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Naughty wife’s diary: I got entertained

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I refused to let Jimmy know when I would be springing the surprise on him. If I told him, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Would it?

I planned it to be sizzling. To blow his mind to smithereens. With that, our marriage could be strengthened beyond possible damage. I just hope so. With the stories I hear nowadays, married people seem like endangered species. Marriages broke everyday over flimsy or gory reasons. Imagine a seventy-something-year-old man slaughtering his sixty-year-old wife while she slept and he claimed she was cheating on him.

Wives gather to tell scary tales of how desperate girls out there hunt down married men. You are advised to hold tight to your husband lest he fall victim of these wicked daughters of Eve. How does one hold down a man who doesn’t want to be held down? In fact it seems that it is all your fault if your husband slipped through your fingers.

And for a woman who is yet to give her husband a child, her job seems more tortuous. Every day she faces her husband without a child and every day they are invited to a naming ceremony, her self-esteem ebbs.

I do not just want to give my husband a child just for my sake. No, I love him too much not to want to make him happy by making him a father. I want to watch him play with his children and proudly show-off among his peers. But, this is not within my power. All I need is a miracle and enough cash for IVFs.

This Friday, I almost slipped into depression. I couldn’t bare just my own company any longer. so, I decided to check on my friend, Cynthia.

“How was the surprise quickie with your husband? Did it go as planned? Come, tell me everything at once,” was what Cynthia greeted me with as soon as she opened the door.

I waved her aside. “Not yet.” One of my legs was already inside her door when I noticed something white coming in through the main gate. It was an oyibo man. And he doesn’t look happy. His face was so red and the way he stomped towards me indicated he was really pissed.

I entered Cynthia’s flat and shut the door. ‘Who was that oyibo man?’ I asked her.

‘My neighbour’s boyfriend o,’ she replied. ‘She is single and dates men for a living.’

‘A runz girl?’

Cynthia shrugged. ‘Yes o. since she met this oyibo man, she has been complaining that the man is not dropping dollars like other oyibos do.’

‘Maybe he is not well-paid. Or he is simply prudent.’

‘I think he wants to marry her. But the babe is not ready to marry him o.’

‘Poor man, he doesn’t know he is with the wrong kind of girl.’

‘Why else do girls here date oyibo men? Just for foreign exchange sake o.’ Cynthia flopped on her cushion chair and waved for me to sit beside her, but shot to her feet when we heard commotion outside.

We rushed to her door and threw it open. It was the oyibo man quarrelling, no, fighting with his girlfriend. A pretty girl that looked like something you see only on TV. She was of average height, chocolate coloured and with this killer shape that must be driving men and women crazy. She wasn’t helping matters with the tiny shorts she wore and a cropped top that exhibited a perfect flat stomach.

‘Give me my money,’ the oyibo boyfriend was shouting, his shirt was torn in several places. ‘I know you took it.’

‘So?’ his girlfriend shouted back. ‘Since you refused to give me money, I took it by force. Please go away. I am no longer interested in the relationship.’

‘Not without my money.’ The guy’s accent is even funny. The only place you hear oyibo people speak well is on TV. Face-to-face, they sound funny. I was feeling sorry for this fine ajebutter oyibo. How did he meet this leopard of a girl?

‘I have spent it,’ she screamed at him and pushed him, pushing him towards the gate. He refused to budge o. When she got tired of pushing him, she ran back into her flat and shut the door in his face. He began to bang on the door. He banged for a long time until she opened it and he went inside and the quarrelling continued.

Me and Cynthia returned to her flat and laughed our self to stupor. Wetin person no go see for this Abuja?

‘The guy should forget that money. That girl is not giving him back a dime,’ I told Cynthia.

Cynthia hissed. ‘That serves him right. He is too stingy. According to his girlfriend, he is aka gum.’

‘Did he come to Nigeria to work for her?’

‘Then he should zip up and wait until her gets back to his country if he doesn’t want to spend for the girls. He didn’t even go for average or ugly ones but the finest of the finest runz girl.’

‘Did she tell him she was a runz girl?’

‘Well, hard luck for him. Abeg what are you drinking? And better tell me why you haven’t sprung the surprise on your husband.’

We changed the topic. By now, I had forgotten about my troubles. I was seriously being entertained. ‘I need to re-plan. Apart from the office, where else can I give him a surprise quickie away from home?’

Cynthia scuffed. ‘Your husband hardly goes anywhere else apart from work. Where else can you bump on him? If it where my husband that crawl all over town, I might suggest one or two places.’

‘Maybe I should lure him to a hotel,’ I mused. ‘No, we have done hotel recently.’

‘What about church?’ Cynthia suggested and we burst into laughter.

‘You want to send me to hell abi?’

‘But he is your husband, you guys are not sinning.’

‘Just shut up. I think I will stick to doing it in his office.’

We agreed I should do it in the office. So, by next week, I am springing the surprise on Jimmy in his office…

 

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