More Haste: The Marital Trials of Brother Segun

  Back in the sitting room, Segun was still lying on the three-seater. He was lost in thought, oblivious of the darkness that had crept into the room. Visibility was difficult but then his sight was not here but there, in the mind. The silhouette of shapes and figures in the room, imposed by the protracted power cut of Power Holdings, the Nigerian electricity authority, cried for illumination from a lantern at the very least. Segun's mind was too preoccupied. Out of mind. Out of sight.

  ‘Tolu was right. My sullenness is very unpleasant. Not only to others but also to me myself.' He thought.

  He was thinking about the torrents of thoughts that always bedevilled him and sapped his strength dry whenever he was in a sulk.

  No, I won't with my own hands destroy my home. I might not have liked her approach. Her presentation might be rude. But then there's no smoke without fire. I must get to the root of it. But till we have a heart-to-heart, I give her the benefit of the doubt. I'm learning to lean.

  Just then AY walked into the sitting room quietly and carefully. With her right hand she scrambled for the way until the hand came to rest on the arched back of the two-seater. Her hands ran the arch through its length until she got to the far end of the sofa, opposite the kitchen door. She did not bother to call out to her husband. The absence of the lantern light had its usual conclusion; her man had either slept off on the rug or in one of the sofas.

  In the kitchen she located a box of matches and the lantern. She struck four sticks successively and failed. Each time, the reddish brown spark substance produced flame but the attached uncooperative stem stifled it almost immediately.

  ‘Ah! Niger! Nothing is of quality again in Nigeria. Gone are the days of the popular and effective triple-picture match boxes.' She breathed her frustration.

  She was lucky on the fifth attempt. Quickly she suspended the transparent glass globe with the side-lever and torched the lantern's wick with the flame. The globe released. The flame regulated. Something told her to check the blue polystyrene food container. Her eyes popped when she saw the three wraps of eba, a food made from boiled and creamed grains of cassava, intact. She instantly knew she was in for trouble. What has she done wrong. She started some self-probe.

  For some five minutes, her legs would not agree with her heart on presenting herself at the sitting room for the obvious subpoena. Her eyes surveyed the kitchen aimlessly but vigorously, like the proverbial ear-cut thief. At last she summoned up the courage and advanced towards the sofa-and-electronic-gadgetry room, albeit slowly. The light led the way she sluggishly followed. Then she lowered her eyes on the sofa for three. There lay her beloved. He turned in a reflex towards the infiltrating light and his eyes looked horrible when AY zoomed in on them. She has jumped into the river already, fearing the cold now is useless. Though the grim face was highly repellent she drew closer and closer to it. Then she did what she never in her wildest dream thought she would do: she sank to her knees before her cross partner. Her tender hands seduced him to forgive while her mouth quickly laid out her reason.

  ‘Sweetheart, I'm very sorry. It was not intentional. I was having some headache. So, I took Panadol and a nap to help me up.'

  Segun was floored by the explanation. His seething was stilled instantly, like the soup in an aluminium pot. One pleasant thought made a mockery of him.

  ‘Women, so powerful! What is it they want they won't get!'

  He got up, sat up, helped her up and tendered a complementary apology.

  ‘I'm sorry too in any way I've overreacted. I'm again sorry if I've been too harsh on you. We are still learning to understand each other. But it will no go without saying that communication builds a strong home. I wouldn't have felt offended if you had included a sentence or two about your headache in your welcoming words. I would have even forgotten about the food first, come around to the bedroom and stroke your hair. And the anointing in my hand would have cast off the intruding headache.'

  She beamed. ‘I'm sorry sweetheart. I will take note. But it's not too late for the stroking.' She feigned an headache, ‘I'm still feeling the headache.'

  The now love-drunken husband readjusted his posture, like a pastor swinging his shoulders to feel a newly given designer suit.

  ‘Makaru ma tarasmiku!' the man of God was in the spirit as his hands descended on the pick-and-drop braids.

  AY responded promptly like one being delivered; she wriggled and jerked from head to waist.

  ‘Ah! Man of God, I feel like falling!.'

  ‘Maskarururi! Fall! Fall! Fall!'

  He tipped her head and she fell, like a pack of Whot cards, on his lap.

  ‘You are an unusual deliveree; you should fall on your back and not forwards. The presence of your head on my lap is tempting. Get up and let me re-deliver you! Looska!'

  How they both laughed at the well-acted home-grown drama. AY eventually served the eba with okra soup. They ate their fill amidst teasing and pulling of legs. The drama then proceeded to the bedroom. It was a night to remember.

  CHAPTER 7

  One year passed with speed. No bloated face, no protruded tum and no pale skin. AY became worried. Every time she saw her period, her tears flowed along.

  ‘When will I become a mother?'

  Segun could not provide an answer to the incessant question. All he could do was to persuade her. At times, a mild reproof would do:

  ‘Just a year down the line and you shed tears this much. What would Sarah have done after fifty years of marriage and no child. She would have shed blood I suppose. Why will you kill yourself before the child itself comes? You don't need all these. God has not forgotten us. He will give us the fruit of marriage at the appointed time.' He would end up diluting the reproof with a sermon.

  ‘But when is the appointed time?'

  ‘Only God knows that. At any rate I know this: God's plan for us is the best for us.'

  ‘I know too. But why not let us go for a medical checkup so as to know where to direct or re-direct our prayers?'

  ‘I have no problem with that.'

  Tests upon tests followed. Different gynaecologists and infertility experts were visited. The diagnoses and results pointed in one direction: nothing was wrong with them. AY was overwhelmed with the outcome. Faced with the fast approach of the second year, she found the clean bill of health grossly unacceptable. Now that she had run short of ideas, she was compelled to wait for the appointed time.

  * * * * *

  Later in the year the couple had visitors. It was from the woman's side as usual. Segun often had wondered in his bachelorhood days why it had to be those of the wife's side who made the most calls. Reports from his married friends then elicited his quest. And up till the moment he had not yet found a solid answer.

  His mother- and sister-in-law were the visitors. Sade, AY's younger sister was on vacation. She therefore decided to follow her mother down on a stay with the couple. It was the third at the one-and-a-half-year old home. They planned to stay three weeks – the whole hug of Sade's 200 level first semester break.

  In the night of the first day, when the husband and wife had finally retired to their matrimonial chamber from the day's bustle, Segun uncorked the displeasure he had tried hard to bottle away from their guests.

  ‘Why would Mama and Sade come all the way from Ikija to stay with us for not just one or two days but three full weeks without any prior information? In this world of GSM! Or were you informed but failed to tell me?' he queried.

  ‘No, Sweetheart I am as well surprised seeing them. And immediately I registered my disapproval. I most especially rebuffed Sade, who ought to know better, for not making contact with me on phone prior to their coming. Mama tried to explain how they attempted to make the phone contact only to be met with the news of a two-day loss of GSM network signals to the village and its environs. She said she insisted on coming for the visit because her entire being was crying out to see us and she could not bear it any longer. I was still not satisfied with her explanation because I
had at the back of my mind the fear of how you would react to the situation. Mama read my feelings and offered to go back to the village immediately. That floored me. I quickly mellowed and told her it has not gotten to that. And you know what sweetheart?'

  ‘What?' Segun found himself being the respondent.

  ‘I was humbled and relieved at the same time when you came in and received them with unexpected conviviality!'

  ‘Uhmm, grammar!'

  ‘You taught me. Honestly, sweetheart, they, who had sat precariously all the while awaiting your arrival to know their fate, stretched their legs and felt at home when they saw your warmth.'

  She untucked the insecticide-treated mosquito net over the bed at her side and climbed down. She then went on her knees before her ‘head' who had all the while sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Olowo-ori-mi, my sweetest heart, permit me, on behalf of my family, to apologize to you. I know it has not been easy feeding the two of us much less two more mouths coming out of the blue to join the number. For love's sake please bear with us. And the patience comes with an expiry date – three weeks.'

  ‘Please, get up,' he helped her up, ‘I was not angry, only surprised. We have always been well informed of Mama's visits in the past. So I was wondering if all was well when she burst in on us this time around. But it was perplexity all the way when I got to know it was just a three week long chatty call. I tried but in vain to understand the rationale behind this. And the best person to supply the reason is you. And with all your explanation I think Mama's excuse is tenable. Such Mama's passion is a surge that can never wane until it is fed to satiety. What is wrong in a mother's heart crying out for her daughter. The blame in all these goes to the treacherous GSM operators. They only concern themselves with increasing their customer base and making more money. They couldn't care less about improving on their epileptic services. Shame on NCC that could not mete out stiff measures against them. They are just all out to get us ripped off of our hard-earned money. I wish I were NCC Executive Vice-Chairman. I would without delay place a ban on all those useless street promos they stage to rake in more customers and instruct them to rather give those already hooked up to their network value for their money,' he was fuming.

  ‘Aluta continua! The activist in my husband has already taken over.' She feigned a clenched fist and started a mock protest song.

  ‘Solidarity forever

  Solidarity forever

  Solidarity forever

  We shall always fight for our right.'

  Segun laughed over it but he was not done yet. ‘But honestly honey, you can't imagine the kind of havoc these people are wreaking around.'

  ‘You mean like the one having to do with Mama's visit and us?' she had been bought over.

  ‘That's even a drop in the ocean.'

  ‘A hyperbole I suppose?'

  ‘No, no, no, not at all. Are you not aware of the poor GSM services these days wherein your call is misdirected to someone you never know from Adam sometimes speaking a lingo you never hear from the womb.'

  ‘Of course I am. Was it not of recent that my friend, Sayo . . . you know her now! That one that said you were two years her senior in Lantoro High School.'

  ‘Yes, yes. That diminutive lady.'

  ‘That's it. She forgot her phone in her friend's place but thought she had lost it. What heightened her fear was when we called the phone and it was a strongly accented Hausa man who managed to identify himself as Alhaji that picked it. Only on redialing did we discover that the phone was with her friend. Her call had been re-routed to an Alhaji. Since then some of our mischievous friends never cease to tease her, “When next are you going to see Alhaji? Please don't forget your phone there this time around o,” they would say.'

  ‘Honey, your friend's case is better. It only ended in teasing. Let me give you this vivid and lucid case which ended up in a broken home. A nearly five year old marriage ended on the platter of these people's negligence.'

  ‘What!' she suspended the closing of the gaped mouth for minutes.

  ‘The wife's friend was trying to reach her over the phone to extracool at midnight. The husband picked it and it was a male voice he heard at the other end. Meanwhile the friend could not hear anything and her credit burned on. She abruptly terminated the call. But the husband had heard enough. He flared up and said he believed the man must have cut off when he discovered he had been caught in the act. The wife tried in vain to convince him from the call records that it was her friend by the name Sola who called. The long and short of it was that he sent her packing with two kids.'

  ‘Sweetheart! I think the foundational problem in that marriage is distrust.'

  ‘Agreed. But the GSM poor service added petrol to the fire which consumed the relationship whole.'

  AY suddenly assumed the posture of one in deep thought and that did not escape Segun's notice.

  ‘Honey, what is it?'

  ‘Let me not bother you with it. It's not all that important.'

  ‘What do you mean by it's not all that important? I want to hear it.'

  ‘Okay. Promise you won't be cross with me.'

  ‘I promise,' the more eager to know.

  ‘Will you ever trust my explanation if something like that happens to us?'

  ‘Hah-hah! You know now!'

  ‘Eh, I know but I just want to …'

  Segun stopped her mouth with his index finger strapped across her lips and with the other hand stroking her hair he spoke a la their wedding day.

  ‘Yes, I do. I will ever trust and love you. So help me God.'

  Quickly he switched position from the bridegroom to the joining priest and in line made his voice guttural to spell out the adapted creed, ‘Will you, Ayoolape Deborah Oyediran, trust and love Adesegun Peter Toriola as your wedded husband all the days of your life?'

  With sheep's eyes she promptly thinned her voice and responded in a soprano.

  ‘Yes, I do. So help me God!'

  The two faces became radiant and the night caught the light.

  After the marriage act and before sleep finally closed their eyes Segun still found the time to chip in the million-dollar question: ‘Why do the wife's people visit more than the husband's?' and he was stunned with the straightforward answer he got from his wife who responded sharply as if she too had been thinking about if for some time.

  ‘Simple!' She said, ‘Anyone who visits a couple will have more time to spend with the wife, the homemaker, than the husband, the hustler. And who can feel much more at home with the wife than her own people? Chikenah!'

  ‘Uhm! The sage old woman has spoken.'

  Segun put his hands together in low ovation.

  ‘Than-k you m-y s-o-n,' she shook her voice like a very aged woman.

  ‘You are not serious, who is your son? Thou wizened great great grandmother,' he tickled her and the conjoint giggles and laughter turned the night's light up the more.

  CHAPTER 8

  Mama could not complete her holiday. A matter requiring her urgent attention arose in Ikija after two weeks with the Toriolas.

  ‘Ah Mummy, ki lo de!' AY's heart was thumping as she collected her phone back from Mama to terminate the call from the village.

  ‘Kosilaabi o. Ma kaya re soke!' [No problem. Don't give yourself any heartache] Mama assured her daughter. She then went ahead to explain to the two agitated children that it was her kolanut trade that had sent the invitation. Satisfied with the explanation, the two then began making preparations for Mama's travelling. That was Thursday. Mama travelled on Friday. On Saturday, an event took place that sent the other guest to follow on mama's trail before the expiration of her intended length of stay.

  AY had gone out to plait her hair. She was not expected to be back until two hours later. That had been her grouse with the hairdressers in the locality; they were too slow. But then she must dress her hair when due; if not for her own sake at least for her husband's.

  Segun was still in bed though half-awak
e. Twenty minutes after his wife had left for the hairdresser's he felt a supple hand on his bare breast. The tenderness message travelled wildly all over his body. Back so soon? That was what he wanted to instruct his vocal cord to convey through his mouth when on opening his eyes he met a different figure altogether by the bedside. She sat halfway her length from the waist upwards almost nude with only a cleavage-advertising wrapper, loosely tied, on.

  * * * * * *

  Ay could no longer contain her impatience. She had had to wait for twenty minutes for an early bird's hair to be set. Despite the hairdresser's pacifying pleasantness she stood to go instructing the hairdresser to flash when ready for her.

  * * * * * *

  Segun's resistance weakened with the persistent stay of the tender hand on his cold chest and the elegant face in his electrified gaze.

  ‘You sent for me?' beamed the owner of the hand, with winking and goggling accompanying.

  Segun was completely lost. His system was on fire. How could he escape this mountain that had come to Mohamed even when Mohamed never gave it a thought to get to it! His flesh was already caving in. Where was the libido-holding power of his bachelor days that kept him chaste till the wedding night? Or has his first carnal knowledge broken the hold irredeemably? It was no time for question, but action. Blood pumped turbulently into his male machinery. He grabbed her shoulder to commence touchery and her wrapper easily fell. At that instant, a bizarre grace fell on him and what he couldn't do in front of the curtain he did in the full glare of nudity. His inner strength was roused as he came to his senses. He immediately let go. Furrows of anger disfigured his countenance very quickly,

  ‘Get out now!' He shouted at the top of his lungs. And that one hastily covered herself back with her wrap and ran out like a rabid dog. She knew too well that the man had successfully weathered the seduction storm.

  Segun was still panting out the so much adrenalin pumped into his system when AY burst into the bedroom with alarm.

  ‘Sweetheart, what happened? Whom were you shouting at like that!' her eyes, as well as her hands, joined in the demand for an answer.

  Segun gave her the graphical details. Message decoded, it was now AY's turn to take the baton of tantrum.