SNOWFLAKE

I fell in love with love at a very early age. I wouldn't say I was fully aware of what it was when I first had the feeling, but I recognized it as something strong, strange and addictive, even from the very first moment. It was something my young mind couldn't really understand, but it never stopped me from feeling what I felt, and ever since then, I fell in love every time, anytime, over and over.

I was six when I had my first love. It was love at first sight.

I was attending a wedding with an aunt of mine, aunty Flora. Then the little bride and groom strolled in ahead of the couple during the procession. I took one look at the little groom and all I wanted to do was replace the little bride, take her gown and hold his hand in her stead. He was this cute, bubbly little thing, looking all handsome and like a small man in his smart blue tuxedo. His skin glowed as if it was illuminated from within and his smile was as ravishing as it was charming, so that even to my young and naive mind, it did a lot of things that I did not understand and I felt a lot of things that I had never felt before. He was a child of one of the big men who came from the city to attend the wedding. It was the wedding ceremony of the village chief's daughter, so there were a lot of strangers who had come all the way from the city to be in attendance. There were so many of them, as if an entire city had followed the couples down to the village to celebrate their marriage. It was very obvious that they knew a lot of people. Rich and influential people from the way their wedding guests were dressed and by the cars they rode. The wedding venue was packed full with several expensive cars, we had to squeeze through a garage full of expensive cars to get into the venue. The couple themselves lived in the city, they only brought the wedding down to the village to honor the bride's parents.

I tapped my aunty Flora and pointed at the little groom as he strolled down the aisle, past our pew.

"Aunty, I want to marry him." I said.

Aunty Flora laughed so loud people turned in our direction. She had to stifle her laughter to avert their gazes and attention.

"Regina, what do you know about marriage?" She said still fighting back bouts of laughter.

"When a man and a woman marry." I told her. She laughed aloud again. This time, the woman sitting beside us tapped her a little and she apologized to the woman.

"My niece is cracking me up." She said and went ahead to reveal to the stranger the little secret desire I had just confided in her.

The woman looked at me rather sternly, as if I had done something wrong.

"Come on shut up!" She chided. "Look at this small girl oh. Don't you know you're still a child? What do you know about marriage?" She asked, and I just stared at her confused. Not knowing what my crime was.

"If she says it again, you beat her. Don't spoil that little girl oh." She advised my aunty Flora. Aunty Flora nodded in agreement and I wondered what I had done to deserve a beating.

I sat quietly, watching the wedding service proceed. (Mostly, watching the little groom, that is. He played with so much cheer and light heart that I was sure I was older than him. He looked older, but he acted like younger kids. I wanted to go over and play with them, ask him if he was older or younger than me. But I didn't know how he would react or if that would provoke my aunt Flora to give me that beating she had been advised upon. So, I just sat there, watching from a distance.)

As I watched him, it became more disturbing why I had to receive a beating for liking this boy and wanting to marry him.

If marrying someone you like was a crime, why were we sitting here, watching two people who like themselves get married?

"Why can't I marry him?" I asked my aunty Flora suddenly.

She looked at me in confusion at first.

"You said?" She asked.

"I said, why can't I marry the boy. I like him." I repeated.

My aunty Flora looked at me in surprise for a moment, then she laughed. This time, she made an effort to hide it so that the woman next to us wouldn't notice.

"Because you're still a child. You're too young to marry or even like somebody." She whispered to me.

"So, when can I like somebody?" I asked her. She looked at me thoughtfully.

"Maybe, when you're older. Like, seventeen or eighteen. When you're in highschool maybe." She said.

"Highschool?" I asked.

"Yes. You can start liking someone then. Then by the time you are twenty or more and done with college, you can marry who you like." Aunty Flora explained.

Highschool;

I whispered. I can only wait till highschool. Not college, no. I couldn't wait that long. Not if there were so many more of the likes of this beautiful ring bearer!

I watched my love sadly, as he did his duties. 'Once the wedding ends, he'll be gone. And I would never see him again', I thought in silence.

If only I were in highschool already!

I would wait. Only until highschool, I would wait. I promised myself in the silence.

When you are born and raised in a small village, there isn't much to do, very little to experience and you get all your excitement in 'imagination land', if you're emotionally smart enough to live in your head, that is.

I was raised in a small village, my hometown. The only fun we had was playing in the red mud on cold evenings, swimming at the village stream on hot afternoons or dancing in the rain on stormy days.

Now and then, we had little festivals, traditional marriages and even burials. These events held some excitement too because of the music, the crowds they pulled, the dancing and several artistic performances, and most especially, the free food! Events like these were opportunities for us to eat a full plate of meal with large chunks of meat and a whole bottle of soft drink, alone.

I enjoyed attending these events and having the experiences with my elder sister Uloma, and our friends, but they bored me easily. I always wanted more. Some more excitement. Something that lasted longer and didn't just end after a few hours. Something that went on and on. So, while I enjoyed the fleeting moments, I longed for more.

My favorite time of the year though was in August and December when the city people came back in their masses for the August Meeting and the Christmas holiday. During these times, I went to the village stream more often, attended events with a little more enthusiasm. This was because then, the city people filled these events and I liked to meet the city people. I liked to watch them, imagine their life out there in the city, outside these red soils, away from this routine way of life. There in the city where the numbers of cars surpassed the number of people, so I had heard. They said the city was so busy, you could live at the backyard of your own sister's house and you wouldn't even run into each other for a whole year!

That was the kind of excitement I longed for. The thrill of something new everyday. The possibility of meeting a stranger every now and then, a new face every time. Unlike here in the village where we were stuck with the same old people, no new additions. Instead, one face less every now and then; That is, when a family moves to the city or an old granny dies. One face less.

I had been attending the community primary school all my life, but we had never had a new class mate. Most of my class mates moved to the city almost every year, and we only got to see them during the big holidays. Just another reason why I looked forward to the big holidays. Those classmates who moved away, when they came visiting always appeared to be better than us. Their English language got better, and they spoke to us in English even though they knew most of us could barely understand or speak any English. Their attitudes annoyed me, but I couldn't envy them any less. I gawked at them and drooled over their little accomplishment, fantasying I would one day be like them, knowing fully well, that my chances of ever leaving the village were very slim. Even the cracks in our wall was wider than the chances.

My father was a bike man in the village. He made a living by driving people around on a motorcycle from dusk to dawn everyday. My mum was a house wife. She sold little provisions now and then which barely ever yielded any profit, thus, she couldn't qualify to be called a trader. Both their funds combined could barely feed us, not to talk about buying new clothes or even paying our school fees. One time, we owed school fees for almost two school years. The school principal had to stop my sister and I from attending school. Luckily, some city man was visiting the village during that period. He came for his mother's burial. He asked us why we weren't in school when he saw my sister and I roaming during school hours. When we explained to him, he followed us home, talked to our parents and helped us pay off our debts at school so that we could return back to school. We started owing right after that.

No, we couldn't afford the city. From the stories I had heard, it would be impossible for us to survive in the city.

"School fees for one semester in the city can pay for a whole school year here in the village and you'll get change!." Uju, my best friend and one of the many classmates, who had moved to the city had told me when she came visiting. "Plus, you have to buy a lot of books. For every subject, you have to have a different notebook, textbook and workbook. And we study up to eleven subjects every semester." She said.

I had only one notebook for every semester. I wrote every note in it. Not like I wrote much, as I was mostly out of school than in school. How could I survive with eleven subjects, eleven different books, eleven different textbooks and eleven different workbooks. We would have to starve to afford that.

She also told me that they paid for their homes.

"We pay yearly for our own house. One bedroom, one parlor. We share toilet with other people in the compound." She told me.

"Toilet! You share toilet with everybody?" I asked in amazement.

"Yes." She said.

"Like, how many of you are there?" I asked.

"There are like twenty rooms, and most of the rooms have families of four, five or more." She explained.

"Then you people are up to hundred, and you all share one toilet?" I screamed. I couldn't believe it.

"Because I'm being frank with you? There are people who live in a single room that is not as big as your kitchen, and they share one toilet with even more compounds, but they never tell you. Look at you oh! If you want to live big in the city, you will just starve. It's not all milk and honey there oh. Life is hard too. If you want to live in a better house, you will pay big money that can buy you a land here." Uju seemed a little annoyed and slightly insulted by my reaction.

I couldn't believe her. We didn't have a fancy toilet, no. But we didn't share it with the entire community either. And, how could they pay so much for a house where they did not even have their own toilet? Here in the village, we lived in our grandparents house which dad had inherited when his parents passed away. The house was as old as my grandparents, maybe even their parents before them, all leaky and nearly obsolete. But, we didn't have to pay for it every year and we had two bedrooms.

Uju's testimony slightly marred the big picture I had painted of the city, and I wondered if the city was a bit too glorified. But as Christmas drew nearer and city people began to troop in, Uju's story slowly faded. No, these people could not be sharing one toilet with one million other people. They looked too hallowed to fit into that story. Maybe, the case was only peculiar to Uju and her family because they had not lived in the city for a longer time. If they lived long enough, they'll definitely get their own toilet. I was sure.

"You swim so well."

Someone said in English as I lifted myself out of the water and walked towards the bank where my friends were waiting for me.

It was the Christmas holiday, and the stream was flooded, as it usually was by this time of the year, with people, mostly city people who came to swim or take pictures. As I turned around to see who had talked to me, I knew it was a city person because he spoke in good English, but I didn't expect him to be so heart stopping handsome! He was wearing nothing but thigh hugging shorts and some kind of weird tight cap, the kind city people wore when they went to swim. He was smiling at me and my heart stopped. He had these beautiful long lashes that should be a waste on any man, but on him, it was perfect, and his dimples dipped as he smiled. His skin was so smooth, like a baby's. Like a constantly oiled surface, bright as olive. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Do you swim for sport or just for fun?" He asked still smiling. I couldn't speak English well, but I was better than my mates at understanding it. Yet, at that moment, I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. I heard the words, I knew them well, but I couldn't understand their placement in that context. Why was he asking me about sport and fun and swimming? I was at a loss, so I just said,

"Yes."

"Yes? Like, you swim for your school swimming team?" He asked enthusiastically.

I was lost again. I didn't know what swimming team was, and if he was asking me if my school had one, I knew we didn't. But I didn't know how to put that in English. So, again I simply said

"No."

He looked at me thoughtfully. I think he figured out at that moment that I was hopeless at English.

"Errrrrrr, uhm. You don't understand me." He said apologetically.

"No, I understand." I bluffed. His eyes lit with joy and his smile returned.

"But you don't speak much?" He asked. I shook my head in response. He didn't seem put off by that. His smile broadened even.

"So, you didn't come for the holiday, you live here?" He asked again. I nodded.

"Wow! If you were out there, your skill in these waters would win any school a gold medal!" He smiled. I watched him with keen attention so that I wouldn't miss anything he said. His English sounded very polished, he must have been born and raised in the city or, he must have lived there for a very long time. I smiled in response to his smile.

"I swim for my school team, not the best sport for a boy my age in a school like mine. In my school, If you're not on the basketball team, you're practically invisible and irrelevant. But I love swimming and some highschools and colleges actually appreciate swimming. It's only a matter of time." He said. I wasn't getting every word he said, but listening to his voice was too precious too miss. So I listened on, with an exaggerated understanding smile and momentary nods.

"If we had someone like you on our girls water polo team, we'll be sure to get two gold medals next season. You're pretty good, trust me."

He stopped talking and I realized I was supposed to say something at this point.

"OK." I said, unsure. He laughed out loud then. Not in disdain, frustration or irritation. He actually seemed pleased. I must have said the right thing, I thought.

"Are you sure you understand anything I have been saying?" He asked trying to control his laughter.

"Yes." I nodded. He laughed again.

"It's just cute watching you try to reply correctly." He smiled. I smiled too. He laughed again.

"I'm Jeremy. Jeremiah." He said, holding out his hand.

"I am Regina." I said, taking his hand.

"Regina. Gina." He tried the name as if he were tasting it. "Gina, pleasure to meet you." He said, squeezing my hand gently. It felt so pleasant, I didn't want to let go. And I didn't even realize he was saying my name, the short form. No one had ever called me that. Gina.

Regina was my grandmother's name, my mum's mum that is. My mum named me after her because she thought we shared an uncanny resemblance. I never knew my inherited name could sound so good, until Jeremy, Jeremiah, said it like that.

"So, you're still around Gina? I'll like to talk some more after I've taken a dip." He asked. I nodded and he smiled. "I'll be a minute then." He said and reluctantly let go of my hand, then he went towards the water and did some kind of fancy dip, the kind that city people did, only with more flare and style. I stood there for a moment, forgetting everything as I watched him swim further into the water. He moved with the speed of a fish! He had said he went to a swimming school, maybe that was why he seemed so good as he swam, I reasoned.

"Regina!" I heard my sister Uloma howl at me, and I realized I had been standing fixed to the spot he left me. I turned around and hurried towards them. They were all grinning as I approached them.

"What did he tell you?" Uju asked curiously.

"Who?" I asked.

"Don't pretend. We saw you standing there with the Americana. What did you people talk about?" Uloma said, she too was curious. "You talked for very long, what did you talk about?"

"Americana?" I asked, confused.

"Ehen now. That's Jeremiah, Jeremy as they like to call him now. He is the son of Dede Maduka. You know, the doctor that lives in Baltimore, USA." Uju explained, but seeing that I still looked lost, she continued.

"They live close to that hill if you're going towards Eke Uruala. By St Peters, that big white house. The biggest house in Uruala. Maduka road na. He sponsored the construction of the Uruala to Oriama express."

"Okay!" I squealed. I remembered him. Doctor Paul Maduka. A few years ago, every mouth in the community was full of his praise for his chivalrous act of singlehandedly fixing the express that linked the two main markets in our community.

"I remember him now!" I said. "That's his son?" I asked.

"Yes. Jeremy Maduka." Uju said.

"But I've never seen him before." I said

"That's because he was born and raised in America. This is his first time of coming to Nigeria." My sister Uloma provided.

I fell quiet and processed the information that had just been revealed to me. When I talked to Jeremy as a stranger, the conversation came so naturally and I didn't want it to end. But now that I knew who he was, the son of one of one of the most powerful men in our community, Paul Maduka, that road was named after them! I wasn't sure how I would react to him anymore. I wasn't sure I wanted to continue our conversation from where we left off either.

"So, what did you two talk about for so long?" Uloma asked.

"Nothing, he was just asking me about the water." I said.

"For 100 hours?" Uju asked in disbelief.

"Yes!" I answered disinterested. "Are you people ready to go home? I want to go now." I said, gathering up my clothes.

"Where are you running off to." Uloma asked. "We just got here!"

I looked over my shoulder. Jeremy was emerging out of the water and heading towards shore. I knew I had to get out then before he caught sight of me.

"I think I might have a running stomach... I suddenly feel an ache." I said, gathering the last of my belongings, and without waiting for their response, I dashed towards the road.

"I'll come with you, wait for me!" I heard Uju call after me as I walked away. I didn't look back, I didn't wait. I just kept walking. I heard her racing towards me a few moments later. Even then, I didn't look back. I just wanted to get away before Jeremy noticed.