A Wife For A Day

The angry rush of water down the old roof reflected Amina’s own dark mood. Shaking her head, she bemoaned the erratic weather of Benin City, where God has seen fit to give her admission in. As a fourth year student, she felt happy that the whole drama of getting an education would soon be over. 

Beside her, a young man fiddled with the keys of his car. Looking out, she could see the car some yards away from them. A black Mercedes Benz glowing from a mix of water and the lights on the road. It was around 7PM and the roads were quite busy with students walking to and fro night class – a term used to denote evening reading outside the confines of a student’s hostel.

She looked at the man beside her, he was short and stout with slight bow legs. His face was round and handsome. The white shirt he wore fit his body perfectly and accentuated his light skin. Amina who was used to dating ugly looking guys found him really attractive. It was their third date and she had become comfortable with him enough not to shy away from the hand that was stroking her waist. 

“You know you are beautiful, right?” He asked, looking down at her. Amina knew she was beautiful. Despite the beards that sprouted around her chin and on top her nose, her beauty still shone through. So she just nodded and smiled. Slowly, their faces inched closer to each other until their lips touched and they began kissing in earnest. 

Across the road, two girls who were walking back to the hostel pointed at them and giggled. 

“See love o!” one of them said. 

“Which kind yeye love? Make I stand for outside with mosquito biting me because I wan kiss. Which kind suffer head be that?” The other asked. Her friend laughed out loud. 

After a while, the rain completely subsided and darkness fell over the trees. They were both talking and laughing about something but Amina couldn’t remember. In her head, she was wondering why she always sacrificed so much for men. She hated standing for long periods of time but here she was standing just because this man had thought it was a nice idea for them to leave the safety of the eatery and come back to the car. 

She was still thinking and cuffing her shoes on the broken cement floor when Osaro’s hand cupped her breast. Amina was jerked out of the heaven she had ascended into like the demons were torn away from the bodies of the swine. She looked straight at him, her eyes holding questions. His face was jovial and daring at the same time. He saw nothing wrong in what he did. 

“What did you just do?” She asked. Her temper was rising at a very fast pace. 

“I’m sorry. I just desire you so much.” he said. 

“Desire me!” Amina scoffed. “We barely know each other. I can’t sleep with you on our third date.” 

“Why not?” He asked after a few minutes of meeting her eyes. “It doesn’t matter when we have sex. Now or later. I love you.” 

Amina was a sharp girl who knew enough to be wary of those words. She had been through two bad relationships where those words had proven to be lies in the end. Yet, her heart was broken and she was feeling a little daring. Her last boyfriend had been her friend for a year and a half before she started dating him and their relationship still spoiled. They didn’t have sex for a while in their relationship but it still ended.

Her rebellious spirit rose to the forefront and she planted a kiss on his lips. Osaro, sensing that he had won, broke the kiss and carefully walked her towards the car at the other side of the road. They went straight to the back. Her back hit the clutter on the seat. 

“Let me clear it up,” Osaro said, smiling sheepishly. Amina nodded, she was worried that if she said anything she might change her mind so she stayed silent. He took his bag and dumped it in the boot, threw the pair of shoes under the front seat and put the folded shirt on the driver’s seat. His car looked like he lived in it but it was quite neat. 

“What are you doing?” She asked when he moved to get between her legs. 

“What am I doing?” Osaro asked, his face already red from exertion. 

“You need to wrap it up if you’re going to put it in,” Amina said, a tense smile on her face. For a moment, they stared at each other like two wrestlers. 

“Oh you mean… bad girl!” He said laughing. Digging into the console beside his seat, he brought out a row of condoms. The packs looked old and she should have known but Amina wasn’t really so experienced in the ways of the world. They held each other, thrusting forward and backwards. His arms locked around her, giving her a sense of security she would come to know was a lie. 

***

Amina watched the man smoking at the side of the road. She was seated at the stall opposite him, waiting for a taxi. She had come home for the weekend to spend some time with her family and take foodstuff back to school. When she arrived on Friday, her parents had remarked on her sudden weight gain which she blamed on stress and eating Junk food. While those reasons were valid, Amina wasn’t so sure. 

Her body had been acting out of late and she was yet to see her period. She was sure that by now Google was fed up with her repeated searches. How do you know you’re pregnant? Early pregnancy symptoms. What to do to make sure you’re pregnant. Home pregnancy tests. All the answers were confusing. Yes, she felt nauseous but she did not feel sick. 

She didn’t feel bloated but her legs felt swollen every morning. The signs were there but she refused to believe it. People get pregnant when they have unprotected sex but Amina always made sure she used protection. She never allowed Osaro to get close to her without a condom and that was it. Shaking her head, she scanned the area for where to pee. 

The man smoking on the other side of the road was gone and there was a little bush beside the stall. Amina walked over and bent to pee. While peeing, she felt something coming out and reached for it. It was a piece of rubber. 

***

Amina helped her mother wash the pumpkin leaves before the latter chopped it into tiny pieces and scraped them into the waiting bowl. They were seated in the large kitchen and preparing lunch. From Amina’s phone, the reporter for the show Man around town was talking about a girl who tried to abort her pregnancy and ended up dying. 

“Hmm. Any daughter of mine that decides to get pregnant. She go born am o.” Amina’s mother said. 

“Yes o!” a voice said from behind them. It was Amina’s father. He was a tall burly man who loved to laugh. He never stopped following his wife around the house. “All my mates are already grandfathers.” 

“So if Amina decides what she wants from life is a baby, you think I will complain?” Her mother said. 

“Complain ke? I will even be happy. Another man can now take over my responsibilities.” her father said. 

Amina laughed with a boldness she did not feel in her heart. Growing up, her parents had always been clear about their feelings as regards boy and girl relationships. She was beaten up more times than she could count for being too close to boys. She knew that despite all their talk, they would be disappointed if they found out that she was pregnant. Her father would never let her hear the last of it. 

About responsibilities also, Osaro was in no place to be responsible for a wife and a child. He was too much of a boy for that. Few months dating him had taught her not to expect too much from the male folk. The day she found the rubber, she texted him immediately. 

“The condom broke inside me!” 

“😳😱” he replied. “I don’t believe it.” 

She recorded a video of her turning it this way and that. The shape was unmistakable.  The reply he gave was not encouraging. The tears started to fall. 

“I’m scared.” she sent him. There was silence from his end for a while. 

“Don’t be” he said “🙃  We are not even sure you’re pregnant.” 

Two weeks later, they were sure. 

“So what are we going to do?” Amina sobbed when the blue line glared at her. They were seating inside his car that night. She was wearing a black trouser, blue halter neck top and a jacket to keep out the cold. Osaro wore a long-sleeved shirt outfit, complete with tie and formal shoes. 

“I don’t know what you will do but as for me, I cannot have a baby right now. Think of my career. Think of your school.” He said. His face was turned away so he wouldn’t see her tears. Amina had known he had no intention of taking care of a child. Until that moment however, she still allowed herself to hope. How foolish and naive she’s been!

It was at that moment she saw it, she knew it, how alone she was in the world, and it hit her low in the chest. 

“I can’t keep the baby,” she laughed without joy, tears running from the side of her cheeks. “It’s not that you don’t want a baby, you just don’t want a baby with me.” She looked at him, daring him to counter the words, daring him to say something, anything. His silence was as loud as the beating of her heart. She got out of his car and walked away into the night. 

***

Bad experiences make good people die inside. That was the truth Amina discovered. Her journey to Lagos had been just a few hours but it had taken her years to plan. The transport company she used was Edegbe Motors and her destination was Ajah. The trip had been smooth. Her traveling company was a merry bunch, entertaining themselves. 

The roads were dry and filled with red sand that coated the windows and made everything look hazy when seen through the glass. Her luggage was really light. She didn’t intend to stay. Three weeks would be enough for all she had to do. Her phone rang, she picked it up. 

“Hello baby!” she said in a cheery voice that did not reach her face or her eyes. Her voice was low and if anyone was listening they would probably say “God when.” She looked around reflexively to see if anyone was watching her.

“Is the apartment ready?” She asked. 

She got into the estate at 4pm when the sun rays were just beginning to slant over the roofs. The whole estate was floored with interlocking tiles that and she would have loved to feel the sand under her feet. Amina hated the sound her shuffling feet made on the bricks, she couldn’t wait to be home and be barefoot. When she got to the new house, she felt a feeling of sadness at the fact that she wouldn’t be spending a long time there. 

A little sadness however, was incapable of shaking a resolve that had taken ten years to build. She climbed the steps and unlocked the door. Inside smelled like new paint, fresh and unwelcoming. The chandelier in the middle of the living room was glowing so brightly. She felt like taking a crowbar and plucking it down. The house was beautiful and impractical just like the graves Nigerians love to construct for their dead loved ones. 

Amina switched off the lights and walked, groping into the darkness. 

***

She had always believed in destiny, that her life was going to work out in a certain way. Perhaps that was why her heart broke when everything changed. The room looked just like she had dreamt of it many years ago. The light filtering through the open windows. The jewelries on the dressing table. The white dress lying an the chair. The only thing missing from the picture was people bustling around the room. She had always thought that if she was to marry, her mother and her cousins would all be around her. The last time she had seen the woman was two years ago when she had gone to visit. 

“Amina, so you have refused to give me a grandchild.” the old woman said, her voice coarse like iron sponge scrubbing the back of a pot. The cancer had moved to her throat, making talking very difficult for her. Ten years ago, this woman had said these exact words with tears in her eyes but now, those tired lids held only resignation. 

How was she to tell her mother that she hadn’t chosen this life but it was given to her anyway. Was she not asking God the same question everyday? When will you give me a child? Standing there buttoning her dress, she felt like writing a note to her mother and telling her the whole truth but who would take it to her grave and place it among the old flowers? 

Outside, the rain knocked on the tarred street, the poles and Amina’s own window signaling to her that it was time. Ordering a taxi, she put final touches to her makeup. She knew that Lagos traffic would keep her for very long and could do nothing about it. Besides, whatever time it turned out to be would be the right time. The roads were slippery, her taxi moved faster than it should have. Amina sat there, quietly watching the droplets of water roll down the glass. 

“We are here, madam.” the taxi driver said. Getting out of the car, she let the rain wash over her without flinching. The more water poured on her, the easier it was to conceal the fact that she was weeping. The lobby door opened and she walked in. 

“Hey, I would like to go up to room 302.” she said. The receptionist looked at her wet clothes and replied, “Should we get you a towel, ma’am?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

Finding the room wasn’t as hard as she had imagined. The hotel had a very organized layout. As soon as she knocked,  the door opened to reveal a short man drinking from a glass of wine. 

“Oh, I’m Shiela.” Amina said. The man smiled at her boobs. 

“I am Mr Ray. Come on and sit let me get towels.” 

Amina watched him turn around the corner into the bathroom. From a pocket in her dress, she brought out a little bottle and emptied its contents into the bottle of wine, adding a few drops to the wine glass. Then she stood at a corner of the room trying to wring water out of her clothes. 

“I brought the towels and a mop.” Mr. Ray said with a big smile in his voice. She turned around to look at him. He was still handsome with his fair skin, perfect beard and eyebrows. His new found pouch however made him look shorter than he was. His two year old daughter was a spitting image of him. Her cute face had sent a searing pain through Amina. 

“Thank you.” she said in a sweet voice. Taking the towel from him, she began taking off her clothes. Mr. Ray’s eyes lit up. He walked backward to where his wine was and began drinking as he watched her strip. Few seconds later, shaky legs made him seek asylum on the bed and in no time he was out. 

When he came to, the room was too bright. He tried to cover his eyes but his hands were tied behind him. He looked up and there she was in her underwear and holding a pen knife. Her eyes were bloodshot but he couldn’t tell if it was from crying or drugs. 

“Please don’t do this.” he begged. 

She shook her head, looking helpless. “You should have left me alone, Osaro. You should have left me ALONE.” 

The fear in his eyes was as clear and wild as his confusion.

“Who are you?”

“Do you know,” She continued like she hadn’t heard him, “I can’t get married because the doctors all say my womb is damaged?”

Outside, the rain continued with a vengeance that signaled the state of her heart.

“While you went on to have babies with some other woman and blocked me, I had to quit school because the abortion process was so critical, I stayed in the hospital for a year.”

His face changed from one of confusion to shame. The fear still ever present and visible.

“Mi mi??”

“Don’t call me that!” She snarled, the knife coming dangerously close to his neck.

“Wait! We can talk about this.”

Amina smiled a smile that was devoid of warmth and hope, a smile that chilled him to his bones.

“We could have talked if you hadn’t changed your number. When my mother died and my dad followed shortly after, we could have talked. When I tried committing suicide because of how hopeless my life had become, we could have talked. But I couldn’t reach you.”

As she inched the knife even closer, her voice settled into an even and low octave, “Why couldn’t I reach you Osaro? Were you avoiding me?”

The droplets of sweat on his face, and his shaking did nothing to assuage her. Not his pleading, not his tears, not even his prayers.

When the police came later to the room, it was reported that, with blood pooling around the bed and soaking the bedsheet, she just sat there, beside him, staring at the ceiling, as if watching a film.

***

As Amina looked out from the prison she’d been in for the past two years, she smiled without any regret. The judge had asked her for the last time, “do you regret killing him?”

The vivid gasp of the court room when she’d gave her reply had felt so satisfying.

“No. He ruined my life. It is only fair that I ruin his, don’t you think?”

“He never even gave me a chance to be his wife. It’s like he never loved me.” The court had heard her mutter, as if in a trance, as she was dragged out.

All images are sourced from unsplash