2015 was the year, the year you plan on getting married. Lola is a lovely girl, you both will be perfect together.
“James, it’s done” your husky voice booming into the receivers ear.
You sit at the dresser hoping they have not heard you are back into the country, its been ten years you left the country to run from your kins men.
Jide had told you the night before your last paper in Ojere, “just don’t come back into the country”.
Standing at the alter, side by side with Lola, you hear from somewhere in the congregation as a phone rings with the theme “Reggae Blues” you turn to see Jide smelling at you. In that moment you remember the names of those you have shot! in similar way.