Letters To My Love

Chapter Two: Memories

Weeks flew by as Uremma and Obinna exchanged letters, each one a piece of their soul, filled with childhood memories and dreams of their future together. They looked back on their early adventures of hunting squirrels and lizards in their school compound, climbing the ube tree during breaks, throwing sticks at the fruits, and even swimming in the small pool that gathered at the gate whenever it rained. They laughed over shared memories of building makeshift rafts from old planks and sailing them in the nearby stream, or pretending to be pirates as they explored the expansive fields behind their houses. They recounted tales of playing hopscotch with stones, flying kites until the sun dipped below the horizon, and sharing secrets in their special hiding place behind Obinna’s family’s barn, a cosy spot surrounded by tall elephant grass where no one could see them.

They recalled the joy of having picnic parties in their schoolyard, where they would pretend to be royalty and serve each other imaginary feasts, and the fun of building giant castles out of clay and sticks, transforming their backyards into magical kingdoms. They also reminisced about the sheer delight of playing tag with their friends, hiding behind trees and laughing until their sides ached, and the fun of organising friendly soccer matches with improvised goalposts.

A particular memory surfaced: long afternoons spent sitting beneath the shade of a sprawling mango tree, their world filled with the sound of birdsong and the gentle rustling of leaves. With eyes closed, they would imagine faraway lands, their minds soaring like the kites they loved to fly. In these tranquil moments, they decided to try crafting their own simple flutes from bamboo stalks after seeing flutes being played at village festivals. The sweet, melodious tunes they produced transported them to realms of wonder and imagination. Their fingers deftly moved over the flutes, filling their little world with a sense of peace and happiness.

They also fondly recalled their inventive games with cans and wires. Fashioning these simple materials into DIY phones, they pretended to have long-distance conversations. Their laughter echoed through the air as they walked far apart, speaking into their improvised devices and pretending to hear each other’s voices.

One vivid memory stood out—the afternoon rain that had enveloped them one day. As the sky darkened and the first gentle drops began to fall, Uremma and Obinna felt an irresistible pull. The rain, at first light and refreshing, soon turned into a steady downpour. They exchanged a mischievous glance, the kind that needed no words, and without hesitation, they pulled off their dresses, leaving them in just their undergarments. With a shared laugh, they dashed out into the open, the cool droplets splashing against their skin.

As they ran through the rain, they felt an exhilarating sense of freedom and joy, the water pooling around their feet as they danced and splashed. Their laughter echoed through the air, mingling with the sound of the rain. It was a moment of innocence and playful abandon, where the world seemed to stand still, leaving only the thrill of the rain and the happiness they shared. Oblivious to everything around them, they were completely lost in the moment, their hearts swelling with pure delight. The rain felt like a refreshing embrace, washing away all their worries and leaving behind only the simplicity of their untroubled childhood.

They vividly remembered the moment their Mathematics teacher caught them, drenched and still laughing. Faces flushed with excitement, they tried to play innocent, pretending that their laughter was merely the result of a mosquito bite. The way they both tried to hide their tears, only to be scolded even more for looking like they were about to cry, became a cherished memory that still made them smile. Even as they stood before their teacher that day, their faces the perfect picture of feigned innocence, the joy of their rainy adventure still twinkled in their eyes, impossible to conceal.

Their letters were filled with more memories: They reminisced about the excitement of attending village festivals with their families and the challenge of solving complex riddles posed by their elders. They shared stories of playing whot and ten-ten, and participating in local wrestling matches and races with other children. They remembered making and flying paper planes, building sandcastles by the riverbank, catching grasshoppers in the tall grass, and the joy of gathering around bonfires to listen to folktales told by their grandmothers. They fondly recalled vibrant market days when colourful Ankara fabrics were displayed, transforming the market into a sea of bright patterns and designs. Watching the skilled tailors turn these fabrics into beautiful outfits was a mesmerising experience that filled them with awe and admiration. They also shared their hopes for what lay ahead, cherishing the bond that grew stronger with each written word. As children, they had often dreamed together—Uremma aspired to become a renowned artist, and Obinna aimed to be a successful engineer. Now, they wrote about how they had achieved those childhood dreams, Uremma with her beautiful paintings celebrated far and wide, and Obinna with his innovative engineering projects making a difference.

Through their letters, they encouraged each other to continue pursuing new heights, envisioning a future where their achievements would continue to intertwine, creating a life filled with love, peace, creativity, and success.

Obinna’s Reply:

My dearest Uremma,

My love, your letter was a breath of fresh air, bringing warmth to my stressful days. Life here is busy, but the thought of you gives me the strength to carry on each day. I wish I could create teleportation technology that would let me be with you every minute, as I miss your touch, your warm embrace, your fresh breath which smells sweetly like blooming roses. Know that you are always in my thoughts, and I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.

Don’t forget to paint a picture of us running naked in the rain one afternoon during break, swimming in the water as it poured. I still laugh remembering how we both tried to play innocent when our Mathematics teacher caught us. Remember how we tried to hide our tears, only for him to scold us even more for looking like we were about to cry over a mosquito bite? Oh, the way we both pretended to be brave, while secretly wiping away tears, was something to behold!

With all my love and a few good chuckles,

Obinna.

Their letters brought their shared past to life with vivid imagery. Uremma often recounted their horseback rides, quiet nights spent watching the stars, catching fireflies that glowed like tiny lanterns in the night, and picturesque road trips. One evening, dressed in a colourful Ankara dress with matching Ankara pumps and a beautiful Ankara handbag beside her, she sat by the beach to write another letter, recalling a particularly special day.

Uremma’s Letter:

Dear Obinna,

Do you remember our first ride on your uncle’s horse? My face glowed with glee in the moonlight as we mounted the white horse. Even when your uncle asked us not to go anywhere, we didn’t listen. We galloped off into the darkness for an evening ride. As we rode, I held your waist tightly, the wind sweeping my hair into a tangle.

I was a little cold, but it felt wonderful after being busy all day. I was exhilarated by the thrill of the speed. As we weaved into the bend, my hands on your waist, a cheek against your back, I felt on top of the world. We halted to rest in a grassy meadow along a bubbling, rushing stream. That day was supposed to be a casual evening ride, but the skies had other plans. We dismounted as soon as it started drizzling and let the horse drink from the cool water. Hand in hand, we walked to a large udara tree on the bank of the stream for shelter. Sitting beneath the branches, we gazed into each other’s eyes. The moonlight created an enchanting atmosphere. It was there, under the canopy of leaves and the rhythm of the raindrops, that you kissed me for the first time.

The magnetic force of our love had drawn our lips together. That kiss, Obinna, is engraved in my memory. It was sweet, unexpected, and perfect in every way. Even now, thinking about it brings a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. Moments like these will always remain rooted in my mind, as I will always want to drink from your sweet kisses for the rest of my life.

Yours forever,

Uremma.

Each letter became a cherished moment of their love story. As they reflected on the past, they also dreamed of a future filled with laughter, love, and shared adventures. They envisioned a life where their hearts remained intertwined, creating new memories together. They imagined sharing Sundays filled with the delicious aroma of jollof rice, fried plantains, and spicy stew wafting through their home, cooking together in the kitchen, playfully stealing tastes from the pot. They saw themselves sitting side by side on the veranda, enjoying the cool evening breeze while savouring their homemade meals.

They pictured themselves playing games, laughing loudly as they competed in Ludo and other board games. They imagined dancing to their favourite Afrobeat songs in the living room, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. They saw themselves taking evening strolls, holding hands, and stopping by roadside suya spots to enjoy spicy meat together, the warmth of the moment filling their hearts. Their letters were not just a reflection of their past but a promise of a future where love, joy, and togetherness would fill their days, creating a life that was as lively and full of love as their cherished Nigerian culture.