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Chapter Seventeen
Damian ChiemezieThank you so much for reading.
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Emelda made a new hair and looked very much different. She was walking with unusual confidence. Now and then, she looked at herself from toe to chest as though she was going for a beauty pageant and needed to validate herself before anybody else. She fixed long nails, something she rarely did; was it why she didn’t feel comfortable wearing it? As she walked down the market, she would always look at her nails and feel it didn’t just synch with every other opulent fitting in her body. Ben, Obinna or Donald would be wowed to see her new look and she could imagine them shower her some compliments and she would smile and do inyanga for them. She had done it intentionally, at least to attract more eyeballs on herself. For it was the desire of every woman, most women she would rather say, to look attractive and be able to get attention, men’s attention. This new look, she thought, she overdid it. Even her boss would not recognize her for she looked less simple than she ever did. Deep
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Emelda ran into an old friend and was amazed at him. He looked younger than even when they were in College. Had he always looked like this? She was battling with this thought when the young man said “How are your children and hubby too?” Her spirit suddenly became dampened and she could not find the right words to answer him. Whatever that made him think she was married, she could not tell. The thought that she was aging or looking older enveloped her psyche and for the first time this week, perhaps, she faked the most tactical smile and said “Michael, we are getting married soon” “I am so sorry, Eme,” he looked remorseful as the sinner who was going to confess his heinous sin before a priest. She told him there was nothing to be apologetic about before asking him too if he had married. “Not at all,” he said. Emelda traced a drop of enthusiasm in his tone but could not see. What she saw instead was a tired bachelor parading the town with his car and the big boy title; she saw a
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Emelda was having a good time with her younger sister when Donald badged in with bunched brow. When he saw her with Favour, he tried to control his temper not to utter anything obnoxious until later.But Emelda was already alarmed. She got up immediately and approached him. Held his hand and asked what was wrong. He said nothing and smiled wryly. Turning back to leave as soon as he had come, he said they would talk later. But on reaching the door, he paused and turned back; Emelda was standing, speechless, staring at him.“Why can’t you admit that you like him?” Donald said finally without intending to. He looked at Favour instead of her as though he was reporting her to the sister. He wanted to see the shock Favour would express in learning that her sister cheated on him.But all Favour saw was someone who would agree that her sister was a cheat and should be punished severely for that. Favour wasn’t moved; he would repeat himself several times and she would still not be shaken.Why
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When Emelda entered the line that demarcated her village from the other, she knew it was time to brace up for greetings. One reason she had told the Okadaman to drop her at her father’s compound. Not before, not after. But straight to her father’s abode. The Okadaman refused. And watched her eyes sag in frustration. He could see the loads she would carry all by herself. He looked at her and looked at the load, and urged her to carry them as they were only a few clothes in the luggage. What of those older women that carried heavier loads on their heads? Were they stronger than her? He turned his engine on to leave but stopped to hear her last words. Again. She implored him and promised to pay him better but he still refused, saying that the road was bad and the wheel of his motorcycle was shaky and blah blah blah. Emelda wondered why he had said that. Did he think she would believe him? He just didn’t want to drop her at her destination. She might believe the road was bad, anyway, b
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“How long would this leave last?” Papa asked, while sharpening his cutlass against a nearby stone. The scrape of metal against stone produced tiny sparks that flickered briefly before they disappeared. “Seven days, Papa,” Emelda said, while washing her face. The dawn was cold and Emelda was almost freezing; it was the kind of weather that pushed her to drink tea whether she wanted it or not. But she was not in town and was contemplating going out to buy one. She could see why the cold was more intense in their compound. There were trees and flowers in and outside their compound. The orange tree in the middle, the seed so close to the ground that one could pluck it without even jumping. The mango tree at the entrance, so tall that children preferred to stone it instead of climbing it, and the hedges before their corridor, rarely trimmed by Papa. And she could feel the air oozing out from them. Sometimes, she heard the crispy noise of some leaves as they fell. “Okay. That means w
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Emelda was disordered; she was not focused. At all. Since Ben left her office, she had been deeply remorseful for what she had done. Was her sanity still intact? She was asking herself. The other day she had left very early on Sunday morning to see Ben. And she knew what she wanted. She saw the surprise on his face when she entered his room as if being pursued by an unknown spirit, and in a twinkle of an eye started smooching him. The pleasure was interrupted though; they couldn’t finish what they started. And she was full of guilt thereafter. She had left home that day full of regrets. The memories were incomplete but she could still remember that it didn’t stop there. Something happened some days after. It took place at her home and it was the day Ben visited. She just didn’t plan for it. But how long would she have endured? It was all her fault, or was it Donald’s? She didn’t know whom to blame. She had restricted him from touching her since he hadn’t paid for her bride price
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Emelda smiled as she finished reading the letter. How did he do it? No interview was conducted. No portfolio was submitted. Even no one’s ass was licked to fetch this job. And she did not have to be used by some boss to be able to get it. Wonderful. She thanked him for working it for her. How life brought people together. Everything was still afresh in her memories. How she met Obinna the day they went for an interview. He was jovial, and he was the only person that looked beyond the fear of facing the panel to talk with her.Others were so much serious with either their phone or their mind. It was he that admired her and made her feel her presence mattered most in the room. It was he that engaged her in a conversation so that she would not be too anxious about the interview.That was too much from a stranger and she was thankful even though she didn’t mention it. And though, he was the youngest person in the room, she saw a responsible person in him. All was crystal clear from his c
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Ben’s tallness attracted massive eyeballs as they passed by to a more secluded place. What was this tall guy doing with this short lady? The inquisitive eyes must be wondering. He hadn’t prepared for this outing but had to agree because she had been forcing herself on him somehow whereas the person he needed had been forcing herself on someone that didn’t deserve her, he thought. What a life. Where mystery and reality were intertwined. And one had to wonder now and then. It was Emelda that occupied his mind even while they sat close to each other exchanging words. “So, are we officially dating?” Evelyn said but would have withdrawn her words on discovering that it was not a smart question. If she thought they weren’t dating, she should make it look like one and that was a similar thing to what she had done. By convincing him to go out with her. So why the hell was she asking? She felt defeated. “Do we look like we are dating?” Ben asked. He loved that she was good in bed; h
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