Rekindled love

The Gambia

PROM NIGHT 2002

Cocoa Ocean beach in Senegambia

FATIMA

Here I am, walking on the beach at night with the love of my life on his prom night. A comfortable silence surrounds us. Holding hands, we both stopped walking when we realized we were far away from the party. The beach at night is spectacular. I looked up at the sky and saw the full moon and stars shining bright. "Mesmerizing view," I whispered out loud to no one.

"Yes, it is," Mahmoud said back. I turned my gaze lovingly on my boyfriend and smiled at him, knowing he meant me and not the moon and the stars about us. He kisses my forehead before looking out into the ocean and asks.

"When you look out into the ocean, what do you see?" He whispered to me from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I see the ocean. From a distance, it looks like the ocean connects with the sky like a dead-end road." I answer.

"Well, I see an endless road with millions of possibilities in life that people are afraid to explore sometimes." He answers and plants a kiss on the top of my head. Huh? I thought to myself and turned my body around in his arms to face him. I lift my head to his, and our foreheads touched.

His arms wrapped around me like a security blanket. In his arms is my haven.

"I love you," he whispered, and my heart swelled with contentment and love. Even after three years of dating, hearing those three little yet powerful words fills my heart with overwhelming joy.

"I love you to the moon and back, Ace" he smiles and me before taking a step back, making me whimper at the loss of his touch. He took two steps back and dropped on one knee, pulling out a box. I gasp, my hand flying over my mouth. I did not see this coming. Our families and friends made their way to us, smiling at us. Phones out and cameras flashing. Tears were rolling down our mother's faces and mine.

"Baby, I've loved you from the very day you ran into me and the horrifying look on your face when you realized that what just happened. Your maturity surfaced at a very young age with made me fall deeply in love with you. Your loving nature towards the people you care about makes my heart swell with love. Your fierce attitude suits you and, in turn, makes me want to devour you. I'd wait for eternity for you. You are my forever and a day, my past, present, and future. Tradition has it here that if a man wants to marry a woman, which you are, he has to take his parents, kola nut, and some money to her parents to ask for her hand in marriage, and I also know you value that. Your parents said that the choice is up to you. My darling Tima, will you make me the happiest man by becoming my wife?"

I dropped to my knees, shaking with excitement. At 15 yrs old, I'm engaged to the love of my life. To some people, that would be concerning, but how many people older can say that they found the love of their lives, only a few. When love comes knocking on your door, open the door wide and embrace it, hold on, and never let go.

"Baby, don't leave me hanging. My leg is kinda going to sleep here." I giggled.

"Put the man out of misery!"

"You know they say misery loves company!"

"Shut up!" Mahmoud yells back at his friends. I put both hands on either side of his face, holding it in place.

"I'd be honored to become your wife," I whispered before bringing his lips to mine, Kissing him, pouring all my love for him into the kiss. He matches my kisses for a few seconds, before pulling away and sliding the ring onto my ring finger.

I took a few moments to admire my engagement ring. I have three years to plan my wedding. I got time to get to know him as my fiance. Excitement and love surround us with our family. I couldn't be happier at this moment. Our families and friends blend in, hugging, laughing, smiling, and crying tears of joy.

Dad walked up to me and pulled me into a hug; when he pulled back, I could've sworn I saw tears in his eyes. "No father wants to let the daughter go off in the world or into another man's life, but I have you for the next three years; maybe I can even change your mind about getting married so soon."

We shared a laugh and returned to our family to celebrate the good news. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed Malick and his dad in a heated argument, and they both looked royally pissed. I took a step in that direction, and Mr. Mahmoud tilted his head in my direction and gave me a sharp look that made me stop in my track. His stare was cold and calculating, and it sends a shiver down my back, not in a good way.

Malick also tilts towards me, and his demeanor changes, and he jogs over to me with a smile. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we were just talking about work." I wasn't convinced, nor was his tone convincing. I took one look behind me and was met with another one of Mr. Mahmoud's cold stares, sending another cold shiver down my spine.

The night went by quickly, and all our loved ones left; we stayed out until sunrise before going home. I spent the next two weeks focusing on school and studying, texting my fiance, and spending time with my family. I've been texting him the night before to no avail. I asked his friends, and they seemed standoff-ish, telling me that he has just been busy with work. I wasn't buying it. I tried calling him, but my call was rejected. I called again and again to no avail. Suddenly my phone chimed, alerting me of a text.

Mine: STOP CALLING ME!! YOU ARE STARTING TO BECOME VERY DESPERATE AND CLINGY! I'm BUSY...

What the fuck? I was lost for words; without realizing it, tears sprung from my eyes as I raked through my mind wondering what I could have done to piss him off. Try as I might, I couldn't stop the tearing from falling from my eyes. I laid in bed and cried myself to sleep.

I woke up with puffy eyes, angry at myself for crying over a text, over a man. What the hell was wrong with me? I made plans, and I'm going to stick to it, then later I deal with the asshole. Today was Malick's birthday, and I want to surprise him with a picnic birthday bash. I invited his friends and mine, but I wanted to spend some alone time with him before that. My friends and I shared tasks for the birthday bash; I couldn't be more grateful for my friends.

I had our driver take me to his house. Upon arrival, one of his nosy neighbors' approached us coming from the market with a basket of ingredients on her head. "Tima! Wait!" she yells, and she attempts to jog our way but stops after five steps then walks the rest of the way. Growing up, I was raised to respect my elders. Our driver, Musa, approached her first, grabbed the basket from her, and I shook her hand, bending slightly.

"Hi, Tima. I've meant to come to your house. Mr. Mahmoud left something here for my husband and me to give to your parents. Let me change real quick and get my husband." Puzzled by what she said, I shot a confusing look at Musa only to find him mirroring my exact expression back at me. I shrugged and proceeded to follow her to her place.

An hour later and they still weren't ready, so I went over to Malick's place to see what the hell was going on. I walked into the compound and made my way to the front door. I hadn't realized that Musa has been following me. I pound my fist on the door, and it opens.

I stepped in, calling out into the darkness, "HELLO!" my voice echoed throughout the house. Musa flipped the nearness switch, and I gasped at the sight before me. Not even a single piece of furniture in sight, hell not even a crumpled piece of paper.

"What the hell is going on?" Musa asked from behind me. I couldn't find the right words. I managed a shrug before I made a beeline to Malick's room and I'm met with an empty room. I bit my lower lip furiously in an attempt to tears that threatened to assault my eyes at bay.

My mind has registered what was going on, but my heart refuses to believe it. The internal battle between my brain and my heart is overwhelming that tears started falling from my eyes uncontrollably. I held it at bay, but standing here in a room I had so many fond memories of breaks heart. I sobbed into my hands and dropped to my knees and sobbed until I couldn't breathe. After what seemed like forever I stopped and wiped my tears away.

I made my way into the restroom to wash my tears away. Yet again like the night before I let myself cry over a man. I made my way down to the living room and Musa gave me a concerned look. I shook my head indicating that I'm not ready to talk about it.

The drive back home was taking eternity. The neighbors gave nothing away, their poker face game is on point and I hate that. I hate the unknown. The fear of the unknown is terrifying.

"Mr. Jawara, I am deeply sorry to be the one to deliver this bad news to you. My brother-in-law did not mean to cause you and your family any harm whatsoever. Like you he is a family man, he is a family man."

"SHUT UP!" Dad bellowed. "That man sat right where you're sitting, looked me dead in the eye and lied to me. Lied to my family, and he didn't even have the decency to come here himself! He caused my daughter pain!" The neighbor's wife spoke up.

"Malick, wanted me to give you this letter." She handed me a letter. Standing in the middle of the living room, I held a tear stained letter. For the first since the battle between my brain and my heart, my heart lost and succumbed to the most excruciating pain. I unfold the letter. I glide my fingers on the paper recognizing his handwriting. I took a deep breath and started reading.

"Tima. my love, my heart,

I'm sorry..."