Christiana and Shamwil: The Love that Death Could not Kill
By Shamwil (Justice)
It all began in Sabon Gari Market, Kano, inside our small but busy pharmaceutical shop, Kuka Medicals. That afternoon was bright and dusty, filled with the usual noise of traders calling out prices and customers bargaining for goods.
I was behind the counter, arranging boxes of medicines, when she walked in, Christiana. I never imagined that moment would change the rest of my life. She was dressed simply, yet there was something about her that captured attention instantly. Her presence was calm, graceful, and confident.
When our manager called me to write her sales invoice, I didn’t think much of it. But as I wrote her name on the receipt and looked up, our eyes met for the first time. A strange spark passed between us, silent yet powerful, one that words could never describe.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly. “Shamwil”, I answered. Her voice was clear and warm, the kind that stays in your mind long after you’ve heard it. I told her, and she repeated it slowly, as if she wanted to remember it forever. Then I asked for hers, and she said, “Christiana.” The name itself felt like poetry when she said it.
We spoke briefly about medicines, antibiotics, syrups, and how counterfeit drugs were becoming a problem in the market. I was amazed by how much she knew. She talked with the precision of a trained pharmacist, mentioning drug names, compositions, and even the companies that produced them. Our manager watched her with admiration, nodding in respect. That day, I realised she was not only beautiful but also incredibly brilliant.
When she finished shopping, she smiled, waved at me, and left. That simple wave stayed with me for days. Her scent lingered in the air, soft, pure, and unforgettable. That night, I found myself thinking about her voice and the calm expression in her eyes. I didn’t realise then, but a new chapter of my life had just begun.
Weeks passed before I heard from her again. One evening, my phone rang with an unknown number. I picked it up, and there it was, that same gentle voice. “You didn’t expect me to call, did you?” she said, laughing softly. That first call lasted for hours. From that day on, Christiana became a part of my daily life. We talked every day, laughed together, and shared stories that slowly tied our hearts closer. What began as a friendship soon turned into real, deep, and pure love.
Christiana was unlike anyone I had ever known. She had a beauty that didn’t depend on makeup and a confidence that didn’t need pride. Her skin was smooth and glowing, her height perfect, her movements graceful like flowing water. Her voice was calm and musical, and her pointed nose gave her face an angelic glow. Everything about her was elegant and natural. She was the kind of woman who didn’t need to try to be special; she simply was.
Our love grew stronger with each passing day. We called each other every morning and night, exchanged sweet messages, and dreamed about the future. Sometimes she visited me at the shop, bringing food or simply sitting beside me while we talked about life. Time always flew whenever she was around. She made everything around me feel peaceful and alive.
But love, as beautiful as it was, came with its battles. When her parents found out about us, their reaction was harsh and painful. To them, I was not good enough. I was a poor Hausa Muslim boy, and she was their only daughter, an Igbo Christian from a wealthy family. They couldn’t accept our love. They called her names, scolded her, and forbade her from seeing me again. Yet Christiana refused to give up. She told them love has no tribe, no religion, and no boundary. Her father stopped speaking to her for months, but she remained strong, fearless, and loyal.
Christiana’s love was the purest I’d ever known. She cared for me when I was sick, worried whenever I didn’t answer her calls, and even risked sneaking out at night just to see me for a few minutes. We would stroll quietly under the streetlights of Sabon Gari, talking about our dreams, the home we’d build, the children we’d raise, and the life we’d live together. I believed we had forever. I believed nothing could come between us. But life has a way of breaking even the strongest hearts.
I never thought Christiana could die for my love. The news came like thunder in a clear sky. Death took her suddenly, without warning, without mercy. The moment I heard it, I felt something inside me collapse. The world went silent. My hands went cold. I couldn’t breathe. The love of my life was gone, just like that.
Even now, I can still hear her laughter in my mind, smell her perfume in the air, and see her smile in my dreams. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night thinking she’s still alive, that she’ll call, that she’ll visit, that I’ll see her walk through the shop door again. But every morning reminds me that she is gone, forever.
Christiana didn’t just leave me; she took a part of me with her. She left behind love, memories, and silence, the kind of silence that breaks a man from the inside. Love can be the sweetest thing on earth, but it can also be the most painful. Christiana was both my blessing and my heartbreak. She was the light that entered my life, and the darkness that refused to leave when she passed away!
I will never stop speaking and penning about you, Christiana. History will be so kind to you!
Shamwil (Justice) wrote via ibrahimshamawilu@gmail.com.
