The wave raced to the beach with its mighty bubbling foam. She was waist deep into the water. But it frightened her not, not like the last thing time. The memory came again, of this same place, of someone . she fought it and concentrated on the wave. Something about it seemed purifying. She waited as the wave leaped and crashed over her and receded. She was wet and tasted the salt in her tongue, more from the sea than her tears as she swam back to the sandy part of the beach, her Ankara bikini molded to her body.
She felt the stares and the catcalls, she didn’t care in the least. She stopped caring. For a long time. It was Saturday and the beach was rowdy . She wished she had many days more, she would have come on a week day. She needed less noise, people.
Slowly, she cat walked toward the wooden relaxation spots where her friend sat with her duffel bag. She retrieved a smaller bag from the bag and retreated back to the beach to pick shells.
The shells she picked were tiny, of different colours and shapes with pin size holes in them. She walked on , bending and picking, pass a little boy and his sister making sand castles with their brightly coloured plastic containers and miniature shovels. The girl looked up and smiled at her. She smiled back and offered them some shells and cowries. She watched as the gleefully ran to the wooden building, to show their mum, who smiled and waved at her. She waved back and continued.
She saw a man reach to the wet sand and pick something. She looked away, another shell lover or painter maybe. She sighed and faced the sea. A huge wave rolled toward the shore. Some of the swimmers waddled out of the water to the beach, laughing and saying something about drowning. She took out her phone and took a shot of the wave. It was a good one. She carefully placed it in the a small purse inside the small bag she carried.
A horse rider approached her and asked if she wanted a ride. She shook her head and moved away from him. The last time she was here, she had witnessed how callous they can be. She fought the memory again. He followed her, trying to persuade her.
“ She say she no want, na by force,” a voice bellowed, behind the horse.
“ See me see wahala oo”, she agreed, spreading her hands.
The owner of the voice was the man she had seen earlier. She recognized him from the yellow basket ball top he wore.
“ Senior man, na the fun be that nah. How person go come beach, im no go ride horse, you check am”, the horse rider argued.
She humph.
“ My friend shift jor”, he snorted and the rider backed away, murmuring something in Yoruba. She asked what he said, he interpreted and they both laughed. They shook hands as he introduced himself . She smiled as he walked with her.
“ So, are you trying to get my attention as he said?” she asked, referring to what the horse rider said. He laughed .
“ It’s true then. He was right”, she smiled.
“Maybe. I noticed you in the water. You looked great standing there but for a minute I was afraid ”.
“Why…”, she shook her head.
“ You looked quite... I can’t find a word for it.”
Silence.
They walked together along the shoreline, pass the wooden relaxation centers. The music was blaring from the speakers in one on the centers. A party. They seemed to be having fun. They walked on ,to the other side of the beach, pass the rocky place. He broke the silence. Asked her about herself. She made a joke, they laughed. To a passerby, they looked a picture of lovers.
“ I’d like to say something ”,
“ Me too”, she replied.
They laughed
“ I….” , he began but she interrupted him with a wave.
They stopped and looked at each other.
“.. I know, I know it’s rude but I don’t like beating around the bush.”
He nodded expectantly.
“ I might be wrong but I feel you might be interested in me”, she continued.
He nodded again.
“ … And you would probably ask me out on a date or something, which would be nice. But just to let you know, my heart craves for just one man,” she swallowed and paused , “ until it stops I can’t take on another, I hope you understand. ”
He heaved and nodded and they parted. Him, back to the wooden buildings where the group partied. She kept walking.
© 
