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Dele And Aisha By Aniebiet Effiong

POSTED 02/17/2018 15:58:43
4775 Reads Dele And Aisha By Aniebiet Effiong, short story on Tushstories
Dele and Aisha were found seated under the big lemon tree planted by late Madam Judith many decades ago talking with each other as if death would do them apart in the next few minutes.
"Sweetheart, I never imagined that a day like this would ever come in our lives. A day you'd be leaving Dele all alone in Nigeria..." Dele spoke with a please don't leave me look on his face.
"Dele, I never planned of this day, neither did you. I’m only leaving Nigeria for a few years. Please stop acting as if I’ll be leaving till eternity. You know I love you. And I’ll always do" Aisha replied with a mild tone looking intently into his eyeballs with their hands fixed in each other’s.
"I'll miss You Aisha",
"I'm missing you already Dele."
Aisha Ibrahim was a young damsel who was given a scholarship by the state Government to study medicine and surgery in the University of Paris, France. This was as a result of her consistent academic excellence and intelligence. Some thought it was because her father, Dr. Ibrahim Sanusi PhD, was the then Commissioner for Health and Environment, but that was not the reason. Her nine distinctions in all subjects, and also being the best science student in her school and the state as a whole was what brought her to limelight.
"Dele I should be on my way... It’s getting dark. Dad permitted me for one hour. You know I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning." Aisha spoke after spending almost three hours with Dele.
"Aisha promise me something"
"What?" she asked.
"Aisha, just promise you will come back to marry me after the six years abroad."
"Dele, with all my heart, I promise. Nothing shall make me forget you. Take good care of your mother. When I become a medical doctor I shall treat her." she said these words hugging him tightly.
"Aisha, I love you" Dele whispered into her ears.
"I love you too. I'll write you when I reach France." she replied and ran away with tears in her eyes, waving at him and also looking back every second till she got to the main road.


One month later, as Dele was sitting with his kid sister Joy who was fanning their mother who had been ill few years ago, a young and handsome looking man in a well ironed white short sleeved shirt, blue shorts, with a red tie knocked on the door of the hut.
"Hello, is anybody in?" The man asked also clapping.
Dele handed the woven fan to Joy and immediately went to see who the person was.
"Yes, you are welcome. How may I help you?" Dele welcomed him.
"Are You Mr Dele Bolaji?" the man asked.
"Yes I am." Dele replied.
"Here is something for You." the man spoke as he gave Dele a letter sealed in an envelope.
"Thank You. Good bye" Dele showed his appreciation and bade him goodbye. When he opened the envelope he found a letter inside.

Dear Dele,
How are You over there? I just wanted to bring to your knowledge that I arrived Paris safely.
France is more beautiful than what we heard. The people are nice and accommodating. My first day here, I was served with a delicious delicacy called Vol-au-vent. Yesterday I ate Coquilles st. Jacques. Within these days I've been to places of which Lille is among. My friends have promised to take me to Monaco next week. Life is really good over here. The only challenge is the weather condition of which my body is getting used to.
Dele I love you. Bye for now.
Your sweetheart,

"Brother what is that?" Joy asked.
"Oh, it’s a message from my friend" He answered. "We have to prepare food for mama. She must be hungry" Dele told the sister as they both walked to the kitchen.
Dele's mother, mama Dele, was ill for good six years with no sign of recovery. Dele and the younger sister Joy were the ones who went farming, cooked and took care of the family whilst the mum was on sick bed. The only time Mama Dele was found outside was when she went out with the help of Joy to urinate or defecate. The two lovely and hardworking children never ceased to pray for the mother day and night but the severity of the sickness kept increasing day by day.
3 years later, Dele sold pumpkin leaves to sponsor Joy through her secondary education. Joy was in her final year in secondary school and was on the course of writing her final year examination the same way Dele wrote eight years ago before Mama Dele fell ill.
One Wednesday evening, when they returned from their normal hawking, the entered the thatched house, threw the trays to the table.
"Mama Good evening!" they both chorused expecting the normal response from her.
Mama was lying lifeless with her eyes wide open. They both went to where she was lying, shook her, but it was needless. Mama Dele had finally given up. Yes she was gone. If tears could bring the dead back to life then Dele and Joy's would have resurrected Mama Dele. The neighbours around assisted in burying the remains of Mama Dele. On the red sand it was written, 'Rest in Peace Madam Amina Bolaji (nee Mama Dele)'


Few months after the burial, Dele was still mourning. He felt lonely in the world though Joy was there to represent the Mother.
As he was sitting, thinking and remembering the memories he had with his mother when she was hearty, the man who gave him a letter years ago walked into the compound. Dele welcomed the man and received the letter sent to him by Aisha. Before opening he wondered who told Aisha about the demise of the mother that she had to send a condolence message.

Dear Dele,
Goodday! Special greetings to You and the family. How are You? I hope Mama is now fine?
It’s exactly four years since I left Nigeria to study in Paris, France. I am writing this to get you informed about something I term 'important'.
You know as we grow daily, we leave the world of fantasy into that of reality. Dele, all the things we had years back were just fantasies. I have found a man over here who is ready to marry me once I’m through with school. His name is Jesse, a son to the Secretary General of Columbia. I love him, and he also loves me. He promises to follow me to Nigeria and perhaps live there too except I say otherwise.
I think it is wise informing you now so you won't be taken unawares or taken by surprise. I advise you don't spend all your days waiting for Aisha to come back and marry you. I came to realise that it is a shame on my family for me to marry someone like you. Just move on with your life. Find a woman of your calibre who shall love you. I'm sorry if this hurts. Attached are the photos you and I took together. It’s of no use for me. Once again I'm sorry for the pains caused.
Your (ex) friend,
Aisha Ibrahim.


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