Just a moment ago, as I was going to get barbecue chicken and drinks for the night, I saw an elderly woman crying uncontrollably while seated on a long empty bench. I halted and questioned her on the issue.
I have a husband at home who is 22 years old, she said. Every morning he strokes my back before getting up and making me akara, pap, fresh mango juice, and freshly tapped palm wine
So then, why are you sobbing, I said.
He cooks my favorite okra soup and correct roasted plantain with dried fish, cleans the house, and spends the rest of the day with me watching tales by moonlight series on TV, she said.
Why are you sobbing, I queried.
After dinner, we snuggle and he prepares me goat meat, hot pepper soup.
'Well then, why in the world would you be crying?' I inquired
She replied, 'I can't remember where I live.'
Wow ❗ You mean, you remember all that he does and how does them but can't remember where you live? I said to the old woman.
She continued sobbing and spoke in some strange language I could not understand. You know, at that point I started thinking if I had done something wrong to her. While I was still thinking of what to do to make her stop crying, she said (still crying though).
"You didn't ask me where I met him?"
With my eyes popping from my skull, I started thinking that this woman is old enough to know where he lives but I couldn't place it. Could she be suffering from dementia? To let a sleeping dog lie, I asked him:
"How did you meet this twenty-two-year-old husband of yours?"
From nowhere, an old man appeared and spoke with a loud voice.
"She dreams of sweet things all the time."
"Perhaps, she just told you one of her many dreams."
Now I know all that has been going on is nothing but the old man's creative imagination. He feels like being young again. I couldn't help but laugh as the two old folks walked away, holding hands together as they disappeared into the street.