The wife that cheated

THE WIFE THAT CHEATED PART 1.

TRUE LIFE STORY.

Yemisi, (not her real name) was my neighbour at Ogbomoso.

I moved into the house when I was in 400 level or so.

Very jovial woman. She's the type Yorubas call abẹbẹlúbẹ.

A bit forward but very pleasant and helpful.

I had heard her story from my friend who let the room to me because she got married.

I heard that she was a happening babe in her hay days.

She had learnt fashion designing but she loved to party. She told me by herself, stories of how she travelled as far as Jos to party.

We all know partying for young ladies sometimes comes with booze and men.

She saw it all.

Truth be told, she was a very pretty woman. As at this time, she was in her late thirties but still looked very pretty.

By their standards, she was late in getting married because she was yet to marry at around age twenty six.

She was taken to pastors and prophets by her mother because of this.

It was on one of such visits that she met this mam. The one she eventually married. Let's call him Sanjo.

He was an orphan who was living from hand to mouth. Ogbomoso wasn't this prosperous at the time. He was also a tailor who was working as a joinman with an outfit. He barely made enough money to feed himself and was living with his elder sister and her family at the time.

They hit it off and started dating at this time. The petite, pretty, Yemisi and tall, lanky and handsome Sanjo.

Everyone knew that they were an item. She loved him and did her best to support him.

One day, Sanjo told her of his decision to go in search of greener pastures. He had heard that people could cross over to Europe via Libya.

All attempts to dissuade him were futile. He was tired of the poverty. He was tired of eating from his prospective mother in law's pot without giving a dime.

He left and they didn't see each other for almost two years.

Yemisi waited.

While she waited, I don't know if she went back to her old ways. I never asked her.

After almost two years, he came back with practically nothing but the clothes on his back.

He didn't succeed in crossing to Spain.

Yemisi welcomed him with both arms. She was only happy to have her lover back.

By now, she was almost thirty years old.

Time was ticking.

'Her mates' were already in their husbands' houses with two, three children or more.

Her mother and his family members were only happy to get them married.

They got married and lived in her parents house for a while. But he wasn't comfortable with this arrangement. They eventually rented a single room.

They started their lives together even if most of the time, Yemisi's mother brought them both cooked and raw food.

He hustled, tried different jobs but it was barely enough.

Yemisi started selling the sewing machines her father had equipped her with upon graduating from fashion school. After all, how many people sewed clothes in a place like Ogbomoso often? Sanjo could not start his own venture because there was no means and clientele wasn't guaranteed.

I heard from people that Yemisi could have fared better if she was more hardworking and resilient. They said she didn't perfect the skill so the few people who could afford to sew clothes consistently would not even patronise her.

Hmm.

Things were really tough.

To top it off, she couldn't get pregnant.

For about three of four years, they had no child.

At this point, the whispers had begun.

They said it was because she had been reckless in her hay days.

They said she must have destroyed her womb from various abortions.

She heard them. Some said it to her face. Even her husband's siblings who could not give their brother a cup of garri became judge and jury over her matter.

Life was tough.

But she held on to her husband. He stood by her as well.

Then it happened.

A PART OF MY JOURNEY.

THE WIFE WHO CHEATED PART 2.

She got pregnant.

Hallelujah!

Her problems were over. Or so she thought.

It was a difficult pregnancy.

Many visits to the hospital, tests and medications, mostly paid for by her mother.

She really missed her father. God rest his soul.

Her mother and her siblings were her rock.

She recounted the days that she ate garri in the rain while pregnant. This usually happened when her mother was out of town probably on an extended visit to one of her siblings, especially when one of them just had a baby.

But they sailed through.

Nine months dragged along.

It was a very trying pregnancy. Coupled with the stress of how they would care for the child. Her siblings and mother did all they could to support them.

Sanjo kept trying to do all he could to make money. But he wasn't successful.

It was time to birth the baby.

The doctor said it had to be through a cesearian.

She couldn't tell me why because she's not learned but I suspect her pelvis being small could be the reason.

Anyway, her mother told them to go ahead at Baptist Hospital, Ogbomoso.

She was delivered of a beautiful baby girl.

Her mother and siblings paid 90% of the hospital bill which was no small change.

The baby also spent some time in the neonatal ward.

All through this, her mother was steadfast.

Sanjo's elder sister appeared sometimes but wasn't of much help as she was poor too.

They named their daughter Omolewa. She was indeed, a beauty to behold.

I moved into the house when she was about five years old. Very beautiful girl. A perfect replica of her mother. Her world revolved around her.

When Yemisi was strong enough to take care of herself and the little one without much assistance, Sanjo talked to her one day.

"We cannot continue like this. For how long will we depend on your mother? She is an old woman we should be giving to and not the other way round. I need to go out and be a man. I need to take care of my family."

"You tried that remember? It didn't work out. Leaving the land of our birth may not be for you. I am sure that things will get better." She replied.

But he was adamant.

He promised it was going to be different this time around.

He was going to Lagos.

He's been talking to his friends. Some, who learned the same skill as him.

They were doing well. He heard that tailors were in high demand in the big city.

He wasn't going to leave the shores of Nigeria.

And so with Omolewa barely three months old, Sanjo left Ogbomoso for Lagos.

Yemisi was supported by her mother as usual.

At some point, because the dry season bites hard in the town, her mother gave her a galvanised tank which she began to use to sell water.

This meagre business was barely enough to feed but she managed, especially with her mum's help.

But during the rainy season, there was no sales.

No one bought water.

The wells were back and rain water came handy too.

It's been six months and she heard nothing of Sanjo.

I'm not sure the GSM was available yet but if they were, they were yet to reach this town and if they had, they couldn't possibly afford one.

Ultimately, there was no means of communication between them. There was no way for her to know if he was dead or alive.

Sanjo on the other hand refused to go home if only to let his wife know that he was fine.

He was determined not to show his face at home until he had something to show for his sojourn.

Although Lagos was definitely better than his hometown economically, surviving here wasn't a walk in the park either.

He had to search for a job and also prove himself that he was actually good at his job.

Don't forget those who exploit people in the name of employing them.

But he was determined not to go home empty handed this time around. He stayed put in Lagos.

Yemisi's mother had to travel to the North to visit one of her other children. She gave Yemisi foodstuff and as much cash as she could. But the old woman took ill while there. Her stay was extended beyond what she had planned.

Yemisi was suffering at home.

Breastfeeding her child many days on empty stomach. She was desperate.

Then a man who had been after her showed up again.

I told her even if it meant hawking, she shouldn't have cheated on her husband. But truth be told, Yemisi wasn't one to hustle.

You know by mere looking at the way she carried herself, despite being poor and uneducated that she was a natural 'baby girl'.

Yemisi was one of those ladies who found it hard to work with their hands.

I don't know if it was her upbringing. She just wasn't one who was resilient or hardworking.

So, she took the easy way out.

She had no one to turn to.

She had been overly dependent on her parents all her life.

Now they were not around to help her out.

She wasn't lucky enough to have married a rich man either.

She gave in to the man's advances.

Sometimes for as little as 200 naira to feed, she would let him have sex with her.

I had no way of verifying if he was the only one or there were more men. That she was telling me all this was hard enough. I didn't prod.

Hmm.

Her neighbours had noticed that she opened the door at night and very early in the morning on many occasions.

The whispers had started.

The sneers, the looks.

But she brazed herself. They had no right to judge her, after all none of them offered her a meal.

Even when she went to her sister in law. She had nothing to give her.

Then one night.

Her "visitor" was in the room. It was almost midnight.

She heard the dreaded knock on her door.

THE WOMAN WHO CHEATED PART 3 (FINAL EPISODE)

Yes, it was her husband.

He was back in town.

And with a vengeance too.

The man on the bed managed to escape in the midst of the uproar. He ran out through the back door.

Yemisi and her child were sent out that night.

She went back to her parents' house.

Then the begging began.

The prayers.

The cries.

The scolding.

The shame.

The humiliation.

She could hardly go out.

She had no choice but to face the mess that she had created.

Sanjo left for Lagos and continued working.

Anytime he was in town, Yemisi and her mother would go to him and plead.

They would plead with his elder sister as well when he wasn't around. Hoping she would beg him on their behalf.

This went on for about one year.

Sanjo was doing well by now. Things were looking up for him.

He had his own apartment and when he came around, he wore beautiful attires.

By the time he actually granted them audience out of the 'love he had for her', he told them that he had married someone else in Lagos.

As a matter of fact, she was pregnant already, to give birth very soon.

Sanjo made her realise that she could only come back if she was willing to cope with him having a second wife.

She agreed, after all, what other choice did she have?

She moved back in and Sanjo paid for an extra room.

He furnished the living room sparingly and made her realise that he was doing all he did for the sake of his daughter.

He paid Omolewa's school fees and bought her loads of toys and groceries.

He would give her paltry sums for upkeep and this was the arrangement they had until I left.

He came probably once in three months.

He rarely touched her.

She would cry, pray and beg him.

At some point, she began visiting herbalists for love potions.

People of God, jazz dey true true.

Even my husband was surprised.

On this particular occasion, this man was actually nice to her. I was shocked.

He had sex with her on a regular.

He spent almost one week as against the normal three days he used to spend with him leaving home in the morning and coming very late at night. When we were all asleep.

He slept in, in the mornings!

He ate her food.

When he got back to Lagos, he called!

As in he carried his phone to call.

This was not the case in the past.

According to my neighbour, the Baba gave her something to put in his meal. He usually ate once he arrived but rarely did after that since he was never at home.

He ate this meal and others all through his stay.

Gave her money to cook every single day till he left.

After one week in Lagos, bros went back to factory setting.

One day, right in my presence, Yemisi called in their new found lovey dovey manner.

Guy asked if she was ok.

As in, he legit told her to get off his phone and stop disturbing him with frivolous calls.

Yemisi started crying.

"Aunty Tolu, Baba told me that what he gave me was just a tip of the iceberg. Just to let me see what he can do since I couldn't afford the overall package. Now it has faded. I need to do the whole package."

I asked how much this wonderful package would cost, she said about 10,000. This was in the year 2007.

This was a fortune to a jobless woman.

This was when I drifted away from her.

Her desperation irritated me to no end as young as I was. I was 22 years old around the time.

She begged me to loan her the money. She began to search through the house for whatever she could sell to raise the money too.

I told her I didn't have that kind of money, and even if I did, I won't be a party to that nonsense.

Last I heard from another neighbour years later, she had given birth to another child with her husband but it seems the arrangement hadn't changed much.

Whatever lessons you draw from this, it's fine.

But know that while men forgive their wives who cheat, they're rarely as magnanimous as women.

Society doesn't feel they are worthy of forgiveness or any form of happiness either.

This is not so with men.

Up until I left Ogbomoso, she was an object of scorn and ridicule.

Everyone in the neighbourhood looked at her with disdain and treated her like a leper.

Just because...

She cheated.

This is a story of how the average woman who cheats in Africa is seen.

It didn't matter that she was an obscenely neat woman.

It didn't matter that she took extra care of her home and daughter.

It didn't matter that she was a great cook.

No one remembered how she spent her money on her husband when he had nothing, but waited patiently for him when attempted to go to Spain via Libya for two long years.

All she was defined by was the fact that she cheated.

Have you seen anyone treat cheating men like this?