“ But the mansion and posh cars, as well as Mr. Nkwe’s entire business portfolio, now belongs to His younger brother, Mr. Saul’.
I sat very still and composed in my chair. I had trained myself over the years to keep my emotions under strict control so no flicker of fear showed in my eyes, and no tremble of my neatly manicured hands as they lay elegantly on my lap betrayed me. But, deep inside my chest, my heart felt as if a large hand had closed over it and begun to squeeze it with a brutal strength.
“I understand”, I said in a coolly detached tone. “I am in the process of making arrangement for my things to be moved from the villa as soon as possible.”
“Mr Saul has insisted you do not leave the mansion until he meets with you there”, the lawyer said.
“Apparently there are things he wishes to discuss with you that have to do with the handover of the property”.
This time it was almost impossible to control the widening of my eyes as I looked across the wide desk at the short bald man standing on the other side. “I am sure the household staff will be perfectly capable of giving him a guided tour”, I said, tying my hands together to stop them from fidgeting with my bag.
“Nevertheless he insisted on seeing you in person, at 8:00pm this evening, he said. ’I believe he wants to move in immediately’.
I stared at the lawyer, my heart starting to flap in panic. “Is that legal too?” I asked. “The short term lease on an apartment I had lined up fell through and I haven’t had time to search for an alternative. There’s been so much to do and I__”
“It is perfectly legal,” the lawyer said with a hint of impatience. “He has owned the villa for several months now, even before your husband passed away. In any case, a letter was sent to you a few weeks ago to inform you of Mr. Saul’s intention to take possession.”
I felt my insides turn somersaults, not smoothly executed ones, but jerky and uncoordinated tumbles that left me feeling dizzy. I stared at the lawyer, unable to speak, barely able to think. What was I to do? Where was I to go at such short notice? I had money in my account, but certainly not enough to pay for a hotel for days, perhaps even weeks on end whilst searching for a place to live in this God forsaken city in Italy.
Right from the start Nkwe had insisted on everything being in his name, now look at what it has gotten me into. That had been part of the deal he had made when insisting I become his wife. Then upon his death there had been so many expenses with the funeral and the outstanding bills he had left unattended to in the last stages of his illness.
“But I received no such letter!” I finally said when I could get my thoughts into some sort of working order. “Are you sure one was sent?”
The lawyer opened the file in front of him and passed me a copy of a computer- written letter which confirmed my worst nightmare. Somehow the letter must have gone amiss, because I couldn't remember receiving any letter . I stared at the words printed there, unable to believe this was happening to me.
‘I believe you have history with Mr. Saul, yea?’ The lawyer’s voice surprisingly jolted me out of my devastated state of mind and Flashing back to when it all began, passion expressly explored way-way back then between me and my late husband’s younger brother… hmmm, I am only left with shame, and self pity! I was only desperate to help my impoverish background back there at home in Nigeria and as they say, “desperate times call for desperate measures” but hey, I think I am just about to pay a price that may cost my life!
*****************************************
I was born in the shanty town of Ikot
Itam in Rivers state to a drunkard who was wealthy enough to take care of
a whole community at the time when he took life seriously and the only driving
force to him was money.Hmmm... as a child, I lacked nothing, treated to a spoil at every given point in time but with the teachings of great morals and etiquette. Life was simply on its natural state of bliss__ and that was what my father provided!
Raised by a mother with a large heart on the 15th of September, 1984, was all any child could ask for. She needn’t work at all because her needs were lavishly taken care of and she allowed that get into her head without putting into consideration that life is never on a steady pace, it tilts and wavers as it wills at an unpredictable state but only those who are wise enough to read the signs before time, would save while the hay still shines....
That is the mistake a lot of Nigerian women are still making when they eventually marry a man who is living in a land flowing with milk and honey, thinking that they already have security, financially going for themselves and their children, so what’s there to struggle for????
Well, needless to say that that’s the same mistake I am facing today, ofcourse based on a condition that I had no control over but was given the option to follow or fade into oblivious out of penury, though!
“Mummy welcome!”_ I said
‘Ehen’ she mumbled and walked angrily to her room.
Popsy came in looking really tipsy with a tinge of anger on his face. He didn’t say a word but staggeredly strolled in to the room where mumsy was. Just when he opened the door, I heard mumsy raising her voice at the fact that he neglected her in the party by dancing with almost all the ladies while she sat all by herself feeling so insecure and humiliated. Popsy slammed the door, bolted it and what was heard next were screams and cries of mother!
He got her beaten to a pulp. Mailu, the househelp and I were scared to do anything!! With my heart racing and hatred rising against father, I ran to the door, peeped to see what was going on and all I could see was father’s back faced against the door and mother wrapped in on the floor close to the bed with her hands protecting her from several punches, shouting for help. She was holding unto her left cheek where she had be slapped!
“My face oh! My face!! You will kill me today, kill me, you useless-good –for- nothing man. Who were you when you had nothing save for khaki short and a wretched “wash overnight wear am tomorrow shirt” _ mumsy queried!
“After starving and suffering with you, sticking on with you when you had nothing to your name, you think you can make me useless by flirting and sleeping with gold-diggers who weren’t there at your lowest state in life?”
“Now you have become something, you think are god, abi???”
“May God punish you for all the stress i have silently gone through for you, Uwem!”
‘E no go better for you, you this bastard’...!!!
And that was when Father raised his hand and silenced her with a slap on her face that broke her ear drum, leaving her partially deaf on the left ear.
Mailu thought father would end up beating my mother to death, so to save a life she ran out to get help from our neighbors who were by now used to the quarrels from our block in the estate.
What I saw next was unbelievable!!! Mother sobbing in agony was dragged to the bed roughly by father. He tied her two hands and legs separately to the ends of the bed with ropes and her sequence knee length gown was ripped apart, exposing her voluptuously rounded breasts spread across her chest. He grabbed them with both hands in the midst of mother resisting him.
Tearing off the brassier with her breasts spilling out like bags of neatly tied water, he held both in his hands shook them and pounced his mouth on them simultaneously like he were starving, waging his tongue lavishly and ravishingly from one to another and simultaneously touching between her open legs, leaving mother torn in mixed feelings. He quickly unzipped his trouser and shoved his hardness into her, breathlessly pounding his way in and out of her void.
After what seem like eternity, he got up satisfied, walked down to the bedside drawers and brought out a small bottle with the inscription ‘Aboniki’ – a very hot cream used by the northerners to suppress pain in the body_ rubbed it’s substance on mother’s body as she cried out in total torment induced by the hotness of the cream.
Untying and pushing her off the bed, father laid on the bed with legs outstretched, all by himself like he were an accomplished king who had meted a deserved punishment to his queen.
That scene created a permanent scar that never faded away from my memory and the sight of father ceaselessly thrusting in through my mother; aroused a tickling sensation between the tenderness of my thighs way up to the rest of my body.
At eight, I never knew what father was doing to mum on the bed that night but natural instinct made me realize that it was intimacy between man and wife but done in an oppressive way.
And that was the beginning of the adultness in the child that I was, 21years ago in that sitting room behind the keyhole leading to my parents’ little bedroom.
Neighbors came in only to hear sobs from within the room and a child sleeping off at the door with streak of tears streaming down the side of her eyes.
READ PRELUDE II: PAYBACK TIME
