MY HOME! MY CAREER!!! – Episode 2

By the door, I stand by listening in as I place my ear. Is she really sobbing? I have expected her to retaliate and snapped at me but… Anyway! I wish I had done the right thing! I just can’t tolerate it anymore. I’m the head of the house, she should start learning to bow from now on. How can I not be able to manage my own wife as I wish? For the past eight years of our marriage, I’ve always been the one on the bench watching. It’s high time I started showing her that I’m the man of the house!
I rush down the stairs and lock myself up in the visitor’s room. Devastated and worried as well, the thought of our marital life and how it commenced keeps popping up in my mind – she was my dream, my goal!
During the final year of my apprenticeship at my master’s mechanical workshop, a very smart and eloquent girl who used to learn tailoring at a shop on the next street to ours used to pass by our shop in a hurry every evening with books in her arm. With smile and cheerful spirit like the full moon, she would greet everyone who caught her attention. Being a man who loves adhering to Allah’s injunction, I mostly almost found it difficult to lower my gaze whenever she passed by – just like the radiant of the sun, she used to fill my heart with brightness. I later learnt I wasn’t the only interested fellow and many guys on the street have already tried their lucks – including the playboys but all attempts were futile. Learning that gave me an ecstatic feeling as well as I felt literarily destituted. A friend who lived on her street told me much about her; she was a girl who wanted to be educated, her biggest goal as at that time was to enter the university and she was living just for that, even though she had lesser support from her mother who was also struggling on her own. Being a man whose formal education has gone out of his plan, I felt defeated even before trying. I was a dullard who strived hard to complete SSCE though with D7, E8 and F9 in all the eight subjects I sat for, I wasn’t just created for books so I quit and started learning mechanical engineering.
She became my goal and every time she passed by I sneaked a gaze at her. I later owned a workshop after my apprenticeship and started earning a lot. Then I started making my move; my first move was going to her house in a shirt and trouser – which is alien to my mode of dressing, after two brief nawafil where I asked Allah to grant me success.
I smile to myself reminiscing the event, I can’t believe I really did that!…

The door’s handle moves and I realize someone is at the door, following with knocks after failed attempt to open.
“Assalaamu’alykum! Habeeby! Are you there?… Habeeby!… I’m sorry please open the door. Are you there?… Answer me at least! Abu Khalid… Please, stop torturing me…” The knocks stop.
“Are you sure your Dad entered here?”
“Yes, I saw him entering” I can hear Nuzayba answering.
“I’ve served your foods, go ahead. I’m coming”
She continue knocking, calling and urging me to open.
For every knock that sounds on the door, I feel my heart spills. I don’t like hurting her but my friend is right, women should sometimes understand why we are men! She should learn to take my NO as NO and my YES as the final YES! I also want to be a man who is loved, honoured and respected by his wife, not anymore a man who sacrifices every of his time and life to please his woman!
The knocks finally stop and I hear no more of it. Then I feel a certain despair of regret; I should have opened the door, wrap my arms around her neck in embrace and forgive her like I always do.
“No! I won’t! I must fight this to the end!” I murmur with courage.
I search for my phone to check on the time but can’t find it so I remember I left it in our room upstairs. I had thought as much because I haven’t heard it ring. Though I’m determined, part of me is still expecting her to come by the door and knock again. But she won’t, I have known that, she just won’t!
Alone doing nothing in the room and also lost in the count of time, I feel bored. I gaze at the cemented ceiling until I start drifting to sleep so I say my adhkar.
From a dream I can’t comprehend, I wake up to meet myself in the room again. My stomach growls severely and I can feel my stomach parasites eating each other. I had gone on hunger strike yesterday night to show my wife how angry I am, can I possibly eat her food now without surrendering?
The more I become adamant on my decision the more I feel the hunger eating up my intestines – I’m an ulcer patient and I don’t want to die now. So I decide to find something to eat.
Opening the door and stepping into the sitting room, I see my wife sleeping soundly on the cushion chair. Has she been waiting for me?
“Poor girl!” I silently exclaim.
I tiptoe into the kitchen, trying not to wake her. I search for every bit of food available but none is seen even including garri. I find the store door locked – my naughty wife must have locked all the foods inside, including the pot of soup. Tiptoeing back to the dining, I see my food, very well served and covered on the table. I open the first stainless food flask, it contains amala, which is my favourite. Eagerly, I gently open the second flask – already savouring the smell – which contains the soup; efo riro soup with different pieces of assorted meat. My mouth salivates, ready to devour every food before me. On the battle field, the stronger learns to run, to live for another fight so I simply surrender. I draw back the chair and sit then I sense her passing behind me into the kitchen.
She returns with a bowl and a jug of water and quietly places them before me. I become speechless but frown as she pours me a cup of water. I’m finally defeated!
“I’m sorry for whatever reason you have to be this unlikely mad with me. I’m very sorry!” She pleads.
Though with a gimbled expression, I can feel her apology melting every ice in my heart. I continue eating without uttering a word because I honestly don’t know what to say nor do. She leaves for upstairs and I watch her going. Is that all? I feel a bit offended because I have expected more than such an oral apology, I used to do more than that!
I gather aside all my marital dilemma and focus on the food. I devour slowly.
Without thinking twice after my meal, I climb up the stairs to our bedroom to rest in the comfort of the night. And probably… It’s been a while!… Maybe… Probably, she would give me a chance tonight – the thought rolls in as I open the door, crossing the threshold into my room. And there she lies, my wife, with her long black abaya on and underneath, I observe a tight legging – a way of telling me ‘I’m not interested’ again tonight. I shrug and get on the other side of the bed. I draw the blanket over my head till I’m lost in the slumber.

In the pretence of sleeping, a tiny voice calls on me – my lovely Nuzayba! But I can’t wake up now so I won’t assist my wife. She has to start doing everything by herself as from today since her love for work exceeds her love for me.
So I play dead for Nuzayba despite her tappings. Her Mum rushes in,
“Darling, stop disturbing your Dad. He must be tired. I will bath you today” she gently says as she ushers her out.
She sounds unaffected and unconcerned and it is hurting me. I’m expecting her to throw some kind of tantrum or at least protest like she used to do in our early marriage but she is trying to be resilient. Without my help, let’s just see how long it lasts!

I sneak a stare at my wife as she undresses to dress for work. I seldom witness such a view because I’m always doing something but today I’m doing nothing even taking the kids to school – I won’t! She dresses as if no one is staring, yes! I’m her husband and I can stare, gaze, look and even watch. I own her and she gets the charm of telling me ‘I’m yours, all yours and always yours’ but she never put it into action! I’m always the one in need, I’m always the one demanding. Which is annoying me!
After dressing she rushes out calling on the kids, “get ready kids! I’m dropping you at the school today”
I feel my heart tearing – she isn’t even making an effort to reconcile. I’ve spoiled her, I won’t ever let this hese continue!

Under the tree at my workshop, I sit on one of the surfaced large roots. Brooding on what hasave been happening to me these days; I was almost arrested yesterday for an offence I have never committed. Theft! Car theft! – A man had left a car with me last week complained its engine was overheating and I had diagnosed its radiator fan’s motor had to be changed. He left saying he was going to withdraw money from the ATM but didn’t return. I was even less concern of his car lying in my workshop because the land is big enough to accommodate as much as fifty cars. However, my family gives me much worries than my work these days. Until this morning, another man came with two policemen claiming the ownership of the car. I was told the car was stolen and has been onin the news since the last week. Nothing I had said that could convince them – was even accused of allying with the thieves. I had no choice than to involve my wife who rescued me by making just a phone call without moving an inch from her office. I was ashamed of involving her because things haven’t been well between us at home – since that night we’ve been living like strangers and she has taken all the tasks in the house to herself including those I used to help her with – but this is jail I’m talking about! I couldn’t take the risk then I hid under her shield.
I think it would be best for me to go home earlier today and straighten things up with her. I bring out my phone and try her number but it has been switched off again, a fire ignites inside me! – a feeling I always get whenever I fail to find her where I need her most…
“Oga, what is the time?” One of my junior workers enquires, standing before me.
I suppress my rage, trying hard to hide the pain then I reply him “twenty minutes to six”
“Good God! Good timing! Can I take my leave now boss?”
“What is good in the timing that excites you this much?” I curiously ask
“I just drank some agbo (herbal concoctions) from Iya Awa and base on my time calculation, my wife would have returned home now and before maghrib… You know Oga!” He cheerfully explains.
“What if your wife isn’t home yet? Maybe, she has some delay. What will you do?”
“Ehn? She won’t dare! I’ve already called and told her before drinking the herbs so what would be her excuse? If at all she dares, she should be preparing to pack to their house that day! I trust her, she won’t dare!” He expresses confidently.
“No wonder you are quick with your works today. lion lomo!” I praise
“Here I am o! My good boss!”
“Or should I also get you the herbs? The woman hasven’t closed…”
I cuts in, “don’t bother yourself! I won’t want such trouble for my wife”
We both giggle and deep down me, I envy him for the kind of man he is in his home.
“But Oga, I always envy you o. You are the original lion!”
“I don’t think so?” I murmur under my breath
“It’s better you go home to madam on time today… I’m off Oga, I’m already feeling the herbs in me” he says while running off.
No one would see or hear about my wife without counting me lucky and envy me and I do feel great for that – A roadside mechanical engineer married to a masters degree holder in accountancy – it sounds like a fantasy but it’s real, a such combination of myself and my wife…
“Boda Mukaila!” A female voice calls from behind.
I turn aroundmy neck to look; it is Iya Awa who sells herbs concoction beside my workshop. Turning my neck back to the front, she walks closer till standing before me.
“Please sir, do you know where boda Abbey is? He hasn’t given me the money for the herb concoction he drank” she asks
“He has gone home” I reach out to my pocket and brings out a five hundred naira note to pay for him.
She searches her purse but says she doesn’t have my balance, “the concoction costs #300 which means I will owe you #200 sir”
Tired of her presence, I wave to her to keep the balance and she quickly goes down on her knee which I quickly forbid. “You should have known me differently in this compound. I don’t celebrate kneeling nor prostrating!”
“I’m sorry sir, thank you sir!” She responds while leaving.
Hanging down my head, I mutter, “just go”
I think I’ll rapidly age a decade if I continue like this…
I heard her call me again and I lift up my head, “what is it again?”
“I’m sorry sir o! Please don’t take this as meddling into your personal life…” I shake my head and she continues, “I’ve been observing you for days, you no more go home early like you used to do but do stay under this tree all by yourself when every of your workers has gone home. And this is very unusual of you sir, hope no problem?”
Even if there is, will I sit her down and explain my problem to her then in return receive her consolation or counsel? Funny woman! What advice would a single mother of five years of divorce possibly give a married man? I wish I could laugh!
“Don’t worry! I just choose to sit here, my wife isn’t around so I think I should spend some time out” I lie but to cut her off.
Her expression shows she isn’t buying my excuse but she smiles in response, “OK sir, I don’t know that! And instead of sitting alone here, you can come to my stall. There are always some men there that would lighten up your mood with some discussions”
“Thank you but it’s already time, I should go home now! Thanks for your concern” I stand up and prepare to leave.
She grins, leaving she says “OK sir, greet madam for me o”
I nod in response.

Driving into the garage, I spot her car and get my hope high that my wife has returned. I want to reconcile, I’ve done enough being a jerk!
I turn the door’s handle to open but it is still locked so I think she has locked herself and the children inside. I use my key and open. The room is dark and I search for the switch and switch the light on. Everywhere is just like I’ve left it in the morning which means no one has returned – including the children!
My phone adhan calls, it’s time for maghrib and my wife still hasn’t returned from work! I have expected to return into a comfort – even the children’s whining would do but I’ve returned into an empty house!
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Note of the chapter: “And one of His signs is that He created mates for you from yourselves that you may find rest in them, and He put between you love and compassion; most surely there are signs in this for a people who reflect.” Qur’an 30:21!