Eiii, she still believes I owe her a proposal 14 years later.
She was one of my classmates. I was the person who pretended to be a serious student by sitting in front of the class. She was the girl who preferred to sit in the back of the class so that the valuation instructor wouldn’t point at her and ask, “Esi, what is the dividend discount model?”
She liked to lurk in the background since she rarely replied. I was the guy who was buddies with all of the class’s lovely females. She was beautiful but wasn’t my friend because she was always at the back—at the back where the guys who wanted to hide also sat.
Our class went on an industrial attachment in 2008. We both stayed on campus. She came to my room one night. We sat and watched movies. We ate. We were drunk. She returned the next day. And she arrived the next day. Every day and night, it was just the two of us. We kissed one night. “Why are you kissing me?” she inquired. I don’t recall what I said, but she kissed me back, so I was fine. We were a guy and a girl who kissed when they were alone after that.
Our class came back from industrial attachment to meet us. She never sat in the back of the classroom again. She sat in the front row, where the valuation professor would see her and ask, “What is the Difference Between Enterprise Value and Equity Value?” She’d get up and provide the proper answer, surprising the class. They had no idea that while they were all away, she had stayed with me at the library and we had learned together. She wasn’t the girl who sat in the back and gossiped while the speaker spoke. She had evolved into the girl who took the lecturer’s marker and answered questions on the board.
I can’t remember the year, but it was probably about 2010. We’d finished our national duty and were seeking work. That was the most terrible period of my life, and it was entirely my fault. People attend school to obtain a credential. I went to school, graduated, and obtained a girlfriend. I’m not sure what I was thinking. Maybe I believed my credentials alone wouldn’t get me a job, so I added a girlfriend to it. After national service, I struggled through life, fearful of not finding work and losing my partner to someone who did.
I made it my goal to find work before losing everything, but a year later, I was still at home, jobless, and worthless.
I was wandering through Amakom, near the Genesis hotel in Kumasi, with Esi one evening. I was directly in front of her. Being in front of someone is the only way for an unemployed man like me to advance in life; therefore, I enjoyed being ahead of her whenever we walked. I heard a vehicle screaming behind me just around the corner to the Genesis hotel. When I turned around, there was a white SUV parked in the center of the road. The driver said “siii” to tell Esi to get closer.
I was already standing close to the driver by the time Esi arrived at the car.
He pressed the gas pedal and drove away. “You were ahead of me, so why did you come back here to damage my market?” Esi said.
She was making light of the issue, but a jobless man has no time for jokes. “Don’t worry about these potbellied chaps,” I said. They’ll simply ruin your life for you. I’ll acquire a job one day. I’ll make some money. I’m going to get a bigger automobile than this one.
Close your eyes and make a wish, I’ll tell you. Whatever you hoped for will be right in front of you when you open your eyes. The future seems promising. “Don’t worry about that moron.”
I got a job one day. Isn’t that great news? I worked for two years before deciding to marry.
I was twenty-seven years old when I contacted my aunt and said, “I want to marry.” I could see her removing the phone from her ears to double-check that she was speaking to the correct person. “What did you say?” she inquired. “I want to marry, so call my father and mother and inform them,” I said. “Is it one of your jokes, or are you serious?” she inquired. “I want to marry, and I’m serious about it,” I said again.
“No, you can’t marry,” she simply stated. I’m telling you, you can’t. What age are you? What are you looking for in a spouse? You’re a student (I was doing a two-year top-up at Tech). “Concentrate on your studies and put marriage off for another day.” She cut the line.
I informed my aunt, who is my mother’s elder sister. Apart from that, I lived with her for several years until moving in with my parents after graduating from high school.
My mother called the next day. “Awo na si dn no?” she asked, her voice gloomy. What do you want to do? Who are you, Esi? And she’s consented to marry you? You?” She burst into laughter. “I’m not going to say much.” Everything has been revealed to you by your aunt. You haven’t arrived yet, and no one is pressing you to marry. “Please take your time.”
Obviously, none of them was prepared to listen, so I went home one day to talk to my father about it. When I arrived, my father was eating. I chose a chair and sat next to him. “Dad, I want to marry,” I explained. You’ve met Esi, right? “She’s the genuine deal.” “You want to marry?” he replied without even looking at me. That’s great. Contact her parents. Inquire about their availability. “We can go knock on doors.”
I stood up straight, glanced at my mother, and wagged my tongue at her. She wasn’t upset. “Give me Esi’s father’s phone number and let me contact him,” she asked. That was all. My father covered the cost of my wedding. My aunt bought a lot of items for me and subsequently told me, “If you need more money, call me.”
I discovered her when she was 21 years old. I was 24. She is 35 years old today. How quickly time passes…
Our names had changed multiple times, but we remained the same; we were known as “classmates.” We fell in love. We later married and had a child. We are now referred to as parents. The names keep changing, but we’re still the same people we used to be: lovers. We don’t care who sits in front of the class and who sits in the back. Today, we sit next to each other, watching two sons develop before our very eyes.
The inquiries have developed. We no longer respond to Sinking Fund inquiries. We respond to inquiries on how to get our feet off the sinking sand.
She still feels I owe her a proposal, 14 years later. A male and a girl meet. The boy makes a proposal to the girl. “Give me some time to think about it,” the girl adds. That’s how regular relationships begin, but I skipped forward to the point when the boy kisses the girl and they live happily ever after.
