The home of Greg and Ada Amucha , appeared to be heading for grave crisis and they don’t even know it!
This marriage that was just starting, was actually ending.
The home of Greg and Ada Amucha , appeared to be heading for grave crisis and they didn’t even know it!
Ada was tired of this “arrangement”. What goes on in her husband’s bedroom that she cannot be privy to? Why is the music so loud in there? Why is Greg so emotionally unpredictable?
She had tried to have conversations with the long serving members of staff, they were all elusive and she wasn’t exactly sure, but sometimes it felt she could catch a glimpse of pity in their eyes.
Abi, is the dude in the occult? She remembered the gory stories she had heard from mum, the ones she had watched in “Nollywood movies”; they won’t let their wives in to their bedroom because of hidden concoction in some cupboard.
She began to palpitate and sweat profusely. What if all this money was “from rituals”? What if she is the next candidate for the “ritual”? When the reality of her thoughts dawned on her, she let out a stifled chuckle. “ How can I, Adaeze , a barrister at law , think such mundane thoughts “ ? She said to herself.
But the what-ifs will not let her think otherwise. Consequently, she decided that she was going to do the ridiculous. She was prepared for whatever will happen; her mind was made.
Adaeze Amucha was going into the lion’s den at midnight, and she will not tell a soul about it.
She heard Greg come in at half past nine. He had not come to her room in almost three weeks. She was too preoccupied with the potential “monster in his bedroom “ anyway, to be bothered about his elusive attitude.
She heard his steps towards his room and the banging of the door. Ada hissed, “spoilt brat!” she screamed out! Ah! And people will be out there admiring her; they will not know that she is co-tenant with Satan’s half brother! She thought of her parents and how excited her mum always got when daddy returned from work. As she recounted events, she drifted off to sleep.
About two hours later, Ada’s eyes popped open. “That nasty classic music tunes again”, she muttered. Looking up to the clock, she realized that the time was 11:45pm already, so she dragged herself out of bed and dressed for her entry into Greg’s room; No, nothing sensual, she chose to enter in, “commando style”. All kitted, and ready to go, she left the room, not looking or turning back, heading straight to Greg’s door, turned the knob and walked in.
Adaeze froze. Greg was sprawled on the floor, used needles and pipes on the table, white powder, crystals, vodka…ahhhh… She went on her knees after letting out a deafening scream! “ What the hell is going on here?” she yelled out at seriously stoned Greg.. These words appeared to have hit the wall and boomeranged … she could have sworn she heard a voice, retort, “ what the hell do you think? “
“Oh my God!” she sobbed. “Which kind of wahala have I gotten into”?
Written by Aunty B
Bo Adesoye is a Pharmacist turned Children’s Counselor and Educationist. She writes blogs on “issues of concern “ and runs the Auntyb Facebook page and a website auntybspeaks.com