Letters To My Love

Chapter Two: Night’s Morning Reflections

The sun was climbing up the sky, casting a warm golden glow through her bedroom window. Night, wrapped in a soft white cotton dress, walked over to the window, pulled it open, and inhaled the crisp morning air. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of the rich, earthy aroma from her neighbour’s garden, filling her senses with tranquility. Birdsongs filled the air, and she leaned out to watch the birds fluttering from branch to branch, their cheerful chirping making her heart feel light and happy. She felt like one of those birds—free, beautiful, and joyous. This happiness stemmed from her love for Richie, a love that made her feel complete.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered to herself, ‘I’m in love with Richie, just as much as he is in love with me,’ and a tender smile spread across her face.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a WhatsApp notification. Curious, she picked up her phone and her smile widened when she saw it was from Richie. The message read: ‘Thank you so much for your love…’

Settling at her desk, she picked up her blue pen and her diary, the one where she poured out her deepest thoughts and feelings. With a heart full of emotion, she began to write.

Night’s Letter:

Dear Richie,

My Lord, what more can I say when you have given me your love unconditionally? You made me realise what falling in love is all about. Yes, I write a series of love stories, but for the first time, I must say that I am experiencing what loving someone deeply is all about. You have always been sincere with me from day one. Your honesty draws me closer to you each moment and makes me only think about our future together.

She paused for a moment, reflecting on their journey together, and then continued writing with a renewed sense of purpose. For the first time in life, Night felt she was pouring out her soul to someone who understood what she was trying to say.

After finishing her letter, she carefully took a photo of it and sent it to Richie. As she waited for his response, she returned to the window, gazing out at the lively scene before her. The bustling activity of the village where she lived with her parents and siblings drifted in through the window: aromas of delicious foods being cooked on firewood or gas stove filled the air, women selling akamu and sugar from white plastic buckets balanced on their heads or carried in their hands, calling out to the local residents. Their voices mingled with the chatter of people walking by on the dusty, sandy, typical village road of Nigeria, the sound of bikes zipping past, and the occasional honk of cars as they navigated the narrow street, giving way to children playing freely. Some were playing football, some playing hide and seek, and some skipping. The clink of bottles and cans from Hausa recyclers shouting ayan kundin in their distinct accent, meaning iron condemn, filled the air. The recyclers pushed wheelbarrows filled with plastics and scraps, their voices echoing through the streets. The Hausa accent, with its unique intonations and melody, made the call sound rhythmic and almost musical. Once people heard ayan kundin, they rushed out to meet the recyclers, eager to sell their items after negotiating prices.

In front of the compound stood a mango tree, its leaves rustling softly, while beside it, a coconut tree added to the lush greenery. Men, professionals in cutting palm fruits, worked skillfully with ropes tied around their waists to maintain balance as they brought down the ripe fruits in nearby farms. Nearby, a palm wine tapper, dressed in patched shorts and a worn-out shirt, was expertly climbing a tall palm tree. With practiced ease, he used a long, curved knife to tap into the tree’s trunk, carefully positioning a container to catch the sap. His hands were roughened by years of work, and his attire, though tattered, was suited for the labourious task. The air was filled with the rich, aromatic blend of palm wine, mingling with the earthy scent of the village. Women tended to the nearby farms, harvesting crops or weeding, and the area was dotted with clotheslines where residents washed and spread their clothes to dry. Night’s house, an L-shaped tenant house with four apartments owned by a retired police officer, was nestled among this vibrant community. The laughter of neighbourhood kids, the occasional barking of dogs, the crowing of roosters, and the fluttering of birds created a lively melody. Women with wheelbarrows full of cooked food or moi moi moved through the streets, offering their dishes to eager customers who hadn’t had the chance to prepare anything for their children yet. The air was filled with the rich, aromatic blend of street food, home-cooked meals, and the simple joy of daily village life.

Night enjoyed the lively scene unfolding before her, feeling a deep sense of connection to her surroundings. Yet, it was the thought of Richie that truly brightened her heart. The love they shared added an extra layer of happiness to every moment, making the bustling village scene even more radiant and joyful for her. As she imagined Richie’s warm response, her smile widened, and her heart swelled with more love for him.

Richie’s Reply:

Dear Night,

Best, I just wanted to take a moment to express the depth of my sincerity towards you. From the moment we exchanged our words, I knew that you were someone special, and every word we’ve shared since then has only reinforced that belief.

You bring so much joy and light into my life, and I am constantly in awe of your kindness, intelligence, and beauty. Your smile is the sunshine that brightens up my day, and your laughter is the music that fills my heart with happiness.

I promise to always be honest and transparent with you, to listen to you, support you, and make you feel loved and cherished every day. I vow to be your rock, your confidant, and your partner in every sense of the word.

I love you more than words can express, and I can’t wait to spend forever making memories with you.

Yours only,

Richie.

Night read Richie’s message over and over, her heart swelling with joy. His words were like a balm to her soul, reaffirming everything she felt about their relationship. She could imagine him sitting at his desk in Akwa Ibom State, composing his reply with the same care and affection she put into hers. She wondered what song he would be heading to the studio to produce next. Richie was a remarkably talented songwriter and singer, and Night felt a deep sense of pride in his achievements. She was so glad to have met him, and he was so glad to have met her too.