Skip to main content

Work in Progress: To Love a Woman By Sunny Jack Obande

Sunny Jack Obande

Wilfred was indeed surprised when he got home at few minutes to six that evening and met Rita’s absence. It was unlike her; she usually arrived home before him especially since her office closes at 4pm, an hour earlier than his does. In addition, on the occasions that she opted to stop over either at her hairdresser’s place or to pick a few confectioneries from the stores, she’d always put a call through to intimate him of her movements.

At first, Wilfred figured she might possibly have taken a stroll to the mall in the neighborhood to get one household item or the other. This thought was reinforced when he remembered she had complained days earlier on the need to restock the condiment in their food store, as they were already low on supplies. 

He thought to himself that the quarrel they had the previous night might be the reason she had refused to call him. He picked his mobile phone to dial her number to know where she was, but sheer pride got the better of him and he quickly changed his mind. 

After a brief consideration, he reckoned that he should not be the first to break this particular deadlock. Rita had really disrespected him by daring to open her mouth and called his actions childish. She should learn to apologize anytime she misbehaved or said something wrong. 

With these thoughts, running through his mind and giving him a feel-good air of vindication, Wilfred decided to attend to his plants in the small garden at his backyard while he awaited her return. He loved to spend time with these plants whenever he was less busy. To him, gardening was a form of leisure that should be cherished. Moreover, his plants were flourishing thanks to the packet of specially formulated fertilizer that Mr. Wang had brought to him as a gift from China.

Mr. Wang was one of the foreign experts engaged by NIGCOMSAT to oversee the company’s other ground control base station located in faraway China. He had gradually taken a liking to Wilfred in the course of his repeated consultative visits to the Nigerian office and had promised to bring him this special fertilizer on his next visit after learning that Wilfred loved gardening. 

The Chinese man had eventually delivered on the promise and even gone ahead to demonstrate to Wilfred, in faltering English, how to sprinkle the fertilizer uniformly around the mulch soil of each plant after which he should endeavor to irrigate immediately.

“Do...every two weeks... for good plants... grow... fast,” Mr. Wang had gesticulated to him in his funny English, smiling proudly to show off badly stained teeth. He was a gangly man with smouldering cigarette sticks eternally hanging from the side of his mouth.

Wilfred had done as he was taught by Mr. Wang and his garden had assumed a new healthier look since after, the tomatoes and peppers especially. Presently he even noticed more fresh fruits have sprouted that were not there the last time he was here to tend the garden. He fixed the long hosepipe to the tap head beneath the kitchen’s window and proceeded to water his plants and do some pruning. 

He was still preoccupied with tending to the garden when, from over the walls separating them and their neighbors, Bruno, the neighbor's dog began to bark and trash excitedly around in his cage on sensing his owners presence at the front gate. 

Few minutes later and Wilfred could hear the gate being unlocked and the neighbor’s car driven into their house. He heard the car’s doors being opened and closed, followed immediately by the children’s chattering as they ran into the house. 
He checked his watch. It was a couple of minutes to 8 o’clock and Rita had not returned. What could be keeping her? A sudden thought crossed his mind and he became a bit worried. Could it be that she had seized on the opportunity that they were having a little misunderstanding to visit any of those her anonymous male admirers? Wilfred pictured his Rita sitting on the laps of a stranger and felt blood rushed to his face. He imagined Rita smiling willingly as this imagined stranger whispered lewd words to her. He pictured the stranger’s hands fondling delicate parts on his Rita’s soft skin and he involuntarily clenched his fist so tight it began to hurt.

Without a second thought, he fished the mobile phone from his pocket and dialed her number with shaky hands. “Where are you right now?” he almost screamed immediately she picked the call.

“Please come and open the gate for me,” Rita replied from the other end. She was already in front of the house.

Only then did Wilfred realize his heart was already pounding so fast as though wanting to burst out of his rib cage. He heaved a controlled sigh and tried to steady his breathing as he hurried round the building and made for the front gate.

“I’m very sorry I stayed out this late,” Rita began to apologize as Wilfred opened the gate for her to come in, “I couldn’t get a cab coming this way on time-”

“Where are you coming from?” Wilfred queried with a glare.

“I followed Buki home from the office.”

“When did you start following Buki home from the office?”

“You are raising your voice, Baby,” she tried to caution him.

“What if I raise my voice? Do you realize it’s almost 8 o’clock?”

“Please, can we go inside?” Rita begged and tried to touch him on the shoulder, “I will explain.” 

Nevertheless, Wilfred rebuffed her gesture angrily.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

From the novel entitled, "Beyond Imagination" by Oladele Dada.

 Oladele Dada. It was dawn. The chilly dust-laden wind formed dense fog on the road. The rocky hills and the tall trees made Ajewole a beautiful town. The birds sang aloud, and clanging of stainless dishes in the neighbourhood suggested human activity was at its peak. Humans had begun to move to their various destinations. Adunni had trouble with child bearing and her husband was worried. Then she booked an appointment with her doctor. After several tests, the doctor suggested the couple be patient and that she will surely get pregnant. Not long after, Adunni was pregnant. After several months, Adunni was delivered of a boy. The women in her neighbourhood, alongside the children, sang and danced to her home to celebrate with her. Her husband, Fredrick Olagbade, thanked the Lord and named the boy Juwon.     As Juwon grew, his mother had another child whose name was Olakitan. Juwon was intelligent and his parents were struggling to make ends meet. As poverty st...
6 comments
Read more

BOOK EXCERPT: The Farmhouse by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

The Farmhouse  by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren Chapter One The Family `Once upon a time in the old town of Gid, an old farmer called Erasmus had a horse and a son. The boy’s name was Jason, and the horse was Francis. They lived in a farmhouse, and Francis took them everywhere they went. The farmer had no wife. She died after Jason was born. Erasmus vowed never to remarry and had remained a widower ever since. Taking care of Jason and Francis alone was never easy, but the farmer promised his late wife on her deathbed that he was going to raise Jason into a fine man. One sad morning, the cockerel said it was dawn. The disturbance woke Jason. The boy stormed out of sleep. He removed the blanket and rolled out of bed. He went to the window and peered out. The weather was clear, and the boughs of trees bowed and danced to the sweet movement of the morning breeze. Jason liked the morning, and then he carried himself to the sitting room, where his father was on his knees saying his morning prayers....
1 comment
Read more

NEW RELEASE: Those Ghostly Victorians by Annette Siketa

  Those Ghostly Victorians by Annette Siketa ABOUT THE BOOK At its zenith, the belief in ghosts in the Victorian era bordered on the hysterical. From stately homes to deserted wells, no dwelling was complete without a resident ghost. Halls and mansions and even the odd palace or two, spawned a multitude of family legends, many of which still persist. Many people claimed to have direct contact with a ghost through an object such as a ouija board or a pen, the latter collectively known as 'spiritual writing'. For example, a secretary allegedly continued to take dictation from his employer long after the latter was dead. Whether it was through books, plays, or supposedly true stories, the influence of the supernatural was profound. And it is not difficult to understand why, especially in the 'lower class', the majority of whom were uneducated. With nothing but drabness and poverty on the horizon, events such as a windy night or a violent storm were likely to set the ima...
Post a Comment
Read more