Chapter 1: Cold Pass Freezer

Married to the big man of Abuja’s social scene in my sister’s place for half a year, yet the guy still dey refuse to touch me.

Abeg, this one pass my power.

Even if I try to console myself say na Abuja men get wahala, nothing prepare me for this kind dry marriage. I go party, people dey hail me, 'Madam Musa!' Someone go even push small chops for my hand, and zobo dey sweet for my mouth as I smile. But once I reach house? Cold pass freezer. Sometimes I go sit for parlour dey count the ceiling fan blades, dey wonder if all these fine-fine wives dey manage their own like me. For night, I go roll for bed, dey ask myself why my own case different.

Small small, my heart dey chill. Hope just dey fade, so I begin reason say maybe na divorce go save me.

As I dey dey, anytime Musa waka pass me for corridor, him dey behave like say I be distant cousin wey just jam for burial. This kind wahala no be wetin dem dey train person for. Even when I go pray for my mama house, answer no show. Na so I dey reason, abeg, make I find my own way out before story land for social media tears.

But luck get as e be. I come overhear him and his friends dey gist one evening.

Na one Sunday, NEPA don carry light since morning, so everybody dey cool outside compound. Musa and him old secondary school guys dey for backyard, dey chop pepper soup, dey lick suya, dey down palm wine from Benue. Their gist loud reach my window, breeze dey blow their laugh my way. I no wan hear, but ear no get cover.

“Some people dey get strong urge, but because dem no wan scare their wife, dem dey force themselves hold am back. I no go call name.”

Rotimi, one guy wey sabi Musa from way back, just drop am with style. From their laugh, you go know say na inside joke. I peep small from curtain, dey shake my head.

“Na women dey quick fall for temptation pass. Brother Musa, if you continue like this, if your wife waka go meet another man, you go regret am o.”

The person dem dey tease just sip him palm wine coolly. “Anything wey I no fit give her, make another person give her. I just want make she come house after she don flex finish.”

Dem all burst laugh. “Abeg, stop to dey form generous. If you really get mind, no dey mumu yourself for your WhatsApp every day.”

One idea flash for my mind. I rush open Musa’s Facebook.

I see the pinned post.

[Finally marry my crush, but I get addiction wahala. How I go take give my partner better experience without scaring her?]

Na so my body begin cold like ogbono soup wey dem forget for pot overnight. So na this kind secret Musa dey keep? Abuja life no dey finish for wahala.

Late for night.

All those crickets outside dey shout like dem get meeting, but my mind just dey jump like NEPA light. Again, I carry the sexy nightgown wey I prepare, waka go Musa room.

Since we marry, work just dey tire am, and to avoid disturbing me, he move enter guest room by himself.

If I count well, e don reach two weeks since we even touch body.

Abeg, for Naija woman to dey count days like this, e no be beans. I even mark the date for my diary; e pain me reach bone. I remember my aunty advise me for kitchen, say marriage na patience. This one don pass patience—na endurance be this.

Musa just finish baff, come out. As he see me for bed, his hand pause as he dey dry him hair.

“Why you dey here?”

E no even talk am soft.

I look am from head to toe. Musa body na correct one; even inside towel, you go see say him chest wide, abs dey show small small.

Him nose bridge high, fingers long—abeg, this guy no suppose bad at all.

But since we marry for half year, I never really know am.

I just tire, so I talk straight.

“I come sleep with you.”

No matter how him wan dodge me.

Tonight, I no go gree.

I cross my leg like Yoruba aunty wey dey ready to settle quarrel, my eye no blink. Musa face freeze small. As he see wetin I wear, he just talk soft, “Okay.”

So easy?

I come dey suspect. As Musa waka come, e be like say him sef dey confused.

Only small rechargeable lamp dey shine for the bedside.

Musa lie down, still dey fresh from baff, water vapor dey him body.

My mind just dey jump like NEPA light. I carry my hand go round him waist and belle.

Musa whole body just stiff, after small time, he lower him eye.

Him voice come rough and low for darkness.

“You want make I help you?”

Before I fit answer, he don quick open drawer.

He bring out finger cot, hand still dey shake small. I just freeze, dey stare am, my aunty words for kitchen still dey ring for my ear—'Endure, be patient, no shame for marriage.' But as I see the thing, vex just climb me.

I snatch am, throw give am.

“Help, help, help—abeg, this your old-school style, which one you still remain?”

My voice sharp as I dey vex.

The small night light no even show Musa real face well.

But I fit feel say him dark eyes dey on me.

Hot.

Maybe even confused small.

The pain wey I dey feel just rise again, I begin curse.

“Musa, if you no fit do am, talk true. Na only you be man for this world? I fit find another person, abeg.”

We don marry finish, why e be like say he dey do charity for me?

Musa voice dry. “No be so, Amara. I just dey try my own way.”

But he no even try do more.

He no even hold my face kiss me.

Third time now.

I prepare well to go all out, still, na rejection.

Slowly, disappointment just full my body.

I grab the shirt wey I pull from bed, get up.

With gbim, I slam the door go out.

I swear, if not for my mama people, this matter for don reach family WhatsApp group. As I waka out, my eye dey red, heart dey pound like generator. For this Abuja, na only who get patience dey chop life, but my own don finish.