“Love is a five-letter word…”
By Lechi Eke
The buzz of the intercom jolted Lillian out of her reverie. She sighed. Duke was home! She put the book divider in place and placed the book on her bedside table and stood up. Her thoughts were on the person who gifted the book to her and on the book’s content. As she descended her spiral staircase, she muttered, “What does Dodo want from me, oneness?” Her almond shaped eyes fringed with false lashes narrowed into slits as she reflected over the matter.
One of the stewards was entering into the living room as Lillian was descending into it. She held a piece of paper in her hand. “Betty!” Lillian called out. “What’s that?”
“It’s for Daddy,” Betty said. She placed the form on Duke’s side stool and curtseyed. Duke picked it up, read it, and picked up the intercom, dialled a digit and spoke into the receiver. “Show her in.”
Lillian eyed the girl’s retreating backside and shook her head. She had confided in her mother of her niggling fear that Duke might one day, grab one of the delectable girls he insisted on as house staff although he swore they were his relatives. Her mother had told her what to do – make sure they are always far from Duke at all times, and serve Duke’s meals personally. “I hate house chores,” she had whined. “Then, don’t complain when they ‘collect’ your husband,” her mother retorted.
“Welcome, Duke. How was your day?” she cooed.
While they were exchanging pleasantries, a steward began to set the table. She went to the kitchen and dished her husband’s food. A woman a little older than her and not too well dressed was being shown in when Lillian returned to the living room where her husband sat working his phone.
“Dodo’s wife?” Duke asked.
“Yes sir,” she said and curtseyed.
Lil’s eyes lit up.
“Please, have a seat.” Duke indicated somewhere close to him. She sat down and began to stare meaningfully at Lil.
“I wanted to see you privately,” she said her eyes still on Lil.
“Is there any problem?” Duke asked.
Lil stood up. “Let me get your food ready,” she said and began to move to the dining area which was out of earshot if conversations were discrete.
“Is Dodo alright?” Duke asked and Lillian heard Dodo’s wife clearly say, “I wish he were dead.” And her eyes were still slanted towards Lillian.
Lillian turned sharply to look at her. “Yes,” she affirmed. “I came to let you know before I sue your wife that she’s stolen my husband!”
Lil froze. Duke sat up. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“No, I’m not, but I would be when my lawyers serve her papers.”
“What a little hussy!” Lil exclaimed and stumbled forward reaching for a chair that suddenly seemed too far. She clutched at the air and sprawled on the floor.
“Lil!” her hubby called out.
She must have fainted for when she opened her eyes, she was lying on the couch and the woman had gone. Duke sat beside her looking worried.
“Are you alright?” He stood up, but did not move close to her. Lillian sat up scrunching her face obviously trying to recollect what happened. “Can you walk? Let’s go upstairs,” he said.
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Upstairs in their bedroom, the standing fan had blown open the book she was reading to the page Dodo signed: signed with a drawing of plantain coloured yellow. Dodo’s name was the native name for fried plantain but he signed his name with the drawing of a whole plantain, uncut! She giggled for days after he told her that he was well hung like a plantain. And that was at introduction. She didn’t consider it disrespectful of him to say that with her husband’s back barely turned on them at his own party. It was Duke’s 32nd birthday party, a bash in a 7-star hotel, a 3-hour party that he never minded paying the event planner through his nose for, for his nose was flared and very wide. He was an All-African dude with deep pockets.
“How could she say a thing like…?” Lillian began in self-defence sitting on the foot of their large bed.
“She’s asking for 50ML, or she takes you to court.”
Lillian suddenly came alive. “Fifty million Naira!? She must be mad. Am I doing anything with her husband…?”
“You slept with him more than half a dozen times,” he said. “I was counting.”
A word of protest rose in her throat. Perhaps, he exaggerated but for her to point that out would mean she was agreeing to being guilty. So, in the place of sharp denial, a lame – “How?” – escaped from her guilt-weakened throat.
“I watched the CCTV.”
Her weight seemed to sink heavily into the bed as she hunched her shoulders and covered her face with well manicured hands. Her husband busied himself undressing. It took her a long while to uncover her face and raise her head. Finally, her voice croaked out the question, “What are we going to do?”
“We?” He sounded detached.
She hugged herself but said nothing. He turned walking towards the bathroom, but paused in front of her.
“It has nothing to do with me. I lost money last week. The government of Chad seized my consignment in the Tenéré desert. I put in a lot of money in that business. Also, the NDLEA has frozen my accounts and busted The Brethren. But your Dodo is safe. He has foreign accounts as well as accounts in his mum’s and his siblings’ names – untraceable accounts.”
Lillian knew about The Brethren. They were a group of businessmen trading on illegal wares and meeting for unholy supplications in the home of a white garment seer. She stared up at her husband with consternation.
When they met, she had asked him, “What do you do for a living?” He said without batting an eye, “Drugs. I’m a pharmacist.” It didn’t take her long to find out the kind of pharmacist he was; a pharmacist by training, but a practising drug dealer, peddling mind-altering banned substances across the deserts of Africa to Europe. When she told her mother, she had snapped at her, “What’s your business? Let me tell you there’s hardly any innocent money in this world. What you should care for is the money, not how it’s made. Great wealth is as unclean as anal passage, there’s no way you won’t discover some excreta under thorough examination.”
Lillian’s eyes mirrored trepidation. “Oh, my God!” she cried hitting her forehead with her right palm.
“It’s not bad for you, dear,” he said. “You’re a beautiful butterfly. You can fly away with Dodo.” He entered the bathroom. She heard the shower running.
“Don’t you have any feelings for me,” she asked him when he returned into the room.
“Do you for me?”
She had no ready answer. They married under strange circumstances, with the seriousness found at auction sales. She was the priciest thing at the auction having won a beauty pageant the year before they met. Her tenure had run out and the klieg lights moved to her successor. Companies also moved their endorsements to the new pageant winner; a harsh fiscal year loomed over her. Cold claws of desperation were reaching for her heart before the fortune of meeting Duke smiled on her.
In desperation, she returned to PG school to pick up a diploma in banking which she abandoned for the pageant. Back in school, she made a few phone calls announcing her comeback to her former business as a runs girl. Few weeks into school, someone invited her and six other girls from school to party with some members of The Brethren. They sent two luxury cars to pick them. Every member of the group wanted a piece of her, apparently, because of her pageant history, and perhaps because she was still sizzling…
Duke, on noticing that everyone wanted her, took her off the market immediately. He was direct. He asked for her price. She named it. Although it was huge, he didn’t bat an eye. He transferred it and said, “Let’s get married.” That put paid to the postgraduate diploma programme.
He was the highest bidder, a man who flaunted his wealth and Lillian was flabbergasted, but found his line of business a little distasteful until her mother put her through. So, she mixed her displeasure with caviar and swallowed it with the champagnes.
Why couldn’t she answer? She had lied countless of times. Duke came out of the bathroom in his boxers which was unusual. In the past which was separated from the present by the event in the living room a while ago, he used to walk out of the bathroom stark naked. He stood in front of his wardrobe surveying it, considering what to wear. His body language was detached. She sat watching him select outing clothes, and began to wear them.
“Are you going out?” She sounded despondent sensing she had lost him.
He gave her a distant “Does it matter?” Loneliness embraced her. After a moment, she responded. “Yes, it does, you’re my husband.”
“You’re a slut, baby. You’re nobody’s wife.” He spat the words on her. She cringed. Moments passed and no one spoke. After a while, she mustered up courage to try again.
“She’ll take me to court, and you’ll be dragged, trolled. It would be on social media, everywhere.”
“Yes, but by then, I would have divorced you.” He stepped into a pair of jogging slacks and pulled up the trousers. Lillian watched him as he picked up and pulled over his head a white cotton T-shirt and sat on a chair to wear a pair of white and black sneakers. He tied the laces carefully with no haste and stood up walking to the mirror to judge his appearance. Satisfied, he walked to the door and without looking at her, went out shutting the door gently behind him.
Lillian noted that he wasn’t angry; he was done with her. She was going to be discarded like a used catamenia towel: that’s what she was now. No one likes to touch a menstrual pad! She smelled the stench of menstrual blood leaking through her body. She went to the bathroom to retch and wash away her worthlessness. Her phone was ringing when she returned into the bedroom. It was Dodo, and the intercom was also buzzing. She picked the intercom.
“Mr Dodo is in the sitting-room, Madam,” the security man said. She responded without thinking. “If I come out and meet him there, I’ll have you fired!” Her response shocked her. Dodo had made her laugh more in her 18 months of marriage than her husband. He brought the laughter and had repeatedly said the words no one ever said to her in her 26 years on earth: “I love you.”
Lillian grew up without love. No one ever hugged her, or told her they loved her. It was not surprising because in Africa, there is hardly any public display of affection. Parents hugging and kissing is blue-moon rare. There are no stories of people “falling in love”; rather stories abound of “finding” who to marry and getting married. So, Lillian “found” Duke and married him.
She was groomed at home to be a go-getter. Whatever venture that would not yield money at the end was bad business she was raised to understand and Duke fitted the bill of profitable ventures. On the other hand, Dodo came for her with hugs and professions of love.
No matter how much she tried to fend him off, he persisted, steadily battering her with excitement of love, flowery language, and stupendous cash gifts. Once when Duke travelled to Tripoli for business, Dodo flew her to Dubai for a weekend of heaven on earth in the most exquisite grand suite of the hotel Palazzo Versace. She snuck back with her mouth cleaned before Duke’s return.
Dodo had access to the house. He was a friend to Duke: they went to the same secondary school. So, he could stop by at a whim. She and he had done some unprintable things around the house: spontaneous and dangerous, but not as often as Duke said. However, Lillian sensed that her husband was more mature and dealt with important issues. He had become like a father in her parents’ baseless home: wading into matters, counselling, providing, representing, although being just as aloof as her own father in matters of the heart.
She began to cry. Duke’s detached attitude frightened her. He had never looked at her the way he did that night. And as she lashed at her security, she realised that her heart had chosen her husband over her lover. Too late, she wept.
Lillian went to bed fasting, the desire for food fled! Duke stayed away for three nights, and she died: it killed her piecemeal. The third morning, she came out to eat, and an envelope addressed to her was on the dining table. A cheque for N5ML was in it and a note from her husband saying, “I gathered this from my friends to settle you and set you free. You may go and begin a new life with whoever you fancy now. At least, you won’t be desperate for money. This cheque gives you a temp cure.”
A cure? “Oh, my God!” she wept into her palms. “He knows I’m sick and he knows the nature of my illness. Oh, dear Lord, I’m a greedy girl!” she wept tossing here and there on her matrimonial king-sized bed. “Where would I go, now? God, where are you? Help me.”
N5ML could only get her a comfortable place on the mainland. She never intended to return to the mainland, least of all, Mushin where her parents lived! She had no occupation, how on earth would she grow the money her hubby gave her? To hide in the house would be the best thing, she decided, until she figured out what to do. The house was big, five en-suite bedrooms. She hid in a bedroom far from theirs, and snuck out to steal food. There was no one to confide in. She had no real friends. All her friends were butterflies like her. So, now that there was no pollen to suckle, there would be nothing to discuss between them. If it was to discuss holidays’ destination or the latest Jimmy Choo’s shoes and bags, there would have been plenty people to discuss such things with.
She was trapped with her clothes and boxes in her new room, her hideout; there was nowhere to wear them to. Her jewels, her wigs, her designer handbags… all these were as important to her now as material things to a corpse. She wondered if anyone had questioned her disappearance among the staff. To task her brains, Lillian watched Italian cable TV trying to figure out what they were saying and doing. How long she could hold up in Duke’s house, she had no idea.
By the 5th day, she was a bag of nerves, exhausted with life and tired of the Italian TV. She tuned in to AIT, Nigerian cable TV and was shocked to read on the strap that business tycoon, Duke Fefe, had divorced his wife citing loss of affection and irreconcilable differences. How could the magistrate dissolve her marriage in her absence? As she sat in that lonely room reminiscing over her past life and when exactly she lost her innocence, she slipped into a trance and saw her grandma reading a book. It was the book Dodo gave her: 13, the Number of Love. A great gulf stood between her and her grandma and she cried, “Grandma, help me! No one trained me. No one taught me the good and the bad.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Hush!” her grandma yelled across the gulf. “You’re being trained now!”
“It’s too late Grandma…” she sobbed.
“Hush and listen,” Grandma said with her index finger on her lips and she began to read. “1The only thing that is real in this life is love. There is nothing else because God is Love. He created the entire universe with love and out of love. At its root, every single thing in the world was made of love; and the root of all soul is called LOVE. Love in Hebrew is called “ahava”. It has the numerical value of 13 which is the same numerical value of echad, which means “one”. The definition of love is oneness and unity. The highest level of love transcends “giving” and “receiving”. It is oneness, unity.”
Hearing her grandma read out the numerical value of ahava and echad, Lillian understood what was wrong with her marriage. It housed duplicity and pretence. A trickle of light shone in her heart. Love is not in her home! Duke married her to show off that he had money and she married him out of greed, to get her claws on all he had. They had no plans beyond when that initial need was met. Now, they didn’t know what to do with themselves.
All of a sudden, the scene changed to a wretched being in tattered clothing saying, “I will arise and go to my father and say, Father, forgive me…” Bright lights exploded suddenly from far and swallowed the wretched being. Lillian broke out to the surface like a swimmer would and woke up. She fled the bed and began to pace the floor perspiring heavily from fright and from the poor ventilation in her hideout.
“Maybe, I should go home to my parents and tell them to forgive me,” she soliloquised. “My marriage has failed. I cannot go to Dodo, he’s married. His wife will kill me, and he acted badly, enticing me with excess money. O, I’m just greedy! (Tears flowed freely down her face. She remembered Duke’s countenance and the tears increased). I’ve hurt Duke.”
She fell on her knees and covered her face and wept her heart out. How long she wept, she had no idea. Suddenly, the door knob turned and someone began to knock. Her heart started thudding. ‘I’m found out!’ Quick as a flash, she fled into the bathroom and locked the door. The banging on the door stopped and she breathed down and snuck out of the bathroom. Minutes later, without warning, she heard the key turn in the lock and the door opened. Her husband stood there looking at her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked sternly.
She stood up and without thinking said, “Duke, you cheated on me too. My friends were telling me, but I never even confronted you. I just let it go. And…”
“I’m a man, but go on… finish what you’re saying…”
“So, a man can cheat and it’ll be alright?” she flared presenting a mannerism and unkempt appearance typical of a newly deranged woman.
He observed her intently for some time and shook his head before replying matter-of-factly, “Incidentally, yes! I’m not the creator of the universe, that’s how the creator made it.”
“…and, you don’t love me! You never said you did. You purchased me!”
Duke walked to a chair and sat down. His gaze travelled around the room and returned to rest on his wife. “Why are you hiding here?” he asked her his eyes piercing into her soul. She answered not a word. “If five million naira is small, Dodo can give you as much as you want,” he continued watching her. He saw her deflated, the fight dissipating from her and she sagged onto the bed and her face crumpled.
“Please, for…forgive me,” she said brokenly.
“Why should I do that?” His voice was very harsh. “Do you know how… how much you’ve hurt me?” His voice turned husky with emotion.
Her eyes misted and tears dropped down her cheeks. “I told my grandma that I wasn’t trained. She said she’ll train…she’ll train me.” She was weeping freely now.
“Your grandma is dead, Lillian. Tell me why I should forgive you, that’s all I’m interested in.”
She looked distraught. Her eyes had sunken into their sockets and her tear-streaked face without make-up looked pathetic; her hair dishevelled. He had never seen her that way. She seemed to have aged and she cringed from him.
“I called a cab to take you to your parents’ home. The marriage is over. I told you there’s CCTV all over the place and you still came to hide in here.” His voice was now calm, but he saw it frightened her still.
“I…I … have nowhere to go…” she mumbled miserably.
“What about Dodo? He can get you a nice place…”
“I don’t want Dodo (he shot her a piercing glance). True! I don’t want Dodo. He came here that day his wife came here and I refused to see him. Please, Duke… forgive me.” She got off the bed and moved towards him and falling on her knees, she held his feet weeping. He sat still gazing away from her.
“I know the money I gave you is small…” he began and then stopped and stood up pulling away from her. He went to the windows and opened them wider. “Here’s stuffy. Did you think putting on the A/C would attract attention?” He picked up the A/C remote and switched it on and returned to the windows staring outside until chilled air seeped out of the A/C and began to swallow up the warmth in the room. He closed the windows and returned to his seat. Lillian was still kneeling with her face down gazing on her clasped hands on her laps as tear drops wetted them. He spoke again, this time with a changed tone. “Okay, Lil, let me tell you, that wasn’t Dodo’s wife.”
She cocked her head and peered blindly at him. “W-what?” she cried and struggled to her feet.
“And there is no CCTV. I’ve known Dodo all my life, he’s a bastard! (He paused and then continued) Okay, I’m the bastard. It was his idea to invite you girls that day. He told me about you. When I saw you, I fell in love with you at first sight and decided to move faster than Dodo. Our friends told me he cried because of you, but he was married. Seeing him coming all the time and I couldn’t stop him, I got really jealous and decided to help myself before I’d die of high blood pressure. I organised this fleece. I prayed and said God help me. I know I stole this girl from Dodo, but help me keep her.”
Lillian sat down heavily on the bed and covered her mouth with her left hand speechless, her tears dried up, staring up at her husband.
“What do you want to do now?” he asked her. Her eyes misted again and tears began to trickle down. “Don’t cry again. I want you to talk to me.” His voice was kind. She knew that voice, but never understood it.
“I’ve prayed to God, I know I don’t go to church, and that’s because no one took me to church or asked me to go, so, I asked God to heal me of my sickness, of greed. I love you, Duke.”
He stared at her until his eyes turned red and he covered his mouth with his right palm and sat like that for minutes before he spoke. “I’ve never slept with anyone else since I married you,” he confessed. “I wanted to make you jealous.”
“Oh, my God!” she cried. “I …I… let Dodo touch me because I thought that men were never faithful and that you didn’t particularly care about me.”
“Are you kidding me? Men don’t marry ladies they’re not interested in. And, you, you didn’t fight for your home. I expected you to say, this is my house too!” He smiled down at her.
They both stood up simultaneously and advanced towards each other. The stewards served them dinner in that room that night and they had a reunion there. In the morning, Duke drove his wife to Purple & Lilac Spar where they cleaned her up and dressed her up in a beautiful white dress. He flew her to Abuja, to Transcorp Hilton and in the privacy of the 5-star hotel’s best suite, he asked her for a new beginning, confessing that what she read on AIT strap was a paid advertorial he sent to the TV station and the cheque was a dud leaflet. “I cannot let you go without a fight, my darling wife,” he said smooching her.
They came clean to each other: naked before each other and were not ashamed. He revealed to her that the meeting of The Brethren metamorphosed into a church. The former white garment prophet met Jesus and gave his heart to Him and led some of them to Christ. Duke confessed how he agonised for weeks on how to retrieve his marriage from the claws of Satan.
“Nothing happened to my money,” he confessed, “but I’m never going near that unholy business again.”
Weeks later, Lillian, observing how Duke had forgiven her totally took his hand and asked shyly, “Darling, can Jesus forgive me all my atrocities?”
Duke cried, “Atrocities? My darling, you haven’t done a quarter of what I did. Love is a five-letter word…”
“Spelt G-R-E-E-D!” she cried.
“Spelt 2G-R-A-C-E! Jesus is Love, always willing and ready to receive everyone who seeks Him as long as they’re alive.”
1Culled from Our Love Story by Rev. Chris Ike Nwachukwu
2Unmerited favour
Written: Wednesday, 27 October, 2021