. I wasn’t sure how I was handling it, but I knew I had to be mature about it because I wasn’t a kid anymore.
“Do your Adenike, take him as your lawfully wedded husband to love and to cherish in sickness and in heath, as long as you both shall live” the Pastor reiterates.
“Yes, I do” I responded. This time finally letting the water find its way down my cheeks. Thank God for my maid of honour who happily took the job of cleaning it before I ruined my mascara any further.
“Yes God spoke”
How “It was in a night dream and a loud clear voice”
Am I happy? “I cried on my wedding day…that justifies a lot”
I became a queen, first of her name, Pastor Adenike Olukorede.
THE END
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