Donigspain - S01 E81

Story 2 years ago

Donigspain - S01 E81

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 81

I got to the room with my hear

beating faster than normal. That

would be my first close contact

with a corpse that had left the

mortuary. There inside the dark,

cold and lonely room I set to

work. But first I murmured a few

open ended dialogue with the

corpse.

“You know it’s me Spain – your

grandson. I’ve come to make

sure you looked beautiful and

well kept until after you’re

committed to final rest. I believe

you won’t hurt your beloved.”

This I said in a few seconds

before I mounted the stool I had

carried along with me for the

job.

It took me about thirty minutes

before i fixed the electricity and

set the fan blowing directly on

her. I took a good look at her

before I left the room. My uncles

and aunts all expressed surprise

at the brave man I had become.

Ifeoma was feeding my elder

sister’s baby when I saw her. She

seemed to have worked her way

into everyone’s heart. It was

more a competition who she’ll be

attending to. Her name was

virtually on everyone’s lips. All I

kept hearing for the few minutes

i sat with them was “nne, come

and bring garri for me”; “eh

nwanyi oma, biko test that soup

whether the salt is enough” and

many others.

I smiled with each mention of

her name. It was as if I had made

the right choice. You know that

feeling when you bring a girl

home and everybody seems to

like her. It was only my dad that

was oblivion of what was going

on. He was preoccupied with

settling all traditional rites

necessary for a successful burial.

Anyways, I cared less of what his

reaction would be since it

seemed my mum liked ifeoma.

One thing i’ve grown to

understand is that the easiest,

fastest and surest way to get my

dad’s approval on any issue is to

have my mum on your side.

Sometimes, I wonder if she’s my

dad’s brain box except for a few

times when my dad would

blindly stick to his opinion even if

he’s obviously on the wrong

path. This usually happens if he

feels his ego and position as the

man of the house is threatened.

At those times, it will be better

for him to encounter loss as a

result of his decision than for

him to buy your opinion.

We later returned to my dad’s

house to prepare for the wake

keep. My mum called us out as

soon as we climbed the stairs to

my dad’s veranda.

“Spain, you will be sleeping in

your room with some of the

guests in case you want to sleep

and Ifeoma will be sleeping in my

room with your elder sister. Do

you understand?” My mum

instructed sternly. I knew it! I

knew we still had much to

discuss. My mum cannot just let

us go back without some serious

discussion. I was even not too

comfortable with her closeness

to Ifeoma. I had wondered if

she’s no longer my morally strict,

evil non-tolerating, godly mother.

In fact, I could not have rest of

mind until she had said

something to me about my

action. She can’t possibly be

acting all lovey-dovey for nothing.

It’s either she’s pretending as to

not embarrass you or she’s

actually studying you.

We returned to the wake keep

venue to meet the place already

lively. The live band group was

dishing out various christian

tracks. People had already started

converging. I took my position at

a corner with little light coverage.

I needed a place where I can

easily steal some kisses

unnoticed. The presence of too

many people and activities had

created little space for us to be

together alone. I wasn’t longing

for sex. No. Not under my

father’s roof. But a few kisses

under the mango tree won’t be a

bad idea.

Anyways, I was determined to

get a little compensation and that

accounted for my seat choice. I

noticed one of my village

girlfriends parading all about.

She was obviously trying to get

my attention but the presence of

Ifeoma was not helping matters.

After about an hour of christian

songs the band switched over to

‘Ghana’ music. For the first time

in our relationship I saw Ifeoma

went into this unexplainable

frenzy. She began displaying

some crazy dance steps with

such expertise. She totally took

over a new personality. She was

dancing and twisting her waist

in such a way that would make

Shakira and Beyonce convulse in

envy.

Our first daughter (Ada) and my

immediate elder sister came and

dragged her into the main open

space where many people had

already turned to a dance floor. It

was such a good sight watching

my two sisters (all married then)

and Ifeoma try to beat each

other in dance moves. I was

watching the beautiful display

when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around, lo and behold it

was Nkechi – my village girlfriend.

“Spain, so you came back and

never bothered to see me eh? If

not for your dad who saw me

and asked if I knew you

returned, maybe it’s because of

the little girl I heard you came

back with,” Nkechi said as if I

owed her any explanation. The

one thing that caught my

hearing was her calling my dad

and the role he played. She’s

fond of bringing my dad into our

every discussion. Always trying to

make it seem like she’s the

chosen one for me and my dad

ain’t making it any less

confusing. He would always drop

one or two comments for her

that seem to convey a subtle ‘my

future daughter-in-law’ message.

I was still calculating how and

what to reply her when I saw

Ifeoma walking towards us in

what seem like a rage… chai, omo

see gobe!