Sorry it’s taken so long to bring you this. I feel like i don’t even have the moral right to…to…to talk plenty, lol. So I’m just going to dig in. I hope you find it was worth your wait. But this’ where we left off last;
When I arrived in Newark, I sought her out and verbally assaulted her to felony-magnitude. It took me two slow, long, hard months to win Afua back. In the process, I discovered that I was in love with her, because it dawned on me that there wasn’t any other girl I’ll have gone through all that trouble to get back. Edien nkwaa? When we surmounted that hurdle, I couldn’t fathom what could ever separate us. We were nineteen then, I was, and she was eighteen. Though unspoken, we had it all figured out; I’d marry her in the Pentecost church I met her in, and we’d live happily ever after.
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A bit over three months after we made up, I moved in with Afua. O yeah we did! By Ghanaian standards, it would have been unthinkable, but we were flying high in the land of limitless possibilities. Ask me anything right now, in any language, from any era, and still, answering you’ll be easier than explaining how moving in with her felt like. Imagine the happiest day of your life, what if you could relive it every day! (Ps: If it’ll get boring over time, then you probably haven’t really been that happy :-p)
It was some time in July, and I had gained admission to Legon, but who thought of schooling in Ghana when he woke up every morning to heaven-wrapped-in-flesh? My future was in the US, with Afua. Whether or not I’d continue with my education, how I’d get a job and stay independent of my father (who was outraged), was irrelevant at the time. Relevance was breathing Afua’s air, being in her space, loving her, knowing her. Read the rest of this entry »


