New Telegraph

Djinn’s Day Out (8)

Juliet Bumah Dave, dressed for outing, was about to switch off the television when the news of the day caught his attention. The Yahoo Plus boys had taken their game to another satanic level.

 

These children of darkness now hunt for girls, not to rape, but to divest them of their pants for money making ritual. According to the reporter, these evil boys had an identity -they usually favoured Mercedes Benz brand of vehicles. In fact, the first thing they did when they got the money was to go buy a Benz. Fear gripped Dave.

 

He had undiluted love for Mercedes-Benz vehicles. He wondered if people had started making snide comments behind him. Just that morning, he had read about a man who pummeled his wife for getting home without her underwear.

 

According to the story, the man who got home before his wife, had been in a mushy mood all evening and was waiting to relieve tension. Immediately his wife walked into the bedroom, he had followed her, as his man was already lunging in his boxers.

 

He watched as his wife slipped off her dress and was shocked that nothing else shielded the coveted cave of wonder. He asked his wife where her underwear was. She went to her handbag and pulled it out.

 

According to her, there were bad boys on the road who rob women of their underwear at gun point. So, many women resorted to moving about without underwear.

 

The man would hear none of that. He accused his wife of having an affair and concluded that in her hurry to go home, she had forgotten to put on her underwear. To make matter worse, it was one of those evenings when there was a gridlock and she got home very late.

 

The man stormed out of the bedroom to the living room after exhausting his rage on her, calling her unprintable names. He told her to pack her things and leave his home at the first ray of light the next morning.

 

It was while he was listening to the 10pm news that he heard about the pant craze among Yahoo Plus boys. It was then he knew he had offended his wife -a wife he had never had any cause to doubt her fidelity to him. He cried that night and didn’t know what to say to her

 

He had inflicted both physical and emotional injuries on her. Looking at her bruised body, his heart ached. The woman felt like someone who was ran over by a vehicle the following morning. Her body ached from the beating she got from a raging husband. Dave sighed.

 

Here was a case of a man who misunderstood his wife. Both of them now suffered it. If the man had given her the benefit of doubt, this ugly incident would have been averted. He felt bad. What if the same scenario was playing out between his wife and him? He shook his head.

 

Time to go look for his wife. Enough of wallowing in selfinflicted pain. He picked his car key and left the house. When he got to his sister-in-law’s place, he parked his car on the street. The security man, a northerner who had a kiosk in front of the house, smiled when he saw Dave.

 

Dave was a known visitor in the house. Each time he visited, Adamu, the security guard, was sure of getting not less than one thousand naira as tip from him. “Oga welcome. Make I open gate for you. Madam and her children go village but madam sister dey house,” Adamu told him. “Adamuuuu,” Dave hailed him.

 

“Ogaaaaaaa,” he responded, beaming with smile. “I want to park outside. You say madam travelled?” He asked. “Yes oga. Since Christmas, madam no dey house. I dey wait make she come back come pay me my salary. Me sef wan travel go my village. I wan go vote,” Adamu said. “Who are you going to vote for?” Dave asked. Not that he cared though.

 

“I don’t know. President Muhammadu Buhari is my brother. Abubakar Atiku is my brother. If I reach home, my brothers go do meeting and we go know who we go support. Make madam come back make I go,” Adamu said with a smile. Dave smiled also and made mental note to go look for his PVC.

 

The last time he saw it was more than two years ago when he waa rummaging through the documents in the pigeon hole of one of his vehicles. That was where it was during the last general elections in Nigeria. He kept it there for easy access but didn’t vote during the election. He felt sad.

 

Though he was one of the many enlightened Nigerians who monitored the political space and were very vocal during the previous political campaigning that brought the present crop of leaders to power, he never went out to vote. On election days, he monitored the process on the television and social media, just like many of his ilk.

 

He felt ashamed. He knew that if he failed to vote, he would have done nothing to maintain status quo in governance or change the narrative if he so desired. That was the problem with many Nigerians.

 

They’d make all the noise but do nothing. He resolved to leave the spectators’ tent and go out to vote. He would also ginger his friends to do same.

 

All the while he was outside the gate chatting with Adamu, he was actually trying to calm himself for his mind was topsy turvy, not knowing the kind of reception Ujay would give him.

 

It would be the first time they’d be seeing each other in more than three months. He wondered how his wife would react to this visit. He thanked Adamu and slipped some notes into his palm. Adamu grinned and he smiled as he walked to the gate.

 

As he pushed open the gate and stepped in, he froze…

 


 

Ujay held Mrs. Muyi and patted her back as she sobbed. She told her to let the tears flow. The battered wife would feel better after releasing pent up emotion. Ujay knew the poor woman was traumatised.

 

Losing a four-month old pregnancy was painful. Ujay felt the tears soaking her blouse but held her nonetheless. Muyi’s wife needed a shoulder to cry on right now. She certainly needed a listening ear to pour out her heart to.

 

When the heaving subsided, she patted her back and eased her into a chair. They were alone in Mrs. Muyi’s friend’s living room. “Every time he would claim he had no money. How am I supposed to take care of the children’s needs, even mine?

 

And he would get home drunk! Where does he get money to buy drinks? Or he wants me to believe that those drinks were always bought for him?” Muyi’s wife fumed.

 

“Look dear, he actually may not have the money, even if he could buy a bottle or two of his favourite beer,” Ujay told her. “Why can’t he buy the beer and bring home to drink if he knows he cares about his family? He doesn’t care what happens to us,” she insisted.

 

“He cares dear. The reason he drinks out is the same reason he won’t buy his beer at home. You have not tried to know what goes on in his mind. He’s probably more disturbed, more worried than you about you and your children. No man is happy if he cannot provide for his family. Men ache inside but an insensitive wife wouldn’t know. He drinks to get momentary relief.

 

Of course, too much alcohol is not good for the body and relationship, but some men consume it just to hang on. If he buys it at home to drink, you will feel scandalized. You would heckle him for drinking beer while the needs of the home hadn’t been met. Men hate to be nagged.

 

Even we women hate it too. If you give your man the kind of relief alcohol gives him, he’ll always rush home at the slightest opportunity,” Ujay told her. “What relief does alcohol give a man? It only makes them unreasonably quarrelsome,” Muyi’s wife said.

 

“Not in all cases dear. You see, a bottle of drink doesn’t talk back at you. It doesn’t nag, it makes the drinker feel good at that moment even if the world is collapsing around him. That is the attraction for the man and that is actually what the woman should be to her man.

 

 

 

A woman is supposed to be a balm to her man -calming his nerves, allaying his fears, giving him reasons to smile in the face of adversity, letting him know that God is in control of everything. If you make yourself your husband’s beer, you’ll realise how much your husband loves you and what agony he went through each time he couldn’t provide for you and your children.

 

Do you know that poor people also live in paradise? It’s not every wealthy person that is truly happy. There are many things money can’t buy, true joy and true love are some of them,” Ujay said.

 

Muyi’s wife cracked her fingers, one after the other and said nothing. Ujay could feel the struggle going on in the woman’s mind. She waited for her to resolved whatever she was struggling with. When she eventually raised her head, Ujay stared in amazement..

. *********

 

Let’s continue this journey on Sunday!

•Send your observations to: julietbumah@gmail.com

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