So, a renowned Surgeon (think of someone in the league of Ben Carson, yea, that renowned) had a talkative, nagging wife. You know the kind of nagging that makes someone go on and on about how “the umbrella in the PDP logo should have been folded up and not open” (those who live in Nigeria can relate).

Her husband was quite the Gentleman. He took it all in, in stride or so it seemed. He always had a beaming smile for this beautiful woman of a nag who had become his “not so better half”; his wife.

One day, he returned home with a heavy-laden, mahogany leather briefcase with gold clasp. Accompanying him, were two heavily built men (think Mawuli Gavor).

Pic Credit: Google Images

He hugged his wife from behind, you know the kind of hug that makes you settle into the arms of the one hugging you and gets you feeling comfy like you are resting in a cozy armchair, he smiled into her eyes and said; “Morolake Honey, I have a huge surprise for you, one that would test the strenght of our love and change our lives forever.”

However, before I show you this surprise, I want you to take a sip of your favorite drink; Brandy and Fanta Orange on rocks. He stretched his hand without looking back or speaking a word to the men, one of them handed him a Glass; it was almost like a movie scene unravelling before her eyes (she had always loved heavily-built men but loved her husband nonetheless). She sipped at the drink he poured her.

Pic Credit: Google Images

While her excitement was palpable, her eyes roved around the room questioningly. She could not take it anymore! She downed the glass! In 4, 3, 2, 1… She sat with a heavy thud on the soft sofa and looked around morosely. She was Semi-conscious.

Like a Pre-meditated attack, the two men swung into action, they lifted her; in 1, 2, off they went; taking the flight of 18-staircase in twos. They stopped in front of a room with a sign that read; “STUDY“.

Her husband had spent a lot of time in his study in the past few days and had asked not to be disturbed. This was quite unusual and had only served to increase her anxiety. Even though this was quite disturbing, she obeyed like the wife.

Oga Surgeon sped up behind them and swiftly opened the door! Lo and behold, the study was no longer a study but a MINI THEATRE. They set her down into a wheelchair. She stared, wide-eyed, her heart racing as a bevy of thoughts charted their course through her mind. Like one inebriated, she was in a haze.

The gold clasps of the heavy-laden briefcase were unfastened; flung wide open, its contents; an array of sophisticated surgical instruments were laid bare. She closed her eyes, hot tears ran down her cheeks while the Gentlemen took off their suits to reveal what was under.

Pic Credit: Google Images

Scrubs! One was an anaesthesist, the other, a nurse! The surgeon’s order was to leave her semi-conscious so she could ‘watch’ albeit in a haze how he sort his ‘life’s worse problem’. The deal was to surgically sew her lips shut in a controlled environment.

The surgeon got to work and in less than three hours, the surgical operation was done!

Pic Credit: Google Images

She woke up in utter shock and dismay; the anaesthetist was quick to pump in some more of the sedatives into her veins.

After what seemed like eternity, she came out of her semi-conscious state to a video on the screen by her bedside. It was her husband. “Honey, did you like the surprise? It took two weeks to finally show you the surprise”. She had been kept in a semi-conscious state for 336 hours!

She stared back at the image on the screen of what once was her loving, courageous and doting husband who had nicknamed her; Morolake. Her mind raced back to the time she first met her husband. Events of the past 25 years unfolded before her eyes.

Her husband was the only black student in the Medical Class of 1977 in a Predominantly white institution. When she first introduced him as her boyfriend, her Parents had kicked against their relationship but she stood by him. He gave her the name; Morolake, a name which literally means; ” I have a seen a wealth to treasure”; he had told her she was the Precious wife whose price was above rubies and he would love and cherish her all his life.

Ten years into their marriage, they had borne no children. His relatives in Africa were constantly kicking up a fuss about their childless marriage while he just appeared to be unbothered. Her friends had told her that; African men were polygamous in nature and her husband probably had another family in Africa.

From the sweet, loving, supportive wife she was, she became a nag. Her mind was constantly haunted by the images of the other woman who might have given her husband what she never could. She was dark, with chubby cheeks, doe-eyed and endowed with a smooth, subservient nature that will make anyone become enamored of her. Because her husband was wealthy, she imagined the other woman will be dressed in gorgeous head-wraps (gele), iro and buba, (a short blouse and wrapper – the traditional attire worn by married women in South-western Nigeria, West Africa; where her husband’s ancestral home was) with neck adorned in traditional beads and face heavily made up with signature makeup.

Thoughts such as these which had haunted her imagination, she could share with noone. So, she let steam off by nagging.

She snapped back into reality when she heard her husband’s soft, soothing voice. There, he was in front of her with divorce papers stating “irreconcilable differences”. What?!

Her cool husband had imploded! Worse of all, he has left her with an indelible scar (the stitches had been taken out but there she had something that looked like a zip across her lips).

Where do we go from here?


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