I AM A MAN.

That's the only 'crime' I committed.

I get into argument with a woman and she verbally abuses me and calls me unprintable names. She freely uses the weapon of words, and I am left defenceless as she crumbles my ego.

It enrages me but I can't react. I am not expected to.

If I talk back, I would be less than a man. If I hit her, even when she hits me first, I would be a beast; a man who can't control his temper, and if I walk away I am a weakling; a man who gives up before a woman. A half man.

I am expected to bear my pains and not cry out, even when it hurts beyond measure. A man never cries openly like a baby, they say.

And so I must bear the pain of disappointment and heartbreak, of the loss of a loved one, of physical torture, of emotional stress, of all manners of tragedy, and not let a tear fall.

But a woman can wail and scream, shout and cry, because she is only a woman and is naturally 'weak', and there's nothing wrong with openly venting those emotion of vulnerability.

And so I lean on my own shoulder, lick my own wounds, tell myself I am alright, that all is well and move on.

When it is war, I am expected to pick up arms and march to the war front, to kill or be killed without pity or mercy.

Because I am a man and I should be strong, strong enough to fight for both genders.

I provide every material needs of my family, and it is taken as normal. What i am supposed to do, and then they would remember I am the head of the family.

But when a woman provides, she becomes a 'super woman', praised, adored and held in exceptional esteem by all.

If I fail to provide, I become a villain and an outcast in my own house. I would be called incompetent, labelled weak and useless.

But for the woman who does not provide nor bring anything into the home, she is 'just a woman', and therefore the responsibility should never fall on her.

She is already absolved.

All the tough work are left for me; driving trucks, digging mines, operating heavy machinery etc. Because i am a man?

If I become a hair stylist, or a beautician, I am looked down upon or even tagged 'gay'. Now my gender has to choose for me in the eyes of the society?

It's difficult to believe I can be faithful to my woman. Just because i am a man? Yet many women cheat, and in the eyes of the world they are innocent because they were not caught in the act.

Yet I have been judged already.

She thumbs a ride and gets a lift because she appears vulnerable and needs help. I thumb and don't get because I ought to have hustled to buy my own car.

She flaunts her 'assets' and gets worldwide accolade and acceptance for being beautiful, I flaunt my six packs and is called a lazy bum who wouldn't want to work but whiles away precious time sculpting 'broke' muscles...

I marry a woman who is financially well to do more than I am, and I become a gold digger. A woman who does same does so for financial security; a necessity in marriage.

So she does well.

A lady meets a man and sleeps with him for money, society says she's trying to survive, and she is even pitied. A man does same and is a douchebag, a leech who lives and feeds off women.

A misfit.

And because I am a man who should be strong, who should be responsible and have all things under control at all times, who should be strong for and provide for his woman, I clamp down on all my pain and weaknesses.

Because my anatomy says I am male.

And they'll say this post is biased, lopsided because of my gender.

But the truth remains that I am fully human just like any other woman, and i should be allowed to fully live my life as such.

I am not just my gender.

I am me.

feyiflutist:
oh Elena.....nice story op
well done

Thank you.

t1976:
So Elena is an illiterate,eyah i pity the man, btw op nice and interesting story.

Thank you.

ELENA


I look at the cuff cold against my wrists and a sob catches in my throat.

My wife is about sending me to jail in less than a year of marriage, and she has tears in her eyes.
Now I ask myself how I had ended up with such a woman?

Where had I kept my head all these months?

Now that I let it all run through my mind, the whole thing is coming back to me.
I had been too intoxicated and charmed by her beauty and sweetness that I had not paid attention to her claims.
To what she really is.

Had I been that gullible? I thought I was smart.

I worked as a teller in a bank; one of the top new generation banks in the country, and that was where I met Elena my wife, nine months ago.

The moment she stepped through the electronic door of the bank and my eyes fell on her, I could not help myself. It was my lucky day as she walked straight to my stand.

'Good morning'.

Dear me!, I thought. She had the most beautiful of voices. Sonorously angelic. White beautiful dentition...

'Good morning madam, how may i help you?'.

Tall, well dressed, filled in and out at the right places. What more could a man ask for...?

Mama's voice reechoed from one corner on the inside of my head, bouncing around my skull like a trapped mouse.

'Emeka, You must give me a grandchild next year oo!'

Her voice had trailed after me as I left the family house that weekend.
I rarely visited mama these days because she would always torment me about getting her a grandchild.

'Please I need to pay some money into an account'.

Her voice jolted the trail of thoughts out of my head.

'Of course, of course..., here..' I said, sliding over a copy of the payment slip across the cold counter to her.

'Thank you'.

That voice again...

It was a cold morning but I was beginning to feel warm. All those dreams I used to have about a wife with the body of Venus.

As she rummaged through her handbag, I surreptitiously checked her out, while pretending to be concentrating on my PC.

Wow!

It was on a Tuesday morning, and thankfully there was no rush. I would probably have missed her if there had been. As it is i had all the time to give to her, and I was willing.

Much willing.

'Could you please help me fill out my teller? I forgot my glasses'.

I quickly looked squarely at her. Something started to swim in my chest. Suddenly it became a flutter.

Poor eyesight. I sighed inwardly.
How come perfection is always rare? This perfect body and a poor eyesight?

'My pleasure' I replied. My grin spread all over my face, and she had returned it.

Holy moses! The smile...
The flutter in my stomach became almost audible.

What's your name?' I asked, feeling lucky to hear it straight out of her mouth in words.

'Elena'.

Beautiful name, I thought. My legs grew rubbery. I remembered the first experience at 'toasting' a lady. Story for another day.

That morning opened another chapter in my live, and within a month from that day, we started dating.

I felt I was living out a movie. I could not wait to take her home to mama...


***


Elena had told me she was a graduate.

She had shown me her pictures where she was on the full NYSC uniform. She looked so radiant in it. Pictures never lied they say, or wasn't it so anymore.

We got married three months later, and it was the best moment of my life. I could not stop smiling throughout the whole ceremony.

We got along fine, Elena and I.

A month later, I was supposed to host my circle of friends specially in my house, but it had escaped my memory earlier. Because I could not get my wife on phone on that day, I had to send someone; a security man that was not on his duty shift on that day.

This is what I wrote:

My love,

Please forgive me for remembering this late.

My friends would be coming in the evening for a little hosting, and I would want you to prepare the best of afang soup.

Take the fifteen thousand naira in the bottom drawer in our bedroom and work that kitchen magic you always do.

I'll be coming with them at around 5:30pm, and please baby I'll be counting on you.

Your love,
Emeka.

By evening that I came back home with my friends, the steaming afang soup was ready.

Aside being seductively beautiful, Elena is a wonderful cook. My friends could not stop talking about how delicious the soup was and how lucky I am.

I was like a peacock. I spread my invincible plumes in pride as I saw envy dancing in their eyes. I had it all in one package. It wasn't my fault. Life is just good with Elena.

But something happened a few weeks later, and I should have been smarter than I was.

Elena loved to read. She always read. Novels, soft sell magazines, articles. She was always reading.

However, on a particular weekend I had not gone to work, I saw her reading a novel, and when I bent over to steal a peck, I noticed the novel was upside down.

'Baby, you're reading this upside down!' I laughed. I thought it was a prank. I thought she was just being naughty.

She smiled.

'Been finding it difficult with these glasses lately. I think I need a replacement', she replied with a smile that lighted up the whole room.

I dropped money for the glasses. The next day I came back from work to meet her in new frames.

We never talked about it again.

This morning we came to work to realize there was a major robbery at the bank over the night. Everyone automatically becomes a suspect.
When the police came, I knew they were going to search every staff's house.

I managed to sneak out a note to Elena. I wrote:



Baby,

Please there's something serious happening here today. No time to explain. Please, remove my safe from the house and dispose of it. There's an unlicensed gun in it and they're searching houses.

This is urgent.

-Emeka.



Hours later it was my turn. I trusted my wife. I relaxed. I had enough time to send information across to my wife. I should be safe.

Elena was smiling when we arrived with the police team, and I smiled back as we entered the living room. I winked at her, but the confused look she gave me made my heart drop.

The first thing she did was bring out a steaming bowl of afang soup.

Afang soup!!!

It all came back to me in a flash.

The nights she failed to summarize the novels she read for me, her passion for starting up some business instead of taking up the job I found for her, the day I saw her reading a book upside down...

Eventually they found the gun, and I would be going to court. I may have to go to jail.

I look at Elena and she has tears in her eyes. Now I am remembering, all those lies about her eyesight. I guess the security man must have read the first note out to her.

I thought I had it all, but this life is just a pot of beans, and because of illiteracy, my wife is about sending me to jail with a pot of afang soup!

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Interlude...
By the same author...

And LIMBO...

Limbo

INTERLUDE****
Books by same author...

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Thank you bro.

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Shakyroh320:
Tankx for dat,but plzz d update too small for whole day .

Greetings. I appreciate your comments.

The novella is a quick read and we are right now almost at the end.

But let me post once more.

Just for you...

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Have a Blessed Sunday, and may the rest of your week be amazing.

#shalom.