The Weekend Love That Could Never Last

I was assigned to Kumasi for my National Service. Every weekend, I had to travel back to Accra for a program I was attending.

My boss introduced me to a woman who made the journey from Kumasi to Accra almost every weekend. So, I began to ride with her, and we would both head to Kumasi together. Initially, it felt awkward—two strangers confined in the cramped space of a Toyota Camry, with little to say to each other.

One day, she asked, “Do you know how to drive?” Before I could finish saying yes, she took off and handed me the keys. That day, she slept the entire way while I drove. Upon reaching Accra, she said, “I hardly use this car when I’m in Accra. Just drop me off at home, and you can take the car back. Then, pick me up on Sunday so we can return to Kumasi together.”

This arrangement became our routine. Every weekend, I would drop her off at her place and then take the car home.

On December 24th, with work on break for Christmas, we were en route to Accra when she asked, “Do you think I’m too old to find a boyfriend?” I replied, “No one is too old for love. Besides, you’re beautiful and youthful; if you put yourself out there, someone will definitely notice you.”

We engaged in a deep conversation about true love, how to find it, and where to look. At one point, there was a palpable tension between us, as if a single move from either of us could change everything. I was just a boy—only 23—while she was a woman in her late 30s or early 40s. I felt I couldn’t make a move until she did.

From that moment on, we became lovers. I didn’t go home for Christmas; it was just the two of us—free and together. She prepared delicious meals, surprised me with gifts, and loved me in her own way. We went to the movies, shopped, and exchanged gifts with her money. She remarked, “Suddenly, I feel young again. This is what I should have done when I was eighteen or nineteen, but I was a good girl. Look at me now.”

We enjoyed our time together until work resumed, forcing us to return to Kumasi. When I dropped her off there, she said, “This won’t lead us anywhere, no matter how long we want to keep this going. It’s sad, but even if we wish to stay like this forever, society won’t allow it.” My confident self replied, “Forget about society. It’s us now, and that’s what matters most.”

We remained true to ourselves and continued our relationship. When the week became challenging, I looked forward to the joy the weekend would bring. I knew for certain that the weekend would arrive, that I would sit beside her in the car, our bodies brushing against each other, that I would drop her off at her house and spend some time with her before heading home, and that I would drive her back to Kumasi, where she might sleep the entire way.

These moments kept me motivated and made my National Service experience fulfilling, even as others complained about hardships. One day, I asked her, “When would you like me to introduce you to my parents?” She replied, “Introduce me to your parents when you want this to end.”

—Martin