THE PARTY

 

 

It was the last day of the year and Hannah was having a party. She wasn’t going to have one, but then she thought about how wonderful the year had been. She’d got a promotion at work and had been able to finish the house she was building for her parents in her hometown—a dream house that had left them completely awestricken. She decided there was enough reason to throw a party.

It wasn’t a big party, just her closest friends and some colleagues from work. She’d contracted out the cooking to one of the best caterers in town. Her guests had a variety of delicious dishes to choose from: pounded yam, jollof rice, fried rice, amala, and an assortment of side dishes. There was also a huge velvet cake that had everyone salivating. Drinks were of the soft variety and in abundance. No beer. Beer was an absolute no-no. She had a few bottles of hard drinks tucked away in a cabinet somewhere for when she had her occasional cravings, but no one was getting drunk on her watch, certainly not in her house.

Her guests served themselves from a long table laid out in the middle of the dining room that had been cleared of its everyday furniture and set up as the hall for the occasion. Guests also had the option of sitting outside under the car shed, which had been left empty. She had hired two ad hoc helpers to make sure everyone was well taken care of.

Soft music played, creating a soothing atmosphere. Her baby brother, Phillip, was in charge of music. He was set up in a corner. She’d told him the kind of music she wanted. None of those same-sounding ubiquitous party jams for her. The previous night he’d shown her the selections he’d made and she had been well pleased. She watched him now with an indulgent smile, as he chewed a drumstick like someone without a care in the world. He was her favourite, she loved him more than her parents, a fact that greatly displeased her father. He always mentioned whenever he got the opportunity that she owed her life to him and her mother, as a matter of fact, the boy, too, owed them his life, so they ought to come first on the scale of preference, to which she always laughed and told him she was eternally grateful. Phillip lived in what is popularly referred to as a BQ (Boy’s Quarters, which could be anything from a one-room mini flat to a whole house, depending on the builder’s pocket) at the back of the house. He always had his meals with her, even though he could cook and was gainfully employed. He also had a free run of the house, only her room, her sanctum, was out of bounds to him without her permission. He knew how much she adored him and sometimes used it to devastating effect, but he was all in all a good person.

Satisfied with the way of things, she grabbed a bottle of malt and a glass cup and went to her sitting room, to rest for a bit. She had been on her feet for hours ensuring that everything turned out right. The sitting room was big. A couch sat against one wall; an armchair was placed adjacent to it. A huge TV dominated the wall that faced the couch. Two medium round rust-coloured Hausa leather poufs sat in the middle on a lush caramel carpet. A bookcase was tucked into a nook.

Hannah reclined on the couch, quietly sipping her drink. She reached for a glossy magazine that was on the occasional table and began to flip through it absent-mindedly. She was thinking many things at the same time.

“Success is accomplishing the goals you have set for yourself.”

She raised her glass and toasted herself. By dint of hard work and good fortune, she’d been able to accomplish so much in a relatively short time. She was the pride of her parents. Her siblings admired and looked up to her. Her friends were wonderful, and to top it all, this wonderful house that she’d designed and built from the ground up. Sometimes, she’d want to stop and pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t living in a dream.

She dropped the magazine.

Her mother had called this morning to wish her well and a successful party. She’d also expressed the desire that Hannah would not have a party. She shouldn’t be so flamboyant with her accomplishments in order not to scare away suitors.

There was always just one thing left to do.

You could never satisfy people.

But you could try.

And there was always that one thing that remained elusive.

Amongst her guests was Philemon, A tall, lanky man with a full head of hair and a grin that outshone Macleans’. She’d met and gone on dates with some fascinating men, but none had sent her pulse racing like this man, who stood now in the midst of mutual friends chatting away on some topic that seemed exciting to them.

He was a good friend, completely unaware of her true feelings.

She allowed her eyes to rest on him. To feed on him.

As if he felt the pull of her gaze, he turned his head.

She smiled and raised her glass to him.

He smiled back and then broke away from the others.

“I’ve been meaning to catch you alone, but you’ve been so busy and I got side-tracked. Congratulations on a wonderful party.”

“Thank you, Philemon,” she said, indicating that he should sit beside her. She said his name as if she was rolling it over in her mouth and tasting it.

He raised his brows.

 He laughed. “Are you trying to come up with an innovative way of calling my name?”

Oh, dear. “How do you mean?” Pretend you don’t know what he is talking about.

 “I have never heard my name pronounced that way before. I can’t place the accent you used, though.”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so, too. By the way, it’s a great place you have here.” He cast his eyes about the room. Lovely personal touches.” 

A man who noticed and appreciated personal touches, my heart. “Thank you, again.”

“And the food, Hannah, was just what my soul required today.”

She grinned. “Surely, you didn’t eat everything.”

“Great side dishes. I went for pounded yam. I enjoyed the vegetable soup so much. It’s obvious you went all out for this party even though it is a small one. And it’s a great success, if you care for my opinion.”

‘I appreciate it.”

“So what are you celebrating, that the year is finally over or thanking it for having been so good to you?”

“It is not over yet, but it has been a great year. So I am thanking it, celebrating it.”

 He nodded. “Did it give you all you desired?”

She laughed softly and looked away. “Want some malt, juice?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I gather it didn’t give you all.”

She shrugged. “There is always one more thing, isn’t there? We can’t have it all.”

“Says the woman who has it all.”

She was stunned. “You think so?”

“You don’t?”

“Define having it all.”

“As far as I know, there isn’t one definition.”

“Give yours.”

“I’ll say you have it all.” He turned towards the dining room. “I’m sure most of the people there feel so, too.”

She smiled. Started to speak, gave him a considering look, stopped.

“Go on,” he said.

“My mother called me this morning to wish me well and also ask me not to have a party, because if I celebrate too much, I’d drive suitors away.”

He said nothing.

She watched him, waiting.

“Well,” He cleared his throat. “It’s hardly surprising coming from a mother. I’m sure your father feels the same way.”

“Even if he didn’t, my mum will make him. So, we can safely say my parents do not see me as having it all. All I have, wonderful and useful as they are, pales in comparison to my having a suitor. And I’m sure most of the people here would feel the same way if they weighed it.”

“What is more important is how you feel,” he stated quietly. It isn’t really about having it all, you see, it is whether you are satisfied. I don’t think you should allow anyone, not even your mother, to ruin your joy. Celebrate what you have accomplished. You have come a long way.”

She gave him a grateful smile. Still, she needed to know. “Would you be afraid to pursue a woman you consider successful, a woman like me?”

“Not really, because I have not done badly myself, as you know. Otherwise, I would.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d be afraid of dragging her down. That would be my fear. A woman like you needs not only a man that stirs her emotions, but also one that stimulates her mind. You wouldn’t find me challenging if you’ve achieved and earned more than I do.”

She shook her head slowly. “I never planned to have all these, you know. They just happened. I never actually sat down to articulate my aspirations. When I graduated from the university, I just hoped for a job that would enable me to be financially independent. Every other thing that followed came about through time and chance and hard work.”

Philemon nodded again. “If you weren’t smart, you wouldn’t have recognised time and chance, as you put it. And you have no cause to regret having made the most of the opportunities that came your way. As I said, bask in your accomplishment. If it is anything, I admire you a great deal. And any man frightened by what you have is certainly not deserving of your time and energy.”

She gave a rueful smile. “You are so kind. You’ve always been. Thank you.”

“I wondered why you looked so sad,” he said, his eyes boring into hers.

“Pardon?”

“You were sitting alone and looking very sad even though you were having a party and it was going smoothly. That’s the real reason I decided to join you.”

“Oh.”

“I didn't like it one bit. I came determined to lift your spirits. I hope I have succeeded in doing that."

She beamed at him. "Yes."

He stood up and held out his hand to her. "Then, dance with me. Your brother has been playing some really cool songs. Let's not waste them any further."

She got up on legs that weren't so steady.

As they danced, he sang along with the music, whispering the corny lyrics in her ears.

 

 

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