Women Celebrates Marriage Anniversary With Inspiring Story Of How It Began>>>Newsline9ja.com

HOW THE BLESSINGS BEGAN

I woke up late, that Sunday morning, confused on whether to attend Mass late or stay back home. One mind told me that being 15-20mins late is not very bad. So I jumped out of bed, brushed, bathed and then realised I didn’t pick which dress to wear on Saturday night.πŸ€¦β€β™€οΈπŸ˜©

Damn!😩

I picked one knee-length cream-coloured dress, accessorised myself with brown flats, tummy belt, black mini bag and off I went.πŸ˜†

After paying the Keke man his N30 opposite UniUyo main gate, I made attempt to adjust my dress and daaaaammmmnnn, the dress had a tear.😳😒

Whaaaaat???😯

It was not obvious though, because of the design of the fabric (lace).😁

All confidence Baby Girl left home with flew away with the Keke I boarded. Zooooom!🀨

But I gathered faith.πŸ˜‰πŸ™‚

I got to the church compound, made straight for the door, but the Choir was singing Psalm, so I, with other latecomers waited. When it was time to go in, the Church Warden in charge of children’s section asked us to follow her. Why? That’s where space was.πŸ™‚

I went and sat down. I was concentrating, until a baby, who was with his mum in front of my pew caught my attention. I stretched forth my hands and the baby followed me. As I tried to settle him on my laps, fiam, he stretched forward to touch someone who sat beside me.πŸ™„

That was when I turned to look at the person that sat beside me.πŸ™„πŸ™„

Well, I hated him immediately.πŸ˜€

Why?πŸ€”

First of all, a baby I carried to play with followed him, even without him first communicating with the baby. But I really loved the way he was playing with the baby afterwards o. And for a moment, I thought he was the father.😊😍

Second of all, there’s a set of guys I have default dislike for. Those tall cute ones that wear something like; grey trousers, white shirt, black belt, black shoes and black tuxedo. And will carry iPhone, and occasionally go through Bible portions when The Priest makes reference (as if they can’t buy a Bible).πŸ™„ Well, that’s how he was dressed on that fateful day o.πŸ˜†πŸ˜†πŸ˜†πŸ˜†

So, I hated him immediately when I saw him.

Then, Liturgy of the Eucharist began.πŸ˜‹

Bro sang like he was following the directions of an imaginary conductor (choirmaster). It was time for offertory, and the title of the song (guess and win a jar of Kemz Peanuts Burger).πŸ˜›

He sang well o. I no go lie gi una. Bro has this smooth silky bass voice when he sings. Yes, he’s my Brother, too. U no see as we RESEMBLANCE?🀣🀣🀣🀣🀣 Even my Daddy says so o.

Well, I spoke first. I am that bold and confident.πŸ₯°

I said, “You sing well” without even looking up to see who I was speaking to. He’s tall. More than 6ft. Taller than an average Akwa Ibom man.πŸ˜›

He said, “you have a beautiful voice. Are you in the Choir?” “Yes!” I lied o. That was a lie. And he said, “but I’ve never seen you. Or is it NFCS Choir only?” Chei😳😳😳😳

I’m sure even my ancestors bin comot hand 4 my mata dat very moment.🀣🀣🀣🀣🀣

I immediately added that I sing in my home Parish o. Chai.

Bro said “Okay. But how about joining us here?”

I said No.πŸ™ƒ

He insisted. Asked for my number so he can invite me to Choir rehearsal the next day by 6pm. I said “No.”πŸ™ƒ

He’s a gentleman o. He immediately changed the topic and talked about how cute and hyperactive the baby boy we were playing with was. I kept nodding like a lizard.πŸ˜πŸ™ˆ

Fast forward to the close of Mass, during announcements, he talked about joining the Parish choir again, I promised to give it a thought. I just wanted him to shut up and stop talking.πŸ€¦β€β™€οΈ

Jeez! Baby girl was wearing a torn dress.πŸ™ˆ

Before you ask, I went late for Mass. I think he went late too, so we both didn’t go for the reception of the Holy Communion.πŸ˜’

After Mass, I made straight for the door, someone followed me and I could swear it wasn’t him because of the speed I used to move immediately someone stopped him to chitchat.🧐

The next thing I heard was “Fine girl, you didn’t tell me your name!”😳

Can you imagine?πŸ™„

“I am Agnes.”😊

“Oh, beautiful! My name is Raphael!’

“Okay.”πŸ™„

“Are you schooling here? Which department?”

“Linguistics.”😊

“Oh great. I hope you’ll teach me phonetics?”πŸ˜€

(Smiles)…”how about you? Which department?”

(Smiling)…”I’m not a student.”

“Oh, sorry! Are you a Kopa?”

“I came back from Service in 2010, dear.”

Damn!πŸ€­πŸ™ˆ
I hated him again. So much pride. How dare he tell me that.🀣🀣🀣🀣

“So, about the choir rehearsal, do we have a deal?”

“No.”πŸ˜”

“Okay. But please give me your number.”

“Wow! You are persistent! Okay.”πŸ˜‹

I gave him my number, got his, said goodbyes and went home.

He called that evening.

Called the next day.

Usually, he calls when he wakes, when he arrives at his office, when he’s headed home, and when it’s about bedtime.πŸ˜‹πŸ˜‹

Long calls. Very long calls. Since then. Even now. And tomorrow. And forever.πŸ₯°πŸ₯°πŸ₯°πŸ₯°

The first day I saw him after our first meeting in Church, I didn’t recognise him. Maybe it’s because…

ToBeContinued

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PS: This story will never end!😍πŸ₯°β€οΈπŸ§‘πŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’™πŸ’œβ™₯οΈπŸ’πŸ’–πŸ’—πŸ’“πŸ’žπŸ’•β£οΈπŸ’ŸπŸ’―πŸ”₯πŸ’ƒπŸ•Ί
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Anniversary

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