Aunty Tobe was one of those women who could vouch for their husband’s fidelity; she was older than her husband by almost ten years, but was assured that her husband could do no wrong. She would say with confidence, “Bola no get time to dey carry woman up-and-down , I am all the woman he needs”. Although my mother would always insist that all Nigerian men are adulterous especially the ones who married young, aunty Tobe refused to subscribe to that theory. In fairness to aunty Tobe, her husband was never caught cheating, he never looked at any woman with a gaze that reeks of lust –like my father would do every Sunday, when the lead vocalist of our church’s choir steps on the podium to lead the worship session, with her shoe-heels too high ,shirt too tight and her skirt too short.
”I don’t mind him having sex with another woman ,but what I would not tolerate is if he decides to take one ashawo as a second wife or carries H.I.V to my house”, mother told aunty Tobe, defending her nonchalant attitude towards my father’s extra-marital affairs. She was ready to sacrifice anything to stay married to my father ,saving her marriage was sacrosanct . Unlike my mother, aunty Tobe had nothing to save because her marriage seemed perfect.
My father was transferred to Italy to manage the European branch of the company he works for. Mother was never going to let him go without taking us along ,she said “I will not have one skinny onyinbo as a co-wife, over my dead body”. Unfortunately , the transfer came during my final year in secondary school.
“It would not be wise to take him along, he could stay with us till he completes his secondary school”, aunty Tobe’s husband advised, and my father agreed . I was going to live with aunty Tobe and uncle Bola (her husband) for a year.
Aunty Tobe and uncle bola did not have children , so they treated me like their child .Aunty Tobe is a flight attendant, she is hardly available. Her husband on the other hand is always home; he is an architect and runs his business from the house. Uncle bola is an amazing person, we developed a bond I was never able to explain. We would stay awake on days I don’t have exams and talk about everything , the were no boundaries with us. He said I reminded him of himself when he was younger. I felt honoured to be similar to a man like him, because he was a perfect example of the type of man I want to become.
I had three months left to stay with uncle Bola , but three months was not enough. I would miss his jokes, his wisdom, his ridiculous dance moves and our conversations. I told him I would call everyday but he said, “you will find one fine white girl that will drive you crazy , and forget about your uncle”. I knew it would be impossible to forget about uncle Bola, what we had was too strong to forget.
Uncle Bola started keeping his distance from me. He would not spend the night home or would come home drunk at night. I was loosing him ,I could not afford to let that happen.
We finally spent time together ,and I suggested we played chess. He did not seem interested and the game was characterized by silence and surreptitious glances at each other.
“what do you do when you love somebody, but cant be with the person”. We have had deep conversations before, but this question threw me off balance
“I don’t understand” I replied, although I understood the question clearly.
"I think I love someone, and it is not my wife” uncle bola moves the chess board infront of him and moves closer to me I see his hands shake as he moves closer. “I think I love you”, he turns his face away, as though he regrets his utterance
I wished I was shocked by this revelation, I wished he kept his feelings to himself , I wished I did not love him also , but I did.
I reach for this shaking hand and hold it , tears swimming In my eyes and my heart racing. He pulls his hand from my grip and runs it down my back. In that moment I knew; aunty Tobe had joined the clueless wives club.
