The Perfect Man Episode 2-Nayna Somto Esione


Episode 2

Hello folks! Really? Nothing sounded whiter. What was wrong with Bryan? We had praticed this scene numerous times. He was supposed to wait for me to introduce him to my parents, he would then hug my mum before shaking my dad and asking how he was in igbo. Thank God it was his right hand that was outstretched. If it was his left, I wouldn't have heard the last of it.

I can't say exactly what got my parent's tongue; the fact Bryan was white or the way he addressed them. They both said nothing. Bryan's arm was still outstretched and my father made no move to reach it. The silence was getting awkward. I signalled to Bryan to drop his hand. People were starting to stare and this time, it wasn't admiration in their eyes. My mum, dressed in our native George dropped to the chairs. She suddenly looked older than her fifty years. Her eyes which were earlier gleaming with energy became milky.

'My daughter has killed me,' she said in igbo

'What did she say' Bryan asked

'She said welcome to Nigeria,' I replied

My father walked out of the arrivals lounge without saying a word. My mum got up and quickly followed her husband. Bryan started after them, carrying our luggage. I was weak, both mentally and emotionally. I should have told them Bryan was white. Nneka, my best friend in Nigeria had convinced me that it wouldn't matter when i called to inform her of my engagement.

'See ehn, this is the twenty first century, it matters no more,' she said, the first time I told her.

'Nneka, I know my parents, they won't agree,' I went on ' especially my dad. He's an igbo man to the core'.

'Sweety, leave matter for mathais, you are very lucky to see an oyibo man that's willing to come to Nigeria and marry you. Pls if he has a brother or best friend, hook me up abeg, naija don tire me' she said.

That was Nneka for you. She always found a way to make important issues seem trivial.

'Bryan's brother is a child o, that one is child abuse over here' I said, laughing.

'As far as he is above eighteen and his thing dey work, nne I no mind, she replied.

I should have asked Nneka to accompany my parents to the airport. She would have hugged Bryan and said something that would have diffused the heated atmosphere. But instead, she had offered to stay at home and cook for us. Apparently, there was a welcome party awaiting us. But with the situation on ground, the party would have to wait.

Bryan's voice jerked me into reality.

'Baby, come on, let's go,' he said, in his sexy husky voice.

It was what had attracted me to him in the first place. He had a way with words. As a journalism major student, it wasn't unexpected. I still remember the first time we met. I had wanted to see professor Thomkins, the Dean of the college of Journalism and communications in the University of Florida. As I got to his office, his receptionist told me he wasn't in and I could wait in the waiting room. Walking in, I saw him. Bryan. He was standing next to a water dispenser, reading a Jacksonville magazine, the rays of sunlight from the window highlighting the dimples in his cheek. He looked up and smiled. A smile that lit up my otherwise gloomy morning. He drew closer, his cologne, as strong as midnight sex.

'Hello, I'm Bryan Adams, Journalism major.'

'Hi, Kamsi Okafor, Public relations Major,' I replied, smiling.

'Nice to meet you Kamsi Okafor,' he said, pronouncing Okafor as Oak-a-four.

I smiled again. There was something about him that made me want to always smile. He walked7 back to his earlier spot, reading his magazine . I observed him closely. His looked like a Ralph Lauren model. His nose perfectly symmetrical, his lips slightly full: the kind that ended in a cute little smirk at the corners. I imagined them on my boobs.

My mother's voice snapped me out of the mini flash back.

'Won't you enter the car,' she asked, her voice high pitched.

We had reached the car. A Toyota sequia 2015 model. I wondered when my father bought it. I reached to open the door. Bryan stopped me.

'Let me get that for you darling,' he said, opening the car door for me.

'Ife eji e deceive nwa m n'obodo oyibo,' my mother went on, 'kedu ife mere gi n'aka,' muttering in igbo.

My mother was pissed. Her sarcasm was best expressed in igbo.

There was nothing wrong with my hands, I could get the door myself. Bryan offered because it was the gentleman thing to do.

As soon as we entered the car, my father spoke up for the first time since Bryan introduced himself.

'Let me say this loud and clear, in English, especially for the foreigner present, no child of mine would marry a white man. Not when I'm alive.'

He then started the car and zoomed off. Bryan turned to look at me. I started to cry.
The Perfect Man Episode 2-Nayna Somto Esione The Perfect Man Episode 2-Nayna Somto Esione Reviewed by De SOUL ENERGIZER on July 06, 2017 Rating: 5

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