After the storm by Osar Adeyemi Page B

size too. How did you know my size?"
    "My
secret." Akeem smiled at her. "I'm happy you like the ring, but we
can always choose another one if you don't."
    Yemi
shook her head. "This is perfect, and it means even more to me
because you picked it for me."
    His eyes
locked on hers. "I'm so glad I can look forward to spending the
rest of my life with you. I love you so much."
    "I love
you too, Akeem."

Chapter
4
     
    Akeem
arranged for Yemi to meet his mum about two weeks later. He picked
Yemi up from her house, and they chatted lightly as he drove
towards Ikoyi, the highbrow area on the Island where his mother
lived.
    Yemi was
a little nervous. She had changed her outfit three times before she
finally decided on a dress to wear. But despite her nervousness,
she was looking forward to meeting the mother of the man who meant
the world to her, and it would certainly be nice to have two
mothers.
    She
could hardly wait to get married to Akeem and it was a pity that
they would have to wait for a year before they could. Her father
had insisted that she complete her youth service, which was the
mandatory one-year programme every newly qualified graduate in
Nigeria had to render to the nation. She knew her parents felt that
she was still a bit too young to be getting married and were using
the one year programme as an excuse to delay it.
    "We're
almost there," Akeem said some time later, turning into the street
where his parents' home was located. Yemi looked at the large,
detached, gated properties along the street; each of them appeared
to be vying for a best architectural design award. A few minutes
later, Akeem drove through the massive wrought-iron gates of his
family home and raised his hand in acknowledgement of the security
men at their post. Yemi glanced at the lush, well-tended lawns as
he drove further in. Everything looked stately, from the tall palms
that lined both sides of the driveway and the beautiful flower beds
that dotted the large grounds to the lovely fountain in front of
the house.
    A
uniformed maid opened the door for them. She greeted them and then
led them to the sitting room. She spoke to Akeem in Hausa before
leaving the room. 
    "She
said my mum would be here shortly," Akeem explained to Yemi, and
she nodded. She had started trying to learn Akeem's language but
knew she still had a long way to go. "What would you like to
drink?" he asked.
    Yemi
gave him a small smile, trying to still the nervousness rising
within her. "Thanks, but I'm okay for now."
    He
squeezed her shoulder lightly. "I'll take you around the house
later. I'm sure you'd like to see my old room."
    "Of
course."
    He
reached for the remote control and switched on the TV. She glanced
around the sitting room, taking in the elegant settees and the
beautiful Persian rugs that adorned the gleaming marble floors. The
drapes that hung from the ceiling-to-floor windows were rich
in colour and texture and added to the general opulence of the
room.
    Through
the arched doorway, Yemi could see another open space that looked
like a slightly lower floor from where they were seated. It seemed
to be another sitting room with different-coloured settees placed
strategically. She could also see a massive spiral stairway leading
upstairs. Everything she looked at oozed class and
elegance.
    She
thought about her own father's sitting room back in Akoka and the
comfortable but worn sofas. There was always bound to be something
out of order no matter how much Bose tried to tidy up. This sitting
room, on the other hand, looked like it was brand new, everything
so orderly that she felt uncomfortable. She suddenly felt a little
homesick and longed for the familiar comfort of her
home.
    Just
then, Akeem's mother came into the room. Yemi had seen pictures of
her, but she appeared taller in person. She was dressed simply in a
floor-skimming kaftan made of some wispy, butter-coloured, lace
fabric. The simplicity of the outfit emphasized her beauty, but it
was her eyes that