I have listened to so many sermons on “the will of God, the will of man, the faultless will, the divine will” bla, bla bla!!!  And how we need to allow the will either of man or God to prevail. I think I’m fed up of hearing this will-will talk; I ask whatever happened to our sensibility and our exquisitely given instinct?

Allow me to put it this way, couldn’t we make our own decisions without making our neighbour see us as one pious figure who solely depended on the celestial intervention only for us to go on to please ourselves, following our eyes and corrupt mind. Consider the following scenario:

Question: - How do you hope to make this possible?

Answer: - By the special grace of God.

Question: - And how long do you think it will take?

Answer: - No matter how long; I hope to wait for the will of God.

This is close to the kind of conversation you pick up on the streets daily. There is hardly any phase without ‘God’ in it. But you and I know that most a time it really doesn’t follow; there is more of us in it than God.

I could easily pass for one of those who kept my face and figure focused on that divine will, believing that I couldn’t take any decision without first going to ask for the will of God even though I was going to follow my own will thereafter.

And when it came to the issue of wifey I knew I was going to go for what I really wanted; the face and figure. I wasn’t ready to compromise and even if it was going to delay for a decade. I really hunted a lady who could pass for an epitome of gorgeousness and splendor having the characteristic of a complete virtuous woman; a mother in her true personality without any question of trepidation or deception.

The search began. I was through with my first and second degree abroad. I made up my mind to come back home before venturing on that lifetime project of children and wifey; I was ready to start taking up responsibilities; one of which was looking for the mother of my yet unborn godly children. At first I thought I had all the time on earth until it was known to me that I wasn’t getting any younger. I was so frightened when I saw a strand of grey hair on my head and mustache. I was gripped in fear. I quickly rushed down to the salon not knowing what to do, whether to dye my hear or cut it.

I knew I needed to hurriedly work on my plans fast; there was no more time to waste. It was that moment to search and select the existing and preference that may not necessarily be God’s. The pressure was building and I needed to start sampling with my mind not minding the background. I went everywhere and asked all my pals where exactly I could go in search of a godly, ogeciously-sweet looking iyawo; an ideal wife. I was told to go everywhere including the legendary white house, a popular house in Lagos. I went, saw, and ran for my life; I obviously couldn’t find anything white about the place aside the plastic chairs and tables. No! This wasn’t the appropriate place to find a wife. Certainly not. (I decline to say what I saw but it was nauseating and sickening).

In one of my serious searches, I went looking in the molue bus; another popular yellow painted commercial 911 bus where you meet with all manner of creatures and humans. That I didn’t mind since I was interested in meeting a real lady, having at the back of my mentality that I will have to take out time and my hard earned money to polish her.

I tried anonymous calls, went on the internet, looked through books and magazines in search but I was not satisfied with the feed backs. I was looking for some sort of serenity. I felt that once that has been founded then I could say that it was God’s will.

After so much search and inquiries I was disposed to just give up and going for any one that came my way with out being perplexed and nursing doubt. Then a miracle!

I got a phone call from one of my very old friends say nineteen years ago; one whom I never thought could look in my direction again owing to the way I strained her friendship and our union. I knew that I deliberately disconnected her from my life. I was so shocked and stunned when I saw her. She sounded very pleasant and loving, her tone and intonation could pass for an English-literature tutor; the phraseology and grammar were so impeccable and accurate.

She introduced herself as Thelma Pride, my childhood friend. I couldn’t help it. For a few seconds I was wondering if I had amnesia or maybe someone was trying to play a fast one on me. I had never imagined that Thelma could come my way again. Her reception and approach left me wondering and questioning if it was a case of impersonation else I wouldn’t have answered the call because I was feeling very remorseful.

While I was yet wondering how she got my number, she explained how she had ran into one of my cousin’s in the supermarket when she went shopping; t

Thanks to my cousin this may be an occasion to reconcile our wrangles. I considered, but it was soon going to be beyond that.

Immediately, I stored her number on my phone and also duplicated the backup in two different libraries. The next thing for me was to carefully begin strategizing and planning to meet with her. It was so patent and evident that I had completely lost the picture of her looks; instantaneously my fretfulness grew and grew everyday. I literary lived and was daily tormented by her voice; I would play back our telephone conversation in my mind every hour. It hunted me so badly and I was dying to meet her by all means possible even if it was going to be a mission impossible.

Interestingly, I was in a hunt for a woman; someone who will be my wife. I was gravely longing to know if she could be available and unhooked; I was becoming desperate with every passing minute.

My first plan was to give deep thought on what I was going to tell her when I call her. Meanwhile, I had gone to embark on a meticulous exploration and sampling of the finest eatery; somewhere that will accommodate high standards and friendly with my pocket. Before I could build up courage to call her, I had made that same call in my mind a million times over. A day before I was to make the long awaiting call, I kept vigil meditating. At a point I really couldn’t understand what was going on with me. I felt I was going insane and in a flight of reckless imagination.

Few seconds before I made the call, I became all nerves but couldn’t understand why. As the phone rang, my blood pressure climbed. I was beginning to wonder how she would react when found out I was the one calling. It rang four times and at each time I became doubtful of my identity.

Our conversation:-

Me:- Hello, my name is Samuel. Can I be on to Thelma?

     Thelma: - Yes! You are speaking with her (at this point, there was a three-minute silence.  She had a sweet and foreign intonation. )

Me:- I…..i just wanted to say hellowwww. I wanted…I wanted to say hi and also thank you for calling after a long time. I lost your contact and I have been looking forward to seeing you someday. My cousin and I discussed you couple of days ago. (Not true).

Thelma: - Really? Well I was outside the shores of Lagos.

(I wasn’t too sure if she said she went abroad, say somewhere like UK or USA. I had already concluded that she traveled out and that was enough for me to respect her although I was also carried away by remorse)

Me:- It’s been over a decade and I was hoping that we could get to meet, some thing like a reunion, (it took so much strength for me to cough that out. But I was glad I said it. I must confess that it wasn’t easy to compose what to say to a lady you had dumped some time in the past; it was initially tough for me simply because we had a fall-out, and I didn’t know what her response would be.) When will it be convenient for you?

Thelma: - Sorry Sam, I’ll not be able to give you a definite response right now but you will have to give me some time to work out something.

Me:- Okay, but will you mind if I call you next week? (I was so disappointed that I felt she has paid me back in my coin).

Thelma: - No, that’s okay Sam. I’ll talk to you some other time.

   End of tory…

I was supposed to get upset, right? But I wasn’t because her tone was not unfriendly though I would have preferred a longer conversation; even though I didn’t get It, at least I got a promising ending.

Though I had never seen her, I was too sure that she was going to pass for a good wife. I was not disappointed at all the way she received me over the phone, I kept asking if she was God’s will, maybe she is, maybe not, but I was optimistic. I felt peace.

Falling in love has been a difficult thing for me but I was ready to throw away that habit. I was a bit comfortable with this one; I was really looking forward to meeting her. Interestingly I have begun to spread the news all over town that I have seen one called beautiful.