I fell in love with an old man

It was an unfamiliar environment for me, I had followed a friend’s directions to get a particular thing I had been looking for. It wasn’t a fancy environment, neither was it a rusty one. Rather, it was a mix of both. A gorgeous modern 3 storey building painted in brown with an overlaying brick fence right next to small bungalow where the only cemented part is the front of the house, every other part was built with mud and it had no gate. I found that a little interesting, both houses had mud yet, you know which is which. The social classification of mud.
This old man was coming in the opposite direction I was walking, so we were bound to meet at some point, and just as we were about to, our eyes met. He didn’t ask or demand, he didn’t need to, my culture demanded it from me to bend my knees in greeting to an elder and so when we did meet, I bended and whispered something incomprehensible in the way of greeting.
I wasn’t expecting a reply, it wasn’t necessary. But the old man paused a bit to reply me with
"how are you my darling"
that took me by surprise because it’s not like I actually said a greeting. Maybe he assumed I did or maybe he was looking for someone to talk to, I didn’t know. I stopped, turned back and smiled through my
"I’m very fine thank you sir"
He returned my smile with a wider one and I could see his almost rusty brown teeth, they say it comes from kolanot, those brown teeth old people have. My grandmother used to have them too and no amount of brushing would make them go away.
I began to take a good look at this man. He wasn’t really that old, maybe about 65 or so, but he looked like he was 80. His worn-outness probably came from poverty because he was obviously poor; his mismatched Ankara sokoto and ewu were faded and some of the seam had come loose somewhere around his shoulder, he had grey beard (very unkempt) that spattered across his chin like weeds, no structure or pattern, and his rubber sandals has sure seen better days. This man was poor but he didn’t sound like it. Now that I think about it, there was a bit of quality to his very correct English. I looked up at him and realised he was still smiling at me. He had caught me assessing him, but he wasn’t fazed.
"I have never seen your face around here, are you new?"
"Kind of, I came to buy something here"
"Oh I see. Do you mind walking an old man to his home?"
What? I cocked my head to one side and looked at him. He probably had an idea what was going on in my mind as he extended his right hand to me and I, ever curious, took it and started walking back the way I was coming from. As we walked, I noticed people starring at us, some amused, some just smiling and I knew that the old man does this often. I couldn’t help but think that if he wasn’t so poor, he’d be proper sugar daddy material, he definitely had the face and charisma for it.
As we walked, I asked him a bunch of questions while he laughed at my enthusiasm and answered as little as possible. I wanted to know how long he’s lived here, does he have children and grandchildren? What historical moments did he witness live? How does he speak so well? It was a pleasant evening filled with laughter and amusement. One thing he did say and I’ll never forget is this;
" I am in old man and death is moving closer to me with every passing day, why not create moments like this and enjoy the thrill of something new"
I did wrinkle my nose and gave him a petulant
"Oh so I was just another new thing, and nothing special about me to you?" That really made him laugh. But I understood what he said and I was really glad that on the days when he would be feeling like the glooming grey of the dusk rather than the bubbly radiance of the sun like he is feeling now, I’d be another streak in his silver lining and then maybe he would feel a little better.
I stayed for a bit to hear the story of his first love (yes I’m a romantic) and when it was time to go, he asked me to come by again one of these days and I said I would, over and over.
Although it did occur to me that in all my promises of coming by again, I never gave a time, neither did I envision one. One of these days I said again to myself when I was alone on the bike homeward bound, one of these days.