SHOULD I ATTACK
This time, I won’t rush inside, I can’t come and fall inside the drainage the second time. My village people can’t succeed.
Neither am I going to rush to him and the girls, two are stronger than one. I must get it right today.
I decided to concentrate on my footsteps and the door. I know myself, if I keep staring at them, that monster husband will draw me like magnet, I might end up breaking that bottle on his stubborn head.
As I walked past them, I heard them laughing…. trouble is sleeping, foolishness wants to wake it.
I won’t respond, with trembling hands, I open the door and my trembling feet dragged me inside. I dropped my bag and notepad on the floor not too far from the main entrance, I stood there confused as to what to do exactly but later went straight to my room. The guest room.
This is the time to strategize, I didn’t fall into the drainage, I didn’t stumble or fall. Now I can plan my next move to teach these people that my house is my territory.
I can go into the kitchen and boil hot water, that will not take long. I’ll just go upstairs and through the window pour it over them. I can already see their scrabbling for safety like rabbits. Quickly I went to the kitchen to boil water.
While I waited for the water to boil, it occurred to me that if the water falls on sensitive parts, or if they run to the main road and die, I will end up in prison. Why should I go to prison over another person’s wickedness?
Now I need a different plan, eerrmmm, what can I do now, I need to make it so savage that everyone who hears it would know that you don’t mess with a woman like me.
Yeah, I can pour yam flour on them. That would make a statement. It won’t kill them, but everywhere they go, they will carry the stain. So, I brought out the yam flour. And ensured it was in a bucket that would make it easy to offload the contents on their head.
I must get this right. I can’t make another mistake or blunder. I can’t mistakenly pour it on myself or be too slow and I need evidence.
I decided to go to my room, get the phone and record the flour pouring session. I’ll upload it to the internet and ensure bloggers pick it up. This is a show down today.
Joy had been toyed with and made a laughing stock. Today the table turns and I take charge. Today I won’t be irrational. I will be meticulous.
On my way to my room, I saw my bag and notepad on the floor, as I picked it, I saw what I jotted down.
MY NEW RESOLUTION
• Be blind
• Be dumb
• Be abnormally normal
• Pour so much love
Does the yam flour pouring expedition fall into any of these four points? No! no!! no!!! I can’t allow these points to stop me today.
I threw the notepad away. I ran into my room, banging the bed. No! no!! no!!!. I need to do something.
Aaarghhhh!!! Why must things be so complicated?
These girls and this man can’t go Scott free. They can’t escape. I need to prove to them that I am the queen of this territory.
Hmmmm, I am the queen, queens are dignified people. Queen don’t fight.
All the group members in the marital discipleship can’t hear that I fought. Baba Jay will be disappointed too.
OH Jesus, please help me. What should I do?
Just then the perfect plan dropped into my heart, wow, this is ingenious.
This will make a statement at the same time deal seriously with these girls. This will break his ego and it’s an abnormal reaction.
OH THIS MY HUSBAND
Once again, I picked up my notepad with shaky hands. I studied what we were taught that day. This is going to be the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life.
I ran out of my room to peep through the window, I can see that my husband and the two ladies were still laughing and drinking.
I ran to the kitchen; the water is now boiling. Oops, I ran back into the room to change from my work dress to my simple gown.
I ran back to the kitchen, brought out all the arsenals I needed for this century attack, placed them on the kitchen table, took the turning stick, poured the yam flour into the hot boiling water and prepared a sumptuous amala meal.
I dashed to the fridge, brought out the very delicious vegetable stew I prepared last week before my husband’s trouble landed me in the hospital. I microwaved it and served it into one of the designers’ plates in the kitchen used for special occasions.
I placed this sumptuous meal into a tray with a very cold juice beside it.
Oh, I forgot I have cow tongue inside the freezer. Already cooked. I rushed to pick it and also microwaved it. Now my assault is almost done.
I was sweating seriously but it’s getting dark. I needed to move fast. I ran into my room almost tripping on the chairs in the living room.
I rushed into bathroom, used towel to clean my face. Applied enough perfume and where did I put that my lacy red gown?
Yes, I found it in the second wardrobe. I put it on with my red flat shoes. Applied more perfume. I almost choke from the scent of my perfume.
I ran back into the kitchen, picked up my meal and walk to the door. At the door, my heart was beating. Anyone close to me can hear my heart pumping.
Oooh, I need these hands to stop shaking, aaah, my legs have joined in the shaking. I can’t go back. I must finish this one.
I opened the door and with a smile on my face (a very fake smile), I walked steadily but with grace towards my husband and his guests.
As soon as they spotted me, all discussions stopped. Yeah, Yeah, a queen is coming I thought in my heart.
I wish I can describe the look on their faces. My husband was looking as if he saw his late grannies ghost dancing right in front of him.
The first lady closest to me stood up. The speed at which she stood up, you would think an army had pointed gun at her.
The second lady had really big eyes and they were open 100%, I was afraid her eyes will pump out of the sockets.
Taking in all I see before me, I walked gracefully to them.
I said to the girls “hello pretty ladies”.
No reply, lols
I placed the meal before my husband, I said to him,
“Hi honey, you can’t drink beer on an empty stomach”
No reply, just stares.
I turned back, and wanted to walk back inside but changed my mind and just walk into the street and off from the house.
When I knew they couldn’t see me again, I rested on a stationed car and caught my breath.
I was sweating, my heart was trying to jump out of my mouth. The hands and legs were vibrating.
I screamed. Oh yeah…..
Everyone around gave me a funny look, I smiled at them. Turned back and went back home.
There was no sign of my husband, the girls, the table, the chairs, my food, or his car.
They’ve all disappeared within five minutes. Wow!!!
No man or girlfriend can mess with a tactically crazy wife.
I entered the house and went straight to bed. Victory is so sweet. I don’t feel like eating.
As I was about to lie down, I noticed my phone was ringing. I checked the phone.
I started laughing, oh how good when your number one enemy is calling you.
The call was from my husband…..
I looked at my phone ringing. I smiled wickedly.
What will I say now? For a long time, we’ve not had any sensible discussion on phone, so why is he suddenly calling me now?
Should I pick this call?
No, I’m not picking it, let him suffer, let him be confused. The bible says let all that rise up against me be confounded.
After he called three times and I didn’t pick up. I got a text from him which read thus:
What nonsense did you just do? Making me a laughing stock to everyone. Disgraceful stunt. Oh ok. Strike one. You do your own, I’ll do mine.
I just laughed, I have always been the one calling him, he used to be the one cutting my calls. Then I’ll send him abusive text messages.
He used to tell me I was immature. Now who is immature?
Baba Jay and Pastor, thank you very much. Nice lessons.
I picked up my phone and I typed my reply. “Oga, I thought you said I am the monopoly of immaturity, check you text again. Yeah strike one”
I was about to send the text when I saw my notepad again. Awwh, this text failed all the criteria.
It’s not blind.
It’s not abnormal.
Has no love in it.
It’s not dumb.
It occurred to me that if I take the first letter of every point BLIND, ABNORMAL, LOVE, DUMB = BALD
So, my text must be bald. I picked my phone and changed my message.
“Hope the food was manageable? Sorry I didn’t have time to really cook. Please always tell me when we are having guest so I can prepare well”.
Now that message complies with my new found motor. Bald…. toriperi stories
I sent the message, as I was getting delivery notification, I was also getting my husband’s reply.
Wow I have become a celeb, my husband’s phone is permanently open to my message and he is replying fast.
If I had known these points all along, I won’t have been the only one suffering.
His reply reads “”you think this is a game to you, you are now mad”.
I burst into laughter, he is angry and don’t know what to write. This is going to be my best night in months.
But I couldn’t sleep, he was not back and I know when he is angry, he drives like a maniac. I just hope he won’t be involved in auto-crash before I even start my bald treatment for him.
At 12:55am his majesty stumbled in, drunk to stupor.
I can’t sleep, I can’t practice my Bald treatment on a drunk, he didn’t even appreciate the fact that I didn’t pour hot water on him.
His phone was by his side, he had always used passwords for every application.
Just as I was about to leave him, a call came into his phone. I picked it quickly.
The caller said “hello my sugar, my love, my desire”.
It was a female voice.
Ahhh, what nonsense. I replied her…..
May your sugar turn charcoal. May your love turn to sorrow. May your desire turn into a psychiatric patient, you this useless excuse of a human being…….. let me stop here, the other words I used can’t be read by the holy eyes. But just imagine……
I was still vibrating on the phone, abusing the caller…..
It never occurred to me that the girl had cut the phone.
It never occurred to me that I was screaming.
Or that my scream woke up my drunk husband.
The next thing I felt was woosh!!!!!
I saw stars then I blanked out.
This monster just slapped me.
This good for nothing drunk just slapped me…..
Abeg, forget blind or dumb, this one is feeling.
I went straight to the kitchen…..
What can I use to teach this man a lesson?………
OH THIS MY HUSBAND
I went straight to the kitchen….
What can I use to teach this man a lesson?…
Yes, there you are…. the knife. I grabbed the knife, at this stage, I was passed reasoning.
No man will subject me to physical abuse. I will prove to him that I grew up on the streets too. I’m not a lady you beat and go free.
With the knife in hand, I matched straight to the living room. He was fast asleep again. Snoring heavily.
I can’t stab a sleeping man. I will wait for him to wake up. With knife in hand, I walked straight to my room.
As if intentionally planted there, the first thing I noticed was my notepad. I rushed for the notepad and threw it under the bed. I don’t want to see it.
Nothing will change my mind this time. Nothing. No one. No lecture. He can’t slap me and go free.
I placed the knife under my pillow. I was about to sleep when I got the text from Pastor’s wife.
God bless you ma. We forgot to tell you that tomorrow is our old disciple’s meeting. Please if you can join us, it will be nice.
If only my husband had not slapped me, I would have had a good perfect wife story to tell tomorrow. Now he has ruined everything.
It’s 2am. I can’t sleep, I decided to make tea. As I was making tea, I was lost in thoughts. I poured too much water and it became watery.
It occurred to me again, if I can pour so much love into this marriage, maybe by some chance I might be able to bring my marriage to my Pastor’s level.
I left the kitchen for the living room. He was still snoring. Half on the chair, half on the floor. I sighed….
Lifted him off the floor fully into the chair. Removed his shoes and smelly socks. Why do men socks smell so bad?
His phone fell out. I felt like smashing that phone, but I resisted the urge.
I put the phone in his pocket and I looked for one of my wrappers to cover him. I intentionally used my wrapper so he can know for sure I covered him.
I went upstairs to the master bedroom and arrange his bed.
I selected the clothes he will wear to office the next day and I placed the alarm next to him. To wake him up by 6:30am.
Finally, at almost 4am, I got tired enough to sleep. I slept off.
I woke up to the feeling that someone was staring at me. My elbow covered my face so one can know if I was awake or not.
Standing at the door of my room was my husband, in the clothes I selected for him, hands in pocket. Staring at me.
Confusion written boldly on his face. How I love that look.
Oops, Strike two…….