Thou art a young wife, so I shall open all my mouth. On that first day that his adultery comes to light, the whole world is right behind you, so let the force of your fury be known. Be natural, let it all hang out. The plates, the framed photographs of your wedding, his suits even, these are the legitimate, the expected casualties of his embarrassing sex.
Noise the scandal to whom you may, what more do you have to hide? You heard it on the bus, did you not, between Onipanu and Maryland? The yellow girl with the housegirl hairstyle boasting of how much she got off the paddy with the potbelly who drives the green Cressida at Cement Busstop? Tell your friends, the groundnut hawker, his own friends even. Let the world feel the pain of his betrayal of you. Pain shared = pain halved, and all that.
On the second day you are still feeling bad, as is to be expected. It is a four-year-old marriage, is it not? One daughter, two London holidays, and a house already growing in the village? Fine, rage some more. Take the excuse of every word he says to dump on him. He deserves it, does he not? A man wants to stray and it is that ugly housegirl-type that his hands can reach.
You could smell her from halfway down the bus, couldn’t you? And she fought like a wildcat too, practically stripped you naked during the fight at the Maryland bus park, didn’t she? Well let him have it then. Let your eyes flash and glint through all his apologies, break his I’msosorry champagne in front of him. Every fifteen minutes or so, hiss ominously. And if he so much as sets an apologetically seductive hand on you… well I don’t have to tell you what to do about that.
But this is the third day and you are not yet five years at this, are you? Fine, let me open all my mouth. You will notice from the party we threw last month that this is my fiftieth-year-anniversary – and my husband still holds my hand during our evening strolls.
On the third day, my young, inexperienced sister, the world is not Click here to continue reading
Do we agree with Grandma?
Mr.Chuma Nwokolo is a writer and advocate. His writings can be found here