LION AT HOME, SHEEP IN PUBLIC: My Funny Experience with a Lousy Husband

I burst out from the passageway inbetween the fashion section of the market onto the mainroad. I stood moping for a while, carrying my big yellow shopping bag and looking like a JJC. But I wasn't. I was in fact a youth corps member due to round off service in a few weeks, but was as broke as anything; and hungry too.

So I tried to decide whether to use the meager amount on me to satisfy my week-long craving, a plate of delicious local meal at a fine restaurant 10 minutes walk away (because I wouldn't be able to afford a bike fare), or to use the money to cook myself a modest meal instead (of course I knew I wouldn't. I was only pretending to think like a responsible young lady).

But I didn't have to stay too long in my dilemma, for I soon sighted a young woman selling boiled maize from a wheel barrow. I could always stop at the restaurant later, or cook myself a meal later, but maize was already going out of season and before long I wouldn't see fresh ones again. So I opted for the steaming and sweet-smelling maize. 

By this time,  the worms in my stomach were already revolting, those slithering bastards, 'twas as if they were saying the seller wasn't fast enough in selling and they couldn't wait any longer. And did they even expect me to start devouring the maize on the road? 

Their answer came soon enough. 😥

As soon as I boarded a bike to go and supply the bags of chinchin I had in my shopping bag, the worms came at me, even more ferociously this time, and I nearly doubled over on the bike, holding my stomach in a grimace. Quickly, I brought out the maize and began to eat. This time, in pain and without shame. 😂

I was still on that cob when I got to my first customer's shop. I should probably mention at this point that this customer of mine just got married about three months ago. The following conversation transpired between us:

Customer: (sighting me from a distance) Ah ah, Ade (as he fondly calls me), what is the meaning of this? 

Me: What now? What have I done? (laughing guiltily) 

Customer: Why are you eating on the road, eh? A whole you. 

Me: Leave that side abeg, I'm not looking for husband in this town (laugh)

Customer: Don't talk like that oh, it's very bad. Do you know, if it were my wife that did something like this, I could flog her for it? 

Me: Oh, really? Your wife is now a child that you can flog anyhow? Moreover, why are you telling me? You want to discipline me too? 

Customer: (noticing my changing countenance) Haba now, no oh. I can't touch you now, you're not my wife. I'm just correcting you... 

At that point, some men whom I first presumed to be customers walked in, and I thought to myself, "see how God just saved this man, I would have lectured him today." Turned out I was wrong, they were some of the Governor's boys (I don't want to say "rascals") taxing (or should I say "extorting") shopowners for attaching extensions to their roofs. When I noticed that their exchange with my customer was taking a volatile turn, I excused them and sat outside at a safe distance from the shop to eat my second maize.

Several minutes later, when I noticed that the men had left, I went back to the shop and sat at the entrance outside. My customer came out and found me still feasting on my maize and said, "So you've been here since and these people were harassing me, you didn't even show face. If they were going to kill me too, that's how you would have been here eating maize." People of God, I couldn't hold my laughter, although I explained that I excused myself from the scene for my own safety.

What I didn't tell him was that I didn't think it was necessary to rescue an abuser from the hands of another abuser. Some men exercise physical control over their wives simply because they know they can't be overpowered, not because of the 'offence' per se. I'm sure if his wife was a heavyweight boxing champion, he wouldn't have dared to think about flogging her for eating outside. It's just funny how these kind of men become lily-livered when matched against their fellow men. Lol. 

Those rascals made away with all his earnings for that day, he was so pained that his eyes were red, and he had to borrow from his neighbour (I think) to pay me for my goods. Yet, as much as I liked him before that day, I couldn't feel any pity for him. 

It's hard to feel pity for the oppressed these days, because what they lack is not power to fight for themselves. What they really lack is opportunity to show their true selves. Watch how they treat those around and beneath them, those weaker than them. They are themselves even more brutish than their oppressors. 

Karma, at the end of the day, is not a bitch. Karma is a darling. A bottle of whatever Karma drinks for Karma, on me. 😎😀

7.12.18