It was April 11th, 2015. I remember that day very well because it was the date my friend got married and it was a week before my birthday. It was my friend’s wedding so I traveled from Cape Coast to Prestea, a journey of over five hours. If you add the bad road to it, then it becomes a journey you’ll only travel if the one involved is worth it. I set off from Cape coast around 4pm but got to the town very late in the night, around 9pm. I couldn’t see my friend. The moment was ripe for him to put all other things right before the D-day so he was busy. I understood him. I saw him the next day when he was walking to the church. Everything happened just the way it ought to happen. The wedding was beautiful and the happiness inside the church was palpable. 

When it was time for collection, a lady walked to the altar, took the microphone, and started singing. I looked at her once and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I wasn’t listening to the song she was singing. I was looking at her and dreaming of becoming her friend. When I got to the offertory bowl and put my money into it, she was standing closer so I looked at her and smiled. She smiled back. Then a whole line of thought sprang up in my head, “Does she have a boyfriend? Then that guy is one lucky dude. It’s not fair for one person to have all this beauty to himself. Who even made that rule? I will find out from her after church.”

I couldn’t wait until the end of service. Immediately she finished singing and stepped out, I followed her. She was out there cleaning the sweat on her brow when I said hello. She said hello back. “Such a wonderful voice you have. If I belong to this town, I would have come to this church because of you. You made my day and thanks so much.” She was shy. She couldn’t look at me in the face. Her eyes were on the floor as if she had lost something. She responded, “Thanks so much. You’ve encouraged me to do better.”

When the service was over and the couple was taking photos, I saw her seated next to another lady. I walked up to her and introduced myself. I asked, “Can I have your number? We could talk sometime.” She looked at the girl next to her and shook her head. “It’s alright. We don’t need to talk. I’m happy you enjoyed the singing. I don’t take credit for that. It’s a gift I didn’t deserve so I can’t pretend it’s all by my might.” The girl next to her was looking at me with anger in her demeanor., As if I wasn’t welcome. As if I was a nuisance. I got the message. “She didn’t give me the number because of that girl. I will meet her alone and get it.”

The next time I saw her, she was getting into a taxi with that same girl who had anger in her demeanor. There was nothing I could do. My chances of getting her number went with the wind. I told myself, “It wasn’t meant to be. Let it go.” In the car going back to Cape Coast, I wasn’t thinking about the wedding I just attended. I was thinking about her, ”What’s her name? What does she do? Does she cry when she’s hurt? Does her man treat her badly? A girl like her gets a broken heart?” Throughout the whole journey, I never stopped thinking about her. I wrote on my Facebook wall, “The ones we want never look at us but in the end, they go to people who don’t want them. Such is life. One man’s meat is another man’s poison.”

I got home, went to work, met old faces, and shook old hands. The e-mail line was still the same, “Please find attached for your information. Warm regards.” I went through life doing all the things I used to do but I couldn’t shake the thought of that girl off my head. “What is she doing at this time? Is she happy? Is she smiling the way she did the last time I saw her? Who is loving her? And who is she loving? I wonder.” The day ended with her in mind. I went to bed thinking about her; “Does she fart when she’s alone? A beautiful girl like her? I’m not sure.” I said to myself, “I will wake up tomorrow morning and I won’t think about her again. The memory will fade and life would be normal again. It was Friday and I was still thinking of her.

Saturday was my birthday. I was alone in my room when I had this crazy thought, “Why don’t you go back and look for her? It would put your mind at rest and it would stop you from all these unnecessary wanderings.” But the question was, “Where do I see her? Where do I even start from? Prestea is not that big but looking for one person in a town like that can still look like looking for a pin in the hay. It’s not easy. I called my friend. The one whose wedding I attended. James. I asked if he remembers that girl. He said he didn’t see her. I asked him to ask his wife if she knows her and if she could get me her number. The response he brought back was, “She said she doesn’t remember the girl who sang that day.” “But isn’t it her church? Why would she not know her?” James said, “You know my wife lives here with me. She only went back to get married because it’s her childhood church. She doesn’t know everyone in that church.

Early Sunday dawn, around 4:30am I was in a Takoradi-bound car. I got to Takoradi before 6am. I got a car to Tarkwa and before 11am I was in Prestea, right in front of the church where I met her. I stood outside the church until I saw her standing in front there singing. I tracked her movement with my eyes. I saw where she was seated in the church. I monitored her until the church closed and she came out. Immediately she saw me said, “You came again? Maybe you should write your name here and start worshipping with us.” I smiled. I said, “I don’t live in this town. If I did, I would have been here every Sunday. I love what you do.”

This time, her friend who had anger in her demeanor wasn’t there. She had time for me. She asked where I’m from and I said Cape Coast. She asked, “So when are you going back?” I told her, ”I went back that day after the wedding. I’m here today because of you. I came to hear you sing again.” “All the way from cape coast? You’re lying.” I answered, “This is my second time in Prestea here. I don’t know anywhere. I don’t know anyone here. It’s true. I came because of you.” She looked at me like I was a mad person. She didn’t believe me but when I asked for her number again she gave it to me. I said, “Thank you. My journey wasn’t in vain. I will call when I get back to Cape Coast. She said. “Are you being serious with me or you’re just lying to me just to get my number? I answered, “Let’s go to Cape Coast if you doubt me.”

I called her around 8 pm. “I’m in Cape Coast now. I just got here.” She laughed. “You know I still don’t believe you, right? If you’re in Cape Coast then you came back to do something very important and decided to see me. You wouldn’t have come all the way just because of me.” I told her, “It was important for me to see you today. I don’t want to go through another week wondering about you. It’s too much suffering. I needed to end it and the only way was to travel back.” 

“So tell me, what do you want from me?”

“I don’t know. I have your number now. Only time will tell.”

She still didn’t believe me so the following Sunday, I made the same journey again. From Cape Coast to Takoradi. From Takoradi to Tarkwa. From Tarkwa to Prestea. I was there before the church closed. She was in a red dress that tightened her body. Every curve was on display that day. “You look beautiful,” I told her. She answered, “I’m worried about the way things are going. It’s beginning to freak me out. Are you pursuing me to kill me? Who sent you? And why would you take the trouble to come here every Sunday?” I told her, “To see you. That’s the only aim for now. I can’t kill a mosquito to save my own life. How can I kill someone like you?

She took me home that day. She lived with her mother and two other siblings. They were all older. She’s the youngest. When it got to the time to introduce me she said, “This is the guy. The guy who had been traveling from Cape Coast to see me.” Her mother laughed. “Abranti3, tell me it’s a joke. Why would you do all that because of this girl?” The way she said it sounded like it wasn’t worth it. Like the girl wasn’t worth the effort. But her name is Rose and Roses are worth all the attention in this world.

She was working with a small-scale mining company in Prestea. They buy and sell Gold. She was the one in charge of the office and in charge of the daily operation of the place. We talked a lot that day. It was getting late so she asked me, “Are you going back to Cape Coast or you’ll go to your relative here and go tomorrow morning?” I answered, “You still don’t believe me right? I have no one here but you. If you like, come and visit next weekend and you’ll understand.” Of course, she didn’t come but we talked every day and night. I knew about her day and she knew about mine. One night we stood on the phone all night. By the time the rooster crowed the third time, she had said yes to my proposal.

Persistence pays. You eventually get what you want when you put your heart into it and act toward it. All these motivations started to make sense to me because for once in my life, I’d pursued something, and that something had become mine when the odds were stacked against me. She said she didn’t like a long-distance relationship. “It lasts so long but it’s usually empty. People date for a year and live a better love life than people who date for ten years and live apart. What do they have to show for their existence? Nothing apart from morning calls and evening messages. A year together is better than forever apart, in my opinion.”

She was right but what could we do about it? 

I took my annual leave, picked my bag, and went to Prestea. I didn’t know where I was going to live but I went all the same. She saw me with my bag and asked, “Why this big bag? Are you not going back again?” I answered, “I’m on leave. I’m spending my leave here with you.” “Where?” She asked. I answered, “I don’t know but we can figure something out.” For a whole week, I was in a guest house. It was cheap. Many times the tap didn’t flow, the toilet didn’t flush but it gave me a place to sleep so I didn’t worry that much. In the morning, I will go with her to her office, stay with her all day until she closes from work. We’ll go to her house, spend the evening there and go back to the guesthouse. A week later, her mother agreed for us to stay together. “I’m doing this for you because you’re going through a lot for this girl.” Again, the way she said it. It was as though Roses didn’t deserve their attention.

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I stayed in their house for another week and some days. By the time I was going back to Cape Coast, the picture was clear. I could look into my future and see clearly that she was the one I was going to be with. 

We lasted for only eight months. 

After eight months, we were tired of dating. We wanted something new and the only new thing available to us was marriage. So, on January 23rd, 2016, I wore my black suit, took her hand in mine, and walked her to the altar. The same altar I found her some months ago. She was the singer that day when others were getting married but on that day, another person was the singer while she was getting married. James was there with her wife. He couldn’t believe it. His wife was like, “So how did you finally get her number? How did you do it? I didn’t know it was that serious.” I told her, “I also didn’t know it was that serious until it got serious.”

We have two kids. Ben and Brenna. We are not done yet. She wants four and I want three. Let’s see who will win. 

A lot of people advised me against marrying someone I met only eight months ago. They said it was too early to commit. They said I had to take my time to know her better. They said I might live to regret it because I’m making the greatest mistake of my life. Some said I was only infatuated and someday, the infatuation will clear and I will see through the mistake and regret it. I don’t know how long it takes for infatuation to clear. Some said after she delivers. “She will lose the shape you fell for and the love will wane.” Well, we have two and I’m still infatuated. We make love everywhere when the environment is right. I still have my infatuation intact.

If we listen to the voices against who we love, we may never settle. There’s always the bad side of things, even roses have their thorns. So should we not stop and smell the fragrances just because we are scared of getting pricked? I stopped, I smelled it and now she’s all mine. All the fragrances. And all the thorns. The fragrances are for every day. The thorns, once in a while. However you look at it, I won!

–Husband to a Rose

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