DIARY OF A TYPICAL NAIJA HOUSEWIFE. VOL. 3

POVERTY.

Something crawls up her leg. It is still dark but as she slaps it, she feels that familiar scratchy feeling. A cockroach. “Wetin sef?”, she mutters as she picks up her slipper and starts to hit the ground beside her. Her activity wakes the son lying closest to her. He furiously yanks off his earphones as he grumbles, “Mama na wetin sef, na everyday cockroach dey climb your body?” She apologizes and he mumbles on till he returns to sleep. She decides to abandon her search for the cockroach till later as she becomes aware of the loud hum of her neighbor’s ‘I better pass’ electricity generator. There is no electricity, and the room begins to feel claustrophobic in its stuffiness. Irritated by the generator’s constant low hum, once again she wonders what her neighbor does for a living in order to afford constant power this way. He had moved in a few months back and his generator is on all the time. Everyone in the compound has concluded that he must be 419 or “yahoo-yahoo”. He has petrol to burn all day and night while others groan under the sudden hardship of N141 per litre for “deregulated” fuel. She decides to leave all thieves to God and she checks the clock as she walks out of the room scratching her back. Its a quarter past four in the morning. She is glad to see her husband undisturbed by the noise, asleep in his corner, away from her and the children. She is usually careful not to disturb him as he could wake and unceremoniously kick them all out into the corridor.

Making her way through the darkness, she heads to the backyard where the communal bathroom is. She bathes and dresses as she makes mental calculations for the coming day. In anticipation of the NLC strike scheduled to start, she had bought N50 palm oil, N100 semovita, N40 tinned tomatoes, N30 dry pepper and N100 bread. This foodstuff would barely last them a full day, but that’s how far her husband’s grudging stipend will stretch. As a result of her numerous failed businesses, she has been unable to support her bricklayer husband as he would prefer. Two of her sons attend a public school, and the others are apprenticed, which is even more expensive. She has even considered sweeping courtyards for the adjoining houses and getting paid but her bad back vehemently refuses. Her husband resents her for what he terms her ‘uselessness’ but she continues to look for ideas and pray. She has been told that the food seller won’t be available during the strike but she is praying this will not be true. Her husband prefers giving his sons money to buy food directly rather than providing her funds to cook with. She realizes she forgot to buy kerosene and she makes a mental note to do that.

She finishes dressing up and moves into the kitchen. That’s where the problem starts. Her family’s cupboard is located on the wall close to the door. She is astounded to find the cupboard hanging open. ”Yeeeeeeeeee”, she screams. “Na who be the mad man, the craze person wey tins no go better for, wey break my cupboard?” She feels a rush of madness sizzle from the soles of her feet up to the base of her neck. She immediately takes off her scarf and ties it around her waist as she goes from door to door screaming and banging with her fists. Her neighbors saunter out in shock and they try to understand her as she is speaking an unfamiliar language. She is so angry that she is speaking foreign tongues. “Na who be the craze person wey want make my husband send me back go village wey thief all our food!” I go kill person for here today!” Her sons, four boys, three of which are teenagers rush out at the sound of their mother shouting. As they are trying to calm her, the neighbor with the generator starts shouting at her, asking what her problem is and why she should wake everyone with her shouts of poverty early in the morning. At this, her eldest son retorts, “na ma mama you dey follow talk like dat?’ And before anyone can stop him, he strikes out with lightning speed, slapping the neighbor, who instantly retaliates. The woman’s other three sons join their brother to restore their mother’s honor. The generator neighbor’s wife shouts and pounces on the boys trying to inflict whatever harm she can. Other onlookers, looking for an opportunity to fight choose this moment to do so, and suddenly the yard is thrown into mayhem as pots,pans and unmentionables are flying through the air. The woman tries her best to protect her boys until she gets punched in the eye. Her husband comes out stupefied and at that point, her eldest son begins to bleed, profusely. Her husband rushes to him shouting for aid. Some neighbors, shocked out of their battles gather round to help carry the boy to a hospital. Apparently, he has been struck by a broken bottle. The woman knows that she is in trouble for her husband has no money to pay hospital bills.

To Be Continued...