Always & Forever

Prequel to "My Shola, My Love".

Feb 15, 2025

The buzz on campus right now is so electric that you can feel it pulse through the air like static.

From where we're sitting, we can see the main campus field in the distance, stretched out in all directions.

Tents are being set up, trucks loaded with chairs and tables keep coming and going, and students are moving around everywhere.

They walk in ones and twos and threes, having animated conversations with one another, some groups louder than the rest.

The weather tonight is very cool, and the cold breeze that blows through the trees is a welcome sensation to our skin.

I really like it here, and I'm going to miss it a lot.

There's something about the communal energy of people in a confined space that warms my heart.

I'm stuck between fully embracing the contagious excitement in the atmosphere and being sober in reflection of the deeper implications of tonight.

This beautiful woman beside me, however, does not seem to share either of my conflicting emotions.

She just stares ahead into the darkness, her lips pursed and a frown permanently etched on her face.

"Omolola."

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine."

I allow the moment to pass for a minute, the oddly rhythmic sounds of the trucks blaring in the distance and the wind rustling through the trees filling the space between us.

"Omolola," I try again, nudging her with my elbow. "What is it?"

"Shola. I said there's nothing."

She doesn't meet my eye when she says this, so I know she's lying.

"Don't tell me it's nothing jare."

"I'm fine. I don't know what else you want me to tell you."

"Tell me what's up, because this is not how you act when you're really fine."

She turns her head toward me and deepens her frown. The sight is so cute that I have to resist the urge to smile.

"What does that even mean?"

"Well, you've been silent since we sat here, and it's odd because, well…" I trail off.

"Because I’m a talkative abi?"

I stop resisting the smile.

"No o, that's not what I said," I say, raising my hands in mock defence. "Who am I to make such a conclusion?"

She hisses and tries to increase the space between us on the bench, but I laugh and slowly grab her arm so she can’t move.

That's when I notice the tears in her eyes.

"Haba Omolola, it's just a joke naw. Oya, you’re not a talkative. You just enjoy speaking a lot of words from your mouth all the time; there's no crime in it."

“Just shut up,” she says, trying to inject some menace into her voice, but it falls flat.

"Lola mi," I say softly, stroking her arm. "What is bothering you?"

She takes in a deep breath and releases it loudly.

It's a hollow, constricted sound, almost like she's about to start crying. My chest tightens, and I instinctively move closer to pull her into my arms.

"We're graduating tomorrow, Shola." She finally says as her voice falters.

"Yes, that's true. And…" I reply, encouraging her to continue.

"And? What do you mean, 'and?'"

"We've finished our four years, Lola," I say, trying not to laugh because she genuinely looks confused. "Graduation is usually what comes after."

She rolls her eyes and tries to pull out of my arms, but I hold her in place and immediately intertwine my right hand with hers.

"Oya, no more jokes. I'm listening."

"Shola, just forget it. I-"

"I'm listening to you, Omolola,” I say firmly and my voice comes out harsher than I intended it to. “I'm sorry, take your time."

I stroke her hand that's interlocked with mine.

She sighs deeply and starts to reciprocate the stroking motion on my own hand.

The gesture warms my heart slightly.

"Here, we have structure. Or at least, for the past four years, we had one," she starts, gesturing round at the vast landscape around us. "We go to class, then back to the hall, or attend extra-curricular activities, if any.

We did this day by day and week by week for years. It was routine, and it was safe. It just feels like when we leave and all that structure vanishes, my whole life will be thrown into chaos."

She takes a long pause, and I wait patiently for her to continue.

"I'm so much different from who I was when I first arrived here, and it feels like this place is all I've ever known. I've grown so much here. I found my will to live again here. I've cried, and I've laughed here. I met you here, Shola. I fell in love with you here.

And yes, I know it's 'just school' and the 'phase is over,' and now it's time to face 'real life,' but I don't think I'm ready for it. I thought I would be when the time came, but now that it’s here, I'm not ready at all.

It's like I'm about to leave my safe space behind and step into this big, giant, scary unknown. What if something happens? What if I hate my job? What if..."

The look on her face is conflicted, and I can tell that she's struggling with the thought.

"What if we don't survive real life? Shola, it's easy for us here, in this confined space, to always have time to spend with each other and all that. Out there, it's different. What if… gosh, just forget it…"

When she finishes, I let out a soft laugh.

I love this woman so much.

"I don't know why you’re in such a good mood today," she murmurs and folds her arms in annoyance.

The silence passes as another moment between us.

"I'm scared too," I finally say, my tone solemn. "You're right, it is overwhelming to think of life after uni. And even though the school organised all these workshops and seminars to try to prepare us for how life will be on the outside, I don't think any amount of preparation will ever be enough."

She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder.

"But then, we don't need to have it all figured out, you know? I doubt there's even anybody who has, or that there’s even an exact way to live life. The best we can do is to trust in God and focus on passing each stage as it comes. NYSC next, then finding a good job, like that, like that. We don’t have to worry; we will just figure it out as we go."

"I guess you're right.”

I can still hear the hesitation in her voice.

"We figure it together, as we go," I add, then I turn her head so I can look into her eyes. "'Us' is the last thing you need to worry about, Lola mi. We've already been through a lot together in just a few years. Whatever comes, we’ll face it too and overcome it. Just remember that I'm here for you, and even when you doubt and overthink everything else, never forget that."

She blinks a few times, her eyes glossy, then she looks away and laughs.

"Sometimes I hate the fact that you always know the right things to say."

“It’s part of my job description,” I reply with a shrug.

“I also hate how you make everything sound so simple.”

“Maybe everything is so simple. Maybe we’re the ones overcomplicating everything."

"Yeah, thank you, Professor Ayodele," she says, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Her shoulders finally relax, and I see her loosen up as the tension leaves her body, so I pull her in for a hug, and we stay there for a while.

"I wish our parents could be around tomorrow."

Her words are abrupt, unexpected, and I feel that sting again.

That old, yet very familiar ache that occasionally reminds me that it's still very present in my heart.

That ache that’s bearable on some days and outrightly devastating on some others.

People are right when they say that grief never leaves.

"Me too," I reply, my tone low.

"Ugh, Shola, I hate to always be an overthinking mess of drama and tears and emotions, but it’s just… Every time I hit a milestone like this, I'm painfully reminded that my parents really died in that plane crash. It wasn't a dream."

She's fully crying into my arms now.

I don’t say anything; what is there to say?

I understand how she’s feeling, and I know better than anyone that nothing can be said to make the pain stop or go away.

So I pull her even closer, massaging her neck into my shoulders as she breaks down completely. Her body trembles slightly against mine, and I feel the warmth of her tears soaking through my shirt.

The mood has completely shifted, and now the weight of our shared grief sits between us, heavy and familiar.

Omolola finally breaks the silence with a bitter laugh, shaking her head against my body.

"I can’t even remember what my mum's voice sounds like anymore, Shola. I hate that. I hate that we have to keep moving and they just…” Her voice falters. "They just stay gone. Dead. Just like that."

“I hate it too, my love. I really do.”

After a while, her sobs start to slow down, but she doesn’t pull away.

She stays in my arms, her breathing shaky and her fingers curled into my shirt like she’s too afraid to let go.

I don’t want her to ever let go.

After a long stretch of silence, I rest my chin on top of her head and whisper, "They'd be so proud of you, Omolola. You know that, right?"

I feel her nod slightly.

"Yeah, I know," she breathes. "I do."

I pull her forward slightly, just enough to look at her, to wipe away the tear streaks on her face with my thumb.

"I’m proud of you too.”

She gives me a small, tired smile and rolls her eyes at me. "You always say that, no matter what I do."

"That’s because it’s true. I’m so proud of you and the woman you’re becoming, Omolola. You’re my superwoman, and you’re much more stronger than you think."

She holds my face in her hands for a moment, then she falls back into my arms.

“So you’re saying we’ll be fine, right?" I hear her ask.

I pause for a moment.

I’ll be honest.

I’m not God.

I don’t know if we’ll be fine.

But what I do know, right now, in this moment, is that I love this woman here with all of my heart, and I will do absolutely anything to always be there for her.

To always make sure she’s happy.

"We'll be fine.”

She exhales slowly, as if releasing all the weight she’s been holding in.

Then she leans in, wraps her arms around my waist and presses the side of her face into my chest.

"I love you, Shola," she whispers. "Please, never, ever leave me."

"Lola mi, I’m not going anywhere" I reply, stroking her hair and meaning each word with every ounce of conviction. "I love you and I’m here for you, always and forever."

Chai, God when?

P.S - Yesterday’s story was also fictional, by the way. In case you were wondering.