Song: The most beautiful girl in the world By Prince
Maduka
Uncle Udoka's house was a lot smaller on the inside but cozy. Just like I remembered, every inch of the walls in the house was covered with vintage frames of family portraits— joint and individual pictures of family members from different generations. I even found a couple of my childhood pictures on the wall.
When I arrived, my uncle had welcomed me, making sure I was as comfortable. He soon disappeared into his kitchen and reappeared with a bottle of hard gin and a tumbler. The bottle was tucked under his arm, the tumbler was firmly in his grip while he held his local walking cane with his free hand. He sat down slowly and placed his walking cane by his side, against the shabby sofa.
"Maduka, my son. It is good to see you." He said then released a in a deep breath. He began to unscrew the liquor bottle.
"It's good to see you too, uncle." I smiled at him.
As he poured into his tumbler he eyed me and clearer his throat. "I would offer you but your Aunty Ekene tells me you shouldn't be drinking henceforth."
I wasn't surprised. I expected Aunt Kene to go to extra miles to keep up with me even when we were thousands of miles apart.
"My health will be fine, uncle." I assured him. The old man shrugged and took a swig from his tumbler.
"You've been here three days, my boy." Uncle Udoka said as he leaned back into his chair. "How does the atmosphere feel since you were last here?"
"It feels like I don't know anyone here really." I admitted. "It gets really lonely in the mansion. There's no help. And we really need the help."
"You mean like a house help?" Uncle Udoka asked with a confused frown on his face.
"Yes, that." I answered him. "For now it's just Annayo and I. Living with him is unbearable, more so now that it's just the two of us. His mother went to get Chinwe. She should be here by now but she called saying she'll be here next week. We need someone who can cook meals and clean the house."
Uncle Udoka stroked his white bearded chin and made a tsk tsk sound. "I'll see what I can do about for you."
"Thank you, Uncle." I politely bowed my head even though I was still seated. He raised a hand to wave me off, dismissing my appreciation.
"How old are you now, Maduka?" Uncle Udoka asked.
"I'm twenty-five." I answered with a chuckle.
"You were ten years younger the last time you sat on that very chair." Uncle Udoka said to me. "Now, you are a man. I hope you have done amazing things since then."
"I'm still a work-in progress, uncle." I responded with utmost sincerity. "I did graduate this year though, just last week actually. I majored in Business administration."
"Wow, you don't mean it." Uncle Udoka beamed at me. "Chief would be so proud of you." He beat his chest lightly and continued. "In spite of everything, I am certain Obidike took pride in having you for a son."
"I don't know about that..." I muttered under my breath as I looked away.
"The last time you were in the village, all of you. Your father included..." Uncle Udoka said in his thick igbo accent. "I think it was when your paternal grandmother was to be buried. May she rest in peace." After drawing a sign of the cross against his body, he continued. "I heard so many tales of your behaviour. 'Udoka come, Maduka has done this one, he has done that!' You had a knack for the demolition of your father's properties. A one man wrecking crew! Ah your father would get so frustrated. And I had to listen to his lamentations. I hope you have given up such hobbies, my boy."
I chuckled. "I stopped that a while back."
After my mother's death, my father took me back home with him to Nigeria. For a year, he struggled raising me with his mother my grandmother. Then he brought helps and nannies before he eventually remarried and brought Ifeyinwa and her son home. As time passed, I would later find out more details about my parents' divorce. My father had divulged everything himself. And so I began to resent him and rebel against everyone.
I spent six years with my father, harbouring nothing but disdain for him. There was nothing I didn't do wrong. I got into verbal and physical fights with just about everyone. I would drink myself to stupor and smoke till it felt indescribable euphoria. In the middle of the night, I would go on a rampage. I wrecked my father's cars on several occasions. I would grab anything my hands deemed suitable and swing with full force, bashing the headlights, the taillights, the windshield; anywhere I felt like. And I would laugh my heart out while doing this. If the compound workers tried to stop me It wasn't difficult to throw a few punches at them. Or I would swing my weapon at them, threatening them away.
Whenever I was on a rampage, the disturbance would wake the entire household. Sometimes my destruction was within the house. I would destroy the home appliances, furniture and electronics. Sometimes I would break into my father's bedroom and turn the place upside. At some point my father started locking me in my room. But I could always work up the courage to break out when I felt like. When he stopped giving me money, I would take his money or sell off whatever I could get my hands on. Annayo would always bear the full brunt of my rage. He always challenged me, claiming he would subdue me. Usually when we fought, there was no stopping us until one of us passed out or someone was brave enough to interfere.
I was fifteen when my paternal grandmother died. That was the last time we were at Ijeli. I loved my grandmother so much, she had been there for me in the little ways she could. My father would have her come over to talk to me when he felt he needed a mediator. But I would only be on my best behaviour for a short period of time before falling out of line again. My grandmother was also buried out back in the village mansion.
"Your father never understood. He would tell me 'Udoka, how can I tame this boy? There was nothing extraordinary about parenting I knew that I could offer him." Uncle Udoka said staring off into space as though he was reliving the past memories. "But I understood that everything you did, you did to punish everyone— that was your cause. Do you remember when stumbled out drunk on your grandmother's funeral. Initially you wouldn't come out. When you did, you disrupted the ceremony. You threw a bottle at your father's Volvo. You pulled off your shirt and screamed. I watched you and it was like watching a child throw a tantrum, a child who just wanted attention. When your father brought you here after that. He wanted me to advice you. Do you remember what you told me ten years ago when you sat here?"
"I can't be bad to one parent. I have to punish my father too for his part. It's the only way I'll be forgiven." I recited the words.
"You were really upset about your mother's passing." Uncle Udoka sighed deeply. "You blamed yourself. I still can't bring myself to under your guilt. I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, God does not hold grudges. He sees our hearts, he understands the things we feel the need to atone for, the things we think no one else will understand, he understands."
A few days leading to my mother's death, we had a fight. I overheard her fighting with my father and said terrible things to her. After that, I refused to return home to her when I was supposed to. Even after she called and asked me to return home, I didn't. I never really believed God could understand or forgive my past misbehaviours.
"You need to start afresh. Ị na-ege m ntị?" My uncle said softly. "Your life is about to change—"
"Everyone keeps telling me that." I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "And I'm actually tired of hearing it. It makes me feel as though I should've prepared myself for my father's death."
"No one is ever prepared for life." Uncle Udoka admitted. "But you have to be strong. Now is not the time to wallow in guilt or regrets. Now is simply the time to release your hold on the past and extend your hold to the future. You've been running for far too long, Maduka. You can't outrun your fate. Destroying your life is not how to be forgiven."
"I used to make all my decisions in opposition to what is expected of me. Now I—"
"Now," Uncle Udoka looked at me. It felt like he could see through me. "You learn to forgive yourself and you learn to trust yourself."
It sounded so simple but it would be the hardest thing I would have to learn
~*~*~
Binyelum
When I arrived at Obiageli's, the first thing my eyes saw was the familiar, tall dark figure that could only belong to Maduka Ndubuisi. My heart fluttered went off rhythm at the mere presence of his virility. He had his back to me, standing at the neighbouring house, just outside the verandah talking with Mazi Udoka.
That's right they're related.
Since neither of them had noticed my presence, I walked across the yard and made it to Obiageli's house. I was around so often, I had the liberty of walking in without knocking. I was about to step onto the verandah when Afam, Obiageli's twelve year old younger brother stepped out with a short broom.
"Ah sister Binye, good afternoon!" He greeted with a small bow of his head.
Conscious of how loud he was, I tightened my grip on my amkara strap bag and turned to look over my shoulder in Mazi Udoka's direction. Maduka's attention was now fixed on me. He still had his back to me, his hands were in the back pockets of his loose jeans as he stared at me over his shoulder. Mazi Udoka was standing by the entrance to his house, leaning on the railing that protected his veranda. Maduka's piercing gaze had me gulping inaudibly, I felt heat creeping up my neck to my face. I immediately looked away and refocused my attention on Afam who was watching me quizzically.
"Sister Obiageli is not around." He informed me.
"Oh, where did she go?" I asked in a small
voice. At this point I could hear my own heart pounding. I wondered if Maduka would speak to me. If I should speak to him.
Would it be strange not to?
Could he possibly be this anxious about my presence as well?
"Sister, did you hear me?" I heard Afam calling me and snapped out of my thoughts.
"No, sorry." I replied him. "What did say about where she went?"
"Oh I said she had to follow my mother somewhere but she said to tell you she'd meet you at Mazi Akude's farm." He said, wiping sweat from his brows with the back of this hand.
"Oh uhm alright." I replied. "I best be on my way then."
Afam nodded at me and I turned away. Maduka and Mazi Udoka weren't looking at me this time. They were still conversing in hushed voices. Maduka had arms cross this time, each finger under his arm. His gaze was lowered to the ground as he occasionally shook his head in understanding of his uncle's words. I shifted my gaze and began my journey out of the compound, idly toying with the trap of my bag as I walked. It was a long walk to my destination— Mazi Akude's farm. Obiageli was my usual company, I would stop by her house or we would rendezvous somewhere and walk together.
Mazi Akude was a lonely old man in the village. Obiageli and I became acquainted with him through Jama who had met the old man in his early childhood. Mazi Akude and Jama had a very special relationship. Jama had great respect and love for the old man; from him he received the closest thing to paternal guidance.
Mazi Akude had a large farm land in the village. Some years ago when he was looking for workers, coincidentally he ended up contracting Jama's father's workshop to fix one of his trucks. Jama heard of the work from the old man and took the job. Jama remained under his employment; working on the farm and delivering farm produce for him. Along the line, it became a ritual for Obiageli and I to join Jama at the farm. We mostly did it for fun but sometimes Mazi Akude compensated us with money or food crops. The best part about working on the farm was the beautiful lake we got to swim in after a day's work.
As I trekked to my destination, I made a turn. I thought I had made it safe until I heard the purr of an engine. The sound had me looking over my shoulder to find a sleek red Daewoo Racer car. I squinted, lifting my right hand to shield my eyes from the blinding sun. From the distance, I made out the outline of Maduka behind the wheel. I looked away and continued my journey, this time trying to pick up the pace. But the car reached me in a matter of seconds.
To my surprise, Maduka called out to me. "Do you need a lift?" He asked, his voice sounding like music to my ears.
I looked at him as I continued walking, the car moved slowly by my side. He had an arm extended to the steering wheel, the other gripping the gear.
What genre of man is this? A gift? Or something wicked.
"It's hot outside." He informed me like I wasn't already burning under the scorching sun. "If I had a pan, some oil and I cracked an egg. The heat could fry the egg in seconds."
"What are you doing?" I asked, watching him with an amused smile poking at my cheeks.
"Making a pitch that involves you on the passenger's seat of this car." He replied with a lazy smirk.
I chuckled and looked away for a second. We were still side-by-side. Him driving, me still trekking.
"I've got a stereo and I'll let you play with it." He added and I laughed again as I halted. The car stopped moving too. He leaned over, stretching his long body to push the door open for me.
Swinging my bag to the front, I got into his car and shut the door. I turned to stare at him, he was now leaning over the steering week, both hands gripping the wheel. His huge bare biceps were bunched at where the sleeve of his dark blue shirt ended.
Goodness gracious
"Where are you headed?" He asked me as he resumed his driving.
"Uhm you can just drop me along the road." I replied.
"I can actually take you anywhere." He assured me. "I've got nothing to do or nowhere important to be so it's fine really."
"Oh, okay then." I said. "Well in that case, I think it's better I give you directions as you drive. I assume you still don't know your way around the village."
"Okay, good." He replied.
"For now just keep driving straight. I'll tell you when you have to make a turn." I told him.
He responded with an understanding nod and drove. Silence stretched between us, giving me the opportunity to listen to the music playing from the stereo.
"Do you like what's playing?" He asked me, briefly glancing at me before fixing his eyes back on the road.
"The most beautiful girl in the world." I said in recognition. "Prince is such a beautiful singer."
"I agree." Maduka said then sighed deeply. "So just out of curiosity, do you mind telling me where you're going?" He asked again.
"A farm." I answered him. "My friends and I help with work there on weekends."
"Oh wow." He said seemingly amazed. "You really are diligent. You work weekdays and on weekends too."
"My job on weekdays isn't really a job." I corrected him. "At least not yet. It's sort of an apprenticeship thing and a hobby. And I don't have to go everyday but I choose to because I like what I do."
"You're really passionate about making dresses, aren't you?" He asked.
"I am." I smiled bashfully.
"Oh I would love to see something you made. I'm sure it'll be lovely." Maduka said.
"You can see one now." I said proudly. "I made what I have on right now."
"Really?" Maduka turned to scan the length of my body. I was wearing a brown floral chiffon dress. It had a small puff sleeves, a smoked upper body and flared knee length skirt. "It's so beautiful. God you look like an angel."
My heart started racing again. I giggled and said thank you to him. I smiled as I idly played with my bag feeling so incredibly shy.
"How old are you, Binyelum?" Maduka's random question reached my ears.
"Eighteen." I answered as I turned to watch him. "What about you?"
"Twenty-five." I heard him say. From the moment I saw him, I knew he had to be in his mid twenties.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" He enquired, much to my surprise. "Do you have ties to any man?"
"N-n-no," I stuttered at first, feeling nervous. "I really don't have have time for such entanglements." I replied him even though I knew deep down I felt the opposite. I wasn't opposed to romance in my life. I just wasn't bothered by the lack there of.
"Take a right turn here." I told him in a small voice, my heart still pounding from his question.
For some reason, I felt the need to expatiate further on my claim about not having time for entanglements. "I mean, If romance does come my way, I wouldn't run away from it. I really do want something pure and altruistic; I want it more than anything. I want that or nothing. Everyone should have that, don't you think so?"
"I'm not a man who conforms to the romance genre, Angel love." He said to me as he drove, his eyes were straight ahead. One arm was propped on the open car window and the other was stretched to the wheel.
I wondered how he could object to romance and refer to me as 'angel love.' Didn't he know it would throw my head and heart into confusion?
"I didn't realise there were other genres." I muttered as I rolled my eyes.
"When a man and woman are concerned, there's so many genres in the relationship spectrum." He informed me.
"And what are these genres?" I was getting curious.
"I'm afraid It might be a bit of a discomfort for you to hear my opinions." He said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked him, furrowing my brows in confusion.
"It means like you, I also want things my way or no way." He replied me. "But I'm a selfish degenerate who only knows how to take. Whether or not I get what I want, I have no interest in giving."
"You could just say you don't believe in love and relationships." I countered him, folding my arms.
"Okay, I don't believe in love and relationships." He said in a monotone.
"Why?" I asked so quickly. For some reason, the thought of Maduka not believing in love annoyed me more than I would like to admit.
"Because nothing good comes from giving half your attention to someone else. Soon that half will become more and the next thing you know, you're more committed to the 'us' than you are the 'you.' Eventually, you will regret it and that warm feeling you call love will sour to resentment which might burn more than the two parties involved." He said, speaking with so much emotion. I turned to him and found him gripping the wheel so hard the veins on his hands were visible. I felt there was a story behind his words, maybe a past relationship but I chose not to ask for any explanations.
"That's not what relationships are about, you know." I said instead. "Don't limit the notion of being in love to attention seeking and giving or whatever. You could love someone and still be selfless."
"If you can't love someone and let go then you're not selfless." Maduka responded, he turned to hold my gaze. "Can you really love someone and let them go?"
We held each other's gaze for a while before he turned away. I was silent, mulling his words in my head. "When you said you were a selfish degenerate, does that mean you wouldn't know how to let someone go if you loved them?"
"Not exactly. I'm selfish in the sense that I wouldn't give you my affection and I would even deprive myself off it too." He said solemnly.
"Why?" I asked.
He responded with a question. "Have you ever heard of the fight or flight response?"
"The two reactions one picks from in a stressful situation." I answered him.
"Someone once told me that being in love is like that." He said, matter of fact. "If you're staying, love is your fight and you're fleeing from something. But If you're fleeing from love, something else is probably worth fighting over in comparison so love is flight for you."
"So you're saying; leaving means your response to love is flight. And staying means your response to love is fight." I voiced, trying to piece his theory together. "And you also said asking someone to stay is an act of selfishness but letting them go is selflessness and the truest form of love."
"If you love someone, set them free..." He started.
"If it's meant to be, they will return to you." I completed the adage.
"I just prefer not to dive into a situation that will end with me having to choose between losing something I'll regret for a relationship or hurting someone for something inconsequential." He elaborated and shrugged nonchalantly. "I just can't see myself asking someone to make sacrifices for me. Relationships are too much work. I can't compromise myself like that."
Love is a compromise?
"What a strange philosophy you have, Maduka Ndubuisi." I said under my breath. "When we meet our soulmates, I hope it's instinctive to love them. I hope we never have to make the choice to hold on or leg go."
Maduka looked at me for what felt like an eternity. I could feel myself pulled towards him in more ways than I could comprehend. I eventually looked away and fixed my eyes on the landscape ahead. The car was nearing a junction slowly.
"Take a left turn here." I said then sighed.
In a bid to lighten the moment I decided to tease him. "You know, I find it hard to believe you've never been in a relationship. You've never had a woman in your life—"
"I never said that." He replied me with a smirk. "I've had relationships with women. Lots of them. Just not conventional relationships."
A suspicion grew in my head but I asked. "What do mean?"
"Intimacy." He simply said.
"You mean promiscuity." I replied beyond irritated.
He chuckled. "I guess..."
I scoffed. "Aren't you scared of having a child out of wedlock or something?"
"Funny you should say that..."
No way...
"You have a child?!" I asked in bewilderment.
"I'm expecting one." He corrected.
"Meaning you impregnated an innocent girl." I said.
"Why use the word innocent like I'm some big bad wolf who attacked her." He retorted.
"You might as well be." I responded.
"The fact that I enjoy meaningless intimacy doesn't make me an animal. I would never touch a woman if she doesn't consent." He stated firmly.
"So you seduce them then." I accused him point blank.
"It doesn't work like that." He corrected me. "It has to be a mutual attraction. A woman has to want me to be with her the same way I want her; no coercions whatsoever. It's the only way to truly gain pleasure, both of us."
"You're disgusting." I suddenly said. I couldn't believe all the things coming out of his mouth.
He chuckled. "You've never met a man like me before, have you?"
"Certainly! It's no wonder you don't believe in love." I said in realisation. "You prefer intimacy without the attachment. You were right to call yourself selfish. My father warns me against men like you."
"Look, I'm just being honest." Maduka said as if surrendering. "You will never catch me finessing a woman just to get her in my bed. I will be honest and she will come to me of free will."
"What? And what happens if either of you develops feelings?" I quizzed. I had no idea why I was so worked up over the topic.
As I listened to him, I realised he was a lot similar to my best friend, Obiageli. She was unabashed about meaningless intimacy with the opposite sex. She also enjoyed having a man's attention even when she was sure she wouldn't commit to him.
"Not my problem." He said with a snort. "I'm not committing to someone who confuses a climax for love. And believe me it happens to people."
"I never thought men like you actually existed." I said in disbelief. "My father talks to me about different types of men. He says promiscuous men like you weren't raised right by their parents."
"That's such a stupid thing your pretty mouth didn't need to say." He suddenly said.
"Did you just say my father is stupid?!" I shrieked. He suddenly pulled over by the side of the road.
"You really need to keep my parents out of your mouth." He warned me with a scowl on his face. "For Christ's sake, this is the second time you've done it."
"I didn't speak about your parents specifically. It's just a theory my father has. And I agree with him." I countered, refusing to back down. "I think if you don't treat women right, you must not have had a good relationship with your mother."
"You know, you don't have articulate every thought that pops in your head." He replied.
"I'm just saying—" He didn't even let me get the sentence in before interrupting me.
"I'm just saying you should stop talking now." He growled out. "You're in over your head If you think you know anything about my life, you brat!"
"Oh my God! Stop calling me a brat!" I yelled.
"Then stop acting like one and mind your business." He responded.
"Why are you so upset? Does that mean it's true?" I replied twisting my body to him. "You talked about not believing in love and not caring about who loves you."
"What do you care?" He asked in mock laughter. "What's it to you, Binyelum?"
"It's just unsettling hearing the way you speak." I admitted, throwing my hands up. "You sound like you're so comfortable with the idea of destroying people you touch and destroying yourself."
"You're saying a lot of nonsense and it's pissing me off." He said, smashing my heart to pieces. "The only thing that's true is you entertain garbage theories and your pretty mouth needs a bloody filter."
"You know, what? I don't have to deal with this." I said, unclipping my seatbelt. "I should listen to my father and stay away from reject scoundrels like you who will never nurture anything meaningful in their miserable lives."
"Is that another one of your father's theories about men like me?" He said in mockery. "Listen to your Daddy, Binye. Stay in your lane. I wouldn't want to destroy such a perfect daughter."
My face morphed into a scowl. "You're unbelievable!" I yelled at him and pushed the car door open.
Before he could say anything I slammed the door shut and started walking as fast as I could. His car remained parked for while. Then the car zoomed past me, speeding as if to convey his anger, leaving me behind a cloud of dust.
Efulefu!
~*~*~
My fist closed around the Okro stem and I pulled hard. Withdrawing my arm, I flung it over my shoulder towards the basket on the ground, not bothering to check it it landed inside the basket or not.
"Maybe you should stop." Obiageli said next me. I shifted on my knees and reached for more but she gently pushed my hands away. "You've been in such a foul mood since you arrived and you're not focused. Look at what you've done, there's more Okro on the ground than there are in your basket. Plus most of the ones in your basket are crushed because of your tight grip. Jama is not going to be happy when he sees you ruining the crops."
We were at the farm working. Jama was at another side of the property working while Obiageli and I plucked Okro. We were both on our knees for better assess. To be honest, my head wasn't even in the day's work. All I could think about was my quarrel with Maduka earlier. It was all I could think about for hours.
I let out an exasperated sigh and lowered my body so I was sitting on my calves. "Can I ask you something?" I asked her.
"If it'll clear your head, go ahead." She replied, still working. Her gloves are brownish from coming in contact with the soil.
I started awkwardly. "So when you first did it, after it happened—"
"Did what?" She interrupted, eyeing me curiously. I gave her an awkward look and she laughed. "Oh that!"
"Yes, that! So when you first did it, did you have feelings for the person?" I asked feeling so stupid for even having to ask.
"Feelings?" She asked with a confused sneer on her pretty face. "As in was I feeling cold or heat or itchy?"
"What? No!" I responded and groaned at her confusion. "I mean romance! As per romantic feelings."
"Isi gini? Ogini bu romance?" She asked then laughed boisterously. "Nne, It was just me listening to my body oh. Nothing else. Biko which one is romance again?"
"So you didn't develop feelings after it happened?" I asked. No matter how long I thought about it, it didn't seem plausible that people would engage in sexual intercourse without any prior emotional ties or without forming one after.
"Uhm no." She said like it was the most obvious thing in this world. "Unless you liked the person before it happened. But liking someone after sex is farfetched. I personally think when people say that happens they're just confused from having good sex. Maybe they've been having bad sex before so they wouldn't know the norm and presume it to be special."
Maduka said the exact same thing!
That people confuse a good climax for love...
"So do you believe in love?" I asked her.
"Of course!" She replied. "I'm in love with the idea of a rich man coming to wipe my tears with wads of naira notes and carrying me off into the sunset."
I hissed and rolled my eyes as I turned away to gather the Okro I had absentmindedly thrown on the ground. "Well good luck to you. If that's your ideal, perhaps you should marry one of the king's sons fighting over you."
She snorted. "Please, none of them are man enough for me. I can't be tamed!"
"If you say so." I answered her, rolling my eyes with a small smile on my lips. "Queen of hearts."
She chortled and playfully shoved me. "My love, but this one you're asking, do you have a man that wants to get under your skirts?"
My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. "What!? No!"
Obiageli laughed her heart out. "Are you sure? Do you have someone you like? Hmm, is that it? You like him but he wants to get under your skirt?"
The thought of Maduka getting under my skirts had my cheeks heating up faster than our kerosene stove. I couldn't understand why it bothered me that he had been intimate with other women. Most of my anger stemmed from the fact that he did not believe in love. He spoke about it with utter disgust. It riled me up because it felt like he was ridiculing the likes of me who very much believed in fairytale love stories.
Why do I care so much?
It's not like I want a romance with him.
The mere thought of Maduka made feel so warm inside. His presence always made me nervous, when he watched me it made me feel like we were the only ones in the world— and that comforted my heart. I had never had any feelings of any kind for a man so I couldn't make sense of my attraction towards this man.
Is this an infatuation?
Or is it something stronger?
And if so, is it mutual?
"Binyelum!" Obiageli's fingers were snapping rapidly in my face and I shook my head as if shaking my wild thoughts away. "Are you actually daydreaming? Biko, who is this man? I know it has to do with the question about intimacy you randomly brought up."
"Don't be ridiculous. There's no man, Obi." I lied through my teeth, avoiding her gaze. "I was just curious, that's all."
I didn't feel comfortable telling my friends about Maduka because everything about being around him felt so forbidden. I couldn't forget how Obiageli herself had spoken ill of his family. She would no doubt caution me to steer clear off him. Jama would be no different. His scuffle with Maduka would still be fresh in his mind. He swore to never let it go that Maduka had pushed me.
I watched Obiageli for a moment wondering if she had ever met Maduka. Since I had seen him in her family compound earlier. And her family was known to help his uncle, Mazi Udoka. Could she have met him? Did she know who he was?
"You've always been a terrible liar but I'll drop it." Obiageli said to me. "But let me say this: I've been friends with you my entire life. And we're like oil and water— polar opposites. But you've never judged me. And even though I egg you to live on the wild side sometimes, I never push you further than you hold your ground. So If you're attracted to someone completely different from you, don't try to judge them or change them."
"But don't you think a change in one person is necessary?" I asked. "If not you won't be compatible."
"No one owes you a personality adjustment. And you don't owe it to anyone either." She corrected me sternly. "Even if you want to steer someone off a self destructive character, keep in mind that change can only happen if the person in question agrees that they have a problem."
"So," I said then sighed deeply. "if someone has a problematic way of thinking, of living, I should just ignore it?"
"You can't change the world, Binye." Obiageli told me and chuckled softly. "Not that way at least. Ask yourself if you have the right to even attempt to oppose the person. In relationships, if someone ever opposes you, tries to control or change you; that's a red flag. If you see that, you should run."
Maduka had said something similar about changing for someone, giving someone too much and how it would always end in regret. I stared off into space letting her words sink in.
"My wives!" Jama's voice suddenly reached our ears. I turned to find him behind us. He was in shorts and wife beater, fanning himself with his large straw hat.
"Who is your wife? You this stupid boy." Obiageli eyed him. "I could never marry such a poverty stricken man please."
"Stop barking, Obi. It's not attractive." Jama fired back and narrowly missed her punch that flew towards his legs. He chuckled and continued. "Anyways, this is where we call it a day. Let's go wash off in lake, kids!" He said and pumped his fist in the air.
"Finally." Obiageli sprang up, she picked her basket and she walked away.
I rose up and reached for my basket but Jama was quicker than me. He effortlessly picked me up off the ground and hurled me over his shoulders.
I squealed. "Jamalumchi, put me down!" I was just so thankful I was wearing shorts.
"No can't do!" He laughed as he began to run. "You're heading straight to a big big splash!"
"What!? Why? Don't do this to me! Please, I've been nice to you!" I cried out, beating his back with my fist. "Why can't you be nice back!?"
"This is me being nice!" He retorted.
"What about the Okro I plucked! You just left it there!" I whined.
"I'll go back for it." He responded. "I'm the one who takes them outside town, remember?"
"Jama, please put me down now!" I pleaded. "I'll bite you oh! Or... I'll pinch your bumbum!"
His laughter was so loud I felt the vibration radiating off his big body. "Joke's on you, those happen to be my kinks! Besides keep in mind that your little butt cheeks are next to my face so It won't be a problem returning the favour."
I groaned in frustration. "You disgusting pig!"
He cackled till eventually we got to the lake. Over his shoulder I could see Obiageli already swimming around, watching us with an amused look on her face. The water was so beautiful and clean, I could make out Obiageli's body even though she was inside.
Usually, we changed out of our regular clothes into loose clothes to work at the farm. Taking a swim was the best way to wash off sweat and dirt. Most times we swam in our underwear. Considering what Jama had planned, it was obvious I wouldn't have the time to strip off my work clothes today.
I held my breath, expecting Jama to toss me in any moment. To my surprise, he put me down but still locked his arms around my torso. He ran, dragging me along with him towards the lake and I squealed. Eventually we got waist deep in water. He began to toss water at my face mischievously.
I tried to retaliate but his attack was stronger. So I came up with a genius plan. I suddenly squealed and awkwardly reached for my eyes, scratching away. I decided to put more into my acting and winced dramatically. Jama stopped his attack and reached for me, pulling me into his long arms.
"What's that? Something got in your eyes?" He asked softly, he cupped my cheeks and tilted my head up.
Jama was six feet tall, a staggering nine inches taller than me. He had a habit of lifting my head when he wanted me to meet his eyes. His face was so beautiful, not even the slanted scar tissue running from the side of his eyebrow down his temple could alter how handsome he was. He was really popular with women in the village. Everyone liked having the hardworking, charismatic Jama Iwegbuna around.
Jama's fingers moved to pry my eyes open when I struck, elbowing him in the solar plexus. The movement had the water rippling around us. He grunted, crouched and withdrew his hands from my face. Since his body was slightly crouched over, I took the opportunity to push his head down under the water and swam away with a victorious laughter.
Jama quickly resurfaced and caught me before I could get very far. His arms locked around my waist from behind. "Hold it right there. So you think you can outwit the master?"
I giggled, fighting his hold on my waist.
"Outwit this!" I heard Obiageli's voice as she suddenly jumped over Jama's shoulders. This forced him to release me and I used the opportunity tie swimming to safety, laughing as I watched my friends wrestling in the lake like alligators.
Much later on, Jama and I had gotten out of the water and were sitting on a large boulder drying off with the sun. Jama was just in his boxers and I was in a singlet and my shorts. Obiageli still swam around in the lake.
"I'm worried about Sister Gladys." Jama said to me. His legs were arched, one arm was stretched, resting on his knee.
"Why?" I asked with a frown. "I saw her earlier this week and she seemed fine. I actually meant to go see her this morning but I overslept and by the time I was up, it was time to report to the farm."
"Well, I saw her three days ago and she didn't look like herself." Jama replied. "The following day I went to see her and I was told she was in bed. The other sisters didn't let me see her . Then yesterday, I went to the orphanage again and I heard the same thing."
"That's really strange." I admitted. "I hope it's nothing serious. Do you think she'll be at mass tomorrow morning?"
"I hope so." Jama said then puffed his cheeks.
Obiageli came out of the water and began to approach us. "We should get going." She said, standing akimbo, a posture riveting my eyes to her beautiful wide hips. Her skin was even fairer under the sun as she stood in her big soaked knickers and a singlet. She started towelling her skin with a small towel. "It'll be sunset soon, come on guys. Let's get dressed."
Jama jumped off the boulder and picked me like I was toddler, helping me down to my feet. Since we had been out of the water for a while, we were already dry. We proceeded to change and walked home together.
~*~*~
My night was much longer than usual. I laid in bed worrying about Sister Gladys' health. The only the thing that mitigated my worries was the fact that I would see her the following day for Sunday mass. If I didn't see her, I told myself I would go find her at the orphanage to check on the state of her health.
Maduka wasn't far from my thoughts either. He dominated my mind like it was his very own playground. I thought about Obiageli's advice about not trying to change someone. And how she proclaimed if there's a change to occur, it had to occur naturally.
Would Maduka ever change?
Would Maduka ever believe in love and the peace a union could bring?
Would he ever believe in commitments?
Why do I care so much?
Would it bother me if he never changed?
Morning came by quickly, it was Sunday. My father's knock on my door woke me up. He announced he would be taking his bath and asked me to get ready for mine so we could make it to mass early. After my father came out, he knocked on the door, signalling me he was done with the bathroom. I left my room and proceeded to take my bath and do my morning routine.
In mass, I kept looking around. I didn't find Sister Gladys until much later when she came out, climbing the alter to take a reading. When mass ended, my father exchanged pleasantries with some friends and acquaintances. People began to file out of church and head home. I waved at Obiageli, watching her as she ushered her younger siblings out, her parents in tow. My father placed a hand on my shoulder and asked if I was ready to leave.
I turned to Jama who was standing next to us. We always stayed together in church, like a family. He sometimes rode with us. My Dad would drop him off from church.
"I actually wanted to see Sister Gladys." I told my father. We were by the exit. I looked behind to watch Sister Gladys who was seated at the very first pew by the right, conversing with Father Edmund.
"Don't worry, I can walk home." I told my father.
"Alright, then." Papa said then turned to Jama. "Eh, Jama will stay behind as well? Or should I drop you home?"
Jama stared at me as if to communicate telepathically. "I'll stay. Then I'll walk Binyelum home."
"Okay, then. You kids take care." Papa said and entered his now repaired four by four truck and drove off.
Jama and I went back inside the church and found Sister Gladys sitting alone this time. We moved closer and stopped before her. She looked up at us and fixed us a warm smile. Her eyes were crinkled at the sides. She had wrinkles on her forehead and lose skin hanging at her jaw from old age but she still looked beautiful dressed in the habit.
"My children, how are you?" She asked us, gesturing for us to take a sit. "I hope you are well. How's your health?"
"Sister Gladys, you're not the one meant to be asking that." Jama grumbled out as we both settled on the pew on each of her sides.
"What do you mean?" She asked with a frown.
"You've been unwell." Jama said, straight to the point. "The other sisters told me. I've been to the orphanage looking for you, I was told you wanted to stay in bed resting and didn't want any visitors."
"Sister Gladys, what's wrong?" I asked her and she reached out to caress my cheek. "It's not like you to stay in bed for days and refuse visitors, much less Jama and I."
"There's really nothing to it, my children." She said softly. "I'm an old woman. And my body needs longer breaks now, that's all."
Sister Gladys managed the orphanage with the assistance of the younger reverend sisters. She also had her duties to the church which included evangelisms with the priest, within and outside the village. Sister Gladys was also one of the voluntary teachers at the village school. She occasionally carried out home visits to check on the students' families.
Back when we were still in secondary school, Jama frequently missed classes. He wouldn't show up for days. Most times, when he did, he would be in bad shape— emaciated, bruised and disoriented. Sister Gladys would pay to Augustine Iwegbuna, Jama's father multiple visits over the years. The visits were always unsuccessful. Because another incidence of abuse would soon follow. Now, It wasn't so bad because Jama got older and learned to handle himself to an extent.
"When you work in the lord's vineyard, it's sometimes easy to forget you've aged and need to slow down." She said. "Father Edmund wants me to stop going on Evangelisms outside Ijeli."
"Sister, I'm sorry but I think that's a good idea." Jama voiced. "Most people don't want to hear the word of God at all. Even in this our village, we know them. And you're too old to keep putting yourself in harm's way."
It was relatively common for evangelists to be abused— verbally and physically. Sister Gladys herself had endured abuse of different manners even in our village. Augustine Iwegbuna himself had gone ballistic several times on her, screaming and threatening her to stay away from his family affairs.
"Jamalumchi, walking the path of the lord's can never been harm's way for me." Sister Gladys responded solemnly.
"I understand, ma. Truly, I do." Jama admitted in a much softer tone. "I'm sorry but this is coming from a place of love. You're the closest thing Binye and I have to a mother in our lives. We just want to be sure you're in good health. Growing up, you always prioritised our health. I remember how many times you've had to personally tend to my injuries after my father beat me."
Jama's words touched my heart. Sister Gladys reached out and took his hand in hers. "Your father hasn't done that lately, has he?" Sister Gladys asked Jama.
"Not since the incident earlier this year." Jama replied her.
"You tell me if he ever misbehaves, okay?" Sister Gladys reached out and lightly stroked the scar tissue on his right temple, recalling the ghastly injury that had missed his eye by only a few inches.
Six months ago, Jama's father had lost it and attacked his son with an empty bottle. I saw it with my two eyes. I had gone to check on Jama after he'd failed to show up at the farm one weekend. I had literally arrived to watch the attack. Jama had slumped to the ground. In a matter of minutes, he had passed out for severe blood loss. His father went back inside the house as if nothing happened while I held my friend, screaming for help.
We didn't have any hospitals in our village, the closest we had to medical care was a health centre two towns away, and a more advanced hospital in Owerri. Since my father was away at the time, I had to run to the orphanage to get help. Sister Gladys had rushed over to drive us to the health centre. Jama would shift in and out of consciousness on the one hour long journey. He eventually got stitched up and soon recovered the attack. He switched between staying at our house and the orphanage for fear of his father for days. Eventually he returned home and his father barely even acknowledged him or the incident.
My best friend had been through so much. But he was the most diligent and most cheerful amongst the rest of us. If you ever tried to bring up sentimentalities regarding his life, he would immediately shrug it off.
"It's fine, my father barely gets out of bed these days." Jama replied. "Don't worry about me. This isn't about me, please. I want you to be okay."
"I am okay." Sister Gladys responded. "As you see I'm on my feet. I will even be driving to Umuowa on Tuesday to get books and other school items we requested for the children at the orphanage and in school."
"Are you strong enough to drive?" Jama asked. "Because I have some deliveries for Mazi Akude in Umuowa on the same Tuesday. I'll be driving so I can drop you off on my way."
"No, it's fine my son." Sister Gladys replied. "I can drive."
"Okay then." Jama said. "But please make sure you don't go alone."
"Of course." Said Sister Gladys. "I'll be sure to go with company."
~*~*~
Monday morning, I was at work. Usually at work, there was always an uncomfortable air between my coworkers and I. But after the incident with Maduka showing up to apologise to me, things seemed more awkward. My coworkers would look at me and make insinuations, speaking to themselves. Sometimes, they would snicker in unison. It was obvious I was the subject of their tittle-tattle. But I chose to ignore them and focus on my work.
At some point in the afternoon, a customer walked in. We all greeted her. Nkiru had been outside tacking a dress on a mannequin. Ginika who liked to pride herself as the oldest and second in charge of the shop, left her work station to engage the customer while Olaedo my last coworker remained inside with me. The customer balanced her sack bag on her arm and moved to one of the dresses on a mannequin outside.
"The dress is so beautiful." The woman said as she moved around the mannequin to get a view of the back of the dress. She would touch it, move around and lift the fabric and exclaim in appreciation.
The dress in question was a dress I had designed for a customer. It was a straight dress with an off shoulder and long sleeves that flared at the elbows. The dress was cinched at the waist and asymmetrical in such a way that it was knee length at the front but floor length at the back.
"Ma, would you like to see other styles inside? We even have a magazine inside the shop." Nkiru said, jerking her thumb inside the shop.
"No, that won't be necessary." The woman replied dismissively. "I've been eyeing this particular dress for a while. I've been seeing it on my way to and from the market for some days now. I want to wear it when my fiancé comes to see my people!"
Ginika squealed in excitement. "Wow, congratulations oh. We can definitely make this for you! You will look like a true beauty that day, I can just tell! Do you have your fabric?"
"Mba." The woman replied and made a tsk tsk sound. "But I can get that soon. You see, I ran into your madam at the market the other day and told her about this dress and how I fell in love with it. I was shocked when she actually said one of her girls designed it. You girls are talented oh! Keep it up, your talents will take you far."
We all thanked her in unison.
"Madam, come let me take your body measurements." Ginika began to make her way to the shop, beckoning the customer to come along.
"Eh sorry oh but are you the one that made the dress?" The customer asked with a lighthearted giggle. "You see, I actually prefer the original designer to tailor it for me, everything from measurements to the sewing."
Ginika who was now at the entrance to the main shop, turned and locked eyes with me. It was a short look but she looked at me with so much contempt as if daring me.
"Binyelum made it, ma." To my surprise, Olaedo spoke up. "That's her right there."
Ginika and Nkiru outside exchanged knowing looks. Olaedo rolled her eyes before resuming her work. Ginika and Nkiru were the mean girls of the shop. Ginika was the lead, Nkiru was more like her sidekick who tried too hard to make an impression. Olaedo sometimes was neither on their bad side nor on their good side.
The customer came inside the shop and approached me. I stood up to greet her. She complimented me on being a good designer and I thanked her. She told me she had already discussed with my madam. I grabbed my jotter and pen. Removing the measuring tape that was around my neck, I proceeded to take her body measurements.
After a while, I had finished taking the customer's body measurements. She told me she would be coming with her fabric in two days. I bade her goodbye and she left. I didn't even get to sit down before my coworkers began to hound me.
"You must feel like you're walking ten feet above the rest of us." Ginika began. "Bịa, mee ka m mara. Who do you actually think you are?"
"Me too I want to know!" Nkiru chipped in. "Every time, you take customers from us. Allow us work too please! Are you the only one here? You selfish girl! Stop stealing all the customers!"
I sat down at my work station and continued my work on the dress I was working on before. I wanted to start moving the machine with my feet but to my surprise Ginika stomped on my foot hard and pressed it down against the foot pedal.
"Are you mad?" She asked me. "Am I talking to myself?"
"What do your want from me?" I asked calmly.
"I want you to know your place and respect the boundaries in this work environment." Ginika replied.
Frowning I asked: "How am I supposed to do that?"
Nkiru exclaimed at the same time Ginika said: "Nwa gboho na pa su mua ezigbote iwe! Binyelum, are you trying to make me look stupid? Or are you the stupid one? Either way you don't want to provoke me."
I wondered how exactly I was provoking her and what she could possibly do to me. I wished I could get up and leave. I knew I was was outnumbered so I had to be wise. Olaedo hardly spoke up in times like this, she would occasionally laugh when they picked on me, other times she ignored the situation. It didn't help that I was the youngest in the shop. I always felt unaccepted.
"Hold your ears and listen carefully. Let this be the last time you steal customers from us, Binyelum." Nkiru warned me like I was her child.
"I haven't stolen anything from you." I said through my teeth.
"Then release your grip on the customers." Nkiru retorted.
"You saw that she came to me just now." I replied in annoyance.
"Mechi onu!" Ginika countered. She then mimicked me but spoke deliberately in a mock high pitched tone. "One day, this shop won't be big enough for us so you had better behave. If you know what's good for you, you'll respect yourself, you'll respect us because no one here is your mate. Do you understand?"
My coworkers were all in their early twenties, but I was still pushing eighteen. Ginika was the oldest, followed by Nkiru and then Olaedo. They always threw the seniority factor in my face at the slightest inconvenience.
I decided to tone out their voices and lifted my head to lock eyes with Olaedo, she looked at me deadpan. I wondered what sort of person she was. She seemed to not have a care in the world. Soon everyone settled at their work station and the hours flew by quickly. The sun went into hiding and dark clouds filled the sky. It became so chilly like it was about to rain. I looked outside my window to observe the weather. I didn't have an umbrella on me today, neither did I come with my bicycle and it was a distance from my workplace to my house. I looked at my thin leather wristwatch and realised It was now closing time.
"It's going to rain." Nkiru stated the obvious. "We should start packing up."
Ginika was in charge of locking up the shop. We usually took turns cleaning, after which Ginika would lock up and take the key to our madam. Olaedo swept half the shop and passed me the broom. After that she grabbed her bag and left. Nkiru was getting ready to leave as well while Ginika sat cross-legged at her station, waiting for me. As I swept, I got on my knees so I could reach some pieces of fabric under the large shelf where we stored fabrics and rolls of threads. I awkwardly placed a hand on the dirty floor as I began to remove the pieces with my other hand. Amidst this task, a shadow fell over me and I lifted my head to find Ginika leering at me.
"What is that scar?" She asked sneering as she flailed her hand at me. The angle of bending over had given her a view of my cleavage. There was something so humiliating about being on my knees and her on her feet, querying me. "The nasty scar between your breasts."
Feeling so self conscious, I tugged the neck line of my dress up and continued my work. I prayed within my heart Ginika wouldn't probe any further because it was a subject I hated addressing with people.
The scar across my sternum had a very painful sentiment I didn't like divulging to strangers. Only my father, Sister Gladys and my best friends knew the origin. Puberty had given me sizeable breasts which brought me too much attention. But they were big enough to cover the lower half of the scar when I was in clothes. Still the top of the scar tissue could easily be seen peaking between the hollow of my breasts. My scar always made me self-conscious about the neckline of the clothes I wore. When I did wear clothes with plunging necklines, I was sure to wear a singlet or a camisole underneath so as to hide my scar from prying eyes. But sometimes it was impossible to hide my scar and people had very insensitive reactions to the sight.
"I'm talking to you, Binyelum." Ginika's shrill voice pierced my ears, her tone oozing her annoyance at being ignored. She kicked my hand, trying to stop me from gathering the pieces on the floor. "What happened to your chest? I hope it is not what I think it is."
I stuck with my decision to ignore her and continued the task at hand. I stood up, swept the dirt into the dustpan and poured it into a black nylon bag.
"Isi gini?" Nkiru asked, walking closer. "What is going on?"
"She has a strange marking on her body" Ginika replied Nkiru. "Between her breasts!"
"What?" Nkiru replied in shock. "Her breasts?!"
"How did you get that scar?" Ginika asked me, I ignored her and continued gathering dirt into the nylon bag. "Are you deaf?" She asked me. I rose up and walked past her, ramming my shoulder into hers in the process.
I refuse to be a pity case.
I walked out of the shop with the black nylon bag in my grip. Outside, It was even cloudier. There was a large rusty barrel where we disposed our garbage. It was just opposite the shop but quite a distance. As I walked there, I felt at least three tiny drops of rain on my arm, a forewarning to hurry up and leave. I tossed the nylon into the barrel and turned around to find Ginika and Nkiru on the portico, locking up the shop. My belongings were still inside the shop, they knew this, this was deliberate.
I ran back to the shop. I climbed the portico and stopped behind them.
"What are you doing?" I asked Ginika, she was bent over, fumbling with the padlock.
"You have eyes and a brain." Nkiru responded sarcastically. "Make the deduction."
Ignoring the underling, I spoke to Ginika. "Ginika, my things are still inside."
She scoffed and finally turned to face me. She looked me straight in the eyes impassively and spoke. "That's your problem, Ogbanje."
I wish I could say it's the first time I've heard that word
I wish I could say it was the first time it was thrown at me
"Never in your life, never again. Never ever use that word on me." I warned her solemnly.
I was caught off guard when Ginika yanked the neckline of my chiffon dress so hard I heard it rip. She then proceeded to shove me away from her. I barely stopped myself from crashing into the column wedged at the side of the shop. I looked down my body and saw half my black brassiere and my scar.
"Don't you ever talk to me like that!" Ginika jabbed her finger in the air, warning me. "I will mess you up, you hear me? I knew you weren't right. Look at the hideous mark you have on your body! You disgusting girl, are you even really Christian!?" She barked in my face. I felt tears filling up my eyes and prayed they wouldn't drop. "Why would you have such a mark on your body? On your chest! Did your parents do this to you? Your mother perhaps?"
"Keep my mother out of your mouth!" I screamed at her. "Just shut up! You don't know what you're saying!"
"Oh my God, Is that why she's an absentee?! Is that why she abandoned you?" Ginika faked a gasp and continued verbally tormenting me. "Your mother did this to you, didn't she? To keep you here? How unfortunate. Life would be so much better if you weren't here."
"Maybe it's only a matter of time." Nkiru said then cackled into her hands. "Look at how small she is, it's so obvious! I wonder if she has an iyi-uwa somewhere."
"How revolting! The mere sight of you harms my eyes!" Ginika said.
I gripped her arm. "Give me the key. Give me the key now! I need to get my things."
Ginika shoved so hard I lost my balance this time. My rear slammed into the hard cemented floor as I struggled to hold my torn dress together, clutching at the lose area trying not to flash them my breasts.
"Stay on the ground..." She leered down at me, shifting her peeling leather bag on her arm to strike a pose, her other hand was on her waist. "...beneath me where you belong."
Ginika sashayed away, with her underling Nkiru marching behind her as they left me on the floor, in my ripped clothes. I rubbed my hands over my face and screamed out in frustration.
What could I possibly do in this situation?
My bag was still inside. I could leave it and head home but dress was torn so badly I couldn't manage to walk home like this and home wasn't exactly close by. Plus there's the matter of the imminent rain. If I could get inside the shop, I would be able to stitch the dress just fine.
I stoop up and moved to the iron doors of the shop. I began to tug at the chains hoping by some power I could break it open. I slammed the heel of my palms into the hard metal and screamed as I felt tears streaming my cheeks. I was so angry at myself for appearing too weak to be bullied. I thought I had passed that phase. My mind replayed all the insults I received from my coworkers, I wished I could shake the hurt off but here I was triggered.
I wasn't sure how long I aimlessly fumbled with the locked doors. Eventually, I stopped and rested against the doors, my forehead pressed into the hard cold steel. The sound of feet approaching reached my ears and I spun around in shock, hoping by some chance my coworkers returned with the key and my dignity perhaps. But my teary eyes locked with Maduka's penetrating eyes.
A/N: You don't want to miss the next chapters. Give me a follow for more updates! And you can also vote by tapping the star at the bottom of the screen. Leave a comment and share!