THE WIFE I NEVER MARRIED Episode 5
Laibe stared helplessly at the pot
of soup on the cooking gas with
fear and trembling. The smoke is
beginning to stream out with
greater intensity now. ‘Who would
help me?’ She thought to herself
in utter fright.
She bit her lips and cursed
herself for not paying enough
attention while Ocholi was
explaining how to put off the
cooking gas when the food
eventually gets done in his
absence. Maybe she should have
asked him to show her instead.
The three-stone firewall – ígbelí –
she uses back at the village
doesn’t require any special skill in
putting off its fire; she most times
scatters the firewood and allow
the fire die down on its own
accord or better still, those times
when she wants to be stingy with
the leftover firewood,
peradventure market day was the
next and the probability of going
to fetch firewood was close to
impossible, she just quickly pour
water on the woods to extinguish
it. She didn’t know what to do
right now; she had tried fanning
air underneath the pot but the fire
flames from the gas cooker
almost caught her eyes some
hours ago, she waved off the
option of pouring water because
she feared that may put the whole
house in flames.
Laibe kept watching with
helplessness as the soup Ocholi
was almost done with before
dashing out burnt down before
her very eyes. She couldn’t recall
the last time she felt this
helpless, the last time she felt like
she was doing something of
gross regret. She kept spanking
her head whenever she
remembered how she wasn’t
paying keen attention to all Ocholi
was saying before hurrying out of
the house. How could she have?
She muttered underneath her
breath again. After locking the
entrance door, the young man
came bare-chested in her
direction holding a knife firmly in
his hand.
Her mind had raced and beaten
so fast that one may think she
would collapse in on herself in no
distant time. To her
disappointment though, Ocholi
only handed over the knife in his
hand to her and asked that she
followed him down to the kitchen
so they both can prepare
something to eat.
That was supposed to relieve her,
right? But her mind had gone too
far initially, too far for it to
consider coming back this early.
She thought of the stories she
heard about the use of children
for money ritual when Ocholi
approached her, she remembered
all those horrible tales of children
who got kidnapped and killed for
many reasons best known to the
perpetrators of the acts. Frankly,
she was already convinced same
thing had happened to her. That
was why even when Ocholi
brought the wooden board for her
on which she would help him
slice the vegetables he took out
from the unusually wide white
refrigerator at the left corner of
the kitchen, it fell off her shivering
hands in an attempt to collect it.
Ocholi only smiled and kept the
board on the kitchen locker
instead before motioning her with
his eyes to be quick with the
slicing.
Laibe started slicing the
vegetables carefully, almost as
immediate as Ocholi gave her the
speechless order. She was of
course used to this at home, so
much so that she could cut up to
a basin full of ugwu leaves for
her mum to use in cooking the
usual delicious obo àpi she sells.
One thing marvels Laibe though:
the fact that a man was doing the
cooking in her aunt’s house
appeared extremely strange and
ultimately too weird for her. Back
in Ofabo, a man shouldn’t be seen
anywhere near the kitchen, let
alone allowed to go the extent of
making fire and cooking. They
should normally sit after a long
day at the farm or for the
irresponsible ones, a long day
talking and drinking palm wine at
the village square, to be served
the food promptly prepared by
their wives and girls in the home.
Seeing a man cooking here now
looks like the height of
emasculation in her lifetime.
She stole a glance at him while he
was mashing the àpí and some
sliced onions in a big brown bowl.
She kept on watching, even while
slicing, till he opened one of the
many maroon painted drawers to
bring out a can of palm oil which
he then poured into the hot
steaming pot on the cooker. She
immediately recognised that can.
They would always give aunty
Udale freshly prepared palm oil in
it every year, just when she is
about travelling back after
Christmas. At least that has been
a continuous gesture for as long
as she could remember.
“Take care of this, I have to
quickly take that car back to the
mechanic and get some things for
aunty before she return home
from her office.”
Ocholi’s voice startled her and
brought her back from all the
places her mind had meandered
to.
“Urhm?” she questioned dumbly,
pointing Ocholi’s attention to the
cooker and he got the message
immediately. The tall young man
smiled peevishly before turning
back in the direction of the soup
pot. The only thing left to add in
there was the vegetable she was
almost done slicing. Ocholi told
her, pointing at the switch in front
of the tall gas cooker, that she
should turn the knob totally to her
left whenever the food was done
and that’d be all. That said, he
dashed out of the house like
someone was pursuing him. Well,
Laibe could understand why; the
kitchen time showed that it was
almost 3pm already and he
needed to hurry down to enable
him do what’s required of him.
She smiled shyly at the thought
that Ocholi smiled at her, but
quickly hit her head off that
thought almost at the same time.
Why is she already beginning to
like him? She does not even
know.
He is very patient, very patient
she affirmed.
With the uncountable
misbehaviours of the car on their
way from the village, he still kept
calm while trying to fix it at every
point it broke down. He is humble,
of course, because when she was
outside, busy admiring the
interlocked ground in the
compound, Ocholi packed in
everything from the trunk into the
house, including the large bunch
of plantain Baba sent down for
his daughter. The biggest point of
attraction for her is this fact; the
fact that he could cook. The
whole kitchen already diffused the
aroma from the delicious soup he
left under her watch.
‘People like Omachoko, the village
champion would be claiming: I am
a man and shouldn’t be seen in
the kitchen at the village…
Mtcheew’
She drew a long hiss after that
thought flashed her mind while
still admiring Ocholi in her head.
She poured, after washing, the
ugwu into the pot and mixed
appropriately before sitting on one
of the chairs in the semi dining
room, somewhere near the
entrance of the wide kitchen. She
wondered, as she always have all
the times she saw on the only
wallpaper hanging above her
mother’s bed, why there would be
a dining room inside the kitchen
again. It didn’t make any sense to
her, unless they expected the food
to be eaten while cooking
concurrently.
But right now, that soup, that
delicious and inviting-to-the-nose
aroma soup is burning all down.
She gave up trying and just stood
staring at the smoke like someone
awaiting execution. She could
imagine the screams she would
get from her aunty when they got
back here. More so that it was
only her first day.
Hope they won’t send her back to
the village after this and leave her
heartbroken again. She also felt
like crying as she imagined the
disgusting look Ocholi would give
her when he sees this mess as
well, it can never be his usual
smiling face, and he may not ever
show her his usual kind face
anymore. All these thoughts
drowned her mind as tears
involuntarily started flowing down
her cheeks, that’s aside the large
pints of sweat running down the
back of her ear and soaking her
dress. Fear had eaten up almost
half of her.
Just then, the kitchen door
opened, a tall and huge man
walked in, he sneezed first at the
door and brought out a
handkerchief from his bag. The
bag looked like a company’s
official bag with the many
inscriptions on it and with the way
he held it firmly in his hand. The
huge man walked quickly past her
and towards the gas cooker on
which the almost totally burnt
soup sat, with the white
handkerchief firmly covering his
nose.
He simply turned the cooker’s
knob down to his left and the fire
was put out. Laibe didn’t
understand what just happened.
She thought the gas cooker was
programmed to function under the
touch of specific persontouch of specific persons –
maybe normal members of this
house – because she struggled to
turn down that knob totally to the
same left side but it got stuck at
some point like it was going to
even break.
“Ólànè sir” Laibe greeted the
huge middle age man immediately
he started walking back towards
the door. He said nothing to her.
Neither an angry scold nor an
answer to her ‘good evening sir’.
He just maintained the mean look
he wore right through the door.
Laibe couldn’t decipher who he
was. He walked with so much
boldness and composure that if
here were to be a party, he would
perfectly fit in for a bouncer. Even
underneath his kaftan, one could
trace the edges of his well-built
muscular body.
“What is happening here?”
Laibe quickly turned in fear again
to see her aunty running into the
kitchen and Ocholi following
closely behind her. Her heart beat
increased greatly as her eyes fell
on Ocholi.
They both walked like they were
under the effect of same control
centre to the cooker from which
the smoke, that had filled the
entire kitchen, came.
“L-A-I-B-E??” Her aunty stressed
after opening the totally burnt pot
of obo api.
Laibe didn’t know what to say,
whether to cry or just leave her
shivering body standing right
there. She wished the ground
could open and swallow her up
right now. Ocholi opened the
windows to enable some air in
before moving to switch on the air
conditioner, thankfully there was
light.
“Why did you leave her alone
Ocholi, what came over you?”
Aunty Udale yelled at the young
man that just walked to the AC
switch and Laibe felt stabbed in
the heart for it. She was the
offender; every punishment, every
scold and maybe every stroke of
the cane should be directed at her
not at Ocholi, her crush.
“Aunty, I showed her how to
switch it off before I left” he
replied calmly
“Don’t tell me that, my friend!
How would you possibly show her
how to use a gas cooker just on
her first visit! She’s been used to
ìgbelì all her life” she yelled again
at the top of her voice.
“I’m sorry ma” Ocholi replied
much more calmly and Laibe’s
heart skipped a bit. Truly this
Ocholi must be another specie of
a man.
Men don’t apologise. Men
shouldn’t be yelled at. Men are
always right.
These and many more had always
been her belief. She stared at her
aunty and with the way her lips
were squirting, Laibe knew the
woman was extremely angry over
the incidence she just met.
Another big issue is that Laibe
found herself tongue tied, she
didn’t know exactly what to say.
She was sore afraid, very much
afraid.
“Takeher to her room” Aunty
Udale told Ocholi before storming
out of the kitchen and heading
towards the rooms, upstairs.
“Let us go to your room, Laibe”
She heard Ocholi’s voice come
through her auditory canals
calmly and it felt like icing was
poured on her head. At least one
person is speaking to her right
now. Though she didn’t expect
him to sound that nice anymore,
not after he just got series of loud
screams on her account. She
quickly started walking out, back
into the sitting room to pick up
her bag.
Ocholi smiled at her fidgety
walking steps before following
her.
“You are disobeying me again
Udale.”
Udale stood still immediately she
heard the voice, just when she
was barely in the bedroom. She
didn’t expect anyone to be in the
bedroom. Matthew comes home
only during Weekends since his
official commitment in Lokoja, the
state capital.
Whatever brought him home
today, she couldn’t place it.
“You want someone to burn down
my house right? You have more
than enough money in this
economic recession to build or
buy a new ideal house like this
one?” he asked continuously
without waiting for an answer,
looking straight at his wife from
the edge of the bed where he sat
as though he had plans to get up
soon.
Udale did not know what to say.
She was caught in a web right
now. They already discussed her
intentions to let her niece come
stay over at the house last month
but Matthew was totally against
that idea. She didn’t really
understand why, because as
much as she knew him, he used
to be more receptive to even
strangers and the needy than
herself. This is not a case of a
stranger, this was her niece, her
late elder brother’s daughter for
God’s sake. Matthew told her he
would be coming home next week
and that made her decide to bring
Laibe down today, get her a bit
presentable and used to the
corners of their big house, before
her husband gets back. He
should like what he will see then.
Right now, everything is messed
up, she muttered underneath her
breath.
“Ocholi is taking that little girl
back to Ofabo tomorrow morning
and that is final!”
Matthew said firmly, puts his legs
in his slippers and entered into
the bathroom.
Udale stood for a long while,
shocked, confused and unable to
think before collapsing onto the
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