'Good afternoon sir, good afternoon ma. You are welcome to the Emotional House.' Saluted the Masked Poet.
'Thank you.' The man responded absent mindedly.
'Thank you, Masked Poet.' She replied with a crisp smile.
Immediately, the Masked Poet deduced the man was probably the one dragged to the Emotional House, of course by the woman.
'You are Mr. and Mrs........' The Masked Poet stammered as he checked his schedule.
'Chief please.' The woman interrupted kindly. 'Chief and Mrs. Ozahome. Thank you.'
- My bad. Noted.
- That's okay.
- For the sake of informal respect, please permit me to address you as 'daddy and mummy,' because that's exactly who you are to me. Hope I'm permitted?
- That's appropriate. Please you are free.
Until that moment, the man had said nothing since his response to the Masked Poet's welcoming salutations. The Masked Poet, who already had an idea of the couple's relational challenge, set about confirming his deductions from the details he was supplied with. His task was getting the man involved:
'I like the traditional apparel daddy is wearing. It looks exceptional, mummy don't you think so?' He asked the woman.
- Well.....well...... Yes it is.
- Before you stepped out the house, or on your way here, did you say that to daddy?
Instantly, the man kicked to life, prompted by the Masked Poet's question.
'How can she?' He asked superiorly. 'She never sees anything good to say about me. If it were a fault, she will quickly pick it up and run with it.'
'And what about you?' The woman retorted. 'What appreciation have you ever shown me despite all my efforts?'
Chief Ozahome complained to the Masked Poet afterwards:
'Young man, l don't know what more this woman wants from me. I make sure she doesn't lack anything. I give her all she wants!'
'No!' Mrs. Ozahome rebuked her husband sharply. 'It's not all l want you give me. Is money all there is to life? What about respect; do you give me that? Do you give me love, honour, and a listening ear? Do you care about my feelings in any given situation?'
- Taking care of you is the most important duty of a man to his wife. Woman, can you deny l don't do that?
- Okayyyy....... Since you are making that a stronghold, let me inform you all the monies you have been giving me have barely been sufficient and right now, I am no longer going to manage things anymore. So, from today, it's either a full dose or none at all.
The Masked Poet waded into the fight with a destination in mind.
'Daddy, do you eat at home or outside of the home most of the time?'
- I eat at home every time my son, l don't know what more this woman wants from me. If I were eating outside the home, it surely would have been another ingredient for a daily dosage of nagging.
- From your assessment, do you think mummy is a good cook?
- How then would l be eating at home if she isn't?
- Answer directly sir: is mummy a good cook?
- Mtchhhhewww........... Well, yes she is.
- Have you ever said that to her or appreciated the sweetness of her food at any point in time?
- l gulp down every huge quantity of food she presents before me each meal time, sometimes, l even ask for me; what more appreciation does she want? To turn the world upside down for her?
- That's the issue sir, as a woman she wants to hear you say those words to her very often. Not only say it, but do it in a special way.
'Ohohhhh.........' Mrs. Ozahome interrupted them. 'That's not all o; he's been starving me sexually too.'
'Is that true daddy?' Inquired the Masked Poet.
'Look,' Chief Ozahome replied. 'I don't know why this woman can't understand circumstances by merely observing. I am always tired, always tired after a long day's job.......
'I also get tired doing all the domestic chores and taking care of my own business as well.' Mrs. Ozahome interrupted fiercely.
'Okay, okay, okay,' the Masked Poet calmed them down. 'It is clear what the problem is and I will highlight that in this poem l have entitled: 'IT'S AN EASY LIFE.'
If and when you hurt somebody
just say: 'I am sorry'
If and when you receive a gift
simply say: 'thanks so much'
if and when you see a beauty
please say: 'you are lovely'
if and when you awake from sleep
c'mon say: 'good morning'
if and when there's a misfortune
try to say: 'please take heart'
say, I am sorry
say, thanks so much
say, you are lovely
say, good morning
say, please take heart
simple, but impacting
negligible, yet profiting
trivial, but soothing
ignore it, and beckon hell!
(Singing)
It's an easy life
why make it hard?
we shouldn't fight
lets have a heart
for the sake of love
we have to arise
to the clarion call
to do what's right.
If and when an offender begs
if and when the poor approaches
simply give: 'my little token'
if in dire straits, a strayed soul is
please render: 'my atomic help'
if and when the aged labours
c'mon offer: 'my helping hand'
if and when on a lonely road
try to invite: 'my timely lift'
do, I forgive you
give, a little token
render, an atomic help
offer, a helping hand
invite, a timely lift
simple, but impacting
negligible, yet profiting
trivial, but soothing
disdain it, and let hell loosed!
(Singing)
It's an easy life
why make it hard?
we shouldn't fight
lets have a heart
for the sake of love
we have to arise
to the clarion call
to do what's right.
'That's the end of the poem.' The masked Poet told them.
Both remained silent, unable to utter a word for a reasonably long time. The Masked Poet interrupted their reflections.
'Daddy and mummy, why do you think we humans, l mean all of us, prefer difficulty to simplicity, struggles to grace, and hardship to ease? Just why?'
They remained silent still.
'Truly life is easier and simpler than we make it. The creator made it quite quite gracious, but we chose the opposite.' The Masked Poet continued. 'But today, l mean, right now, you two can decide to make it simple. You see, your marriage is not characterized by the many pitfalls most marriages are ensnared with. It is just a problem of appreciation instigated by a lack of understanding of each gender's needs, emotions, and psyche. So, what do you think, can you make it a simple marriage today?
'Yes.'
'Yes.'
'I mean right now, are you ready?' The Masked Poet asked.
'Yes.'
'Yes.'
'Okay, now you both turn and look at each other: in the eye.' Instructed the Masked Poet.
They turned and stared at each other.
'Now, start saying the best things about yourselves to each other.' He instructed further.
The woman waited for the man to start, while the man also waited for his wife to kick start as they hesitated for a while.
'Gentleman first.' The Masked Poet offered an order of procession.
The man cleared his throat loudly and afterwards began:
'Ermmm...... You are my wife.'
'And you are my husband.' She responded.
- You know l love you.
- And I love you more.
- You
are my 'uyai,*' the prettiest, the most gorgeous.
- And you are my 'agwu,*' the strongest, the bravest.
- I am sorry for all traumas I have caused you....
- I forgive you.
- I will make earnest efforts to start showing appreciation for every effort of yours from now onwards.
- And I will heartily compliment your efforts..........
'Now the lady next...........' The Masked Poet interrupted for a reverse ordering so none is cheated out.
The lady began:
- Sweetheart you are my loving husband.
- Honey, you are my wife.
- The only husband I know.
- The only woman in my life.
- The only man who deflowered me.
- Chei, chei, chei, 'akpaniko! eziokwu!'
Chief Ozahome stood and walked round the office room, chanting along:
'It is true! I was the hunter who entered the sacred cave others tried and tried yet couldn't enter! Chei! Honey-m, you are still my virgin, intacttttt.......
*uyai(Efik = beauty) *agwu(Igbo = tiger) *akpaniko (Efik = truth) *eziokwu(Igbo = truth or it's true)
CHAPTER 8
It is the season of mothers as mothers' day was around the corner. In the christian south of the country, almost all the churches held various programmes to mark and celebrate the day and mothers respectively. But the members of the 'Young Billionaires Social Club' were not satisfied with the church celebrations. They decided to invite their mothers for a special treat that evening at the prestigious 'Le Meridien Gardens,' to appreciate their mothers' sacrifices for them from infancy to adulthood. They invited notable music artistes to perform to their mothers' delight. But they also invited a special artiste with a recent genre to public artistry. That artiste is none other than the Masked Poet. When representatives from the club came to him at the Emotional House to book for an outdoor service, they made him realize they know that beyond money, gifts, and artifacts; words, finely constructed words of appreciation, remained a mother's heartbeat and mattered more to them than material showers. Thus, he was to come up with a soul rendering poem which would be read to their mothers' admiration. Of course, the Masked Poet promised to compose the best...........
On the set evening, after lots of music and speeches, he was called to the podium to present a poem on behalf of the Young Billionaires Social Club, to mothers. He titled it: 'IT'S COMING FROM MY HEART,' and he began to read:
Mother, mother, mother, oh mother.......
if you want to understand
the meaning of this maxim
'the last man standing,'
then check the life of a mother.
Father may walk away
and abandon the family
seduced by a strange woman
attracted and distracted by a mistress
mother is already stressed
now she bears a new burden
to be the man for the family
and the mother of the house
you know, she should walk away
she can walk away
and leave the children too
but she would not leave
she's too loving to leave
how this is possible, l don't know
how this works, l cannot tell
why she can't leave like father left
I think it is because
God made mother, the last man standing.
Mother, mother, mother, oh mother........
if you so desire to know
how God loves a human
and values us as special,
then consider a mother's love.
Many fathers disown their children
for one or many errancy
and for other selfish reasons
mother will detest such errors
yet in this little life of mine
l searched and searched
but I'm yet to see a mother
who disowned her children
she would be in touch
she would send welfare
she would pray for them
how this is possible, l don't know
how this works, l cannot tell
why can't mothers disown their children?
I think it is because
God made mother, a symbol of agape love.
Mother! The last man standing
mother! The symbol of agape love
what can l do for you?
what can l do for mother?
I will say these to her:
Mother, love is what I offer
and it's coming from my heart
mother, I'll write you a song with words on marble
and it's coming from my heart
mother, I'll make a sweet melody that will never fade
and it's coming from my heart
mother, mine's a love that's purer than diamond
and it's coming from my heart
because I know, l know mother
you cherish these than gold and silver.
Mother, mother, mother, oh mother.........
if anybody wants to learn
about the courageous soldier
who never leaves her post
I'll direct you to a mother.
Father may die or go away
relations may throw her out
and claim all the property
so she's left with nothing
but mother won't leave her post
she won't abandon the children
despite the strenuous challenge
how this is possible, l don't know
how it works, l cannot tell
why mothers can't abandon their office
I think it is because
God made mother, a soldier who remains at her post.
Mother, mother, mother, oh mother.........
if you want to appreciate
the very mysterious gifting
of a blessed natural seer
then learn from a mother
just like Moses' mother
who saw him a goodly child
and like the virgin Mary
who saw Jesus as her Lord
just like Samuel's mother
who saw in him God's Oracle
so do mothers see
the hidden that's in others
the unveiled in children
the potentials in partners
how this is possible, l don't know
how this works, l cannot tell
how mothers see successes in failures
and are patient with rejects
I think it is because
God made mother, a blessed natural seer.
Mother! The soldier who never leaves her post
mother! The blessed natural seer
what can l do for you?
what can l do for mother?
I will say these to her
mother, I'll be there for you
and it is right till infinity
mother, I'll bring the best words can offer
and it is to fulfil your joy
mother, I'll make sounds that make you happy
and it's just to see you smile
mother, l treasure every moment
expressed in your love for me
and I know, yes l know mother
you cherish these than gold and silver.
'This is where the poem ends. Thank you all.' It was the Masked Poet's parting words.
Instantly, the air was rented. Civilized pandemonium engulfed the garden as mothers in attendance did not only stop at clapping and screaming out their hearts, over three quarters of them virtually ran to the base of the podium to embrace the Masked Poet. In the end, it turned out, the Masked Poet's show..........
All the mothers in attendance requested for a copy of the poem.
It is the 17th of March. It has been a brilliantly cool day but the Masked Poet is in a frenzy. As soon as he received news of it, he basically bundled himself out of
the Emotional House like a thief chased by an angry mob, into his car, and off he drove to the Heritage Hospital. His very good friend's wife, and coincidentally his friend too(that is the woman), had just been delivered of a set of bouncing twins; identical and all girls. The previous day, while he was informed she was headed to the hospital, he had expressed his best wishes of a safe delivery to the family and it was a moment of joy when he was called and informed she delivered safely through a caesarean session, few hours ago. But now, there suddenly arose an emergency and she was dying. He virtually flew across the roads as he sped to the hospital causing some difficult traffic moments for motorists. But by the time he got to the hospital, she was already dead, certified dead. The cause of death: undetected massive loss of blood from profuse bleeding in the operated womb. The Masked Poet drowned in sorrow. This woman was her friend first before her husband was, she was the one who drew her close to the family during those hard days before he made it. She made sure if not for any other thing, he never lacked well cooked food. She also found reasons to trust him up to a point he became her confidant, sharing family issues with him for his advises, keeping only very deep secrets that a husband and wife should have, away from him. She was happy for him when eventually, he found his way up in life. He was as well looking forward to when he would reward her for all her love, only for the irredeemably unforseen, to come striking. The only consoling part of the tragic episode was the survival of the twins.
The burial was fixed a month later. At the burial service, he was given an opportunity to render an elegy to his late friend as his mark of last respect for a truly bosom friend. He did not title it, he just moved on with reading it. Expectedly, his voice was filled with the drowsy sorrowful melody that accompanies an elegy coming from the heart:
Count the dates of the calendar
start from the first of January
count on, even to infinity
but please, for goodness' sake,
never ever count this date.....
never ever count seventeen
especially seventeenth March
cos for my fragile mortal life,
seventeenth March has become
a synonym of novel shock
one I've never felt before
one that's refused to go away