In a small village in Enugu State, my world was that of innocence and bliss. My dad was a diligent farmer and mom sold vegetables in the market. I spent every afternoon playing with her by vending okra and tomatoes in the afternoon after school. I also enjoyed to teach children the lessons from the trees of the street mango. I wanted to be a teacher one day, although I realized it was not going to be a walk in the park.
I did not think that in just one day in Lagos I could change my life, for the better. My cousin asked me to spend the holidays with her, and while I was happy, idb pinned me with fear too. Lagos was nothing like my quiet village. That is, all the noise, the throng, the frenetic speed were unbearable.
At a wedding during my visit, I met Sam. He succeeded in capturing my attention not from his looks but from the inherent goodness and the kindness that seems to be always hanging onto him. I was helping an elderly woman to carry her shopping to her dining table when he (struck by being caught) came over to me, flustered, with a blushing smile.
“Hi, I’m Sam,” he said, almost nervously.
“I’m Ada,” I replied with a smile.
We started talking, and before long, it felt like we had known each other for years. He explained to me what, from his perspective, is his position on technology and what he is thinking as a technologist around technology to better humankind. I confessed that I previously aspired to teach and improve my village.
We kept in touch even after I returned home. Sam visited my village a few months later, and I was touched by how willing he was to embrace my world. He helped my father with field labour, he got drinks with the old man using orange wine and (with) us under the mango tree, where I teach the brothers, the children the art of vocabulary.My family began to see him as one of us.
So, the next time I went back to Lagos, I seized every opportunity to become familiar with city life. His sister Kendra was also kind to me, showing me how to use the new appliances and how to deal with the crowd. It wasn't without difficulty, but I felt I needed to walk in his shoes as much as he had into mine.
Two years later, while standing under the same mango tree in my village, Sam got down on bended knee and proposed. It was simple but heartfelt, just like him. Tears filled my eyes as I said yes.
Our wedding was a beautiful blend of cultures. For my roots we took part in a traditional Igbo ceremony, and in Lagos we had a church wedding for his background. It was a dream realized to be with both families all at once for the party.
We've now constructed a life that embodies the best aspects of both of our worlds. I ended up both teaching and managing a village school and Sam set up a village tech centre just to open up opportunities there. We've been challenged, but our love and faith in one another led us again and again.
Back there, I also can't help, but also think about how crazy must our story have seemed to anyone else. When" God puts pen on paper for writing book of your life, it is always going to be a beauty, no matter where it begin to publish," I keep telling Sam.
