Promise Beyond Life

The wind howled through the streets that Friday night, carrying with it the scent of damp earth. The sky was overcast, and a quiet chill settled over the neighbourhood. I had been looking forward to this weekend for weeks. Tolulope, my fiancée, was coming over. She had just completed her National Youth Service Corps and wanted to spend a few days relaxing in my arms.

“What’s a better way to rest than to be with my munchkin after serving Nigeria for a whole year?” she had teased over the phone. Her voice rang with that familiar playfulness that always made me smile.

She had nicknamed me Munchkin after her favourite snack. It was a ridiculous name, but it was ours, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Wanting everything to be perfect for her, I had spent the entire day tidying up my apartment. I even prepared her favourite meal, jollof rice with grilled croaker fish. By the time I finished, I had my shower, put on a comfortable t-shirt and had barely gone down the stairs when I heard the doorbell ring.

Excited, I rushed to the door. And there she was. Tolu, my Tolu!!!

I pulled her into a tight embrace, inhaling the faint scent of her perfume. She felt cold, almost fragile, and there was a tiredness in her eyes that I couldn’t quite place.

“I told you I’d come see you today, no matter what. I’ve fulfilled my promise,” she whispered, her voice carrying a strange sadness.

Something in her tone unsettled me, but I brushed it aside, deciding to ask her about it after dinner. Instead, I cupped her face gently and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Yes, babe. I’m so happy you’re here.”

I ushered her inside and sent her upstairs to freshen up while I dished out her food. Turning on the TV, I flipped through the channels absentmindedly until a breaking news report caught my attention.

An accident. A fuel tanker had lost its brakes and plowed into a bus carrying twenty-three passengers. No survivors!!!

The footage on the screen was gruesome. The road was littered with wreckage and lifeless bodies. My stomach churned at the sight, but it wasn’t until the camera showed a particular victim that my breath caught in my throat.

A young woman. She was clad in a yellow top, which was now bloodied, and ripped jeans. She lay motionless among the wreckage. Her feet were twisted unnaturally, her hands crushed beyond recognition. But her top looked strangely familiar.

I knew that top.

I knew those jeans.

At that moment, the camera zoomed in on the face. I knew that face.

Tolu!!!

My heart slammed against my chest. My vision blurred. My hands trembled as I struggled to make sense of what I was seeing.

No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be real.

I stumbled to my feet, my mind screaming for answers. My heavy legs carried me up the stairs in frantic desperation, my breath ragged and shallow. I threw open the door to my bedroom…

Empty!

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, but there was no sound of running water. No sign of her presence. Nothing.

Then, like a crashing wave, her parting words came rushing back, this time sinking into my soul like ice.

“I told you I’d come see you today, no matter what. I’ve fulfilled my promise.”

A sob tore from my throat, and I collapsed to the floor, clutching my chest as the weight of realization crushed me.

Tolu was gone.

She had been gone before she ever knocked on my door.

And yet, she had kept her promise.

JaneFrances Udeh,
StoryCraft Expert, Author Coaching by BAC