These were the words she whispered urgently to us, ten minutes before we heard the sharp rap on our apartment door on Sunday evening and she disappeared into my children’s closet, her bags pushed quickly under the bed.
Moments later, after an awkward ‘Who is there?’ Felicia
opened the door to an obviously upset Janta, and the overwhelming shroud of
alcohol that accompanied him through the door.
‘Oga Jay, long time. Come in.’
I approach the door and place my hand on Felicia’s
shoulder. ‘The Jay-Jay!’ I attempt the nickname in a voice that sounds not
quite as jovial as intended. I look him straight in the eye nonetheless and ask
‘Is everything okay? You don’t look your normal self’
By now he has walked past us into the sitting room, his
eyes darting left and right, taking in the furniture, the dining area and
settling on the curtain. For a moment it seems he will walk towards them and rattle
the curtains in the hope of unearthing his wife beneath the folds of cotton and
chiffon.
‘Has she been here?’ He rasps out in a voice which is a
fraction more menacing than his bloodshot eyes and flared nose. As if on cue,
Felicia and I chorus ‘Who?’ then we exchange supposedly baffled looks and
Felicia tries him again ‘Has who been here?
‘My wife; I just got home and discovered all her things
gone.’
A small shout escapes Felicia’s lips as she covers the
sides of her face with both palms.
‘That’s serious o. did you both have a quarrel or
something?’
‘No quarrel. She served me breakfast before I left the
house this morning, without any warning, and now this.’
‘So strange, that’s unlike her,’ Felicia seems to have
found her tongue
‘Have you checked for her anywhere else?’
Janta shakes his large head and asks ‘Like where?’
‘I don’t know,’ I’m trying to keep the irritation out of
my voice ‘Church, her relatives, other close friends?’
At this he fixes his eyes accusingly on us ‘She has no
other friends I can think of.’
‘That’s really sad,’ I return his accusation; stare for
stare, my hands now folded across my chest.
‘We’ll be sure to let you know if she comes around or
calls.’ Felicia says to him, her palm on my arm willing the sinews there to
relax
‘Yes, we can do that for you Janta. In the meantime if
you need any other help, please let us know.’ I knew I would do no such thing
‘Thank you then’ he keeps looking into the children’s
room as he makes his way to the front door.
Ini had tried to leave before; after the gizzard
episode. That was what Felicia coined the incident that had Janta chastising
Ini for daring to share in the slices of gizzard he had offered Edem her
brother; It was a delicacy supposedly reserved for only men. To remind her of
her place as a woman he had struck her across the face as she sat next to Edem,
whose attempt to block the blows only ensured she got some more to her shoulder
and neck. A verbal exchange ensued, after which the younger man had
subsequently walked out from their home where he was originally meant to spend
the night. I had looked on as Felicia inspected her bruises two days after,
unable to fathom how a man could watch another man beat up his younger sister
then walk away from the scene without making the man see flashbulbs through his
fists or at least resetting his jaw.
It had happened in July, school was out so she took the
children for an extended vacation, determined not to succumb to pressure from
friends and family urging her to return home. September found her back in their
Ikeja apartment though; awaiting the arrival of their third child. Ini seemed
designed to suffer and never let the smile desert her pretty face, her small
frame retaining its youthful figure even as the years rolled by.
Looking at her now; smooth skin the colour of honey,
hair full and falling inches past her shoulders, it is difficult to reconcile
her good looks and attractive smile to the abuse she has intimated us of. One thing
gives her away though; her eyes. The dark brown irises are a sad cocktail of
insecurity, fear and anger. Coming out of the closet minutes after Janta leaves,
her eyes become suddenly animated, jumping at every movement and sound, her
gaze darting towards the front door; half expecting Janta to materialize there
again. Felicia sits with her on the bottom bed of our girls’ double bunk, right
hand on the small of her back, left hand on her lap where Ini’s hands wring and
flex every few seconds
‘I left,’ she offers as if programmed. ‘I just got my
things and left.’
‘The Children?’
‘They are alright,’
‘In school?’
She nods. ‘He must not see me. I need to take the
children…’ she jumps up suddenly sensing his presence even before we hear the
door creak open
‘Whose children are you planning to take? And to where?’
‘Ja – jan – ta!’ her voice trails off, marooned in the
stutter
‘Look, this is not the time to get irrational. Calm
down’, not the most sensible thing to say to a man like Janta, but that was the
quickest line that spilled from my lips.
Lunging for her is
probably the most stupid move he has made all day... (to be continued)
