woman”, he thought.
He doesn’t care about her forgiveness. He is her
husband, he owns her, together with everything
belonging to her including her forgiveness. Yes, he
owns her forgiveness.
Baba kunle and Iya Kunle relationship is one that
is hard to explain, the two of them can be the
best couples so far as there is money to spend
but without cheddar, the couples are fierce rivals
fighting for whatever is left that is not yet spent.
On this faithful day, Baba Kunle had sneaked in
while Iya Kunle was taking her bath with the last
note on her left unguarded beneath the pillow. Iya
Kunle had hopped out of the makeshift bathroom
half-clad with soap bubbles still dream-walking
around her body after suspecting the heist that
was about to happen. It was mere five hundred
naira but she have a lot of plan for the money.
Baba Kunle was quiet even when his wife hurl the
scary threat at him. He has been busy all through
the week permutating and strategizing for the
weekend launch of the British Premier League.
“Chelsea win, Arsenal win, Man U win or draw”.
He had all program in his head. All that is
standing between him and his Jackpot is his wife
Iya Kunle that is literally and physically foaming.
“Old woman!”, that’s what he calls his wife
whenever she is acting like Morgana Pendragon.
“Get out of my way old lady, I’m in a hurry”.
Iya Kunle struggle to figure out where his
husband is as the soap foam was now hurting
her eyes but that is not as important as
recovering her money from Baba Kunle.
“Peter! You know your kids have not eaten since
yesterday”, Iya kunle attempted talking sense into
her husband, “what do you think will happen now
when the kids return from fetching water from
Asejire”.
Baba Kunle shrug his should like a recalcitrant
teenage. That’s not the first time that the kids
will be hungry for that long. The family had fasted
the Ramadan fast even though they were not
Muslims. That’s the situation in Osun state now.
Replying his wife is a waste of time.
He sneaked beneath her arms and made his way
with the money. The first match he forecasted
should be starting soon. He can’t risk not
winning. Losing is not an option. Life is a gamble
but he had been assure by his friend that he will
win if he play less than five sure games. He pray
things work out or else it’s another el-classico
war of words between him and his eight hungry
children when he get home.
Iya kunle felt betrayed. He know what he went
through to get that money just to feed his
children. The country is hard and he can’t afford
seeing his children so hunger-stricken like that.
Such a useless husband.
She picked her phone and send a call me back
sms to Baba Sabina. The man called back
instantly.
“Hello sir”- she greeted. “Hello Iya Kunle”- the
thick voice prick her ear-drum from the speaker of
her tecno phone. She can smell the stench of his
cigarette smelling mouth even through her cell-
phone. “I need your help again ni sir”- she said
with her trademark coyness. “Wow! I never know
it will be so fast”- Baba Sabina cackle like a lister
generator struggling to start, “You know the
regular procedure now. Abi, back to the ground,
money in the purse”- he said.
“Ok sir!”- She said. “And no crying this time.
Ok?”- Baba Sabina instructed. “no problem with
that sir”- she replied.
She needed the money he is going to pay badly.
What else would she do when her family has been
living on the Microfinanced loan they received
since five months ago? Their flat screen TV was
their collateral and they are only two weeks from
defaulting. She can’t even imagine the kids not
having the TV to watch and no food to eat.
She say a silent prayer. May God forgive her, but
she didn’t consider anything she is doing sinful,
she is doing all these for her children. Morality
only comes after survival.
In two hours time, something far shocking than
the drama that just unfolded happened.
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