Not So Happily Married …. Episode Six

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How stupid you are Omoboye, how stupid. How did you let this girl do this to you? But you have a brain right? Don’t you? You can think for yourself Omoboye, can’t you? I asked myself those questions in quick succession as I read Boladale’s messages.

She had put a crying symbol after I said she wouldn’t dare get pregnant.

“Boye, please I am sooooooooory. In fact I am dying here bits by bits.”

“Die quick bitch” I thought surprising myself. I wasn’t going to say a word to her again, I was sure of that. The rage I felt was like nothing I ever thought I could feel.

“Omoboye, my life is messed up. The guy I’m pregnant for is a colleague and he is married. We just had a one night stand and we used protection, I don’t just understand what happened.”

“Yes, bitches never understand.” I wanted to say; instead I switched off the phone.

“She must pay.” I muttered under my breath remembering how she had been the one to start it all when Mope – our other friend got pregnant. It shouldn’t have been our concern or even mine and at that moment I cursed Blackberry and the opportunity it provides for meaningless discussions to happen. She had been the one to send me a message that Mope was pregnant. I hadn’t seen anything wrong in it as long as the father was ready to marry her but she had insisted that it was wrong and selfish of Mope, that she had been too desperate and must have intentionally gotten pregnant just so the man could marry her.

I had been reluctant to judge and had simply said; it’s not a big deal as long as the guy marries her.

“No, he is not marrying her.” Bola had announced. She had added that she didn’t feel any pity for Mope and I shouldn’t also. Fool that I am, I had gone with her to Mope’s place a week later and instead of providing her with succor, I had joined in lecturing her on how it was bad to be pregnant out of wedlock. You would think I was a virgin with the way I had acted all sanctimonious delivering my lecture. I had told her how I believe a woman can decide when or when not to get pregnant and that it was such an insecure thing to trap a man with pregnancy.

As expected, it had been a big problem when I got pregnant myself, how do I face the same people and announce that I was pregnant. Wouldn’t I look like a hypocrite? And so I had decided to terminate the pregnancy. It sounded like the easy way.

Sitting there and looking at the phone in my hand, I told myself it would have been easier to apologize to my friends for being a hypocrite and let them know I was pregnant. Isn’t that what Bola is doing now? I asked myself.

“I am a joke.” I muttered ignoring the circles Jite was drawing on my shoulders. Bola’s situation was even worse, yet she is having her baby while I had aborted a baby whose father was ready to marry me.

“Baby what’s wrong; you are not looking too happy?” Jite said turning my face towards him.

“Jite, Bola is pregnant.”

“She is?” “That should be good news.” “Aren’t you happy for her?”

“I am it’s just that the father is married.”

“Oops! That’s a tricky one and wrong too but don’t forget she is a grown woman and is responsible for her decisions so that shouldn’t make you feel down.”

“Yes.” I replied absentmindedly.

I had a sudden urge to tell Jite everything but I was sure it would be a bad idea. So I decided it had to be the secret I will carry to my grave.

I resolved to concentrate on getting pregnant and at the same time look for a way to make Boladale pay.

____

We left few minutes later. I had lost interest in everything and just wanted to leave the beach and set the plan forming in my mind in motion. It was simple, give an overdue apology.

We entered the room; there was a note on the freshly made bed. “Dinner at 7” it read. I checked the time; 6.05pm. Time enough to do this I thought slipping out of my beach wear.

Jite’s back was turned to mine; he was trying to remove his wristwatch.

I went down on both knees and held this leg.

“Baby, what’s this? Why are you kneeling?” He asked turning to face me.

“Please Jite, let me remain this way. I need to be on my knees, I want to ask for your forgiveness.”

“Fine, but please stand up and put on your clothes.”

“No, Jite let me be like this. Please indulge me, please my husband.”

“Okay Omoboye, but I don’t like you kneeling like this before me; it makes me feel like I am maltreating you.”

“You are not Jite. I just want to say some things. I might sound stupid, in fact I think I would sound stupid, but allow me and please don’t laugh. Please.”

He nodded and so I began;

                                                              ” Before you, Jite,

                                                               before your blessed presence,

                                                               naked I kneel…

                                                               a prodigal…

                                                               lost in your love…”

                                                                         An aching prodigal,

                                                                        kneeling at your feet

                                                                        An aching prodigal,

                                                                 Who would make miracles

                                                               To understand the simple given

I was so afraid he would laugh, but he didn’t. He just pulled me up when I was done and hugged me hard.

“Christopher Okigbo; Heaven’s Gate.” He said simply, pulling back to look into my eyes.

I nodded. black_love_art_2~~element286

“Jite I am sorry, with all of my heart soul and body. I am sorry. I truly regret aborting that child.”

The tears were streaming down, it was easy to cry, I was feeling real pain. The anger and thirst for revenge forgotten for the moment.

****

She is so beautiful. It was the only thing I thought of as I looked into her eyes, she wasn’t looking at mine, she just kept murmuring about how sorry she was. I felt my heart ache.

“It’s okay baby. Please stop crying. I am also sorry for how I have been. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have been that hard on you. I am sorry.”

“Jite its okay, I deserve everything that happened.”

“No, Boye you don’t. Love forgives all, I should have forgiven you and I had no excuse for cheating on you. I am so sorry about that, please forgive me. I promise to cut all ties with Bisade. I won’t even wave to her if you don’t want…”

“Sshhhhh”, she said looking into my eyes. “It’s okay Jite. I forgive you.” But I won’t forgive Bisade. I added under my breath.

I was relieved; it felt good to finally admit that I was wrong. She pressed her body to mine and I rubbed her bare back.

“Boye, we should still have some minutes before dinner right?”

She didn’t answer, she only nodded.

“How about putting that time to good use.”

“How about skipping dinner altogether.” She replied.

“Skip dinner ke, baby you would need that food oo because I intend to exercise my right as a husband this night and I must warn you it might be a bit exerting.”

“I can’t wait Jite.”

Much later, after we had made love for what seemed like the hundredth time, she asked a question;

“Jite, do you still have the condoms?”

“Baby, don’t tell me you are now addicted to those things, just when I was thinking we should get you pregnant.”

She smiled then running her fingers through my hair.

“Would you forgive me if I said I gave it out knowing this Island would hate such things?”

“No baby, I won’t forgive you I will have to punish you for that.” I added claiming her lips.

*****

He still snores, I thought with a smile as I removed his hand from where it lay possessively on my chest. I was so happy I could actually forget that I needed to deal with Boladale and Bisade, only I wasn’t going to. It didn’t matter that I did not know how to go about it or what exactly to do, I just knew I had to find a way. It’s the only way I will feel less like a fool. I ran a hand over my flat stomach wondering if I could be pregnant already. It amazed me how something that I had never bothered about was suddenly so important.

My mind went to the previous night and how the Jite I knew had re-appeared.

“Why did it take me so long to apologize?”

It was a question I found hard to answer. Perhaps I am a proud person after all I reasoned wondering why I had always seen myself as humble.

To think I kept telling God I was sorry, asking him to forgive me while neglecting the human I wronged.

My husband was here and it was major. My heart constricted with love as I remembered how during one of the bouts of sleep that we had during the night I had stood up to use the toilet. He must have woken up and realized I wasn’t there. It was his voice that brought me out of the toilet.

“Baby, Sweets where are you?”

I had been out in a flash, alarmed at his tone.

“Jite, I am here what is it?.” I asked as he wrapped me in a warm hug.

“I woke up, I didn’t see you, and I was worried.”

“Worried how? What could possibly happen to me here?” I had asked my heart glad at being so loved.

“Nothing. Baby. Nothing will happen to my wife, now let’s go back to the bed.”

I still wanted to use the toilet but I didn’t have the heart to say so. Not with the way he held me.

The shrill sound of Jite’s phone broke into my thoughts and also reminded me that my phone was still switched off.

“Baby, check who is calling”, Jite said in a very sleepy voice.

“Oga when will you stand up or we are not going out today?” I asked walking to the table where the phone was.

He mumbled something that was quite in coherent.

“The caller’s name is Skipper.” I said shrugging as I heard his snoring become renewed.

See, I am not the type of girlfriend or wife that checks her husband’s messages or go through his call history and so I would never have seen the message if Jite hadn’t installed an SMS flasher on his phone.

Just one word caught my attention before the message disappeared; “Sweetheart”. My first thought was who the heck was calling my husband sweetheart and then I went to the inbox to check the message. It was from the person that had called earlier; Skipper.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk as soon as you get back, there is a big problem on my hands here and you are the only one that can help with it. I Love you.”

“Sweetheart”, “problem”, “only one”, “Love you”; words that stuck out and brought a dull ache to my temple. “Who is Skipper?” I muttered under my breath; a memory dancing on the fringes of my mind. There was something about that word, “skipper” that was familiar only I couldn’t place it. I knew I would remember if I put my mind to it but first I deleted the message and the call record.

Not So Happily Married….. Episode Five

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“Paradise.” Jite said as soon as the airplane landed on Pemba Island.

“Baba Paradise.” I agreed.

I felt energised as I breathed in the air. I began to take pictures; the last six hours completely forgotten. Apart from the five hour flight from Lagos to Zanzibar, it had taken another thirty minutes flight from Stone Town airport to get to the island. I was tired but didn’t want to miss a thing and so I snapped away.

We took a taxi from the airport and got to our lodge after another fifteen minutes. I knew then that it was a fact that the most beautiful places on earth are usually the hardest to get to.

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The house we rented was exactly as advertised. One of the first things I saw was the terraced garden that had made me fall in love with the house when we were booking and then the outdoor pool and the reclining chairs beside it.

“Heaven!” I exclaimed linking my hand with Jite’s.

Our hosts; the owners of the house met us at the door.  They were there with their staff and gave us a very warm welcome. We were immediately offered refreshing cocktails made inside Pine apple shells. I was  so thrilled. pineapple

The room was so beautiful it seemed surreal. The bed hangings, lamps and cushions were all Morrocan. It was also painted Lavender; my favorite colour and smelled of spices.

Jite relaxed almost immediately we entered the Island and by the time we entered our room, he was already sporting a smile, holding my hands and rubbing my shoulders. I decided the Island wasn’t just Paradise after all and so I christened it Miracle.

Barely thirty minutes later, we were treated to a freshly prepared meal of Prawns, Lobsters and Pilau – the famous spicy Rice of Zanzibar. Our host also provided us with a map of the Island which contained some of the available sights and activities to engage in.

When we got back to our room after the meal, I read out the activities and did a little tap dance with each activity that I read out.

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Diving with the Dolphins.     tap

Wading in Shallow Sandbars.  tap tap

Volcanic Stone Massage. tap tap tap

Snorkeling. tap tap tap tap                              

Visit to World Heritage Site of Stone Town. tap tap tap tap tap

A local dhow sunset cruise which includes a picnic in a secluded mangrove area. tap tap tap tap tap tap

I had Jite giggling nonstop throughout the reading and I felt a warm glow spread through my body with each giggle.

****

Omoboye was really excited and I was too. I was finally feeling happy about being married and it felt good.

“Hey Jite, why don’t you allow things to remain this way?”

“Yeah Jite we would allow things remain this way, everything except the unprotected sex.”

“You are just a block head.”

“Thank you.”

I was still watching Omoboye dance as I had the conversation with myself. She looked so beautiful in a Red sun dress that barely covered her lower thighs. My eyes bulged as she stopped and in what was barely a second, removed her dress and expertly threw it on one of the cushions in the room.

“I didn’t know I married a stripper.” I said making sure I was smiling so she would know it’s a joke.

“There are lots of other things you would still find out about your wife Jite and guess what; you have a lifetime for that.”

“Yes Omoboye, we do have forever.” I replied.

My boxers suddenly felt uncomfortable as she did another strip tease and removed her Kente bra. She is the only girl I know who could use Kente material as underwear and make them look super sexy.

She stood there naked except for her Kente G-string. It was the perfect moment for an embrace, a kiss and at least an hour of mind blowing love made on the bed that smelled of exotic spices. It was a rare moment, one that we didn’t take or that I refused to take. I broke the eye contact first and picked up my phone from where it laid on the bed. I decided it was a good time to call our parents.

Omoboye wanted our phones off; she had talked about it months before the wedding. We could occasionally call our parents and make updates on Blackberry but that was it. I was itching to open my twitter page, I knew there would be numerous mentions and direct mentions on it but I had agreed with Omoboye that it wasn’t proper to get back into social media so soon.

*****

My heart bled for the moment lost but I was grateful Jite was coming around so I couldn’t complain. I consoled myself with the hope that more would come and decided to join him on the bed. I sat on his laps with my legs facing forward, my crotch strategically placed on his and my bare breasts practically in his face. It was something no full blooded man (especially a new husband) would ignore.

He didn’t flinch, he only adjusted to accommodate me better; the gesture ensured my centre rested perfectly on his.

“It’s been so long.” I murmured as he told me he wanted to call our parents. He smiled. He understood I wasn’t referring to the calls.

We spoke to Jite’s Mom and my parents. His Mom sounded really excited; she just got a call about another contract she told us. The phone was on speaker and I gave a whoop that I hoped sounded genuine enough. I have always believed something was fishy about his Mom and the way she got the funny and very fraudulent contracts that she did now and then. But she was my mother in law and as long as we benefited who am I to complain.

Dad was cool as usual. My Mom however kept asking if we were having fun laying emphasis on the fun. The way she said the fun reminded me of how I needed to get pregnant fast.

Time was running out and we hadn’t even started.

***

She wants me, I know that. I want her too.

The atmosphere seemed too perfect for me to use a condom or withdraw so I knew I had to provide a distraction. I rolled her off my laps and lay on her. She closed her eyes and I felt guilty about what I was about to do. I kissed her neck, earlobes and her forehead. Everything in me wanted to go all the way. I wanted to kiss her lips. I wanted to lose myself and wallow in the depths of her. More importantly I had a sudden urge to wipe away the memory of the horrible sex we had on our wedding night.

But I didn’t.

“Sweets, don’t you think we should head out to the pool; I will like to find out if that water smells of spice too.” I said smiling and pretending I didn’t see disappointment cloud her eyes.

“We could take a cool swim, head for the beach and then…….”

“Wait, Sweets do you think anyone would mind or see us if we decide to make love on the terrace later tonight?”

She smiled then, her face brightening.

“I guess we could try Husband”.

****

I was disappointed. There had been something in his eyes, something that held promise of bliss, of love- the type we used to have before the pregnancy and the Cripple but it went away and I couldn’t even stop it from leaving. I wasn’t too disappointed however; at least there was hope for later.

I can wait.

He had called me Sweets. That felt good. My Jite was on his way back.

“God, can we stay on Miracle forever?” I asked under my breath

****

After our swim, we headed for the beach.

We both glanced at ourselves the moment we saw the other couples on the beach.

Omoboye made a face.

“I thought Miracle was ours only.”

“Miracle? I thought we agreed its paradise?”

“It’s still paradise Jite. But I couldn’t help naming it Miracle too given the circumstances.”

She smiled then not wanting to say everything on her mind and I smiled back perfectly understanding the things she said and didn’t say.

“So Sweets, maybe we should call it “The Miracle Paradise”.”

“No, Jite. Miraculous Paradise.”

“No, Sweets, Paradise of Miracles.”

“Uhn, uhn” she said in a voice so soft it sent tremors through my body.

“Uhn, uhn Jite. Paradise la Miraculous.”

“La Miracalous ko, La Mira cooler ni.” I replied grabbing her waist as she giggled.

It suddenly seemed as though we were the only ones as our eyes locked again and we shared a kiss.

She tastes so good. My wife. I tasted spice, cream and warmth. I didn’t want to let go. I almost turned her back towards the house but I didn’t. Instead I broke the kiss and we walked in silence towards a hammock that rested between two palm trees. imagesCACCLKF1

***

Almost.

God, I think I’m tired of almost. I murmured sending another supplication to heaven.

I could tell Jite almost turned us both back to the house but he hadn’t.

The kiss was great however. It was different from the one we faked on our wedding day. He tasted just like old times. Mint and a whiff of what I simply call Jitefume for want of an appropriate name.

We walked hand in hand towards the hammock. I looked at the other couples as we passed and wondered if we were the only semi-happy ones or there were others like us.

There was the couple that looked like Ghanaians. Sitting on the sand and building a castle like children. I looked closely; they were building what looked like a bungalow. They would playfully slap each other’s arms away and argue intermittently.

There was another couple snuggling on a mat. They even covered themselves with a blanket. The woman was spread-eagled on the man and together they were sharing a lollipop.

There was an old couple, probably in their Sixties. The woman’s head was on the man’s laps and he was reading aloud to her from a book. She had on thick dark goggles and there was a stick propped beside the Palm tree where they lay. I wondered sadly if she was blind thinking how unfortunate it would be if she couldn’t see the beauty of her surroundings at the same time liking that they were old and yet so in sync.

As we lay in our hammock side by side I saw another couple come out of the waves. A white couple; each was carrying a surfing board.

“So white people come here too?” I said.

“Why won’t they? We are the stupid ones you know, we Africans I mean.” Jite propped himself up and took on his lecturing voice.

“We keep going to the Virgin Islands, US, UK, Dubai when we have these exciting places in Africa.”

“Yeah. True.” I agreed. “There are certainly good holiday spots here in Africa.”

“Sweets, God willing I will like for us to make this a yearly thing.”

“I mean we go on vacations every year, the next however will be Obudu Mountain resort in Cross River. I hear it’s like being in the clouds.”

“That would be nice.” I agreed not mentioning I didn’t see how yearly vacations could happen on an assistant lecturer cum makeup artist income.

****

It felt good being that way with Omoboye. The peace and the serenity was just out of the world.

I thought it would be great for us to take pictures and Omoboye smiled excitedly asking herself why she hadn’t thought of it. She then opened her beach bag to make up her face.

“Who brings a makeup kit to the beach?” I joked

I thought she looked good enough as she was but I knew how conscious she was about her looks so I didn’t say another word and just watched her paint her face and prop herself up in readiness for what should have been natural looking pictures.

****

“Jite, these pictures are so so cool.” I said excitedly when the photographer was done transferring the pictures to my Blackberry.

“Baby, lets update our BBM profile pictures.”

He shrugged in agreement and I gave him my phone so he could transfer whichever pictures he liked. I thought of what to use as my profile message and decided on;

“The perfect honeymoon; sand, sex, water, spice and more sex…..Yipeee…..Forever is beautiful”

I collected the phone from Jite and chose the steamiest picture amongst the ten shots that we took. It was the one where he encircled my upper body with his arms and his hands were practically on my breast. Another reason I loved the picture so much was because of the childish grin on my face. It presented a perfectly happy couple – exactly what I wanted my friends and family to see.

***

“Bola my maid of honour can be so annoying.” I told Jite

“What did she do?” He asked drawing me close so my head rested on his shoulders.

“She is sending me a message on BB, imagine that. The girl has no respect for people in the moon ooo.”

“You are funny, guess she took your changing your display picture as a hint that you were available to talk.”

“I guess so too.”

“Baby”, I called drawing circles on his side. “I know we are not supposed to be communicating but can I just reply her?”

“What did she say?”

“See”, I replied giving the phone to him.  He read her message out

“Iyawo Osingin….shey na you dey wound bobo abi na bobo dey wound you?”

“Answer her; tell we are not in a boxing ring so nobody is wounding the other.”

I laughed at his words certain I won’t tell Bola that

“Babe, what do you think na?” I replied her

“I suspect sey na him go dey win.”

“Who for come win before?”

We both LOLed at that.

“I am so happy for you Omoboye.”

“Thanks Boladale. More thanks for being there all the way.”

“My pleasure. Darling”

“Hmmm. Boye, there is something I need to tell you ooo. I know you’d be mad but I still need to say it.”

I took my eyes away from the phone for a minute and glanced up at Jite to be sure he wasn’t looking at the phone

“What is it Bola? What would I be angry about?”

“Hmmm, Boye, I have betrayed you and I am so ashamed of myself.”

“What is it now Boladale? Just say it first.”

“Boye, I am pregnant. I am three months gone. I didn’t want to tell you all this while because I was afraid.”

“No, Bola you cannot be pregnant”

“In fact you dare not be pregnant ! ”

Not So Happily Married…. Episode Four

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MISSED PREVIOUS EPISODES? CLICK HERE

My eyes were bloodshot, a far cry from what you would expect from a new bride. I stood up from the bed, stretched and went to the wardrobe to get my make up bag.

 

Subtlety is the key and I know that. No one expects a “just waking look” to show traces of makeup. So I applied a little foundation to conceal the bags under the eyes and a hint of black eye shadow to give a smoky look. I returned the kit to the wardrobe, placed myself carefully beside Jite. I paused for a minute to adjust some settings on the camera. Shutter sound and flashlight off, I placed my head on Jite’s chest and took the picture.

 

He didn’t rouse from sleep at all. I understood that he needed to sleep after the stressful day we had. I used the picture as my BBM display and put the message;

“First day of forever! Bliss…hitched and ecstatic.”

 

Jite and Omoboye (2)

The Yoruba people will say two people cannot be deceived at the same time. If the person who is being lied to doesn’t know, the person who is lying knows he is lying. I had no guilt for the deception. I was miserable but the world didn’t have to know.

 

Who would see the message and imagine that we had both gone to bed after a shouting match that people two rooms away could have heard.

I had surprised myself with the divorce word. It was unplanned but I was totally out of control.

He had burst out in laughter immediately I talked about divorce.

“Omoboye, please don’t make laugh. I am not in the mood for laughter. You? Divorce? You won’t do that Honey. You love public opinion too much for that. You would sooner die than face the stigma of divorce especially so soon.”

“Oh, you think I won’t abi? Keep this attitude up. See if I won’t. I don’t think you realize how much I wish I could be out of this room, out of this marriage, out of it all.”

“Who brings novels to their honeymoon? Why are we even doing the honeymoon anyway, we might as well not bother. You could tell your mum to keep her money, that we don’t need it. Tell her we are the worst couple that ever existed, that we don’t deserve favors. Tell her who your wife really is; tell her what you really think of me, make sure you include how you think I’m a vile, vain, baby killing monster.”

“I’m glad you know what you are.”

“You are glad I know what I am?”  I shrieked

I picked a pillow and threw it at him.

“How dare you even judge me? It’s not like you didn’t misbehave too. Have you even apologized to me for one minute for what you did with that Cripple?”

I waited for him to respond but he didn’t. Instead he turned his back to me.

I knew I had struck a nerve.

He didn’t talk to me after for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

 

****

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Omoboye in front of the wardrobe, a travelling box in front of her. She looked good and I allowed my eyes to feast on her. She takes good care of herself and it shows, Butter scotch skin, hairless legs which she waxed every other week, a well rounded bottom the result of numerous hip exercises. She is good looking and she knows it.

 The night dress formed a perfect silhouette for her curvy hips. I could tell she was wearing nothing underneath and I felt my body harden looking at her. Vintage me would have drawn her close and we would have had a mutually satisfying tango under the sheets but I couldn’t afford to do that as much as I wanted to at that moment. She would take it to mean we were cool. I wasn’t ready for that.

 It dawned on me that this was our first morning together as a married couple and I wanted to say something, good morning, hello or whatever it is that newlyweds say to each other the morning after. But somehow my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I was still too bitter about her mentioning my slip to even greet her.

She shouldn’t have mentioned anything about Bisade. She crossed the line with that and she knows it.

 

It’s not like I planned for what happened to happen.

 

Bisade is a dear friend and a confidant. We had never had anything intimate beyond talking but that changed the day Omoboye killed my baby.

I had gone to Bisade’s place straight from Boye’s apartment. I told her about what Boye did. She had been aghast at the extent of Boye’s vanity and had offered her comfort.

 

See Bisade is not someone I was attracted to or someone I ever thought I could have anything beyond friendship with. Ours was that type of boy-girl friendship that put proponents of “a man and a woman can never be friends” to shame.

Our friendship started right from university. We studied the same course and shared a desk for the four years in school. I never had any romantic feelings for her and she didn’t seem to have either. We both understood that we were always going to be just friends. I was her champion, the one who fought anyone who looked down on her. She had a bad case of Polio Mellitus as a child and so couldn’t walk without crutches. My friends would tease me to no end; they even gave me the nickname “Oko aro”. Most of the girls I dated had issues with our friendship but usually come around once they realize she wasn’t a threat and even make friends with her.

 

Boye was different however. She hated Bisade from the first time they met and would always call her a cripple. The label annoyed me and she knew it. I stopped complaining when I realized that the more I showed my displeasure at the term, the more she used it.

Bisade was only supposed to comfort me that day but even now I can’t seem to remember how things got out of hand. I just know they did and somehow we ended up having sex.

I felt dirty and soiled afterwards. We had been in such a hurry that we didn’t even remember to get naked. I had ended up with shiny pieces of her sequined dress glued to several parts of my body. It took an agonizing and guilt filled hour to get it off my skin. The mistake I made however was not getting it off my shirt and trouser and that was where Omoboye discovered them two weeks later. Shiny little snitches! Her question had been so gentle and direct that I couldn’t even think up a story fast enough and so I had told her the truth and made sure to blame it on her. She took it stoically then and I had been relieved.

That morning however I blamed myself for having a big mouth. I didn’t have to confess. I could have kept my mouth shut and retain the exclusive right to be indignant. Now not only did she have something to hold over me, my friendship with Bisade was also destroyed. I wouldn’t dare to even wave at her if there was a chance Omoboye will know.

 

 

***

Jite was even more withdrawn than the previous day. I knew he was sulking about my reference to his cripple. I knew what I was doing when I mentioned it. It was meant to remind him he wasn’t that holy either.

I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell so much on the issue. I willed myself to focus on making things better between us. I convinced myself that I deserve what happened. But that didn’t stop me from being pained. I don’t know what hurts most, that he cheated on me or that he did it with a cripple.

 

However I was ready to sheath my sword. I wanted us to show some warmth to each other. Zanzibar is a beautiful place. Somewhere I have always dreamt of going to. I had no desire to have an unhappy time there. Besides what’s a Honeymoon without Honey?

I watched as he sat up on the bed and decided to hug him. I am the woman here right? I should be the one to swallow my pride and reach out. Yes I aborted, I told him and he cheated. I should still overlook the cheating right? Forgive him and make the marriage work. I am sure Mom would agree with that.

I could almost hear her voice in my head.

“Omoboye, it’s a man’s world. If a man cheats on you, you forgive. Besides you caused it. If you had not done what you did, he would not have had reason to go to the girl.”

I went to sit beside him and hugged him. It was a one sided hug, his hands remained with him. I said “good morning husband”, he replied with a “gruff good morning wife” and disentangled himself from my embrace.

Ish. I tried. I murmured swinging my hips as I walked to the bathroom.

 

 

***

I hate flying, maybe because I am always scared about how the plane could easily crash. I glanced sideways at Jite; his face was still sporting a dark frown. I felt sad wondering how men could be so different from women.

Did it not occur to him that all this drama could end in a split second, that the plane could crash and we’ll both be gone forever. Did he not know that life was too short to live it in acrimony? My mind went to the crash that happened only months before. Who knows if one of the numerous couples that died in the crash had been fighting, how would they have felt when the plane developed problems, would they have quickly apologized to themselves, suddenly remember how much they love themselves and hug till death came?

Oh Omoboye stop thinking of death. I chided myself.

Think of Zanzibar, of sand, of beaches, of six course dinners under the stars, of belly dancers, of hammocks and beautiful nights spent entwined.

Static. It was hard to picture myself and Jite entwined without pink packets of condoms clouding my vision.

A wicked smile curved my lips as I thought of the condoms.

He would have a fit when he realizes they are gone. Tucked under the mattress where a lucky cleaner would find them.

There was no way I was going to have a condom filled honeymoon. Not when Mom’s threat that I had to get pregnant before our first anniversary still haunted me.

The idea had come out of the blues, no condom means I get pregnant and when I get pregnant, husband calms down. Everything goes back to normal and we live happily ever after. Whew! I thought a smug smile brightening my face as I placed my head on Jite’s shoulders.

* Boarding Tales is now on Okadabooks app. Click the image below to download for FREE

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Not So Happily Married…. Episode Three

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Did you read Episodes One and Two ?

If you didn’t, find them here Episode One , Episode Two

 “How long are we going to do this Jite? You should have called off the wedding since my sins are too great to be forgiven.”

“We will do this for as long as it takes for me to come to terms with what you did.”

“Now, do you want us to make love or not?” He asked holding the pink coloured condom in front of him. I looked at the object in his hands disgusted beyond all measure. I wondered why he felt the need to buy a coloured one. I glanced at the condom case and smirked at the strawberry pictured on the case. Oh crap, perhaps it’s scented too.

“Jite, don’t call this making love; it would be better put as sex.”

“Okay, then do you want  to have sex?”

“If yes let’s get it over with and if no let me go back to sleep peacefully.”

“Okay let’s do it.” I whispered shrugging

*****

Tears poured from my eyes soaking the soft pillow beneath my head.

 “I shouldn’t be crying.”

“This is my wedding night.”

“I should be deliriously happy.”

Those were the words I kept murmuring to myself as I curled up on the only bed. I felt worse than a prostitute probably feels.

“You are a horny fool.” I told myself.

“Why would you agree to being used like that?”

I watched Jite. Sprawled on the bed, he looked content, sated and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. I thought of hitting him with something, anything but I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. “Mea maxima culpa. I brought this upon myself”. I murmured. I made a good man turn into what I could no longer recognize.

*****

I hate condoms. I see them as an unnecessary hindrance. Using them I feel like I am sharing the woman with a piece of polythene, somehow the sharing always ended in one of us being bitter while the other gets discarded in fury.

I felt a sadness that ran deep. I just had the worst sex of my life with my wife on our wedding night. It’s not like the condom was necessary in any way but somehow I was not ready to take the risk of having unprotected sex with Omoboye but most importantly I wanted to humiliate her.  Who knows if she still wasn’t ready for a baby?

The memory was still too raw to take the risk of it reoccurring.

I was at the clinic when you called. She had said as she opened the door of her room. I had visited her that evening after she missed a date we both agreed on.

Really, what’s wrong with you, are you ill? I had asked in quick succession touching her temple with my palm.

“Not really.  I was feeling funny so I went to the hospital immediately I left the salon.”

“I am fine now anyway. I just need to rest.”

“Okay so what exactly did they say was wrong with you?”

 “They said I was pregnant. Imagine that. Imagine me two months pregnant six months to our wedding.”

“What’s wrong with you being pregnant? Isn’t that good news?”

 “Well, it could be good news, except I don’t think it is.”

“If it’s about your stomach being big on the wedding day we could shift the event closer, besides that’s not even a big deal. A lot of people do it these days.”

“Jite, I know but I can’t do it. I can’t carry the pregnancy.

“Well, you can complain and argue all you want but you know you don’t have a choice right?”

“At least you can’t say you want to abort.”

“Why can’t I?”

“I can’t believe you asked me that question. You would abort a pregnancy few months to our wedding?”

“Yes Jite and it’s done.”

I had laughed certain she was joking.

You are not serious Boye, You would abort a pregnancy and still look like this and how would you have even done it so fast. Last I checked, abortion was still illegal in Nigeria.

Jite you have obviously been seeing too much of Nollywood movies.” she replied as she lay on her bed and covered herself with her Ankara wrapper.

“How so?” I asked my heart already palpitating.

“See, abortion is not that complicated; forget what they try to tell us in those movies. There are a good number of qualified doctors that do it on the side and it’s pretty simple. They bring out the foetus and you bleed for some days. You also take come antibio…”

“See, Boye spare me the lecture. What exactly are you saying?”

I’m saying it’s done already.

Omoboye, you can’t be serious. I replied searching her face for a hint that it was a bad joke.

****

I know it’s unheard of to abort a pregnancy when you are already engaged. I know that. I also know a lot of people will like to crucify me over it. But at that time it seemed like the reasonable thing to do. Even my mother had gone ballistics when Jite told her.  

‘That unborn child will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Mummy, I had gasped.

“It’s not a curse my dear. You would always think of that child, you would feel the loss, if not now, in the future. You would wonder if he or she would have been fair or dark, tall or short, intelligent or dumb.”

“Mummy stop.”

“Stop what? You have done a great evil in case you do not know. My advice to you is that you don’t come crying to me if that man refuses to go ahead with the marriage. Any sane man will call it off because you are not worth it. You are a vain creature with sand paper as brain.”

Mummy this is enough, stop right now or I walk out.

“Feel free to walk out because I have no intention of stopping until I’m done. If Jite eventually marries you because I don’t expect him to, God help you if you don’t get pregnant in your first year of marriage. I would be the one to tell your husband’s people what you have done.”

“Mum! Why are you making this look like a big issue? It’s not like I killed someone.”

“Oh, Omoboye, that’s exactly what you did. You killed someone; you killed a child.”

“Mom, it was a two month old pregnancy, something that was more of blood than any other thing.”

“May thunder strike that stinking mouth of yours.” She screeched sending a slipper flying at me.

I ducked and shivered wondering why she was taking it so violently.

“You called a whole human being something that looked like blood? You were once like that too, imagine what would have happened if I had aborted you.”

“Now get out of my sight, but Omoboye go and pray hard that your husband finds it in his heart to forgive you. If he doesn’t and the wedding is called off, I will tell anyone who asks me. I will tell them what you did.”

Driving to my flat that night I had been mad at Jite for telling Mom but I wasn’t in the position to show it, not when he was too angry to even pick my calls. Later that night after several calls to Jite still went unanswered I asked myself if I was under some kind of a spell. I was certain I had to be the biggest idiot ever. A smarter person would have kept her mouth shut. I kept asking myself what I had expected Jite’s reaction to be. Joy that I aborted his baby?

 

***

This has got to be the worst wedding night in the history of the world. I mused listening to her sobs. Why am I this way? I wondered trying to decide whether to comfort her or not.

But what’s with women and tears anyway?

They find it easy to break down in crocodile tears expecting the man to come rushing to wipe them off. That is not going to happen, I decided.

If I was a woman perhaps I would have cried too. I would have mourned the baby she murdered. Boy or girl. I am never going to know.

All my life, I have tried my best to ensure no girl gets pregnant for me when I am not ready for fatherhood. I made myself so versed in the art of withdrawal that I swore by it and even preach it to friends.

“It’s pretty easy.” I would say. “It’s all about self awareness and mind control. You have to be in control and make sure you are out in the split second before you climax.”

Somehow I must have relaxed after Omoboye and I got engaged and I was certain that must have been why she got pregnant. I felt like a bereaved father. As crazy as that sounds it’s still a fact that I have a child in heaven or wherever it is that fetuses go after they die.

Lying beside her and listening to her sobs, I thought of how we could easily make another baby. All I had to do was draw her close and ditch the condoms. But it was a risk I was reluctant to take. Not until she gets cured of her vanity and I was going to ensure that happens. I decided telling myself it was time to shut out her sobs and go to sleep.

****

Use your head, Omoboye. Think! I told myself.

 Mom always said you were going to be a lousy wife and here you are proving her right the very first day.

I sat up suddenly cleaning the tears on my face with the edge of my night dress.

“What would a smart woman do?” I murmured taking myself back to the moment we entered the room. A smart woman would act like she didn’t know he was acting up and take to pampering him to make him loosen up. My lips curved in a smile as the ideas started flowing.

“God please be with me on this.” I whispered.  

I moved to the side of the bed where Jite was and knelt beside him.

“My husband you must be tired.” I whispered placing my palm on his forehead. His eyes remained close but the frown on his face assured me he wasn’t sleeping.

“Sweetheart, I think we should eat something.”

“Should I order?”

“I’m not hungry.” he growled.

“You are not? What about a drink or something light. We didn’t eat anything at the reception you know.”

“I said I’m not hungry, are you deaf?” I cringed at his words; it was so unlike him to use such words on me.

 “Okay then. Can I rub your shoulder blades, you look tense.”

“See, I don’t need a back rub or anything else, if you are so bored, pick a magazine or a novel, I packed some for this honeymoon thing. Read or sleep and if its sex that you want let me know. I have enough condoms to last the entire honeymoon.” 

“Oh, Crap.” I said sitting on the bed with a force.

“Jite, why are you being so impossible?”

“It’s not like you were forced to marry me, you could have said you couldn’t do it. Look here, I’m not going to live the rest of my life like this.”

“In fact, how soon can we get a divorce?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

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