Love Brewed

I was used to being hidden. It started with my first-ever boyfriend in secondary school. He loved me

outwardly and it reflected in the way he treated me. They say young love is the purest form of love

and because of him, I believe that. I was older than him, I was eighteen years old while he was

fifteen years old. One day he helped pushed me up the stairs in my wheelchair and we became

friends. Before the term ended, he proposed to me and I accepted. I felt lucky. I felt I could also

contribute my quota when my friends were sharing their love experiences at the dormitory.

We dated happily for two terms until he started getting grumpy around me. He started shunning my

company and refused to talk to me around campus. When I probed he told me, “My friends are

making life uncomfortable for me because of you. They tease me. They even think you’ve bewitched

me. I can’t stand it any longer. We can be friends but not lovers.”

As if these struggles aren’t enough, love also brings its own problems. Able-bodied men see you and

all they see is disability. They see all the things we can’t do and focus on that forgetting that there

are certain things we can also do very well.

At the University, there was this guy I liked so much, Josh. He was closer to me so I decided to shoot

my shot. He looked at me and asked, “Can you have sex?” I nodded. He said, “I can’t look at you and

have sex with you. My heart can’t stand it. It will feel so wrong.” I asked why and he answered, “How

do I even start?”

He visited me one day and I lured him in. I told him, “If you can’t watch me, just close your eyes, I

will do everything. He didn’t close his eyes. He watched me as I took charge from the start to the

end. He was shocked about what I could do. I asked him, “What’s the difference between this and

what you’ve already had from able women? I may be disable in certain things but not in all things.”

We started dating. He told me we should keep it a secret and I didn’t have a problem with it. To be

honest with you, I started believing that it was the best thing for me to be kept a secret because that

way, my man won’t be teased and pressured to leave me. I’d lost a lot of men because they were

teased away.

For close to two years, I dated Josh secretly. When the two of us were together, it felt like the world

was the wrong place for us. We needed a world of our own. We would laugh, have multiple rounds

of sex, I’ll cook for us and he’ll later push me around in the night for us to experience the nightlife

together. People started getting the hint that something might be happening between us but we

always denied it.

Other guys started making advances towards me. They all wanted a secret affair. I had Josh. That

was OK for me. One day, out of love, I told Josh what was happening. The men who had been trying to get me. I thought I was being frank with him but he took it differently. He thought it was my way

of asking for more from him.

He grew jealous anytime he saw me laughing with other guys. He knew Eric, one of my coursemates

who was helping me academically. He warned me not to talk to Eric again because of jealousy. We

started fighting often. One day we had a fight and he said, “God knew what he was doing when he

placed you in a wheelchair. He knew you’ll be a slut if he gave you legs.”

After that fight, we couldn’t come back together again. At some point, he came around giving me a

lousy apology but I was broken beyond repairs. That was one thing about me. Everything about me

was brittle because of my situation–brittle confidence, brittle courage, a brittle heart and a brittle

soul. I bruised easily. What he told me hit the deepest core of my being. I didn’t see any way forward

for us again.

We moved on and later completed school. After that, I struggled with love. I needed someone to

love but the men who came into my life felt they needed to nurse me than love me. We would date

for a month or two and they’ll find a flimsy reason to leave me. Deep down, they left because of my

disability but none of them would accept it was because of that. They were ashamed of their own

reasons.

I met a guy on Facebook who didn’t know I am disable. When I realized our conversations were

getting deeper, I told him I was in a wheelchair and he didn’t believe me. He thought I was making it

up just to get rid of him. I asked, “So you’ll leave me if it was true that I’m in a wheelchair?” He gave

a feeble no as an answer. I sent him photos of me in my wheelchair. I even sent him childhood

photos of where it all started. His first word was “Wow.”

“Wow, what?” I asked.

Your face doesn’t look like someone in a wheelchair,” he answered

“Wow, what?” I asked.

Your face doesn’t look like someone in a wheelchair,” he answered.

I knew we had no future but I gave him a chance when he said he loved me regardless. We met in

town one day and I could sense he was forcing himself to be affectionate. His words were colourful

but his facial expressions and demeanour didn’t support his words. When we parted, I didn’t call him

again and he, as I expected, also didn’t call again.

I told myself, “This is it. This is where I give up on love and everything associated with it. I will rather

find completion in myself than look for a man to make me complete.”

Within a year, I fought my parents for liberation. They didn’t want me to leave home. I had a good

job. I could take care of myself but they were bent on taking care of me. I rented a place of my own

and packed out of the house against their say-so. I didn’t want to be taken care of. One day, they will

die and I’ll face the world all alone and it would be hard for me. I better do it while they are alive

than wait.

Living alone also gave me this sense of independence that I craved. I saved money and bought

myself an electric scooter. The photos I posted on Facebook changed. I no longer posted half a

photo. I posted all of me in my beautiful electric scooter.

I was out to face the world in full because I’m also the child of the universe. I deserve to be here just

like anyone else. One day after church, I posted a photo of me in my scooter and guess who came to

comment? Josh. Do you remember that guy? The guy who called me a slut while in school, you

remember? He said, “Cool car. Can you give me a ride?” I went through his profile and I laughed

knowing it was him. We talked from there. He asked, “Are we still fighting?” I answered, “I don’t

even know you. How can I fight you?”

It had been over six years since we broke up. He looked like a mature man and spoke with regrets of

our past. I kept telling him I held no grudges but he wouldn’t believe me. He said, “If it’s true that

you’re not holding grudges, invite me to your place and I’ll come and see you.” I told him, “You don’t

need an invite. If you want to visit, I’ll give you directions.”

So one Friday evening he came around. We were both grown-ups but it didn’t feel like we outgrew

our past. We laughed like we had never fought. I didn’t know I was missing him until I saw him do

the things he used to do while we were in school. Before the night fell, we found ourselves in each

other’s embrace. Old flames and the way they can embarrass you. While I was dressing up, I looked

at my scooter that was there all along and it felt like it was talking to me. It said, “Why won’t he call

you a slut. See what you just did with him.”

When Josh finished dressing up, he asked me, “It means we are back together, right?” I answered,

“It means nothing. Leave me alone.” He said, “I knew it. You’re still holding grudges.” I looked

downward, too embarrassed to look at his face. He called my name thrice and begged me to look at

him. I did. He told me, “I’m no longer a child. There’s no reason to hide again. If you say yes, that’s

it.”

So I said yes.

Five years down the line, here we are now as a married couple with one child.

I remember when I was heavily pregnant and sitting in a wheelchair, he would be looking at me from

the corner he was sitting. I would catch his eyes looking at me but he won’t turn his eyes away. I

asked what and he said, “I’ve never seen a pregnant woman in a wheelchair before so allow me to

look at you.