It
was nemesis treating him the same way again; messing him up like he always does
to anyone he picks on. Why won’t he ever learn that nemesis was sure to come
and pick up his pieces like an enemy would, flinging it all over and making
sure it left him marks and injuries in places that hurt.
Mr.
Okoakpa was my neighbour back then so I was more or less an observer. We moved
in the week his third wife moved out so we met a sore tale. He would lament on
how there no good woman was left in the world and how he escaped being killed
by her. He would continue with tales of his second wife’s witchcraft and how
his first wife was all things less than a sweetheart whose main aim was to
steal the whole of his fortune. It did not take long for my nineteen year old ears
to become bored with his stories. Actually bored was an understatement.
Irritated was what I had become with them, but my choices were limited. The
house in question was what my father’s savings could afford as he always noted
that his priorities then was to focus on the education of me and my four
younger brothers. The fact that my parents lived in seeming harmony did nothing
to lend credence to Mr. Okoakpa’s stories. If anything I did not want him
influencing my father with his unwise ideas. I hated the fact that my father
would spend Saturday evenings with him and did not hesitate to let my father in
on how I felt. Of course, dear daddy did not listen to me. I also hated the
fact that my 248 JAMB score was unable to get me to study pharmacy in the universities
that I had applied to.
‘Ndudi!’
Mr. Okoakpa’s voice broke into my reverie one Tuesday morning. I let my gaze
follow his voice through the fence until they rested on the woman who came out
to meet him.
I
could barely wait for my father to settle down before I asked him who Ndudi was
to Mr. Okoakpa.
‘Oh,
that’s his new wife’, he answered, dismissing me but I was not about to be gone
so quickly.
‘Again’
I screamed, ‘He will mess her up just like he did the rest’.
‘What
is your own in Oga Okoakpa’s business?’ my mother asked and I went into a tirade on
how I hated the fact that the man would mess up any woman that came his way
just because he was rich and that my own father subconsciously supported him by
being his confidant and never telling him truth.
My
father was shocked by my outburst. He apologised for his perceived role in Mr.
Okoakpa’s affairs and said that he hoped Ndudi would be a soothing balm to the
neighbour’s wounded heart. I knew that would never be. Ndudi was as sweet as
any woman would be. She was probably too docile in my opinion. She would take
care of Mr. Okoakpa’s two children from his previous marriages in spite of the
fact that their behaviour was stinking to say the least. I even thought she
must have come into the household as a slave because she said yes to everything
thing that came out from her husband’s mouth. Even my father commended her
humility to the disapproving looks of my mother. It was therefore a big
surprise to everyone in the neighbourhood when Mr. Okoakpa married himself a
fifth wife. Even my father, his best friend, was disappointed. That was the
first time my father voiced his opposition to any of Mr. Okoakpa’s actions.
That was also the time my father got to see Mr. Okoakpa for who he truly was.
He insulted my father for daring to suggest that he did not need another wife.
He even insinuated that my father was captivated by the chunks of meat that
Ndudi Okoakpa always offered him when he visited. That was too low for my
father to take. That evening after, he told us the news of the neighbour’s
latest acquisition and the encounter that followed, I heard my mother say to
him that it was time he faced his family. That was the last time my father went
over to Mr. Okoakpa’s house.
Not
totally the last, but the last for a very long time. New wife, Golden became
the new swag. She was always with Mr. Okoakpa, even Ndudi attended to her needs
and none of Mr. Okoakpa’s children dared to say anything unkind to her. She
even represented Mr. Okoakpa in most events that he could not attend. This was
something none of his other wives ever did. Perhaps it was because she worked
with him in the same office.
With
my father’s absence from the Okoakpa’s residence, one would have expected that I
heard less from him but that was not to be as his blaring voice disregarded the
blocks that demarcated both apartments. Most cases the voice sang the praises
of Golden who changed his world. I was elated when my admission came through
the next year and I moved into campus.
Then
came the events that let nemesis in. I was late for my lectures that morning so
I ignored the calls of my name that followed me as I ran into the lecture hall.
She was there when I came out only I did not notice.
‘Dana’,
she called again. This time behind me so all I needed to do was turn.
Golden!!!
Was
I surprised to see her there? Sure. I did not even know she knew me by name. I
did not have to ask what she was doing on campus, she volunteered that and
more. She spoke of how much of a beast Mr. Okoakpa was and how he told lies
about everyone around him. She complained of how he had turned Ndudi to a
punching bag rationalising very punch by saying she deserved it. She left after
he beat her one night simply because she offered Ndudi’s nephew that visited a
meal earlier that day. She said she was ready to start over and needed my assistance
to obtain a masters degree application form. I gave her directions to the Post
Graduate Institute and decided it was time to visit my folks.
It
was not until the weekend that followed that I made the home trip. By then
Ndudi had moved out and the tales were back. This time he added how Ndudi was
forever making him out to be bad before strangers and how Golden wanted to turn
him against his children. I hissed as I listened to him reel out his story to Mr.
Oguche’s fourteen year old son. It is always about him. Never about how he beat
up his women for the slightest things and how no one dared to correct him.
Thankfully the neighbours remember what the sounds of beatings were like. My
mother said he had been to our house twice to lament to my father what he went
through in the hands of Ndudi and Golden but did not get his desired sympathy
from my father.
I
returned back to school two days later. I still remain glad that nemesis was
still couched around him, making sure that he remains lonely. I will not be
surprised if he marries more wives, tells more tales about them. There will
always be that inner ache that neither the lies nor the beatings can soothe.
Keep
faith...
*
The story has been embellished to protect the identity of the persons involved.
