Post by Being Ready And Stable (BRAS) (@brashub)

NNEKA'S DIARY VI

Kelvin tried a few times to engage me in conversation, but I wasn't interested. I kept smiling without saying much.
"You seem shy," he said. "Can we step aside? I know this compound well."
"Anything you want to say can be said here," I replied.
He smiled awkwardly and returned to his phone.

Not long after, I sighted Kunle at the entrance of the ranch. My heart skipped. He scanned the crowd until our eyes met. Butterflies immediately filled my stomach.
To distract myself, I called Grace.
"It's 3 a.m. and you're still awake?" I asked.
"I'm watching a movie," she replied.
We spoke briefly, but my eyes never left Kunle as he greeted guests from table to table. Then Kelvin disappeared. A few minutes later, Kunle approached our table. My heart nearly jumped out. I lowered my face and pretended to be busy with my phone.
"Hi bro," he greeted Mr. Philip.
After exchanging pleasantries with everyone, he pulled a chair beside me.
"I'm glad you came," he whispered.
"Same here. My condolences."
"Thank you, dear."
After a few minutes, he stood up.
"Neky, I'll see you when all this is over. I appreciate your presence."
Then he left.

And just like that, happiness quietly returned. Maybe he asked them to bring me. But another thought interrupted: his wife was still alive when we met. Why did he pay so much attention to me then? Was he actually hitting on me?
"Nneka, calm down," I told myself.

Later, we retired to our rooms.
The loud sound of an ambulance woke me up around 9:00 a.m.
Priscilla called me through the connecting door.
"Let's get ready for the burial," she said.

After prayers and rituals, Angela's body was moved to the graveside.
I returned upstairs briefly and stood at the balcony overlooking the burial. People wailed openly.
For the first time, I saw a man cry.
Kunle was broken.
Angela must have been an exceptional woman for people to mourn her this deeply.

A thought crossed my mind:
"Nneka... if given the opportunity, can you fill shoes this big?"

Before I knew it, tears rolled down my face.
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Priscilla.

As she consoled me, one thing bothered me: she wasn't nearly as affected as everyone else.
"Were you close to Angela?" I asked.
She said no. I became curious. If Kunle and Philip were close friends, why weren't their wives?
"Why not?" I inquired.
She smiled faintly. "Story for another day." My curiosity doubled.

I have always believed accident deaths are the hardest — no warning, no preparation, no final words. Just gone.
I don't wish such a death on anyone.

To be continued...

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