Face Me I Face you

Chapter one

"Dis one Don too much na, see my mates. Joy, her husband don carry am go obodo oyinbo, me na face me I face you, na you dey carry me go."

Your wife's constant complaints reached your ears, you try not to let her cheap talk get to you. You wondered how you got married to her in the first place, she was the epitome of beauty lacking brains. You recalled your mother warning you against such women.
Women that drank, those dark mixtures of different liquids, the next week and a half, the effect would be slightly bigger and admirable buttocks. The one you can't resist touching each time each cheek goes upandan in her lappa.

Your mother would lament the day you met her, in her eyes your beautiful wife was a grade one prostitute.

You suspected such after you saw Emeka, a self-acclaimed big boy who claimed he had several contracts under his care that fetches him big money every single day, ladies often loiter around him but you didn't expect to see your own Jara among them, he touched her arm in a way that too seemed intimate to you.
You expected her to brush Emeka's hand away and give him a very sound warning similar to the one your undergraduate landlord daughter gave you the day your hand 'mistakenly' brushed her fresh Oyinbo
buttocks, tucked in the popular bum shorts these girls wore these days.

It was firm and supple, her body carrying the touch of youth, unlike Jara whose body resembled a worn-out cloth, adorning her skin especially her dark inner thighs are stretch marks, that wry along her thighs in short and long lines.

"I tell you say make you get small patience, that guy weh your babe follow you know wetin he dey do." Your wife eyes you upandan her long fake lashes batting in a wicked manner mocking your very poor existence in her life.

"Get patience, get patience, see eh make I tell you. I marry you make you dey maintain me. For my Belle your pikin go chop and that one room wey you wan carry me go, me no gree."

Pikin kwa? Dan one shock you small.

You didn't expect your wife to be pregnant, after the family planning program you two went to.
Pregnant? For dis obodo Nigeria? Is like dis woman want make I run commot for house.

"Jara me na your husband anywhere me go, you follow. You know say na work I dey find, if better work show, sharp sharp we go vamoose from dah place, make we jus manage till better money show face."

You ignored the child matter burying it till the accommodation problem between you two get sorted.

"I go manage, the tin wey I sha like be say your witch Mama no go dey visit everyday, Na so she go open dah her witch mouth dey vomit nonsense."

"Hey, abeg, abeg no dey tok about My mama like that, if I start to dey insult your Mama wey don die nko."

"Na dream she go meet you." Her hiss resembling the sound of an overheated oil when chopped onion kiss it, you watched as she walks away from you, her buttocks mocking upandan just the way you like it, your hands itching to touch it.