Sacrilege - Season 1 - Episode 6

4 years ago

Sacrilege - Season 1 - Episode 6

His father ignored him. “If you get married at the age if thirty five, you’ll be training children in school with grey hairs on your head.”

Chris frowned. “Why do you make me seem so old. I am just thirty, not thirty five”
“And if we leave you alone, we would be having this conversation when you are forty.” Chris’ mother cut in. “I need to see my grandchildren before I die, ehn? Chris nwa m” she stared dead at him as she emerged from the kitchen with the white China dish which obviously contained the edikaikong soup he had been so eager to eat. But now, he almost lost his appetite altogether.
Chris groaned in frustration. “Why do you always bring up talks about death?”
“Because death is an integral part of our existence”

“Then maybe I would get married when I am eighty, that way, you would live long” he raised his brow. “Since all you are living for is your unborn grandchildren”
“Well, we are not going to let that happen” Mrs Anayo grinned gently.
“There is not much you can do about it, is there?”

Mrs Anayo picked up the serving spoon and started dishing the soup onto the plates, assuming an innocent look. Mr Anayo wasted no time as he rinsed his hand and dug into his food with vigor. Something smelt fishy and it was not the soup, as Chris watched their dramatic display. “Is there?” he asked again, not understanding what was going on. The food in his plate was left untouched as his mouth lost all semblance of appetite. If only he didn’t know his parents so well…

Mr Anayo licked his fingers noisily after three swallows. “uhmmmm” he m0aned as his hand dug into the hot pounded yam again. “Baby, your soup is the reason I have sweet dreams, this is so delicious”

Ada mooned over. “Thank you, Nnayi” she batted her eye with a proud smile on her face.
Chris rolled his eye so much, he was sure he saw his eye sockets. His stomach grumbled and he blamed it on the way his father dug into his food ferociously. Reluctantly, he washed his hand and took his first swallow. His father wasn’t exaggerating, as always, his mother had outdone herself. His tummy opened up as he ate away.

“Nnayi, when did your friend say Tricia would arrive Nigeria?” Mrs Anayo asked conversationally.

“Huh… Should be next week” Mr Anayo murmured as he chewed on a succulent stock fish.

“Do you hear that, Chris? Next week” Mrs Anayo quipped.

Chris’ hand hung, suspended above the pounded yam. “What has that got to do with me?”

“Everything. Everything, my son” Mrs Anayo smiled coyly at Chris. “Tricia is Mr Livinus’ daughter and we have been discussing your marriage with her. You see, Tricia is a veeery fine girl now. You won’t believe it is the same girl that runs about her father’s compound in pant”

“It’s true, son. You only need to see her picture, she is finer than Barbie” he grinned openly.

Chris stared at the grinning face of the older man in bewilderment, not understanding what could be funny. “You are joking, right?” sure he was!
“Do I look like Basketmouth to you? I am dead serious. We just cut your endless search for Miss perfect, Tricia is perfection, you’d thank me when you see her”
“Oh well, you just wasted your time because I am not getting married” Chris washed his hands furiously, the food has definitely lost its seasoning. “I don’t have time for this” he muttered, pushing to his feet.

“Sit down there, Chris” his father ordered.
“Dad. I am not a kid, you can’t source for a wife for me. I would get married to who I want, when I want and on my terms. I’m not about hiting menopause, so you have nothing to worry about”

“But you are about hitting womenopause, Chris.”

Chris sighed and turned. “Good night, dad… Mum”

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