Life Story: Karma Is Real And So Is Love

I met Bentum in the university, GIMPA to be precise. Our connection was instant. He studied banking and finance while I studied business administration. The day we met, I was attending a borrowed class from his department. I was late and the class was full so I stood at the back of the classroom. Within a few minutes of standing there, I felt a tap on my shoulder, it was Bentum. “You can have my seat,” he said.

We became inseparable from there. He became my best friend, and eventually my boyfriend. When we weren’t at our respective classes, we were together. He spent so much time with me that my roommates began referring to him as the fourth roommate.

Right at the beginning of our relationship, I realized Bentum wasn’t very organized nor disciplined so I did my best to help him. When it was time to study, I made sure we were studying, I made sure we had healthy meals. And before he went and blew all his money on ‘boys-boys’, I made sure he had earmarked what he’d eat for the month and put it aside.

Looking back, one thing I am proud I did was that while helping him, I did not forget nor neglect me. I studied, I did not let that relationship take my sense of self away.

Bentum met my family as I did his. Both our families accepted our relationship. His parents were so kind to me. And my mother doted on him like one of her sons. We decided that as soon as we were both financially independent, we would tie the knot.

In 2010, Bentum graduated. And I followed suit in 2011. Bentum was blessed to get a great banking job and kickstart his career with full speed. While I on the other hand struggled to find a decent, well paying job. most of the work I could find did not pay me enough to even afford to move out of my parents’ house.

At first Bentum was supportive; he encouraged me to take the ‘bad’ jobs I had seriously and that through my good work, I could find a better one. But as time went on I guess he got tired of me not making enough to measure up to his standard. He became distant, rarely called me and even more rarely answered my calls. Then he started picking unnecessary fights, and complaining about the silliest things. I saw the signs, I should have pumped the brakes, but no, I looked at all the years, energy and resources I had invested in this guy, and I hung on to him. And I hoped and prayed that his sudden, strange attitude would somehow magically disappear.

It didn’t.

He asked that we break up. By then he was the assistant branch manager of his bank branch. I begged him, and I asked my mom to talk to him. And I recruited his parents to help me change his mind, all to no avail. I still remember the clothes he wore, the cologne on his body and his body language when he looked at me and said, “Stop asking everyone to beg me, it makes you look desperate. And why would you cling to a man who doesn’t love you?” 

I will never forget the look of contempt on his face when he sneered those words at me. He broke my heart and broke my soul, just because he knew he could.

I cried, and tried everything to get him back, until one day my father sat me down and said, “ Nadia, know your worth. Stop begging that boy!” It was hard, but I listened to my Daddy.

Barely six months after leaving me, he married his branch manager. It was the year 2015.

I guess that didn’t make him happy enough, he decided to add insult to injury and bully me online. He would post captions like, “When you’ve been in years-long mediocre relationship and then you meet and marry a boss chick, this is how you worship her feet!!” And that caption came along a photo of him buckling her shoes.

There were many others, and the screenshot association made sure to keep me updated. It was a difficult time for me indeed, going through the pain of financial hardship and the pain of Bentum’s unwarranted and unprovoked attacks.

December 2015, I sat in a lazy chair at La Pleasure Beach. I had gone there just to drown the negative voices in my head, to be in the midst of people and yet be alone. When you go to La Beach, that’s where you see all kinds of couples; they reminded me of the love I’d loved and lost.

A voice startled me, “It appears you’re alone in this crowd and I am lonely, care to take a walk with me?”

He was a frail looking, lanky man with a kind smile and sincere eyes. He stretched out an unsure hand, and without thinking, I took it. I figured what is the worst that could happen?

He told me about himself as we trudged through the sand; his name was Brian, he was Australian, had survived the most aggressive cancer and was traveling through all the continents on the globe to fulfill a promise he made himself on his hospital bed. He was a geologist, an only child, forty five years old. And he was tired of the food at his hotel. Did I know any great food places?

I took him to my Mom’s restaurant.

And every evening, for two weeks, until he departed for the next country, he came to have dinner at my mother’s modest restaurant. He particularly loved palmnut soup and rice balls, and always made sure to tell my Mom to go easy on the pepper in his soup.

And every evening after he’d had his dinner, he’d sit and talk with my parents till I returned from work to help my Mom pack up. Then he would talk for hours before returning to his hotel. 

Everyone was fond of the “Obroni sekuni” – the inquisitive white man. He was full of questions, to my parents and random patrons of the restaurant. Even my father took a liking to him, and he never likes any male friends of his daughters.

The weekend before Brian left, he asked my parents’ permission to take me out. It was a lovely date, and I found myself sad that he was leaving. He gave me his iphone, said he’d buy another and keep in touch.

My Mom said, “He will be back.”

I thought she was just saying stuff to make me feel better. But she was right. Four months after departing for Asia, four months of facetime and phone calls, Brian came back. And he came with a purpose.

“When you’ve had a close brush with death, you learn the value of time, and you learn not to waste it. Nadia, will you marry me?” He said, showing me a delicate pink diamond ring.

We were at my Mom’s restaurant, and I was shocked! Don’t get me wrong, I was hoping we would eventually get there, but not that soon. I looked at my Mom, she was happily gesticulating for me to take the ring. And I guess I took too long, because she walked over, took the ring and said, “Yes she will.”

I kid you not. She did that.

Story Continues Here…