The Sword called Divorce (Episode 4)

                                              

“You need to stop eavesdropping, Marie.” Nike side stepped the question. “It’s a bad habit. If we wanted you to hear, we’d have invited you to join our discussion.”

                “And you need to leave me alone.” Marie’s voice was hard as she spoke. “Everyone in this world is a disappointment. All of you.”

                Nike’s first instinct was to give her daughter a good thrashing and teach her who was boss. But then again; she knew her daughter was going through a lot which she wouldn’t pretend to understand, because she’d after all never had to go through a divorce before. Her parents had stayed married till her mother died.

                Suddenly Nike felt helpless. She knew she was losing her daughter and she didn’t know what to do about it.

                “I want to help, Marie. Please don’t hurt me anymore than I’m hurting. Can’t you see I’m trying? I love you but please don’t stretch me to my limit.”

                “Where’s daddy?”

                “You know where he is. At work.”

                “He comes home later than usual these days.” Marie was now sitting up, staring daggers at her mother. “Did you tell him to?”

                Nike didn’t know what came over her at that moment. Maybe she was tired of playing devil’s advocate or being seen as the enemy or maybe it was the pressure of seeing Izie again and the pent up feelings she’d been holding back, but suddenly she didn’t care. She screamed:

                “Your father cheated on me! He had an affair with Izie, don’t you understand?!! How can you still take his side when you know all this?!! He broke our marriage vows; he betrayed you and Bella and me! For God’s sake Marie, the divorce is going to happen, so you might as well accept it now and begin to deal with it! This family is over!! You hear me? Over! Now, get off that bed and take off your uniform, we’re going to the market.”

                As soon as the words left her mouth, Nike regretted it. But she was still boiling with anger that she didn’t bother to explain herself. She marched out of the room, trembling.

               

                This time the tears didn’t come. For Mari;  it was just dawning on her that there was no hope for her family. Her mother’s words had proven that.

                Over. It’s over. The Babalolas were no more. The words echoed  in her head for the rest of that day.

                If the relationship between her and her mother had been strained before; now it was worse. They barely spoke to each other and this time it was the way they both wanted it.

                Nike couldn’t talk to her daughter because she was still ashamed of the words she’d said to her that day and each time she opened her mouth to try to connect with Marie again, the accusing look in her eyes was enough to put her off.

                Marie, on the other hand was still smarting from her mother’s outburst and each time she glanced at her, she saw the guilt written plainly on her face.

                Joe Babalola had escaped the strain in his home by going to work every day and being the last to report to bed. He couldn’t bear the thought of what his family had become.

                Every time he thought of the Izie saga; he went red with shame. How had it all started? When had Izie stopped being merely his wife’s pet and become a woman to him? When had the cordial relationship which existed between them suddenly transformed into something romantic?

                When had he suddenly decided to exchange his fifteen year marriage with one night of pleasure with a lady ten years younger?

                And each time he asked himself these questions, he knew the answer. The Bible had made it clear: As a man thinks in his heart; so is he.

                It had begun with the several lunches. Nike had asked Izie to help take lunch to him at the office every day. It was a small thing which Izie was glad to do. She’d been unemployed then and eager to work, so she’d agreed to run the errands for Nike.

                Her gestures had been pure and innocent, Joe was sure of that. So when had it changed?

                Was it the moment they’d shared that brief hug in his office when she’d been so sad and worried about her family? Had he, in his bid to comfort her, overstepped his bounds?

                As he drove home that night, Joe kept searching himself…did he deserve Nike’s forgiveness?   

                And just as he pulled over on the curb to buy suya, his eyes fell on a familiar form that was sitting on the park bench; her form illuminated by the streetlight above her. 

                Even though he’d known her for only six months; Joe would know that body anywhere.

                It was Izie.          

                                (To be continued…)