At around four in the morning, I woke up abruptly. Deep seated anxiety and a sense of anticipating the journey ahead of us could not permit me to sleep for long enough.

When I looked out the window, my heart sunk.

Rain fell harder than iron in the morning we were set to travel. The torrential downpour was heavy and hard as nails. Grey clouds had darkened the sky considerably and concealed the early morning sunrise.

I did not even realize that I had been staring so long until Niyi stirred behind me. He usually woke at five a.m. in the morning.

"Babe, kaaro, Babe, good morning," he murmured. His voice was still husky with sleep. Once upon a time, just the sound of his croaking would lighten my mood. 

"E kaaro."

Niyi drew me close to his torso with one arm, and nuzzled my neck. "You do not have to worry about the weather, we can still go to Ife." He rested his chin on my shoulder and checked the bedside clock.

"See? This is just five a.m. The weather can still change at any moment," he said.

I appreciated his attempt to cheer me up, it was a kind gesture. However, travelling to Ife before Jagunlabi struck again looked impossible.

"Teniola."

"Yes."

"You are already thinking of the worst outcome, true or false?"

I laughed without mirth, "True. Everybody give Niyi a round of applause."

My sarcasm earned me a firm spank to my rear.

"Ouch!"

Another smack.

"Ow!"

When I tried to move away from Niyi, he held me in place with a strong arm hooked around my waist. An apology was what he was expecting, but I could not stop giggling like a baby. His touch and musky scent tickled my senses.

Niyi chuckled into the crook of my neck and asked if I was sorry. "If you apologize for your rudeness, I might be compassionate and spare you," he stated.

"Might be?" I enquired sassily.

A gasp escaped from my lips at after the next spank.

"Ye!" I shouted. An exclamation of shock or pain used by Nigerians.

"Now you are talking," Niyi retorted cockily as he massaged the site. "When you were saying, 'Ouch' and 'Ow', he teased while mimicking my American accent, "You did not really feel the pain."

I elbowed him in the gut.

"Ouch! Oh my goodness, stop it Teniola," he said in a girly voice. Clearly mocking my accent. Again.

The ringing of my phone interrupted Niyi's playful games.
It was an American, international phone number. Not among my contacts but my interest was spiked and I answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ten-ten?"

"Mom!"

She laughed heartily, "How have you been? Sorry for not being reachable. I was at—"

"A youth retreat with no network?"

She chuckled, "Bingo. I guess when you reach a certain stage in life your life, you do not care about being spontaneous."

Mum and I laughed when she told me about rock climbing and trying to go fishing. Apparently, she had a nice time. She asked me about work, and if I had settled into day to day life better than when we last spoke. It was a pleasant and light hearted chat that I did not want to end.

Niyi tapped my shoulder and pointed at the clock beside his bed. It was a quarter past five.

I rubbed a hand over my face, reluctant to end the call. Perhaps it was due to the fact that seeing her again was not guaranteed.

"Mom, I will be going away for a while," I said in a shaky voice.

"Where are you going? Why did your voice change? Are you crying? What is going on?" she asked, bombarding me with questions.

I cleared my throat and composed myself before responding, "I am fine, mom. Maybe my voice sounds funny because I just woke up. Relax, it is a short getaway to observe some natural landmarks at a village."

"And you probably will not have access to network, right?" she concluded

"Yes, ma'am."

"How long will you be gone?" she asked.

That question pierced my heart. Some days? A week? One month?  Forever?

"I am on leave, so I will want to have a lot of fun. Maybe two weeks," I replied. That time frame seemed sufficient enough.

"Have a good time and send me photos, Ten-ten. Bye," she replied.

Silent tears fell from my eyes. I prayed it was not goodbye forever. An image of my slightly older, but happy looking mum playing with three babies in a cot flashed before my eyes. Two of them looked like Niyi, and one of them looked like me. My spirit was quickened with hope. Were they my children? I wondered. Being a mother is something I looked forward to.

With a new sense of determination, I bid my mom farewell. "Goodbye, mom. I will definitely see you soon."

By the time the call ended, it was already five-thirty. In an unexpected, but wonderful change of circumstances the rain stopped and the sky had cleared.

"See? Everything is going to be alright," Niyi grinned.

"By the grace of God, all will be well," I affirmed.

We rushed to shower, get dressed and eat. Niyi had arranged for a green car the day before, and our bags were already packed. Everything was in order, so we were able to depart by six a.m. sharp. Just as we were instructed in the vision I had.

**
Niyi drove at a moderate, but steady pace. We were on the Ibadan-Ife highway, which was relatively traffic free at that time of the morning. The cold morning air was crisp with the fresh scent of leaves and earth. I rolled the window beside me down, and welcomed its coolness on my face and on my skin.

Niyi had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh. He looked at me and smiled, before he quickly returned his focus back to the road.

"It is good to see your bright, brown eyes sparkle again, Teniola."

I turned to him with a broad smile on my face. The vision of the three beautiful, brown babies that looked like Niyi and I brought me unspeakable joy. At a time of great tribulation, it was a ray of sunshine. When I gave it more thought, the babies seemed to be the same age. Were they triplets? Wow, I could not wait. If they were, that would be my first and last pregnancy.

Niyi smirked. "Teniola, kilo n sele? Kilode to fin feyin bi eni to n p'olowo toothpaste? Teniola, what is happening? Why are you grinning like a person advertising toothpaste?"

In response to him, my smile brightened but my lips were sealed. The idea of our probable triplets was something I preferred to keep to myself. For the sake of surprise and because Niyi might be in a haste to make the vision a reality. I reclined my seat and hummed the tunes of some random songs.

"Are we there yet?" I groaned.

"You did not answer my question," Niyi retorted.

I shrugged and looked away. It was amusing to me that the king of surprises did not like being kept in the dark about anything.

He smirked, "If I find out you have been withholding valuable information from me, I will—"

"Ogbeni, Mister, you will do nothing." 

"Babe, I will get you arrested," he said in a seductive voice.

I bit my lip. "The idea of you putting me in handcuffs is actually—"

"Enough, babe. I am driving."

I chuckled and looked away. The tall trees on both sides of the highway and the isolated settlements here and there seemed to go on forever. Smoke drifted into the sky from a industrial estate in the distance. A few vehicles horned and overtook us in their haste.

"We will get there in the next fifteen to twenty minutes," Niyi said with a smile tugging his lips. "Will you feel better if I buy you some popcorn?"

I tapped my chin playfully, "Um, no. Ireke ni mo fe je. Um, no. I want to eat sugarcane."

Both of us laughed for the rest of the journey. Niyi thought my request for sugarcane was childish. Partially, due to the sugary sweetness which runs down your arm when you eat it. Also because you would chew the fibre and spit it out.

"Will you eat spicy fried meat instead?" Niyi chuckled as he drove down a road to the right.

"Yay! I can not wait," I said, bouncing in my seat and playing along with his teasing.

Niyi parked the car shortly afterwards. When I looked out the window, I saw a large, green, one storey building with a tall fence surrounding it. The main gate was made of an elaborate iron design.

"We are here," he said.

"Great."

We got out of the car and strolled towards the huge gate. Hand in hand and with our portable travelling bags on our shoulders. The automated gate opened slowly before we could knock or ring the bell.

I turned to Niyi with both eyebrows raised. "Does he have an ultra modern surveillance system or is he just a spooky person who sees mysterious things?" I whispered with eyes flared for emphasis.

Niyi scoffed, "Look who is talking about a spooky person who sees mysterious things."

"Oh my goodness, you are right," I laughed sofly.

"The two of you should get married already," a hoarse voice interjected. "Look at the way you are holding hands and whispering and gossiping about me at my gate."

Niyi and I burst into embarrassed laughter. He bowed and I knelt to greet the old man, in accordance with the Yoruba custom. The uncanny resemblance he bore to an elderly Anthony Mackie was a peculiar feature of his.

"Baba Orija, this is—"

"Teniola Oyeyinka," the old man concluded with a smile on his face. "It is so nice to finally meet you."

He embraced us with open arms and welcomed us into his residence. "Come in, come in. We have a lot to discuss," he said.