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The Lens of Pain.




June 12th, I received a call from a client for a pre-wedding shoot, an opportunity to capture the joy and anticipation of a couple's special day. Like in every other case, I had promised to deliver excellence to sell my craft.

At about 3:45 pm, I hailed a cab to the iconic Four Stars by Sheraton, Ikot Ekpene, a majestic edifice that befits such an important moment in the life of would-be couples. 

One thing I love about photography is that it gives one the opportunity to create memories while being part of it, firsthand.

As I arrived, rain started to drizzle, casting a romantic spell over the surroundings, and this was a few minutes past the hour of 4 pm.

I dialed my client, and a voice filled with excitement answered, "Reuben, we've been waiting for you, where are you?"

"I'm at the hotel reception, where are you guys?" I queried.

"Tell the receptionist you are heading to room 114, second floor, and please be fast about it; my fiancée is getting anxious here," he responded.

As the call ended, I beamed a smile. "Who am I to ruin such an important moment in someone's life?" I smiled wryly as I made my way to the elevator. Within a few seconds, the elevator signaled an end to the corridor of the second floor of the most sought-after hotel in Akwa Ibom State.

From the Italian marble floor and beautifully set decor carefully placed at strategic positions to give it a Western look, one could agree it was indeed a place for young intended couples to create their memories. 

With carefulness, perhaps not to act unprofessionally, I called my client instead of knocking on the door. A few seconds later, the door was opened, and a good-looking, well-dressed dude popped up to usher me into what was to be my nightmare. 

"Honey, the photographer is here," the groom-to-be said to a young woman seated facing the table-size mirror hanging a few meters away from the seaters. The bride turned, smiled as she rearranged the beads adorning her necklines.

I couldn't believe what I saw at first. It was as if I was daydreaming. I was motionless like I had seen a ghost. My upper lip parted, agape. When our eyes met, Mary looked unfazed, smiling like she didn't recognize me. I stood pale, my mind wrestling with many thoughts.

At first, I thought it was a prank, something that had become a trend, but I was wrong. I couldn't take my eyes off her for a moment till Tony, which I got to know was the name of the groom-to-be, noticed the look on my face and asked what was wrong. I faked a smile and told him I was alright.

"Hi Reuben, sorry I should have told you before recommending you for this job," Mary said with a soft voice. Her tone never reflected my reality. "Meet my fiancé, Tony," she added, and awkward silence followed.

When I regained my composure, I joked a smile back at her and extended my hands to Tony with an introduction, who perhaps didn't know what was going on.

 "Honey, do you guys know each other that well?" Tony asked with genuine curiosity.

"Yes, baby. Reuben is a very good photographer and an old friend," she said, as her words cut deep. "That's why I had to recommend him for this special moment," she added with a grimace smile paving the way for her gap tooth.

At this point, I knew I was facing harsh reality. This wasn't a prank; my girlfriend was getting married, and she had picked me to capture my own pain. It was the worst moment of my life as I was caught between being professional and allowing emotions to take a better part of me.

I forced a smile, directed them on the best positions for the shoot. At some point, I asked Tony, the groom-to-be, to hold the waist of my girlfriend, and my lens captured my pains...

I'm Reuben Ekang, and this is my story.


Patrick Ekong ©️


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