The morning sun in Ipetu-Ode was bright enough to highlight every wrinkle, every laugh line, and every piece of gossip. And gossip, as everyone knew, traveled faster than the river after a heavy rain.
Zainab was carefully arranging yams in her shop when her mother's friend, Auntie Funke, appeared at the doorway with the enthusiasm of a woman who had just discovered gold.
"My dear child!" Auntie Funke exclaimed. "I must speak with you about… marriage."
Zainab froze. "Marriage? Auntie Funke, please, not today. I'm busy."
"Busy?" Auntie Funke clutched her chest. "A strong, beautiful, intelligent woman like you cannot remain unmarried while good men like Kunle Adebayo roam the earth!"
Zainab groaned. "Auntie, must you always—"
"Silence!" Funke interrupted dramatically. "This is serious business."
Before Zainab could protest, two more aunties appeared, each with wrappers and smiles sharp enough to cut through steel.
"Young lady," said one, pointing a finger, "you must consider your future."
Zainab sighed. She had faced village aunties before, but today they seemed to multiply.
Meanwhile, Kunle was having his own problem.
Sola peeked from the veranda. "Bro, your aunties are planning something."
"What now?" Kunle asked, weary.
"They want to arrange a meeting between you and Zainab's family. Today."
Kunle groaned. "They cannot just—"
Sola laughed. "Bro, in Ipetu-Ode, if the village decides, your opinion comes second. Let's hope you survive."
By midday, Zainab found herself sitting under the mango tree with the three aunties, who were full of plans, lists, and endless advice.
"You must meet the boy formally," Auntie Funke declared. "Dress nicely, speak nicely, and remember: respect is everything."
Zainab folded her arms. "I didn't agree to this."
"You will," another auntie replied. "Love is like the yam harvest—it requires patience, care, and attention. Otherwise, it spoils."
Zainab rolled her eyes but said nothing.
Kunle arrived at the mango tree, dressed neatly but humbly, trying not to appear nervous.
"Good afternoon," he said politely.
Zainab's aunties clutched their hands. "Good afternoon, Kunle Adebayo! Please sit, let's discuss the matter of hearts and families."
Zainab shifted uncomfortably. "Aunties, please…"
Kunle smiled reassuringly at Zainab. "It's alright. I'm happy to meet you all."
The conversation began. Small talk, advice, expectations—Zainab tried not to roll her eyes, while Kunle answered with charm, calmness, and quiet respect.
Just when Zainab thought she could endure it, Tunde appeared.
"I heard there's a meeting," he said, smirking. "Thought I should… see how things are going."
Zainab's heart sank. Kunle's jaw tightened. The aunties whispered in concern.
"Ah-ah!" Funke exclaimed. "This is interesting!"
Tunde leaned toward Zainab. "I hope I'm not too late to… help."
Zainab stood firmly. "Tunde, enough. This isn't about you."
Kunle stepped slightly forward. "It's alright," he said calmly, placing a reassuring hand near Zainab without touching her. His quiet confidence made her heart flutter in a way she couldn't explain.
Tunde scowled but left, muttering under his breath, while the aunties clucked approvingly at Kunle's behavior.
By evening, Zainab and Kunle found themselves walking through the village, away from gossip, drums, and aunties.
"You handled that well," Kunle said softly.
Zainab smiled faintly. "I didn't do anything. Tunde just… left."
"You were calm," Kunle said. "Brave. Strong. And… beautiful."
Zainab laughed nervously. "Stop. You'll make me blush in public."
Kunle grinned. "Maybe I want to."
For the first time, the weight of their past pains felt lighter, as if shared burdens could somehow become bearable. And under the fading sun, two stubborn hearts edged closer, drumbeats of destiny guiding their steps.