DRAMA ON SAVANNA STREET

People Jumping CHAPTER 2 

 

Mrs. Uzo’s sitting room is on fire. She and Mr. Uzo are tangled in physical combat. Angel stands crying by one side. Family portraits hang on the walls. After a few seconds of very rough fighting, Mrs. Eke rushes in with Suzie, sweating. She gets into the fight; trying to pull Mrs. Uzo away. She gets battered in her bid.

Paul Uzo Jr, eleven year old son of the Uzos stand to another side of the room, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Paul Uzo Jr, ten year old Jimmy and thirteen year old Goody, hang out together. It’s late in the evening, and in an abandoned building on the outskirts of Savanna Street.

Jimmy rolls up a piece of paper with grass in it, and gives Paul. Paul shakes his head. Jimmy shrugs, and gives the paper to Goody. Goody takes it. Jimmy begins to roll another one.

Back in Mrs. Uzo’s sitting room, there is some calm. She and Mrs. Eke are seated. Mrs. Uzo looks a bit beaten up but no serious damage. Her face is sweaty but no injury.

Mrs. Uzo hisses. “No more. No more.”

Mrs. Eke sighs. “What about your children?”

“What about them? Hmm.” Mrs. Uzo hisses. “Even Angel at six. She can take care of herself.”

“Oh! Mrs. Uzo, the kids need you both! What will a man do with three children?” Mrs. Eke says. “Consider, the effects…”

“What effects? Mma Pastor was saying the same thing. How it affects this and that! Has anyone considered how it affects me? Look at them—” She waves toward Suzie who is sobbing at the entrance of the sitting room. “They are all grown up.”

“No, Mrs. Uzo, this is the time these kids need you the most. How old is Suzie now, 15, 16? And Paul is 11 or what? No, please. For the sake of these…”

There is a loud knock on the front door and it opens without invitation. Middle-aged salon owner, and pastor’s wife fondly called Mma Pastor by everyone on the street, walks in.

Her brows are drawn together in worry. Mma Pastor walks to Mrs. Uzo. “Suzie left a message at the salon. Sorry I just came back from evening service.”

Mrs. Eke slaps her hands together. “Ha, Mma Pastor, thank God you’re here… Please talk to Mrs. Uzo o! She has to think about her children…”

Mrs. Uzo looks away and hisses. Mma Pastor shares looks between the two women. She sits next to Mrs. Uzo and drapes her hand over the other woman’s shoulders. “What happened again?”

Mrs. Uzo snaps. “What else, Mma? What else?”

Mma Pastor looks at Mrs. Eke for explanation. “Please what happened?”

Mrs. Eke sighs. “Suzie ran into my house saying I should come and help her parents. I returned to meet them in a wrestling match.”

Mma Pastor gasps. “Huh! Mrs. Uzo, you need to do something about this! At this stage in your life, neighbours should not be running in to settle your quarrels with…”

Mrs. Uzo nods. “It won’t happen again I assure you, Mma.”

Mrs. Eke groans. “She wants to pack out…”

Mma Pastor claps. “God forbid!”

Mrs. Eke shrugs. “My thought exactly.”

“It is not your portion in the name of Jesus. This mountain must be removed…”

“It has been removed already. The madman will never come back into this house again.” Mrs. Uzo leans back. “And if he does, I will leave for him.”

Mma Pastor clasps her hand over her mouth. “O Lord have mercy. This is the enemy at…”

“Please excuse me, I have a headache.” Mrs. Uzo stomps out of the sitting room and into another part of the house.

Her visitors gape after her.

Bukky, a sultry-looking woman in her early thirties is seated with Mrs. Eke in her bedroom, with lace materials on the bed. It’s late and Mrs. Eke checks the time.

Bukky picks a beautiful olive lace material. “I’m confused right now on what colour to pick. The colours are so beautiful.”

Mrs. Eke feels the material. “Hmm. These days people use bold colours. Have you thought of red?”

Bukky’s eyes widen. “Red! For aso-ebi? Wedding one?”

Mrs. Eke shrugs. “Yes. It will be lovely.”

Bukky shakes her head. “Ah, I think red is a bit harsh o.”

“That’s what you think. One day, someone will use black,” Mrs. Eke says.

Bukky laughs. “For wedding! Hey! Gina Eke.”

Mrs. Eke picks a baby blue lace and touches it tenderly. “I like the quality of this one but blues and greens are so common these days.”

Bukky smiles. “One of my friends called green with a hue of blue.”

They laugh. Just then, Mr. Eke walks in.

Mrs. Eke startles. “Welcome honey.”

Bukky bats her eyelids. “Hello sir. I asked after you.”

Mr. Eke looks at Bukky. “Oh, how are you? It’s been a while.”

Bukky shrugs. “I’m planning my wedding o. It’s been so hectic.”

Mr. Eke arches an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you’re getting married.”

Mrs. Eke nods. “At last my friend is getting married o.”

Bukky lifts her hands in the air. “God has answered prayers.”

Mr. Eke walks to the dresser and drops his laptop bag on the floor. He begins to pull off his shoes and tie and shirt and singlet and belt… The ladies get the message and quietly leave the room.

Far away in Akwa Ibom state, in the village of Ikot Urua, Ekpeyong, a man in his mid-fifties walk angrily out of his hut, chewing a stick in his mouth. His only clothing is an expensive ceremonial wrapper tied the traditional way. His wife, Ekaette who is about ten years younger than him, runs after him.

Ekaette sobs. “My husband, please, my lord. Don’t do this to me. Please ette mi, don’t do this to your family. I will get pregnant again.” She falls on her knees and grabs his feet. “If that is what you want, please. Don’t take another wife. One more chance, that’s all I ask. I beg you.”

Ekpenyong jerks free. “That’s enough, woman! Do you think I am alive to breed female children? Or I bought a wife only to make losses? You’ve had five already, three of them dead from diseases…”

Ekaette sniffs. “One more, ette mbok. He will not die. I beg you, just one more.”

“I will not stay here and listen to you.” He walks angrily toward the entrance of the hut. “Imoh! Imoh!”

Imoh shouts from within the hut. “Papa!”

Ekpenyong spits the stick out. “Bring my chieftaincy and walking stick.” He spits some more. “Quickly.”

Ekaette sobs loudly, and bends over on her knees. “Oh ette mi, ette o!

Imoh, a fifteen year old girl steps out with the items and hand them over to her father who dresses quickly and stomps away.

Imoh runs to her mother, and kneels beside her. “What is the matter, Mma? Where is he going?”

Ekaette sobs. “To negotiate for his new wife. Oh Imoh, your father wants to marry Mmayen, Etim’s daughter.”

Imoh screams. “God forbid!”

Ekaette sighs. “She’s only a few years older than your sister Koko. They say the oracles predict she will have eight sons for your father…”

Imoh gasps. “No, never! Oh Mma, this can’t be happening.”

Suzie is at the window where Angel normally stands. She looks out at the house where Betty stays, longingly though there’s no one in front of the house and no vehicle.

 

Photo: https://pixabay.com/en/silhouette-team-jumping-woman-1221445/

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SATURDAY ROSE THORNS – On The Days after that night

Days cover new pwg editionFolake Adeyeye: The days after that night got me seriously thinking oh. I found it hard to digest all the issues but was glad all turned out well in the end. May God help us all in this journey called life. Your work as a pastor’s wife shined through. Now I understand prior references to polygamy… Seeing you had done lots of research. Does your pastor Flo have any semblance to the Pastor Flo who counselled Dini. Great counsel by the way.

You know I had to stop reading (had read till late Saturday night and had church the next morning) at the point after the affair and before the counsel and was really disturbed … So when I got the chance to get back to it, it was good to read the counsel. Bottom line is I could hardly put the book down till the end and wondered how it would turn out. My kid’s commented on my serious look while reading. Hmm I also thought the affair with Oyinemi was too serious seeing he had a wife but I guess stuff happens! I enjoyed it but wasn’t quite prepared for the heavy stuff you had warned of us reading the back blurb. Well done and keep writing and portraying the gospel. Of all your books I have read and enjoyed so far, this one I think would have given those in such situations hopes of restoration and forgiveness with a loving God.

I especially liked he didn’t marry 2 wives, let it go and got a pleasant surprise in the end. Unfortunate Tonbra and her hubby had to die but I doubt there was any other way they could have gotten together. Don’t think Tonbra was a Christian in any true sense and pray she made amends with get maker before exiting this earth. I’m sure you are pleased I am analyzing the book cos it shows you’ve done a good work. Okay there ends my epistle and to work I must get…

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DRAMA ON SAVANNA STREET

People Jumping CHAPTER 1 

 

The traffic toward Bode Thomas is life-threatening. Some occasion is going on down the road.

Mrs. Amaka Uzo drives into her Savanna street, tense. It is her solace, clean, quiet, medium-income street. When she’s home, she thinks of peace. It’s most unlike her former street where the house is on the main road along Ojudu highway. Where when the traffic wakes, she wakes.

She knows the rent here is a little on the high side for her, but it is high-time she invests in something that gives a little peace. Though her stingy husband had, and continues to have an issue with it. Today, Saturday she just wants peace in her life.

Eight-year-old Angel stands by the window in what is obviously a room for children. The room has a bunk and a double. Clothes are scattered on the three unmade beds. Angel seems to be peeking through to somewhere she can’t really get a good view of. She turns and strains her neck, and stands on tip-toe. She improves her standing and continues to stare concentrating seriously on what she’s looking at.

Across the road, a black car is parked right in front of Betty’s bungalow, the house opposite the Uzos’. The car has tinted glass. Twenty-two year old Betty is seated beside a man almost double her age. He leans over to her, and flirts with a receptive Betty.

Angel continues to stretch her neck but she’s unable to see what is going on in the black car. There is noise from inside the house. Angel looks toward the sound of the noise. Two people having a physical combat. Mom is back, she thinks. Crashing sounds and things thrown here and there. Angry male and female voices. Angel marches out of the room, and slams the door behind her.

Down the street, Mrs. Tina Eke is dressed in her nightgown and with a housecoat. She sits in front of the TV but stares absentmindedly ahead, ignoring the movie on the screen. There is sound of a car driving into the compound. Mrs. Eke stiffens, glances at the wall clock, which says 11p.m. The front door opens and Mr. Eke walks in. He doesn’t greet his wife but goes to the bar area and pours a drink.

She speaks softly. “You didn’t say you’ll stay this long. I was worried.”

“Good evening to you too.” He downs his drink, drops his laptop bag. And exits into the house.

Tina Eke walks slowly to the bar area, picks the laptop bag, looks around. There is sadness in her face. She exits in the same direction with her husband.

Betty, dressed in a suggestive manner, stands in front of her mirror and assesses herself. She turns this and that way and sighs. Her phone rings. She picks it.

“Hello?” She exclaims in joy, and then pouts. “Honey.”

The caller is her newest catch, a dashing retired major, now business mogul, middle-aged man closer to triple her age than double.

“My love.”

“I’m not happy with you, Major.”

“What did I…”

“You travelled without me again…”

Major gasps. “But I’m back now!”

Betty looks at her wristwatch. “All the same.”

“You know I’ll make it up to you.”

A car horn blows from outside.

“Promise?” Betty goes to her window and looks out. The black car comes to a stop in front of her house.

Major grins. “It’s your call, Betty babe. Anything you want!”

Betty blows a noisy kiss. “My sweet love!”

The horn of the car sounds again.

Major smirks. “I can come right now. I’m hot for you!”

Betty hisses elaborately and calmly steps into her shoes. “Will your jealous wife release you at this time of the day? Is your bedtime not 8pm?”

Major guffaws. “Mrs. Thatcher travelled, my love. She won’t let go of the job so she’s got to lose on my side.”

Betty bursts into laughter and picks up her bag. She looks at herself in the mirror again. “You’ll take me somewhere for the night?” She looks round her room one more time.

“Anywhere, love.”

“I’ll just take a bath now…” She heads to her front door. “Give me one hour.”

“I have all night baby.”

“One hour, Major. I’ll meet you at the oriental?”

“Your call, babe. Same room.”

Betty exits her house and turns to lock the door. “One hour. Bye love.”

Major smiles. “I’ll be waiting… One hour.”

“I love you.” Betty hangs up, opens the door of the black car and puts her phone in her bag.

The driver, Mr. Ehis, kisses her cheek. He draws back and makes to start the ignition.

“Honey…” She bursts into tears.

He quickly turns back to her and grabs her. “Baby girl, what is the matter?”

She sniffs. “Your wife! Your wife is the matter.”

Ehis frowns. “My wife? How on earth is my wife the matter??

“She came here with boys. If not that neighbours came to my rescue…”

He swears. “My gahd! How did you know she was my wife?”

“They were going to burn the house down. She introduced herself!”

He mumbles. “Must have followed me here… S***!”

Tears slip down Betty’s cheeks. “I don’t want to go out tonight… I don’t want to do anything right now…”

“Baby please don’t punish me because of that foolish woman.” He huffs. “Oh my sweetheart…. I’ll deal with that woman tonight! Enough is enough!!!”

“I just didn’t want to upset you, that’s why I didn’t call for you not to come…” She pauses and swallows with wide, teary and innocent eyes. “I just want to spend a quiet evening at home.”

He shrugs. “That’s alright by me dear. I’ll stay with…”

“No. I think you should go home to be with her today… Really. I, your wife…”

“I’ll kill her, Betty, she has no right to harass you.”

“I just don’t want more trouble from her. I’m so upset…”

“I can just imagine the embarrassment…”

She inhales. “It was awful, it was so embarrassing…”

“I’m sorry dear. How do I make it up to you?”

“No. Don’t do anything…”

“Oh my darling.” He pulls her into his arms. “My darling. I must make it up… How about twenty thousand in your account to start.”

Betty shrugs. “No.”

“Then a weekend away will be next…”

She smiles but shakes her head.

“Then shopping spree.”

She laughs. He tweaks her nose. “I know you like that.”

He leans over to kiss her.

She comes down from the car, wiping her eyes and walks to her door. Mr. Ehis horns once and pulls away.

Betty waves half-heartedly and remains standing. “Stingy man.”

The car disappears into the darkness. She smiles. She walks back to the road, waits a bit and flags down a taxi.

“Oriental Hotel.”

The driver nods. She looks up and down the road once, and gets in with a smile on her face. The taxi pulls away.

Angel stands at the window of her room, and peeps. Her body is fully stretched, showing she’s totally engrossed. She stays there for a few seconds, turning her head at strange angles to depict her concentration.

The oldest of the Uzo children, sixteen-year-old Suzie, opens the door and for a moment frowns at Angel’s angled body against the window. She slams the door and Angel jumps, and turns round with a guilty look.

“What are you doing there? Mom has been calling you since!”

Angel shrugs. “And so?”

Suzie moves toward her. “Why did you move that table away from the window, silly girl?” She jerks Angel toward the door.

Angel struggles. “Leave me alone!”

“Mom is calling you to eat.”

Angel frees herself and runs to the door. Suzie lets her go. “Bye bye.” She mimics a naughty look and jerks the door open, runs out and slams it behind her.

Suzie looks curious and walks to the window. She pushes the table back to its space away from the window. She peeks out and stares for a while.

She exclaims. “Angel!”

 

Photo: https://pixabay.com/en/silhouette-team-jumping-woman-1221445/

TUESDAY ROSE BUSHES – INSECURITY 401

baboon-47367_1280The season got hotter, and so did my nerves. I was in deep trouble on this one. Once again, I had forgotten to log out of our joint email account.

Many of my friends had long stopped sending anything to my email. Not even birthday greetings. Emmy would frown and complain the email would be too full and we would lose it. Whatever that meant.

A little back story. I met Emmy at a fund-raising event where he was a special guest and I was an usher. He was a young, handsome guy representing his uncle, a commissioner, at the event. As perhaps the most beautiful of the ushers, I hate to brag, I was stationed at the high table and had the job of leading the dignitaries to their seats.

Emmy fixed his eyes on me at once. Several times, he called me for one silly thing or the other. He changed his drinks a couple of times, sent me with a note to one person or the other.

In the middle of the event, he requested for my number, and said he wasn’t making any donation till he got it. My relationship with him took on a roller-coaster afterward.

I thought he was the funniest guy on earth. He did many little things for me, and was so proud of taking me anywhere he went. I was a struggling student in the university up until I met Emmy. He worked as his uncle’s personal assistant, and usually made a lot of side-bucks, which he gladly shared with me.

I never saw his insecurities. He hid them so well. Yes, I know there were signs here and there. He once passworded my phone and I couldn’t use it for a couple of days. I never could understand why he did that. I was a naturally open person, and didn’t have any care in the world, but then Emmy would suggest I hid information about us from my family and friends.

Long story short, gradually, I became hooked on him. He complained he wanted to be with me all the time. He was so hung up on me, his uncle fired him from being PA and got him a more regular job.

I could see he gave a lot up for me. It meant nothing at first. Until I started having to give up stuff for him too. Hanging out with my friends competed with him. My family competed with him, my Instagram and whatsapp competed with him.

Oh wow, he left Facebook so we could use my account jointly and stopped using his yahoo email.

These all seemed so romantic. Except now he throws mad tantrums whenever I do things he didn’t like. Like forgetting to log off anytime I leave Facebook or the email, even if it’s ten times a day. He hates cold food too, and watching TV.

I had many male friends at the beginning of our 2-year relationship but now only Rosie hangs around sometimes, and she’s been asking me to move on. But how can I? I’m programmed to marry Emmy in a few weeks’ time!

 

I call this #baboon – insecurity spill. He’s coming. He will arrive one day, and you’ll be all alone. If he hasn’t chased your family yet, he eventually will. And he may never approve of you getting a job when if he lets you finish school. Oh, but what can you do? You want to marry him.

All the best in your love.

 

Photo: https://pixabay.com/en/baboon-mandrill-primate-monkey-ape-47367/

MONDAY CHOCOLATE MELTDOWN – #LEAH

LeahSometimes she pitied Rachel. Her beauty was her curse. Though Rachel was hard to love. She flaunted what she had in everyone’s face, and blamed all except herself for the things she didn’t have.

“Give me a son! Or I’ll die.” Leah had heard her scream at Jacob.

“Am I God?” Jacob yelled back.

They were sisters but only the blood in their veins connected them. Many times, Leah wanted to draw Rachel closer but the presence of Jacob between them hindered her. Oh maybe it was unfair to blame this on Jacob.

With Jacob’s exceeding wealth and such a large family, the maids had two sons each, and Rachel now finally had a son of her own, who now was Jacob’s favorite son, Leah tried to find a balance for her life. God had blessed her with two more sons too.

Rachel was pregnant again. But she had to be grateful. Her life may not be the perfection she craved, married to a man who loved her. This was what every woman wanted.

However, when she looked at Rachel, who had married the man who loved her, what gain was there?

It no longer mattered whether she was hated or not. She was the matriarch. The first wife. She had more sons than her husband’s other wife, and concubines, and God crowned her with a beautiful daughter. What more could one desire?

A loving husband, or a useful husband?

He attended to her. Satisfied her. Provided for her. And over the years, he’d come to respect her. What more did she want?

If she had to choose a loving Jacob, and the one she had now, would she not choose the one she had? Rachel’s life wasn’t much better than hers. She just had to live with it.

 

Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/chocolate-coconut-dessert-delicious-1370177/