IMASUEN’S PLIGHT : CHAPTER 1 – THE END
By Temi Akintade
Chapter 8
Initially I thought that with the way he was staring at me, he would simply grab me and bed me right there in the sitting room or at least do what a desperate man in need of his wife would do but he simply shifted his gaze from me, and turned on his phone.
I glanced at his phone to see what he was trying to do. True to my curiosity, he went to the videos on his phone, and began to play the po..rno..graphy video he tapped first.
He unbuckled his trouser and began to masturbate right there on the brown leather sofa beside me. It was then I knew that Ebube’s matter was no longer physical. It was a bIoody spiritual battle.
“When did you get to this level? At least you should have some little atom of decency.” I told him.
He ignored me and continued.
With swollen, sad face, I retired into our matrimonial room and laid on the bed. Hadeja’s medicine didn’t work on Ebube.
I shook my head reminding myself about what Hadeja had told me about the medicine. She had told me how that woman most especially women who married into polygamous homes sought for her far and wide just to get that medicine.
She even told me how a woman from northern Nigeria patronized her. I became tired of Senegal as a result and we were just three months into the marriage.
“We will be returning to Nigeria by early April. I booked our flight already.” He said one afternoon after he came back from one of his rendezvous with a mountain climber.
I glared at him. “What if I don’t want to leave.” I blurted out.
He scoffed. “You will. You cannot live here.”
I shook my head as frustration clouded my head. “You do not know me! So stop assuming you know me!” And I almost didn’t want to leave because I fell in love with the culture of the town.
I wanted to stay back, start a business or something but I kept reminding myself that, I wasn’t good at doing anything if I was able to open my eyes, to marry Ebube, then I was not good at anything.
True to his words, I couldn’t stay back in Senegal so I followed him back to Nigeria. At first, I had thought that we will reside in Abuja but I got the shock of my life when we moved to a house he bought at Lekki in Lagos.
But I became relaxed at this because his parents and siblings didn’t visit often as I had imagined.
Three more weeks after my stay in Lagos, I told my husband that I wanted to see my parents.
He wanted to go with me but then, a compulsory business trip to France made him call off the journey.
IMASUEN’S PLIGHT : CHAPTER 1 – THE END
The following day after he traveled, I booked my flight to Abuja and packed a few clothes and some toiletries.
I dialed the driver’s line but it was switched off.
I glanced helplessly at the four exotic cars parked in the garage.
I didn’t know how to drive and it was all Ebube’s fault who insisted that I took to allow my driver to drive me around instead. Now I was almost stranded.
I stood in front of my huge gate beneath the scorching sun when suddenly a red range rover sports car drove past me. And before I could blink my eye, the car pulled back and halted right in front of me.
I squinted, as though I could see past the tinted glass but I couldn’t see the driver.
But a woman stepped out. She was gorgeously dressed in a boubou dress and nice hair. I looked her skin up and down and realized that her dark skin was glittering.
Maybe she was one of those jobless lekki housewives, who would Cruz round town in beautiful dresses as though they had no problem in the world just like her.
“Hello madam?” She said.
I didn’t catch her accent but she looked like she was well-schooled, unlike those local Yoruba women who liked to form posh. Just like the one I met at the mall the previous week who called pressure cooker, mini-bakery.
“Hi?” I glanced at my wristwatch. It was 2 pm my flight was by 3:30 pm. I was running late.
“I’m Morenikeji. I also live here in this estate.” She said, and I almost said glory be to God but I didn’t want to sound rude. “I haven’t seen much of you around.
Did you just move in?” she pointed her perfectly manicured nails at my house. I made a mental note to get my nails done as soon as I get to Abuja.
“Yeah, a month ago.”
“Newlywed?”
I frowned. How did she know? Was it written on my forehead? As if she noticed my hesitation she simply smiled sweetly and said,
“I just guessed. So where are you going to?”
“The Airport.”
“What a coincidence! I’m headed there as well. My husband would be returning from Abuja today.” She ushered me into her car and I followed her not minding the fact that I didn’t know her.
Soon, we drove out of the estate and we were on our way to the Lagos airport. It was while we were in the car that I realized that she was a Christian. A grounded one at that. Because her stereo was turned on and she was listening to different gospel music.
She talked about herself, her husband, and two kids, she talked about her business, and that was when I got to know that she was a business mogul. She said she was into furniture.
“Are you a carpenter? Abi do you do carpentry work?”
She laughed and told me that she had people working for her. soon we got to the airport and when I was about to alight from the car, she told me,
“Take this.” She gave me a flyer. It was a kind of women study group. It had the inscription; ‘Lekki wives prayer group.’ And it had the motto: when wives pray, husbands rise!
“What is this for?” I asked because I wasn’t interested in any other thing that doesn’t have to do with my church.
“I’m inviting you. You see God specially told me to invite you. When I was driving past, he told me to pick you and drop you at the airport and he also told me to tell you that he loves you very much.” She smiled.
“Did he…” I wanted to ask if God had told her about my husband’s case. But I remembered Ebube’s threat and kept mute. “Never mind. Thanks for the invite.” I smiled and stepped out of the car.
I squeezed the flyer and dumped it into my handbag. I love God, and I know that he speaks to men but I wasn’t ready to attend any fellowship outside my church. I was more interested in seeing what Joy has in store for me when I get to Abuja.
As I was checked in, I pulled out my phone and sent a WhatsApp message to Joy.
“I will be in Abuja soon. I hope we will get to see the man today.”
I sighed……
IMASUEN’S PLIGHT : CHAPTER 1 – THE END
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