Life Still Owes Me Cherries
Three long years have passed, and nothing, but I’m holding out
“I hate my life because of you!”
I sat tongue-tied in our tanned Hyundai Azera ‘06 edition as, Emem, my wife, brazenly left the car and climbed the muddy stony kerb to the line of market stalls. The magnitude of her words stunned me. Her voice quipped with audacious lips. I could feel it was a statement excavated from the depths of her soul, possibly resided for years. But, sadly, I was the recipient. My wife accused me of neglect and belittling family values, misguiding them through selfish ambition and into a cul-de-sac of impoverishment.
At her departure, I battled with a pang of guilt and anger. Guilt, knowing I’d compromised her immigration to the UK to further her education. It was all Emem ever wanted, but I shelved it for my ambitions. I felt it could wait until I fulfilled my desire to become prominent and accepted into influential social circles. Such upliftment would benefit the family eventually. My turn first, then hers. I purchased a luxury four-wheeled sedan to enhance my public portfolio following my ambitions. As a result, my social life flourished, and my pockets drained. Unfortunately, a poor choice depleted my resources and Emem’s travel dreams too.
On the other hand, I was angry at her disdain for our marital vows. Wasn’t I meant to be her numero uno, the man after her dreams whom she’d vowed to spend her entire life? It was evident I’d lost my place, segregated to a lower tier of affection. Emem assessed agreeing to our matrimony happened to be her mistake. She blamed me, citing I carried a marital omen, and her life blackened with the soot of our union. In the weeks following, her sadness became a periodic lamentation.
Little did she know the worst was yet to come.
An Ominous Hiatus
During the dark days, the brighter side of California ebbed, and my job hung on a balance. Age caught up, and my relevance subsided. At least that was my interpretation. But, if not, why would a seasoned technocrat, a noble school administrator, pass through the hoop for no justifiable cause? I’d reacted to an inappropriate school policy, and instead of rectifying it, the Executive management asked me to leave or conform. I stuck with my pride and went.
In the months that followed, monetary troubles encapsulated. I found myself in a ring with poverty smacked and battered by unpaid bills and blighted by a tarnished reputation of financial irregularity. Backed against the ropes, I needed a way out. But how could I get this furious heavyweight puncher to stop at the bell, even after throwing in the towel? No jobs were coming, and the punching sprees continued. I was inexplicably overwhelmed; the school threw my children out, and the caretaker cut off our water supply to force us to leave the residence.
Emem could no longer cope and left with the kids in the guise of a Christmas holiday at her mom’s. She rolled with me in the good times, when the cherries blossomed in the orchard, but lost stamina in the austere winter season. After the Christmas holiday, she refused when I called for their return. Instead, she spilt the beans, unceremoniously letting me know our marriage was over. Stunned and bruised, I carry on to date.
Born to Win
Irrespective of life’s hard knocks, I’m determined to eat from the cherry tree again. Purposefully conjure the season of plenty through hard work, resilience and the interposition of luck. In my candid opinion, Uwem Daniels is an intelligent, focused, and trustworthy individual. Capable of raising a family intertwined in collageneous harmony and love no matter the fight of adversity.
Although I went down to the count, I will rise again to reclaim my belt, and someday life will crown me as champion. My family will witness my celebration and believe once more in destiny. On Medium, I rediscovered my potential. Every fibre agrees. I was born to write and live my dreams. I’ll write until the world finds me, and I’ll ride on the crimson wings of fortune. But most especially repossess my family from the jaws of oblivion.
It’s been two Christmases since I saw my family last, but whatever it takes, I’ve vowed not to spend another Christmas without cherries.
Thank you, Yana and Carmellita, for inspiring me to write on a consciousness shift. You are a fantastic duo.
