It was during the season of shea fruits and Atinga was well known among the children for being the best climber. He could climb and swing from branch to branch hanging on a leash like a monkey. He loved the delicious fleshy sheafruits. It was nutritious and easy to digest. Indeed, there is an old joke
which says that when you eat the shea fruits, it’s always in a hurry to come out because it doesn’t want to be trapped inside you when you die. Which is why it’s often advised not to eat shea fruits in the evening.
He was on top of the shea tree when he saw a beautiful girl carrying a big straw-woven-basket on her head, walking towards his direction along the footpath that passed by the shea tree. He shook the branch harder and listened to the soft falling off the shea fruits to the ground. She didn’t seem to bother. He shook
harder. She only turned and continued to walk. He called out when she was almost passing the tree, she looked up, greeted him, and continued. He asked her if she would like some of the shea fruits. She declined his offer. He asked her if she will allow him to accompany her but she declined.

The idea flashed through his mind quickly. Atinga let go of the branch and fell to the ground with a thud. He cried out loudly. She stopped and turned suddenly, a look of concern on her
face. When he cried out again, she brought down the basket and rushed to Atinga.
She asked if he was all right. In reality, he wasn’t hurt, has fallen from much higher heights before, but he pretended that he was in pain. She asked if he could stand, he tried and fell back to his butts. She gave him her hand and helped him to his feet. From up close, he shuddered. He could feel her pretty brown eyes searching his, his heart missed a beat. There was
a tint of scepticism on her face and he feared that if she looked deeper, she could detect that he was pretending. However, she didn’t detect anything.
He staggered and she held him closer. She asked him where he lived and if he could walk home. He told her where his house was but wasn’t sure if he could walk home. She informed him that she was taking millet flour to prepare lunch for
farmers at her sister’s groundnut farm. She asked for his name and gave him her name as Alelara. she told him to wait for her to take the food to the farmers first. If no one comes to help him, she will return and help him to his house.
A deep feeling of unease overtook him. In his eyes, Alelara was perfect, beautiful body, slender legs and even though she had soft skin, a few scars on her legs showed that she had overcome the early stages of survival. He was sad because
he was afraid that he didn’t deserve such a beautiful girl. How could such a precious creature want him?
When Alelara left, it felt as though some part of him had left. He tried to think of what to tell when she comes back. He composed a few sentences. He planned to thank her for helping him and also slip in how her presence made him feel. He would tell her that the ancestors wanted them to meet each other which is why it happened the way it did.

He waited, ate all the shea fruits, watched the sun go down, but there was still no sign of Alelara. He wasn’t going home until he saw her again. When she returned, it was almost dark and she didn’t return alone. She was with some of the farmers and relatives. Atinga chickened out and fled. When Atinga
returned home, he spoke to his mother who promised him that she would investigate her background and let him know. It turned out that she was visiting her sister who was married to
Atinga’s clan. After sending twenty guinea fowls and countless kola nuts and tobacco and ten visits, her parents agreed. This was how Atinga met his wife Alelara. They have been married for over fifty years now blessed with three
grown-up men.
Do you think love and marriage have deviated from how it was
supposed to be? How did you meet your wife or husband? 

Written by: S.A.A.