When Bisi crossed the main road to buy some cashew nuts, he rebuked Emelda saying “Who asked you to bring her along?”
“Is anything the matter?”
“I didn’t say I wanted two women. Did I?”
“Today is Sunday and she was bored”
“Damn. You are more intelligent than this?”
Emelda convinced him she just wanted to show her around, buy some snacks for her and afterwards ask her to leave. That she would not be with her throughout their outing.
“You had better send her home”
“So soon?”
“Yes. Come up with a believable story. Think”
“I am sorry I won’t lie”
“She won’t step her feet inside this car”
“Donald”
“You heard me”
Emelda went closer to him and took his hand.
“You heard me” he repeated, slowly removing his hand from her grip.
“Okay. Tell her yourself”
“I wasn’t the one that asked her out. Come on, Eme.”
“But you know it hurts. She has already dressed to have some fun with her big sister”
“You are deceiving yourself. Big sister”
“Why do you like talking to me like that?”
“Because you sometimes think like a fowl”
Emelda couldn’t take it any longer and didn’t know when she slipped with her tongue “Just like you sometimes behave like a dog”
“What did you say?” Donald asked as if he didn’t understand what she meant. Emelda was silent now but seething with anger. Though she was beginning to regret why she talked back at him. But for how long would she continue to keep quiet each time he cussed her; he had always done this at any slightest provocation.
She had endured it many many times. He had a problem with controlling his temper and this was unbecoming of a person of his pedigree, Emelda had told him several times.
Emelda thought people from the royal family should be noble in their deeds and words. Each time Donald blabbed, cussed, or howled, she wondered if he truly came from the descent of Ozubili, the kingdom in Anambra that had existed for almost half a century and was reputed for their quality leadership and decent children.
Some of them went abroad to study and the latest school leaver, Donald, had graduated with first class in Business Administration. Emelda very well knew where her boyfriend had come from, and expected more from him than what she saw.
The first day she doubted if she could continue her relationship with Donald was the day Donald’s elder brother was coroneted the king of Ozubili kingdom after the demise of their father. She had gone to celebrate with him, just a few days after they started serious dating. She loved what she saw.
Some activities were done to entertain the audience –which served also as a memorial. A band group, all men, dressed in a wrapper—a garment known to be woman’s—and without footwear, danced swiftly to the ovation of the crowd. They wore bracelets and some ishika in their feet, which chinked as they danced.
Emelda could also see some beautiful, tiny bells and symbolic metals snaked around their waist. They also clinked as they shook their body to the reverberating sound, dexterously played by the bare-chested, stour men in the music group. It was so entertaining that Emelda wished such ceremony would be regular.
She was never as entertained. Especially when one wrestler challenged the other to a duel. They had started the fight with dramatic seriousness that Emelda didn’t notice it was all for entertainment. She sat a little bit close to Donald, who seemed to be unhappy, and watched all the performances.
It was when her mother asked him to join his elder brother, Douglas, who was born by the first queen…to join him in a dance, to celebrate with his brother, to celebrate with his king that Emelda got a dim view of his boyfriend’s attitude. She didn’t like the manner he replied to her Mummy as though they were mates. His rudeness was appalling.
And Emelda later learned that he had replied to his Mummy in that manner because his Mummy addressed his elder brother as his king—someone that was only two years older than him. Someone that had only the privilege of being the next king by succession not that he truly deserved it judging from his conduct. He had told his Mummy that he wouldn’t stoop so low to dance with him and he was not his king.
Emelda was shocked and pretended she didn’t hear those vile words. They had just started dating and this would have scared her away but she cautioned herself not to quit so soon, and to give him the benefit of doubt. Otherwise, she had decided right there never to have anything to do with someone who didn’t know how to talk to his mother.
If he could be that saucy even to his Mum, the woman that carried her in the womb for nine good months, what would be her fate as a girlfriend and probably as a wife?
She slept over this incident before agreeing to continue the date. The only thing, which she called her mistake on that day, was that she didn’t rebuke him, and he never knew she was angry. She held back her emotion intact, and acted as if nothing happened when she was actually boiling in her heart; if not for her self-restraint, she would have left the palace without informing him. And would have ended the relationship.
“She is not leaving with us. I am not gonna repeat myself”
“You have not changed. I am not surprised,” Emelda said, remembering how she had talked back at her Mum on the coronation day “Today, you are moody, the next day, you are playing with sweet words. Another day, you are a beast”
“You can call me all that you want but she is not going with us,” Donald said, leaning on the car, with both hands in his pocket.
They stood silent for a while before he took her hands and started petting her.
“Take your filthy hands off me,” Emelda said and looked at him with a scowl. She was going to turn her back on him when she saw Bisi. Meanwhile, Donald was persistent in his apology, trying to get her to smile again. But immediately he saw Bisi, he went back to his shell, quiet, staring at them and showing less remorse.
Bisi was crossing the road to join them when she saw the duo exchanging words. She heard a sound when she looked left to cross the road. It was the sound of a slap but she didn’t know who slapped whom or where the sound came from. Or was she hallucinating? Because she didn’t think any of them had the arrogant heart to do so.
On reaching where they stood, with the car parked at the pedestrian side of the road as they waited for her to buy the nuts, she saw how they quickly pulled themselves together and smiled. Especially Donald. He appeared very smart, acting in every way possible to hide his dark intention. But Bisi noticed it. She could see his words and gestures –they were expressive of his insincerity.
He would take her to the beach next tomorrow, didn’t he remember? On Tuesday, they would go out to enjoy themselves, have fun and probably lodge in a hotel till the following day. She had prepared, and rehearsed a pretty excuse or rather lies she would use to beguile her Mummy into accepting her truth.
Now, she could also see the problem between the spouses there and would put off any suspicion. She didn’t know Emelda had planned to go out with Donald when she told her to dress up so they could go catch some fun, otherwise, she would have been reluctant to give in to the request. Or would have even refused totally.
In a bid to avoid further suspicion, she said to Emelda “My Mummy must be looking for me. She wasn’t around when we left. Could I go?”
Emelda looked at her innocence, the tenderness with which she uttered those words. And liked her more. “I should have told your Mummy earlier before she left”
“Don’t worry, Aunty” Bisi stole some glances at Donald before saying “Next time. Make sure you buy me some sweet orange juice”
“I will,” she said. She liked that Bisi was the only girl or even neigbour that kept her company otherwise she would have died of loneliness. And she had come to love her dearly even without knowing it.
She looked as Bisi walk away, showing no sign of disappointment. Emelda would have said that had it been another girl, she would have been sad. But here was she, poised, calm, and collected, matching forward with her red little bag. And one would think that such a teenager had a body that belied her actual age.
“Look at someone you call your little sister. Look at the way she sashays, look; she knows what you don’t know” Donald said, opening her car.
“I am not doubting that. I like her; I want to groom her. People change because of their mentors. Children change because of their parents”
“When their parents are leading by example. Bisi, or whatever you call her, does she have quality parents? Her parents might have been too carefree. And look at it, it has left an imprint in their daughter”
“She can change. I am doing everything possible to help. Since she is close to me than she had ever been, I think, with my influence, she would be a good girl”
“She knows what you don’t know; you may want to be careful” Donald put on foreign music, ‘Queen of My Heart by West Life, and drove off. Emelda acknowledged the scent of the car. And more importantly, the air conditioner was working effectively.
Donald was singing along, nodding, and looking out the rearview to see who was behind them. Emelda was silent, sometimes looking at the gear, the staring, the break, and all the places he was touching while driving.
“Are you learning?” Donald caught her.
“You have refused to teach me”
“And you think you can learn it merely by staring at me”
“It is possible”
“We learn by doing, Eme. Stop kidding me” Donald gripped his break very fast. “God!”
“You would have hit that old woman” Emelda’s heart jumped out.
“Stupid old woman. They don’t look where they are going”
Emelda kept her cool for some time until she couldn’t endure it. Why would he call her a stupid woman? She knew she was old enough to be his grandmother. What if she had looked but didn’t see them coming, or had an eye problem and couldn’t have seen anything from afar? What if? She asked him.
“I am sorry. I agree with you,” Donald said.
Emelda had been learning his temperament but it seemed the more she learned the cloudier it got. He could be apologetic sometimes, she agreed, but it didn’t make him less of a bully; and it never meant he wouldn’t repeat it next time.
“What does it take to tame a tongue,” Emelda said rather jovially.
“Abduct me,” Donald said, smiling.
“And then what?”
“Keep me away from everyone”
“And then what?”
“Eeeh?”
“And then what?”
“Starve my tongue”
“Meaning?”
“Give me no food nor words to chew on?”
“Can a prince endure hunger?” Emelda couldn’t hold her laughter. Who loved food more than Donald? His mother spoilt him with food, he had told her.
“I will learn in an emergency. Man learns to live when the only way is to live” Donald said.
“Spare me those words. You have lived your whole life in abundance,” Emelda guffawed.
“It doesn’t make any difference. I can cope with any difficult situation. Come on. I am a man, not a weakling” he said in his mock, English tone.
“People that have seen life and death… good times and tough times, allow them to encourage me. You know nothing of that,” Emelda said with a little pride.
“Eme. Will you ever give up? You can argue till… I listen to your argument on the radio and wonder where you got all the knowledge from. And your boldness is equally intimidating”
“But I have been practicing that for five years,” Emelda said in such a manner that suggested he shouldn’t be surprised. Because someone who had given his craft so much focus should be able to do it well.
“When you have a passion for it. It gives you an edge” he said, winding down his glass “You can do better than your colleagues”
“I am not competing with anyone, though”
“Sure, and that gives you the kind of peace you need to deliver with excellence”
“Exactly”
When they got into the mall, Emelda started feeling cold. She wasn’t comfortable with the intensity of the air conditioner, unlike Donald who had mastered the cold weather of the English people.
The cold was too heavy on her than she could take. But because they weren’t going to waste time, she kept calm, behaving as if she didn’t resent it, picking the items she craved. Among them was a nicely fit necklace, but too expensive for her liking. She blinked at seeing the price tag and looked away.
“Don’t worry. Take it. It is okay to be lavish on my princess,” he went close and kissed her hands. The necklace was dangling from her hands as she held it up to show him.
She kept walking around, while Donald treaded behind. She saw a pair of shoes that struck a chord in her “You would like these”
Donald touched it and scrutinized the make.
“I don’t like Italian shoes,” he said without showing any obvious emotion. Emelda couldn’t tell if he was joking or if he was serious. For she had seen him in an Italian suit.
“I would have liked to know why”
Donald told her he had no reason. And they laughed it off as if there was anything really strange or laughable about his preference.
When Donald’s eyes stumbled upon a lady in a green blouse, with eyes covered in black spectacles, walking past them, he sneaked out without Emelda’s notice. It was when she turned back to show him a finely coated, sleek watch that she found out he was no longer there.
“Maybe he went to ease himself; sure, he is around,” she said to herself, unmoved, not suspicious or anxious. She continued picking up her desires, dropping them in the cart.
Fifteen minutes had gone, yet he hadn’t come back. Fifteen freaking minutes. No. She had to call him, but before that, she knew what to do.
Bisi faked a wide yawn and hoped she would stop talking. And hoped she would ask if she had eaten and maybe offer her something to eat and spare her those sermons. But she didn’t stop, and neither did she notice she was tired. She would like to digress the discussion or leave her room entirely but she hadn’t got a chance and she wouldn’t like to interrupt her or walk out on her. She would blame herself for even complaining. Because if she didn’t complain, would she have been this serious advising her as she did to her radio audience? “You don’t complain all the time for material comfort, Bisi. All of these are ephemeral and the joy it gives is transient; it doesn’t last,” she kept steady eye contact and Bisi had always been the one to look away. “I understand you have only one pair of shoes and they may wear off too quickly because of overuse, but have you thought of those that have no legs?”Emelda had, maybe, unconsciously thought she was speaking to her radio audience and so whe
He sat down on the throne of the king, his elder brother. His relationship so far with Emelda needed to be reviewed. He was lost in thought. He had in mind what he wanted to achieve. But what if she found out? The worst she could do was break up with him, he muttered to himself.He had been doing it; he hadn’t kept to his promise. And what the hell was she thinking? That he would have had no romantic partner throughout his stay in England. They had promised themselves not to get into any side relationship. They had loved and dotted themselves that she saw part of her in him. Never had she loved so maddeningly; Donald would agree. But he couldn’t keep to his promise not to date another girl. The temptation was overwhelming and he thought the best thing was to succumb.So, when he went to England and lasted for a few months, one day came this pretty young girl approach him after a lecture. “Mr. Donald, right?” she asked. “Yes. How are you?” Donald adjusted his turtleneck as If it ma
“I don’t want to see you with him again. You belong to me and me alone. Don’t you get it?” Donald shouted. “But...he is my boss”“Let his bosshood end in the office. It shouldn’t go beyond that,” he paced around her living room. “Did I make myself clear?” “There is nothing between us” “I saw how he touched you. I saw it for crying out loud. How he was smiling for you. He is in love, Eme. Can’t you see it?” “You are taking this too seriously”“Why wouldn’t I, Eme?” he breathed in and kept quiet. It seemed he was letting silence do the rebuke now. He wiped the sweat dripping down to his memo shirt. “A clear conscience fears no accusation,” Emelda said, picked her bag from the couch, and left for her bedroom.“You better mean that” Emelda didn’t know what to say to make him believe there was nothing between them. Though, lately, her boss had been fond of her. From liking her to sending her on an errand, to overtasking her, to insisting she would be the one to do his private jobs.H
The beginning of anything had always been the hardest. Obinna was contemplating. He had been trying to cope with the job but it had been difficult. He sat in the corner of the kitchen while his sister was cooking and while he told her about the challenges of his job. How he must wake up every single day to prepare for what he would tell his audience. And how he would always be careful to answer their questions. ‘It is not as easy as I thought,” he said to his sister. “Nothing is easy, Obi. You should be grateful you have an advantage” “Advantage?” “Yes. You can speak very well. Not everyone can do that. Many people have the same passion but are not as good as you are” “But I believe in learning, Sis. If you are not good at what you do. You learn” “Nature plays a vital role,” his sister objected. “But nurture can be more influential, Sis,” Obinna said, perceiving what his sister was cooking. The aroma was so strong that he couldn’t wait to see the made soup. His sister laughed
Emelda tasted her microphone, it wasn’t working well. She said some words into it again, it wasn’t sounding perfectly. There must be a technical glitch somewhere, she said. She stepped into the other department, looking for the technician. She didn’t have time and needed to fix everything as quickly as possible. They had been postponing the programme. Every time it was near, something sudden would happen and it would be truncated. Today was the mic and unfortunately, it was all three in the studio that were having this fault. She was full of nerves, watching as the technician worked on it. She needed to calm down, to think, so she sat beside and slipped into pensiveness. What excuse would she announce to her audience today? And she wouldn’t bear it any longer because she would be having a guest today… who was on his way. What would she tell him? That the mics were having some problems and they couldn’t fix them until there was no time and the programme was cancelled? What a silly
When she called Donald to know where he was so that she could meet him, he ignored her call. She tried the second time and it was switched off. She became worried.Was he meeting a girl? She was pacing around her living room, asking questions upon questions when her phone rang. She thought it was Donald until she picked it up. “Hello, Pretty,” the voice came quietly. “Hi,” she said, trying to recognize the voice. “It is so nice to get you this afternoon”“I guess I am speaking with Obinna”“Perfect” “You called with a different line?” “Sorry. That is my second line” “How are you?”“Great” there was a rush of some emotion. He wanted to express it immediately but kept cool. “I want to appreciate you again for last week’s programme” “It’s okay. You know you deserve better” “That is good to …”Obinna didn’t know she hadn’t stopped talking when he chipped in “I was thinking if we could go out. What is your schedule like?”Some moment of silence engulfed the atmosphere before Emeld
Emelda told him that the business he was managing should be making more profit than they were recording, having studied Business Administration abroad. She hadn’t finished talking to him about where the problem had sprouted from when she looked up and saw sad lines all over his face. He had endured it till this moment…enough of her waffle. She wasn’t going to listen to her empty business nuggets. What did she know about business? “I have heard you. I will make effort to improve. Love you,” he said in a subdued tone. He didn’t quite have the energy to impress her with his business knowledge. “Prof called,” Emelda said. “What about him?” “He seriously asked where this relationship was headed.” “Fuck him. After all that he did to you” “He did nothing, Don” “But he would have” “But he didn’t” “Had you given him the chance to…he would have dipped his dick into…” “Please, don’t want to hear those vulgars” she cut him off mid-sentence. “That is rude, you know” “Prof is an honour
Ben had been tasty of Emelda and since he was back from his travel, the first person he thought of visiting was her. He had tried to disembowel the memories of the last kiss he involved her but to no avail.And this made him think of approaching this relationship differently. He had known her for seven years, and it had been asexual, deeply platonic. And why would it stop there?He couldn’t have forgotten so fast how she took offence at his misdemeanour, something he said wasn’t intentional, and something he said was beyond his power to withhold. Was it really true or he just made up the lie to excuse himself?He didn’t even know what else to say, but lying within his heart now was the desire to transport the relationship to where it should be. He now longed to be his partner…romantic partner indeed. There was something about her –he realized this part the day he kissed her—that made him go gaga.Was he being driven by lust now or what? Whatever she might call it was none of his conce