Chinelo looked mockingly at her
husband who sat across from her in the well lit room. How dare you be late? She
thought. How dare you attempt to miss such an opportunity, the door way out of
the misery I thought we were trapped in. Someone has come to our rescue and you
dare be late? I’ll forgive you because you came. If you had not, if you missed
this meeting, I would have filed for divorce first thing tomorrow. I would have
moved to the village with the children.
These thoughts danced around her
head as the facilitator spoke on. The facilitator- a middle aged woman with a
daring look that made one believe whatever she said – was telling a story of
how the business had helped a family. ‘They now have three cars’ she said. ‘Their
third house in Lagos will be ready before the end of the year. They now live in
a mansion’
Chinelo’s eyes rounded in a glow.
She stared at the pictures on the projector screen in the center of the room. The
family in the photograph stood beside a shining car, a big house was a short
distance away and well trimmed lawns and walkways were visible.
Chinelo exclaimed ‘ewoh!’ and
wrapped her hands around her chest like one feeling chilly. When she noticed
eyes falling on her, she felt embarrassed and straightened up. It was her
husband’s turn to give her a mocking gaze. ‘Why do you choose to disgrace us
here?’ he asked with his eyes and curved lips.
‘You will sit in your house and
bank alerts will come in. Money from every angle! Just register. This is your
doorway to financial freedom’ the facilitator continued.
‘See this woman’ she pointed at a
new picture on the projector screen, ‘She made thirty-four million naira last
year. ‘See this other man, the one with a blue cap; he made forty-seven million
naira.’
Elements that would make up her
world if she had thirty-four million naira, flashed in Chinelo’s head. That is
enough for me, she thought. The children will go to proper schools. We would
secure a house in the main city, not the suburb where we live and complain about
two-two naira. No more Nasco cornflakes on a bi-monthly basis. My children will
enjoy kellogg’s every week. Oh Chineke!
She looked instinctively in her
husband’s direction. He did the same and their eyes locked in a stare of hope.
We are safe now, they said to each other, delivered from misery. When we get
thirty-four million, we will resign our present jobs in style, I (the wife)
will spit at my boss. I (the husband) will slap courtesy into my boss’s wife. Life
will be perfect. Life will sparkle. I won’t flare up and call you names, at
least not a name like: poverty stricken he-goat or useless pauper. We would
paint the sky in the village a different colour every year, starting with red,
then purple, then green, then a dark shade of blue, and on and on. I will
finally tell you I love you. I will call you ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ because life
will be sweet.
‘In six months, we are going on a
trip to California. I’ll need just ten persons who will be ready to commit
themselves to this. Who is ready to go with me?’ the facilitator announced.
Anxious hands flew up but Chinelo
jumped to her feet, noticed her awkwardness and took her seat again. She
avoided her husband’s face.
Forms were handed out to everyone
in the room who indicated interest in the business. Chinelo filled hers
hurriedly. She felt a necessity to be the first person to submit her form. The
race towards thirty-four million had begun. She practically ran to the
submission desk and was the first to submit. Her body was vibrating. Her
husband felt the same way but ego kept him in check.
They agreed to keep the business a secret.
‘Let our breakthrough be a
surprise to all our enemies’ Chinelo instructed her husband, who nodded in
agreement. A few names and faces of ‘their enemies’ came to him and his nodding
became more vigorous. It was be nice to have those people die of heart attacks
when they get news that he lives in a mansion and has thirty-four million
stashed in the bank.
For three days after the meeting,
Chinelo hummed praise tunes as she carried out her chores. She smiled a lot and
tolerated her neighbours to the extent of apologizing when they were wrong. Her
husband became cranky at work and responded to his boss with nods and short,
inaudible remarks. He spent time constructing his life around thirty-four
million. He compared his boss’s mansion to what his would look like. As he
chauffeured his boss about town, he imagined being driven into his village in a
Big Jeep, in December. He would sit at the ‘owner’s corner’ and bark orders at
the driver. Chinelo would sit beside him, looking gracefully and flamboyant.
The children will be driven in another Big Jeep. Their suitcases and servants
would be in yet another. The three jeeps would be black and gleaming. They
would have tinted windshields and windows.
On the fourth day, Chinelo got a
call.
‘Hello. Good Afternoon Madam.’
‘Hello. Good Afternoon’ Chinelo
replied.
‘Madam you attended the networking
business seminar?’
‘Yes O! But we are still trying
to source for the initially money. See ehn, we would get it. I hope it is not
too late. I hope there is no problem. Please, we would get the money. I was the
first to submit my form on that day. Please O. Biko…’
‘Madam… Madam… That is not why I
called’ the caller was amused.
‘Ehn ehn? Okay. So why did you
call. Hope no problem?’
‘There is an error on the form
you submitted.’
‘Error ke?’
‘Yes, the name you wrote is: Mrs.
Thirty-four million’
‘Chineke! I wrote that? I am
sorry O. Chei! I hope I have not lost the opportunity. Please sir. Biko.’
‘Madam…Madam… you have not. Just
pay us a visit and complete another form.’
Chinelo did not say a word about
her error to her husband. She feared he would laugh her to scorn or worse
still, get enraged at her audacity to make such an error that could have
jeopardized their chances of making it into a house in GRA and tear-rubber
cars.
But he could have cared less.
Since that day when he stood at the balcony of their mansion, his hands resting
on the marble constructs of the balcony. He watched the children splash water
around in the pool beneath. Tall palms lined the walls of the premises and
swayed gently. A little distance away, five Bentleys gleamed in the sun. They
had serial registration numbers: EZEEGO 1, EZEEGO 2, … EZEEGO 5.
He smiled and returned into the
mansion. There she was, in a night dress she otherwise would have reaped apart
and sewed an outing blouse from. Why was it suddenly night time? She lay on a
large bed that had gold lines running along its costly wood. She was smiling
too.
“Chinelo my love”
“My husband” She replied
“You know I love you” he said,
walking closer till he sat at the edge of the bed.
She wriggled into his warmth.
“You are my sweetie” she said.
“Pinch me Chinelo, it must be a
dream”
“No be dream my honey. Na our
money don come”
“Pinch me! Pinch me!”
She did pinch him, and to prove
it wasn’t a dream, she chose a fleshy spot by the side of his belly and twisted
the flesh long and hard, pulling it with vigour.
He jerked out of sleep and
slammed his head against the crude edges of their aged bed.
“Are you mad!” he yelled, unsure
whether to rub his head or his inflamed side. He rubbed his head.
“You dey shout pinch me, pinch
me”
He looked around. No balcony, no
swimming pool. The room’s walls had the crayon markings the children had made
and there was no trace of gold on the bed. It was a dream.
“Na dream?” Chinelo asked.
He sighed and hope leaped into
his eyes.
“My dear, our thirty-four million
dey come!”
