Story for tonight..
Throughout the one hour, twenty minutes flight back to Accra, Opoku sat still in his seat, but his mind was anything but calm.
Vicky. Her name echoed endlessly in his thoughts.
He stared out of the aircraft window as the clouds drifted by, but he saw nothing. Every few seconds, a strange chill ran down his spine — the kind that comes when something pleasantly unexpected enters a person’s life.
He could hardly believe himself.
An unusual woman:
Opoku arrived Accra by 10:07 am, precisely 1h:20 minutes after boarding from Lagos. He could not take his mind off Vicky throughout the flight.
He would normally read inflight journals or have a nap especially after a night vigil but this morning was different. “Vicky’s energy, her prayer pattern, intelligent discussions, hearty laughter and indeed an unusual beauty,” he sighed. “How could any man overlook those ? She is simply phenomenal” He made for his cell phone countless times midair to call but of course, there was no signal.
Could Vicky be thinking of him the way he was her ? He really wished she was. The aircraft finally descended toward Kotoka International Airport. As the plane touched down and began taxiing along the runway, he could no longer hold back. As soon as he stepped out of the aircraft, he hurried to the baggage claim area to avoid tarmac noises and put a call across to her.
He quickly typed a message.
“Hi Vicky. Just landed safely in Accra. Thank you for the beautiful time we shared today. I hope you got home safely.” Not done, he he pressed the call button.
Vicky watched the phone ring for a short while before answering. ‘Opoku must not think I am desperate,’ she thought to herself.
Staying calm:
“Hi beautiful”, Opoku said in his calmest voice.
“Oh, Hi, have you landed ?”
“Yes, Just arrived, thought I should check that you are fine and that you got home safely. Is it a good time to talk”
“Oh, sure. Thanks, I got home safely and I’m doing good. What about you ?”
“I’m fine, just missing you,” Opoku answered.
“Me too”
“What would you be doing this weekend ?”
“Well, sleeping off the vigil hangover today, gym later in the evening, spa and hairdressing salon after and of course church nearly all day tomorrow.”
“Can I ask that you send me pictures of you at the gym and after the salon ?”
“Sure, I will,” Vicky answered chuckling.
“You know I love to hear you laugh”
“Really ? Thanks.”
Missing Vicky:
Similar phone calls continued for the next 14 days with either of them looking forward to the next phone call. Opoku wished he could keep the conversations going for 24 hours everyday. Vicky avoided initiating the calls as much as possible even if she desperately wanted to. She must not give away her true feelings having suffered too many disappointments and heartbreaks.
Opoku pleaded with her to initiate the calls sometimes but she made sure that was sparsely done. He called at least twice a day, spending most of his quiet moments reminiscing and dreaming about her. Vicky felt the same but struggled to avoid showing it in their phone discussions. Each of them frequently felt cold chills and pangs of joy whirl up inside at the thought of the other. Opoku never felt this way for any woman. “What is going on ?” he asked himself.
Within 2 weeks, he bought a ticket to Lagos. His mum and colleagues kept asking reasons for his recent excitement and unusual attention to his looks and clothing. He laughed it all off and preferred to keep his reasons under wraps for now
Opoku had met many women in his life — far too many, in fact. The moment most discovered who he truly was, their attitudes changed. Their voices softened, their laughter became exaggerated, their attention desperate. It always repulsed him. Women pursued him, not the other way around. But Vicky was different. Even after he revealed his identity, she remained calm, almost amused. She spoke to him normally, even casually — as though he were just another young man she had met at church. That alone shook him.
A Visit to Afua:
Once outside the airport, Opoku instructed his driver firmly. “Take me to Afua’s house.”
Afua was not just his cousin; she was the only person he trusted with his deepest thoughts. Growing up together had created a bond that felt more like siblings than relatives.
When he arrived, she took one look at his face and laughed.
“What happened to you?” she asked. “You look like a man who just discovered treasure.”
Opoku sat down and began talking — fast, excited, almost breathless.
He described the Holy Ghost Festival of the Redeemed Christian Church of God in Lagos. He described the service. And then he described Vicky.
Her calm confidence.
Her laughter.
Her simplicity.
Afua listened carefully, smiling.
When he finished, Opoku pulled out his phone and made a transfer.
800,000 Ghanaian cedis.
Afua’s eyes widened.
“What is this for?” she asked.
“Buy jewellery,” Opoku said. “Italian gold. And Ghanaian gold too. You’re the only one who knows what a stylish lady would love.” Afua shook her head slowly, still smiling.
“You are finished,” she teased.
But Opoku didn’t care.
His excitement was unmistakable.
A Change Everyone Noticed:
Later that evening, Opoku drove to the Jubilee House, the presidential palace where his parents lived. He greeted his mother warmly and sat with her at a corner of the living room where he was sure nobody could evesdrop.
Soon, he found himself recounting his trip to Lagos — though the story kept circling back to one person. Vicky.
His mother noticed the glow in his eyes immediately.
Something had changed.
The quiet, controlled son she knew so well now spoke with an unusual enthusiasm. There was a lightness in his voice she had never heard before.
Later that evening, she quietly mentioned it to her husband.
“I think our son has met someone.”
“Hmmmm. I noticed something about him too. He’s become more friendly and a little too excited,” President Kufor said.
Meanwhile, the palace staff had their own observations.
Opoku, who usually greeted them politely but briefly, was suddenly cheerful, generous, and unusually talkative.
Even more surprising, he began giving out unexpected amounts of money to several staff members that day. By evening, the entire household was whispering about it.
“Something has happened to him,” one attendant said.
A Long Week
When Opoku finally returned to his own residence that night, the silence of the house felt strange. He sat down and looked again at his phone.
He wanted to call Vicky. Every minute.
But he restrained himself.
Instead. He didn’t want to seem like a nuisance. He replayed the short voice notes he secretly recorded of their interactions earlier in the day. Each time he listened, a smile crept across his face.
Her voice was warm. Calm. Unpretentious.
The next few days felt unusually long.
Opoku rescheduled meetings, postponed official engagements, and quietly rearranged his schedule. One week. That was all he would wait.
Finally, the following Thursday evening, he contacted the Ghana High Commission in Nigeria.
“I will be in Lagos tomorrow,” he told the officer.
“Please arrange accommodation for me.”
“Certainly, sir,” the official replied.
“There is a hotel in Lekki Phase 1 not far from the location you mentioned.”
“Perfect,” Opoku said.
He smiled to himself as he ended the call.
By this time tomorrow…
He would be back in Lagos.
And hopefully…
Back with Vicky.
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