It was a rule in my family to never walk away when reprimanded by the parents.
I sat on one of the armchairs in our sitting room, pulled my legs to my chest and curled my hands around my knees. I wished the ground would open up so I could hide until my parents stopped talking. My siblings had vanished to their rooms.
"If I'd been told by a stranger that you would date that boy, I would argue vehemently that it's impossible. My daughter would do no such thing!" My Dad's voice rose higher with each word he uttered.
My Mom sat beside him, giving me the side-eye while I simply stared at the muted TV and let the moving images distract me.
"Dad, I'm not a child anymore. I don't understand why you are riled by this situation. I didn't say I will marry him, did I?"
"Are you asking me questions now?"
I quickly shut my mouth and gazed at my toes.
I was twenty and an undergraduate at the university. I met a good-looking, tall man in the social sciences department and immediately liked him. The feeling was mutual. He asked me out and I agreed.
Our relationship spanned over four months when I thought it was time to introduce him to my family. He had introduced me to his over a month ago and they were always happy to see me.
My boyfriend's visit to my house did not go so well when I said, "Dad, Mom, meet my friend Ibrahim Danjuma. He's a student too and majors in estate management."
My parents froze for a long moment. It was obvious they were not ready to accept 'my friend'. He was a Moslem and I was a Christian.
It turned out to be an awkward visit and after Ibrahim left, I faced my parents' wrath.
"But our religious dissimilarities shouldn't matter nor come between us," I argued further.
"You are an adult and I trusted you to make good decisions, one of which should be not to date someone from another religion!"
My Dad's agitation made me a little scared. So I stopped talking so as not to aggravate him further.
I retreated to my room thereafter feeling gloomy. I really liked Ibrahim because he made me laugh and saw me like no other person had. Our feelings were mutual and neither of us cared whether or not we were of the same religion.
Then my Mom opened my door and walked into my room. I stood up, wondering if it was time for the mother-daughter conversation. We usually had those whenever our Dad was done talking to us girls. I was emotionally tired and didn't think I could bear more when my Mom pointed to the water globe on my reading desk.
Ibrahim loved to buy me gifts. On my birthday, he gave me a water globe because I had told him that I would love to own an aquarium someday. This water globe was like a mini fish bowl with a fish that danced anytime I shook the globe. I loved it.
"Did he give you that?" Mom asked. There was no point lying. I nodded.
"You must return it and any other gifts he gave you. Your Dad is not happy about this. If your elder sister had behaved this way, he wouldn't be surprised. But we did not expect this from you."
This speech further broke me down and I promised to return the gifts my boyfriend gave me.
The following day when I took a small box to school and handed it to Ibrahim in his lecture hall, he couldn't believe his eyes. He pushed the box aside and begged me not to end our relationship because of parental pressure. I told him I had to do right by my parents.
Sadness was deeply etched on his beautiful features as he looked inside the box. "Even your water globe? Why, Kemi?"
I had no answer to his question. I turned and walked out of his lecture hall, dejected.
If there was one object I desperately wanted as a keepsake among Ibrahim's gifts to me, it was the water globe.
Every time I saw a water globe or snow globe, I remembered a young love that never budded.
