The triumph of the water lily
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| The moment we emerged, someone came up from the main entrance to
drive the car to the parking lot down at the basement. There were several people inside the restaurant itself. The main eating area we entered had an interior decor very akin to what you might describe as an eighteen century European Ball Room. It was slightly reminiscent of the private home of French nobility and had an odd combination of both the modern and the old, in terms of its general setting and overall style. It lacked the sophistication of the more popular Nigerian hotels, such as 'The Federal Palace Hotel', 'The Eko Holiday Inn' or 'The Ikoyi Hotel'. The pace here was slow and easy and I immediately understood why Norman described it as both 'Sedate' and 'Exclusive'. There was very little chance of being spotted by someone you knew or didn't want to meet unexpectedly Lovely crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the French windows, on either sides of the room, were thrown open to reveal a garden, with a wide expanse of beautiful, green lawn, with royal palms dotted here and there, Searchlights shone from both the lawn and the dwarfed palms. A band played soft calypso music in the background somewhere and the total effect was simply out of this world. I felt as if in the space of just a few minutes, I had been transported to another place in another time. I collected myself as a man strolled towards us, beaming. I guessed he was the owner of the place, whom Norman had earlier talked about. "Oh how do you do Madame?" He said to me in good American English. I was slightly taken aback, I had expected him to sound as Italian as he looked. "I'm very well thank you," I responded, as I proffered my hand to shake his. "It's such a pleasure to see a new face visit our restaurant, and a most pleasant one too if I may add. Where have you been hiding such a remarkably elegant woman, you rascal?" He said to Norman, as he playfully thumped him on the shoulder, before leading us to our table. "How is business Georgio?" Norman asked casually, as he settled in his chair. "Well, comme ci comme 9a; so, so," the man translated in English. 63 "The holiday season is coming to an end, and most of my customers are going back home. The few who are remaining are too busy at the oil rigs or construction sites to enjoy themselves." "I don't believe you," Norman answered evenly. "You are still packing our money home in baskets", he insisted. Georgio laughed in response, and said: "The truth is that I'm working dammed too hard, I am no longer a young man my dear friend; my health is beginning to fail," he complained. "Please have a very pleasant evening madame," he said to me. "The wine," he continued as he indicated to the bottle in an ice bucket in front of us, "Is on the house." "Thank you," I greeted with a smile, and with that, he left. Apparently, the waiters had been standing by and as if on cue, one of
"It's good to know you've got implicit faith in my judgement," he remarked, with a slow smile, as he picked up one of the booklets and conferred with the waiter. Soon after, someone emerged with hot white towels in a fanciful copper bucket and we wiped our hands with these. I wasn't used to such stylish pre-dinner rituals, but I did exactly as Norman did. I used the towels and set them aside. As we waited for our meal to arrive, Norman picked up my right hand, which was the one nearest to him and began to study it, with interest. "You know hands tell so much about people," he remarked. "And what are mine supposed to be telling you?" "I'll tell you later, but the idea isn't original to me. Helen Keller said so.", "Really?" I answered with interest. "Yes, she said she could tell a person's temperament or character just
I made the sign of the cross and said a prayer out loud and then began to eat. Norman smiled as he sat watching. 64 "I like that," he remarked. "What?' I asked, looking straight at him. "The fact that a lovely girl like you still says her prayers before meals.
"And why should I allow myself to be spoilt?" I asked casually and bit into a roll I had just buttered. "Let me see your hand a second time," he said. "In the light of this new discovery I'm sure my analysis of your character based on that part of your anatomy would most certainly need to be modified." "My hands are busy helping me with my eating Norman," I answered, without looking up from my plate, and will you please stop flirting with me?" Norman simply threw back his head in laughter and revealed a set of attractive white teeth as he did so. "Tell me something Effua; has any other man ever told you that he'd enjoy to really ruffle your calm exterior." "I would like to hear more about Helen Keller!" I said. "We'll come to that in a minute, but answer my question first," he
"How much are you paying for all this?" I asked. The question popped out of me before I could think, and Norman went: "Tu! Tu! Tu! Effua! You're not supposed to ask such questions," he said, shaking his head at me and very much amused. He reached for my plate and started serving some food on it. It turned out to be a delightful meal and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I didn't know I could consume so much food in one night. The wine was good and went well with the food. I gasped when I looked at my watch. It was almost eleven, I hadn't realised just how quickly the evening had flown. After the meal, Norman ordered some desert; a fruit salad for himself and an egg caramel for me. The caramel was an angel's delight; it was light and simply melted in the mouth. I felt pleasantly satiated with food without any discomfort. It had been a charming dinner in a lovely 65 environment. "Would you like to see a film Effua?" Norman asked as he set down his napkin after using it. "No thank you, I ought to call it a day," I added, as I tried to take my hand out of his warm and easy clasp. He had started the business of examining my hand again, and since it made me feel so vulnerable, I tried to prise it out of his gentle hold. I had no intention of losing my calm as Norman himself had put it. He saw what I was trying to do and smiled. He planted a soft kiss in the middle of my palm, and then released it. He signalled to the waiter to bring the bill. The man came rushing down with it and Norman wrote out a cheque for it. He also left the fellow a generous tip. The man thanked Norman effusively and explained that his car had been ordered to be brought up front. Norman helped me out of my chair and wrapped my shawl around me. He did it naturally without making me feel smothered. In fact, I was beginning to enjoy the novelty of being cared for like that. The drive back was smooth and enjoyable. The warm night breeze blew in from the Marina as we drove along. "Tired?" He asked, glancing in my direction. "No, not really; just relaxed," I answered softly. We arrived at the guest house much too soon. "Thanks for a very pleasant evening Norman," I said with a soft smile
"The pleasure was mine Effua," he responded softly and smiled, as he sat there watching me. "We should actually do this more often," he added, and without waiting for an answer, he leaned over and very carefully kissed me on the lips, without making contact with the rest of my body. The action was sensual in a strange way and sent a ripple of excitement through my body "Good night," I repeated again, as I prepared to leave the car. Goodnight, Effua and sweet dreams," he said with a smile and
"Drive carefully," I cautioned as he prepared to drive off. I stood there watching, as he drove into the night. 66 Five Nkem's Heartache "Effua can I see you this afternoon?" Nkem asked me on the phone one Friday morning as I prepared to leave for work. "There is something very important I would like to talk to you about" she said. "Yes certainly," there was a slight note of dejection in her voice but I wasn't certain. "Are you alright?" I asked. "Yes I am fine," she answered, sounding like her usual self again. "Okay then I'll come down as soon as work is over," I assured her as I reached for my attache case and car keys. It was almost eight o'clock that morning and I had to be at the broadcasting house in forty-five minutes for my first lecture. I bade her a quick good-bye and set off for work. As I drove along to Nkem's house that evening, I wondered what it was she wanted to talk to me about. Nkem was generally a self-contained person who held her own counsel and very rarely made demands on people. "Anyway, she sounded her usual self," I said to myself as I drove along. Nkem's car was parked outside the garage when I arrived at the house. The gate man promptly let me in and Dorcas, who had peeped from an upstairs window to see who had arrived, came running down to welcome me. I parked my vehicle behind Nkem's and banged the door shut as Dorcas came up to me. She assisted me with my coat and handbag. "Good evening Aunty" she greeted cheerfully. "And how are you Dorcas?" I asked with fond affection and placed an arm around her shoulder, as we walked into the house. "I am fine, thank you," she responded respectfully. "And your Aunty; how is she?" "She is fine too and she asked me to tell you to come up to her room as soon as you arrive," the girl explained. "Alright," I said and followed her upstairs. Nkem was just emerging from the bathroom, as we walked into the room and was mopping her face with a face flannel. 67 "Effua, Hello, how now?" she greeted me quietly in pidgin English. "Fine!" I answered, with a huge sigh, as I sank into a comfortable chair and took off my shoes. "The traffic problem in this town keeps getting worse each day. How do you cope?" I complained. "You get used to it," Nkem replied with a soft smile. "Let me ask Dorcas to get you some food." "Nope!." I answered immediately "All I need is a cold drink." "You're sure?" she asked as she pressed a bell by her bedside. "I am positive," I answered. "I'm dying of thirst." Onyeisi came in almost immediately in response to the bell. "Good evening Maa!" he greeted me as he came into the room after a slight knock. "Huh!" Onyeisi Chief! How are you?" I asked as I teased him. "I 'm fine , maa!" he answered with a shy smile and avoided my
"Ask Dorcas to get aunty a drink," Nkem said to him. As soon as he left, Nkem turned to me saying: "Effua, Comfort is expecting Odili's baby!" I was startled into silence for a minute or two not quite knowing what to say. I could easily appreciate what Nkem was going through. Another woman had succeeded where she had failed. Some other woman was giving the man she loved what was by right hers to give. She was tasting the bitter pill of failure mingled with frustrated anguish. "I felt humiliated Effua," she said to me, as I quietly got up from my chair and went to seat close beside her on the bed. "I suspected it would happen; I mean it's only natural," she said with a meaningful shrug. "I had long steeled myself for this when I first knew for certain that Comfort was sleeping with Odili. I honestly felt I could cope with the eventuality; but when I actually did hear the news from Odili yesterday night, I was completely shattered. I was initially drained of all emotions, but as the realisation hit me, it took all my will power not to rant and rave with frustration." I simply held on to her hand comfortingly as she shared with me the intensity of her emotional anguish. "It was painful Effua," she said in a soft whisper. "I haven't felt as tormented as I did yesterday night in a long, long, time. I've always felt I could cope with an emotion as base as jealousy or blind rage; 68 but yesterday, Effua, I felt like a wounded animal. It takes a situation like this to bring out all that is ignoble in us. Do you know I spent the whole night praying and asking God to give me what it takes not to wish Comfort and the baby ill and to bear this with as much grace as I can." Right now, I believe that prayer has been answered fully. My frustrated anguish has been replaced by an inexplicable calm and what resentment I felt towards Comfort, for as it were, usurping my right to give Odili his first offspring, has been replaced by a remarkable feeling of goodwill. Believing in God and in the power of your religion certainly does make a difference." She continued after a slight pause. "Until yesterday night, I never fully appreciated that biblical promise of Jesus, that he is able to mysteriously give comfort to those who come to him burdened with their problems. I only fell asleep this morning after I had spoken to you. I think it was just a little past eight o'clock?" she said and I nodded my head in confirmation as she looked up at me. "I feel so much better now, I can't explain it but I do" she ended. "For how long has Comfort been pregnant?" I asked. "Two months," she answered. "Odili felt so intrepid about breaking the news to me, but the fear of having me hear it from someone else other than himself, made him tell me yesterday night. In retrospect, I kind of feel sorry for him, it was a most unpleasant task for him, but do it he had to. I actually flinched when he gave me the news. He kept reassuring me that I still meant a lot to him and that nothing had changed; but I just remained blank; completely drained of all emotions and try as he may, he just couldn't get through to me. I just felt cold and frozen up. He was grieved by my anguish and I would really like to speak to him and reassure him. I still love him Effua, very much. I don't think anything could ever change that," she said wistfully as she looked out into the distance from where she sat. "Why don't you come and spend the weekend with me," I said after an appreciable pause. "The change will do us both some good," I urged and put an arm around her. "It sounds a good idea Effua, but I'm actually alright now," she said looking straight at me with a small smile. "I know, and I'm glad to hear that, but I still want you to come away and spend some time with me." "Very well but I do hope I am not upsetting anything you've already planned for the weekend?" 69 "Certainly not," was my glib response. "I also hope you don't mind if we attended the Stations of the Cross first of all before setting out?" she asked. "No, I certainly don't." I had actually planned to attend a similar mass at Ikoyi on my way back to Victoria Island. I told her so and she suggested that we attended the one at her local parish there in Apapa, since it was nearer. I would anyhow have been very late for the service at my local parish at lkoyi. Easter was just a few weeks away and for Catholics, the weeks preceding it were ones for prayer, fasting and penance. I loved this period called Lent in the Christian calendar, because of the discipline and solemnity it offered. I partook in the Lenten observances partly as a consequence of habit and partly as a consequence of my genuine desire to make a real effort to be a better person (hoping, this would persist long after Lent and Easter). I genuinely feel that history is being re- enacted during this period. The life of Christ becomes the focus of our attention, culminating in his death and crucifixion on Good Friday; then his resurrection on Easter Sunday. For me, this was the most important singular event or celebration in the Christian calendar. The Catholic faith had always intrigued and held an appeal for me both from an intellectual and pragmatic point of view. I loved going to Church and I did so on a regular basis, because the drama that went with saying the Mass never ceased to capture my imagination. I was forever enthralled by the ritual and palpable mystery that went with the Catholic Mass and Benediction services. My mother and father however felt that this was not in itself sufficient; for them this was only going half the way. They believed the full Christian experience came only when one had been baptised in the spirit of the Lord. This concept of 'Baptism in the Holy Spirit', which was germane to the Charismatic movement, of which they were both members, was novel to me. Nkem, who had become a recent member of that sect, had actually tried to explain the concept to me. She told me all it meant was just the awakening of the totality of one's spirituality to the person of Jesus Christ. She had laughed when I described the process of being immersed in the spirit as being in an altered state of consciousness. According to Nkem, Baptism in the Holy Spirit, could be accompanied by visible signs, such as speaking in tongues or in a heavenly language, which might or might 70 not be comprehensible to both the speaker or his listeners. Alternatively, it could occur quietly, with the individual concerned experiencing a deeper and more profound appreciation for God. According to Nkem: "You arrive at the realisation that God 'Is', and that beyond any shadow of doubt, you're loved by him, come what may". My parents, had become members of the charismatic renewal, soon after my father's recovery from a massive stroke, which had almost claimed his life. I had been away in the United States at the time, but I gathered that my father's total recovery had been a miracle in itself. Only his speech had remained slightly impaired by the experience. Over the years, I had watched my parents grow closer together in love and appreciation for each other after the incident. I don't know how much of this new-found love and tolerance, which they so readily shared with those around them, was as a result of the crisis they had been through, nor how much was owed to this new and intriguing dimension to their Catholicism. The same dimension created a subtle, but nonetheless definite change in Nkem's perception, if not attitude. She had always been a noble person for as long as I had known her; but her perception of certain things had changed slightly, and if this change was going to help her cope with this personal crisis, then, I guessed it had to be a good thing. We arrived at the parish church just in time for the start of the service. After the Stations of the Cross, there was a Mass which we also attended. Thereafter, we set out for Victoria Island. It was almost eight o'clock in the evening when we drove over the flyover bridge that brought us into the Marina. The drive was smooth and easy as the traffic had eased completely. Lagos laid below completely serene and awash in a profusion of street lights. For the umpteenth time I marvelled at the serene loveliness of Lagos after office hours. A gentle breeze blew in from the Marina as we drove along and it was so very difficult to believe that this same Lagos was the same place that had been a bedlam of human activities only a few hours before. Nkem softly hummed a tune and looked genuinely relaxed. She had rolled down the glass on her side and was enjoying the drive as much as I was. We soon arrived at the guest house and Susan, the only female receptionist employed by the gnest house and whom I had grown to be quite friendly with, gave me a message that had come in for me by phone. It was from Maruwa! and she had asked me to call her back at a 71 number which she had left with Susan. I thanked Susan for the message and continued to my suite with Nkem who was still humming her tune. "Here we are," I said with flourish, as I opened the door and switched on the main lights. "Hmh! what a pleasant apartment," Nkem said with obvious pleasure, as she set down her valise and laid down on the bed. "I'll order something for us to eat right away," I said, as I reached for the telephone. "I'm famished. I hope you are too." "Yes, I am hungry; I've actually not had anything to eat all day." "Hello! Could you bring me supper for two ... Yes, Dodo would
"Tea or Coffee Madame?" The kitchen staff I was talking to enquired. "Tea please," I answered. "And could you please send up some pineapple juice whilst we are waiting." "Yes, we'll do that," he assured me. "These people really go to great lengths to ensure that you're
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