OLD MAN & YOUNG WIVE
I slept outside last night over a fight my husband and I had.
What caused the fight?.
We were sitting in the living room, after dinner, watching a show on the tv, when he requested for a cup of water. I got the water alright, but before handing it to him, I sat down beside him, and took a sip from it, though I wasn’t thirsty.
“Here you go”. i said, offering him the glass.
But to my confusion, this man didn’t make any attempt to collect the cup from me. He stares at it, and at me like I just committed a grīevous offence. He stares to the point that I had to check out the cup.
….Is there a problem?”. I had to break the silence..
“You were thirsty, why didn’t you get a glass for yourself? . Why would you drink mine before giving to me?”. He quarrelled.
“I didn’t drink, I only took a sip”. I laughed, taking another sip, and another, and another…
Honestly, to me, he was playing. We are newly wedded, and should still be on honeymoon, right?.
“I’m talking, you’re still drinking?”. He yelled.
“Now, if you continue yelling at me that way, I’m going to finish this water, and you will have nothing left. Take this from me now!”. I joked.
“You’re commanding me?”. He widened his gaze.
I lifted the glass up again, and started drinking slowly, smiling at him, and expecting him to take it before I finish, but this man was just sitting there, staring at me until the glass was almost empty, and like I said, I wasn’t thirsty.
I put down the cup
“Why didn’t you take the cup from me?. Now you’ve made me drink too much water”. I quarrelled him.
“Susanna, what are you doing?. What’s wrong with you?”. He asked.
“You should be telling me sorry, not yelling at me, mr handsome”. I said, playfully pulling at his white beards.
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
He pushed my hand away forcefully in such a way that the glass fell back on me, spilling the remnant of the liquid all over me.
“How dare you?”. He roared.
“I, I..”. I was dumbfounded.
“Why would you touch my beard?, for what?”. He demanded
“But I was only playing with you”. I stammered.
“Playing with me as what? Age mates?”. He said.
That got me infuriated too. Like, what does age has to do with this?.
“But I, I was, you, you’re my husband. Shouldn’t I play with my husband again?”. I stammered.
“Listen to me, I am your husband, yes. But do not forget we are not age mates. I am 61 year old, almost a triple your age. So learn how to behave yourself anytime we are together”. He warned me, sternly.
I looked at my wet clothes, and back at him, still staring at me.
“Are you not going to say sorry for pouring water on me?”. I asked.
For a response, he gave me a bombastic side eye, sighed, and turned around to face the television.
“Susanna, go get me another glass of water”. He muttered, without looking at me.
I got up, dropped the glass on the table, picked my phone from the couch, but instead of going inside the bedroom, I walked towards the exit, opened the door, and went outside.
I was murmuring as I paced up and down the veranda.
“I’m not stepping my foot into that house until he comes out here, and apologize”.
After about 10 minutes of waiting, I heard the entrance door clicked…finally, he is here.
“I’m going to quarrel him for leaving me in the cold for so long”. I muttered to myself.
I turned around, and faced the opposite direction squeezing my face as I do.
I waited extra 5 minutes, yet he didn’t show up…. I wonder what he was doing at the door.
At this point, I was tired of standing, so I pulled out a chair, and sat down.
“Me and this man tonight. Let him come out first”. I muttered to myself.
I leaned back on the chair, with my legs high on the table. That was how I slept off.
I was awoken by a voice close to me.
I opened my eyes to behold the security man, standing before me.
“Wait, I’m still outside?”. I asked.
“Yes, you dey outside since. Mosquito no dey bite you?”. He asked, concerned.
I put down my legs, and tapped at my phone screen. Time was 10 minutes past 11pm.
“What! this man left me outside?”. I hissed.
“Why oga go do that kind thing now?”. He frowned.
“Mustapha!”. I screamed out..
“Yes madam”.
“Mind your business”. I warned him.
I quickly stood up to go in. The first thing I noticed was the duvet(our duvet) lying by the sill of the door.
How did this get here?. I wondered.
Again, when I tried to open the door, I discovered that this story belongs to Joy Ifunanya he has locked the door from within. I was embarrassed.
“E lock door?”. Mustapha asked from behind.
“Mustapha, go back to your cabin”. I ordered him, without turning.
“Okay. Goodnight”. He said.
I waited until the sound of his heavy footsteps faded, then I dialed my husband’s number. But then, his two lines were off.
No need knocking. I just took two seats, placed them together at a corner in the veranda, where I was sure mustapha won’t easily notice, sat down, and covered myself with the duvet.
That was where I slept till this morning.
It was few minutes before 6am that I heard a faint sound. I opened my eyes, and saw him (hubby) standing in front of the door.
“This will teach you not to disrespect your elders”. He’d said to me before going back inside.
I don enter.
Please, my fellow married women, na so the marriage thing dey be…..?
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