First love, true love

‘Yes, I find this novel really captivating.’ He replied, lowering the book down on the bed to look at me.‘You mean it’s a novel that got you so entranced? I thought we’ve gone past that age hubby dearest. I thought we left that ‘just can’t put down’ syndrome in our teenage years. I mean we […]

‘Yes, I find this novel really captivating.’ He replied, lowering the book down on the bed to look at me.
‘You mean it’s a novel that got you so entranced? I thought we’ve gone past that age hubby dearest. I thought we left that ‘just can’t put down’ syndrome in our teenage years. I mean we can justify it then because romantic novels ruled our world but certainly not now.’ I complained.
‘Maybe we did, but this isn’t your regular Mills and Boon, Denise Robbins or Barbara Cartland kind of stuff. This book is non-fiction, it is a true love story that involved the ultimate sacrifice. That is why I am finding it hard to put down.’ He explained.
‘Really, a true love story involving the ultimate sacrifice? It must be a tale of White people, Africans aren’t capable of that kind of love.’ I replied, lying on my side of the bed and pulling the duvet cover over me.
‘Oh Bint, so this is how poorly you rate our ability to love? You really believe members of your own race are incapable of loving truly and sincerely? What kind of a self-hating Black person are you?’ he asked, in mock horror.
‘But it’s not a self-hating syndrome, it is the truth. We Blacks are incapable of dying for love. At least I haven’t heard a single Black
African story that resembles Romeo and Juliet.’ I insisted.
‘Well stop right there. The story I am reading isn’t just Black African, it is Nigerian through and through. It is the love and death story of a very prominent son of a Nigeria, a true hero and what turned out be his even more heroic wife.’ Tahir explained.
‘Nigerian hero and his heroic wife?’ I quoted him, ‘I’m sure I’ve never heard of them.’
‘Don’t be too sure because I know that you knew how Sir Ahmadu Bello, the first premier of Northern region met his end, didn’t you?’ he asked, sitting up on the bed.
‘Yes, he died in the hands of coupists who staged the first military coup in Nigeria in January 1966.’ I replied.
‘Good, did you also happen to know that he was killed along with his wife that day?’ he queried.
‘Yes, I heard that his first wife died along with him.’ I answered.
‘What you probably didn’t know was that she died trying to shield him from his assassins’ bullet. In other words, she was not the target of the attack, Hajiya Habsatu Ahmadu Bello was killed because she was trying to save her husband. It was only after she was shot that they were able to get to him. This is the great love story I am finding it hard to put down.’ He added.
‘I see, well I never heard the story from that angle. But if she sacrificed herself to save him then he must have been a wonderful man indeed. Few men will inspire that kind of devotion today.’ I opined.
‘Really? Can it be that few women are capable of that kind of love because they are fair weather wives and lovers?’ Tahir countered.
‘No, we women will always love and sacrifice ourselves for you. The only thing is, with the passage of time, you men keep doing things that make it impossible for us to remain that loyal. Most men go out of their way to show how little our wishes, our aspirations and even our safety mean to them. In such a situation, most women also find it hard to maintain the unflinching love and affection they have for their men.
This is why it will take a particularly unique man to inspire the kind of love that made Hajiya Habsatu sacrifice herself for Sir Ahmadu Bello. I mean look at it this way, she was wife number 1, because he already had two others at the time of his death. Both number two and three had children for him, Hajiya Habsatu never had a child.
Now if Sardauna Ahmadu had ever mistreated her, she wouldn’t be the one trying to shield him from harm, it will be those new wives who were being treated better. If he had ever held her barrenness against her, she wouldn’t have been the one to sacrifice herself for him, it would have been those who had children for him. But for her to jump in the line of fire, to save a man who had two other wives, he must have given her the best treatment of all. He must have been deserving of it.’ I argued.
‘Another possibility was that she was just a true first love.’ Tahir countered ‘You know what they say about first love being the only true love. So the way I see it, she didn’t waste time considering anything when she saw her man about to be murdered. Driven by love, she simply went ahead and did the most natural thing any true lover would, she shielded him and received the bullets in his place.
So admit it Bint, you are only finding it hard to give this heroin the credit she deserves because you know that today’s women will never do the thing she did. I mean all of you would like to become first ladies, like she was to the late premier, but no one would take the bold step she took in sacrificing herself for him.’ He insisted.
‘Tahir darling, see it this way. If Sir Ahmadu Bello wasn’t so deserving, she would have remained where she was and no one would have come for her. From all the accounts I read of that bloody night, the coupists struck late at night. They put off the electricity at the Premier’s residence and while in darkness, began screaming that Sir Ahmadu Bello should come out and face them. All Hajiya Habsatu needed to do was to hide under her bed and pray.
But the moment she heard him walking out in the darkness, she followed him. She went with him right to where the coupists were standing and making their murderous requests. Like I said, I always heard that she died with him but I didn’t know that she died trying to shield him.
Yet now that this fact has emerged, it can only mean that the moment Chukwuma Nzeogwu pointed his gun at the Premier, she rushed between them and took the first bullets.
Only a husband of incredibly good qualities could inspire this sacrifice, believe me. I mean she knew what she was going for, she could have turned back, ran somewhere in the darkness and hide, but no, she decided to be by his side to the very end. Yes, she was a brave, loving and loyal wife, but the Sardauna must have done something remarkable to deserve her love.’ I concluded.
‘It is obvious that there is no helping your case Bint. This heroic woman followed the dictates of her heart and died for love and all you can say is her husband deserved the credit for bringing out the best in her? I really agree with the man who said we should only love women and not try to understand them. I mean when we started this discussion, I thought you will be overjoyed to hear that a woman had committed the ultimate sacrifice for love and call her a perfect role model, but here you are saying the exact opposite. I give up Bint.’ He declared, picking up his book to resume reading. Looking at the book cover from his hand I read aloud.
‘The Unsung Heroin, Hajiya Habsatu Ahmadu Bello, by Ladi Adamu,’ then I said in a conciliatory tone, ‘Don’t sound so disappointed darling, I will read the book as soon as you are through with it. Maybe that will convince me that she was the true lover and not the man who inspired her sacrifice.’ I offered.