Am I dreaming? My body remained motionless, the feeling of me presenting my manifesto to the entire student Union, National Union of Ghana Student, I moaned.
I opened my eyes, my skin still tingling. The mattress on the other side of the floor was warm, I knew very well the woman who had come to support me was on the mattress by my side but she was not responding.
I’m dreaming, Akua Asantewaa, I called thought as she opened her eyes. She sat up. The room was decorated with white interior tiles, all lace and antiques— Kpogas finest suite. Her overnight cloth was in the middle of the hardwood floor, scattered on the floor was the saucers we had used previously for the biscuits.
Her NUGS attire on a Plexiglas structure where the laptop and the banners were placed in a peaceful mood beside the chair I had earlier sat on to have had the wine with her. Had I really had slept that far? I had memories—my body again etched with approaching her with soft kisses.
Akua Asantewaa turned to the other side of the floor where she had spent the night with me. There was an empty bottle of champagne, two glasses . . . and a note.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her palm, Akua Asantewaa drew the comforter around her soft African body and read the message on the note:
She turned to where I sat. Her encounter with the note had made her increasingly anxious about our safety. Her imagination was running wild.
“So,” I spouted from her back. “What does this mean?”
Akua ignored the comment and relaxed back on the mattress as she focused her eyes on the ceiling as if she was communicating with the wooden design.
Damn! Akua thought. “My father was once teaching me how to deal with messages like these”
“You seem uptight,” I said innocently. “Having trouble with your refusal to listen to your father’s instructions to learn how to decode messages like these?”
“Nothing serious,” she replied. But Akua wasn’t so sure. She wondered if I really knew the worth of messages that came in this form.
She took her laptop and began scanning the long lines of software’s her father had asked her to install, searching for anything that could be holding things up.
Edward came closer to her and observed her smugly. “Hey, I meant to ask you,” he ventured. “What do you make of that unbreakable message on the note there?”
“I’m sorry to trouble you again,” I said approaching sheepishly.
“I’m being a bit of a fool, I know. I was hoping to tell you personally how much I enjoyed our time together. But I’m not feeling happy right now over your sudden interest in the piece of note you have in your hands, why do you always want to get involved in something that does not make any sense”.“Perhaps, you remember perfectly how we came by this note yesterday” I concluded.
Akua got surprised now “do you know what this message can do to your intentions of running for the NUGS president.
I felt off balanced.
I did not know what to do next, someone was trying to play down my chances of winning the NUGS presidency. But many students knew I was not having any political backing, so I did not understand why someone had scattered messages across that I had taken money from a political party.
Standing and pushing my shirt into the trousers I wore, I looked at Akua with shocking eyes and a disbelieving mood.
Moving to the door that led to the main exit of the room, I turned and stared at her, looked down and turn towards the door and left.
She couldn’t believe what was happening between her and her trustees; they had actually betrayed her by leaking such information out, which could easily jeopardize the chances of me winning the NUGS elections.
Although she felt a little relieve over the fact that, behind every successful man was a woman, she was also convinced that behind every failing man was a woman with a lot of hidden agenda, for her, she would not be like the people who give up when they are failing because she was no more scared of the consequences.
Source: Victor Brachie
(http://www.myjoyonline.com/opinion/2014/april-1st/a-short-story-beginning-of-nugs-agenda.php?fb_action_ids=737778966267501&fb_action_types=og.recommends)
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