The Replacement
By Lechi Eke
When she let him into her apartment, Ignatius perceived the scent of alcohol. It was overpowering as if it poured on her worn out rug. Ignatius wondered what she did with all the money he gave her if she didn’t buy a new rug. The scent was that of local gin. He could tell that she was happy to see him, but not excited. The last time they met, she was giving him attitude and drivelling. It was at Sylvester’s funeral. She was draped in black from head to toe. So, he asked, “Why are you in black? Who are you mourning?” She glared at him before replying, “This is the second husband I’ve lost.”
“Who?” he asked bewildered.
“Who are we here to bury?” she asked angrily.
“Sylvester.”
“And you’re asking me who?”
She was acting strange as if she was high on something, or mentally unstable. He had no idea that she married Sylvester. The last time he saw Sylvester was at Nnamdi Azikiwe Airport, Abuja and they were both in a hurry. Suddenly he was troubled that she married Sylvester, but he chided himself, wasn’t she free to marry whoever she wanted since he was no longer available? Yet, it disturbed him not a little coupled with her attitude towards him. Despite all the money he sent to her to make her comfortable, she was still angry with him. The thought of her with Sylvester totally unsettled him. Well, he thought, he couldn’t eat his cake and have it! He turned from greeting other people and she was gone. At the graveside, he searched for her frantically, but she wasn’t there. So, he asked one of Sylvester’s siblings, “What about Sylvester’s wife and children?”
“He never married,” the guy said. Then, it dawned on Ignatius that Iveren was unstable. So, when he spotted her again at the reception, he hurried to her because he had been looking for her in the crowd. She sat in the sun, outside a canopy. He asked her to get up so he could take her chair under the canopy, out of the sun, she refused. He asked her, “So, who was your first husband?”
“He’s the one speaking with me now,” she said without a smile to show that it was joke. He was reluctant to leave her knowing he was the cause of her ailment. But now, as he advanced into her apartment, a room and parlour with a bathroom, toilet and a kitchenette, he felt he had more troubles than her.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she said airily looking happy.
“Iveren, are you drinking?” he asked suspiciously.
“Haba, my doctor! Did you see anything in my hand?” But her face was flushed and happy and he knew she was not only drinking, she must be binging on alcohol.
“Listen!” he said a little sharply, “I want to spend some days here with you, but I’m not going to touch you. My dad doesn’t know I’m here. I plead with you, Iveren, whatever you take you must not touch it again so I can unburden my soul to you. Iveren, are you listening? I’m in trouble.”
“Haba, oga,” she said smiling, “am I deaf?” He did not trust her happy mood, but he had nowhere to go, and he felt he needed her. She used to be a very sensible person, but see what his father had done to all of them.
“I have Tiv soup, atyeyer, should I pound yam quickly for you?” she asked.
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“No, I don’t want to eat. I’m too upset to eat,” he said watching her to see her reaction, to test her state of mind. She didn’t seem to understand him for she said, “And Gloria? And the twins? Or do you want popyo soup?”
“Gloria has left me. She took the girls with her.” To his consternation, she rose to her feet and began to dance a vigorous Tiv traditional dance called swange. He watched her wondering how to bring her back to her senses.
After sitting with her for about a quarter of an hour without talking, he stood up to tour her living quarters. She didn’t follow him. Her toilet was not flushed despite water running in the bathroom, he tightened the faucet and flushed the toilet. There was no food in her tiny kitchen, all the pots were empty; nothing in her tiny fridge either except two eggs and a half bowlful of *fourah, and *kwilikwili. He went into her bedroom and looked around noting with dismay the unmade bed and piles of dirty clothes. There were cobwebs all over the place. He went through her things and changed the beddings and gathered her dirty clothes and stuffed them into a bag. Living alone in America made him domesticated. He swept, cleaned and dusted for her and opened the windows to air the room. When he returned to the sitting room, she was asleep with her mouth open and she, spread out on her couch in an undignified manner.
“We’ll overcome this,” he muttered determinedly to himself and bent down to pull her into a dignified position. He had come to Kafanchan disguised with long beards and a tunic; half his face hidden behind sunglasses. Removing her key from the door, he took one and left the other on her coffee table and letting himself out, he locked the door from outside. Within thirty minutes he was back loaded with some medicine and foodstuffs for she had no food at home but bottles of local gin. He also, bought toiletries and disinfectants. She was still sleeping when he returned. Among the things he bought were cartons of bottled water, drips and diverse teas; fruits and vegetables. He had to work on her, to detoxify her system and get her brain functioning again.
Over the days that followed, they fought verbally. He would not let her out of the house.
“What’s wrong with you,” he found himself pleading with her several times. “I’m back. Get a-hold of your life.” He didn’t let her go to work either. On the second day, two of her friends came calling. They didn’t know who he was neither did he tell them the truth.
“She’s related to me and she’s unstable. I’m treating her. I’m a qualified doctor.” They agreed with him, and kept coming back to check on her. By the fifth day, without alcohol, with lots of water and fresh fruits, vegetables and different teas, including ginger, she began to mend. All the while, he didn’t touch her. It was on that fifth day, when he saw that she was ashamed of herself that he knew she was back, and that day, he gathered her in his arms and his heart healed. They both fell asleep immediately and when they woke up, he saw that the old times had returned. She gave him her sunshine smile and he embraced her again. That night, he began to tell her what happened.
They returned to Makurdi by air and drove into his father’s palatial compound in different taxis; she, with a house-help from Kafanchan. He didn’t want local people snooping around and he didn’t want his father to know. His duplex was about 75 metres from his father’s house. No one was about; he had dismissed his house staff after they cleared out Gloria’s things and the twins’. For him, it was a new beginning. He called his father late in the night when he knew he was in bed.
“I’m back, Dad. I’m sorry if I caused you concerns. I needed to go away and be by myself,” he told him.
“I understand,” his father replied wearily. “See you tomorrow in the office.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Ignatius said truly grateful and hung up. He’d been gone for over ten days.
Ignatius resumed work. Things returned to normal. Iveren stayed home and busied herself with reading. She had taken three months of accumulated leave. Only her friends in Kafanchan knew she was in Markurdi. Ignatius felt peace and had joy and added weight. But it didn’t take quite a month before his father came over for a visit. Iveren hurried upstairs to keep out of his way. It was late, the house-help had gone to bed, so she didn’t show herself; not that Ignatius’ father would have told one maid from another, anyway.
“Son, I came because we’ve not really talked since that terrible day that that American woman left with her children,” Ignatius father began. Ignatius stiffened. With her children? What a man! Ignatius thought. “I don’t know how she survived. Someone said it must be because she divorced you. You know the curse had your wife’s name on it.”
“It could also be your own wife since I’m your namesake,” Ignatius said quietly. His father paused and searched his face to see if any disrespect was intended. Then, he continued.
“It was Junior’s wife. You know we have a problem on our hands?”
“No, I don’t,” replied Ignatius. His father paused again and regarded him curiously before saying, “We do. We need a replacement, if not your life would be in danger.”
“Who’ll be the replacement, Dad?” Ignatius asked meaningfully looking into his father’s eyes, unflinching.
“You’ll have to look for someone to marry. You don’t know what I did for you. When I saw that you loved that Tiv girl you wanted to marry so much, I said to myself, I don’t want my son to be heartbroken as I was when I lost his mum. I said, it’s better you marry someone else, someone that when she’s no more, you’ll marry your love. But you’ll not understand what I did for you. I wish you could so you’ll appreciate me. So, you’re going to look for…”
Ignatius straightened up and said matter-of-factly, “Dad, I’m a 35 year old man. I won’t let anyone run my life for me. I don’t want to look for another wife. I don’t want to be married three times in my lifetime. And, I don’t want to belong to your association. I repent of ever accepting them. I hereby renounce them now. God knows that I had no conscious agreement with them to kill anyone. So, I refuse to accept to die for the association.”
His father rose to his feet. “You must be kidding!” he charged at his son.
“I’ve never been more serious in my life. I don’t want a complicated life, Dad. You can keep your money, your house, your hospital. I’ll get a job and live on my remuneration.”
“You’ll die, you’ll see!”
“I will not die, Dad. Why couldn’t they kill Gloria? Have you asked yourself that? Why couldn’t they kill Gloria?”
“I told you it was because she divorced you and the curse was only for your wife.”
“Well, it will interest you to know, my dear father that Gloria was still my wife when the curse was transferred to her. The day after the party and the *saraka to the underprivileged, Gloria fell ill, but she went to prayer and she lived. It was because the prayer people revealed to her before time that my illness would be transferred to her and it happened that’s why she divorced me and fled.”
“Who told you?”
“Gloria, herself, and she called me a devil before she left. Then, she drugged me and fled with our children. I don’t want to be called a devil, |Dad. I’m a good man, even if I be koboless. I want to be a good man, inside out!”
Ignatius father sat down again. He took out his handkerchief and wiped off sweat in his son’s fully air-conditioned sitting-room and leaned forward and asked, “Did you visit the prayer people?”
“Why do you ask?”
The older man suddenly looked old. His cheeks sagged and wrinkles appeared on his fore head. “Please, my son,” he said and made to kneel down.
“Sir, don’t! It is an abomination,” a voice screamed from the staircase. Iveren bounded down the stairs and rushed to the older man and held him up.
“Who’s this, Ignatius?”
“This is Iveren, my soul-mate.”
“The Tiv girl in Kafanchan?”
“How did you know she was in Kafanchan?”
“I sent her there. I told her office to transfer her where you’ll not see her until you’re ready,” Ignatius father said with some sense of accomplishment. Ignatius’ visage swiftly changed and he stood up and raised his voice at his father.
“You can’t control other people’s lives like that, Dad!” Ignatius yelled, trembling. “You should have asked me if I wanted such a complicated life. Do you know how much pain your interference has caused me over the years? I could have died.”
Iveren and Ignatius’ father seemed shocked out of their wits at Ignatius’ reaction. The two of them didn’t expect this reaction. They had never seen this side of Ignatius, so they froze. But Ignatius continued in that hard voice.
“Well, Iveren and I have decided that we won’t get married until all this blows over. I cannot put her in any danger because I love her so much. I will face the association. Even as they couldn’t kill Gloria, they cannot kill me. I will live.”
“You’ve done foolishly,” the old man said and began to walk away. Ignatius didn’t walk him to the door, but stood there trembling trying to calm himself down. It was Iveren who went to lock the door after the older man. She returned and took Ignatius’ hand and led him upstairs to their bedroom. They lay on the bed in silence fully dressed and holding hands. Finally, Iveren said, “I don’t want you to take these things lightly. Did Gloria tell you where she went to for prayers? Let’s go there.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“In the morning, I will ask Theresa, our help. She’s always praying and she goes to church. We must look for where they pray hot prayers with tongues.”
“What do you mean, with tongues?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? They call themselves the Pentecostals and they say gibberish words when they pray. Theresa’s auntie, my neighbour, goes to such church, O, my God!” Iveren shouted and clamped her mouth with the palm of her hand.
“What?”
“You won’t believe this!”
“What is it?” Ignatius asked all ears.
“Theresa’s auntie told me when you came back, and you were married and I returned to Kafanchan, devastated, she said to me that you’re my husband, although mountains of problems would stand before us that we would triumph. But I was too unhappy to pay her any mind. Ignatius, it is happening!!!”
Ignatius’ face brightened instantly. Hope rose within him for although he sounded tough before his father, he stood on nothing save an obdurate determination not to allow anyone put him in bondage for life. He preferred to rather die than live a life of bondage, but now, this is hope! “It must be the same kind of Christian Gloria met at the groceries’…”
“What’s groceries?” He told her what they call it in Nigeria.
“In the morning, we will ask Theresa to take us to church,” Ignatius said happily with his burden lifted.
*fourah – fresh milk
*kwilikwili – skimmed beaten groundnut
*saraka – generosity to the poor.
Epilogue
Some months later, Dr Ignatius Kevwe (Snr) took ill and was hospitalised. His son and his wife, for ECWA (Evangelical Church of West Africa) where Theresa worshipped and where she led them to, insisted that they must get married. The church authority told them that if they sought God, they must come in faith recognising that God is greater than Satan because He created Satan. So, they should come clean as a married couple and not live in sin to seek Him. So, they got married in a private ceremony. Months after, Ignatius’ father became very sick. The couple pleaded with him to seek God, he refused saying that nothing could save him from the association because they were very powerful. He lay in the hospital for several months. On the day Iveren and Ignatius welcomed their first child, a boy, he took his last breath.
