When you live in a “compound” you’ll understand what “real struggle” is. No, No, No, real struggle is not walking in on your fiancee cheating on you with your best friend.
Real struggle is spending an hour and half at the public bathroom waiting your turn, fighting your way through some bullying neighbors to bath at your rightful turn then walking in on your fiancee cheating with your best friend. An hour and half later.
So next time, when one of those ajebutters or popular middle class ladies narrate to you, sobbing, “how she’s struggling to catch up with her bills only for her fiancee to be cheating on her”, slap her on the back and say, “Shut up. There are others who wait in line an hour and half, fight to take a bath then find out that all the while their fiancee and best friend are having an affair, all in a space of twenty minutes .”
Every story has a starting point; or a “trigger” as I always prefer to term it. For the Trojans, the starting point of their war against Greece must have been the abduction of Helen. For Romeo and Juliet, it must have been the party they met and feel in love. Forthe story of my cheating fiancee, the starting point was when I introduced him to my then “new bestie”, Abigail. It was the starting point but at the time, I did not know.
In honesty, Abigail and I had met a week from the day I introduced her to my fiancee, Soji. I was bestfriendless then and probably desperate to get a gossip mate/ bestie, that I got it in my head to make Abigail my friend.
Everything was going on perfectly. She was from a wealthy home and the only child of her parents. At least, I had someone to settle the bills when we ate out. Not to exclude a personal driver slash bestfriend. Did you just ask, ” whether my fiancee, Soji, didn’t take care of me well?” Please, Please, let’s not get into that. Ah Ah, don’t be falling my hand in public now.
You see eh, Soji is a front desk receptionist for Glo. He’s monthly salary is barely twenty thousand naira and by the time we settle the rent what’s left is divided into two; the first half is sent to his mother and siblings in the small village of Umulungwe while the other half is spent on his drinking.
I know deep down you’re “taking style” to insult me. It’s fine, go ahead, God is watching. It’s probably because you don’t know how passionate Soji is about his dream of owning a world-class mechanic shop and how loving he can be when he’s not drunk. I love a man who dreams. That’s the reason I cling to him like I do. So that when he makes his money, I’ll have the right to say, ” I went through the toughest times with my Soji” of course I’d be in an expensive designer gown, probably from Dash or Christian Milan or a wonderful designer I haven’t heard of yet, giving a speech in Soji’s 15m naira mansion.
Abigail was really a caring friend if I recall well. She was always getting me gifts, calling to how I was faring and even checking up on me at home those days I travelled. Kabiru, my next door neighbor always informed me of “that your phine frien wey find you come when you travel.” Of course I saw nothing wrong in her visiting when I was absent.
Today is the fifth day of August. The time is 11:55am precisely. I’m supposed to be on my usual trip to Jalingo to get supplies for my store. But instead, I’m dripping bath water all over the cheap red rug that is already smelling. I am controlling myself for now. I have not screamed or rained curses as expected in this sort of situation. I am calm. Which is probably worst than the screaming and cursing because I cannot tell what my next actions would be and when. My head has started spinning. My hesrtbeat is racing. My mind is just not coordinated at the moment.
The two people in the same room with me both have their faces and entire beings ready for my angry outbursts. They seem confused now I haven’t made any moves. The male, the one I share this house and everything in it; (including the smelly red rug) calls my name with