Six months after Nkili's shocking meeting with her husband, life is forging ahead...enjoy a sequel below.
‘Where did you go yesterday?’
Nkili blinked her eyes open to find Osita’s contorted face staring into hers. It was a Saturday, and he had taken the day off.
‘Good morning’, Nkili replied, swinging her legs off the bed. She didn’t like the domineering streak in his voice.
Osita wiped the frown off his face. ‘Morning…I called the landline several times yesterday but you weren’t picking.’
Nkili was irritated by the way he tried to keep a leash on her. He called the house every four hours to make sure she was at home, and if she wasn’t he would explode.
She slipped into her bathrobe then replied offhandedly. ‘That’s because I went out.’
The dictatorial edge returned to Osita’s voice. ‘Where did you go?’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Because I’m your husband and I have a right to know your whereabouts.’
Nkili hung her head exasperatedly. They barely saw each other and when they did they spent the whole time bickering.
She stuck a hand on her hip. ‘The fact we’re married doesn’t mean I can’t have a life outside the four corners of this house. But if you must know I went out with Kay.’
Nkili grabbed her soap bag and headed for the bathroom without a word. Osita followed her, stopping outside the door. He scrolled through his phone contacts, dialled a number and then pressed the loud speaker. ‘Hello’ a voice answered. It was Kay. After the initial pleasantries Osita lied that Nkili had lost her purse while they were out, and he was just calling to find out if she had picked it. ‘I’m sorry to hear that’, Kay empathised. She advised that Nkili should check the internet café they visited. Osita was pleased Nkili was not cheating on him, at least as far as he knew. Whenever Nkili was out of his sight he worried about her running off with a younger, better looking man. She was so young and terrifically beautiful, turning heads wherever she went. Besides she was fiercely independent and ambitious. That scared him even more than her beauty.
‘Satisfied?’ Nkili’s head popped around the door.
‘I’m sorry,’ Osita said sincerely.
Nkili threw one of her mocking half-laughter half coughs at him. ‘I’m sorry that you’re sorry because you’re always sorry about being sorry.’
Osita choked with laughter. ‘You’ve come again this girl!’
He returned to the sitting room and put on his favourite DVD – scantily dressed Congolese girls dancing to Makossa music. He loved the way they gyrated their hips provocatively. Nkili didn’t like the video. Neither did she like the portraits of nude women on the wall – which she kept taking down, or the nude wallpaper on his mobile phone. She said it made him look like a dirty old man.
‘You and your slutty women’, Nkili said when she came into the sitting room briefly.
‘I cannot see anything slutty about them; they are the handiwork of God,’ Osita retorted.
‘Tell me about it.’
‘By the way we’re going shopping today.’
Nkili swept back into the bathroom wordlessly. It annoyed her he wouldn’t let her go shopping on her own. Osita lowered the volume of his music set. He listened intently. Immediately he heard water splashing onto the bathtub he tip-toed into the room. He whipped Nkili’s brown suitcase on to the bed and began to unzip it quietly all the while listening carefully in case Nkili opened the bathroom door unexpectedly. He flung the suitcase open then proceeded to pick out its contents, shaking each item vigorously before returning it. He searched the different compartments of the suitcase, zipping and unzipping until finally he pulled out a packet containing two rows of tiny round pills. He pushed it into his left pocket, then extracted a packet looking exactly the same from his right pocket and replaced it. He straightened up briefly, looked up to the ceiling and made the sign of the cross. Then quickly he tidied the contents of Nkili’s suitcase. While tidying he stumbled upon the picture of a cinnamon-complexioned handsome young man. Looking at the picture made him burn with jealousy. It also deepened his sense of insecurity. He was tempted to confront Nkili, but he couldn’t without giving away the fact he had searched her suitcase. Instead he suppressed his smouldering feelings and returned to his Makossa music video.