Last updated on April 27th, 2023 at 06:43 am
I heard keys shuffling at the door and sat up, startled. I must have slept off on the couch after putting the kids to bed. I picked up my phone and checked the time. It was twelve am. A man with a whole family was returning at this time. His food must be cold and I could cry just thinking about entering the kitchen to heat it at this time of the day. He came inside and I got up to greet him, he mumbled a response and asked about the kids.
“Something came up and that’s why I came late. I wanted to come home if not I would have stayed back.” He said.
“Okay, welcome.” Like I should be grateful that he came home. I didn’t even want to do that thing other women did—smelling their husband’s clothes. I turned and went to heat his food, almost dragging my feet out of exhaustion. We couldn’t talk about the help tonight. Tomorrow morning while we prepare for church or on our way to the church, I would tell him. God, please let the discussion go smoothly.
***
I disliked Sundays and the rush to church. I actually disliked everything at this stage of my life. I hoped this phase passed already. Dressing Daniel who had soiled the previous cloth I wore him, I held back from hissing. Some days I wanted to smash something, anything, I know it does not sound motherly, but that’s how I felt. Many times I pinched myself when I felt my blood boiling from frustration.
I wished Jude would pitch in during the weekends when he could, but he was barely home on the weekends. I was stuck, I felt stuck as I tried to get myself sorted, make breakfast for us to eat before going to church, feed the kids and dress them. Just two kids and I was coming undone. I hissed a hundred times or more every Sunday morning. During the week at least I only had to dress Dimeji.
***
We finally finished and Jude was waiting in the car probably fuming. On days like this, I wanted to shake him up and bite him and ask him to use his initiative. Help with something. Arggh! I had to do this till my kids could dress and take care of themselves. That would be in like six years. I took a deep breath; I was stuck for six years with this. I still had to talk to Jude about getting an IUD.
Vic had asked the other day about what was delaying and I just told her I had been busy. Doing it without Jude’s consent would be unreasonable. Would our doctor even do it without my husband’s permission? First things first—talk about getting a help to start on Monday, please. I was literally losing my mind.
I put Dan in the car seat and strapped Dimeji in also. Then sat down to fix my scarf. Jude looked at me like I was missing out on something. The gate! This craz… I stopped my trail of thoughts before they would come out of my mouth. I needed to behave well if I wanted him to listen to me as we went to church. I got down from the car and went to open the gate.
***
“Daddy Dimeji,” I called him that when I wanted to discuss something that involved money, to remind him that it was for his children since he was a father. I continued, not waiting for his reply, “Aunty Cecelia is coming to start tomorrow.”
“Who is that?” trust Jude to forget or pretend to forget.
“The woman that cleans our compound. She is supposed to resume tomorrow.”
“Oh, ehn, okay na.” Wow, just like that.
“Just thought to tell you, she said she would take ten thousand naira monthly.”
“Okay na.”
“Is that all? You would not say anything about how we are going to pay her?”
“We? How is this a we thing?”
“Jude, is the amount comfortable for you to pay?”
“Oh, how is the payment my business?” He was getting angry, but I knew he would not scream when the kids were there.
“I told you before talking with this woman so you could say if you were not fine with the idea. What’s this that you are saying again?” I could feel the onset of a headache from my sleep-deprived night and my frustrating morning. Tears welled in my eyes and I blinked to fight them back.
“You did not ask, you stated what you wanted. I allowed you to decide since you are an adult.”
“Jude.”
“I have no problems with her coming around, but don’t ask me to add that to my expense. I don’t work so hard just so I can drop everything at home.”
“I pull my weight just fine, what’s wrong with pulling yours?” He laughed. I wanted to smack him.
“You are about to outsource your weight and make me pay for it. Can’t you hear yourself? Madam, dead this talk. I am not talking about it again.”
I did not push, there was no need. I knew him. That would be the end of it and he would not reply to me again. I had planned to take it out of the allowance he dropped weekly and I had no other option but to resort to that now. I needed a job as soon as Daniel was grown enough to begin school, whatever would happen then should better happen.
I hated that I was in this mess. How could I be productive in other ways apart from my family and home if I was always rolling from kids to chores to husband? I didn’t know what would make this change. Yet I wanted my marriage to be the best, to improve. I didn’t know if Jude even cared or if he did and was just too proud to show it.
Come Monday, tomorrow, Cecelia was welcome. I would give her from whatever Jude dropped. That would be it. I didn’t want to die before my time and other women that had more than one house help didn’t have two heads.
