Why me?

I am Ayola, a third year student of sociology-anthropology. I got my license this year 2019. I was preparing for an educational outing in Mono, a department located in the south of Benin, where I had obtained my CEP, BEPC and BAC. My defense theme focused on Adja culture. I settled in Comctor, a city located almost 53 kilometers from Lokossa, because my parents resided there. Mother orphan since the age of 10, I had to take care of my father, who has become weaker, while working on my training report.

That morning, I had a discussion with him about my budgetary situation. Nothing seemed promising, because I no longer had enough money to go to research places. It was nine o’clock, and the day promised rather beautiful, with a slight sun that got up on the horizon. I was alone at the back of the taxi when I heard a woman’s voice screaming:

- Taxi … Taxi … a person.

The taxi driver stopped. The door opened, and I expected to see a woman go up, but he was a man who appeared. He took time to settle, which began to irritate the driver. Finally, the passenger manages to sit down, and I saw his face.

The driver started, and I kept taking stealthy looks to the man sitting next to me. Not only was he presentable, but he also felt very good. His fine fingers held a pen and a notebook in which he scribbled something that I did not know. With his face with fine lines, he seemed absorbed by his activity. A strong desire crossed me: to take her pen to write on his notebook, “you are cute”. But I didn’t have the courage!

We were near the crossroads of Zoungbonou when the car broke down in the middle of the road. One after the other, we went down. In one way or another, we found ourselves hand in hand to cross the track, where cars and motorcycles passed continuously. Once out of traffic, we began to look for another taxi. I was already late, but being with him made me waste the concept of time. It was he who took the initiative to approach me first.

- It’s no longer so sure to find a taxi here.

- You are right. Drivers are already full from the Sé market.

- Exactly.

This man seduced me with his beautiful male voice, his beautiful smile and his angelic face. But he didn’t realize it.

Still no taxi. He had now turned his gaze on the other side. It was then that I finally revealed what I had on my heart.

- You are a handsome man.

He looked up at me and gave me his pretty smile.

- You are also a beautiful creature.

- THANKS.

Finally, a taxi arrived. There was only a place left, and he left me. Before leaving, he slipped his business card into my hand. Late in the evening, I composed his number.

- “ Good morning ! You are on Jean’s messaging, please leave your message. »»

- Hi Jean. It’s Ayola. We met this morning … It was to wish you a pleasant night. Bye.

I was already in my bed, my laptop in hand, thinking of him. The ringtone of my phone came out of my thoughts. My heart began to beat very hard. I hadn’t even taken the time to read the number before winning, I was so sure that it could only be Jean. My interior was burning with joy.

- Hello ?

- Hi darling!

My enthusiasm died suddenly. A strange feeling invades me.

- Hi Serge.

-I did not know that I would find you still awake at this hour, especially since you fall asleep very quickly! Do you have a health problem?

- No. Why this question ?

-Because you don’t answer me well, and I thought you were mighty.

- Oh no. It’s because I’m already sleeping.

- I apologize to you, my darling. I didn’t know it. I had just come back and wanted to hear you before bed. I will spend tomorrow night with you. I can’t wait to hug you. Many things to parents.

- I will not miss.

- You don’t tell me your usual sentence tonight?

- Which ?

- GOOD. I’ll tell you: I love you, darling.

For the first time, I hesitated to say these simple words, apparently, at the place of Serge.

- I love you too.

The night was long. I hadn’t slept well. I had not stopped thinking of Serge, my fiancé, and Jean. I no longer understood my feelings. What was I feeling for Jean? Do I still love Serge? All these questions remained unanswered.

At five in the morning, Jean called me. I was very happy to hear it. He wanted me to go to his office at any time of the day.

- I will not be able to come, Jean.

- Please. I have so much to tell you … and I suppose you too.

- … ok. I will be there.

He was the director of a large hotel called *in Media Res *. He was only 25 years old.

Three years passed, and I never had the courage to tell him that I had a fiancé. Serge worked in tourism and was constantly traveling, but that didn’t prevent him from regularly making my news. I continued my studies after the defense. While Serge had presented me as his future fiancée to his parents, I had presented Jean as a simple friend to mine, who already recognized Serge as my fiancé for years.

A moment I didn’t know what to do. One day, Jean brought me home.

-Ayola, I love you more than myself. You are my joy of living and hoping.

- I love you too, Jean. More than you imagine.

He was happy. He took my hand in hers and looked me in the eyes.

-Ayola … would you accept to be my wife?

I remained silent because I didn’t know what to say. And yet, I was madly in love with him.

- Say something, please.

- Jean … it’s that … I would have liked to tell you since, but …

- What to tell me? You don’t love me enough to become my wife. Is that it?

- No ! You like you, Jean. I’m crazy about you and I wouldn’t like to get lost.

Always so soft and understanding, Jean hugged me and reassured me.

- You won’t lose me.

- Jeans…

- Yes, my Dulcinée.

-Give me a little time …

- All the time you want. Excuse me for having precipitated things.

One evening, Serge came back from one of his countless trips and went directly to my house. My parents appreciate it a lot. They would never accept that I marry another man, who, however, occupies an important place in my life. Serge is no longer interested in me, as was the case for years, and I cannot explain it. Usually he told me about his stay in the different countries he visited.

We rang at the door, and my father sent the servant, arrived almost two weeks ago, to open the portal. In the space of thirty seconds, I saw Jean enter the living room, when he had not announced his arrival.

- Isn’t that true? Who do I see? Serge launched.

- Dear friend! There are ages that I have not seen you!

Serge left his headquarters to join his friend. They hugged their hands strongly and kissed. I wanted to blend like an ice cream and disappear. The two old friends discussed their past, evoking the memory of their other friends with whom they had attended. Then, when they separate, Serge asked:

-But what are you looking for here?

- I came to visit Ayola.

- I didn’t know you knew yourself! How small the world!

- Yes.

After welcoming me, Serge prayed Jean to sit down and suddenly asked him if he had already married.

- No. But I have a fiancée.

Then he looked at me. My throat was knotted.

- And you, Serge?

- I also have a fiancée … She’s just in front of you.

- Ayola? He was surprised.

Serge, always smiling, did not realize anything.

- Yes … I love it. Isn’t she pretty, Ma Ayola?

I wanted to twist his neck so that he was silent for a while.

- … uh … yes … of course … your ayola is very pretty.

A puff of heat enveloped me and my belly was burning.

-Excuse me … I’m going to ask to leave.

- Oh ! Why so fast?

- It was just a courtesy visit.

I got up to accompany it to the portal.

- All right. At any time, dear friend.

When we finally found ourselves alone, he admitted to me that I had deeply injured him.

-How could you do this to me?

- Jean … I didn’t want to get upset … I hadn’t had the courage to tell you in time. Despite everything, I love you. You are all my life, Jean.

- Ayola … My feelings for you will remain the same, despite the harm you inflicted on me.

- Jean … Jean … I …

He no longer listened to me. He quickly went up to a taxi and disappeared.

Since that day, Jean has never returned. Despite the letter in which I explained my conduct to him, he hadn’t answered me. Years later, I touched a handsome boy. Serge was the father. My parents did not want me to leave him, and yet they already knew the truth. Jean had been the only man I loved, but he had arrived a little late in my life. Why me?

Serge made me a very young widow. He died of a brain tumor. A year after his death, I went to Burkina Faso with my son to rest. I had chosen an inn where we would spend two weeks. I was warmly welcomed by a thin and smiling young lady.

The young lady looked down, visibly saddened by my reaction.

- It’s been two years now … He had a car accident. We have lost a good and generous man.

My legs weaken in shock, and I say to rely on the counter so as not to fall. My son, still asleep in my arms, did not realize what was going on.

- Jean… left? I repeated in a broken voice.

She nodded in silence. Hot tears sank on my cheeks without me being able to hold them back. My heart hugged, invaded by deep and deaf pain. So many memories returned to my mind, moments that I thought I had buried.

- He left a big void here … continued the young lady. He was respected by everyone. His plans for the hostel were ambitious, but above all he was due to the fact that each customer felt at home.

I tried to resume my breath.

- I … I didn’t know … I’m sorry …

-You knew him well, right?

I nodded.

- More than you can imagine …

She looked at me with compassion.

- If you need to speak, I’m here.

- THANKS…

I took the key to the room and slowly directed myself to the stairs, with a heavy heart. Each step seemed endless to me. By opening the door of the bedroom, I put my son on the bed and sat next to him.

-Jean … I whispered. Why did I arrive too late, again?

The silence of the room resonated like an echo of my regrets. Life had played its cruel role, separating us forever. I had never been lucky to tell him everything I felt, to ask him for forgiveness. Now it was too late.

Tears flowed freely. My son woke up and looked at me with his big innocent eyes. He touched my cheek, as if to wipe my tears.

- Mom … why are you crying?

I took it in my arms, hugging it as if I could soothe my pain.

- Because sometimes my darling … The past comes back to haunt us.

At that moment, I knew that I had to move forward, for him, for me … and in memory of John.

- Five years ago. It was two years after his death that I started exercising here. I had never seen it then.

-Was he sick? Does he have a family here?

- No. His family lives in Cotonou. It seems that he had no woman or children. Today is his cousin that manages the hostel.

- Thank you for giving me some time. Excuse me for having disturbed you.

- It was a pleasure. Excellent night to you, Madame Ayola.

- THANKS.