My Neighbor's House-help

If at 24, I have not for once wooed a girl—not as if my legs were hurting so badly I could not give a good chase, or for any other reason but for lack of confidence, then I might end up being married off, like my younger sister once said.

The Omiyale family was renowned for water Business at Kareem Laka area of Egbeda community in Lagos state. While on one of my Campus holidays, I remember sitting close to the tap every second evening to make some profit for my family. So alert, no one, not even a ghost could have made away with just a bowl of water. Not like, I had always enjoyed manning the tap. In fact, it came next to cleaning the toilet. Father forced me to do it, never knew it would turn out to be a blessing in disguise, a daily routine so desirous I stopped taking turn with my younger sister; Emmanuella.
I wouldn’t skip ‘When you are mine’ for anything in the world,  but when it came to monitoring the tap in the evening, I would rather have the soap opera told to me, than miss watching our neighbor’s house-help come and go as she fetched. The first time I saw her, she was like a vision of heavenly beauty, simple and natural. I would have sketched her out for you, but I am such a bad hand you would find it difficult to differentiate my drawing from the scratchy imprint of birds over sand. Let me try putting her appearance into words, even though I doubt it would do her justice.
She was fair skinned, four-foot-one with a well-chiseled frame that merged downward into a V-shape. Her oval face had a mole on the right side of her upper lips, complimented by coiffures that lined her head, forming pathways.
Whenever she was around, it was easy for customers to make away with water, because at that moment, she owned my attention. At a time, she returned the change I gave her, never knew I had given her three times more.

Who will save me from myself? I really wanted to talk to her, tell her I have feelings for her, and let her know she has filled my mind as well as my head. How do I say it? How do I start?

Against my shy self, I had dared to say my mind. Those few times, I did not get half way to her before I ran back. What if she says “No!”? What if she makes jest of me?
One particular evening, I decided to try again. It  was a perfect timing, she was the only one at the tap, the world seemed to have stopped around us. With heart hammering like kettledrums, hands sweating, legs moving as if they had restrains, I approached. “Hi, my name is innocent Omiyale. You mind telling me yours?” she just looked on and did not respond. Then it occurred to me I had nervously made the statement within. I took the words again. This time, I made bold to speak out. Suddenly, I became a Stammerer “he-he-hi, mi-mi-my…,”

“ooh!” she broke in, “ good evening, I have two more pails after this. Please, help lift to my head”. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I assisted and that was the end to the attempt.  Like other nights, I went to bed conquered, told myself ‘tomorrow is another day'.

The following evening, I took the usual spot close to the taps, minding customers. Every now and then, I checked the time that limped heavily away, waiting for my crush, bent on telling her my mind, come what may.

Emmet Fox said, "Do it trembling if you must, but do it!"

What is the worst thing that could happen? Drop dead after the task, end up being mocked, slapped or drenched by her. Better all those, than the bottled-up feelings nibbling on my inside.

Until evening turned into thick darkness, I was still telling myself she would come and fetch. Disappointed, I closed for the day.

The next two evenings were the same. I grew concerned. What had happened to her? I hoped she was fine.

The third evening, I waited as usual, and was about giving up, when my charming beauty suddenly showed up. You needed to have felt my chest for my heart as it flipped over again with a mix of gladness and nervousness.
She had 4pails to fetch, so I decided to wait until she was through. Each turn, I offered to help her lift to her head without her asking, rehearsing my lines all along. She completed her fetch and returned for her change.

Haha, the time has come to heave the burden off my chest. After all, girls don’t bite.

I gave her the change and was about talking when she spoke up.
“Thanks for the other time. You are such a caring, gentle man.”
Then she moved closer and placed a peck on my cheek. Hooo-haaa! That moment, all my lines evaporated. Her soft, puckered lips were like lighting the Olympics’ touch, as it set my whole being ablaze. We stood face-to-face, mesmerized by each other. Slowly, steadily, the gap between us closed. We were at the threshold of locking lips, when I had a familiar voice.
“Innocent, get my car washed, I am stepping out in the next 1hour.” Damn it! I hate it when Father spoils my show.
I was going to do his bidding when it dawned on me that such closeness with a girl could only have been in my dreams.

Who says girls who make the first move are ‘cheap'? Taarh! Rather, I see them as ‘goal-getters', a case of ‘if the mountain will not come to Mohammed, Mohammed must go to the mountain'. But for girls like that, men like me would remain a ‘glorified bachelor'. We need girls who would shove the key into ignition, kick-start and handover the wheels. Else, there would be no move.

I needed to find out what happened to my crush so I could be at rest. I could not go asking around, that may arouse curiosity, so I came up with an idea. Later that day, I went over to her house and acted as though I had brought her the change she was yet to collect. Then I was told she fell ill and had returned to where she came from. That struck me hard. I went back to my normal self, loathing the water business. For the next couple of days, I was lovesick, lost my appetite. I could not wait for the holidays to be over; I needed some activities to get my mind off her.

While back on campus, I thought about her on occasion, but not as much as while at home. Campus is a large pool of girls with many different specifications. With the right string of words, you will hook the one that catches your fancy. Easier said than done. I preferred to remain in a corner of my room, face-glued to my notes than go out there for a hunt. Even at that, can you imagine, one came into my one room apartment, she walked in like a prey through a trapdoor, gbam! The lock jammed and we were both alone.

Angelina was Emmanuella's (my younger sister’s) friend. I took both of them tutorials on certain days. It was not one of those days and for the first time; she came alone. That was strange.

“What about Emmanuella?”

“She has gone for an hour special elective,” she cooed.

If Angelina had gone for lectures dressed that elegantly, she must have caused countless stares and slain many men. She was angelic in a red, glittering knee-length gown, with a heel that shot her few inches high.

I offered her chilled soft drink and returned to my study. I could deceive others but not myself; I assimilated nothing since she walked in. I watched and admired her from the corner of my eye.
I liked Angelina. Now that opportunity presented itself to tell her how I feel about her, I was lost for words. A friend once said, you woo a woman with introductory conversation.

“Hi, been around in a while, never come across this charming beauty. My name is Innocent Omiyale, and you are?”

“Most ladies fall for appreciation,” he said, “then you keep up the flow with more questions you first must have answered about yourself”. “I am a 300level accounting student, what about you?”

I doubted if that would work with Angelina. I knew her almost like I knew Emmanuella, they were childhood friends. Nevertheless, there must still be something to say to open conversation; there must be a way to lay bare my mind. I was in thought when she stood and cat-walked to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. Jeez! Never knew she was that much of a beauty. With the way she carried herself, turned and twisted with a swirl of her hair, a model could not have done better. Just then, an idea popped in my head.

Yesss! I will ask her out on a date. While on it, propose an intimate relationship, yippee!

Thought this should not be tough with someone familiar. Then, I realized it was easier with a stranger. I was perspiring all over, looking for the ideal words, when my sister came in. Damn it! Bad timing. Indeed, even if I had gotten half an hour more, I would still be racking my brain for ideal words.
Two’s company, three’s a crowd. I postponed my intentions till another time opportunity presents itself.

Confidence and not ideal words or right atmosphere is all that is needed to seize a rare opportunity.

Angelina barely spoke with Emmanuella when she stood, picked her purse and hurried out of the room. Emmanuella went after her. I was wondering what was going on with the two, when Emmanuella returned alone.
“You are simply ‘impossible’,” she said, shaking her head.
“What do you mean?”
“You had privacy; the poor girl took alluring steps across the room; obviously sending a message, still you could not read and make the move. I fear Daddy will have to marry you off to be rid of you.”
“That’s not funny,” I said as she walked off to her room.
So, my naughty sister had set me up with her friend; her words got me thinking. If at 24, I have not asked a girl out, not for any reason except lack of confidence, then I might end up being married off as she said.

At the end of the semester, I went over to my granny’s place for the holiday. She lived alone in Ibafo; a remote settlement in Ogun state, where she tended vegetable garden and poultry birds to keep her through old age.
She was fond of me and never spared showing I was her favorite grandchild. It had been over 2years since I last visited.
“Wow, my son is fast becoming a man,” she said and welcomed me with a hug.
I had barely settled in when she began asking questions, longing to be filled on major happenings in my life.
“How is everyone at home?”
“They are fine mama. They sent their greetings.”
“What about your studies?”
“It is going on well ma, just a year more to go.”
“That is very good. What of your relationship, who is the lucky girl?”
That moment, there was a break in the flow. Knowing granny for who she was, one must just have a response, and it better be satisfactory. Tell her ‘No girl' and I bet she would ask why. Tell her ‘there is a girl' and she would want details. I knew I was in for it.
“When are you bringing her over?” she prodded further.
Not having something worthwhile to say, I told her about my neighbor's house-help.
“Are you saying you got nothing about her?”
I shook my head in response
“Not even her name?”
I shook my head again.
“I wonder where you got the trait- timidity from, definitely not from your grandfather, nor your father. It must be from your mother’s side. In the days of your grandfather; hmmn! Akanni mi (my Akanni),” she paused in reminiscence, “God bless his soul, technology has not made life this easy. My Darling husband lived 2 villages away. Almost daily, he trekked over or used his father’s bicycle, just to woo me. He was a son of a palm wine tapper, from a poor background. That alone, was total put-off. I also came from a humble home, where we lived on produce from my father’s small piece of land. Being the firstborn of 8children, I had responsibilities over my siblings and so could not afford to settle for a man struggling to make ends meet. Considering the number of times I rejected him, I wonder why he still pressed on. Rejection is common to man. That we submitted an application or a proposal and are rejected does not mean we would not rewrite and submit again. He who fears to be rejected, would not amount to much in life. There is no harm in trying again. That was what your grandfather did. Talking about criteria, women do have list of the kind of man they want. I also had mine, but how many of us end up with our dream man? I wanted a fair man, of my height or a little taller. However, I fell in love with a man who was thickly dark in complexion; except for his teeth and eyeballs, a man whose height dwarfed me. It's a pity your grandfather had passed on before you were born. The photo album can attest to my claim.” She went for her album and showed me different pictures of my grandfather.
“All a woman wants is to be convinced and assured of a man's love. In most cases, her list ends up being blown away. Many times, your grandfather showed up by the stream, waited until me and my friends were through with washing and escorted us some distance. There were times he followed me around as I hawked yam tubers. Those were our own display of love back then, which is what it means to chase a woman. My friends became favorably disposed to him; they advocated that I give him a chance. Still, I rejected him.
My husband was a man of few spoken words and many written words. He bombarded me with countless love letters that I ended up losing my head to him. Letters are still relevant today, so far it conveys your mind. I also want you to know that no matter how packaged, sophisticated and high-up-there a woman can be, she still long to be chased. A man’s Confidence and persistence will get her to get off her high horse. Even if you were utterly rejected, you would be flooded with relieve you made your mind known. Better to be rejected than do nothing. “
“Thanks for the nuggets of wisdom granny.”
“You are welcome.”
I went to bed after taking a shower and having my meal. I could not help thinking of all  granny had said. I awoke the following morning and the thought was still with me. I could hear the clucking sounds of poultry birds and knew granny was at the backyard.
I went over to greet her and was shocked to see my neighbor's house-help, feeding the chickens.
“Innocent!” granny called, stood from where she bent weeding and came over.
“How was your night?”
“It was refreshing ma.”
“Meet my housekeeper, Adesewa” she introduced us and we had a quick greeting. That moment, I saw the mole on her upper lips. I knew my eyes could not be deceiving me. I took granny aside and we exchange words in whispers.
“That's the girl I told you about.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
‘Well, it’s possible. I employed her a month ago. All I can tell you is, she is from a good home. The rest is left to you to find out.”
Not too long after, Adesewa was through with her chores.
“Till tomorrow ma,” she greeted and took her leave.
“Alright dear. Greet your mother,” granny said and winked at me.  I did not need the signal spelt out in words. I went after Adesewa.
She had not gone far when I caught up with her. I swallowed hard as I tried to force out words. I just must talk to her; which I preferred to returning home for granny's wordy whip; should I give up another chance.
“Hi Adesewa.”
“Hi.”
“Remember me?”
“Yes, Mama's grandson.”
“Not that. We have met before, at the Omiyale commercial borehole at Egbeda.”
“I am sorry I can’t remember meeting you,” she said, after staring blank in the air for a while.
Just 3months ago, how could she have forgotten? Maybe she is just pretending.
“I was the one who sold water by the tap,” I said, hoping that would trigger her memory.
“Oooh, I remember”.
“Good.”
Now to the tough part. I had come that far and was not going to back out. With jaws almost clattering, the words tumbled out.
“Back then, I was not able to express my feelings for you. Not everyone gets another chance like me. Adesewa, I really like you.”
Gbam! That was the icebreaker. It felt like breeze of confidence blew in my direction, sweet words flowed like cascade, I almost could not believe they poured through me. Surprisingly, Adesewa became receptive as though she had long expected this. I walked her down the road and we were acquainted with each other. She was a 200level undergraduate of Federal University of Agriculture, Abeokuta (FUNAAB). Being the only child of a single parent, she took leave of absence, worked as house help, to take care of her ailing mother. She said she was not in the right frame of mind for an intimate relationship. So sad. However, I felt a huge rush of internal satisfaction welled up within me and surged through my whole being. I had expressed my heart and that felt fantastic! I had stretched beyond fear. Yeah! I did it!

Life at times may require us to let go of the ones we love, only to bring them back our way better and matured.

I got an appointment to audit the account of an agricultural firm. Only to realize the staff I would work directly with was Adesewa; my neighbor’s house-help. She was as charming as I knew her, looked elegant in the sky-blue skirt suit, with a flower print muffler she wore. It was a lovely reunion. I took her out for lunch and we picked up where we left off four years back. Few days after, I proposed relationship. Guess her response…, you are right, if your guess was in my favor.
                   

                                  THE END.
                                
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