By: Andy Akporugo Jr
A city girl, she rises from her bed and leaves it unmade until the returns at close of day and then folds herself for the following night’s rest, unto its most straightened corner, a cycle she repeats until help comes from her spouse, who for fear of being labelled misogynistic had all the while quietly borne the pain he doesn’t share with his father, as he pretended to fall asleep on the news, in the settee.
She doesn’t cook because she cannot cook although she knows how to cook. She makes hobby of only those things that take her away from the house or into her telephone or computer, and now on account of the requirements of correctness which don’t describe whose job it is by gender assignments, she has made daughters whose unchallenged experiences are sure to make them seek life outside the homes of their own husbands” hearts.
And when I ask in my father’s voice, ‘‘so what does your husband get from you then’’, she responds: Companionship! If he wanted all those things you talk of, he would have gone to the village to get a wife.
Shuoooooooo! But I must close my mouth – this is 2017. We must all be international! But again, shuoooooo!!! Wetin come be “wife material” nowadays? Na wa oooo!