Ignorance is Bliss

As she hugged him, she noticed he was tense and maybe it was her imagination, but he appeared jumpy. She let go and looked into his eyes, a frown developing. "I got your message. I am so happy for you. But you don't look happy to see me."

He was pleased to see her but something was in his pocket and she wouldn't be pleased about it.

Weed.

It was what caused their separation four months ago. She had railed and cried. He had begged her but she wouldn't listen.

Although she had been a first-class Pharmacy student since her Year 1 and had even written two articles for the Pharmaceutical Association on The Medicinal Advantages of Marijuana, it didn't stop her from crying her eyes out and leaving him when she saw him smoking weed in the company of his friends.

That was four months ago. Last month, he had made renewed attempts to reach out to her and assure her that his weed days were over. When she wouldn't pick his calls, he had dressed up one Sunday and gone to her church.

She had been surprised when she first saw him but had quickly regained her composure and acted like he was just another person.

He had prayed aloud, his voice sounding over the preacher's when it was time to sing. But she wouldn't even look back at him. Finally, he had sent her a very long message, telling her that he had stopped smoking weed, that he now read the Bible daily and was a changed man.

He didn't get a reply. He waited that whole week for her to reply. She didn't. He had concluded that she had moved on. He needed to move on too, with his life, with weed.

Then today he was in the middle of his third wrap of weed when someone knocked the gate and it turned out to be her. The whole house was reeking of smoke. He had run back inside and sprayed the house to kill the odour. But he forgot to throw away the last wrap of weed in his pocket.

"I am happy." He answered finally. "I'm just surprised. I didn't think I would hear from you again."

He watched her walk inside, looking around a house they had lived in together since their pre-degree years. "I missed you. I'm happy you are a changed man." She picked up the Bible on his table. "So it's true you read the Bible now. I am so happy." She frowned suddenly, "It has just the new testament. The old testament is torn. What happened to it?"

He scratched his head and tried to find an answer, but she wasn't expecting one. "I will bring you a complete Bible next time." He nodded as she buried her head into his chest and sighed contentedly. "I'm happy to be home."

He sighed, relieved and amused. She would never know that he had not read a word of that Bible, or that one hour ago, he used the last page of the old testament to roll his third wrap of weed.

James Ogunjimi