My Pride, My Fall

At twenty-six, I was sure I would die an old maid. Somehow, I always managed to chase prospective suitors away as if I was the one that owned the pump-action shotgun instead of my father.

One way or the other, I would find a way to say or do the wrong thing and turn a perfect relationship progressing perfectly like a suitcase on an airport conveyor belt heading toward the passenger into a lost luggage situation.

Not that I was desperate to get married, but when you start losing friends every spring down the rabbit hole of nuptial entanglement, you begin to wonder if there was something wrong with you. Sometimes it just wasn’t ideal to be the last woman standing.

The faint acrid odor from the snuffed-out candle flame, mixed with the smell of perfume and incense, reminded me where I was—my cousin Agnes’s wedding, somewhere in Northern New Jersey.

Before the ceremony started, the priest struggled to light the Unity Candle. Then the flame died on its own after flickering for about five minutes. Was that a bad omen of the future of this nuptial agreement? A sign of things to come? Goosebumps appeared on my skin.

I held my breath when the priest invited anyone to throw a wrench into the wheel of the forming union. A union, still the consistency of fresh bread dough.

The attendees heaved a collective sigh of relief when no one took up his offer.

You see, cousin Agnes likes sex a little too much. But who doesn’t? Just that where most would show decorum and restraint, Agnes doesn’t. She sees what she likes, and she takes.

“Lilly, life is too short,” she’d said to me once. “When you find a good man, don’t let pride get in the way. If you fall asleep on the wheel, others will take your place right away.”

A woman once accosted Agnes while grocery shopping and asked her to leave her man alone. And Agnes said, ‘I prayed to the good Lord for a husband, I didn’t know he would give me yours.’

Me, take relationship advice from Agnes? No way.

I smiled, waved, and took pictures when Agnes walked past my pew. I sang along to the booming recessional song, Happy by Pharrell Williams, ushering us out. My cousin and her fiancé were now duly husband and wife—responsibility transferred peacefully. The future of that union now rested in the hands of the newlyweds.

Wait, was he looking at me? I glanced at Clive Rowan across the aisle and quickly looked away. Not only was he looking, but all of his six feet athletic build in a form-fitting black suit and white shirt was facing me and smiling.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. He was probably smiling at the person behind me, but I tried to smile back. I felt like a chicken about to lay an egg.

I’d been in love and in a relationship with Clive since the first day I saw him at my aunt's place two years ago. Apart from the obligatory hello when we passed each other in the hallway, it was mostly a one-sided relationship in my head.

Since I lived nearby, once in a while, my aunt would ask for my help to watch her grandkids (their mother just walked down the aisle) while she ran errands, and I would run into Clive, who rented her basement. He was always in scrubs, either coming in or leaving

I walked along with the procession out of the church, pushing the thought out of my mind. Outside, I took many pictures with my phone, posted to Facebook and Instagram, and soon my friends were echoing their approval of me and my body-hugging red dress.

I scrolled down until I got to Nora’s response—it was a thumbs up. I let out a sigh of relief. Nora is model pretty, but not a model friend. She’s that friend that always wants to be the center of attraction. Dropping snarky remarks here and there and acting like her poop doesn’t stink. The photos would be one of the topics on our biweekly rendezvous.

Clive was there again at the reception, looking at me as if with new eyes. Clive Rowan and Lisa Dike? No. It sounded more like a pipe dream that would never materialize.

+++

A week later, I got a text from my aunt— she needed help. I dropped in on my way back from the elementary school where I taught first-grade teacher not too far from her.

“Lisa! You’re a sight for sore eyes,” said Aunt Amaka once she opened the door. “Come in!”

“Good evening, auntie,” I said and stepped into the house. I heard the kids yelling and laughing.

Auntie Amaka grabbed her handbag. “You looked so pretty in your red dress last weekend, like a young Tyra Banks. I saw all the eyes following you. The next wedding will be yours.”

My late mothers' sister winked at me. The room suddenly felt hot. “Auntie, you don’t have to butter me up. I’m happy to watch the kids.”

“I know, but it’s true. They’re circling the wagons. Anyway, I just need to dash to the store for a few minutes. Set the kids up with snacks in the family room upstairs or whatever show they want to watch.”

I gave the kids some snacks and a drink. They wanted to watch Spiderman, no problem. Once they were settled, I headed to the kitchen to get a drink— and I saw him.

He was dressed in a tee-shirt and jeans, showing his broad shoulders and rippling biceps. He sat on a chair by the dining table, an open book in front of him.

Clive smiled. “Hello. I didn’t know you were here.”

His voice was deep. Words clear with an accent like someone that spoke French too. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer. “I-I just got here.” Keep your cool Lisa. “Are you studying?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. An embarrassed look crossed his face, and his lips parted in a smile. “No, actually, I’m off today. It’s been a busy few weeks.” He sat tall and squared his shoulders. “I saw you at the wedding. Before I could come over, you were gone.”

Hmm, did my aunt set me up?

This time instead of fleeing, I walked toward him. Somehow emboldened. “Each time I see you, you’re always in a hurry or busy.”

He extended his hand to the seat across from him. “Please join me.”

“So, what type of doctor are you?”

“The type that likes you.”

I hesitated as I pulled the chair out, my pulse racing. “Is that so.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He had a smug look on his face.

Now that was music to my ears. But I didn’t want to appear too eager. “Interesting. So, when did you realize that?”

“Since the first time, I saw you. I was just scared you might not want anything to do with me.”

Too much, too soon. I felt like I was trying to drink from a hydrant. I made a tippy with my hands and rested my chin on the pointed end, a warm fuzzy feeling spreading inside me. “So, what changed?”

“Well, I saw you at the wedding. I probably will be leaving New Jersey soon. Better now or never. What type of doctor am I? I love kids. I’m just finishing my residency in pediatrics, and hopefully will do a fellowship in Neonatology.”

Ah, subtle desperation. Welcome to my tribe.

He looked down at his hands, then up. “Your aunt said you came to the US with your parents from Nigeria when you were five.”

I nodded. His eyes bore into mine, and I felt something, a connection. Like we were on the same page. “Tell me about yourself. I know you’re from Sierra Leone.”

Clive was thirty-three and had lived an interesting life. For the next hour, he told me captivating and heart-wrenching stories about how he lost his family in the brutal civil war that ravaged his country of birth.

His recruitment as a child soldier and fighting against his will. UNICEF eventually rescued him and other children. Rehabilitation followed, and how he rediscovered his love for school.

“None of your family members survived?” My voice was a whisper.

He shook his head slowly while reaching into his tee-shirt. He brought out a pendant attached to a silver chain. “This is all that’s left of my family. My mother had this on when I found her. Every year, my memory of them gets dimmer and dimmer. Time has snatched away from me what they looked like.”

I covered my mouth with a fist. “My God.”

“When I finished college, with the help of NGOs and well-meaning individuals, I relocated to the US to attend medical school. I’m just finishing my residency, and I rented your aunt's basement, so I’ll be closer to the hospital.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

Clive drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You asked me what changed. As I said, I’ll be finishing residency soon and will leave town. I saw you at the wedding, and I had this incredible urge to reach out. Those years as a child soldier, I did things that now inhabit my nightmares. I didn’t think I was worthy of anyone’s love…your love. You miss 100% of a shot you never took. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Then he let out a bark of laughter. “What’s funny?” I asked.

“Between my rent, student loans, and bills, I’m so broke even the church mouse won’t want me as a relative. And you definitely wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Don’t be silly.” I felt I’d known him forever. I walked over to him. “Poor boy.”

“Exactly what I’m alluding to.”

I laughed. “Shut up. Not what I meant. You’ve gone through a lot.” I leaned forward and kissed him. I’d never done anything like that before. Never the aggressor. When our lips met, an electric current shot through me. His hands wrapped around me, and I felt like he’d lit several bush fires underneath my skin.

I broke off gasping for air when I heard feet pounding on the stairs as the kids ran down.

+++

Clive and I got to know each other better for the next several weeks, trying to make up for lost time. We were like fire and water, trying to put each other off. We went to the movies, dinner. We went on moonlit strolls in the park and sometimes just sat together on a park bench in each other's arms in companionable silence.

One night under a full moon, he stared into my eyes, kissed me on the lips, and then pulled back. He cupped my face, brushed my cheeks with his thumb, and said the words I’d been waiting to hear.

“I want to marry you, Lisa. But I want to be there for you and the family we will have. Will you wait for me? At least to finish my fellowship.”

“Yes, Clive, I will wait for you.”

I hadn’t shown up at the prearranged dates with my girlfriends, and they were beginning to get too curious.

“When are we going to meet him?” asked Nora one day as we sat for lunch at the school we both taught.

“Soon,” I said. “Soon.”

+++

One evening when Clive was on call, I decided to hang out with Nora and my other girlfriends. Girls' nights out was now a dwindling pool of four. We’d started with eight girls. We are down to four, and just Nora and I were still single. The remaining two married girls would soon drop out once they started having kids and priorities changed.

“So, how soon will we meet your physician friend?” asked Nora over her second Mimosa as we polished off Caramelized Onion & Feta pastry, and Vanilla-Bourbon Bacon skewers, at our local watering hole.

Before I could respond, Nora said, “Maybe you can bring him over to our place. We’re having a potluck dinner this Friday.”

“I’ll find out what his schedule is. I’m sure he’ll love to come.”

Nora took a long pull on her drink. “So. You’ve been seeing a lot of this guy. It looks like you are in the fast lane. Did he propose yet?”

Heat traveled from my ears down to the back of my neck.

“She’s blushing,” said the other girl. “He must have rocked her world.”

I had to come clean. I moved my head from side to side. “Kind of. He made me a promise. He wants me to wait for him to finish his fellowship.”

“Really,” said Nora. She held her palms together as if in prayer. “I hope you haven’t—”

She spreads her palms apart, keeping them connected at the heel. Then brought them together like the wings of a butterfly. “He should put a ring on it. Unless engagements are done differently where he comes from.”

I felt myself blush even deeper.

“Oh God,” said the other girl in a low voice. “Hit and run.”

+++

When I met Clive the following evening for a walk in the park, I told him about meeting with my friends. He wanted to know everything about them and was looking forward to meeting them at Nora’s place.

I laughed. “Nora wanted to know if engagements were done differently in Sierra Leone.”

The smile on his face faded. He seemed to collect his thoughts, searching for the right words to say. “I was afraid of that.”

“Afraid of what?”

He managed a smile. “We fall in love and give engagement rings where I come from too, but that was why I wanted us to wait, so I’ll be ready.”

Clive remained quiet for the rest of the walk. I felt sad for bringing it up and wished I hadn’t.

For the next couple of days, there was no sign of Clive. He sent a text that things had picked up in his unit. But despite that, he’ll still make it for the potluck dinner on Friday.

Friday evening, Clive picked me up from my apartment in his car, the first model RAV4. I smelled fried food as soon as I got in. It reminded me of the food section at a local carnival. “What is that?”

“Puff-puff.”

I swallowed. “Fried dough? Like Nigerian puff-puff?”

Clive nodded. “I spiced them up a little. Onions, peppers. Tomatoes.”

“Wow, my mouth is watering. I have just store-bought cupcakes.”

“You can start right now or wait until we get there. Up to you.” Then he smiled, like the cat that ate the canary. “I have something for you.”

“What?”

He reached into his pocket and brought out a velvet box.

My eyes widened. I felt a tingling all over.

He opened it, and inside was a ring, familiar fashion jewelry. It was the pendant he had on his chain. “Is it-?”

Clive picked up my left hand and said, “One of my female colleagues at the hospital educated me about marriage promises. It is an engagement, and I shouldn’t take it lightly. This ring is a token of my promise to you. Just give me the time I asked for, and I will make it up to you.”

He slipped the ring onto my ring finger. I raised my hand and fanned out my fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

+++

Both the puff-puff and Clive were a hit with my friends. We walked hand in hand as I introduced him to everyone. Nora’s attorney boyfriend was there, and some other friends with their spouses.

While Clive and the other men talked, we girls stood together and gossiped.

“Wow, Lisa,” said Nora. “You didn’t tell us he looked like a young Denzel Washington. Very Handsome.”

“Thanks.” My voice was a mumble. I was happy and embarrassed but alert to Nora and her jabs. Then her eyes drifted to my hand. I made a fist, tried to hide it, but too late.

Nora raised both hands. “Wait a minute! Wow. What is that big rock?”

She grabbed my wrist and brought it up to eye level. Mouth wide open. “Is that a diamond? He’s from Sierra Leone, right? I heard they have big rocks there just for the picking.”

“It’s just a cheap trinket he picked up,” I said offhandedly. “A promise of things to come.” Immediately I regretted my choice of words. Why did you say that?

Nora looked at me as if I’d forced a lime fruit into her mouth and ordered her to chew. What do I do? Say the truth, that Clive can’t afford a diamond ring yet? Or the much more interesting story behind the ring. Nora interrupted my thoughts.

“A promise?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Oh, I thought it was an engagement ring since it was on the right finger.”

My eyes drifted to the love of my life, confident and smiling with the other men making small conversations. He excused himself and walked toward the table with drinks and food.

I saw Nora watching him and then walking toward him. God. I made a beeline toward the table. Nora beat me to it.

“Hello, Clive, “said Nora. “I saw the big rock on Nora’s finger and thought it was a diamond. She assured me it was just a cheap trinket you bought as a placeholder. I just wanted to congratulate you on your promise…engagement.”

My heart sank. Right before my eyes, the twinkle in Clive’s eyes dulled, but he still managed to keep an amicable disposition

Nora leaned closer. “But I’m fascinated. Are there diamonds that big lying around in the bushes of your home country?”

“The easy pickings are long gone. You’ll have to mine for them.”

Nora nodded, then raised her hand. “I just got engaged.” What do you think?”

Clive forced a smile. “It’s big and beautiful.”

“Oh, here comes Lisa. I’ll give you two love birds some alone time.” She walked away. “I love the puff-puff,” she said over her shoulder.

I watched her walk away, a wry smile on her lips. Was Nora really my friend?

+++

“Cheap trinket, placeholder,” said Clive through clenched teeth as soon as Nora was out of earshot.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I—”

“I’m ready to go. You can stay on if you want.” Clive picked up his empty Tupperware bowl from the table and walked toward his car.

I left the velvet cupcakes, said a hasty goodbye to my other friends, and joined Clive in the car.

We drove on in silence that hummed like high tension cables until Clive broke it.

“I saw Nora’s massive ring. I didn’t know we were competing with her and her fiance. Cheap trinket.” Muttered Clive again.

“I’m sorry Clive. Nora knows how to push my buttons.”

“Those were the words you told her. I thought you appreciated the sentiments behind the ring, but it seems like I was wrong.”

+++

I tried to reason with him and apologize, but he’d switched off and wouldn’t speak to me. The fifteen-minute drive back to my apartment felt like an eternity. By the time he stopped at my apartment complex, Clive seemed to have reached a decision.

“I’m on call tonight. I have to get to the hospital.”

My heart was breaking. “Clive…”

He turned and looked at me with hurt in his eyes. “I’m sorry for putting you in an unpleasant position. I thought our love for each other would conquer any challenges that came our way, but I was wrong. I loved you from a distance, then opened my heart to you. Told you I didn’t believe I was worthy—”

“No. Please don’t say that. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Just words. Meaningless words,” said Clive in a low voice. He turned to face me, took my left hand in his. “You’re right. My parents were impoverished.” He ran his finger along the ring. “This is nothing but a cheap trinket.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I have to go. I think it’s better we forget each other. Better now than later.” He leaned across me and opened the door. “Goodbye Lisa.”

I got out of the car, and he leaned forward and pulled the door shut. You can put that cheap trinket in the trash.”

+++

I watched as he drove away. The sound of his engine faded, replaced by silence, punctuated by the sound of crickets and cars driving by. Once again, I’d managed to sabotage a perfect relationship on a conveyor belt to marital bliss.

I returned to my apartment and cried my heart out. Each time my phone buzzed, I grabbed it, thinking it was Clive. But it was just pictures from the potluck dinner. When photos of Clive and I started popping up, I couldn’t bear to look. I turned my phone off.

At a point, the night sky got darker, and soon it started to rain.

It was a wet weekend. Clive hadn’t called by Saturday, and I refrained from contacting him. I’d said I was sorry. What else could I do?

Agnes's advice came to me in the early hours of Sunday morning.

When you find a good man, don’t let pride get in the way. If you fall asleep on the wheel. Others will take your place right away.

Be your authentic self. Pride goes before a fall. I wronged him because I wanted to impress my friend. I must make it right. I swallowed my pride.

At sunrise, I drove to my aunt’s house to find him. She took one look at me and said one word. “Clive.”

I nodded and started to cry.

“Hush. Don’t cry. Come inside and tell me all about it.”

Auntie Amaka made coffee, and I told her everything. She just listened, nodding now and then until I ended.

“So, the ring brought about all these problems.”

I nodded. “Auntie Amaka…it was my fault. I tried to apologize, but he stopped listening.”

Again, my aunt nodded as if she had answers.

“Did Clive ever tell you about growing up in Sierra Leone?”

“Of course. About being a child soldier, losing his family.”

“The details?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Alright, I think the war spilled over from Liberia, and soon lines were drawn between rebels and the Sierra Leone government. Clive's family was trapped in the rebel stronghold. His family and other families in their village were sent to the diamond mines. They worked from sun up to sundown, sieving dirt looking for precious stones. One day his mother cut her foot, and when she bent down to investigate, she found an odd-shaped rock.”

My God. I glanced at the ring on my finger.

Auntie paused and took a sip of her coffee. I did the same.

“It turned out to be a huge raw diamond.”

Heart pounding, I asked the next logical question. “What did she do with it?”

“Every found diamond was to be handed over to the commander of the mine. The rebel forces will sell the diamonds, which eventually make their way to Europe, America, Asia, worldwide to adorn the fingers of unsuspecting brides. The proceeds were used to perpetuate the war.”

The ring on my finger felt tighter and tighter.

“Villagers caught with diamonds are punished. The rebels cut off the hands or feet of their victims. Fingers or lips, sliced off. And more often, they are just murdered.”

Now my left hand felt like it had a car parked on it.

“They decided to hand the diamond over to the rebel commander in exchange for their freedom.” Auntie took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. “Instead, the commander shot and killed his father, mother, and little brother. Clive was brainwashed and recruited as a child soldier.”

Tears rolled freely down my face. I finished off the story from what Clive told me. “At some point, he and other child soldiers were rescued and rehabilitated by UNICEF and other NGOs.

Auntie Amaka nodded. “After that, he vowed never to have anything to do with diamonds. Blood diamonds—he called them.”

A painful lump formed on my throat and wouldn’t go away no matter how many times I swallowed. “Did…did he say where he was going?” I asked through tears soaked voice.

“No. But he looked sad. Like a person whose heart was broken.”

I thanked my aunt and left. The administrative offices were closed.

Monday morning, I went back and was told he had taken a leave of absence. Nobody knew where he was. I called his number, and it went to voice mail like the last several times.

I was devastated. But now I knew why the engagement ring thing had upset him so much.

I must make it right, but where can I find him. My phone buzzed—another picture from Nora. As I looked at it, and an idea came to me. I drove back to my one-bedroom apartment and started working on my plan.

I sat on the leather couch in my living room with my laptop on my lap. I Turned the flat-screen TV on with the volume turned off and left my phone on the coffee table next to the couch.

I created a collage with a photo of my left hand with the ring and pictures of Clive and me. Then I wrote the narrative of how Clive and I went from friends to lovers to planning for marriage and how I got a unique engagement ring.

I posted the collage and story on social media, hoping that Clive would come across it. And know that if I wasn’t proud of him, there was no way I would make that public. I didn’t take his love for granted.

I waited, but the outcome was demoralizing. A few views only. No comments or shares, and no response from Clive.

Disappointment and fatigue finally caught up with me. I fell asleep in my living.

+++

I woke with a start. My eyes drifted to the coffee table in my apartment, where a sound like a telegraph machine belting out Morse code in rapid succession had woken me up.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

What the? I reached for my phone, took one look at the screen, and my hand flew to my lips. My post had tens of thousands of views and comments. It had gone viral.

I scrolled through the many missed calls. A few of my friends had called, but the one I expected wasn’t there. Clive hadn’t called. I’d tried my best.

Disappointed but still hopeful, I went to get ready for the day.

I’d just finished dressing up when my doorbell rang. I ignored it, hoping the person would go away. It rang again, followed by persistent knocking.

“Okay, okay!” I walked over to the door and looked through the fisheye lens of the peephole. My heart froze. Clive Rowan steered back at me.

I pulled the door open. My heart was pounding so hard I was scared it would break through my sternum. “You came.”

“I couldn’t keep away…especially after that Instagram story.”

“I’m so sorry. I-”

He placed a finger across my lips. “No, I should be apologizing to you. You said you were sorry so many times. But I was too hurt to see...to listen. I’m so sorry Lisa. Please forgive me.”

I nodded, and as I grappled for what to say, he went down on one knee.

My eyes widened. “Sweetheart…are you alright?” I blurted.

“Yeah. I have to do it, the right way.” He reached into his pocket.

“I still have it.” I raised my left hand with only my ring finger extended.

“Flipping me the bird, are you?” Clive chuckled, nodding his head. “I deserve it.”

“No, no. Your mother's ring. I didn’t throw it away.”

In Clive’s hand was a velvet container.

I shook my head as if erasing a drawing on Etch A Sketch.

“No! I don’t know what you have in that box, but I don’t want it. My aunt told me—what happened to your family. Now I understand how you feel about diamonds. I want nothing to do with blood diamonds.”

He ignored me and opened the velvet box. Inside was the biggest diamond I’d ever seen. It made Nora’s ring look like a welfare case. I continued to shake my head.

“I wanted it to be authentic…something you would proudly wear. I had to wait for it to be ready. It’s a lab-grown diamond. Made, not mined.”

“Lab-grown? Like made in a lab?”

Clive laughed again. “Yes.” He took my hand, kissed it, and said, “Lisa Dike, will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes! With all my heart!”

He slipped the ring into my finger next to his mother’s. I fit perfectly.

+++

Two months later, I walked down the aisle to the tune of Here Comes the Bride by Richard Wagner.

My dad had flown from Texas to New Jersey, without the shotgun, to give me away.

The unity candle lit without any issues at the beginning of the ceremony. And just before the conclusion, when the priest asked if anyone was pissed off enough to throw a wrench into my wheel, I breathed easy. My wedding was in safe hands. Nora hadn’t gotten an invite.

My dad welcomed Clive into our family. We are looking forward to a bundle of joy in nine months.

The End