Long Hugs and Sliding Doors

There is an interesting thing about human movement at airports if you observe it closely enough. It’s the way the goodbye hugs and parting tears blend nicely into the loud screams that accompany the sighting of a loved one at the arrival lounge. It unrolls like a beautiful collage of emotions -picturesque even -the way you could be battling with mixed emotions as the person you care about leaves your arms for the check-in counter at one end, while at the other end someone is beaming with delight as the person, they are fond of jumps into their arms once again. In many ways, it captures how life is, among other things, a sliding door.

I like to think that I always put in a decent effort when it comes to friendships and romantic relationships. I’m not perfect by a long shot, and in the end, things don’t always work out like I would have liked (for whatever reason), but I usually prefer to focus on the golden moments that I can file away in my memory bank, and I try my best not to burn bridges.

Seven years ago, I was fresh out of NYSC, earning my bread as a young litigation lawyer in Asaba when I bumped into a dark-skinned lady one day in the courtroom. Our eyes locked for a brief moment and I spotted a shy smile. I was too busy filing documents at the registry, so I couldn’t strike up a conversation, but I knew I wanted to see her again…

…And I did. Three weeks later, her boss was having a meeting with my boss at our office, and for some reason, he brought her along. The meeting probably lasted for an hour and a half, but there was a small window where she stepped out for some air, and when I asked if we could exchange numbers, she kept smiling almost to the point of distraction.

I soon learned that her name was Ugochi, she was seeing out her service year at a law firm that was paying her only N10,000, that she loved listening to Wizkid…and that I would have to wait in line if I wanted anything concrete with her, as she was already seeing someone else.

“I love my guy, it’s a serious thing”, she said in the middle of a WhatsApp conversation one evening.

“I’m not trying to steal anyone from their lover or derail anything, but I think I like you, simple”, I replied

“Alright then. We’ll see how it goes.”

Things actually happened fast. The calls intensified, Ugochi spent her birthday with me while ignoring her boyfriend’s calls (she would break up with him the following weekend), I started tagging her along whenever I went for Thirsty Thursdays with my friends, and when she muttered “I love you” on a windy Friday night, my first response was “how long have you been waiting to say this? It’s been in your eyes for a while.”

But things soon went downhill. I quit my job, having become fed up with the toxic work environment while struggling to manage a N30,000 salary, and the new situation had a major impact on my moods. I found myself unable to process phone conversations, I was evasive whenever Ugochi suggested that we hang out, and by the time I relocated to Lagos in search of better opportunities, communication was at an all-time low. I was indifferent when my friends told me that they had been seeing her in choice places with some new guy, and when she stopped picking up my calls, I just shrugged and focused on navigating life in a new city.

Could I have handled things differently? Yes. I guess I was too self-absorbed to have the necessary conversations, but I felt she was too quick to move on as well. Unfortunately, there is no CTRL + Z for these things; time machines don’t exist, and I can’t undo the past, even though I wish we had proper closure.

Three months ago, I was heading out of a health care centre in Surulere after receiving my second dose of the COVID vaccine, when I spotted a vaguely familiar figure on the other side of the road. I took a closer look, and the dimples on her face were impossible to miss. Dressed in all-black, her skin had become half a shade lighter, but it was Ugochi, unmistakably.

“J, you’re looking really good.”

I was wearing a tight-fitting suit, so I looked fairly presentable. The hug was probably a minute long. She was wearing a nice perfume, too.

“It’s been a minute.”

After exchanging pleasantries, she mentioned that she was heading to court to represent her client in a divorce proceeding. She seemed to be in a hurry, but I managed to gather that her apartment was just one bus trip away from mine.

“We should catch up, J. Give me a call.”

She stretched out her business card, hugged me again and clutched her handbag tighter while heading in the direction of a cab. I had taken a quick look at her left hand and noticed that there was no ring. I took a deep breath, brought out my phone and began to punch away as I looked at the business card.