DUSK

         “Knowing you Kemi, have proven the most taskfull of my life.” Emeka whispered to her at the time their Beach funfair had come to twilight.
         “Poor girl,” she thought of herself. “What a delicious meal with a last sour bite.”


She may had kissed him and allowed his hands wade carefree around her while they romped in the vacillating Ocean wave, she regretted though, but her desire for him was unquestionable. It was to an excruciating effort that she manages to suppress such emotions. She knew that succumbing would make her feel like a natural woman, a weak woman; the kind she never want to be around a man, much less a fellow whose Christian background places him to an abominable end for whatsoever affair with. He is also an Igbo, a tribe her Yoruba origin is quite wary of.
 
These flickered her mind as she, with a questioning eyes, fixed on him a gaze that suggested nothing but explanation to the unwonted remark. She knew the explanation however. She had proven consciously difficult for this guy whom from the first day had got her heart but her resistance was of a reason; a reason that have begun crumbling with a magnitude close to those of Jericho Walls but in this case, almost without a sound.
 
While he explained, she stared into his lips such that if he was keen enough, he would have realized that she desired something more than words from those succulent lips. She got not a bit from all he said but one thing was certain: that ‘naturality,’ that feeling that apprehends a woman in the arms of a man she truly loves have so infiltrated and this time, she was not ready to fight it any longer.
 
Such a companionship with a Christian and an Igbo – two unwanted features – would be unacceptable to her family as well as her Islamic fate but either way presents a fierce battle. She felt it was time to choose the easier war front.