And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. --Romans 8:28 (KJV)

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“Friendzone should be a relationship status on Facebook.” -Anonymous

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"Godswill, I love you too," she said, making a wide grin come on his face. "But only as a very dear brother in Christ and friend."

His grin disappeared as fast as it had appeared. What is it with these ladies and speaking in gentle tones and leading statements? If he wasn't so concerned about what she thought of him, he'd have given an eye-roll to punctuate her statement.

Godswill had thought his prayers had finally been answered when Adebimpe spoke those three magical words to him. But then, who was he kidding? He should have realised that those three words would become a shackle for the friend zone he seemed to have been stuck in for the past few years.

For the past three years, he had been receiving one no after the other from any and every sister he had proposed a relationship to. And it was always the same answer.

It was either they replied with "I love you like a brother" or "You're such a great friend to me and I love you as such" or "The love I have for you is agape".

Godswill was already convinced that there had to be something about him that made the Christian ladies think all he wanted was to be a friend or brother or mentor to them. Or was God paying him back for being overly 'spirikoko' and refusing to see any of the ladies he had met while in the university as a potential wife?

He had only wanted to concentrate on his studies and he had inadvertently turned his very beautiful classmates and even fellow sisters in church into friends, sisters and even mentees. Whereas, God hadn't turned his heart towards any of them. So why was He withholding his Eve?

Besides, society didn't help matters. It had been drummed into him from when he was a kid that the man was the provider, protector, repairer, and every responsibility that a young African male has been saddled with from the beginning of time. So, he had waited to graduate school with a first class in Chemistry because no company would recruit anyone with lesser qualifications. He had searched for a job in well-known chemical laboratories in the country but couldn't find one because where does a Chemistry graduate want to work in this Nigeria. He had strived to become an entrepreneur because no lady of the 21st century would bank her life on a man with no job or money.

Now, with his thirty-fifth year on earth staring him in the face, his restaurant had taken off and was doing great, he had a nice apartment which he shared with his covenant friend and he even managed to buy a fairly-used Toyota Corolla. Still, the bone of his bone seemed to be on a self-imposed hiatus.

Moreso, as he grew into an adult, he began to feel like his parents had done him dirty by naming him Godswill. It was so ironic how no lady had ever seen him as God's will for her.

Brother? Friend? The next person that calls me that is going to hear it from me.

What did that even mean?

Brother? I am definitely not related to any of these sisters.

Friend? I have enough friends as it is. And is it their enemy they want to marry?

Sighing, he looked up at Adebimpe. She was everything he loved and wanted in a woman. She was fair-skinned, plumpy and curvaceous with the most beautiful cat-like brown-coloured eyes he had ever seen on a human. She always spoke with a soft but clear, shrill tone in British English that rivalled that of the Britons of old. That wasn't all. She sang in the choir in church and every time she led a song, the power of God was always evident in the service. In fact, he was a living testimony to that. Each time she sang, his spirit always soared in him and he always felt like he was on the high-altitude plane that would enable him to commune with God face-to-face. Even her tongues was like a Browning machine gun, rapid and effective, putting down every demon that stood in the way.

When she said nothing and gave him the same bright smile that he had come to love, he forced a smile through also. I have to at least try once more.

"Won't you at least pray about it?" He asked with all the remaining hope left in him.

"I'm sure, Bro Godswill. In fact," her face took on the expression of one who was seeing beyond the physical as she looked up towards the ceiling and spoke in a low voice. "I had an open vision at the same instance when you asked me for a relationship. In the vision, I heard God's voice like thunder. It was a reverberating no. I'm so sorry. It's not you, it's me. I'm just not right for you."

If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought she was mocking him, especially with the pitiful and patronizing look in her eyes. She probably felt sorry for hurting his feelings. Feelings he had been nursing for the past six months since she directed her mesmerizing smile and gaze in his direction during one of their stewards' meetings at their church.

Godswill had thought he had the backing of the host of heaven because he had asked for an opportunity to talk with her and God had obviously answered that fateful Saturday during their monthly Stewards' Meeting. Almost immediately after whispering that prayer, his pastor had encouraged all stewards to introduce themselves to a steward they had never spoken to since they became part of the workforce.

With all the Holy Ghost-inspired swagger and power-packed smile he could muster, he had found his way to her side of the auditorium and had waited patiently for a brother from the Evangelism Department to leave her alone before he spoke to her.

After their short interaction, he had felt an indescribable connection to her and he had thought he had finally gotten his Eve.
He had mistaken their six-month-old friendship and her ever-bright smile as more than enough signal that they had mutual feelings for each other. But now, he knew it wasn't true. He had been living on the Island of Delusion and he was apparently the only resident there.

What could he say to her now when she had said she heard a reverberating no from the throne of God. He couldn't contest that and risk sounding like a scorned jerk. She was the one that knew what she heard. But it was obvious she was only trying to let him down easy. He didn't want things to be awkward because she was an amazing woman. And she seemed sure that she wasn't for him. Or was it the other way around?

"Okay. Let's pretend like today never happened then. No awkwardness. So, do you want to eat anything else before we leave?"

Yes, his feelings were hurt and he felt like a first-class fool but he was also a believer and things would only get awkward in church if he reacted from his feelings.
He was done trying to make her change her mind. He'd rather have her friendship than alienate her because of a rejection. Or at least he could try.

But who was he deceiving?

*********

Thank God we are not in the same department in church.

Unlocking the main door into his two-bedroom apartment located in Kemta Estate in the city of Abeokuta, which he shared with his best friend, Godswill Efe sighed loudly. Sighing had become his new expression since leaving the restaurant where he had taken Adebimpe to for lunch.

Wow, I should be given a place in the Guinness Book of Records as the man with the most rejections in the relationship section, if there is any category like that. Just within the past year, three ladies had shot his proposal down like it was a fat pheasant in full flight and they were hunters seeking for food to devour.

The most hurtful thing was that they all said the same thing with different wordings. The most annoying one was "it's not you, it's me".

What does that even mean?

Stalking to the love seat in the living room, he sat as another loud sigh escaped. Nothing was wrong with him. At least, not that he knew of. He was a believer with a strong foundation in the Bible and he feared God with all of his heart. Not to sound arrogant but he was the perfect spec for most ladies — TDH, they called it. Tall, dark and handsome.

Well, when he stood at his full height, he was about five feet and nine inches. If that wasn't tall, what did they want from him? Dark was an understatement. He was so dark, that he sometimes felt like he competed with dark chocolate. And handsome, he definitely was, with his very expressive dark Asian-like eyes, well-sculpted nose and moderately-thick lips. He knew he was handsome because whenever he stood in front of his mirror, he always lifted a word of thanksgiving to God for his wonderfully and fearfully made facial features.

He was a chef by profession as he had abandoned his degree in Chemistry. What more could he do with it when even no mutually-liked female wanted to have chemistry with him. He was also very involved in his church as a member of the Hospitality Team. He wasn't very wealthy, but he was comfortable enough to afford the things he needed.

He came from a family with strong values and strong faith in God and His word. He had just two siblings; one elder sister and a younger brother.

What more? He was living comfortably in his two-bedroom apartment, though it was rented. The living room was fully furnished with pieces of furniture in coffee brown and cream-coloured walls. By the wall facing the main entrance was a 60" TV and DStv decoder with a Sony home theatre. The curtains covering the two large windows were a mixture of cream and coffee colours. But for the most part, the kitchen was the most tastefully furnished part of the house with any and every appliance known to man from the non-stick pots and frying pan to the gas cooker slash oven to the refrigerator. Godswill had outdone himself in making the kitchen a haven.

But the one thing or person he wanted in his life, he didn't have. At his age, all of his friends with whom he finished school were all married. A lot were expecting their second or third child and here he was, still searching for the flesh of his flesh. It even seemed like the more he tried to search for her, the more he got shut in the Prison of the Friend Zone.

More like I am the Chief Warden of the Friend Zone Prison.

In so many programmes that had held in his church, a lot of prophecies would come for the unmarried and by or before the next special programme, the singles would have become doubles. Only his own single had decided to remain an unattached, desolate pringle.

Godswill, The Singleton. Or G.W, The Singlet. He snickered and shook his head in self-deprecation.

His stomach's growls reminded him that he hadn't been able to eat more than a piece of doughnut and a can of Amstel Malta at the restaurant he just returned from. Who would be able to eat after being rejected by the lady he thought he felt a connection with? Shaking off his thoughts, he stood and made to go into the kitchen.

At least, let me feed myself before I continue my pitiful soliloquy and unbiased self-assessment.

Picking up a pot, he filled it with water as he prepared to make boiled yam and his signature pepper sauce. After about forty-five minutes, he heard a door shut and the sound came from within the house.

Eiii, this guy is at home.

"Welcome. How did it go?"

Turning to his friend, he faked a smile and said, "It went as it has been going."

He saw him try to hide his snicker. "You're supposed to be my friend o. See you laughing at my predicament," he hissed out which only made Tunde laugh aloud.

He had met Babatunde during his National Youth Service year at the NCCF, Rivers State where he was posted to. They had hit it off and he was more than glad to discover that Tunde had similar values to his. They even looked alike as people often told them. The only thing different was his friend's sense of humour. He laughed at the oddest things and even times. Like now.

"I'm sorry. But I don't want to say I told you so," Tunde replied, still trying to keep his laughter to a minimum.

"Yeah, right." He turned back to stir the sauce on the cooking gas before he spoke out loud. "I'm beginning to think something is wrong with me. Like what about me makes all these ladies see me as a 'brother' or 'friend'. I'm as crystal clear as a chandelier glass concerning my intentions, but I still end up friend-zoned or worse, brother-zoned."

"Well, we can talk about it as we eat, yeah?" Babatunde replied as he peered into the pot of sauce on the gas cooker.

"I'm being serious here. You're meant to give me one of those good Ahitophelic advises you normally dole out. But here you are trying to eat food that I cooked," he said with emphasis on the I while glaring at his friend.

"But I love your meals. It's not my fault that you cook so well, is it? Please, serve me like four slices of that boiling hot yam that is calling me to eat it," Tunde said, pointing at the pot of yam, "plus a lot of that locust-bean-baptized sauce. Thank you, my favourite C.F."

"I'm your only C.F," he replied dryly.

Godswill shook his head at his friend's antics. He couldn't even be angry at him. He knew it was the noise of him moving around the kitchen that brought him out of his room but his friend just had to make it known that that was it. He was glad to cook for him and anyone who cared to eat. Besides, their friendship was beyond getting angry at minute things like this.

They'd still talk but his friend needed to be fed first.

"Bring your plate o. Or do I need to do that too, Your Majesty?"

He watched as his friend hurriedly grabbed his plate before turning to him. "Don't let me stress you." Then, he bowed at the waist with his plate in his outstretched hands. "This is my plate, O Emperor of the Culinary Realm."

As he said, his friend was a goof. A big one.

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