Love Is Not Blind

BY GOODNEWS ANDREW ERUEMUARE

Love is not blind.
At least, not in every lexicon.

The world is a library of meanings, and what you call blindness might be clear vision in another man’s dictionary. The proverb “love is blind” is one of those phrases that sound universal but are deeply personal.

Juliana, the Igbo lady from Onitsha, believed she could outwit Obele Asheshe, the notorious Warri commando whose name alone made grown men shiver. To her, men were pawns, stepping stones on the jagged road to her ambition. She had beauty, and she knew it. She had curves sculpted like river waves, lips that dripped honeyed poison, and the confidence of a woman who had seen weak men crumble at the mere promise of her touch.

She thought Obele would be no different.

Their story began in a haze of neon lights, loud laughter, and sweaty bodies at a lounge tucked somewhere in the belly of Warri. A one-night stand had sealed their encounter. But to Juliana, a night was never enough. She wanted more not of Obele’s affection, but of his wallet.

Weeks later, with feigned sweetness coating her words, she dropped her demand:
“Obele, darling, I need two million naira. I want to start up a business. You’re a big man. That shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

Her voice was sugary, but her eyes were calculating.

Obele stared at his phone, reading the message twice. He muttered to himself, his deep Warri accent colouring every syllable:
“Do I really look like a Mugu to this small girl? She wan dey use me play draft? Is she aware how I singlehandedly handle the terrorist Obotigbene when even soldiers dey fear? Does she even know na me wey hold Udu Bridge make am still dey stand till today? Or maybe she no sabi say I be godfather to Wike the Emperor? Hmmm… make I just let this slide.”

He scratched his chin and laughed bitterly. “Instead make I dash her two million, I go take that same money buy dogs. At least dogs dey loyal. I hate wetin I no like.”

His conclusion was final.

But Juliana was not a woman to be ignored. The next ping on his WhatsApp nearly made him choke on his laughter:
Juliana: “I’m blocking you if by tomorrow evening I don’t get the two million I requested. I hate stingy men.”

Obele burst into a laughter so raw, so reckless, it sounded like the wail of a lunatic on the streets of Warri. His voice boomed, echoing through his compound until even the stray dogs barked in confusion.

To him, this was not just a demand. It was comedy.

The Commando’s Philosophy

Obele Asheshe was no ordinary man. Warri knew him, feared him, whispered his name in beer parlours and motor parks. He was a commando, not by military commission, but by the battles life had forced on him. He had fought street wars, survived ambushes, and stood toe-to-toe with men who thought they were gods.

He was the kind of man who measured love not in roses or serenades, but in loyalty, respect, and a keen awareness of reality. To him, love was not blind. Love had eyes, sharp, discerning eyes that must see through deception, greed, and pretence.

Juliana’s request, to him, was not just opportunistic, it was insulting.

He sat in his chair that night, swirling a bottle of Hero beer, and reflected on the tragedy of modern love.
“These girls no wan love again,” he muttered. “Na transaction dem dey run. Love wey no get eyes go carry man enter gutter. Love wey no sabi look left and right go leave you empty. But me? My love get eyes like eagle. Sharp. I no dey fall for scam.”

Juliana’s Counterplot

On the other side of the city, Juliana was equally determined. To her, Obele was a challenge. She had heard whispers about his wealth, his influence, his dark past filled with victories and scars. If she could conquer him, her name would ring in the same bars and markets that sang his praises.

She told her roommate, Amaka, with a sly smile:
“That Warri man go pay. Na just small pressure remain. If he no gree, I go shame am online. I know how to make men dance.”

Amaka shook her head. “Juli, you dey play with fire. Dem dey call that man ‘commando’ for reason. Better hold your lane.”

But Juliana laughed, flipping her braided hair. “Fire dey cook food. Na who sabi how to use am dey chop.”

The Clash

The next evening, Obele waited. He expected the ultimatum to expire, expected her threats to unfold. And indeed, Juliana struck.

Her WhatsApp status read:
“Some men are demons in disguise. They waste your time, sleep with you, and refuse to support your dreams. Stingy goats!”

She did not mention his name, but the shade was too clear. Their mutual acquaintances began to whisper. Screenshots flew across groups. Obele’s name was attached in hushed tones.

When the news reached him, Obele did not flare up. Instead, he smiled the smile of a hunter who had seen a rabbit walk into a trap.

He called her number. She picked after the third ring.

“Juliana,” he said calmly, “you dey try me. But you forget say na only foolish man dey argue with pig inside mud. Tomorrow, I go send my driver make e drop package for you.”

Her heart leapt. Victory! She believed she had broken the commando.

The Package

The next day, a black SUV pulled up in front of Juliana’s hostel. The driver, a stern-faced man, stepped out and handed her a large carton sealed with tape.

“This na from Oga,” he said and left.

Juliana rushed inside, her heart pounding with excitement. She tore open the carton, expecting bundles of cash. But what greeted her eyes froze her blood.

Inside were three puppies: Rottweilers, strong and restless, their eyes sharp as daggers. A note lay on top of the box:

“These dogs will give you better business than the nonsense you dey talk. Take care of them. Love is not blind. Obele Asheshe.”

Juliana screamed in frustration, throwing the note against the wall.

Amaka burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “I tell you! I warn you! You no dey hear word! You don go collect dog instead of money!”

But Juliana was too furious to laugh. Her pride had been crushed.

Love with Eyes

Days turned into weeks, and the story spread. Warri was entertained. Some mocked Juliana, some praised Obele. But the moral of the tale lived longer than the gossip.

Obele became a symbol of resistance against transactional love. Men quoted his words in beer parlours:
“Love no dey blind. Love dey see. Na eyes go save you from disgrace.”

Even women began to debate. Some said Juliana was only chasing survival, that men with money owed society the responsibility to uplift women. Others said she was greedy, reckless, and deserving of the commando’s lesson.

Obele, however, cared little about the chatter. To him, the episode was another reminder that life was a battlefield. And in battle, you must never fight blind.

Epilogue

Months later, Juliana quietly left Warri. Her dreams of quick wealth crumbled like a pack of cards. Obele, on the other hand, built a thriving kennel business in addition to his legendary reputation. His dogs became the most sought-after in the region, guarding homes, businesses, and even political rallies.

And whenever people asked him about Juliana, he would chuckle and reply:
“My brother, love is not blind. Na only those wey close eye dey see blindness.”

 

Goodnews Andrew Eruemuare (SIR A-ONE), weaver of words, poet, storyteller, essayist, & the voice behind “Speak Up Quotes.”