Okon shrugged as he drank the last content of his glass. “What I will like to understand is how to deal with a nagging wife.”
The sun was already on its way home when Okon walked into Madam Obisco’s bar.
Three Wise Drunks
The bar is a frequently visited hotspot by the residents of Jeje Street and its environs. Jeje boasts of better infrastructure than other streets in the populated Gbadi area. The houses here are bigger bearing exquisite interior décor and spacious exteriors that served as parking garage and on special occasion, reception for parties, but as expected, they cost an arm and a leg. A mini flat there cost four times more than those in Odunlami Street. Most of the residents are either public servants or work in blue chip companies.
Okon’s Dilemma
The street was nothing like Podo street where Okon lived with his wife and mother-in-law in a one-bedroom apartment. Podo was notorious for crimes and very noisy with random kids parading in their ochre stained pants. The houses there are mostly public yards with rooms at parallels and doors directly opposite each other with a central, ever busy walkway. It was all Okon could afford after losing his job six months ago where he was a top manager in an American supermarket.
The company folded up after the controversial Presidential election that saw a massive exile of multinationals from the country.
Back then, his salary afforded him luxury like a two bedroom flat in the Government Residential Areas, a Mercedes Benz car and a string of girlfriends. However, he ditched his philandeering lifestyle when he met Mfon, a very beautiful light-skinned lady who worked at an Oil and Gas company. Mfon was the ideal lady for Okon. He had always wanted to settle down with someone of his calibre, not the jobless ladies who ran after him for his money.
He was further convinced that Mfon was a wife material when she denied him sex until he paid her dowry. Although it was a torturous moment for Okon, he secretly admired her resolve to delay the gratification.
But since he lost his job, Mfon had turned into a bitter leaf. She always nagged about his unemployment whilst overlooking her own state of joblessness; she seized every opportunity to ridicule him but only to turn around and beg for sex at night. Her sexual libido was something Okon could never in a lifetime match. She was a tiger in the bedroom and he seemingly was the sheep here. Not even pregnancy slowed her insatiable appetite. Since her mother's arrival a month ago, Okon had been at their mercy as they made his life a living hell.
On many nights, he was forced to sleep on the cold floor while they enjoyed the warmth of his king-size bed- the only valuable item he has.
But in Madam Obisco’s bar, Okon's sorrows fade into oblivion. Here, he could sip his ‘33’ lager in peace.
I am Not a Man
He was therefore very unhappy this evening when he arrived and saw that his favourite spot by the doorway was occupied by a burly man who appeared to be tipsy. The Harp beer bottle in the man's hand was dangling while his brown shirt was covered in his drool. Disgusted by his inebriated state, Okon was about to look elsewhere when the burly man lifted his gaze. Okon was moved by the look of defeat in the two black pupils that stared back at him. Impulsively, he walked towards the man.
“Is this seat occupied?”
“I don’t know," the man slurred. “You can seat on my lap if you want to.” Before Okon could utter another word, the man began to sob.
“I’m not a man!”
Confused on what to do, he gave him one of his expensive handkerchiefs.
“What is this? Tales by moonlight?” said a baritone voice.
Okon turned to the speaker and found a tall dark-looking handsome man in front of him. He estimated him to be in his late 40s. Without an invitation, the man grabbed a seat nearby and joined them.
“I never thought a day would come where I would see a grown-ass man cry.” He grabbed one of the waitresses walking past the table by her waist and planted her on his lap.
“What do you think of this Ejiro? A grown man crying in a bar.” He roared out in laughter.
The waitress noticing Okon’s angry looks and the pitiable man in tears quickly sprang to her feet.
“Oga Joe, I no get power for your play this night. Make I bring your usual?
“Yes,” he said without looking at her. His gaze was now fixed on Okon.
“What is wrong with him?”
Okon didn’t know if he should be irritated by his obnoxiousness or his feeble attempt at sympathy.
Again, the burly man surprised him by answering.
“I’m not a man.”
“Well, I don’t know about you but I am 100% man.”
“Is that the best sentence you could string right now?” Okon asked in an angry tone. He doesn’t like this man.
“What am I supposed to say? You should be thankful I got him talking.”
“He’s been saying same thing since I arrived.” Okon fired back.
“Well, good luck to both of you.” Joe brought out a pack of Benson and Hedges cigarette and a golden lighter from the breast pocket of his denim shirt.
“I don’t like smokers!” Okon said as Joe began to light the cigar.
“And I don’t like wimps either.” Joe retorted.
This was it. He can’t stomach his insolence anymore. He stood up to take his leave.
“Please don’t go.” said the burly man pleadingly as he held Okon’s hand. “There is no need to fight. Let’s drink and forget our sorrows. I will buy you a drink eh.”
“I’m not sharing a drink with this jerk here.”
“Suit yourself,” Joe puffed his cigar directly at Okon.
“Please my friend. Don’t be mad at him. For my sake, please stay!”
Reluctantly, he sat down. “Don’t worry, I will buy my own drink.”
Beat Her Up
For a while, the men drank in silence.
“My wife gave birth to a baby girl today.” the burly man finally spoke.
“Congratulations! That’s great news!”
“No, it’s not,” countered Joe.
Okon looked at Joe, baffled. Why is the birth of a child such a bad news? Unless the man was in similar situation like him, he saw no reason why he should be unhappy.
“He’s right. I’m not a man. How can I have only female children?”
“What is wrong with female children?”
“They are useless!” replied Joe.
Okon stared at both men unbelievably.
“Are you a father?” asked Joe.
“About to.”
“You will understand when your child is born. I pray it’s not a girl.”
“Amen” replied the burly man.
Okon shrugged as he drank the last content of his glass. “What I will like to understand is how to deal with a nagging wife.”
Joe rubbed his hands excitedly then grinned at Okon.
“Beat her up!”
It was the burly man's turn to look bewildered.
“You’ve never beaten your wife before?”
Both men shook their heads negatively.
“I’m in a bad company tonight,” he muttered. “Look, the only way to command respect in your home is to beat your wife up each time she oversteps her boundary. My wife Onome dare not talk back at me or question my late night comings. If not, she will see black and blue.”
“That’s abusive.” said Okon, turning to the other man, “Don’t you agree Mr…”
“Obidiegwu but you can call me Obi,”
“Ok Obi, do you agree with what Joe said?”
“Absolutely not. I love my Ugomma to the core even if she is yet to give me a male child…”
“Now you are talking,” interrupted Joe. “It is her fault that you don’t have a male child. Not yours.”
Okon, fed up with Joe’s warped ideas of masculinity, stood up. “I think I will call it a night.”
“So early?” asked Joe. “Let’s have another round.”
Before Okon and Obidiegwu could object, Joe had ordered extra bottles to be brought to the table.
Subsequent conversations steered towards politics. None of the men talked about their family issues again till they left the bar in their drunken state at 11pm.
Written by Vay Sylver.
Vay is a journalist and a writer. Nothing excites her more than great stories that inspire and capture the heart. She believes that the art of storytelling is life itself. She is also a feisty lover of arts, culture and lifestyle.