SCENE ONE
"hello beautiful." The voice hits my ears like stones in a dusty storm. Who is this one?
I turn to see Mr Ogome smiling at me with his wide nose showing the many hairs that lives within. Imagine? This goat wants to talk to me too? I have suffered o.
"What is it Oga Ogome? Can't you see that I am busy? I ask frowning at the envelope in front of me as if it contains the company's tax returns since it was founded.
He does not go away, rather he enters and close my office door, leaving me and him alone in the office. He takes a seat in front of me, still smiling like a cow in labour.
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"Why do you treat me like this? From the first day I saw you, I fell for you. In my heart I know you and I will be perfect together. I am not here to play, I am looking for a woman to spend the rest of my life with; to share all that I have and all that I am with. Why can't you give me a chance?" he asks.
I look at him from his bald head to where his short frame meets the desk and hiss. I have been preparing it, so it was long and loud. His mouth opens and close like a fish drowning in air.
"look Oga please respect yourself o. Don't do what will make people say I have no regard for my elders o. I don't want anybody to give me a name that is not my own o." I retorted.
"it has not gotten to that now. Okay let's go out for lunch and talk or what of this weekend? I will be free. If you get to know me, you will... " he pauses as I stand up from my seat.
"I beg whoever knows this rat should come and tell him o! Please come and tell me to leave me alone o. Is it by force? I don't want to do! Oga Ogome I don't want to do!" I yell at him.
I can see several persons turn to my office through the glass partition. Mr Ogome stands up, his eyes wide with shame. Ehen... shey you have gotten what you are looking for now?
He turns and quietly leaves my office. I hiss again as the door closes behind him. I sit down and stare at the envelope before me. I open it and a buzz sizzles through my body at what I see.
INTERLUDE
The sun came out today
But I was not there to greet it;
I was lying in the womb of the earth,
Whispering between the roots of green things,
Between the roofs of worms and ants,
Between death and new life.
The sun came out today
But I was hidden within myself,
A shadow that cast no shadow;
Afoot that left no mark in the sands,
A song that never lift closed lips;
I was hidden like a cold stone under a rock,
Holding on to the sea
In the dew that fell the night before.
SCENE TWO
Silvia comes in after the rat runs away with his tail between his short legs. She looks at me and shakes her head.
"what happened?" I ask.
"What you did was wrong and you know it. You know he likes you; why will you embarrassed him like that? Was there no other way to tell him off?" She asks.
I look at her in irritation. The envelope sits like mountain before me, it's contents eating into me like an ulcer.
"Silvia, I beg you in the name of God, please leave me alone. If you want him, look at him there. Go with my blessings." I reply her.
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"This thing is not good o. What is wrong with him? Don't you want to settle down? You want to end up like madam Martha?" She retorts.
"why do you think I don't have a boyfriend?" I ask, smiling. "Don't worry, I will shock you." I add.
She looks at me then she shakes her head and leaves me alone with my thoughts. What will I tell him?
INTERLUDE
silence is a golden thing,
It is a secret thing,
Held in the stomach of your mouth,
simmering sigh slipping from restless teeth.
I will tell you a secret;
Silence is full with stories;
Do you want to hear them?
SCENE THREE
I am going to tell him today. It has to be today. I must find the courage somewhere to do this. I must.
“Good night Dayo. My regards to your wife and the baby. Don’t forget to bring the movies you promised me o?” I say
See how he smiles and waves at me as he boards the company bus. His wife is a lucky woman. She has him completely. Is that what love is? It is going to rain soon and I forgot my umbrella again. I have to make a new pot of soup tomorrow; God give me strength. I must tell him today.
I stand waiting for a taxi to come before the rain starts. I soon see a taxi approaching in the midst of black smoke. The engine coughs and splutters as the car vibrates towards me.
“Taxi! Taxi! Ihama road.” I call out. This car is old o. I hope it gets me home in one piece. “Driver how much? Hundred naira? But fuel price has dropped now? Otopec was selling for one hundred and forty five today. My company driver went to buy fuel and diesel there today. You people will not reduce your fare once it goes up. I am tired of this country.” I add as I enter the vibrating and coughing vehicle.
“madam you know that before fuel price will truly come down it will take time. If Otopec is selling for one hundred and forty naira, it does not mean that all the other filling stations will be doing the same.” Someone says.
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I turn to look at the speaker blankly. The man is smiling at me as if we are good friends. Look at his hair? Permed like a chicken that has passed through hot water. Mtschew… I hissed in my mind and turned away to study the window. Rain drops splatter against the glass like bird shit. Soon the roof of the car starts a steady drumming as the rain increase in intensity. God let me get home before that road floods o. I must tell him.
INTERLUDE
Love is an empty thing;
A breath spinning through the air,
Seeking lips to capture it and speak it
To life. It is a fickle being
That kneels before any altar, offering sacrifices
And ablutions; absolutions and misery.
Why do I bother with fitting myself
Into the square hole of your heart,
We cannot become one;
We were never meant to be one.
SCENE FOUR
Home. Why do I call it so? Is it because my bagful of clothes sits empty on the top of a wardrobe? Is it because my sponge hangs still from the head of the bathroom shower? Is it my favourite Rihanna album still stuck in the broken compact disc player? Why do I call this place home?
Look at the chairs; tattered and dirty, and someone has poured oil on the rug again? Ouch! What is this? Toy soldier… somebody in this house wants me dead? I have to leave this place. Look at her; fat as a hippo;
“Aunty good evening.” I say.
“Ha… you are back? How was work? I hope the rain didn’t touch you o?” she replies. I detest her soliticious attitude. It made hating her difficult and I so much want to hate her... grrr…
“No ma. Work was fine. What are you making?” I ask, trying to be polite. I am always trying but I don’t think I ever fully succeed.
“jollof rice. Go and have your bath. Food will be ready soon. Your uncle said he will come late today. Uche and Theresa are sleeping over at the Okoros. So it's just you and I in the house.” She says but I stopped listening at ‘late’. I must tell him.
I nod my head and walk into my room. I slowly peel my clothes off my body and walk naked into the bathroom. I turn the shower to warm and stand under it as the water runs all over my body. I cannot call this place home. There are no parts of me here. I pick the sponge and start washing. I scrub my skin until it is pink then I rinse, rinse and rinse again. But I am not clean. the dirt is not physical. I must tell him.
I come out of the bathroom and patter to the front of the full length mirror. I stand there and watch me watch me. My skin is flush with the heat of the hot bath and scrub I just had. I rub my hand over my face and feel the warm and smooth texture. I raise my breasts up and feel its weight; it is still firm and heavy. My nipples starts to raise as the cold air in the room hit my bare skin. I let go of my breast and raise my arm above my head. They say you should check for lumps and all that regularly, so as to get a quick notice if there's an abnormal growth on your breast or around it.
My hands move over my flat stomach and I rub it slowly, marveling at the smooth texture and the tiny hairs that crawl on a straight line from my navel to my pubic space. What a life it could be; simple, beautiful, filled with love, life and laughter. Not this drab existence.
I remove my hands and turn to the bed. She stands at the door staring at me. Look at her eyes shining with glee; something is wrong.
“auntie what is the problem?” I asked, walking to the bed and picking up my towel.
“I just received news.” She said, her voice shaking. I stop toweling myself and turn back to her; something is wrong.
“there was a plane crash over the Atlantic.” She says. Her voice is steady this time but it sounds faraway as if the Atlantic stood between us. "there were no survivors.” She adds.
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The words fall on my ears like weighted stones. I can fill me drowning beneath the waves of dread as it sinks into me;
“I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?” I ask, trying to twist the truth into a sweeter lie.
“your uncle is dead.” She says solemnly.
There is no glee, no joy in those words. Her eyes have none of that instead I see pity.
What right had she to pity me? He was her husband, I should be the one pitying her. If she had shown me the hatred I am sure she felt inside, it would have been better. This pity irritates me.
“Well I am sorry. That is a sad thing. So what are you going to do?” I ask.
“Me? Nothing. I and my kids are travelling out of the country once the funeral is done. He left a will though and I have spoken to the lawyers.” She says, staring at a small puddle the water from my skin forms on the floor. That was fast
“how does this concern me?” I ask.
“you get nothing. He willed everything to Uche.” She replies. She smiles and leaves the room.
I stand there watching the open door, wishing her back with all my power of will, so I can give her a slap. I turn back to the mirror and stare at me staring at me. I should have told him before.
Now the father of my child has died without knowing that he had impregnated his late brother’s daughter. I weep.
I'm really growing to enjoy this style of storytelling. It makes for an interesting visual experience and read.
please vote on back
@warpedpoetic
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