TRAPPED...Part 14.

"Why do men cheat?"

It was Ebere, asking no one in particular as she cut a lace material on the table. I paused momentarily to look at her and couldn't suppress the laughter. 

"Aunty, why are you laughing? Is it not an important question to ask?"

"It is important o!" I said, still laughing. "When you see men, help me ask them."

We were swamped with work and I was hurrying to meet some deadlines. Habiba was on my neck. Her wedding was the next day and I had promised her the clothes will be ready that evening. I could not afford to disappoint her. I stood up to stretch my back. The standing fan in the room blew hot air. It was that time of the year when the sun fires down with rage, as if angry with mankind. The rains have not started and everywhere people complain incessantly about the heat. I picked up a scissors and trimmed off the excess thread from one of Habiba's hijab. Her clothes were almost finished.

"My landlord and his wife had a big fight in our compound today," Ebere said. She lived in a public yard, housing  twelve rooms in two wings facing each other.

"Again?" I asked, amused. "Don't they ever get tired?"

"Hmmm. The fight this time was very serious o! The man was having his bath when his phone rang. The wife picked the call. It was a woman. Na so the wife begin interrogate the woman. As soon as the husband came out of the bathroom, she confronted him. The next thing we knew, they were shouting on top of their voices, throwing accusations back and forth. Next thing, dem begin fight. They fight comot the house and continued at the centre of the compound. Their children were trying to separate them. Dem no gree."

I shook my head. "So, how the fight take end?"

"The woman brought a pestle to hit the man. The man dodged it and landed her a blow on the head, with his fist. The woman fainted. Na so me I pick race begin come shop, because if Police come, dem go arrest everybody. As I was leaving, the children were pouring cold water on her, trying to revive her. The man just sat on a chair, fanning himself."

"Tufiakwa!"I snapped my fingers. "In his mind he is one heavyweight champion, abi?"

"Mtchew!" Ebere hissed. "I still don't understand why a man will cheat on the mother of his children." 

"Men are complicated beings," I began. "Their minds don't work like ours. A man can just leave his mistress' apartment and go straight home to his wife and children, feeling no qualms. Some men cheat because they are bored. Some cheat because they feel that they can. But majority cannot explain why they cheat. I think cheating is a bad habit some men picked from the past before they got married. A few kick the habit by becoming more disciplined and God-fearing. The rest just keep slipping till one day when monkey go go market, e no go return." Ebere exploded in laughter.

Uche started crying. It was his means of announcing that he was awake. He had been sleeping on the floor at one end of the room. Ebere brought him to me. His cry reduced to whimpers. I fetched his feeding bottle and fed him. I had tried not to think of the events of the past week. Jimmy's parents have offered severally to meet but I refused. I avoided anything that will take me back into that dark place. I tried to be happy, burying myself in work and loving my kids. Life is too short to be lived unhappy.

Just then, Ola, my student tailor, entered the shop with Vicky. I had sent her to pick Vicky from school.

"Mummy!" Vicky ran to where I was working.

"V-Darling, how was school today?" I said, setting Uche down on a wrapper. 

"Fine," she said, removing her school bag from her back.

I ran my hand through her braids and stroked her cheek. She smiled. Her yellow checkered uniform had a brown sandy spot at the hem.

I checked her lunch box. Her food was untouched.

"Why didn't you eat your food?" I asked her.

She was quiet.

"Oya, carry this food now and go and finish it. I don't want to see one grain of rice remaining." She carried the lunch box and moved towards the fan.

I worked silently for another two hours. By 5.15 pm, I stood up in triumph. I had completed Habiba's clothes. I called to tell her it was ready. Thirty minutes later, she entered the shop in the company of an older woman. Her hands were covered with intricate designs in ink.

"Amariya," I said, smiling. "Your work give me wahala o!"

She laughed. "I am happy you finshed it. You tailors know how to disappoint pesin eh!" She turned to the woman with her. "This is my friend, Stella. She owns this shop."She faced me. "Aisha is my cousin. They all came for the wedding." 

I greeted the woman. She seemed more interested in the children sleeping at the far end of the room.

"Are they your kids?" Aisha asked, pointing at them.

"Yes," I replied, seperating Habiba's clothes from the pile of finished work.

"How long have you been married?"she asked again.

Her question caught me off-guard. "I...um...am not married," I said.

She gave me a queried look. I shrugged.

"You are a lucky woman," she said.

I could not believe my ears. "How?" I asked, surprised.

"I have been married for ten years. And I am yet to have a child." There was pain in her voice. "My husband went ahead and married a second wife. Then a third and a fourth wife. None of us have given him a child. I am praying, inshah Allah, that I be the first one to give him an heir. And here you are, with two children. Two!" Two of her fingers were almost in my face.

"Have you been to a hospital? At least, to know what is wrong?" I asked, touched by her plight.

"No," she said. "I mentioned it once. My husband dismissed the idea."

"Hmmm. I think you should go to the hospital. They may be able to help you there. Habiba should be able to take you."

She suddenly became uneasy. "I can't go without my husband's permission."

I stared at her in disbelief.

After they left the shop, I went to wake the children. It was time to go.

Ebere and Ola had left some minutes earlier. I locked the shop. As we walked into the busy street, I ran a checklist in my head. I was counting my blessings.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

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